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Updated: May 5, 2025
Watson shouted back over the shaved tail of his substitute for a horse. "I'll bring him back, dead or alive, or my name ain't Watson!" And over the way the stage had stopped, and Fanny Borlan had reached Ten Mile Gulch at last. A little after sunrise, the next morning, Mr. Tom Ruger might have been seen leisurely riding along the bridle-path between the mines and the settlement of Ten Mile Gulch.
I staked everything I had against Foster's pile, and I'm beat, beat, beat!" These were the last words Mr. Bob Watson ever spoke, as many a surviving Ten Miler will tell you, and they buried him in the spot where he died, without any beautiful stone to mark the place. Miss Fanny Borlan found Jack awaiting her at San Francisco. "What made you run away?"
If such trout exist in Borlan, it is hard to explain the presence of the innumerable fry. One would expect the giants of the deep to keep down their population. Not far off is another small lake, Loch Awe, which has invisible advantages over Loch Borlan, yet there the trout are, or were, "fat and fair of flesh," like Tamlane in the ballad.
Watson, and I do hope you'll pardon me when I repeat that I will defend Mr. Borlan with my life!" This remark surprised no one more than Jack Borlan. He had never spoken to Mr. Ruger a dozen times in his life, and he could not account for such disinterestedness. However, there was not much time for conjecture, for Mr. Watson had taken offense.
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