Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-12-14


tracks running down to it? That's part of the
Mesabi Range, where up to the present time
they have mined two hundred and fifty mil
lion tons of the same thing. This bit of ore in
my pin came from the first load removed"
We sauntered over to the open pit, from
which trainload after trainload of the ore
was being removed. My attention was at
tracted by an old man of probably sixty
five, halfway down the pit. His clothes were
shabby, his dirty white hair hung almost to
his shoulders, and he continually turned his
head about as if to see that he was not pur
sued by the hundreds of workers at the bot
tom. Occasionally one would look up and
laugh at the old man; but aside from that
they paid no attention to him. He filled all
his pockets with the earth and ore and then
scrambledto the top and went hurrying away.
"The opening of the mine must have been
joyful OCCASION | remarked, revertlng to
our conversation.
at was the saddest day of my life, slowly
said my companion Il might have owned
this identical mine. As it is, all have is this
stickpin. | wear it as perpetual memento
that one must grasp the opportunities Fate
presents. Don't believe in Fate, eh?" he
asked as he saw fit over my face the faint
smile could not suppress.
Just then | saw the old man come back,
his pockets again.
"Listenl" said the shoe salesman. at was
twenty years ago, and this was just forest
and prairie. Cutting timber was then the
chief occupation. After the trees were cut
only years of perseverance and hundreds OF
dollars worth of dynamite could blast out
the stumps and make the land tillable. 1t
had been hard winter, and money was
short. My regular customer here had run
his stock down to almost nothing. | could
make some money this summer if | only had
the shoes to sell, he said; but | haven't the
purchase price Then he told me he had
farm just at the edge of town to which he
would give me deed if would let him have
out to look at the farm. 1t was broad
stretch of stump land. was angry that he
made me walk out there, and bluntly told
him that wouldn't give him pair of shoes
for it, to say nothing of two hundred dollars
worth. That farm was just over this great
hole, and that fall the shoe merchant sold
it for ten thousand dollars
1t had begun to grow dark. The work in
the mine had ended for the day, and the
workers were hurriedly departing. The old
man down the side of the pit still dug greedi
" into the earth till his pockets were filled,
and then scrambled toward the top. We
tuillCQ Oul lOOlSICpS DtSh COWdlo IiIC slileiSC
inn. Just as the old man went to cross in
front of us he looked up and caught sight of
my friends face. He stopped short and
burst into maniacal laugh that sent
shiver of fear down my spine. Instinctively
| clutched my companions arm. His face
turned white; but he said nothing. Then
the old man hurried on, laughing and num-
bling to himself.
what frightful being!' | exclaimed.
@He's mad, but harmless the traveller
said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"How miserable! Who can he be?'
Hes the old shoe merchant who tried
to sell me the land
@But you said he received ten thousand
dollars for it
"True, assured my friend. @He did from
man with tip, who the very next day sold
it for thirty thousand"
@He should have been satisfied. He had
offered it for two hundred
@Yes; but what he lost by selling it was
a tragedy that threw a shadow over his
blessing in my refusal to buy, and clouded
his mind
@But his appearance!' l urged. @He's
ragged and dirty. What of the ten thou