I thought I could, and found that he had a few ready against such a return to my normal. As I ate, he meditated. I could see that, though he spoke gaily enough, there was something on his mind. He looked at me several times, and then at last: "Do you think you could stand bad news?" he asked. I looked up with inquiry. "It’s a fizzle, this!" he snapped; and then he told me that sure enough the three original owners of the mine had "struck something." But the ore, according to Apache Kid’s opinion of the samples lying in the cabin, was of such a quality that it would not repay anyone to work the place. "O," he said, "if there was a smelter at the foot of the mountains, I don’t say it would n’t repay to rig up a bucket-tramway and plant; it’s not so very poor looking stuff; but to make a waggon road, or even a pack-road, from here, say, to Kettle River Gap or even to Baker City and use the ordinary road there for the further transportation—no, it would n’t pay. We might hold this claim all our lives and the country might never open up this way while we lived; and what would we be the better for it all?" It mattered little to me. My soul was sick of it all. "Of course, that’s the black side," he broke off. "Again, this valley might be opened up—other prospects put on the market—and down there in that valley you ’d live to see the smoke of a smelter smelting the ore of this little place of yours." He paused again. "But I doubt it," he said. "So it’s a fizzle?" I said half-heartedly. "Yes," said he. "That is, practically a fizzle. As the country is at present it does n’t seem to me very hopeful. But of course I am one of those who believe in big profits and quick returns. It is perhaps scarcely necessary for me to tell you of that characteristic of mine, however, unless the excitement of your recent experience has caused you to forget the half-told story I was spinning to you when friend Canlan interrupted us. Man, how it does rain! And this," said he, looking up, "is only a preamble. If I ’m not in error, we ’re going to have a fierce night to-night. The storm-king is marshalling his forces. He does n’t often do it here, but when he does he does it with a vengeance. I think our best plan is to get the holes in this roof tinkered. I see the gaps round about have been blocked up recently. Was it you did that?" I told him that the tinkering was Canlan’s doing, to prevent an inroad of the rats, should we have slept in the place. "Thanks be unto Canlan," said he. "We ’ll start on the roof." At this task I assisted, standing on the wabbly stool and filling up the crevices. It was when thus employed that in a cranny near the eaves I saw a piece of what looked like gunnysacking protruding and catching hold of it it came away in my hand and there was a great scattering to the floor—of yellow raindrops, you might have thought; but they fell with a dull sound. I looked upon them lying there.