As we were chatting, I became aware of a delicious, pungent odor,
like the perfume of orange blossoms. "Is it possible," said I,
astonished, "that there are orange groves in bloom in this vicinity?"
The old gentlemen said they did not smell anything wrong, but the
clerk jumped to his feet and sniffed the air in the direction of
Prescott. "Why, gentlemen," said he, "of course, you cannot smell any
further than the blossoms on the tips of your noses, but the young
man has a sharp proboscis, he scents the girls. Here comes Dan bound
for the Silver Bell Mine with his blooming show." We heard the
clatter of hoofs and wheels and saw a large coach pass by, crowded
with passengers, mostly ladies. The clerk said that the genial owner
of the Silver Bell Mine, who was also the proprietor of a popular
resort in town, was going out to pay his miners their monthly wage.
"That is it," said one of the merchants, "and to keep the boys from
leaving the mine in order to spend their money at his resort in town,
he takes his variety show out there. He cannot afford to have his
mine shut down just now, as they have struck horn silver, and that is
the kind of tin he needs in his business."
These kind old gentlemen cautioned me to keep away from a
dark-looking, broken mountain, looming to the north.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122