After floating one or two small mines successfully, he has some
reputation to lose, while I'm, of course, not an engineer or a business
man." He paused and looked hard at Thirlwell. "I'd like you to stay and
see me through, but wouldn't blame you if you quit."

"My reputation is not worth much and can be risked. Besides, I imagine
we'll get down to the deep vein before the funds run out."

"I hope so! You're not a quitter, and we'll hold on while we can, but I
think we'll talk about something else. Well, I've examined the specimen
of ore you brought back. It looks like high-grade stuff and certainly
carries enough metal to pay for smelting."

"What do you think about Strange's tale?"

Scott knitted his brows. "I did think the man a drunken crank and the
lode an illusion that had grown on him by degrees until he really
believed in the ore. When you get the tanking habit such things happen.
One specimen certainly doesn't prove very much; but since Strange gave
it to his daughter a long time before we knew him, I'm willing to revise
my judgment."

"Miss Strange is persuaded that he did find the lode. She tells me he
led a very industrious and sober life at home."

"It's rather curious you met the girl," Scott observed.

"I don't think so. When we found her address among the truck Strange had
left with the foreman, it was the proper thing for me to tell her he was
drowned. This led to another letter or two, and when I said I was going