At the same moment a bright half-dollar
absolutely appeared to glitter in the herbage at the point of his
finger. It was a trick that had always brought great pleasure and profit
to his young friends, and some loss and discomfiture of wager to his
older ones.
The boy picked up the coin: "There's a dip and a level crossing about a
mile over yer,"--he pointed,--"but it's through the woods, and they're
that high with thick bresh."
"With what?"
"Bresh," repeated the boy; "THAT,"--pointing to a few fronds of bracken
growing in the shadow of the sycamore.
"Oh! underbrush?"
"Yes; I said 'bresh,'" returned the boy, doggedly. "YOU might get
through, ef you war spry, but not your hoss. Where do you want to go,
anyway?"
"Do you know, George," said Mr. Hamlin, lazily throwing his right
leg over the horn of his saddle for greater ease and deliberation in
replying, "it's very odd, but that's just what I'D like to know. Now,
what would YOU, in your broad statesmanlike views of things generally,
advise?"
Quite convinced of the stranger's mental unsoundness, the boy glanced
again at his half-dollar, as if to make sure of its integrity, pocketed
it doubtfully, and turned away.
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