"I'm going down the mine; though, as it doesn't belong to me now, I don't know why. Still, it's close on bottom, and I'd like to try the colour of the dirt I broke out on Saturday."
He went down the notched pole, and filled the bucket Sewell lowered after him, and, when the latter hove it up, they proceeded to the creek, and the others sat down while Ingleby washed out its contents. Neither of them showed any particular interest in what he was doing. They had been some time in the gold-bearing region now, and had discovered that it is generally wise to expect very little. Then Ingleby scrambled up the bank with a curious look in his face, and gravely held out the pan.
"Placer mining is a tolerably uncertain thing, but here's a result I never anticipated two or three days ago," he said. "Look at this!"
They bent over the pan, and their faces grew intent at the sight of the little grains of metal in its bottom. Then Leger looked up with a gasp.
"You've struck it again," he said. "Apparently as rich as ever!"
Ingleby stood still a moment, gazing straight in front of him with vacant eyes, and one hand closed a trifle at his side.
"Yes," he said harshly. "The second time, and once more it's of no use to me. When I recorded as part-owner of Tomlinson's claim, this one fell in to the Crown. You're on the lead, Tom, and you'll strike it, too; but you can get your stakes in, Sewell. Sunday's an off day, or the major would have had his notice out by now."
It was a relief to do anything just then, and he cut and drove in two of the location pegs the law required. Then when the last was driven he turned to Sewell with grim quietness.
"Well," he said, "why don't you get away and make your record? There's no reason you should throw away a fortune, too."
Sewell smiled a little. "For one thing, Major Coulthurst would certainly not be up when I reached his office. For another, before I record the claim there's something to be said. The law, you see, cannot be expected to cover every contingency, and, if you look at it from one point of view, the claim is still yours. I'll buy the goodwill of you, if you'll take my bill."
Ingleby shook his head impatiently. "I can't sell you what isn't mine," he answered. "Anybody who thinks it worth while can record that claim. It belongs to the Crown. I have my share in Tomlinson's mine, and, in one respect, I'm not sorry to see this one come into your possession. You, at least, would not consider the gold you took out belonged to yourself."