You are wrong, Mr. Fitzpatrick; this entire hill
outside the Barbour division is Miss Ann Caarter's, and the coal is
on her land. The colonel's portion is back there along the Tench."
CHAPTER XII
_The Englishman's Check_
An hour later I found Fitz flat on the grass under one of the
apple-trees behind the house, completely broken up by the discoveries
of the morning.
After all his work, here was the colonel worse off than ever. Nobody
could tell what a woman would do. Aunt Nancy was better than the average
(Fitz was a bachelor), but then she had peculiar old family notions
about selling land, and ten chances to one she would not sell a foot
of it, and there right in the house sat a man with his pocket full of
blank checks, any one of which was good for a million of pounds
sterling. Even if she did sell it, she would pension the dear old
fellow off on a stipend instead of an establishment. He wanted somebody
to dig a hole and cover Fitzpatrick up. Anybody could see that the
railroad scheme was deader than a last year's pass, the farm hopeless,
and the house fast becoming a ruin.
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