“How do you do, Mr. Mundon?” he replied. “Yes, I think it will need an arastra to crush the bricks.” His grave face showed that already the cares of the undertaking were preying upon him. “Don’t you mind the sneers and laughs of anybody,” the man said, with a sturdy independence that Ben liked. “You’ve got a good proposition. I’ve seen it done in Australia and a big pile cleaned up. They do it in this country, too; and if this old chap you bought it from didn’t have the mining fever so bad, he’d have done it years ago.” “Evidently, it hasn’t occurred to him--or anybody,” said Ben. “No; he’s too high to be a gleaner; wants real mines with drifts and tunnels and mills to make his money melt. Now’f I was goin’ to do this job, I’d put in a rough ’rastra--just a round bed of bricks, with a two-foot wall ’round it.” Ben did not reply, but he tried to look wise. “That’s about your plan, I reckon?” “Yes,” the boy said, “I’ve been thinking that an arastra, such as you describe, would be the best thing.” “Then you know all about one, of course?” “No, I don’t; not by a long sight. I’ve seen one at work, but I didn’t pay much attention to it--I was so young at the time.” “O, in that case p’raps you’d like to have me describe one to you?” “I would, indeed,” Ben fervently replied. “Well, it’s just a round bed of bricks, with a two-foot wall ’round it. I’d build that the first thing, if I was you, and put in the rubbish, a little at a time. You want to put in some quicksilver with it. Then I’d get a horse or a mule ter drag ’round a weight till the bricks and mortar was well crushed.” “Would you put the stuff in wet or dry?” “Wet; and you want consid’able water, too. I tell you, it’s pretty to see how the quicksilver’ll pick up ’most every mite of gold and hug to the bottom with it!” Ben’s eyes shone. “It must be!” he said. “And afterwards--what do you do next? I’ve heard, but I’ve kind of forgotten just what comes next.” “You throw off your coarse stuff from the top and strain the quicksilver through buckskin.” “Will it go through?” “Will it? Well, you just ought ter see it come through the buckskin till there’s little looking-glass tears all over it.” “And after that?” “Well, you finish it all off in a retort with a long tube. Build a fire under it, and your quicksilver that’s left will ’vaporate, leavin’ the gold behind.” “I should think you’d lose a lot.” “Of quicksilver, you mean? No, you don’t; ’cause you got ter keep the tube cold and have the end of it sunk in water. Then the quicksilver’ll condense again--so you won’t lose much of it. My! how them lumps of gold will shine to you, eh?”