"Will you own the breaker, an' boss us boys?" came a query from another quarter.
Before Ralph could reply to this startling and embarrassing question, some one else asked:—
"How'd you find out who you was, anyway?"
"Why, my lawyer told me," was the reply.
"How'd he find out?"
"Well, a man told him."
"What man?"
"Now, look here, fellows!" said Ralph, "I ain't goin' to tell you everything. It'd predujuice my case too much. I can't do it, I got no right to."
Then a doubting Thomas arose.
"I ain't got nothin' agin him," he began, referring to Ralph, "he's a good enough feller—for a slate-picker, for w'at I know; but that's all he is; he ain't a Burnham, no more'n I be, if he was he wouldn't be a-workin' here in the dirt; it ain't reason'ble."