“And I was right in their midst,” said he,
“For I followed Bayley in ’Ninety-three.”
Then he led the way, and he led me far
With the changing trend of each dip and bar,
And he pointed out with a palsied hand
[96] ]All the work he’d done, all the plans he’d planned;
“For there’s gold,” he yelled, “that would pave a street,
At the spot where the slate and granite meet.”
I chanced that track on my way once more,
And I sought my friend of a year before;