soon after I came. They say a gentleman who was staying at Buxton for his health was the first to suspect the presence of coal under that Mortover property: geologist, or something scientific, of that sort, he was. Then a Mr. Levigne came on the scene—he's stopped now and then at the 'Ram,' where you are, but sometimes he's stopped at Mortover Grange. Then boring operations began; they kept whatever news there was very quiet for a time, but it began to leak out that the results were highly gratifying. And then, of course, this company was started, and the talk here is that it's likely to do extra well—the local people are going in for shares, anyway."
"Do you know anything about this present Mortover?" enquired Wedgwood.
"Not much," replied the superintendent.
"Lumpish, taciturn sort of chap, from what little I've seen of him. I see they've put him on the board of directors, but that must be because of his name—he's no head for business, scarcely educated, I should say—he's just grown up there as a colt might. Run loose!"
"And that housekeeper of his—Mrs. Clagne?"
The superintendent made a wry face.
"Queer woman, that!" he said. "I have had a bit to do with her. She's—well, under certain
