My officious friend lifted the nugget from the bucket and laid it before me, and for a few minutes I gloated over and passed my hand over its unequal surface, and weighed it in my imagination until I was roused from my reverie by those in the shaft.

“Send down the bucket, so that we can get up,” shouted Fred; “we don’t want to stop here all night!”

I hurried to relieve my friend, and by the time that he was safe out of the shaft, and the bucket had re-descended for Mike, I was comparatively calm.

Fred and myself shook hands over our prize, and then lifted it, and sought to form some idea of its weight, in which we were aided by the official of the law.

“It will weigh forty pounds,” cried Fred, after a moment’s handling.

“More than that, sirs,” answered the policeman, with a dogmatical air that was charming to us, because every additional ounce made us richer.

“I’ve seen a few nuggets since I’ve been stationed here, and I had oughter know about such things,” he continued, turning our prize over and over, and scrutinizing it with the air of a connoisseur.  “Do you see, there’s not an ounce of quartz stuck to the whole piece, and gold is awful heavy when it comes in the lump style.”

We assented to his remarks without a word of opposition.  We could have listened to him for hours, it seemed so good to have him extol, instead of depreciate, the nugget.

“How much, then, do you think that it will weigh?” I demanded.

“Well,” replied the officer, after a moment’s pause, and another lifting operation, “I should say about fifty pounds, if my opinion was asked.

“If my advice was asked,” the officer continued, in a patronizing manner, “I should say, take that nugget to the government reception office without delay, and after it is weighed, get a certificate of deposit.  That is my advice, but my opinion may not be worth much, one way or the other.”

We agreed that his advice was good, and that it would be wisdom on our part to accept of it without delay, for it was rather dangerous having so much gold in a store, when the town was swarming with thieves.

There was one person, however, who did not seem to like the proposition, and that was Mike.  He had a faint suspicion that the project was intended to defraud him of his rightful claim to one quarter of the nugget, and his face showed the feelings of his heart, while we were talking of the matter.

“Is it moving ye intend to do?” he demanded, eyeing the gold as though it had been guilty of a treacherous act.

“We are going to remove it to the government office for safety,” I replied.

“For safety?” repeated Mike.  “Where could it be more safe than under me eye, or under me head while I slept.  Ough! don’t bother, but let me carry it to the store, where we can cut it up, and I can get me quarter.”

“You wouldn’t spoil such a nugget as that by cutting it up, would you?” cried the policeman; “it is the finest specimen of gold that I ever saw, and should be preserved.”