The Waterbury Democrat., 1937-06-24

pokes his head around rock and growls BOOT"
 Stuart grinned. Nina couldn't help smiling back at the handsome bum, she told herself; he always beamed with some kind of enthusiasm.
 
 LNOR 55 years the firm of L. Pot II ter and Sons ih Phoenix has owned the same life-sized bronze statue of a horse, and has kept the poor critter outside in the elements every hour of that time. Old Lem uel Potter paid twice its cost to have the horse Wagoned across the desert and boldted to the top of his first saddle and harness store. IL has out-lasted Lem, Mrs. Lem and four sons. It has hicks from bullets of carousing cowboys; one ear was shot half off in the midnight cele- bration on December 3l, 1899-1900. Fred Potter, last of the sons, has had sentiment and sense enough to let 1t remain on the roof of even the modern Potter store.
 Old timers still gravitate to Pot- ter's as inevitably as they come to town; at some of their yarns Fred has laughed tactfully at least a thousand times. He was a polite audience this morning when the talk was all about mining. He him. self was more than usually interest," ed in the poWWow about Supersti- ton Mountains gold. Indeed, who isn't interested in a murder mys- tery, especially one where hidden treasure is the motivating force? And the papers had been full of 1t lately.
 The front of the store did heavy dude" trade now, catering to tour ists who wanted to go western, in costumes at least. Fred could get fancy prices from them. Back around the L in the store, though, was a different atmosphere. The old coal stove still functioned there in winter. There the atmosphere eternally commingled of the flavor of leather, tobacco, human sweat, and conversation. Fred liked this part of his store better. He liked the humber customers who gath cred there.
 ssCOLTER'S my name" one be-
 A whiskered arrival had just introduced himself. This here's my wife. Them's my sons, Paul and 6ilas. And this here" (Spoken DrOldlv) IS our Carolee."
 Pleased t'meetcha," said Fred Potter, who would have said How do you do?" up front.
 We're from West Texas" MT. Golfer went on. We seen the horse on yore roof, and I says to m'wifc, this here's friendly store."
 Fred Potter beamed. Thank you, sir. You're welcome here. We do try to make friends. Set down. Set down, all of you. No hurry about doin' business here. You lingering on taking up farming out here, Mir. Colter?"
 The old gentleman's expression became serious. He was poorly clad. His family was obviously touched by poverty. In the bearing of both father and sons one read the un- mistakable evidences of an honest but buffeted people. Paul Coltcr held long rife. He could have been l8, or maybe more, and Silas was his somewhat sullen looking twin. In the sister, however, was a facial contradiction-maybe 1t was pride, or determination. Certainly 1t was backed by inherent beauty.
 We ain't farming no more," the old man confided. T hey got map to a rich mine. I bought it often a feller. We went busted farming, four years in a row. done some mining once. can do Ter again. With this here map might make mself richl Who knoWs?"
 His concluding tone seemed to dare Fred to dispute 1t.
 
 YOUR mine--it's in Arizona" \ Fred probed.
 "Th' same. It's in hisSuperSti-