He
had a map with him, and I thought he might be a friend of Mr. Mark's
and asked him, but he didn't answer; never rested to light a pipe,
even, so I never found out about him. I reckon he was just fooling
around and I hadn't oughter hoped on such a light ration."
"When was it that the man came and prospected?" asked the Senator with
a quick gleam coming into his ugly little eyes and the smile veil took
on another layer of density, while his hand trembled slightly as he
lighted his cigar.
"Oh, about a week ago," answered Mr. Crabtree. "But I ain't got no
hopes now for Mr. Tucker and the folks from him. We'll all just have
to find some way to help them out when the bad time comes."
"The way will be provided, friend Crabtree," answered the Senator in
an oily tone of voice, but which held nevertheless a decided note of
excitement. "Do you know where I can find Mr. Alloway? I think I will
go have a business talk with him now." And in a few minutes the
Senator was striding as rapidly as his ponderosity would allow up
Providence Road, leaving the garrulous little storekeeper totally
unconscious of the fuse he had lighted for the firing of the mine so
long dreaded by his friends.
"Well now, Crabbie, don't bust out and cry into them dried apples jest
to swell the price, fer Mis' Rucker will ketch you sure when she comes
to buy 'em for to-morrow's turnovers," came in the long drawl of the
poet as he dawdled into the door and flung the rusty mail-sack down on
to the counter in front of Mr.
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