“No, suh; if we fail at the 300 foot level, suh, and yo’ can furnish the money, we will start the next mornin’ fo’ the 400 foot level; but I assure yo’, suh, I have no idea yo ‘ll have to furnish any mo’ money. Gray Rocks is a sure winner; it is indeed, suh. The oldest miners in the camp say that if we stick to Gray Rocks it will be worth mo’ in five years than Rufus Grim’s Peacock mine. When I was yo’r age, Mr. Gilder,” he continued, blowing a cloud of smoke away out of the window toward Gray Rocks, “I could not have stuck to that property year after year as I have been doin’. Why suh, it took a quarter of a century’s experience fo’ me to learn that a rollin’ stone gathers no moss’. it did indeed, suh. Now I have observed the fellows that strike it, in nine cases out of ten, are the ones who follow up and hold on after they once strike a trail. Why, suh, if yo’ had seen the float rock that I found befo’ stakin’ out Gray Rocks, yo’ would know why I believe there is an entire hill full of wealth over yonder.”
While they were talking there came a gentle rap on the door. Vance called out for them to “come in. The door opened, and a boy sidled into the room with a letter in his hand and asked for Col. Bonifield.
“At yo’r service, suh,” said the old miner’ rising with much dignity. “Thank yo’, suh,” said he, taking the letter. The boy took himself off, closing the door behind him, while the colonel, adjusting his glasses, read aloud the address, “Miss Louise Bonifield.”
Dropping his glasses from his eyes, he placed the letter in his pocket and said: “Mr. Boast has evidently returned to Gold Bluff.”
“Mr. Boast, did you say?” asked Vance.
“Yes, suh, Mr. Boast—a young man in whom I have only the slightest confidence. His full name is J. Arthur Boast. His father, Colonel Boast, lives on a ranch about three miles from here.”
Vance could never explain why, but the unfavorable opinion he had formed of J. Arthur Boast while at Waterville was in the twinkling of an eye changed to hatred. Soon after, Colonel Bonifield took his departure, and Vance commenced preparing for his next day’s fishing-jaunt. His door had been left ajar, and presently he heard a squeaky, ill-omened voice that he well remembered.
“How do you do, Mr. Gilder?”
Vance turned and saw J. Arthur Boast standing at his door. “How do you do,” said Vance, rather abruptly.
“I did not expect to find you at Gold Bluff,” said Boast in an insinuating tone of voice.