The shift that went on duty at the end of Day 86 began like any other shift. The vein had been narrowing lately—pinching out. They tried not to be hopeful, but shift ends, when they had not found the pocket yet, were always a bitter disappointment.
Dunneldeen, recovered from the cave-in, was operating a chattering spade bit, sweat streaming off him in the closed, hot confines of the drift. He had a sudden illusion that a drop of sweat had turned color as it dropped into his eye. He switched off the spade bit to clear his vision. He looked again in front of him through the swirling smoke and white dust. The illusion was still there.
But it wasn’t an illusion!
A single round spot of glowing yellow marked the shining white vein.
He put the spade bit against it and turned it on. The chattering edge bit further. He shut it off and walked closer to the vein.
He stood stock-still and then let out a blasting whistle to stop the shift.
He pointed. And then bedlam broke loose!
It was gold!
goldThey had finally hit the second pocket.
The shift abruptly left off shouting and every bit and drill they had down there began to cut into the vein.
The wire gold began to blossom against the white.
An excited call went to the duty watch in town, and in a handful of minutes they had the third shift helping them.
The town went wild!
Every Scot and even two of the old widows helped form a human bucket line out of the mine; weighing, sacking, and loading bag after bag of mixed wire gold and quartz. To the devil with the odd bits of rock. The gold was like twisted springs and small cages of gleaming yellow.
Before sunset on Day 88 they had the whole pocket out.
Sixteen hundred forty-seven pounds, it weighed out, subtracting the rock.
Adding to that the 306 pounds they already had, it made one 1,953 pounds.
It was short of a ton but it would have to do.
The project was on its way!
They began to oil their assault rifles.
The parson prayed long and earnestly for their success. There were no parallels for odds such as these.