The Almighty had not only
stored riches immeasurable in the hills behind him--He had driven
this passage Himself to help puny man to reach them, and yet the
wretched road was going toward them like a snail. On the fifth
night, thereafter he was back there at the tunnel again from New
York--with a grim mouth and a happy eye. He had brought success
with him this time and there was no sleep for him that night. He
had been delayed by a wreck, it was two o'clock in the morning,
and not a horse was available; so he started those twenty miles
afoot, and day was breaking when he looked down on the little
valley shrouded in mist and just wakening from sleep.
Things had been moving while he was away, as he quickly learned.
The English were buying lands right and left at the gap sixty
miles southwest. Two companies had purchased most of the town-site
where he was--HIS town-site--and were going to pool their holdings
and form an improvement company. But a good deal was left, and
straightway Hale got a map from his office and with it in his hand
walked down the curve of the river and over Poplar Hill and
beyond.
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