Before entering the cavern he had noticed three or four of the miners standing in front of the bunk house, evidently watching him, but he paid no attention to them, and while he was inside, the roar of the cataract prevented him from hearing approaching footsteps. As he came out to the lip of the mine, he found Jim and three others waiting for him. Each had a rifle on his shoulder.
“Inspecting the property?” said Jim, casually.
“Yes,” replied Stranleigh.
“What do you think of it?”
“My opinion would be of very little value. I know nothing of mining.”
“The deuce you don’t!” said Jim. “What are you doing with that lump of rock in your hand?”
“Oh, that,” said Stranleigh, “I happened to pick up. I wanted to examine it in clear daylight. Is there silver in it?”
“How should I know?” replied Jim, gruffly. “I’m not a mining engineer. I only take a hand at the drill or the pick, as the case may be. But when you throw that back where you got it, throw it carefully, and not too far.”
“I don’t intend to throw it,” said Stranleigh. “I’m going to take it down to the house.”