I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the barroom stove of the little old dilapidated tavern in
the ancient mining camp of Boomerang, and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an
expression of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance. He roused up and gave
me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had commissioned me to make some inquiries about a
cherished companion of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smily—Rev. Leonidas W. Smily—a young
minister of the gospel, who he had heard was at one time a resident of this village of Boomerang. I added
that if Mr. Wheeler could tell me anything about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smily, I would feel under many
obligations to him.