The latter happening to be crossing the hall at the time, heard Hamar
and asked what he wanted.
Hamar at once informed him he was a dowser, and that, chancing to pass
by the garden on his way to his hotel, he had divined the presence of
water.
"I only wish there were," the gentleman exclaimed, "but I fear you are
mistaken. I have attempted several times to sink a well but never with
the slightest degree of success. I have had all the ground carefully
prospected by Figgins of Sacramento Street--he has a very big
reputation--and he assures me there isn't a drop of water anywhere
near here within two hundred feet of the surface."
"I know better," Hamar said. "Will you get your gardener--who by the
way was very rude to me just now when I spoke to him--to dig where I
tell him. I have absolute confidence in my power of divination."
The owner of the property, whom I will call Mr. B. assented, and
several gardeners, including the one who had so insulted Hamar, were
soon digging vigorously. At the depth of fifteen feet, water was
found, and, indeed, so fast did it begin to come in that within a few
minutes it had risen a foot. The onlookers were jubilant.
"I shall send an account of it to the local papers," Mr. B. remarked.
"Your fame will be spread everywhere. You have increased the value of
my property a thousandfold, I cannot tell you how grateful I am"--and
he, then and there, invited Hamar to luncheon.
Pages:
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109