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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Colonel Carter of Cartersville"


Then they both disappeared hurriedly over the hill.
When they returned, half an hour later, the perspiration was rolling
from the agent, and Fitz's eyes were blazing. Both were loaded down
with bundles of broken bits of rock, tied up in their several
handkerchiefs, large enough to start a geological collection in a
country museum.
"What is it, Fitz--diamonds?" I said, laughing.
"Yes; black ones at that." He was almost breathless. "Solid bed of
bituminous! Clear down to China! Don't breathe a word yet, for your
life!"
The agent was calmer. The coal-bed, he said, seemed to be of more than
ordinary richness, and as far as he could judge lay in a vein of
generous width. He was ready for the survey, and would like the boundary
points located at once.
The next instant Chad's head peered through the tangled underbrush.
He carried the roll of maps, the judge, who followed, contenting himself
with a package tied with red tape.
The old darky's face was one broad grin from ear to ear.
The judge unrolled a map and placed it on a flat rock with a stone at
each corner.


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