United States or Republic of the Congo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Then why are you so sure he found something?" "Because he told me so," Johnny Coombs said quietly. The boys looked at each other. "He actually said he'd found a rich lode?" Tom asked eagerly. "Not exactly," Johnny said. "Matter of fact, he never actually told me what he'd found.
Leastways, if they did, they didn't make any move to get me." "Where have you been?" "I've been up in the hills for a few days prospecting." "Did you find the mine?" inquired Tom, forgetting the raid and pursuit in his eagerness to learn about the Lost Lode. "No, I didn't. I just learned another trail, which isn't the right one."
Casey killed the engine and got out a bit stiffly, pried off a chew of tobacco and gazed pensively at Barren Butte that held Lucky Lode, where the widow was cooking supper at that moment. Casey wished practically that he was there and could sit down to some of her culinary achievements. "I sure would like to flop m'lip over one of her biscuits right now," he said aloud.
It was past supper time at Lucky Lode when Casey arrived, staggering a little with exhaustion, both mental and physical. His eyes were bloodshot with the hot wind, his face was purple from the same wind, his lips were dry and rough. I cannot blame the men at Lucky Lode for a sudden thirst when they saw him coming, and a hope that he still had a little left.
He asked the girl to delay somewhat the preparations for their evening meal, as he wished to take a bath, so it was quite dark when they sat down to eat. Iris had long recovered her usual state of high spirits. "Why were you burrowing in the cavern again?" she inquired. "Are you in a hurry to get rich?" "I was following an air-shaft, not a lode," he replied.
He had promised the girl his help, and when the hole was sunk he chose the best spot for the next with fastidious care. He meant to play a straight game, although it would cost him much to let her win. By and by the miner picked up some of the bits of stone. "Weight's all right; guess the stuff's carrying heavy metal," he remarked. "Still, I've seen a lode pinch out.
Perhaps Dick's 'way in the mountains, away from the railroad, prospectin' down in the Ghost Range, where he has been tryin' to locate the lost lode. There's lots of reasons for his not writing to Echo. But Echo doesn't seem to mind. A year an' a half is enough to mend any woman's heart."
"The company does not pay for the guesses of its engineers." None too willingly Slade took the end of the small steel-ribbon engineer's tape that was held out to him. Lennon measured the width of the copper ledges, noted the trend and dip of the immense lode, and calculated its thickness where exposed. Samples were then gathered.
The towns, like the vineyards, are experimentally founded: they grow great and prosper by passing occasions; and when the lode comes to an end, and the miners move elsewhere, the town remains behind them, like Palmyra in the desert. I suppose there are, in no country in the world, so many deserted towns as here in California.
But under the law, when you locate a lode, you can follow that vein, within an extension of your end-lines, under anybody's ground. Anybody's!" He shifted his chair a little closer and fixed her with his fighting blue eyes. "Now, just to show you how it works," he went on, "take me, for instance.
Word Of The Day