After an hour spent in the examination, Mr. Compton came to business.

“Is the mine for sale?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“What is your price?”

“Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

“Is that your lowest price?”

“It is.”

Jack Holden wasted no words in praising the mine, and this produced a favorable impression on the capitalist with whom he was dealing.

“I’ll take it,” he answered.

“Then it’s a bargain.”

Herbert found it difficult to realize that these few words had made him a rich boy.  He remained silent, but in his heart he was deeply thankful, not so much for himself, as because he knew that he was now able to rejoice his mother’s heart, and relieve her from all pecuniary cares or anxieties.

“You’ve made a good bargain, sir, if I do say it,” said Jack Holden.  “For my own part, I wasn’t so particular about selling the mine, but my young partner here is differently placed, and the money will come handy to him.”

“You are rather young for a mine owner,” said Mr. Compton, regarding Herbert with some curiosity.

“Yes, sir; I believe I am the youngest mine owner here.”

“Are you a resident of this State?”

“Only temporarily, sir.  I came here with a friend whose lungs are weak.”

“You expect to return to the East soon?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When you do, come to see me.  I am a commission merchant in Boston.  If it is your intention to follow a business life, I may be able to find you a place.”

“Thank you, sir; I should like nothing better.”

“To-morrow,” said Mr. Compton, “I will come here and complete the purchase.”

“Jack,” said Herbert, when the new purchaser of the mine had left them, “there is no work for us here.  Come with me, and let us together tell Mr. Melville the good news.”

“A good thought, my lad!”

So the two mounted their horses, and left Deer Creek behind them.  They little suspected how sorely they were needed.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

To the rescue.

Herbert and his companion drew near the forest cabin, which had been the home of the former, without a suspicion that George Melville was in such dire peril.  The boy was, indeed, thinking of him, but it was rather of the satisfaction his employer would feel at his good fortune.

“Somehow I feel in a great hurry to get there, Jack,” said Herbert.  “I shall enjoy telling Mr. Melville of my good luck.”

“He’s a fine chap, that Melville,” said Jack Holden, meaning no disrespect by this unceremonious fashion of speech.

“That he is!  He’s the best friend I ever had, Jack,” returned Herbert, warmly.

“It’s a pity he’s ailing.”

“Oh, he’s much stronger than he was when he came out here.  All the unfavorable symptoms have disappeared.”