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Ch. 2: Old Digger, Old Fool

Ch. 2: Old Digger, Old Fool Page of 303 Ch. 3: The Giants Text size:minus plus Restore normal size   Mail page  Print this page
74
DIAMOND
"Some luck, maybe," he said, "but in my opinion their day is over. Those fellows at Nooitgedacht go out and sweat in the sun, and haul up boulders, and sort their wash, and what do they come up with? Three or four hundred carats a month, at most, for the batch of them. You know what the Premier Mine produces? A hundred thousand carats a month. I'm against digging on principle. It's wasteful, it's disorganized, and it's use­less. And I say—though this isn't the official attitude, it's only my own—that it's time they gave it up."
"Oh, come now!" I protested. "After all, people have made fortunes out of digging. What about the Jonker?"
"The Jonker?" said the buyer. "Well, since you mention it, I've never gone along with the theory that the Jonker just hap­pened to turn up where it did. It's my belief that it originally came out of a deep mine. The Premier, no doubt." And, as if he had not just pronounced a heresy, he took a deep draught of tea.
Ch. 2: Old Digger, Old Fool Page of 303 Ch. 3: The Giants
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