"There was gold in the pan.
"A few small 'colors', bright and shining as if made so by much scouring of beach sand, appeared in the bottom of the gold pan to gladden my longing eyes, and I hastened to show them to Pa Morrison, whose head and shoulders were still visible in that four foot hole.
"'Humph!' said he, in much disgust, as I exhibited the result of my labors. 'Is that all?'
"'Why, yes.'
"'And no nuggets?'
"'No nuggets.'
"At that he flung the pick he had been using in the ice upon the ground.
"'I'm going home', he said shortly.
"Now I hardly knew whether he intended to say he was going to the United States, or to the little cabin and tent on Front Street, but rather than run the risk of exploding another bomb of wrath like the last one by asking a question, I kept quiet and made preparations to go back to our tent.
"On the beach we washed our hands and smoothed our clothing as best we could; but the frown which had lodged on Pa's forehead remained.