"
"I don't see what all that has got to do with that wandering tramp,"
said the colonel, who was by no means pleased with this history of his
property.
"I'll tell ye. A few days after Raintree took it over, he was lookin'
round the garden, which old Sobriente had always kept shut up agin
strangers, and he finds a lot of dried-up 'slumgullion'* scattered all
about the borders and beds, just as if the old man had been using it for
fertilizing. Well, Raintree ain't no fool; he allowed the old man wasn't
one, either; and he knew that slumgullion wasn't worth no more than mud
for any good it would do the garden. So he put this yer together with
Sobriente's good luck, and allowed to himself that the old coyote had
been secretly gold-washin' all the while he seemed to be standin' off
agin it! But where was the mine? Whar did he get the gold? That's what
got Raintree. He hunted all over the garden, prospected every part of
it,--ye kin see the holes yet,--but he never even got the color!"
* That is, a viscid cement-like refuse of gold-washing.
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