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Leslie and Whiteman exchanged significant glances, and silently worked the boat further from the land. "Who is that you spoke to?" asked the former, when they were at a safe distance. "Dis yere blasted limb reached down and pulled my wool," replied the negro, with perfect nonchalance. "Where is George Leland?" asked Leslie.

Shortly after this I began to grow crazy, along with the rest of the population, about the mysterious and wonderful "cement mine," and to make preparations to take advantage of any opportunity that might offer to go and help hunt for it. It was somewhere in the neighborhood of Mono Lake that the marvellous Whiteman cement mine was supposed to lie. Every now and then it would be reported that Mr.

Here it was, on the floor, where it had remained undisturbed for nine days: "Don't fail to do the work before the ten days expire. W. has passed through and given me notice. I am to join him at Mono Lake, and we shall go on from there to-night. He says he will find it this time, sure. "W." meant Whiteman, of course. That thrice accursed "cement!" That was the way of it.

Here, indeed, was trouble, and no opportunity for speech offered for a long time, as we sat moodily in the sun. At about this time, Tom Osby drove his freight wagon down the street and outspanned at the corral of Whiteman the Jew, just across the street.

Looking now, he saw a tall, well-formed young whiteman, a gun on his back, and a dog at his heels, walking along the little meadow-path toward the cottage. "This is the lover," he muttered; "curses upon him." From that moment he hated with all the bitterness of his nature the man now striding carelessly up toward the cottage door.

I learned from them that they were a part of a large band which lay encamped at present near the foot of the rocky mountains on the main branch of Maria's river one 1/2 days march from our present encampment; that there was a whiteman with their band; that there was another large band of their nation hunting buffaloe near the broken mountains and were on there way to the mouth of Maria's river where they would probably be in the course of a few days. they also informed us that from hence to the establishment where they trade on the Suskasawan river is only 6 days easy march or such as they usually travel with their women and childred which may be estimated at about 150 ms. that from these traders they obtain arm amunition sperituous liquor blankets &c in exchange for wolves and some beaver skins.

It took forty of 'em to watch me and de rest." Here the negro's words were cut short with a jerk, and he gave vent to a loud groan. "Gorra mighty!" he ejaculated, in fury. "Come ashore, Mr. Whiteman and Mr. Leslie. Come quick, and let dese yer fellers got you. Dey wants yer too." "Are there any of the imps with you?" asked Kent, more for amusement than anything else.

"Who's in distress?" "Oh, Gorra mighty! I's been dyin'," now came from the shore. "Hallo there! what's wantin'?" called Whiteman. "Help, help, 'fore dis Indian gentleman 'fore I dies from de wounds dat dey's given me." "I've heard that voice before," remarked Kent to Leslie, in an undertone. "So have I," replied the latter. "Why, it is George Leland's negro; he wouldn't decoy us into danger.

Andrew Leucander, or Whiteman, as his Latinized name is explained by Leland the antiquary, was an English monk, and third abbot of the monastery of Ramsay, who was much addicted to the study of the liberal sciences, devoting incredible exertions, both by day and night, to their cultivation, in which he profited exceedingly.

"And as to Tom Osby, fellers, I'll bet a plug of tobacco that's him pullin' in at the head of town right now." "Just like I said," exclaimed Doc Tomlinson. "He's good enough railroad for any one, and he's safe! I wonder what did he bring this time." What Tom Osby brought this time, besides sundry merchandise for Whiteman the Jew, was a parrot and a pair of twins.