Explore "Kate Meredith, Financier" by Cutcliffe Hyne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Tin Hill, when they got to it, carried riches that lay in full view of the sky. The mountain of country rock which held the veins reared up out of the dark green bush, red-streaked and barren, and the last day's march towards it lay through a heavy growth of rubber vines. Even the Krooboy could not help noticing these.
"O Carter," he said, "rubber lib for here. Dem Missy Kate she say rubber-palaver beat oil-palaver, an' kernels, an' gum, all-e-same cocked hat."