“That is what they all say; but they don’t tell us precisely why we shan’t.”
“Ah,” said the kindly one, shaking his head in deprecation. “Human nature is the same everywhere. Tait could have told you, or Tryon, or Walters; all of them who have lived here long enough. But you had money and were willing to spend it. It would have been killing the golden-egged goose to have driven you away.”
Tregarvon grinned. “Thank you for trying to break it gently to me, Mr. Thaxter; but I am braced for it now. Hurl it in.”
“They could have told you that this test-boring experiment of yours has been tried before, all over the mountain top. I presume I could show you a dozen holes, if they are not all filled up with wash and hidden under the leaves.”
Tregarvon was thinking hard.
“Does Captain Duncan know this?” he asked.
“I should suppose so; he ought to know it. The testing was done by the New Ocoee Coal Company, and it may have timed itself during the summer that Duncan spent in the West. Come to think, I believe it did. You advised with him, of course; surely he didn’t encourage you to spend money on the property, did he?”
“No; I am obliged to confess that he did not. On the contrary, he advised me not to.”
The little man’s smile became benignantly tolerant. “You young men are like Mr. Kipling’s puppy at times; you will chew soap, knowing perfectly well that it is soap.”
Tregarvon’s answering laugh admitted the justness of the charge.