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You remember that, boy. A man who
keeps his eyes open and his ears cocked is always ahead of them who don't."
    Tony was through the door when Eagleton called him back. "I forgot. There's an
article in today's paper you might find interesting. Here."
    Tony took the newspaper and tucked it under his arm. "I'll read it tonight. I'm
supposed to go down to the ranch this afternoon about that well you want dug."
    "Fine. I'll see you in the morning, then." Eagleton hesitated, as if he wanted to say
more, but after a moment's pause, he simply shook his head and waved dismissal.
    Tony spent the afternoon walking Eagleton's ranch with the well digger, watching
him use the dowsing rods that seemed so like magic. When he'd marked the site where he'd
dig, they parted with an appointment to meet the following Monday.
    As a result of the time it had taken to find a likely well site, Tony didn't get back
to town until after seven. He stopped off at the Nevada Chop House for supper, because
Mrs. Slossen didn't tolerate latecomers to her table. So it was twilight when he started for
home. He was almost there when he remembered the newspaper. Eagleton wouldn't have
called his attention to an article unless it pertained to business. He'd better read it
tonight.
    Back to the office, then home at last. He removed his necktie and collar, slipped
off his shoes, and relaxed on the bed, pillows piled behind his shoulders.
    The Wood River News Miner came out daily. Tony didn't often read it,
partly from a lack of time, partly from a lack of interest. A chatty, newsy paper, it
mentioned many people whom he'd never heard of. He supposed as he became acquainted
with the locals, he'd find more of interest.
    Much of the news concerned the mines in the Wood River Valley and surrounding
hills. There were District Court notices, a short note that members of the GAR could ride
the train to Denver and back for only $56.70, legal summonses, advertisements for
whiskies and men's furnishings. Beside the haberdashery's ad, he saw one promising to
cure, among other male distresses, lost manhood. He wondered exactly what might be in
the guaranteed restorative. Something vile tasting, he had no doubt. And alcohol--lots of
alcohol.
    Local gossip, a bit of poesy in which yesterday's shower was described as
'washing the face of nature and making the grass smile.' He chuckled, wondering what
smiling grass looked like. As he skimmed the contents of the back page, he wondered if
Eagleton had perhaps given him the wrong paper, Maybe it was yesterday's he'd intended
for Tony to read.
    He went back to the first page. On the left were two columns of short news items.
This time he read every one, finding several interesting, but not anything Eagleton would
concern himself with. The third column contained an account of a News-Miner reporter's visit to Chinatown. No prospect of business there. Then came the results of a
foreclosure suit, an account of a pleasure trip to Bullion, a shooting at Atlanta, several
instances of dueling--
    "Wait a minute!" He went back and read the reporter's account of his evening in
Chinatown. It was written in a patronizing, superior tone and contained contemptuous
comments about the morals and intelligence of Chinese. The writer pictured all Celestials
as opium fiends, although he did admit there might be some small value to Chinese
medicine.
    Tony read it once, quickly, then a second time, slowly and with care. By the time
he was done with his second reading, he was furious.
    Throwing the paper aside, he rolled to his feet and paced the room, five steps in
each direction. So the reporter believed Chinese lacked the ability to change, that the race
had never advanced beyond some near-primitive level. Someone ought to introduce him to
Chinese philosophy, to Chinese art. Why, Chinese were civilized when Europeans were
still all but living in caves.
    He stopped at the open window and drew deep breaths of dusty, hay-scented air.
Someone ought to tell that