"The man who looks for that ore will want my help," Drummond rejoined. "Well, it's my business to speculate in mines, and I'm generally willing to pay for a useful tip. But it's got to be useful. I don't like to be stung, and the woods are full of dead-beat prospectors ready to put you wise about rich pay-dirt for a dollar or two." "My tip's all right," Drummond declared in a defiant tone. "I'll show you! When the old man was at Longue Sault he had a clerk called Strange, and sent him off somewhere one day with a sledge and dogs. Strange came back with a bagful of mineral specimens, and said he'd struck it rich, but the old man knew nothing about mining and didn't want any prospectors mussing up things round there. By and by Strange left the factory, and the old man pulled out and brought me South. Located at Owen Sound, and told me about Strange's specimens one day when he was very sick. Said he'd reckoned the fellow was a crank, but he'd kept two or three specimens and a mining man told him they carried good silver." "Did Strange tell your father where he found the specimens?" Stormont asked carelessly. Drummond grinned. "Since the old man sent him, I guess he knew where he went. But I've got to know what my tip is worth before I tell you." "Certainly," said Stormont. "Suppose we take a drink?" He filled a glass and gave it Drummond, but was silent for some minutes afterwards. The young man was not as drunk as he thought, and had obviously some caution left. The heady liquor, however, might make a difference. "Well," he resumed, when Drummond put down his glass, "you're ambitious and enterprising. I expect you'd like to own a share in a paying mine?" "You bet I would; I'm surely going to!" "Then you had better let me help. It will cost you something to locate the vein, and you won't find people ready to believe your tale and put up the money," Stormont replied. He saw by Drummond's look that he had tried to sell his secret; but the lad answered: "Cut it out! What's your offer?" "Fifty dollars now, and five hundred when we find the lode, if it's worth working. Then a share that will depend on the cost of development and the profit." "Shucks!" said Drummond. "I want five hundred dollars before I start." "Then you had better try somebody else," said Stormont, smiling. "It's possible that all you can tell me isn't worth five dollars." "I'll show you! Gimme a hundred now and 'nother drink." "Take fifty, or I quit," said Stormont, who passed him the bottle. Drummond drained his glass. "You're mean, but I gotter make a start. Where's the bills?" Stormont gave him some paper money, and then turned to the clerk. "See about mailing the letters, Watson." The clerk went out, knowing why he had been sent. His employer trusted him where he was forced, but did not want him to hear what Drummond had to say.