I
gave it to him, little thinking I would hear from the man again.
But I did. He called at my apartments about a week later, saying
he had secured work as an expert setter of diamonds, and wanted
to repay me. I did not want to take his money, but the fact that
such a sorry looking specimen of manhood as he had been when I
aided him, was an expert handler of gems interested me. I talked
with the man, and he made a curious statement.
"This man, who gave his name as Enos Folwell, said he knew a place
where diamonds could be made, partly in a scientific manner, and
partly by the forces of nature. I laughed at him, but he told me so
many details that I began to believe him. He said he and some other
friends of his, who were diamond cutters, had a plant in the midst of
the Rocky Mountains, where they had succeeded in making several small,
but very perfect diamonds. They had come to the end of their rope,
though, so to speak, because they could not afford to buy the materials
needed. Folwell said that he and his companions had temporarily
separated, had left the mountain where they made diamonds, and agreed
to meet there later when they had more money with which to purchase
materials. They had all agreed to go out into civilization, and work
for enough funds to enable them to go on with their diamond making.
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