"Listen carefully!" he whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear.
"I think there's some sort of plot here."
She nodded ready comprehension, and they settled themselves to hear the
following conversation:
"I saw the assay," replied the stranger's voice to Mizzou's last
statement, "but who's this McPherson? How do I know the assays are all
right?"
"Why, he's that thar professer at th' School of Mines," expostulated
Mizzou.
"Oh, yes!" cried the stranger, as though suddenly enlightened. "If
those are his assays, they're all right. Let's see them again."
There followed a rustling of papers.
"Well, I've looked over your layout," went on the stranger after a
moment, "and pretty thoroughly in the last few days. I know what you've
got here. Now what's your proposition?"
There was a pause.
"I knows you a good while, Slayton----" began Mizzou, but was
interrupted almost immediately by a third voice, that of Arthur. "The
point is this," said the latter sharply, "Davidson here is in a
position to give you possession of this group o' claims, but he ain't
in a position to appear in th' transaction.
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