Queen of Sheba No. 1:--Area about 15 acres.
Section 1--600 × 300 feet. Examined by the best obtainable
placer experts and under the most favorable conditions money
could afford. Prospect Shaft No. L:--Through natural, clean sand
and fine river gravel. Depth of pit 10 feet. Every foot showed
gold in paying quantities. A four foot streak, extremely rich,
passes through this section. Red-rock was not reached but the
values increase with depth, as is usually true.
Average workable depth of this section 60 ft.
Average assay .6235 per cubic yard.
600 × 300 × 60----400,000 cu. yds. @ .6235 $249,400
Estimated cost of working 5 cents per cu. yd. 20,000
--------
Estimated Net Profit $229,000
"That's one of the poor claims," he explained carelessly, "we probably
won't bother with it."
"The yardage of 'The Pot of Gold' and claims 'Eureka' 1 and 2 totalled
millions, while the leanest next to 'The Queen of Sheba,' yielded a net
profit of $700,000."
Then the monotony of facts and figures was varied by another
illustration showing a miner in hip-boots and a sou'wester blithely
handling a giant which threw a ten-inch stream into a sand-bank.
"I drew the rough sketch for that and the artist carried out my ideas."
Sprudell wished to convey the impression that along with his many other
gifts he possessed artistic talent, had he only chosen to develop it.
Helen read at random:
Numerous prospect holes, cuts and trenches fully corroborate the
value of the ground. There are rich streaks and spots yielding
25 cts. to 50 cts. to the pan of what area the Giant alone will
tell. Every surface foot yields gold in paying quantities. It is
pay-dirt from the grass-roots. While we confine our estimates to
the actual ground examined, nevertheless we are certain the real
wealth lies on bed-rock.
The home claim with its rustic log cabin provides a delightful
home for those interested in the enterprise, supplying comforts
and luxuries which money cannot purchase in large cities. Game
and fish in greatest abundance infest its door-yard. We have
seen fifty grouse and twenty mountain sheep within three hundred
feet of the doorway. Bear may be had at any time for the going
after.
It must be borne in mind, all of these placers are the ancient
beds of a least two separate periods of a great river,
consequently, bed-rock will undoubtedly reveal fabulous wealth
which cannot be uncovered in an examination. It would be useless
to attempt to exaggerate the possibilities of these properties.
The plain, simple facts are far more potent than unestablished
fiction could possibly be.
All the claims we have described represent virgin ground,
something seldom found, now, anywhere in the U. S. There is not
a wagon track in the whole valley. It has heretofore been too
difficult of access to tempt capital to come in here. We have
changed the whole situation. Our Saw-mill, which we now have in
operation, is the wonder of the place, and is, of course, our
salvation, for without that, of course, we could not construct
flumes to put water upon our placer ground.
We have partially constructed a wagon road to shorten and make
less arduous the difficult trip into this paradise.
Nevertheless, it is a paradise, when once within its charmed
environments. Gold is the commonest product there.
This is quite sufficient.
The confidential details which accompany this prospectus will
make known our financial requirements.
We know we have a great fortune in sight, but, hidden away in
the greater depths are unknown possibilities of fabulous riches,
for this great river is noted for its richness on bed-rock.
Millions have been taken out of its sand with the crudest
devices.
We have demonstrated our good faith and our confidence in the
worth of these properties by a personal expenditure
approximating fifty thousand dollars in cash.
We have taken every legal precaution and necessary physical step
to insure an absolutely safe and profitable investment.
We are now ready, and desire, to finance a close corporation,
with a limited capital, to operate this property on a scale
BEFITTING ITS IMPORTANCE.
Helen closed the pamphlet and passed it back. She knew nothing of mining
and had no reason to doubt its truth or Sprudell's honesty. Not only the
facts but the magnitude of the possibilities as he had outlined them
were bewildering. He might, indeed, become as rich as Croesus and, she
thought, how like a tyrant he would use his power!
"Well?" He looked at her, exultant, gloating. For the moment he had the
appearance of a person whose every wish had been granted. His eyes
blazed with excitement, his face was crimson. Dazzled, intoxicated by
the prospect of his great wealth, he felt himself omnipotent, immune
from the consequences of rude manners and shameless selfishness, safe
from criticism among the very rich. He felt a wild, reckless impulse to
throw the cut-glass rose-vase on the floor--and pay for it.
"Well?" he repeated arrogantly. He felt so sure of her, for what woman
who earned her own living would refuse what he now could offer! He was
impatient for her to say something that would show how much she was
impressed.
And still Helen did not answer. Looking at him as he bared himself in
his transport, the realization came swiftly, unexpectedly that she could
not marry him if to refuse meant the beginning of sure starvation on the
morrow! Not because she was too honorable, too conscientious, to marry
without love in her present circumstances, but because it would be an
actual impossibility for her to marry Sprudell.
It was not a question of honor or conscience, of mental uncongeniality,
temperamental differences, or even the part in his back hair; it was, as
she realized, a case of physical repulsion pure and simple.
From her first acquaintance with him she had shrunk involuntarily from
the touch of his hand, the slightest contact; when he sat beside her in
taxicabs and at the theatre she invariably had been unpleasantly
conscious of his nearness. She was convinced now that her reluctant feet
would have refused to carry her to the altar, and her tongue to answer
according to her bidding.
If she had been less strong in her likes and dislikes, less violent in
her prejudices, she might have forced herself to dwell upon the
advantages over her present position and come to accept the situation
with something like serenity. But she was too strong a character to
adapt herself complacently to a livelong, intimate association with a
person so genuinely, so uncontrollably, physically repugnant to her as
was Sprudell.
Psychologically, it was curious--no doubt there were women in the world
who had, or did, or might, adore Sprudell; but for herself she
understood clearly now that the single kindly feeling she had for him
was the gratitude she felt she owed him.
"I congratulate you," she said finally. "It is a remarkable story--most
romantic! Money is power--there never was anything truer--Listen!" She
raised a finger. "Isn't that your name? Yes; the boy is paging you."
Sprudell ostentatiously opened the telegram which was brought to him,
secretly pleased at seeming to be thus pursued by the requirements of
his large business interests; but his frown of importance and air of a
man with weighty matters to decide was wasted upon Helen, who was
watching a lively party of men making its way to a nearby table reserved
for six.
Sprudell read:
The original locator has beat us to the water-right. Applied by
wire while I was snowed up. Advise making best terms possible
with him. Letter follows.
Dill.
He looked as if some one had struck him in the face.
Helen was still watching the advancing party. She murmured, with a smile
of amusement, as Sprudell laid the telegram down:
"Here, coming in the lead, is our unfailing news supply--Winfield
Harrah. You've heard of him no doubt. Behind him, the big one--that huge
chap with the black eyes, is the mysterious Samson from the West who
whipped the 'Spanish Bull-dog.' 'The Man from the Bitter Roots' I think
they call him."
Subconsciously, Sprudell heard what she was saying and his eyes followed
hers. The start he gave caused her to turn her head quickly. His face
was more than colorless, it was chalky even to the lips.
"Burt!" He exclaimed involuntarily, "Bruce Burt!" He could have bitten
his tongue out the instant after.