never return to San Francisco. I shall go, perhaps to Siam, to Burmah, or an island I know in the South Seas where gold can build for me, with my brains as architect, a new principality. I came to Metzal for this gold."
Sheridan smoked on quietly, listening to every word. He did not think that Quong, or Hi Luen, used many idle ones. Nor was he disposed to consider even the connection of Metzal with gold a chimera. Quong might be mysterious, but he was not apt, in Sheridan's opinion, to be foolish. His statement was matter of fact, it carried conviction. And Sheridan resolved to let Quong see that he too could wait.
"You are identified with this gold, in more ways than one," went on Quong. "For one thing, I have discovered its whereabouts through you. For another, I do not believe it possible for me to secure it without your aid. Will you tell me about your project?"
Sheridan fancied that Quong was watching to see if he had made his point in impressing the other with the probability of his talk of gold. He was inclined to concede it. He liked the Chinaman's methods. To a certain extent he would copy them. The word gold in the mouths of most men is pronounced with an unction, is rolled upon the tongue, accompanied by a glitter of the eyes, an excitement more or less subdued. Quong showed nothing of this. Sheridan curbed his own curiosity. He rose and took some rolls of paper from his desk.
"As an engineer and a surveyor," he said, "I am
