"You'll get it, by grab, as soon as I do," returned Denver with considerable heat. "What's the matter? Ain't that ore shipment good enough security?" "Well, maybe it is," conceded Bunker, "but you'll have a long wait for your money. And to tell you the truth, the way I'm fixed now, I can't sell except for cash." "Oh! Cash, eh?" sneered Denver suddenly bristling with resentment. "It seems like I've heard that before. In fact, every time that I ask you for a favor you turn me down like a bum. I came through here, one time, so danged weak I could hardly crawl and you refused to even give me a meal; and now, when I've got a mine that's worth millions, you've still got your hand out for the money." "Well, now don't get excited," spoke up Bunker pacifically, "you can have what grub you want. But I'm telling you the truth--those people down below won't give me another dollar's worth on tick. These are hard times, boy, the hardest I've ever seen, and if you'd offer me that mine back for five hundred cents I couldn't raise the money. That shows how broke I am, and I've got a family to support." "Well, that's different," said Denver. "If you're broke, that settles it. But I'll tell you one thing, old-timer, you won't be broke long. I'm going to open up a mine here that will beat the Lost Burro. I've got copper, and that beats 'em all." "Sure does," agreed Bunker, "but it's no good for shipping ore. It takes millions to open up a copper property." "Yes, and it brings back millions!" boasted Denver with a swagger. "I'm made, if I can only hold onto it. But I'll tell you right now, if you want to hold your claims you'd better do a little assessment work. There's going to be a rush, when this strike of mine gets out, that'll make your ground worth millions." Old Bunk smiled indulgently and took a chew of tobacco and Denver came back to earth. "I'll tell you what I'll do," proposed Denver after a silence, "I'll take a contract to do your assessment work for ten dollars a claim, in trade. I'll make an open cut that's four by six by ten, and that's held to be legal work anywhere. Come on now, I'm tired of beans." "Well, come down to supper," replied Bunker at last, "and we'll talk it over there." "No, I don't want any supper," returned Denver resentfully, "you've got enough hoboes to feed. You can give me an answer, right now." "All right--I won't do it," replied Bunker promptly and turned to go out the door; but it had opened behind them and Drusilla stood there smiling, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "What are you two men quarreling about?" she demanded reprovingly, "we could hear you clear over to the house." "Well, I asked him over to supper," began Bunker in a rage, "and----"