But Barker was accustomed to this Spartan process, and after a
moment's balancing with closed lids like an unwrapped mummy, he sat
down in the doorway and began to dress. He at first demurred to their
departure except all together--it was so unfraternal; but eventually
he allowed himself to be persuaded out of it and into his clothes. For
Barker had also had HIS visions in the night, one of which was that they
should build a beautiful villa on the site of the old cabin and solemnly
agree to come every year and pass a week in it together. "I thought at
first," he said, sliding along the floor in search of different articles
of his dress, or stopping gravely to catch them as they were thrown to
him by his partners, "that we'd have it at Boomville, as being handier
to get there; but I've concluded we'd better have it here, a little
higher up the hill, where it could be seen over the whole Black Spur
Range. When we weren't here we could use it as a Hut of Refuge for
broken-down or washed-out miners or weary travelers, like those hospices
in the Alps, you know, and have somebody to keep it for us. You see I've
thought even of THAT, and Van Loo is the very man to take charge of it
for us. You see he's got such good manners and speaks two languages.
Lord! if a German or Frenchman came along, poor and distressed, Van Loo
would just chip in his own language. See? You've got to think of all
these details, you see, boys.
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