He peered anxiously into my face as he made the offer. He was plainly trying to get a hint from my expression, but he didn’t, of course. I knew nothing about mining stock.
‘I don’t want it.”.
“Twenty-five cents a share, then. I want to chase the wheel.”
“You’re on a wrong lead, my friend.”
Just then a man bumped against me as if by accident and promptly apologized. It was the stage-driver.
The owner of the stock scowled and backed into the crowd in the office.
“I was trying to jolt a little hoss sense into you,” explained the driver. “Why didn’t you buy that stock? I passed the hunch to you to-day.”
“I haven’t any money for wildcatting in gold-mines,” I said.
The man came close to me and spoke low.
“Don’t you remember what I said?”