Casey felt like that now.
He had laughed over his loss then, and he grinned now and reached carelessly to the bank beside him as if he fully expected to lay his hand on the specimen of gold-bearing rock.

He went so far as to utter a surprised oath when he failed to find it.

He felt in his pockets.
He went forward and scanned the top of the ledge almost convincingly.
He turned and stood a-straddle, his hands on his hips, and gazed on the pile of dirt he had thrown out of the hole.

Last, he pushed his hat back so that with the next movement he could push it forward again over his eyebrow.
"Now if that there lump uh high-grade ain't went an' slid down the bank an' got covered up with the muck!" he exclaimed disgustedly.

"I'm a son of a gun if Fate ain't playin' agin' Casey Ryan with a flock uh aces under its vest!" Mack Nolan laughed, and Casey slanted a look his way.