“Yes, sir; an' I kin buy it, lock, stock, and barrel, fer five hundred dollars--the feller that owns it ud jump at it like a duck on a June-bug. That's my secret, Mr. Craig. I hain't one dollar to my name, but from this day on I'm goin' to work hard an' save my money till I own that property. I'm a-goin' down to Atlanta next week, whar people don't know me, an' have a lump of it bigger 'n this examined, an' ef it's gold I 'll own the land sooner or later.” Craig glanced to the rear. “Come back here,” he said. Opening a door at the end of the warehouse, he led Pole into a more retired spot, where they would be free from possible interruption. Then, in a most persuasive voice, he continued: “Baker, you need a man of experience with you in this. Besides, if there is as much of--of that stuff as you say there is, you wouldn't be able to use all you could make out of it. Now, it might take you a long time to get up the money to buy the land, and there is no telling what might happen in the mean time. I'm in a close place, but I could raise five hundred dollars, or even a thousand. My friends still stick to me, you know. The truth is, Baker, I'd like the best in the world to be able to make money to pay back what some of my friends have lost through me.” Pole hung his head. He seemed to be speaking half to himself and on the verge of a smile when he replied: “I'd like to see you pay back some of 'em too, Mr. Craig.” Craig laid his hand gently on Pole's shoulder. “How about lettin' me see the place, Baker?” he said. Pole hesitated, and then he met the ex-banker's look with the expression of a man who has resigned himself to a generous impulse. “Well, some day when you are a-passin' my way, stop in, an' I 'll--” “How far is it?” broke in Craig, pulling his beard with unsteady fingers. “A good fifteen miles from heer,” said Pole. Craig smiled. “Nothin' but an easy ride,” he declared. “I've got a horse doin' nothing in the stable. What's to hinder us from going to-day--this morning--as soon as I can go by for my horse?” “I don't keer,” said Pole, resignedly. “But could you manage to go without anybody knowin' whar you was bound fer?” “Easy enough,” Craig laughed. He was really pleased with Pole's extreme cautiousness. “Then you mought meet me out thar some'r's.” “A good idea--a good idea, Baker.” “Do you know whar the Ducktown road crosses Holly Creek, at the foot o' Old Pine Mountain?” “As well as I know where my house is.” Pole looked at the sun, shading his eyes with his hand. “Could you be thar by eleven o'clock?” “Easy enough, Baker.” “Well, I 'll meet you--I'm a-goin' to trust you, Mr. Craig, an' when you see the vein, ef you think thar's enough money in it fer two--but we can see about that later.” “All right, Baker. I 'll be there. But say,” as Pole was moving away, “you are a drinking man, and get a little off sometimes. You haven't said anything about this where anybody--”