"Any old thing that the folks take a fancy to will catch my share
of the gold," Harry promised.
"But, of course, we'll wait until we get it."
"You haven't any doubts about getting the gold, have you?"
"Not a doubt. Have you?"
"I'm an optimist," Harry asserted.
"What's your idea of an optimist, anyway?" laughed Tom.
"An optimist is a fellow who believes that banknotes grow on potato
vines," laughed Harry.
"Oh, we'll get our gold all right," Reade predicted.
"We will, and a lot more. Tom, you and I still have mineral rights
that we can file, with Ferrers as trustee."
"We'll go prospecting for two more bully claims just as soon as
we begin to see pay-rock coming out of this vein," Tom planned.
"Alf, you lazy cigarette fiend, hurry up and bring me some more
of the canned meat."
"Bring me another cup of coffee on the jump," called Harry. "While
you're about it make it two cups of coffee."
As soon as he had brought the required things Alf tried slyly to
slip away by himself, for he had already had his own supper.
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