For some minutes the two young engineers picked up specimens and examined them.
"What do you make of it ?" inquired Don Luis Montez at last.
"Is this what you call a run of poor luck ?" Tom asked the foreman, dryly.
"Yes, senor; rather poor," answered the foreman.
"Then it must be rather exciting here when the ore is running well," smiled Tom.

"At a guess I should say that this 'poor' stuff before us will run thirty dollars to the ton." "It usually runs fifty, senor," broke in Don Luis.

"Sometimes, for a run of a hundred tons, the ore will show up better than seventy-five dollars per ton." "Whew!" whistled Reade.

"Then no wonder you call this the land of golden promise." "By comparison it would make the mines in the United States look poor, would it not ?" laughed the mine owner.
"There are very few mines there that show frequent runs of fifty dollars to the ton," Harry observed.
"Are you going to clear out this ore, and send it to the dump" Tom asked the foreman.
"Yes." "Then I would be glad if you would do so at once," Tom remarked.
For answer the Mexican foreman stared at Tom in a rather puzzled way.
"I will do so as soon as I am ordered," he responded, respectfully.
"All right," returned Reade.

"I'll give you the order.