"Personally I
haven't any strong feeling about what happens to my carcass after I have
left it."
"Have you any idea who or what this man was?" Fred asked.
"I found this in his pocket," responded Zeke, displaying the little book
he had taken from the coat.
"What is it? What is it?" inquired Fred eagerly.
"It looks to me like it was a diary. Some of it is missing and some is
faded, but it looks to me on the whole as if the man was keeping an
account every day of what he was doing and where he went."
"Can't you find his name in there somewhere?" inquired John.
"I haven't yet. I have a suspicion that these bones belong to old Simon
Moultrie. He was an odd stick and I guess was more than half crazy. He was
prospecting most of his life, leastwise as soon as he came out to these
regions. The funny part of it all was that he wouldn't go with anybody and
wouldn't let anybody go with him. Once or twice he thought he had struck
it rich, but I never heard that anything panned out."
"What makes you think the dead man was Simon Moultrie?"
"Mostly because he hasn't been heard from of late. It must be seven or
eight months since he has shown up.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25