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CHAPTER X.
THE TREASURE-HILL
T
OM said it happened like this. A dervish was stumping it along through the Desert, on foot, one blazing hot day, and he had come a thousand miles and was pretty poor, and hungry, and ornery and tired, and along about where we are now he run across a camel-driver with a hundred camels, and asked him for some a'ms. But the camel-driver he asked to be excused. The dervish said:
" Don't you own these camels?"
" Yes, they're mine."
"Are you in debt?"
"Who — me? No."
" Well, a man that owns a hundred camels and ain't in debt is rich — and not only rich, but very rich. Ain't it so?"
The camel-driver owned up that it was so. Then the dervish says:
" God has made you rich, and He has made me poor. He has His reasons, and they are wise, blessed be His name. But He has willed that His rich shall help His poor, and you have turned away from me,
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