"What'll you bet this pans out the same?"

"I never bet. No one but a fool will gamble." Cash pressed his
lips together in a way that drove the color from there.

"Oh, yuh don't! Say, you're the king bee of all gamblers. Been
prospecting for fifteen years, according to you--and then
you've got the nerve to say you don't gamble!"

Cash ignored the charge. He picked up a piece of rock and held
it to the fading light. "It looks good," he said again. "Better
than that placer ground down by the creek. That's all right, too.
We can wash enough gold there to keep us going while we develop
this. That is, if this proves as good as it looks."

Bud looked across at him enigmatically. "Well, here's hoping
she's worth a million. You go ahead with your tests, Cash. I'll
wash the dishes."

"Of course," Cash began to conserve his enthusiasm, "there's
nothing so sure as an assay. And it was too dark in the hole to
see how much was uncovered. This may be just a freak deposit.
There may not be any real vein of it. You can't tell until it's
developed further. But it looks good. Awful good."

His makeshift tests confirmed his opinion. Bud started out next
day with three different samples for the assayer, and an air
castle or two to keep him company. He would like to find himself
half owner of a mine worth about a million, he mused. Maybe Marie