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Now they knew the real extent of the debt they owed to the friendly little dispenser of ham and eggs. But they also knew now, after the fierce excitement of witnessing the result of the first real washing had subsided, the immensities of the proposition confronting them. As yet neither had uttered a word of doubt or anxiety. But the thought of the potentialities of the situation was looming heavily.

Jim Carver’s blue eyes were turned upon the sunlit bay. He was deeply engrossed, not in the wonders of the tropical scene set out before him, but in a train of teeming thought. His pipe was his only real comfort on this intolerable coast, and he was enjoying it to the uttermost at the moment. Len Stern’s dark eyes were upon the small mountain of raw gold heaped on an outspread flour sack on the sun-baked ground in front of him, which represented the result of their first “clean-up.” Whatever worries lay back of his mind his mercurial temperament refused to be robbed of one moment of the delight which this tangible result of their labours afforded.

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