"Sure I do!--the white mare. She's a good enough horse, a beauty to look at, but there aren't any millionaires around Vernock going to give you five hundred dollars for her. A hundred and fifty is plenty for a good riding horse these days."

"Say!--whose horse is it, anyway?"

"Yours,--I presume!" said Phil.

"Who's buying the horse?"

"Not me!"

"All right,--keep out!"

Phil smiled.

Dalton twisted up his face and turned to Hannington.

"Well, boss,--is it a go?"

Hannington demurred, then he showed a little decision, which Phil was beginning to think he was entirely devoid of.

"No!--I'm dimmed if I'll pay that much for her. I want the horse because she's white all over and there isn't another like her in colour about the bally town. I like things different, by gad! But I simply won't be put upon. No, dim it, dim it all,--I just won't!"

Dalton walked away without a word, then he whirled on his heel and came slowly back.

"Want a mine--a gold mine?"

Percival DeRue Hannington, ever ready to nibble, showed interest.

"Say, Rattlesnake, forget it! Darn it all, do you think you are talking to a crazy man?"

"See here, Ralston!--why don't you live up to your pet name and keep your trap shut? b.u.t.t out!" exclaimed Dalton, curling his upper lip in evident disgust.

"It's an honest-to-goodness gold mine, Mr. Hannington, and I hold all the rights to it."

Phil addressed his friend.

"Don't be foolish now. Everybody in Vernock knows about Dalton's mine.

He can't give it away."

"Say, Ralston! if I was big as you and as ugly, I'd knock your face in. Mind your own dirty business and keep out. Mr. Hannington is a man-sized man, with a man-sized bean-pot and doesn't need a wet nurse with him. He knows whether he wants a mine or not," said Dalton sourly.

Phil's eyes flashed anger.

"Now, Phil, please!" put in Hannington. "Really you mustn't quarrel. And you never know, you know;--there really have been old, good-for-nothing mines and things that have turned out wonderful."

Phil shrugged his shoulders.

"Go to it!" he said. "It's your funeral."

"Oh, come now! Don't be playing the bally Dead March over me because of a silly mine.

"Mr. Dalton, what name does this gold mine go by?"

"The Lost Durkin Gold Mine!"

Hannington's face lit up as he caught an inward glimpse of himself as the owner.

"Lost Durkin! Deuced romantic name, you know! Isn't it, Phil?"

Phil failed to respond.

"But why Lost Durkin, Mr. Dalton?"

"It's like this: Durkin and another guy were the discoverers of this ere mine. It panned out,--well!--n.o.body knowed for sure certain how it panned out; only Durkin and his pal always had lots of nuggets and dust. Durkin's pal went away and Durkin worked it all by hisself. They say he struck it rich in a vein and went batty over it. Anyway, he acted queer for a time. One day his hat was found in the tunnel, and no sign of Durkin from that day to this.

"Durkin's pal, Don Flannigan, without ever comin' back, sold out the mine to Jem Grierson. Grierson sold to me. It ain't been worked to speak of since Durkin tried it out. The gold might be lyin' there just for the pickin' up."

"Oh, say, Rattlesnake!--come off," interposed Phil.

"Why, Hannington,--every hobo that has come to this Valley is open to have a go at it any old time he likes."

"Not on your tin tacks! I hold the mining rights to it, and n.o.body else. Just let somebody try it on!" put in Dalton.

"But there must be some gold in it, Phil!" remarked Hannington.

"Sure,--about four dollars a day hard working!"

"By jove!--if there's that, there might be more, you know."

"Yes, and there might not!"

"If the gold was absolutely sure, Phil, you know n.o.body would sell.

Would they? A man has got to take a chawnce.

"What do you want for the bally thing, Mr. Dalton?"

"One thousand plunks," remarked Dalton without a tremor.

"Plunks?"

"Yes, plunks,--bucks!"

"Bucks?"

"Yes,--plunks, bucks, greenbacks, In-G.o.d-We-Trusts, D-O-double L-A-R-S."

"Two hundred quid!" figured Hannington roughly, who, for the proper realisation of actual values still had the habit of converting his dollars into English coinage.

"Tisn't much for a gold mine, Phil,--is it now?"?