Once in a while you’ll meet a feller that you couldn’t help liking, even if he took a shot at you, and that’s how me and Magpie felt about Franklyn Burt. He sure knowed minerals sixteen ways from the jack, but he didn’t act like he knowed a whole lot more than the rest of us old sourdoughs at that. His card said that he was a mining engineer. He just poked around our prospect, putting me and Magpie wise to a lot of new things on timbering and so forth, and what he didn’t find out about our mine wasn’t much. Said he was from Redfield, that he was quite well, thank you, and we made him as welcome as a mess of trout.…
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