“Talk about a needle in a haystack,” growled Tom, “this beats it.”
“You talk as if you were sitting on the needle,” declared Jim. “Try to talk cheerful even if you do feel bad.”
“It isn’t quite as bad as it looks, Tom,” said Jeems encouragingly. “You see that mountain with the rocky hump on it. That mine, according to my calculations from the chart we have, ought to be there or within two miles of it.”
“We will dig over every inch of that mountain,” declared Tom, his eyes shining with enthusiasm, for he dearly loved money.
“We don’t want you to become a miser, Tom,” said Jim judiciously, “so I will appoint a committee to take care of your share.”
“Eh?” cried Tom, his jaw dropping, then recovering, he yelled, “No you won’t, James Darlington, I’ll go to law. You can’t cheat me of my rights.” Tom was pale with anger and Jim was disgusted.
“Ah, go on with you,” he said, “you are nothing but an Eastern money shark, anyway.”