John laughed.
“You are a very clever young lady, Miss Fuller, and I wonder you haven’t made that gold-mine a success on your own.”
“I am doing it now,” she said with a flash almost of defiance from her eyes.
Again the young man laughed.
“Are you?” he asked. “You women have us at a disadvantage when you talk business, but I am going to get right down to plain facts, and speak to you as if you were your own brother. You won’t be offended?”
“Not in the least.”
“Very well. Do you know what a salted mine is?”
“Certainly. I thought you said you knew nothing of mines? A salted mine is one in which rich ore has been planted for the cheating of fools.”
“An admirable definition, Miss Fuller. Well, in the matter of mines I’m a fool, and a salted mine would take me in as a gold brick on State Street would delude an Illinois farmer.”
“Then induce an expert to go with you—a mining expert who knows pay ore when he sees it.”