One afternoon last fortnight a battered flivver joggled and clattered over a desert road leading into Tonopah, Nev. Two dusty boys of 19 sat on the seat. They talked now and then but not much. When they reached Tonopah they took some heavy, dirty bags out of their car and locked them up. That evening they walked around the town, which is one big mining camp, showing chunks of glittering rock to the oldtimers. The chunks glittered so brightly and looked so rich that the oldtimers said: "Hell, that ain't gold!" The boys...
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