“I’ve got just two hundred dollars,--not a cent more,--and my board’s paid to the first of the month. So you see I’ve got to get to work at once,” he said. Mr. Madge resumed his seat. “Make me an offer,” he replied, with a shrewd glance at Ben from his watery eyes. “That’s my offer: all I’ve got.” “U-m-m! It’s little enough for the stuff.” As he paused, Ben nerved himself for the hardest part of all--the disclosure of his object in buying the Works. The temptation not to unfold his plan was very strong, but he resisted it. “Lumber’s tol’rable high now,” the old man continued, “and it’s bound to go higher ’fore the year’s out.” A remembrance of the lease urged him to close the bargain at once. “But, if you’re smart enough to sell at a profit--” “Before we come to a settlement, Mr. Madge,” Ben interrupted, “I want to tell you of one reason I have in buying your property. I mean to work over the bricks and soot of the chimney and the ground for gold.” The old man was visibly astonished. “So? For gold! Well, that’s another thing altogether!” he remarked, as the instinct to get the better of a bargain demanded precedence over all others. Then a gleam of avarice shone in his eyes. “Tell you what, boy, if you’re anxious to mine, I kin show you some splendid properties!” He waved his cane in his excitement. “The place to look for gold is in a virgin mine, not in forty-year-old soot!” “I don’t want any mine that can be bought for two hundred dollars,” Ben said with decision. “And I must invest in something right off. I can’t leave my offer open either,” he added as he saw the other make a move to go. “If I don’t buy your ruin, I’ll have to get into something else.” “You are in a hurry, ain’t you? I wish ’t I could persude you to go into a mine. ’Tain’t no use, eh?” he added as Ben shook his head. “Well,” he rose stiffly, “I’ll see you to-morrow ’bout it.” “To-morrow will do. I’ll meet you at the Works at ten o’clock. I’ve got something on hand for the afternoon,” Ben answered. When he was alone the boy tried to formulate a plan of operation, should he succeed in buying the property. His most difficult task was to control his impatience. “I suppose I’ll have to do some more waiting,” he said to himself. “How I wish to-morrow were here!” He knew as well as if Mr. Madge had told him so, that his statement in regard to his funds would not be believed without verification. “He couldn’t take my word for it,” Ben reflected; “but all his digging can’t bring up anything more than the truth. It’s just two hundred dollars,--not a cent more.” Shortly before ten o’clock on the following morning, Ben approached the Works. He crossed the lumpy, uneven ground of the yard and entered the building. As he gazed at the black walls of the structure and through the many holes in the roof where the blue sky looked down, he wished that they might speak and foretell the success or failure of his venture.