"It usually runs fifty, senor," broke in Don Luis. "Sometimes,
for a run of a hundred tons, the ore will show up better than
seventy-five dollars per ton."

"Whew!" whistled Reade. "Then no wonder you call this the land
of golden promise."

"By comparison it would make the mines in the United States look
poor, would it not?" laughed the mine owner.

"There are very few mines there that show frequent runs of fifty
dollars to the ton," Harry observed.

"Are you going to clear out this ore, and send it to the dump"
Tom asked the foreman.

"Yes."

"Then I would be glad if you would do so at once," Tom remarked.

For answer the Mexican foreman stared at Tom in a rather puzzled
way.

"I will do so as soon as I am ordered," he responded, respectfully.

"All right," returned Reade. "I'll give you the order. Clear
this stuff out and get it up in the ore cage. Clear this tunnel
floor with all the speed you comfortably can."