"That's gold, all right," muttered McTeague, studying the contents of
the spoon.
"You bet your great-grandma's Cochin-China Chessy cat it's gold,"
shouted Cribbens. "Here, now, we got a lot to do. We got to stake her
out an' put up the location notice. We'll take our full acreage, you
bet. You--we haven't weighed this yet. Where's the scales?" He weighed
the pinch of gold with shaking hands. "Two grains," he cried. "That'll
run five dollars to the ton. Rich, it's rich; it's the richest kind of
pay, pardner. We're millionaires. Why don't you say something? Why don't
you get excited? Why don't you run around an' do something?"
"Huh!" said McTeague, rolling his eyes. "Huh! I know, I know, we've
struck it pretty rich."
"Come on," exclaimed Cribbens, jumping up again. "We'll stake her out
an' put up the location notice. Lord, suppose anyone should have come
on her while we've been away." He reloaded his revolver deliberately.
"We'll drop HIM all right, if there's anyone fooling round there; I'll
tell you those right now. Bring the rifle, pardner, an' if you see
anyone, PLUG him, an' ask him what he wants afterward."
They hurried back to where they had made their discovery.
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