"Yes, my partner, Missoo," repeated Harry, wondering what was the matter.
"They don't happen to call you Gent out here, do they?"
"That's my name."
"Harry," said Bill, actually winking away a tear. "I'm the proudest chap that ever walked to think that I know you. Will you shake hands?"
Harry blushed as he gave him his hand, knowing that Bill must have heard the story of the burning mine.
Bill shook his hand as if he had never had such a treat before.
"And you," said he, his eyes shining, "are Gent, that went down that shaft. Harry, I don't believe there is another boy in the whole United States would have done a thing like that. Won't Beth be glad you saved her when I tell her that!"
"Please don't say any more about that," pleaded Harry. "Tell me about the gold mine."
"Shake hands once more first," said Bill. "Think of having that to tell Mr. Dewey! Oh, well, I won't say any more! About the gold mine. Oh, yes! The man, after he had said there were no gold mines, told how some Easterners had been let in for a salted mine, and how it was called Tiny Hill Gold Mine even now, when it was as certain as fate that it had nothing but silver in it. Well, I didn't need to be told that name twice. I knew it was my mine, and I got the direction and went straight for it; and there I found my man smoking a cigar in front of the cabin, with a tough-looking specimen sitting on the door-sill."
"Little Dick," observed Harry.