"Do you suppose this land is valuable?"
"For farming purposes it isn't worth a cent, and unless the owner knows what is here it could be bought for a song."
"What is the price of a song according to that estimate?"
"Well, say a thousand dollars for a hundred acres."
"But you wouldn't need as much in order to get at this vein."
"Buildings would be necessary after a while, an' you'd want a track to get the coal into market."
"Don't you suppose we could manage to get a thousand dollars?"
"If you count on doin' it by workin' at Farley's, it would take about a thousand years. All the money I can earn has to be used by the family now that father isn't working."
"But can we do nothin'?"
"It does seem kinder tough to find a fortune, and not be able to take advantage of it, but I can't figure out how we can turn it to account."
"Let's fill our pockets with these pieces, and tell Mr. Wright what we've struck."
"Yes, an' before to-morrow night he'd own this whole tract. It would be wiser to see what Bill an' Joe think about the chances of raisin' money."
"Very well, we'll talk with them. It won't do to leave this uncovered, an' I'm in a hurry to get back."
The earth was scraped, and above this the boys strewed branches and leaves until one might have searched a long while without discovering the secret.
Then, walking at their best pace, the successful prospectors continued on toward Farley's, trying in vain to suppress their excitement.
Those whom they wished to consult were at the mine, and without even stopping to tell Mrs. Byram of their discovery they went directly to the slope.
Bill and Joe were in the second level, at some distance from the other workmen when the boys arrived.
"What do you think of that?" Fred asked, excitedly, as he held out one of his specimens.
Bill, supposing he was to see a rare sight, brought his cap-lamp close to the object for a second, and then said angrily:
"Haven't you boys got anything better to do than bring coal in here for us to look at? We see enough of that stuff without luggin' it around in our pockets."
"But this didn't come from Farley's."
"Well, s'posin it didn't, what of that?" and Bill threw the coal far down the drift.
"Not much, except that Sam and I found a vein three miles from any settlement."
"What?" both the miners cried in the same breath, and Bill ran to pick up what he had thrown away so contemptuously.
Fred began and Sam ended the story of the "find," and while they were talking Bill turned the specimen over and over, saying when they concluded:
"If as good coal as that shows at the surface it must be a big vein."
"It is, but how can we take advantage of the discovery? Sam thinks the land could be bought for a thousand dollars."
"Then you must buy it."
"How could we raise so much money?"
"People don't allers pay cash for what they buy. You might get it for two or three hundred dollars down, with a mortgage for the balance."
"Even then I don't see how it can be done."
"Nor I jest now, but we'll figure the thing out to-night at your house. Joe an' me will be there after supper. Don't tell anyone except your mother, 'nd when you boys are rich I speak for the job of breaker boss."
Then Bill and Joe, hardly less excited than their younger companions, resumed the interrupted labor, and the amateur prospectors went to tell the wonderful news to Mrs. Byram.
Fred's mother was not as elated as the boys thought the occasion demanded, but when the miners arrived, and appeared to be so sanguine that the discovery would be of great pecuniary benefit to those who made it she became greatly interested.
The main question was how to raise the necessary money with which to purchase the land, and this had not been answered when the party broke up at a late hour.
"We'll figger it out somehow," Bill said as the visitors arose to depart. "It's been sprung so sudden like that we haven't had time. Joe an' me will learn who owns the land first, an' then some of us'll get a bright idee."
With these cheering words the meeting was adjourned, and Sam and Fred went to bed to dream of becoming millionaires through the accident which befell the latter as he fell over the spur of coal.
Next morning, however, they awoke to the fact that the day's provisions depended upon their labors in the store, and as this was also the first step toward earning sufficient money with which to buy the land, both were on hand at an unusually early hour.
"I want you to go over to Blacktown bank," Mr. Wright said to Sam when he entered the building. "The train leaves in half an hour, and since you can return by the same conveyance there is no reason why I should give two boys a holiday, as I did yesterday."
"I will be ready in time, sir," Sam replied, and Fred whispered:
"Why not walk home, and see if anybody has been fooling around the spur we found."
"That's jest what I'll do, providin' it is possible to get back before the train is due. There can't be any kickin' if I'm here an hour or two ahead of time."
A package of papers and a bank book was given to Sam by the cashier, who said, warningly:
"Here are two thousand dollars in checks, and you are to bring back eight hundred dollars in change. Be careful what you do, and come home on the first train after the business has been done."
"I don't reckon any one would kick if I walked instead of waitin' until afternoon for the cars," Sam said as he took the documents.
"It isn't very safe to come across the mountains with so much cash; but I don't suppose there is any danger," the man replied, and Sam glanced meaningly at Fred as he left the building.
"I wish I hadn't said anything to him about looking at the vein," Fred muttered to himself as his companion disappeared from view. "It would be better if he came directly back without thinking of what will never bring us in a cent of money."
It was too late now, however, to regret the words which had been spoken, and Fred found plenty with which to busy himself during the remainder of the day.
At noon a telegram came for Mr. Wright, and in response to what was probably an imperative summons, he started for the city on the next train; the one on which Sam would have returned had he not determined to walk across the mountain.
An hour passed, and yet the messenger was absent.