If he could not learn whence they came, it would be impossible to trace his history any farther, and a feeling of depression and discouragement began to settle upon him.
It seemed as if those two lovers had hidden themselves there, cut themselves adrift from all previous associations, and then lived simply for and in each other.
“Did Captain Dale’s mine here pay him well?” he asked.
“No, sir, it did not; and that is something that always seemed strange to me,” Jack said, reflectively. “He couldn’t much more’n paid expenses here, but he never seemed to care, and I’ve always had a notion that he had an interest in other mines.”
“What other mines?” Geoffrey inquired, eagerly.
“I couldn’t say, sir; he was very close, and never talked business afore his help.”
“What made you think he had other claims?”
“Well, after the first month or two he used to be away considerable—not long at a time; but he went often, and was always so chipper when he came back, I reasoned ’twas only good luck could make him so.”
“What arrangements did he make with you when he left me in your wife’s care?”
“There wa’n’t any bargain,” Jack said. “Margery was that fond of ye she’d been willin’ to kep’ ye for nothin’ rather than let ye go; but the cap was always generous—he gave her two hundred dollars to start with, besides a handsome present on her own account, for what she did for his wife while she lay dyin’. Then, for the first two years he came once in six months to see ye, and always left a good round sum for ye—there wa’n’t nothin’ mean about Captain Dale—and when he didn’t come he sent it.”