"You know," said the studious Smithe, "that there is an enormous waste of material here. Just look at all that water, that magnificent bay. Don't you know, my dear Journegan, that every pint of sea-water holds a small per cent. of gold, yes, real gold, gold that we are playing for every night, gold that we need to pay our bills with—gold—"
"Are you stung, too?" asked Journegan irrelevantly, interrupting the flow of wisdom.
Mr. Smithe eyed him a moment with some concern.
"You interrupted me—I don't understand you," he said.
"Come down. Is that straight, that gold business? Are you stringing me, or is that a chemical fact?" said Journegan.
"I am not in the habit of lying, my friend. That gold remark is a chemical fact, a truth which can be proven by any one familiar with analytical chemistry—"
"And you're stung,—broke, or whatever you choose to call it—same as me, same as some more of the crowd what follows the spinning-wheel. Smithe, you are the goods, you are the real thing, if you're telling the truth. If that gold yarn of yours is true, we win—see?" interrupted the irrepressible Journegan, upon whose mind a great light was dawning, a vast glare of an intellectual day.
"You seem a bit nutty," spake the learned Smithe, breaking at last into the speech of his youth. "What the hell has gold in the sea-water to do with us, hey?"
"It grieves me to hear a learned man speak hastily," said the now calm Journegan, "but you are like many learned ones, perfectly helpless when it comes to applying your knowledge to some purpose, to some real use besides that of entertaining a few half-drunken admirers about a table. Man, we're as good as made if you are straight about that gold business. You're known here as the real thing in chemistry, you're something of a 'Smart Alec' among the push. If you can prove that gold is in that sea-water—it's all to the good—leave it all to me—don't waste time asking questions a babykins would laugh at—come away—come away with your uncle, I want to talk with you—come."
It was only two days later that the announcement was made that the celebrated chemist, Mr. Smithe, and his friend and manager, Mr. Journegan, were buying property along the shore for the purpose of establishing a plant for converting the free gold held in solution in the clear water of the reef to a commercial commodity in the shape of gold dust, which same being worth about twenty dollars per ounce in the coin of the realm. The announcement created some surprise, and also some curious comment coupled with amusement, but the two gentlemen maintained such a dignified silence concerning the affair, and declined with such natural modesty to discuss it in any manner or form, that the idle rich, from at first laughing, came to regard them with respect, then with awe, and finally with a desire to a better acquaintance. Mr. Smithe condescended to shake hands with some of the most curious, told them many interesting yarns and anecdotes to hold their attention, and all the time kept his method a mystery, his discovery a thing which was of far too great importance to talk about to strangers.