He made a picture of himself living there a hermit in a shanty by the tunnel, digging away with solitary pick and wheelbarrow, day after day and year after year, until he grew gray and aged, and was known in all that region as the old man of the mountain.

Perhaps some day--he felt it must be so some day--he should strike coal.

But what if he did?
Who would be alive to care for it then?
What would he care for it then?
No, a man wants riches in his youth, when the world is fresh to him.

He wondered why Providence could not have reversed the usual process, and let the majority of men begin with wealth and gradually spend it, and die poor when they no longer needed it.
Harry went back to the city.

It was evident that his services were no longer needed.