Parkinson's face was still invisible to Darrell, but the latter heard a
long, low whistle of surprise. Young Whitcomb looked jubilant.
"They say figures won't lie," he added, in tones of boyish enthusiasm,
"but if you don't believe those figures, I've got the cash right here to
show for it," accompanying the words with a significant gesture.
Parkinson handed the slip to Hunter, then leaned back in his seat,
giving Darrell a view of his profile.
"Sixty days!" he said, musingly. "Seventy-five thousand dollars! I think
I would like to take a look at the Bird Mine! I think I would like to
make Mr. Underwood's acquaintance!"
Whitcomb laughed exultingly. "I'll give you an opportunity to do both if
you'll stop over," he said; "and don't you forget that my uncle can give
you some pointers on the Ajax, for he knows every mine in the State."
Mr. Hunter here handed the slip of paper to Whitcomb. "Young man," he
said, with some severity, gazing fixedly at Whitcomb through his
eye-glasses, "do you mean to say that you are travelling with
seventy-five thousand dollars on your person?"
"Certainly, sir," Whitcomb replied, evidently enjoying the situation.
Mr. Hunter shook his head. "Very imprudent!" he commented. "You are
running a tremendous risk. I wonder that your uncle would permit it!"
"Oh, that's all right," said Whitcomb, confidently. "Uncle usually comes
down himself with the shipments of bullion, and he generally banks the
most of his money there at Galena, but he couldn't very well leave this
time, so he sent me, and as he was going to use considerable money
paying for a lot of improvements we've put in and paying off the men, he
told me to bring back the cash. There's not much danger anyway; the West
isn't as wild nowadays as it used to be."
Handing a second bit of paper to Parkinson, he added: "There's something
else that will interest you; the results of some assays made by the
United States Assay Office on some samples taken at random from a new
strike we made last week. I'll show you some of the samples, too."
"Great Scott!" ejaculated Parkinson, running his eye over the returns.
"You seem to have a mine there, all right!"
"Sure thing! You'll think so when you see it," Whitcomb answered,
fumbling in a grip at his feet.
At sight of the specimens of ore which he produced a moment later, his
two companions became nearly as enthusiastic as himself. Leaning eagerly
forward, they began an inspection of the samples, commenting on their
respective values, while Whitcomb, unfolding a tracing of the workings
of the mine, explained the locality from which each piece was taken, its
depth from the surface, the width and dip of the vein, and other items
of interest.