“Tisn’t much for a gold mine, Phil,––is it now?”?
“I could get you a dozen for that.”
“Oh, now, Phil!”
Rattlesnake Jim was getting impatient.
“Say, mister––if you’re interested, come outside and talk. No use trying to make a deal, with this old man of the sea out playin’ buttinsky.”
“Don’t be a fool now,” interposed Phil. “Stay where you are!”
But DeRue Hannington was in the toils again, and the fever was in his blood.
Dalton walked slowly to the door.
Hannington hesitated, looked sheepishly at Phil, then exclaimed over his shoulder:
“Eh, excuse me, old chap,––won’t you!” And he hurried alongside the owner of The Lost Durkin Gold Mine.