“I don’t see what that has to do with it,” said he. “They found it, and they have a right to it. Of course, I’d rather it had been me; but it wasn’t, and there’s an end of it.”
“Some people are born lucky!” grumbled Colson, as Lewis walked away. “I never had any luck.”
“The nugget you found wasn’t quite so valuable,” returned Ropes grimly.
“No; I tugged away for nothing. My arms and shoulders are stiff enough this morning. And now the nugget is out of our reach.”
“But not the three hundred pounds,” said Ropes significantly.
“The price of the claim?”
“Yes.”
“That’s true, but it won’t do us any good.”
“The Yankee will carry that with him. It’s worth trying for.”
The suggestion seemed to strike Colson favourably. The two held a whispered consultation, which seemed to yield mutual satisfaction. They were, indeed, congenial spirits, and agreed upon one point, that it was better to make a living by knavery than by doing honest work for honest wages. Yet there is no harder or more unsatisfactory way of living than this. Ill-gotten gains seldom benefit the possessor, and the plans of wicked men often fail altogether.