A Sportsman 39 1 



Bebo had written Captain Slawson that he had a 

 most extensive and valuable copper property in the 

 Sandia Mountains, the proposed examination of which 

 had brought us here. According to Bebo's account, 

 it surpassed any known elsewhere. He had never 

 personally seen it, although he had its complete con- 

 trol through an agent who had discovered it, and 

 whom he had supplied with moderate means to keep 

 it in hand. It could be reached in a few hours' travel 

 from the town, and its existence, for various reasons, 

 had been kept a profound secret, which was now 

 to be divulged to me, a possible purchaser, in a most 

 confidential manner. His man was to arrive from 

 the mountains that afternoon, and the time had come 

 for him to arrive. Sure enough, he came. A sorry- 

 looking mule of stunted growth, mounted by a cavalier 

 of ample form but dilapidated in general appearance, 

 held up at the store door. His unshaved face, blotched 

 with red splashes, and watery eyes, partly hidden 

 by his flapping sombrero, were not attractive. 



He sat over a pair of well-worn saddle-bags, and 

 about his waist was suspended a brace of revolvers. 

 It was Jack Williams, the possessor of a burning 

 secret about to be revealed. 



"Come in, Jack," said Bebo. 



" Yes, you bet I will, and I am half dead for a drink 

 of whisky," answered Jack. 



"Well, come in and get one — and take oflf your 

 belt," said Bebo; remarking to me in an undertone, 

 as he passed by, "I have to do this, for Jack some- 

 times gets a little high when he comes in and I have 

 to put away his pistols." 



This was comforting, and Jack proceeded to the 



