“Gold!” he ejaculated.
“Yes, gold! See, pounds of gold! I found it—washed it out of the stream—picked it out grain by grain, nugget by nugget!”
“Gold!” he cried.
“Yes. Now—now laugh at my secret!”
For a long minute Venters gazed. Then he stretched forth a hand to feel if the gold was real.
“Gold!” he almost shouted. “Bess, there are hundreds—thousands of dollars’ worth here!”
He leaned over to her, and put his hand, strong and clenching now, on hers.
“Is there more where this came from?” he whispered.
“Plenty of it, all the way up the stream to the cliff. You know I’ve often washed for gold. Then I’ve heard the men talk. I think there’s no great quantity of gold here, but enough for—for a fortune for you.”
“That—was—your—secret!”