And so it was; though nearly two years elapsed before a
merciful Providence released the old man from this world where thieves
break through and steal the fruits of our labors.
The Woolsey boys, young men now, with the strength of the hills in bone
and muscle, were the old man's chief reliance. They could see that he
was failing, and felt sincerely sorry. They noted with what grim
determination he stuck to his work. The tenacity inherited from a
hundred generations of strong men, farmers, sea-kings, warriors, nerved
his old arms and kept strong the will within him.
One day about the first of August, in the early afternoon when the sun
is hottest, they found the old man within doors, washing dishes.
"Sit down, Mr. Palmer," said John, the older of the boys, "and we will
do the dishes for you."
"Well, boys, go ahead. I know what famous pot-wrastlers ye be. I can't
compete with you." And he gladly sat down, to examine a legal document
the boys had brought him. For one Dupre, who had a rough farm at the
bottom of the canon and sold the old man vegetables, had sued him for
damages, because the dirt washed down from Palmer's diggings had covered
up a few square rods of grass land.
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