Sixteen years ago--it is a long time.
I was a little girl then, only fourteen. I never saw you, I lived
in Washoe. But Uncle Simmons ran across you every now and then,
all during those weeks that you and party were there working
your claim which was like the rest. The camp played out long
and long ago, there wasn't silver enough in it to make a button.
You never saw my husband, but he was there after you left, AND LIVED
IN THAT VERY LEAN-TO, a bachelor then but married to me now.
He often wishes there had been a photographer there in those days,
he would have taken the lean-to. He got hurt in the old Hal Clayton
claim that was abandoned like the others, putting in a blast
and not climbing out quick enough, though he scrambled the best
he could. It landed him clear down on the train and hit a Piute.
For weeks they thought he would not get over it but he did,
and is all right, now. Has been ever since. This is a long
introduction but it is the only way I can make myself known.
The favor I ask I feel assured your generous heart will grant:
Give me some advice about a book I have written. I do not claim
anything for it only it is mostly true and as interesting as most
of the books of the times. I am unknown in the literary world
and you know what that means unless one has some one of influence
(like yourself) to help you by speaking a good word for you.
I would like to place the book on royalty basis plan with any one you
would suggest.
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