The eyes of the party sparkled like the mica--even those of
Barker and Stacy, who were already familiar with the treasure.
"Which is the richest chunk?" asked Steptoe in a thickening voice.
Stacy pointed it out.
"Why, it's smaller than the others."
"Heft it in your hand," said Barker, with boyish enthusiasm.
The short, thick fingers of Steptoe grasped it with a certain aquiline
suggestion; his whole arm strained over it until his face grew purple,
but he could not lift it.
"Thar useter be a little game in the 'Frisco Mint," said Dick, restored
to fluency by his liquor, "when thar war ladies visiting it, and that
was to offer to give 'em any of those little boxes of gold coin, that
contained five thousand dollars, ef they would kindly lift it from the
counter and take it away! It wasn't no bigger than one of these chunks;
but Jiminy! you oughter have seed them gals grip and heave on it, and
then hev to give it up! You see they didn't know anything about the
paci--(hic) the speshif--" He stopped with great dignity, and added with
painful precision, "the specific gravity of gold."
"Dry up!" said Steptoe roughly. Then turning to Stacy he said abruptly,
"But where's the rest of it? You've got more than that."
"We sent it to Boomville this morning. You see we've sold out our claim
to a company who take it up to-morrow, and put up a mill and stamps.
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