"Can’t even wash my face without totin’ water, or goin’ up to th’ sump. Th’ crick’s like it is out there for as far up as I’ve been. If it wasn’t for a sump I’ve dug in a sandy place in its bed I’d had no water at all." He reached into his pocket and produced several bits of gold, none of them much larger than a grain of wheat. "Found these when I was gettin’ water just now. That sump’s goin’ to go deeper right quick, ’though I’m scared I’ll lose my water." "What’ll they weigh?" asked Tex curiously, handing them back. "About a pennyweight, I reckon," replied Blascom. Tex shook his head. "Not them. You’ve got too trustin’ a nature. Yo’re too hopeful: but I reckon that’s what makes miners." Blascom arose, dropped the flecks into a scale pan and dug around in the tin box. There was a metallic clink and the two pans slowly sought the same level. "Couple of grains under," he announced. "About twenty-two, I’d say. That’s close figgerin’, close enough for a guess." "Cussed good," complimented Tex as the prospector put back the weights and dumped the gold out into his hand. "I ain’t never dug out no hunks of gold an’ I’m curious. If you aim to put that sump down farther I’m just itchin’ to give you a hand. Come on--what you say?" "You’d be a mess, sloppin’ around with me," laughed Blascom. He shook his head. "Better set down an’ watch me, lendin’ yore valuable advice; or stay here an’ keep out of th’ sun." "I can do that in town." Blascom considered, looking dubiously at his guest’s clothes. "Here," he said, finally. "You can help me more by carryin’ water an’ fillin’ up everythin’ in here that’ll hold it. After I get through wrastlin’ with a pan in that sump th’ water won’t be fit to drink before mornin’. That suit you?" "Good enough," declared Tex, arising and picking up the buckets. "Come on: reveal yore gold mine. I’m a first-class claim jumper. You had yore dinner yet?" Blascom shook his head, picked up a shovel and his gold pan and led the way. "That can wait. It ain’t often I have any free help forced on me an’ I’d be a sucker to let an empty belly cut in." "I can cook, too," said Tex. "After I fill th’ hut with water I’ll get you a meal that’ll make you glad yo’re livin’; but you got to come after it to eat it; an’ when I yell, you come a-runnin’. If you don’t I’ll eat it myself." The sump lay about a hundred yards up the creek bed, around a bend which was covered with a thin growth of sickly willows and box elders. It was a hole about two feet square, the sandy sides held up by a cribwork of sticks, pieces of boxes, and barrel staves. Blascom dipped both pails in and started back with them. "Wait a minute," objected Tex, reaching for them. "Thought you was goin’ after nuggets while I toted th’ water?"