She's a dyke formation, I should say, an' rich.

By the holy, we're made men--made men, Hardy! Detective Downy was too deeply interested in his own quest to pay much attention to the miners.
'Now, my lad,' he said, 'where are we ?' 'The bag's there under them lumps.' Dick held his candle low, throwing its light into the shaft.

Downy dropped from the slabs placed across from drive to drive into the bottom, and going on his knees threw aside the lumps of mullock indicated by the boy.

Dick followed him holding the candle, and watching his movements, anxiously at first, and then with terror.

He flung himself down beside the detective, and plunged his hand amongst the rubble, then ceased and faced the detective, mute, despairing.
'Well, well,' cried Downy in alarm, 'what is it?
'Gone!' whispered Dick.
'Gone?
Are you sure?
We have not searched yet.' 'It's gone!' 'You may have made a mistake.