"So qvick? _Ach! das ist nicht sehr gut._ You vill der poor olt assay-meister maig to vork on der nide. But because you haf der goot Cherman in your moud I vill it do. Vat you haf?" Jeffard unwrapped the samples one by one, and the assayer examined them with many dubious head-shakings. The amateur made haste to anticipate the preliminary verdict. "I know they're valueless," he admitted, "but I have a partner who will require your certificate before he will be convinced. Can you let us know to-morrow?" "Because you haf der Cherman, yes. But it vill be no goot; der silwer iss not dere"--including the various specimens in a comprehensive gesture. Jeffard turned to go, slinging the lightened haversack over his shoulder. At the door he bethought him of the curious fragment of quartz picked up on the dump of the abandoned tunnel. It was in his pocket, and he rummaged till he found it. "Can you tell me anything about this?" he asked. "It seems to be a decomposed quartzite, matted on a base of some sort,--a metal, I should say." The little German snatched the bit of quartz, and ogled it eagerly through his eye-glass. "_Mein Gott im Himmel!_" he cried; and the eye-glass fell to the floor and rolled under the bench. "Iss it possible dot you know him not? Dot iss golt, _mein lieber freund_,--vire golt, reech, reech! Vere you got him? Haf you got some more _von_ dis?" Jeffard took it in vaguely, and tried to remember what he had done with the handful of similar fragments gathered at the same time. It came to him presently. He had emptied his pocket into the haversack on the morning of the departure from the valley what time Garvin was seeking the strayed burro. He unslung the canvas bag and poured the handful of gravel on the bench. The assayer, trembling now with repressed excitement, examined the snuff-colored quartz, bit by bit, with a guttural ejaculation for each. "_Donnerwetter!_ He gifs me feerst der vorthless stones to maig of dem de assay, und den he vill ask me von leedle qvestion about dis--dis maknificend bonansa! _Ach! mein freund!_ haf you got _viel_ of dis precious qvartz?" "Why, yes; there's a good bit of it, I believe," replied Jeffard, still unawake to the magnitude of the discovery. "Und you can find der blaces again? Dink aboud it now--dink hardt!" Jeffard smiled. "Don't get excited, _mein Herr_. I know the place very well, indeed; I left it only three days since." "_Gut; sehr gut!_ Now go you; go und leef me to _mein_ vork. Come you back in der _morgen_, und I vill tell you dot you are reech, reech! Go, _mein freund_, mit der goot Cherman in your moud--und Gott go mit you."