"Take a good look at the stuff, Harry," called Tom, as soon as
he saw two of the workmen dumping it.
Then Reade closed the door, and went back to the furnace that
he had rigged up under the chimney at one end of the shack.
"Oh, what's the use?" sighed Hazelton, to himself, as he paused,
irresolute. "In weeks and weeks we haven't brought up enough
gold to pay for the keep of the horses."
Still, as Tom had asked him to do so, Hazelton presently walked
over to the little pile that had just been dumped.
"You men up there work faster," sounded Jim's voice. "We want
to send up a tub every five minutes."
"Want the team yet?" bawled the teamster, from another shack.
"No," Harry answered. "Not for a half an hour yet."
That question was enough to cause the young engineer to forget
that he had intended to inspect the tub-load of ore. He strolled
back to the head of the shaft. The wind was biting keenly today.
Harry was dressed in the warmest clothing he had, yet his feet
felt like lumps of lead in his shoes.
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