The three girls were spell-bound at her
vivid descriptions and Anne sighed with desire to put it all down on
paper for future publication.
"Montresor's Mine is in this mountain that I want to show you to-day.
He was a dear old man who lived a solitary life in a cabin near Buffalo
Park. Patsy, his dog, was his only companion. But he died and left me
his mine--that we never found again," sighed Polly.
"Oh, Polly! Tell us the story!" chorused the girls.
Polly laughed: "It isn't a story, 'cause there never was a climax as
real stories have to have, you know. But I'll tell you how I met Mr.
Montresor. I was out with Noddy, one day, and we traveled farther than
usual.
"In leaving a bad trail to take a good one, I met the gray-haired man
slowly riding up. An Irish terrier ran back of his horse, sniffing,
sniffing, and whining as if distracted. I was so surprised at the dog's
actions that I stopped to ask the man what ailed him.
"'Ah, my child, Patsy is seeking for my lost mine!'
"'Your lost mine!' I gasped, for I had never heard of him or his mine,
although folks said there was a rich vein of gold somewhere in the
mountain.[Footnote: This is a true incident.] "'Yes, child, I am the
unfortunate Montresor. Haven't you heard of my great loss?'
"I thought the poor man was foolish, so I humored him by saying, 'No,
sir, I never did, Won't you tell me about it?'
"Then he told me the story.
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