His face was damp with sweat and the hammer slipped in his hands, but he did not miss a stroke.

He had promised the girl his help, and when the hole was sunk he chose the best spot for the next with fastidious care.

He meant to play a straight game, although it would cost him much to let her win.
By and by the miner picked up some of the bits of stone.
"Weight's all right; guess the stuff's carrying heavy metal," he remarked.

"Still, I've seen a lode pinch out.

It may be a pocket and the dirt run poor when you get farther in." "It's possible," Thirlwell agreed in a dull voice.
The miner gave him a sharp glance.