In the backwoods of Ontario, a blacksmith named Fred LaRose was working on the new railroad when his pickaxe struck a rock. It broke off "a piece as big as my hand, with little sharp points all over it." The rock had a shiny vein running through its middle. He showed it to the owner of a nearby hotel.
"Some kind of damn metal," they decided, and sent it away to be tested.
Cyril's professor, W.G. Miller, received the sample, and a lab report confirmed his suspicions. The rock contained silver. Lots of it. The race was on!
It was already October, and a Canadian winter would soon set in, making travel impossible. Professor Miller rushed to the site along with two assistants. One of them was Cyril Knight.
Posted yesterday on Storydello.