I gave it to him, and he looked at it closely through a microscope. "How deep have you gone?"
"Not more than six inches."
"That so? Much of this size?"
"Train loads, I should think."
"Ah, hah. How much land does it cover?"
"Don't know exactly. Haven't investigated."
And this question set me to thinking. The mine was well on my land, but it might spread out beyond my lines. It was important that I should buy several acres surrounding the stretch of moss, and I decided to do this immediately upon my return home.
"Let's see," said the capitalist. "This is Friday. Mr. Clarm is out of town and will not be back until Monday—has a summer home in St. Jo, Mich., and is over there. It's just across the lake. Suppose we go over there to-morrow morning. Boat leaves at nine. Be a pleasant trip. All right."
He resumed his work as if my acceptance of his proposition was a foreshadowed necessity. "How did you happen to find it?" he asked, without looking up from his work.
"I was digging for angle worms."