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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch, by Henry
+Wallace Phillips, Illustrated by F. Graham Cootes
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch
+
+
+Author: Henry Wallace Phillips
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2008  [eBook #25809]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 25809-h.htm or 25809-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/0/25809/25809-h/25809-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/0/25809/25809-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+by
+
+HENRY WALLACE PHILLIPS
+
+Author of Red Saunders
+Plain Mary Smith
+etc.
+
+With Illustrations by F. Graham Cootes
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright 1908
+The Bobbs-Merrill Company
+October
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+
+The gulch ran in a trough of beauty to the foot of Jones's Hill, which
+rose in a sweeping curve into the clouds.
+
+Wild flowers, trees in profuse leaf, and mats of vines covered the
+scarred earth, and the sky was as limpid as spring water; the air carried
+a weight of heart-stirring odors, yet Jim Felton, sitting on the
+door-step of his cabin in the brilliant sunshine, was not a happy man.
+
+He looked at the hollow of the gulch and cursed it manfully and bitterly.
+The gold should be there--Jim had figured it all out. The old wash cut at
+right angles to the creek, and at the turn was where its freight of
+yellow metal should have been deposited, but when you got down to the
+bed-rock, the blasted stuff was either slanted so nothing could stay on
+it, or was rotten--crumbling in your fingers, and that kind of bed will
+hold nothing.
+
+Therefore Jim had sunk about fifty prospect holes; got colors under the
+grass-roots, as evidence that pay should be there--and nothing but ashy
+wash beneath it.
+
+When a man is alone, and thinks things are wrong, optimism comes down on
+the run, the shades of pessimism gather fast and furious--more especially
+if a man does his own cooking, and the raw material is limited, at that.
+
+The sun had not moved the shadows three inches before Jim had reached the
+conclusion that this world was all a practical joke, of so low an order
+that no sensible man would even laugh at it, and he drew a letter from
+his pocket in proof thereof. It was a thin letter, written on delicate
+paper in a delicate hand, and it showed much wear. He read for the
+thousandth time:
+
+  Dearest Jim--And again I must say "no." Of course you will not
+  understand, for which foolish reason I like you all the better, but
+  you must try to take my point of view. You say that we can be
+  married on nothing and take our chances.
+
+  So we can, old simple-heart--but aren't those chances all against
+  us? Would you like to be forced to work in some office for just
+  enough to live on? You know you would not, and you know how you
+  would suffer in such slavery.
+
+  Nevertheless we can not live on air, and I doubt if I would stand
+  transplanting to the wild life you love, better than you to a
+  clerk's desk. You have that fancy which gilds the tin cans in the
+  back yard; I have that unfortunate eye which would multiply their
+  number by three, and their unsightliness by ten. I don't want
+  riches, dear; I only want a modest assurance that I can have enough
+  to live on.
+
+  Really, is your way of doing a guarantee of even bread and butter? In
+  the Garden of Eden you would be the most delightful of companions,
+  but in this world as it is, you will not fight for your own. You
+  would risk your life to save a dog, but you couldn't stay at a
+  continued grind--I mean it would kill you, actually, physically,
+  dead, dead--to save all of us. At first I thought that a fault in
+  you, but now, being older, having compared you to other men, I see it
+  is merely a missing faculty.
+
+  I could stick to the desk, and would gladly, if you would let me,
+  yet I could not even fancy behaving as you did at the factory fire,
+  which is still the symbol in the town for manly courage and presence
+  of mind.
+
+  They talk now of the way you laughed and joked with those poor
+  frightened girls (who had such good cause to be frightened) and
+  brought them back to sanity with a jest. I feel that if I had the
+  least atom of heroism in me I would marry you for that feat alone,
+  and let cold facts go hang; but, ah, Jim! magnificent as you are on
+  the grand occasions, they come but seldom, and in the meantime,
+  Jim--I'll leave that to your own honesty.
+
+  I'm plebeian, Jim, and you're a nobleman, with a beautiful but
+  embarrassing disregard for vulgar necessities.
+
+  However, I can say this for myself--for surely I may brag a little
+  to my lover--I can try to match your splendid physical bravery by
+  my own moral courage.
+
+  You may rest your soul in peace on one point. If I am not for you,
+  I'm for no man, no, not so much as a half-glance of the eye. I
+  wouldn't hold myself a bit more straitly if I were your wife.
+
+  You'll be angry at this letter. Well, I'll stand your anger. I have
+  caused it, and I'll bear the blame. I know that we could not be
+  happy without some visible means of support, yet I do not blame you
+  in the least for thinking otherwise.
+
+  Be as kind to me as you can, Jim, for I love you very much in my
+  commonplace way. I'll admit, too, that I had rather have your fire
+  than my refrigerator--oh, if you could only make some money--not a
+  great deal, but enough for a little house of our own, and enough in
+  the bank to buy groceries!
+
+  With my best love, and an aching lump in my throat,
+
+  Your mother, sister, and sweetheart,
+
+                                                               Anne.
+
+Jim dropped the letter, and his lips trembled a little. Parts of it
+touched him deeply, and he was the more enraged and hurt at the rest
+because of that.
+
+He could not call her mercenary. He knew better. More than one very
+comfortable income was at her disposal.
+
+Poor fellow! He could only grind his teeth and curse Sweet Briar gulch
+from the deepest pot-hole in the bed-rock to the top of its loftiest
+pine. He drew out her photograph, and obtained much sweet consolation by
+thinking how happy they two would be in Sweet Briar gulch together, even
+if there wasn't a cent of pay in the gravel.
+
+Sick of this ingenious torture, he lit his pipe and drew savagely upon
+it. With a mocking gurgle, about a dram of "slumgullion" passed into his
+mouth. It was the last touch. He spat out the biting, nauseating stuff,
+hurled the pipe upon the rocks and danced on it.
+
+And yet the colors frolicked in the gulch; the pines toned the air with
+healthy breath.
+
+From afar came the th-r-r-up! th-r-r-up! th-r-r-up of a galloping horse.
+It was Bud, the mail-carrier, coming, modestly and quietly, at a decent
+gait, down a trail where most would prefer to walk, and to "hang on" to
+something at that.
+
+At first Jim felt irritated by the interruption. He wanted to luxuriate
+in misery: still he was a vigorous, healthy man, and the cheery
+good-fellowship of Bud soon made away with that feeling.
+
+"Well, how they coming, Jimmy?" queried the young giant. "Hit her yet?"
+
+"Hit--well, much caloric,"--replied Jim. "I've begun to believe there
+ain't a durned thing here."
+
+"You're looking kind of owly, old man--what's up? Don't you feel well?"
+
+"Oh, Bud I I'm sick of everything this day--I don't believe in the
+constitution of the United States, including the thirteenth amendment,
+nor the ten commandments, nor the attraction of gravitation, nor anything
+else--it's all a damned lie."
+
+"No wonder you get like that, mousing around here without a chance to
+yappi with a feller critter. 'Nough to make you locoed.
+
+"Jump it for a spell. Go up town. Get loaded. Get horribly loaded. Break
+somebody's window, and tell the folks you're a Sweet Briar zephyr come to
+blow out their lights. Go ahead and do it. When your hair stops pulling
+you'll feel like a new man."
+
+Jim thought the advice sound, yet a strange feeling had developed in him,
+in his isolation; it was that the eye of Anne was always on him. He had
+fallen into a habit, which becomes a superstition when a man is alone, of
+acting as though she were there in person.
+
+However, he didn't feel called upon to offer Bud that explanation of his
+refusal. He conveyed the idea in one brief word.
+
+"Busted," said he.
+
+"Busted?" retorted Bud warmly. "Busted? Not much, you ain't busted whilst
+that little package is there, bet cher life! You call for what you want,
+and the cashier will make good."
+
+"Ah, Bud! How'll I ever pay you back? Keep it, man, keep it," replied Jim
+in a disheartened voice.
+
+"Say, you ain't got no call to worry about that part of it--there's where
+my troubles begin," returned Bud. "Now, you take these two bucks and jab
+'em in your jeans--Go on, now! Do as I tell you, or damned if I don't
+lick you and make you take 'em! What's the good of money if it ain't to
+help a friend out with? I don't care who gets drunk on it, just so long
+as they have a good time.
+
+"Boy, you'll be sailing up the track regardless of orders, with your
+boiler full of suds, if you don't get out in the scramble for a while."
+
+"Lord! I'd like to see a railroad train! Haven't heard a whistle for two
+years! How far is it to the nearest station, Bud?"
+
+"Plattsburg--fifty mile--due south."
+
+"Christmas! Little far to walk."
+
+"Say, you take this horse, Jim,--go ahead! I can walk just as well as
+not, I'm getting too fat, anyhow. Go on, you take the horse and have a
+ride to Plattsburg!"
+
+"Yes, take the shirt off your back, and never mind if a bit of the skin
+goes with it. I'll see you far away first. Tell you what you could do for
+me, Buddy; the herd of burros is around now, if you'd round up one of
+them for me?"
+
+"Sure thing! You sit on the mail sack till I come back. There's a heap of
+registered stuff in it this trip. Oh say! What do you think? I was held
+up t'other side of the Bulldog. Bang! Zipp! says a little popper from the
+bushes. I climbed for them bushes, and out goes a beggar like a rabbit. I
+was after him like a coyote, bet cher life. Who do you suppose it was,
+Jim?"
+
+"Hang it, how should I know?"
+
+"That little down-east cuss with the crook in his back. He begged hard.
+Poor devil, he was up against the sandpaper side, all right. He heard
+from the postmaster that there was a lot of valuable mail going out, so
+he thought he'd make a try for it. Then what do you think he had the
+cold, cold nerve to do?"
+
+"Pass it up--'most anything, I reckon."
+
+"Worse'n that. Struck me for fifty!"
+
+"And got it."
+
+"Got it? No, not much he didn't, sonny! He drew just ten, and he was
+lucky to get that. I've done a favor or two for that feller, first and
+last, and to have him shoot at me made me sore--although he missed me by
+several locations, I'll say that for him--so I gave him the ten and told
+him I'd kick the hump on his back so high up on his shoulders he could
+wear it for a hat, if he ever shoved into my daylight again. And you
+never in your life saw a humpback make better time than he did.
+
+"Well here's for your jack-ass--which way's the herd?"
+
+"Right up over the hill."
+
+Jim sat patiently on the sack until Bud returned with the burro.
+
+"Here's your thoroughbred!" holloed Bud. "Get ap, there, Mary. Look at
+the knowing ears of him, will you? You bet cher life, you've got an
+animile there that'll go when he gets ready, and as fast as he pretty
+well damn pleases--nail him!"
+
+Jim tied a gunny sack on his noble mount, and the two rode on together to
+the fork in the trail. Jim tried to thank his friend, who knocked his hat
+over his eyes, and said, "Aw, write it down when you've got more time.
+Never see a feller in my life I cottoned to more'n you, Jim. First I
+thought you was too smooth for my kind of traveling, but later, I see it
+was only the grain of the wood. I believe in my friends, I do. Here we go
+hopping around this little world for a small time, and then that's done.
+S'pose you ain't got any real friends for the trip? Rotten, I say. You go
+ahead and rip Plattsburg up the back. Wisht I could be there with you.
+Don't you mind consequences. So long, old man! Hike! You beggar!" The
+buckskin pony was off with a snort and a splashing of gravel as the irons
+touched his sides, and Bud vanished down the road without a look behind
+him.
+
+The next day Jim was in Plattsburg. One does not know what an alluring
+quality, what a hazy enchantment can linger around even a small town,
+until an absence in a real wilderness has given man's work a new flavor.
+
+The people coming and going, the traffic of the stores, the dwellings
+with small cultivated plots around them warmed Jim like a fire. He had
+been very lonely, without knowing it. In the afternoon he went down to
+the depot to see the eastern train come in.
+
+Here again absence played a part, and restored the locomotive to its
+proper proportions of a miracle.
+
+As the engine glided in, shaking the ground beneath it, it seemed
+impossible to Jim that man really made it. What! Bend those mighty rods
+of steel to his will? Twist and shape those others? Cast those great
+drivers? And after, to drive the monster with a hand?
+
+He drew back as the buzzing engine passed him, with something like awe.
+Then the moving village came to a stop and the passengers sallied forth
+to test their legs, wearied with long sitting.
+
+There was humanity of all shades, from the haughty aristocrat of the
+Pullman, to the peasant of the immigrant car.
+
+Jim had a sense of pleasure in beholding well-dressed folk again; yet it
+was merely an ęsthetic pleasure, for he found, when he began to
+speculate on the possibilities of the throng before him, that he was more
+interested in those whose all was staked on the trip, than in those to
+whom it was only an excursion.
+
+People of widely differing nationalities occupied the immigrant car. Jim
+wondered whether they would ever become Americans, according to his ideas
+of Americans, a people in which he had great pride and delight; and he
+shook his head doubtfully as he took them in.
+
+Suddenly a small boy darted out of a car; an exceedingly small boy, thin
+to emaciation, who made his way through the crowd with that sprawling,
+active, dancing manner peculiar to thin small boys and spiders.
+
+Jim half laughed at the little chap until he saw his face; then he
+realized at a glance that the matter was no laughing one for the boy.
+
+At the same time he saw the shocking thinness of the little face, made
+into a wolf's face by hunger; the mingled horror and desperation of the
+eyes; the big man would not have believed a child's face could express
+emotions of such magnitude. He was wonder-stricken at the sight, and felt
+an instinctive sympathy for the fugitive.
+
+It is a strange thing how fortune will sometimes guide with certainty,
+when reason shows no path.
+
+The boy came unerringly toward Jim; Jim had a sort of prophetic insight
+that he would. Back behind him the urchin ran. "Don't cher give me away,
+Mister!" he pleaded. Jim flapped a hand in answer.
+
+At the time he was leaning against a corner of the station; a little back
+of him was a small lean-to shed where various truck was stored.
+
+Out of the car came a burly brute of a man, who stared about him rapidly.
+
+"Dat's der ol' man," whispered the boy. "If he gits holt of me, there
+won't be a hull bone left in me body."
+
+The man walked up to the conductor and spoke to him.
+
+"Aggh!" said the boy. "Now dey'll get me sure--der jig is up--dey'll have
+der hull gang ertop o' me!" the voice trailed off into a strangled sob,
+and then continued in a fierce whisper: "Aggh! If I had me growth, I'd
+show 'em! I'd show 'em!" and then a burst of hair-raising profanity.
+
+The argument was growing loud between the man, who was urging something,
+and the conductor, who was declining; others were walking toward the
+moderate excitement.
+
+Jim wheeled and caught the boy in his arms. "Up you go!" he said, and
+tossed him on top of the shed. "Lie low behind the wood there, and you
+are all right."
+
+Then came the conductor's voice: "Say, my friend, if you think I'm going
+to hold my train while you hunt up a lost kid, there's something in you
+that don't work right! Why didn't you take care of him while you had him?
+Now you've got just four minutes by the watch; either hustle around and
+hunt, or drop off the train and hunt--what's that? Now don't you give me
+any slack, you black-muzzled tarrier, or I'll have the fear of God thrown
+into you too quick. Get out of here now! Get out of my way!"
+
+The man slouched off, and made a hasty search around the station. A
+woman's face--scarcely an improvement on the man's--leaned out of the car
+window and jeered at the hunter, who cursed her back savagely.
+
+The man walked up to Jim. "Say, did yer see a kid go by here, Mister?"
+
+With a shrug of his shoulders, Jim asked him that question in Mr.
+Ollendorf's French method, about the pink-and-green overcoat of the
+shoemaker's wife's sister.
+
+The man showered low abuse on what he supposed was a foreigner, until
+Jim's ribs rose with the desire to kill him.
+
+"Ayr, wot are yer wastin' time wid th' Dago fur?" called the woman. "Th'
+kid's on the roof!" Jim's heart almost stopped, so thoroughly had he
+identified himself with this quarrel. He made up his mind to fight for
+the boy, right or wrong.
+
+But he was saved the trouble. It was only a jest of the woman's, for she
+suddenly called, so earnestly that even Jim was fooled. "No he ain't
+neither; I see him! I see him! There he is." It was the perfection of
+acting, voice and gesture.
+
+The man ran out to see where she was pointing. "Where is he?" he asked,
+looking wildly around.
+
+"On top der flag-pole, like er monkey! You're it!" she cried, with a
+shriek of laughter at the black brows of her dupe.
+
+"I'll show yer der joke, when I git in dere!" he threatened.
+
+The woman leaned her chin on her hands and smiled. Jim never forgot the
+utter undauntedness, impudence and malice of that face. "Yer allus goin'
+to do sumpin', Pete!" she retorted. "Yer'll be a man yet."
+
+A more amiable man than "Pete" might have been provoked by such conduct.
+He strode forward with white-knuckled fists and a very unpleasant
+expression on his face. Several men started to interfere, but it wasn't
+necessary.
+
+The woman quietly looked at her bully, chewing a straw with the utmost
+nonchalance. "Give us a kiss," said she. The man's crest dropped. He said
+something in an undertone, and got on the car.
+
+Jim needed no further knowledge of this delightful couple to be
+thoroughly on the boy's side. It seemed to him that the man was quite
+capable of keeping a small animal at hand, for the fun of torturing it,
+and as for the woman--well, if there was her like in hell, Jim determined
+to be good for the rest of his days.
+
+"All aboard!" cried the conductor, and with a few mighty breaths the iron
+giant whisked its load out in the open again.
+
+"Stay where you are, son, till I see whether that fellow is playing a
+trick," said Jim, and not until he had looked under the platform, up and
+down the track, and in the waiting rooms, did he give the command, "Come
+down!"
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+The passenger agent saw the performance with astonishment. "So you had
+the boy tucked away all the time?" said he. "Just what kind of a game is
+this?"
+
+"Dunno," returned Jim. "Let the boy speak for himself. Now, young man,
+what's the matter?"
+
+The urchin stood before them, taking them in thoroughly with his sharp
+little eyes. More big men strolled up. As a particularly fine foil to the
+boy's diminutive form, Benny, the baggage smasher, whose overhanging
+shoulders testified whence came the power that had reduced many a proud
+Saratoga to elemental conditions, and "Happy Jack," the mammoth,
+soot-black, loose-jointed negro porter, placed themselves on either side
+of him. They made the boy look more like an insect than ever.
+
+"Wot's de matter?" he cried in a voice at once hoarse and shrill, with a
+cursing note in it, and accompanying the words with an extravagant,
+dramatic gesture of his skinny claw. "I'll tell yer wot's der matter--dey
+beat me--dey beat me bad. I don't ast youse to take me word fur it--look
+at me back--dat's all I ast yer--jes' look at dat!"
+
+He ripped the shirt from his shoulders. An angry growl went up from all
+those big-bearded men when they saw the horrible stripes and welts--raw,
+blue and swollen--on the poor little back.
+
+Happy Jack threw up both his gorilla arms. "Lord Jesus! Who done you like
+dat, boy?" he cried. "'F I got m' hookers on him, cuss me 'f I wudden'
+put bumps on him bigger'n yer hull body."
+
+"Now yer talkin'," shrieked the boy. He raised himself to the tips of his
+toes, bared his teeth to the gum, and with clutching talons, gripping at
+the air, yelled: "Aggh! If I had me growth! I'd bite his heart out! I'd
+tear his neck for 'im!"
+
+The men looked astounded on this mighty fury, pent in so small and
+miserable a cage. The voice had a peculiar alarming call to it, like the
+note of a fire-gong.
+
+Suddenly the boy's head dropped on the crook of his arm. "Treated me
+wuss'n a dog," he sobbed out. "Done me so it makes even dat nigger holler
+when he sees it."
+
+Happy Jack was taken aback. The other men smoothed down their faces
+forcibly.
+
+"Say, lil' boy, you think dat's a p'lite way to talk to people?" inquired
+Jack.
+
+The boy wiped his eyes on his sleeve and went over to him. "Say, don't
+yer holt nothin' ag'in me fur der word," said he. "Dey've got me
+looney--dat's wot--yer've used me liker fren'; and if it hoits yer, yer
+can kick me pants fur me, and I won't say nuthin'."
+
+"Well, there's two-pound-and-a-half of dead game sport for you, all
+right!" cried Benny. "Good eye, kid!"
+
+Happy Jack smiled a mollified smile eight inches wide. "You is all right,
+beau," said he. "An' as fur as my bein' a nigger's concerned, I'll admit
+my kerplection ain't light." He slapped his ham and brought down a foot
+on the platform. "Hyah, hyah!" he roared, "you bet dere ain't no dam'
+blond 'bout me!"
+
+The infectious darky laugh started the others off, and brought matters to
+a common-sense footing.
+
+The passenger agent took up the interrogation. Was the man the boy's real
+father? Answer: "How'd I know? Dat's der song he guv me." Were there any
+relatives? Friends? Answer: "Naw!" Well, what did the boy propose to do?
+Answer, digging his toes into the boards: "Didn't know--anyt'ing!" What
+was his name? "Jim." Jim what? "Didn't know. Sometimes der gun callt
+himself 'Darragh,' an' sometimes 'Mullen,' an' sometimes 'Smit.' Aggh! He
+callt himself the foist t'ing dat come to his tongue--he didn't have no
+real name."
+
+The agent talked to him a bit more, winding up by saying kindly: "You've
+had a pretty rough time of it, Jimmy, and we'd all like to give you a
+lift--now, just say what you'd like to do, and maybe we can fix it."
+
+"I'd like to go along wid dat feller, 'f he'll take me," replied the boy,
+tossing a thumb toward Jim Felton. There was a becoming access of shyness
+in his manner; moreover, Felton had an increased interest in him when he
+knew they bore the same name--a sort of kinship, as it were.
+
+"Well, it's up to you, Mister--" said the passenger agent, with a smile.
+
+"Felton," said Jim. "I'm in. I'll take the boy. Hard rustling down my
+way, but I guess we can make out somehow. Sure you want to go, kid?"
+
+"Yessir!" very heartily.
+
+"Done, then!"
+
+Happy Jack snatched off his uniform cap, spat on a bill, and flapped it
+into the bottom thereof.
+
+"Good-by, fren'!" said he. He shook the cap in front of the others.
+"Here's fur the lil' rooster; step up to the capen's office an' settle,
+gents!" he called. "'Member what de Bible says, 'Fool an' his money soon
+parted.' Come up! Come up!"
+
+They came up generously.
+
+"Stick a five in there for me, Bill," said Benny to the passenger agent,
+"I'm strapped."
+
+"How much you got, boy?" asked the agent, as Happy counted the money.
+
+"Fo'ty dollars, even money, Misto' Breckenridge." The agent was a
+bachelor with a fat salary. "Here, that makes it fifty," said he. He
+turned to Felton. "Now, what do you say if we go across the street
+and--er--discuss this matter a little further?"
+
+"Go you," replied Felton.
+
+"Now, Jimmy, you sit here for a moment. We're going on some business."
+
+The boy glanced at them sharply. "Youse fellers is goin' to get a drink,"
+said he.
+
+Those big men put their hands on their sides and roared.
+
+"You'll find that kid worse than a wife, Felton!" said the agent.
+
+"No use of our being hypocrites to the little chap. I reckon he's seen
+worse things than the inside of a saloon. Come along, laddybuck."
+
+They lined up and partook. The agent told the story of the waif. "And we
+started him off with fifty, Mac," he said to the saloon-keeper. "Suppose
+you break away from some of your ill-gotten gains in the good cause."
+
+The saloon-keeper opened his cash drawer without words and slid over a
+five-dollar bill. He seemed very glad to part with it.
+
+"Confound it! Now we're upsticks again," said the agent. "Tell you what
+let's do. Here's ten of us. Each man put up a two, and we'll shake the
+dice to see who gives it to the kid--winner to set 'em up. That'll make
+seventy-five--a very respectable figure."
+
+They played a new interesting dice-game, in which the figure of a pig
+drawn in chalk upon the bar furnished the "lay-out." It is a game which
+increases in interest to the last throw. They stuck the saloon-keeper,
+and were gleeful.
+
+"We ought to name the boy," said Felton, under the inspiration of the
+second refreshment. "My name's Jim, and I want something else to call him
+by. I'll make him a present of my last name."
+
+"Gad, that's so!" replied the agent.
+
+"Call him Chescheela Jim," put in a cow-man. "That's Injun for 'little
+Jim.' 'Ches' ain't a bad nickname."
+
+"Mac, hand over one of those toy sample bottles of California fizz," said
+the agent. "We'll put this craft down the ways in shape."
+
+Felton broke the neck off the bottle with a tack-hammer and poured the
+wine on the boy's head. "I christen thee Chescheela James Felton--may you
+become a good seaworthy craft, and not fill your skin with this stuff
+when you grow up," said he dramatically.
+
+The small boy squinted up his eyes to keep the wine out; then he shook
+the liquid from his hair, looked up and grinned.
+
+"Youse fellers is reg'lar kids," said he.
+
+"Lord, that's a great boy!" said the agent. "He's the oldest man in the
+crowd. Say, let's give him a white man's start, beginning with a bath."
+
+The whole party went to the barbershop and made the darky proprietor
+dispense a bath and a hair-cut for nothing.
+
+"Shave, sir?" asked the latter, when the hair had been properly trimmed.
+
+"No," replied the youth. "I t'ink I'll let me whiskers grow. Dere's enuff
+wind in dis country ter keep der moths outen 'em."
+
+Then they raided the clothing store, and abused the Hebrew owner until he
+reduced the price. "Oof der lodt--everyding, shennelmun! Sigsdy ber zent.
+Dere's no broffit left--it doaned bay fur the freight."
+
+"Look here, Sol! Will you swear that on a piece of pork?" demanded the
+agent. The Hebrew moaned.
+
+"Doaned dalk to me!" he cried. "My heardt iss prooken!"
+
+Clean, trimmed and clothed, Chescheela James Felton was a different
+looking boy. Months only could take those animal lines out of his face,
+and fresh air and wholesome food fill out the hollows of the cheeks, but,
+all in all, he was not a bad-looking youngster.
+
+Jim Felton bought some supplies for his camp, and prepared to start for
+home that afternoon, as they could yet make fifteen miles before dark.
+
+The new friends of the morning saw them off with hearty good-bys. The boy
+quite unexpectedly thanked them for their treatment and the money. The
+poor little soul had heard few words of gratitude, and had less chance to
+employ them.
+
+His speech was curious, but the generous big men saw behind the words,
+and felt really touched by the old-child's attempt to express himself.
+
+The two Jims soon pushed on, through the rolling foot-hills near the town,
+into the broken country. The boy kept watching, watching, but said little,
+until at last they came to the stupendous cliffs of Paha-Sahpedon,
+overhanging the trail with dark majesty. Jim happened to glance at the
+boy, and saw him looking up, mouth and eyes wide open.
+
+"Say, Mister!" gasped Ches. "Who built them!"
+
+"Built?" repeated Jim, puzzled. Then he understood. "The hand of God, my
+boy," he replied.
+
+The urchin shivered. "I feel's if dey was comin' ertop o' me," he gasped.
+"Let's hook it outer here."
+
+Jim spanked the burro, and they flew out of the Paha-Sahpedon at a
+canter.
+
+They camped that night in the spruces of Silver Creek, in one of the
+prettiest little places that ever lay out of doors. As they prepared the
+supper and ate it, sharing plate, cup and spoon, the boy was fairly
+ecstatic.
+
+"Dis is der bulliest ol' time dat ever I had," said he. "I didn't know
+dere was places like dis 'tall, 'cept Cintral Park. Yer can run aroun'
+here all yer like, can't yer, Mister? Nobuddy'll stop yer?"
+
+"Not if you ran a thousand miles, Ches. This is the free land, boy. You
+can do what you like." Jim spoke with warmth, for, although he felt that
+the child could not understand, yet the love of the country swelled in
+him so hot that he could never speak of it carelessly.
+
+"Dat's prutty damn good," responded Ches.
+
+"It is," replied Jim. "Now, Ches, will you do something to oblige me?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Well, then, don't swear. I don't like to hear boys swear."
+
+"I won't cuss another cuss, if I kin help it. Dey'll come out too quick
+for me sometimes, but I'll try to do dat, now."
+
+"Thank you. Now, let's get the stuff cleared up and roll in."
+
+In the middle of the night Jim heard a strange noise, a puzzling sound he
+could not trace. Becoming wider awake, it resolved itself into a stifled
+weeping.
+
+"Hello there, Ches! What's the matter?" he cried.
+
+The boy flung himself into Jim's arms with a cry. "Ar, I'm scart to
+deat'," said he. "Take holt uf me, Mister! Take holt uf me! Dere ain't
+anyt'ing but you and me here 'tall!"
+
+Jim gathered up the trembling figure. "Nothing will hurt you, Ches," he
+said. "You're safe here."
+
+"I wasn't t'inkin' of gettin' hurted," retorted the boy, with shaky
+indignation. "Did youse t'ink I'd weaken fur dat? Yer don't know me, den.
+Dat ain't bodderin' me--I've been hurted plenty. I'm just scart, dat's
+wat's der matter."
+
+"Well, now, you cuddle right up in my arms, like a little puppy dog, and
+you'll feel all right."
+
+"Say, you're prutty good stuff, Mister Felton," whimpered the little
+voice. "Dis is der bulliest time I ever had, even if I am scart."
+
+"I think you're a brave boy, Ches. Now go to sleep."
+
+A small hand reached timidly around until it found the man's and gave it
+an affectionate squeeze. "Good night, sir," said Ches.
+
+Jim lay awake, thinking dreamily, long after the boy's regular breathing
+showed that he was at peace again. The man felt a tenderness for the waif
+so abruptly put in his care that only a lonely man can feel. He
+speculated about the boy's future; he wondered what kind of a man he
+would make. Surely, with a foundation of such courage, the better part
+could be brought out.
+
+Then he wondered what Anne would say to the adoption, or rather what
+advice she would give, for he felt entirely sure of her broad humanity,
+outside of their one difference. He felt the need of her practical sense.
+Soon he had drifted into thinking of Anne entirely. Not bitterly now, but
+with a steady longing. The gray light of the waning moon, sifting through
+the boughs, was the true lumina for reverie. Why had he not answered her
+letter? Perhaps by this time--
+
+What was that moving in the grass? He had noticed a sort of something
+before. He threw up his right hand in a threatening gesture, to frighten
+the intruder away.
+
+Instantly he got his answer, and an icy wind seemed to ruff his
+hair--that insistent, dry, shrilling sound that will make a man's blood
+turn cold if anything will--the whirring defiance of a rattlesnake!
+
+Jim thought quick and hard, with chills and fever coursing over him _ad
+libitum_. He did not want to waken and frighten the boy. He managed to
+slip his arm out without disturbing the sleeper. But now! There wasn't a
+club around except the short sticks of the fire. A two-foot stick is not
+the proper equipment for rattler hunting, except to those born with
+nerves so strong that they do not hesitate to catch Mr. Crotalus by the
+tail and snap his head off.
+
+Jim thought of the rope he had used for a cinch, and made for it with his
+eye on the snake, lest the latter should approach closer to the boy.
+
+With a deep thankfulness for the heft of the rope, he returned and struck
+with all the strength of his big body, and pounded away in a sort of
+crazy rage, although the first stroke had done the business.
+
+He snapped the sweat from his brow as he looked down at the still
+writhing reptile.
+
+"My God! What might have happened if the boy hadn't waked me?" he
+thought. The superstition of the miner rose in him rampant. "I believe
+that kid's going to bring me good luck," he said. "Darned if I don't.
+Well, I could stand some."
+
+He took up the body of the rattler on a stick and heaved it far away,
+then lit his pipe.
+
+"I don't think I care for any more sleep to-night," he laughed. "Like
+Ches, it ain't that anything will hurt me out here, but I'm everlastingly
+scared."
+
+He watched the night out, revelling in his enjoyment of the mystery of
+the coming morning, that phase of the day which never ceases to be
+unreal, and which calls out of the watcher sentiments and emotions he is
+a stranger to for the rest of the day.
+
+The sun hung on the sharp point of Old Dog-Tooth like a portent, before
+he woke the boy.
+
+Ches was all amazement for a second; then he gave a glad cry.
+
+"Gee! Yer still here, ain't yer? No pipe in dis." He looked all around
+him. "Say! Dis is a reg'lar teeayter uf er place, ain't it?" he remarked.
+"Dis is der scene where der villun almost gits der gent wid der sword, if
+der stage mannecher didn't send sumun ter help 'im out."
+
+Jim laughed at the sophisticated infant. "You don't believe in the
+theater much, then, Ches?"
+
+"Aggh!" replied Ches. "If it ain't seven it's 'leven on der stage--but
+it's mostly craps in der street."
+
+"Well, son, there are such points on the dice," admitted Jim. "But let's
+have something to eat and we'll feel better."
+
+Ches rustled around after sticks in his funny, angularly active style,
+singing a song the while from the gladness of his heart. It was a merry
+song, about mother slowly going down the hectic path of phthisis
+pulmonalis, and sister, who has--one is led to believe--taken to small
+bottles, small hours and undesirable companions, refusing to come home
+and lift the mortgage which is shortly to be foreclosed--all in the
+narrow confines of twenty-five verses.
+
+Jim listened to the inspiriting ditty in astonishment.
+
+          "'Bird of the wilderness, blithesome and cumberless,
+          Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!'"
+
+he quoted. "For Heaven's sake, child," he continued, in some irritation,
+"where did you learn that echo of the morgue?"
+
+"Don't you like 'er?" asked Ches, in his turn astonished at such a lack
+of taste. "W'y, dat's er gig in der city--everybuddy an' der ginnies wid
+der organs is givin' dat out all day long."
+
+"Well, let 'em," commanded Jim. "Don't introduce it to this part of the
+country. As you render it, through the nose, and with the wail at the
+end, it is a thing to make a strong man lie down and give up the ghost in
+sheer disgust. Ches, does it really make you feel good to sing it?"
+
+"Yessir--kinder," replied Ches hesitatingly.
+
+"Lord!" thought Jim. "What a life, to make a song like that a
+recreation!" Then aloud: "It's bad luck to sing before breakfast, Ches.
+I'll teach you a livelier song than that when we hit the trail again."
+
+So it came to pass that during the first miles of their day's journey the
+way was enlivened by the notes of _The Arkansas Traveler_, _Garry Owen_,
+_Where's My Linda-Cinda Gone?_, _Baltimore Girls_, and other songs of a
+lively character.
+
+Ches approved of these in moderation. Then Jim tried an experiment. With
+a serious face, but half an eye on the boy, he howled, moaned and grunted
+_The Cow-boy's Lament_, which still presents the insoluble problem of
+whether the words or the music are drearier. "OooooOOO!!! Pla-a-ay your
+fifes l-o-o-w-l-y, a-a-nd beee-eat your drums sl-o-o-o-wly, and play the
+dead m-a-arch as you carry me o-o-o-on!" mourned Jim. Ches was all
+attention. "For I'm o-o-o-nly a p-o-o-o-r cow-boy, and I know I've done
+w-r-o-o-o-o-o-ng!" wailed the singer, in conclusion. "How'd you like
+that, Ches?"
+
+"Say, dat's a ringer!" cried the boy enthusiastically.
+
+Jim sat him down by the roadside and laughed his fill. "I think you're
+hopeless," he gasped.
+
+The boy was hurt in a way he could not understand. Something pained
+him--a new sensation, of not being up to the requirements of another's
+view. His forced acute intelligence made a bull's-eye shot.
+
+"P'r'aps w'en I've got er chist and t'umpers on me like you, I'll like
+der udder kin' er song," he said.
+
+Jim looked at the pathetic little figure on the burro, and his conscience
+smote him. "That's right, boy," he replied very kindly. "I was only
+joking--ought not to be any ill feeling between friends over a joke, you
+know. Now, you sing ahead all you plenty please."
+
+"Don't say nuttin' more about it," replied Ches. "It's all square."
+
+A little farther on Jim noticed a piece of quartz outcrop with a metal
+stain on it. Now, a miner can no more pass such a thing than some others
+could refuse to pick up the pin shining at their feet, so he took a stone
+and hammered off a specimen for future reference. In the meantime Ches,
+on the burro, got around the turn of the trail.
+
+Suddenly the boy set up a shout of excitement. "Oh, Mister!" he yelled,
+with a string of profanity, his promise forgotten in his heat. "Come
+quick, an' look at der cat! Come quick, quick, quick! What a cat! You
+never see sich a cat!"
+
+Jim dashed forward. "Well, I should say cat!" he remarked, as he took in
+the situation. On a ledge about fifty feet above the road crouched a
+full-grown mountain lion, ears back, eyes furtively glimpsing every
+avenue of escape, yaggering at the intruders savagely.
+
+The small boy in Jim Felton rose on the instant. "Pelt him, Ches! Pelt
+him!" he cried, and let fly the rock in his hand by way of illustration.
+A wild animal seems to have little idea of a missile.
+
+The lion held his ground and let the stone strike him in the side. Then,
+with a screech like the vital principle of forty thousand tom-cat
+fights--a screech that left a sediment in the ear-drums of the listeners
+for the balance of the morning--he fairly flew up the straight side of
+the cliff, followed by a rain of projectiles.
+
+"Ches, we oughtn't to have done that," said Jim soberly. "If that fellow
+had been of another mind, he'd have made this the warmest day of our
+lives."
+
+"W'y! Will dey fight?" asked Ches, his eyes wide open.
+
+"They will that, son, sometimes," replied Jim. Then he launched into the
+tales of wild beast hunts, drifted from that to the romance of the gold
+field, the riches coming in a day--the whole glamour of it.
+
+Never did narrator have more attentive listener. There was a sort of
+white joy in the boy's face.
+
+"Oh, ain't I glad to git in dis!" he cried. "Here's just wot I been
+lookin' fur." Suddenly he struck Jim on the shoulder with a tightly
+clenched fist. "I made fur youse der first t'ing--didn't yer see me? I
+know me man all right. Der secont I put me peeps on yer I ses ter meself,
+'Dat feller won't t'row yer down, Chimmy'--ain't I right, hey? Ain't I
+right, Mister?"
+
+Jim patted him on the back. "I think you're right, old man," he said.
+"I'll do anything I can for you."
+
+"Yer don't hafter tell me dat--I know it," replied the boy. A sudden sob
+gathered in his throat and choked him. "Yer don't know wot I been
+t'rough, Mister--it 'ud laid out many er big stiff ten times me size.
+I'd--don't youse laugh at me now, becus I'm only a kid--I'd give me
+heart's blood fur youse, s' help me, I would, now!"
+
+"Shake hands, pardner," said Jim, his own voice a trifle hoarse. "We'll
+do fine together--I know we will."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+They crested the last sharp rise, and looked down upon the little cabin
+huddling in the spruces--an island of humanity in the beautiful sea of
+the wilderness.
+
+It seemed to Jim as if the small house brightened in appearance at the
+return of its soul; his heart in turn rose with a home feeling; his
+belief in the treasure which lay where the new channel cut across the old
+wash--that treasure which would make the world so different--came back to
+him like a renewed love. His hands ached for a grip on pick and shovel.
+His strong muscles twitched with eagerness to be at work again.
+
+Suddenly a ponderous and gross sound, out of all proportion to the size
+of its source, smashed the mountain silence into slivers. It was the
+burro's greeting to his companions, and the echoes fluttered it from
+cliff to cliff until it faded into the merest tint.
+
+"Kerissmus! How many of dem is dere?" asked Ches, astonished at the
+demonstration. At that instant the herd welcomed the returned one.
+
+The cańon was full of brays; colliding, rising, falling and swelling in
+a tumult of noise against which the dreadful shouting of the gods at the
+fall of Troy would have seemed as the wail of a kitten.
+
+"Say, I don't like dat!" said Ches. "What's loose?"
+
+Jim had watched the growing astonishment of the boy's face with
+suppressed emotion, but now he hugged himself and uproariously laughed
+his laugh out.
+
+"That, Ches," he replied, "is a matter of fifteen or twenty donkeys and
+an echo--did you think it was the end of the world?"
+
+"I t'ought it was gittin' on well past der middle, all right," retorted
+Ches. "What 'ud yer expeck of a man dat never heerd der like before?"
+
+"I knew what to expect. I never heard them either till I came out here. I
+was digging a hole up the side of that hill yonder, and had begun to feel
+that there was something behind me, and that it was almost time to go
+home, when old Jack, who has the voice of his family, poured out his soul
+about twenty rods away. I was half way home, Ches, before I got sand
+enough to go back and investigate. But now listen, and you'll hear
+something prettier than that."
+
+He put his fingers to his lips and whistled a bugle call.
+
+                  "I can't get 'em up,
+                  I can't get 'em up,
+                  I can't get 'em up in the morning,"
+
+sounded Jim. And back came the pretty reveille in a fabric of music,
+indescribably interwoven; sharp and staccato from the neighboring walls;
+the lightest of whispers from the distance, turning and twisting upon
+itself and starting afresh when all seemed still.
+
+"Say, dat _is_ prutty!" said Ches enthusiastically. "Hit her again!"
+
+"Young man, you can come up here whenever you feel like it in the future,
+but as for now, I'm for home and grub."
+
+"Dat ain't so bad, neither. Der animile's jumped me up an' down till I
+cud hold more'n a man. Dis spook's hang-out business won't quit, will
+it?"
+
+"No, sir; that's a fixture. Hang on tight now, and I'll race you to the
+cabin--one, two, three!" and away sprinted Jim down the hill trail, the
+burro lumbering after.
+
+"No fair! No fair!" yelled Ches. "Yer've got me skate doped! T'row us a
+tow!"
+
+Jim wheeled at the doorway and took in the excited, happy little figure
+bumping on the burro's back. For once in his life he had the satisfaction
+of an indisputable proof that he had done well. With a sudden access of
+affection he caught the boy in his arms and stood him on the ground.
+"Well, here's our home, Ches," he said.
+
+Home! The street Arab filled his puny chest, took a long, devouring look
+about him, and sought a definition of the word to make sound the lift of
+pride and hope that rose within him.
+
+"Yer mean nobuddy kin chase us out of dis?"
+
+"Nobody."
+
+"It's our'n!" the boy went on with curious vehemence. "Like dis here,"
+snatching an old knife from his pocket and shaking it in his tight fist,
+"ter t'row away, ter sell, er ter keep, and nobuddy got nuttin' ter say
+about it?"
+
+"Just that, laddybuck. That and nothing else."
+
+"No more slinkin' an' snoopin' aroun' dodgin' der coppers; no more
+stallin' fer der push; no more dirt of no kind--say, I can't git dat jus'
+in a minute."
+
+He stood grappling with the new idea. In the search an old one came to
+the top. His face changed rapidly. The furtive, hunted look returned. In
+a tone, the odd quiet of which contrasted with the former heat, he spoke
+again. "Yer for _me_, now, ain't yer, Jim? If--if der Gun should happen
+ter come here, yer wouldn't t'row me down at dis stage of der game?"
+
+The big man answered him with an equal soberness. He thrust a hand before
+the boy's eyes--a splendid hand, massive and corded at the base, running
+out to long, shapely, intelligent fingers, and every line in it spoke of
+power.
+
+"Do you see that hand, Ches?"
+
+"Yessir."
+
+"If the 'Gun' shows his face where that hand can get a grip on him, it
+will do the business for him in one squeeze, and if the hand can't reach,
+there's a rifle inside that can. Now get that out of your mind once for
+all."
+
+"Well--" said the boy, "well--aw, I'll be damned, dat's all I kin say,
+Jim," and rushed into the house.
+
+The miner leaned back and laughed, and blew his nose; and laughed again
+and blew his nose again; then he wiped the dust out of his eyes, swore a
+few words himself, and followed the boy within.
+
+The next day Jim started on his work in earnest. Before, he had sunk a
+hole here or there in the broad smooth surface of the bar of gravel that
+he felt certain hid his bonanza.
+
+Now, he determined to begin at the creek bank and drift straight across
+the bar. That meant six hundred feet of tunnel at the best, unless
+fortune was much kinder than she had hinted at before--quite an
+undertaking for one man, considering the timbering and all.
+
+It must have been a miner who wrote, that hope springs eternal in the
+human breast. Surely in no place other than the mines is the fact so
+manifest. There was once a man seventy-three years old who was sinking
+through a cap of cement two hundred feet thick. The stuff was just this
+side of powderwork, barely to be loosened with a pick. The old man had to
+climb down sixty feet of ladder, fill his bucket, climb up again and dump
+it, and so on and so on and so on. Besides, he had to walk thirty miles
+and back again with his load, whenever he ran out of provisions. It had
+taken him a year to put his shaft down the sixty feet. There was one
+hundred and forty more to go, each foot getting harder, the Lord only
+knew what would be at the bottom when he got there; yet to sit in that
+old man's cabin for an hour was to obtain a complete exposition of the
+theory and practice of optimism. It is an unbelievable story and would be
+senseless, were it not entirely true.
+
+Beside that effort, Jim's task took on the tint of an avocation, but the
+man who runs six hundred feet of tunnel single-handed earns whatever may
+be at the end of it.
+
+The tunnel was the one thing that Ches abhorred in his new surroundings.
+Whether it was that it reminded him of the dingy holes of his city life,
+or whether it was a natural antipathy, Ches was one of those who can
+never enter a confined space without the sensation of smothering--at any
+rate, neither argument nor coaxing could get him to put a foot within its
+dark mouth.
+
+An old miner would have shared his feelings in this instance, for Jim, so
+thorough in some things, was a careless workman. Your old miner would
+have shaken his head at the weak caps and recklessly driven lagging;
+frames out of plumb and made of any stick that came to hand--more
+especially as they were to support loose dirt of the most treacherous
+sort.
+
+Ches worked outside, dumping the car that Jim had made of four tree
+sections for wheels, and sluice-box boards for sides. Jim, the ingenious,
+had rigged up a pulley system, whereby Ches could run the car out and in
+without interrupting the work on the face.
+
+It was hard labor for Ches at first, but he gritted his teeth and stuck
+it out manfully.
+
+"Bime-by," he would say to himself, "I'll have er muscle on me like Jim,
+an' den I'll yank dis cussed ol' car right out in der middle of der
+crik," and he examined the small bunch on his arm critically a dozen
+times every day.
+
+Meanwhile, his hero and idol was outdoing the human in his exertions. The
+effort he put forth would have killed an ordinary man. He fought the
+stubborn earth as though it were an enemy. Stripped to the waist, bent
+over in the low tunnel, hour after hour Jim plied the pick and shovel
+with the regularity and power of a machine. There was at once something
+fascinating and heroic in the rippling glide of the muscles over his
+broad back, and in the supple swing that sent the pick to join the packed
+dirt.
+
+It all looked so easy. It was as if the dirt were very soft, and not the
+striker very strong. Nevertheless, fourteen hours a day of this, varied
+occasionally by cutting timbers and carrying them by hand to the
+tunnel--some of them a weight enough for a horse, others not adequate,
+"just as they came" being careless Jim's motto--told even on his engines.
+
+They had a certain mark on the cańon side--a wild-cat's hole it was--and
+when the sun threw the shadow of the western wall upon the mark, the
+day's work was finished.
+
+Ches used to watch this with attention. "Yer move along all right till
+yer gits half way up, den yer jus' crawls, yer ol' beggar!" was his
+standing remark on the progress of the shadow. Still, he always gave good
+measurement.
+
+Toward the last of the month Jim grew an interest in their clock.
+
+"Where's the blame thing now, Ches?" would come hollowly out of the
+tunnel.
+
+"Three more cars away, Jim,--jus' tippin' the white rock."
+
+Then the cheery shout of "All over!" and the worker stepping out into the
+fresh air, soft and cool in the twilight, hooking the sweat from his
+forehead, and wishing that supper would cook itself. Sometimes the
+wild-cat looked down upon them from his eyrie.
+
+"Ches," said weary Jim, "if that lad thinks at all, he must think we're
+awful fools."
+
+"He wouldn't be so tur'ble off his guess, neider," replied the equally
+weary Ches.
+
+After supper, however, the world seemed different. There was Jones's
+Hill--(a man of large ideas, was Jones, to call that mass of rock a
+hill)--shining red-hot in the last light against a topaz or turquoise
+sky, and the gulch that ran up to it in a mystery of dark green gloom
+offering up an evening prayer of indescribable odors--those appeals to a
+life in former spheres which no other sense remembers; the ceaseless roar
+of the wind in the pines, so steady that it formed a background for other
+sounds almost as good as silence itself; the evening pipe, and the talk
+of what had been done and what was to be done--all these made amends.
+
+And then the sleeping--such sleeping! And waking up in the morning in the
+exact attitude one went to sleep the night before! Sleep that washed out
+all the former day's fatigue, and started them as eager as hounds for
+that of the new day. That is, within limits, for, when a man overworks as
+continually as Jim had done, no paradise sleep nor balsam air can turn
+him right perpetually.
+
+And for that reason the claim declared a holiday, consisting of a hunting
+trip. It was a curious hunting trip. Not one "bang!" went the clean and
+polished rifle. They stalked four deer, crawling on their bellies,
+quivering with the chase, rounding behind rocks. Then when the game was
+within range, up went the rifle, Jim squinted along the sights--then
+dropped it.
+
+"What's der matter?" whispered Ches. He had been waiting for a long time
+to hear the gun go off.
+
+"They seem to be having a pretty good time by themselves there, Ches."
+
+"Yes--dat's so--but I've heard deer-meat was good." Ches was disappointed
+at this manner of hunting.
+
+"So it is," replied Jim, "probably nobody has that notion stronger than
+the deer." He followed the four pretty animals below them with tense
+eyes. He loved to hunt but he hated to kill.
+
+"See here, boy," he said, sitting down and pulling off his boots, "I
+think I can show you some fun--do you notice they're feeding up to that
+nose of rock? Well I used to be rather quick on my feet once, and I think
+if I can slip down behind there without their winding me, if one gets
+close enough I can catch him with my hands--which is a trick I'd like
+muchly to accomplish. Now you sit here and watch, and for your life,
+don't make a move or sound! By Jiminy! if I could do that!" He trotted
+light-footed down the slope out of sight.
+
+The boy soon saw him reappear behind the sharp rock-wall that jutted out
+into the valley, rubbing crushed pine-needles upon himself with the idea
+of overpowering the human odor, although, whether effective in its
+purpose or not, it was not necessary--a strong up-wind from deer to man
+making it impossible that they could scent him.
+
+They waited and they waited, a big man crouched like a tiger below, and a
+highly excited small boy above, while the deer did every exasperating
+thing that animals could do.
+
+They started straight for the rock, grazing along, and then for no reason
+in the world beat back on their tracks, or turned to right or left. They
+even went so far as to lie down, chewing most contentedly.
+
+One hour went by--two--when suddenly the buck rose and walked straight up
+the cańon in a course that would take him within twenty feet of the
+rock. Jim heard him snort and prepared for action, laying hold of a
+corner of stone to get a spring from all-fours.
+
+The deer's shadow floated black on the grass before him, and Jim
+leaped--to the biggest surprise of his life, for instead of making the
+least effort to escape, the buck charged, and that with such sudden fury
+it was all the man could do to lay hold of him anywhere as they came to
+dirt together.
+
+The next ten seconds was delirium, each combatant doing something as
+quick as he could without any definite aim. Jim received a painful rake
+across the chest from the antlers, and a jab in the leg from the sharp
+hoofs, while the deer was the worse for several bangs over the head and
+an ear nearly pulled off, as they rolled over together.
+
+It came over Jim with the force of a revelation that he had got into a
+very different business from that which he had intended. Instead of the
+"timid deer" whose capture was the difficulty, he found himself engaged
+with a horned and hoofed demon, and the problem was how to get away.
+
+Meanwhile, Ches had legged it down the hill-side at his best speed,
+enthusiastically cheering what he supposed was a prearranged performance.
+Jim had promised him fun, and that whirling heap below supplied plenty of
+it.
+
+"Hooray!" yelled Ches. "Hooray! Hold him dere, Jim, till I get down!"
+
+Jim heard the shrill voice, as he succeeded, after a desperate effort, in
+getting an arm around the deer's neck, so that he could do something in
+the choking line, and he smiled grimly in the heat of battle. "All right,
+Ches!" he gasped. "Don't--hurry!"
+
+"Keep out of this!" he yelled a moment later as Ches burst out from the
+bushes. "You'll get killed!"
+
+But Ches was not to be denied. He danced around the pushing, tugging,
+straining storm-center, and the moment opportunity offered, slipped in
+and seized the buck by a hind leg.
+
+If he had touched an electric battery, the effect could not have been
+more instant. The deer fanned that muscular hind leg, with its boy
+attachment, at the rate of seven hundred strokes to the minute. Poor
+Ches' head was nearly snapped off his shoulders, and the breath was
+literally jerked out of his body, but he hung on, with all the strength
+that pulling the car had given him.
+
+It was not much help, but it was a diversion. Jim gulped a lungful of
+air, gathered his powers and came down with all his might. Slowly the
+stubborn neck, bent--so slowly that Jim feared he would give out before
+gaining the mastery. As it yielded, his leverage increased, and at last,
+exerting every ounce of strength that was in him, he downed the foe and
+held him there, his leg over the front legs whose armament he had felt
+before, and was not desirous of feeling again.
+
+But the deer gave up the struggle, and lay quiet, looking up with great
+pleading eyes.
+
+"Yes, you devil!" cried Jim, "you look meek enough now, but if you
+weren't a handful of hard luck ten seconds ago I never ran across one.
+You hurt, Ches?"
+
+"I got a lovely t'ump on me smeller, but I'm in it yet--do I let go or
+don't I?"
+
+"Not on your life--wait a moment!" He worked his weight over on the
+deer's body. "Now!" he said. "Quick! Jump loose!" Again the deer glanced
+up reproachfully, as though to say, "How suspicious you are!"
+
+The instant Ches jumped clear, so did Jim. They watched their late
+antagonist, who sprang to his feet and went off with frisky leaps,
+apparently as fresh as ever.
+
+Then they looked at each other. Ches was rubbing his stomach with his
+left hand, while he wiped the blood from his nose with the right. Jim's
+coat and trousers were torn; he had a deep scratch across his chest, a
+gouge in his leg, and he trembled from the exertion.
+
+"Well--Ches!" he panted, "we've--had--a--nice--rest--haven't we?"
+
+"Wouldn't it 'a' been tur'ble if yer hadn't caught him?" replied Ches.
+And then they simply whooped.
+
+A good incident is an opal among gems in a lonely life. You can turn it
+over and over and always get new colors.
+
+On the home trip, as Nimrod Jim stalked along with his follower trotting
+beside, they rehearsed every detail of the unexpected encounter. Jim
+crouched and leaped again, giving his sensations when the buck did
+likewise. Then he waited while Ches ran down a side hill and threw
+himself upon a sapling, which for the time was a deer's hind leg.
+
+They were just of an age--any one would have said so, on seeing them
+approach the cabin, arms flying, tongues wagging, bruised, tired and
+happy.
+
+"Jim," said a very sleepy little boy after supper, gorged like an
+anaconda, "yer don't see t'ings like dat in N'york--not much yer don't. If
+dat racket had come off in der Bowery, dere'd be head-lines--'dlines--on
+der extries--more'n a mile--"
+
+Jim picked him up and tucked him into his bunk. "More'n a mile long--g'
+nigh'," sighed Ches.
+
+Jim lit his pipe and went out for an evening smoke. It was some little
+time the next morning before he could realize what he was doing out there
+under the tree.
+
+He had been in some ways a graver man of late. What he had undertaken as
+an experiment, a generous impulse, had been turned into a lasting
+responsibility.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+On the second day after Ches' arrival, Bud had come through with the
+mail, and before leaving, drew Jim aside, out of the boy's hearing.
+
+"The little feller's yours agin all comers now, Jim," he said.
+
+"What's that?" asked Jim, surprised by the meaning in the tone.
+
+"He's _yours_," repeated Bud. "That sweet-scented blossom that called
+himself the boy's dad, filled his skin with red-eye farther up the line
+and settled the fuss he had with his dame."
+
+"Hurt her?"
+
+"Man!" said Bud slowly, "he used a knife a foot long--gave it to her a
+dozen times as hard as he could drive--what's your opinion?"
+
+"Lord Almighty! Did he get away? But no, of course he couldn't, being on
+the train--"
+
+"He didn't get away. The Con. wired the news to Kimballs. What was he to
+do when a small army of punchers boarded the train and took the prisoner?
+He couldn't do nothing, and he never loved that black-muzzled whelp from
+the time he sassed him in the depot. The punchers took our friend out and
+tried him."
+
+"Tried him?"
+
+"With a rope. In three minutes by; the watch he was found wanting--your
+boy now, Jim, as I was telling you. Going to say anything to him about
+it?"
+
+"Why," said Jim, bewildered, "why, I don't know, Bud--guess not, just
+yet, on general principles. What do you think?"
+
+"Think you're right," said Bud. "The poor little rooster couldn't help
+but feel glad to hear the news, but it would sound kind of awful to hear
+a kid like that say he was glad two people were killed. Better wait till
+he's been with you a while, Jim, and learned something different."
+
+Jim flushed at the implied compliment. "You're right, Bud, I will."
+
+"Great little papoose, ain't he?" said Bud, turning in his saddle before
+his starting rush. "Makings of a man there, all right. The boys in town
+are dead stuck on him. I'll have to give a complete history when I get
+back. I must get a gait on, or I'll have Uncle Sammy on my neck
+again--inspector started out with me this morning."
+
+"The devil he did!" cried Jim indignantly, well knowing the hardships and
+dangers of the big rider's route.
+
+"Oh, it's all right!" replied Bud with a wave of his hand. "Come out
+fine. When the lad first told me he'd been sent out to see why the mails
+was so late on this line, I told him I'd show him right on the spot, but
+he said there was no use getting hot about it, as he was only doing his
+duty, so I quieted down.
+
+"He was a decent sort of feller. I thought to myself before we got under
+way, 'Now, there won't nothing happen this day--everything'll go as
+smooth and slick as grease, and this feller will report that I'm
+sojering,' that's the way it usually works, you know. But this time I
+played in luck.
+
+"Two miles out of town we ran into a wild-eyed gang from somewhere, who
+was going to make us dance. We didn't dance, and I'll say for that
+inspector that he stood by me like a man, but he was awful sick at his
+stomach later on from the excitement.
+
+"Next thing, the bridge was down at Squaw Creek, and we swum her. He'd
+have gone down the flume, if I hadn't got hold of his bridle. 'Nice mail
+route, this,' says he, as he got ashore. 'Oh, you'd like it,' says I, 'if
+you got used to it.' I'd begun to wonder what was next myself. Ain't many
+people swimming Squaw Creek, as you perhaps know.
+
+"Well, next was about ten mile along, just before you come to the old
+Tin-cup Camp. We was passing the bluff there, and all of a sudden, rip,
+thump, biff! Down comes what looked like the whole side a-top of us. It
+weren't though. It was only a cinnamon had lost his balance, leaning over
+too far to see what we was. That bear landed right agin brother
+inspector's horse, and brother inspector's horse tried to climb a tree.
+Inspector himself fell a-top of the bear. I dassent shoot, for the devil
+himself couldn't have told which was inspector and which bear. Finally
+bear shakes himself loose and telescopes himself up the cańon, the worst
+scared animile in the country. 'If you'll ketch my horse, I'll amble back
+again,' says the inspector. 'I've investigated this route pretty
+thorough, and find it's just as you say. Lamp-posts'll do me all right
+for a while.' Come out fine, didn't it?
+
+"Whish there! Untie yourself, you yaller bone-heap!" And the mail was a
+quarter of a mile up the trail.
+
+Jim pondered the information concerning Ches carefully, only to adhere to
+his original determination. He could not see any way in which the boy
+would be benefited by hearing the news. Still, the miner hated anything
+that savored of concealment or deception.
+
+"I wish Anne was here to help me," he thought; "she'd know what to do."
+
+He sat long, looking down, his hands clasped about his knees, drinking
+with old Tantalus. But the reverie ended as it always did--in action.
+There was nothing for it but the claim. Success there meant success
+everywhere.
+
+It was the knowledge that Anne, the boy, and all he wished to do for both
+depended on the pay-streak which had urged him to such a fury of effort.
+
+His carelessness of his own life, that led him to slap his timbering up
+any way, was born of that same fury. And the consequences came like most
+consequences, without a moment's warning.
+
+It was a still and beautiful noon. Ches had pulled out the last car
+before dinner, and started for the cabin.
+
+A curious groaning and snapping from the tunnel halted him. It was the
+giving of the tortured timbers. On the heels of that came a dull,
+crushing roar. A blast of dust shot from the tunnel-mouth, like smoke
+from a cannon, preceded by a shock that nearly threw the boy off his
+feet.
+
+Then all was still again. The sun shone as brilliantly as before, blazing
+down upon the ghastly face of a little boy, who, after one heart-broken
+cry of "Jim! Oh, Jim's killed!" sank down upon the ground, chewing the
+fingers thrust in his mouth, that the pain might make the black wave keep
+its distance.
+
+For Ches knew that he was alone; that there was no human being within
+miles to help the man caught in the hand of that mischance but himself,
+so frantically willing, but so impotent.
+
+"I must git me wits tergedder--I must!" and down came the teeth with all
+the strength of the boy's jaw. "Oh, what will I do? What will I do?" The
+little head waved from side to side in its agony, and a sudden sob struck
+him in the throat.
+
+After that one small weakness rose Ches Felton, hero. To the mouth of the
+tunnel he went. Above the tumbled pile of dirt and timber ran a sort of
+passage, between it and the roof.
+
+A way along which a boy might crawl and find out if all the frames were
+down--to which the silence of the tunnel gave a bitter assent--or if by
+some most lucky chance one or two had held, and Jim be safe within.
+
+Ches climbed to the top and thrust his head into the gloom. "Jim!" he
+called, "Jim!" No answer.
+
+Before him lay the ruin of his pardner's work. It was over this that his
+path lay, as deadly dangerous a path as could be found. The slightest
+disturbing of the roof above might bring down a thousand tons of dirt
+upon the one who ventured, slowly and hideously to crush his life out,
+there in the dark, beyond sight and sound of the cheerful world without.
+With this knowledge before him, and his inborn fear of the dark hole, as
+daunting as the hand of death itself, he took his soul in his gripe, and
+wormed his way within.
+
+Sometimes his back grazed a stone in the roof, and the touch of white-hot
+iron could not have been so terrible; sometimes a falling stone near him
+would make his heart leap and stop as he waited for the hill above to
+follow. Foot by foot he made it, twisting around the end of a post,
+scooping out the dirt most cautiously where the hole was too small for
+even his slight body.
+
+Once the sharp end of a broken piece of lagging caught in his clothes,
+and he could go neither forward nor back. There, for a second, he broke
+down. Bracing up again, he managed somehow to get the old knife out of
+his pocket and cut himself free.
+
+He could see little.
+
+A gray spectral light filtered in here and there that defined nothing,
+even when his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.
+
+It was an endless journey. In places where the dirt closed in he would be
+a full minute progressing a foot, and a minute of such mortal terror as
+seldom falls to the lot of man of peace or soldier.
+
+But it ended.
+
+Suddenly the boy's outstretched hand encountered only emptiness below.
+That frame had held. He dove into the space head first, and landed on
+something soft and warm--the body of his pardner.
+
+He had found him. In a paroxysm of joy, he flung himself upon the
+motionless figure and cried his heart out. This, too, he soon conquered.
+Jim had just so much show--any delay might wipe it out. He searched the
+man's pockets until he found a match. By its light he saw the candle
+stuck into the post, and lit it. Then he knelt beside his pardner again.
+
+It was a curious picture within that gloomy chamber underground. The
+miner lying stark, stretched to his full great length, appearing enormous
+in the flickering candle-light, and the child, white-faced, big-eyed, but
+steady as a veteran, wiping the blood from the ragged cut in the man's
+head.
+
+Ches realized what had happened the instant before the calamity. Jim,
+startled by the noise of the yielding timbers, had made a rush, only to
+be struck down by the rock, that now lay within an inch of him; yet
+struck into safety for all that. Had he gone a yard farther, the life
+would have been smashed out of him instantly.
+
+But now, what? The flowing blood sent a sickening chill through the boy.
+Had he done this much only to be able to see his pardner die? He drove
+his teeth into his hand again at the thought. What was that? Was it a
+trick of the tunnel, his heart sounding in his own ears, or a rhythmic
+beat from outside? Hollow and dull fell that "clatter-clum-clatter-clum."
+
+"Bud!" screamed Ches, "T'ank God, dat's Bud!"
+
+After half a dozen efforts he climbed the dirt pile and went back through
+the treacherous holes. The rider came so fast! "Oh!" groaned the boy,
+"I'll never make it! Bud'll t'ink we're off somewheres an' pull
+on!--_Bud_! BUD!" he called at the top of his lungs; but the tunnel
+swallowed the little voice.
+
+Desperation made him entirely reckless. It was any way to get out before
+the mail-man was beyond call. Glairy with sweat, he pulled, tugged,
+squirmed and wriggled along, until a dirty, small bundle rolled down
+almost under the mail-rider's feet.
+
+"Whoa!" shouted Bud with an astonished oath. "What's the--why boy, what's
+the matter? Damn it! how you scart me!"
+
+One look at him froze the man; he said no more, but waited, watching the
+working face of the child, who was mastering himself once more, in order
+to tell a quick, straight story, that no time might be lost.
+
+"Der tunnel's fell in, Bud; Jim's in dere where der frame's held. He's
+livin' yet, but he's got a tur'ble cut in his head."
+
+The mail-rider drew out paper and tobacco, and rolled a cigarette. It was
+his method of biting his hand. He loved the man inside that dark blotch
+on the hill-side with an affection only known where men are few and
+strong. And because he loved him, Bud was going to keep his head cool and
+clear, to find the right thing to do and do it the right way.
+
+For all his calm outer man the mind within was whirling. He turned to the
+tense little face before him for help, and with an admiration that knew
+no bounds.
+
+"How far back?" he asked.
+
+"T'ree frames was held--dere was seven, ten foot apart--how much is dat?"
+
+"Forty feet--ten foot apart! No wonder! Oh, Jim! How could you have been
+so careless?"
+
+The boy's shoulders shook once. "He worked like er horse--now it's all
+gone an' he's in dere--" The face was contorted out of all humanity, but
+he held the tears back.
+
+Bud leaped from his horse. "Never you mind, Chessy lad!" he cried,
+hugging up the little figure, "we'll get him out of that, by God!--Could
+we haul him out the way you went?"
+
+"No, dere ain't room--an' if you touch dat roof hard--" he shuddered.
+
+Bud sucked in his breath. "If you weren't the sandy little man to try
+it!" he said. He stood a moment in silence going over it all.
+
+"Ches," he said, "there ain't any time to lose. If Jim's cut like that he
+may bleed to death in there when we could save him all right if we had
+him outside.
+
+"There's a party of miners down the road eight mile. They was having
+their grub as I went by. Chances are they'll be there yet. They've got
+four men and a team. I _could_ ride back, but I ought to be here working.
+Do you think you could stick on old Buck and ride there?"
+
+"I kin."
+
+"By God! I hate to do it--but there ain't any other way!" The big man
+ground his teeth together. "I hate to do it--damned if I'll do it!"
+
+Ches caught his hand. "I kin make it, Bud," he pleaded; "I cuddent do
+nothin' if I stayed here, an' you could do a heap. Put me up and let me
+try."
+
+"All right," said Bud. "The good Lord kept you from getting hurt in the
+tunnel, perhaps He'll see you through again. Shut your eyes and hold on
+tight when you strike the high places, and don't touch a rein--leave it
+all to old Buck."
+
+He stepped forward and caught the horse by the bit.
+
+"Buck!" he said, as though talking to a human being, "you and me have
+been through a heap together--don't fall down on me, now!--Take the kid
+safe, old boy!" He caught Ches up and threw him across the saddle.
+"You'll only have to tell 'em what's happened--the Lord send nothing
+happens to you! Good-by, you brave little devil--we'll win out yet. Go
+it, Buck!"
+
+And while one of Jim's friends plied pick and shovel like a mad man, the
+other was swaying on top of a galloping horse, gripping the pommel of the
+saddle with all the strength he had, and shutting his eyes when he came
+to the high places.
+
+Captain Hanrahan's party were miners of substance. They were working
+their way out to a new country to suit their inclinations. It had just
+been suggested that it was perhaps time to hit the trail again when the
+captain saw a figure on a horse flying athwart the mountain side--the
+regular road was bad enough, but Bud had short cuts of his own, and Buck
+followed his usual way.
+
+"Huh!" said the captain, "that man's drunk or crazy?"
+
+"Holy sufferin'!" gasped the man next him, as the yellow horse slipped on
+a turn and sent a shower of gravel a thousand feet below. "That was a
+near touch," as the horse caught himself and swept on.
+
+"Looks to me like a case of trouble, Cap," said a third speaker. "That
+ain't no man, anyhow--it's only a boy."
+
+"Horse running away with him, probably--his folks ought to be clubbed for
+letting him out on such an animal. Well, spread out, boys, and we'll
+catch him."
+
+But Buck stopped in two jumps, at Ches' command of "Whoa!"
+
+"Fren's!" cried the boy, "me pardner's caught in a tunnel dat caved in on
+him. Kin yer help us out? Three mile above Jones's Hill."
+
+He had not finished the sentence before two men sprang for the horses.
+The rest grabbed picks and shovels and hurled them into the wagon.
+
+"We'll be there, hell-a-whooping," said Captain Hanrahan.
+
+"T'anks!" replied Ches weakly, and then the world went out. The captain
+caught him as he fell.
+
+"Poor little cuss! He rid hard to help his pardner!" said the captain.
+"Hump yourselves, boys--all ready! Got the whisky, Pete? Picks enough?
+Stick the axes where they won't jump loose and cut a leg off some of us.
+Tie the horse behind--good animal, that. All right, let 'em go!"
+
+They went. Over stones and gulleys, the tools clanging and banging fit to
+leap from the wagon, the men clinging to the side-boards for dear life.
+
+Down hill-sides like the slant of a roof, the horses keeping out of the
+way of the wagon; up the other side with the reeking animals straining
+every fiber; over bridges that bent fearfully beneath the shock of their
+onset; swaying around curves with the wheels sluing and sparks flying,
+and over the level as though the devil himself were behind them.
+
+It was the record trip for eight miles in a wagon in that country. The
+driver stood up, a foot braced on either side, the reins thrown loose,
+the whip plied hard, and every urging that voice could give shrieked out
+by his powerful lungs.
+
+It was like the rush of a fire-engine, plus twice the speed, and twenty
+times the danger. Above the pounding of hoofs, the din of rattling metal,
+the crash, smash and roar of the wheels and the yells of the driver could
+be heard the man Pete, ex-cowpuncher, cheerfully singing,
+
+                  "Roll your tails, and roll 'em high,
+                  We'll all be angels by-and-by."
+
+Braced in the back corner sat Captain Hanrahan, his leg keeping some of
+the tools from going overboard, holding Ches in his arms.
+
+"Curse it all, Billy!" he screamed to the driver, "miss _some_ of them
+bumps, will you? I've got on a new pair of pants."
+
+"I'll take 'em clean off you the next time, Cap!" retorted the driver.
+
+They joked, which may seem heartless; but they risked their necks a
+hundred times, and that isn't very heartless.
+
+"That's the place, I reckon, Cap!" said the driver, pointing. "Somebody
+working there now!"
+
+"Give 'em a hoot!" replied the captain.
+
+Bud stepped out and held up his hand in answer to the yell. The wave of
+thanksgiving at the sight of this most efficient help took all the
+stiffness out of the knees of the mail-rider. The tears rolled down his
+face unnoticed.
+
+"You're welcome, boys," he cried, as the driver sawed the frenzied team
+to a standstill and the men sprang out.
+
+"Reckon we are," said the captain. "Now what's up?"
+
+"Is the boy hurt? Good God! He ain't hurt himself, has he?"
+
+"Naw; pore little cuss is used up, that's all. He'll be around all right
+in a minute. Now tell me, what's loose."
+
+Bud answered briefly, but completely.
+
+"Pete and Billy, get to cutting wood--the rest of you come here,"
+commanded the captain.
+
+"You ain't going to stop to timber, are you?" asked Bud in an agony of
+haste.
+
+"I sure am," replied the captain. "All this trouble's come of
+carelessness. Now you just keep your clothes on, and let me run this
+thing.
+
+"We'll have your friend out in no time, and there won't be no more men
+stuck in there with a hill a-top of 'em in the doing of it. What you've
+done there is a help all right, but it might easy have meant that we'd
+had two men instead of one to hunt for."
+
+"You're dead right," said Bud. "Tell me what I'm to do."
+
+The captain took hold as only a man can who has the genius for it. He
+knew by long practice what size of a relief tunnel meant real speed of
+progress--the least dirt to be removed to make it possible that men could
+work to advantage. And his tunnel, safely rough-ceiled, went in at the
+rate of a foot a minute.
+
+When at last they pulled the insensible man out into the light of day,
+and found that while his wound, though severe, and if neglected mortal,
+was not likely to be dangerous with good attention, the captain said that
+he must be getting about his business.
+
+"Oh, stay a little longer, fellers, till he comes to," remonstrated Bud.
+"He'd like to have a chance to say 'Thank you.'"
+
+"Bugs!" replied the captain. "You tell him he owes us a drink, and as a
+particular favor to me, please not to put his frames over four foot apart
+in that ground.
+
+"We're likely to be back here shortly, anyhow, because I think your
+friend has got hold of the right idea from what you tell me of his plans;
+but it'll take more'n one man to really prospect it. If we don't hit it
+where we're going, we'll sure come back."
+
+"Well, boys, _I_ can thank you and I'm going to," said Bud. "That man is
+my friend, and if you hadn't come as you did--"
+
+"Say, let go," interrupted the captain. "You'd have done the same thing
+if you'd been us, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Bud reluctantly.
+
+"And you wouldn't want to be thanked for it a white chip more'n we do,"
+concluded the captain. "If there's any thanks coming it is to that little
+two-foot chunk of man yonder. Snaking over that fall was a thing to put a
+crimp in anybody. You was bound to help your pardner, wasn't you, son?"
+
+The boy looked up into the captain's eagle face. "I'd 'er got to Jim," he
+answered simply, "'f I'd had ter chew me way in like a rat."
+
+The captain stepped back and looked at him.
+
+"By the Lord!" he said slowly, "I believe you would!" A change came over
+the thin, arrogant face. He stooped suddenly, raised the boy and kissed
+him. "Now, get out o' this!" he roared at the driver, as he leaped into
+the wagon.
+
+They waved their hands as long as the miners were in sight, and stood
+staring until Pete's statement that they'd all be angels by-and-by was
+lost in the distance.
+
+"Pretty good folks when you're in trouble, ain't they, Ches?" said Bud.
+
+"What 'ud we have done, if dey hadn't come?--Ain't it 'mos' time Jim was
+moving, Bud?"
+
+"I'll give him another spoonful of whisky, but you can't expect him to
+start right up and hop around. He got an awful crack, boy."
+
+For all that, as the dose of strong liquor went down Jim's throat, he
+opened his eyes.
+
+"Hello, Bud! Hello, Ches!" he said wonderingly. "Have I been
+asleep?--Why, what the devil's the matter with my head?" he raised his
+hand to the spruce-gum bandage. "Phew! But I feel weak!" he sighed as his
+hand dropped. "Something's happened--what is it?"
+
+There, with a friend on each side holding a hand, they told him the
+story. It was a sacred reunion.
+
+The gratitude of the man saved, and the protestations of the others that
+they would have done all they did a thousand times again would only seem
+childish in repetition. They cried, too, which is excusable in a child,
+but not in two big men. Men don't cry. It is the monopoly of women.
+Nevertheless, Bud and Jim and Ches cried and swore, and shook hands and
+cried again until it was a pitiful thing to see.
+
+"Well," said Bud at last, "this makes you feel better, but it won't get
+the work done. I've got to go out and fix old Buck and get in some
+firewood."
+
+"Oh, I'll do that!" cried Jim, raising himself on his elbow.
+
+"You?" jeered Bud. "You look like it! Now, you lie right down there and
+get well--that's your play. It would make us feel as if we'd wasted our
+time if we had to turn to and bury you after all the trouble we've had.
+You're good for two weeks in that bunk, old horse."
+
+"Two weeks! I can't, Bud; I can't! I must get up before that!"
+
+"You lie down there--hear me?"
+
+"But I'll have to see to things around--you can't stay."
+
+"I stay right here till you're well."
+
+"But the mail?"
+
+"The devil take the mail--or anybody else that wants the job. Uncle Sammy
+won't hop on to my collar button, because of the fine send-off my friend
+the inspector'll give. And somebody will get orry-eyed up in town, and
+come down to find what's loose. He'll take the bags then. It's all
+settled."
+
+"But there are other things--"
+
+"Let 'em rest. Now I'm off to do the chores--oh, say, speaking of mail,
+here's a letter for you I forgot all about in the excitement--here you
+go. Come along, Ches, and help me carry wood."
+
+The miner looked at the letter in his hand, and a tinge of blood crept
+into his white cheeks, then ebbed, leaving them whiter than before.
+
+Suppose there were other men who wanted her; men with money, learning,
+wit and influence. Was this bitterest of blows to fall upon him when he
+was already down? He looked at his hands, green from loss of blood. "I
+tried," he muttered, "I tried."
+
+Still the very touch of the paper seemed to have something warm and
+heartening in it. It was from _her_, anyhow. With sudden strength he tore
+it open and read:
+
+  Dearest, Dearest Jim--I yield the whole case. You are right.
+
+  It is to my shame that clear-sightedness came from no source within
+  me, but from a brave example set.
+
+  My little cousin married the man she loved last week, and, of
+  course, Miss Anne was a high functionary.
+
+  Oh, what a stirring there was in me, Jim, watching them and thinking
+  of you!
+
+  They will be as poor as church mice, but they do not care, and
+  theirs is the wise economy.
+
+  Life is too short to waste, Jim, I see it now. I put it all in your
+  hands, dearest; if you can not come to me, I shall come to you.
+
+  I believe I'm only lukewarm by habit, not by nature.
+
+  I wish I could tell you how sorry I am for the time I have squandered.
+
+  I'll show you, that will be better.
+
+  Any time, or any place and no conditions now, Jim. That's all, my
+  dear brave lover. Good night.
+
+                                                     Your own, Anne.
+
+He was sitting bolt upright. Once more he devoured the letter. Then he
+sank back and closed his eyes.
+
+"Thank you, my darling, I can rest now," he said.
+
+The golden sunset light played in riotous joyousness on the cabin walls;
+the little creek laughed out loud; so did Ches and Bud, approaching the
+cabin. It was a beautiful and happy world.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch, by Henry
+Wallace Phillips, Illustrated by F. Graham Cootes</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch</p>
+<p>Author: Henry Wallace Phillips</p>
+<p>Release Date: June 16, 2008  [eBook #25809]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-top:1em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Mascot of</span></p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em; margin-bottom:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Sweet Briar Gulch</span></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p><i>By</i></p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.2em; margin-bottom:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Henry Wallace Phillips</span></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>Author of Red Saunders</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>Plain Mary Smith</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'><i>etc</i>.</p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>With Illustrations by</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.0em; margin-bottom:2em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>F. Graham Cootes</span></p>
+<div style='margin-top:1em'></div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em;'>NEW YORK</p>
+<p style=' font-size:1.0em;'>GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP</p>
+<p style=' font-size:0.8em; margin-bottom:2em;'>PUBLISHERS</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Copyright</span> 1908</p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Bobbs-Merrill Company</span></p>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>October</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div class='ce'>
+<p style=' font-size:1.4em;'><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class='silver' />
+
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_1' name='page_1'></a>1</span>
+<h2>THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The gulch ran in a trough of
+beauty to the foot of Jones&#8217;s
+Hill, which rose in a sweeping curve
+into the clouds.
+</p>
+<p>Wild flowers, trees in profuse leaf,
+and mats of vines covered the scarred
+earth, and the sky was as limpid as
+spring water; the air carried a weight
+of heart-stirring odors, yet Jim Felton,
+sitting on the door-step of his cabin in
+the brilliant sunshine, was not a happy
+man.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_2' name='page_2'></a>2</span></p>
+<p>He looked at the hollow of the gulch
+and cursed it manfully and bitterly.
+The gold should be there&mdash;Jim had
+figured it all out. The old wash cut at
+right angles to the creek, and at the
+turn was where its freight of yellow
+metal should have been deposited, but
+when you got down to the bed-rock, the
+blasted stuff was either slanted so nothing
+could stay on it, or was rotten&mdash;crumbling
+in your fingers, and that
+kind of bed will hold nothing.
+</p>
+<p>Therefore Jim had sunk about fifty
+prospect holes; got colors under the
+grass-roots, as evidence that pay should
+be there&mdash;and nothing but ashy wash
+beneath it.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_3' name='page_3'></a>3</span></p>
+<p>When a man is alone, and thinks
+things are wrong, optimism comes
+down on the run, the shades of pessimism
+gather fast and furious&mdash;more
+especially if a man does his own cooking,
+and the raw material is limited, at
+that.
+</p>
+<p>The sun had not moved the shadows
+three inches before Jim had reached
+the conclusion that this world was all
+a practical joke, of so low an order that
+no sensible man would even laugh at it,
+and he drew a letter from his pocket
+in proof thereof. It was a thin letter,
+written on delicate paper in a delicate
+hand, and it showed much wear. He
+read for the thousandth time:
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_4' name='page_4'></a>4</span></p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dearest Jim</span>&mdash;And again I must
+say &#8220;no.&#8221; Of course you will not understand,
+for which foolish reason I
+like you all the better, but you must try
+to take my point of view. You say that
+we can be married on nothing and take
+our chances.
+</p>
+<p>So we can, old simple-heart&mdash;but
+aren&#8217;t those chances all against us?
+Would you like to be forced to work in
+some office for just enough to live on?
+You know you would not, and you
+know how you would suffer in such
+slavery.
+</p>
+<p>Nevertheless we can not live on air,
+and I doubt if I would stand transplanting
+to the wild life you love, better than
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_5' name='page_5'></a>5</span>
+you to a clerk&#8217;s desk. You have that
+fancy which gilds the tin cans in the
+back yard; I have that unfortunate eye
+which would multiply their number by
+three, and their unsightliness by ten.
+I don&#8217;t want riches, dear; I only want
+a modest assurance that I can have
+enough to live on.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-004.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Really, is your way of doing a guarantee
+of even bread and butter? In the
+Garden of Eden you would be the most
+delightful of companions, but in this
+world as it is, you will not fight for your
+own. You would risk your life to save
+a dog, but you couldn&#8217;t stay at a continued
+grind&mdash;I mean it would kill
+you, actually, physically, dead, dead&mdash;to
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_6' name='page_6'></a>6</span>
+save all of us. At first I thought that
+a fault in you, but now, being older,
+having compared you to other men, I
+see it is merely a missing faculty.
+</p>
+<p>I could stick to the desk, and would
+gladly, if you would let me, yet I could
+not even fancy behaving as you did at
+the factory fire, which is still the symbol
+in the town for manly courage and
+presence of mind.
+</p>
+<p>They talk now of the way you
+laughed and joked with those poor
+frightened girls (who had such good
+cause to be frightened) and brought
+them back to sanity with a jest. I feel
+that if I had the least atom of heroism
+in me I would marry you for that feat
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_7' name='page_7'></a>7</span>
+alone, and let cold facts go hang; but,
+ah, Jim! magnificent as you are on the
+grand occasions, they come but seldom,
+and in the meantime, Jim&mdash;I&#8217;ll leave
+that to your own honesty.
+</p>
+<p>I&#8217;m plebeian, Jim, and you&#8217;re a
+nobleman, with a beautiful but embarrassing
+disregard for vulgar necessities.
+</p>
+<p>However, I can say this for myself&mdash;for
+surely I may brag a little to my
+lover&mdash;I can try to match your splendid
+physical bravery by my own moral
+courage.
+</p>
+<p>You may rest your soul in peace on
+one point. If I am not for you, I&#8217;m for
+no man, no, not so much as a half-glance
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_8' name='page_8'></a>8</span>
+of the eye. I wouldn&#8217;t hold myself
+a bit more straitly if I were your
+wife.
+</p>
+<p>You&#8217;ll be angry at this letter. Well,
+I&#8217;ll stand your anger. I have caused it,
+and I&#8217;ll bear the blame. I know that
+we could not be happy without some
+visible means of support, yet I do not
+blame you in the least for thinking
+otherwise.
+</p>
+<p>Be as kind to me as you can, Jim,
+for I love you very much in my commonplace
+way. I&#8217;ll admit, too, that I
+had rather have your fire than my refrigerator&mdash;oh,
+if you could only make
+some money&mdash;not a great deal, but
+enough for a little house of our own,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_9' name='page_9'></a>9</span>
+and enough in the bank to buy groceries!
+</p>
+<p>With my best love, and an aching
+lump in my throat,
+</p>
+<p>Your mother, sister, and sweetheart,
+</p>
+<div class='ra'>
+<p style='text-align: right; '><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Anne</span>.</p>
+</div>
+
+</div>
+<p>Jim dropped the letter, and his lips
+trembled a little. Parts of it touched
+him deeply, and he was the more enraged
+and hurt at the rest because of
+that.
+</p>
+<p>He could not call her mercenary.
+He knew better. More than one very
+comfortable income was at her disposal.
+</p>
+<p>Poor fellow! He could only grind
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_10' name='page_10'></a>10</span>
+his teeth and curse Sweet Briar gulch
+from the deepest pot-hole in the bed-rock
+to the top of its loftiest pine.
+He drew out her photograph, and obtained
+much sweet consolation by
+thinking how happy they two would
+be in Sweet Briar gulch together, even
+if there wasn&#8217;t a cent of pay in the
+gravel.
+</p>
+<p>Sick of this ingenious torture, he
+lit his pipe and drew savagely upon
+it. With a mocking gurgle, about a
+dram of &#8220;slumgullion&#8221; passed into
+his mouth. It was the last touch. He
+spat out the biting, nauseating stuff,
+hurled the pipe upon the rocks and
+danced on it.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span></p>
+<p>And yet the colors frolicked in the
+gulch; the pines toned the air with
+healthy breath.
+</p>
+<p>From afar came the th-r-r-up!
+th-r-r-up! th-r-r-up of a galloping
+horse. It was Bud, the mail-carrier,
+coming, modestly and quietly, at a decent
+gait, down a trail where most
+would prefer to walk, and to &#8220;hang on&#8221;
+to something at that.
+</p>
+<p>At first Jim felt irritated by the interruption.
+He wanted to luxuriate in
+misery: still he was a vigorous, healthy
+man, and the cheery good-fellowship
+of Bud soon made away with that feeling.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, how they coming, Jimmy?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span>
+queried the young giant. &#8220;Hit her
+yet?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hit&mdash;well, much caloric,&#8221;&mdash;replied
+Jim. &#8220;I&#8217;ve begun to believe there
+ain&#8217;t a durned thing here.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re looking kind of owly, old
+man&mdash;what&#8217;s up? Don&#8217;t you feel
+well?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, Bud I I&#8217;m sick of everything
+this day&mdash;I don&#8217;t believe in the constitution
+of the United States, including
+the thirteenth amendment, nor the ten
+commandments, nor the attraction of
+gravitation, nor anything else&mdash;it&#8217;s all
+a damned lie.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No wonder you get like that, mousing
+around here without a chance to
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span>
+yappi with a feller critter. &#8217;Nough to
+make you locoed.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jump it for a spell. Go up town.
+Get loaded. Get horribly loaded.
+Break somebody&#8217;s window, and tell the
+folks you&#8217;re a Sweet Briar zephyr come
+to blow out their lights. Go ahead and
+do it. When your hair stops pulling
+you&#8217;ll feel like a new man.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim thought the advice sound, yet a
+strange feeling had developed in him,
+in his isolation; it was that the eye of
+Anne was always on him. He had
+fallen into a habit, which becomes a superstition
+when a man is alone, of acting
+as though she were there in person.
+</p>
+<p>However, he didn&#8217;t feel called upon
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span>
+to offer Bud that explanation of his refusal.
+He conveyed the idea in one
+brief word.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Busted,&#8221; said he.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Busted?&#8221; retorted Bud warmly.
+&#8220;Busted? Not much, you ain&#8217;t busted
+whilst that little package is there, bet
+cher life! You call for what you want,
+and the cashier will make good.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ah, Bud! How&#8217;ll I ever pay you
+back? Keep it, man, keep it,&#8221; replied
+Jim in a disheartened voice.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, you ain&#8217;t got no call to worry
+about that part of it&mdash;there&#8217;s where my
+troubles begin,&#8221; returned Bud. &#8220;Now,
+you take these two bucks and jab &#8217;em in
+your jeans&mdash;Go on, now! Do as I tell
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span>
+you, or damned if I don&#8217;t lick you and
+make you take &#8217;em! What&#8217;s the good
+of money if it ain&#8217;t to help a friend out
+with? I don&#8217;t care who gets drunk on
+it, just so long as they have a good time.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Boy, you&#8217;ll be sailing up the track
+regardless of orders, with your boiler
+full of suds, if you don&#8217;t get out in the
+scramble for a while.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord! I&#8217;d like to see a railroad
+train! Haven&#8217;t heard a whistle for two
+years! How far is it to the nearest station,
+Bud?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Plattsburg&mdash;fifty mile&mdash;due
+south.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Christmas! Little far to walk.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, you take this horse, Jim,&mdash;go
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span>
+ahead! I can walk just as well as not,
+I&#8217;m getting too fat, anyhow. Go on,
+you take the horse and have a ride to
+Plattsburg!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, take the shirt off your back,
+and never mind if a bit of the skin goes
+with it. I&#8217;ll see you far away first. Tell
+you what you could do for me, Buddy;
+the herd of burros is around now, if
+you&#8217;d round up one of them for me?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure thing! You sit on the mail
+sack till I come back. There&#8217;s a heap
+of registered stuff in it this trip. Oh
+say! What do you think? I was held
+up t&#8217;other side of the Bulldog. Bang!
+Zipp! says a little popper from the
+bushes. I climbed for them bushes, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span>
+out goes a beggar like a rabbit. I was
+after him like a coyote, bet cher life.
+Who do you suppose it was, Jim?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hang it, how should I know?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;That little down-east cuss with the
+crook in his back. He begged hard.
+Poor devil, he was up against the sandpaper
+side, all right. He heard from
+the postmaster that there was a lot of
+valuable mail going out, so he thought
+he&#8217;d make a try for it. Then what do
+you think he had the cold, cold nerve
+to do?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pass it up&mdash;&#8217;most anything, I
+reckon.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Worse&#8217;n that. Struck me for fifty!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And got it.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Got it? No, not much he didn&#8217;t,
+sonny! He drew just ten, and he was
+lucky to get that. I&#8217;ve done a favor or
+two for that feller, first and last, and
+to have him shoot at me made me sore&mdash;although
+he missed me by several locations,
+I&#8217;ll say that for him&mdash;so I gave
+him the ten and told him I&#8217;d kick the
+hump on his back so high up on his
+shoulders he could wear it for a hat,
+if he ever shoved into my daylight
+again. And you never in your life saw
+a humpback make better time than he
+did.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well here&#8217;s for your jack-ass&mdash;which
+way&#8217;s the herd?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Right up over the hill.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></p>
+<p>Jim sat patiently on the sack until
+Bud returned with the burro.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Here&#8217;s your thoroughbred!&#8221; holloed
+Bud. &#8220;Get ap, there, Mary. Look
+at the knowing ears of him, will you?
+You bet cher life, you&#8217;ve got an animile
+there that&#8217;ll go when he gets ready, and
+as fast as he pretty well damn pleases&mdash;nail
+him!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim tied a gunny sack on his noble
+mount, and the two rode on together to
+the fork in the trail. Jim tried to thank
+his friend, who knocked his hat over
+his eyes, and said, &#8220;Aw, write it down
+when you&#8217;ve got more time. Never see
+a feller in my life I cottoned to more&#8217;n
+you, Jim. First I thought you was too
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span>
+smooth for my kind of traveling, but
+later, I see it was only the grain of the
+wood. I believe in my friends, I do.
+Here we go hopping around this little
+world for a small time, and then that&#8217;s
+done. S&#8217;pose you ain&#8217;t got any real
+friends for the trip? Rotten, I say.
+You go ahead and rip Plattsburg up
+the back. Wisht I could be there with
+you. Don&#8217;t you mind consequences. So
+long, old man! Hike! You beggar!&#8221;
+The buckskin pony was off with a snort
+and a splashing of gravel as the irons
+touched his sides, and Bud vanished
+down the road without a look behind
+him.
+</p>
+<p>The next day Jim was in Plattsburg.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span>
+One does not know what an alluring
+quality, what a hazy enchantment can
+linger around even a small town, until
+an absence in a real wilderness has
+given man&#8217;s work a new flavor.
+</p>
+<p>The people coming and going, the
+traffic of the stores, the dwellings with
+small cultivated plots around them
+warmed Jim like a fire. He had been
+very lonely, without knowing it. In the
+afternoon he went down to the depot to
+see the eastern train come in.
+</p>
+<p>Here again absence played a part,
+and restored the locomotive to its
+proper proportions of a miracle.
+</p>
+<p>As the engine glided in, shaking the
+ground beneath it, it seemed impossible
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span>
+to Jim that man really made it. What!
+Bend those mighty rods of steel to his
+will? Twist and shape those others?
+Cast those great drivers? And after,
+to drive the monster with a hand?
+</p>
+<p>He drew back as the buzzing engine
+passed him, with something like awe.
+Then the moving village came to a stop
+and the passengers sallied forth to test
+their legs, wearied with long sitting.
+</p>
+<p>There was humanity of all shades,
+from the haughty aristocrat of the
+Pullman, to the peasant of the immigrant
+car.
+</p>
+<p>Jim had a sense of pleasure in beholding
+well-dressed folk again; yet it
+was merely an ęsthetic pleasure, for
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span>
+he found, when he began to speculate
+on the possibilities of the throng before
+him, that he was more interested
+in those whose all was staked on the
+trip, than in those to whom it was only
+an excursion.
+</p>
+<p>People of widely differing nationalities
+occupied the immigrant car. Jim
+wondered whether they would ever become
+Americans, according to his
+ideas of Americans, a people in which
+he had great pride and delight; and
+he shook his head doubtfully as he took
+them in.
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly a small boy darted out of
+a car; an exceedingly small boy, thin to
+emaciation, who made his way through
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span>
+the crowd with that sprawling, active,
+dancing manner peculiar to thin small
+boys and spiders.
+</p>
+<p>Jim half laughed at the little chap
+until he saw his face; then he realized
+at a glance that the matter was no
+laughing one for the boy.
+</p>
+<p>At the same time he saw the shocking
+thinness of the little face, made into a
+wolf&#8217;s face by hunger; the mingled
+horror and desperation of the eyes; the
+big man would not have believed a
+child&#8217;s face could express emotions of
+such magnitude. He was wonder-stricken
+at the sight, and felt an instinctive
+sympathy for the fugitive.
+</p>
+<p>It is a strange thing how fortune will
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span>
+sometimes guide with certainty, when
+reason shows no path.
+</p>
+<p>The boy came unerringly toward
+Jim; Jim had a sort of prophetic insight
+that he would. Back behind him
+the urchin ran. &#8220;Don&#8217;t cher give me
+away, Mister!&#8221; he pleaded. Jim
+flapped a hand in answer.
+</p>
+<p>At the time he was leaning against
+a corner of the station; a little back of
+him was a small lean-to shed where
+various truck was stored.
+</p>
+<p>Out of the car came a burly brute of
+a man, who stared about him rapidly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat&#8217;s der ol&#8217; man,&#8221; whispered the
+boy. &#8220;If he gits holt of me, there won&#8217;t
+be a hull bone left in me body.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span></p>
+<p>The man walked up to the conductor
+and spoke to him.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aggh!&#8221; said the boy. &#8220;Now dey&#8217;ll
+get me sure&mdash;der jig is up&mdash;dey&#8217;ll have
+der hull gang ertop o&#8217; me!&#8221; the voice
+trailed off into a strangled sob, and
+then continued in a fierce whisper:
+&#8220;Aggh! If I had me growth, I&#8217;d show
+&#8217;em! I&#8217;d show &#8217;em!&#8221; and then a burst
+of hair-raising profanity.
+</p>
+<p>The argument was growing loud between
+the man, who was urging something,
+and the conductor, who was declining;
+others were walking toward
+the moderate excitement.
+</p>
+<p>Jim wheeled and caught the boy in
+his arms. &#8220;Up you go!&#8221; he said, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span>
+tossed him on top of the shed. &#8220;Lie
+low behind the wood there, and you are
+all right.&#8221;
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-026.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then came the conductor&#8217;s voice:
+&#8220;Say, my friend, if you think I&#8217;m going
+to hold my train while you hunt up a
+lost kid, there&#8217;s something in you that
+don&#8217;t work right! Why didn&#8217;t you take
+care of him while you had him? Now
+you&#8217;ve got just four minutes by the
+watch; either hustle around and hunt,
+or drop off the train and hunt&mdash;what&#8217;s
+that? Now don&#8217;t you give me any
+slack, you black-muzzled tarrier, or
+I&#8217;ll have the fear of God thrown into
+you too quick. Get out of here now!
+Get out of my way!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span></p>
+<p>The man slouched off, and made a
+hasty search around the station. A
+woman&#8217;s face&mdash;scarcely an improvement
+on the man&#8217;s&mdash;leaned out of the
+car window and jeered at the hunter,
+who cursed her back savagely.
+</p>
+<p>The man walked up to Jim. &#8220;Say,
+did yer see a kid go by here, Mister?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>With a shrug of his shoulders, Jim
+asked him that question in Mr. Ollendorf&#8217;s
+French method, about the pink-and-green
+overcoat of the shoemaker&#8217;s
+wife&#8217;s sister.
+</p>
+<p>The man showered low abuse on
+what he supposed was a foreigner, until
+Jim&#8217;s ribs rose with the desire to kill
+him.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Ayr, wot are yer wastin&#8217; time wid
+th&#8217; Dago fur?&#8221; called the woman.
+&#8220;Th&#8217; kid&#8217;s on the roof!&#8221; Jim&#8217;s heart
+almost stopped, so thoroughly had he
+identified himself with this quarrel.
+He made up his mind to fight for the
+boy, right or wrong.
+</p>
+<p>But he was saved the trouble. It was
+only a jest of the woman&#8217;s, for she suddenly
+called, so earnestly that even Jim
+was fooled. &#8220;No he ain&#8217;t neither; I
+see him! I see him! There he is.&#8221; It
+was the perfection of acting, voice and
+gesture.
+</p>
+<p>The man ran out to see where she was
+pointing. &#8220;Where is he?&#8221; he asked,
+looking wildly around.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;On top der flag-pole, like er monkey!
+You&#8217;re it!&#8221; she cried, with a
+shriek of laughter at the black brows of
+her dupe.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll show yer der joke, when I git
+in dere!&#8221; he threatened.
+</p>
+<p>The woman leaned her chin on her
+hands and smiled. Jim never forgot
+the utter undauntedness, impudence
+and malice of that face. &#8220;Yer allus
+goin&#8217; to do sumpin&#8217;, Pete!&#8221; she retorted.
+&#8220;Yer&#8217;ll be a man yet.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>A more amiable man than &#8220;Pete&#8221;
+might have been provoked by such conduct.
+He strode forward with white-knuckled
+fists and a very unpleasant
+expression on his face. Several men
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span>
+started to interfere, but it wasn&#8217;t necessary.
+</p>
+<p>The woman quietly looked at her
+bully, chewing a straw with the utmost
+nonchalance. &#8220;Give us a kiss,&#8221; said she.
+The man&#8217;s crest dropped. He said
+something in an undertone, and got on
+the car.
+</p>
+<p>Jim needed no further knowledge of
+this delightful couple to be thoroughly
+on the boy&#8217;s side. It seemed to him that
+the man was quite capable of keeping
+a small animal at hand, for the fun of
+torturing it, and as for the woman&mdash;well,
+if there was her like in hell, Jim
+determined to be good for the rest of
+his days.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;All aboard!&#8221; cried the conductor,
+and with a few mighty breaths the iron
+giant whisked its load out in the open
+again.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stay where you are, son, till I see
+whether that fellow is playing a trick,&#8221;
+said Jim, and not until he had looked
+under the platform, up and down the
+track, and in the waiting rooms, did he
+give the command, &#8220;Come down!&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span>
+<h2>II</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>The passenger agent saw the performance
+with astonishment.
+&#8220;So you had the boy tucked away all
+the time?&#8221; said he. &#8220;Just what kind of
+a game is this?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dunno,&#8221; returned Jim. &#8220;Let the
+boy speak for himself. Now, young
+man, what&#8217;s the matter?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The urchin stood before them, taking
+them in thoroughly with his sharp
+little eyes. More big men strolled up.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span>
+As a particularly fine foil to the boy&#8217;s
+diminutive form, Benny, the baggage
+smasher, whose overhanging shoulders
+testified whence came the power that
+had reduced many a proud Saratoga to
+elemental conditions, and &#8220;Happy
+Jack,&#8221; the mammoth, soot-black, loose-jointed
+negro porter, placed themselves
+on either side of him. They
+made the boy look more like an insect
+than ever.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wot&#8217;s de matter?&#8221; he cried in a
+voice at once hoarse and shrill, with a
+cursing note in it, and accompanying
+the words with an extravagant, dramatic
+gesture of his skinny claw. &#8220;I&#8217;ll
+tell yer wot&#8217;s der matter&mdash;dey beat me&mdash;dey
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span>
+beat me bad. I don&#8217;t ast youse
+to take me word fur it&mdash;look at me
+back&mdash;dat&#8217;s all I ast yer&mdash;jes&#8217; look at
+dat!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He ripped the shirt from his shoulders.
+An angry growl went up from
+all those big-bearded men when they
+saw the horrible stripes and welts&mdash;raw,
+blue and swollen&mdash;on the poor
+little back.
+</p>
+<p>Happy Jack threw up both his
+gorilla arms. &#8220;Lord Jesus! Who done
+you like dat, boy?&#8221; he cried. &#8220;&#8217;F I got
+m&#8217; hookers on him, cuss me &#8217;f I wudden&#8217;
+put bumps on him bigger&#8217;n yer
+hull body.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now yer talkin&#8217;,&#8221; shrieked the boy.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span>
+He raised himself to the tips of his toes,
+bared his teeth to the gum, and with
+clutching talons, gripping at the air,
+yelled: &#8220;Aggh! If I had me growth!
+I&#8217;d bite his heart out! I&#8217;d tear his neck
+for &#8217;im!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The men looked astounded on this
+mighty fury, pent in so small and miserable
+a cage. The voice had a peculiar
+alarming call to it, like the note
+of a fire-gong.
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly the boy&#8217;s head dropped on
+the crook of his arm. &#8220;Treated me
+wuss&#8217;n a dog,&#8221; he sobbed out. &#8220;Done
+me so it makes even dat nigger holler
+when he sees it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Happy Jack was taken aback. The
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span>
+other men smoothed down their faces
+forcibly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, lil&#8217; boy, you think dat&#8217;s a p&#8217;lite
+way to talk to people?&#8221; inquired Jack.
+</p>
+<p>The boy wiped his eyes on his sleeve
+and went over to him. &#8220;Say, don&#8217;t yer
+holt nothin&#8217; ag&#8217;in me fur der word,&#8221;
+said he. &#8220;Dey&#8217;ve got me looney&mdash;dat&#8217;s
+wot&mdash;yer&#8217;ve used me liker fren&#8217;; and
+if it hoits yer, yer can kick me pants fur
+me, and I won&#8217;t say nuthin&#8217;.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, there&#8217;s two-pound-and-a-half
+of dead game sport for you, all right!&#8221;
+cried Benny. &#8220;Good eye, kid!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Happy Jack smiled a mollified smile
+eight inches wide. &#8220;You is all right,
+beau,&#8221; said he. &#8220;An&#8217; as fur as my bein&#8217;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span>
+a nigger&#8217;s concerned, I&#8217;ll admit my
+kerplection ain&#8217;t light.&#8221; He slapped
+his ham and brought down a foot on
+the platform. &#8220;Hyah, hyah!&#8221; he
+roared, &#8220;you bet dere ain&#8217;t no dam&#8217;
+blond &#8217;bout me!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The infectious darky laugh started
+the others off, and brought matters to a
+common-sense footing.
+</p>
+<p>The passenger agent took up the interrogation.
+Was the man the boy&#8217;s
+real father? Answer: &#8220;How&#8217;d I know?
+Dat&#8217;s der song he guv me.&#8221; Were
+there any relatives? Friends? Answer:
+&#8220;Naw!&#8221; Well, what did the boy propose
+to do? Answer, digging his toes
+into the boards: &#8220;Didn&#8217;t know&mdash;anyt&#8217;ing!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span>
+What was his name? &#8220;Jim.&#8221;
+Jim what? &#8220;Didn&#8217;t know. Sometimes
+der gun callt himself &#8216;Darragh,&#8217; an&#8217;
+sometimes &#8216;Mullen,&#8217; an&#8217; sometimes
+&#8216;Smit.&#8217; Aggh! He callt himself the
+foist t&#8217;ing dat come to his tongue&mdash;he
+didn&#8217;t have no real name.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The agent talked to him a bit more,
+winding up by saying kindly: &#8220;You&#8217;ve
+had a pretty rough time of it, Jimmy,
+and we&#8217;d all like to give you a lift&mdash;now,
+just say what you&#8217;d like to do,
+and maybe we can fix it.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d like to go along wid dat feller,
+&#8217;f he&#8217;ll take me,&#8221; replied the boy, tossing
+a thumb toward Jim Felton. There
+was a becoming access of shyness in his
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span>
+manner; moreover, Felton had an increased
+interest in him when he knew
+they bore the same name&mdash;a sort of
+kinship, as it were.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, it&#8217;s up to you, Mister&mdash;&#8221; said
+the passenger agent, with a smile.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Felton,&#8221; said Jim. &#8220;I&#8217;m in. I&#8217;ll
+take the boy. Hard rustling down my
+way, but I guess we can make out somehow.
+Sure you want to go, kid?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessir!&#8221; very heartily.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Done, then!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Happy Jack snatched off his uniform
+cap, spat on a bill, and flapped it into
+the bottom thereof.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Good-by, fren&#8217;!&#8221; said he. He shook
+the cap in front of the others. &#8220;Here&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span>
+fur the lil&#8217; rooster; step up to the capen&#8217;s
+office an&#8217; settle, gents!&#8221; he called.
+&#8220;&#8217;Member what de Bible says, &#8216;Fool
+an&#8217; his money soon parted.&#8217; Come up!
+Come up!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They came up generously.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Stick a five in there for me, Bill,&#8221;
+said Benny to the passenger agent,
+&#8220;I&#8217;m strapped.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;How much you got, boy?&#8221; asked
+the agent, as Happy counted the
+money.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fo&#8217;ty dollars, even money, Misto&#8217;
+Breckenridge.&#8221; The agent was a bachelor
+with a fat salary. &#8220;Here, that
+makes it fifty,&#8221; said he. He turned to
+Felton. &#8220;Now, what do you say if we
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span>
+go across the street and&mdash;er&mdash;discuss
+this matter a little further?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Go you,&#8221; replied Felton.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Now, Jimmy, you sit here for a moment.
+We&#8217;re going on some business.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The boy glanced at them sharply.
+&#8220;Youse fellers is goin&#8217; to get a drink,&#8221;
+said he.
+</p>
+<p>Those big men put their hands on
+their sides and roared.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ll find that kid worse than a
+wife, Felton!&#8221; said the agent.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No use of our being hypocrites to
+the little chap. I reckon he&#8217;s seen
+worse things than the inside of a saloon.
+Come along, laddybuck.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They lined up and partook. The
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span>
+agent told the story of the waif. &#8220;And
+we started him off with fifty, Mac,&#8221; he
+said to the saloon-keeper. &#8220;Suppose
+you break away from some of your ill-gotten
+gains in the good cause.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The saloon-keeper opened his cash
+drawer without words and slid over a
+five-dollar bill. He seemed very glad
+to part with it.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Confound it! Now we&#8217;re upsticks
+again,&#8221; said the agent. &#8220;Tell you what
+let&#8217;s do. Here&#8217;s ten of us. Each man
+put up a two, and we&#8217;ll shake the dice
+to see who gives it to the kid&mdash;winner
+to set &#8217;em up. That&#8217;ll make seventy-five&mdash;a
+very respectable figure.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They played a new interesting dice-game,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span>
+in which the figure of a pig
+drawn in chalk upon the bar furnished
+the &#8220;lay-out.&#8221; It is a game which increases
+in interest to the last throw.
+They stuck the saloon-keeper, and were
+gleeful.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We ought to name the boy,&#8221; said
+Felton, under the inspiration of the second
+refreshment. &#8220;My name&#8217;s Jim,
+and I want something else to call him
+by. I&#8217;ll make him a present of my last
+name.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gad, that&#8217;s so!&#8221; replied the agent.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Call him Chescheela Jim,&#8221; put in a
+cow-man. &#8220;That&#8217;s Injun for &#8216;little
+Jim.&#8217; &#8216;Ches&#8217; ain&#8217;t a bad nickname.&#8221;
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-044.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Mac, hand over one of those toy
+sample bottles of California fizz,&#8221; said
+the agent. &#8220;We&#8217;ll put this craft down
+the ways in shape.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Felton broke the neck off the bottle
+with a tack-hammer and poured the
+wine on the boy&#8217;s head. &#8220;I christen
+thee Chescheela James Felton&mdash;may
+you become a good seaworthy craft,
+and not fill your skin with this stuff
+when you grow up,&#8221; said he dramatically.
+</p>
+<p>The small boy squinted up his eyes
+to keep the wine out; then he shook the
+liquid from his hair, looked up and
+grinned.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Youse fellers is reg&#8217;lar kids,&#8221; said
+he.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord, that&#8217;s a great boy!&#8221; said the
+agent. &#8220;He&#8217;s the oldest man in the
+crowd. Say, let&#8217;s give him a white
+man&#8217;s start, beginning with a bath.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The whole party went to the barbershop
+and made the darky proprietor
+dispense a bath and a hair-cut for nothing.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shave, sir?&#8221; asked the latter, when
+the hair had been properly trimmed.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No,&#8221; replied the youth. &#8220;I t&#8217;ink
+I&#8217;ll let me whiskers grow. Dere&#8217;s enuff
+wind in dis country ter keep der moths
+outen &#8217;em.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Then they raided the clothing store,
+and abused the Hebrew owner until he
+reduced the price. &#8220;Oof der
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span>
+lodt&mdash;everyding, shennelmun! Sigsdy ber
+zent. Dere&#8217;s no broffit left&mdash;it doaned
+bay fur the freight.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Look here, Sol! Will you swear
+that on a piece of pork?&#8221; demanded the
+agent. The Hebrew moaned.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Doaned dalk to me!&#8221; he cried. &#8220;My
+heardt iss prooken!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Clean, trimmed and clothed, Chescheela
+James Felton was a different
+looking boy. Months only could take
+those animal lines out of his face, and
+fresh air and wholesome food fill out
+the hollows of the cheeks, but, all in
+all, he was not a bad-looking youngster.
+</p>
+<p>Jim Felton bought some supplies for
+his camp, and prepared to start for
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span>
+home that afternoon, as they could yet
+make fifteen miles before dark.
+</p>
+<p>The new friends of the morning saw
+them off with hearty good-bys. The
+boy quite unexpectedly thanked them
+for their treatment and the money. The
+poor little soul had heard few words of
+gratitude, and had less chance to employ
+them.
+</p>
+<p>His speech was curious, but the generous
+big men saw behind the words,
+and felt really touched by the old-child&#8217;s
+attempt to express himself.
+</p>
+<p>The two Jims soon pushed on,
+through the rolling foot-hills near the
+town, into the broken country. The
+boy kept watching, watching, but said
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span>
+little, until at last they came to the stupendous
+cliffs of Paha-Sahpedon, overhanging
+the trail with dark majesty.
+Jim happened to glance at the boy, and
+saw him looking up, mouth and eyes
+wide open.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, Mister!&#8221; gasped Ches. &#8220;Who
+built them!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Built?&#8221; repeated Jim, puzzled.
+Then he understood. &#8220;The hand of
+God, my boy,&#8221; he replied.
+</p>
+<p>The urchin shivered. &#8220;I feel&#8217;s if
+dey was comin&#8217; ertop o&#8217; me,&#8221; he gasped.
+&#8220;Let&#8217;s hook it outer here.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim spanked the burro, and they flew
+out of the Paha-Sahpedon at a canter.
+</p>
+<p>They camped that night in the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span>
+spruces of Silver Creek, in one of the
+prettiest little places that ever lay out
+of doors. As they prepared the supper
+and ate it, sharing plate, cup and spoon,
+the boy was fairly ecstatic.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dis is der bulliest ol&#8217; time dat ever I
+had,&#8221; said he. &#8220;I didn&#8217;t know dere
+was places like dis &#8217;tall, &#8217;cept Cintral
+Park. Yer can run aroun&#8217; here all yer
+like, can&#8217;t yer, Mister? Nobuddy&#8217;ll
+stop yer?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not if you ran a thousand miles,
+Ches. This is the free land, boy. You
+can do what you like.&#8221; Jim spoke with
+warmth, for, although he felt that the
+child could not understand, yet the love
+of the country swelled in him so hot
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span>
+that he could never speak of it carelessly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat&#8217;s prutty damn good,&#8221; responded
+Ches.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It is,&#8221; replied Jim. &#8220;Now, Ches,
+will you do something to oblige me?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Sure!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, then, don&#8217;t swear. I don&#8217;t
+like to hear boys swear.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I won&#8217;t cuss another cuss, if I kin
+help it. Dey&#8217;ll come out too quick for
+me sometimes, but I&#8217;ll try to do dat,
+now.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you. Now, let&#8217;s get the stuff
+cleared up and roll in.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>In the middle of the night Jim heard
+a strange noise, a puzzling sound he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span>
+could not trace. Becoming wider
+awake, it resolved itself into a stifled
+weeping.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hello there, Ches! What&#8217;s the matter?&#8221;
+he cried.
+</p>
+<p>The boy flung himself into Jim&#8217;s
+arms with a cry. &#8220;Ar, I&#8217;m scart to
+deat&#8217;,&#8221; said he. &#8220;Take holt uf me, Mister!
+Take holt uf me! Dere ain&#8217;t anyt&#8217;ing
+but you and me here &#8217;tall!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim gathered up the trembling
+figure. &#8220;Nothing will hurt you, Ches,&#8221;
+he said. &#8220;You&#8217;re safe here.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wasn&#8217;t t&#8217;inkin&#8217; of gettin&#8217; hurted,&#8221;
+retorted the boy, with shaky indignation.
+&#8220;Did youse t&#8217;ink I&#8217;d weaken fur
+dat? Yer don&#8217;t know me, den. Dat
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span>
+ain&#8217;t bodderin&#8217; me&mdash;I&#8217;ve been hurted
+plenty. I&#8217;m just scart, dat&#8217;s wat&#8217;s der
+matter.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, now, you cuddle right up in
+my arms, like a little puppy dog, and
+you&#8217;ll feel all right.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, you&#8217;re prutty good stuff, Mister
+Felton,&#8221; whimpered the little voice.
+&#8220;Dis is der bulliest time I ever had,
+even if I am scart.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I think you&#8217;re a brave boy, Ches.
+Now go to sleep.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>A small hand reached timidly
+around until it found the man&#8217;s and
+gave it an affectionate squeeze. &#8220;Good
+night, sir,&#8221; said Ches.
+</p>
+<p>Jim lay awake, thinking dreamily,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span>
+long after the boy&#8217;s regular breathing
+showed that he was at peace again.
+The man felt a tenderness for the waif
+so abruptly put in his care that only a
+lonely man can feel. He speculated
+about the boy&#8217;s future; he wondered
+what kind of a man he would make.
+Surely, with a foundation of such courage,
+the better part could be brought
+out.
+</p>
+<p>Then he wondered what Anne
+would say to the adoption, or rather
+what advice she would give, for he felt
+entirely sure of her broad humanity,
+outside of their one difference. He felt
+the need of her practical sense. Soon he
+had drifted into thinking of Anne entirely.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span>
+Not bitterly now, but with a
+steady longing. The gray light of the
+waning moon, sifting through the
+boughs, was the true lumina for reverie.
+Why had he not answered her letter?
+Perhaps by this time&mdash;
+</p>
+<p>What was that moving in the grass?
+He had noticed a sort of something
+before. He threw up his right hand in
+a threatening gesture, to frighten the
+intruder away.
+</p>
+<p>Instantly he got his answer, and an
+icy wind seemed to ruff his hair&mdash;that
+insistent, dry, shrilling sound that will
+make a man&#8217;s blood turn cold if anything
+will&mdash;the whirring defiance of a
+rattlesnake!
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span></p>
+<p>Jim thought quick and hard, with
+chills and fever coursing over him <i>ad
+libitum</i>. He did not want to waken
+and frighten the boy. He managed to
+slip his arm out without disturbing the
+sleeper. But now! There wasn&#8217;t a
+club around except the short sticks of
+the fire. A two-foot stick is not the
+proper equipment for rattler hunting,
+except to those born with nerves so
+strong that they do not hesitate to catch
+Mr. Crotalus by the tail and snap his
+head off.
+</p>
+<p>Jim thought of the rope he had used
+for a cinch, and made for it with his
+eye on the snake, lest the latter should
+approach closer to the boy.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span></p>
+<p>With a deep thankfulness for the
+heft of the rope, he returned and struck
+with all the strength of his big body,
+and pounded away in a sort of crazy
+rage, although the first stroke had done
+the business.
+</p>
+<p>He snapped the sweat from his brow
+as he looked down at the still writhing
+reptile.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;My God! What might have happened
+if the boy hadn&#8217;t waked me?&#8221; he
+thought. The superstition of the miner
+rose in him rampant. &#8220;I believe that
+kid&#8217;s going to bring me good luck,&#8221; he
+said. &#8220;Darned if I don&#8217;t. Well, I
+could stand some.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He took up the body of the rattler
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span>
+on a stick and heaved it far away, then
+lit his pipe.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t think I care for any more
+sleep to-night,&#8221; he laughed. &#8220;Like
+Ches, it ain&#8217;t that anything will hurt
+me out here, but I&#8217;m everlastingly
+scared.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He watched the night out, revelling
+in his enjoyment of the mystery of the
+coming morning, that phase of the day
+which never ceases to be unreal, and
+which calls out of the watcher sentiments
+and emotions he is a stranger to
+for the rest of the day.
+</p>
+<p>The sun hung on the sharp point
+of Old Dog-Tooth like a portent, before
+he woke the boy.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span></p>
+<p>Ches was all amazement for a second;
+then he gave a glad cry.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Gee! Yer still here, ain&#8217;t yer? No
+pipe in dis.&#8221; He looked all around
+him. &#8220;Say! Dis is a reg&#8217;lar teeayter
+uf er place, ain&#8217;t it?&#8221; he remarked.
+&#8220;Dis is der scene where der villun almost
+gits der gent wid der sword, if der
+stage mannecher didn&#8217;t send sumun
+ter help &#8217;im out.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim laughed at the sophisticated infant.
+&#8220;You don&#8217;t believe in the theater
+much, then, Ches?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Aggh!&#8221; replied Ches. &#8220;If it ain&#8217;t
+seven it&#8217;s &#8217;leven on der stage&mdash;but it&#8217;s
+mostly craps in der street.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, son, there are such points on
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span>
+the dice,&#8221; admitted Jim. &#8220;But let&#8217;s
+have something to eat and we&#8217;ll feel
+better.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Ches rustled around after sticks in
+his funny, angularly active style, singing
+a song the while from the gladness
+of his heart. It was a merry song, about
+mother slowly going down the hectic
+path of phthisis pulmonalis, and sister,
+who has&mdash;one is led to believe&mdash;taken
+to small bottles, small hours and undesirable
+companions, refusing to come
+home and lift the mortgage which is
+shortly to be foreclosed&mdash;all in the narrow
+confines of twenty-five verses.
+</p>
+<p>Jim listened to the inspiriting ditty
+in astonishment.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin: 0 auto 0 ; '><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;&#8216;Bird of the wilderness, blithesome and cumberless,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>Sweet be thy matin o&#8217;er moorland and lea!&#8217;&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>he quoted. &#8220;For Heaven&#8217;s sake, child,&#8221;
+he continued, in some irritation,
+&#8220;where did you learn that echo of the
+morgue?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t you like &#8217;er?&#8221; asked Ches, in
+his turn astonished at such a lack of
+taste. &#8220;W&#8217;y, dat&#8217;s er gig in der city&mdash;everybuddy
+an&#8217; der ginnies wid der organs
+is givin&#8217; dat out all day long.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, let &#8217;em,&#8221; commanded Jim.
+&#8220;Don&#8217;t introduce it to this part of the
+country. As you render it, through the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span>
+nose, and with the wail at the end, it is
+a thing to make a strong man lie down
+and give up the ghost in sheer disgust.
+Ches, does it really make you feel good
+to sing it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessir&mdash;kinder,&#8221; replied Ches hesitatingly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord!&#8221; thought Jim. &#8220;What a life,
+to make a song like that a recreation!&#8221;
+Then aloud: &#8220;It&#8217;s bad luck to sing before
+breakfast, Ches. I&#8217;ll teach you a
+livelier song than that when we hit the
+trail again.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>So it came to pass that during the
+first miles of their day&#8217;s journey the
+way was enlivened by the notes of <i>The
+Arkansas Traveler</i>, <i>Garry Owen</i>,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span>
+<i>Where&#8217;s My Linda-Cinda Gone?</i>,
+<i>Baltimore Girls</i>, and other songs of a
+lively character.
+</p>
+<p>Ches approved of these in moderation.
+Then Jim tried an experiment.
+With a serious face, but half an eye on
+the boy, he howled, moaned and grunted
+<i>The Cow-boy&#8217;s Lament</i>, which
+still presents the insoluble problem of
+whether the words or the music are
+drearier. &#8220;OooooOOO!!! Pla-a-ay
+your fifes l-o-o-w-l-y, a-a-nd beee-eat
+your drums sl-o-o-o-wly, and play the
+dead m-a-arch as you carry me o-o-o-on!&#8221;
+mourned Jim. Ches was all attention.
+&#8220;For I&#8217;m o-o-o-nly a p-o-o-o-r
+cow-boy, and I know I&#8217;ve done
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span>
+w-r-o-o-o-o-o-ng!&#8221; wailed the singer, in conclusion.
+&#8220;How&#8217;d you like that, Ches?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, dat&#8217;s a ringer!&#8221; cried the boy
+enthusiastically.
+</p>
+<p>Jim sat him down by the roadside
+and laughed his fill. &#8220;I think you&#8217;re
+hopeless,&#8221; he gasped.
+</p>
+<p>The boy was hurt in a way he could
+not understand. Something pained
+him&mdash;a new sensation, of not being up
+to the requirements of another&#8217;s view.
+His forced acute intelligence made a
+bull&#8217;s-eye shot.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;P&#8216;r&#8217;aps w&#8217;en I&#8217;ve got er chist and
+t&#8217;umpers on me like you, I&#8217;ll like der
+udder kin&#8217; er song,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>Jim looked at the pathetic little figure
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span>
+on the burro, and his conscience
+smote him. &#8220;That&#8217;s right, boy,&#8221; he replied
+very kindly. &#8220;I was only joking&mdash;ought
+not to be any ill feeling between
+friends over a joke, you know.
+Now, you sing ahead all you plenty
+please.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t say nuttin&#8217; more about it,&#8221; replied
+Ches. &#8220;It&#8217;s all square.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>A little farther on Jim noticed a
+piece of quartz outcrop with a metal
+stain on it. Now, a miner can no more
+pass such a thing than some others
+could refuse to pick up the pin shining
+at their feet, so he took a stone and
+hammered off a specimen for future
+reference. In the meantime Ches, on
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span>
+the burro, got around the turn of the
+trail.
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly the boy set up a shout of
+excitement. &#8220;Oh, Mister!&#8221; he yelled,
+with a string of profanity, his promise
+forgotten in his heat. &#8220;Come quick,
+an&#8217; look at der cat! Come quick, quick,
+quick! What a cat! You never see
+sich a cat!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim dashed forward. &#8220;Well, I
+should say cat!&#8221; he remarked, as he
+took in the situation. On a ledge about
+fifty feet above the road crouched a
+full-grown mountain lion, ears back,
+eyes furtively glimpsing every avenue
+of escape, yaggering at the intruders
+savagely.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span></p>
+<p>The small boy in Jim Felton rose on
+the instant. &#8220;Pelt him, Ches! Pelt
+him!&#8221; he cried, and let fly the rock in
+his hand by way of illustration. A wild
+animal seems to have little idea of a
+missile.
+</p>
+<p>The lion held his ground and let
+the stone strike him in the side.
+Then, with a screech like the vital
+principle of forty thousand tom-cat
+fights&mdash;a screech that left a sediment in
+the ear-drums of the listeners for the
+balance of the morning&mdash;he fairly flew
+up the straight side of the cliff, followed
+by a rain of projectiles.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ches, we oughtn&#8217;t to have done
+that,&#8221; said Jim soberly. &#8220;If that fellow
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span>
+had been of another mind, he&#8217;d have
+made this the warmest day of our
+lives.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;W&#8217;y! Will dey fight?&#8221; asked Ches,
+his eyes wide open.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They will that, son, sometimes,&#8221; replied
+Jim. Then he launched into the
+tales of wild beast hunts, drifted from
+that to the romance of the gold field,
+the riches coming in a day&mdash;the whole
+glamour of it.
+</p>
+<p>Never did narrator have more attentive
+listener. There was a sort of
+white joy in the boy&#8217;s face.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, ain&#8217;t I glad to git in dis!&#8221; he
+cried. &#8220;Here&#8217;s just wot I been lookin&#8217;
+fur.&#8221; Suddenly he struck Jim on the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span>
+shoulder with a tightly clenched fist.
+&#8220;I made fur youse der first t&#8217;ing&mdash;didn&#8217;t
+yer see me? I know me man all
+right. Der secont I put me peeps on
+yer I ses ter meself, &#8216;Dat feller won&#8217;t
+t&#8217;row yer down, Chimmy&#8217;&mdash;ain&#8217;t I
+right, hey? Ain&#8217;t I right, Mister?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim patted him on the back. &#8220;I
+think you&#8217;re right, old man,&#8221; he said.
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll do anything I can for you.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yer don&#8217;t hafter tell me dat&mdash;I
+know it,&#8221; replied the boy. A sudden
+sob gathered in his throat and choked
+him. &#8220;Yer don&#8217;t know wot I been
+t&#8217;rough, Mister&mdash;it &#8217;ud laid out many
+er big stiff ten times me size. I&#8217;d&mdash;don&#8217;t
+youse laugh at me now, becus I&#8217;m only
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span>
+a kid&mdash;I&#8217;d give me heart&#8217;s blood fur
+youse, s&#8217; help me, I would, now!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Shake hands, pardner,&#8221; said Jim,
+his own voice a trifle hoarse. &#8220;We&#8217;ll
+do fine together&mdash;I know we will.&#8221;
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span>
+<h2>III</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>They crested the last sharp rise,
+and looked down upon the little
+cabin huddling in the spruces&mdash;an
+island of humanity in the beautiful sea
+of the wilderness.
+</p>
+<p>It seemed to Jim as if the small house
+brightened in appearance at the return
+of its soul; his heart in turn rose with
+a home feeling; his belief in the treasure
+which lay where the new channel
+cut across the old wash&mdash;that treasure
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span>
+which would make the world so different&mdash;came
+back to him like a renewed
+love. His hands ached for a grip on
+pick and shovel. His strong muscles
+twitched with eagerness to be at work
+again.
+</p>
+<p>Suddenly a ponderous and gross
+sound, out of all proportion to the size
+of its source, smashed the mountain
+silence into slivers. It was the burro&#8217;s
+greeting to his companions, and the
+echoes fluttered it from cliff to cliff
+until it faded into the merest tint.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Kerissmus! How many of dem is
+dere?&#8221; asked Ches, astonished at the
+demonstration. At that instant the herd
+welcomed the returned one.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span></p>
+<p>The cańon was full of brays; colliding,
+rising, falling and swelling in a
+tumult of noise against which the
+dreadful shouting of the gods at the
+fall of Troy would have seemed as the
+wail of a kitten.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, I don&#8217;t like dat!&#8221; said Ches.
+&#8220;What&#8217;s loose?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim had watched the growing astonishment
+of the boy&#8217;s face with suppressed
+emotion, but now he hugged
+himself and uproariously laughed his
+laugh out.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;That, Ches,&#8221; he replied, &#8220;is a matter
+of fifteen or twenty donkeys and an
+echo&mdash;did you think it was the end of
+the world?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I t&#8217;ought it was gittin&#8217; on well past
+der middle, all right,&#8221; retorted Ches.
+&#8220;What &#8217;ud yer expeck of a man dat
+never heerd der like before?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I knew what to expect. I never
+heard them either till I came out here.
+I was digging a hole up the side of that
+hill yonder, and had begun to feel that
+there was something behind me, and
+that it was almost time to go home,
+when old Jack, who has the voice of his
+family, poured out his soul about
+twenty rods away. I was half way
+home, Ches, before I got sand enough
+to go back and investigate. But now
+listen, and you&#8217;ll hear something prettier
+than that.&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span></p>
+<p>He put his fingers to his lips and
+whistled a bugle call.
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin: 0 auto 0 ; '><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;I can&#8217;t get &#8217;em up,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>I can&#8217;t get &#8217;em up,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>I can&#8217;t get &#8217;em up in the morning,&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>sounded Jim. And back came the
+pretty reveille in a fabric of music, indescribably
+interwoven; sharp and
+staccato from the neighboring walls;
+the lightest of whispers from the distance,
+turning and twisting upon itself
+and starting afresh when all seemed
+still.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, dat <i>is</i> prutty!&#8221; said Ches enthusiastically.
+&#8220;Hit her again!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Young man, you can come up here
+whenever you feel like it in the future,
+but as for now, I&#8217;m for home and
+grub.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Dat ain&#8217;t so bad, neither. Der animile&#8217;s
+jumped me up an&#8217; down till I
+cud hold more&#8217;n a man. Dis spook&#8217;s
+hang-out business won&#8217;t quit, will it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, sir; that&#8217;s a fixture. Hang on
+tight now, and I&#8217;ll race you to the cabin&mdash;one,
+two, three!&#8221; and away sprinted
+Jim down the hill trail, the burro lumbering
+after.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No fair! No fair!&#8221; yelled Ches.
+&#8220;Yer&#8217;ve got me skate doped! T&#8217;row
+us a tow!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim wheeled at the doorway and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span>
+took in the excited, happy little figure
+bumping on the burro&#8217;s back. For once
+in his life he had the satisfaction of an
+indisputable proof that he had done
+well. With a sudden access of affection
+he caught the boy in his arms and
+stood him on the ground. &#8220;Well, here&#8217;s
+our home, Ches,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>Home! The street Arab filled his
+puny chest, took a long, devouring look
+about him, and sought a definition of
+the word to make sound the lift of
+pride and hope that rose within him.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yer mean nobuddy kin chase us
+out of dis?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Nobody.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s our&#8217;n!&#8221; the boy went on with
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span>
+curious vehemence. &#8220;Like dis here,&#8221;
+snatching an old knife from his pocket
+and shaking it in his tight fist, &#8220;ter
+t&#8217;row away, ter sell, er ter keep, and nobuddy
+got nuttin&#8217; ter say about it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Just that, laddybuck. That and
+nothing else.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No more slinkin&#8217; an&#8217; snoopin&#8217;
+aroun&#8217; dodgin&#8217; der coppers; no more
+stallin&#8217; fer der push; no more dirt of no
+kind&mdash;say, I can&#8217;t git dat jus&#8217; in a minute.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He stood grappling with the new
+idea. In the search an old one came to
+the top. His face changed rapidly.
+The furtive, hunted look returned. In
+a tone, the odd quiet of which contrasted
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span>
+with the former heat, he spoke
+again. &#8220;Yer for <i>me</i>, now, ain&#8217;t yer,
+Jim? If&mdash;if der Gun should happen
+ter come here, yer wouldn&#8217;t t&#8217;row me
+down at dis stage of der game?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The big man answered him with an
+equal soberness. He thrust a hand before
+the boy&#8217;s eyes&mdash;a splendid hand,
+massive and corded at the base, running
+out to long, shapely, intelligent fingers,
+and every line in it spoke of power.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Do you see that hand, Ches?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yessir.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;If the &#8216;Gun&#8217; shows his face where
+that hand can get a grip on him, it will
+do the business for him in one squeeze,
+and if the hand can&#8217;t reach, there&#8217;s a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span>
+rifle inside that can. Now get that out
+of your mind once for all.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;&#8221; said the boy, &#8220;well&mdash;aw,
+I&#8217;ll be damned, dat&#8217;s all I kin say, Jim,&#8221;
+and rushed into the house.
+</p>
+<p>The miner leaned back and laughed,
+and blew his nose; and laughed again
+and blew his nose again; then he wiped
+the dust out of his eyes, swore a few
+words himself, and followed the boy
+within.
+</p>
+<p>The next day Jim started on his work
+in earnest. Before, he had sunk a hole
+here or there in the broad smooth surface
+of the bar of gravel that he felt
+certain hid his bonanza.
+</p>
+<p>Now, he determined to begin at
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span>
+the creek bank and drift straight across
+the bar. That meant six hundred feet
+of tunnel at the best, unless fortune was
+much kinder than she had hinted at before&mdash;quite
+an undertaking for one
+man, considering the timbering and all.
+</p>
+<p>It must have been a miner who
+wrote, that hope springs eternal in the
+human breast. Surely in no place other
+than the mines is the fact so manifest.
+There was once a man seventy-three
+years old who was sinking through a
+cap of cement two hundred feet thick.
+The stuff was just this side of powderwork,
+barely to be loosened with a
+pick. The old man had to climb down
+sixty feet of ladder, fill his bucket,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span>
+climb up again and dump it, and so
+on and so on and so on. Besides, he had
+to walk thirty miles and back again
+with his load, whenever he ran out of
+provisions. It had taken him a year to
+put his shaft down the sixty feet. There
+was one hundred and forty more to
+go, each foot getting harder, the
+Lord only knew what would be at
+the bottom when he got there; yet to
+sit in that old man&#8217;s cabin for an hour
+was to obtain a complete exposition of
+the theory and practice of optimism.
+It is an unbelievable story and would
+be senseless, were it not entirely true.
+</p>
+<p>Beside that effort, Jim&#8217;s task took on
+the tint of an avocation, but the man
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span>
+who runs six hundred feet of tunnel
+single-handed earns whatever may be
+at the end of it.
+</p>
+<p>The tunnel was the one thing that
+Ches abhorred in his new surroundings.
+Whether it was that it reminded him of
+the dingy holes of his city life, or
+whether it was a natural antipathy,
+Ches was one of those who can never
+enter a confined space without the sensation
+of smothering&mdash;at any rate,
+neither argument nor coaxing could
+get him to put a foot within its dark
+mouth.
+</p>
+<p>An old miner would have shared
+his feelings in this instance, for Jim, so
+thorough in some things, was a careless
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span>
+workman. Your old miner would have
+shaken his head at the weak caps and
+recklessly driven lagging; frames out
+of plumb and made of any stick that
+came to hand&mdash;more especially as they
+were to support loose dirt of the most
+treacherous sort.
+</p>
+<p>Ches worked outside, dumping the
+car that Jim had made of four tree sections
+for wheels, and sluice-box boards
+for sides. Jim, the ingenious, had
+rigged up a pulley system, whereby
+Ches could run the car out and in without
+interrupting the work on the face.
+</p>
+<p>It was hard labor for Ches at first,
+but he gritted his teeth and stuck it out
+manfully.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-084.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>&#8220;Bime-by,&#8221; he would say to himself,
+&#8220;I&#8217;ll have er muscle on me like Jim,
+an&#8217; den I&#8217;ll yank dis cussed ol&#8217; car
+right out in der middle of der crik,&#8221;
+and he examined the small bunch on
+his arm critically a dozen times every
+day.
+</p>
+<p>Meanwhile, his hero and idol was
+outdoing the human in his exertions.
+The effort he put forth would have
+killed an ordinary man. He fought the
+stubborn earth as though it were an enemy.
+Stripped to the waist, bent over in
+the low tunnel, hour after hour Jim
+plied the pick and shovel with the regularity
+and power of a machine. There
+was at once something fascinating and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span>
+heroic in the rippling glide of the muscles
+over his broad back, and in the
+supple swing that sent the pick to join
+the packed dirt.
+</p>
+<p>It all looked so easy. It was as if
+the dirt were very soft, and not the
+striker very strong. Nevertheless, fourteen
+hours a day of this, varied occasionally
+by cutting timbers and carrying
+them by hand to the tunnel&mdash;some
+of them a weight enough for a horse,
+others not adequate, &#8220;just as they came&#8221;
+being careless Jim&#8217;s motto&mdash;told even
+on his engines.
+</p>
+<p>They had a certain mark on the
+cańon side&mdash;a wild-cat&#8217;s hole it was&mdash;and
+when the sun threw the shadow of
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span>
+the western wall upon the mark, the
+day&#8217;s work was finished.
+</p>
+<p>Ches used to watch this with attention.
+&#8220;Yer move along all right till
+yer gits half way up, den yer jus&#8217;
+crawls, yer ol&#8217; beggar!&#8221; was his standing
+remark on the progress of the shadow.
+Still, he always gave good measurement.
+</p>
+<p>Toward the last of the month Jim
+grew an interest in their clock.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Where&#8217;s the blame thing now,
+Ches?&#8221; would come hollowly out of the
+tunnel.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Three more cars away, Jim,&mdash;jus&#8217;
+tippin&#8217; the white rock.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Then the cheery shout of &#8220;All over!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span>
+and the worker stepping out into the
+fresh air, soft and cool in the twilight,
+hooking the sweat from his forehead,
+and wishing that supper would cook itself.
+Sometimes the wild-cat looked
+down upon them from his eyrie.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ches,&#8221; said weary Jim, &#8220;if that lad
+thinks at all, he must think we&#8217;re awful
+fools.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He wouldn&#8217;t be so tur&#8217;ble off his
+guess, neider,&#8221; replied the equally
+weary Ches.
+</p>
+<p>After supper, however, the world
+seemed different. There was Jones&#8217;s
+Hill&mdash;(a man of large ideas, was Jones,
+to call that mass of rock a hill)&mdash;shining
+red-hot in the last light against a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span>
+topaz or turquoise sky, and the gulch
+that ran up to it in a mystery of dark
+green gloom offering up an evening
+prayer of indescribable odors&mdash;those
+appeals to a life in former spheres
+which no other sense remembers; the
+ceaseless roar of the wind in the pines,
+so steady that it formed a background
+for other sounds almost as good as silence
+itself; the evening pipe, and the
+talk of what had been done and what
+was to be done&mdash;all these made amends.
+</p>
+<p>And then the sleeping&mdash;such sleeping!
+And waking up in the morning in
+the exact attitude one went to sleep the
+night before! Sleep that washed out all
+the former day&#8217;s fatigue, and started
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span>
+them as eager as hounds for that of the
+new day. That is, within limits, for,
+when a man overworks as continually
+as Jim had done, no paradise sleep nor
+balsam air can turn him right perpetually.
+</p>
+<p>And for that reason the claim declared
+a holiday, consisting of a hunting
+trip. It was a curious hunting trip.
+Not one &#8220;bang!&#8221; went the clean and
+polished rifle. They stalked four deer,
+crawling on their bellies, quivering
+with the chase, rounding behind rocks.
+Then when the game was within range,
+up went the rifle, Jim squinted along
+the sights&mdash;then dropped it.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s der matter?&#8221; whispered
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span>
+Ches. He had been waiting for a long
+time to hear the gun go off.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;They seem to be having a pretty
+good time by themselves there, Ches.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes&mdash;dat&#8217;s so&mdash;but I&#8217;ve heard deer-meat
+was good.&#8221; Ches was disappointed
+at this manner of hunting.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;So it is,&#8221; replied Jim, &#8220;probably
+nobody has that notion stronger than
+the deer.&#8221; He followed the four pretty
+animals below them with tense eyes.
+He loved to hunt but he hated to kill.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;See here, boy,&#8221; he said, sitting down
+and pulling off his boots, &#8220;I think I can
+show you some fun&mdash;do you notice
+they&#8217;re feeding up to that nose of rock?
+Well I used to be rather quick on my
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span>
+feet once, and I think if I can slip down
+behind there without their winding me,
+if one gets close enough I can catch him
+with my hands&mdash;which is a trick I&#8217;d
+like muchly to accomplish. Now you
+sit here and watch, and for your life,
+don&#8217;t make a move or sound! By
+Jiminy! if I could do that!&#8221; He trotted
+light-footed down the slope out of
+sight.
+</p>
+<p>The boy soon saw him reappear behind
+the sharp rock-wall that jutted
+out into the valley, rubbing crushed
+pine-needles upon himself with the
+idea of overpowering the human odor,
+although, whether effective in its purpose
+or not, it was not necessary&mdash;a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span>
+strong up-wind from deer to man making
+it impossible that they could scent
+him.
+</p>
+<p>They waited and they waited, a big
+man crouched like a tiger below, and a
+highly excited small boy above, while
+the deer did every exasperating thing
+that animals could do.
+</p>
+<p>They started straight for the rock,
+grazing along, and then for no reason
+in the world beat back on their tracks,
+or turned to right or left. They even
+went so far as to lie down, chewing
+most contentedly.
+</p>
+<p>One hour went by&mdash;two&mdash;when suddenly
+the buck rose and walked straight
+up the cańon in a course that would
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span>
+take him within twenty feet of the rock.
+Jim heard him snort and prepared for
+action, laying hold of a corner of stone
+to get a spring from all-fours.
+</p>
+<p>The deer&#8217;s shadow floated black on
+the grass before him, and Jim leaped&mdash;to
+the biggest surprise of his life, for
+instead of making the least effort to escape,
+the buck charged, and that with
+such sudden fury it was all the man
+could do to lay hold of him anywhere
+as they came to dirt together.
+</p>
+<p>The next ten seconds was delirium,
+each combatant doing something as
+quick as he could without any definite
+aim. Jim received a painful rake
+across the chest from the antlers, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span>
+a jab in the leg from the sharp hoofs,
+while the deer was the worse for several
+bangs over the head and an ear
+nearly pulled off, as they rolled over
+together.
+</p>
+<p>It came over Jim with the force of
+a revelation that he had got into a very
+different business from that which he
+had intended. Instead of the &#8220;timid
+deer&#8221; whose capture was the difficulty,
+he found himself engaged with a
+horned and hoofed demon, and the
+problem was how to get away.
+</p>
+<p>Meanwhile, Ches had legged it down
+the hill-side at his best speed, enthusiastically
+cheering what he supposed
+was a prearranged performance. Jim
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span>
+had promised him fun, and that whirling
+heap below supplied plenty of it.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hooray!&#8221; yelled Ches. &#8220;Hooray!
+Hold him dere, Jim, till I get down!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim heard the shrill voice, as he succeeded,
+after a desperate effort, in getting
+an arm around the deer&#8217;s neck, so
+that he could do something in the choking
+line, and he smiled grimly in the
+heat of battle. &#8220;All right, Ches!&#8221; he
+gasped. &#8220;Don&#8217;t&mdash;hurry!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Keep out of this!&#8221; he yelled a moment
+later as Ches burst out from the
+bushes. &#8220;You&#8217;ll get killed!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>But Ches was not to be denied. He
+danced around the pushing, tugging,
+straining storm-center, and the moment
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span>
+opportunity offered, slipped in and
+seized the buck by a hind leg.
+</p>
+<p>If he had touched an electric battery,
+the effect could not have been more instant.
+The deer fanned that muscular
+hind leg, with its boy attachment, at the
+rate of seven hundred strokes to the
+minute. Poor Ches&#8217; head was nearly
+snapped off his shoulders, and the
+breath was literally jerked out of his
+body, but he hung on, with all the
+strength that pulling the car had given
+him.
+</p>
+<p>It was not much help, but it was a
+diversion. Jim gulped a lungful of
+air, gathered his powers and came
+down with all his might. Slowly the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span>
+stubborn neck, bent&mdash;so slowly that Jim
+feared he would give out before gaining
+the mastery. As it yielded, his leverage
+increased, and at last, exerting
+every ounce of strength that was in
+him, he downed the foe and held him
+there, his leg over the front legs whose
+armament he had felt before, and was
+not desirous of feeling again.
+</p>
+<p>But the deer gave up the struggle,
+and lay quiet, looking up with great
+pleading eyes.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes, you devil!&#8221; cried Jim, &#8220;you
+look meek enough now, but if you
+weren&#8217;t a handful of hard luck ten seconds
+ago I never ran across one. You
+hurt, Ches?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;I got a lovely t&#8217;ump on me smeller,
+but I&#8217;m in it yet&mdash;do I let go or don&#8217;t
+I?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Not on your life&mdash;wait a moment!&#8221;
+He worked his weight over on the
+deer&#8217;s body. &#8220;Now!&#8221; he said. &#8220;Quick!
+Jump loose!&#8221; Again the deer glanced
+up reproachfully, as though to say,
+&#8220;How suspicious you are!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The instant Ches jumped clear, so
+did Jim. They watched their late antagonist,
+who sprang to his feet and
+went off with frisky leaps, apparently
+as fresh as ever.
+</p>
+<p>Then they looked at each other. Ches
+was rubbing his stomach with his left
+hand, while he wiped the blood from
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span>
+his nose with the right. Jim&#8217;s coat and
+trousers were torn; he had a deep
+scratch across his chest, a gouge in his
+leg, and he trembled from the exertion.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well&mdash;Ches!&#8221; he panted, &#8220;we&#8217;ve&mdash;had&mdash;a&mdash;nice&mdash;rest&mdash;haven&#8217;t
+we?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Wouldn&#8217;t it &#8216;a&#8217; been tur&#8217;ble if yer
+hadn&#8217;t caught him?&#8221; replied Ches.
+And then they simply whooped.
+</p>
+<p>A good incident is an opal among
+gems in a lonely life. You can turn it
+over and over and always get new colors.
+</p>
+<p>On the home trip, as Nimrod Jim
+stalked along with his follower trotting
+beside, they rehearsed every detail
+of the unexpected encounter. Jim
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span>
+crouched and leaped again, giving his
+sensations when the buck did likewise.
+Then he waited while Ches ran down
+a side hill and threw himself upon a
+sapling, which for the time was a deer&#8217;s
+hind leg.
+</p>
+<p>They were just of an age&mdash;any one
+would have said so, on seeing them approach
+the cabin, arms flying, tongues
+wagging, bruised, tired and happy.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Jim,&#8221; said a very sleepy little boy
+after supper, gorged like an anaconda,
+&#8220;yer don&#8217;t see t&#8217;ings like dat in N&#8217;york&mdash;not
+much yer don&#8217;t. If dat racket
+had come off in der Bowery, dere&#8217;d be
+head-lines&mdash;&#8217;dlines&mdash;on der extries&mdash;more&#8217;n
+a mile&mdash;&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span></p>
+<p>Jim picked him up and tucked him
+into his bunk. &#8220;More&#8217;n a mile long&mdash;g&#8217;
+nigh&#8217;,&#8221; sighed Ches.
+</p>
+<p>Jim lit his pipe and went out for an
+evening smoke. It was some little time
+the next morning before he could realize
+what he was doing out there under
+the tree.
+</p>
+<p>He had been in some ways a graver
+man of late. What he had undertaken
+as an experiment, a generous impulse,
+had been turned into a lasting responsibility.
+</p>
+<hr class='major' />
+<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'>
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span>
+<h2>IV</h2>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the second day after Ches&#8217; arrival,
+Bud had come through
+with the mail, and before leaving, drew
+Jim aside, out of the boy&#8217;s hearing.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The little feller&#8217;s yours agin all
+comers now, Jim,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s that?&#8221; asked Jim, surprised
+by the meaning in the tone.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s <i>yours</i>,&#8221; repeated Bud. &#8220;That
+sweet-scented blossom that called himself
+the boy&#8217;s dad, filled his skin with
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span>
+red-eye farther up the line and settled
+the fuss he had with his dame.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hurt her?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Man!&#8221; said Bud slowly, &#8220;he used
+a knife a foot long&mdash;gave it to her a
+dozen times as hard as he could drive&mdash;what&#8217;s
+your opinion?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Lord Almighty! Did he get away?
+But no, of course he couldn&#8217;t, being on
+the train&mdash;&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He didn&#8217;t get away. The Con.
+wired the news to Kimballs. What was
+he to do when a small army of punchers
+boarded the train and took the prisoner?
+He couldn&#8217;t do nothing, and he
+never loved that black-muzzled whelp
+from the time he sassed him in the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span>
+depot. The punchers took our friend
+out and tried him.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Tried him?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;With a rope. In three minutes by;
+the watch he was found wanting&mdash;your
+boy now, Jim, as I was telling you.
+Going to say anything to him about it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Why,&#8221; said Jim, bewildered, &#8220;why,
+I don&#8217;t know, Bud&mdash;guess not, just yet,
+on general principles. What do you
+think?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Think you&#8217;re right,&#8221; said Bud.
+&#8220;The poor little rooster couldn&#8217;t help
+but feel glad to hear the news, but it
+would sound kind of awful to hear a
+kid like that say he was glad two
+people were killed. Better wait till he&#8217;s
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span>
+been with you a while, Jim, and learned
+something different.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Jim flushed at the implied compliment.
+&#8220;You&#8217;re right, Bud, I will.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Great little papoose, ain&#8217;t he?&#8221;
+said Bud, turning in his saddle before
+his starting rush. &#8220;Makings of a man
+there, all right. The boys in town are
+dead stuck on him. I&#8217;ll have to give a
+complete history when I get back. I
+must get a gait on, or I&#8217;ll have Uncle
+Sammy on my neck again&mdash;inspector
+started out with me this morning.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The devil he did!&#8221; cried Jim indignantly,
+well knowing the hardships and
+dangers of the big rider&#8217;s route.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, it&#8217;s all right!&#8221; replied Bud with
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span>
+a wave of his hand. &#8220;Come out fine.
+When the lad first told me he&#8217;d been
+sent out to see why the mails was so late
+on this line, I told him I&#8217;d show him
+right on the spot, but he said there was
+no use getting hot about it, as he was
+only doing his duty, so I quieted down.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;He was a decent sort of feller. I
+thought to myself before we got under
+way, &#8216;Now, there won&#8217;t nothing happen
+this day&mdash;everything&#8217;ll go as
+smooth and slick as grease, and this
+feller will report that I&#8217;m sojering,&#8217;
+that&#8217;s the way it usually works, you
+know. But this time I played in luck.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two miles out of town we ran into
+a wild-eyed gang from somewhere,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span>
+who was going to make us dance. We
+didn&#8217;t dance, and I&#8217;ll say for that inspector
+that he stood by me like a man,
+but he was awful sick at his stomach
+later on from the excitement.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Next thing, the bridge was down at
+Squaw Creek, and we swum her. He&#8217;d
+have gone down the flume, if I hadn&#8217;t
+got hold of his bridle. &#8216;Nice mail route,
+this,&#8217; says he, as he got ashore. &#8216;Oh,
+you&#8217;d like it,&#8217; says I, &#8216;if you got used to
+it.&#8217; I&#8217;d begun to wonder what was next
+myself. Ain&#8217;t many people swimming
+Squaw Creek, as you perhaps know.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, next was about ten mile along,
+just before you come to the old Tin-cup
+Camp. We was passing the bluff there,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span>
+and all of a sudden, rip, thump, biff!
+Down comes what looked like the
+whole side a-top of us. It weren&#8217;t
+though. It was only a cinnamon had
+lost his balance, leaning over too far to
+see what we was. That bear landed
+right agin brother inspector&#8217;s horse,
+and brother inspector&#8217;s horse tried to
+climb a tree. Inspector himself fell
+a-top of the bear. I dassent shoot, for
+the devil himself couldn&#8217;t have told
+which was inspector and which bear.
+Finally bear shakes himself loose and
+telescopes himself up the cańon, the
+worst scared animile in the country.
+&#8216;If you&#8217;ll ketch my horse, I&#8217;ll amble
+back again,&#8217; says the inspector. &#8216;I&#8217;ve investigated
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span>
+this route pretty thorough,
+and find it&#8217;s just as you say. Lamp-posts&#8217;ll
+do me all right for a while.&#8217;
+Come out fine, didn&#8217;t it?
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whish there! Untie yourself, you
+yaller bone-heap!&#8221; And the mail was
+a quarter of a mile up the trail.
+</p>
+<p>Jim pondered the information concerning
+Ches carefully, only to adhere
+to his original determination. He
+could not see any way in which the boy
+would be benefited by hearing the news.
+Still, the miner hated anything that
+savored of concealment or deception.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I wish Anne was here to help me,&#8221;
+he thought; &#8220;she&#8217;d know what to do.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He sat long, looking down, his hands
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span>
+clasped about his knees, drinking with
+old Tantalus. But the reverie ended
+as it always did&mdash;in action. There was
+nothing for it but the claim. Success
+there meant success everywhere.
+</p>
+<p>It was the knowledge that Anne, the
+boy, and all he wished to do for both
+depended on the pay-streak which had
+urged him to such a fury of effort.
+</p>
+<p>His carelessness of his own life, that
+led him to slap his timbering up any
+way, was born of that same fury. And
+the consequences came like most consequences,
+without a moment&#8217;s warning.
+</p>
+<p>It was a still and beautiful noon.
+Ches had pulled out the last car before
+dinner, and started for the cabin.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span></p>
+<p>A curious groaning and snapping
+from the tunnel halted him. It was the
+giving of the tortured timbers. On the
+heels of that came a dull, crushing roar.
+A blast of dust shot from the tunnel-mouth,
+like smoke from a cannon, preceded
+by a shock that nearly threw the
+boy off his feet.
+</p>
+<p>Then all was still again. The sun
+shone as brilliantly as before, blazing
+down upon the ghastly face of a little
+boy, who, after one heart-broken cry of
+&#8220;Jim! Oh, Jim&#8217;s killed!&#8221; sank down
+upon the ground, chewing the fingers
+thrust in his mouth, that the pain might
+make the black wave keep its distance.
+</p>
+<p>For Ches knew that he was alone;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span>
+that there was no human being within
+miles to help the man caught in the
+hand of that mischance but himself, so
+frantically willing, but so impotent.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I must git me wits tergedder&mdash;I
+must!&#8221; and down came the teeth with
+all the strength of the boy&#8217;s jaw. &#8220;Oh,
+what will I do? What will I do?&#8221; The
+little head waved from side to side in
+its agony, and a sudden sob struck him
+in the throat.
+</p>
+<p>After that one small weakness rose
+Ches Felton, hero. To the mouth of the
+tunnel he went. Above the tumbled
+pile of dirt and timber ran a sort of
+passage, between it and the roof.
+</p>
+<p>A way along which a boy might
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span>
+crawl and find out if all the frames
+were down&mdash;to which the silence of the
+tunnel gave a bitter assent&mdash;or if
+by some most lucky chance one or
+two had held, and Jim be safe within.
+</p>
+<p>Ches climbed to the top and thrust
+his head into the gloom. &#8220;Jim!&#8221; he
+called, &#8220;Jim!&#8221; No answer.
+</p>
+<p>Before him lay the ruin of his pardner&#8217;s
+work. It was over this that his
+path lay, as deadly dangerous a path as
+could be found. The slightest disturbing
+of the roof above might bring down
+a thousand tons of dirt upon the one
+who ventured, slowly and hideously to
+crush his life out, there in the dark, beyond
+sight and sound of the cheerful
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span>
+world without. With this knowledge
+before him, and his inborn fear of the
+dark hole, as daunting as the hand of
+death itself, he took his soul in his
+gripe, and wormed his way within.
+</p>
+<p>Sometimes his back grazed a stone
+in the roof, and the touch of white-hot
+iron could not have been so terrible;
+sometimes a falling stone near him
+would make his heart leap and stop as
+he waited for the hill above to follow.
+Foot by foot he made it, twisting
+around the end of a post, scooping out
+the dirt most cautiously where the hole
+was too small for even his slight body.
+</p>
+<p>Once the sharp end of a broken piece
+of lagging caught in his clothes, and he
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span>
+could go neither forward nor back.
+There, for a second, he broke down.
+Bracing up again, he managed somehow
+to get the old knife out of his
+pocket and cut himself free.
+</p>
+<p>He could see little.
+</p>
+<p>A gray spectral light filtered in here
+and there that defined nothing, even
+when his eyes grew accustomed to the
+darkness.
+</p>
+<p>It was an endless journey. In places
+where the dirt closed in he would be
+a full minute progressing a foot, and a
+minute of such mortal terror as seldom
+falls to the lot of man of peace or soldier.
+</p>
+<p>But it ended.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span></p>
+<p>Suddenly the boy&#8217;s outstretched
+hand encountered only emptiness below.
+That frame had held. He dove
+into the space head first, and landed on
+something soft and warm&mdash;the body of
+his pardner.
+</p>
+<p>He had found him. In a paroxysm
+of joy, he flung himself upon the motionless
+figure and cried his heart out.
+This, too, he soon conquered. Jim had
+just so much show&mdash;any delay might
+wipe it out. He searched the man&#8217;s
+pockets until he found a match. By its
+light he saw the candle stuck into the
+post, and lit it. Then he knelt beside his
+pardner again.
+</p>
+<p>It was a curious picture within that
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span>
+gloomy chamber underground. The
+miner lying stark, stretched to his full
+great length, appearing enormous in
+the flickering candle-light, and the
+child, white-faced, big-eyed, but steady
+as a veteran, wiping the blood from the
+ragged cut in the man&#8217;s head.
+</p>
+<p>Ches realized what had happened
+the instant before the calamity. Jim,
+startled by the noise of the yielding timbers,
+had made a rush, only to be struck
+down by the rock, that now lay within
+an inch of him; yet struck into safety
+for all that. Had he gone a yard farther,
+the life would have been smashed
+out of him instantly.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-118.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>But now, what? The flowing blood
+sent a sickening chill through the boy.
+Had he done this much only to be able
+to see his pardner die? He drove his
+teeth into his hand again at the thought.
+What was that? Was it a trick of the
+tunnel, his heart sounding in his own
+ears, or a rhythmic beat from outside?
+Hollow and dull fell that &#8220;clatter-clum-clatter-clum.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bud!&#8221; screamed Ches, &#8220;T&#8217;ank God,
+dat&#8217;s Bud!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>After half a dozen efforts he climbed
+the dirt pile and went back through the
+treacherous holes. The rider came so
+fast! &#8220;Oh!&#8221; groaned the boy, &#8220;I&#8217;ll
+never make it! Bud&#8217;ll t&#8217;ink we&#8217;re off
+somewheres an&#8217; pull on!&mdash;<i>Bud</i>! BUD!&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span>
+he called at the top of his lungs;
+but the tunnel swallowed the little
+voice.
+</p>
+<p>Desperation made him entirely reckless.
+It was any way to get out before
+the mail-man was beyond call.
+Glairy with sweat, he pulled, tugged,
+squirmed and wriggled along, until a
+dirty, small bundle rolled down almost
+under the mail-rider&#8217;s feet.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Whoa!&#8221; shouted Bud with an astonished
+oath. &#8220;What&#8217;s the&mdash;why boy,
+what&#8217;s the matter? Damn it! how you
+scart me!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>One look at him froze the man; he
+said no more, but waited, watching the
+working face of the child, who was
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span>
+mastering himself once more, in order
+to tell a quick, straight story, that no
+time might be lost.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Der tunnel&#8217;s fell in, Bud; Jim&#8217;s in
+dere where der frame&#8217;s held. He&#8217;s livin&#8217;
+yet, but he&#8217;s got a tur&#8217;ble cut in his
+head.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The mail-rider drew out paper and
+tobacco, and rolled a cigarette. It was
+his method of biting his hand. He
+loved the man inside that dark blotch
+on the hill-side with an affection only
+known where men are few and strong.
+And because he loved him, Bud was
+going to keep his head cool and clear,
+to find the right thing to do and do it
+the right way.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span></p>
+<p>For all his calm outer man the
+mind within was whirling. He turned
+to the tense little face before him for
+help, and with an admiration that
+knew no bounds.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;How far back?&#8221; he asked.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;T&#8217;ree frames was held&mdash;dere was
+seven, ten foot apart&mdash;how much is
+dat?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Forty feet&mdash;ten foot apart! No
+wonder! Oh, Jim! How could you
+have been so careless?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The boy&#8217;s shoulders shook once. &#8220;He
+worked like er horse&mdash;now it&#8217;s all gone
+an&#8217; he&#8217;s in dere&mdash;&#8221; The face was contorted
+out of all humanity, but he held
+the tears back.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span></p>
+<p>Bud leaped from his horse. &#8220;Never
+you mind, Chessy lad!&#8221; he cried, hugging
+up the little figure, &#8220;we&#8217;ll get him
+out of that, by God!&mdash;Could we haul
+him out the way you went?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;No, dere ain&#8217;t room&mdash;an&#8217; if you
+touch dat roof hard&mdash;&#8221; he shuddered.
+</p>
+<p>Bud sucked in his breath. &#8220;If you
+weren&#8217;t the sandy little man to try it!&#8221;
+he said. He stood a moment in silence
+going over it all.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Ches,&#8221; he said, &#8220;there ain&#8217;t any
+time to lose. If Jim&#8217;s cut like that he
+may bleed to death in there when we
+could save him all right if we had him
+outside.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;There&#8217;s a party of miners down the
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span>
+road eight mile. They was having their
+grub as I went by. Chances are they&#8217;ll
+be there yet. They&#8217;ve got four men
+and a team. I <i>could</i> ride back, but I
+ought to be here working. Do you
+think you could stick on old Buck and
+ride there?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I kin.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;By God! I hate to do it&mdash;but there
+ain&#8217;t any other way!&#8221; The big man
+ground his teeth together. &#8220;I hate to
+do it&mdash;damned if I&#8217;ll do it!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Ches caught his hand. &#8220;I kin make
+it, Bud,&#8221; he pleaded; &#8220;I cuddent do
+nothin&#8217; if I stayed here, an&#8217; you could
+do a heap. Put me up and let me try.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;All right,&#8221; said Bud. &#8220;The good
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span>
+Lord kept you from getting hurt in the
+tunnel, perhaps He&#8217;ll see you through
+again. Shut your eyes and hold on tight
+when you strike the high places, and
+don&#8217;t touch a rein&mdash;leave it all to old
+Buck.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He stepped forward and caught the
+horse by the bit.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Buck!&#8221; he said, as though talking
+to a human being, &#8220;you and me have
+been through a heap together&mdash;don&#8217;t
+fall down on me, now!&mdash;Take the kid
+safe, old boy!&#8221; He caught Ches up
+and threw him across the saddle.
+&#8220;You&#8217;ll only have to tell &#8217;em what&#8217;s
+happened&mdash;the Lord send nothing
+happens to you! Good-by, you brave
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span>
+little devil&mdash;we&#8217;ll win out yet. Go it,
+Buck!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>And while one of Jim&#8217;s friends plied
+pick and shovel like a mad man, the
+other was swaying on top of a galloping
+horse, gripping the pommel of the
+saddle with all the strength he had, and
+shutting his eyes when he came to the
+high places.
+</p>
+<p>Captain Hanrahan&#8217;s party were miners
+of substance. They were working
+their way out to a new country to suit
+their inclinations. It had just been
+suggested that it was perhaps time to
+hit the trail again when the captain saw
+a figure on a horse flying athwart the
+mountain side&mdash;the regular road was
+bad enough, but Bud had short cuts of
+his own, and Buck followed his usual
+way.
+</p>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-126.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<div><span class='pagenum'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></div>
+<p>&#8220;Huh!&#8221; said the captain, &#8220;that man&#8217;s
+drunk or crazy?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Holy sufferin&#8217;!&#8221; gasped the man
+next him, as the yellow horse slipped
+on a turn and sent a shower of gravel a
+thousand feet below. &#8220;That was a near
+touch,&#8221; as the horse caught himself and
+swept on.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Looks to me like a case of trouble,
+Cap,&#8221; said a third speaker. &#8220;That ain&#8217;t
+no man, anyhow&mdash;it&#8217;s only a boy.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Horse running away with him,
+probably&mdash;his folks ought to be
+clubbed for letting him out on such an
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span>
+animal. Well, spread out, boys, and
+we&#8217;ll catch him.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>But Buck stopped in two jumps, at
+Ches&#8217; command of &#8220;Whoa!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Fren&#8217;s!&#8221; cried the boy, &#8220;me pardner&#8217;s
+caught in a tunnel dat caved in on
+him. Kin yer help us out? Three mile
+above Jones&#8217;s Hill.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>He had not finished the sentence before
+two men sprang for the horses.
+The rest grabbed picks and shovels and
+hurled them into the wagon.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll be there, hell-a-whooping,&#8221;
+said Captain Hanrahan.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;T&#8217;anks!&#8221; replied Ches weakly, and
+then the world went out. The captain
+caught him as he fell.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Poor little cuss! He rid hard to
+help his pardner!&#8221; said the captain.
+&#8220;Hump yourselves, boys&mdash;all ready!
+Got the whisky, Pete? Picks enough?
+Stick the axes where they won&#8217;t jump
+loose and cut a leg off some of us. Tie
+the horse behind&mdash;good animal, that.
+All right, let &#8217;em go!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>They went. Over stones and gulleys,
+the tools clanging and banging fit to
+leap from the wagon, the men clinging
+to the side-boards for dear life.
+</p>
+<p>Down hill-sides like the slant of a
+roof, the horses keeping out of the way
+of the wagon; up the other side with
+the reeking animals straining every
+fiber; over bridges that bent fearfully
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span>
+beneath the shock of their onset; swaying
+around curves with the wheels sluing
+and sparks flying, and over the
+level as though the devil himself were
+behind them.
+</p>
+<p>It was the record trip for eight
+miles in a wagon in that country. The
+driver stood up, a foot braced on either
+side, the reins thrown loose, the whip
+plied hard, and every urging that voice
+could give shrieked out by his powerful
+lungs.
+</p>
+<p>It was like the rush of a fire-engine,
+plus twice the speed, and twenty times
+the danger. Above the pounding of
+hoofs, the din of rattling metal, the
+crash, smash and roar of the wheels
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span>
+and the yells of the driver could be
+heard the man Pete, ex-cowpuncher,
+cheerfully singing,
+</p>
+<table summary='poetry' style='margin: 0 auto 0 ; '><tr><td>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>&#8220;Roll your tails, and roll &#8217;em high,</p>
+<p  style='margin: 0 0 0 0em;'>We&#8217;ll all be angels by-and-by.&#8221;</p>
+</td></tr></table>
+
+<p>Braced in the back corner sat Captain
+Hanrahan, his leg keeping some
+of the tools from going overboard,
+holding Ches in his arms.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Curse it all, Billy!&#8221; he screamed to
+the driver, &#8220;miss <i>some</i> of them bumps,
+will you? I&#8217;ve got on a new pair of
+pants.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll take &#8217;em clean off you the next
+time, Cap!&#8221; retorted the driver.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span></p>
+<p>They joked, which may seem heartless;
+but they risked their necks a hundred
+times, and that isn&#8217;t very heartless.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;That&#8217;s the place, I reckon, Cap!&#8221;
+said the driver, pointing. &#8220;Somebody
+working there now!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Give &#8217;em a hoot!&#8221; replied the captain.
+</p>
+<p>Bud stepped out and held up his
+hand in answer to the yell. The wave
+of thanksgiving at the sight of this
+most efficient help took all the stiffness
+out of the knees of the mail-rider. The
+tears rolled down his face unnoticed.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re welcome, boys,&#8221; he cried,
+as the driver sawed the frenzied team
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span>
+to a standstill and the men sprang out.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Reckon we are,&#8221; said the captain.
+&#8220;Now what&#8217;s up?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Is the boy hurt? Good God! He
+ain&#8217;t hurt himself, has he?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Naw; pore little cuss is used up,
+that&#8217;s all. He&#8217;ll be around all right in
+a minute. Now tell me, what&#8217;s loose.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Bud answered briefly, but completely.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pete and Billy, get to cutting wood&mdash;the
+rest of you come here,&#8221; commanded
+the captain.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You ain&#8217;t going to stop to timber,
+are you?&#8221; asked Bud in an agony of
+haste.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I sure am,&#8221; replied the captain.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span>
+&#8220;All this trouble&#8217;s come of carelessness.
+Now you just keep your clothes on, and
+let me run this thing.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll have your friend out in no
+time, and there won&#8217;t be no more men
+stuck in there with a hill a-top of &#8217;em
+in the doing of it. What you&#8217;ve done
+there is a help all right, but it might
+easy have meant that we&#8217;d had two men
+instead of one to hunt for.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re dead right,&#8221; said Bud.
+&#8220;Tell me what I&#8217;m to do.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The captain took hold as only a man
+can who has the genius for it. He knew
+by long practice what size of a relief
+tunnel meant real speed of progress&mdash;the
+least dirt to be removed to make it
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span>
+possible that men could work to advantage.
+And his tunnel, safely rough-ceiled,
+went in at the rate of a foot a
+minute.
+</p>
+<p>When at last they pulled the insensible
+man out into the light of day,
+and found that while his wound,
+though severe, and if neglected mortal,
+was not likely to be dangerous with
+good attention, the captain said that he
+must be getting about his business.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, stay a little longer, fellers, till
+he comes to,&#8221; remonstrated Bud. &#8220;He&#8217;d
+like to have a chance to say &#8216;Thank
+you.&#8217;&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Bugs!&#8221; replied the captain. &#8220;You
+tell him he owes us a drink, and as a
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span>
+particular favor to me, please not to
+put his frames over four foot apart in
+that ground.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;We&#8217;re likely to be back here shortly,
+anyhow, because I think your friend
+has got hold of the right idea from
+what you tell me of his plans; but it&#8217;ll
+take more&#8217;n one man to really prospect
+it. If we don&#8217;t hit it where we&#8217;re going,
+we&#8217;ll sure come back.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well, boys, <i>I</i> can thank you and
+I&#8217;m going to,&#8221; said Bud. &#8220;That man is
+my friend, and if you hadn&#8217;t come as
+you did&mdash;&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Say, let go,&#8221; interrupted the captain.
+&#8220;You&#8217;d have done the same thing
+if you&#8217;d been us, wouldn&#8217;t you?&#8221;
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;Yes,&#8221; admitted Bud reluctantly.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;And you wouldn&#8217;t want to be
+thanked for it a white chip more&#8217;n we
+do,&#8221; concluded the captain. &#8220;If there&#8217;s
+any thanks coming it is to that little
+two-foot chunk of man yonder. Snaking
+over that fall was a thing to put a
+crimp in anybody. You was bound to
+help your pardner, wasn&#8217;t you, son?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The boy looked up into the captain&#8217;s
+eagle face. &#8220;I&#8217;d &#8217;er got to Jim,&#8221; he answered
+simply, &#8220;&#8217;f I&#8217;d had ter chew
+me way in like a rat.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The captain stepped back and
+looked at him.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;By the Lord!&#8221; he said slowly, &#8220;I believe
+you would!&#8221; A change came over
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span>
+the thin, arrogant face. He stooped
+suddenly, raised the boy and kissed
+him. &#8220;Now, get out o&#8217; this!&#8221; he roared
+at the driver, as he leaped into the
+wagon.
+</p>
+<p>They waved their hands as long as
+the miners were in sight, and stood
+staring until Pete&#8217;s statement that
+they&#8217;d all be angels by-and-by was lost
+in the distance.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Pretty good folks when you&#8217;re in
+trouble, ain&#8217;t they, Ches?&#8221; said Bud.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;What &#8217;ud we have done, if dey
+hadn&#8217;t come?&mdash;Ain&#8217;t it &#8217;mos&#8217; time Jim
+was moving, Bud?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll give him another spoonful of
+whisky, but you can&#8217;t expect him to
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span>
+start right up and hop around. He got
+an awful crack, boy.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>For all that, as the dose of strong
+liquor went down Jim&#8217;s throat, he
+opened his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Hello, Bud! Hello, Ches!&#8221; he said
+wonderingly. &#8220;Have I been asleep?&mdash;Why,
+what the devil&#8217;s the matter with
+my head?&#8221; he raised his hand to the
+spruce-gum bandage. &#8220;Phew! But I
+feel weak!&#8221; he sighed as his hand
+dropped. &#8220;Something&#8217;s happened&mdash;what
+is it?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>There, with a friend on each side
+holding a hand, they told him the story.
+It was a sacred reunion.
+</p>
+<p>The gratitude of the man saved, and
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span>
+the protestations of the others that they
+would have done all they did a thousand
+times again would only seem
+childish in repetition. They cried,
+too, which is excusable in a child, but
+not in two big men. Men don&#8217;t cry. It
+is the monopoly of women. Nevertheless,
+Bud and Jim and Ches cried and
+swore, and shook hands and cried again
+until it was a pitiful thing to see.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; said Bud at last, &#8220;this
+makes you feel better, but it won&#8217;t get
+the work done. I&#8217;ve got to go out and
+fix old Buck and get in some firewood.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;ll do that!&#8221; cried Jim, raising
+himself on his elbow.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span></p>
+<p>&#8220;You?&#8221; jeered Bud. &#8220;You look like
+it! Now, you lie right down there and
+get well&mdash;that&#8217;s your play. It would
+make us feel as if we&#8217;d wasted our time
+if we had to turn to and bury you after
+all the trouble we&#8217;ve had. You&#8217;re good
+for two weeks in that bunk, old horse.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Two weeks! I can&#8217;t, Bud; I can&#8217;t!
+I must get up before that!&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;You lie down there&mdash;hear me?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But I&#8217;ll have to see to things around&mdash;you
+can&#8217;t stay.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;I stay right here till you&#8217;re well.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But the mail?&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;The devil take the mail&mdash;or anybody
+else that wants the job. Uncle
+Sammy won&#8217;t hop on to my collar button,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span>
+because of the fine send-off my
+friend the inspector&#8217;ll give. And somebody
+will get orry-eyed up in town, and
+come down to find what&#8217;s loose. He&#8217;ll
+take the bags then. It&#8217;s all settled.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;But there are other things&mdash;&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Let &#8217;em rest. Now I&#8217;m off to do the
+chores&mdash;oh, say, speaking of mail,
+here&#8217;s a letter for you I forgot all about
+in the excitement&mdash;here you go. Come
+along, Ches, and help me carry wood.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>The miner looked at the letter in his
+hand, and a tinge of blood crept into
+his white cheeks, then ebbed, leaving
+them whiter than before.
+</p>
+<p>Suppose there were other men who
+wanted her; men with money, learning,
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span>
+wit and influence. Was this bitterest
+of blows to fall upon him when
+he was already down? He looked at
+his hands, green from loss of blood. &#8220;I
+tried,&#8221; he muttered, &#8220;I tried.&#8221;
+</p>
+<p>Still the very touch of the paper
+seemed to have something warm and
+heartening in it. It was from <i>her</i>, anyhow.
+With sudden strength he tore it
+open and read:
+</p>
+<div class='blockquot'>
+<p><span style='font-variant: small-caps'>Dearest, Dearest Jim</span>&mdash;I yield the
+whole case. You are right.
+</p>
+<p>It is to my shame that clear-sightedness
+came from no source within me,
+but from a brave example set.
+</p>
+<p>My little cousin married the man
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span>
+she loved last week, and, of course,
+Miss Anne was a high functionary.
+</p>
+<p>Oh, what a stirring there was in me,
+Jim, watching them and thinking of
+you!
+</p>
+<p>They will be as poor as church mice,
+but they do not care, and theirs is the
+wise economy.
+</p>
+<p>Life is too short to waste, Jim, I see
+it now. I put it all in your hands, dearest;
+if you can not come to me, I shall
+come to you.
+</p>
+<p>I believe I&#8217;m only lukewarm by
+habit, not by nature.
+</p>
+<p>I wish I could tell you how sorry I
+am for the time I have squandered.
+</p>
+<p>I&#8217;ll show you, that will be better.
+<span class='pagenum'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span></p>
+<p>Any time, or any place and no conditions
+now, Jim. That&#8217;s all, my dear
+brave lover. Good night.
+</p>
+<p style='text-align:right'>Your own,&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Anne.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class='figcenter'>
+<img src='images/illus-144.jpg' alt='' title='' /><br />
+<span class='caption'>
+
+<br />
+</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He was sitting bolt upright. Once
+more he devoured the letter. Then he
+sank back and closed his eyes.
+</p>
+<p>&#8220;Thank you, my darling, I can rest
+now,&#8221; he said.
+</p>
+<p>The golden sunset light played in
+riotous joyousness on the cabin walls;
+the little creek laughed out loud; so did
+Ches and Bud, approaching the cabin.
+It was a beautiful and happy world.
+</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***</p>
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@@ -0,0 +1,2281 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch, by Henry
+Wallace Phillips, Illustrated by F. Graham Cootes
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Mascot of Sweet Briar Gulch
+
+
+Author: Henry Wallace Phillips
+
+
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2008  [eBook #25809]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 25809-h.htm or 25809-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/0/25809/25809-h/25809-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/5/8/0/25809/25809-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+by
+
+HENRY WALLACE PHILLIPS
+
+Author of Red Saunders
+Plain Mary Smith
+etc.
+
+With Illustrations by F. Graham Cootes
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+Grosset & Dunlap
+Publishers
+
+Copyright 1908
+The Bobbs-Merrill Company
+October
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH
+
+
+The gulch ran in a trough of beauty to the foot of Jones's Hill, which
+rose in a sweeping curve into the clouds.
+
+Wild flowers, trees in profuse leaf, and mats of vines covered the
+scarred earth, and the sky was as limpid as spring water; the air carried
+a weight of heart-stirring odors, yet Jim Felton, sitting on the
+door-step of his cabin in the brilliant sunshine, was not a happy man.
+
+He looked at the hollow of the gulch and cursed it manfully and bitterly.
+The gold should be there--Jim had figured it all out. The old wash cut at
+right angles to the creek, and at the turn was where its freight of
+yellow metal should have been deposited, but when you got down to the
+bed-rock, the blasted stuff was either slanted so nothing could stay on
+it, or was rotten--crumbling in your fingers, and that kind of bed will
+hold nothing.
+
+Therefore Jim had sunk about fifty prospect holes; got colors under the
+grass-roots, as evidence that pay should be there--and nothing but ashy
+wash beneath it.
+
+When a man is alone, and thinks things are wrong, optimism comes down on
+the run, the shades of pessimism gather fast and furious--more especially
+if a man does his own cooking, and the raw material is limited, at that.
+
+The sun had not moved the shadows three inches before Jim had reached the
+conclusion that this world was all a practical joke, of so low an order
+that no sensible man would even laugh at it, and he drew a letter from
+his pocket in proof thereof. It was a thin letter, written on delicate
+paper in a delicate hand, and it showed much wear. He read for the
+thousandth time:
+
+  Dearest Jim--And again I must say "no." Of course you will not
+  understand, for which foolish reason I like you all the better, but
+  you must try to take my point of view. You say that we can be
+  married on nothing and take our chances.
+
+  So we can, old simple-heart--but aren't those chances all against
+  us? Would you like to be forced to work in some office for just
+  enough to live on? You know you would not, and you know how you
+  would suffer in such slavery.
+
+  Nevertheless we can not live on air, and I doubt if I would stand
+  transplanting to the wild life you love, better than you to a
+  clerk's desk. You have that fancy which gilds the tin cans in the
+  back yard; I have that unfortunate eye which would multiply their
+  number by three, and their unsightliness by ten. I don't want
+  riches, dear; I only want a modest assurance that I can have enough
+  to live on.
+
+  Really, is your way of doing a guarantee of even bread and butter? In
+  the Garden of Eden you would be the most delightful of companions,
+  but in this world as it is, you will not fight for your own. You
+  would risk your life to save a dog, but you couldn't stay at a
+  continued grind--I mean it would kill you, actually, physically,
+  dead, dead--to save all of us. At first I thought that a fault in
+  you, but now, being older, having compared you to other men, I see it
+  is merely a missing faculty.
+
+  I could stick to the desk, and would gladly, if you would let me,
+  yet I could not even fancy behaving as you did at the factory fire,
+  which is still the symbol in the town for manly courage and presence
+  of mind.
+
+  They talk now of the way you laughed and joked with those poor
+  frightened girls (who had such good cause to be frightened) and
+  brought them back to sanity with a jest. I feel that if I had the
+  least atom of heroism in me I would marry you for that feat alone,
+  and let cold facts go hang; but, ah, Jim! magnificent as you are on
+  the grand occasions, they come but seldom, and in the meantime,
+  Jim--I'll leave that to your own honesty.
+
+  I'm plebeian, Jim, and you're a nobleman, with a beautiful but
+  embarrassing disregard for vulgar necessities.
+
+  However, I can say this for myself--for surely I may brag a little
+  to my lover--I can try to match your splendid physical bravery by
+  my own moral courage.
+
+  You may rest your soul in peace on one point. If I am not for you,
+  I'm for no man, no, not so much as a half-glance of the eye. I
+  wouldn't hold myself a bit more straitly if I were your wife.
+
+  You'll be angry at this letter. Well, I'll stand your anger. I have
+  caused it, and I'll bear the blame. I know that we could not be
+  happy without some visible means of support, yet I do not blame you
+  in the least for thinking otherwise.
+
+  Be as kind to me as you can, Jim, for I love you very much in my
+  commonplace way. I'll admit, too, that I had rather have your fire
+  than my refrigerator--oh, if you could only make some money--not a
+  great deal, but enough for a little house of our own, and enough in
+  the bank to buy groceries!
+
+  With my best love, and an aching lump in my throat,
+
+  Your mother, sister, and sweetheart,
+
+                                                               Anne.
+
+Jim dropped the letter, and his lips trembled a little. Parts of it
+touched him deeply, and he was the more enraged and hurt at the rest
+because of that.
+
+He could not call her mercenary. He knew better. More than one very
+comfortable income was at her disposal.
+
+Poor fellow! He could only grind his teeth and curse Sweet Briar gulch
+from the deepest pot-hole in the bed-rock to the top of its loftiest
+pine. He drew out her photograph, and obtained much sweet consolation by
+thinking how happy they two would be in Sweet Briar gulch together, even
+if there wasn't a cent of pay in the gravel.
+
+Sick of this ingenious torture, he lit his pipe and drew savagely upon
+it. With a mocking gurgle, about a dram of "slumgullion" passed into his
+mouth. It was the last touch. He spat out the biting, nauseating stuff,
+hurled the pipe upon the rocks and danced on it.
+
+And yet the colors frolicked in the gulch; the pines toned the air with
+healthy breath.
+
+From afar came the th-r-r-up! th-r-r-up! th-r-r-up of a galloping horse.
+It was Bud, the mail-carrier, coming, modestly and quietly, at a decent
+gait, down a trail where most would prefer to walk, and to "hang on" to
+something at that.
+
+At first Jim felt irritated by the interruption. He wanted to luxuriate
+in misery: still he was a vigorous, healthy man, and the cheery
+good-fellowship of Bud soon made away with that feeling.
+
+"Well, how they coming, Jimmy?" queried the young giant. "Hit her yet?"
+
+"Hit--well, much caloric,"--replied Jim. "I've begun to believe there
+ain't a durned thing here."
+
+"You're looking kind of owly, old man--what's up? Don't you feel well?"
+
+"Oh, Bud I I'm sick of everything this day--I don't believe in the
+constitution of the United States, including the thirteenth amendment,
+nor the ten commandments, nor the attraction of gravitation, nor anything
+else--it's all a damned lie."
+
+"No wonder you get like that, mousing around here without a chance to
+yappi with a feller critter. 'Nough to make you locoed.
+
+"Jump it for a spell. Go up town. Get loaded. Get horribly loaded. Break
+somebody's window, and tell the folks you're a Sweet Briar zephyr come to
+blow out their lights. Go ahead and do it. When your hair stops pulling
+you'll feel like a new man."
+
+Jim thought the advice sound, yet a strange feeling had developed in him,
+in his isolation; it was that the eye of Anne was always on him. He had
+fallen into a habit, which becomes a superstition when a man is alone, of
+acting as though she were there in person.
+
+However, he didn't feel called upon to offer Bud that explanation of his
+refusal. He conveyed the idea in one brief word.
+
+"Busted," said he.
+
+"Busted?" retorted Bud warmly. "Busted? Not much, you ain't busted whilst
+that little package is there, bet cher life! You call for what you want,
+and the cashier will make good."
+
+"Ah, Bud! How'll I ever pay you back? Keep it, man, keep it," replied Jim
+in a disheartened voice.
+
+"Say, you ain't got no call to worry about that part of it--there's where
+my troubles begin," returned Bud. "Now, you take these two bucks and jab
+'em in your jeans--Go on, now! Do as I tell you, or damned if I don't
+lick you and make you take 'em! What's the good of money if it ain't to
+help a friend out with? I don't care who gets drunk on it, just so long
+as they have a good time.
+
+"Boy, you'll be sailing up the track regardless of orders, with your
+boiler full of suds, if you don't get out in the scramble for a while."
+
+"Lord! I'd like to see a railroad train! Haven't heard a whistle for two
+years! How far is it to the nearest station, Bud?"
+
+"Plattsburg--fifty mile--due south."
+
+"Christmas! Little far to walk."
+
+"Say, you take this horse, Jim,--go ahead! I can walk just as well as
+not, I'm getting too fat, anyhow. Go on, you take the horse and have a
+ride to Plattsburg!"
+
+"Yes, take the shirt off your back, and never mind if a bit of the skin
+goes with it. I'll see you far away first. Tell you what you could do for
+me, Buddy; the herd of burros is around now, if you'd round up one of
+them for me?"
+
+"Sure thing! You sit on the mail sack till I come back. There's a heap of
+registered stuff in it this trip. Oh say! What do you think? I was held
+up t'other side of the Bulldog. Bang! Zipp! says a little popper from the
+bushes. I climbed for them bushes, and out goes a beggar like a rabbit. I
+was after him like a coyote, bet cher life. Who do you suppose it was,
+Jim?"
+
+"Hang it, how should I know?"
+
+"That little down-east cuss with the crook in his back. He begged hard.
+Poor devil, he was up against the sandpaper side, all right. He heard
+from the postmaster that there was a lot of valuable mail going out, so
+he thought he'd make a try for it. Then what do you think he had the
+cold, cold nerve to do?"
+
+"Pass it up--'most anything, I reckon."
+
+"Worse'n that. Struck me for fifty!"
+
+"And got it."
+
+"Got it? No, not much he didn't, sonny! He drew just ten, and he was
+lucky to get that. I've done a favor or two for that feller, first and
+last, and to have him shoot at me made me sore--although he missed me by
+several locations, I'll say that for him--so I gave him the ten and told
+him I'd kick the hump on his back so high up on his shoulders he could
+wear it for a hat, if he ever shoved into my daylight again. And you
+never in your life saw a humpback make better time than he did.
+
+"Well here's for your jack-ass--which way's the herd?"
+
+"Right up over the hill."
+
+Jim sat patiently on the sack until Bud returned with the burro.
+
+"Here's your thoroughbred!" holloed Bud. "Get ap, there, Mary. Look at
+the knowing ears of him, will you? You bet cher life, you've got an
+animile there that'll go when he gets ready, and as fast as he pretty
+well damn pleases--nail him!"
+
+Jim tied a gunny sack on his noble mount, and the two rode on together to
+the fork in the trail. Jim tried to thank his friend, who knocked his hat
+over his eyes, and said, "Aw, write it down when you've got more time.
+Never see a feller in my life I cottoned to more'n you, Jim. First I
+thought you was too smooth for my kind of traveling, but later, I see it
+was only the grain of the wood. I believe in my friends, I do. Here we go
+hopping around this little world for a small time, and then that's done.
+S'pose you ain't got any real friends for the trip? Rotten, I say. You go
+ahead and rip Plattsburg up the back. Wisht I could be there with you.
+Don't you mind consequences. So long, old man! Hike! You beggar!" The
+buckskin pony was off with a snort and a splashing of gravel as the irons
+touched his sides, and Bud vanished down the road without a look behind
+him.
+
+The next day Jim was in Plattsburg. One does not know what an alluring
+quality, what a hazy enchantment can linger around even a small town,
+until an absence in a real wilderness has given man's work a new flavor.
+
+The people coming and going, the traffic of the stores, the dwellings
+with small cultivated plots around them warmed Jim like a fire. He had
+been very lonely, without knowing it. In the afternoon he went down to
+the depot to see the eastern train come in.
+
+Here again absence played a part, and restored the locomotive to its
+proper proportions of a miracle.
+
+As the engine glided in, shaking the ground beneath it, it seemed
+impossible to Jim that man really made it. What! Bend those mighty rods
+of steel to his will? Twist and shape those others? Cast those great
+drivers? And after, to drive the monster with a hand?
+
+He drew back as the buzzing engine passed him, with something like awe.
+Then the moving village came to a stop and the passengers sallied forth
+to test their legs, wearied with long sitting.
+
+There was humanity of all shades, from the haughty aristocrat of the
+Pullman, to the peasant of the immigrant car.
+
+Jim had a sense of pleasure in beholding well-dressed folk again; yet it
+was merely an aesthetic pleasure, for he found, when he began to
+speculate on the possibilities of the throng before him, that he was more
+interested in those whose all was staked on the trip, than in those to
+whom it was only an excursion.
+
+People of widely differing nationalities occupied the immigrant car. Jim
+wondered whether they would ever become Americans, according to his ideas
+of Americans, a people in which he had great pride and delight; and he
+shook his head doubtfully as he took them in.
+
+Suddenly a small boy darted out of a car; an exceedingly small boy, thin
+to emaciation, who made his way through the crowd with that sprawling,
+active, dancing manner peculiar to thin small boys and spiders.
+
+Jim half laughed at the little chap until he saw his face; then he
+realized at a glance that the matter was no laughing one for the boy.
+
+At the same time he saw the shocking thinness of the little face, made
+into a wolf's face by hunger; the mingled horror and desperation of the
+eyes; the big man would not have believed a child's face could express
+emotions of such magnitude. He was wonder-stricken at the sight, and felt
+an instinctive sympathy for the fugitive.
+
+It is a strange thing how fortune will sometimes guide with certainty,
+when reason shows no path.
+
+The boy came unerringly toward Jim; Jim had a sort of prophetic insight
+that he would. Back behind him the urchin ran. "Don't cher give me away,
+Mister!" he pleaded. Jim flapped a hand in answer.
+
+At the time he was leaning against a corner of the station; a little back
+of him was a small lean-to shed where various truck was stored.
+
+Out of the car came a burly brute of a man, who stared about him rapidly.
+
+"Dat's der ol' man," whispered the boy. "If he gits holt of me, there
+won't be a hull bone left in me body."
+
+The man walked up to the conductor and spoke to him.
+
+"Aggh!" said the boy. "Now dey'll get me sure--der jig is up--dey'll have
+der hull gang ertop o' me!" the voice trailed off into a strangled sob,
+and then continued in a fierce whisper: "Aggh! If I had me growth, I'd
+show 'em! I'd show 'em!" and then a burst of hair-raising profanity.
+
+The argument was growing loud between the man, who was urging something,
+and the conductor, who was declining; others were walking toward the
+moderate excitement.
+
+Jim wheeled and caught the boy in his arms. "Up you go!" he said, and
+tossed him on top of the shed. "Lie low behind the wood there, and you
+are all right."
+
+Then came the conductor's voice: "Say, my friend, if you think I'm going
+to hold my train while you hunt up a lost kid, there's something in you
+that don't work right! Why didn't you take care of him while you had him?
+Now you've got just four minutes by the watch; either hustle around and
+hunt, or drop off the train and hunt--what's that? Now don't you give me
+any slack, you black-muzzled tarrier, or I'll have the fear of God thrown
+into you too quick. Get out of here now! Get out of my way!"
+
+The man slouched off, and made a hasty search around the station. A
+woman's face--scarcely an improvement on the man's--leaned out of the car
+window and jeered at the hunter, who cursed her back savagely.
+
+The man walked up to Jim. "Say, did yer see a kid go by here, Mister?"
+
+With a shrug of his shoulders, Jim asked him that question in Mr.
+Ollendorf's French method, about the pink-and-green overcoat of the
+shoemaker's wife's sister.
+
+The man showered low abuse on what he supposed was a foreigner, until
+Jim's ribs rose with the desire to kill him.
+
+"Ayr, wot are yer wastin' time wid th' Dago fur?" called the woman. "Th'
+kid's on the roof!" Jim's heart almost stopped, so thoroughly had he
+identified himself with this quarrel. He made up his mind to fight for
+the boy, right or wrong.
+
+But he was saved the trouble. It was only a jest of the woman's, for she
+suddenly called, so earnestly that even Jim was fooled. "No he ain't
+neither; I see him! I see him! There he is." It was the perfection of
+acting, voice and gesture.
+
+The man ran out to see where she was pointing. "Where is he?" he asked,
+looking wildly around.
+
+"On top der flag-pole, like er monkey! You're it!" she cried, with a
+shriek of laughter at the black brows of her dupe.
+
+"I'll show yer der joke, when I git in dere!" he threatened.
+
+The woman leaned her chin on her hands and smiled. Jim never forgot the
+utter undauntedness, impudence and malice of that face. "Yer allus goin'
+to do sumpin', Pete!" she retorted. "Yer'll be a man yet."
+
+A more amiable man than "Pete" might have been provoked by such conduct.
+He strode forward with white-knuckled fists and a very unpleasant
+expression on his face. Several men started to interfere, but it wasn't
+necessary.
+
+The woman quietly looked at her bully, chewing a straw with the utmost
+nonchalance. "Give us a kiss," said she. The man's crest dropped. He said
+something in an undertone, and got on the car.
+
+Jim needed no further knowledge of this delightful couple to be
+thoroughly on the boy's side. It seemed to him that the man was quite
+capable of keeping a small animal at hand, for the fun of torturing it,
+and as for the woman--well, if there was her like in hell, Jim determined
+to be good for the rest of his days.
+
+"All aboard!" cried the conductor, and with a few mighty breaths the iron
+giant whisked its load out in the open again.
+
+"Stay where you are, son, till I see whether that fellow is playing a
+trick," said Jim, and not until he had looked under the platform, up and
+down the track, and in the waiting rooms, did he give the command, "Come
+down!"
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+The passenger agent saw the performance with astonishment. "So you had
+the boy tucked away all the time?" said he. "Just what kind of a game is
+this?"
+
+"Dunno," returned Jim. "Let the boy speak for himself. Now, young man,
+what's the matter?"
+
+The urchin stood before them, taking them in thoroughly with his sharp
+little eyes. More big men strolled up. As a particularly fine foil to the
+boy's diminutive form, Benny, the baggage smasher, whose overhanging
+shoulders testified whence came the power that had reduced many a proud
+Saratoga to elemental conditions, and "Happy Jack," the mammoth,
+soot-black, loose-jointed negro porter, placed themselves on either side
+of him. They made the boy look more like an insect than ever.
+
+"Wot's de matter?" he cried in a voice at once hoarse and shrill, with a
+cursing note in it, and accompanying the words with an extravagant,
+dramatic gesture of his skinny claw. "I'll tell yer wot's der matter--dey
+beat me--dey beat me bad. I don't ast youse to take me word fur it--look
+at me back--dat's all I ast yer--jes' look at dat!"
+
+He ripped the shirt from his shoulders. An angry growl went up from all
+those big-bearded men when they saw the horrible stripes and welts--raw,
+blue and swollen--on the poor little back.
+
+Happy Jack threw up both his gorilla arms. "Lord Jesus! Who done you like
+dat, boy?" he cried. "'F I got m' hookers on him, cuss me 'f I wudden'
+put bumps on him bigger'n yer hull body."
+
+"Now yer talkin'," shrieked the boy. He raised himself to the tips of his
+toes, bared his teeth to the gum, and with clutching talons, gripping at
+the air, yelled: "Aggh! If I had me growth! I'd bite his heart out! I'd
+tear his neck for 'im!"
+
+The men looked astounded on this mighty fury, pent in so small and
+miserable a cage. The voice had a peculiar alarming call to it, like the
+note of a fire-gong.
+
+Suddenly the boy's head dropped on the crook of his arm. "Treated me
+wuss'n a dog," he sobbed out. "Done me so it makes even dat nigger holler
+when he sees it."
+
+Happy Jack was taken aback. The other men smoothed down their faces
+forcibly.
+
+"Say, lil' boy, you think dat's a p'lite way to talk to people?" inquired
+Jack.
+
+The boy wiped his eyes on his sleeve and went over to him. "Say, don't
+yer holt nothin' ag'in me fur der word," said he. "Dey've got me
+looney--dat's wot--yer've used me liker fren'; and if it hoits yer, yer
+can kick me pants fur me, and I won't say nuthin'."
+
+"Well, there's two-pound-and-a-half of dead game sport for you, all
+right!" cried Benny. "Good eye, kid!"
+
+Happy Jack smiled a mollified smile eight inches wide. "You is all right,
+beau," said he. "An' as fur as my bein' a nigger's concerned, I'll admit
+my kerplection ain't light." He slapped his ham and brought down a foot
+on the platform. "Hyah, hyah!" he roared, "you bet dere ain't no dam'
+blond 'bout me!"
+
+The infectious darky laugh started the others off, and brought matters to
+a common-sense footing.
+
+The passenger agent took up the interrogation. Was the man the boy's real
+father? Answer: "How'd I know? Dat's der song he guv me." Were there any
+relatives? Friends? Answer: "Naw!" Well, what did the boy propose to do?
+Answer, digging his toes into the boards: "Didn't know--anyt'ing!" What
+was his name? "Jim." Jim what? "Didn't know. Sometimes der gun callt
+himself 'Darragh,' an' sometimes 'Mullen,' an' sometimes 'Smit.' Aggh! He
+callt himself the foist t'ing dat come to his tongue--he didn't have no
+real name."
+
+The agent talked to him a bit more, winding up by saying kindly: "You've
+had a pretty rough time of it, Jimmy, and we'd all like to give you a
+lift--now, just say what you'd like to do, and maybe we can fix it."
+
+"I'd like to go along wid dat feller, 'f he'll take me," replied the boy,
+tossing a thumb toward Jim Felton. There was a becoming access of shyness
+in his manner; moreover, Felton had an increased interest in him when he
+knew they bore the same name--a sort of kinship, as it were.
+
+"Well, it's up to you, Mister--" said the passenger agent, with a smile.
+
+"Felton," said Jim. "I'm in. I'll take the boy. Hard rustling down my
+way, but I guess we can make out somehow. Sure you want to go, kid?"
+
+"Yessir!" very heartily.
+
+"Done, then!"
+
+Happy Jack snatched off his uniform cap, spat on a bill, and flapped it
+into the bottom thereof.
+
+"Good-by, fren'!" said he. He shook the cap in front of the others.
+"Here's fur the lil' rooster; step up to the capen's office an' settle,
+gents!" he called. "'Member what de Bible says, 'Fool an' his money soon
+parted.' Come up! Come up!"
+
+They came up generously.
+
+"Stick a five in there for me, Bill," said Benny to the passenger agent,
+"I'm strapped."
+
+"How much you got, boy?" asked the agent, as Happy counted the money.
+
+"Fo'ty dollars, even money, Misto' Breckenridge." The agent was a
+bachelor with a fat salary. "Here, that makes it fifty," said he. He
+turned to Felton. "Now, what do you say if we go across the street
+and--er--discuss this matter a little further?"
+
+"Go you," replied Felton.
+
+"Now, Jimmy, you sit here for a moment. We're going on some business."
+
+The boy glanced at them sharply. "Youse fellers is goin' to get a drink,"
+said he.
+
+Those big men put their hands on their sides and roared.
+
+"You'll find that kid worse than a wife, Felton!" said the agent.
+
+"No use of our being hypocrites to the little chap. I reckon he's seen
+worse things than the inside of a saloon. Come along, laddybuck."
+
+They lined up and partook. The agent told the story of the waif. "And we
+started him off with fifty, Mac," he said to the saloon-keeper. "Suppose
+you break away from some of your ill-gotten gains in the good cause."
+
+The saloon-keeper opened his cash drawer without words and slid over a
+five-dollar bill. He seemed very glad to part with it.
+
+"Confound it! Now we're upsticks again," said the agent. "Tell you what
+let's do. Here's ten of us. Each man put up a two, and we'll shake the
+dice to see who gives it to the kid--winner to set 'em up. That'll make
+seventy-five--a very respectable figure."
+
+They played a new interesting dice-game, in which the figure of a pig
+drawn in chalk upon the bar furnished the "lay-out." It is a game which
+increases in interest to the last throw. They stuck the saloon-keeper,
+and were gleeful.
+
+"We ought to name the boy," said Felton, under the inspiration of the
+second refreshment. "My name's Jim, and I want something else to call him
+by. I'll make him a present of my last name."
+
+"Gad, that's so!" replied the agent.
+
+"Call him Chescheela Jim," put in a cow-man. "That's Injun for 'little
+Jim.' 'Ches' ain't a bad nickname."
+
+"Mac, hand over one of those toy sample bottles of California fizz," said
+the agent. "We'll put this craft down the ways in shape."
+
+Felton broke the neck off the bottle with a tack-hammer and poured the
+wine on the boy's head. "I christen thee Chescheela James Felton--may you
+become a good seaworthy craft, and not fill your skin with this stuff
+when you grow up," said he dramatically.
+
+The small boy squinted up his eyes to keep the wine out; then he shook
+the liquid from his hair, looked up and grinned.
+
+"Youse fellers is reg'lar kids," said he.
+
+"Lord, that's a great boy!" said the agent. "He's the oldest man in the
+crowd. Say, let's give him a white man's start, beginning with a bath."
+
+The whole party went to the barbershop and made the darky proprietor
+dispense a bath and a hair-cut for nothing.
+
+"Shave, sir?" asked the latter, when the hair had been properly trimmed.
+
+"No," replied the youth. "I t'ink I'll let me whiskers grow. Dere's enuff
+wind in dis country ter keep der moths outen 'em."
+
+Then they raided the clothing store, and abused the Hebrew owner until he
+reduced the price. "Oof der lodt--everyding, shennelmun! Sigsdy ber zent.
+Dere's no broffit left--it doaned bay fur the freight."
+
+"Look here, Sol! Will you swear that on a piece of pork?" demanded the
+agent. The Hebrew moaned.
+
+"Doaned dalk to me!" he cried. "My heardt iss prooken!"
+
+Clean, trimmed and clothed, Chescheela James Felton was a different
+looking boy. Months only could take those animal lines out of his face,
+and fresh air and wholesome food fill out the hollows of the cheeks, but,
+all in all, he was not a bad-looking youngster.
+
+Jim Felton bought some supplies for his camp, and prepared to start for
+home that afternoon, as they could yet make fifteen miles before dark.
+
+The new friends of the morning saw them off with hearty good-bys. The boy
+quite unexpectedly thanked them for their treatment and the money. The
+poor little soul had heard few words of gratitude, and had less chance to
+employ them.
+
+His speech was curious, but the generous big men saw behind the words,
+and felt really touched by the old-child's attempt to express himself.
+
+The two Jims soon pushed on, through the rolling foot-hills near the town,
+into the broken country. The boy kept watching, watching, but said little,
+until at last they came to the stupendous cliffs of Paha-Sahpedon,
+overhanging the trail with dark majesty. Jim happened to glance at the
+boy, and saw him looking up, mouth and eyes wide open.
+
+"Say, Mister!" gasped Ches. "Who built them!"
+
+"Built?" repeated Jim, puzzled. Then he understood. "The hand of God, my
+boy," he replied.
+
+The urchin shivered. "I feel's if dey was comin' ertop o' me," he gasped.
+"Let's hook it outer here."
+
+Jim spanked the burro, and they flew out of the Paha-Sahpedon at a
+canter.
+
+They camped that night in the spruces of Silver Creek, in one of the
+prettiest little places that ever lay out of doors. As they prepared the
+supper and ate it, sharing plate, cup and spoon, the boy was fairly
+ecstatic.
+
+"Dis is der bulliest ol' time dat ever I had," said he. "I didn't know
+dere was places like dis 'tall, 'cept Cintral Park. Yer can run aroun'
+here all yer like, can't yer, Mister? Nobuddy'll stop yer?"
+
+"Not if you ran a thousand miles, Ches. This is the free land, boy. You
+can do what you like." Jim spoke with warmth, for, although he felt that
+the child could not understand, yet the love of the country swelled in
+him so hot that he could never speak of it carelessly.
+
+"Dat's prutty damn good," responded Ches.
+
+"It is," replied Jim. "Now, Ches, will you do something to oblige me?"
+
+"Sure!"
+
+"Well, then, don't swear. I don't like to hear boys swear."
+
+"I won't cuss another cuss, if I kin help it. Dey'll come out too quick
+for me sometimes, but I'll try to do dat, now."
+
+"Thank you. Now, let's get the stuff cleared up and roll in."
+
+In the middle of the night Jim heard a strange noise, a puzzling sound he
+could not trace. Becoming wider awake, it resolved itself into a stifled
+weeping.
+
+"Hello there, Ches! What's the matter?" he cried.
+
+The boy flung himself into Jim's arms with a cry. "Ar, I'm scart to
+deat'," said he. "Take holt uf me, Mister! Take holt uf me! Dere ain't
+anyt'ing but you and me here 'tall!"
+
+Jim gathered up the trembling figure. "Nothing will hurt you, Ches," he
+said. "You're safe here."
+
+"I wasn't t'inkin' of gettin' hurted," retorted the boy, with shaky
+indignation. "Did youse t'ink I'd weaken fur dat? Yer don't know me, den.
+Dat ain't bodderin' me--I've been hurted plenty. I'm just scart, dat's
+wat's der matter."
+
+"Well, now, you cuddle right up in my arms, like a little puppy dog, and
+you'll feel all right."
+
+"Say, you're prutty good stuff, Mister Felton," whimpered the little
+voice. "Dis is der bulliest time I ever had, even if I am scart."
+
+"I think you're a brave boy, Ches. Now go to sleep."
+
+A small hand reached timidly around until it found the man's and gave it
+an affectionate squeeze. "Good night, sir," said Ches.
+
+Jim lay awake, thinking dreamily, long after the boy's regular breathing
+showed that he was at peace again. The man felt a tenderness for the waif
+so abruptly put in his care that only a lonely man can feel. He
+speculated about the boy's future; he wondered what kind of a man he
+would make. Surely, with a foundation of such courage, the better part
+could be brought out.
+
+Then he wondered what Anne would say to the adoption, or rather what
+advice she would give, for he felt entirely sure of her broad humanity,
+outside of their one difference. He felt the need of her practical sense.
+Soon he had drifted into thinking of Anne entirely. Not bitterly now, but
+with a steady longing. The gray light of the waning moon, sifting through
+the boughs, was the true lumina for reverie. Why had he not answered her
+letter? Perhaps by this time--
+
+What was that moving in the grass? He had noticed a sort of something
+before. He threw up his right hand in a threatening gesture, to frighten
+the intruder away.
+
+Instantly he got his answer, and an icy wind seemed to ruff his
+hair--that insistent, dry, shrilling sound that will make a man's blood
+turn cold if anything will--the whirring defiance of a rattlesnake!
+
+Jim thought quick and hard, with chills and fever coursing over him _ad
+libitum_. He did not want to waken and frighten the boy. He managed to
+slip his arm out without disturbing the sleeper. But now! There wasn't a
+club around except the short sticks of the fire. A two-foot stick is not
+the proper equipment for rattler hunting, except to those born with
+nerves so strong that they do not hesitate to catch Mr. Crotalus by the
+tail and snap his head off.
+
+Jim thought of the rope he had used for a cinch, and made for it with his
+eye on the snake, lest the latter should approach closer to the boy.
+
+With a deep thankfulness for the heft of the rope, he returned and struck
+with all the strength of his big body, and pounded away in a sort of
+crazy rage, although the first stroke had done the business.
+
+He snapped the sweat from his brow as he looked down at the still
+writhing reptile.
+
+"My God! What might have happened if the boy hadn't waked me?" he
+thought. The superstition of the miner rose in him rampant. "I believe
+that kid's going to bring me good luck," he said. "Darned if I don't.
+Well, I could stand some."
+
+He took up the body of the rattler on a stick and heaved it far away,
+then lit his pipe.
+
+"I don't think I care for any more sleep to-night," he laughed. "Like
+Ches, it ain't that anything will hurt me out here, but I'm everlastingly
+scared."
+
+He watched the night out, revelling in his enjoyment of the mystery of
+the coming morning, that phase of the day which never ceases to be
+unreal, and which calls out of the watcher sentiments and emotions he is
+a stranger to for the rest of the day.
+
+The sun hung on the sharp point of Old Dog-Tooth like a portent, before
+he woke the boy.
+
+Ches was all amazement for a second; then he gave a glad cry.
+
+"Gee! Yer still here, ain't yer? No pipe in dis." He looked all around
+him. "Say! Dis is a reg'lar teeayter uf er place, ain't it?" he remarked.
+"Dis is der scene where der villun almost gits der gent wid der sword, if
+der stage mannecher didn't send sumun ter help 'im out."
+
+Jim laughed at the sophisticated infant. "You don't believe in the
+theater much, then, Ches?"
+
+"Aggh!" replied Ches. "If it ain't seven it's 'leven on der stage--but
+it's mostly craps in der street."
+
+"Well, son, there are such points on the dice," admitted Jim. "But let's
+have something to eat and we'll feel better."
+
+Ches rustled around after sticks in his funny, angularly active style,
+singing a song the while from the gladness of his heart. It was a merry
+song, about mother slowly going down the hectic path of phthisis
+pulmonalis, and sister, who has--one is led to believe--taken to small
+bottles, small hours and undesirable companions, refusing to come home
+and lift the mortgage which is shortly to be foreclosed--all in the
+narrow confines of twenty-five verses.
+
+Jim listened to the inspiriting ditty in astonishment.
+
+          "'Bird of the wilderness, blithesome and cumberless,
+          Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!'"
+
+he quoted. "For Heaven's sake, child," he continued, in some irritation,
+"where did you learn that echo of the morgue?"
+
+"Don't you like 'er?" asked Ches, in his turn astonished at such a lack
+of taste. "W'y, dat's er gig in der city--everybuddy an' der ginnies wid
+der organs is givin' dat out all day long."
+
+"Well, let 'em," commanded Jim. "Don't introduce it to this part of the
+country. As you render it, through the nose, and with the wail at the
+end, it is a thing to make a strong man lie down and give up the ghost in
+sheer disgust. Ches, does it really make you feel good to sing it?"
+
+"Yessir--kinder," replied Ches hesitatingly.
+
+"Lord!" thought Jim. "What a life, to make a song like that a
+recreation!" Then aloud: "It's bad luck to sing before breakfast, Ches.
+I'll teach you a livelier song than that when we hit the trail again."
+
+So it came to pass that during the first miles of their day's journey the
+way was enlivened by the notes of _The Arkansas Traveler_, _Garry Owen_,
+_Where's My Linda-Cinda Gone?_, _Baltimore Girls_, and other songs of a
+lively character.
+
+Ches approved of these in moderation. Then Jim tried an experiment. With
+a serious face, but half an eye on the boy, he howled, moaned and grunted
+_The Cow-boy's Lament_, which still presents the insoluble problem of
+whether the words or the music are drearier. "OooooOOO!!! Pla-a-ay your
+fifes l-o-o-w-l-y, a-a-nd beee-eat your drums sl-o-o-o-wly, and play the
+dead m-a-arch as you carry me o-o-o-on!" mourned Jim. Ches was all
+attention. "For I'm o-o-o-nly a p-o-o-o-r cow-boy, and I know I've done
+w-r-o-o-o-o-o-ng!" wailed the singer, in conclusion. "How'd you like
+that, Ches?"
+
+"Say, dat's a ringer!" cried the boy enthusiastically.
+
+Jim sat him down by the roadside and laughed his fill. "I think you're
+hopeless," he gasped.
+
+The boy was hurt in a way he could not understand. Something pained
+him--a new sensation, of not being up to the requirements of another's
+view. His forced acute intelligence made a bull's-eye shot.
+
+"P'r'aps w'en I've got er chist and t'umpers on me like you, I'll like
+der udder kin' er song," he said.
+
+Jim looked at the pathetic little figure on the burro, and his conscience
+smote him. "That's right, boy," he replied very kindly. "I was only
+joking--ought not to be any ill feeling between friends over a joke, you
+know. Now, you sing ahead all you plenty please."
+
+"Don't say nuttin' more about it," replied Ches. "It's all square."
+
+A little farther on Jim noticed a piece of quartz outcrop with a metal
+stain on it. Now, a miner can no more pass such a thing than some others
+could refuse to pick up the pin shining at their feet, so he took a stone
+and hammered off a specimen for future reference. In the meantime Ches,
+on the burro, got around the turn of the trail.
+
+Suddenly the boy set up a shout of excitement. "Oh, Mister!" he yelled,
+with a string of profanity, his promise forgotten in his heat. "Come
+quick, an' look at der cat! Come quick, quick, quick! What a cat! You
+never see sich a cat!"
+
+Jim dashed forward. "Well, I should say cat!" he remarked, as he took in
+the situation. On a ledge about fifty feet above the road crouched a
+full-grown mountain lion, ears back, eyes furtively glimpsing every
+avenue of escape, yaggering at the intruders savagely.
+
+The small boy in Jim Felton rose on the instant. "Pelt him, Ches! Pelt
+him!" he cried, and let fly the rock in his hand by way of illustration.
+A wild animal seems to have little idea of a missile.
+
+The lion held his ground and let the stone strike him in the side. Then,
+with a screech like the vital principle of forty thousand tom-cat
+fights--a screech that left a sediment in the ear-drums of the listeners
+for the balance of the morning--he fairly flew up the straight side of
+the cliff, followed by a rain of projectiles.
+
+"Ches, we oughtn't to have done that," said Jim soberly. "If that fellow
+had been of another mind, he'd have made this the warmest day of our
+lives."
+
+"W'y! Will dey fight?" asked Ches, his eyes wide open.
+
+"They will that, son, sometimes," replied Jim. Then he launched into the
+tales of wild beast hunts, drifted from that to the romance of the gold
+field, the riches coming in a day--the whole glamour of it.
+
+Never did narrator have more attentive listener. There was a sort of
+white joy in the boy's face.
+
+"Oh, ain't I glad to git in dis!" he cried. "Here's just wot I been
+lookin' fur." Suddenly he struck Jim on the shoulder with a tightly
+clenched fist. "I made fur youse der first t'ing--didn't yer see me? I
+know me man all right. Der secont I put me peeps on yer I ses ter meself,
+'Dat feller won't t'row yer down, Chimmy'--ain't I right, hey? Ain't I
+right, Mister?"
+
+Jim patted him on the back. "I think you're right, old man," he said.
+"I'll do anything I can for you."
+
+"Yer don't hafter tell me dat--I know it," replied the boy. A sudden sob
+gathered in his throat and choked him. "Yer don't know wot I been
+t'rough, Mister--it 'ud laid out many er big stiff ten times me size.
+I'd--don't youse laugh at me now, becus I'm only a kid--I'd give me
+heart's blood fur youse, s' help me, I would, now!"
+
+"Shake hands, pardner," said Jim, his own voice a trifle hoarse. "We'll
+do fine together--I know we will."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+They crested the last sharp rise, and looked down upon the little cabin
+huddling in the spruces--an island of humanity in the beautiful sea of
+the wilderness.
+
+It seemed to Jim as if the small house brightened in appearance at the
+return of its soul; his heart in turn rose with a home feeling; his
+belief in the treasure which lay where the new channel cut across the old
+wash--that treasure which would make the world so different--came back to
+him like a renewed love. His hands ached for a grip on pick and shovel.
+His strong muscles twitched with eagerness to be at work again.
+
+Suddenly a ponderous and gross sound, out of all proportion to the size
+of its source, smashed the mountain silence into slivers. It was the
+burro's greeting to his companions, and the echoes fluttered it from
+cliff to cliff until it faded into the merest tint.
+
+"Kerissmus! How many of dem is dere?" asked Ches, astonished at the
+demonstration. At that instant the herd welcomed the returned one.
+
+The canyon was full of brays; colliding, rising, falling and swelling in
+a tumult of noise against which the dreadful shouting of the gods at the
+fall of Troy would have seemed as the wail of a kitten.
+
+"Say, I don't like dat!" said Ches. "What's loose?"
+
+Jim had watched the growing astonishment of the boy's face with
+suppressed emotion, but now he hugged himself and uproariously laughed
+his laugh out.
+
+"That, Ches," he replied, "is a matter of fifteen or twenty donkeys and
+an echo--did you think it was the end of the world?"
+
+"I t'ought it was gittin' on well past der middle, all right," retorted
+Ches. "What 'ud yer expeck of a man dat never heerd der like before?"
+
+"I knew what to expect. I never heard them either till I came out here. I
+was digging a hole up the side of that hill yonder, and had begun to feel
+that there was something behind me, and that it was almost time to go
+home, when old Jack, who has the voice of his family, poured out his soul
+about twenty rods away. I was half way home, Ches, before I got sand
+enough to go back and investigate. But now listen, and you'll hear
+something prettier than that."
+
+He put his fingers to his lips and whistled a bugle call.
+
+                  "I can't get 'em up,
+                  I can't get 'em up,
+                  I can't get 'em up in the morning,"
+
+sounded Jim. And back came the pretty reveille in a fabric of music,
+indescribably interwoven; sharp and staccato from the neighboring walls;
+the lightest of whispers from the distance, turning and twisting upon
+itself and starting afresh when all seemed still.
+
+"Say, dat _is_ prutty!" said Ches enthusiastically. "Hit her again!"
+
+"Young man, you can come up here whenever you feel like it in the future,
+but as for now, I'm for home and grub."
+
+"Dat ain't so bad, neither. Der animile's jumped me up an' down till I
+cud hold more'n a man. Dis spook's hang-out business won't quit, will
+it?"
+
+"No, sir; that's a fixture. Hang on tight now, and I'll race you to the
+cabin--one, two, three!" and away sprinted Jim down the hill trail, the
+burro lumbering after.
+
+"No fair! No fair!" yelled Ches. "Yer've got me skate doped! T'row us a
+tow!"
+
+Jim wheeled at the doorway and took in the excited, happy little figure
+bumping on the burro's back. For once in his life he had the satisfaction
+of an indisputable proof that he had done well. With a sudden access of
+affection he caught the boy in his arms and stood him on the ground.
+"Well, here's our home, Ches," he said.
+
+Home! The street Arab filled his puny chest, took a long, devouring look
+about him, and sought a definition of the word to make sound the lift of
+pride and hope that rose within him.
+
+"Yer mean nobuddy kin chase us out of dis?"
+
+"Nobody."
+
+"It's our'n!" the boy went on with curious vehemence. "Like dis here,"
+snatching an old knife from his pocket and shaking it in his tight fist,
+"ter t'row away, ter sell, er ter keep, and nobuddy got nuttin' ter say
+about it?"
+
+"Just that, laddybuck. That and nothing else."
+
+"No more slinkin' an' snoopin' aroun' dodgin' der coppers; no more
+stallin' fer der push; no more dirt of no kind--say, I can't git dat jus'
+in a minute."
+
+He stood grappling with the new idea. In the search an old one came to
+the top. His face changed rapidly. The furtive, hunted look returned. In
+a tone, the odd quiet of which contrasted with the former heat, he spoke
+again. "Yer for _me_, now, ain't yer, Jim? If--if der Gun should happen
+ter come here, yer wouldn't t'row me down at dis stage of der game?"
+
+The big man answered him with an equal soberness. He thrust a hand before
+the boy's eyes--a splendid hand, massive and corded at the base, running
+out to long, shapely, intelligent fingers, and every line in it spoke of
+power.
+
+"Do you see that hand, Ches?"
+
+"Yessir."
+
+"If the 'Gun' shows his face where that hand can get a grip on him, it
+will do the business for him in one squeeze, and if the hand can't reach,
+there's a rifle inside that can. Now get that out of your mind once for
+all."
+
+"Well--" said the boy, "well--aw, I'll be damned, dat's all I kin say,
+Jim," and rushed into the house.
+
+The miner leaned back and laughed, and blew his nose; and laughed again
+and blew his nose again; then he wiped the dust out of his eyes, swore a
+few words himself, and followed the boy within.
+
+The next day Jim started on his work in earnest. Before, he had sunk a
+hole here or there in the broad smooth surface of the bar of gravel that
+he felt certain hid his bonanza.
+
+Now, he determined to begin at the creek bank and drift straight across
+the bar. That meant six hundred feet of tunnel at the best, unless
+fortune was much kinder than she had hinted at before--quite an
+undertaking for one man, considering the timbering and all.
+
+It must have been a miner who wrote, that hope springs eternal in the
+human breast. Surely in no place other than the mines is the fact so
+manifest. There was once a man seventy-three years old who was sinking
+through a cap of cement two hundred feet thick. The stuff was just this
+side of powderwork, barely to be loosened with a pick. The old man had to
+climb down sixty feet of ladder, fill his bucket, climb up again and dump
+it, and so on and so on and so on. Besides, he had to walk thirty miles
+and back again with his load, whenever he ran out of provisions. It had
+taken him a year to put his shaft down the sixty feet. There was one
+hundred and forty more to go, each foot getting harder, the Lord only
+knew what would be at the bottom when he got there; yet to sit in that
+old man's cabin for an hour was to obtain a complete exposition of the
+theory and practice of optimism. It is an unbelievable story and would be
+senseless, were it not entirely true.
+
+Beside that effort, Jim's task took on the tint of an avocation, but the
+man who runs six hundred feet of tunnel single-handed earns whatever may
+be at the end of it.
+
+The tunnel was the one thing that Ches abhorred in his new surroundings.
+Whether it was that it reminded him of the dingy holes of his city life,
+or whether it was a natural antipathy, Ches was one of those who can
+never enter a confined space without the sensation of smothering--at any
+rate, neither argument nor coaxing could get him to put a foot within its
+dark mouth.
+
+An old miner would have shared his feelings in this instance, for Jim, so
+thorough in some things, was a careless workman. Your old miner would
+have shaken his head at the weak caps and recklessly driven lagging;
+frames out of plumb and made of any stick that came to hand--more
+especially as they were to support loose dirt of the most treacherous
+sort.
+
+Ches worked outside, dumping the car that Jim had made of four tree
+sections for wheels, and sluice-box boards for sides. Jim, the ingenious,
+had rigged up a pulley system, whereby Ches could run the car out and in
+without interrupting the work on the face.
+
+It was hard labor for Ches at first, but he gritted his teeth and stuck
+it out manfully.
+
+"Bime-by," he would say to himself, "I'll have er muscle on me like Jim,
+an' den I'll yank dis cussed ol' car right out in der middle of der
+crik," and he examined the small bunch on his arm critically a dozen
+times every day.
+
+Meanwhile, his hero and idol was outdoing the human in his exertions. The
+effort he put forth would have killed an ordinary man. He fought the
+stubborn earth as though it were an enemy. Stripped to the waist, bent
+over in the low tunnel, hour after hour Jim plied the pick and shovel
+with the regularity and power of a machine. There was at once something
+fascinating and heroic in the rippling glide of the muscles over his
+broad back, and in the supple swing that sent the pick to join the packed
+dirt.
+
+It all looked so easy. It was as if the dirt were very soft, and not the
+striker very strong. Nevertheless, fourteen hours a day of this, varied
+occasionally by cutting timbers and carrying them by hand to the
+tunnel--some of them a weight enough for a horse, others not adequate,
+"just as they came" being careless Jim's motto--told even on his engines.
+
+They had a certain mark on the canyon side--a wild-cat's hole it was--and
+when the sun threw the shadow of the western wall upon the mark, the
+day's work was finished.
+
+Ches used to watch this with attention. "Yer move along all right till
+yer gits half way up, den yer jus' crawls, yer ol' beggar!" was his
+standing remark on the progress of the shadow. Still, he always gave good
+measurement.
+
+Toward the last of the month Jim grew an interest in their clock.
+
+"Where's the blame thing now, Ches?" would come hollowly out of the
+tunnel.
+
+"Three more cars away, Jim,--jus' tippin' the white rock."
+
+Then the cheery shout of "All over!" and the worker stepping out into the
+fresh air, soft and cool in the twilight, hooking the sweat from his
+forehead, and wishing that supper would cook itself. Sometimes the
+wild-cat looked down upon them from his eyrie.
+
+"Ches," said weary Jim, "if that lad thinks at all, he must think we're
+awful fools."
+
+"He wouldn't be so tur'ble off his guess, neider," replied the equally
+weary Ches.
+
+After supper, however, the world seemed different. There was Jones's
+Hill--(a man of large ideas, was Jones, to call that mass of rock a
+hill)--shining red-hot in the last light against a topaz or turquoise
+sky, and the gulch that ran up to it in a mystery of dark green gloom
+offering up an evening prayer of indescribable odors--those appeals to a
+life in former spheres which no other sense remembers; the ceaseless roar
+of the wind in the pines, so steady that it formed a background for other
+sounds almost as good as silence itself; the evening pipe, and the talk
+of what had been done and what was to be done--all these made amends.
+
+And then the sleeping--such sleeping! And waking up in the morning in the
+exact attitude one went to sleep the night before! Sleep that washed out
+all the former day's fatigue, and started them as eager as hounds for
+that of the new day. That is, within limits, for, when a man overworks as
+continually as Jim had done, no paradise sleep nor balsam air can turn
+him right perpetually.
+
+And for that reason the claim declared a holiday, consisting of a hunting
+trip. It was a curious hunting trip. Not one "bang!" went the clean and
+polished rifle. They stalked four deer, crawling on their bellies,
+quivering with the chase, rounding behind rocks. Then when the game was
+within range, up went the rifle, Jim squinted along the sights--then
+dropped it.
+
+"What's der matter?" whispered Ches. He had been waiting for a long time
+to hear the gun go off.
+
+"They seem to be having a pretty good time by themselves there, Ches."
+
+"Yes--dat's so--but I've heard deer-meat was good." Ches was disappointed
+at this manner of hunting.
+
+"So it is," replied Jim, "probably nobody has that notion stronger than
+the deer." He followed the four pretty animals below them with tense
+eyes. He loved to hunt but he hated to kill.
+
+"See here, boy," he said, sitting down and pulling off his boots, "I
+think I can show you some fun--do you notice they're feeding up to that
+nose of rock? Well I used to be rather quick on my feet once, and I think
+if I can slip down behind there without their winding me, if one gets
+close enough I can catch him with my hands--which is a trick I'd like
+muchly to accomplish. Now you sit here and watch, and for your life,
+don't make a move or sound! By Jiminy! if I could do that!" He trotted
+light-footed down the slope out of sight.
+
+The boy soon saw him reappear behind the sharp rock-wall that jutted out
+into the valley, rubbing crushed pine-needles upon himself with the idea
+of overpowering the human odor, although, whether effective in its
+purpose or not, it was not necessary--a strong up-wind from deer to man
+making it impossible that they could scent him.
+
+They waited and they waited, a big man crouched like a tiger below, and a
+highly excited small boy above, while the deer did every exasperating
+thing that animals could do.
+
+They started straight for the rock, grazing along, and then for no reason
+in the world beat back on their tracks, or turned to right or left. They
+even went so far as to lie down, chewing most contentedly.
+
+One hour went by--two--when suddenly the buck rose and walked straight up
+the canyon in a course that would take him within twenty feet of the
+rock. Jim heard him snort and prepared for action, laying hold of a
+corner of stone to get a spring from all-fours.
+
+The deer's shadow floated black on the grass before him, and Jim
+leaped--to the biggest surprise of his life, for instead of making the
+least effort to escape, the buck charged, and that with such sudden fury
+it was all the man could do to lay hold of him anywhere as they came to
+dirt together.
+
+The next ten seconds was delirium, each combatant doing something as
+quick as he could without any definite aim. Jim received a painful rake
+across the chest from the antlers, and a jab in the leg from the sharp
+hoofs, while the deer was the worse for several bangs over the head and
+an ear nearly pulled off, as they rolled over together.
+
+It came over Jim with the force of a revelation that he had got into a
+very different business from that which he had intended. Instead of the
+"timid deer" whose capture was the difficulty, he found himself engaged
+with a horned and hoofed demon, and the problem was how to get away.
+
+Meanwhile, Ches had legged it down the hill-side at his best speed,
+enthusiastically cheering what he supposed was a prearranged performance.
+Jim had promised him fun, and that whirling heap below supplied plenty of
+it.
+
+"Hooray!" yelled Ches. "Hooray! Hold him dere, Jim, till I get down!"
+
+Jim heard the shrill voice, as he succeeded, after a desperate effort, in
+getting an arm around the deer's neck, so that he could do something in
+the choking line, and he smiled grimly in the heat of battle. "All right,
+Ches!" he gasped. "Don't--hurry!"
+
+"Keep out of this!" he yelled a moment later as Ches burst out from the
+bushes. "You'll get killed!"
+
+But Ches was not to be denied. He danced around the pushing, tugging,
+straining storm-center, and the moment opportunity offered, slipped in
+and seized the buck by a hind leg.
+
+If he had touched an electric battery, the effect could not have been
+more instant. The deer fanned that muscular hind leg, with its boy
+attachment, at the rate of seven hundred strokes to the minute. Poor
+Ches' head was nearly snapped off his shoulders, and the breath was
+literally jerked out of his body, but he hung on, with all the strength
+that pulling the car had given him.
+
+It was not much help, but it was a diversion. Jim gulped a lungful of
+air, gathered his powers and came down with all his might. Slowly the
+stubborn neck, bent--so slowly that Jim feared he would give out before
+gaining the mastery. As it yielded, his leverage increased, and at last,
+exerting every ounce of strength that was in him, he downed the foe and
+held him there, his leg over the front legs whose armament he had felt
+before, and was not desirous of feeling again.
+
+But the deer gave up the struggle, and lay quiet, looking up with great
+pleading eyes.
+
+"Yes, you devil!" cried Jim, "you look meek enough now, but if you
+weren't a handful of hard luck ten seconds ago I never ran across one.
+You hurt, Ches?"
+
+"I got a lovely t'ump on me smeller, but I'm in it yet--do I let go or
+don't I?"
+
+"Not on your life--wait a moment!" He worked his weight over on the
+deer's body. "Now!" he said. "Quick! Jump loose!" Again the deer glanced
+up reproachfully, as though to say, "How suspicious you are!"
+
+The instant Ches jumped clear, so did Jim. They watched their late
+antagonist, who sprang to his feet and went off with frisky leaps,
+apparently as fresh as ever.
+
+Then they looked at each other. Ches was rubbing his stomach with his
+left hand, while he wiped the blood from his nose with the right. Jim's
+coat and trousers were torn; he had a deep scratch across his chest, a
+gouge in his leg, and he trembled from the exertion.
+
+"Well--Ches!" he panted, "we've--had--a--nice--rest--haven't we?"
+
+"Wouldn't it 'a' been tur'ble if yer hadn't caught him?" replied Ches.
+And then they simply whooped.
+
+A good incident is an opal among gems in a lonely life. You can turn it
+over and over and always get new colors.
+
+On the home trip, as Nimrod Jim stalked along with his follower trotting
+beside, they rehearsed every detail of the unexpected encounter. Jim
+crouched and leaped again, giving his sensations when the buck did
+likewise. Then he waited while Ches ran down a side hill and threw
+himself upon a sapling, which for the time was a deer's hind leg.
+
+They were just of an age--any one would have said so, on seeing them
+approach the cabin, arms flying, tongues wagging, bruised, tired and
+happy.
+
+"Jim," said a very sleepy little boy after supper, gorged like an
+anaconda, "yer don't see t'ings like dat in N'york--not much yer don't. If
+dat racket had come off in der Bowery, dere'd be head-lines--'dlines--on
+der extries--more'n a mile--"
+
+Jim picked him up and tucked him into his bunk. "More'n a mile long--g'
+nigh'," sighed Ches.
+
+Jim lit his pipe and went out for an evening smoke. It was some little
+time the next morning before he could realize what he was doing out there
+under the tree.
+
+He had been in some ways a graver man of late. What he had undertaken as
+an experiment, a generous impulse, had been turned into a lasting
+responsibility.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+On the second day after Ches' arrival, Bud had come through with the
+mail, and before leaving, drew Jim aside, out of the boy's hearing.
+
+"The little feller's yours agin all comers now, Jim," he said.
+
+"What's that?" asked Jim, surprised by the meaning in the tone.
+
+"He's _yours_," repeated Bud. "That sweet-scented blossom that called
+himself the boy's dad, filled his skin with red-eye farther up the line
+and settled the fuss he had with his dame."
+
+"Hurt her?"
+
+"Man!" said Bud slowly, "he used a knife a foot long--gave it to her a
+dozen times as hard as he could drive--what's your opinion?"
+
+"Lord Almighty! Did he get away? But no, of course he couldn't, being on
+the train--"
+
+"He didn't get away. The Con. wired the news to Kimballs. What was he to
+do when a small army of punchers boarded the train and took the prisoner?
+He couldn't do nothing, and he never loved that black-muzzled whelp from
+the time he sassed him in the depot. The punchers took our friend out and
+tried him."
+
+"Tried him?"
+
+"With a rope. In three minutes by; the watch he was found wanting--your
+boy now, Jim, as I was telling you. Going to say anything to him about
+it?"
+
+"Why," said Jim, bewildered, "why, I don't know, Bud--guess not, just
+yet, on general principles. What do you think?"
+
+"Think you're right," said Bud. "The poor little rooster couldn't help
+but feel glad to hear the news, but it would sound kind of awful to hear
+a kid like that say he was glad two people were killed. Better wait till
+he's been with you a while, Jim, and learned something different."
+
+Jim flushed at the implied compliment. "You're right, Bud, I will."
+
+"Great little papoose, ain't he?" said Bud, turning in his saddle before
+his starting rush. "Makings of a man there, all right. The boys in town
+are dead stuck on him. I'll have to give a complete history when I get
+back. I must get a gait on, or I'll have Uncle Sammy on my neck
+again--inspector started out with me this morning."
+
+"The devil he did!" cried Jim indignantly, well knowing the hardships and
+dangers of the big rider's route.
+
+"Oh, it's all right!" replied Bud with a wave of his hand. "Come out
+fine. When the lad first told me he'd been sent out to see why the mails
+was so late on this line, I told him I'd show him right on the spot, but
+he said there was no use getting hot about it, as he was only doing his
+duty, so I quieted down.
+
+"He was a decent sort of feller. I thought to myself before we got under
+way, 'Now, there won't nothing happen this day--everything'll go as
+smooth and slick as grease, and this feller will report that I'm
+sojering,' that's the way it usually works, you know. But this time I
+played in luck.
+
+"Two miles out of town we ran into a wild-eyed gang from somewhere, who
+was going to make us dance. We didn't dance, and I'll say for that
+inspector that he stood by me like a man, but he was awful sick at his
+stomach later on from the excitement.
+
+"Next thing, the bridge was down at Squaw Creek, and we swum her. He'd
+have gone down the flume, if I hadn't got hold of his bridle. 'Nice mail
+route, this,' says he, as he got ashore. 'Oh, you'd like it,' says I, 'if
+you got used to it.' I'd begun to wonder what was next myself. Ain't many
+people swimming Squaw Creek, as you perhaps know.
+
+"Well, next was about ten mile along, just before you come to the old
+Tin-cup Camp. We was passing the bluff there, and all of a sudden, rip,
+thump, biff! Down comes what looked like the whole side a-top of us. It
+weren't though. It was only a cinnamon had lost his balance, leaning over
+too far to see what we was. That bear landed right agin brother
+inspector's horse, and brother inspector's horse tried to climb a tree.
+Inspector himself fell a-top of the bear. I dassent shoot, for the devil
+himself couldn't have told which was inspector and which bear. Finally
+bear shakes himself loose and telescopes himself up the canyon, the worst
+scared animile in the country. 'If you'll ketch my horse, I'll amble back
+again,' says the inspector. 'I've investigated this route pretty
+thorough, and find it's just as you say. Lamp-posts'll do me all right
+for a while.' Come out fine, didn't it?
+
+"Whish there! Untie yourself, you yaller bone-heap!" And the mail was a
+quarter of a mile up the trail.
+
+Jim pondered the information concerning Ches carefully, only to adhere to
+his original determination. He could not see any way in which the boy
+would be benefited by hearing the news. Still, the miner hated anything
+that savored of concealment or deception.
+
+"I wish Anne was here to help me," he thought; "she'd know what to do."
+
+He sat long, looking down, his hands clasped about his knees, drinking
+with old Tantalus. But the reverie ended as it always did--in action.
+There was nothing for it but the claim. Success there meant success
+everywhere.
+
+It was the knowledge that Anne, the boy, and all he wished to do for both
+depended on the pay-streak which had urged him to such a fury of effort.
+
+His carelessness of his own life, that led him to slap his timbering up
+any way, was born of that same fury. And the consequences came like most
+consequences, without a moment's warning.
+
+It was a still and beautiful noon. Ches had pulled out the last car
+before dinner, and started for the cabin.
+
+A curious groaning and snapping from the tunnel halted him. It was the
+giving of the tortured timbers. On the heels of that came a dull,
+crushing roar. A blast of dust shot from the tunnel-mouth, like smoke
+from a cannon, preceded by a shock that nearly threw the boy off his
+feet.
+
+Then all was still again. The sun shone as brilliantly as before, blazing
+down upon the ghastly face of a little boy, who, after one heart-broken
+cry of "Jim! Oh, Jim's killed!" sank down upon the ground, chewing the
+fingers thrust in his mouth, that the pain might make the black wave keep
+its distance.
+
+For Ches knew that he was alone; that there was no human being within
+miles to help the man caught in the hand of that mischance but himself,
+so frantically willing, but so impotent.
+
+"I must git me wits tergedder--I must!" and down came the teeth with all
+the strength of the boy's jaw. "Oh, what will I do? What will I do?" The
+little head waved from side to side in its agony, and a sudden sob struck
+him in the throat.
+
+After that one small weakness rose Ches Felton, hero. To the mouth of the
+tunnel he went. Above the tumbled pile of dirt and timber ran a sort of
+passage, between it and the roof.
+
+A way along which a boy might crawl and find out if all the frames were
+down--to which the silence of the tunnel gave a bitter assent--or if by
+some most lucky chance one or two had held, and Jim be safe within.
+
+Ches climbed to the top and thrust his head into the gloom. "Jim!" he
+called, "Jim!" No answer.
+
+Before him lay the ruin of his pardner's work. It was over this that his
+path lay, as deadly dangerous a path as could be found. The slightest
+disturbing of the roof above might bring down a thousand tons of dirt
+upon the one who ventured, slowly and hideously to crush his life out,
+there in the dark, beyond sight and sound of the cheerful world without.
+With this knowledge before him, and his inborn fear of the dark hole, as
+daunting as the hand of death itself, he took his soul in his gripe, and
+wormed his way within.
+
+Sometimes his back grazed a stone in the roof, and the touch of white-hot
+iron could not have been so terrible; sometimes a falling stone near him
+would make his heart leap and stop as he waited for the hill above to
+follow. Foot by foot he made it, twisting around the end of a post,
+scooping out the dirt most cautiously where the hole was too small for
+even his slight body.
+
+Once the sharp end of a broken piece of lagging caught in his clothes,
+and he could go neither forward nor back. There, for a second, he broke
+down. Bracing up again, he managed somehow to get the old knife out of
+his pocket and cut himself free.
+
+He could see little.
+
+A gray spectral light filtered in here and there that defined nothing,
+even when his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness.
+
+It was an endless journey. In places where the dirt closed in he would be
+a full minute progressing a foot, and a minute of such mortal terror as
+seldom falls to the lot of man of peace or soldier.
+
+But it ended.
+
+Suddenly the boy's outstretched hand encountered only emptiness below.
+That frame had held. He dove into the space head first, and landed on
+something soft and warm--the body of his pardner.
+
+He had found him. In a paroxysm of joy, he flung himself upon the
+motionless figure and cried his heart out. This, too, he soon conquered.
+Jim had just so much show--any delay might wipe it out. He searched the
+man's pockets until he found a match. By its light he saw the candle
+stuck into the post, and lit it. Then he knelt beside his pardner again.
+
+It was a curious picture within that gloomy chamber underground. The
+miner lying stark, stretched to his full great length, appearing enormous
+in the flickering candle-light, and the child, white-faced, big-eyed, but
+steady as a veteran, wiping the blood from the ragged cut in the man's
+head.
+
+Ches realized what had happened the instant before the calamity. Jim,
+startled by the noise of the yielding timbers, had made a rush, only to
+be struck down by the rock, that now lay within an inch of him; yet
+struck into safety for all that. Had he gone a yard farther, the life
+would have been smashed out of him instantly.
+
+But now, what? The flowing blood sent a sickening chill through the boy.
+Had he done this much only to be able to see his pardner die? He drove
+his teeth into his hand again at the thought. What was that? Was it a
+trick of the tunnel, his heart sounding in his own ears, or a rhythmic
+beat from outside? Hollow and dull fell that "clatter-clum-clatter-clum."
+
+"Bud!" screamed Ches, "T'ank God, dat's Bud!"
+
+After half a dozen efforts he climbed the dirt pile and went back through
+the treacherous holes. The rider came so fast! "Oh!" groaned the boy,
+"I'll never make it! Bud'll t'ink we're off somewheres an' pull
+on!--_Bud_! BUD!" he called at the top of his lungs; but the tunnel
+swallowed the little voice.
+
+Desperation made him entirely reckless. It was any way to get out before
+the mail-man was beyond call. Glairy with sweat, he pulled, tugged,
+squirmed and wriggled along, until a dirty, small bundle rolled down
+almost under the mail-rider's feet.
+
+"Whoa!" shouted Bud with an astonished oath. "What's the--why boy, what's
+the matter? Damn it! how you scart me!"
+
+One look at him froze the man; he said no more, but waited, watching the
+working face of the child, who was mastering himself once more, in order
+to tell a quick, straight story, that no time might be lost.
+
+"Der tunnel's fell in, Bud; Jim's in dere where der frame's held. He's
+livin' yet, but he's got a tur'ble cut in his head."
+
+The mail-rider drew out paper and tobacco, and rolled a cigarette. It was
+his method of biting his hand. He loved the man inside that dark blotch
+on the hill-side with an affection only known where men are few and
+strong. And because he loved him, Bud was going to keep his head cool and
+clear, to find the right thing to do and do it the right way.
+
+For all his calm outer man the mind within was whirling. He turned to the
+tense little face before him for help, and with an admiration that knew
+no bounds.
+
+"How far back?" he asked.
+
+"T'ree frames was held--dere was seven, ten foot apart--how much is dat?"
+
+"Forty feet--ten foot apart! No wonder! Oh, Jim! How could you have been
+so careless?"
+
+The boy's shoulders shook once. "He worked like er horse--now it's all
+gone an' he's in dere--" The face was contorted out of all humanity, but
+he held the tears back.
+
+Bud leaped from his horse. "Never you mind, Chessy lad!" he cried,
+hugging up the little figure, "we'll get him out of that, by God!--Could
+we haul him out the way you went?"
+
+"No, dere ain't room--an' if you touch dat roof hard--" he shuddered.
+
+Bud sucked in his breath. "If you weren't the sandy little man to try
+it!" he said. He stood a moment in silence going over it all.
+
+"Ches," he said, "there ain't any time to lose. If Jim's cut like that he
+may bleed to death in there when we could save him all right if we had
+him outside.
+
+"There's a party of miners down the road eight mile. They was having
+their grub as I went by. Chances are they'll be there yet. They've got
+four men and a team. I _could_ ride back, but I ought to be here working.
+Do you think you could stick on old Buck and ride there?"
+
+"I kin."
+
+"By God! I hate to do it--but there ain't any other way!" The big man
+ground his teeth together. "I hate to do it--damned if I'll do it!"
+
+Ches caught his hand. "I kin make it, Bud," he pleaded; "I cuddent do
+nothin' if I stayed here, an' you could do a heap. Put me up and let me
+try."
+
+"All right," said Bud. "The good Lord kept you from getting hurt in the
+tunnel, perhaps He'll see you through again. Shut your eyes and hold on
+tight when you strike the high places, and don't touch a rein--leave it
+all to old Buck."
+
+He stepped forward and caught the horse by the bit.
+
+"Buck!" he said, as though talking to a human being, "you and me have
+been through a heap together--don't fall down on me, now!--Take the kid
+safe, old boy!" He caught Ches up and threw him across the saddle.
+"You'll only have to tell 'em what's happened--the Lord send nothing
+happens to you! Good-by, you brave little devil--we'll win out yet. Go
+it, Buck!"
+
+And while one of Jim's friends plied pick and shovel like a mad man, the
+other was swaying on top of a galloping horse, gripping the pommel of the
+saddle with all the strength he had, and shutting his eyes when he came
+to the high places.
+
+Captain Hanrahan's party were miners of substance. They were working
+their way out to a new country to suit their inclinations. It had just
+been suggested that it was perhaps time to hit the trail again when the
+captain saw a figure on a horse flying athwart the mountain side--the
+regular road was bad enough, but Bud had short cuts of his own, and Buck
+followed his usual way.
+
+"Huh!" said the captain, "that man's drunk or crazy?"
+
+"Holy sufferin'!" gasped the man next him, as the yellow horse slipped on
+a turn and sent a shower of gravel a thousand feet below. "That was a
+near touch," as the horse caught himself and swept on.
+
+"Looks to me like a case of trouble, Cap," said a third speaker. "That
+ain't no man, anyhow--it's only a boy."
+
+"Horse running away with him, probably--his folks ought to be clubbed for
+letting him out on such an animal. Well, spread out, boys, and we'll
+catch him."
+
+But Buck stopped in two jumps, at Ches' command of "Whoa!"
+
+"Fren's!" cried the boy, "me pardner's caught in a tunnel dat caved in on
+him. Kin yer help us out? Three mile above Jones's Hill."
+
+He had not finished the sentence before two men sprang for the horses.
+The rest grabbed picks and shovels and hurled them into the wagon.
+
+"We'll be there, hell-a-whooping," said Captain Hanrahan.
+
+"T'anks!" replied Ches weakly, and then the world went out. The captain
+caught him as he fell.
+
+"Poor little cuss! He rid hard to help his pardner!" said the captain.
+"Hump yourselves, boys--all ready! Got the whisky, Pete? Picks enough?
+Stick the axes where they won't jump loose and cut a leg off some of us.
+Tie the horse behind--good animal, that. All right, let 'em go!"
+
+They went. Over stones and gulleys, the tools clanging and banging fit to
+leap from the wagon, the men clinging to the side-boards for dear life.
+
+Down hill-sides like the slant of a roof, the horses keeping out of the
+way of the wagon; up the other side with the reeking animals straining
+every fiber; over bridges that bent fearfully beneath the shock of their
+onset; swaying around curves with the wheels sluing and sparks flying,
+and over the level as though the devil himself were behind them.
+
+It was the record trip for eight miles in a wagon in that country. The
+driver stood up, a foot braced on either side, the reins thrown loose,
+the whip plied hard, and every urging that voice could give shrieked out
+by his powerful lungs.
+
+It was like the rush of a fire-engine, plus twice the speed, and twenty
+times the danger. Above the pounding of hoofs, the din of rattling metal,
+the crash, smash and roar of the wheels and the yells of the driver could
+be heard the man Pete, ex-cowpuncher, cheerfully singing,
+
+                  "Roll your tails, and roll 'em high,
+                  We'll all be angels by-and-by."
+
+Braced in the back corner sat Captain Hanrahan, his leg keeping some of
+the tools from going overboard, holding Ches in his arms.
+
+"Curse it all, Billy!" he screamed to the driver, "miss _some_ of them
+bumps, will you? I've got on a new pair of pants."
+
+"I'll take 'em clean off you the next time, Cap!" retorted the driver.
+
+They joked, which may seem heartless; but they risked their necks a
+hundred times, and that isn't very heartless.
+
+"That's the place, I reckon, Cap!" said the driver, pointing. "Somebody
+working there now!"
+
+"Give 'em a hoot!" replied the captain.
+
+Bud stepped out and held up his hand in answer to the yell. The wave of
+thanksgiving at the sight of this most efficient help took all the
+stiffness out of the knees of the mail-rider. The tears rolled down his
+face unnoticed.
+
+"You're welcome, boys," he cried, as the driver sawed the frenzied team
+to a standstill and the men sprang out.
+
+"Reckon we are," said the captain. "Now what's up?"
+
+"Is the boy hurt? Good God! He ain't hurt himself, has he?"
+
+"Naw; pore little cuss is used up, that's all. He'll be around all right
+in a minute. Now tell me, what's loose."
+
+Bud answered briefly, but completely.
+
+"Pete and Billy, get to cutting wood--the rest of you come here,"
+commanded the captain.
+
+"You ain't going to stop to timber, are you?" asked Bud in an agony of
+haste.
+
+"I sure am," replied the captain. "All this trouble's come of
+carelessness. Now you just keep your clothes on, and let me run this
+thing.
+
+"We'll have your friend out in no time, and there won't be no more men
+stuck in there with a hill a-top of 'em in the doing of it. What you've
+done there is a help all right, but it might easy have meant that we'd
+had two men instead of one to hunt for."
+
+"You're dead right," said Bud. "Tell me what I'm to do."
+
+The captain took hold as only a man can who has the genius for it. He
+knew by long practice what size of a relief tunnel meant real speed of
+progress--the least dirt to be removed to make it possible that men could
+work to advantage. And his tunnel, safely rough-ceiled, went in at the
+rate of a foot a minute.
+
+When at last they pulled the insensible man out into the light of day,
+and found that while his wound, though severe, and if neglected mortal,
+was not likely to be dangerous with good attention, the captain said that
+he must be getting about his business.
+
+"Oh, stay a little longer, fellers, till he comes to," remonstrated Bud.
+"He'd like to have a chance to say 'Thank you.'"
+
+"Bugs!" replied the captain. "You tell him he owes us a drink, and as a
+particular favor to me, please not to put his frames over four foot apart
+in that ground.
+
+"We're likely to be back here shortly, anyhow, because I think your
+friend has got hold of the right idea from what you tell me of his plans;
+but it'll take more'n one man to really prospect it. If we don't hit it
+where we're going, we'll sure come back."
+
+"Well, boys, _I_ can thank you and I'm going to," said Bud. "That man is
+my friend, and if you hadn't come as you did--"
+
+"Say, let go," interrupted the captain. "You'd have done the same thing
+if you'd been us, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Yes," admitted Bud reluctantly.
+
+"And you wouldn't want to be thanked for it a white chip more'n we do,"
+concluded the captain. "If there's any thanks coming it is to that little
+two-foot chunk of man yonder. Snaking over that fall was a thing to put a
+crimp in anybody. You was bound to help your pardner, wasn't you, son?"
+
+The boy looked up into the captain's eagle face. "I'd 'er got to Jim," he
+answered simply, "'f I'd had ter chew me way in like a rat."
+
+The captain stepped back and looked at him.
+
+"By the Lord!" he said slowly, "I believe you would!" A change came over
+the thin, arrogant face. He stooped suddenly, raised the boy and kissed
+him. "Now, get out o' this!" he roared at the driver, as he leaped into
+the wagon.
+
+They waved their hands as long as the miners were in sight, and stood
+staring until Pete's statement that they'd all be angels by-and-by was
+lost in the distance.
+
+"Pretty good folks when you're in trouble, ain't they, Ches?" said Bud.
+
+"What 'ud we have done, if dey hadn't come?--Ain't it 'mos' time Jim was
+moving, Bud?"
+
+"I'll give him another spoonful of whisky, but you can't expect him to
+start right up and hop around. He got an awful crack, boy."
+
+For all that, as the dose of strong liquor went down Jim's throat, he
+opened his eyes.
+
+"Hello, Bud! Hello, Ches!" he said wonderingly. "Have I been
+asleep?--Why, what the devil's the matter with my head?" he raised his
+hand to the spruce-gum bandage. "Phew! But I feel weak!" he sighed as his
+hand dropped. "Something's happened--what is it?"
+
+There, with a friend on each side holding a hand, they told him the
+story. It was a sacred reunion.
+
+The gratitude of the man saved, and the protestations of the others that
+they would have done all they did a thousand times again would only seem
+childish in repetition. They cried, too, which is excusable in a child,
+but not in two big men. Men don't cry. It is the monopoly of women.
+Nevertheless, Bud and Jim and Ches cried and swore, and shook hands and
+cried again until it was a pitiful thing to see.
+
+"Well," said Bud at last, "this makes you feel better, but it won't get
+the work done. I've got to go out and fix old Buck and get in some
+firewood."
+
+"Oh, I'll do that!" cried Jim, raising himself on his elbow.
+
+"You?" jeered Bud. "You look like it! Now, you lie right down there and
+get well--that's your play. It would make us feel as if we'd wasted our
+time if we had to turn to and bury you after all the trouble we've had.
+You're good for two weeks in that bunk, old horse."
+
+"Two weeks! I can't, Bud; I can't! I must get up before that!"
+
+"You lie down there--hear me?"
+
+"But I'll have to see to things around--you can't stay."
+
+"I stay right here till you're well."
+
+"But the mail?"
+
+"The devil take the mail--or anybody else that wants the job. Uncle Sammy
+won't hop on to my collar button, because of the fine send-off my friend
+the inspector'll give. And somebody will get orry-eyed up in town, and
+come down to find what's loose. He'll take the bags then. It's all
+settled."
+
+"But there are other things--"
+
+"Let 'em rest. Now I'm off to do the chores--oh, say, speaking of mail,
+here's a letter for you I forgot all about in the excitement--here you
+go. Come along, Ches, and help me carry wood."
+
+The miner looked at the letter in his hand, and a tinge of blood crept
+into his white cheeks, then ebbed, leaving them whiter than before.
+
+Suppose there were other men who wanted her; men with money, learning,
+wit and influence. Was this bitterest of blows to fall upon him when he
+was already down? He looked at his hands, green from loss of blood. "I
+tried," he muttered, "I tried."
+
+Still the very touch of the paper seemed to have something warm and
+heartening in it. It was from _her_, anyhow. With sudden strength he tore
+it open and read:
+
+  Dearest, Dearest Jim--I yield the whole case. You are right.
+
+  It is to my shame that clear-sightedness came from no source within
+  me, but from a brave example set.
+
+  My little cousin married the man she loved last week, and, of
+  course, Miss Anne was a high functionary.
+
+  Oh, what a stirring there was in me, Jim, watching them and thinking
+  of you!
+
+  They will be as poor as church mice, but they do not care, and
+  theirs is the wise economy.
+
+  Life is too short to waste, Jim, I see it now. I put it all in your
+  hands, dearest; if you can not come to me, I shall come to you.
+
+  I believe I'm only lukewarm by habit, not by nature.
+
+  I wish I could tell you how sorry I am for the time I have squandered.
+
+  I'll show you, that will be better.
+
+  Any time, or any place and no conditions now, Jim. That's all, my
+  dear brave lover. Good night.
+
+                                                     Your own, Anne.
+
+He was sitting bolt upright. Once more he devoured the letter. Then he
+sank back and closed his eyes.
+
+"Thank you, my darling, I can rest now," he said.
+
+The golden sunset light played in riotous joyousness on the cabin walls;
+the little creek laughed out loud; so did Ches and Bud, approaching the
+cabin. It was a beautiful and happy world.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MASCOT OF SWEET BRIAR GULCH***
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