“Did you get my telegram? Answer me that, Valentine Blount.”
“I did, and have come over to this tight little island at great personal inconvenience, as you may have observed, Mr. Tregonwell!”
“Have you any recollection of our buying a half share in a prospecting silver claim, of four men’s ground, in the West Coast?”
“I do seem to recall some such transaction, just before I left for Australia. All the fellows I met in the Hobart Club told me it was a swindle, and advised me not to put a pound in it.”
“That was the reason that you did invest in it, if I know you.”
“Precisely, I’ve rarely taken advice against my own judgment that I haven’t regretted it. Did it turn out well?”
“Well! Well? It’s the richest silver lode in the island, in all Australasia—” almost shouted Tregonwell—“fifty feet wide; gets richer, and richer as it goes down. I’ve been offered twenty thousand pounds, cash down, for my half; you could get the same if you care to take it.”
“I’ve a great mind to take it,” said Blount languidly “—mines are so uncertain. Here to-day, gone to-morrow.”
“Take it?” said his partner, with frenzied air, and trembling with excitement, “take it! Well!”—suddenly changing his tone—“I’ll give you a drive this afternoon, capital cabs they have here, and the best horses I’ve seen out of England. The way they rattle down these hills on the metal is marvellous! We can’t start for the mine till to-morrow morning; I suppose you’d like to see it? But if you’re determined to sell, I’d like you to see a friend of mine first. He has a magnificent place a few miles out. He’d be charmed to meet you, I’m sure.”
“Certainly, by all means. What’s your friend’s name? Is he a squatter or a fruit-grower? They seem to be the leading industries over here.”