How many mice were nosing about was the question, and of the number how many would be inside when the spring snapped?
The Colonel, after a nod of his head and a reassuring glance from his host, took full charge of the field, soaring away with minute accounts of the last inspection of the mine.

He told how the "tailings" at Mukton City had panned out 30 per cent, to the ton--with two hundred thousand tons in the dump thrown away until the new smelter was started and they could get rid of the sulphides; of what Aetna Cobb's Crest had done and Beals Hollow and Morgan Creek--all on the same ridge, and was about launching out on the future value of Mukton Lode when Mason broke the silence by asking if any one present had heard of a mine somewhere in Nevada which an Englishman had bought and which had panned out $1,200 to the ton the first week and not a cent to the square mile ever afterward?
The Chicago man was the most important mouse of the lot, and the tone of his voice and his way of speaking seemed fraught with a purpose.
Breen leaned forward in rapt attention, and even Hodges and Portman (both of them were loaded to the scuppers with Mukton) stopped talking.
"Slickest game I ever heard of," continued Mason.

"Two men came into town--two poor prospectors, remember--ran across the Englishman at the hotel--told the story of their claim: 'Take it or leave it after you look it over,' they said.

Didn't want but sixty thousand for it; that would give them thirty thousand apiece, after which they'd quit and live on a ranch.

No, they wouldn't go with him to inspect the mine; there was the map.