“Well, I should like to have you look into it for me,” he said, in a conciliatory manner.
Accordingly she drew out her stone, adjusted her glasses, and commenced by seeing him in a deep dark hole, with something hung up between himself and a pile of gold which he was trying to reach. She then kept on, and described a young girl, as she saw her, about twelve years of age, who was to be of future service to him or his work. “And you will not get through with the partner you have now, either!” she said, decidedly.
“Well I was told that same thing about my last partner,” he muttered, half to himself and half aloud.
“What was his name?” she asked.
“What do you think?” he answered, Yankee fashion.
“I see a large W.,” she said musingly.
“Well that is right; his name was Wheeler,” he replied. “What do you think of him?”
“I don’t know nothing about him,” said the old woman, cautiously; “but I see one very mean thing that he did.”
“You mean to say he is a dishonest man, then?” Mr. Marble said, for the sake of getting along faster.
“No I don’t,” she said fearfully; “he is not dishonest, but he took the advantage.”