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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6010cee --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52461 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52461) diff --git a/old/52461-0.txt b/old/52461-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f075215..0000000 --- a/old/52461-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,12698 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by Willis George -Emerson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - -Title: The Treasure of Hidden Valley - -Author: Willis George Emerson - -Release Date: June 30, 2016 [EBook #52461] Last Updated: August 2, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY -*** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously provided by Google -Books - - - - -THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - -By Willis George Emerson - -Chicago: Forbes & Company - -1915 - - - -Sons of the rugged, rock-ribbed hills, - -Far from the gaudy show - -Of Fashion’s world-its shams and frills - -Brothers of rain and snow: - -Kith of the crags and the forest pines, - -Kin of the herd and flock; - -Wise in the lore of Nature signs - -Writ in the grass and rock. - - -Beings of lithe and lusty limb, - -Breathing the broad, new life, - -Chanting the forest’s primal hymn - -Free from the world’s crude strife. - -Your witching lure my being thrills, - -O rugged sons! O rugged hills! - - - -DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER REVEREND STEPHEN LAFAYETTE EMERSON -(The Flockmaster of this story) - - - -CONTENTS - -THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - -CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS - -CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE - -CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES - -CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW - -CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO! - -CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN - -CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED - -CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS - -CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY - -CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE - -CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES - -CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND - -CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY - -CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING - -CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE NIGHT - -CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE - -CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE FRONTIER - -CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE WIDOW - -CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD - -CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING - -CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK - -CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD - -CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS - -CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR - -CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY - -CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY - -CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS - -CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS - -CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN - -CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY - -CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS - -CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE - -CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES - -CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO - -CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS - -CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL - -CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK - -CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS - -CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY - -CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE - -AFTERWORD - - - - -THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - - - - -CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS - -IT was a dear, crisp October morning. There was a shrill whistle of a -locomotive, and then a westbound passenger train dashed into the depot -of an Iowa town. A young man descended the car steps with an armful of -luggage. He deposited his parcels on the platform, and half expectantly -looked about him. - -Just then there was a “honk! honk!” from a huge automobile as it -came to a palpitating halt, and a familiar voice called out: “Hello, -Roderick, old man!” And a moment later Roderick Warfield was shaking -hands with his boon friend of former college days, Whitley Adams. Both -were in their early twenties, stalwart, well set up, clean-cut young -fellows. - -Whitley’s face was all aglow in the happiness of reunion. But -Roderick, after the first cordial greeting, wore a graver look. He -listened quietly while his comrade rambled on. - -“Mighty glad to receive your wire last night at the club. But what -brings you home so unexpectedly? We’ve been hearing all sorts of -glowing stories—about your being in the thick of affairs in little old -New York and rolling in the shekels to beat the band.” - -“Fairy tales,” was the laconic reply, accompanied by a look that was -compounded of a sigh and a wistful smile. - -“How’s that?” asked young Adams, glancing up into the other’s -face and for the first time noticing its serious expression. “Don’t -tell me you’ve struck a financial snag thus early in your Stock -Exchange career.” - -“Several financial snags—and struck ‘em pretty badly too, I’m -afraid.” - -“Whew!” exclaimed Adams. - -“Oh, I’m not down and out,” laughed Roderick, half amused at the -look of utter discomfiture on his companion’s countenance. “Not by -a long chalk! I’m in on several good deals, and six months from -date will be standing on velvet. That is to say,” he added, somewhat -dubiously, “if Uncle Allen opens up his money bags to tide me over -meanwhile.” - -“A pretty big ‘if,’ eh?” For the moment there was sympathetic -sobriety in the youth’s tone, but he quickly regained his -cheerfulness. “However, he’ll come through probably all right, Rod, -dear boy. It’s the older fellows’ privilege, isn’t it? My good dad -has had the same experience, as you will no doubt have guessed. There, -let me see; how long have you been away? Eight months! Gee! However, -I have just gotten home myself. My old man was a bit furious at my -tardiness in coming and the geometrical increase of my expense account. -To do Los Angeles and San Francisco thoroughly, you know, runs into a -pot of money. But now everything is fixed up after a fashion with no -evidence in sight of further squalls.” He laughed the laugh of an -overgrown boy laboring under the delusion that because he has finished a -collegiate course he is a “man.” - -“Of course,” he continued with a swagger, “we chaps who put in -four long years at college should not be expected to settle down without -having some sort of a valedictory fling.” - -“There has not been much of a fling in my case,” protested Warfield. -“I tackled life seriously in New York from the start.” - -“But got a tumble all the same,” grinned Adams. “However, -there’s no use in pulling a long face—at least not until your Uncle -Allen has been interviewed and judiciously put through his paces. Come -now, let us get your things aboard.” - -The conversation was halted while the young owner of the big 60 H. P. -car helped his chauffeur to stow away the luggage. “To the club,” -he called out as he seated himself in the tonneau with his boyhood -friend—college chum and classmate. - -“Not this morning!” exclaimed Roderick, shaking his head as he -looked frankly and a bit nervously into the eyes of Whitley Adams. “No -club for me until I have squared things up on the hill.” - -“Oh, well, just as you say; if it’s as bad as that, why of -course—” He broke off and did not finish the sentence, but directed -the chauffeur to the residence of Allen Miller, the banker. - -They rode a little way in silence and then Whitley Adams observed: -“You’ve made a muddle of things, no doubt,” and he turned with a -knowing look and a smile toward Roderick, who in turn flushed, as though -hit. - -“No doubt,” he concurred curtly. - -“Then when shall I see you?” asked Whitley as the auto slowed down -at the approach to the stately Miller home. - -“I’ll ‘phone you,” replied Roderick. “Think I can arrange to -be at the club this evening.” - -“Very well,” said his friend, and a minute later he had whirled away -leaving a cloud of dust in the trail of the machine. - -Roderick Warfield met with a motherly reception at the hands of his Aunt -Lois, Mrs. Allen Miller. The greetings over and a score of solicitous -questions by his Aunt Lois answered, he went to his room for a bath and -a change of clothes. Then without further delay he presented himself at -the bank, and in a few moments was closeted in the president’s private -room with his uncle and guardian, Allen Miller. - -The first friendly greetings were soon followed by the banker skidding -from social to business considerations. “Yes,” said Allen Miller, -“I am glad to see you, Roderick, mighty glad. But what do you mean by -writing a day ahead that a good big sum is required immediately, this -without mention of securities or explanation of any kind?” He held up -in his hand a letter that ran to just a few niggardly lines. “This -apology for a business communication only reached me by last night’s -mail.” - -The kindly look of greeting had changed to one that was fairly flinty -in its hardness. “What am I to expect from such a demand? A bunch of -unpaid accounts, I suppose.” As he uttered this last sentence, there -was a wicked twang in his voice—a suggestion of the snarl of an angry -wolf ready for a fierce encounter. It at least proved him a financier. - -A flush of resentment stole over Roderick’s brow. His look was more -than half-defiant. On his side it showed at once that there would be no -cringing for the favor he had come to ask. - -But he controlled himself, and spoke with perfect calm. - -“My obligations are not necessarily disgraceful ones, as your manner -and tone, Uncle, might imply. As for any detailed explanation by -letter, I thought it best to come and put the whole business before you -personally.” - -“And the nature of the business?” asked the banker in a dry harsh -voice. - -“I am in a big deal and have to find my pro ratâ contribution -immediately.” - -“A speculative deal?” rasped the old man. - -“Yes; I suppose it would be called speculative, but it is gilt-edged -all the same. I have all the papers here, and will show them to you.” -He plunged a hand into the breast pocket of his coat and produced a -neatly folded little bundle of documents. - -“Stop,” exclaimed the banker. “You need not even undo that piece -of tape until you have answered my questions. A speculative deal, you -admit.” - -“Be it so.” - -“A mining deal, may I ask?” - -Roderick’s face showed some confusion. But he faced the issue promptly -and squarely. - -“Yes, sir, a mining deal.” - -The banker’s eyes fairly glittered with steely wrathfulness. - -“As I expected. By gad, it seems to run in the blood! Did I not warn -you, when you insisted on risking your meagre capital of two thousand -dollars in New York instead of settling down with what would have been -a comfortable nest egg here, that if you ever touched mining it would -be your ruin? Did I not tell you your father’s story, how the lure -of prospecting possessed him, how he could never throw it off, how it -doomed him to a life of hardship and poverty, and how it would have left -you, his child, a pauper but for an insurance policy which it was his -one redeeming act of prudence in carrying?” - -“Please do not speak like that of my father,” protested Roderick, -drawing himself up with proud - -The banker’s manner softened; a kindlier glow came into his eyes. - -“Well, boy, you know I loved your father. If your father had only -followed my path he would have shared my prosperity. But it was not to -be. He lost all he ever made in mining, and now you are flinging the -little provision his death secured for you into the same bottomless -pool. And this despite all my warnings, despite my stern injunctions -so long as it was my right as your guardian to enjoin. The whole thing -disgusts me more than words can tell.” - -Into the banker’s voice the old bitterness, if not the anger, had -returned. He rose and restlessly paced the room. A silence followed that -was oppressive. Roderick Warfield’s mind was in the future; he was -wondering what would happen should his uncle remain obdurate. The older -man’s mind was in the past; he was recalling events of the long ago. - -Roderick Warfield’s father and Allen Miller had as young men braved -perils together in an unsuccessful overland trip when the great -California gold rush in the early fifties occurred. At that time they -were only boys in their ‘teens. Years afterward they married sisters -and settled down in their Iowa homes—or tried to settle down in -Warfield’s case, for in his wanderings he had been smitten with the -gold fever and he remained a mining nomad to the end of his days. Allen -Miller had never been blessed with a child, and it was not until late in -their married life that any addition came to the Warfield family. -This was the beginning of Roderick Warfield’s career, but cost the -mother’s life. Ten years later John Warfield died and his young son -Roderick was given a home with Mr. and Mrs. Allen Miller, the banker -accepting the guardianship of his old friend’s only child. - -The boy’s inheritance was limited to a few thousand dollars of life -insurance, which in the hands of anyone but Allen Miller would have -fallen far short of putting him through college. However, that was not -only accomplished, but at the close of a fairly brilliant college career -the young man had found himself possessed of a round couple of thousand -dollars. Among his college friends had been the son of a well-to-do New -York broker, and it was on this friend’s advice that Roderick had -at the outset of his business life adventured the maelstrom of Gotham -instead of accepting the placid backwaters of his Iowan home town. Hence -the young man’s present difficulties and precarious future, and -his uncle’s bitterness of spirit because all his past efforts on -Roderick’s account had proved of such little avail. - -At last the banker resumed his chair. The tightly closed lips showed -that his mind was made up to a definite line of action. Roderick awaited -the decision in silence—it was not in his nature to plead a cause -at the cost of losing his own self-respect He had already returned the -unopened bundle of mining papers to the inner pocket of his coat. - -“As for any advance to meet speculative mining commitments,” began -the man of finance, “I do not even desire to know the amount you -have had in mind. That is a proposition I cannot even entertain—on -principle and for your own ultimate good, young man.” - -“Then I lose all the money I have put in to date.” - -“Better a present loss than hopeless future entanglements. Your -personal obligations? As you have been using all available funds for -speculation, I presume you are not free from some debts.” - -“Less than a thousand dollars all told.” - -“Well, you have, I believe, $285.75 standing to your personal credit -in this bank—the remnant of your patrimony.” - -“I did not know I had so much,” remarked Roderick with a faint -smile. - -“All the better, perhaps,” replied the banker, also smiling grimly. -“The amount would have doubtless been swallowed up with the rest of -your money. As matters stand, some payment can be made to account -of your obligations and arrangements entered into for the gradual -liquidation of the outstanding balance.” Young Warfield winced. The -banker continued: “This may involve some personal humiliation for you. -But again it is against my principles to pay any man’s debts. Anyone -who deliberately incurs a liability should have the highly beneficial -experience of earning the money to liquidate it I propose to give you -the chance to do so.” - -Roderick raised his eyebrows in some surprise. “In New York?” he -enquired. - -“No, sir,” replied Allen Miller rather brusquely and evidently -nettled at the very audacity of the question. “Not in New York, but -right here—in Keokuk. Calm your impatience, please. Just listen to the -proposals I have to make—they have been carefully thought out by me -and by your Aunt Lois as well. In the first place, despite your rather -reckless and improvident start in life, I am prepared to make you -assistant cashier of this bank at a good salary.” Again Roderick -evinced amazement. He was quite nonplussed at his uncle’s changed -demeanor. The conciliatory manner and kindly tone disarmed him. But -could he ever come to renounce his New York ambitions for humdrum -existence in the old river town of Keokuk? He knew the answer in his -heart. The thing was impossible. - -“And if you are diligent,” continued the banker, “prove capable -and make good, you may expect in time to be rewarded with a liberal -block of stock in the bank. Come now, what do you say to this part of my -programme?” urged the speaker as Roderick hesitated. - -The young man’s mind was already made up. The offer was not even worth -considering. And yet, he must not offend his guardian. It was true, -Allen Miller’s guardianship days were past, but still in his rapid -mental calculations Roderick thought of his stanch old stand-by, Uncle -Allen Miller, as “Guardian.” He lighted a cigar to gain time for the -framing of a diplomatic answer. - -“Well,” said the banker, with a rising inflection, “does it -require any time to consider the generous offer I make?” - -Roderick pulled a long breath at his cigar and blew rings of smoke -toward the ceiling, and said: “Your offer, Uncle, is princely, but I -hardly feel that I should accept until I have thought it all over from -different points of view and have the whole question of my future plans -fully considered. What are the other items on your programme?” - -“They should be rather counted as conditions,” replied the banker -drily. “The conditions on which the offer I have just made are -based.” - -“And they are what?” - -“You must quit speculation, give up all expensive habits, marry and -settle down.” The words were spoken with all the definiteness of an -ultimatum. - -Again Roderick winced. He might have been led to all or at least some -of these things. But to be driven, and by such rough horse-breaking -methods—. never! no, never. He managed to restrain himself, however, -and replied quietly: “My dear uncle, the idea of marrying for -some years yet, to tell you the truth, has never entered my head. -Of course,” he went on lightly, “there is a young lady over at -Galesburg, Stella Rain, where my Knox college days were spent, the -‘college widow,’ in a way a very lovely sort and in whom I have been -rather interested for some two years, but—” - -“That will do, young man,” interrupted Allen Miller, sharply and -severely. “Never mind your society flyers—these lady friends of -yours in Galesburg. Your Aunt Lois and myself have already selected your -future wife.” - -He laughed hoarsely, and the laugh sounded brutal even to his own ears. -Allen Miller realized uncomfortably that he had been premature and -scored against himself. - -“Oh, is that so?” ejaculated Roderick in delicate irony. A pink -flush had stolen into his cheeks. - -The old banker hesitated in making reply. He grew hot and red and -wondered if he had begun his match-making too abruptly—the very thing -about which his good wife Lois had cautioned him. In truth, despite -the harsh methods often imposed on him by his profession as a banker, a -kinder heart than Allen Miller’s never beat. But in this new rôle he -was out of his element and readily confused. Finally after clearing his -throat several times, he replied: “Yes, Roderick, in a way, your Aunt -Lois and I have picked out the girl we want you to marry. Her father’s -wealth is equal to mine and some day perhaps—well, you can’t -tell—I’ll not live always and, provided you don’t disobey me, you -may inherit under my will a control of the stock of this banking -house, and so be at the head of an important and growing financial -institution.” - -Roderick instead of being fifty-four and calculating, was only -twenty-four and indifferent to wealth, and the red blood of his generous -youth revolted at the mercenary methods suggested by his uncle regarding -this unknown girl’s financial prospects. And then, too, the inducement -thrown out that under conditions of obedience he might inherit the -fortune of his uncle, was, he interpreted, nothing short of an attempt -to bribe and deprive him of his liberty. He flushed with indignation and -anger. Yet with a strong effort he still controlled his feelings, and -presently asked: “Who is the fair lady?” - -“The daughter of an old friend of mine. They live only a short -distance down the river. Their home is at Quincy, Illinois. Mighty fine -old family, I can tell you. Am sure you’ll like her immensely.” - -“Am I to understand,” asked Roderick rather caustically, “that the -young lady acquiesces and enters graciously into your plans?” - -“Well, I can’t say that!” replied Allen Miller, rubbing his chin. -“But your Aunt Lois and I have talked over the possible alliance in -all its lights.” - -“With the young lady’s family, I presume?” - -“No, not even that. But we are perfectly certain that we have only to -speak the word to put the business through all right.” - -“Business!”—Roderick repeated the word with bitter emphasis. - -“Yes, sir, business,” retorted Allen Miller, with some warmth. “To -my mind matrimony is one of the most important deals in life—perhaps -the most important.” - -“If the money is right,” laughed the young man contemptuously. -“But don’t you think that before another word is said about such a -matter I should have the chance of seeing the young lady and the young -lady a chance of seeing me?” - -The humor of the situation had brought a pleasant smile to his face. The -banker looked relieved. - -“Wait now, my boy,” he replied musingly. “Do you remember when -you were a little chap, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, going with -your Aunt Lois and myself to St. Louis on the Diamond Joe boat line?” - -“Yes, I remember it perfectly.” - -“Well, then,” continued Allen Miller, “you perhaps haven’t -forgotten a lady and gentleman with a little tot of a girl only five or -six years old, who joined us at Quincy. You engaged in a regular boyish -love affair at first sight with that little girl. Well, she is the -one—a mighty fine young lady now—just passed eighteen and her father -is rated away up in the financial world.” - -For the moment Roderick’s indignation over the cold-blooded, -cut-and-dried, matrimonial proposition was arrested, and he did not -even notice the renewed reference to finance. He had become pensive and -retrospective. - -“How very long ago,” he mused more to himself than to his Uncle -Allen—“How very long ago since that trip down the river. Yes, I -remember well the little blue-eyed, black-curly-headed chick of a girl. -It was my first steamboat ride and of course it was a holiday and a -fairyland affair to my boyish fancy.” - -He drew in a long breath and looked out through the window at the snow -which was now falling, as if many chapters of the world’s history had -been written in his own life since that far away yet well remembered -trip. He fell silent for a spell. - -Allen Miller chuckled to himself. At last his scheme was working. -All his life he had been a success with men and affairs, and his -self-confidence was great. He rubbed his hands together and smiled, -while he humored Roderick’s silence. He would tell his wife Lois of -his progress. Presently he said: “She is an only child, Roderick, -and I think her father could qualify for better than a quarter of a -million.” - -This time the reiterated money recommendation jarred unpleasantly on -Roderick’s nerves and revived his antagonism. He hastily arose from -his chair and walked back and forth across the room. Presently he halted -before his uncle and with forced deliberation—for his anger was keyed -to a high tension—said: “I am pleased, Uncle, to know the young -lady is not a party to this shameful piece of attempted barter and sale -business. When I marry, if ever, it shall be someone as regards whom -wealth will count as of least importance. True love loathes avarice and -greed. I require no further time to consider your proposals. I flatly -reject your offer of a position in the bank, and shall leave Keokuk -tomorrow. I prefer hewing out my own destiny and while doing so -retaining my freedom and my self-respect. This is my decision, and it is -an irrevocable one.” - -The ebullition of pent-up feelings had come so suddenly and unexpectedly -that Allen Miller was momentarily overwhelmed. He had arisen and was -noticeably agitated. His face was very white, and there was a look in -his eyes that Roderick Warfield had never seen before. - -“Young man,” he said, and his voice was husky and trembling with -suppressed rage—“you shall never have a dollar of my fortune unless -you marry as I direct I will give you until tomorrow to agree to -my plans. If you do not desire to accept my offer without change or -modification in any shape, then take the balance of your money in the -bank and go your way. I wash my hands of you and your affairs. Go and -play football with the world or let the world play football with you, -and see how it feels to be the ‘pigskin’ in life’s game.” - -With these words the old man swung a chair round to the fireplace, -dropped into it, and began vigorously and viciously pounding at a lump -of coal. There was an interval of silence. At last Roderick spoke; his -voice was firm and low. - -“There will not be the slightest use, Uncle, in reopening -this question tomorrow. My mind, as I have said, is already made -up—unalterably.” The last word was uttered with an emphasis that -rang finality. - -The banker flung down the poker, and rose to his feet. His look was -equally determined, equally final, equally unalterable. - -“All right,” he snapped. “Then we’ll get through the banking -business now.” - -He touched a push-button by the side of the mantel. During the brief -interval before a clerk responded to the summons, not another word was -spoken. - -“Bring me the exact figure of Mr. Warfield’s credit balance,” -he said to his subordinate, “and cash for the amount. He will sign a -check to close the account.” - -Five minutes later Roderick had the little wad of bills in his pocket, -and was ready to depart Uncle and nephew were again alone. - -“There is one other matter,” said the banker with cold formality. -“There is a paper in my possession which was entrusted to my keeping -by your father just before he died. I was to deliver it to you at my -discretion after you had attained your majority, but in any case on your -reaching the age of twenty-five. I will exercise my discretion, and hand -over the paper to you now.” - -He advanced to a safe that stood open at one side of the room, unlocked -a little drawer, and returned to the fireplace with a long linen -envelope in his hand. A big red splash of wax showed that it had been -carefully sealed. - -“This is yours,” said the banker shortly, handing it over to the -young man. - -The latter was greatly agitated. A message from his dead father! What -could it mean? But he mastered his emotions and quietly bestowed the -packet in his breast pocket—beside the papers connected with the -mining deal. - -“I’ll read this later,” he said. And then he extended his hand. -There was yearning affection in his eyes, in the tremor of his voice: -“Uncle, we surely will part as friends.” - -“You can regain my friendship only by doing my will. I have nothing -more to say. Good-by.” - -And without taking the proffered hand, Allen Miller turned away, leaning -an elbow on the mantelshelf. His attitude showed that the interview was -at an end. - -Without another word Roderick Warfield left the room. Outside the soft -snow was falling in feathery silence. At a street corner the young -man hesitated. He glanced up the road that led to his old home—Allen -Miller’s stately mansion on the hill. Then he took the other turning. - -“I guess I’ll sleep at the Club to-night,” he murmured to himself. -“I can bid Aunt Lois good-by in the morning.” - - - - -CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE - -ALLEN MILLER, the rich banker, was alone—alone in the president’s -room at his bank, and feeling alone in the fullest sense of the word now -that Roderick Warfield had gone, the youth he had reared and loved and -cherished as his own child, now turned out of doors by the old man’s -deliberate act. - -For full an hour he walked slowly back and forth the whole length of the -apartment But at last he halted once again before the open grate where -some slumbering chunks of coal were burning indifferently. He pushed -them together with the iron poker, and a bright blaze sprung up. - -Looking deep into the fire his thoughts went back to his boyhood days -and he saw John Warfield, his chum of many years. He thought of their -experience in the terrible massacre in the Sierra Madre Mountains in the -region of Bridger Peak, of a lost trail, of hunger and thirst and weary -tramps over mountain and down precipitous canyons, of abrupt gashes that -cut the rocky gorges, of great bubbling springs and torrents of mountain -streams, of a narrow valley between high mountains—a valley without a -discoverable outlet—of a beautiful waterway that traversed this -valley and lost itself in the sides of an abrupt mountain, and of the -exhausting hardships in getting back to civilization. - -Then Allen Miller, the flint-hearted financier, the stoic, the man of -taciturn habits, did a strange thing. Standing there before the blazing -fire, leaning against the mantel, he put his handkerchief to his eyes -and his frame was convulsed with a sob. Presently he turned away from -the open grate and muttered aloud: “Yes, John Warfield, I loved you -and I love your boy, Roderick. Some day he shall have all I’ve got. -But he is self-willed—a regular outlaw—and I must wake him up to -the demands of a bread-winner, put the bits into his mouth and make -him bridle-wise. Gad! He’s a dynamo, but I love him;” and he half -smiled, while his eyes were yet red and his voice husky. - -“Ah, John,” he mused as he looked again into the fire, “you might -have been alive today to help me break this young colt to the plough, if -you had only taken my advice and given up the search for that gold mine -in the mountains. Thank God for the compact of secrecy between us—the -secret shall die with me. The years, John, you spent in trying to -re-dis-cover the vault of wealth—and what a will-o’-the-wisp it -proved to be—and then the accident. But now I shall be firm—firm as -a rock—and Roderick, the reckless would-be plunger, shall at last feel -the iron hand of his old guardian beneath the silken glove of my foolish -kindness. He’s got to be subdued and broken, even if I have to let -him live on husks for a while. Firm, firm—that’s the only thing to -be.” - -As he muttered the last words, Allen Miller shut his square jaws -together with an ugly snap that plainly told the stern policy he had -resolved on and would henceforth determinedly pursue. He put on his -great fur-lined cloak, and silently went out into the evening shadows -and thick maze of descending snow-flakes. - -Meanwhile Roderick Warfield had reached his club, engaged a bedroom, and -got a cheerful fire alight for companionship as well as comfort. He had -telephoned to Whitley Adams to dine with him, but for two hours he would -be by himself and undisturbed. He wanted a little time to think. And -then there was the letter from his father. He had settled himself in an -easy chair before the fire, the sealed envelope was in his hand, and the -strange solemn feeling had descended upon him that he was going to hear -his dead father speak to him again. - -There was in the silence that enveloped him the pulsing sensation of a -mysterious presence. The ordeal now to be faced came as a climax to the -stormy interview he had just passed through. He had reached a parting -of the ways, and dimly realized that something was going to happen that -would guide him as to the path he should follow. The letter seemed a -message from another world. Unknown to himself the supreme moment that -had now arrived was a moment of transfiguration—the youth became a -man—old things passed away. - -With grave deliberation he broke the seal. Inside the folds of a long -and closely written letter was a second cover with somewhat bulky -contents. This he laid for the meantime on a little table by his side. -Then he set himself to a perusal of the letter. It ran as follows: - -“My dear Son:— - -“This is for you to read when you have come to man’s estate—when -you are no longer a thoughtless boy, but a thoughtful man. With this -letter you will find your mother’s picture and a ring of pure gold -which I placed upon her finger the day I married her—gold with -a special sentiment attached to it, for I took it from the earth -myself—also a few letters—love letters written by her to me and a -tress of her hair. I am sure you will honor her memory by noble deeds. I -loved her dearly. - -“I was younger at the time than you are now, Roderick, my son. Your -Uncle Allen Miller—about my own age—and myself planned a trip to -California. It was at the time of the great gold excitement in that far -off land. - -“The Overland Train of some two score of ox teams that we were with -traveled but slowly; frequently not more than eight or ten miles a day. -I remembered we had crossed the south fork of the Platte River and had -traveled some two days on westward into the mountains and were near a -place called Bridger Peak. It must have been about midnight when our -camp was startled with the most terrific and unearthly yells ever heard -by mortals. It was a band of murderous Indians, and in less time than -it takes to describe the scene of devastation, all of our stock was -stampeded; our wagons looted and then set on fire. Following this a -general massacre began. Your Uncle Allen and myself, both of us mere -boys in our ‘teens, alert and active, managed to make our escape -in the darkness. Being fleet of foot we ran along the mountain side, -following an opening but keeping close to a dense forest of pine trees. -In this way we saved our lives. I afterwards learned that every other -member of the party was killed. - -“We were each equipped with two revolvers and a bowie knife and -perhaps jointly had one hundred rounds of cartridges. A couple of pounds -of jerked beef and a half a loaf of bread constituted our provisions. -Fortunately, Allen Miller carried with him a flint and steel, so that -we were enabled to sustain ourselves with cooked food of game we killed -during the weary days that followed. - -“With this letter I enclose a map, roughly drawn, but I am sure it -will help you find the lost canyon where flows a beautiful stream of -water, and where your Uncle Allen and myself discovered an amazing -quantity of gold—placer gold. It is in a valley, and the sandbar of -gold is about a mile up stream from where the torrent of rapid water -loses itself at the lower end of the valley—seemingly flowing into -the abrupt side of a mountain. At the place where we found the gold, I -remember, there was a sandbar next to the mountain brook, then a gorge -or pocket like an old channel of a creek bed, and it was here in this -old sandbar of a channel that the nuggets of gold were found—so -plentiful indeed, that notwithstanding we loaded ourselves with them -to the limit of our strength, yet our ‘takings’ could scarcely be -missed from this phenomenal sandbar of riches. We brought all we -could possibly carry away with us in two bags which we made from extra -clothing. Unfortunately we lost our way and could not find an opening -from the valley, because the waters of the stream disappeared, as I have -described, and we were compelled, after many unsuccessful attempts to -find a water grade opening, to retrace our steps and climb out by the -same precipitous trail that we had followed in going down into this -strange valley. - -“We wandered in the mountains as far south as a place now known as -Hahn’s Peak, and then eastward, circling in every direction for many -miles in extent. After tramping in an unknown wilderness for forty-seven -days we finally came to the hut of a mountaineer, and were overjoyed to -learn it was on a branch of the Overland trail Not long after this we -fell in with a returning caravan of ox team freighters and after many -weeks of tedious travel arrived at St. Joseph, Mo., footsore and weary, -but still in possession of our gold. A little later we reached our home -near Keokuk, Iowa, and to our great joy learned that our treasure was -worth many thousands of dollars. Your Uncle Allen Miller’s half was -the beginning of his fortune. An oath of secrecy exists between your -Uncle Allen Miller and myself that neither shall divulge during our -lifetime that which I am now writing to you, but in thus communicating -my story to you, my own flesh and blood, I do not feel that I am -violating my promise, because the information will not come to you until -years after my death. - -“Since your mother’s death, I have made seven trips into the Rocky -Mountain region hunting most diligently for an odd-shaped valley where -abrupt mountains wall it in, seemingly on every side, and where we found -the fabulously rich sandbar of gold. - -“But I have not succeeded in locating the exact place, not even -finding the lost stream—or rather the spot where the waters -disappeared out of sight at the base of a high mountain range. On -my last trip, made less than one year ago, I met with a most serious -accident that has permanently crippled me and will probably hasten my -taking off. On the map I have made many notes while lying here ill and -confined to my room, and they will give you my ideas of the location -where the treasure may be found. To you, my beloved son, Roderick, I -entrust this map. Study it well and if, as I believe, you have inherited -my adventurous spirit, you will never rest until you find this lost -valley and its treasure box of phenomenal wealth. In Rawlins, Wyoming, -you will find an old frontiersman by the name of Jim Rankin. He has -two cronies, or partners, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest. These three men -rendered me great assistance. If you find the lost mine, reward them -liberally. - -“I have communicated to no one, not even your good Uncle Allen Miller, -that I have decided on leaving this letter, and the information which it -contains is for your eyes alone to peruse long after my mortal body has -crumbled to dust In imparting this information I do so feeling sure that -your Uncle Allen will never make any effort to relocate the treasure, so -that it is quite right and proper the secret should descend to you. - -“My pen drags a little—I am weary and quite exhausted with the -effort of writing. I now find myself wondering whether this legacy—a -legacy telling you of a lost gold mine that may be found somewhere in -the fastnesses of the mountains of Wyoming—will prove a blessing to -you or a disquieting evil. I shall die hoping that it will prove to your -good and that your efforts in seeking this lost mine will be rewarded. - -“With tenderest love and affection, - -“Your father, - -“John Warfield.” - -When Roderick reached the end of the letter, he remained for a long -time still holding it in his hands and gazing fixedly into the glowing -embers. He was seeing visions—visions of a Wyoming gold mine that -would bring him unbounded wealth. At last he broke from his reveries, -and examined the other package. It was unsealed. The first paper to come -forth proved to be the map to which his father had referred—it was -a pencil drawing with numerous marginal notes that would require close -examination. For the present he laid the document on the table. Then -reverently and tenderly he examined the little bunch of love letters -tied together by a ribbon, the tress of hair placed between two -protecting pieces of cardboard, and the plain hoop of gold wrapped -carefully in several folds of tissue paper. Lastly he gazed upon the -photograph of his mother—the mother he had never seen, the mother who -had given her life so that he might live. There were tears in his eyes -as he gently kissed the sweet girlish countenance. - -With thought of her and memories of the old boyhood days again he fell -into a musing mood. Time sped unnoticed, and it was only the chiming of -a church clock outside that aroused him to the fact that the dinner hour -had arrived and that Whitley Adams would be waiting for him downstairs. -He carefully placed all the papers in a writing desk that stood in a -corner of the room, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Then he -descended to meet his friend. - -“Nothing doing, I can see,” exclaimed Whitley the moment he saw -Roderick’s grave face. - -“You’ve got it right,” he answered quietly. “The big ‘if’ -you feared this morning turned out to be an uncompromising ‘no.’ -Uncle Allen and I have said good-by.” - -“No wonder you are looking so glum.” - -“Not glum, old fellow. I never felt more tranquilly happy in my life. -But naturally I may seem a bit serious. I have to cut out old things in -my life, take up new lines.” - -“I suppose it’s back to New York for you.” - -“No. Everything goes by the board there. I have to cut my losses and -quit.” - -“What a cruel sacrifice!” - -“Or what a happy release,” smiled Roderick. “There is something -calling me elsewhere—a call I cannot resist—a call I believe that -beckons me to success.” - -“Where?” - -“Well, we won’t say anything about that at present I’ll write you -later on when the outlook becomes clearer. Meanwhile we’ll dine, and -I’m going to put up a little business proposition to you. I want you -to buy my half share in the Black Swan.” - -“Guess that can be fixed up all right,” replied Whitley, as they -moved toward the dining room. And, dull care laid aside, the two old -college chums gave themselves up to a pleasant evening—the last they -would spend together for many a long day, as both realized. - -By eleven o’clock next morning Roderick Warfield had adjusted his -financial affairs. He had received cash for his half interest in the -Black Swan, a river pleasure launch which he and Whitley Adams had owned -in common for several years. He had written one letter, to New York -surrendering his holding in the mining syndicate, and other letters to -his three or four creditors enclosing bank drafts for one-half of his -indebtedness and requesting six months’ time for the payment of -the balance. With less than a hundred dollars left he was cheerfully -prepared to face the world. - -Then had come the most painful episode of the whole visit—the parting -from Aunt Lois, the woman of gentle ways and kindly heart who had always -loved him like a mother, who loved him still, and who tearfully pleaded -with him to submit even at this eleventh hour to his uncle’s will and -come back to his room in the old home. But the adieus had been spoken, -resolutely though tenderly, and now Whitley Adams in his big motor car -had whisked Roderick and his belongings back to the railway depot. - -He had barely time to check his trunk to Burlington and swing onto the -moving train. “So long,” he shouted to his friend. “Good luck,” -responded Whitley as he waved farewell. And Roderick Warfield was being -borne out into the big new world of venture and endeavor. - -Would he succeed in cuffing the ears of chance and conquer, or -would heartless fate play football with him and make him indeed the -“pig-skin” as his uncle had prophesied in the coming events of his -destiny—a destiny that was carrying him away among strangers and to -unfamiliar scenes? As the train rushed along his mind was full of his -father’s letter and his blood tingled with excitement over the secret -that had come to him from the darkness of the very grave. The primal man -within him was crying out with mad impatience to be in the thick of the -fierce struggle for the golden spoil. - -A witchery was thrumming in his heart—the witchery of the West; and -instead of struggling against the impulse, he was actually encouraging -it to lead him blindly on toward an unsolved mystery of the hills. He -was lifted up into the heights, his soul filled with exalted thoughts -and hopes. - -Then came whisperings in a softer strain—gentle whisperings that -brought with them memories of happy college days and the name of Stella -Rain. It was perhaps nothing more nor less than the crude brutality with -which his uncle had pressed his meretricious matrimonial scheme that -caused Roderick now to think so longingly and so fondly of the charming -little “college widow” who had been the object of his youthful -aspirations. - -All at once he came to a resolution. Yes; he would spend at least one -day on the old campus grounds at Knox College. The call of the hills -was singing in his heart, the luring irresistible call. But before -responding to it he would once again press the hand and peep into the -eyes of Stella Rain. - - - - -CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES - -ON the very day following Roderick Warfield’s departure from Keokuk -there appeared in one of the morning newspapers an item of intelligence -that greatly surprised and shocked the banker, Allen Miller. It -announced the death of the wife of his old friend General John Holden, -of Quincy, Illinois, and with the ghoulish instincts of latter-day -journalism laid bare a story of financial disaster that had, at least -indirectly, led to the lady’s lamented demise. It set forth how some -years before the General had invested practically the whole of his -fortune in a western smelter company, how the minority stockholders had -been frozen out by a gang of financial sharps in Pennsylvania, and how -Mrs. Holden’s already enfeebled health had been unable to withstand -the blow of swift and sudden family ruin. The General, however, was -bearing his sad bereavement and his monetary losses with the courage and -fortitude that had characterized his military career, and had announced -his intention of retiring to a lonely spot among the mountains of -Wyoming where his daughter, the beautiful and accomplished Gail Holden, -owned a half section of land which had been gifted to her in early -infancy by an unde, a prominent business man in San Francisco. Allen -Miller was sincerely grieved over the misfortunes that had so cruelly -smitten a life-long friend. But what momentarily stunned him was the -thought that Gail Holden was the very girl designated, in mind at least, -by himself and his wife as a desirable match for Roderick. And because -the latter had not at once fallen in with these matrimonial plans, there -had been the bitter quarrel, the stinging words of rebuke that could -never be recalled, and the departure of the young man, as he had told -his aunt, to places where they would never hear of him unless and until -he had made his own fortune in the world. - -As the newspaper dropped from his hands, the old banker uttered a great -groan—he had sacrificed the boy, whom in his heart he had cherished, -and still cherished, as a son, for a visionary scheme that had already -vanished into nothingness like a fragile iridescent soap-bubble. For -obviously Gail Holden, her only possessions an impoverished father and a -few acres of rocky soil, was no longer eligible as the bride of a future -bank president and leader in the financial world. The one crumb of -consolation for Allen Miller was that he had never mentioned her name to -Roderick—that when the sponge of time came to efface the quarrel the -whole incident could be consigned to oblivion without any humiliating -admission on his side. For financial foresight was the very essence of -his faith in himself, his hold over Roderick, and his reputation in the -business world. - -The afternoon mail brought detailed news of General Holden’s -speculative venture and downfall. Allen Miller’s correspondent was a -lawyer friend in Quincy, who wrote in strict confidence but with a free -and sharply pointed pen. It appeared that Holden’s initial investment -had been on a sound basis. He had held bonds that were underlying -securities on a big smelting plant in Wyoming, in the very district -where his daughter’s patch of range lands was situated. It was during -a visit to the little ranch that the general’s attention had been -drawn to the great possibilities of a local smelter, and he had been the -main one to finance the proposition and render the erection of the -plant possible. At this stage a group of eastern capitalists had -been attracted to the region, and there had come to be mooted a big -consolidation of several companies, an electric lighting plant, an -aerial tramway, a valuable producing copper mine and several other -different concerns that were closely associated with the smelting -enterprise. - -In the days that followed a Pennsylvanian financier with a lightning rod -education, by the name of W. B. Grady had visited Holden at his Quincy -home, partaken of his hospitality, and persuaded him to exchange his -underlying bonds for stock in a re-organized and consolidated company. - -By reputation this man Grady was already well known to Allen Miller as -one belonging to the new school of unscrupulous stock manipulators that -has grown up, developed, flourished and waxed fat under the blighting -influence and domination of the Well Known Oil crowd. This new school -of financiers is composed of financial degenerates, where the words -“honor,” “fair dealing” or the “square deal” have all been -effectually expunged—marked off from their business vocabulary and by -them regarded as obsolete terms. Grady was still a comparatively young -man, of attractive manners and commanding presence, with the rapacity, -however, of a wolf and the cunning of a fox. He stood fully six feet, -and his hair, once black as a raven’s, was now streaked with premature -gray which was in no way traceable to early piety. But to have mentioned -his name even in a remote comparison to such a respectable bird as the -raven rendered an apology due to the raven. It was more consistent -with the eternal truth and fitness of things to substitute the term -“vulture”—to designate him “a financial vulture,” that -detestable bird of prey whose chief occupation is feasting on carrion -and all things where the life has been squeezed out by the financial -octopus, known as “the system.” - -It developed, according to Banker Miller’s correspondent, that no -sooner had General Holden given up his underlying bonds of the smelter -company and accepted stock, than foreclosure proceedings were instituted -in the U. S. District Court, and the whole business closed out and sold -and grabbed by Grady and a small coterie of financial pirates no better -than himself. And all this was done many hundreds of miles away from the -home of the unsuspecting old general, who until it was too late remained -wholly ignorant and unadvised of the true character of the suave and -pleasant appearing Mr. Grady whose promises were innumerable, yet whose -every promise was based upon a despicable prevarication. - -And thus it was when the affairs of General Holden were fairly threshed -out, that Allen Miller discovered his old friend had been the prey of -a financial vampire, one skilled in sharp practice and whose artful -cunning technically protected him from being arrested and convicted of -looting the victim of his fortune. Holden had fallen into the hands of -a highwayman as vicious as any stage robber that ever infested the -highways of the frontier. The evidence of the fellow’s rascality was -most apparent; indeed, he was in a way caught redhanded with the goods -as surely as ever a sheep-killing dog was found with wool on its teeth. - -To the credit of Allen Miller, he never hesitated or wavered in his -generosity to anyone he counted as a true and worthy friend. That -very evening Mrs. Miller departed for Quincy, to offer in person more -discreetly than a letter could offer any financial assistance that might -be required to meet present emergencies, and at the same time convey -sympathy to the husband and daughter in their sad bereavement. - -“Lois, my dear,” the banker had said to his wife, “remain a few -days with them if necessary. Make them comfortable, no matter what the -expense. If they had means they wouldn’t need us, but now—well, no -difference about the why and wherefore—you just go and comfort and -help them materially and substantially.” - -It was in such a deed as this that the true nobility of Allen Miller’s -character shone forth like a star of the brightest magnitude—a star -guaranteeing forgiveness of all his blunders and stupid attempts to curb -the impulsive and proud spirit of Roderick War-field Yet sympathy for -Gail and her father in no way condoned their poverty to his judgment -as a man of finance or reinstated the girl as an eligible match for the -young man. He would have been glad of tidings of Roderick—to have him -home again and the offensive matrimonial condition he had attached to -his offer of an appointment in the bank finally eliminated. - -But there was no news, and meanwhile his wife had returned from her -mission, to report that the Holdens, while sincerely grateful, had -declined all offers of assistance. As Mrs. Miller described, it was the -girl herself who had declared, with the light of quiet self-reliance in -her eyes, that by working the ranch in Wyoming as she proposed to work -it there would be ample provision for her father’s little luxuries and -her own simple needs. - -So Allen Miller put Gail Holden out of mind. But he had many secret -heartaches over his rupture with Roderick, and every little stack of -mail matter laid upon his desk was eagerly turned over in the hope that -at last the wanderer’s whereabouts would be disclosed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW - -STELLA RAIN belonged to one of the first families of Galesburg. Their -beautiful home, an old style Southern mansion, painted white with green -shutters, was just across from the college campus ground. It was the -usual fate of seniors about to pass out of Knox College to be in love, -avowedly or secretly, with this fair “college widow.” She was petite -of form and face, and had a beautiful smile that radiated cheerfulness -to the scores of college boys. There was a merry-come-on twinkle in her -eyes that set the hearts of the young farmer lad students and the city -chaps as well, in tumultuous riot. Beneath it all she was kind of heart, -and it was this innate consideration for others that caused her to -introduce all the new boys and the old ones too, as they came to college -year after year, to Galesburg’s fairest girls. She was ready to fit in -anywhere—a true “college widow” in the broadest sense of the term. -Her parents were wealthy and she had no greater ambition than to be -a queen among the college boys. Those who knew her best said that she -would live and die a spinster because of her inability to select someone -from among the hundreds of her admirers. Others said she had had a -serious affair of the heart when quite young. But that was several years -before Roderick Warfield had come upon the scene and been in due course -smitten by her charms. How badly smitten he only now fully realized -when, after nearly a year of absence, he found himself once again -tête-à-tête with her in the old familiar drawing-room of her home. - -There had been an hour of pleasant desultory conversation, the exchange -of reminiscences and of little sympathetic confidences, a subtly growing -tension in the situation which she had somewhat abruptly broken by going -to the piano and dashing off a brilliant Hungarian rhapsody. - -“And so you are determined to go West?” she inquired as she rose to -select from the cabinet another sheet of music. - -“Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’m going far West. I am going after a -fortune.” - -“How courageous you are,” she replied, glancing at him over her -shoulder with merry, twinkling eyes, as if she were proud of his -ambition. - -“Stella,” said Roderick, as she returned to the piano, where he was -now standing. - -“Yes?” said she, looking up encouragingly. - -“Why; you see, Stella—you don’t mind me telling you—well, -Stella, if I find the lost gold mine—” - -“If you find what?” she exclaimed. - -“Oh, I mean,” said Roderick in confusion, “I mean if I find -a fortune. Don’t you know, if I get rich out in that western -country—” - -“And I hope and believe you will,” broke in Stella, vivaciously. - -“Yes—I say, if I do succeed, may I come back for you—yes, marry -you, and will you go out there with me to live?” - -“Oh, Roderick, are you jesting now? You are just one of these -mischievous college boys trying to touch the heart of the little college -widow.” She laughed gaily at him, as if full of disbelief. - -“No,” protested Roderick, “I am sincere.” - -Stella Rain looked at him a moment in admiration. He was tall and -strong—a veritable athlete. His face was oval and yet there was a -square-jawed effect in its moulding. His eyes were dark and luminous -and frank, and wore a look of matureness, of determined purpose, she had -never seen there before. Finally she asked: “Do you know, Roderick, -how old I am?” - -As Roderick looked at her he saw there was plaintive regret in her dark -sincere eyes. There was no merry-come-on in them now; at last she was -serious. - -“Why, no,” said Roderick, “I don’t know how old you are and -I don’t care. I only know that you appeal to me more than any other -woman I have ever met, and all the boys like, you, and I love you, and I -want you for my wife.” - -“Sit down here by my side,” said Stella. “Let me talk to you in -great frankness.” - -Roderick seated himself by her side and reaching over took one of her -hands in his. He fondled it with appreciation—it was small, delicate -and tapering. - -“Roderick,” she said, “my heart was given to a college boy when -I was only eighteen years old. He went away to his home in an eastern -state, and then he forgot me and married the girl he had gone to school -with as a little boy—during the red apple period of their lives. It -pleased his family better and perhaps it was better; and it will not -please your family, Roderick, if you marry me.” - -“My family be hanged,” said Roderick with emphasis. “I have just -had a quarrel with my uncle, Allen Miller, and I am alone in the world. -I have no family. If you become my wife, why, we’ll—. we’ll be a -family to ourselves.” - -Stella smiled sadly and said: “You enthusiastic boy. How old are you, -Roderick?” - -“I am twenty-four and getting older every day.” They both laughed -and Stella sighed and said: “Oh, dear, how the years are running -against us—I mean running against me. No, no,” she said, half to -herself, “it never can be—it is impossible.” - -“What,” said Roderick, rising to his feet, and at the same moment -she also stood before him—“What’s impossible? Is it impossible for -you to love me?” - -“No, not that,” said Stella, and he noticed tears in her eyes. -“No, Roderick,” and she stood before him holding both his hands in -hers—“Listen,” she said, “listen!” - -“I am all attention,” said Roderick. - -“I will tell you how it will all end—we will never marry.” - -“Well, I say we shall marry,” said Roderick. “If you will have -me—if you love me—for I love you better than all else on -earth.” He started to take her in his arms and she raised her hand -remonstratingly, and said: “Wait! Here is what I mean,” and -she looked up at him helplessly. “I mean,”—she was speaking -slowly—“I mean that you believe today, this hour, this minute that -you want me for your wife.” - -“I certainly do,” insisted Roderick, emphatically. - -“Yes, but wait—wait until I finish. I will promise to be your wife, -Roderick—yes, I will promise—if you come for me I will marry you. -But, oh, Roderick,”—and there were tears this time in her voice as -well as in her eyes—“You will never come back—you will meet others -not so old as I am, for I am very, very old, and tonight I feel that -I would give worlds and worlds if they were mine to give, were I young -once again. Of course, in your youthful generosity you don’t know -what the disparagement of age means between husband and wife, when the -husband is younger. A man may be a score of years older than a woman and -all will be well—if they grow old together. It is God’s way. But -if a woman is eight or ten years older than her husband, it is all -different. No, Roderick, don’t take me in your arms, don’t even -kiss me until I bid you good-by when you start for that gold’ mine of -yours”—and as she said this she tried to laugh in her old way. - -“You seem to think,” said Roderick in a half-vexed, determined tone, -“that I don’t know my own mind—that I do not know my own heart. -Why, do you know, Stella, I have never loved any other girl nor ever had -even a love affair?” - -She looked at him quickly and said: “Roderick, that’s just the -trouble—you do not know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you -won’t know until the other girl comes along. And then, then,” she -said wearily, “I shall be weighed in the balance and found wanting, -because—oh, Roderick, I am so old, and I am so sorry—” and she -turned away and hid her face in her hands. “I believe in you and I -could love you with all my strength and soul. I am willing—listen -Roderick,” she put up her hands protectingly, “don’t be -impatient—I am willing to believe that you will be constant—that you -will come back—I am willing to promise to be your wife.” - -“You make me the happiest man in the world,” exclaimed Roderick, -crushing her to him with a sense of possession. - -“But there is one promise I am going to ask you to make,” she said. - -“Yes, yes,” said he, “I will promise anything.” - -“Well, it is this: If the other girl should come along, don’t fail -to follow the inclination of your heart, for I could not be your wife -and believe that the image of another woman was kept sacredly hidden -away in the deep recesses of your soul. Do you understand?” There was -something in her words—something in the way she spoke them—something -in the thought, that struck Roderick as love itself, and it pleased -him, because love is unselfish. Then he remembered that as yet he was -penniless—it stung him. However, the world was before him and he -must carve out a future and a fortune. It might take years, and in the -meantime what of Stella Rain, who was even now deploring her many years? -She would be getting older, and her chances, perhaps, for finding a home -and settling down with a husband would be less and less. - -But he knew there was no such thought of selfishness on her part—her -very unselfishness appealed to him strongly and added a touch of -chivalry to his determination. - -Stella Rain sank into a cushioned chair and rested her chin upon one -hand while, reaching to the piano keys with the other, she thrummed -them softly. Roderick walked back and forth slowly before her in deep -meditation. At last he paused and said: “I love you, I will prove I -am worthy. There is no time to lose. The hour grows late. I have but an -hour to reach my hotel, get my luggage and go to the depot I am going -West tonight I will come for you within one year, provided I make -my fortune; and I firmly believe in my destiny. If not—if I do not -come—I will release you from your betrothal, if it is your wish that I -do so.” - -Stella Rain laughed more naturally, and the old “come-on” twinkling -was in her eyes again as she said: “Roderick, I don’t want to be -released, because I love you very, very much. It is not that—it’s -because—well, no difference—if you come, Roderick,” and she raised -her hand to him from the piano—“if you come, and still want me to be -your wife, I will go with you and live in the mountains or the remotest -corner of the earth.” - -He took her hand in both his own and kissed it tenderly. “Very well, -Stella,—you make it plain to me. But you shall see—you shall see,” -and he looked squarely into her beautiful eyes. - -“Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, “we shall see, Roderick, we -shall see. And do you know,” the twinkling was now gone from her eyes -once more and she became serious again—“do you know, Roderick, it -is the dearest hope of my life that you will come? But I shall love -you just as much as I do now, Roderick, if for any cause—for whatever -reason—you do not come. Do you understand?” - -“But,” interposed Roderick, “we are betrothed, are we not?” - -She looked at him and said, smiling half sadly: “Surely, Roderick, we -are betrothed.” - -He put his big strong hands up to her cheeks, lifted her face to his and -kissed her reverently. Then with a hasty good-by he turned and was gone. - -As Roderick hurried across the old campus he felt the elation of a -gladiator. Of course, he would win in life’s battle, and would return -for Stella Rain, the dearest girl in all the world. The stars -were twinkling bright, the moon in the heavens was in the last -quarter—bright moon and stars, fit companions for him in his -all-conquering spirit of optimism. - - - - -CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO! - -AS the train rumbled along carrying Roderick back to Burlington, he was -lost in reverie and exultation. He was making plans for a mighty future, -into which now a romance of love was interwoven as well as the romance -of a mysterious gold mine awaiting rediscovery in some hidden valley -among rugged mountains. Yes; he would lose no further time in starting -out for Wyoming. The winning of the one treasure meant the winning -of the other—the making of both his own. As he dreamed of wealth -unbounded, there was always singing in his heart the name of Stella -Rain. - -Next day he was aboard a westbound train, booked for Rawlins, Wyoming, -where, as his father’s letter had directed, he was likely to find -the old frontiersman, Jim Rankin; perhaps also the other “cronies” -referred to by name, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest At Omaha a young -westerner boarded the train, and took a seat in the Pullman car opposite -to Roderick. In easy western style the two fell into conversation, and -Roderick soon learned that the newcomer’s name was Grant Jones, that -he was a newspaper man by calling and resided in Dillon, Wyoming, right -in the midst of the rich copper mines. - -“We are just over the mountain,” explained Jones, “from the town -of Encampment, where the big smelter is located.” - -As the train sped along and they became better acquainted, Grant Jones -pointed out to Roderick a dignified gentleman with glasses and a gray -mustache occupying a seat well to the front of the car, and told -him that this particular individual was no other than the “Boss -of Montana”—Senator “Fence Everything” Greed. Jones laughed -heartily at the name. - -“Of course, he is the U. S. Senator from Montana,” continued Jones, -soberly, “and his name is F. E. Greed. His enemies out in Montana -will be highly pleased at the new name I have given him—’Fence -Everything,’ because he has fenced in over 150,000 acres of Government -land, it is claimed, and run the actual home-settlers out of his fenced -enclosures while his immense herds of cattle trampled under foot and ate -up the poor evicted people’s crops. Oh, he’s some ‘boss,’ all -right, all right.” - -“Why,” exclaimed Roderick, “that’s lawlessness.” - -Grant Jones turned and looked at Roderick and said: “The rich are -never lawless, especially United States Senators—not out in Montana. -Why, bless your heart, they say the superintendent of his ranch is on -the payroll down at Washington at $1800 a year. - -“Likewise the superintendent of the electric lighting plant which -Senator Greed owns, as well as the superintendent of his big general -store, are said to be on the government payroll. - -“It has also been charged that his son was on the public payroll while -at college. Oh, no, it is not lawless; it is just a dignified form of -graft. Of course,” Jones went on with arched eyebrows, “I remember -one case where a homesteader shot one of the Senator’s fatted -cattle—fine stock, blooded, you know. It was perhaps worth $100. Of -course the man was arrested, had a ‘fair trial’ and is now doing -time in the penitentiary. In the meantime, his wife and little children -have been sent back East to her people. You see,” said Jones, smiling, -“this small rancher, both poor in purse and without influence, was -foolish enough to lose his temper because five or six hundred head of -Senator Greed’s cattle were driven by his cowboys over the rancher’s -land and the cattle incidentally, as they went along, ate up his crops. -Little thing to get angry about, wasn’t it?” and Jones laughed -sarcastically. - -“Well, don’t the state conventions pass resolutions denouncing their -U. S. Senator for such cold-blooded tyrannizing methods?” - -“If the state of Montana,” replied Grant Jones, “should ever hold -a state convention of its representative people—the bone and sinew of -its sovereign citizens, why, they would not only retire Senator Greed to -private life, but they would consign him to the warmer regions.” - -“You surprise me,” replied Roderick. “I supposed that every state -held conventions—delegates you know, from each county.” - -“They think they do,” said Jones, winking one eye, “but they are -only ratification meetings. The ‘Boss,’”he continued, nodding -his head towards Senator Greed, “has his faithful lieutenants in each -precinct of every county. His henchmen select the alleged delegates and -when they all get together in a so-called state convention they are by -pre-arrangement program men. The slate is fixed up by the ‘Boss’ -and is duly ratified without a hitch. Therefore instead of being -a convention representing the people it is a great big farce—a -ratification picnic where ‘plums’ are dealt out and the ears of any -who become fractious duly cuffed.” - -At Grand Island in the afternoon, during a stop while engines were -changed, Roderick left the train and stretched his legs by walking up -and down the depot platform. Here he saw Grant Jones in a new rôle. -Notwithstanding Jones was in rough western garb—khaki Norfolk coat, -trousers to match, and leather leggings—yet he was the center of -attraction for a bevy of young ladies. Two of these in particular were -remarkable for their beauty; both had the same burnished golden hair -and large brown eyes; they were almost identical in height and figure, -petite and graceful, dressed alike, so that anyone at a first glance -would have recognized them to be not only sisters but doubtless twins. - -When the train was about ready to start, these two girls bade adieu to -their numerous friends and permitted Grant Jones with all the gallantry -of a Beau Brummel to assist them onto the car. - -Later Grant Jones took great pains to assure Roderick that it was -a pleasure to introduce him to the Misses Barbara and Dorothy -Shields—“Two of our’ mountain wild flowers,” Grant said, -laughing pleasantly, “who reside with their people way over south in -the Wyoming hills, not far from Encampment, on one of the biggest cattle -ranges in the state.” - -Roderick, already captivated by the whole-souled, frank manner of Grant -Jones, now found himself much interested in the beautiful twin sisters -as well. Hour followed hour in bright and sprightly conversation, and -soon the tenderfoot who had been inclined to condole with himself as a -lonely stranger among strangers was feeling quite at home in the great -western world of hospitable welcome and good comradeship. - -At an early hour next morning Grant Jones, the Shields girls and a dozen -other people left the train at the little town of Walcott. They extended -hearty invitations for Roderick to come over to southern Wyoming to see -the country, its great mines and the big smelter. “If you pay us a -visit,” said Grant Jones, laughing, “I’ll promise you a fine -big personal in the Dillon Doublejack, of which mighty organ of public -opinion I have the honor to be editor.” - -Roderick, with a bow of due reverence for his editorial majesty and a -bright smile for the sisters, promised that he likely would make the -trip before very long. Then he swung himself onto the already moving -train and continued his westward journey to Rawlins. - - - - -CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN - -IT was seven o’clock the same morning when Roderick left the train at -Rawlins. - -The raw, cold wind was blowing a terrific gale, the streets were -deserted save for a few half drunken stragglers who had been making a -night of it, going the rounds of saloons and gambling dens. - -A bright-faced lad took charge of the mail bags, threw them into a push -cart and started rumbling away up the street. Warfield followed and -coming up with him inquired for a hotel. - -“Right over there is the Ferris House,” said the young fellow, -nodding his head in the direction indicated. - -As Roderick approached the hotel he met a grizzled keen-eyed -frontiersman who saluted him with a friendly “Hello, partner, you be a -stranger in these yere parts, I’m assoomin’.” - -“Yes, I just arrived on this morning’s train.” - -“Waal, my handle is Jim Rankin. Been prospectin’ the range -hereabouts nigh thirty years; uster be sheriff of this yere county -when people wuz hostile a plenty—have the best livery stable today -in Wyomin’, and always glad to see strangers loiterin’ ‘round and -help ‘em to git their bearin’s if I can be of service—you bet I -am.” - -Thus early had Roderick encountered his father’s old friend. He was -delighted, but for the present kept his own counsel. A more fitting time -and place must be found to tell the reason of his coming. - -“Thank you,” he contented himself with saying as he accepted the -frontiersman’s hand of welcome; “glad to meet you, Mr. Rankin.” - -“Here, boy,” shouted the latter to an attache of the hotel, -“take care of this yere baggage; it belongs to this yere gentleman, a -dangnation good friend uv mine. He’ll be back soon fur breakfast. Come -on, stranger, let’s go over to Wren’s. I’m as dry as a fish.” - -Roderick smiled and turning about, accompanied his new discovery down -the street to Wren’s. As they walked along Rankin said: “Here’s my -barn and here’s the alley. We’ll turn in here and get into Wren’s -by the back door. I never pester the front door. Lots uv fellers git -a heap careless with their artillery on front steps that are docile -‘nuff inside.” As they passed through a back gate, Jim Rankin, the -typical old-time westerner, pushed his hat well back on his head, fished -out of his pocket a pouch of “fine cut” tobacco, and stowing away a -large wad in his mouth began masticating rapidly, like an automobile -on the low gear. Between vigorous “chaws” he observed that the -sun would be up in a “minute” and then the wind would go down. -“Strange but true as gospel,” he chuckled—perhaps at his superior -knowledge of the West—“when the sun comes up the wind goes down.” - -He expectorated a huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at an old ash barrel, -wiped his iron gray mustache with the back of his hand, pushed open the -back door of the saloon and invited Roderick to enter. - -A fire was burning briskly in a round sheet iron stove, and a half dozen -wooden-backed chairs were distributed about a round-topped table covered -with a green cloth. - -Rankin touched a press button, and when a white-aproned waiter responded -and stood with a silent look of inquiry on his face the frontiersman -cleared his throat and said: “A dry Martini fur me; what pizen do you -nominate, partner?” - -“Same,” was Roderick’s rather abbreviated reply as he took in the -surroundings with a furtive glance. - -As soon as the waiter retired to fill the orders, Roderick’s new found -friend pulled a coal scuttle close to his chair to serve as a receptacle -for his tobacco expectorations, and began: “You see, speakin’ wide -open like, I know all these yere fellers—know ‘em like a book. Out -at the bar in front is a lot uv booze-fightin’ sheep herders makin’ -things gay and genial, mixin’ up with a lot uv discharged railroad -men. Been makin’ some big shipments uv sheep east, lately, and when -they get tumultuous like with a whole night’s jag of red liquor under -their belt, they forgit about the true artickle uv manhood and I cut -‘em out. Hope they’ll get away afore the cattle men come in from -over north, otherwise there’ll be plenty uv ugly shootin’. Last year -we made seven new graves back there,” and he jerked his thumb over his -shoulder, “seven graves as a result uv a lot uv sheep herders and cow -punchers tryin’ to do the perlite thing here at Wren’s parlors the -same night They got to shootin’ in a onrestrained fashion and a heap -careless. You bet if I wuz sheriff uv this yere county agin I’d see -to it that law and order had the long end uv the stick—though I -must allow they did git hostile and hang Big Nose George when I wuz in -office,” he added after a pause. Then he chuckled quietly to himself, -for the moment lost in retrospection. - -Presently the waiter brought in the drinks and when he retired Rankin -got up very cautiously, tried the door to see if it was tightly shut. -Coming back to the table and seating himself he lifted his glass, -but before drinking said: “Say, pard, I don’t want to be too -presumin’, but what’s your handle?” - -Roderick felt that the proper moment had arrived, and went straight to -his story. - -“My name is Roderick Warfield. I am the son of John Warfield with whom -I believe you had some acquaintance a number of years ago. My father is -dead, as you doubtless may have heard—died some fourteen years since. -He left a letter for me which only recently came into my possession, -and in the letter he spoke of three men—Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney -Earnest.” - -As Roderick was speaking, the frontiersman reverently returned his -cocktail to the table. - -“Geewhillikins!” he exclaimed, “you the son uv John Warfield! -Well, I’ll be jiggered. This just nachurly gits on my wind. Shake, -young man.” And Jim Rankin gave Roderick’s hand the clinch of a -vise; “I’m a mighty sight more than delighted to see you, and you -can count on my advice and help, every day in the week and Sundays -thrown in. As you’re a stranger in these parts, I’m assoomin’ -you’ll need it a plenty, you bet. Gee, but I’m as glad to see you -as I’d be to see a brother. Let’s drink to the memory uv your good -father.” - -He again lifted his cocktail and Roderick joined him by picking up a -side glass of water. - -“What?” asked Rankin, “not drinkin’ yer cocktail? What’s -squirmin’ in yer vitals?” - -“I drink nothing stronger than water,” replied Roderick, looking -his father’s old friend squarely in the eyes. Thus early in their -association he was glad to settle this issue once and for all time. - -“Shake again,” said Rankin, after tossing off his drink at a single -swallow and setting down his empty glass, “you sure ‘nuff are the -son uv John Warfield. Wuz with him off and on fur many a year and he -never drank spirits under no circumstances. You bet I wuz just nachurly -so dangnation flabbergasted at meetin’ yer I got plumb locoed and sure -did fergit. Boney and Tom and me often speak uv him to this day, and -they’ll be dangnation glad to see you.” - -“So you’re all three still in the ring?” queried Roderick with a -smile. - -“Bet yer life,” replied Rankin sturdily. “Why, Tom Sun and Boney -Earnest and me have been chums fur nigh on to thirty years. They’re -the best scouts that ever hunted in the hills. They’re the chaps who -put up my name at the convenshun, got me nominated and then elected me -sheriff of this yere county over twenty-five years ago. Gosh but -I’m certainly glad to see yer and that’s my attitood.” He smiled -broadly. - -“Now, Warfield,” he continued, “what yer out here fur? But first, -hold on a minute afore yer prognosticate yer answer. Just shove that -‘tother cocktail over this way—dangnation afeerd you’ll spill it; -no use letting it go to waste.” - -“I’ve come,” replied Roderick, smiling and pushing the cocktail -across to Jim Rankin, “to grow up with the country. A young fellow -when he gets through college days has got to get out and do something, -and some way I’ve drifted out to Wyoming to try and make a start. I -have lots of good health, but precious little money.” - -Jim Rankin drank the remaining cocktail, pulled his chair a little -closer to Roderick’s and spoke in a stage whisper: “You know, I’m -assoomin’, what yer father was huntin’ fur when he got hurt?” - -Roderick flushed slightly and remained silent for a moment. Was it -possible that his father’s old friend, Jim Rankin, knew of the lost -mine? Finally he replied: “Well, yes, I know in a general way.” - -“Don’t speak too dangnation loud,” enjoined Rankin. “Come on and -we’ll hike out uv this and go into one uv the back stalls uv my livery -stable. This’s no place to talk about sich things—even walls have -ears.” - -As they went out again by the back door the morning sun was looking at -them from the rim of the eastern hills. Side by side and in silence they -walked along the alley to the street, then turned and went into a big -barn-like building bearing a sign-board inscribed: “Rankin’s Livery, -Feed and Sale Stable.” - -Although there was not a soul in sight, Rankin led his new acquaintance -far back to the rear of the building. As they passed, a dozen or more -horses whinnied, impatient for their morning feed. - -Cautiously and without a word being spoken they went into an empty stall -in a far corner, and there in a deep whisper, Rankin said: “I know -the hull shootin’ match about that ‘ere lost gold mine, but Tom and -Boney don’t—they’ve been peevish, good and plenty, two or three -different times thinkin’ I know’d suthin’ they didn’t. Not a -blamed thing does anybody know but me, you bet I went with your father -on three different trips, but we didn’t quite locate the place. I -believe it’s on Jack Creek or Cow Creek—maybe furder over—don’t -know which, somewhere this side or t’other side of Encampment River. -You kin bet big money I kin help a heap—a mighty lot But say nothin’ -to nobody—specially to these soopercilious high-steppin’ chaps -‘round here—not a dangnation word—keep it mum. This is a -razzle-dazzle just ‘tween you an’ me, young man.” - -A silence followed, and the two stood there looking at each other. -Presently Roderick said: “I believe I’ll go over to the hotel and -get some breakfast; this western air gives one a ravenous appetite.” - -Then they both laughed a little as if anxious to relieve an embarrassing -situation, and went out to the street together. Jim knew in his heart -he had been outclassed; he had shown his whole hand, the other not one -single card. - -“All right,” Rankin finally said, as if an invitation had been -extended to him. “All right, I’ll jist loiter along with yer over -to’rd the hotel.” - -“At another time,” observed Roderick, “we will talk further about -my father’s errand into this western country.” - -“That’s the dope that sure ‘nuff suits me, Mr. War-field,” -replied Rankin. “Whatever you say goes. Yer can unbosom yerself to me -any time to the limit. I’ve got a dozen good mining deals to talk to -you about; they’re dandies—a fortune in every one uv ‘em—’a -bird in every shell,’ I might say,” and Rankin laughed heartily at -his happy comparison. “Remember one thing, Warfield,”—he stopped -and took hold of the lapel of Roderick’s coat, and again spoke in a -whisper—“this yere town is full uv ‘hot air’ merchants. Don’t -have nuthin’ to do with ‘em—stand pat with me and I’ll see by -the great horn spoon the worst you get will be the best uv everythin’ -we tackle. Well, so long until after breakfast; I’ll see you later.” -And with this Rankin turned and walked briskly back to his stables, -whistling a melody from the “Irish Washerwoman” as he went along. - -Arriving at his stables he lighted a fire in a drumshaped stove, threw -his cud of tobacco away and said: “Hell, I wish this young Warfield -had money. I’ve got a copper prospect within three mile uv this here -town that’ll knock the spots out uv the Ferris-Haggerty mine all -holler. Geewhillikins, it’ll jist nachur-ally make all the best mines -in Wyomin’ look like small-sized Shetland ponies at a Perch’ron -draft horse show. You bet that’s what I’ve got.” - -After feeding his horses he came back to the livery barn office, now -quite warm and comfortable, pulled up an old broken backed chair, -sat down and lit his pipe. After a few puffs he muttered half aloud: -“Expect I’m the only man in Wyomin’ who remembers all the early -hist’ry and traditions about that cussed lost mine. I’ve hunted the -hills high and low, north, south, east and west, and dang my buttons if -I can imagine where them blamed nuggets came from. And my failure used -to make me at times a plenty hostile and peevish. John Warfield brought -three of ‘em out with him on his last trip. He gave Tom one, Boney one -and me one.” - -Thrusting his hand into his pocket Rankin produced a native nugget of -gold, worn smooth and shiny, and looked at it long in silent meditation. -It was a fine specimen of almost pure gold, and was worth perhaps five -and twenty dollars. - -Presently the old frontiersman brought his fist down with a startling -thump on his knee and said aloud: “I’ll be blankety-blanked if I -don’t believe in that dangnation fairy story yet. You bet I do, and -I’ll help John Warfield’s boy find it, by the great horn spoon I -will, if it takes every horse in the stable.” - -Jim Rankin relit his pipe, smoked vigorously and thought. The power of -silence was strong upon him. The restless spirit of the fortune hunter -was again surging in his blood and awaking slumbering half-forgotten -hopes—yes, tugging at his heart-strings and calling to him to forsake -all else and flee to the hills. - -Rankin was a character, a representative of the advance band of sturdy -trail-blazers of the West—tender-hearted as a child, generous to a -fault, ready to divide his last crust with a friend, yet quick to resent -an injury, and stubborn as a bullock when roused to self-defense. There -was nothing cunning about him, nothing of greed and avarice, no spirit -of envy for the possession of things for the things’ sake. But for -him there was real joy in the mad pursuit of things unattainable—a joy -that enthralled and enthused him with the fervor of eternal youth. His -was the simple life of the hills, loving his few chums and turning his -back on all whom he disliked or mistrusted. - -Other men and greater men there may be, but it was men of Jim Rankin’s -type that could build, and did build, monuments among the wild western -waste of heat-blistered plains and gaunt rock-ribbed mountains, men who -braved the wilderness and there laid the first foundation stones of -a splendid civilization—splendid, yet even now only in its first -beginnings, a civilization that means happy homes and smiling fields -where before all was barrenness and desolation. - - - - -CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED - -RODERICK spent a few days in Rawlins, improving his acquaintance with -Jim Rankin and making a general survey of the situation. The ex-sheriff -proved to be a veritable repository of local information, and Roderick -soon knew a little about everyone and everything in the district. He -learned that Tom Sun, one of his father’s old associates, had from -small beginnings come to be the largest sheep owner in the state; he -was rich and prosperous. With Boney Earnest, however, the other friend -mentioned in the letter, the case was different. Boney had stuck -for years to prospecting and desultory mining without achieving any -substantial success, but had eventually become a blast furnace man in -the big smelting plant at Encampment. There he had worked his way up to -a foreman’s position, and with his practical knowledge of all the ores -in the region was the real brains of the establishment, as Jim Rankin -forcibly declared. He had a large family which absorbed all his earnings -and always kept him on the ragged edge of necessity. - -Rankin himself was not too well fixed—just making a more or less -precarious subsistence out of his stage line and livery stable business. -But he had several big mining deals in hand or at least in prospect, one -or other of which was “dead sure to turn up trumps some day.” The -“some day” appeared to be indefinitely postponed, but meanwhile Jim -had the happiness of living in the genial sunshiny atmosphere of hope. -And the coming of Roderick had changed this mellowed sunshine into -positive radiance, rekindling all the old fires of enthusiasm in the -heart of the old-time prospector. With Roderick the first surge of eager -impetuosity had now settled down into quiet determination. But old Jim -Rankin’s blood was at fever-heat in his eagerness to find the hidden -valley. When alone with Roderick he could talk of nothing else. - -Roderick, however, had shrewdly and cautiously summed up the measure of -his usefulness. Jim Rankin had not the necessary capital to finance -a systematic search among the mountain fastnesses where nature so -jealously guarded her secret. Nor could he leave his horses and his -livery business for any long period, however glibly he might talk -about “going out and finding the blamed place.” As for any precise -knowledge of where the quest should be commenced, he had none. He had -shared in the frequent attempts and failures of Roderick’s father, and -after a lapse of some fifteen or sixteen years had even a slimmer chance -now than then of hitting the spot. So, all things duly considered, -Roderick had adhered to his original resolution of playing a lone hand. -Not even to Rankin did he show his father’s letter and map; their -relations were simply an understanding that the old frontiersman would -help Roderick out to the best of his power whenever opportunity offered -and in all possible ways, and that for services rendered there would be -liberal recompense should golden dreams come to be realized. - -Another reason weighed with Roderick in holding to a policy of -reticence. Despite Jim’s own frequent cautions to “keep mum—say -nothing to nobody,” he himself was not the best hand at keeping a -secret, especially after a few cocktails had lubricated his natural -loquacity. At such moments, under the mildly stimulating influence, Jim -dearly loved to hint at mysterious knowledge locked up in his breast. -And in a mining camp vague hints are liable to become finger posts and -signboards—the very rocks and trees seem to be possessed of ears. So -young Warfield was at least erring on the safe side in keeping his own -counsel and giving no unnecessary confidences anywhere. - -There was nothing to be gained by remaining longer at Rawlins. -Roderick’s slender finances rendered it imperative that he should -find work of some kind—work that would enable him to save a sufficient -stake for the prospecting venture, or give him the chance to search -out the proper moneyed partner who would be ready to share in the -undertaking. And since he had to work it would be well that his -work should, if possible, be on the range, where while earning his -maintenance and husbanding his resources, he could at the same time -be spying out the land and gaining invaluable experience. So he had on -several occasions discussed with Jim Rankin the chances of finding a -temporary job on one of the big cattle ranches, and after one of these -conversations had come his decision to move at once from Rawlins. His -first “voyage of discovery” would be to Encampment, the busy smelter -town. He remembered the cordial invitation extended to him by Grant -Jones, the newspaper man, and felt sure he would run across him there. -From the first he had felt strongly drawn to this buoyant young spirit -of the West, and mingled with his desire for such comradeship was just -a little longing, maybe, to glimpse again the fair smiling faces of the -twin sisters—“mountain wild flowers” as Grant Jones had so happily -described Barbara and Dorothy Shields. - -So one fine morning Roderick found himself seated beside Jim Rankin -on the driver’s seat of an old-fashioned Concord stage coach. With a -crack of Jim’s whip, the six frisky horses, as was their wont at the -beginning of a journey, started off at a gallop down the street. Five or -six passengers were stowed away in the coach. But these were nothing -to Jim Rankin and Roderick Warfield. They could converse on their own -affairs during the long day’s drive. The old frontiersman was, as -usual, in talkative mood. - -“By gunnies,” he exclaimed sotto-voce, as they wheeled along, -“we’ll find that pesky lost gold mine, don’t you forget it. I know -pretty dangnation near its location now. You bet I do and I’ll unbosom -myself and take you to it—jist you and me. I’m thinkin’ a heap -these yere days, you bet I am.” - -Along in the afternoon they crossed over Jack Creek, an important stream -of water flowing from the west into the North Platte River. Jim Rankin -stopped the stage coach and pointed out to our hero the “deadline” -between the cattle and sheep range. “All this yere territory,” said -Jim, “lying north uv Jack Creek is nachure’s sheep pasture and all -lyin’ south uv Jack is cattle range.” - -“It’s well known,” he went on, “where them blamed pesky sheep -feed and graze, by gunnies, vegetation don’t grow agin successful for -several years. The sheep not only nachurlly eat the grass down to its -roots, but their sharp hoofs cut the earth into fine pulp fields uv -dust. Jack Creek is the dividin’ line—the ‘dead line.’” - -“What do you mean by the ‘dead line’.” asked Roderick. - -“The ‘dead line,’”replied old Jim as he clucked to his -horses and swung his long whip at the off-leader—“the ‘dead -line’ is where by the great horn spoon the sheep can’t go any furder -south and the cattle darsn’t come any furder north, or when they do, -Hell’s a-pop-pin.’” - -“What happens?” - -“What happens?” repeated the frontiersman as he expectorated a -huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at a cactus that stood near the roadway. -“Why, by gunnies, hundreds uv ondefensible sheep have been actooally -clubbed to death in a single night by raidin’ cowboys and the -sheep-herders shot to death while sleepin’ in their camp wagons: and -their cookin’ outfit, which is usually in one end uv the wagon, as -well as the camp wagons, burned to conceal evidence of these dastardly -murders. Oh, they sure do make things gay and genial like.” - -“Astonishing! The cowboys must be a pretty wicked lot,” interrogated -Roderick. - -“Well, it’s about six uv one and half a dozen uv the other. You -see these pesky sheep herders and the cowboys are all torn off the same -piece uv cloth. Many a range rider has been picked from his hoss by -these sheep men hidden away in these here rocky cliffs which overlook -the valley. They sure ‘nuff get tumultuous.” - -“But what about the law?” inquired Roderick. “Does it afford no -protection?” - -Jim laughed derisively, pushed his hat far back and replied: -“Everybody that does any killin’ in these here parts sure does it -in self-defense.” He chuckled at his superior knowledge of the West. -“Leastways, that’s what the evidence brings out afore the courts. -However, Tom Sun says the fussin’ is about over with. Last year -more’n twenty cattle men were sentenced to the pen’tentiary up in -the Big Horn country. Sort uv an offset fur about a score uv sheep men -that’s been killed by the cow punchers while tendin’ their flocks on -the range. You bet they’ve been mixin’ things up with artil’ry a -heap.” - -“I clearly perceive,” said Roderick, “that your sympathies are -with the cattle men.” - -Jim Rankin turned quickly and with his piercing black eyes glared at -Roderick as if he would rebuke him for his presumption. - -“Young man, don’t be assoomin’. I ain’t got no sympathy fur -neither one uv ‘em. I don’t believe in murder and I don’t believe -very much in the pen’tentiary. ‘Course when I was sheriff, I had -to do some shootin’ but my shootin’ wuz all within the law. No, I -don’t care a cuss one way or ‘tother. There are lots uv good fellers -ridin’ range. Expect yer will be ridin’ before long. Think I can -help yer get a job on the Shields ranch; if I can’t Grant Jones can. -And ther’s lots uv mighty good sheep-herders too. My old pal, Tom Sun, -is the biggest sheep-man in this whole dang-nation country and he’s -square, he is. So you see I ain’t got no preference, ‘tho’ I do -say the hull kit and bilin’ uv ‘em could be improved. Yes, I’m -nootral. Put that in yer pipe and smoke it, fur it goes dangnation -long ways in this man’s country to be nootral, and don’t git to -furgit’n it.” - -It was late in the afternoon when they neared the little town of -Encampment. Old Jim Rankin began to cluck to his horses and swing his -whip gently and finally more pronouncedly. - -If it is the invariable habit of stage drivers at the point of departure -to start off their horses in a full swinging gallop, it is an equally -inviolable rule, when they approach the point of arrival, that they -come in with a whoop and a hooray. These laws are just as immutable -as ringing the bell or blowing the locomotive whistle when leaving or -nearing a station. So when Jim Rankin cracked his whip, all six horses -leaned forward in their collars, wheeled up the main street in a -swinging gallop, and stopped abruptly in front of the little hotel. - -As Roderick climbed down from the driver’s seat he was greeted with a -hearty “Hello, Warfield, welcome to our city.” The speaker was -none other than Grant Jones himself, for his newspaper instincts always -brought him, when in town, to meet the stage. - -The two young men shook hands with all the cordiality of old friends. - -“If you cannot get a room here at the hotel, you can bunk with me,” -continued Grant. “I have a little shack down towards the smelter.” - -Roderick laughed and said: “Suppose, then, we don’t look for a room. -I’ll be mighty pleased to carry my baggage to your shack now.” - -“All right, that’s a go,” said Grant; and together they started -down the street. - -Grant Jones’ bachelor home consisted of a single room—a hastily -improvised shack, as he had correctly called it, that had cost no very -large sum to build. It was decorated with many trophies of college -life and of the chase. Various college pennants were on the walls, -innumerable pipes, some rusty antiquated firearms, besides a brace -of pistols which Jim Rankin had given to Grant, supposed to be the -identical flint-locks carried by Big Nose George, a desperado of the -early days. - -“You see,” explained Grant as he welcomed his guest, “this is my -Encampment residence. I have another shack over at Dillon where I edit -my paper, the Dillon Doublejack. I spend part of my time in one -place and part in the other. My business is in Dillon but social -attractions—Dorothy Shields, you may have already guessed—are over -this way.” And he blushed red as he laughingly made the confession. - -“And talking of the Shields, by the way,” resumed Grant. “I want -to tell you I took the liberty of mentioning your name to the old man. -He is badly in need of some more hands on the ranch—young fellows who -can ride and are reliable.” - -Roderick was all alert. - -“The very thing I’m looking for,” he said eagerly. “Would he -give me a place, do you think?” - -“I’m certain of it. In fact I promised to bring you over to the -ranch as soon as you turned up at Encampment.” - -“Mighty kind of you, old fellow,” remarked Roderick, gratefully and -with growing familiarity. - -“Well, you can take that bed over there,” said the host. “This one -is mine. You’ll excuse the humble stretchers, I know. Then after you -have opened your grip and made yourself a little at home, we’ll take -a stroll. I fancy that a good big porterhouse won’t come amiss after -your long day’s drive. We’ve got some pretty good restaurants in the -town. I suppose you’ve already discovered that a properly cooked juicy -Wyoming steak is hard to beat, eh, you pampered New Yorker?” - -Roderick laughed as he threw open his valise and arranged his brushes -and other toilet appurtenances on the small table that stood at the head -of the narrow iron stretcher. - -A little later, when night had fallen, the young men went out into the -main street to dine and look over the town. It was right at the edge of -the valley with mountains rising in a semi-circle to south and west, a -typical mountain settlement. - -“You see everything is wide open,” said Grant, as he escorted -Roderick along the streets, arm linked in arm. For they had just -discovered that they belonged to the same college fraternity—Kappa -Gamma Delta, so the bonds of friendship had been drawn tighter still. - -“You have a great town here,” observed Roderick. - -“We have about 1200 to 1500 people and 18 saloons!” laughed the -other. “And every saloon has a gambling lay-out—anything from -roulette to stud-poker. Over yonder is Brig Young’s place. Here is -Southpaw’s Bazaar. The Red Dog is a little farther along; the Golden -Eagle is one of the largest gambling houses in the town. We’ll have -our supper first, and then I’ll take you over to Brig Young’s and -introduce you.” - -As they turned across the street they met a man coming toward them. He -was straight and tall, rather handsome, but a gray mustache made him -seem older than his years. - -“Hello, here is Mr. Grady. Mr. Grady, I want to introduce you to a -newcomer. This is Mr. Roderick Warfield.” - -“Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” said Grady in a smooth voice and -with an oleaginous smile. To Roderick the face seemed a sinister one; -instinctively he felt a dislike for the man. - -“Your town is quite up-to-date, with all its brilliant electric -lights,” he observed with a polite effort at conversation. - -“Yes,” replied Grady, “but it is the monthly pay roll of my big -smelting company that supports the whole place.” - -There was a pomposity in the remark and the look that accompanied it -which added to Roderick’s feelings of repulsion. - -“Oh, I don’t know,” interposed Grant Jones, in a laughing way. -“We have about five hundred prospectors up in the hills who may not -yet be producers, but their monthly expenditures run up into pretty big -figures.” - -“Of course, that amounts to something; but think of my pay roll,” -replied Grady, boastingly. “Almost a thousand men on my pay roll. -We have the biggest copper mine in the Rocky Mountain region, Mr. -War-field. Come down some day and see the smelter,” he added as he -extended his hand in farewell greeting, with a leer rather than a smile -on his face. “I’ll give you a pass.” - -“Thank you,” said Roderick coldly. And the two friends resumed their -walk toward Brig Young’s saloon. - -“I don’t mind telling you,” remarked Grant, “that Grady is the -most pompous, arrogant and all-round hated man in this mining camp.” - -“He looks the part,” replied Roderick, and they both laughed. - -A minute later they were seated in a cosy little restaurant. Ample -justice was done to the succulent Wyoming porterhouse, and cigars were -lighted over the cups of fragrant coffee that completed the meal. Then -the young men resumed their peregrinations pursuant to the programme of -visiting Brig Young’s place, certified by Grant Jones to be one of the -sights of the town. - -The saloon proved to be an immense room with a bar in the corner near -the entrance. Roulette tables, faro lay-outs and a dozen poker tables -surrounded with feverish players were all running full blast, while -half a hundred men were standing around waiting to take the place of any -player who went broke or for any reason dropped out of the game. - -“I guess nearly all the gambling is done here, isn’t it?” asked -Roderick. - -“Not by a big sight. There are eighteen joints of this kind, and they -are all running wide open and doing business all the time.” - -“When do they close?” inquired Roderick. - -“They never close,” replied Grant. “Brig Young boasts that he -threw the key away when this place opened, and the door has never been -locked since.” - -As they spoke their attention was attracted to one corner of the gaming -room. Seven players were grouped around a table, in the centre of which -was stacked a pile of several thousand dollars in gold pieces. Grant and -Roderick strolled over. - -A score of miners and cowboys were standing around watching the game. -One of them said to Grant Jones: “It’s a jack pot and they’re -dealing for openers.” - -Finally someone opened the pot for $500. “It’s an all-fired juicy -pot and I wouldn’t think of openin’ it for less.” Tom Lester was -the player’s name, as Grant whispered to Roderick. - -“I’ll stay,” said One-Eyed Joe. - -“So will I,” said another. - -The players were quickly assisted with cards—four refused to come in, -and the other three, having thrown their discards into the deck, sat -facing each other ready for the final struggle in determining -the ownership of the big pot before them. It was a neck and neck -proposition. First one would see and raise and then another would see -and go better. Finally, the showdown came, and it created consternation -when it was discovered that there were five aces in sight. - -Instantly Tom Lester jerked his Colt’s revolver from his belt and laid -it carefully down on top of his three aces and said: “Steady, boys, -don’t move a muscle or a hand until I talk.” The onlookers pushed -back and quickly enlarged the circle. - -“Sit perfectly still, gentlemen,” said Tom Lester, quietly and in -a low tone of voice, with his cocked revolver in front of him. “I’m -not makin’ any accusations or loud talk—I’m not accusin’ -anybody in particular of anything. Keep perfectly cool an’ hear a -cool determined man talk. Far be it from me to accuse anyone of crooked -dealin’ or holdin’ high cards up their sleeves.” - -As he spoke he looked at One-Eyed Joe who had both a reputation at card -skin games and a record of several notches on his gun handle. - -“I want to say,” Lester continued, “that I recognize in the game -we’re playin’ every man is a perfect gentleman and it’s not Tom -Lester who suspicions any impure motives or crooked work. - -“We will now order a new deck of cards,” said Tom while fire was -flashing out of his steel gray eyes. “We will play this game to a -finish, by God, and the honest winner will take the stakes. But I will -say here and now so there may be no misunderstandin’ and without -further notice, that if a fifth ace shows up again around this table, -I’ll shoot his other eye out.” And he looked straight at One-Eyed -Joe, who never quivered or moved a muscle. - -“This ends my remarks concernin’ the rules. How d’ye like ‘em, -Joe?” - -“Me?” said Joe, looking up in a surprised way with his one eye. -“I’m ‘lowin’ you have made yer position plain—so dangnation -plain that even a blind man kin see the pint.” - -The new deck was brought and the game went on in silence. After a few -deals the pot was again opened, and was in due course won by a player -who had taken no part in the previous mix-up, without a word falling -from the lips of either Tom Lester or One-Eyed Joe. - -Roderick and Grant moved away. - -“Great guns,” exclaimed the former. “But that’s a rare glimpse -of western life.” - -“Oh, there are incidents like that every night,” replied Grant, -“and shooting too at times. Have a drink?” he added as they -approached the bar. - -“Yes, I will have a great big lemonade.” - -“Well,” laughed Grant, “I’ll surprise both you and my stomach by -taking the same.” - -As they sipped their drinks, Grant’s face became a little serious as -he said: “I’m mighty glad you have come. You seem to be of my own -kind. Lots of good boys out here, but they are a little rough and -many of them are rather careless. Guess I am getting a little careless -myself. There are just two men in these mountains who have a good -influence over the boys. One is Major Buell Hampton. Everybody trusts -him. By the way, I must introduce you to him. He is one of the grandest -men I have ever met” As Grant said this he brought his fist down -decisively on the bar. - -“The other is the Reverend Stephen Grannon,” he went on, “the -travelling horseback preacher—carries saddle bags, and all that. Why, -do you know, the boys are so respectful to Reverend Grannon that they -hire a man to go up and down the street ringing a bell, and they close -up all their places for an hour every time he comes to town. He preaches -mostly in the big tent you perhaps saw further up the street, at other -times in the little church. The boys are mighty respectful to him, and -all because they know he goes about doing good. If anyone falls ill, -Reverend Grannon is the first to offer help. He visits the poor and -cheers them with a spirit of hope. He never leaves town without going -into every saloon and shaking hands with the barkeepers, giving them the -same kind of advice but not in the same way—the same advice that -we used to get when we stood around our mother’s knee before we had -learned the sorrows of the big world.” - -For a moment Grant was serious. Then looking up at Roderick, he laughed -and said: “We all have to think of those old days once in a while, -don’t we?” - -Roderick nodded gravely. - -“Now I come to think of it,” said Grant, “the present moment’s a -very good time. We’ll go down and call on one of Nature’s noblemen. -He is somewhat of an enigma. You cannot tell how old he is by looking at -him. He may have seen fifty years or a hundred and fifty—the Lord -only knows, for nobody in this camp has any idea. But you will meet -a magnificent character. Come along. I’m going to present you to my -friend, Major Buell Hampton, about whom I’ve just been speaking. I -guess we’ll catch him at home.” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS - -AS THE two young men walked down the brilliantly lighted main street of -Encampment, Grant Jones explained that the water had been dammed several -miles up the south fork of the Encampment river and conducted in a -California red-wood pipe down to the smelter plant for power purposes; -and that the town of Encampment was lighted at a less cost per capita -than any other town in the world. It simply cost nothing, so to speak. - -Grant had pointed out several residences of local celebrities, but at -last a familiar name drew Roderick’s special attention—the name of -one of his father’s old friends. - -“This is Boney Earnest’s home,” Grant was remarking. “He is -the fellow who stands in front of the furnaces at the smelter in a -sleeveless shirt and with a red bandana around his neck. They have a -family of ten children, every one of them as bright as a new silver -dollar. Oh, we have lots of children here and by the way a good public -school. You see that log house just beyond? That is where Boney Earnest -used to live when he first came into camp—before his brood was quite -so numerous. It now belongs to Major Buell Hampton. It is not much to -look at, but just wait until you get inside.” - -“Then this Major Hampton, I presume, has furnished it up in great -shape?” - -“No, nothing but rough benches, a table, some chairs and a few shelves -full of books. What I mean is that Major Hampton’s personality is -there and that beats all the rich furniture and all the bric-à-brac on -earth. As a college man you will appreciate him.” - -Without ceremony Grant rapped vigorously at the door and received a loud -response to “come in.” At the far end of a room that was perhaps 40 -feet long by 20 feet in width was an open fireplace in which huge logs -of wood were burning. Here Major Hampton was standing with his back to -the fire and his hands crossed behind him. - -As his visitors entered, the Major said in courtly welcome: “Mr. Grant -Jones, I am glad to see you.” And he advanced with hand extended. - -“Major, let me introduce you to a newcomer, Roderick Warfield. We -belong to the same ‘frat.’” - -“Mr. Warfield,” responded the Major, shaking the visitor’s hand, -“I welcome you not only to the camp but to my humble dwelling.” - -He led them forward and provided chairs in front of the open fire. On -the center table was a humidor filled with tobacco and beside it lay -several pipes. - -“Mr. Warfield,” observed the Major, speaking with a marked southern -accent, “I am indeed pleased, suh, to meet anyone who is a friend of -Mr. Jones. I have found him a most delightful companion and I hope you -will make free to call on me often. Interested in mining, I presume?” - -“Well,” replied Roderick, “interested, yes, in a way. But -tentative arrangements have been made for me to join the cowboy brigade. -I am to ride the range if Mr. Shields is pleased with me, as our friend -here seems to think he will be. He is looking for some more cowboys and -my name has been mentioned to him.” - -“Yes,” concurred Grant, “Mr. Shields needs some more cowboys very -badly, and as Warfield is accustomed to riding, I’m quite sure he’ll -fill the bill.” - -“Personally,” observed the Major, “I am very much interested in -mining. It has a great charm for me. The taking out of wealth from -the bosom of the earth—wealth that has never been tainted by -commercialism—appeals to me very much.” - -“Then I presume you are doing some mining yourself.” - -“No,” replied the Major. “If I had capital, doubtless I would be -in the mining business. But my profession, if I may term it so, is that -of a hunter. These hills and mountains are pretty full of game, and -I manage to find two or three deer a week. My friend and next door -neighbor, Mr. Boney Earnest, and his family consisting of a wife and -ten children, have been very considerate of me and I have undertaken the -responsibility of furnishing the meat for their table. Are you fond of -venison, Mr. Warfield?” - -“I must confess,” said Roderick, “I have never tasted venison.” - -“Finest meat in the world,” responded the Major. “Of course,” he -went on, “I aim to sell about one deer a week, which brings me a fair -compensation. It enables me to buy tobacco and ammunition,” and he -laughed good naturedly at his limited wants. - -“One would suppose,” interjected Grant Jones, “that the Boney -Earnest family must be provided with phenomenal appetites if they eat -the meat of two deer each week. But if you knew the Major’s practice -of supplying not less than a dozen poor families with venison because -they are needy, you would understand why he does not have a greater -income from the sale of these antlered trophies of the hills.” - -The Major waved the compliment aside and lit his pipe. As he threw his -head well back after the pipe was going, Roderick was impressed that -Major Buell Hampton most certainly was an exceptional specimen of -manhood. He was over six feet tall, splendidly proportioned, and perhaps -weighed considerably more than two hundred pounds. - -There were little things here and there that gave an insight into the -character of the man. Hanging on the wall was a broad-brimmed slouch hat -of the southern planter style. Around his neck the Major wore a heavy -gold watch guard with many a link. To those who knew him best, as -Roderick came subsequently to learn, this chain was symbolical of his -endless kindnesses to the poor—notwithstanding his own poverty, of -such as he had he freely gave; like the chain his charities seemed -linked together without a beginning—without an end. His well-brushed -shoes and puttees, his neatly arranged Windsor tie, denoted the old -school of refinement and good breeding. - -His long dark hair and flowing mustaches were well streaked with gray. -His forehead was knotted, his nose was large but well formed, while -the tangled lines of his face were deep cut and noticeable. From under -heavily thatched eyebrows the eyes beamed forth the rare tenderness and -gentle consideration for others which his conversation suggested. -Long before the evening’s visit was over, a conviction was fixed in -Roderick’s heart that here indeed was a king among men—one on whom -God had set His seal of greatness. - -In later days, when both had become well acquainted, Roderick sometimes -discovered moments when this strange man was in deep meditation—when -his eyes seemed resting far away on some mysterious past or inscrutable -future. And Roderick would wonder whether it was a dark cloud of memory -or anxiety for what was to come that obscured and momentarily dimmed -the radiance of this great soul. It was in such moments that Major Buell -Hampton became patriarchal in appearance; and an observer might well -have exclaimed: “Here is one over whom a hundred winters or even -countless centuries have blown their fiercest chilling winds.” But -when Buell Hampton had turned again to things of the present, his face -was lit up with his usual inspiring smile of preparedness to -consider the simplest questions of the poorest among the poor of his -acquaintances—a transfiguration indescribable, as if the magic work -of some ancient alchemist had pushed the years away, transforming the -centenarian into a comparatively young man who had seen, perhaps, not -more than half a century. He was, indeed, changeable as a chameleon. -But in all phases he looked, in the broadest sense of the word, the -humanitarian. - -As the three men sat that night around the fire and gazed into the -leaping flames and glowing embers, there had been a momentary lull in -the conversation, broken at last by the Major. - -“I hope we shall become great friends, Mr. War-field,” he said. -“But to be friends we must be acquainted, and in order to be really -acquainted with a man I must know his views on politics, religion, -social questions, and the economic problems of the age in which we -live.” - -He waved his hand at the bookshelves well filled with volumes whose worn -bindings showed that they were there for reading and not for show. -Long rows of periodicals, even stacks of newspapers, indicated close -attention to the current questions of the day. - -“Rather a large order,” replied Roderick, smiling. “It would take -a long time to test out a man in such a thorough way.” - -The Major paid no heed to the comment. Still fixedly regarding the -bookshelves, he continued: “You see my library, while not extensive, -represents my possessions. Each day is a link in life’s chain, and I -endeavor to keep pace with the latest thought and the latest steps in -the world’s progress.” - -Then he turned round suddenly and asked the direct question: “By the -way, Mr. Warfield, are you a married man?” - -Roderick blushed the blush of a young bachelor and confessed that he was -not. - -“Whom God hath joined let no man put asunder,” laughed Grant Jones. -“The good Lord has not joined me to anyone yet, but I am hoping He -will.” - -“Grant, you are a boy,” laughed the Major. “You always will be a -boy. You are quick to discover the ridiculous; and yet,” went on the -Major reflectively, “I have seen my friend Jones in serious mood at -times. But I like him whether he is frivolous or serious. When you boys -speak of marriage as something that is arranged by a Divine power, you -are certainly laboring under one of the many delusions of this world.” - -Roderick remembered his compact with Stella Rain, the pretty little -college widow. For a moment his mind was back at the campus grounds in -old Galesburg. Presently he said: “I beg your pardon, Major, but would -you mind giving me your ideas of an ideal marriage?” - -“An ideal marriage,” repeated the Major, smiling, as he knocked the -ashes from his meerschaum. “Well, an ideal marriage is a something the -young girl dreams about, a something the engaged girl believes she has -found, and a something the married woman knows never existed.” - -He looked deep into the open grate as if re-reading a half forgotten -chapter in his own life. Presently refilling and lighting his pipe he -turned to Roderick and said: “When people enter into marriage—a -purely civil institution—a man agrees to bring in the raw -products—the meat, the flour, the corn, the fuel; and the woman agrees -to manufacture the goods into usable condition. The husband agrees -to provide a home—the wife agrees to take care of it and keep it -habitable. In one respect marriage is slavery,” continued the Major, -“slavery in the sense that each mutually sentences himself or herself -to a life of servitude, each serving the other in, faithfully carrying -out, when health permits, their contract or agreement of partnership. -Therefore marriages are made on earth—not in heaven. There is -nothing divine about them. They are, as I have said, purely a civil -institution.” - -The speaker paused. His listeners, deeply interested, were reluctant by -any interruption to break the flow of thought. They waited patiently, -and presently the Major resumed: “Since the laws of all civilized -nations recognize the validity of a partnership contract, they should -also furnish an honorable method of nullifying and cancelling it when -either party willfully breaks the marriage agreement of partnership by -act of omission or commission. Individuals belonging to those isolated -cases ‘Whom God hath joined’—if perchance there are any—of -course have no objections to complying with the formalities of the -institutions of marriage; they are really mated and so the divorce court -has no terrors for them. It is only from among the great rank and file -of the other class whom ‘God hath not joined’ that the unhappy -victims are found hovering around the divorce courts, claiming that the -partnership contract has been violated and broken and the erring one has -proven a false and faithless partner. - -“In most instances, I believe, and it is the saddest part of it all, -the complainant is usually justified. And it is certainly a most wise, -necessary, and humane law that enables an injured wife or husband to -terminate a distasteful or repulsive union. Only in this way can the -standard of humanity be raised by peopling the earth with natural -love-begotten children, free from the effects of unfavorable pre-natal -influences which not infrequently warp and twist the unborn into -embryonic imbeciles or moral perverts with degenerate tendencies. - -“Society as well as posterity is indebted fully as much to the civil -institution of divorce as it is to the civil institution of marriage. -Oh, yes, I well know, pious-faced church folks walk about throughout -the land with dubs to bludgeon those of my belief without going to the -trouble of submitting these vital questions to an unprejudiced court of -inquiry.” - -The Major smiled, and said: “I see you young men are interested in my -diatribe, or my sermon—call it which you will—so I’ll go on. -Well, the churches that are nearest to the crudeness of antiquity, -superstition, and ignorance are the ones most unyielding and -denunciatory to the institution of divorce. The more progressive the -church or the community and the more enlightened the human race becomes, -the less objectionable and the more desirable is an adequate system of -divorce laws—laws that enable an injured wife or husband to refuse -to stultify their conscience and every instinct of decency by bringing -children into the world that are not welcome. A womanly woman covets -motherhood—desires children—love offerings with which to people the -earth—babes that are not handicapped with parental hatreds, regrets, -or disgust. Marriage is not a flippant holiday affair but a most serious -one, freighted not alone with grave responsibilities to the mutual -happiness of both parties to the civil contract, but doubly so to the -offspring resultant from the union. But I guess that is about enough -of my philosophy for one evening, isn’t it?” he concluded, with a -little laugh that was not devoid of bitterness—it might have been the -bitterness of personal reminiscence, or bitterness toward a blind and -misguided world in general, or perhaps both combined. - -Grant Jones turning to Roderick said: “Well, what do you think of the -Major’s theory?” - -“I fear,” said Roderick in a serious tone, “that it is not a -theory but an actual condition.” - -“Bravo,” said the Major as he arose from his chair and advanced to -Roderick, extending his hand. “All truth,” said he, “in time -will be uncovered, truth that today is hidden beneath the débris of -formalities, ignorance, and superstition.” - -“But why, Major,” asked Grant, “are there so many divorces? Do -not contracting parties know their own minds? Now it seems impossible -to conceive of my ever wanting a divorce from a certain little lady I -know,” he added with a pleasant laugh—the care-free, confiding laugh -of a boy. - -“My dear Jones,” said the Major, “the supposed reasons for divorce -are legion—the actual reasons are perhaps few. However it is not for -me to say that all the alleged reasons are not potent and sufficient. -When we hear two people maligning each other in or out of the court we -are prone to believe both are telling the truth. Truth is the underlying -foundation of respect, respect begets friendship, and friendship -sometimes is followed by the more tender passion we call love. A man -meets a woman,” the Major went on, thoughtfully, “whom he knows is -not what the world calls virtuous. He may fall in love with her and may -marry her and be happy with her. But if a man loves a woman he believes -to be virtuous and then finds she is not—it is secretly regarded by -him as the unforgivable sin and is doubtless the unspoken and unwritten -allegation in many a divorce paper.” - -He mused for a moment, then went on: “Sometime there will be a single -standard of morals for the sexes, but as yet we are not far enough away -from the brutality of our ancestors. Yes, it is infinitely better,” -he added, rising from his chair, “that a home should be broken into -a thousand fragments through the kindly assistance of a divorce court -rather than it should only exist as a family battle ground.” The -tone of his voice showed that the talk was at an end, and he bade his -visitors a courteous good-night, with the cordial addition: “Come -again.” - -“It was great,” remarked Roderick, as the young men wended their -homeward way. “What a wealth of new thought a fellow can bring away -from such a conversation!” - -“Just as I told you,” replied Grant “But the Major opens his -inmost heart like that only to his chosen friends.” - -“Then I’m mighty glad to be enrolled among the number,” said -Roderick. “Makes a chap feel rather shy of matrimony though, doesn’t -it?” - -“Not on your life. True love can never change—can never wrong -itself. When you feel that way toward a girl, Warfield, and know that -the girl is of the same mind, go and get the license—no possible -mistake can be made.” - -Grant Jones was thinking of Dorothy Shields, and his face was aglow. -To Roderick had come thought of Stella Rain, and he felt depressed. Was -there no mistake in his love affair?—this was the uneasy question that -was beginning to call for an answer. And yet he had never met a girl -whom he would prefer to the dainty, sweet, unselfish, brave little -“college widow” of Galesburg. - - - - -CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY - -WITHIN a few days of Roderick’s advent into the camp he was duly added -to the cowboy list on the ranch of the wealthy cattleman, Mr. Shields, -whose property was located a few miles east from the little mining town -and near the banks of the Platte River. A commodious and handsome home -stood apart from the cattle corral and bunk house lodgings for the -cowboy helpers. There were perhaps twenty cowboys in Mr. Shields’ -employment. His vast herds of cattle ranged in the adjoining hills and -mountain canyons that rimmed the eastern edge of the valley. - -Grant Jones had proved his friendship in the strongest sort of an -introduction, and was really responsible for Roderick securing a job -so quickly. But it was not many days before Roderick discovered that -Doro-try Shields was perhaps the principal reason why Grant rode over to -the ranch so often, ostensibly to visit him. - -During the first month Roderick did not leave the ranch but daily -familiarized himself with horse and saddle. He had always been a good -rider, but here he learned the difference between a trained steed and an -unbroken mustang. Many were his falls and many his bruises, but finally -he came to be quite at home on the back of the fiercest bucking broncho. - -One Saturday evening he concluded to look up Grant Jones and perhaps -have another evening with Major Buell Hampton. So he saddled a pony and -started. But at the edge of town he met his friend riding toward the -country. They drew rein, and Grant announced, as Roderick had already -divined, that he was just starting for the Shields home. They finally -agreed to call on Major Buell Hampton for half an hour and then ride out -to the ranch together. - -As they approached Major Hampton’s place they found him mounting his -horse, having made ready for the hills. - -“How is this, Major?” asked Grant Jones. “Is it not rather late in -the afternoon for you to be starting away with your trusty rifle?” - -“Well,” replied the Major, after saluting his callers most -cordially, “yes, it is late. But I know where there is a deer lick, -and as I am liable to lose my reputation as a hunter if I do not bring -in a couple more venisons before long, why I propose to be on the ground -with the first streak of daylight tomorrow morning.” - -He glanced at the afternoon sun and said: “I think I can reach the -deer lick soon after sun-down. I shall remain over night and be ready -for the deer when they first begin stirring. They usually frequent the -lick I intend visiting.” - -The Major seemed impatient to be gone and soon his horse was cantering -along carrying him into the hills, while Roderick and Grant were riding -leisurely through the lowlands of the valley road toward the Shields -ranch. - -All through the afternoon Buell Hampton skirted numerous rocky banks -and crags and climbed far up into the mountain country, then down -abrupt hill-sides only to mount again to still higher elevations. He was -following a dim trail with which he showed himself familiar and that led -several miles away to Spirit River Falls. - -Near these falls was the deer lick. For three consecutive trips the -hunter had been unsuccessful. He had witnessed fully a dozen deer -disappear along the trail that led down to the river’s bank, but none -of them had returned. It was a mystery. He did not understand where the -deer could have gone. There was no ford or riffle in the river and the -waters were too deep to admit belief of the deer finding a crossing. He -wondered what was the solution. - -This was the real reason why he had left home late that afternoon, -determined, when night came on, to tether his horse in the woods far -away from the deer lick, make camp and be ready the following morning -for the first appearance of some fine buck as he came to slake -his thirst. If he did not get that buck he would at least find the -trail—indeed on the present occasion it was less the venison he was -after than the solving of the mystery. - -Arriving at his destination, the improvised camp was leisurely made and -his horse given a generous feed of oats. After this he lighted a fire, -and soon a steaming cup of coffee helped him to relish the bread and -cold meat with which he had come provided. - -After smoking several pipes of tobacco and building a big log fire for -the night—for the season was far advanced and there was plenty of -snow around—Buell Hampton lay down in his blankets and was soon fast -asleep, indifferent to the blinking stars or to the rhythmic stirring of -clashing leafless limbs fanned into motion by the night winds. - -With the first breaking of dawn the Major was stirring. After refreshing -himself with hot coffee and glancing at the cartridges in his rifle, he -stole silently along under the overhanging foliage toward the deer lick. - -The watcher had hardly taken a position near an old fallen tree when -five deer came timidly along the trail, sniffing the air in a half -suspicious fashion. - -Lifting his rifle to his shoulder the hunter took deliberate aim and -fired. A young buck leaped high in the air, wheeled about from the trail -and plunged madly toward his enemy. But it was the stimulated madness of -death. The noble animal fell to its knees—then partially raised -itself with one last mighty effort only to fall back again full length, -vanquished in the uneven battle with man. The Major’s hunting knife -quickly severed the jugular vein and the animal was thoroughly bled. -A little later this first trophy of the chase had been dressed and -gambreled with the dexterity of a stock yard butcher and hung high on -the limb of a near by tree. - -The four remaining deer, when the Major fired, had rushed frantically -down the trail bordered with dense underbrush and young trees that led -over the brow of the embankment and on down to the river. The hunter now -started in pursuit, following the trail to the water’s edge. But there -were no deer to be seen. - -Looking closely he noted that the tracks turned directly to the left -toward the waterfall. - -The bank was very abrupt, but by hugging it closely and stepping -sometimes on stones in the water, while pushing the overhanging and -tangled brushwood aside, he succeeded in making some headway. To his -surprise the narrow trail gave evidence of much use, as the tracks were -indeed numerous. But where, he asked himself, could it possibly lead? -However, he was determined to persevere and solve the mystery of where -the deer had gone and thus escaped him on the previous occasions. - -Presently he had traversed the short distance to the great cataract -tumbling over the shelf of rock almost two hundred feet above. Here he -found himself under the drooping limbs of a mammoth tree that grew so -close to the waterfall that the splashing spray enveloped him like a -cold shower. Following on, to his astonishment he reached a point behind -the waterfall where he discovered a large cavern with lofty arched roof, -like an immense hall in some ancient ruined castle. - -While the light was imperfect yet the morning sun, which at that hour -shone directly on the cascade, illuminated up the cavern sufficiently -for the Major to see into it for quite a little distance. It seemed to -recede directly into the mountain. The explorer cautiously advanced, and -soon was interested at another discovery. A stream fully fifteen feet -wide and perhaps two feet deep flowed directly out of the heart of the -mountain along the center of the grotto, to mingle its waters with those -of Spirit River at the falls. - -Major Hampton paused to consider this remarkable discovery. He now -remembered that the volume of Spirit River had always impressed him as -being larger below the noted Spirit River Falls than above, and here -was the solution. The falls marked the junction of two bodies of water. -Where this hidden river came from he had no idea. Apparently its source -was some great spring situated far back in the mountain’s interior. - -The Major was tensioned to a high key, and determined to investigate -further. Making his way slowly and carefully along the low stone shelf -above the river, he found that the light did not penetrate more -than about three hundred feet. Looking closely he found there was an -abundance of deer sign, which greatly mystified him. - -Retracing his steps to the waterfall, the Major once more crept along -the path next to the abrupt river bank, and, climbing up the embankment, -regained the deer trail where he had shot the young buck. He seated -himself on an old fallen tree. Here on former occasions Major Hampton -had waited many an hour for the coming of deer and indulged in -day-dreaming how to relieve the ills of humanity, how to lighten the -burdens of the poor and oppressed. Now, however, he was roused to -action, and was no longer wrapped in the power of silence and the -contemplation of abstract subjects. His brain and his heart were -throbbing with the excitement of adventure and discovery. - -After full an hour’s thought his decision was reached and a course -of action planned. First of all he proceeded to gather a supply of dry -brush and branches, tying them into three torch-like bundles with stout -cord, a supply of which he invariably carried in his pockets. Then he -inspected his match box to make sure the matches were in good condition. -Finally picking up his gun, pulling his hunting belt a little tighter, -examining his hatchet and knife to see if they were safe in his belt -scabbard, he again set forth along the deer trail, down to the river. -Overcoming the same obstacles as before, he soon found himself in the -grotto behind the waterfall. - -Lighting one of his torches the Major started on a tour of further -discovery. His course again led him over the comparatively smooth ledge -of rock that served as a low bank for the waters of the hidden stream. -But now he was able to advance beyond the point previously gained. After -a while his torch burned low and he lighted another. The subterranean -passage he was traversing narrowed at times until there was scarcely -more than room to walk along the brink of the noisy waters, and again it -would widen out like some great colosseum. The walls and high ceilings -were fantastically enchanting, while the light from his torch made -strange shadows, played many tricks on his nerves, and startled him with -optical illusions. Figures of stalactites and rows of basaltic columns -reflected the flare of the brand held aloft, and sometimes the explorer -fancied himself in a vault hung with tapestries of brilliant sparkling -crystals. - -Finally the third and last torch was almost burned down to the hand hold -and the Major began to awaken to a keen sense of his difficult position, -and its possible dangers. When attempting to change the stub of burning -brushwood from one hand to the other and at the same time not drop his -rifle, the remnants of the torch fell from his grasp into the rapid -flowing waters and he was left in utter darkness. Apprehension came upon -him—an eerie feeling of helplessness. True, there was a box of matches -in the pocket of his hunting coat, but these would afford but feeble -guidance in a place where at any step there might be a pitfall. - -Major Hampton was a philosopher, but this was a new experience, -startling and unique. Everything around was pitch dark. He seemed to -be enveloped in a smothering black robe. Presently above the murmur -and swish of running water he could hear his heart beating. He mentally -figured that he must have reached a distance of not less than three -miles from Spirit River Falls. The pathway had proved fairly smooth -walking, but unknown dangers were ahead, while a return trip in Stygian -darkness would be an ordeal fraught with much risk. - -Stooping over the low bank he thrust his hand into the current to make -sure of its course. The water was only a little below the flat ledge of -rock on which he was standing, and was cold as the waters of a mountain -spring. It occurred to him that he had been thirsty for a long time -although in his excitement he had not been conscious of this. So he lay -down flat and thrust his face into the cool grateful water. - -Rising again to his feet he felt greatly refreshed, his nerve restored, -and he had just about concluded to retrace his steps when his eyes, by -this time somewhat accustomed to the darkness, discovered in an upstream -direction, a tiny speck of light He blinked and then questioningly -rubbed his eyes. But still the speck did not disappear. It seemed no -larger than a silver half dollar. It might be a ray of light filtering -through some crevice, indicating a tunnel perhaps that would afford -means of escape. - -Using his gun as a staff wherewith to feel his way and keeping as far -as possible from the water’s edge, Major Hampton moved slowly upstream -toward the guiding spot of radiance. In a little while he became -convinced it was the light of day shining in through an opening. The -speck grew larger and larger as he slowly moved forward. - -Every once in a while he would stop and turn his face in the opposite -direction, remaining in this position for a few moments and then quickly -turning round again to satisfy himself that he was under no illusion. -But the luminous disc was really growing larger—it appeared now to -be as big as a saucer. His heart throbbed with hope and his judgment -approved that the advance should be continued. - -Yes, the light was increasing, and looking down he fancied he could -almost see the butt of his gun which was being used as a walking stick. -Presently his feet could indistinctly be seen, and then the rocky -pavement over which he was so cautiously shuffling his way. - -Ten minutes later the mouth of a tunnel was reached, and he was safe -once more, bathed in God’s own sunshine, his eyes still dazzled after -the Cimmerian blackness from which he had emerged. He had traversed the -entire length of the subterranean cave or river channel, and had reached -the opposite side of a high mountain. Perhaps the distance through -was only about three and a half miles. Trees and underbrush grew in -profusion about the mouth of the tunnel into which the hidden river -flowed. There was less snow than on the other side of the barrier. Deer -sign were everywhere, and he followed a zig-zag deer path out into an -open narrow valley. - -The Major’s heart now leaped with the exultation of accomplishment. -Brushing the light covering of snow away, he seated himself on the bank -of the stream which could not, now that he looked upon it in the -open day, be dignified by calling it a river. Along the edges of the -watercourse were fringes of ice but in the center the rapid flow was -unobstructed. - -It was only a big mountain brook, but one perhaps that had never been -seen before by the eyes of man. The exploration and the excitement -together had greatly fatigued Buell Hampton, and he was beginning to be -conscious of physical exhaustion and the need of food notwithstanding -the sustaining stimulus of being a discoverer in one of Nature’s -jealously guarded wonderlands. - -After resting a short time he started to walk farther into the valley -and forage along the stream. The hunter was on the lookout for grouse -but succeeded in shooting only a young sage hen. This was quickly -dressed and broiled, the forked stick that served as a spit being -skilfully turned in the blaze of a fire of twigs and brushwood. The -repast was a modest one, but the wayfarer felt greatly refreshed, and -now stepped briskly on, following the water channel toward its fountain -head. - -It was indeed a beautiful valley—an ideal one—very little snow and -the deer so plentiful that at a distance they might be mistaken for -flocks of grazing sheep. The valley appeared to be exceedingly fertile -in season. It was a veritable park, and so far as the explorer could -at present determine was completely surrounded by high snow-capped -mountains which were steep enough to be called precipices. He soon came -to a dyke that ran across the valley at right angles to the stream. -It was of porphyry formation, rising to a height of from three to four -feet, and reaching right across the narrow valley from foothill to -foothill. When Major Hampton climbed upon this dyke he noticed that the -swiftly flowing brook had cut an opening through it as evenly almost as -if the work had been chiseled by man. He was anxious to know whether the -valley would lead to an opening from among the mountains, and after a -brief halt pushed hurriedly on. - -But an hour later he had retraced his steps and was again seated on -the bench-like dyke of porphyry. He had made a complete circuit of this -strange “nest” or gash in the vastness of the Rocky Mountain Range -and was convinced there was no opening. The brook had its rise in a -number of mammoth springs high up on the mountain foothills at the upper -end of the valley, where it was also fed by several waterfalls that -dropped from the dizzy cliffs far above. - -The valley was perhaps three miles long east and west and not over -one-half mile wide north and south. The contour of the mountain sides -to the south conformed to the contour on the north, justifying the -reasonable conjecture that an earthquake or violent volcanic upheaval -must have tom the mountains apart in prehistoric times. It was evidently -in all truth a hidden valley—not on the map of the U. S. Survey—a -veritable new land. - -“To think,” mused the Major, aloud, “that I have discovered a new -possession. What an asylum for the weary! Surely the day has been full -of startling surprises.” - -He was seated on the dyke almost at the very edge of the brock where the -waters were singing their song of peaceful content. He let his glance -again sweep the valley with the satisfied look of one conscious of some -unanalyzed good fortune. - -There was no snow on the porphyry dyke where he rested. It was -moss-covered in many places with the coating of countless centuries. -Most likely no human foot but his had ever pressed the sod of this -sequestered nook among the mighty mountains. The very thought was -uplifting—inspiring. Pulling his hunter’s hatchet from its sheath -he said aloud: “I christen thee ‘Hidden Valley,’”and struck -the porphyry rock a vigorous blow, so vigorous indeed that it chipped -off a goodly piece. - -Major Buell Hampton paused, astonished. He looked and then he looked -again. He picked up the chipped off piece of rock and gazed long and -earnestly at it, then rubbed his eyes in amazement. It was literally -gleaming with pure gold. - -Immediately the hatchet again came into play. Piece after piece was -broken open and all proved to be alike—rich specimens fit for the -cabinet of a collector. The drab moss-covered dyke really contained the -wealth of a King Solomon’s mine. It was true—true, though almost -unbelievable. Yet in this moment of overwhelming triumph Buell Hampton -saw not with the eyes of avarice and greed for personal gain, but rather -with the vision of the humanitarian. Unlimited wealth had always been -for him a ravishing dream, but he had longed for it, passionately, -yearningly, not as a means to supply pleasures for himself but to -assuage the miseries of a suffering world. - -He was not skilled in judging rock carrying values of precious metals, -but in this instance the merest novice could hardly be mistaken. Hastily -breaking as much of the golden ore as he could carry in his huge coat -pockets and taking one last sweeping survey over the valley, the Major -started on his return trip to Spirit River Falls. Arriving at the point -where the waters of the brook disappeared in the natural tunnel of the -“Hidden River,” the name he mentally gave to the romantic stream, -he gathered some torch material and then started on the return trip. Two -hours later he emerged from behind the turbulent waters at Spirit River -Falls. In the waning afternoon he regained his camp. After watering his -patient horse, giving it another feed of oats and apologizing with many -a gentle caressing pat for his long absence and seeming neglect, the -Major set out for home, the dressed deer strapped on behind his saddle, -with the deer skin rolled around the venison as a protection. - -Early the following morning Buell Hampton visited an assay office, -carrying with him an ore sack containing nine pounds and a half of ore. -The Major felt certain it was ore—gold ore, almost pure gold—but was -almost afraid of his own convictions. The discovery was really too good -to be true. - -The assayer tossed the sack of gold onto a table where other samples -were awaiting his skill and said: “All right, Major, come in sometime -tomorrow.” - -“It’s important,” replied the Major, “that you assay it at once. -It is high grade; I wish to sell.” - -“Oh, ho!” replied the assayer with elevated eyebrows. Possibly he -was like many another who encouraged the “high-graders” in their -nefarious thefts from their employers when they were trusted to work on -a rich property. - -“Why, Major Hampton, I didn’t know you were one of ‘em—one of -us,” and he finished with a leer and a laugh. “Bet I can tell what -mine it came from,” he went on as he leisurely untied the ore sacks. - -“I will remain right here,” replied Major Hampton firmly, without -yielding to the assayer’s offensive hilarity, “until you have my -samples assayed and make me an offer.” - -By this time the sack of rock had been emptied into an ore pan and the -astonishment depicted on the assayer’s countenance would have beggared -description. The sight of the ore staggered him into silence. Other work -was pushed hurriedly aside and before very long the fire test was in -process of being made. When finally finished the “button” weighed at -the rate of $114.67 per pound, and the assayer, still half bewildered, -handed over a check for almost eleven hundred dollars. - -“I say,” he almost shouted, “I say, Major Hampton, where in hell -did that ore come from? Surely not from any of the producing mines about -here?” - -“It seems to be a producer, all right,” replied the Major, as he -folded the check and placed it in his pocketbook. - - - - -CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE - -WHEN Buell Hampton left the assayer’s office he felt a chilliness in -the air that caused him to cast his eyes upwards. There had been bright -sunshine early that morning, but now the whole sky was overcast with a -dull monotonous gray pall. Not a breath of wind was stirring; there -was just a cold stillness in the air that told its own tale to those -experienced in the weather signs of the mountains. - -“Snow,” muttered the Major, emphatically. “It has been long in -coming this winter, but we’ll have a big fall by night.” - -The season indeed had been exceptionally mild. There had been one or two -flurries of snow, but each had been followed by warm days and the light -fall had speedily melted, at least in the open valley. High up, the -mountains had their white garb of winter, but even at these elevations -there had been no violent storms. - -Buell Hampton, however, realized that the lingering autumn was now gone, -and that soon the whole region would be in the rigorous grip of the -Snow King. Henceforth for some months to come would be chill winds, -protracted and frequently recurring downfalls of snow, great high-banked -snowdrifts in the canyons, and later on the mighty snowslides that -sheared timber-clad mountain slopes as if with a giant’s knife and -occasionally brought death and destruction to some remote mining camp. -For the present the Major’s hunting expeditions were at an end. But -as he glanced at the heavy canopy of snow-laden cloud he also knew that -days must elapse, weeks perhaps, before he could revisit the hidden -valley high up in the mountains. For yet another winter tide Nature -would hold her treasure safe from despoiling hands. - -Buell Hampton faced the situation with characteristic philosophy. All -through the afternoon he mused on his good fortune. He was glad to have -brought down even only a thousand dollars from the golden storehouse, -for this money would ensure comfort during the inclement season for a -good few humble homes. Meanwhile, like a banker with reserves of bullion -safely locked up in his vault, he could plan out the future and see how -the treasure was to be placed to best advantage. In Buell Hampton’s -case the field of investment was among the poor and struggling, and -the only dividends he cared for were increased percentages of human -happiness. The coming of winter only delayed the good work he had in -mind, but even now the consciousness of power to perform brought great -joy to his heart. Alone in his home he paced the big room, only pausing -at times to throw another log on the fire or gaze awhile into the -glowing embers, day-dreaming, unspeakably happy in his day-dreams. - -Meanwhile, in anticipation of the coming snowstorm, young Warfield was -riding the range and gathering cattle and yearlings that had strayed -away from the herd. As he was surmounting a rather steep foothill across -the valleys to the westward between the two Encampment rivers, he was -startled at hearing the patter of a horse’s hoofs. Quickly looking up -he saw a young woman on horseback dashing swiftly along and swinging -a lariat. She wore a divided brown skirt, wide sombrero, fringed -gauntlets, and sat her horse with graceful ease and confidence. She was -coming down the mountainside at right angles to his course. - -Bringing his pony quickly to a standstill Roderick watched the spirited -horse-woman as she let go her lariat at an escaping yearling that -evidently had broken out of some corral The lariat went straight to its -mark, and almost at the same moment he heard her voice as she spoke -to her steed, quickly but in soft melodious tones: “That will do, -Fleetfoot. Whoa!” Instantly the well-trained horse threw himself well -back on his haunches and veered to the left. The fleeing yearling was -caught around one of its front feet and thrown as neatly as the most -expert cowboy on the range could have done it. - -“By George,” said Roderick to himself, “what a fine piece of -work.” He watched with admiring eyes as the young lady sat her horse -in an attitude of waiting. Presently a cowboy rode up, and relieving -her of the catch started the yearling back, evidently toward the corral. -Turning about, the horsewoman started her horse at a canter directly -toward him, and Roderick fell to wondering what sort of a discovery he -had made. - -A moment later she brought her horse to a standstill and acknowledged -his salutation as he lifted his sombrero. He saw the red blood glowing -under the soft tan of her cheeks, and as their eyes met he was fairly -dazzled by her beauty. He recognized at a glance the western type of -girl, frank and fearless, accustomed to the full and health-giving -freedom of life in the open, yet accomplished and domesticated, equally -at home in the most tastefully adorned drawing room as here on horseback -among the mountains. - -“I beg pardon,” he said in a stammering way, “but can I be of any -service?” - -At his words she pulled her pony to a standstill and said: “In what -way, pray?”—and there was a mischievous smile at Roderick’s -obvious embarrassment. - -“Why, I saw you lariating a yearling.” - -“Oh,” she said, throwing back her head and laughing softly, “that -was a long time ago. It is doubtless in the corral by now.” - -As she spoke, Roderick dismounted. He was capable now of assimilating -details, and noted the silken dark Egyptian locks that fell in fluffy -waves over her temples in a most bewitching manner, and the eyes that -shone with the deep dark blue of the sapphire. His gaze must have -betrayed his admiration, for, courteously waving her hand, she touched -with her spurs the flanks of her mount and bounded away across the -hills. Roderick was left standing in wonderment. - -“Who the dickens can she be?” he soliloquized. “I’ve been riding -the range for a good many weeks, but this is the first time I’ve -spotted this mountain beauty.” - -Throwing himself onto his horse, he started down toward the south -fork of the Encampment river and on to the westward the Shields ranch, -wondering as he rode along who this strange girl of the hills could be. -Once or twice he thought of Stella Rain and he manfully endeavored to -keep his mind concentrated on the one to whom he was betrothed, running -over in memory her last letter, reckoning the time that must elapse -before the next one would arrive, recalling the tender incidents of -their parting now two months ago. But his efforts were in vain. Always -there kept recurring the vision of loveliness he had encountered on the -range, and the mystery that surrounded the fair rider’s identity. Once -again since Major Buell Hampton’s long diatribe on love and matrimony, -he was vaguely conscious that his impetuous love-making on that -memorable evening at Galesburg might have been a mistake, and that the -little “college widow” in her unselfishness had spoken words of -wisdom when she had counselled him to wait awhile—until he really did -know his own mind—until he had really tried out his own heart, yes, -until—Great heavens, he found himself recalling her very words, -spoken with tears in her soft pretty eyes: “That’s just the trouble, -Roderick. You do not know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you -won’t know until the other girl comes along.” - -Had the other girl at last come? But at the disloyal thought he spurred -his horse to a gallop, and as he did so the first snowflakes of the -coming storm fluttered cold and damp against his flushed cheeks. At last -he thought of other things; he was wondering now, as he glanced around -into the thickening atmosphere, whether all the stray mavericks were at -last safe in the winter pastures and corrals. - - - - -CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES - -THAT night the big snow storm did indeed come, and when Roderick woke -up next morning it was to find mountain and valley covered with a vast -bedspread of immaculate white and the soft snowflakes still descending -like a feathery down. The storm did not catch Mr. Shields unprepared; -his vast herds were safe and snug in their winter quarters. - -The break in the weather marked the end of Roderick’s range riding -for the season. He was now a stock feeder and engaged in patching up the -corrals and otherwise playing his part of a ranch hand. And with this -stay-at-home life he found himself thinking more and more of the real -mission that had brought him into this land of mountains. Nearly every -night when his work was finished, he studied a certain map of the -hills—the inheritance left him by his father. On this map were noted -“Sheep Mountain,” “Bennet Peak,” “Hahn’s Peak” and several -other prominent landmarks. From his own acquaintance with the country -Roderick now knew that the lost valley was quite a distance to the south -and west from the Shields ranch. - -Thus the wintry days wore on, and with their passing Roderick became -more and more firm in his determination to be ready, when the snow was -gone in the spring, to take up his father’s unfinished task of finding -again the sandbar abounding with nuggets of gold. Indeed in his life of -isolation it gradually came about that he thought of little else by day -and dreamed of nothing else at night. Sometimes in the solitude of his -room he smiled at his loneliness. What a change from the old college -days—from the stir and excitement of New York. During the winter he -had been invited to a score of gatherings, dances, and parties, but -somehow he had become taciturn and had declined all invitations. - -Then, with stern self-control he had succeeded in putting out of mind the -mysterious beauty of the range. Love at first sight!—he had laughed -down such silliness, and rooted out of his heart the base treason that -had even for a fleeting moment permitted such a thought. Yes, there was -nothing but firmest loyalty in his mind for Stella Rain, who was waiting -for him so faithfully and patiently, and whose letters cheered him and -filled him with greater determination than ever to find the lost mine. - -His labors on the ranch were arduous but his health was excellent. At -college he had been an athlete—now he was a rugged, bronzed-faced son -of the hills. His only recreations were laying plans for the future and -writing letters to Stella. - -Not infrequently his mind wandered back to Keokuk, the old river town, -and his heart grew regretful that he had quarreled with his Unde Allen -Miller, and his thoughts were tender of his Aunt Lois. Once he wrote -a letter to Whitley Adams, then tore it up in a dissatisfied way, -returning to the determination to make his fortune before communicating -with his old friends. - -And so the winter passed, and spring had come again. - -It was one morning in early May, just after he had finished his chores, -when to his surprise Grant Jones shouted to him through the corral -fence: “Hello, old man, how is ranching agreeing with you, anyway?” - -“Fine,” responded Roderick, “fine and dandy.” He let himself -through the gate of the corral and shook hands with Grant. “Come up to -the bunk house; seems mighty good to see you.” - -“Thanks,” responded Grant, as they walked along. “Do you know, -Warfield, I have been shut up over on the other side of the range ever -since that first big snow-storm? I paddled out on snowshoes only once -during the winter, and then walked over the tops of trees. Plenty of -places up on the Sierra Madre,” continued Grant, nodding his head to -the westward, “where the snow is still twenty to thirty feet deep. -If a fellow had ever broken through, why, of course, he would have been -lost until the spring.” - -“Terrible to think about,” said Roderick. - -“Oh, that’s not all,” said Grant with his old exuberant laugh. -“It would have been so devilish long from a fellow’s passing until -his obituary came to be written. That is what gets on my nerves when -I’m out on snowshoes. Of course the columns of the Doublejack are -always open to write-ups on dead unfortunates, but it likes to have -‘em as near as possible to the actual date of demise. Then it’s live -news.” - -“Sounds rather grewsome,” said Roderick, smiling at Grant’s oddity -of expression. - -Arriving at the bunk house, they were soon seated around a big stove -where a brisk fire was burning, for the air without was still sharp and -the wind cutting and cold. - -“I can offer you a pipe and some mighty fine tobacco,” said -Roderick, pushing a tray toward him carrying a jar of tobacco and -half-a-dozen cob pipes. - -“Smells good,” commented Grant, as he accepted and began to fill one -of the pipes. - -“Well, tell me something about yourself, Grant. I supposed the -attraction over here at the ranch was quite enough to make you brave -snowstorms and snow-slides and thirty-foot snowdrifts.” - -“Warfield,” said Grant, half seriously, between puffs at his -pipe, “that is what I want to talk with you about. The inducement is -sufficient for all you suggest. She is a wonder. Without any question, -Dorothy Shields is the sweetest girl that ever lived.” - -“Hold on,” smiled Roderick. “There may be others in the different -parts of the world.” - -“Is that so?” ejaculated Grant with a rising inflection, while his -countenance suggested an interrogation point. - -“No, I have no confessions to make,” rejoined Roderick, as he struck -a match to light his pipe. - -“Well, that’s just what is troubling me,” said Grant, still -serious. “I was just wondering if anyone else had been browsing on my -range over here at the Shields ranch while I have been penned up like -a groundhog, getting out my weekly edition of the Dillon Doublejock, -sometimes only fifty papers at an issue. Think of it!” And they both -laughed at the ludicrous meagerness of such a circulation. - -“But never mind,” continued Grant, reflectively, “I will run my -subscriptions up to three or four hundred in sixty days when the snow is -off the ground.” - -“Yes, that is all very well, old man. But when will the snow be off? I -am considerably interested myself, for I want to do some prospecting.” - -“Hang your prospecting,” said Grant, “or when the snow will go -either. You haven’t answered my question.” - -“Oh, as to whether anyone has been browsing on your range?” -exclaimed Roderick. “I must confess I do not know. They have had -dances and parties and all that sort of thing but—I really don’t -know, I have not felt in the mood and declined to attend. How do you -find the little queen of your heart? Has she forgotten you?” - -“No-o,” responded Grant, slowly. “But dam it all, I can’t talk -very well before the whole family. I am an out-door man. You give me the -hills as a background and those millions of wild flowers that color our -valleys along in July like Joseph’s coat, and it makes me bubble over -with poetry and I can talk to beat a phonograph monologist.” This was -said in a jovial, joking tone, but beneath it all Roderick knew there -was much serious truth. - -“How is it, Grant? Are you pretty badly hit?” - -“Right square between the eyes, old man. Why, do you know, sitting -over in that rocky gorge of Dillon canyon in the little town of Dillon, -writing editorials for the Double jack month after month and no one to -read my paper, I have had time to think it all over, and I have made up -my mind to come here to the Shields ranch and tell Dorothy it is my firm -conviction that she is the greatest woman on top of the earth, and -that life to me without her is simply—well, I don’t have words to -describe the pitiful loneliness of it all without her.” - -Roderick leaned back in his chair and laughed hilariously at his friend. - -“This is no joking matter,” said Grant. “I’m a goner.” - -Just then there came a knock at the door and Roderick hastily arose to -bid welcome to the caller. To the surprise of both the visitor proved to -be Major Buell Hampton. - -Major Hampton exchanged cordial greetings and expressed his great -pleasure at finding his two young friends together. Accepting the -invitation to be seated, he drew his meerschaum from his pocket and -proceeded to fill from a tobacco pouch made of deer skin. - -“My dear Mr. Jones and’ Mr. Warfield,” he began, “where have you -been all through the winter?” - -“For myself, right here doing chores about twelve hours per day,” -answered Roderick. - -“As for me,” said Grant, “I have been way over ‘yonder’ -editing the Dillon Doublejack. I have fully a score of subscribers who -would have been heartbroken if I had missed a single issue. I snow-shoed -in to Encampment once, but your castle was locked and nobody seemed to -know where you had gone, Major.” - -Jones had again laughed good-naturedly over the limited circulation of -his paper. Major Hampton smiled, while Roderick observed that there was -nothing like living in a literary atmosphere. - -“If your circulation is small your persistence is certainly -commendable,” observed the Major, looking benignly at Jones but not -offering to explain his absence from Encampment when Jones had called. -“I have just paid my respects,” he went on, “to Mr. and Mrs. -Shields and their lovely daughters, and learned that you were also -visiting these hospitable people. My errand contemplated calling -upon Mr. Warfield as well. I almost feel I have been neglected. The -latchstring hangs on the outside of my door for Mr. War-field as well as -for you, Mr. Jones.” - -“Many thanks,” observed Roderick. - -“Your compliment is not unappreciated,” said Grant. “When do you -return to Encampment?” - -“Immediately after luncheon,” replied the Major. - -“Very well, I will go along with you,” said Grant. “I came over on -my skis.” - -“It will be a pleasure for me to extend the hospitality of the -comfortable riding sled that brought me over,” responded the Major -with Chesterfieldian politeness. “Jim Rankin is one of the safest -drivers in the country and he has a fine spirited team, while the -sledding is simply magnificent.” - -“Although the jingle of sleigh-bells always makes me homesick,” -remarked Roderick, “I’d feel mighty pleased to return with you.” - -“It will be your own fault, Mr. Warfield, if you do not accompany us. -I have just been talking to Mr. Shields, and he says you are the most -remarkable individual he has ever had on his ranch—a regular hermit -They never see you up at the house, and you have not been away from the -ranch for months, while the young ladies, Miss Barbara and Miss Dorothy, -think it perfectly horrid—to use their own expression—that you never -leave your quarters here or spend an evening with the family.” - -“Roderick,” observed Grant, “I never thought you were a stuck-up -prig before, but now I know you for what you are. But there must be an -end to such exclusiveness. Let someone else do the chores. Get ready -and come on back to Encampment with us, and we’ll have a royal evening -together at the Major’s home.” - -“Excellent idea,” responded the Major. “I have some great secrets -to impart—but I am not sure I will tell you one of them,” he added -with a good-natured smile. The others laughed at his excess of caution. - -“Very well,” said Roderick, “if Mr. Shields can spare me for a few -days I’ll accept your invitation.” - -At this moment the door was opened unceremoniously and in walked the two -Miss Shields. The men hastily arose and laid aside their pipes. - -“We are here as messengers,” said Miss Dorothy, smiling. “You, Mr. -Warfield, are to come up to the house and have dinner with us as well as -the Major and Grant.” - -“Glorious,” said Grant, smiling broadly. “Roderick, did you hear -that? She calls you Mr. Warfield and she calls me Grant. Splendid, -splendid!” - -“I know somebody that will have their ears cuffed in a moment,” -observed Miss Dorothy. - -“Again I ejaculate splendid!” said Grant in great hilarity, as if -daring her. - -“It is a mystery to me,” observed the Major, “how two such -charming young ladies can remain so unappreciated.” - -“Why, Major,” protested Barbara, “we are not unappreciated. -Everybody thinks we are just fine.” - -“Major,” observed Grant with great solemnity, “this is an -opportunity I have long wanted.” He cleared his throat, winked at -Roderick, made a sweeping glance at the young ladies and observed: “I -wanted to express my admiration, yes, I might say my affection for—” - -Dorothy’s face was growing pink. She divined Grant’s ardent feelings -although he had spoken not one word of love to her. Lightly springing to -his side, she playfully but firmly placed her hands over his mouth and -turned whatever else he had to say into incoherency. - -This ended Grant’s declaration. Even Major Buell Hampton smiled and -Roderick inquired: “Grant, what are you mumbling about?” - -Dorothy dropped her hand. - -“Oh, just trying to tell her to keep me muzzled forever,” Grant -smiled, and Dorothy’s cheeks were red with blushes. - -With this final sally all started for the big ranch house where they -found that a sumptuous meal had been prepared. - -During the repast Barbara learned of the proposed reunion of the three -friends at Encampment, and insisted that her father should give a few -days’ vacation to Mr. Warfield. The favor was quickly granted, and an -hour later Jim Rankin brought up his bob-sled and prancing team, and -to the merry sound of the sleigh-bells Major Buell Hampton and the two -young men sped away for Encampment. - -It was arranged that Roderick and Grant should have an hour or two to -themselves and then call later in the evening on the Major. - -Roderick was half irritated to find no letter at the post office from -Stella Rain. In point of fact, during the past two months, he had been -noticing longer and longer gaps in her correspondence. Sometimes he felt -his vanity touched and was inclined to be either angry or humiliated. -But at other times he just vaguely wondered whether his loved one was -drifting away from him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND - -WHEN Grant Jones and Roderick arrived at the Major’s home that evening -they found other visitors already installed before the cheerful blaze of -the open hearth. These were Tom Sun, owner of more sheep than any -other man in the state; Boney Earnest, the blast furnace man in the big -smelting plant; and Jim Rankin, who had joined his two old cronies after -unharnessing the horses from the sleigh. - -Cordial introductions and greetings were exchanged. Although Roderick -had shaken hands before with Boney Earnest, this was their first meeting -in a social way. And it was the very first time he had encountered Tom -Sun. Therefore the fortuitous gathering of his father’s three old -friends came to him as a pleasant surprise. He was glad of the chance to -get better acquainted. - -While the company were settling themselves in chairs around the -fireplace, Jim Rankin seized the moment for a private confabulation with -Roderick. He drew the young man into a corner and addressed him in a -mysterious whisper: “By gunnies, Mr. War-field, it sure is powerful -good to have yer back agin. It’s seemed a tarnation long winter. But -you bet I’ve been keepin’ my mind on things—our big secret—you -know.” - -Roderick nodded and Rankin went on: “I’ve been prognosticatin’ -out this here way and then that way on a dozen trips after our -onderstandin’, searchin’ like fur that business; but dang my buttons -it’s pesterin’ hard to locate and don’t you forgit it. Excuse us, -gentlemen, we are talkin’ about certain private matters but we don’t -mean ter be impolite. I’m ‘lowin’ it’s the biggest secret in -these diggin’s—ain’t that right, Roderick?” - -Rankin laughed good-humoredly at his own remarks as he took out his -tobacco pouch of fine cut and stowed away a huge cud. “You bet yer -life,” he continued between vigorous chews, “somebody is nachurlly -going to be a heap flustrated ‘round here one of these days, leastways -that’s what we’re assoomin’.” - -“Say, Jim,” observed Tom Sun, “what are you talkin’ about -anyway? Boney, I think Jim is just as crazy as ever.” - -“I reckon that’s no lie,” responded Boney, good-naturedly. -“Always was as crazy as a March hare with a bone in its throat.” - -“Say, look here you fellows, yer gittin’ tumultuous,” exclaimed -Rankin, “you’re interferin’. Say, Major Hampton, I’m not a -dangnation bit peevish or nuthin’ like that, but do you know who are -the four biggest and most ponderous liars in the state of Wyoming?” -The Major looked up in surprise but did not reply. “Waal,” said -Rankin, expectorating toward the burning logs in the open hearth and -proceeding to answer his own question, “Boney Earnest is sure one -uv ‘em, I am one uv ‘em, and Tom Sun is ‘tother two.” Rankin -guffawed loudly. This brought forth quite an expression of merriment -The only reply from Tom Sun was that his thirty odd years of association -with Jim Rankin and Boney Earnest was quite enough to make a prince of -liars of anyone. - -Presently the Major said: “Gentlemen, after taking a strict inventory -I find there are six men in the world for whom I entertain an especial -interest. Of course, my mission in life in a general way is in behalf -of humanity, but there are six who have come to be closer to me than all -the rest Five of them are before me. Of the other I will not speak at -this time. I invited you here this evening because you represent in a -large measure the things that I stand for. The snow will soon be going, -spring is approaching and great things will happen during the next -year—far greater than you dream of. You are friends of mine and I -have decided under certain restrictions to share with you an important -secret.” - -Thereupon he pointed to some little sacks, until now unnoticed, that lay -on the center table. “Untie these sacks and empty the contents onto -the table if you will, Mr. Warfield.” Roderick complied. - -Each sack held about a hatful of broken rock, and to the amazement of -the Major’s guests Roderick emptied out on the table the richest gold -ores that any of them had ever beheld. They were porphyry and white -quartz, shot full of pure gold and stringers of gold. Indeed the pieces -of quartz were seemingly held together with purest wire gold. - -The natural query that was in the heart of everyone was soon given voice -by Jim Rankin. After scanning the remarkable exhibit he turned to Major -Buell Hampton and exclaimed: “Gosh ‘lmighty, Major, where did this -here come from?” - -“A most natural question but one which I am not inclined to answer at -this time,” said the Major, smiling benignly. “Gentlemen, it is my -intention that everyone present shall share with me in a substantial way -in the remarkable discovery, the evidence of which is lying before you. -There are five of you and I enjoin upon each the most solemn pledge of -secrecy, even as regards the little you have yet learned of the great -secret which I possess.” - -They all gave their pledges, and the Major went on: “There is enough -of these remarkably rich ores for everyone. But should the slightest -evidence come to me that anyone of you gentlemen has been so -thoughtless, or held the pledge you have just made so lightly, that you -have shared with any outsider the information so far given, his name -will assuredly be eliminated from this pact. Therefore, it is not only -a question of honor but a question of self-interest, and I feel sure the -former carries with it more potency with each of you than the latter.” - -In the meantime Roderick was closely examining the samples of gold. -Instinctively he had put his hand to the inside pocket of his coat and -felt for his father’s map. He was wondering whether Buell Hampton had -come into possession of the identical piece of knowledge he himself was -searching for. Presently Jim Rankin whispered in his ear: “By gunnies, -Warfield, I guess the Major has beat us to it.” - -But Roderick shook his head reassuringly. He remembered that his -father’s find was placer gold—water-worn nuggets taken from a -sandbar in some old channel, as the sample in Jim Rankin’s own -possession showed. The ores he was now holding were of quite a different -class—they had been broken from the living rock. - -After the specimens had been returned to the sample sacks and the -excitement had quieted a little, Major Hampton threw his head back in -his own princely way, as he sat in his easy chair before the fire and -observed: “Money may be a blessing or it may be a curse. Personally I -shall regret the discovery if a single dollar of this wealth, which it -is in my power to bring to the light of day, should ever bring sorrow to -humanity. It is my opinion that the richest man in the world should not -possess more than a quarter of a million dollars at most, and even that -amount is liable to make a very poor citizen out of an otherwise -good man. Unnecessary wealth merely stimulates to abnormal or wicked -extravagance. It is also self-evident that a more equal distribution of -wealth would obtain if millionaires were unknown, and greater happiness -would naturally follow.” - -“Yes, but the world requires ‘spenders’ as well as -getters,’”laughed Tom Sun. “Otherwise we would all be dying -of sheer weariness of each other.” - -“Surely, there are arguments on both sides,” assented the Major. -“It is a difficult problem. I was merely contending that a community -of comparatively poor people who earn their bread by the sweat of -their brow—tilling the soil and possessed of high ideals of good -citizenship—such people beyond question afford the greatest example of -contentment, morality and happiness. Great wealth is the cause of some -of our worst types of degeneracy. However,” he concluded, knocking the -ashes from his pipe, “it is not my purpose this evening to sermonize. -Nor do I intend at present to say anything more about the rich gold -discovery I have made except to reiterate my assurance that at the -proper time all you gentlemen will be called on to share in the -enterprise and in its profits. Now I believe some of you”—and he -looked at Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest as he spoke—“have -another engagement tonight. It was only at my special request, Mr. -Warfield, that they remained to meet you and Mr. Jones.” - -“And we’re much obliged to you, Major,” said Boney Earnest, -arising and glancing at his watch. “Hope old John Warfield’s boy and -I will get still better acquainted. But I’ve got to be going now. You -see my wife insisted that I bring the folks back early so that she might -have a visit with Mr. Rankin and Mr. Sun.” - -Tom Sun shook hands cordially. - -“Glad to have met you, Mr. Warfield,” he said, “for your -father’s sake as well as your own. I trust we’ll meet often. -Good-night, Mr. Jones.” - -Rankin whispered something to Roderick, but Roderick did not catch the -words, and when he attempted to inquire the old fellow merely nodded -his head and said aloud: “You bet your life; I’m assoomin’ this is -jist ‘tween me and you.” Roderick smiled at this oddity, as the man -of mystery followed his friends from the room. - -When the door closed and Roderick and Grant were alone with the -Major, pipes were again lighted, and a spell of silence fell upon the -group—the enjoyable silence of quiet companionship. The Major showed -no disposition to re-open the subject of the rich gold discovery, nor -did Roderick feel inclined to press for further information. As he -mused, however, he became more firmly convinced than before that his -secret was still his own—that Buell Hampton, in this rugged mountain -region with its many undiscovered storehouses of wealth, had tumbled on -a different gold-bearing spot to that located by Uncle Allen Miller and -his father. Some day, perhaps, he would show the Major the letter and -the map. But to do this now might seem like begging the favor of further -confidences, so until these were volunteered Roderick must pursue his -own lonesome trail. The mere sight of the gold, however, had quickened -his pulse beats. To resume the humdrum life at the ranch seemed -intolerable. He longed to be out on the hills with his favorite pony -Badger, searching every nook and corner for the hidden treasure. - -Presently Buell Hampton arose and laid his pipe aside, and going to a -curtained corner of the room returned with his violin. And long into -the night, with only a fitful light from the burning logs in the -open fireplace, the Major played for his young friends. It seemed his -repertoire was without beginning and without end. As he played his moods -underwent many changes. Now he was gay and happy, at another moment -sad and wistful. He passed from sweet low measures into wild, thrilling -abandonment. Now he was drawing divine harmony from the strings by -dainty caresses, again he was almost brutally compelling them to render -forth the fierce passion of music that was surging in his own soul. The -performance held the listeners spellbound—left them for the moment -speechless when at last the player dropped into a chair. The instrument -was laid across his knees; he was still fondling it with gentle touches -and taps from his long slender fingers. - -“You love your violin, Major,” Roderick at last managed to -articulate. - -“Yes,” came the low-spoken fervent reply, “every crease, crevice -and string of the dear old Cremona that was given me more than half a -century ago.” - -“I wish,” said Grant, “that I could express my appreciation of the -wonderful entertainment you have given us tonight.” - -“You are very complimentary,” replied the Major, bestirring himself. -He rose, laid the violin on the table, and brightened up the fire with -additional fuel. - -“But I’m afraid we must be going,” added Grant. “It is getting -late.” - -“Well, I have a message for you young gentlemen,” said the Major. -“You are invited to attend one of the most distinguished soirees ever -given in the Platte River Valley. Mr. and Mrs. Shields mentioned this -today, and made me the special messenger to extend the invitation to you -both.” - -“Splendid,” exclaimed Grant. “When does this come off?” - -“Two weeks from this evening,” replied the Major. “And we will -have a comparative newcomer to the valley to grace the occasion. She -has been here through the late fall and winter, but has been too busy -nursing her sick and bereaved old father to go out into society.” - -“General Holden’s daughter?” queried Grant. - -“The same. And Gail Holden is certainly a most beautiful young lady. -Have you seen her, Mr. War-field?” - -“Not that I’m aware of,” replied Roderick. - -“A most noble young woman, too,” continued the Major. “They are -Illinois people. The mother died last year under sad circumstances—all -the family fortune swept away. But the girl chanced to own these Wyoming -acres in her own right, so she brought her father here, and has started -a little cattle ranch, going in for pedigreed dairy stock and likely to -do well too, make no mistake. You should just see her swing a lariat,” -the speaker added with a ring of admiration in his tone. - -Roderick started. Great Scott! could this be the fair horsewoman he had -encountered on the mountain side just before the coming of the big snow. -But a vigorous slap on his shoulder administered by Grant broke him from -reverie. - -“Why don’t you say something, old fellow? Isn’t this glorious -news? Are you not delighted at the opportunity of tripping the light -fantastic toe with a beauty from Illinois as well as our own home-grown -Wyoming belles?” - -“Well,” replied Roderick slowly, “I have not been attending any of -these affairs, although I may do so in this instance.” - -“Miss Barbara Shields,” said the Major, “especially requested me -to tell you, Mr. Warfield, that she positively insists on your being -present.” - -“Ho, ho!” laughed Grant. “So you’ve made a hit in that quarter, -eh, Roderick? Well, better a prospective brother-in-law than a dangerous -rival. Dorothy’s mine, and don’t you forget it.” - -Grant’s boyish hilarity was contagious, his gay audacity amusing. -Even the Major laughed heartily. But Roderick was blushing furiously. A -moment before he had been thinking of one fair charmer. And now here was -another being thrown at him, so to speak, although in jest and not in -earnest. Barbara Shields—he had never dared to think of her as within -his reach even had not loyalty bound his affections elsewhere. But the -complications seemed certainly to be thickening. - -“Come along, old chap,” said Grant, as they gained the roadway. -“We’ll have a look through the town, just to see if there’s any -news about.” - -THE Bazaar was a popular resort. The proprietor was known as -“Southpaw.” Doubtless he had another name but it was not known -in the mining camp. Even his bank account was carried in the name of -“Southpaw.” - -When Roderick and Grant entered the saloon they found a motley crowd -at the bar and in the gaming room, fully twenty cowboys with their -broad-rimmed sombreros, wearing hairy chaps, decorated with fancy belts -and red handkerchiefs carelessly tied about their necks. Evidently one -of them had just won at the wheel and they were celebrating. - -The brilliant lights and the commingling of half a hundred miners and -many cowboys presented a spectacular appearance that was both novel -and interesting. Just behind them came shuffling into the room a short, -stout, heavily-built man with a scowling face covered with a short -growth of black whiskers. His eyes were small and squinty, his forehead -low and his chin protruding. - -Roderick and Grant were standing at the end of the bar, waiting for -lemonades they had ordered. Roderick’s attention was attracted by the -uncouth newcomer. - -“Grant, who is that gorilla-looking chap?” he asked. - -Grant half turned with a sweeping glance and then looking back at -Roderick, replied: “That is Bud Bledsoe. He is a sort of sleuth for -Grady, the manager of the smelting plant, the man I introduced you to, -remember, the first day you came to Encampment.” - -“I remember Grady all right,” nodded Roderick. - -“Well, many people believe he keeps Bledsoe around him to do his dirty -work. A while ago there was a grave suspicion that this chap committed -a terrible crime, doubtless inspired by Grady, but it is not known -positively and of course Grady is all-powerful and nothing was said -about it outright.” - -In the meantime Bud Bledsoe walked into the back part of the room, and -finding a vacant seat at a gaming table bought a stack of chips and -was soon busy over his cards. Presently the two friends, having lighted -fresh cigars, left the saloon. - -Grant looked into two or three other places, but finding there was -“nothing doing,” no news of any kind stirring, at last turned for -home. Entering the familiar old bachelor shack, Roderick too felt at -home, and it was not long before a cheerful fire was kindled and going. -Grant was leaning an elbow on the mantel above and talking to Roderick -of the pleasure he anticipated at the coming dance over at the Shields -place. - -“I wonder what Miss Barbara meant when she sent that special message -to you, Roderick? Have you a ground wire of some kind with the young -lady and are you on more intimate relations than I have been led to -believe?” - -Grant smiled broadly at Roderick as he asked the question. - -“Search me,” replied Roderick. “I have never spoken to her -excepting in the presence of other people.” - -“I presume you know,” Grant went on, “that she is the object of -Carlisle’s affections and he gets awfully jealous if anyone pays court -to her?” - -“And who’s Carlisle?” asked Roderick, looking up quickly. - -“Oh, he is the great lawyer,” replied Grant “W. Henry Carlisle. -Have you never heard of the feud between Carlisle and Attorney -Bragdon?” - -“No,” said Roderick. “Both names are new to me.” - -“Oh, I supposed everybody knew about their forensic battles. You see, -W. Henry Carlisle is the attorney for the Smelter and Ben Bragdon is -without doubt the most eloquent young lawyer that ever stood before a -jury in southern Wyoming. These two fellows are usually against each -other in all big lawsuits in these parts of the country, and you should -see the courthouse fill up when there is a jury trial.” - -Roderick did not seem especially interested, and throwing his cigar -stub into the open fire, he filled his pipe. “Now, I’ll have a real -smoke,” he observed as he pressed a glowing firestick from the hearth -down on the tobacco. - -“Grady and Carlisle are together in all financial ventures,” Grant -continued. - -“Don’t look as if you are very fond of this man Grady,” commented -Roderick. - -“Fond of him?” ejaculated Grant in disgust; “he is the most -obnoxious creature in the district. He treats everybody who is working -for him as if they were dogs. He has this bruiser, Bud Bledsoe, as a -sort of bodyguard and this W. Henry Carlisle as a legal protector, so he -attempts to walk rough shod over everybody—indifferent and insolent. -Oh, let’s not talk about Grady. I become indecently indignant whenever -I think of his outrages against some of the poor fellows in this -camp.” - -“All right,” said Roderick, jovially looking up; “let us talk -about the dance and especially Miss Dorothy.” - -“That’s the text,” said Grant, “Dorothy—Dorothy Shields-Jones. -Won’t that make a corker of a name though? If I tell you a secret will -you promise it shall be sacred?” - -“Certainly,” replied Roderick. - -“Well,” said Grant, reddening, “while I was over there at the -Dillon Doublejack office, isolated from the world, surrounded with -mountains and snow—nothing but snow and snowbanks and high mountains -in every direction, why, I played job printer and set up some cards with -a name thereon—can’t you guess?” - -“Impossible,” said Roderick, smiling broadly. - -“Well, Mrs. Dorothy Shields-Jones,” he repeated slowly, then laughed -uproariously at the confession. - -“Let me see one of the cards,” asked Roderick. - -“Oh, no, I only kept the proof I pulled before pieing the type, and -that I have since torn up. But just wait That girl’s destiny is marked -out for her,” continued Grant, enthusiastically, “and believe me, -Warfield, I shall make her life a happy one.” - -“Hope you’ve convinced her of that, old man?” - -“Convinced her! Why I haven’t had the courage yet to say a word,” -replied Grant, somewhat shamefacedly. “I’m going to rely on you to -speak up for me when the critical moment arrives.” - -“It was rather premature, certainly, to print the lady’s -double-barreled-name visiting card,” laughed Roderick. “But there, -you know I’m with you and for you all the time.” And he extended the -hand of brotherly comradeship. - -“And about you and Barbara?” ventured Grant, tentatively. “I’ve -heard your name mentioned in connection with hers several times.” - -“Oh, forget all that rot,” responded Roderick, flushing slightly. He -had never mentioned the “college widow” to his friend, and felt that -he was sailing under false colors. “It will be a long time before I -can think of such matters,” he went on, turning toward his accustomed -stretcher. “Let’s get to bed. It has been a long day, and I for one -am tired.” - -A few minutes later lights were out. - -When they got up next morning, they found that a letter had been pushed -under the door. Warfield picked it up and read the scrawled inscription. -It was addressed to Grant. - -“Gee,” said Grant as he took the letter from Roderick, “this -town is forging ahead mighty fast. Free delivery. Who in the demnition -bowwows do you suppose could have done this?” - -Opening the envelope he spread the letter on the table, and both bent -above it to read its contents. There was just a couple of lines, in -printed characters. - -Words had been cut out of a newspaper apparently, and stuck on the white -sheet of paper. They read as follows: “Tell your friend to let Barbara -alone or his hide will be shot full of holes.” - -Grant and Roderick stood looking at each other, speechless with -amazement. Barbara was the only written word. - -“What can be the meaning of this?” inquired Roderick. - -“Beyond me,” replied Grant. “Evidently others besides myself have -come to think you are interested in Barbara Shields. Possibly the young -lady has been saying nice things about you, and somebody is jealous.” - -“Rank foolishness,” exclaimed Roderick hotly. Then he laughed, as -he added: “However, if the young lady interested me before she becomes -all the more interesting now. But let the incident drop. We shall see -what we shall see.” - -They walked up the street to a restaurant and breakfasted. - -“It might be,” remarked Grant, referring back to the strange letter, -“that Attorney Carlisle, who they say is daffy over Barbara Shields, -has had that sleuth of Grady’s, Bud Bledsoe, fix up this letter to -sort of scare you off.” - -Grant laughed good-humoredly as he said this. - -“Scare me off like hell,” said Roderick in disgust. “I am not -easily scared with anonymous letters. Only cowards write that sort of -stuff.” - -They arose from the table and turned down the street towards the -smelting plant It was necessary to keep well on the sidewalks and away -from the mud in the roadway, for the weather was turning warm and snow -was melting very fast. - -“There will be no sleighs and sleigh-bells at the Shields’ -entertainment,” observed Grant. “This snow in the lowlands will all -be gone in a day or two.” - -They paused on a street corner and noticed five logging outfits -swinging slowly down the street, then turn into the back yard of Buell -Hampton’s home and begin unloading. - -“What do you suppose Major Hampton can want with all those logs?” -asked Grant. - -“Let us make a morning call on the Major,” suggested Roderick. - -“Right you are,” assented Grant. - -The Major extended his usual hearty welcome. He had evidently been busy -at his writing table. - -“We came down,” said Grant, “to get a job cutting wood.” - -The Major looked out of the window at the great stack of logs and -smiled. “No, young gentlemen,” he said, “those logs are not for -firewood but to build an addition to my humble home. You see, I have -a small kitchen curtained off in the rear, and back of that I intend -putting in an extra room. I expect to have ample use for this additional -accommodation, but just at this time perhaps will not explain its -purposes. Won’t you be seated?” - -They pulled up chairs before the fire, which was smouldering low, for in -the moderated condition of the weather a larger fire was not needed. - -“Only for a moment, Major. We do not wish to take you from your work, -whatever it may be. I will confess,” Grant went on, smiling, “that -we were curious to know about the logs, and decided we would look in on -you and satisfy our curiosity; and then, too, we have the pleasure of -saying hello.” - -“Very kind of you, very kind, I am sure,” responded the Major; -and turning to Roderick he inquired when he expected to return to the -Shields ranch. - -“I am going out this afternoon,” replied Roderick. “By the way, -Major, do you expect to be at the Shields’ entertainment?” - -“No, it is hardly probable. I am very busy and then, too, I am far -past the years when such functions interest. Nevertheless, I can well -understand how two young gentlemen like yourselves will thoroughly enjoy -an entertainment given by such hospitable people as the Shields.” - -Soon after they took their leave and walked up the street. Grant made -arrangements to start directly after luncheon for Dillon, where copy had -to be got ready for the next issue of his paper. - -As Roderick rode slowly across the valley that afternoon, his mind dwelt -on the rich gold discovery made by Buell Hampton, and he evolved plans -for getting promptly to serious prospecting work on his own account. -Sometimes too he caught himself thinking of the strange girl of the -hills who could throw a lasso so cleanly and cleverly; he wondered if -their paths would ever cross again. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY - -THE night of the big fiesta at the Shields ranch had arrived, and the -invited guests had gathered from far and near. And what a bevy of pretty -girls and gay young fellows they were! Even the cowboys on this occasion -were faultless Beau Brummels; chaps, belts, and other frontier regalia -were laid aside in favor of the starched shirtfront and dress clothes -of the fashionable East. The entertainment was to consist of dancing and -song, with a sumptuous supper about the midnight hour. - -Roderick of course was there—“by command” of the fair daughter of -the house, Barbara Shields. At the entrance to the reception hall the -twin sisters gave him cordial welcome, and gaily rallied him on having -at last emerged from his anchorite cell. On passing into the crowded -room, young Warfield had one of the greatest surprises of his life. - -“Hello, Roderick, old scout, how are you anyway?” - -Someone had slapped him on the shoulder, and on turning round he found -himself face to face with Whitley Adams. - -“Whitley, old man!” he gasped in sheer astonishment. - -Then followed hand-shaking such as only two old college chums can engage -in after a long separation. - -“How did it all happen?” inquired Roderick, when the first flush of -meeting was over. - -“Tell you later,” said Whitley. “Gee, old man, I ought to beat you -up for not letting me know all this time where you were.” - -“Well, I have been so confoundedly busy,” was the half-apologetic -reply. - -“And so have I myself. I am taking a post-graduate course just now in -being busy. You would never guess what a man of affairs I’ve come to -be.” - -“You certainly surprise me,” laughed Roderick drily. - -“Oh, but I’m going to take your breath away. Since you’ve gone, -I’ve become quite chummy with your Uncle Allen.” - -“You don’t say?” - -“Yes, siree. I think he took to me first of all in the hope that -through me he would get news of the lost prodigal—the son of his -adoption whose absence he is never tired of deploring.” - -“Poor old uncle,” murmured Roderick, affectionately and regretfully. - -“Oh, he takes all the blame to himself for having driven you away from -home. But here—let’s get into this quiet corner, man. You haven’t -yet heard half my news.” - -The two chums were soon installed on a seat conveniently masked—for -other purposes, no doubt—by pot plants and flowers. - -“And how’s dear Aunt Lois?” asked Roderick, as they settled -themselves. - -“Oh, dear Aunt Lois can wait,” replied Whitley. - -“She’s all right—don’t look a day older since I remember her. It -is I who am the topic of importance—I”—and he tapped his chest in -the fervency of his egoism. - -“Well, fire away,” laughed Roderick. - -Whitley rambled on: “Well, I was just going to tell you how your uncle -and I have been pulling along together fine. After stopping me in the -street two or three times to ask me whether I had yet got news of you, -he ended in offering me a position in the bank.” - -“Gee whizz!” - -“Oh, don’t look so demed superior. Why, man alive. I’m a born -banker—a born man of affairs! So at least your uncle tells me in the -intervals of asking after you.” - -“Yes, you’ve certainly taken my breath away. But how come you to be -in Encampment, Whitley?” - -“On business, of course—important business, you bet, or I wouldn’t -have been spared from the office. Oh, I’ll tell you—you’re a -member of the firm, or will be some day, which is all the same thing. -There’s a fellow here, W. B. Grady, wanting a big loan on some smelter -bonds.” - -“I know the man. But I thought he was rolling in money.” - -“Oh, it’s just the fellows who are rolling in money who need ready -money worst,” smiled the embryonic banker with a shrewd twinkle in his -eyes. “He’s a big speculator on the outside, make no mistake, even -though he may be a staid and stolid business man here. Well, he needs -hard cash just at present, and the proposed loan came the way of our -bank. Your uncle jumped at it.” - -“Security must be pretty good,” laughed Roderick. - -“No doubt. But there’s another reason this time for your uncle’s -financial alacrity. Seems an old friend of his was swindled out of the -identical block of bonds offered by this same Grady, and your uncle -sees a possible chance some day of getting them out of his clutches and -restoring them to where they properly belong.” - -“But all that’s contrary to one of Uncle Allen’s most cherished -principles—that friendship and business don’t mix. I’ve heard him -utter that formula a score of times.” - -“Well, cherished principles or no cherished principles, he seems -downright determined this time to let friendship play a hand. He tells -me—oh, I’m quite in his confidence, you see—that it’s a matter -of personal pride for him to try and win back his fortune for this old -friend, General Holden—that’s the name.” - -“Holden?—Holden?” murmured Roderick. He seemed to have heard the -name before, but could not for the moment locate its owner. - -“Yes, General Holden. He’s ranching up here for the present—or -rather his daughter is. They say she’s a stunning girl, and my lawyer -friend Ben Bragdon has promised to introduce me. Oh, though I’m a man -of affairs, old chap, I’ve an eye for a pretty girl too, all the -time. And I’m told she’s a top-notcher in the beauty line, this Gail -Holden.” - -“Gail Holden!” Roderick repeated the name out loud, as he started -erect in his seat. He knew who the father was now—the daughter was no -other than the mysterious rider of the range. - -Whitley’s face wore a quizzical look. - -“Hello! you know her then, old chap?” - -“I never met her—at least I have never been introduced to her.” - -“That’s good hearing. Then we’ll start level tonight. Of course -I’ll cut you out in the long run if she proves to be just my style.” - -“Go ahead,” smiled Roderick. He had already recovered his -self-possession. “But you haven’t informed me yet how you come to -know Ben Bragdon, our cleverest young lawyer here, I’ve been told, and -likely enough to get the Republican nomination for state senator.” - -“Oh, simple enough. I’ve come up to investigate one technical point -in regard to those smelter bonds. Well, Ben Bragdon, your political big -gun, happens to be your uncle’s legal adviser in Wyoming.” - -“Which reminds me,” interposed Roderick earnestly, “that you are -not to give away my whereabout, Whitley—just yet.” - -“A bit rough on the old uncle not to tell him where you are—or at -least let him know that you are safe and well. He loves you dearly, Rod, -my boy.” - -“And I love him—yes, I’ll admit it, I love him dearly, and Aunt -Lois too. But this is a matter of personal pride, Whitley. You spoke a -moment ago of Uncle Allen’s personal pride. Well, I’ve got mine too, -and that day of my last visit to Keokuk, when he told me that not one -dollar of his fortune would ever be mine unless I agreed to certain -abominable conditions he chose to lay down, I on my side resolved that -I would show him I could win a fortune from the world by my own unaided -efforts. And that’s what I’m going to do, Whitley; make no mistake. -I don’t want him to butt in and interfere in any way. I am going to -play this game absolutely alone, and luckily my name gives no clue to -the lawyer Ben Bragdon or anyone else here of my relationship with the -rich banker of Keokuk, Allen Miller.” - -“Of course, Rod, whatever you say goes. But all the same there can be -no harm in my relieving your uncle’s mind by at least telling him that -I’ve heard from you—that you are in good health, and all that sort -of thing. But you bet I won’t let out where you are or what you are -doing. Oh, I’ll go up in the old chap’s estimation by holding on -tight to such a secret. To be absolutely immovable when it would be -a breach of confidence to be otherwise is part of a successful young -banker’s moral make-up, you understand.” - -Roderick laughed, his obduracy broken down by the other’s gay -insistence. - -“All right, old fellow, we’ll let it go at that But as to my being -in Wyoming, remember dead secrecy’s the word. Shake hands on that; my -faith in such a talented and discreet young banker is implicit. But now -we must join the others or they’ll be thinking us rather rude.” - -“That—or the dear girls may be fretting out their hearts on my -account. A rich young banker from Iowa doesn’t blow into Encampment -every day, you know.” And Whitley Adams laughed with all the buoyant -pride of youth, good looks, good health, and good spirits. “Come -along, dear boy,” he went on, linking his hand in Roderick’s arm. -“We’ll find Lawyer Bragdon, get our introductions, and start fair -with the beauteous chatelaine of the cattle range.” - -Roderick had heard about Ben Bragdon from Grant Jones, but had not as -yet happened to meet the brilliant young attorney who was fast becoming -a political factor in the state of Wyoming. So it fell to the chance -visitor to the town, Whitley Adams, to make these two townsmen -acquainted. Bragdon shook Roderick’s hand with all the cordiality and -geniality of a born “mixer” and far-seeing politician. But Whitley -cut out all talk and unblushingly demanded that he and his friend should -be presented without further delay to General Holden’s daughter. - -They found her in company with Barbara Shields who, her duties of -receiving over, was now mingling with her guests. - -“Miss Holden, let me present you to Mr. Roderick Warfield.” The -introducer was Ben Bragdon. - -“One of papa’s favorite boys,” added Barbara kindly, “and one of -our best riders on the range.” - -“As I happen to know,” said Gail Holden; and with a frank smile -of recognition she extended her hand. “We have already met in the -hills.” - -Roderick was blushing. “Yes,” he laughed nervously. “I was stupid -enough to offer to help you with a young steer. But I didn’t know then -I was addressing such a famous horsewoman and expert with the lariat.” - -Gail Holden smiled, pleasedly but composedly. She possessed that -peculiar modesty of dignified reserve which challenges the respect of -men. - -“Oh, you would have no doubt done a great deal better than I did,” -she replied graciously. - -But Whitley Adams had administered a kick to Roderick’s heel, and was -now pushing him aside with a muttered: “You never told me you had this -flying start, you cunning dog. But it’s my turn now.” And he placed -himself before Miss Holden, and was duly presented by Bragdon. - -A moment later Whitley was engaging Gail in a sprightly conversation. -Roderick turned to Barbara, only to find her appropriated by Ben -Bragdon. And Barbara seemed mightily pleased with the young lawyer’s -attentions—she was smiling, and her eyes were sparkling, as she -listened to some anecdote he was telling. Roderick began to feel kind -of lonesome. If there was going to be anyone “shot full of holes” -because of attentions to the fair Miss Barbara, he was evidently not the -man. He had said to Grant Jones that any association of his name with -hers was “rank foolishness,” and humbly felt now the absolute -truthfulness of the remark. He began to look around for Grant—he -felt he was no ladies’ man, that he was out of his element in such a -gathering. There were many strange faces; he knew only a few of those -present. - -But his roving glance again lighted and lingered on Gail Holden. -Yes, she was beautiful, indeed, both in features and in figure. -Tall, willowy, stately, obviously an athlete, with a North of Ireland -suggestion in her dark fluffy hair and sapphire blue eyes and pink-rose -cheeks. He had seen her riding the range, a study in brown serge with a -big sombrero on her head, and he saw her now in the daintiest of evening -costumes, a deep collar of old lace around her fair rounded neck, a few -sprigs of lily of the valley in her corsage, a filigree silver buckle at -the belt that embraced her lissom form. And as he gazed on this beauty -of the hills, this splendid type of womanhood, there came back to him -in memory the wistful little face—yes, by comparison the somewhat -worn and faded face—of the “college widow” to whom his troth was -plighted, for whom he had been fighting and was fighting now the battle -of life, the prize of true love he was going to take back proudly to -Uncle Allen Miller along with the fortune he was to win with his own -brain and hands. - -“By gad, it’s more than three weeks since Stella wrote to me,” he -said to himself, angrily. Somehow he was glad to feel angry—relieved -in mind to find even a meagre pitiful excuse for the disloyal comparison -that had forced itself upon his mind. - -But at this moment the music struck up, there was a general movement, -and he found himself next to Dorothy Shields. Whitley had already sailed -away with Miss Holden. - -“Where is Grant?” asked Roderick. - -“Not yet arrived,” replied Dorothy. “He warned me that he would be -late.” - -“Then perhaps I may have the privilege of the first waltz, as his best -friend.” - -“Or for your own sake,” she laughed, as she placed her hand on his -shoulder. - -Soon they were in the mazy whirl. When the dance was ended Dorothy, -taking his arm, indicated that she wished him to meet some people -in another part of the room. After one or two introductions to young -ladies, she turned to a rather heavy set, affable-looking gentleman and -said: “Mr. Warfield, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Carlisle—Mr. -Carlisle, Mr. Warfield.” - -The men shook hands and looked into each other’s eyes. Roderick -remembered this was the attorney of the smelting plant, and Carlisle -remembered this was the young gentleman of whom the Shields sisters -had so often spoken in complimentary terms. W. Henry Carlisle was a man -perhaps forty years old. He was not only learned in the law, but one -could not talk with him long without knowing he was purposeful and -determined and in any sort of a contest worthy of his foeman’s steel. - -Later Roderick danced with Barbara, and when he had handed her over to -the next claimant on her card was again accosted by Ben Bragdon. He had -liked the young attorney from the first, and together they retired for a -cigarette in the smoking room. - -“I saw you were introduced to that fellow Carlisle,” began Bragdon. - -“Yes,” replied Roderick, smiling, for he already knew of the -professional feud between the two men. - -“Well, let me say something to you,” Bragdon continued. “You look -to me like a man that is worth while, and I take the opportunity of -telling you to let him alone. Carlisle is no good. Outside of law -business and the law courts I would not speak to him if he were the last -man on earth.” - -“Why,” said Roderick, “you are pronounced in your views to say the -least.” - -Bragdon turned to Roderick and for a moment was silent. Then he asked: -“What are you, a Republican or a Democrat?” - -“Why, I am a Republican.” - -“Shake,” said Bragdon, and they clasped hands without Roderick -hardly understanding why. “Let me tell you something else,” Bragdon -went on. “Carlisle claims to be a Republican but I believe he is -a Democrat. He don’t look like a Republican to me. He looks like a -regular secessionist Democrat and there is going to be a contest this -fall for the nomination for state senator. W B. Grady and the whole -smelting outfit are going to back this man Carlisle and I am going to -beat him. And say—old man—” he smiled at Roderick when he said -this and slapped him on the shoulder familiarly—“I want you on my -side.” - -“Well,” said Roderick, half embarrassed and hesitatingly, “I guess -I am getting into politics pretty lively among other things. I don’t -see at this moment why I should not be on your side.” - -“Well, come and see me at my office over at Encampment and we will -talk this matter over.” And so it was agreed. - -Just then they heard singing, so they threw their cigarettes away and -went back to the ballroom. A quartet of voices accompanied on the piano -by Gail Holden were giving a selection from the Bohemian Girl. Whitley -Adams was hovering near Miss Holden, and insisted on turning the music -At the close of the number Whitley requested that Mr. Warfield should -sing. Everyone joined in the invitation; it was a surprise to his -western friends that he was musical. Reluctantly Roderick complied, -and proving himself possessed of a splendid baritone voice, delighted -everyone by singing “Forgotten” and one or two other old-time -melodies. Among many others, Dorothy, Barbara, and Grant Jones, who had -now put in an appearance, overwhelmed him with congratulations. Gail -Holden, too, who had been his accompanist, quietly but none the less -warmly, complimented him. - -Then Gail herself was prevailed upon to sing. As she resumed her seat at -the piano, she glanced at Roderick. - -“Do you know ‘The Rosary’.” she asked in a low voice unheard by -the others. - -“One of my favorites,” he answered. - -“Then will you help me with a second?” she added, as she spread open -the sheet of music. - -“I’ll be honored,” he responded, taking his place by her side. - -Her rich contralto voice swelled forth like the sweeping fullness of a -distant church organ, and Roderick softly and sweetly blended his tones -with hers. Under the player’s magic touch the piano with its deep -resonant chords added to the perfect harmony of the two voices. The -interpretation was wonderful; the listeners were spellbound, and there -followed an interval of tense stillness after the last whispered notes -had died away. - -As Gail rose and stood before him, she looked into Roderick’s eyes. -Her cheeks were flushed, she was enveloped in the mystery of song, -carried away by music’s subtle power. Roderick too was exalted. - -“Superb,” he murmured ecstatically. - -“Thanks to you,” she replied in a low voice and with a little bow. - -Then the buzz of congratulations was all around them. During that brief -moment, even in the crowded ballroom they had been alone—soul had -spoken to soul. But now the tension was relaxed. Gail was laughing -merrily. Whitley Adams was punching Roderick in the ribs. - -“Say, old man, that’s taking another mean advantage.” - -“What do you mean?” asked Roderick, recovering his composure. - -“Singing duets like that isn’t toeing the line. The start was to be -a fair one, but you’re laps ahead already.” Whitley was looking with -comical dolefulness in the direction of Gail Holden. - -“Oh, I catch your drift,” laughed Roderick. “Well, you brought the -trouble on yourself, my boy. It was you who gave me away by declaring I -could sing.” - -“Which shows the folly of paying a false compliment,” retorted -Whitley. “However, I’m going to get another dance anyhow.” - -He made a step toward Gail, but Roderick laid a detaining hand on his -shoulder. - -“Not just yet; the next is mine.” And with audacity that amazed -himself Roderick advanced to Gail, bowed, and offered his arm. The soft -strains of a dreamy waltz had just begun. - -Without a word she accepted his invitation, and together they floated -away among the maze of dancers. - -“Well, that’s going some,” murmured Whitley, as he glanced around -in quest of consolation. Dorothy Shields appeared to be monopolized by -Grant Jones, but the two lawyers, Eragdon and Carlisle, were glowering -at each other, as if in defiance as to which should carry off Barbara. -So Whitley solved the problem by sailing in and appropriating her for -himself. He was happy, she seemed pleased, and the rivals, turning away -from each other, had the cold consolation that neither had profited by -the other’s momentary hesitation. - -After the first few rounds Roderick opened a conversation with his -partner. He felicitated her upon her playing and singing. She thanked -him and said: “Most heartily can I return the compliment.” He bowed -his acknowledgment. - -“You must come to Conchshell ranch and call on my father. He will -be glad to meet you—has been an invalid all the winter, but I’m -thankful he is better now.” - -“I’ll be honored and delighted to make his acquaintance,” replied -Roderick. - -“Then perhaps we can have some more singing together,” she went on. - -“Which will be a great pleasure to me,” he interjected fervently. - -“And to me,” she said, smiling. - -Whether listening or speaking there was something infinitely charming -about Gail Holden. When conversing her beautiful teeth reminded one of a -cupid’s mouth full of pearls. - -“It has been some time,” explained Roderick, “since I was over -your way.” - -For a moment their eyes met and she mischievously replied; - -“Oh, yes. Next time, I’ll not only sing for you, but if you wish I -will teach you how to throw the lariat.” - -“I don’t presume,” replied Roderick banteringly, “you will -guarantee what I might catch even if I turned out to be an expert?” - -“That,” Gail quickly rejoined, “rests entirely with your own -cleverness.” - -Just then it was announced from the dining room that the tables with the -evening collation were spread, and as Roderick was about to offer his -arm to Miss Holden, Barbara came hurriedly up, flushed and saying: -“Oh, Gail, here is Mr. Carlisle who wants to take you to supper. And -Mr. Warfield, you are to escort me.” She smiled triumphantly up into -his face as she took his arm. - -As they walked away together and Barbara was vivaciously talking to him, -he wondered what it all meant Everybody seemed to be playing at cross -purposes. Again he thought of the letter of warning pushed under Grant -Jones’ door and mentally speculated how it would all end. - - - - -CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING - -IT WAS the morning following the big entertainment at the Shields ranch -when Roderick and two other cowboy companions began the work of breaking -some outlaw horses to the saddle. The corral where they were confined -was a quarter of a mile away from the bunk house. - -Grant Jones had remained overnight, ostensibly to pay Roderick a visit -during the succeeding day. He was still sound asleep when Roderick arose -at an early hour and started for the corral. Whitley Adams had also been -detained at the ranch house as a guest. He had invited himself to the -broncho-busting spectacle, and was waiting on the veranda for Roderick -as the latter strolled by. - -An unbroken horse may or may not be an outlaw. If he takes kindly to -the bridle and saddle and, after the first flush of scared excitement -is over with, settles down and becomes bridle-wise then he is not an -outlaw. On the other hand when put to the test if he begins to rear -up—thump down on his forefeet—buck and twist like a corkscrew and -continues jumping sideways and up and down, bucking and rearing until -possibly he falls over backward, endangering the life of his rider and -continues in this ungovernable fashion until finally he is given up -as unbreakable, why, then the horse is an outlaw. He feels that he has -conquered man, and the next attempt to break him to the saddle will be -fraught with still greater viciousness. - -Bull-dogging a wild Texas steer is nothing compared with the skill -necessary to conquer an outlaw pony. - -Nearly all cowboy riders, take to broncho-busting naturally and -good-naturedly, and they usually find an especial delight in assuring -the Easterner that they have never found anything that wears hair they -cannot ride. Of course, this is more or less of a cowboy expression and -possibly borders on vanity. However, as a class, they are not usually -inclined to boast. - -Very excellent progress had been made in the work of breaking the -bronchos to the saddle. It was along about eleven o’clock when -Roderick had just made his last mount upon what seemed to be one of the -most docile ponies in the corral. He was a three-year-old and had -been given the name of Firefly. The wranglers or helpers had no sooner -loosened the blindfold than Roderick realized he was on the hurricane -deck of a pony that would probably give him trouble. When Firefly felt -the weight of Roderick upon his back, apparently he was stunned to such -an extent that he was filled with indecision as to what he should do and -began trembling and settling as if he might go to his knees. Roderick -touched his flank with a sharp spur and then, with all the suddenness -of a flash of lightning from a clear sky, rider and horse became the -agitated center of a whirling cloud of dust. The horse seemingly would -stop just long enough in his corkscrew whirls to jump high in the air -and light on his forefeet with his head nearly on the ground and then -with instantaneous quickness rear almost upright Whitley Adams was -terribly scared at the scene. The struggle lasted perhaps a couple of -minutes, and then Roderick was whirled over the head of the pony and -with a shrill neigh Firefly dashed across the corral and leaping broke -through a six foot fence and galloped away over the open prairie. The -two wranglers and Whitley hastened to Roderick’s side. He had been -stunned but only temporarily and not seriously injured, as it proved. - -“Oh, that’s all right,” he said presently as he rubbed his eyes. - -“Are you hurt?” Whitley inquired. Roderick slowly rose to his feet -with Whitley’s assistance and stretching himself looked about as if a -bit dazed. “No, no,” he replied, “I am not hurt but that infernal -horse has my riding saddle.” - -“You had better learn to ride a rocking horse before trying to ride -an outlaw, Warfield,” said Scotty Meisch, one of the new cowpunchers, -sneeringly. - -Roderick whirled on him. “I’ll take you on for a contest most any -day, if you think you are so good and I am so poor as all that,” he -said. “Come on, what do you say?” - -“Well, I ride in the Frontier Day’s celebration that comes on in -July at our local fair,” the cowboy said. “Guess if you want to ride -in a real contest with me you’d better enter your name and we’ll see -how long you last.” - -“Very well, I’ll just do that for once and show you a little -something about real roughriding,” said Roderick; “and Firefly will -be one of the outlaws.” - -Turning he limped off towards the bunk house with Whitley. - -Whitley was greatly relieved that Roderick, although he had wrenched -the tendons of his leg, had no broken bones. A couple of other cowboys -mounted their ponies, and with lariats started off across the prairie to -capture the outlaw and bring back the saddle. Whitley was assured that -they were breaking horses all the time and now and then the boys got -hold of an outlaw but no one was ever very seriously injured. - -Reaching the lounging room of the bunk house, they learned that Grant -was up and dressed. He had evidently gone up to the ranch house and at -that very moment was doubtless basking in the smiles of Miss Dorothy. - -The college chums, pipes alight, soon got to talking of old times. - -“By the way,” remarked Whitley between puffs, “last month I was -back at the class reunion at Galesburg and called on Stella Rain.” - -Roderick reddened and Whitley went blandly on: “Mighty fine girl—I -mean Stella. Finest college widow ever. I did not know you were the -lucky dog, though?” - -“What do you mean by my being the lucky dog?” - -“Oh, you were always smitten in that quarter—everyone knew that. -And now those tell-tale flushes on your face, together with what Stella -said, makes it all clear. Congratulations, old man,” said Whitley, -laughing good-naturedly at Roderick’s discomfiture. - -As their hands met, Roderick said: “I don’t know, old chap, whether -congratulations are in order or not. She don’t write as often as she -used to. It don’t argue very well for me.” - -“Man alive,” said Whitley, “what do you want with a college widow -or a battalion of college widows when you are among such girls as you -have out here? Great Scott, don’t you realize that these girls are the -greatest ever? Grant Jones shows his good sense; he seems to have roped -Miss Dorothy for sure. At first I thought I had your measure last night, -when you were talking to Miss Barbara Shields—for the moment I had -forgotten about Stella. Then you switched off and cut me out with the -fair singer. Say, if somebody don’t capture Miss Gail Holden—” - -He paused, puffed awhile, then resumed meditatively: “Why, old man, -down in Keokuk Gail Holden wouldn’t last a month. Someone would pick -her up in a jiffy.” - -“Provided,” said Roderick, and looked steadily at Whitley. - -“Oh, yes, of course, provided he could win her.” - -“These western girls, I judge,” said Roderick slowly—“understand -I am not speaking from experience—are pretty hard to win. There is -a freedom in the very atmosphere of the West that thrills a fellow’s -nerves and suggests the widest sort of independence. And our range girls -are pronouncedly independent, unless I have them sized up wrong. Tell -me,” he continued, “how you feel about Miss Holden?” - -“Oh,” replied Whitley, “I knew ahead that she was a stunning girl, -and after that first waltz I felt withered all in a heap. But when I saw -and heard you singing together at the piano, I realized what was bound -to come. Oh, you needn’t blush so furiously. You’ve got to forget a -certain party down at Galesburg. As for me, I’ve got to fly at humbler -game. Guess I’ll have another look around.” - -He laughed somewhat wistfully, as he rose and knocked the ashes from the -bowl of his pipe. - -Roderick had not interrupted; he was becoming accustomed to others -deciding for him his matrimonial affairs. He was musing over the -complications that seemed to be crowding into his life. - -“You see I retire from the contest,” Whitley went on, his smile -broadening, “and I hope you’ll recognize the devoted loyalty of a -friend. But now those Shields girls—one or other of them—both are -equally charming.” - -“You can’t cut Grant Jones out,” interrupted Roderick firmly. -“Remember, next to yourself, he’s my dearest friend.” - -“Oh, well, there’s Miss Barbara left. Now don’t you think I -would be quite irresistible as compared with either of those lawyer -fellows?” He drew himself up admiringly. - -“You might be liable to get your hide shot full of holes,” replied -Roderick. - -“What do you mean?” - -But Roderick did not explain his enigmatic utterance. - -“I think I’ll have a lay-down,” he said, “and rest my stiff -bones.” He got up; he said nothing to Whitley, but the bruised leg -pained him considerably. - -“All right,” replied Whitley gaily. “Then I’ll do a little -further reconnoitering up at the ranch house. So long.” - -Warfield was glad to be alone. Apart from the pain he was suffering, -he wanted to think things over. He was not blind to the truth that -Gail Holden had brought a new interest into his life. Yet he was half -saddened by the thought that almost a month had gone by without a letter -from Stella Rain. Then Whitley’s coming had brought back memories of -Uncle Allen, Aunt Lois, and the old days at Keokuk. He was feeling very -homesick—utterly tired of the rough cow-punching existence he had been -leading for over six months. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE NIGHT - -IN A day or two the excitement over the great evening party at the -Shields ranch had passed and the humdrum duties of everyday life had -been resumed. Whitley Adams had completed his business at Encampment and -taken his departure with the solemnly renewed promise to Roderick that -for the present the latter’s whereabouts would not be disclosed to the -good folks at Keokuk although their anxiety as to his safety and good -health would be relieved. Grant Jones had torn himself away from -his beloved to resume his eternal—and as he felt at the moment -infernal—task of getting out the next issue of his weekly newspaper. -Gail Holden had ridden off over the foothills, the Shields sisters had -returned to their domestic duties, and all the other beauties of the -ballroom had scattered far and wide like thistledown in a breeze. The -cowboys had reverted to chaps and sombreros, dress clothes had been -stowed away with moth balls to keep them company, and the language of -superlative politeness had lapsed back into the terser vernacular of the -stock corral. Roderick was pretty well alone all day in the bunk -house, nursing the stiff leg that had resulted from the broncho-busting -episode. - -Between embrocations he was doing a little figuring and stock-taking of -ways and means. During his six months on the ranch most of his salary -had been saved. The accumulated amount would enable him to clear off -one-half of his remaining indebtedness in New York and leave him a -matter of a hundred dollars for some prospecting on his own account -during the summer months among the hills. But he would stay by his -job for yet another month or two, because, although the words had been -spoken in the heat of the moment, he had pledged himself to meet the -cowboy Scotty Meisch in the riding contest at the Frontier Day’s -celebration. Yes, he would stick to that promise, he mused as he rubbed -in the liniment Gail Holden, when she had come to bid him good-by -and express her condolence over his accident, had announced her own -intention of entering for the lariat throwing competition, but he would -never have admitted to himself that the chance of meeting her again -in such circumstances, the chance of restoring his prestige as a -broncho-buster before her very eyes, had the slightest thing to do with -his resolve to delay his start in systematic quest of the lost mine. - -Meanwhile Buell Hampton seemed to have withdrawn himself from the world. -During the two weeks that had intervened between the invitation and the -dance, he had not called at the ranch. Nor did he come now during the -weeks that followed, and one evening when Grant Jones paid a visit to -the Major’s home he found the door locked. Grant surveyed with both -surprise and curiosity the addition that had been made to the building. -It was a solid structure of logs, showing neither door nor window to the -outside, and evidently was only reached through the big living room. - -He reported the matter to Roderick, but the latter, his stiff leg now -all right again, was too busy among the cattle on the ranges to bother -about other things. - -But Buell Hampton all this time had been very active indeed. During the -winter months he had thought out his plans. Somehow he had come to look -upon the hidden valley with its storehouse of golden wealth as a sacred -place not to be trespassed on by the common human drove. Just so soon as -the melting snows rendered the journey practicable, he had returned all -alone to the sequestered nook nested in the mountains. He had discovered -that quite a little herd of deer had found shelter and subsistence there -during the months of winter. As he came among them, they had shown, -themselves quite tame and fearless; three or four does had nibbled the -fresh spring grass almost at his very feet as he had sat on the porphyry -dyke, enjoying the beautiful scene, alone in his little kingdom, with -only these gentle creatures and the twittering birds for companions. - -And there and then Buell Hampton had resolved that he would not -desecrate this sanctuary of nature—that he would not bring in the -brutal eager throng of gold seekers, changing the lovely little valley -into a scene of sordid greed and ugliness, its wild flowers crushed -underfoot, its pellucid stream turned to sludge, its rightful -inhabitants, the gentle-eyed deer, butchered for riotous gluttony. -No, never! He would take the rich God-given gift of gold that was his, -gratefully and for the ulterior purpose of spreading human happiness. -But all else he would leave undisturbed. - -The gold-bearing porphyry dyke stretching across the narrow valley was -decomposed; it required no drilling nor blasting; its bulk could easily -be broken by aid of sledge hammer and crowbar. Two or three men working -steadily for two or three months could remove the entire dyke as it lay -visible between mountain rock wall and mountain rock wall, and taking -the assay value of the ore as already ascertained, from this operation -alone there was wealth for all interested beyond the dreams of avarice. -Buell Hampton debated the issues all through that afternoon of solitude -spent in the little canyon. And when he regained his home he had arrived -at a fixed resolution. He would win the treasure but he would save the -valley—he would keep it a hidden valley still. - -Next evening he had Tom Sun, Boney Earnest and Jim Rankin all assembled -in secret conclave. While the aid of Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield -would be called in later on, for the present their services would not be -required. So for the present likewise there would be nothing more said -to them—the fewer in the “know” the safer for all concerned. - -It was agreed that Tom Sun, Jim Rankin and the Major would bring out -the ore. Jim was to hire a substitute to drive his stage, while Tom Sun -would temporarily hand over the care of his flocks to his manager and -herders. Boney Earnest could not leave his work at the smelter—his -duties there were so responsible that any sudden withdrawal might have -stopped operations entirely and so caused the publicity all were anxious -to avoid. But as he did not go to the plant on Sundays, his active help -would be available each Saturday night. Thus the plans were laid. - -But although Buell Hampton had allied himself with these helpers in his -work and participants in the spoil, he yet guarded from them the -exact locality of his find. All this was strictly in accordance with -goldmining usage among the mountains of Wyoming, so the Major offered no -apology for his precautions, his associates asked for or expected none. -Each man agreed that he would go blindfolded to the spot where the rich -ore was to be broken and packed for removal. - -Thus had it come about that, while Buell Hampton seemed to have -disappeared from the world, all the while he was very busy indeed, -and great things were in progress. Actual work had commenced some days -before the dance at the Shields’ home, and it continued steadily in -the following routine. - -The Major, Tom Sun and Jim Rankin passed most of the day sleeping. At -night after dark, they would sally forth into the hills, mounted on -three horses with three pack burros. A few miles away from Encampment -the Major would blindfold his two assistants, and then they would -proceed in silence. When they arrived near Spirit Falls the horses and -burros would be tethered and Major Hampton would lead the way down the -embankment to the river’s bank, then turn to the left, while Tom Sun, -blindfolded, extended one hand on Buell Hampton’s shoulder and still -behind was Jim Rankin with his hand extended on Tom Sun’s shoulder. -Thus they would make their way to a point back of the waterfall, and -then some considerable distance into the mountain cavern where the -blindfolds were removed. With an electric torch the Major lighted the -way through the grotto into the open valley. - -A little farther on was the dyke of porphyry, quartz and gold. Here the -sacks would be filled with the rich ore—their loads all that each man -could carry. Footsteps were then retraced with the same precautions as -before. - -Placing the ore sacks on the backs of their burros, the night riders -would climb into their saddles and slowly start out on the return -journey, the Major driving the burros ahead along a mountain path, while -Tom Sun and Jim Rankin’s horses followed. After they had gone on for a -few miles Major Hampton would shout back to his assistants to remove the -blindfolds, and thus they would return to the town of Encampment in -the gray dawn of morning, unloading their burros at the door of Major -Hampton’s house. Jim Rankin would take charge of the stock and put -them in a stable and corral he had prepared down near the banks of the -Platte River just over the hill. Tom Sun would show his early training -by preparing a breakfast of ham and eggs and steaming coffee while the -Major was placing the ore in one hundred pound sacks and carrying them -back into the blockade addition he had built to his home. He would then -lock the heavy door connecting the storehouse with the living room. - -Usually the breakfast was ready by the time the Major had finished his -part of the work and Jim Rankin had returned. After the morning meal and -a smoke, these three mysterious workers of the night would lie down -to sleep, only to repeat the trip the following evening. Each Saturday -night, as has been explained, Boney Earnest was added to the party, as -well as an extra horse and burro. - -Buell Hampton estimated that each burro was bringing out one hundred -pounds nightly, or about three hundred pounds every trip for the three -burros, with an extra hundred pounds on Saturday night. If this ore -yielded $114.00 per pound, the assay value already paid him, or call it -$100.00, it meant that he was adding to his storehouse of treasure -about $220,000.00 as the result of each week’s labors. Thus in three -months’ time there would be not far short of $3,000,-000.00 worth of -high grade gold ores accumulated. If reduced to tons this would make -nearly a full carload when the time came for moving the vast wealth to -the railroad. - -One night in the midst of these operations, when Jim Rankin and Tom Sun -supposed they were on the point of starting on the usual trip into the -hidden valley, Buell Hampton filled his pipe for an extra smoke and -invited his two faithful friends to do likewise. “We are not going -tonight,” said he. “We will have a rest and hold a conference.” - -“Good,” said Jim Rankin. “Speakin’ wide open like, by gunnies, -my old bones are gettin’ to be pretty dangnation sore.” - -“Too bad about you,” said Tom Sun. “Too bad that you aren’t as -young as I am, Jim.” - -“Young, the devil,” returned Jim. “I’m prognosticatin’ I have -pints about me that’d loco you any time good and plenty. ‘Sides you -know you are seven years older than me. Gosh ‘lmighty, Tom, you an’ -me have been together ever since we struck this here country mor’n -forty years ago.” - -Tom laughed and the Major laughed. - -It was arranged that when the carload was ready Jim Rankin was to rig -up three four-horse teams and Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would be -called on to accompany the whole outfit to Walcott, the nearest town -on the Union Pacific, where a car would be engaged in advance for the -shipment of the ore to one of the big smelters at Denver. The strictest -secrecy would be kept even then, for reasons of safety as well as to -preserve the privacy desired by Buell Hampton. So they would load up the -wagons at night and start for the railroad about three o’clock in the -morning. - -Thus as they smoked and yawned during their night of rest the three men -discussed and decided every detail of these future plans. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE - -FOR a time Roderick had hung back from accepting the invitation to call -at the Conchshell ranch, as the Holden place was called. In pursuing -the acquaintanceship with Gail he knew that he was playing with fire—a -delightful game but one that might work sad havoc with his future peace -of mind. However, one day when he had an afternoon off and had ridden -into Encampment again to be disappointed in finding no letter from -Stella, he had felt just the necessary touch of irritation toward his -fiancée that spurred him on to seek some diversion from his thoughts of -being badly treated and neglected. Certainly, he would call on General -Holden—he did not say to himself that he was bent on seeing Gail -again, looking into her beautiful eyes, hearing her sing, perhaps -joining in a song. - -He was mounted on his favorite riding horse Badger, a fine bay pony, and -had followed the road up the North Fork of the Encampment River a number -of miles. Taking a turn to the left through the timbered country with -rocky crags towering on either side in loftiest grandeur, he soon -reached the beautiful plateau where Gail Holden’s home was located. -The little ranch contained some three hundred acres, and cupped inward -like a saucer, with a mountain stream traversing from the southerly to -the northerly edge, where the Conchshell canyon gashed through the rim -of the plateau and permitted the waters to escape and flow onward and -away into the North Fork. - -As Roderick approached the house, which was on a knoll planted with -splendid firs and pines, he heard Gail singing “Robert Adair.” He -dismounted and hitched his horse under the shelter of a wide spreading -oak. Just as he came up the steps to the broad porch Gail happened to -see him through one of the windows. She ceased her singing and hastened -to meet him with friendly greeting. - -“Welcome, Mr. Warfield, thrice welcome, as Papa sometimes says,” -said Gail, smiling. - -“Thank you,” said Roderick, gallantly. “I was riding in this -direction and concluded to stop in and accept your kind invitation to -meet the General.” - -“He will be delighted to see you, Mr. Warfield, I have told him about -your singing.” - -“Oh, that was making too much of my poor efforts.” - -“Not at all. You see my father is very fond of music—never played -nor sang in his life, but has always taken keen delight in hearing good -music. And I tell you he is quite a judge.” - -“Which makes me quite determined then not to sing in his presence,” -laughed Roderick. - -“Well, you can’t get out of it now you’re here. He won’t allow -it. Nor will I. You won’t refuse to sing for me, will you? Or with -me?” she added with a winning smile. - -“That would be hard indeed to refuse,” he replied, happy yet -half-reproaching himself for his very happiness. - -“Daddie is walking around the grounds somewhere at present,” -continued Gail. “Won’t you step inside and rest, Mr. Warfield? -He’ll turn up presently.” - -“Oh, this old rustic seat here on the porch looks exceedingly -comfortable. And I fancy that is your accustomed rocker,” he added, -pointing to a piece of embroidery, with silk and needles, slung over the -arm of a chair. - -“You are a regular Sherlock Holmes,” she laughed. “Well, I have -been stitching all the afternoon, and just broke off my work for a -song.” - -“I heard you. Can’t you be persuaded to continue?” - -“Not at present. We’ll wait till Papa comes. And the weather is so -delightfully warm that I will take my accustomed rocker—and the hint -implied as well.” - -Again she laughed gaily as she dropped into the commodious chair and -picked up the little square of linen with its half-completed embroidery. - -Roderick took the rustic seat and gazed admiringly over the cup-shaped -lands that spread out before him like a scroll, with their background of -lofty mountains. - -“You have a delightful view from here,” he said. - -“Yes,” replied Gail, as she threaded one of her needles with a -strand of crimson. “I know of no other half so beautiful. And it has -come to be a very haven of peace and happiness. Perhaps you know that -my father last year lost everything he possessed in the world through an -unfortunate speculation. But that was nothing—we lost my dear mother -then as well. This little ranch of Conchshell was the one thing left -that we could call our own, and here we found our refuge and our -consolation.” - -She was speaking very softly, her hands had dropped on her lap, there -was the glisten of tears in her eyes. Roderick was seeing the daring -rider of the hills, the acknowledged belle of the ballroom in yet -another light, and was lost in admiration. - -“Very sad,” he murmured, in conventional commiseration. - -“Oh, no, not sad,” she replied brightly, looking up, sunshine -showing through her tears. “Dear mother is at rest after her long -illness, father has recovered his health in this glorious mountain air, -and I have gained a serious occupation in life. Oh, I just love this -miniature cattle range,” she went on enthusiastically. “Look at -it”—she swept the landscape with an upraised hand. “Don’t all -my sweet Jerseys and Hainaults dotted over those meadows look like the -little animals in a Noah’s ark we used to play with when children?” - -“They do indeed,” concurred Roderick, with heartily responsive -enthusiasm. - -“And I’m going to make this dairy stock business pay to beat the -band,” she added, her face fairly aglow. “Just give me another year -or two.” - -“You certainly deserve success,” affirmed Roderick, emphatically. - -“Oh, I don’t know. But I do try so hard.” - -Her beautiful face had sweet wistfulness in it now. Roderick was -admiring its swift expressive changes—he was saying to himself that he -could read the soul of this splendidly frank young woman like a book. He -felt thrilled and exalted. - -“But here comes Papa,” exclaimed Gail, springing delightedly to her -feet - -Roderick’s spirits dropped like a plummet. At such an interesting -psychological moment he could have wished the old General far enough. - -But there was a pleasant smile on his face as Gail presented him, -genuine admiration in the responsive pressure of his hand as he gazed -into the veteran’s handsome countenance and thanked him for his -cordial welcome. - -“Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” General Holden was saying. “My -friend Shields has spoken mighty well of you, and Gail here says you -have the finest baritone voice in all Wyoming.” - -“Oh, Daddie!” cried Gail, in blushing confusion. - -“Well, I’m going to decide for myself. Come right in. We’ll have -a song while Gail makes us a cup of tea. An old soldier’s song for a -start—she won’t be listening, so I can suit myself this time.” - -And Roderick to his bewilderment found himself clutched by the arm, and -being led indoors to the piano like a lamb to the slaughter. Gail -had disappeared, and he was actually warbling “Marching through -Georgia,” aided by a thunderous chorus from the General. - -“As we go marching through Georgia,” echoed Gail, when at the close -of the song she advanced from the domestic quarters with sprightly -military step, carrying high aloft a tea tray laden with dainty china -and gleaming silverware. - -All laughed heartily, and a delightful afternoon was initiated—tea and -cake, solos and duets, intervals of pleasant conversation, a Schubert -sonata by Gail, and a rendition by Roderick of the Soldiers’ Chorus -from Faust that fairly won the old General’s heart. - -The hours had sped like a dream, and it was in the sunset glow that -Roderick, having declined a pressing invitation to stay for dinner, -was bidding Gail good-by. She had stepped down from the veranda and was -standing by his horse admiring it and patting its silky coat. - -“By the way, you mentioned at the Shields’ party that you expected -to go trout fishing, Mr. Warfield. Did you have good luck?” - -Roderick confessed that as yet he had not treated himself to a day’s -sport with the finny tribe. “I was thinking about it this very -morning,” he went on, “and was wondering if I had not better secure -a companion—someone skilled with rod and reel and fly to go with me, -as I am a novice.” - -“Oh, I’ll go with you,” she exclaimed quickly. “Would be glad to -do so.” - -“That’s mighty kind of you, Miss Holden,” replied Roderick, half -hesitatingly, while a smile played about his handsome face. “But since -you put it that way I would be less than courteous if I did not eagerly -and enthusiastically accept. When shall we go?” - -“You name the day,” said Gail. - -Roderick leaned hastily forward and placing one hand on his heart said -with finely assumed gallantry: “I name the day?” - -“Oh, you know quite well I do not mean that.” - -She laughed gaily, but all the same a little blush had stolen into her -cheeks. - -“I thought it was the fair lady’s privilege to name the day,” said -Roderick, mischievously. - -“Very well,” said Gail, soberly, “we will go trout fishing -tomorrow.” - -“It is settled,” said Roderick. “What hour is your pleasure?” - -“Well, it is better,” replied Gail, “to go early in the morning or -late in the evening. Personally I prefer the morning.” - -“Very well, I will be here and saddle Fleetfoot for you, say, at seven -tomorrow morning.” - -And so it was agreed. - -It was only when he was cantering along the roadway toward home that -Roderick remembered how Barbara Shields had on several occasions invited -him to go trout fishing with her, but in some way circumstances had -always intervened to postpone the expedition. In Gail’s case, however, -every obstacle seemed to have been swept aside—he had never even -thought of asking Mr. Shields for the morning off. However, that would -be easily arranged, so he rode on in blissful contentment and happy -anticipation for the morrow. - -The next morning at the appointed time found him at Conchshell ranch. -Before he reached the house he discovered Fleetfoot saddled and bridled -standing at the gate. - -Gail came down the walk as he approached and a cheery good-morning was -followed by their at once mounting their horses and following a roadway -that led eastward to the South Fork of the Encampment River. - -“You brought your flies, Mr. Warfield?” - -“Oh, yes,” replied Roderick. “I have plenty of flies—both hackle -and coachman. These have been specially recommended to me, but as I -warned you last night I am a novice and don’t know much about them.” - -“I sometimes use the coachman,” said Gail, “although, like -yourself, I am not very well up on the entomology of fly fishing.” - -Soon the road led them away from the open valley into a heavy timber -that crowned the westerly slope of the river. They soon arrived at -their destination. Dismounting they quickly tethered their horses. -Gail unfastened her hip boots from back of her saddle, and soon her -bifurcated bloomer skirts were tucked away in the great rubber boots and -duly strapped about her slender waist. Roderick was similarly equipped -with wading boots, and after rods, lines and flies had been carefully -adjusted they turned to the river. The mountains with their lofty rocky -ledges—the swift running waters rippling and gurgling over the rocky -bed of the river—the beautiful forests that rose up on either side, of -pine and spruce and cottonwood, the occasional whistle and whirr of wild -birds—the balmy morning air filled life to overflowing for these two -disciples of Izaak Walton bent upon filling their baskets with brook and -rainbow trout. - -“The stream is sufficiently wide,” observed Gail, “so we can go -downstream together. You go well toward the west bank and I will hug the -east bank.” Roderick laughed. - -“What are you laughing at?” asked Gail. - -“Oh, I was just sorry I am not the east bank.” The exhilarating -mountain air had given him unwonted audacity. - -“You are a foolish fellow,” said Gail—“at least sometimes. -Usually I think you are awfully nice.” - -“Do you think we had better fish,” asked Roderick, whimsically, -“or talk this matter over?” - -Gail looked very demure and very determined. - -“You go right on with your fishing and do as I do, Mr. Roderick -Warfield. Remember, I’m the teacher.” She stamped her little booted -foot, and then waded into the water and cast her fly far down stream. -“See how I cast my line.” - -“You know a whole lot about fishing, don’t you?” asked Roderick. - -“Oh, yes, I ought to. During occasional summer visits to the ranch I -have fished in these waters ever so many times. You must not talk -too much,” she added in a lower voice. “Trout are very alert, you -know.” - - -“If fish could hear as well as see - -Never a fish would there be— - - -in our baskets.” And she laughed softly at this admonition for -Roderick to fish and cease badinage. - -“Which way is the wind?” asked Roderick. - -“There is none,” replied Gail. - - -“When the wind is from the North - -The skilful fisherman goes not forth,” - - -quoted Roderick. “Don’t that prove I know something about -fishing—I mean fly fishing?” - -“You have a much better way to prove your sport-manship,” insisted -Gail. “The fish are all around you and your basket is hanging empty -from your shoulder.” - -“Rebuked and chided,” exclaimed Roderick, softly. - -They continued to cast and finally Gail said: “I have a Marlow Buzz on -my hook.” - -“What is that?” inquired Roderick. - -“Oh, it is a species of the Brown Palmer fly. I like them better than -the hackle although the coachman may be equally as good. Look out!” -she suddenly exclaimed. - -Roderick turned round quickly and saw her line was taut, cutting the -water sharply to the right and to the left while her rod was bent like a -bow. She quickly loosened her reel which hummed like a song of happiness -while her line sliced the waters like a knife. - -“Guess you have a rainbow,” cried Roderick excitedly, but Gail paid -no attention to his remark. - -Presently the trout leaped from the water and fell back again, then -attempted to dart away; but the slack of line was not sufficient for the -captive to break from the hook. - -The trout finally ceased its fight, and a moment later was lifted safely -from the water and landed in Gail’s net. But even now it continued -to prove itself a veritable circus performer, giving an exhibition of -flopping, somersaulting, reversed handsprings—if a fish could do such -things—with astonishing rapidity. - -“Bravo,” shouted Roderick, as Gail finally released the hook and -deposited the fish in her basket. - -Less than a minute later Roderick with all the enthusiasm and zeal -imaginable was letting out his reel and holding his line taut, for he, -too, had been rewarded. And soon he had proudly deposited his first -catch of the day in his fish basket. - -On they went down the river, over riffles and into deep pools where -the water came well up above their knees; but, nothing daunted, these -fishermen kept going until the sun was well up in the eastern sky. At -last Gail halloed and said: “Say, Mr. Warfield, my basket is almost -full and I am getting hungry.” - -“All right,” said Roderick, “we will retrace our steps. There is a -pretty good path along the east bank.” - -“How many have you?” asked Gail. - -“Twenty-six,” replied Roderick as he scrambled up the bank. - -“I have thirty-one,” said Gail, enthusiastically. - -Roderick approached the bank, and reaching down helped her to a footing -on the well-beaten path. Then they started up-stream for their horses. - -It was almost eleven o’clock when they arrived at their point of -departure and had removed their wading boots. Gail went to her saddle -and unlashed a little luncheon basket. - -She utilized a large tree stump for a table, and after it had been -covered with a napkin and the dainty luncheon of boned chicken, sardines -and crackers had been set forth, she called to Roderick and asked him to -fill a pair of silver collapsible drinking cups which she handed to him. -He went to the brook and returned with the ice-cold mountain vintage. - -“I am just hungry enough,” said Gail, “to enjoy this luncheon -although it is not a very sumptuous repast.” - -Roderick smiled as he took a seat upon the felled tree. - -“Expect you think you will inveigle me into agreeing with you. But not -on your life. I would enjoy such a luncheon as this any time, even if I -were not hungry. But in the present circumstances—well, I will let you -pass judgment upon my appetite after we have eaten.” - -“As they say on the long army marches in the books,” said Gail, -gaily, “I guess we had better fall to.” And forthwith with much -merriment and satisfaction over their morning’s catch they proceeded -to dispose of the comestibles. - -It was only a little after noon when they reached the Conchshell ranch, -and soon thereafter Roderick’s pony was galloping along the road on -his homeward way. He had never enjoyed such a morning in all his life. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE FRONTIER - -THERE was great excitement among the bunch of cowboys on the Shields’ -ranch when the local newspapers came out with startling headlines and -full announcements in regard to the annual frontier celebration. That -night every line of the full page advertisements, also the columns of -editorial elaborations on the contests and other events, were read aloud -to an eager assemblage of all hands in front of the bunk house. - -The Dillon Doublejack predicted that this year’s celebration would -undoubtedly afford the greatest Wild West show ever witnessed outside -of a regular circus display organized as a money-making undertaking. -Everything was going to be just the real thing—the miners’ drilling -contest, the roping competition, the bucking-broncho features, and so -on. More than a score of outlaw horses that had thrown every cow-puncher -who ever attempted to ride them had already been engaged. The Doublejack -further declared that the tournament would be both for glory and for -bags of yellow gold, with World’s Championships to the best rider, to -the best bucking broncho buster, to the best trick roper, to the -fastest cowpony, and to the most daring and lucky participant in the -bull-dogging of wild steers. - -In the columns of the Encampment Herald special attention was drawn to -the fact that in the rough riding and outlaw bucking contest for the -world’s championship there was a purse of $1,000 to be divided—$450 -for first prize, $300 second prize, $150 third prize and $100 fourth -prize, while in addition Buck Henry, the banker, offered a $200 -championship saddle to the rider who took first place. It was also -announced that the fair association would pay $50 in cash for every -horse brought to the grounds that was sufficiently unmanageable to throw -every rider; each participant to ride any horse and as often as the -judges might deem necessary to determine the winner; chaps and spurs to -be worn by the riders, and leather pulling would disqualify. - -Both papers referred to the band concerts as a feature of great interest -throughout the three days of the fair. Everything was to be decorated -in colors—red and green, black and yellow, blue and white, pink and -scarlet—from the grandstand down to the peanut boy. The race track was -fast and in excellent condition, and everything would be in readiness at -the appointed time. - -After each item of news was read out there was a buzz of comment among -the assembled cowboys, challenges were made, bets freely offered and -accepted. As the gathering dispersed Roderick Warfield and Scotty Meisch -exchanged significant glances but spoke no word—they had been as -strangers to each other ever since their fierce quarrel on the morning -of the broncho-busting exercises. Roderick was glad that the day was -near at hand when the fellow would be made to eat his words. And with -the thought also came thoughts of Gail Holden. Gee, but it would be fine -to see her ride in such a contest of nerve and skill! - -At last the eventful morning dawned and the people swarmed into -Encampment from all the surrounding country. They came from far below -Saratoga to the north. The entire Platte Valley from as far south as the -Colorado state line and beyond were on hand. In fact, from all over -the state and even beyond its confines the whole population moved in to -participate in this great frontier day celebration. A crowd came over -from Steamboat Springs and brought with them the famous outlaw horse -Steamboat, who had never been ridden although he had thrown at least a -dozen cowpunchers of highest renown. - -When the programmes were distributed, Firefly was found upon the list of -outlaw horses, and also to the surprise of many of his friends the name -of Roderick Warfield appeared as one of the contestants in both the -bull-dogging and bucking broncho events. - -It was a veritable Mecca of delight for the miners in their drilling -contests and for the cowboys in their dare-devil riding of outlaw -horses—testing their prowess and skill in conquering the seemingly -unconquerable. The lassoing of fleet-footed and angry cattle, the -bull-dogging of wild steers gathered up from different parts of the -country because of their reputation for long horns and viciousness, were -spectacles to challenge the admiration of the immense throng seated in -the grandstand and on the bleachers. - -It was just ten o’clock on the morning of the first day when the -judges sounded the gong and started the series of contests. The first -event was a cow-pony race, with no restriction as to the sex of the -riders. Ponies were to be fourteen hands two inches or under. There -were seven starters. Up in one corner of the grandstand sat Grant -Jones surrounded by a bevy of beautiful girls. Among them of course was -Dorothy Shields. All were in a flutter of excitement over the race that -was about to be run; for Gail Holden was among the contestants. - -Gail Holden, quiet, unassuming, yet full of determination, looked -a veritable queen as she sat her pony Fleetfoot clad in soft silk -shirtwaist, gray divided skirt, and gray soft felt hat. With a tremor of -delight Roderick noticed that she wore on her sleeve as her colors one -of his college arm-bands, which he had given her when calling at the -Conchshell ranch one evening after the trout fishing expedition. - -At last the bell sounded and the word “Go” was given. A shout went -up from the grandstand—“They’re off—they’re off.” And away -the seven horses dashed—-four men and three lady riders. At the moment -of starting Gail had flung her hat to the winds. She used no quirt but -held her pony free to the right and in the open. It was a half-mile -track and the race was for one mile. When they swept down past the -grandstand on the first lap Fleetfoot had gained third place. A -pandemonium of shouts went up as the friends of each madly yelled to -the riders to urge their mounts to greater speed. At the far turn it -was noticed that Fleetfoot was running almost neck and neck with the two -leaders, and then as they came up the stretch, running low, it seemed as -if the race would finish in a dead heat between all three ponies. - -Just then Gail reached down and was seen to pat her pony upon the neck -and evidently was talking to him. Fleetfoot leaned forward as if fired -with fierce determination to comply with her request for still greater -effort His muscles seemed to be retensioned. He began creeping away inch -by inch from his adversaries, and amid the plaudits and shouts of the -people in the grandstand and bleachers, who rose to their feet waving -handkerchiefs and hats in a frenzy of tumultuous approval, Gail’s -horse passed first under the wire—winner by a short head, was the -judges’ verdict. - -The second feature was a great drilling contest of the miners from the -surrounding hills. There were twelve pairs of contestants, and Grant -Jones became wild with excitement when friends of his from Dillon were -awarded the championship. - -And thus event followed event until the day’s program was completed. - -Gail and Roderick were bidding each other goodnight at the gateway of -the enclosure. - -“I owe you my very special thanks,” he said as he held her hand. - -“What for?” she enquired. - -“For wearing my old college arm-band in the pony race.” - -“Oh,” said Gail, blushing slightly, “I had to have something to -keep my sleeve from coming down too far on my wrist Besides they are -pretty colors, aren’t they?” - -But Roderick was not going to be sidetracked by any such naive -questioning. - -“I refuse pointblank,” he answered, smiling, “to accept any excuse -for your wearing the badge. I insist it was a compliment to me and shall -interpret it in no other way.” - -Her blush deepened, but she made no further protest. General Holden had -approached. She turned and took his arm. - -“Until tomorrow then,” exclaimed Roderick, raising his hat to both -father and daughter. - -“Until tomorrow,” she quietly responded. - -The morrow brought resumption of the tournament. Gail Holden was to -display her prowess in throwing the lariat, while Roderick had entered -his name in the bull-dogging event. - -In the roping contest Gail was the only lady contestant. The steers -were given a hundred feet of start, and then the ropers, swinging their -lariats, started after them in a mad gallop. - -Gail was again mounted on Fleet foot, and if anything ever looked like -attempting an impossibility it was for this slender girl with her neatly -gloved little hands, holding a lariat in the right and the reins of the -pony in her left, to endeavor to conquer and hogtie a three-year-old -steer on the run. And yet, undismayed she undertook to accomplish -this very thing. When the word was given she dashed after the fleeing -three-year-old, and then as if by magic the lariat sprang away from -her in a graceful curve and fell cleverly over the horns of the steer. -Immediately Fleetfoot set himself for the shock he well knew was coming. - -The steer’s momentum was so suddenly arrested that it was thrown to -the ground. Gail sprang from the saddle, and the trained pony as he -backed away kept the lariat taut. Thus was the steer hogtied by Gail’s -slender hands in 55 3/5 seconds from the time the word was given. - -All of the lassoers had been more or less successful, but the crowd -stood up and yelled in wildest enthusiasm, and waved their hats and -handkerchiefs, as the time for this marvelous feat by Gail was announced -from the judges’ stand. - -In the afternoon the bull-dogging contest was reached, and Grant -Jones said to those about him: “Now get ready for some thrills and -breathless moments.” - -When the word was given a wild long-horned steer came rushing down past -the grandstand closely followed by a cowboy on his fleet and nimble -pony. In the corral were perhaps a score of steers and there was -a cowboy rider ready for each of them. Four or five steers were -bull-dogged one after the other. Some had been quickly thrown to the -ground by the athletic cowboys amid the plaudits of the onlookers. But -one had proven too strong for the skill and quickness of his adversary, -and after rather severely injuring the intrepid youthful gladiator -rushed madly on down the race track. - -Presently Roderick Warfield came into view astride his favorite pony, -Badger, riding at full tilt down the race course, chasing a huge -cream-colored steer with wide-spread horns, cruelly sharp and -dangerous-looking. As horse and steer came abreast Roderick’s athletic -form swayed in his saddle for a moment, and then like a flash he was -seen to leap on to the steer’s back and reaching forward grab the -animal’s horns. An instant later he had swung his muscular body to -the ground in front of his sharp homed adversary and brought him to an -abrupt halt. - -Gail Holden’s face grew pale as she watched the scene from among a -group of her girl friends on the grandstand. - -The object of the bull-dogging contest is to twist the neck of the steer -and throw him to the ground. But Roderick accomplished more. The steer -lifted him once from the ground, and the great throng of people on -the grandstand and bleachers, also the hundreds who had been unable to -obtain seating accommodation and were standing along the rails, held -their breath in bated silence. The powerful cream-colored steer threw -his head up, and lifting Roderick’s feet from their anchorage started -on a mad run. But when he lowered his head a moment later Roderick’s -feet caught the earth again, and the steer was brought to a standstill. -Then the milling back and forth began. Roderick’s toes sank deep into -the sand that covered the race track; the muscles of his neck stood out -in knots. Finally, with one heroic twist on the long horns as a pry over -a fulcrum, he accomplished the feat of combined strength and endurance, -and the intense silence of the great throng was broken by a report -like the shot of a pistol as the bull-dogged steer fell heavily to the -earth—dead. The animal’s neck was broken. - -There are very few cases on record where a steer’s neck has been -broken in bull-dogging contests. Roderick therefore had gained a rare -distinction. But technically he had done too much, for the judges were -compelled to withhold from him the honors of the championship because in -killing the animal he had violated the humane laws of the state, which -they were pledged to observe throughout the series of contests. But this -did not affect the tumult of applause that acclaimed his victory over -the huge and vicious-looking steer. Afterwards when his friends gathered -around him in wonderment at his having entered for such an event he -confessed that for several weeks he had been practicing bull-dogging out -on the range, preparing for this contest. - -In the afternoon of the last day, the finals of the bucking-broncho -competition were announced from the grandstand. There were only three -contestants remaining out of the score or more of original entries, and -Roderick Warfield was among the number. Scotty Meisch was there—the -cowboy whom Roderick had challenged—also Bud Bledsoe, the bodyguard -and sleuth of W. B. Grady. Three of the unconquered outlaws were brought -out—each attended by two wranglers; the names of the horses were put -in a hat and each cowboy drew for his mount. Roderick Warfield drew Gin -Fizz, Bud Bledsoe drew Steamboat and Scotty Meisch drew Firefly. And in -a few moments the wranglers were busy. - -Three horses and six wranglers working on them at the same time! It was -a sight that stirred the blood with expectation. These horses had been -successful in throwing the riders who had previously attempted to subdue -them. The outlaws were recognized by the throng even before their names -were called from the grandstand. - -The method of the game is this: One wrangler approaches the horse while -the other holds taut the lariat that has been thrown over his neck; and -if the freehanded wrangler is quick enough or lucky enough he seizes the -horse by the ears and throws his whole weight on the animal’s head, -which is then promptly decorated with a hackamore knotted bridle. A -hackamore is a sort of a halter, but it is made of the toughest kind of -rawhide and so tied that a knot presses disastrously against the lower -jaw of the horse. After being haltered the outlaw is blindfolded with a -gunnysack. To accomplish all this is a dangerous struggle between -horse and the wranglers. Then the word “Saddle” is shouted, and the -saddles are quickly adjusted to the backs of these untamed denizens of -the wild. It takes considerable time to accomplish all this and have the -girths tightened to the satisfaction of the wranglers first and of -the rider last. Invariably the rider is the court of final resort in -determining that the outlaw is in readiness to be mounted. - -At last the moments of tense expectancy were ended. It was seen that one -of the outlaws was ready, and at a call from the judges’ stand, Scotty -Meisch the first rough-rider leaped on to the back of his untamed horse. - -The “Ki-yi” yell was given—the blindfold slipped from Firefly’s -eyes, and the rowels of the rider sunk into the flanks of his horse. -Bucking and plunging, wheeling and whirling, all the time the rider not -daring to “pull leather” and so disqualify himself under the rules, -the outlaw once again proved himself a veritable demon. In just two -minutes after the struggle began Scotty Meisch measured his length on -the ground and Firefly was dashing for the open. The scene had been a -thrilling one. Roderick noticed that Scotty had to be helped off the -track, but he felt no concern—the rough-rider parted from his mount in -a hurry may be temporarily dazed but is seldom seriously hurt. - -Steamboat was the next horse. Bud Bledsoe was wont to brag there was -nothing wore hair that he could not ride. But Steamboat, when he felt -the weight of a rider on his back, was as usual possessed of a devil. -But Bledsoe was not the man to conquer the noted outlaw, and down he -went in prompt and inglorious defeat. - -Gin Fizz was a magnificent specimen of horseflesh—black as midnight -with a coat of hair that shone like velvet. His proud head was held high -in air. He stood like a statue while blindfolded and Roderick Warfield -was making ready to mount. - -The vast assemblage in the grandstand held their breath in amazement and -wondered what would become of the rider of the giant black. - -Then Roderick quickly mounted, and men and women rose to their feet to -see the terribleness of it all. Roderick sent his spurs deep into the -flanks of the black and plied the quirt in a desperate effort quickly to -master and subdue the outlaw. - -The horse reared and plunged with lightning quickness, and at times was -the center of a whirlwind of dust in his determined zig-zag efforts -to dislodge his rider. He rose straight up on his hind legs and for -a moment it looked as if he were going to fall over backwards. Then -seemingly rising still higher in air from his back feet he leaped -forward and downward, striking his front feet into the earth as if he -would break the saddle girth and certainly pitch the rider over his -head. He squatted, jumped, corkscrewed and sun-fished, leaped forward; -then he stopped suddenly and in demoniacal anger, as if determined not -to be conquered, he threw his head far around endeavoring to bite his -assailant’s legs. But at last the horse’s exertions wore him down -and he seemed to be reluctantly realizing that he had found his master. -In the end, after a terrible fight lasting fully seven minutes, he -quieted down in submission, and Gin Fizz thus acknowledged Roderick’s -supremacy. He was subdued. Roderick drew rein, patted him kindly, -dismounted and turned him over to the wranglers. Gin Fizz was no longer -an outlaw; he suffered himself to be led away, trembling in every limb -but submissive as a well-trained cow-pony. - -Approaching the judges’ stand, Roderick received a tremendous ovation -both from the onlookers and from his brother cowboys. The championship -ribbon was pinned to his breast, and now he was shaking hands -promiscuously with friends, acquaintances and strangers. But all the -while his eyes were roaming around in search of Gail Holden. - -At last he was out of the crowd, in a quiet corner, with Grant Jones, -the Shields sisters, and a few intimates. - -“Where is Miss Holden?” he enquired of Barbara. - -“Oh, she took poor Scotty Meisch to the hospital in an automobile. She -insisted on going.” - -“He’s not badly hurt, is he?” he asked drily. - -“Oh, no. Just shaken up a lot. He’ll be all right in a week’s -time, Dr. Burke says.” - -“Then Gail—I mean Miss Holden—didn’t see Gin Fizz broken?” - -“No. But she’ll hear about it all right,” exclaimed Barbara -enthusiastically. “My word, it was great!” And she shook his hand -again. - -But the day of triumph had ended in disappointment for Roderick -Warfield. He slipped away, saddened and crestfallen. - -“It was all for her I did it”—the thought kept hammering at his -brain. “And she never even stopped to see. I suppose she’s busy now -bathing the forehead of that contemptible little runt in the hospital. -Stella wouldn’t have turned me down like that.” - -And he found himself thinking affectionately and longingly of the little -“college widow.” He hadn’t been to the post office for three days. -The belated letter might have arrived at last. He would go and see at -all events; and to drown thought he whistled “The Merry Widow” waltz -as he grimly stalked along. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE WIDOW - -YES, there was a letter from Stella Rain. Roderick took it eagerly from -the hands of the clerk at the general delivery window. A good number of -people were already crowding into the post office from the fair grounds. -But he was too hungry for news to wait for quieter surroundings. So -he turned to a vacant corner in the waiting room and ripped open the -envelope. The letter was as follows: - -“Roderick:— - -“I am sure that what I am about to tell you will be for your good as -well as my own. It seems so long ago since we were betrothed. At that -time you were only a boy and I freely confess I liked you very, very -much. I had known you during your four years in college and you were -always just splendid. But Roderick, a real love affair has come into -my life—something different from all other experiences, and when you -receive this letter I shall be Mrs. Vance Albertrum Carter. - -“Mr. Carter, financially, is able to give me a splendid home. He is a -fine fellow and I know you would like him. Let me be to you the same as -to the other boys of old Knox—your friend, the ‘college widow.’ - -“Very sincerely, - -“Stella Rain.” - -Not a muscle of his face quivered as he read the letter, but at -its close he dropped both hands to his side in an attitude of utter -dejection. The blow had fallen so unexpectedly; he felt crushed and -grieved, and at the same time humiliated. But in an instant he had -recovered his outward composure. He thrust the letter into his pocket, -and shouldered his way through the throng at the doorway. He had left -Badger in a stall at the fair grounds. Thither he bent his steps, taking -a side street to avoid the crowd streaming into the town. The grandstand -and surrounding buildings were already deserted. He quickly adjusted -saddle and bridle, and threw himself on the pony’s back. - -“‘She knows I would like him,’”he muttered, as he gained -the race track, the scene of his recent triumphs, its turf torn and -dented with the hoofs of struggling steers and horses, thronged but an -hour before with a wildly excited multitude but now silent and void. -“‘Like him’.” he reiterated bitterly. “Yes—like hell.” - -And with the words he set his steed at the farther rail. Badger skimmed -over it like a deer and Roderick galloped on across country, making for -the hills. - -That night he did not return to the bunk house. - -It was high noon next day when he showed up at the ranch. He went -straight to Mr. Shields’ office, gave in his resignation, and took his -pay check. No explanations were required—Mr. Shields had known for a -considerable time that Roderick was leaving. He thanked him cordially -for his past services, congratulated him on his championship honors at -the frontier celebration, and bade him come to the ranch home at any -time as a welcome guest. Roderick excused himself from saying good-by -for the present to the ladies; he was going to stay for a while in -Encampment with his friend Grant Jones, and would ride out for an -evening visit before very long. Then he packed his belongings at the -bunk house, left word with one of the helpers for trunk and valise to -be carted into town, and rode away. Badger was Roderick’s own personal -property; he had purchased the pony some months before from Mr. Shields, -and as he leaped on its back after closing the last boundary gate he -patted the animal’s neck fondly and proudly. Badger alone was well -worth many months of hard and oftentimes distasteful work, a horse at -all events could be faithful, he and his good little pony would never -part—such was the burden of his thoughts as he left the Shields ranch -and the cowboy life behind him. - -Grant Jones was in Encampment, and jumped up from his writing table when -Roderick threw open the door of the shack and walked in. - -“Hello, old man, this is indeed a welcome visit. Where in the wide -world have you been?” - -He turned Roderick around so the light would fall upon his face as he -extended his hand in warmest welcome, and noticed he was haggard and -pale. - -“Oh,” said Roderick, “I have been up in the hills fighting it out -alone, sleeping under the stars and thinking matters over.” - -“What does this all mean, anyway, old man? I don’t understand -you,” said Grant with much solicitude. - -“Well, guess you better forget it then,” said Roderick half -abruptly. “But I owe you an apology for going away so unceremoniously -from the frontier gathering. I know we had arranged to dine together -last night But I just cleared out—that’s all. Please do not ask me -any questions, Grant, as to why and wherefore. If in the future I should -take you into my confidence that will be time enough.” - -“All right, old man,” said Grant, “here is my hand. And know now -and for all time it don’t make a derned bit of difference what has -happened, I am on your side to the finish, whether it is a desperate -case of petty larceny or only plain murder.” - -Grant laughed and tried to rouse his friend into hilarity. - -“It is neither,” replied Roderick laconically. “All the same -I’ve got some news for you. I have quit my job.” - -“At the Shields ranch?” cried Grant in astonishment. “Surely -there’s been no trouble there?” - -“Oh, no, we are all the best of friends. I am just tired of -cow-punching, and have other plans in view. Besides, remember the letter -we got pushed under the door here on the occasion of my last visit. -Perhaps I may be a bit skeered about having my hide shot full of holes, -eh, old man?” Roderick was now laughing. - -But Grant looked grave. He eyed his comrade tentatively. - -“Stuff and nonsense. The lunatic who wrote that letter was barking -up the wrong tree. He mistook you for the other fellow. You were never -seriously smitten in that quarter, now were you, Rod, old man?” - -“Certainly not. Barbara Shields is a fine girl, but I never even -dreamed of making love to her. I didn’t come to Wyoming to chase after -a millionaire’s daughter,” he added bitterly. - -“Oh, that’s Barbara’s misfortune not her fault,” laughed Grant. -“But I was afraid you had fallen in love with her, just as I fell head -over heels in love with Dorothy—for her own sake, dear boy, and not -for anything that may ever come to her from her father.” - -“You were afraid, do you say?” quizzed Roderick. “Have you -Mormonistic tendencies then? Do you grudge a twin to the man you always -call your best friend?” - -“Oh, you know there’s no thought like that in my mind,” protested -Grant. “But you came on to the field too late. You see Ben Bragdon was -already almost half engaged.” - -“So that’s the other fellow, is it?” laughed Roderick. “Oh, now -I begin to understand. Then things have come to a crisis between Barbara -and Bragdon.” - -“Well, this is in strict confidence, Rod. But it is true. That’s why -I was a bit nervous just now on your account—I kind of felt I had to -break bad news.” - -“Oh, don’t you worry on my account. Understand once and for all that -I’m not a marrying man.” - -“Well, we’ll see about that later on,” replied Grant, smiling. -“But I should have been real glad had you been the man to win Barbara -Shields. How jolly happy we would have been, all four together.” - -“Things are best just as they are,” said Roderick sternly. “I -wouldn’t exchange Badger, my horse out there, for any woman in the -world. Which reminds me, Grant, that I’ve come here to stay with you -for a while. Guess I can put Badger in the barn.” - -“Sure—you are always welcome; I don’t have to say that. But -remember that Barbara-Bragdon matter is a dead secret. Dorothy just -whispered it to me in strictest confidence. Hard lines that, for the -editor of such an enterprising newspaper as the Dillon Doublejack. But -the engagement is not to be announced until the Republican nomination -for state senator is put through. You know, of course, that Ben Bragdon -has consented to run against Carlisle and the smelter interests.” - -“I’m glad to hear it And now we have an additional reason to put our -shoulders to the wheel. We’ve got to send Ben Bragdon to Cheyenne for -Barbara’s sake. Count me in politics from this day on, old man. You -see I am out of a job. This will be something worth while—to help -down that blood-sucker Grady, and at the same time secure Bragdon’s -election.” - -“Ben Bragdon is the best man for Wyoming.” - -“I know it. Put me on his committee right away.” - -“You’ll be a tower of strength,” exclaimed Grant enthusiastically. -“The champion broncho-buster of the world—just think of that.” - -Roderick laughed loud and long. This special qualification for political -work mightily amused him. - -“Oh, don’t laugh,” Grant remonstrated, in all seriousness. “You -are a man of note now in the community, make no mistake. You can swing -the vote of every cow-puncher in the land. You are their hero—their -local Teddy Roosevelt.” - -Again Roderick was convulsed. - -“And by the way,” continued Grant, “I never had the chance to -congratulate you on that magnificent piece of work on Gin Fizz. It was -the greatest ever.” - -“Oh, we’ll let all that slide.” - -“No, siree. Wait till you read my column description of the immortal -combat in the Doublejack.” He turned to his writing desk, and picked -up a kodak print. “Here’s your photograph—snapped by Gail Holden -on the morning of the event, riding your favorite pony Badger. Oh, -I’ve got all the details; the half-tone has already been made. The -Encampment Herald boys have been chasing around all day for a picture, -but I’m glad you were in hiding. The Doublejack will scoop them proper -this time.” - -But Roderick was no longer listening. The name of Gail Holden had sent -his thoughts far away. - -“How’s Scotty Meisch?” he asked—rather inconsequentially as the -enthusiastic editor thought. - -“Oh, Scotty Meisch? He’s all right. Slight concussion of the -brain—will be out of the hospital in about two weeks. But Miss Holden, -as it turned out, did the lad a mighty good turn in rushing him to the -hospital He was unconscious when they got there. She knew more than -Doc Burke—or saw more; or else the Doc could not deny himself the -excitement of seeing you tackle Gin Fizz. But there’s no selfishness -in Grail Holden’s make-up—not one little streak.” - -In a flash Roderick Warfield saw everything under a new light, and a -great glow of happiness stole into his heart. It was not indifference -for him that had made Gail Holden miss the outlaw contest. What a fool -he had been to get such a notion into his head. - -“Guess I’ll go and feed Badger,” he said, as he turned away -abruptly and left the room. - -“When you come back I’ve a lot more to talk about,” shouted Grant, -resuming his seat and making a grab for his lead-pencil. - -But it was several hours before Roderick returned. He had baited the -pony, watched him feed, and just drowsed away the afternoon among the -fragrant bales of hay—drowsing without sleeping, chewing a straw and -thinking all the time. - -At last he strolled in upon the still busy scribe. Grant threw down his -pencil. - -“Thought you had slipped away again to the hills and the starlight -and all that sort of thing. I’m as hungry as a hunter. Let’s go down -town and eat.” - -“I’m with you,” assented Roderick. “But after dinner I want to -see Major Buell Hampton. Is he likely to be at home?” - -“It was about Buell Hampton I was going to speak to you. Oh, you -don’t know the news.” Grant was hopping around in great excitement, -changing his jacket, whisking the new coat vigorously. “But there, I -am pledged again to secrecy—Good God, what a life for a newspaper man -to lead, bottled up all the time!” - -“Then when am I to be enlightened?” - -“He sent for me this morning and I spent an hour with him. He -also wanted you, but you were not to be found. He wants to see you -immediately. Tonight will be the very time, for he said he would be at -home.” - -“That’s all right, Grant. But, say, old fellow, I want half an hour -first with the Major—all alone.” - -“Mystery after mystery,” fairly shouted the distracted editor. -“Can’t you give me at least this last news item for publication? -I’m losing scoops all the time.” - -“I’m afraid you must go scoopless once again,” grinned Roderick. -“But after dinner you can do a little news-hunting on your own account -around the saloons, then join me later on at the Major’s. That suit -you?” - -“Oh, I suppose I’ve got to submit,” replied Grant, as he drew on -his now well-brushed coat. “But all through dinner, I’ll have you -guessing, old man. You cannot imagine the story Buell Hampton’s -going to tell you. Oh, you needn’t question me. I’m -ironclad—bomb-proof—as silent as a clam.” - -Roderick laughed at the mixed metaphors, and arm in arm the friends -started for their favorite restaurant. - - - - -CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD - -A COUPLE of hours later Roderick arrived at Buell Hampton’s home. The -Major was alone; there were no signs of Jim Rankin or Tom Sun; no traces -of the recent midnight toil. The room looked just the same as on the -occasion of Roderick’s last visit, now more than two months ago, -except for a curtain hanging across one wall. - -Buell Hampton was seated before the great fireplace and notwithstanding -the season of the year had a small bed of coals burning. - -“It takes the chill away, for one thing,” he explained after -greeting his visitor, “and then it gives me the inspiration of real -live embers into which to look and dream. There are so many poor people -in the world, so much suffering and so many heartaches, that one hardly -knows where to begin.” - -“Well, Major,” said Roderick, “I am glad to find you in this mood. -I’m one of the sufferers—or at least have been. I have come to -you for some heartache balm. Oh, I’m not jesting. Really I came here -tonight determined to give you my confidence—to ask your advice as to -my future plans.” - -“I am extremely glad you feel toward me like that, my lad,” -exclaimed Buell Hampton, grasping Roderick’s arm and looking kindly -into his eyes. “I have always felt some subtle bond of sympathy -between us. I have wanted to help you at the outset of a promising -career in every way I can. I count it a privilege to be called in to -comfort or to counsel, and you will know later that I have something -more for you than mere words of advice.” - -“Well, it is your advice I want most badly now, Major. In the first -place I have thrown up my job with Mr. Shields.” - -“Tired of cow-punching?” nodded Buell Hampton with a smile. “I -knew that was coming.” - -“In the second place I want to be perfectly candid with you. I have a -prospecting venture in view.” - -“That I have guessed from several hints you have dropped from time to -time.” - -“Well, you spoke a while ago about your reserving some little interest -for me in your great gold discovery. That was mighty kind, and rest -assured I appreciate your goodness to one who only a few months ago was -a stranger to you.” - -“You forget that I am a reader of character—that no kindred souls -are strangers even at a first meeting, my son.” - -Buell Hampton spoke very softly but very clearly; his gaze rested -fixedly on Roderick; the latter felt a thrill run through him—yes, -assuredly, this great and good man had been his friend from the first -moment they had clasped hands. - -“You were very good then, Major,” he replied, “in judging me so -kindly. But I am afraid that I evoked your special sympathy and interest -because of the confidences I gave you at one of our early meetings. You -will not have forgotten how I spoke in a most sacred way about certain -matters in Galesburg and what I intended to do when I had sufficient -money to carry out my plans.” - -“I remember distinctly,” said the Major. “Your frank confidence -greatly pleased me. Well, has anything happened?” - -“There is just one man on earth I will show this letter to, and you, -Major, are the man.” - -Saying this Roderick handed over Stella Rain’s letter. - -After the Major had carefully perused it and put it back in the -envelope, he reached across to Roderick. - -“No,” said Roderick, “don’t give that letter back to me. Kindly -lay it on the red coals and let me see it burn to gray ashes. I have -fought this thing out all alone up in the hills, and I am now almost -glad that letter came, since it had to be. But let it vanish now in -the flames, just as I am going to put Stella Rain forever out of my -thoughts. Yesterday the receipt of this letter was an event; but from -now on I shall endeavor to regard it as only an incident.” - -Silently and musingly the Major complied with Roderick’s request and -consigned the letter to the glowing embers. When the last trace had -disappeared, he looked up at Roderick. - -“I will take one exception to your remarks,” he said. “Do not -think unkindly of Stella Rain, nor even attempt to put her out of your -thoughts. Her influence over you has been all for good during the past -months, and she has shown herself a very fine and noble woman in -the gentle manner in which she has broken the bonds that had tied -you—bonds impulsively and all too lightly assumed on your part, as -she knew quite well from the beginning. I have a profound admiration -for your little ‘college widow,’ Roderick, and hold her in high -esteem.” - -There was just the suspicion of tears in Roderick’s eyes—a lump -in his throat which rendered it impossible for him to reply. Yes; all -bitterness, all sense of humiliation, were now gone. He too was thinking -mighty kindly of sweet and gentle Stella Rain. - -“Remember,” continued the Major quietly, “you told me how she -warned you that some other day another girl, the real girl, would come -along. I guess that has happened now.” - -Roderick started; there was a protesting flush upon his cheek. - -“Even though you may not yet fully realize it,” quietly added the -Major. - -“What do you mean?” faltered Roderick; the flush of offended dignity -had now turned into the blush of confusion. - -The Major smiled benignantly. - -“Oh, my young friend, remember again that I read men’s minds and -hearts just a little. There must be some new influence in your life.” - -“How do you know that—how can you say that?” - -Buell Hampton laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder and smiled. - -“Because otherwise you would be still up among the hills alone, young -man. Your fight in the wilderness would have lasted for forty days—not -for a single night. The fever of love does not die down so suddenly -without an antidote. The resignation you have shown while we burned that -letter is not merely a negative condition of mind. There is something -positive as well.” - -“Oh, I can’t admit that,” protested Roderick. “Or at least -I dare not allow myself to think like that,” he corrected himself -hurriedly. - -“Well, we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile all is well. The rich -harvest of experience has been reaped; the fertile soil awaits the next -tillage. The important moment of every life is ‘The Now.’ And this -is what we have to think about tonight, Roderick.” - -“Precisely, Major. And that is just why I opened the conversation. As -I said at the outset, you assigned me an interest in your gold mine for -a specific object that no longer exists.” - -“On the contrary,” replied Buell Hampton, “I assigned it on -general principles—on the general principle of helping a worthy young -man at the critical period of starting into useful life-work. But I may -tell you also,” he laughed lightly, “that I had in my mind’s eye -valuable and important future services whereby the interest would be -paid for most adequately.” - -“And these services are what?” asked Roderick, with a delighted -gleam in his eyes. - -“We’ll come to that presently. Where is Grant Jones?” - -“He was to follow me here in half an hour. Time’s almost up, unless -he’s on the trail of a newspaper scoop.” Roderick was smiling -happily now. - -“Well, we shall await his coming. What do you say to a little music to -beguile the time?” - -The Major glanced at his violin resting on a side table. - -“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” responded Roderick, -jumping up with alacrity and handing to the master his old Cremona. - -“I am glad you like music,” said Buell Hampton, as he began to -tighten his bow. “Its rhythmic cadences of tone are a language -universal. Its power is unseen but felt, captivating and enthralling -alike the cultured and the untutored. The harmony of tone enwraps the -soul like a mantle. It influences heart and intellect It may depress in -saddest tears or elevate to highest ecstasy. Music is the melody of the -Gods. It is like an ethereal mist—a soft and dainty distillation of a -thousand aromatic perfumes, inspiring and wholesome to the soul as the -morning dew is to buds and blossoms.” - -As he spoke he had been gently thrumming the strings, and now he placed -the violin to his chin. Soft and plaintive melodies alternating with -wild and warring airs followed one after the other until the entire room -seemed to be quivering with melody. For fully an hour, unconscious of -the passing time, the Major entertained his guest, and concluded with -a rapid surging theme as if it were a call to battle and for greater -achievements. - -Grant Jones had not yet arrived. Roderick recovered from the trance into -which the music had thrown him. He thanked the Major for the pleasure he -had given, then threw a glance at the doorway. - -“Where the deuce can he be?” he murmured. - -But at the very moment the door opened, and in walked the belated -editor. - -“Where have you been all this time?” asked Roderick, half -petulantly. - -“On the porch of course,” replied Grant. “Do you think I was going -to interrupt such divine melody?” - -Buell Hampton smiled pleasedly while he laid down the violin on the -table. - -“Well,” he said, “be seated, Grant, my boy. I am going to lose no -further time. I have some figures to work on tonight. This is my first -night at home, Roderick, for many weeks. Grant already knows the story. -Now I shall tell it to you.” - -And straightway the Major related how Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney -Earnest had garnered the midnight harvests of gold. Then he drew aside -the curtain hanging on the wall, unlocked the stout door which it -concealed, and, to Roderick’s amazement, displayed the piled up sacks -of golden ore. - -“All quite equal to the rich samples you handled here several months -ago,” said Buell Hampton, as he waved his hand toward the accumulated -treasure. - -“Great Cæsar!” gasped Roderick. “There must be hundreds of -thousands of dollars there.” - -“The total will run into millions, young man,” smiled the Major. -Then he closed the door, relocked it, and dropped the curtain. But he -did not resume his seat. - -“Now this is where your services, and those of Grant Jones will come -in. This great wealth must be safely transported to Denver. And as I -have already explained to you tonight, I still want to guard jealously -my secret of the Hidden Valley on whose resources I may or may not draw -again—this the future must decide. All of us who are interested have -abundance for the present; we are equipped for many good works. The -removal of this large quantity of ore, without attracting public -attention here, requires good judgment on the part of men who can be -absolutely trusted. You are the men selected for the responsible duty. -And remember it will be dangerous duty should our secret leak out. The -days of hold-ups are passing in the West, but have not yet passed; for -as you both know there are still a good few desperadoes among the wilds -of our Wyoming mountains.” - -“My God—what loot!” murmured Roderick, glancing toward the -curtain. - -“Yes—a rich loot,” acquiesced the Major. “Now you young men will -understand that your interests are my own—that while I am delighted to -share this treasure with my chosen friends, these friends have been -and continue to be quite indispensable to me. Roderick, your question -earlier in the evening is answered—you will have a rightful share in -this gold. Get ready in about a week’s time to earn it Now go tonight. -I will see you later on to unfold my plans for the journey in closer -detail.” - -“Great guns,” groaned Grant Jones, as the two young men gained the -roadway. “What a newspaper story—what a scoop! And not one damned -word can be put in type.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING - -BY SUBTLE alchemy of thought Roderick’s feelings toward Scotty Meisch -had become entirely changed. On the ranch he had treated the rough, -uncultivated and at times insolent youth with contempt that was scarcely -concealed. He was not of his class; and Roderick by his manner had shown -that he counted Scotty as outside the pale of good breeding—a fellow -not to be associated with except in the necessary work of roping a steer -or handling a mob of cattle. It had been almost an act of condescension -on his part to accept Scotty’s challenge to try out their respective -riding abilities at the frontier fair. Any hurt the lad might have -received in the contest was part of the day’s game, and at the moment -Roderick had treated the incident with indifference. But now he found -himself feeling quite solicitous as to the poor fellow’s condition. -Of course Gail Holden, who had interested herself in the injured cowboy, -had nothing to do with this change of sentiment—at least Roderick’s -consciousness took no cognizance of her influence in the matter. All the -same, as he walked over to the hospital on the following afternoon to -inquire about the invalid, he was conning in his mind the chances of -perhaps meeting Gail there. - -However Scotty Meisch was alone when Roderick was admitted to the ward. -There was only another occupant of the long room, occupying a cot at -the farther end. The nurse as she brought Roderick to Scotty’s bedside -declared that her patient was getting along fine, and that a visit from -a friend would cheer him up and do him good. Roderick smiled as he sat -down at the foot of the bed and the nurse moved away to attend to other -duties. Except for a bandaged head the cowboy looked fairly fit. - -“How are you, old man?” Roderick asked in a kindly tone. - -Scotty seemed quite disconcerted by this friendly greeting. He looked -sheepish and shame-faced. - -“Oh, I’ll be all right in no time,” he mumbled. “Expect you -think I’m a mean cuss,” he added, after a moment’s pause, glancing -at Roderick then hastily looking away again. - -“I haven’t said so,” replied Roderick in a pleasant and assuring -way. - -“No, I know you hain’t said it. But I’ve never, liked you from -the first time we met over at the Shield’s ranch. I don’t know -why—damned if I do. But I didn’t like you and don’t like you now, -and I’m gosh’lmighty ashamed of myself fer bein’ so ornery.” - -“You shouldn’t speak of yourself so harshly,” said Roderick, -somewhat interested in the turn the conversation was taking. - -“I don’t deserve any kindness at your hands,” Meisch went on. “I -sure planned to kill you onct ‘til I found out you weren’t sweet -on Barbara Shields. Oh, I’m a low-down cuss, but I’m ambitious. You -hain’t the feller I’m after any more. It’s that lawyer Carlisle -and I’ll git him, you jist see. He’s got to keep out of my way,” -and as Scotty, with a black scowl on his face, said this he looked the -part of an avenging demon right enough. - -“I know,” he continued, “Barbara is older than I am, but I’m -dead gone on her, even if she don’t know it, an’ I’ll do things -yet to that feller Carlisle.” Roderick was fairly perplexed by these -references to Barbara Shields and the disclosure of the rough cowboy’s -feelings toward his employer’s daughter. For a moment he could not -find the proper word to say. He just ventured a platitude, kindly spoken -as it was kindly intended: “Oh, you must get over these broodings, -Scotty.” - -“It’s not broodings—it’s business, and I mean it,” he -muttered. “Oh, you needn’t look so darned solemn. I’ve no more bad -feelin’s agin you. But when you first came to the ranch, you know you -couldn’t ride any better than a kid. But you began givin’ yourself -airs, an’ then when I thought you were goin’ to cut me out -with Barbara I jist got plum crazy. That’s why I sent you fair -warnin’.” - -A light broke in on Roderick. - -“So it was you who slipped that note under Grant Jones’ door, was -it?” he asked in great surprise. - -“Yas. You can know it now; who cares? But it was only later I saw -I was on a blind trail—that it was the other one you’re -after—goin’ fishin’ an’ all that sort o’ thing.” - -Roderick reddened. - -“Oh, that’s all fudge too,” he exclaimed uneasily. - -“I’m not so sure ‘bout that,” replied Scotty, with a cunning -look in his eyes. “‘Sides, she’s dead gone on you, that’s -a cert. She was here all yesterday afternoon, and could speak about -nothin’ else—praised yer ridin’ and allowed she was tarnation -sorry to have missed seein’ you on Gin Fizz. Which reminds me that -I’ve got to comgratulate you on the championship.” He slipped a hand -timidly and tentatively from under the bed-spread. “Oh, I can admit -myself beat when I’m beat. You’ve grown to be a better’n rider -than me. I’m only a little skinny chap at the best, but you -showed yourself strong enough to kill that great big steer in the -bull-doggin’. You’ve got me skinned, and you hold the championship -right enough. Shake.” - -And Scotty at last mustered up the moral courage to extend his hand. -Roderick took it and shook it warmly. So Gail had been talking about -him!—his heart had leaped with joy. - -“I’m glad to hear you speak like that, Scotty,” he said with great -cordiality. “You and I can come to be mighty good friends.” - -“Gee, but I wish I looked like you,” remarked Scotty, lapsing into a -half smile. “Shake hands again with me, won’t you?” - -Roderick reached over and once more bestowed a good honest squeeze; -and he improved the occasion by begging Scotty not to indulge in evil -thoughts about killing people or anything of that sort. - -“What makes you kind t’ me?” asked the lad as he looked -inquiringly at Roderick. - -“I don’t know that I have been particularly kind to you,” replied -Roderick. “I begin to realize that I should have been here before now -to help cheer you up a bit while convalescing.” - -Scotty turned from Roderick and looking at the ceiling was silent for a -few moments. At last he said: “Expect if I’d stay here a long, long -time you’d keep on bein’ kind t’ me. Possibly you would bring -Barbara with you on some of your visits. But I know I’m goin’ t’ -get well, that’s the pity of it all. I wouldn’t be in bed now if -the doctor hadn’t said I got ter stay here for a few days. When I’m -well, why, then it’s all off with you an’ Scotty. You won’t pay -any more attention to me when I’m once more sound as a nut an’ -ridin’ range than you would a low down coyote.” - -“Why should I become indifferent to you?” inquired Roderick. - -“Oh, no reason why you should, only you will,” replied Scotty. -“You are of the high-falutin’ an’ educated kind an’—well, I -never went to school more’n two weeks in my life. I got tired of the -educatin’ business—stole a horse and never did go back. An’ they -never caught me, nuther.” - -He brightened up when he said this and laughed at his cleverness as if -it were a most pleasant remembrance. - -“Where was your childhood home?” inquired Roderick. - -“Now, right there,” replied Scotty, “is where yer presumin’. -You’re not talkin’ to me. D’ye suppose I’m goin’ ter tell yer -and have this whole business piped off and those fellers come out here -an’ pinch me for hoss-stealin’. Not on yer life, so long as Scotty -Meisch knows himself.” - -Roderick smiled as he said: “Surely, Scotty, you are a very suspicious -person. I had no thought of doing what you suggest.” - -“Waal,” drawled Scotty, “if you’d have been as near goin’ to -the penitentiary as often as I have, you’d learn to keep yer mouth -shut when people begin to inquire into your past hist’ry an’ not -unbosom yerself. Fact is, my hist’ry won’t stand investigatin’. -It’s fuller of thin places an’ holes than an old-fashioned tin corn -grater. You know what a grater is, don’t you? It’s a tin bent over -into a half moon an’ nailed to a board with holes punched from inside -out to make it rough. Where I come from we used to husk new corn just as -soon as it was out of the milk an’ grate it into meal. About the only -thing we had to live on was cornmeal mush an’ milk. Wish I had some -now. I’m hungrier than hell for it.” - -The primitiveness of it all rather appealed to Roderick, and he called -the nurse and asked if she wouldn’t serve the patient with some -cornmeal mush with milk for dinner that evening. - -“Certainly,” she replied, “if Dr. Burke does not object,” and -went away to make inquiries. In a little while she returned and said: -“The doctor says a nice bowl of cornmeal mush and milk would be just -the thing for Mr. Meisch.” And it was so arranged. - -When the nurse had gone Roderick noticed a tear trickling down the cheek -of Scotty and in order not to embarrass the boy he turned away and stood -looking out of the window. Presently Scotty said: “I wish ter hell I -was decent, that’s what I wish.” - -Without turning from the window Roderick inquired: “How old are you, -Scotty?” - -“Guess I’m about nineteen. I don’t know fer sure. They never did -tell me when my birthday was.” - -“How would you like to go to school, Scotty? Brace up and be an -educated chap like other fellows.” - -“Me learn to read an’ write?” exclaimed Scotty. “Look here, Mr. -Warfield, are you chaffin’ me? That’s what some Englishmen called it -when they meant teasin’ and so I say chaffin’. Might as well use all -the big words a feller picks up on the way.” Roderick laughed aloud -at Scotty’s odd expressions and turned to him and said: “Scotty, you -aren’t a bad fellow. You have a good heart in you.” - -“I don’t know about that,” said Scotty, shaking his head. “One -time there was a feller told me that tough cusses like me don’t have -hearts—just gizzards.” - -“Well,” said Roderick, laughing, “my time has come to go now but I -want to tell you I like you, Scotty. You seem to me to be the making of -a very decent sort of chap, and if you will be a real good fellow -and are sincere about wanting to go to school and make something of -yourself, I believe I can arrange for you to do so.” - -“Honest, Mr. Warfield, honest? Are you tellin’ me the truth or is -this a sick bed jolly?” - -“Certainly I am telling you the truth,” replied Roderick. “You -think it all over until I come and see you again.” - -“When’ll you come? Tomorrow?” - -“Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’ll come tomorrow.” - -“All right,” said Scotty, “I’ll sure look for yer.” The -next day when Roderick called, Major Buell Hampton and Grant Jones -accompanied him. They had a long talk with Scotty whose rapid recovery -showed improvement even from the previous day. After the subject had -been introduced by Roderick, who told Scotty that he had informed his -friends of the lad’s desire to go to school, Major Buell Hampton -observed: “A printing office, Mr. Meisch, is a liberal education -within itself. I have been talking this matter over with Mr. Jones, -the Editor of the Dillon Doublejack, and with Mr. Warfield, and we have -mutually agreed that if you are in earnest about leaving the range for -a while and will learn to read books and generally improve your mind, -we shall give you the opportunity. As soon as you are able to leave the -hospital, how would you like to go over to the little town of Dillon -with Mr. Grant Jones, this gentleman at my right, and go into his -printing office?” - -“You would be my devil to start in with,” said Grant, -good-naturedly. - -“Guess that’d about fit me,” responded Scotty with a grin. -“I’m a sort of a devil anyway, ain’t I?” and he looked toward -Roderick. - -“Mr. Jones means a different kind of a devil, Scotty,” laughed -Roderick. “What Major Buell Hampton suggests to you is most excellent -advice, and I think you had better accept the offer. This job will give -you a home, and you will work in the printing office. You will soon -learn to read books, and also you will become a typesetter which, as -Major Hampton told you, is a practical education within itself and will -lead to better things and greater things along educational lines. Of -course, it may be some time before that knock on your head gets all -right.” - -“Oh, don’t worry about my old bean,” said Scotty with a smile, as -he touched the bandage that encircled his cranium. - -Finally Scotty said he believed he would like to try the new job. “You -know, I’ve been knocked ‘round over the world an’ kicked an’ -thumped an’ had my ears cuffed an’ my shins barked so much that -I don’t hardly know what to make uv you fellers. If I was sure you -wasn’t stringin’ me an’ really meant it all as a kindness, why, -I’ll be goshdamed if I wouldn’t git up out o’ bed this minute -an’ start for Dillon. That’s what I’d do. I ain’t no piker.” - -This speech was very amusing to Grant Jones; and he assured the injured -boy that he himself was not going over to Dillon for perhaps a week, -by which time if he were attentive to the instructions of the doctor he -probably would be able to accompany him. - -“I’ll take you over,” said Grant, “and we’ll batch it together -so far as a place to sleep is concerned in the printing office. There -is a good boarding house just across the street where you can get your -meals.” - -“Who’s goin’ ter pay for them?” asked Scotty. “I ain’t got -any money.” - -“That,” said Roderick, “is what Major Buell Hampton is going to do -for you. Not only will he pay your board for one year until your work -is worth wages in the printing office, but he will also get you some -new clothes and a new pair of shoes and rig you out in good shape, old -man.” - -“Gee, but you’re good to me, Major Hampton, and Warfield too. Yer -ought ter cuff my ears instead uv bein’ so all-fired kind.” - -With this the loveless boy turned towards the wall and covered his -face. Both Major Hampton and Grant, as well as Roderick, were noticeably -affected, and the three walked over toward the window while Scotty was -collecting himself. - -“I say,” said Grant, sotto voce, “in the language of Jim Rankin, -the worst that poor little devil will get—if he goes with me—will be -the best of it.” - -Then the visitors turned round to say good-by. The invalid had had about -enough excitement for one day. - -Just as they were departing, Scotty beckoned Roderick to his side. - -“Stop a minute or two with me—alone,” he whispered. “I wants ter -tell you somethin’.” - -Roderick excused himself to the others; he would join them on the porch -presently. - -Scotty’s face wore a keen eager look. - -“Say, if I helps you,” he began, “I’ll be doin’ a good turn, -won’t I, to the girl that saved my life by hurryin’ me along to this -‘orspital here?” - -“I believe she will count it as a favor,” replied Roderick. “How -can you help me, Scotty?” - -“An’ I’ll be doin’ you a favor,” continued the lad, without -answering the direct question, “if I do a good turn to your friend -with the name that reminds me of Bull Durham terbaccer?” - -“Buell Hampton,” laughed Roderick. - -“The Major you also call him. Wal, I can drop him a word o’ -warnin’ too.” - -“Oh, he has never a thought about love affairs,” replied Roderick, -smiling. - -“But this is a warnin’ of another kind. Listen.” And Scotty drew -himself up to a sitting posture on the bed. “Come nearer.” - -Roderick complied; his ear was close to Scotty’s lips. The cowboy -spoke in a whisper. - -“The Major’s got a pile o’ rich ore stored in his house. There’s -a bunch o’ fellers agoin’ to get it, an’ they’ll shoot to kill -as sure as God made hell.” - -Roderick mastered his emotion of surprise. - -“When is this to take place, Scotty?” he asked quietly. - -“Any night after tonight. Tonight they’ve fixed to square accounts -with some sheep herders over Jack Creek way. Then they’re goin’ for -the Major.” - -Roderick gripped the other’s hand. - -“Scotty, you have done me the biggest service in the world,” he said -earnestly. “But one thing more—who are these men?” - -“I dassn’t tell. They’d plug me full o’ holes the moment I got -out o’ here.” - -Roderick felt perplexed. He did not like to press for information that -might seem to threaten danger for Scotty himself. - -The latter was watching his face furtively. - -“I know you’re straight—you’ll never give a feller like me away -if I tell you one name.” - -“Never. You may stake your life on that.” - -“Wal, I don’t care what happens to him anyway. He’s a bad egg—a -rotten bad egg clean through. And I’m done with him from now right -on. I’m goin’ to take that printin’ devil’s job and act on the -square.” - -“That’s right, Scotty. And we’ll all help you to get clear of bad -companions and bad influences. So it’s all right for you to give me -that name.” - -“An’ she’ll be pleased too, won’t she, that Holden young -lady?” - -“She’ll be always grateful to you for saving Buell Hampton.” - -“That’s ‘nuff for me. The leader o’ that gang is—” - -Scotty paused a moment; Roderick waited, silent and still. - -“Bud Bledsoe,” whispered the lad. “Now I’ve stopped hatin’ -you, I’ve sort o’ turned to hatin’ him and all his kind. But -you’ll not give me away, Warfield? I wants ter hold down that -printin’ job—that editor feller will make a man of me, that’s just -how I feel.” - -“And just as we all feel,” said Roderick. “Now, Scotty, you must -lie down. Let me fix your pillow for you. You’ve got some fever yet, I -can see. You must rest, old fellow. You look tired.” - -“Yes; I’m doggoned tired,” murmured the lad wearily, as he sank -back on the pillow and closed his eyes. - -“He is sleeping now, I think,” said Roderick to the nurse as he -passed quietly out of the ward. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK - -AFTER a brief consultation on the hospital veranda, Buell Hampton, -Roderick and Grant decided on an immediate consultation with Jim Rankin. -They found the ex-sheriff busy among the horses down at the brush stable -over the hill from the Major’s home. - -Jim received the startling news with great complacency. - -“I’ve been expectin’ tumultuous news o’ this kind for quite -a while,” he said. “Oh, I’m up to all the didoes o’ both the -cowpunchers and the sheep herders. Never mind how I got to know them -things. I just know ‘em, and that’s ‘nuff said, good and plenty, -for all present. If the cowpunchers are going to Jack Creek tonight, -there will be hell a-poppin’.” - -“Not murder, surely?” exclaimed Roderick. - -“Wal, there’s no sayin’ how them things end,” replied Jim. -“You see it’s this way. The cowpunchers claim they’re afeard the -sheep’ll cross over Jack Creek, an’ they’ll go armed with great -big clubs as well as shootin’ irons. They’ll undertake, I’m -‘lowin’, ter kill with their dubs a whole lot o’ sheep, maybe the -hull kit an’ bilin’ uv ‘em, shoot up the mess wagons where the -sheep herders are sleepin’, an’ the chances are nine outer ten that -they’ll kill the herders an’ then jist nachur’ly burn the wagons -an’ the corpses, kill the shepherd dogs too an’ throw them on -ter the fire and generally do a hellish piece uv intimidatin’ work. -They’ll burn the wagons ter hide evidence uv their guilt. You bet -they’ll git keerless with their artillery.” - -“Good God!” murmured Roderick in horror and surprise. - -“We must stop this murderous business,” remarked Buell Hampton. - -“And get hold of Bud Bledsoe before he can do further harm,” -suggested Grant Jones. “Let’s hunt up the sheriff.” - -“Now, just go slow, g’nlemen, please,” replied Jim, expectorating -an inconvenient mouthful of tobacco juice and wiping his lips with the -back of his hand. “Jist you leave this business to me. I’ve been -prognosticatin’ trouble for months back, an’ know jist how to act. -No sheriff is wanted—at least not the bum sheriff we’ve got at the -present time. He needs no warnin’ from us—mark my words. And even if -he didn’t chance to know what we might be tellin’ him, when he -did know, it would be his pertic’lar business to arrive after the -killin’—that’s politics. Do you git me, Major?” - -“I’m afraid I get you all right, Jim,” replied Buell Hampton -gravely. - -“Well, let us go and see Ben Bragdon,” proposed Roderick. - -“Not on your life,” replied Jim excitedly. “Hell, man, he’s the -attorney fur the cattle fellers.” - -“He is a gentleman,” exclaimed Roderick, “and if he is the -attorney for the cow men, so much the better. He would advise the bosses -of this contemplated lawbreaking raid and murder, and of course they -would immediately take steps to keep the cowboys from committing such -wickedness.” - -Jim Rankin’s black eyes fairly snapped as he looked Roderick straight -in the face and exclaimed: “Roderick, are yer as big a tenderfoot as -that? Don’t yer know the cowboys don’t go out murderin’ uv their -own accord on these here cut-throat raids? They go, by gunnies, ‘cause -they’re paid by the higher ups ter do these dastardly killin’ -acts. Why, gosh ‘lmighty, Ben Bragdon draws a monthly retainer fee uv -several figures ter protect the higher ups an’ there yer are, plain as -a handle on a gourd. No, by gunnies, while the Major and Mr. Jones keep -guard here, you an’ me, Roderick, will have ter go alone an’ jist -nachurally take the law into our own hands. We’ll have plenty uv -shootin’ irons an’ loco the cowboys by shootin’ an’ wingin’ -two or three uv ‘em, Bud Bledsoe in pertic’lar. Oh, you bet I know -how to do this job,” and he chuckled reassuringly. - -“Well, I don’t,” replied Roderick. “I don’t pretend to know -these cold-blooded murdering ways of the West or anything of this -lawless feud that is going on between the cattlemen and the sheep men. -However, I will go with you, Jim. When shall we start?” - -“Immediately after supper. There’s no moon and it looks a little -squally. It will be darker than a stack of black cats, but by gunnies, -I know the way. All you’ve got to do is to have yer shootin’ irons -ready, follow me and shoot when I shoot Now I guess there’s no need -my onbosomin’ myself any more,” he added with a comprehensive glance -around. - -Roderick was unable to repress a smile. - -“All right, Jim, I’m game, and ready for the lark.” - -“By gunnies, it ain’t no lark howsumever; I know yer game,” -replied Rankin. “You bet I kin tell a scrapper when I see him. Now -not a word to anyone else besides us four—exceptin’ of course, Boney -Earnest I’m goin’ over to the smelter right now, and will arrange -for him to be here tonight to help the Major.” - -“And Tom Sun?” asked Roderick, anxiously. - -“Oh, he’s in no danger. Them fellers are after his herders but not -after the big man. They know better—the law would be poppin’ -like hell if they ever made the mistake o’ hurtin’ one o’ the -higher-ups.” - -“Besides, Mr. Sun is at Rawlins today on business,” observed Buell -Hampton. “He is riding, and is to come straight here. But he told me -not to expect him until midnight.” - -“Which the cowpunching gang know quite well,” said Jim emphatically. -“You bet they are playin’ up tonight jist because they cal’clate -on his absence. Now we’ll be a-movin’. Major, get your rifles well -oiled—you may need ‘em. My ridin’ hoss is over at the livery barn, -and you an’ me, Roderick, will start from there at eight o’clock -sharp. Oh, you bet we’ll have tumultuous doin’s. Jist you an’ me -‘ll show these killin’ cusses they’re holdin’ bob-tailed flushes -fur oncet. They won’t show up here for the gold ore after we’re -through with ‘em. Reminds me uv the old sheriff days, boys. An’ its -‘lmighty good to be back to them,” he added, pushing his hat back on -his head determinedly. - -“I think we must put you up for sheriff again next election,” -laughed Grant Jones. - -“That’s just what I’m prognosticatin’,” replied the rugged -old frontiersman, with a grim smile. “Folks will see who’s the -real sheriff tonight—me or that white-livered double-dealin’ cur. -Mills.” And he strode away in the direction of the smelting plant, -chewing his tobacco cud vigorously. - -At the appointed hour that night Roderick was at the livery barn, and -got ready his faithful horse, Badger. He had only waited a few minutes -when Jim Rankin made his appearance. They were soon in their saddles and -headed for Jack Creek. - -The night was very dark, and despite the would-be sheriff’s vaunted -knowledge of the country they lost themselves several times, and on one -occasion had to retrace their steps four or five miles. Wherever it was -possible they urged their horses on as rapidly as was prudent, but often -for long distances it was a case of picking their way at a walking pace -through the inky blackness. It was within an hour of midnight when at -last they turned from the main road to the westward along the north bank -of Jack Creek, which was the dividing line between the flockmasters’ -and the cattle men’s range. Rankin explained that the bands of sheep -were being held about two miles on to the westward. - -They had not gone very far up the creek when they were startled by the -sight of two great fires burning like haystacks. They spurred their -horses and hurried as fast as possible over the uncertain and little -used road, and soon came upon a weird and terrible scene. Some three -or four hundred sheep had been clubbed to death and lay like scattered -boulders over the ground, while the two covered wagons where the herders -cooked their meals and likewise slept were fast burning to ashes. - -“By gunnies,” said Jim Rankin, “we didn’t get here quick enough. -They’ve sure done their hellish work. I’ll bet there’s two sheep -herders an’ two shepherd dogs bumin’ to cinders in them there fires. -It’s hell, ain’t it? They beat us to it for sure. But usually -them doin’s don’t come off ‘til one or two o’clock in the -mornin’.” - -“Where are the balance of the sheep?” inquired Roderick. “I -thought you said there were several thousand.” - -“Why, boy,” said Jim, “they’re chasin’ down toward Saratoga as -if the wolves were after them. There’s ‘bout three thousand sheep in -each band an’ there were two bands uv ‘em.” - -Just then four masked men rode up out of the darkness toward the burning -outfits, but quickly checked their horses when they saw the two mounted -strangers. - -“Don’t shoot, Roderick, don’t shoot,” whispered Jim. “By -gunnies, they’ve got us covered. Don’t lift your artillery. -They’ll kill us sure if yer do.” Then he raised his trembling voice -in a shout: “Hey, you fellers, we seed somethin’ burnin’ here. -Wonder what ‘tis?” - -A deep guttural voice came back: “You two ‘ll find it a dam sight -more healthy to git back on the main road an’ tend to your own -business. You have got jist one minute to start.” - -“Come on,” said Jim, agitatedly, whirling his horse, putting spurs -to him and leaving Roderick trailing far behind. - -Roderick rode along toward the main road which they had just left after -crossing over Jack Creek. He was disgusted with it all and with Jim -Rankin’s poltroonery in particular. The sight he had seen by the -gleaming light of the burning wagons was ghastly. The innocent, helpless -sheep that had been clubbed to death through the selfishness of men. He -was in no mood for hilarity. It was a sight that would remain with him -and haunt him. Then too, he had received a new measure of Jim Rankin. - -But Roderick Warfield had all the blind audacity of youth and did not -give the old westerner Jim Rankin the credit he deserved. Jim Rankin was -versed in the ways of these western transgressors, and knew the price he -and Roderick would have to pay for “butting in” on a quarrel between -the cattle and the sheep men that was no direct concern of outsiders. -This price was death, swift and merciless. - -When Roderick reached the highway he pulled his horse to the right -toward the bridge that spanned Jack Creek. As he approached the bridge -he heard someone say: “Here he comes now.” The voice was not Jim -Rankin’s. - -“Hello,” came a call in yet another voice, just as his horse reached -the bridge. - -“Come on, Roderick,” cried Jim Rankin, “I’m here.” - -“Who’s with you?” inquired Roderick. - -“They’ll tell you,” replied Jim. - -Roderick rode up and found three men with drawn revolvers, and one of -them proved to be the sheriff of the county and the others his deputies. - -“Gentlemen,” said the sheriff, “you are accused of killing a lot -of sheep up here on Jack Creek and burning a couple of wagons, and I -arrest you in the name of the law.” - -“What does this mean?” inquired Roderick, hotly. - -“It means,” said the sheriff, “you fellers will fork over your -shootin’ irons quietly and submit to being handcuffed.” - -“Look here, Mills,” said Rankin, resentfully, “you’re goin’ -too dangnation far, by gunnies. I’ll be responsible for young -Warfield, here. I’ll go his bail. Dangnation, don’t press me any -furder or I’ll git peevish.” - -“Well,” replied Sheriff Mills, hesitatingly, “who will be -responsible for you?” - -“Why, Gosh’lmighty, Mills, we’ve know’d each other fur -twenty-five years. You go my security yourself or by the great horn -spoon you’ll not kerry Rawlins precinct next election.” - -“Watch that young feller,” instructed the sheriff to his deputies. -“Ride over this way, Jim, where we can speak privately.” - -A few moments later Rankin called out: “Come on, Roderick, let’s -be goin’. It’s gettin’ late. Everything’s all right.” And -together they headed their horses for Encampment and rode on in the -darkness. - -Jim Rankin presently said: “Well, by gunnies, Tom Sun has leastways -got to hand it to us fur tryin’.” - -Roderick made no immediate reply and they continued their way in -silence. - -At last Roderick spoke. - -“You were mighty friendly with that white-livered, double-dealing cur, -the sheriff—that’s what you called him a few hours ago.” - -“Yes, but he wasn’t present with a gun in his hand,” replied Jim. -“He sure ‘nuff had the drop on us.” - -“How did you square him then?” - -“Politics,” came the sententious answer. “And I guess I put one -over him at that. Somebody’s goin’ to git a dangnation throw-down, -an’ don’t you forgit it.” - -An hour later they descended at the livery barn. The sky had cleared, -and they had ridden fast under the starlight. Roderick looked the -ex-sheriff squarely in the face. - -“Now, Jim Rankin, the next move in the game is going to be mine. Get -your three fours hitched up at once, and bring them down one by one as -fast as they are ready, to the Major’s. We load that ore tonight, and -start for the railroad before daylight. Do you get me, my friend?” - -Jim Rankin for a moment looked into Roderick’s eyes. - -“I guess I git you, Mr. Warfield,” he replied, as he meekly turned -away toward the stables where the twelve powerful draught horses had -been held in preparedness for a week past. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD - -DAYLIGHT had not yet broken when the three four-horse wagons were loaded -and ready for the road. Not a moment had been lost after Roderick’s -arrival at the Major’s. That night he had had a grim glimpse of what -western lawlessness among the mountains might mean, and had speedily -convinced the Major that his policy of instant departure was the wise -one. Bud Bledsoe and his gang would rest at least one day, perhaps two -or three days, after their devilish exploit with the sheep-herders, and -when they came reconnoitering around the blockhouse in which the ore -was stored it would be to find the rich treasure gone. The teams by -that time would be at Walcott, or at least well on the way to their -destination. - -The little bunch of friends had set to work with a will. Jim Rankin got -the first team down within half an hour, and by that time the Major, Tom -Sun, who had duly turned up from Rawlins, Boney Earnest, Grant Jones and -Roderick had a goodly pile of the one-hundred-pound ore sacks stacked in -front of the house, ready to be lifted into the wagon. Without a hitch -or delay the work proceeded, and now that the loading was completed, and -the rifles and ammunition had been stowed under the drivers’ seats, -the tension of suppressed excitement was relaxed. Pipes were alight -during a final consultation. - -The three tough old westerners, it was settled, were to drive. Boney had -announced his absolute determination to come along—the smelter could -go to blazes, he had applied some days before for a week’s leave -anyways and if W. B. Grady chose to buck because he took it now, well -he could “buck good and plenty, and be damned to him.” Tom Sun was -keeping in stern repression his wrath against the miscreants who had -massacred his sheep and probably killed his herders as well; it would -be stern satisfaction for him to have a fight on the road, to settle -accounts with Bud Bledsoe by the agency of a rifle bullet. Jim Rankin, -after his quiet taking-down by Roderick at the livery stable, had -recovered his accustomed self-assurance and bellicosity, and was -“prognosticating” all manner of valorous deeds once it came to guns -out on both sides and fair shooting. - -While these three would manage the teams, Buell Hampton, Grant and -Roderick would scout ahead on their riding horses, and provide a rear -guard as well so that the alarm of any attempted pursuit could be given. -Badger had been fed and rested, and looked fit for anything despite the -night’s ride to Jack Creek. - -Jumping into the saddle Roderick, accompanied by Grant Jones, who knew -the road well, led the way. The wagons followed, while the Major delayed -just long enough to lock up the house, including the now empty inner -chamber, and clear away the traces of the night’s work. The whole -cavalcade was three or four miles out of Encampment before the sun had -risen and the townsfolk were astir. - -The distance to be traversed was just fifty miles, and that night the -first camp was made beyond Saratoga. No public attention had been drawn -to the wagons; none of the people encountered on the road or at stopping -places had any reason to think that these ordinary looking ore-sacks -held gold that was worth a king’s ransom. There had been no signs of -ambushed robbers ahead nor of pursuit in the rear. But that night, while -a few hours of sleep were snatched, watch was kept in turn, while each -sleeper had his rifle close at hand. With the first glimmer of dawn the -journey was resumed. - -It was well on in the afternoon when the Major spied, some distance out -on the open country to the left, the dust raised by a small party of -horsemen. He rode up to the wagons to consult his friends. He had just -pointed out the sign to Jim Rankin, when the riders disappeared behind a -rocky ridge. - -Jim had been shading his eyes while gazing fixedly. He now dropped his -hand. - -“By gunnies, they are after us right enough,” he exclaimed. “That -was Bud Bledsoe in the lead—I know his ginger-colored pony. They’re -going to cross Pass Creek lower down, then they will swing around into -White Horse Canyon, coming back to meet us after we’ve crossed the -bridge and are on the long steep hill just beyond. Dang me if that -ain’t their game.” - -The Major rode ahead to warn Grant and Roderick. The bridge over Pass -Creek was only three miles from Walcott. If the three scouts could -gain the crest of the steep slope, before the robbers, the advantage of -position would be theirs. - -Roderick grasped the plan of campaign in an instant, and, digging his -spurs into Badger’s flank, galloped off full pelt. Grant and the Major -followed at the best pace of their less mettled ponies. - -It was less than a mile to the bridge, and Badger was soon breasting -the hill at a swinging canter. Just before reaching the summit Roderick -descended, and throwing the bridle over the pony’s head tethered it in -cowboy fashion. “I’ll be back in a minute, old fellow,” he said, -as he gave Badger an affectionate pat on the neck. Then, rifle in hand, -he walked up the remaining few yards of the slope, and cautiously peered -over the crest into White Horse Canyon. - -Great Scott! seven or eight horsemen away down at the foot of the -descending incline were just scrambling out of the waste of cacti -and joshuas on to the roadway! The first comers were waiting for the -stragglers, and a pow-wow was evidently being held. Roderick gripped -the butt of his rifle. But he heard the clatter of hoofs behind him, and -drew back for the time being. Waving a cautioning hand to Buell Hampton -and Grant as they approached, he gave the news in a few words. It -took only a minute to tie all three horses securely to the low-growing -grease-wood that here skirted the road—the animals, although -well-trained, might be stampeded by the shooting. Then, rifles in hand, -Roderick, Grant and the Major crept up to the crest of the ridge. Before -reaching it the sharp tattoo of horse hoofs smote their ears. - -“That’s Bud Bledsoe in the lead on the ginger pony,” exclaimed -Buell Hampton. - -Nothing more was needed by Roderick; if Bud Bledsoe was there, the gang -were lawbreakers and bent on further villainy. - -“Bang!” went Roderick’s rifle; and the ginger-colored horse -plunged forward on his knees, and then rolled over, kicking wildly in -the air. Two horses behind stumbled over the obstruction, and instantly -there was a confused heap of struggling beasts and men. Four other -riders had reined in their steeds just in time, and were standing -stock-still on the highway. - -“Keep it up, but don’t kill,” muttered the Major, just before he -fired his own rifle. Almost at the same instant came “bang” from -Grant’s shoulder, and a second shot by Roderick. - -At this fusillade the four cowboys still mounted jumped their horses -into the sage brush and cacti and were gone like a streak across -country. One of the fallen horses had struggled to its feet, and a -figure leaped into the saddle. It was Bud Bledsoe—Roderick knew him by -his gorilla-like figure. Leaving his two fallen comrades to their -fate, the leader raced after the fleeing quartette. Three rifle bullets -whizzed past him to quicken his pace. Then the marksmen on the ridge -stood erect. - -Two motionless human figures lay on the road at the bottom of the hill; -the ginger horse had rolled in among the bushes in his death throes, the -other was limping along with a broken leg. Roderick ran down the slope -on foot, leaving the others to follow with the horses. - -The first man he reached was dead, his neck broken by the fall. Roderick -recognized him at a glance—for when once riding the range with a bunch -of cowboys they had passed a lone rider on a mountain trail and the name -had been passed around—Butch Cassidy, a horse rustler, and an outlaw -of the hills. The other fellow was bleeding from a wound in his breast; -there was a gulping gurgle in his throat. He had evidently been hit by -Grant’s first bullet, which had been fired too quick for any heed -to be paid to Buell Hampton’s merciful injunction. Just as Roderick -raised the limp hand the wounded man opened his eyes; then he uttered -one great sob and died. - -A few minutes later bullets from Grant’s revolver put the injured -horses out of pain. - -In the dusk of the falling night the dead men were borne on the ore -wagons into Walcott. The station agent recognized the second corpse -as that of a notorious gambler and hold-up artist, an old associate of -Big-Nosed George in early days. The railroad man treated the bodies as -trash, but condescended to wire down the line for the coroner and the -sheriff. The car, which had been ordered several days before, was on -the side track awaiting the ore shippers, and he counselled that there -should be no delay in loading, as a through freight for Denver was due -shortly after midnight. So the fight was forgotten, and the work of -transferring the ore sacks from the wagons was soon in progress, all -present, even the Major, lending a hand. - -After the task had been completed, the bill of lading prepared and all -charges prepaid, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, Tom Sun and Grant Jones -boarded the car. They were well provided with blankets for bedding -and still carried their rifles. Buell Hampton and Roderick remained to -arrange for the sending back of the teams and saddle horses; they would -follow on the morning passenger train, and the whole party would reach -Denver practically at the same hour next night. - -No further incident occurred. But not until the carload of ore had -been duly delivered, sampled, and weighed did the four faithful and -well-armed guards relax their vigilance. The purchasers were the -Globe Smelter Company, with whose manager Boney Earnest had personal -acquaintance. - -While secrecy was exercised concerning this remarkable ore shipment, -yet the news gradually crept out and it became known that something -phenomenal had occurred. The newspaper reporters hovered around the -Globe Smelter endeavoring to pick up a few crumbs of information. - -Buell Hampton and his friends were registered at the Brown Palace Hotel -where they had arranged for connecting rooms. Two days afterwards Buell -Hampton announced to his friends, in the privacy of his room, that the -returns were all he had anticipated. The money had been duly deposited -to his credit, and now he wrote checks running into five figures for -each of his friends, and admonished them separately and collectively to -deposit the money in some Denver bank to their individual credit, then -return to their Encampment homes and each continue his avocation as if -nothing had happened to improve their financial affairs. - -“As for myself,” said the Major, “I have a mission to perform, -and I probably will not return to Encampment for a matter of fifteen or -twenty days.” - -That night Major Hampton left for New York carrying with him certified -checks for a large sum of money, and on the following morning the -others took train for Wyoming. Within a few days all had resumed their -accustomed routine. Jim Rankin was back on his stage coach making his -usual trips; Boney Earnest, after an acrimonious scrap with Grady over -the question of absence without leave, was in his old place before -the blast furnace; Tom Sun regained his home at Split Rock, north of -Rawlins, Grant Jones returned to his editorial duties, Roderick to his -preparations for a prospecting expedition. - -Both Grant and Roderick had brought with them checks for a few thousand -dollars, which they deposited in the local bank to the great surprise of -the cashier. And even before leaving the bank they began to realize -that their importance in the community had already gone up a hundred per -cent. Such is the prompt efficacy of a substantial bank balance! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS - -WITHIN less than a year of his leaving Keokuk to play football with -the world, as Uncle Allen Miller had phrased it, Roderick Warfield had -established himself in a sound financial position. So far he had not -been made the “pig-skin” in life’s game. While he was filled -with grateful feeling toward Buell Hampton, and recognized the noble -generosity of his friend, he had at the same time the satisfaction of -feeling that he had done at least a little toward earning a share in the -proceeds derived from the carload of rich ore. And once he found his -own mine, his father’s mine, it would be his turn to follow the golden -rule and share liberally with those around him. - -When he had handed in the Denver check at the local bank, he had already -found a new deposit to his credit there—a sum of money to which he -had never given a thought from the moment it was won. This was the $450 -coming to him as the World’s Championship prize in the rough-riding -and outlaw-busting competition at the frontier celebration. It was with -intense delight that Roderick decided to apply this windfall to finally -clearing off his New York liabilities. He felt like walking even a bit -more erect than ever now that he would owe not a dollar in the world. -After luncheon he returned to the bank and secured eastern drafts. - -But there was a balance remaining, and Roderick at once thought of the -lad who had not only suffered defeat in the contest but injury as well. -Major Hampton had already undertaken the provision of clothes and other -outfit for Scotty Meisch. Roderick thought for a moment; then he walked -across to the Savings Bank and started an account in the cowboy’s name -with a credit of $100. He carried the little pass-book with him to the -hospital. - -He found Scotty reclining in a long chair on the veranda. The invalid -was convalescent, although looking pale from the unwonted confinement. -His face brightened with joy when Roderick, looking down with a pleasant -smile, patted him on the shoulder and gripped his hand. - -“Gee, but it’s good to see you again,” murmured the boy. “It -seems like a hell of a time since you were here. But I got the postcard -you sent me from Denver.” - -“Yes, Scotty, as I wrote you, Grant Jones and I, also the Major, have -all been to Denver. We were called away unexpectedly or would have paid -you a parting visit. But I’ve come around at once, you see. Grant -Jones and I got back only this afternoon. Mr. Jones is going to take you -over to Dillon next week. Meanwhile I have brought you this little book, -old fellow.” - -Scotty glanced at the pass-book, wonderingly and uncomprehendingly. He -turned it over and over. - -“An’ what’s this piece o’ leather goods for?” he asked. - -“That means you’ve got $100 to your credit in the Savings Bank, -Scotty—the consolation prize, you remember, in the broncho-busting -contest.” - -“Consolation prize be damned. There was no consolation prize.” - -“Oh, yes, there was.” - -“Not by a danged sight You’ve gone an’ done this, Warfield.” - -“Well, I got the big money, and hasn’t the winner the right to give -off a bit of it as a consolation prize? Just stuff that book in your -pocket, Scotty, and may the hundred dollars soon roll up to a thousand, -old fellow.” - -“Great guns, but you’re powerful kind to me—all of you,” -murmured the cowboy. There were tears in his eyes. - -“And by the way, Scotty,” continued Roderick, talking gaily, “that -reminds me, I’ve got to go across to Englehart’s store and take over -that grand championship saddle he was showing in his window—Banker -Buck Henry’s special prize, you remember. I had almost forgotten about -it. Why, it’s mine—stamped leather, solid silver mounts, and all the -gewgaw trimmings. How will I look riding the ranges with that sort of -outfit?” - -“You’ll look just grand,” exclaimed Scotty admiringly. “But you -won’t use that on the range. It will be your courtin’ outfit.” - -Scotty smiled wanly, while Roderick laughed in spite of himself. The -invalid felt emboldened. - -“Oh, she’s been over here every day during your absence,” he -continued. “Gee, but she’s pretty, and she’s kind! And let me tell -you somethin’ else. Barbara’s been a-visitin’ me too. Just think -o’ that.” - -“Ah, all the girls are good, Scotty—and Wyoming girls the best -of all,” he added enthusiastically. There was safety in the general -proposition. - -“Barbara an’ I has made it all up,” continued the lad, still -smiling, wistfully yet happily. “She’s dead stuck on that lawyer -chap, Bragdon, and we shook hands over it. I wished her luck, and -promised to vote for Bragdon at the election for state senator. An’ -what do you think she did when I told her that?” he asked, raising -himself in his chair. - -“She said ‘Bully for you,’ I bet,” replied Roderick. “She did -more. She kissed me—fair and square, she kissed me,” Scotty put -his finger-tips to his forehead. “Oh, only there,” he added, half -regretfully. “But I’ll never forget the touch of her lips, her sweet -breath in my face.” And he patted the spot on his brow in appreciative -reminiscence. - -“That’s politics, as Jim Rankin would say,” laughed Roderick, more -to himself than to the cowboy. - -“Wal, it’s the sort o’ politics I like,” replied Scotty. “If -she’d even only cuff my ears every time I voted, I’d be a repeater -for Bragdon at the polls.” - -“Well, we’ll both vote the Bragdon ticket, Scotty. A girl like -Barbara Shields is worth making happy, all the time. And later on, old -fellow, the proper girl will be coming along for you.” - -“Looks as if she was comin’ along for you right now,” grinned -Scotty, glancing toward the steps of the veranda. - -And a moment later Roderick was shaking hands with another hospital -visitor, gazing into Gail Holden’s blue eyes, and receiving her warm -words of greeting over his safe return. - -“We heard something about a fight near Walcott, you know, Mr. -Warfield—about a mysterious carload of ore. Two hold-up men were -killed, and your name was mentioned in connection with the affair. I -felt quite anxious until Mr. Meisch received his postcard from Denver. -But you never thought of writing to me,” she added, reproachfully. - -“I did not dare,” murmured Roderick in a low tone intended only for -her ears. - -But Scotty heard and Scotty saw. - -“This is the very hour the nurse says I’ve got to sleep,” he said. -“You’d better be clearin’ out, War-field.” - -“And me too?” asked Gail, laughingly. - -“The pair o’ you,” replied the invalid, as he lay back -languorously and closed his eyes. - -“I guess we’d better be going,” laughed Roderick. - -“Perhaps Mr. Meisch is awake enough yet,” said Gail, “to hear that -I brought over a chicken for his supper.” - -“Tell the nurse I’ll have it fried, please,” yawned Scotty, as, -without opening his eyes, he turned over his head in slumberous fashion. - -“Come away then, Miss Holden,” said Roderick. “I suppose you -rode over on Fleetfoot. I’ll saddle Badger, and we’ll have a gallop -across country.” - -“No doggoned politics there,” exclaimed the cowboy, awaking -suddenly, as he watched the handsome couple disappear. “That’s the -real thing, sure.” - -The summer days glided past. The Major had returned from New York and -had quietly resumed his old life of benevolence among the poor. But soon -there seemed to be no more poverty in or around Encampment. Roderick, -keeping the mining town as his headquarters, made a series of -expeditions into the mountains, systematically searching every range -and every known canyon. He would be absent for several days at a time, -sometimes with Jim Rankin for a companion, Grant Jones once or twice -accompanying him, but latterly with Boney Earnest as his fidus Achates. -For Boney had severed his connection finally with the Smelter Company, -after a quarrel with Grady that had ended in the blast furnace foreman -knocking his employer down. Such is the wonderful independence that -comes from a bank balance—even a secret bank balance that may not -command the deference accorded to known financial prosperity. - -Between his prospecting expeditions Roderick spent an occasional evening -either at the Conchshell Ranch or at the Major’s, with a flying call -now and then at the Shields home, especially when Grant was on one of -his periodical visits to Encampment. - -The month was now September. The rugged mountains still guarded their -secret, and Roderick was beginning to fear that the quest for his -father’s mine was indeed going to be a vain one. But there came an -interlude to his range-riding and gold-dreaming. The state conventions -were approaching. Even love became a minor matter to politics. The air -was surcharged with electricity. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR - -AT BREAKFAST table one morning Roderick noticed in the Encampment Herald -a featured article about the forthcoming Republican convention. - -“Oh, yes,” replied Grant, when Roderick called his attention to it, -“this convention trouble has been brewing for some time. Personally, -as you know, I am a Republican, even though my paper, the Dillon -Doublejack, is a dyed-in-the-wool Democratic organ.” - -“What trouble,” asked Roderick, “can there possibly be about a -county convention?” - -“It’s a senatorial convention,” explained Grant. “There is -an old saying,” he went on, “that every dog has his day. But -unfortunately politically speaking there are more dogs than days, -and when two or three contestants try to get in on the same day, why, -somebody is going to get bitten. There is only one state senatorial job -from this district but there may be half-a-dozen fellows who feel called -upon to offer themselves upon the political altar of their country.” - -“Have noticed a good many fellows down from the hills recently,” -replied Roderick. - -“Well, that’s politics,” said Grant. “They take a lay off from -their work in the hills—come down here to fill up on free political -whiskey furnished by the various candidates. Oh, take it from me,” -said Grant, looking wise and shaking his head, “these delegates are a -booze-fighting bunch for fair.” - -For a moment or two the journalistic oracle busied himself with his -toast and butter. - -“You watch the columns of my paper,” he resumed. “I’m going to -show up these whiskey drinking, habits of the delegates good and plenty -in this week’s issue of the Doublejack. In the language of Jim Rankin -I get a heap peevish with all this political foolishness. Still,” -Grant went on, “I presume it is a part of the political machinery -of the frontier. One thing,” he concluded, “we all become unduly -excited in these ante-convention days.” - -Political excitement had indeed waxed warm, and the little mining town -had seemingly ceased to think about its mines, its great smelting plant, -rich strikes in the hills and everything else—even the cattle men and -the sheep men appeared to have forgotten their feuds together with their -flocks and herds in the general excitement over the nomination for state -senator from southern Carbon County. - -Grant Jones in his Doublejack editorials made emphatic and urgent appeal -to the people to remember the doctrines of the old Simon-pure Jacksonian -democracy and agree upon a good Democratic nominee. With a split in the -Republican ranks the chances were never better for the election of a -Democratic senator. He pointed out that if Bragdon won the nomination -the Carlisle clique would secretly knife the Bragdon forces at the -polls by voting the Democratic ticket, and on the other hand if Carlisle -should best Bragdon in the nominating contest then the Bragdon following -would retaliate by supporting the Democratic nominee so as to defeat -Carlisle in the end. - -On the Republican side W. Henry Carlisle, the astute lawyer, was backed -by the smelter interests, while Ben Bragdon, the eloquent, was supported -by the antismelter forces generally and also by Earle Clemens, editor of -the Encampment Herald, one of the best known and most highly respected -party leaders in the state. - -The so-called smelter interests were certainly discredited because of -the domineering insolence of W. B. Grady and his unfair treatment of -the men. Not only did Grady practice every sort of injustice upon the -employees of the great smelting plant in all its various departments, -but he also quarreled with the ranchmen in the valley whenever he had -dealings with them even to the extent of buying a load of hay. - -As convention day approached there was a noticeable feeling of unrest -and nervousness. Factional strife was running at high tension. - -The wise men of the party said they could plainly see that unless -harmony in the Republican ranks obtained at the convention the nominee -would be defeated at the polls, and that if Ben Bragdon’s nomination -were insisted upon by his friends without in some way conciliating the -Carlisle faction the Democrats would be almost certain to win at the -following November’s elections. - -It was pretty generally conceded that Ben Bragdon, controlled the -numerical strength of the delegates, but the wiseacres would ask in -their solicitude: “Is it wisdom to take such a chance? Does it not -invite a split in the ranks of our party? In other words, does it not -mean defeat for the Republican candidate on election day?” - -Carlisle was a power to be reckoned with, and had a clannish, determined -following in political affairs, and although he and his friends might -be outnumbered and beaten in the nominating convention, yet what would -follow if Bragdon’s nomination were forced upon them? What would be -the result? Would not Carlisle’s following secretly slash the rival -they had been unable to defeat at the nominating convention? - -A “dark horse” seemingly was the only way out of the dilemma, and -the more conservative delegates insisted that Bragdon and his friends -must be brought to understand and recognize the possibilities of almost -certain defeat unless harmony could be insured; otherwise Bragdon must -be compelled to withdraw. - -Early in the morning before the day named for the senatorial convention -to assemble at Rawlins the delegates at Encampment and several hundred -friends of the respective candidates started overland for the convention -city. - -There were two roads from Encampment to Rawlins—one that branched off -from the so-called main road and went along the Platte River bottom. -The distance by either route was about sixty miles. Carlisle and his -following went one road, while Bragdon and his following traveled by the -other road, both arriving at the hotel in Rawlins at the same time with -panting horses. It was a mad race, each faction trying to show supremacy -over the other even at the cost of horseflesh. - -The delegates gathered in knots of three and four in the lobby of the -hotel, in the barroom and in the private rooms during the afternoon and -evening before convention day. - -The trains had arrived from the East and the West, and the delegates -from all over the senatorial district were present and ready for the -fray that was certain to come off the following day—indeed, Rawlins, -the county seat, was alive with politicians and the Ferris House, the -leading hotel of the place, was a beehive of activity. The Democratic -spectators were jubilant and made their headquarters at Wren’s saloon. - -It was at the Ferris House that W. Henry Carlisle had opened his -headquarters in opposition to Ben Bragdon. The Carlisle people said -they had no alternative candidate. Any one of a score of men might be -named in the district, each of whom would be satisfactory; in fact, -anyone excepting Ben Bragdon, provided, of course, it was found that -Carlisle could not be nominated, which they were far from conceding. - -Bragdon and Carlisle had often before locked horns in hotly contested -lawsuits up in the-hills, but in addition to their legal fights for -supremacy there had been one special controversy that had resulted in -a big financial loss for which each held the other responsible. It -involved a bitter fight over a mining claim wherein both Bragdon and -Carlisle had financial interests, and both had finally lost. It was a -rich property and had by decree of the courts been awarded to a third -party. But the decision did not lessen the feud. The impelling motive in -their political contest was not half so much, perhaps, for the honor of -being state senator as it was a consuming desire in the heart of each to -best and lick the other. - -Some of the delegates, even those who were inclined to be friendly to -Bragdon’s candidacy, acknowledged that seemingly he had made no effort -to pacify either Carlisle or his friends, and thus, in a way, had proven -himself deficient as a political leader and standard-bearer for the -party. - -Others claimed that a reconciliation was impossible, that the breach was -entirely too wide to be patched up at the eleventh hour. Still others -were of the opinion that if the Bragdon forces would concede the -chairmanship of the convention to Carlisle and his friends and thus -give substantial evidence of a desire to harmonize and be friendly, past -differences could be adjusted, with the result not only of Bragdon’s -nomination but his election as well. - -Those high in the leadership of the Bragdon forces laughed incredulously -and scorned to consider such a compromising surrender, and further -expressed their disbelief in the sincerity of Carlisle and his crowd -even if the Bragdon following were willing to make such a concession. - -“No,” said Big Phil Lee, Bragdon’s chief lieutenant, “I’m a -Kentucky Democrat, boys, as you all know, but in this fight I’m for -Bragdon—a Bragdon Republican—and we’ve got the whip-hand and by -the Eternal we will hold it. We Bragdon fellows have already agreed -upon a chairman and a secretary for both the temporary and permanent -organizations of tomorrow’s convention, and we have selected Charlie -Winter to name Bragdon in a nominating speech that will be so dangnation -eloquent—well, it will simply carry everybody off their feet. He is the -boy that can talk, you bet he is. Oh, you bet we’ve got ‘em licked, -Carlisle and all his cohorts. And let me tell you something else,” -continued Big Phil Lee, gesticulating, “we’ll hold them responsible -for the final result. If Brag-don’s not elected, it will be because -Carlisle and his gang knife him at the polls. Just let them do such a -dirty contemptible piece of political chicanery and they’ll be marked -men ever afterwards in this senatorial district, and not one of them -could be elected even to the office of dog pelter.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY - -IT WAS just such talk as Big Phil Lee’s that kept the Bragdon forces -lined up and defiant to the point of an open rupture and a total -disregard for the minority, while the Democrats cheered Big Phil Lee’s -remarks with enthusiastic hoorays. - -The individual who really held the destiny of the party that year in -the hollow of his hand and within the next few hours proved himself the -Moses to lead all factions from the paths of bickering into the highway -of absolute harmony, was the newspaper man, Earle Clemens. All through -the evening hours the editor of the Herald had been a most eloquent -listener. He was on good terms with everybody, jovial and mixed with -all factions, and yet was scrupulously careful to avoid giving any -expression of advice or stating an opinion. He had, however, been very -outspoken in his editorial advocacy for harmony. - -Earle Clemens was not only known and respected all over the state as an -able newspaper man, but he was the possessor of a rich tenor voice that -had delighted many an audience up in the hills, and then, too, he had -composed the melody of the state song, entitled “Wyoming”—all of -which tended to his great popularity and powerful influence. - -While it was quite generally known that Clemens was perhaps closer in -his friendship for Bragdon than any other man in the district, dating -from way back when the generous-hearted young lawyer had helped Clemens -at a time and in a way that money could not buy or repay, yet the -editor of the Herald had all along insisted that unless the Bragdon -sympathizers effected a reconciliation with the Carlisle crowd, -it virtually meant, if Bragdon’s nomination were forced upon the -convention, a Democratic victory at the coming November election. - -In his last editorial, before the convention was to assemble, he had, -in reply to Democratic newspaper gibes about a high old row which was -likely to obtain at the oncoming Republican convention, branded the -writers one and all as political falsifiers. He boldly announced that -not a single discordant note would be heard when the Republican host -came to nominate its standard bearer, and furthermore that the choice -would be emphasized by a unanimous vote of the delegates. And in the -final event the Republican candidate, he declared, would be elected -by such an overwhelming popular vote that it would make the false -Democratic prophets and bolting Republican malcontents, if there were -any, “hunt the tall timber.” - -The Democratic press in reply had said that the editor of the Herald was -whistling to keep up his courage, and of course much amusement had been -caused by the spirited controversy. So when the eventful day arrived -fully as many Democrats journeyed to Rawlins to see the fun as there -were Republican delegates. Of course, as good Democrats, they lost -no opportunity to help embitter the two factions and widen the breach -between the Bragdon and the Carlisle forces. - -Editor Earle Clemens, however, had ideas of his own that he told to no -one. The electric light was shining in his room long after midnight and -his small hand typewriter, which he always carried in his grip, was busy -clicking away—presumably writing copy for the columns of his paper. -What really occurred however, was this: He wrote two letters on the -hotel stationery—one addressed to Hon. Ben Bragdon, and the other -addressed to Hon. W. Henry Carlisle, and the envelopes were marked -private. - -After the letters were duly typewritten, he placed an electric light -under a pane of glass with which he had provided himself, elevating -the glass by supporting the ends with a couple of books, and then from -letters that he had at some former time received from both aspirants -cleverly traced and signed the signature of W. Henry Carlisle to one -letter and in like manner signed the signature of Ben Bragdon to the -other letter—yes, brazen forgeries. - -After inclosing them in their respective envelopes, he stole softly out -into the hallway and slipped one under the door of Carlisle’s room and -the other under the door of Bragdon’s room. Then he went downstairs -and bribed the night clerk to call both Bragdon and Carlisle at sharp -fifteen minutes before six o’clock. This done, Clemens hastened back -to his own apartment for a few hours’ sleep, wondering as he disrobed -if the “end would justify the means.” - -“There is no question,” he said to himself as he climbed into the -bed, “but that the Republican ox is in the ditch and heroic measures -are necessary.” - -The following morning, when W. Henry Carlisle was awakened by the night -clerk calling out softly the hour of seven o’clock, he hastily arose -and began dressing, but before he had half finished he spied the letter -that had been pushed under his door. Picking it up, he broke the seal -and this is what he read: - -“My dear Carlisle:— - -“It probably requires more bravery to make an apology and to ask to be -forgiven than it does to settle differences between gentlemen by the now -antiquated ‘code.’ - -“I here and now tender my apologies for any unkind words I may in the -past have spoken derogatory to you, and as an evidence of my candor -will pledge you the support of myself and friends for both temporary and -permanent chairman at tomorrow’s convention, if you reciprocate this -offer of a reconciliation. - -“If you are big enough and broad enough and generous enough to accept -this overture and desire to bury all past differences and from now on -work in harmony together, each helping the other, as did Jonathan and -David of old, why, the opportunity is offered, and we will let bygones -be bygones. - -“If you accept this apology, meet me at the hotel bar early tomorrow -morning and merely extend your hand of friendship in greeting. I will -understand; but please do not humiliate me by mentioning the fact, even -to your best friends, that I have written this letter, and above all do -not refer to it at our meeting tomorrow morning or at any future time. -It is quite enough if these old differences are wiped off the slate -between you and myself without commenting, or permitting comments to be -made. I am not unmindful, Carlisle, that you are a great big able man -and I want you to be my friend, and I wish to be yours. You have the -power to make my nomination for state senator unanimous. - -“I have the honor of subscribing myself - -“Very sincerely yours, - -“Ben Bragdon.” - -Across the hall Ben Bragdon was also reading a letter, which was almost -a duplicate of the one that Carlisle was perusing, except that the -conditions were reversed. Carlisle, in his letter of apology, offered to -support Bragdon for the nomination, provided the hatchet was buried -and the Bragdon forces would support him for temporary and permanent -chairman. - -At the conclusion of the reading of these respective letters, each wore -an exultant look of mastery on his face. For the time being at least all -other differences were forgotten. In the hearts of both was the thought: -“It’s mighty decent of him; he really is a bigger man than I -thought.” - -Carlisle was the first man to leave his room and going quickly -downstairs passed hurriedly into the hotel bar, which at that early hour -was deserted except for the immaculate, white-aproned bartender. - -“What will it be this morning, Mr. Carlisle?” was the respectful -inquiry of the attendant. - -“Nothing just yet,” replied Carlisle, “I am waiting for a -friend.” - -A moment later Ben Bragdon came in, whereupon both of these skillful -politicians vied in meeting each other more than half-way and extending -the right hand of good fellowship in kindliest greetings. - -“Guess we’re a little early,” stammered Bragdon in a futile -attempt to appear at ease and free from embarrassment. They both laughed -a little, and Carlisle remarked that fortunately the bartender was at -his post even if the delegates were slow about getting started on the -day’s work. - -Just then the night clerk appeared and apologized for calling them so -early. “Don’t know how it happened,” he stammered, “but I made -a mistake of an hour. I called you gentlemen at six instead of seven. I -hope you’ll not—” - -“Oh, that’s all right,” exclaimed Bragdon and Carlisle in unison, -as they good-naturedly waved him aside with their assurance that they -were glad to be up and about. - -“A couple of Martini cocktails,” said Bragdon to the attendant. -The cocktails were soon before them and tossed off in a jiffy, with the -mutual salutation of “Here’s how.” - -“Come again, my man; make it half a dozen this time—three apiece,” -said Carlisle, laughing and throwing down a twenty dollar gold piece. -“Might as well have a good appetizer while we’re about it, and then -we’ll relish our breakfast, good or bad.” - -They chatted about the weather while the cocktails were being prepared. -Finally the cocktails were pushed along the bar counter, three in front -of each. - -“All right,” said Bragdon, as they each lifted a glass. “Here’s -to your good health!” - -“Thanks,” said Carlisle, “but since we have three cocktails apiece -before us, suppose we drink to the past, the present, and the future!” - -“Good!” replied Bragdon, beaming with approval. “Splendid idea -and happily put” He then ordered some of the highest priced cigars the -house afforded and insisted on Carlisle filling his pockets, while he -stowed away a goodly number himself. - -Soon after the fourth cocktail disappeared, they started for the -dining-room arm in arm, chatting away to one another like two old -cronies who had just met after a long separation. They found seats at a -table in a far corner and in their eagerness to say the right thing to -one another took no notice that a few of the delegates were already at -tables in different parts of the room. The delegates laid down their -knives and forks and looked toward Bragdon and Carlisle in astonishment. -Then they whispered among themselves, whereupon four or five left the -room quietly and hastened with all speed to carry word to the other -delegates, most of whom were still in their apartments. - -The news spread like wildfire, and a general scramble followed in -hurriedly dressing and rushing downstairs to witness with their own eyes -such an unexpected turn in political affairs between two men who had -been at daggers drawn. - -Within a very short time the dining-room was well filled with delegates, -but neither Bragdon nor Carlisle paid any attention; nor were they -seemingly conscious that all eyes were turned upon them. Each was -felicitating himself on the turn of events. Then, too, their amiability, -as well as their appetites, had no doubt been whetted into keenest -activity by the cocktails. - -Ben Bragdon, after breakfast, gave orders that the Hon. W. Henry -Carlisle was to be made both temporary and permanent chairman, and -Carlisle likewise announced that the Hon. Ben Bragdon was to be -nominated as senatorial candidate by acclamation; and each issued his -instructions in such a matter-of-fact, yet stubbornly blunt fashion, -that no one offered any objection or asked any questions. - -The delegates looked at each other, nudged one another in the ribs -and indulged in many a sly wink of suppressed amusement. But they all -quickly recognized the political advantage insured by a coalition of the -Bragdon and Carlisle forces, and the utter dismay this would cause in -the camp of the Democrats. Therefore they all became “programme” men -and took their orders meekly. So when the convention finally met and -got down to business with Carlisle presiding, it at once proceeded to -nominate Ben Bragdon by a unanimous vote. - -Seemingly everybody cheered on the slightest provocation and everybody -was in excellent good nature, and after the convention had completed -its labors and adjourned, it was conceded to have been one of the most -harmonious political gatherings ever held in the state. Thus was the -prediction of Earle Clemens, the newspaper scribe, fulfilled to the very -letter. - -The convention over, the delegates drifted back to the Ferris House and -not long after Big Phil Lee called at Clemens’ room. The editor was -picking away at his typewriter, preparing a report for the columns of -his paper. Grant Jones, Roderick Warfield, and two or three others were -in the room, smoking and talking. But Clemens paid no attention, so -intent was he on his work. Big Phil Lee, who without doubt had been -Bragdon’s loudest shouter, said: “Say, Clemens, I compliment you -on your prophetic editorials. I reckon you are writing another one. -You said the convention would be harmonious, and how in the demnition -bow-wows your prophecy happened to come true nobody knows. But it -did.” - -“Thanks,” replied Clemens, in his light-hearted jovial way, and then -looking out of the window for a moment, added: “I say, Lee, don’t it -beat hell what a little clever horse sense will accomplish at times in a -political convention?” - -“What do you mean by that?” asked Big Phil, quickly. “You seem to -be posted. By gad! I think it’s high time I was taken into the inner -councils myself and had the seemingly inexplainable made clear to me.” - -“Search me,” replied Clemens in a subdued voice, as he bit the tip -of another cigar and struck a match. “Neither Bragdon nor Carlisle has -invited me into any of their secret conferences.” - -Big Phil Lee looked a bit incredulous, shook his head in a nonplussed -sort of way and said: “Well, so long, boys. I’m goin’ down to the -hotel parlor where Bragdon is holding his reception. They are falling -over one another congratulating Carlisle about as much as they are -Bragdon.” - -As the door closed behind him, Clemens looked up from his typewriter and -said to Grant Jones, laughingly: “Say, Grant, remember what the Good -Book says?” - -“Says lots of things—what do you refer to?” asked Grant - -Clemens replied: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” - -Grant Jones came over close to him and said: “Look here, Clemens.” -And he fixed him with his eyes as if searching for an answer to that -which was veiled in mystery. But Clemens stood the ordeal and presently -Jones burst out laughing: “It’s all right, Clemens, the Herald has -sure put one over on the Doublejack this time. I don’t know how it -was done, and maybe I never will know. But take it from me, it was -clever—damned clever!” - -Clemens made no reply, but removing his cigar winked at Roderick -Warfield who was sitting near, puffed rings of smoke toward the ceiling -and afterwards whistled softly the air of “Wyoming,” the state -song, even while he smiled the smile of a knowledge that surpasses -understanding. - -Delegates and sightseers, Republicans and Democrats, who had journeyed -to see a hotly contested nomination, ostensibly for the state senate but -really for political supremacy, were good-natured and jovial when they -started on the return trip. Big Phil Lee shouted to Earle Gemens who was -on the other stage and said: “We are such a happy family, I presume we -will return on the same road instead of dividing and horse racing.” - -Clemens and the other returning passengers on the hurricane deck laughed -good-naturedly and said: “Sure, we will stick together from now on -and fight the Democrats.” Presently the crowd commenced -singing vigorously—if a bunch of discordant voices could be so -described—various popular airs of the day. - -That evening a reception was given Ben Bragdon at the hotel Bonhomme in -Encampment, and the affair was presided over by W. Henry Carlisle. It -was interpreted that the breach between these two attorneys had been -effectually healed to the discomfiture of the Democrats. But no one save -and except Earle Clemens knew how it had been brought about. - -Roderick Warfield slipped away early from the scene of jubilation, and -carried the glorious news to the Shields’ ranch that Ben Bragdon had -been unanimously nominated. Barbara, with the flush of radiant joy -on her face, could no longer deny the soft impeachment, and he boldly -congratulated her on her coming wedding to the senator-elect for -southern Wyoming. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY - -THE following evening Roderick called at the Major’s home, and found a -visitor there, a stranger yet very well known to him by reputation. This -was no other than the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the travelling -parson, of whose fame as a doer of good deeds at the cost of complete -self-sacrifice and self-denial, Roderick had often heard. - -“Delighted to see you, Roderick,” said the Major. “Come right in. -You know, of course, the most noted man in the camp—the man with the -saddle bags. What? Never met yet? Well, it is a great pleasure to me to -make you two acquainted.” - -After cordial greetings had been exchanged Major Hampton continued: -“We have just been discussing some of the great problems of humanity. -Pardon me, my dear friend, but I wish to say to Mr. Warfield that if I -were called upon today to name the greatest humanitarian with whom I am -acquainted I certainly should say—the Reverend Stephen Grannon.” - -“You do me too much honor,” interposed the parson hastily. “You -compliment me far too highly.” Major Hampton went on as if the -Reverend Stephen Grannon had made no interruption: “The school of -humanitarianism is small in number, but the combined results of their -labors directed through the channels of service in the behalf of -humanity bear the stamp of greatness. The sincere lover of his fellows -recognizes that the poor of this world have borne and are still bearing -the burdens of the race. The poor have built all the monuments along -the world’s highway of civilization. They have produced all the wealth -from the hills and from the soil The poor of the world have endured the -hardships of conquering the wilds and erecting outposts on the border -of civilization. Indeed they conquer everything except the fetters that -bind them and hold them as an asset of great corporate power that is -heartless and soulless and indifferent to the privations and sufferings -of the individual.” - -The Reverend Stephen Grannon gave it as his view that the mission of -a humanitarian was not to hinder the world’s progress, nor even to -prejudice anyone against the fortune gathering of the rich, but rather -to dispell the darkness of injustice and assist the great army of the -impoverished to a better understanding of their rights as well as their -powers to conquer the evils that have throughout the ages crept into and -clung to our civilization. - -“Poverty,” he remarked, “is the cause of much misery and often the -impelling motive to immorality and crime in many forms. Men often sell -and barter their votes and birthrights in this free country to bribe -givers—wily politicians—while our girls are not infrequently lured -into selling their very souls for ribbons and the gaudiness and shams of -the world.” - -“What is the cure?” asked Roderick, greatly interested. - -“The cure,” responded the preacher, “is the regeneration of -mankind through the leavening and uplifting power of the principles -taught by the humble humanitarian of Galilee, the great prince of -righteousness.” - -“Yes,” chimed in Major Hampton, “the Reverend Stephen Grannon has -given you the solution for the problem. Add to this a higher education. -The more highly educated the individual,” continued the Major, “the -greater the crime if they break the law.” - -“But,” said Roderick, “this is a free country and we have free -schools. Why do not the poor have a better education?” - -Reverend Grannon turned quickly to Roderick and replied: “You come -with me to the twenty-odd mining camps, Mr. Warfield, surrounding this -town of Encampment—come with me up in the hills where there are no -schools—see the little children growing up in carelessness because of -the impossibility on the part of their fathers and mothers to provide -them with school privileges. In the school room the teacher becomes the -overseer not alone of their studies but of their morals as well. Let -me take you down in the mines,” he continued, speaking with great -earnestness, “and see the boys from twelve years to twenty-one years -working day after day, many of them never having had school privileges -and therefore unable to read or write.” - -He paused for just a moment, then resumed: “It brings to my mind what -a very wise man once wrote. It was King Solomon, and among many other -splendid truths he said: ‘The rich man’s wealth is his strong city; -the destruction of the poor is their poverty.’” - -“Roderick,” said the Major as he lit his meerschaum and blew the -smoke towards the ceiling, “my heart is very light tonight, for I have -arranged with the assistance of the Reverend Stephen Grannon to help -relieve this lamentable situation in those mining camps up in the -mountains away from school privileges. I have recently taken the -matter up with the county commissioners and have agreed to build twenty -schoolhouses. Each schoolhouse will consist of two rooms. One will be -for the smaller children during the day and also to serve as a night -school for the young men and young women who are employed in manual -labor during working hours. The other room is a library sufficiently -large and spacious to accommodate the young men of each mining -community and thus keep them away from saloons, brothels, and prize ring -attractions. One hour each evening will be taken up by a reader and a -regular course of entertaining books will be read aloud in a serial way. -The books in the library will be loaned out on tickets and the usual -library rules observed.” - -“Splendid,” said Roderick, “that sounds practical to me.” - -“It is practical,” said the Reverend Stephen Grannon, “and thanks -to Major Buell Hampton this plan which I have cherished for so many -years will soon be put into effect.” - -Looking at his watch he turned to the Major and said: “By the way, -Major, I have a couple of poor families to visit tonight. I have -promised them, and they will be disappointed if I do not come.” He -arose as he said this. - -“My good friend,” replied Buell Hampton, “I am sorry you cannot -remain longer with us, but I would not keep you from your duties.” - -The Reverend Stephen Grannon put on his top coat, as the evenings were -growing chilly, and after shaking hands took his departure. - -When he was gone and the door closed, Major Hampton turned to Roderick -and holding up one hand said reverently: “Of such is the kingdom of -heaven. In all my lifetime, Roderick, I have never known another such -splendid character. I have closely observed his work ever since I came -to this camp. Perhaps in his entire lifetime he has not collected fifty -dollars in money. He says he does not want money.” - -“But he must have money to live on.” - -“Above all money considerations,” said the Major, looking into the -darkened corner of his living room, “he wants to save souls here -on this earth so that he will have more jewels in his crown over -yonder—these are his own words. There is not a family in the -surrounding country that he is not acquainted with. If there is sickness -he is the first one there. Where the greatest poverty abounds you will -find him. He goes out and solicits alms for those in distress, but keeps -nothing for himself excepting the frailest living. Go through the valley -or up in the mountain gorges or still farther up in the mining camps -where the snow never melts from the shady side of the log cabins, and -you will find this noble character, Reverend Stephen Grannon, doing his -good work for the poor—ministering to their wants and endeavoring -to lift humanity into higher walks, physically, morally, and -spiritually.” - -“I am glad you have told me all this,” replied Roderick. “It -increases my already high opinion of the parson.” - -“He is a veritable shepherd among the people,” continued Major -Hampton. “Reverend Grannon is the true flockmaster of Wyoming. The -people are frequently unruly, boisterous, intemperate and immoral, yet -he treats them with greatest consideration and seeks to persuade and -lead them away from their sins and transgressions. Yes, he is a great -flockmaster—he is well named The Flockmaster.” - -Both were silent for a few moments. Then the Major, as if suddenly -remembering something, looked up and said: “He tells me Scotty Meisch -is getting along fine over in the Dillon Doublejack printing office.” - -“I am glad to hear that,” exclaimed Roderick. “It is good to -have saved at least one lad from going the way of those outlaws of -Jack Creek. I have never forgotten that ghastly midnight scene—the -massacred sheep and the burning herders’ wagons.” - -“Well, what can you expect?” asked the Major. “When the social -waters are poisoned at the fountain head, the whole course of the stream -becomes pernicious. In this state of Wyoming the standard of political -decency is not high. The people have no real leaders to look up to. The -United States Senator, F. E. Greed, sets a pernicious example to the -rising generation. He violates laws in scores of instances because of -his greed and grafting proclivities, and his bribed supporters go -on year after year supporting him. What the state needs is a leader. -High-minded leaders are priceless. Their thoughts and their deeds are -the richest legacy to a state or a community. Great leaders are beacon -lights kindled upon the mountain peaks of the centuries, illuminating -the mental and moral atmosphere of civilization. The history of the -world—of a nation, of a state and of a community—is the story of -their epochal deeds, while man’s advancement is only the lengthened -shadow of their moral, spiritual and temporal examples. Leaders come up -from the crowd, from among the poor and the lowly. They are immediately -recognized by the great mass of the people and invariably crowned, -although sometimes it is a crown of thorns that they are compelled to -wear and endure for upholding priceless principles in their endeavor to -lead humanity to a higher plane. However,” concluded the Major, -“the world is growing better. The nimble-fingered, tilltapping, -porch-climbing derelicts in politics and commercialism are becoming -unpopular. The reprehensible methods in all avenues of life are being -condemned instead of condoned—the goats are being cast out from among -the sheep.” - -“You interest me very much, Major,” said Roderick. “Your ideals -are so high, your aims so decent and right, that it is a pleasure to -hear you talk. I am a firm believer,” Roderick went on, “in the -justice of the doctrine that all men are created free and equal.” - -“It is a sad commentary,” replied Major Hampton, “in this land -where liberty is cherished and our Government corner-stoned upon the -theory that all men are free and equal, that even the soberest of us are -compelled, my dear Roderick, to regard such affirmations as blasphemous. -To illustrate: An employee in one of the big manufacturing combinations -committed a burglary—almost petty larceny in its smallness—another -case of Jean Valjean stealing bread for his children—and yet he was -tried before an alleged court of justice and sent to the penitentiary -for ten years. The head of the same institution pillaged multiplied -millions from the poor in unjust and lawless extortions. When he was -caught red-handed in his lawbreaking, instead of sharing a prison cell -with the poor man our courts indulgently permitted this great highwayman -six months’ time in which to reorganize and have legalized his methods -of stealing.” - -“Such rank injustice,” exclaimed Roderick, “makes my blood tingle -with indignation. It is surely high time a determined crusade was led -against the privileged classes.” - -The Major made no reply but after a little, looking up from the open -grate and turning to Roderick, he asked him if he was aware that the -next day was the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Encampment -Mine and Smelting Company. - -“Oh, is it?” said Roderick. “Some time ago I noticed something in -the newspapers about the meeting, but as it was of no particular moment -to me I had forgotten it.” - -“Yes,” said Major Hampton, “and I guess I will now tell you that I -have been holding a secret from you.” - -“That so?” exclaimed Roderick questioningly. - -“You will remember,” the Major went on, “that I left you in Denver -after we made the big ore shipment and that I was away for three or four -weeks. Well, I went to New York, employed two or three big brokers down -on Wall Street, and commenced buying Encampment Mine and Smelter -Company stock on the exchange. Working jointly with a new friend I have -discovered, a professional man of finance yet a true friend of humanity, -I have absolute control of the stock today.” - -“You have?” exclaimed Roderick. “You own a control of the stock in -this great smelter and the Ferris-Haggerty mine?” - -“Yes, the whole enterprise is virtually in our ownership. Well, -something is going to happen tomorrow at the stockholders’ meeting -which I fear will not be pleasant to certain individuals. But duty -compels me to pursue a course I have mapped out. My chosen work in life -is to serve the poor, yet in trying to fulfill this mission I harbor no -resentful thoughts against the rich as a class nor do I intend for them -any unfair treatment.” - -“If the people only knew,” remarked Roderick, softly, “you are -without doubt one of the richest men in this part of the country and yet -you so honestly prefer the simple life.” - -“There are two kinds of rich people,” continued the Major. “One -class is arrogant and unfeeling; they hoard money by fair means or foul -for money’s sake and for the power it brings. The other class use -their wealth not to oppress but to relieve the worthy poor. Personally, -Warfield, I do not regard the money which accident has made mine as -being in any sense a personal possession. Rather do I hold it as a trust -fund. Of course I am grateful. The money enlarges my opportunity to do -things for my fellows that I wish to do.” - -The Major paused a moment, then resumed: “Do you remember, Roderick, -when I first told you, Jim Rankin and the others about my hidden mine -that I said there were six men in the world whom I held in highest -esteem?” - -“I remember well,” assented Roderick. - -“Well, five of you were present then—Tom Sun, Boney Earnest, -and Grant Jones, with yourself and Jim. For the absent sixth one I -specifically reserved a share in my prosperity, although at the time -I withheld his name. Now you know it He is the one entitled to most -consideration among us all—the Reverend Stephen Grannon.” - -“Of course he is,” concurred Roderick, with hearty conviction. “He -can do more good in the world than all the rest of us together, yourself -excepted, Major.” - -“At present, perhaps,” said Buell Hampton. “But let his shining -example be an incentive to you all—to us all. Well, in a confidential -way, I will tell you, Roderick, that when in New York I also purchased a -large block of bonds that yields an income of something like $20,000 per -year. This income I have legally turned over with proper writings to the -Reverend Stephen Grannon, and already I think you will discover a vast -improvement in the mining camps and throughout the valleys among the -poor. For Stephen Grannon is a godly man and a true humanitarian.” - -“My word, but that’s great—that’s grand!” murmured Roderick -with deep enthusiasm. And he gazed at Buell Hampton’s noble soul-lit -face admiringly. - -The Major rose to his feet—his usual method of intimating that he -wished to be alone. Roderick grasped his hand, and would have spoken -further, but Buell Hampton interrupted him. - -“Say no more, my dear boy. I am glad that you have been interested -in what I had to say tonight. The veil was lifted and you saw me as I -am—anxious to be of benefit to my fellows. I shall indeed be proud if -you find these doctrines not merely acceptable to yourself, but in some -degree at least stimulative in your acts toward the worthy poor and -lowly as the years come and go.” - -As Roderick walked slowly along the street deep in thought over Buell -Hampton’s words, he came suddenly upon W. B. Grady and several well -dressed strangers at a street corner. The visitors, he surmised, were -eastern directors of the big smelting company who had come to Encampment -for the stockholders’ meeting on the morrow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS - -THE next morning at ten o’clock, Major Buell - -Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of -the directors’ room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a -bold front Grady looked careworn and anxious. - -“Hold on there,” he said as the Major started to enter. “What do -you want?” He spoke roughly. “This is a meeting of some gentlemen -who are interested in the Smelter.” - -“Very well,” said the Major. “I came down to attend the -stockholders’ meeting.” - -“Well, you can’t go in,” said Grady. “Stockholders’ meetings -of this company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and gossip -for onlookers like a justice of the peace court.” - -“That may all be true—I hope it is true, Mr. Grady,” said the -Major, and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of anger -depicted on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical -inspection. - -“I am here strictly on business,” continued Buell Hampton. “I am a -stockholder.” - -“You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?” - -“I have that honor,” replied the Major, tersely. “Or at least I -hold powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in your -company.” - -An ashen grey crept into Grady’s face. - -“What do you mean?” he faltered. “You are not a shareholder of -record on our books.” - -“No, but you will find as shareholders of record the names of Charles -T. Brown, George Edward Reed, Herbert Levy, Daniel W. Higbee, and a few -others about whom I need not bother.” - -A new light broke over Grady. He looked more sickly than ever. - -“These are recent purchasers of stock,” he said, “in New York and -also, if I remember rightly, in Iowa.” - -“Precisely, and together these buyers now hold the controlling -interest in your company. Here are the legal documents constituting -me the attorney for all these men.” He drew a neat little packet of -papers from the breast pocket of his coat. “In other words I am -these men—I hold the controlling power, although I did not choose to -disclose the fact until this morning. Now, will you please let me pass? -Thank you.” - -If a pistol had been thrust against the ribs of W. B. Grady, he could -not have looked more utterly scared. He had stepped aside to let the -Major pass and now bluff and bluster changed swiftly to sycophancy. - -“All right, Major Hampton,” he said, in his most ingratiating -manner. “Walk right in and let me introduce you to some of the other -stockholders. Of course, only a few of them are here.” - -The Major followed him into the directors’ room and was duly -presented. - -“This,” said Grady with patronizing suavity, “is an old fellow -townsman of ours here in Encampment and a friend of mine. Here, Major, -take this chair,” insisted Grady. “You see we are all a happy family -together.” - -Major Hampton could not but contrast the fawning manner of the general -manager before his superiors, the directors of the Company, with his -notoriously overbearing and insolent treatment of the workingmen. - -“Well,” said the chairman, “fortunately we have a very good -manager.” - -“Thank you,” said Grady with increased affability. - -“For myself, I am pleased and delighted at the general manager’s -report which I presume it will be in order now to have read. I think we -have all seen it in advance.” - -The Major shook his head in dissent but made no comment. - -Thereupon the meeting was called to order, and after the preliminaries -were concluded Mr. W. B. Grady proceeded to read a rather brief but very -interesting annual report. - -His report was not only a business summary of a most successful fiscal -year, but also abounded with more or less veiled laudations of himself -in his capacity of manager. - -Attorney Wm. Henry Carlisle, who combined with his legal position a seat -on the board of directors, advised that the election of a directorate -for the ensuing year was in order. By this time it was known to the -other shareholders present that Major Buell Hampton owned or represented -a control of the stock. This rather upset the cut-and-dried program. - -W. B. Grady, addressing the chairman, said that he presumed Major -Buell Hampton would appreciate being elected a member of the board of -directors, and if the Company’s attorney, Mr. Carlisle, did not object -perhaps it would be well for him to vacate his seat so as to make room -for the new incumbent. - -Carlisle’s face grew very red at this attempted slight but he said -nothing. - -Major Buell Hampton arose, and addressing the chairman said: “Since I -have acquired control of the stock of this Company, I have decided that -Mr. Grady shall not be re-elected as a director. But in the first place -I wish to ask of all stockholders present what their intentions are -regarding the declaring of a dividend?” - -With this he resumed his seat. - -By every lineament on Grady’s face one could see that he was furious. - -“I presume,” said the chairman, “that it would be proper to follow -the suggestion of Mr. Grady, our general manager, and declare a dividend -of seventy-two per cent on the capital stock.” - -Major Buell Hampton, again addressing the chair, remarked that -seventy-two per cent, was certainly a fat dividend. But for himself -he had purchased a control of the Company’s stock for the purpose of -introducing some innovations in its management, and in order that there -might be no misunderstanding he felt it was now proper to present his -views. If any of the directors were not in harmony, why, of course, it -would be inadvisable for them to stand for re-election to a directorate -over which he intended henceforth to exercise a close supervision. - -“I now wish to ask the directors of the Company this question,” -added the Major. “What about Boney Earnest’s dividend?” - -He paused for a reply. - -For a moment the stockholders and representatives of stockholders -present seemed almost dumfounded. They turned to the manager, Mr. Grady, -who answered the Major by saying he did not know that Boney Earnest, the -dismissed blast furnace foreman, was a stockholder or had any investment -in the concern—“it was all news to him,” he added with a weak -attempt at levity. - -Major Hampton had remained standing, and by silent consent all waited -for him to reply to this statement. - -“Yes, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “Boney Earnest may not be a -stockholder of record. But all the same he had his all invested in this -smelting plant. Day after day, during year after year, he stood before -the blast furnace, doing work of a class which few men could endure. It -is true he received a daily wage until the date of his dismissal, but he -had invested in addition to his daily duties almost a life-time of ripe -experience in the particular work he was doing for this concern. -In short, he had his all—his strength, his brain and his -experience—invested. In these circumstances I object,” continued -Major Hampton, “to a dividend of seventy-two per cent. I notice -from the manager’s report that he has made ample allowances for -betterments, replacements, and surplus, and even with all these very -proper provisions, the enormous possible dividend of seventy-two per -cent, still remains. An original capital stock of $500,000 and an annual -dividend of $360,000, certainly is a magnificent showing.” - -Buell Hampton paused and all present clapped their hands gleefully, as -if the Major was coming around to their way of thinking. - -After silence was restored he proceeded: “Money is worth probably -from five per cent, to six per cent, per annum on solid, non-hazardous -investments and at least double these figures or more on mining -investments which must be regarded as extremely hazardous. It is not, -however, worth seventy-two per cent. per annum. Therefore, gentlemen, -we will declare a dividend of six per cent, on the capital stock, which -will require $30,000. We will then add the capital stock to the pay -roll. The pay roll for the last year in round numbers is $1,100,000. The -capital stock is $500,000 or a total of both of $1,600,000. We will then -declare the remaining $330,000 of earnings into a dividend on the entire -$1,600,000 of capital stock and annual pay roll combined, which amounts -to a little over twenty per cent. This will give to the shareholders -of our company’s stock a little more than a twenty-six per cent, -dividend.” - -The Major sat down. Consternation was apparent on every countenance. - -“Major,” said one of the eastern directors, “may I ask you what -would happen and what you would do in carrying out your altruistic -dream if the earnings did not amount to even six per cent, on the money -actually invested?” - -The Major arose again and with great politeness replied: “Probably -we would not declare a dividend. If we had but $30,000 that could be -legitimately applied to dividend purposes, the amount would belong to -the stockholders. But anything above this preferred dividend to the -shareholders should be declared on the annual pay roll combined with -and added to the capital stock of the company, both classes of investors -participating in the surplus over and above six per cent, preferred -dividend. The question with me,” added the Major, “is this? How many -of you directors are in sympathy with the suggestion I have made?” - -There came no answer, and he continued: “A while ago I expressed -myself against your manager for a position on the directorate. I always -have a reason for my decisions. It has come to me,” continued the -Major, “that while the original cost of this plant may have been -$500,000 yet by the wicked manipulation of the ‘system’ the original -shareholders were completely frozen out—legally robbed if you please, -of their investment and it is quite probable the Pennsylvania crowd, the -present owners or at least those who were the owners before I purchased -a control, paid very little in real money but much in duplicity and -ripened experience in the ways of the fox and the jackal. I have learned -on excellent authority that Mr. W. B. Grady, by stealth and cunning, -secured the underlying bonds from one of the former builders of this -great plant, and robbed him and left him penniless in his old age. -Unless other means of restitution be devised, the reimbursing of those -stolen sums out of my private purse will be one of my first duties and -one of my greatest pleasures.” - -Grady rose, his face flushed with passion. But Buell Hampton waved -him down with his hand and calmly proceeded: “I will state another -innovation. There are seven directors who control the destinies of this -company. I now insist that the company’s attorney shall be instructed -to have the by-laws so amended that the head of each department, -beginning at the mine where we extract the ore, then the tramway which -carries the ore to the smelter and all the various departments in the -smelter including the converter—shall be elected annually by the -workers themselves in each of the seven departments. In this way there -will be seven foremen; and these seven foremen shall be officially -recognized by the amended by-laws of this company as an advisory board -of directors, entitled to sit and vote with the regular directors at -each monthly meeting and likewise with the stockholders in their annual -meeting.” - -Had a bomb-shell been thrown into the stockholders’ meeting greater -consternation could not have been evinced’. Finally Attorney Carlisle -moved that an adjournment be taken until ten o’clock the next day, at -which time the stockholders would re-assemble and further consider the -unexpected and doubtless vital questions now under consideration. The -motion prevailed. - -Of course the entire matter hinged first of all upon the election of -a directorate. During the adjournment Attorney Carlisle, peeved at -Grady’s readiness to drop him from the directorate, called on Major -Hampton and assured him he was in accord with the views he had expressed -and that his every suggestion could be legally complied with by amending -the by-laws. - -Buell Hampton, however, did not take the hint implied. He was courteous -but firm. The old régime had to go—the management must be changed, -lock, stock and barrel. Therefore there could be no further utilization -of Mr. Carlisle’s services as attorney for the company. Baffled and -discomfited the lawyer withdrew. He was full of indignation, not against -Major Hampton, but against Grady, for he had warned the latter against -selling a certain block of stock to part with which had jeopardized -control of the corporation. But Grady, in need of money, had replied -that there was no risk, the buying being sporadic and the existing -directorate in high favor with the stockholders because of its ability -and readiness to vote big dividends. - -Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock -had passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, -Allen Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and -Smelter Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing -Grady and crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he -sensed the danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been -in reality for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had -been caught quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able -now to throw him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For -once the fox had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, -away from the tall timber. - -Carlisle had of late been too busy “doing politics,” and had allowed -matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now the -two old-time confederates were blaming each other—Carlisle denouncing -Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding Carlisle for -neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the real buyers -of the shares being gradually transferred on the company’s stock -books. The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of blocking -the transfer of power into new hands. - -When the stockholders’ meeting reconvened the following morning, Major -Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the -directorate. They were—Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest -and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the -duties of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places -to be filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old -directors were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors -became a unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both -Grady and Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room. - -Major Hampton’s views on corporations and dividends, and his new plan -of management for the Smelter Company spread all over the camp with -astonishing rapidity, and there was general rejoicing among the miners -and laborers. - -One employee in the smelter who had been with the company for some three -years made the discovery that, while he was receiving three dollars per -day, which meant an annual income to himself and family of $1095, his -dividend would bring him an extra lump sum of $219 annually. - -When figuring this out to his wife he said: “Think of the pairs of -shoes it will buy for our kiddies, Bess.” - -And the woman, an Irishwoman, had replied: “Bless the little -darlin’s. And hats and coats as well, not to speak of ribbons for the -girls. God bless the Major. Sure but he’s a wonderful man.” - -Several workers sitting in a corner of the Red Dog saloon were -calculating with pencil and paper their annual dividends on the already -famous Buell Hampton plan. - -“Boys,” said one of them after they had their several accounts -figured to the penny, “maybe we won’t make the dividend bigger next -year—what?” - -“I should say,” responded another. “I’ll do at least twice the -work every day of the coming year, because there’s now an object -for us poor devils to keep busy all the time. We’re sharing in the -profits, that’s just what it means.” - -“There’ll be a great reduction in breakage and waste,” remarked -another employee. - -“The directors can leave it to us to make the next year’s dividend a -dandy one.” - -These were just a few of the grateful encomiums flying around. - -On the day following the stockholders’ meeting the newly elected -directors convened, all except Grant Jones, who was over at Dillon and -had not yet been advised of his election. After Major Buell Hampton had -been voted into the chair a communication from W. B. Grady was read, -stating that he wished to know at once if the directors desired his -services for the ensuing year; if so he required a written contract, -and should the directors not be ready to comply with this ultimatum they -could interpret this letter as a formal resignation. There was a general -smile around the directors’ table at this bluffing acceptance of the -inevitable. It was promptly moved, seconded, and carried unanimously -that Mr. W. B. Grady be at once relieved from all further connection -with the Smelter Company’s plant and business. - -Major Hampton then explained that in accordance with his scheme the men -in the various departments would be invited at an early date to elect -their foremen, and these foremen in turn would have the power, not -to elect a general manager, but to recommend one for the final -consideration of the directors. Until a permanent appointment was made -he suggested that Boney Earnest, the blast furnace foreman dismissed by -the late manager because of a personal quarrel, should take charge of -the plant, he being a man of tried experience and worthy of absolute -trust. This suggestion was promptly turned into a substantive motion -and adopted by formal resolution. The meeting adjourned after Director -Bragdon in his capacity as company attorney had been instructed to -proceed immediately to the work of preparing the proper amendments to -the by-laws and taking all legal steps necessary to put into operation -the new plan. - -Thus neither mine nor smelting plant was shut down, but everything went -on without interruption and with greater vigor than before the momentous -meetings of stockholders and directors. The only immediate visible -effect of the company’s radical change in policy was Grady’s -deposition from the post which had enabled him to exercise a cruel -tyranny over the workingmen. - -And in the solitude of his home the dismissed manager, broken -financially although those around him did not yet know it, was nursing -schemes of revenge against Buell Hampton, the man of mystery who had -humiliated him and ousted him from power. - -Where was his henchman, Bud Bledsoe?—that was the question throbbing -in Grady’s brain. But Bud Bledsoe was now an outlaw among the hills, -with a price on his head and a sheriff’s posse ready at a moment’s -notice to get on his heels. - -“By God, I’ve got to find him,” muttered Grady. And that night, in -the falling dusk, he rode out alone into the mountain fastnesses. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS - -THE morning after the directors’ meeting, when Roderick awakened and -looked out of the window, he found the air filled with flakes of falling -snow. He wasted no time over his toilet. Immediately after breakfast he -bundled up snugly and warmly, went over to the livery stable and engaged -a team and a sleigh. Soon after, the horses decorated with the best -string of sleigh bells the livery could provide, he was holding the -reins taut and sailing down through the main street of the little mining -town headed for the country. He was going to the Shields ranch. Half a -dozen invitations had been extended him during the past weeks, and he -told himself he had been neglectful of his old employer. - -When he reached the ranch and his team was duly stabled, the sleigh run -in out of the storm, he was cordially welcomed by the family before a -roaring fire of cheerfulness, and a multitude of questions were poured -upon him. - -“Why did you not come sooner and what about Major Hampton and the -smelter? We have heard all sorts of wonderful things?” - -“Why, what have you heard about the Major?” inquired Roderick, -endeavoring to get a lead to the things that had evoked such surprise. - -“I will tell you,” said Barbara. “Papa heard of it the day before -yesterday when he was in town. The stockholders were having a meeting, -and people said it had turned out to the surprise of everyone that Major -Hampton was the owner of a control of the company’s stock.” - -“Yes,” replied Roderick, “the rumor is correct. Great things have -indeed happened. But haven’t you heard from Ben Bragdon?” - -“Not a word.” - -“Well, I suppose he has been too busy reconstructing the by-laws -and the company’s affairs generally. Major Hampton has put him in as -attorney. There’s a financial plum for you, Miss Barbara.” - -“And Mr. Carlisle?” she asked in great astonishment. - -“Like W. B. Grady, he is down and out,” replied Roderick. -“There’s been a clean sweep. And behold in me a full-blossomed -member of the board of directors. Our chairman, the Major, has handed -me over a small library of books about smelting of ores, company -management, and so on. He tells me I’ve got to get busy and learn the -business—that I’m slated as vice-president and assistant manager, -or something of that kind. What do you think of all that, Mr. Shields? -There’s a rise in the world for your cowboy and broncho-buster of a -few months ago.” - -The cattle king and all the others warmly congratulated Roderick on his -rising fortunes. Dorothy now took the lead in the conversation. - -“You folks, keep still a moment until I ask Mr. Warfield just one -question,” she said eagerly. - -“Oh,” exclaimed Roderick, quickly, “I can answer the question. No, -Grant Jones has not been over to Encampment for quite a while.” - -A general laugh followed. - -“He has a devil over at his office,” added Roderick gravely. - -“A what?” they exclaimed. - -“A devil. You surely know what a devil in a printing office is? It is -a young fellow who washes the ink from the rolls and cleans the type or -something of that sort—sweeps out, makes fires and does a wholesale -janitor business. If he is faithful for fifteen or twenty years, then -he learns to set type and becomes a printer. Grant is breaking his new -devil in. Scotty Meisch, formerly one of your father’s cowboys, is his -name.” - -“Oh, little Scotty,” exclaimed Barbara. “I remember him.” - -“Well, does that necessarily keep Grant away?” asked Dorothy. - -“Oh, no, he is not necessarily kept away. He is probably a believer, -Miss Dorothy, that absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ I was very -disappointed,” Roderick went hurriedly on, smiling, “that Grant was -not in town to share the sleigh with me in coming over this morning. Of -course he doesn’t know it yet, but he also has been elected as one of -the directors of the Encampment Mine and Smelter Company.” - -“He has?” exclaimed Dorothy, her face lighting: “My word, but -he’ll be all puffed up, won’t he?” - -“Oh, no,” replied Roderick, “Grant is a very sensible fellow and -he selects his friends and associates with marked discrimination.” - -“Well, that’s what I think,” concurred Dorothy emphatically. - -She was not a little embarrassed by a second ebullition of general -laughter. There was a flush of rising color on her pretty cheeks. - -“Well, I don’t care,” she added bravely. “If I like anybody I -let them know about it, and that’s all there is to be said.” - -While luncheon was in progress, Roderick suggested that as the sleighing -was very good and his sleigh a very large one—the seat exceedingly -wide—the young ladies should come sleigh-riding with him in the -afternoon. - -“Splendid,” shouted the sisters in unison. “Certainly, we will be -delighted provided mother has no objections.” - -“Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, good-naturedly. “This first snow of -the season makes me feel like having a sleigh-ride myself. But, there, -your seat certainly won’t take four of us, and I know that Mr. Shields -is too busy to think of getting out his sleigh this afternoon.” - -“Well, I’LL tell you what I’ll do, Mrs. Shields,” said Roderick, -stirring his coffee. “I’ll take you for a ride first. We will go as -far as the river and back again, and then if the young ladies are real -good why of course I’ll give them the next spin.” - -“Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, “you young people go on and have your -sleigh ride and a good time.” - -“No,” objected Barbara. “You shall have the first sleigh ride, -Mama, and if you don’t go then Dorothy and I stay at home.” - -“Come now, Mrs. Shields,” urged Roderick, “accept my invitation, -for I see if you don’t I shall not be able to persuade the young -ladies to come.” - -“Yes, Mother,” said Dorothy, “it is just lovely of him to invite -you, and certainly the sleigh ride will be invigorating. The truth is, -we girls will enjoy the ride afterwards doubly if we know you have had -the first ride of the season before we have ours.” - -“Very well,” said Mrs. Shields, “since you all insist, so let it -be.” - -Soon after Roderick’s team was hitched to the sleigh and came jingling -down to the front gate. Mrs. Shields was tucked snugly in under the -robes and away they dashed with sleigh bells jingling, down the road -towards the Platte River several miles away. - -When they got back Barbara and Dorothy were in readiness, and Roderick -started away with them amid much merry laughter and promises from the -girls to be home when they got home but not before. The snow was still -falling in great big flakes and the cushion beneath the runners was soft -and thick. Mile followed mile, and it was late in the afternoon when the -sleighing party found themselves in Encampment. Roderick insisted that -the young ladies should have supper at the Hotel Bonhomme; they would -start on the return trip home immediately afterwards. - -When the sleigh drove up to the hotel, who should be looking out of the -front door but Grant Jones? He rushed outside and assisted the sisters -to alight. - -“I will be back in a few minutes,” shouted Roderick, as he dashed -away to the livery stable. - -“Say, Joe,” said Roderick while the horses were being unhitched, -“I will want the rig again after dinner, and Grant Jones will also -want a sleigh.” - -“All right,” replied the stableman. “I can fix him out all right -and everything will be in readiness. Just telephone and I’ll send the -rip over to the hotel.” - -At the dinner table Grant Jones was at his best. He had already heard -about the Smelter Company affairs and his own election as a director, -and waved the topic aside. It was the surprise of seeing Dorothy that -filled him with good-humor and joviality. As the meal progressed he -turned to Roderick and said: “Oh, yes, Roderick, I’ve just been -hearing from Scotty Meisch that during the summer months you learned to -be a great trout fisherman.” - -“Yes,” replied Roderick with a smile, “I certainly had a great -trout-fishing experience.” - -“Where?” asked Barbara quickly. - -“On the South Fork of the Encampment River.” - -“Now, Mr. Roderick Warfield,” said Barbara quite emphatically, “I -invited you to go trout fishing with me a good many times, and you told -me I should be the one to teach you the gentle art. Instead of this you -go away and learn to catch trout all alone. How many did you catch?” - -Roderick reddened with embarrassment. - -“Twenty-six,” he said. - -“Well, that was a pretty good catch for a novice. How big were -they?” - -“About two pounds,” Roderick answered, absent-mindedly. - -Grant Jones was fairly choking with laughter. “I say, Barbara,” he -began. - -“I didn’t go trout fishing alone,” interrupted Roderick quickly. - -“Look here, Barbara,” persisted Grant, calling to her across the -table. But Barbara was all attention to Roderick. - -“Who went with you?” she inquired. - -“Miss Gail Holden,” he replied and his face was actually crimson. - -Barbara laid down her knife and fork and leaned back in her chair, -placed her arms akimbo with her pretty hands on her slender waist line, -and looked at Roderick as if she were an injured child. Finally she -said: “Trifler!” Then everybody laughed at Roderick’s confusion. - -But he quickly recovered himself. - -“Trifler yourself!” he laughed back in rejoinder. “What about Ben -Bragdon? What would he have said had we gone trout-fishing together?” - -“You were not out of the running then,” said Barbara archly. - -“Oh, yes, I was, although the secret was to be kept until after the -nomination for senator.” - -It was Barbara’s turn now to blush. She looked around in some -bewilderment. Grant had bestowed a vigorous kick on Roderick’s shins -beneath the table. Only then did Roderick realize that he had broken -a confidence. Dorothy was eyeing Grant reproachfully. It was a case of -broken faith all round. - -“Well, you sisters have no secrets from each other,” exclaimed -Roderick, meeting the situation with a bright smile. “In just the -same way Grant and I are chums and brothers. Besides it was a friendly -warning. I was saved in time from the danger of shattered hopes and a -broken heart, Miss Barbara.” - -“So went fishing for consolation,” she replied with a smile. - -“And found it,” laughed Grant. - -“Who says that?” demanded Roderick, sternly. “Miss Holden would -have every reason seriously to object.” - -“The devil says it,” replied Grant, assuming a grave countenance. - -“That’s a poor joke,” said Roderick, offended. - -“Oh, Scotty Meisch is an observant lad,” remarked the editor drily. - -“The printer’s devil!” cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. And -all four laughed heartily—Roderick most heartily of all despite his -momentary dudgeon. - -“Then since all these whispers are going about,” remarked Barbara -when quiet was restored, “I think it will be advisable for me to have -a heart-to-heart talk with Gail.” - -“Oh, please don’t,” faltered Roderick. “Really, you know, -there’s no foundation for all this talk—all this nonsense.” - -“Indeed? Then all the more need for me to drop her a friendly -warning—guard her against shattered hopes and a broken heart and all -that sort of thing.” - -The tables were fairly turned, but Barbara, with quick woman’s wit, -saw that Roderick was really pained at the thought lest Gail Holden -might learn of this jesting with her name. - -“Oh, don’t be afraid,” she said, reassuringly. “We three will -keep your secret, young man. We are all chums and brothers, aren’t we -now?” And with one accord, laughing yet serious too, they all shook -hands to seal the bond, and any breaches of confidence in the past were -forgiven and forgotten. - -It had been a merry supper party, but it was now time to be starting -for the ranch. As they rose from the table Roderick turned to Grant and -said: “You will have to excuse me, old boy, as I am taking the ladies -home.” - -“Taking the ladies home? Well, ain’t I goin’ along?” asked -Grant, with a doleful look at Dorothy. - -“No room in our sleigh,” said Roderick coldly. - -“Roderick,” said Grant, half sotto voce, “you are cruel.” -But Roderick was unsympathetic and did not even smile. He turned away -indifferently. Drawing Barbara aside, he told her in an undertone of the -arrangements he had made with the livery stable for an extra sleigh. - -“Then you’ll be alone with me,” she said, with an amused smile. -“Won’t you be afraid? Broken heart, etc?” - -“Not now,” he replied sturdily. - -“Or of Mr. Bragdon? He mightn’t like it, you know.” - -“Oh, I’m not afraid of him,” laughed Roderick. “And I guess he -will trust me—and you,” he added gently and with a chivalrous little -bow. - -Shortly the sleighs were brought round to the hotel. Grant was beside -himself with delight when he discovered the extra rig for himself and -Dorothy, and he laughingly shouted to Roderick: “I say, old man, -you’re the best ever.” Soon the merrymakers were tucked snugly -beneath the lap robes, and were speeding over the glistening expanse of -snow to the joyous tinkle of the silver bells. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN - -RODERICK WARFIELD’S election to a seat on the board of directors of -the Encampment Mine and Smelter Company had for him a series of most -unexpected consequences. He had had no knowledge that Uncle Allen -Miller and a number of his financial followers in Iowa were now large -stockholders in the corporation. Nor had he been aware that Major Buell -Hampton, after his journey to New York, had visited the Keokuk banker. -The Major had learned from his brokers in Wall Street that Allen Miller -was on the market for this particular stock and had already acquired a -considerable holding. Hence his flying business visit to Keokuk, which -had resulted in the combination of forces that had gained the control -and ousted Grady, Carlisle, and their pawns on the old directorate. - -Major Hampton had since been in continuous correspondence with the -banker, but had never for a moment associated the names of Allen Miller -and Roderick Warfield as having any possible connection by relationship -or otherwise. The selection of the new board had been left entirely in -Buell Hampton’s hands after the banker had given his assent to the -profit-sharing scheme. That assent had not been won without considerable -argument. The plan upset all the banker’s old theories about -industrial enterprises. At the same time the shrewd old man of finance -was reading the signs of the times, and had long since come to realize -that a readjustment of the relations between capital and labor was -inevitable. He was all the more inclined to make this experiment, in the -first place because he was not going to be bothered with the working out -of the practical details, and in the second place because the magnetic -personality of Buell Hampton had at once inspired him with confidence -both in his ability to do things and in his integrity. Therefore the -shrewd old banker had fallen in with the Major’s plans, and given him -a free hand when entrusting him with the powers of attorney for himself -and the other Iowan stockholders. - -In point of fact there was another secret motive animating Allen Miller -to this line of action. Unless he cooperated with Buell Hampton, the -control would remain with W. B. Grady and his associates. And it was -Grady whom the banker was after—Grady, the financial shark who had -robbed his lifelong friend, General John Holden, of his underlying bonds -in the original and now defunct smelter company, at the time when the -amalgamation scheme had been devised to freeze out the first founders -of the enterprise. General Holden had been the chief victim of this -rapacious trick of financial jugglery, and Allen Miller was working -secretly to undo the wrong. But the banker was animated not only by -reasons of friendship. He had another incentive almost as strong. He -wanted to satisfy his keen sense of personal pride toward Roderick -Warfield. For the vital cause of quarrel between the old banker and the -youth he loved yet had disowned was the unnamed girl he had thrust upon -Roderick as a suitable bride because of her fortune. And this fortune -had been proved to be illusory on the very day succeeding the rupture -that had culminated in Roderick’s fine display of scorn and anger, -when he had flung himself out of the banker’s room and started off for -parts unknown to fight his own way in the world. - -It was the financial disaster which had overtaken General Holden that -had opened Allen Miller’s eyes to the truth that he had been utterly -wrong in his attempted methods of managing a headstrong, and as the -old guardian had thought at the time a wayward, youth like Roderick -Warfield. He had bitterly regretted the harsh words that had dared the -offender to play football with the world and, as he now realized, had -by their sarcastic bitterness driven the high-mettled young man from his -boyhood home. He had never doubted Roderick’s prowess to make a way -for himself by his own unaided efforts, and, despite the quarrel, had -always felt sure of the lad’s affection. So Roderick one day would -come back, to find the latchstring hanging outside the door of his home, -the promised place in the bank still awaiting him, and—the pride and -dogged determination of the old man would not yield the point—the -rich, attractive, and in every way highly eligible bride still -available. The only flaw in the program was Gail Holden’s fall from -fortune, and to repair this had been the object of the banker’s -continuous and strenuous endeavor. - -He had grabbed at the chance of lending money on the Mine and Smelter -Company bonds standing in the name of W. B. Grady, which bonds he -considered were by moral right really the property of General Holden. -But he had lent discreetly, postponing any big advance while he held the -documents and nosed around for information that might give some valid -reason to dispute their ownership. And in course of time he had made one -surprising discovery. Obtaining from General Holden all correspondence -with Grady, he had found one sentence in which the sponsor for the new -amalgamation scheme had guaranteed the withdrawal of all underlying -bonds in the old smelter company before the scheme would be put through. -Yet this condition had not been complied with, for Allen Miller had, in -the course of tracing every old bond, discovered that five were still in -existence and had never been surrendered. They belonged to a widow away -back in Pennsylvania who had gone to Europe and whose whereabouts at the -time Grady apparently had not been able to ascertain. But the persistent -old banker had followed the trail and through his agents in France had -purchased this particular parcel of bonds at a high figure. They were -few in number and insignificant in face value, but to Allen Miller they -were priceless, for these underlying bonds put W. B. Grady in his power -and could be made the means eventually of compelling restitution to -General Holden of the fortune that had been filched from him. Grady -would have to make good or face the criminal charge of a fraudulent -transaction. - -Buell Hampton had been told nothing about this—it was sufficient for -Allen Miller’s immediate purpose to have the company control wrested -without delay out of Grady’s hands. This would render litigation -easier, perhaps avoid it altogether—the better alternative, for -the law’s harassing delays and heart-sickening uncertainties are -proverbial. So when Buell Hampton had come to Keokuk in the cause of -humanity, to fight for the toilers at the smelter and in the big mine, -he had been agreeably surprised to find in the old banker such a ready -listener to his philanthropic arguments. The alliance had been -struck, with the result that Buell Hampton had been able to swing the -stockholders’ meeting exactly as he desired. - -Up to the very eve of that meeting the Major had kept his counsel and -held his hand. The merest hint of the power he possessed might have -given time for so astute a knave as Grady to devise some means more or -less unscrupulous of repelling the attack. Therefore Buell Hampton had -not dropped one word of what he intended to do until he had spoken to -Roderick in his home on the night before the stockholders’ meeting. -Little did either of them know at that time how vitally and directly -Roderick was interested in the outcome of the Major’s fight for the -downtrodden poor. - -After the eventful meetings of stockholders and directors it had been -Buell Hampton’s first duty to send a full report of the proceedings -to Allen Miller of Keokuk, whose power of attorney had enabled him to -effect the coup deposing Grady and giving a share of the profits to the -actual toilers at the furnaces and in the mine. In the course of this -report the names of the new directors were set forth. Judge of the -old banker’s utter amazement when his eyes fell upon the name -of—Roderick Warfield. Surprise quickly yielded to joy and delight. The -news was telephoned to Aunt Lois. The old banker could not leave town -at the moment—an issue of city bonds required his close attention. But -that very night an envoy was dispatched to Wyoming in the person of his -bright and trusted young clerk, Whitley Adams. - -And the first of the series of surprises for Roderick Warfield, one -afternoon a few days after the sleigh ride, was the sight of his old -college chum tumbling out of a bob-sled which, in default of coaching -facilities, had brought him over from the railroad at Rawlins. Whitley -had stopped the sled in the main street along which, in the crisp -sunshine that had followed the heavy snowfall, Roderick happened to be -strolling. - -“Hello, old scout,” cried the new arrival with all the ease of a -veteran globe-trotter. - -“Where in thunder did you drop from!” exclaimed Roderick, clutching -at his hand. - -“From Iowa’s sun-kissed cornfields to Wyoming’s snow-capped -hills,” laughed Whitley, humming the tune of the hymn he was -parodying. - -“What has brought you here?” - -“Lots of things. A letter for you, to begin with.” - -“From whom?” - -“Your Uncle Allen Miller.” - -“But he doesn’t know I’m here, does he?” - -“The whole world knows you’re here, dear boy,” replied Whitley, -pulling the latest issue of the Encampment Herald out of his pocket. -“Why, you’ve become famous—a director of the great smelting -corporation.” And he flourished the journal aloft. - -“Who sent you that paper?” - -“Major Buell Hampton, of course. At least he sent it to your uncle.” - -“Get out. You’re kidding, Whitley.” - -“No kidding about me, old man. Those irresponsible days are now -over.” Whitley drew himself up with great dignity. “If Buell Hampton -hasn’t told you that he came to Keokuk and made the acquaintance of -Banker Allen Miller, well, that’s his affair, not mine. Where shall we -have dinner? I’m as hungry as a grizzly.” - -“Wait a moment, Whitley. Do you mean to tell me Uncle Allen knows the -Major?” - -“Sure. They’ve been as thick as thieves—or rather I should say -as close as twins—Oh, that reminds me. How are dear Barbara and -Dorothy?” - -“Shut up—stop your nonsense. What were you going to say?” - -“Oh, just this, that ever since the Major paid us a visit at Keokuk, -letters have been passing nearly every week between him and the banker. -I’ve seen all the correspondence.” - -“I have known nothing about this,” said Roderick, in great -perplexity. - -“Well, doubtless you are not in the same confidential position as I -occupy,” replied Whitley airily. “But of course now that you are a -director of the company you’ll come to know—or at least should -know; that’s part of your duties—that Allen Miller is a big -stockholder.” - -There flashed to Roderick’s mind Buell Hampton’s vague reference, on -the night preceding the stockholders’ meeting, to some new friend, -a professional man of finance, with whom he held joint control of the -company’s stock. - -“A true friend of humanity,” he murmured, recalling the Major’s -words. “Great Scott, that’s about the last identification tag I -would have expected for Uncle Allen.” - -“Well, old chap,” interposed Whitley, “don’t mumble in -conundrums. You take it from me that Buell Hampton and your uncle are -financial pals—associates might be the more dignified word. That’s -no doubt why the Major nominated you for the board of directors.” - -Roderick paled. - -“By God, if that’s the case, I’ll resign tomorrow. I’ve been -standing on my own feet here. I owe nothing to Uncle Allen.” - -“There now, put all that touchy pride in your pocket, Roderick. By -jingo, you’re worse than Banker Miller himself. But I took the old -gentleman down a few pegs the afternoon he learned that you were in -Wyoming,” Whitley rambled on, laughing. “He declared that I must -have known your hiding place all the time.” - -“And you answered?” - -“Owned up at once, of course. Told him that others besides himself -could be trusted with a confidence—that neither he nor anybody else -could have bulldosed me into betraying a client. A client—that’s -what I called you, old man. Oh, you can’t give me business points -nowadays. What do you think he said in reply?” - -“Ordered you out of the room, I suppose.” - -“Not on your life! Commended my sagacity, my trustworthiness; told -me again that I was a born banker, one after his own heart. And to show -that he meant what he said, he raised my salary five dollars a week, and -handed me over fifty dollars extra spending money for this trip. What do -you think of that?” - -“I can’t express a thought—I’m too much surprised over the whole -train of events.” - -“Oh, I suppose he knew I’d have to buy a few boxes of candy for the -beautiful Wyoming girls,” Whitley went on. “I had told him after -my first trip here that they were regular stunners—that they had been -buzzing about me like flies around a pot of honey. Oh, he laughed all -right. I know how to manage the old fellow—was half afraid he’d be -coming along himself instead of sending me this time. But he bade me -tell you he couldn’t possibly get away from Keokuk just now. Which -reminds me—here’s your letter, old man; and one, too, from Aunt -Lois. She saw me off at the train, and gave me a kiss to pass on to -you.” Whitley, a bunch of letters in his hand, made a movement as if -to bestow upon Roderick the osculatory salute with which he had been -entrusted. But Roderick, smiling in spite of himself, pushed him back. - -“You irrepressible donkey: Hand over my letters.” - -“Oh, yes, the letters.” Whitley began to sort the bunch of -correspondence. “This is for Buell Hampton. And this is for Ben -Bragdon. I suppose he’s in town?” - -“Yes. But he’s pretty busy.” - -“Won’t be too busy to attend to me, I reckon. Then W. B. -Grady”—he was fingering a neatly folded, legal looking document “I -hope that Grady hasn’t cleared out from Encampment yet.” - -“Not that I’ve heard. In fact I saw him on the street this morning. -You seem to have business with everyone in town.” - -“Just about hits it, old man. And General John Holden. Ah, yes, that -reminds me,” Whitley suspended his sorting of the letters, and looked -up. “How’s the college widow, old man?” - -Roderick reddened. - -“That’s all off,” he answered stiffly. - -“I guessed that’s just what would happen. Best so, by a long chalk, -So Stella Rain is free again. Guess I’ll stop off on my way home, and -take a run to Galesburg. Nice girl, you know, Stella. No saying but I -might make an impression now she is”— - -“Stella Rain is married,” interrupted Roderick, speaking sharply and -shortly. - -“You don’t say? Too bad.” - -“Happily married, I tell you—to some rich fellow.” - -“Oh, then, she threw you over, did she? Ho, ho, ho! But that’s all -right, old fellow. Saves all complications. And Gail, how’s Gail? Oh, -she’s a pipit pin. - -“By gad, Whitley, you shut up. Come and have your dinner. But you -haven’t given me my letters yet.” - -“Ah, I forgot Well this one is for General Holden. I’ve got to see -him at once.” - -“What about?” - -“Confidential business, my friend. Ask no questions for I want to be -spared the pain of refusing you the slightest information. Great -guns, Rod, we financial men, you know, hold more secrets than a father -confessor. We’ve got to keep our mouths shut all the time, even to our -best friends. This is my letter of credit to your local bank—no -limit, mind you, on my sight drafts on Keokuk. Ah, yes, here are your -letters—one from Aunt Lois, the other from your old guardian. Hope he -has put a fat check inside.” - -“I don’t need his checks—if there’s any check here, you can take -it back.” And Roderick ripped open the envelope. - -But there was no offending slip of colored paper enclosed, and he thrust -both the letters unread into his pocket. - -“Now we’ll dine,” he said. - -“A moment, please.” And Whitley turned to the driver of the bob-sled -waiting in the middle of the road. - -“Go and get your dinner, my man,” he called out. “Then hitch fresh -horses in that sled, and come to my hotel, the Bonhomme; that’s the -best place in town, if I remember right, Roderick,” he said with -a glance at his friend. Then he continued to the driver: “Charge -everything to me, and don’t be longer than a couple of hours. Now come -along, Roderick. You dine with me—oh, I have an ample expense fund. -But I’m sorry I’ll have to leave you immediately after dinner.” - -Roderick was overwhelmed by all this grandiloquence. He hardly dared to -take his old chum’s arm as they walked along the street. But at last -he stopped, burst out laughing, and slapped the man of affairs squarely -between the shoulders. - -“Whitley, old chap, you’re a wonder. You play the part to -perfection.” - -“Play the part?” protested Whitley, with a fine assumption of -dignity. “I am the part—the real thing. I’m your rich old -uncle’s right hand man, and don’t you forget it. Would a little -ready cash now be a convenience?” - -Then Whitley’s arm went round his comrade’s neck, and with a -simultaneous whoop of laughter they passed into the hotel. - -But during the next twenty-four hours Roderick saw very little of -his college chum. And during the same period the said college chum -accomplished some very remarkable things. Immediately after dinner the -bob-sled sped out to Conchshell ranch, and General Holden signed the -legal papers that attached, as a measure of precaution, the bonds -standing in the name of W. B. Grady and now in the custody of the bank -at Keokuk as security for a loan. And for half the night Attorney Ben -Bragdon and Whitley Adams were closeted with W. B. Grady in a private -parlor of the hotel, and the fight was fought out for legal possession -of the fraudulently acquired bonds—a fight that put the issue squarely -up to Grady whether he would accept Banker Allen Miller’s terms of -surrender or face a criminal charge. It was in the grey of the breaking -dawn that the vanquished Grady crept out of the hotel, wiping the beads -of cold sweat from his brow, while Whitley was quietly folding up the -properly signed transfers that gave back to General Holden bonds of -equal value to those of which he had been robbed by false pretences and -promises never fulfilled. - -In the morning Whitley was again at the Conchshell ranch, and -breakfasted with the General and his daughter. It was the latter who -bound him to secrecy—to the solemn promise that neither he nor Mr. -Bragdon should divulge to anyone the story of this restored family -fortune. Gail declared that she was going to make good with her dairy -cattle venture, that neither she nor her father wanted to return to -the old life of fashion and society at Quincy, that they had no wish to -appear as rich folks. Whitley listened to all the arguments, understood, -and promised. And that the transfer of the bonds should not be connected -with General Holden’s name it was agreed that for the present they -should pass to Banker Allen Miller as family trustee. - -Whitley’s chest had expanded fully two inches when he drove away, the -trusted emissary for the carrying into effect of these decrees. He had -had a few minutes alone with Gail and, introducing the name of Roderick -Warfield in a casual way, had assured her that he, like everyone else, -would know nothing about these strictly family affairs. She had blushed -a little, reiterated her thanks, and at parting had, he could have -sworn, given him an extra friendly pressure of her dainty little -fingers. - -Whitley drove straight to Ben Bragdon’s office, and took the -precaution of adding to the professional seal of secrecy a direct -expression from the General of his wishes in the matter. - -During the afternoon the young banker from Keokuk personally delivered -the letter from Allen Miller addressed to Major Buell Hampton. Whitley -had insisted upon Roderick accompanying him. The relationship between -Roderick and Banker Miller was now revealed. The Major received the news -without much surprise. - -“In the loom of life,” he said, with great solemnity, “the shuttle -of destiny weaves the threads of individual lives into a pattern -which is only disclosed as time goes on. Thus are the destinies of men -interwoven without their knowing either the how or the why. Roderick, my -dear fellow, from this day on we are simply more closely bound to each -other than ever.” - -The evening was spent at the Shields ranch. Whitley congratulated -Barbara on her engagement to Ben Bragdon, and then took Dorothy’s -breath away by congratulating her and the absent Grant Jones as well. - -Dorothy blushed furiously, and disowned the soft impeachment; to which -Whitley replied that unless her sweetheart got busy promptly and toed -the line, he himself was coming back to Encampment to cut out so tardy -a wooer. “Tell Grant Jones from me,” he said, “that it’s taking -chances to leave the tempting peach upon the tree.” She slapped his -hand playfully for his audacity, and Roderick hurried the flippant -financier out of the room. - -At midnight, in the bright moonlight, Whitley departed for Rawlins -to catch his train. Nothing could persuade him to prolong his -visit—Banker Miller would be hopping around like a cat on hot bricks, -the bank going to wreck and ruin if he did not hurry back, the girls of -Keokuk growing quite jealous of the beauties of Wyoming. - -Like a whiff of sweet perfume the joyous youth was gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY - -NOTWITHSTANDING their change in fortunes, - -Roderick and Grant still made the editor’s shack their home—the -old place endeared to them by many fond associations. A few days after -Whitley Adams’ visit they were seated at the breakfast table, and -Grant had proposed that they should go deer hunting. - -“Excellent weather,” he explained, “as the snow is just deep -enough up in the mountains to drive the deer down. Finest sport in the -world. Nothing like going after big game.” - -“You almost persuade me,” said Roderick, setting down his coffee -and looking at Grant with increased interest. “All the same I hate -to leave the smelter plant even for a day or two. You see I’m just -beginning to get a hang of the business, and I’ve quite made up my -mind to master it.” - -“Oh, let it rip. You’re not tied down to the works, are you?” - -“Certainly not—you don’t imagine I think myself qualified as yet -to be tied down. ‘But what about guns?” - -“Oh, well,” said Grant, “I have a.32 Winchester, one that has -got a record too, by gunnies, as Jim Rankin would say. Its record is -great.” - -“How big a record?” inquired Roderick. - -“Seven deer,” answered Grant. - -“All your own killing?” - -“Well, no. To be downright truthful since you force me to -particularize, I’ll admit I never killed but one deer with it. -But that does not interfere with the gun’s record.” And then he -continued: “I have no doubt Major Hampton will be delighted to loan -you his gun. He has a .30 calibre Government Springfield and in his hands -it has accounted for many a buck.” - -After breakfast they called on Major Hampton. - -“Good morning, gentlemen,” said the Major as he opened the door and -bade them welcome. - -“We are going deer hunting,” said Grant, quite enthusiastically. -“I have a gun, but this-would-be-slayer-of-big-game, Roderick, is -gunless and when we return he may be deerless. Was just wondering, -Major, if you would care to loan your famous deer killer to him. Guess -its long record,” he added, “would fill a book.” - -“Why, certainly,” replied the Major in an absent-minded way; -and then presently he went on: “Do not interpret my hesitation as -unwillingness to accommodate you. It is well you came just when you did, -for within half an hour I myself will be starting for the mountains and -my mind was pre-occupied with my own little preparations.” - -“Can’t you come with us, Major?” asked Grant. - -“But I won’t be depriving you of your gun?” enquired Roderick -simultaneously. - -“I answer ‘no’ to both questions,” was the smiling response. -“I am going out on one of my lonesome excursions—to commune -with Nature face to face for a brief spell. And when I go I need no -rifle—even the very deer there are my trustful friends.” - -Then turning he took down his rifle from its accustomed place and -brought it over to Roderick. - -“This old Springfield has served me well,” he said, smiling in his -own magnificent way. “It was my friend in dark days of need. In my -lifetime, gentlemen, I have never spilled the blood of any living thing -wantonly, and I do not believe man is justified in taking the life of -even a worm on the pathway, a rabbit in the hills, cattle or sheep in -the fields, or a deer in the wilds unless it is for food and to sustain -life.” - -Then suddenly looking at Grant the Major said: “I understand W. R. -Grady is up in the hills?” - -“Yes, so I have heard.” - -“What is he doing? Looking for a mine?” - -“Possibly. They say he is at the Thomas Boarding House most of the -time up at Battle.” - -“Guess,” interrupted Roderick, “that he is not very happy -since the new order of things—your new plan, Major—put him out of -business.” - -“Perhaps he is getting in touch again with his old heeler, Bud -Bledsoe,” suggested Grant. “That outlaw gang has been lying low -for quite a while, but I’m expecting to hear about some new bit of -deviltry any day. Am in need of a corking good newspaper story.” - -“Well, since you are bent on hunting big game,” laughed the Major, -“these miscreants might provide you with all the exciting sport you -are wanting.” - -“Oh, a brace of good fat bucks will be good enough for us. Where’s -the likeliest place to start from, Major? You’re the local authority -on these matters.” - -“You know where Spirit River Falls are?” asked Buell Hampton. - -“I’ve heard of them but have never been there,” replied Grant. - -“I think that I’ve seen them from above,” observed Roderick, -“but I don’t know the way to them.” - -“Well, you know where Gid Sutton’s half-way house is located?” - -“Certainly,” replied Roderick. “I was there less than a month -ago.” - -“Well, Spirit River Falls are located about six or seven miles south -and east of the half-way house. I advise that one of you go up the South -Fork of the Encampment River and the other keep to the right and go over -the hills past Conchshell ranch into a park plateau to the south; then -have your meeting place this evening in an old log structure that you -will find about three-fourths of a mile directly through the timber -southeast from the falls. If you are wise, you will load up two or three -burros, send them with a trusty, and have him make camp for you in this -old deserted hut. You will find a cup of coffee, a rasher of bacon and -a few sandwiches very appetizing by the time you have tramped all day in -your deer-hunting quest And the country all around is full of deer.” - -The young men thanked him warmly for his advice. - -“In point of fact,” continued Buell Hampton, “I’ll be up in the -same region myself. But I’m travelling light and will have the start -of you. Moreover, we can very easily lose each other in that rugged -country of rocks and timber. But don’t mistake me for a buck, -Roderick, if you catch sight of my old sombrero among the brushwood;” -saying which he reached for the broad-brimmed slouch hat hanging against -the wall. - -“I’ll take mighty good care,” replied Roderick. “But I hope -we’ll run up against you, Major, all the same.” - -“No, you won’t find me,” answered Buell Hampton, with a quiet -smile. “I’ll be hidden from all the world. Follow the deer, young -men, and the best of luck to you.” - -The two comrades started away in high feather, anticipating great -results from the tip given them by the veteran hunter. Going straight to -the livery bam, they rigged out three burros, and sent with them one -of the stablemen who, besides being a fairly good cook, happened to -be familiar with the trail to Spirit River Falls, and also knew the -location of the “hunter’s hut” as they found the old log structure -indicated by Buell Hampton was locally named. - -These arrangements concluded, Roderick and Grant started for the hills. -Some half a mile from Encampment they separated—Jones going along -the east bank of the South Fork of the Encampment River and Roderick -following the North Fork until he came to Conchshell canyon. The day was -an ideal one for a deer hunt. There was not a breath of wind. The sky -was overcast in a threatening manner as if it were full of snow that was -liable to flutter down at the slightest provocation. - -As Roderick reached the plateau that constituted the Conchshell ranch -he concluded to bear to the left and as he said to himself “Keep away -from temptation.” He was out hunting wild deer that day and he must -not permit himself to make calls on a sweet-throated songster like Gail. -On through the open fields and over the fences and into a thick growth -of pines and firs, where he plodded his way through snow that crunched -and cried loudly under his feet Indeed the stillness of everything -excepting his own walking began to grate on his nerves and he said to -himself that surely a whitetailed deer with ordinary alertness could -hear him walking even if it were half a mile away. - -As he trudged along mile after mile he was very watchful for game or -tracks, but nothing stirred, no trace of deer was discernible in any -direction. He was following the rim of a hill surmounting some boxlike -canyons that led away abruptly to the left, while a smooth field or park -reached far to the right where the hills were well covered with timber. -Here and there an opening of several acres in extent occurred without -bush or shrub. - -It was perhaps one o’clock in the afternoon and he was becoming a bit -leg-weary. Brushing the snow away from a huge boulder he seated -himself for a short rest. Scarcely had he done so than he noticed that -occasional flakes of snow were falling. “More snow,” he muttered -to himself, “and I am a good ways from a cup of coffee if I am any -judge.” - -After he was rested he got up and again moved on. Just then, as he -looked down into a box canyon, he saw three deer—a doe and two -half-grown fawns. Quickly bringing his gun to his shoulder his first -impulse was to fire. But he realized that it would be foolish for -the animals were at least five hundred yards away and far below the -elevation where he was standing. - -“No,” he said to himself, “I will leave the rim of this mountain -and get down into the canyon.” - -He hastily retreated, and took a circuitous route intending to head off -the deer. In due time he approached the brow of the precipitous bluff -and after walking back and forth finally found a place where he -believed he could work his way down into the canyon. It was a dangerous -undertaking—far more so than Roderick knew—and might have proved his -undoing. - -He was perhaps half way down the side of the cliff, working his way back -and forth, when suddenly some loose stones slipped from under his feet -and away he went, sliding in a sitting position down the side of the -mountain. He had sufficient presence of mind to hold his gun well away -from him to prevent any possible accident from an accidental discharge. -The cushioning of the snow under him somewhat slowed his descent, yet he -could not stop. Down and down he went, meeting with no obstruction that -might have given him a momentary foothold. Presently he saw, to his -great relief of mind, that he was headed for a small fir tree that had -rooted itself on a ledge near the bottom of the canyon. A moment later -his feet came thump against its branches, and while the jar and shock of -suddenly arrested motion were very considerable yet they were not enough -to be attended with any serious consequences. - -Somewhat dazed, he remained seated for a few moments. But soon he found -his footing, and pulling himself together, brushed away the snow from -his apparel and made sure that his gun was all right. After a glance -around he picked his way down some distance farther into the canyon, and -then turning to the right along a little ledge started in the direction -where he expected to sight the deer higher up the hill. - -Suddenly he stopped. There were the deer tracks right before him going -down the gorge. - -“By George,” he muttered aloud, “I did not get far enough down. -However, I will follow the tracks.” And forthwith he started on the -trail, cautiously but highly expectant. - -The direction was westerly, but he had not gone far until the canyon -made an elbow turn to the south and then a little farther on to the -east. “I wonder,” said Roderick to himself, “what sort of a maze I -am getting into. This canyon is more crooked than an old-fashioned worm -fence or a Wyoming political boss.” - -The box canyon continued to grow deeper and the rocky cliffs higher, -zig-zagging first one way and then another until Roderick gave up all -pretense of even guessing at the direction he was travelling. - -“Strange I have never heard of this narrow box-canyon before,” he -thought. - -After walking briskly along for about an hour, keeping the tracks of the -retreating deer in view, he suddenly came to an opening. A little valley -was spread out before him, and to his amazement there were at least a -hundred deer herded together in the park-like enclosure. - -Roderick rubbed his eyes and looked up at the high and abrupt precipices -that surrounded this open valley on every side. It seemed to him that -the walls rose sheer and almost perpendicular several hundred feet to -the rocky rim above. He followed on down, filled with wonderment, and -presently was further astonished by finding several great bubbling -springs. Each basin was fully a hundred feet across, and the agitated -waters evidently defied freezing, for they fairly boiled in their -activity, overflowing and coming together to form quite a big tumbling -mountain stream. - -Stealthily following on and keeping the great herd in view he mentally -speculated on the surprise he would give Grant Jones when he came to -display the proofs of his prowess as a hunter of the hills. Surely -with his belt full of cartridges and the large number of deer in sight, -although as yet too far away to risk a shot, he could add several -antlered heads to Grant’s collection. The stream grew larger. There -were a number of other springs feeding their surplus waters into brooks -which eventually all joined the main stream, and he mentally resolved -that the next time Gail and he went trout-fishing they would visit this -identical spot. He laughed aloud and asked the question: “Will she be -mine so that we may come together for a whole week into this beautiful -dell?” - -The farther he advanced the less snow he found in the strange, -rock-fenced valley. The grasses had grown luxuriantly in the summer -season, and the deer were browsing in seeming indifference to his -presence yet moving on away from him all the time. He began wondering -if all this were a mirage or a reality. He looked a second time at the -slowly receding herd and again he laughed aloud. “Such foolishness,” -he exclaimed. “It is an absolute reality, and right here I will make -my name and fame as a hunter.” - -He stopped suddenly, for just across the stream, standing among the -boulders and pebbles of an old channel, were four deer, not two hundred -feet away. They were looking at him in mild-eyed wonder, one of them a -noble, splendidly antlered buck. Lifting the Major’s Springfield to -his shoulder Roderick sighted along the barrel and fired. Three of the -deer ran away. But the buck jumped high into the air, attempted to climb -the opposite bank, failed and fell backward. - -Hurriedly crossing over the stream and slipping in his excitement off -the stones into knee-deep water, he came quickly up to the wounded deer. -Instantly the animal bounded to his feet, but fell again. Roderick fired -a second shot which reached a vital spot. The magnificent denizen of the -hills had been vanquished in the uneven contest with man’s superior -knowledge and deadly skill. - -The novice in huntsman’s craft had received all sorts of book -instructions and verbal explanations from Grant Jones. So he at once -drew his hunting knife, thrust it into the jugular vein of the dying -deer, and bled him copiously. Only the hunter knows the exultant -feelings of mingled joy and excitement that possessed Roderick at that -moment. His first deer! Resting the gun against a small cottonwood -tree that grew on a raised bank between the old channel and the flowing -waters, he walked to the stream, washed the crimson from his knife, and -returned the weapon to its sheath. - -Then he looked around to get his bearings. He knew he had come with -the waters from what seemed to be a westerly direction. The stream was -evidently flowing toward the east. As he walked along in the old channel -over the sandbar he kicked the rocks and pebbles indifferently, and then -stopped suddenly, gasped and looked about him. - -On every side the mountains rose precipitately fully six or seven -hundred feet. There was no visible outlet for the stream. - -“Is it possible,” he exclaimed with bated breath, “that I am in -the lost canyon? And this,” he said, stooping down and picking up a -nugget of almost pure gold—“is this the sandbar on which my father -and Uncle Allen Miller found their treasure yeans and years ago? -Marvelous! Marvelous! Marvelous!” - -For the moment the slain deer was forgotten. His achievement as a hunter -of big game no longer thrilled him. He was overwhelmed by a mightier -surge of emotion. - -“Yes,” he said finally in a low voice of conviction, “this at last -is the lost find!” - -And he sank down on the gold-strewn pebbly sandbar, limp and helpless, -completely overcome. - -A minute later he had recovered his composure. He stood erect He -gazed down the valley. The startled herd of deer had vanished into the -brushwood and low timber. - -But there, slowly ascending along the river bed, was the figure of Buell -Hampton. Roderick stood stockstill, lost in amazement, waiting. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS - -SO IT is you who have found my Hidden Valley,” said Buell Hampton -as he drew near. His voice had a regretful ring, but as he grasped -Roderick’s hand he added cordially: “I thank God it is you, -Roderick. When I heard the rifle shots I was afraid it might be Bud -Bledsoe or some of his gang.” - -“Your hidden valley, Major?” murmured Roderick, interrogatively and -with emphasis on the first word. - -“Yes, my son—the valley from which I took the carload of rich ore we -sold in Denver.” - -“Great guns, Major. I too have discovered gold—placer gold.” - -“Where?” - -“At your feet. Look.” And Roderick stooped and picked up a fine -smooth-worn nugget as big as a pigeon’s egg. “Look, look, look,” -continued Roderick. “It is all around us on this sandbar.” - -“I did not happen on this spot,” said Buell Hampton. “The fact -is I hardly explored the valley at all. I had all the gold I wanted or -could ever want in my own find.” - -“Then where is that find?” - -“Lower down the stream—a dyke of porphyry and white quartz. But -you already know the kind of ore Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney Earnest -helped me to get out of the valley. It is quite different from your -gold.” - -The Major stooped, and collected a handful of good-sized nuggets. - -“How did you come to find this place, Roderick?” he asked, gazing up -at the sheer cliffs around them. - -“I have been searching for it,” he replied, “since ever I came to -Wyoming. Oh, Major, it is a strange story. I hardly know where to begin. -But wait. Sit down on that boulder. I have my father’s letter with me. -You can read it and will then understand.” - -From an inner pocket Roderick produced the map and letter which had -never left his possession, night or day, since his Uncle Allen had -handed him the sealed packet in the bank manager’s room at Keokuk. -Without a word Buell Hampton took the seat indicated, and after a -preliminary glance at the map proceeded to read the long epistle left -by the old miner, John Warfield, as a dying legacy to his son. Roderick -sitting on his heels watched in silence while the other read. - -“Your father was a sensible man,” remarked Buell Hampton, as at -last he refolded the paper. “I like the spirit in which he wrote—the -fervent expression of his hope that this wealth will prove a blessing to -you instead of a disquieting evil. Yes, you have undoubtedly found your -father’s lost mine. But, Roderick, why did you not tell me of this -before? I would have gladly helped you to a quicker discovery. This map -here I would have recognized at a glance as the map of my happy retreat, -my Hidden Valley.” - -“Well, Major, I may seem to have been a bit reticent—or independent, -may I call it? But you will remember that it was early in our intimacy -when you showed me and the others those rich ore specimens in your -home. And you yourself were reticent—bound us to secrecy, yet gave us -no-single clue as to the whereabouts of your wonderful discovery.” - -“Because I wanted to protect this place from intrusion—I indulged -in the dream that the treasure of the valley might be made to fall only -into worthy hands, which dream could never be realized unless I guarded -my secret from one and all.” - -“Your sentiment I quite understand. But don’t you see, Major, it was -this very reticence on your part that made me reticent—that virtually -sealed my lips? I have often thought of showing you my father’s -letter, of telling the full reasons that brought me to Wyoming. But to -have done so after you had shown us that ore would have been simply to -press you for further information—to have asked you to divulge the -location of your mine which you had resolved to keep secret so that I -might possibly be assisted in the quest for my father’s lost claim. I -couldn’t do that I am sure you will now understand my feelings.” - -“Fine feelings, Roderick,” exclaimed the Major, extending his -hand. “Feelings after my own heart I understand them, and can only -compliment you on your sturdy independence. But how did you get here?” -And again he glanced up the precipitous mountains. - -“Well, I think I might almost say I tumbled down into the canyon,” -laughed Roderick. “I slipped and tobogganed down a steep slope. Then I -followed the tracks of four deer I was after, and found myself here. By -the way, have you looked at my splendid buck?” - -Buell Hampton rose, and as if by force of habit drew his hunting knife -and proceeded to dress and gambrel the deer. Roderick watched the -skilled hands at work. Before many minutes the carcass was hanging on -the peg of a broken limb. - -“Certainly, a fine buck,” remarked the Major, stepping back -admiringly. “Your first, I believe?” - -“My very first.” - -“Not often that a man kills his first deer and discovers a gold mine -on the same day, eh?” laughed Buell Hampton. “But where is Grant -Jones?” - -“I haven’t seen him since morning. We followed your directions, and -took opposite sides of the river.” - -“Then he will meet you tonight at the old log hut?” - -“That’s our arrangement. But how are we to get out of this -box-canyon?” - -“I can show you an easier way out than the toboggan slide by which you -came in,” replied the Major, smiling. “At the same time I think I -should prefer to follow your tracks, so that in the future I may know -this second means of access. I am afraid the secret of this little -sequestered valley can be no longer kept from the world. I presume you -are going to stake out a claim and record it.” - -“You bet,” laughed Roderick. “There’s no sentiment about -sequestered valleys or happy retreats in my make-up. Great Scott, -there’s a cool million dollars of gold lying around right here. I’m -going to take no chances of the next man finding the spot. Isn’t that -common sense, Major?” - -“No doubt,” replied Buell Hampton, “it is common sense in your -case. And you are obviously following your father’s bidding in making -the fullest and the best use of the wealth he tried so long in vain to -rediscover. Are you familiar with the regulations as to staking out a -claim?” - -“Oh, yes, I’ve posted myself on all that.” - -“Well, choose your ground, and I’ll whittle your stakes.” He rose -and again unsheathed his hunting knife. - -“Major,” cried Roderick, “along this old channel there’s at -least three men’s ground. We’ll stake for you and for me and for -Grant Jones.” - -“But Grant Jones must have been on his claim before he can file on it. -That’s the law.” - -“We’ll bring him down tomorrow morning.” - -“Then, go ahead,” said the Major. “I think it is right and proper -to secure all the ground we can. I believe it will be all for the best -that it should be in our hands.” - -Within an hour stakes had been placed at the corners of the three placer -claims, and the proper location notices, written on leaves torn from -Buell Hampton’s note book, affixed to a stake in the centre of each -claim. - -“I think that this complies with all legal requirements,” remarked -the Major, as they surveyed their workmanship. “Now, Roderick, tit for -tat. You will come down the valley with me, and we shall secure, as -lode claims, the porphyry dyke from which I have cut out merely the rich -outcrop.” - -Another hour’s labor saw the second task completed. - -They were back at Roderick’s sandbar, and had filled their pockets -with nuggets. - -“Now for the ascent,” said Buell Hampton. “Tomorrow morning we -shall return, and breakfast here on your venison. Hurry up now; the -evening shadows are already falling.” - -The trail left by Roderick and the four deer through the canyon and -along the zigzag gash in the mountains above the bubbling springs was -clearly traceable in the snow. When the narrow ledge by which Roderick -had descended into the gorge was reached the Major took the precaution -of blazing an occasional tree trunk for future direction. Progress was -easy until they reached the abrupt declivity down which the hunter had -slipped. A little farther along the deer appeared to have descended -the steep incline by a series of leaps. In the gathering dusk it was -impossible to proceed farther; steps would have to be cut or a careful -search made for some way around. - -“We must go back,” said Buell Hampton. “Now I will show you my -means of access to the canyon—one of the most wonderful rock galleries -in the world.” - -Retracing their footsteps they hastened along at the best speed -possible, and soon reached the tunnel into which the river disappeared. -Producing his electric torch, the Major prepared to lead the way. He -lingered for just a moment to gaze back into the canyon which was now -enveloped in the violet haze of eventide. - -“Is it not lovely?” he murmured. “Alas, that such a place of -perfect peace and beauty should come to be deserted and despoiled!” - -Roderick was fingering the slugs of gold in his pocket. He followed the -direction of the Major’s eyes. - -“Yes, it is all very beautiful,” he replied. “But scenery is -scenery, Major, and gold is gold.” - -The little torch flashed like an evening star as they disappeared into -the grotto. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick had gazed up the canyon. - -But they had failed to observe two human forms crouched among the -brushwood not fifty yards away—the forms of Bud Bledsoe and Grady, who -had that morning tracked the Major from his home to the falls, under the -cataract, through the rock gallery, right into the hidden canyon, intent -on discovering the secret whence the carload of rich ore had come, bent -on revenge for Grady’s undoing with the smelting company when the -proper moment should arrive. - -That night Buell Hampton, Roderick Warfield, and Grant Jones supped -frugally at the hunter’s hut on ham sandwiches and coffee. Down in -Hidden Valley on the gold-strewn sandbar W. B. Grady and his henchman -feasted royally on venison steaks cut from the fat buck Roderick’s -gun had provided. They had already torn down the location notices and -substituted their own. And far into the night by the light of their camp -fire the claim-jumpers searched for the nuggets among the pebbles and -gathered them into a little heap, stopping only from their frenzied -quest to take an occasional gulp of whiskey from the big flask without -which Bud Bledsoe never stirred. When daylight broke, exhausted, -half-drunk, both were fast asleep beside the pile of stolen gold. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE - -DURING the night a few flakes of snow had fallen—just the flurry of -a storm that had come and tired and paused to rest awhile. The morning -broke grey and sombre and intensely still; the mantle of white that -covered the ground and clung to bushes and tree branches seemed to -muffle every sound; the atmosphere was clear, but filled with brooding -expectancy. - -The three friends at the hunter’s hut were early astir. Roderick, -despite the fact that fortune had at last smiled and crowned with -success the prolonged quest for his father’s lost mine, was strangely -oppressed. Buell Hampton, too, was grave and inclined to silence. But -Grant Jones was gay and happy, singing blithely during the preparations -for breakfast. - -On the previous night he had received the story of the find with -exultant delight. With such a rich mining claim all the ambitions of his -life were about to be realized. He would buy out his financial partners -in the Dillon Doublejack and publish it as a daily newspaper—hang -the expense, the country would grow and with it the circulation, and he -would be in possession of the field against all-comers. Then again he -would acquire the Encampment Herald although keeping on the brilliant -Earle Clemens as editor; also start another paper at Rawlins, and in -a little time run a whole string of journals, like some of the big -newspaper men whose names were known throughout the nation. Listening -to these glowing plans as they drank their morning coffee around the -campfire, Roderick and the Major could not but admire the boyish gaiety -of this sanguine spirit. - -“I’m going to propose to Dorothy tomorrow,” exclaimed Grant by -way of grand finale to his program of great expectations, “and the -Reverend Stephen Grannon will marry us before the week is out We’ll -spend our honeymoon in Chicago so that I can buy some new printing -presses and things. Then we’ll be back in time to bring out a grand -mid-winter number that will make all Wyoming sit up and take notice. By -gad, boys, it’s great to be a newspaper editor.” - -“Better to be a newspaper proprietor,” laughed Roderick. - -“Or both combined,” suggested the Major. - -“There you’ve hit it,” cried Grant. “And that’s just the luck -that has come my way at last—thanks to you, Roderick, old scout, and -to you, Major, as well.” - -“No, no,” protested Buell Hampton. “With your happy disposition -and great capacity for work, success was bound to be yours, my dear -fellow. The manner of its coming is a mere detail.” - -“That’s the way a good friend cloaks good deeds,” replied Grant. -“However, we’ll let it go at that. Pass the frying pan please; this -bacon’s just fine.” Plans for the day were carefully discussed. The -man in charge of the burros had not been taken into their confidence; as -a member of the expedition he would be properly looked after later on, -but meanwhile strict secrecy was the only wise policy until the location -papers had been properly filed at the county seat, Rawlins. This -filing would undoubtedly be the signal for a rush of all the miners and -prospectors within a hundred miles of the little treasure valley among -the hills. - -“Yes, there will be a regular stampede,” remarked the -Major—“provided the snow holds off,” he added with a glance at the -grey canopy of cloud overhead. - -“I think we are in for another storm,” said Grant, gazing around. -“If so, the whole country will be sealed up until the spring.” - -“Which is not the worst thing that might happen,” commented Buell -Hampton. - -“Would certainly give us ample time to make all our arrangements for -the future,” concurred Roderick. - -It was agreed that they would take with them that morning the sacks in -which the provisions had been brought up, and bring back as much gold -as they could carry. For a moment Grant and Roderick discussed the -advisability of leaving their guns behind. But there were outlaws among -the mountains, and it was deemed prudent to carry the weapons. - -All preparations were now completed, and a start was made, the stableman -being left in charge of the camp with instructions to have a good fire -of embers ready for the brisket of venison they would return with about -the noontide hour. - -Buell Hampton led the way at a swinging gait, - -Roderick followed, then came Grant Jones singing lustily: - - -“As I was coming down the road, - -Tired team and a heavy load, - -I cracked my whip and the leader sprang - -And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.” - - -A little way down the hill Grant called a halt He had discovered on the -light dusting of overnight snow the tracks of a big bear, and for the -moment everything else was forgotten. Bear-hunting to him was of more -immediate interest than gold-hunting, and but for the restraining hand -of Buell Hampton the ardent young sportsman would have started on the -trail. - -“Let’s stop a while,” he pleaded. “Just look at those pads. A -great big cinnamon bear—a regular whale.” - -“No, no,” said the Major decisively, again glancing at the sky. -“We must press on.” - -“I’d like a hug all right,” laughed Roderick, “but not from a -cinnamon bear in a snowdrift.” - -“Gee, but I’m sorry I left my dogs at Dillon,” remarked Grant -regretfully. “The last thing I said to Scotty Meisch was to look after -the dogs even if the printing press burned. There’s no friend like a -good dog, Major.” - -“Rather a doubtful compliment,” replied Buell Hampton with a smile. - -“Present company always excepted,” laughed the editor adroitly. -“Well, well; we must let Mr. Bruin go this time. Lead on, Macduff, -lead on.” - -And again as he fell into Indian file he sang his song. - -The lilt and the words of that song, the picture of the stalwart figure -in the pride of young manhood carolling gaily while marching along -through the brushwood and down the timbered hillside, were des-tined -never to fade from the memory of Roderick Warfield. With a sob in his -heart he would recall the scene many and many a time in the days to -come. - -Meanwhile at the camp fire in Hidden Valley, Grady and Bud Bledsoe were -also afoot. They had awaked from their half drunken slumber, chilled to -the very marrow of their bones. Even the sight of the heap of nuggets -could not at first restore warmth to their hearts. There was no whiskey -left in the flask—not a drain. Their teeth chattering, they piled -fresh brush on the camp fire, and then a half-rotted tree stump that -soon burst into flame. Then when warmth at last crept through their -frames, they too made their plans for the day. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick Warfield might come back. Perhaps they had -camped all night in the mountain cave. In any case it would be safer to -leave the canyon by the other way—by the trail along which Roderick -must have entered and which was quite clearly defined in the snow as it -led up the gorge. Yes; they would clear out in that direction, and Bud -Bledsoe, who knew every track among the mountains, further proposed that -they would then cross the range and take the west road to Rawlins. With -a price on his head he himself could not enter the town—although a -little later some of the new-found gold would square all that, for the -present he must lie low. But he would guide Grady on the way, and the -latter would get into Rawlins first and file the location papers without -anyone at Encampment knowing that he had made the trip. - -“That’s the dope,” cried Bud Bledsoe, as he jumped to his feet and -began stuffing his pockets to their fullest capacity with the big and -little slugs of gold. Grady followed his example. Then both men took up -their guns, Bledsoe also the light but strong hair lariat which was his -constant companion whether he was on horse or foot, and began making -their way up the canyon, following the well-trodden path through the -snow along which Buell Hampton and Roderick had retraced their footsteps -the evening before. - -It was a couple of hours later when the Major, Grant Jones, and Roderick -emerged from the grotto. - -“Good heavens!” exclaimed the Major. “Look there!” And with -extended arm he pointed to the ascending smoke of the camp fire higher -up the valley. - -With the caution of deerstalkers they ascended by the stream. They -found that the camp fire was abandoned. The half-gnawed bones, the empty -whiskey flask, the remnant heap of nuggets, the hollows on the sand -where the two men had slept—all helped to tell the tale. The names on -the substituted location papers completed the story—W. B. Grady’s -name and those of some dummies to hold the ground, illegally but to hold -it all the same. Bud Bledsoe, the outlaw, had not ventured to affix his -own name, but the big whiskey bottle left little doubt as to who had -been Grady’s companion in the canyon overnight. - -The miscreants had departed—the tracks of two men were clearly shown -at a little distance from those left by Roderick and the Major. They had -ascended the gorge. - -“We have them trapped like coyotes,” declared the Major, -emphatically. - -“I’m not so sure about that,” remarked Grant Jones. “If there is -one man in this region who knows the mountain trails and mountain craft -it is Bud Bledsoe. He’ll get out of a box canyon where you or I would -either break our necks to a certainty or remain like helpless frogs at -the bottom of a well. Then I’ve got another idea—a fancy, perhaps, -but I—don’t—just—know.” - -He spoke slowly, an interval between each word, conning the chances -while he prolonged his sentence. - -“What’s your idea?” asked Roderick. But the Major waited in -silence. - -At last Grant’s face lighted up. - -“Yes, by jingo,” he cried, “that may be their plan. If they can -get over the range on to the Ferris-Haggerty road they may make Rawlins -by the western route. That’s why they may have gone up the canyon -instead of returning by the cave. For they came in by the cave; it is -you they followed yesterday, Major, into the valley. The tracks show -that.” - -“I have already satisfied myself on that point,” replied Buell -Hampton. “I have no doubt, since we balked Bledsoe in his previous -attempt, that he has been on my tracks ever since, determined to -find out where I got the rich ore. But it surprises me that a man in -Grady’s position should have descended to be the associate of such a -notorious highwayman.” - -“Oh, moral turpitude makes strange bedfellows,” said Grant, pointing -to the depressions where the two claim-jumpers had slept “But there -is no use in indulging in conjectures at the present time. I’ve a -proposal to make.” - -“Let us hear it,” said the Major. - -“Luckily I brought my skis with me, strapped to one of the burros. -Didn’t know when they might come handy amid all this snow. Well, -I’ll go back to the hut, and I’ll cut across the range, and -will intercept these damned robbers, if that’s their game, to a -certainty.” - -“Rather risky,” remarked Buell Hampton. “Feels like more snow.” -And he sniffed the ambient air. - -“Oh, I’ll be all right. And you’ve got to take risks too. I’ll -give Roderick my rifle, Major, and you take your own. You can follow the -trail of these men, and if they have got out of the canyon, then you can -get out the same way too. If so, we’ll all meet on the range above. -Roderick, you know where the Dillon Trail crosses the Ferris-Haggerty -Road?” - -Roderick nodded assent. - -“Well, we can’t miss each other if we all make for that point. And -if you don’t arrive by noon, I’ll go right on to Rawlins by the -western road, and lodge our location papers. I’ll know you have -Bledsoe and Grady trapped and are holding the ground.” - -“Sounds feasible,” said Roderick. “But first of all we’ve got to -tear down these fraudulent location notices and put our own up -again.” He pointed to one of the corner stakes. “Just look—these -claim-jumpers came provided with regular printed forms.” - -“Well, go ahead with that right now,” said Grant. “No doubt the -papers have been changed too down on the Major’s ground. When you’re -through with that job, follow the trail up the canyon. Now I’m off -for my skis, and then for the road over the hills. Good-by. Take care of -yourselves. Good-by.” - -And down the valley they heard his voice singing the song of the -mountain trail: - - -“As I was coming down the road, - -Tired team and a heavy load, - -I cracked my whip and the leader sprung - -And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.” - - -Then his figure disappeared round a bend, and all again was still. - -But Bledsoe and Grady had taken their time in ascending the canyon. -But at last they reached the impasse that had brought Buell Hampton and -Roderick to a halt the previous evening and caused them to retrace their -steps as the tracks revealed. Just as they were discussing whether it -might not be necessary for them also to turn back, a deer dashed wildly -past them on the narrow bench where they stood—so close that they -might have almost touched it with an outstretched hand. - -Grady jumped back, frightened by the sudden bound of the swiftly -speeding animal. - -“Do you know what that means?” asked Bledsoe quietly. - -“We started the deer, I suppose,” stammered Grady. - -“No. But someone else did—lower down the gorge. We are being -trailed, boss. We’ve got to get out of this hole in double-quick time -or chance being shot down from behind a rock.” - -“This wall is impossible,” exclaimed Grady, his frightened face -gazing up the cliff. - -Bledsoe was surveying the situation. - -“Wait a minute,” he said at last. Then he swung his lariat, the -noose of which, going straight to its mark, caught a projecting tree -stump full fifty feet above. - -“If you can make that,” he added, as he pulled the rope tight, -“there’s a ledge running right around and up—see?” He pointed -with his finger, tracing a line along the rocky wall. “Now up you go. -I’ll hold the rope. It’s dead easy.” - -Grady dropped his rifle, and with both hands began to climb. Weighted -with the gold in his pockets, he made the ascent slowly and laboriously. -But at last he gained the ledge, and scrambling now on hands and knees -as he moved further upward and onward he speedily disappeared over the -rim of the cliff. - -On Bledsoe’s lips was a smile of cold contempt. - -“Hell!” he muttered. “I wanted him to pull up the junk first. -However, I’ll manage, I guess.” - -He proceeded to tie to the riata his own and Grady’s rifle. Then he -swung himself aloft. - -But he was not half way up when a rifle bullet flattened itself on the -rock not a foot from his head. - -“Hands up!” came a voice from below. - -“By God, ain’t they up now?” muttered the outlaw grimly, as he -jerked himself to a higher foothold. A few more springs and he was -standing on the ledge. Then, when a second bullet knocked off his hat, -he ducked and scurried along the narrow footway almost as quickly as -Grady had done, and was gone from the view of the two riflemen lower -down the canyon. - -“Come on,” exclaimed Roderick. “They don’t seem to have any -guns. We’ll get them yet.” - -Buell Hampton followed to the foot of the cliff. The rifles tied to the -lariat showed that the fugitives were in truth disarmed, so far at least -as long-distance weapons were concerned. The Major carefully hid the -rifles in a clump of brushwood. - -They were now prepared to follow, but caution had to be used, for Bud -Bledsoe no doubt had a brace of revolvers at his belt. Roderick climbed -up the rope first, while Buell Hampton, with his Springfield raised, -kept watch for the slightest sign of an enemy above. But the fugitives -had not lingered. Roderick, from the edge of the cliff, called on the -Major to make the ascent, and a few minutes later they stood side by -side. - -High up on the snow-clad face of the mountain were the fleeing figures -of Grady and Bledsoe. Yes, they were making in the direction of the -Ferris-Haggerty Road. Grant would certainly intercept them, while -Roderick and the Major stalked the quarry from the rear. - -“I intend to get that thousand-dollar reward for Bud Bledsoe’s -hide,” laughed Roderick, slipping a cartridge into the chamber of his -rifle. - -“We must not shoot to kill,” replied the Major. “It will be -sufficient that they surrender. We have them at our mercy. Come -along.” - -He advanced a few paces, then paused. - -“But there,” he murmured, “I do not like this snow.” He held out -his hand, and a first soft feathery flake settled on his palm. - -“Oh, well be all right,” cried Roderick. “Besides we’ve got to -help Grant.” - -They trudged along, walking zig-zag up the hill to lessen the incline, -but always keeping close to the trail of the men they were pursuing. On -the plateau above the snow lay deeper, and at places they were knee-deep -in the drift, their feet breaking through the thin encrusting surface -which frost had hardened. - -“It is a pity we have not web snowshoes or skis,” remarked Buell -Hampton when they had paused to draw breath. “We could make so much -better time.” - -“Well, the other fellows are no better equipped than ourselves,” -replied Roderick, philosophically. “But, by jingo, it’s snowing some -now.” - -Yes, the feathery flakes were all around them, not blindingly thick as -yet, but certain precursors of the coming storm. The trail was still -quite clear although the fugitives were no longer in sight. - -An hour passed, two hours, three hours—and hunters and hunted still -plodded on. Roderick felt no misgivings, for he could tell from the -lie of the hills that they were making steadily for the junction of -the Ferris-Haggerty Road with the track over the range to Dillon, where -Grant Jones would now be waiting. But at last the snow began to fall -more thickly, and the encircling mountains came to be no longer visible. -Even the guiding footprints were becoming filled up and difficult to -follow. - -All at once Buell Hampton stopped. - -“These men have lost their way,” he exclaimed. - -“They are going round in a circle. Look here—they have crossed their -own track.” - -The evidence was unmistakable. - -“Then what are we to do?” asked Roderick. “I suppose we hardly -know where we are ourselves now,” he added, looking uneasily around. - -“I have my pocket compass—luckily I never travel without it in the -mountains. But I think it is prudent that we should lose no further time -in making for Encampment.” - -“And Grant Jones?” - -“He can look after himself. He is on skis, and knows every foot of the -Dillon trail.” - -“Then Grady and Bledsoe?” - -“Their fate is in other hands. If we follow them any longer we will -undoubtedly be caught in the storm ourselves.” He held a hand aloft. -“See, the wind is rising. There will be heavy drifting before long.” -Roderick now felt the swirl of driven snow on his cheeks. Yes, the wind -had risen. - -“But we’ll endeavor to save them,” continued Buell Hampton. -“Perhaps, as they are circling round, they are not far away from this -spot even now. We will try at all events.” - -And raising both hands to form a voice trumpet, he uttered a loud: -“Hallo I hallo!” - -But no answer came. Again he shouted, again and yet again, turning round -in all directions. Everything remained silent and still. - -The Major now glanced at his compass, and took his bearings. - -“Come,” was all he said, as he led the way through the loose crisp -snow that crunched and cheeped beneath their feet. - -Half an hour later the storm by some strange vagary abated. The wind was -blowing stronger, but it seemed to be driving the snow-laden clouds up -into the higher mountain elevations. All of a sudden a penetrating shaft -of sunshine flashed through the dancing snow-flakes, then the flakes -themselves ceased to fall, and the sun was shining on the virgin mantle -of white that enveloped range and peaks as far as the eye could see. - -Roderick glanced down the mountain side. Almost beneath his feet was -Conchshell Ranch—he could see the home on the little knoll amid the -clustering pine trees. For the moment he was thinking of Gail. But the -hand of Buell Hampton had clutched his shoulder. - -“Look!” - -And Roderick looked—away in the direction of Cow Creek Canyon, a -mighty gash in the flank of the mountains nearly a thousand feet deep -and more than half a mile across. Standing out, clear and distinct in -the bright sunshine, were the tall twin towers on either side of the -gorge, supporting the great steel cable which bridged the chasm -and carried the long string of iron buckets bringing ore from the -Ferris-Haggerty mine, fourteen miles distant, down into the smelter -at Encampment. Roderick at his first glance saw that the aerial cars, -despite the recent snow-storm, were still crawling across the deep -canyon, for all the world like huge spiders on a strand of gossamer. - -But as his eyes swept the landscape he beheld outlined on the white -expanse of snow the figures of three men. One, standing fully a -hundred yards away from the other two and lower down the hill, was the -gorilla-like form of Bud Bledsoe. The others were Grady and Grant Jones -on his skis. - -And as Roderick looked, before he could even utter a cry, these two -figures clutched at each other. For a moment they swayed to and fro, -then Grant seemed to fling his man away from him. - -Almost at the same instant, just as a picture might be blotted from a -screen by cutting off the light, both figures had vanished! Then, like -steam shot from a geyser, there ascended high into mid-air a great -cloud of powdered snow, and to the watchers’ ears came a deep boom -resembling the prolonged and muffled roar of thunder or big artillery. - -“Good God! A snow slide!” gasped Buell Hampton. - -Roderick was stricken dumb. He stood rigid, frozen with horror. He -needed no one to tell him that Grant Jones had gone over the rim of the -canyon, down a thousand feet, smothered under a million tons of snow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES - -EARLY the following morning several hundred searchers were at the scene -of the snow slide in Cow Creek Canyon. Every precaution was taken not to -have anyone walk along near the rim of the gorge a thousand feet above. -There were still hundreds of thousands of tons of snow on the narrow -plateau at the top, which any disturbance, even no greater than a stone -thrown by the hands of a child, might start moving. If another slide -should occur it would overwhelm and crush the intrepid searchers below. - -A systematic probing of the snow with long iron rods had been begun at -once and kept up perseveringly until three o’clock in the afternoon. -Then one of the searchers touched clothing or something with his rod. -The snow was quickly shoveled aside, and at a depth of about seven feet -the body of Grant Jones was found lying flat upon his back with his -right arm stretched out above his head, the left doubled under him. The -face was quite natural—it wore a peaceful smile. None of his clothing -had been disturbed or tom—even his cap and his skis were in place. The -poor fellow had simply been crushed to death or smothered by the many -tons of snow. - -Immediately a makeshift sled was constructed by strapping two skis -together sideways. On this the body was taken up the steep hills by a -cautiously selected route to Battle, three and a half miles away, and -thence on to Encampment, twelve miles farther, the improvised sled being -drawn all the way by strong and willing men of the hills. Accompanying -the remains were Roderick Warfield, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, and other -faithful friends, while following came a great cortege of miners, mill -hands, and mountaineers. - -It was midnight before the mournful procession reached town. And -awaiting it even at that late hour was a dense crowd, standing with -bared heads and tear-stained faces. For in all the hill country the -name of Grant Jones was a household word. His buoyant good-nature was -recognized by everyone, and probably he did not have an enemy in all -southern Wyoming where his brief manhood life had been spent. Fully a -thousand people, of both sexes, of all classes and all ages, formed -the escort of the little funeral sled on its last stage to the -undertaker’s establishment. Here the body was received by Major Buell -Hampton and the Reverend Stephen Grannon. It had been the Major’s duty -that day to seek out the clergyman and bring him down in a sledge from -the hills to administer the last sad rites for their dear dead friend. - -Next day the search was resumed for Grady’s remains. Bud Bledsoe it -was known had escaped—the Major had seen him running downhill after -the disaster and others had tracked his footprints, to lose them in a -clump of timber. So there was only one more body to be recovered. The -task of probing with the long iron rods went on for several hours. The -searchers knew the necessity of working both carefully and with speed, -for another snow slide was imminent. And at last it came, toward the -noon hour. But warning had been passed along, so that no lives were -sacrificed, the only result being to pile a veritable mountain of -snow over the spot where Grady’s body presumably lay. The search -was abandoned, without regret on anyone’s part; in the spring the -avalanche would give up its dead; until then the mortal remains of the -unpopular and disgraced capitalist could well remain in their temporary -sepulchre of snow, “unwept, unhonored, and unsung.” - -But for Grant Jones there was public mourning, deep, sincere, and -solemn. Toward evening the whole town of Encampment seemed to be wending -their way to the little church where the Reverend Stephen Gran-non -was to preach the funeral sermon. And these are the words which the -venerable Flockmaster spoke to the hushed and sorrowing congregation. - -“My friends, our hearts today commune with the battalions who have -‘crossed over.’ Love broods above the sleeping dust in a service of -tears. The past is a dream—the future a mystery. Sometimes the tides -of dissolution creep upon us silently. Again they are as stormy seas and -rough breakers that sweep all with reckless cruelty into oblivion. But -whether the parting be one way or the other, in peacefulness or in the -savagery of a storm, to loving hearts it is ever a tragedy. - -“The grief which is ours today is as old as the ages. It brings us -into fellowship with the centuries. We know now why Eve wept for Abel -and David lamented Absalom. Death is the most ancient sculptor in -the world. Ever since men lived and died, death has made each grave -a gallery and filled it with a silent statue. Death hides faults and -magnifies virtues. Death conceals the failings of those who have -passed while lovingly and enduringly chiselling their noble traits of -character. - -“Centuries of philosophy have not succeeded in reconciling men to the -sorrows of dissolution. Death makes us all equal with a mutual sorrow. -We cannot forget our friend who rests here in his final sleep. In happy -symbolism his shroud was whitest snow, and love thrills our hearts with -sympathetic memory. Such love is the kindest service of the soul. - -“Affection for those who have departed has built the mausoleums of the -world and makes every monument an altar of grief. Whether the hope of -immortality is a revelation or an intuition is not under consideration -today. Each man believeth for himself. We know that primitive man away -back in Egypt buried his dead on the banks of the Nile and thought of -immortality. We know that love throughout the ages has touched the heart -with its wings, and hope from the beginning to the end whispers to us -that ‘if a man die he shall live again.’ I believe that the doctrine -of evolution gives a potent hope of immortality. Evolution takes the mud -of the lake and makes a water lily—the hollow reed in the hand of the -savage grows into a modern flute—the rude marks of primitive man -in the stone age become poems and anthems in our own age. If mist can -become stars—if dust can become worlds—if the immortality of biology -is a truism—if love can come from sensations, if the angel of the -brain can spring into being from simple cells, why then cannot the soul -endure forever although undergoing transitions in the course of its -divine development? - -“I believe in the immortality of the soul. I believe in the religion -of humanity. Yes, on the far away rim of eternity, Faith seeks a -beckoning hand and the human heart pulses anew with inspiration and -unfaltering belief in the immortality of the soul. Let us believe -there are songs sung and harps touched and kisses given and greetings -exchanged in that other world. It is better that all other words should -turn to ashes upon the lips of man rather than the word immortality. Our -hearts once filled with this belief—this great truth—then every tear -becomes a jewel, the darkest night flees before the breaking dawn and -every hope turns into reality. - -“Before us, my friends, lies the dust of the dead—Grant Jones. Away -from home—away from father and mother, brother and sister—far up -in these hills where the shoulders of the mountains are clothed with -treacherous banks of sliding snow—he was here seeking to carve out a -destiny for himself, in the morning of early manhood. The Kismet of his -life, clothed in mystery, caused him to lay down his tools and leave to -others his but partially accomplished mission. He was journeying upward -toward life’s mountain-crest—already the clouds were below him and -the stars about him. For do we not know from his gifted writings that -this man held communion with the gods? His heart beat full of loftiest -hope. And then—even before high twelve—he fell asleep. He is gone; -but a myriad of memories of his achievements gather thick about us. We -see him as he was, and this virion will abide with us throughout the -years. - -“He was a student and a scholar. He read books that had souls in -them—he read books that converse with the hearts of men and speak to -them of an exalted life—a life that unfolds an ethical and a higher -duty incumbent upon the children of men. He knew much about the -literature of his day—was acquainted with the great authors through -their writings. Keats was his favorite poet, Victor Hugo his favorite -prose author and ‘Les Misérables’ his favorite book. Music had -a thrilling charm for him. To his heart it was the language of the -eternal. He heard songs in the rocks of towering cliffs, in primeval -forests, in deep gorges, in night winds, in browned grasses and in -tempestuous storms and in the pebbled mountain brooks. - -“We need have no fear for his future, my friends—with him all is -well. A heroic soul, a matchless man, cannot be lost. His heart was a -fountain of love. Virtue was his motto—hope his star—love his guide. -Farewell, Grant, farewell. When with the silent boatman we too shall -cross the river of death and steal away into the infinite, we believe -that you will be standing there in the rosy dawn of eternity to welcome -us, to renew the sweet ties of love and friendship that here on earth -have bound our hearts to yours.” - -Thus spoke the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the Flockmaster of the Hills. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO - -DOROTHY mourned for Grant Jones—for days she wept and would not be -consoled. Roderick had not seen her since the disaster; when he had -called at the ranch Barbara had brought a message from her room that she -dared not trust herself yet to speak to anyone, least of all to the one -whom she knew to have been Grant’s closest and dearest friend. - -Roderick had now taken apartments in the Bonhomme Hotel—it would -have been too heartrending an experience to return to the shack where -everything was associated with the memory of his lost comrade. It had -been his painful task to pack the books, the little ornaments, the -trophies of the chase, the other odds and ends of sacred relics, and -send them back East to the old folks at home. He had known it to have -been Grant’s own wish that, when death should come, his body should -rest among the hills of Wyoming. So when a simple headstone had been -placed on the grave in God’s acre at Encampment, the last sad duty -had been performed. Grief was now deadened. The sweet pleasures of fond -reminiscence remained, the richest legacy that man can leave behind him. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick never met without speaking of Grant, without -recalling some pleasant episode in their association, some brilliant or -thoughtful contribution he had made to their past conversations. With -the aid of fragments of torn paper that had been clutched in the dead -man’s left hand, the hand that had been doubled under him when the -body was found, they had pieced together the story of that fateful -encounter with Grady. The latter, bent on discovering and jumping Buell -Hampton’s secret mine, had carried into the mountains the proper -declaration papers in printed forms, with only the blanks to be filled -in—name, date, exact location, etc. Grant must have become aware that -these papers were all ready signed in Grady’s pocket—perhaps -in defiance the claim-jumper had flaunted them in his face. For the -struggle had been for the possession of these documents, the torn -quarters of which were still in Grant’s hand when the fatal -dislodgement of snow had taken place. The full infamy of Grady’s long -contrived plot was revealed. Righteously indeed had he gone to his doom. - -A week had passed when Roderick found a letter on the breakfast table at -his hotel. It was from Barbara Shields. - -“My dear Mr. Warfield:— - -“I write to tell you that we are going to California—to spend -the winter in Los Angeles. We are all sorrow-stricken over the great -calamity up in the hills, and Dorothy—the poor dear girl is simply -stunned. I have known for a long while that she was very fond of Grant, -but I had no idea of the depths of her feelings. - -“Papa says Mama and I must start at once and endeavor to cheer up -Dorothy and help her forget as much as possible the sadness of this -terrible affair. - -“Mr. Bragdon called last night, and is to be our escort to the coast. -We shall probably return about the first of May. Please accept this as -an affectionate good-by for the time being from us all. - -“With cordial good wishes, - -“Sincerely your friend, - -“Barbara.” - -Meanwhile snow had been descending off and on day after day, until now -the whole of the mountain country was effectively sealed. Evidently a -rigorous winter had set in, and it would be many months before Hidden -Valley would be again accessible. Roderick was not sorry—the very -mention of gold and mining had become distasteful to his ears. Even when -with the Major, they, never now spoke about the secret canyon and its -hoarded treasures—in subtle sympathy with each other’s feelings the -subject was tabooed for the present Bud Bledsoe had disappeared from the -district, no doubt temporarily enriched by the nuggets with which he had -filled his pockets. In the spring most likely he would return and rally -his gang of mountain outlaws. But until then there need be no worry -about the snow-enshrouded claims, the location papers for which had -been now duly registered at the county seat in the names of their proper -owners. - -Buell Hampton had his books and his work for the poor wherewith to -occupy his mind. Roderick found his consolation at the smelter. Early -and late now he worked there, learning the practical operations -from Boney Earnest, mastering the business details with the aid of a -trustworthy old clerk whose services had been retained as secretary. -Boney, having been made the choice of his brother foremen in accordance -with the new plan of operations, was duly confirmed in his position of -general manager, while Roderick, formally elected vice-president by the -board, held the salaried and responsible post of managing-director. - -Major Hampton withdrew himself more and more into the seclusion of his -library; he rarely came to the smelter plant; he left everything in -Roderick’s hands once he had become satisfied of the young man’s -aptitude for the work; he was content to read the managing director’s -weekly report showing steady progress all along the line—increased -output, decreased operating costs, large reductions in waste and -breakages, in a word the all-round benefits resulting from friendly -cooperation between capital and labor, no longer treating each other -as enemies, but pulling together in happy conjunction and for mutual -advantage. - -Another circumstance contributing to the general harmony of the -community was the departure of W. Henry Carlisle, the deposed attorney -of the smelter company. One of Senator Greed’s hirelings, Carlisle had -been rewarded by that master of political jobbery with a judgeship in -Alaska. Thus was the whole country made to pay the price of shameful -underhand services that had tainted the very atmosphere and might well -have caused the man in the moon to hold his nose when crossing the state -of Wyoming. - -However, Carlisle’s going put an end to much bitterness and squabbling -in Encampment, and now month succeeded month in peaceful routine. As -both smelter and mine were now working Sundays as well as week days, -Roderick could rarely take a day off—or at least he would not allow -himself a day off. - -However, along with Major Buell Hampton he was the guest of Mr. Shields -for Christmas Day dinner, and learned the latest news of the exiles in -California; that mother and daughters were well, Dorothy something like -her old happy self if chastened with a sorrow that would always leave -its memory, and all thoroughly enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of a -winter of warmth and perpetual sunshine. There was another item in Mr. -Shields’ budget. Whitley Adams had spent a month in the capital of -the southwest, had brought along his big touring car, and had given the -girls no end of a good time. - -“What took him to Los Angeles?’ asked Roderick. - -“Oh, important banking business, Barbara says,” replied Mr. Shields -quite innocently. - -Roderick smiled. “Would Dorothy be consoled,” he asked himself. The -enterprising youth certainly deserved the prize; Roderick recalled -the mirthful warning sent to dear old Grant in the latter’s dilatory -courting days about the tempting peach and the risk of a plundering -hand. Indeed Whitley and Grant had been wonderfully akin in their boyish -good-nature and irrepressible enthusiasm. With Grant gone, it seemed -quite natural that Whitley and Dorothy should be drawn together. -Roderick could wish no greater happiness for Dorothy, no better luck for -his old college chum. Such was the train of his musing the while -Buell Hampton and their host were discussing the wonderful growth and -unbounded future of Los Angeles, the beautiful city of garden homes and -cultured family life. - -For New Year’s Day Roderick was invited to the Holdens’ place, and -spent a delightful afternoon and evening. Gail sang and played, and the -General seemed to be mightily interested in all the wonderful results -being achieved at the smelter under the new régime. Gail listened -somewhat distrait, but when the conversation about ores and fluxes -and cupola furnaces and all that sort of thing seemed likely to be -indefinitely prolonged she stole back to her piano and began singing to -herself, soft and low. - -And presently, while the General meandered on in a disquisition about -refractory ores, Roderick was no longer paying attention. He was -listening to the warbling of a thrush in the forest, and his straining -ears caught the words of the song—“Just a-Wearyin’ for You.” A -thrill ran through his nerves. He excused himself to the General, -and crossed over to the piano. Gail instantly changed her song; by a -skillful transition she was humming now, “Ye Banks and Braes o’ -Bonnie Dhon.” But their eyes met, and she blushed deeply. - -During the following weeks Roderick thought much and often about the -beautiful Gail Holden, and occasionally now he would relax from business -duties to enjoy a gallop with her on a sunny afternoon over the foothill -ranges. They talked on many themes, and, although words of love were -as yet unspoken, there came to them the quiet sense of happiness in -companionship, of interest in each other’s thoughts and undertakings, -of mutual understanding that they were already closer and dearer to each -other than friendship alone could make them. - -Spring was now rapidly approaching. The meadowlarks were singing, and -the grass beginning to grow green in the valleys and foothills, the wild -flowers to paint the slopes and dells in vivid colors. General Holden -had several days before gone to San Francisco, to visit his brother -there in regard to some family business. Gail had been unable to -accompany her father; she had declared that the little ranch at this -season required all her attention. To comfort her in her loneliness -Roderick had promised to go riding with her for an hour or two every -afternoon. This pleasant duty had been properly fulfilled for several -days, and one afternoon, with Badger ready saddled in front of his -office, the young vice-president of the smelter company was just -clearing up a few items of business at his desk before mounting and -taking the road for the Conchshell Ranch. - -A telegram was laid at his hand. He opened it casually, talking the -while with Boney Earnest. But when he saw the name on the slip of paper, -he started erect. The message was from Gail, and had come from Rawlins: -“My father is in hospital, having met with a street accident in San -Francisco. Have just had time to catch the afternoon train at Rawlins. -My address will be the Palace Hotel. Will telegraph news about father on -arrival.” - -“Good God!” exclaimed Roderick. “She has taken that journey alone. -And no one to help her in her trouble and sorrow.” - -There was no alternative—he could but wait with all the patience -he could command for the next day’s overland. For he had instantly -resolved to follow Gail. Like a flash had come the revelation how deeply -he loved the girl; it had only needed the presence of tribulation to -cause the long-smouldering spark of the fire divine in his heart to leap -into flame—to make him realize that, come weal, come woe, his place -now was by her side. - -That afternoon he made all his preparations for departure. The evening -he spent with Buell Hampton, and frankly told his friend of his great -love for Gail. The Major listened sympathetically. - -“All the world loves a lover,” he said, a kindly glow upon his face. -“Humanity demands, conscience approves, and good people everywhere -applaud the genial and glowing warmth of honest love of man for maid. -And I commend the choice of your heart, Roderick, for surely nowhere -can be found a finer woman than Gail Holden. Go in and win, and may good -luck follow you. For friendship’s sake, too, I think it highly proper -you should proceed at once to San Francisco and look after General -Holden. I hope he is not dangerously hurt.” - -“I have no other information except this telegram,” replied -Roderick. “But I’ll surely wire you from San Francisco.” - -Jim Rankin drove the stage next morning. Roderick took his accustomed -place on the box seat, and listened to Jim’s accustomed flow of -language on all the local topics of interest. But during the long -drive of fifty miles there was only one little part of the one-sided -conversation that Roderick ever remembered. - -“Yes, siree,” Jim said, “all the folks is readin’ books these -days. I myself have took the craze—I’ve got a book about the horse -out of our new libr’y an’ I’ll be dog-busted if I ever knew the -critter had so many bones. Tom Sun is readin’ about wool growin’ in -Australia, and is already figgerin’ on gettin’ over Tasmanian merino -blood for his flocks. And I’m danged if old Wren the saloon-keeper -ain’t got stuck with a volume on temperance. ‘Ten Bar-Rooms in -One Night’. no, by gunnies, that’s not it—’Ten Nights in a -Bar-Room’—now I’ve got it right Guess it will do him a power -o’ good too. Then all the young fellers have started goin’ to night -classes. I tell you the Reverend Grannon with his schools an’ his -libr’ies is just workin’ wonders. An’ who do you think is his -right hand man, or boy, or devil—call him which you like?” - -“Who?” asked Roderick vaguely. - -“Scotty Meisch, that little tad of a cow-puncher you and poor old -Grant Jones took up and made a printer’s devil of. Well, the parson -got his hooks in him and tells me he’s turned out to be a first-class -organizer—that’s his word. It’s Scotty who goes around, starts -each new lib’iy, and sets the machin’ry goin’ smooth an’ proper. -It’s a case of a round peg in a round hole, although who the hell -would have thought it?” - -Roderick was pleased to hear this good news of Scotty Meisch, but, -returning to his thoughts about Gail, failed to follow Jim as the latter -switched off into another line of “unbosomings.” - -He was glad to be alone at last and in the drawing room of the Pullman -car which he had reserved by telegraph. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS - -AFTER a tedious and delayed trip of three days and nights Roderick’s -train steamed onto the mole at Oakland. During the last night he had -refused to have the berth in his drawing room made down, and had lounged -and dozed in his seat, occasionally peering out of the car window. The -hour was late—almost three o’clock in the morning. The train should -have arrived at seven o’clock the evening before. - -There was the usual scramble of disembarking, red-capped porters -pressing forward to carry hand baggage from the train to the ferryboat. - -“Last boat to San Francisco will leave in five minutes,” was shouted -from somewhere, and Roderick found himself with his valise in hand being -pushed along with the throng of passengers who had just alighted from -the train. Once on the ferryboat, he climbed to the upper deck and went -well forward for the view. The waters of the bay were illumed with a -half-crescent moon. Far across, six miles away, was San Francisco with -its innumerable lights along the waterfront and on the slopes of her -hills. To the right were Alcatras Island and the lighthouse. - -Then the sharp ping-ping of bells sounded and the great wheels of -the boat began to turn. Roderick was filled with the excitement of -an impatient lover. “Gail, Gail, Gail,” his throbbing heart kept -thrumming. Would he be able to find her? San Francisco was a strange -city to Gail as well as to himself. She had been on the train ahead of -him, and might by this time have left the Palace Hotel, the address -her telegram had given. But he had learned from one of the porters -that Gail’s train had been greatly delayed and would not have arrived -before eleven o’clock the previous night. He reasoned that she would -perforce have gone to the hotel at such a late hour, and would wait -until morning to hunt up the hospital where her father was being cared -for. - -The boat had hardly touched the slip and the apron been lowered than he -bounded forward, hastened through the ferryhouse and came out into -the open where he was greeted by the tumultuous calls of a hundred -solicitous cab-drivers. Roderick did not stand on the order of things, -but climbing into the first vehicle that offered directed to be taken to -the Palace Hotel. - -Arriving at the hotel Roderick paid his fare while the door porter -took possession of his grips. Glancing at a huge clock just over the -cashier’s desk, he noticed the hour was three-thirty a. m. Taking -the pen handed to him by the rooming clerk, he signed his name on the -register, and then let his eyes glance backward over the names of -recent arrivals. Ah, there was the signature of Gail Holden. Fortune was -favoring him and he breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness that he had -overtaken her. - -Yes, he would serve her. He would help her. She should see and she -should know without his telling her, that nothing else mattered if he -could only be with her, near her and permitted to relieve her of all -troubles and difficulties. - -“Show the gentleman to his room,” said the night clerk and bowed to -Roderick with a cordial good night. - -As Roderick turned and followed the boy to the elevator, he realized -that he was not sleepy—indeed that he was nervously alert and wide -awake. After the boy had brought a pitcher of ice-water to the room, -received his tip and departed, Roderick sat down to think it all over. -But what was the use? “I cannot see her until perhaps eight o’clock -in the morning. However, I will be on the outlook and in waiting when -she is ready for breakfast. And then—” his heart was beating fast -“I certainly am terribly upset,” he acknowledged to himself. - -Taking up his hat, he went out, locked the door, rang for the elevator -and a minute later was out on the street. He was still wearing his -costume of the mountains—coat, shirt, trousers, and puttees, all of -khaki, with a broad-brimmed sombrero to match. A little way up Market -Street he noticed a florist’s establishment. Great bouquets of -California roses were in the windows, chrysanthemums and jars of -violets. - -He walked on, deciding to provide himself later on with a floral -offering wherewith to decorate the breakfast table. He had often heard -San Francisco described as a city that turned night into day, and the -truth of the remark impressed him. Jolly crowds were going along -the streets singing in roistering fashion—everyone seemed to be -good-natured—the cafés were open, the saloon doors swung both ways -and were evidently ready for all-comers. When he came to -Tate’s restaurant, he went down the broad marble steps and -found—notwithstanding the lateness or rather earliness of the -hour—several hundred people still around the supper tables. The scene -had the appearance of a merry banquet where everyone was talking at the -same time. An air of joviality pervaded the place. The great fountain -was throwing up glittering columns of water through colored lights as -varied as the tints of a rainbow. The splash of the waters, the cool -spray, the wealth of ferns and flowers surrounding this sunken garden in -the center of a great dining room—the soft strains of the orchestra, -all combined to fill Roderick with wonder that was almost awe. He sank -into a chair at a vacant little table near the fountain and endeavored -to comprehend it all He was fresh from the brown hills, from the gray -and purple sage and the desert cacti, from the very heart of nature, so -utterly different to this spectacle of a bacchanalian civilization. - -The wilderness waif soon discovered that he would be de trop unless he -responded to the urgent inquiries of the waiter as to what he would have -to drink. - -“A bottle of White Rock to begin with,” ordered Roderick. - -As he was sipping the cold and refreshing water it occurred to him that -he had not tasted food since breakfast the day before in the dining car -of the train. Yes, he would have something to eat and he motioned to the -waiter. - -After giving his order he had to wait a long time, and the longer he -waited the hungrier he became. Presently a generous steak was placed -before him. Potatoes au gratin, olives, asparagus, and French peas made -up the side dishes, and a steaming pot of coffee completed a sumptuous -meal. - -When he had paid his check he discovered it was almost five o’clock -in the morning, and as he mounted the marble stairway he laughingly -told himself he wouldn’t have much of an appetite at seven or eight -o’clock when he came to sit down at the breakfast table with Gail -Holden. Gaining the sidewalk he found that darkness was shading into -dawn. - -Instead of returning by way of Market Street, Roderick lit a cigar and -turning to the right walked up a cross street toward the St. Francis -Hotel. In front was a beautiful little park; shrubbery and flowers lined -the winding walks, while here and there large shade trees gave an added -touch of rural charm. - -He seated himself on one of the iron benches, took out his watch and -counted up the number of minutes until, probably, he would see the -object of his heart’s desire. How slow the time was going. He heard -the laughter of a banqueting party over at the Poodle Dog, although at -the time he did not know the place by name. - -“Yes,” he murmured, “San Francisco is certainly in a class by -itself. This is the land where there is no night.” - -The contrast between the scenes in this gay city and the quiet hill -life away up among the crags, the deep canyons and snow-clad peaks of -southern Wyoming was indeed remarkable. - -It was the morning of April eighteen, 1906, and the night had almost -ended. There was a suggestion of purple on the eastern horizon—the -forerunner of coming day. The crescent moon was hanging high above Mt. -Tamalpais. - -The town clock tolled the hour of five and still Roderick waited. -Presently he was filled with a strange foreboding, a sense of -oppression, that he was unable to analyze. He wondered if it presaged -refusal of the great love surging in his heart for Gail Holden, the fair -rider of the ranges, the sweet singer of the hills. An indescribable -agitation seized him. - -The minutes went slowly by. His impatience increased. He looked again at -his watch and it was only a quarter after five. The city was wrapped in -slumber. - -Then suddenly and without warning Roderick was roughly thrown from his -seat and sent sprawling onto the grass among the shrubbery. He heard -an angry growling like the roar from some rudely awakened Goliath of -destruction deep down in earth’s inner chambers of mystery—a roar -of wrath and madness and resistless power. The ground was trembling, -reeling, upheaving, shaking and splitting open into yawning fissures, -while hideous noises were all around. Buildings about the park were -being rent asunder and were falling into shapeless heaps of ruin. - -Struggling to his feet, his first impulse was to hasten to the hotel -and protect Gail. As he arose and started to run he was again thrown to -earth. The bushes whipped the turf as if swished to and fro by an unseat -hand. For a moment Roderick was stunned into inaction—stricken with -the paralysis of unspeakable fear. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL - -IT WAS but a few seconds until Roderick was again on his feet Hurriedly -taking his bearings, he started off through the little park in the -direction of the Palace Hotel. In the uncertain morning dawn the -people from innumerable bedrooms above the stores were pouring into the -streets. They were scantily attired, most of them simply in their night -garments, and all were dazed and stunned with a terrible fright Before -Roderick had reached Market Street the thoroughfare was almost blocked -by this frantic and half-clothed mass of humanity. His powerful athletic -frame and his football experience stood him in good stead, although -here roughness had to be exchanged for greatest gentleness. He was very -persistent, however, in his determination to reach the hotel in time if -possible to be of assistance to Gail. - -Less than ten feet in front of where he was crowding his way through -the throng of people a portion of a cornice came tumbling down from -far above. A wailing cry went up from the unfortunates pinned beneath. -Roderick leaped quickly forward and with the strength of a Hercules -began to heave aside the great blocks of stone. Others recognized his -leadership, instantly obeyed his commands and lent their united strength -in helping to release three men who had been caught under debris. The -cries of the injured were piteous. Indifferent to the danger of falling -bricks and mortar Roderick caught up one poor fellow in his arms and -carried him as if he were a babe into a receding doorway. - -“My legs, my legs,” the victim moaned. “They’re -broken—they’re broken.” - -Quickly removing his coat Roderick placed it beneath the man’s head -for a pillow, and leaving others to guard, he hastened back to the scene -of the tragedy, only to find that the spark of life had now gone out -from the other two bodies pitifully maimed and crushed. - -He pushed his way into the middle of the street amid the surging mob, -and again turned his steps toward the Palace Hotel. At last he found -himself near to the entrance of the great hostelry. But everyone was -seeking to escape and rushing to the street in riotous disorder. By dint -of indefatigable efforts he managed to get within the gateway and then -to the large trysting room across the hall from the hotel office. A -group of women were endeavoring to revive a poor sufferer who evidently -had fainted. Approaching, he saw blood coursing down the fair face of -the unfortunate. - -“My God!” he exclaimed. “It is Gail.” - -An instant later he had gently pushed the helpers aside and gathered -the girl in his strong arms. Moving backwards, forcing a passage step by -step with the determination of one who acts intuitively in a crisis, -he managed to gain the open. He hoped the air would restore Gail to -consciousness. - -Crossing to the other side of the street where the throng was less dense -he started toward a high hill that rose up far away. It was covered -with residences, and if he could once reach that vantage point with his -charge he felt sure it would be an asylum of safety. The distance was -considerable and presently the way became steep. But he was unconscious -of any weight in the burden he carried. His only thought was to get Gail -away from the burning, falling buildings—away from the central part of -the city which was now a fiery pit wrapped in sheets of devouring flame. - -Finally attaining the eminence—it was Nob Hill although he did not -know the name—he found the porches and front lawns of the beautiful -houses filled with frightened people viewing the scene in awe and -amazement. Formalities were forgotten; solicitude and helpful kindness -reigned supreme among all the people of the stricken city. - -He called to a little group huddled on the front porch of their home. -“Here is a lady,” Roderick explained, “who has been injured and -fainted. Will you please get water and help to revive her?” - -In hurried eagerness to assist they quickly brought a cot to the porch -and upon this Roderick gently placed the still unconscious girl. Her -face was deathly white, and a great red gash was discovered across one -side of her head, from which the blood was trickling down the marble -cheek. The wound was bandaged by tender hands and the face laved with -cooling water. After a little Gail opened her eyes and asked piteously: -“Where am I? Where am I?” - -“You are safe,” said Roderick as he knelt by her side. - -“Oh, is it you, Mr. Warfield? How glad—how glad I am to see you. -Where am I?” - -“In San Francisco. Don’t you remember?” - -“Yes, yes, I remember now,” she replied weakly and lifted one hand -to her aching head. “But papa?—where is my father?” - -“I am going to look for him now. You are with kind people and they -will care for you. Rest quietly and be patient until I return.” - -Her dark blue eyes looked helplessly up into his for a moment; then he -turned and was gone. - -Roderick rushed down the hill, back to the scene of devastation where -he might be useful in helping to save human life, determined also in -his heart to find General Holden. But where was he? In some hospital, as -Gail’s telegram had told. - -He was debating with himself whether he should return to seek some -directions from Gail. But just then the surging, swaying crowd pushed -him irresistibly back, then swept him away along Market Street. The -Palace Hotel was on fire. Policemen and firemen were thrusting the -people away from the known danger line. - -Just then he heard a voice crying out in heart-rending anguish: “My -little girl’, my little girl.” It was a frantic mother weeping and -looking far up to the seventh story of a building she evidently had just -left. There leaning out of a window was a curly haired tot of a child, -perhaps not more than four years old, laughing and throwing kisses -toward her mama, all unconscious of danger. - -“I came down,” sobbed the weeping mother to those around, “to see -what had happened. The stairway is now on fire, and I cannot return. -Will no one, oh Lord, will no one save my little girl?” - -Roderick looked up to where the woman was pointing and saw the child. - -“My God!” he exclaimed, “smoke is coming out of the next -window.” He noticed that the adjoining building was already a mass of -fire. At a glance he took in the situation. - -“Hold on a minute,” he shouted. “I will try.” - -There was an outside fire escape that led from the top story down to -the first floor. Roderick made a leap, caught hold of the awning braces, -pulled himself up with muscles of steel, and grasped the lowermost rung -of the escape. A moment later he was making his way up the narrow -iron ladder, pushing through the aperture at each floor, with almost -superhuman swiftness. When he reached the window he lifted the child in -his arms and hastily started on the downward journey. - -“Hold tight, little girl,” was all Roderick said as he felt the -confiding clasp of her tiny arms about his neck. - -Many of the people below besides the almost frenzied mother were -watching the heroic deed with bated breath. Just then a cry of terror -went up. The great wall of a burning building across the street was -toppling outward and a moment later collapsed, burying many unhappy -victims beneath the avalanche of broken brick and mortar. - -Whether the little girl’s mother had been caught by the falling wall -or not Roderick had no means of determining. A choking cloud of dust, -ash, soot and smoke enveloped him in stifling darkness; he could hardly -breathe. The very air was heated and suffocating. But down and down he -went with his little burden clinging tightly to him. Arriving at the -awnings he swung himself over, secured a momentary foothold, then -grasped the braces with his hands and dropped to the littered sidewalk -below. - -The mother of the girl was nowhere to be seen. He turned down the street -to get away from the horrible sight of the dead and the piteous cries of -the dying. He had scarcely reached the next corner when the child, who -was mutely clinging to him as if indeed she knew he was her savior, -released her arms and called out gleefully: “Oh, there’s mama, mama, -mama.” Then the mother stood before him, weeping now for joy, and -through her tears Roderick saw a face of radiance and a smile of -gratitude that time or eternity would never erase from his memory. - -Nothing mattered now—her little girl was safe in her arms. “I -don’t know who you are, sir,” she exclaimed, “but I owe to you the -life of my child, and may the good God bless you.” - -But this was no time for thanks. Roderick was looking upward. - -“Come quickly,” he shouted, “come this way—hasten.” And he -pulled them down a side street and away from another sky-scraper that -was trembling and wavering as if about to fall. - -They turned, and ran along a street that was still free from fire and -led toward the St. Francis Hotel and the little park fronting it where -Roderick had sat at dawn. Carefully he guided the woman’s steps, -keeping to the middle of the street, for the sidewalk was encumbered -with debris and threatened by partly dislodged brickwork above. Here and -there the roadway was rumpled and rough as a washboard by reason of the -earthquake, while at places were great gaping fissures where the earth -had been split open many feet deep. But soon they were in the open -square, and mother and child were safe. Knowing this, Roderick allowed -them to pass on—to pass out of his life without even the asking or the -giving of names. - -For there was other work to his hand; he hurried back to the last -crossing. There under the fallen débris, was a woman obviously of -refinement and wealth whose life had been vanquished without warning. -One hand was extended above the wreckage. It was shapely and encircled -with a bracelet, while a single diamond solitaire ring adorned her -finger—perhaps a betrothal ring. Two human ghouls—not men—had -whipped out their ready knives and were in the very act of severing the -finger to obtain the jewel. It was these brutes that Roderick had come -back to face. - -Like a flash he leaped forward and with a well directed sledge-hammer -blow felled one of these would-be robbers of the dead. Then he grappled -with the second scoundrel. The man in his grip was none other than the -outlaw, Bud Bledsoe! - -With knife already open and in his hand the inhuman wretch slashed -Roderick’s cheek, and the red blood spurted down his face and neck. -Roderick loosed his hold and stepped back a pace—the next gash of this -kind might easily be a fatal one. But not for one instant did he lose -his presence of mind or nerve. As the cowardly miscreant advanced, cruel -murder in his eyes, Roderick by a swift swing of his right parried the -upraised hand that held the knife, and then, seizing the opening, he -delivered with his left a smashing uppercut. Bledsoe reeled for a moment -like a drunken man, then sank to the ground a huddled heap, and finally -rolled over kicking convulsively and quite insensible. - -The knockout had been effected quickly and well—like a butcher would -fell a bullock. - -Already the devastated city was under martial law, and three or four -soldiers coming hurriedly up just then, and having seen from the -opposite corner the hellish attempt of the two wretches to despoil the -dead, shot them instantly, Bledsoe where he lay writhing, the other as -he staggered dazed-like to his feet. - -Roderick wiped the blood from his face, and thanked the soldiers. -“Good for you, young fellow,” cried one of them as they continued on -their way. - -His wound forgotten, Roderick again looked round to see where he could -render the most efficient service. - -The night came on, and he was still at work, rescuing and helping. He -had been recognized by the Citizens’ Committee of Safety and now wore -a badge that gave him the freedom of the streets. In all his goings -and comings he was ever looking for General Holden, and he also made -numerous trips to Nob Hill, searching for the house where he had left -Gail. But he could never find the place again, for the raging fire was -fast obliterating all guiding landmarks. - -Thus for two days—terrible days, pitiful days—for two -nights—terrible nights, pitiful nights—Roderick drifted with the -bands of rescuers, doing deeds of valor and of helpfulness for others -less strong than himself. His face was black with soot and clotted with -blood, his coat he had parted with at the beginning of the disaster, -the rest of his clothing was tattered and torn, his sombrero had -disappeared, when and how he had not the faintest notion. - -The fire had now burned out its center circle and was eating away at the -rim in every direction. Roderick suddenly remembered he had tasted no -food since his early breakfast at Tate’s an hour before the earthquake -crash. The pangs of hunger had begun to make themselves felt, and he -concluded to turn his steps toward the outer fire line and endeavor to -find something to eat. - -As he walked along from house to house he found them all deserted. Some -of the household goods were scattered about the lawns, while boxes, -trunks, and bulky packages were piled on the sidewalks. Presently he -found a basket which contained a single loaf of bread. This he ate -ravenously, and counted it the greatest feast he had ever had in -his life. He ate as he hurried along, thinking of Gail and General -Holden—wishing he might divide the bread with them. - -The roar of consuming, crackling flames, the deep intonations of -intermittent dynamite explosions, and the occasional wail of human -beings in distress, rose and fell like a funeral dirge. - -His feet intuitively turned back to the burned district. There might -yet be more work for him to do. - -He determined to pick his way across the ruins, and ascending the hill -opposite make another desperate effort to find Gail. After a fatiguing -climb over hot embers and around the twisted steel skeletons of -burned-out buildings he finally stood on the rim of the hill above the -saucer-shaped valley of flames. Only charred and smoking ruins were -about him. The beautiful residential district had like the business -sections below, been swept with the fires of destruction. - -Where was Gail? Was she safe? Was she dead? Would he ever find her? -These were some of the questions that kept him in agonizing incertitude. - -There was a weird uncanny attraction about this great amphitheatre of -flame—an attraction like that of a lodestone; and he feared lest Gail -had left her refuge in a vain search for her father and met with another -serious accident. Roderick had visited all the unburned hospitals, but -no trace of General Holden had he been able to find. The quest for both -must be resumed; so down the hill he trudged again. - -Ashes and burning cinders were falling like huge flakes of snow. -Once more Roderick was in the midst of a throng of people—gaunt and -hollow-eyed, wearied and worn-out, just staggering along. At last he -recognized the little park in front of the St. Francis Hotel. Yes, he -would go there, stretch himself on the grass, and rest and sleep for at -least a few hours. This would make him ill the fitter for his task of -searching. - -Just as he was about to cross the street a dozen people shouted for him -to look out; but he did not turn quickly enough to discover nor escape -a burning wooden rafter that fell from the upper story of a building and -struck him an ugly glancing blow on the head. Roderick dropped to the -ground unconscious. - -At this very moment a Red Cross automobile was passing. It stopped -abruptly at the sidewalk. Two men stepped quickly down and lifted the -almost lifeless body into the machine. A moment later the auto glided -away down a side street in the direction of Golden Gate Park. - -That night there were many in the camps of refuge around the burning -city who thought about the tall, strong-muscled, square-jawed young -stranger in khaki garb, while their hearts welled up with gratitude -for his timely assistance and chivalrous deeds of bravery. Had they -but known of the fate that had at last befallen their nameless hero, -grateful thoughts would have been turned into fervent prayers. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK - -THE general shock of horror caused by the San Francisco disaster was -intensified at Encampment when the news ran round that three local -people had been in the stricken city at the moment of the earthquake -shock which had laid the business centre in ruins and prepared the way -for the subsequent far-sweeping conflagration. No telegram came from -either the Holdens or Roderick Warfield, and their silence, their -failure to relieve the anxiety of the friends they must have known -were deeply concerned about their safety, could only cause ominous -conjectures as to their fate. There was no possibility of reaching them -by wire, for the Palace Hotel, the only known address, had been one of -the first buildings destroyed. - -But Buell Hampton did not wait for telegrams to reach him. He had -no sooner been apprised of the catastrophe than he was on his way to -Rawlins, hiring a special conveyance on the mere off-chance that railway -schedules would have been disarranged and a train might be caught at any -moment. In this he showed his usual good judgment for within an hour of -reaching the station he was on board a belated limited, in which he had -the further good fortune to find one solitary sleeping berth unoccupied. -The train was loaded with returning San Francisco people who had -been absent when their homes had been swept away, anxious friends of -sufferers, doctors, nurses, relief workers of every kind, newspaper men, -all hurrying to the scene of sorrow and suffering. - -It was on the morning of the fifth day after the earthquake that Buell -Hampton, provided with a special permit, at last found himself amid the -ruins of San Francisco. Many buildings were still burning or smoldering, -but the area of destruction was now defined and the spread of the flames -checked. With saddened heart the Major picked his way along what once -had been Market Street but was now a long mound of fallen stones, -bricks, and mortar lined by the skeletons of lofty iron-framed -buildings. Here the work of clearing away the debris in search of -victims was in progress. But any inquiries of those actively engaged in -these operations were useless. Buell Hampton passed on. - -Suddenly he came upon the bread line, a wonderful sight—a long row of -people of all sorts and conditions, the rich, the poor, the educated, -the ignorant, the well dressed, the tattered, ranged in single file and -marching slowly past the commissary to receive a supply of provisions -for their own famishing selves or for their destitute families. Buell -Hampton scanned each face; neither General Holden nor Roderick were in -the line, nor was there any sign of Gail. - -Then he began a systematic visitation of the refuge camps that had been -formed around the bumed-out area. The remainder of that first day he -spent in Golden Gate Park. It was not until the succeeding afternoon -that he found himself in the crowded tent city out on the Presidio. -Here at last his patient and persistent efforts were rewarded. He caught -sight of Gail seated near the door of a tiny tent-house and strode -eagerly forward to greet her. In his deep emotion he folded the young -girl to his breast, and she in turn clung to him in her joy of meeting -at last a dear friend from home. - -“Where is your father?” was the Major’s first inquiry. - -“He is safe. We have this little tent, and I am nursing him. His right -arm was broken in the street accident, but immediately after the fire -began all the hospital patients were removed to open places, and here -I found him, thank God, the very first evening. You see, my uncle’s -house was burned. He is quartered across the bay at Oakland.” - -“Your head is bandaged, Gail. Were you badly hurt?” - -“Oh, that was nothing,” she replied, pulling off the narrow band of -linen that encircled her brow. “Just a little scalp wound when I fell, -and it is quite healed now. But, oh, I remember so little about the -terrible disaster—how I got out of the Palace Hotel at all.” - -“And Roderick—where is Roderick?” asked Buell Hampton. - -Gail’s eyes opened wide—with wonder, then with fear. - -“Roderick, Roderick!” she exclaimed in a trembling voice. “Then it -was not a dream?” - -“What dream?” - -“That it was he who carried me out of the hotel building and to the -veranda of the house where he laid me on a cot and kind friends bathed -my wound.” - -“No dream, this. It was Roderick for certain. He followed you on the -next train to San Francisco—intending to go straight to the Palace -Hotel.” - -“Followed me? Why did he follow me?” - -“To render you help when your father was hurt—because he loves -you—of course, you must have divined how deeply he loves you.” - -The color rose slowly to Gail’s face. But there was fear still in her -eyes. She pressed her clasped hands to her breast. - -“Then where is he now?” she asked in a tense whisper. - -“That is what I want to know—I have been seeking both you and him. -When did you meet last?” - -“Five days ago. After saving me he rushed straight away to seek for -Papa. I came to believe that it was all a dream. For I have not seen -him since. Oh, he must have been hurt—he may have been killed.” And -burying her face in her hands she burst into tears. - -Buell Hampton laid a kindly hand on her shoulder. “Come, my dear, we -can do no good by giving way to weeping. I have been through many of the -refuge camps, and I shall go right on searching now. You see there -are thousands of people in these Presidio grounds. He may be within a -stone’s throw of us here at this very moment.” - -“Oh, let me help you.” With a hand she dashed away her tears, and -stood before him now, calm and resolute. “I will come with you right -now. I need no hat or anything.” - -“But your father?” - -“He is all right He is resting quite peacefully. Just spare one -moment, please. Come in and shake hands. He will be so happy to see -you.” - -She led the way to the tent door and parted the awning. Buell Hampton -entered and warmly greeted General Holden. But he told him he could not -linger, for Roderick must be found. - -During the remaining hours of daylight the Major and Gail searched along -row after row of tents. But Roderick remained undiscovered—no one had -ever heard his name or could remember having seen anyone answering to -the description given. Reluctantly Buell Hampton quitted the quest and -led Gail back to her own place of refuge. - -“I am sleeping at Berkeley,” he explained. “It is best that we -should both have our night’s rest. But I shall be back here for you -soon after daybreak, and if you can engage someone to watch by your -father we shall search together all day long. Will that suit, you, -Gail?” - -“Oh, you are so kind taking me,” she replied, resting her hands on -his shoulders, tears of gratitude in the eyes that looked up into his. -“It would break my heart not to be with you.” - -“I would not rob you of love’s sweet duty,” he replied as he -stooped and gently kissed her on the brow. - -Another day went by, but still their efforts were unrewarded. On the -following morning they started for the Seal House, to search the many -improvised hospitals which they had learned were located there. The -first place they entered was an immense tent with two or three hundred -cots ranged in crowded rows. - -As Buell Hampton and Gail walked down the long central aisle, each took -one side to scan the physiognomies of the poor sufferers, some moaning -in delirium, others with quiet pale faces that lighted up to return the -smile of sympathy and encouragement Presently, the Major who was walking -a few feet in advance heard an exclamation of joy, and turning quickly -saw Gail Holden kneeling at the side of a cot There was a bewildered -look on the face of the patient—a lean drawn face, pallid beneath -the tan, the chin stubbled with a beard of a few days’ growth, the -forehead swathed in bandages, one cheek scored with a healing scar. Gail -had taken one of his hands in both her own. He looked from Gail to Major -Hampton and then from the Major back to Gail. - -“Is this a vision?” he asked feebly, as if doubting his senses. - -“Roderick, my dear fellow, is it really you?” exclaimed the Major, -as he bent down over him. “For days we have been hunting for you. -And now we’ve found your hotel”—he glanced around with a little -smile—“we don’t propose to lose sight of you again.” - -Loosening his hand from Gail’s and taking both of hers in his own -and smiling feebly, Roderick said: “Really, Gail, I hardly know yet -whether you are actually here or I am dreaming. You looked pretty white -that day I carried you from the hotel.” - -“There is no dream about me, Roderick,” replied Gail brightly. “We -are going to take care of you, Major Hampton and myself, just as you so -kindly looked after poor little me.” - -At this moment a nurse approached: “So your friends have found you, -Mr. Warfield?” she said with a cheerful smile. - -“Yes,” replied Roderick, “the very best friends I have in all the -world.” As he spoke Gail felt the gentle pressure of his hand. - -“Is this your ward?” inquired the Major of the nurse. - -“Yes, I have had charge of it ever since this makeshift hospital was -put up.” - -“Well, how is the patient, our friend Mr. Warfield?” - -“He had received a pretty ugly cut—a falling piece of wood or -something of that sort—on the top and side of his head—a sort of -glancing bruise. But he is getting on very well now. We have his fever -under control. For a number of days he was very flighty and talked a -great deal about Major Hampton.” - -“I am honored,” said the Major, bowing. - -“Oh, you are Major Hampton?” - -“Yes,” said Gail, “Major Buell Hampton is Mr. Warfield’s -best friend—that is, one of the best.” And she looked quickly at -Roderick. - -“How fortunate that you have come when he is convalescing. But tell -me,” asked the nurse, “who is Gail? In his delirium he talked a -great deal about her.” - -Roderick’s face flushed, and Gail with rising color immediately -changed the subject by asking: “How soon would it be safe to have the -patient removed?” - -“Oh, perhaps tomorrow or the next day. The doctor says he is now quite -out of danger—the fever is practically gone.” - -At Roderick’s request he was propped up on his little white iron -hospital cot, chairs were brought, and until far on in the afternoon -Gail and the Major sat on either side, conversing in quiet, subdued -tones, relating incidents in the terrible disaster, planning for their -early return to Wyoming just as soon as Gail’s father and Roderick -himself could stand the journey. - -A couple of days later Buell Hampton and Gail arrived at the hospital in -an automobile, and carried Roderick away to a yacht anchored in the -bay that had been placed at their disposal. Here Roderick found General -Holden already installed in a comfortable deck chair, and he was -introduced by Gail to her Uncle Edward, a hale old gentleman bearing a -striking resemblance to his brother. The General looked fit even if he -did carry his right arm in a sling, Roderick although weak from loss of -blood was able to walk, and both could well congratulate each other on -their providential escape. - -“We are not going to talk about these awful times,” said the General -as he gave Roderick his left hand and returned the cordial pressure. -“But I have to thank you for saving our dear Gail. We all fully -realize that without your brave and timely help we would not have her -with us today.” - -“Nonsense,” protested Roderick. “Somebody else would have done -what I did. I was just happy and lucky in having the privilege.” - -“God bless you!” murmured the father, again pressing the hand which -he had not yet relinquished. - -“And so say I,” exclaimed the uncle. “We could not do without our -little Gail.” And he patted her cheek affectionately. - -There followed a week of blissful rest and happy companionship, at the -end of which it would have been a hollow mockery to pretend in the case -of either invalid that any more nursing or lolling in long chairs was -required. Railroad accommodations were secured for the morrow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS - -TEN days before the departure from San Francisco telegrams had been sent -in all directions giving forth the glad tidings that General Holden and -Gail, Roderick and Buell Hampton, were safe and would soon be on their -homeward way to Wyoming. Among those thus notified had been the Shields -family at Los Angeles and Allen Miller at Keokuk. But it was a great -surprise to find Whitley Adams waiting the arrival of the morning train -at Rawlins with his big Sixty Horse Power automobile, and bearing the -news that Mrs. Shields, Barbara and Dorothy had returned, while also -Uncle Allen and Aunt Lois had come to Encampment so that appropriate -welcome might be given to those who had recently come through such -terrible and harrowing experiences. Jim Rankin and Tom Sun were also on -the platform to exchange hand-grips with Roderick and the Major. - -After the first glad salutations Whitley pointed to his car, and -announced that he was going to drive the party over to Encampment. - -“Sorry to be starting in opposition to the regular stage,” he said -with a sly little wink in Roderick’s direction. “But you see Mr. -Rankin’s horses are hardly good enough for the occasion.” - -Jim drew himself up and pointed to his old Concord stage coach standing -by, all ready for the road. - -“The dangnationest finest pair uv roan leaders and span uv blacks at -the wheel that ever had lines over ‘em in this part of the country,” -he declared sturdily. “Just wait a bit, young man. ‘Fore we’re -many miles on the road I make free to prognosticate you’ll be under -the bed-springs uv that new fangled wagon uv yours and my hosses will -be whizzing past you like a streak uv greased lightnin’. How would a -little bet uv ten or twenty dollars suit you?” - -“Oh, bankers never gamble,” replied Whitley with undisturbed -gravity. “Well, you’ll follow with the luggage, Mr. Rankin, and no -doubt we’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again sometime tomorrow. -Come away, Miss Holden. Luncheon is to be waiting at my hotel in -Encampment in a couple of hours.” - -“Blame his skin,” muttered Jim when the big automobile had whirled -away. But Tom Sun was convulsed with laughter. - -“He got your dander fairly riz, Jim,” he chuckled. - -Jim’s visage expanded into a broad grin. - -“Guess that’s just what he was arter. But ain’t he the most sassy -cock-a-whoop little cuss anyhow?” - -“Shall I help you with the luggage?” laughed Tom Sun. - -“Oh, you just quit the foolin’ game, Tom. Don’t come nachural from -you. Besides I might be gettin’ a heap peevish and kind o’ awkward -with my artillery. Suppose we lubricate?” - -So the old cronies crossed over to the Wren saloon, where a brace of -cocktails soon restored Jim’s ruffled dignity. - -Meanwhile the automobile was speeding along. - -Roderick was on the driver’s seat beside Whitley, and absorbing the -news. - -“Oh, I just insisted on your Uncle Allen coming along,” Whitley was -telling him. “And Aunt Lois, too. My old folks will arrive at the end -of the week. Meantime Aunt Lois is helping me with my trousseau.” - -“Your trousseau!” - -“Yes—socks and things. You see it’s all fixed up between me and -dear Dorothy. Oh, she’s the best girl ever—you’ll remember I said -that from the first, Rod, my boy.” His face became grave, and his -voice took a humble tone. “Of course I know I can never, fill the -place of Grant Jones, and I told her that. But I’ll do my best to make -her happy, and I think she cares enough for me to let me try.” - -Roderick pressed the hand next him resting on the steering wheel. - -“I’m sure you’ll be very happy, both of you,” he said; “and I -congratulate you, Whitley, old fellow, from the bottom of my heart.” - -Whitley looked round and was his gay, light-hearted self once again. - -“Thanks, old chap. Well, Barbara and Ben Bragdon are also ready. -We’re only waiting for you and Gail.” - -Roderick’s face reddened. - -“You’re mighty kind but rather premature, I’m afraid.” - -“Oh, fudge and nonsense! We’re all agreed the thing’s settled, or -as good as settled. Great guns anyone with half an eye could have told -it, to see you handing her out of the train a little while ago.” - -“Really, Whitley.” - -“There now, just forget all that. So when talking matters over with -Bragdon and our dear twins I suggested that we might as well ring the -wedding bells for six as for two at a time—may come cheaper with the -Reverend Grannon, you know, if we hand it to him wholesale.” - -Roderick no longer attempted to protest, and Whitley rambled on: “But, -say, old fellow, your Uncle Allen has one on you. He declares that -Gail Holden is just the very girl he intended for you right from the -beginning—the young lady about whom you kicked when you had that row -in the banker’s room a year and a half ago—Great Scott, how time -does fly!” - -“Impossible,” exclaimed Roderick in profound amazement - -“The very same,” replied Whitley. “The little tot of a girl with -whom you had that desperate love affair down the river years and years -ago—oh, quite a pretty story; your uncle told it to me with no end of -charming details. And now he is mighty proud, I can tell you, over his -own foresight and sagacity in picking just the right girl for you at the -very start.” - -“He said that, did he?” queried Roderick with a grim smile. - -“Yes, and that if you had followed his advice you could have had her -then, without running away from home and facing all sorts of hardships -and dangers.” - -“No, sir,” exclaimed Roderick firmly. “Gail Holden is not that -sort of girl. Uncle Allen forgets that she had to be won—or rather has -to be won,” he added, correcting himself when he caught the smile on -Whitley’s countenance. - -“Well, you won’t forget,” laughed Whitley, “that I stood out -of the contest and left the way clear for you. Lucky, though, that the -College Widow took the bit between her teeth and bolted, eh, old man?” - -“Hush!” whispered Roderick, throwing a warning glance over his -shoulder. - -“What are you two boys talking about?” asked Gail, with a bright -smile from her seat at the back of the tonneau. - -“Old college days,” laughed Whitley, as he changed the clutch for a -stiff up-grade. - -Arriving at Encampment, they found Allen Miller walking nervously up and -down the platform in front of the hotel. The red blood in Roderick’s -veins surged like fierce hammer strokes, with eagerness to once more -grasp the hand of his old guardian. - -He hastily excused himself, jumped from the auto and grasped the -extended hand of his old guardian. He was soon led away by his uncle -Allen, to the parlors of the hotel, to meet his Aunt Lois. - -“Oh, I am so glad you brought Roderick here, Allen; for I just knew -that I would get all fussed up and cry. - -“There, there, Aunt Lois,” said Roderick cheerily, after embracing -her warmly, “we are not going to be separated any more,—or, if we -are, it will not be for long at any one time. I know the way back to old -Keokuk,” said Roderick, laughing and hugging his dear aunt Lois -again, “and you and Uncle Allen now know the road out to the Wyoming -hills.” - -“I declare, Lois,” said Uncle Allen, “you and Roderick act like a -couple of school children.” He laughed rather loudly as he said this, -to hide his own agitation; but it was noticed that his eyes were filled -with tears, which he hastily brushed away. - -It was a happy luncheon party at the Bonhomme Hotel, Whitley playing -the host to perfection, his guests, besides the new arrivals, being the -whole Shields family, Banker Allen Miller and his wife, and the young -state senator, Ben Bragdon. And early in the proceedings Gail to her -surprise learned that Roderick was no other than her little boy lover -on the river steamer Diamond Joe some fifteen years ago, and blushed -in sweet confusion when Allen Miller in radiant good humor joked about -coming events casting their shadows before. Roderick went to her rescue -and promptly switched the topic of conversation. - -Toward the close of the meal Buell Hampton was expounding to the banker -a great irrigation scheme he had in view—to bring into Encampment -Valley the waters of French Creek and Bear Creek, the former by a tunnel -through the Hunter Range, the latter by a siphon under the Great Platte -River, whereby a hundred thousand acres of rich valley lands, now -wilderness because waterless, could be brought into profitable -agricultural bearing. - -“So you are going to drive us cattle men off the face of the -country,” laughed Mr. Shields. - -“Better happy homes than roaming herds,” replied Buell Hampton. -“What nobler work could we take in hand?” he asked. “The smelter -and the mine are running themselves now. Let us then see what we can -do to make the desert blossom like the rose. Mr. Miller, Mr. Shields, -myself—we can all help with capital. Mr. Bragdon, there is a life’s -work for you in this enterprise.” - -“Lawyers always come in for fat pickings,” laughed Whitley Adams. - -“General Holden,” continued the Major, “I am sure will want to -join in too. Then Roderick—” - -He paused and glanced in his young friend’s direction. - -“Oh, I’m prepared to turn in all the gold from my mine,” exclaimed -Roderick enthusiastically. - -Indeed Buell Hampton had kindled the spirit of enthusiasm all round. The -project was as good as launched—the dream of a generation of pioneers -within sight of realization. - -When coffee was being served on the veranda, the Major drew Roderick -aside. They were seated alone at a little table. - -“Roderick, my boy,” Buell Hampton began, “I want to see you -tonight at my home—all alone. Come about eight o’clock. I have -several matters of importance to communicate. During the afternoon -I’ll be busy—I have some banking business to transact, besides I -wish an hour or two with your uncle before my talk with you tonight. I -am sorry to leave such a happy gathering, but am sure”—this with -a gentle glance in Gail’s direction—“that the time will not hang -heavily on your hands. Until eight o’clock then,” and with a tap on -Roderick’s shoulder the Major crossed over and spoke a few words to -Allen Miller, the two taking their departure a few moments later. - -Roderick was mystified—less by Buell Hampton’s actual words than by -his grave look and manner. - -Meanwhile Gail had risen and entered the drawing room that opened by -French windows off the veranda, and the sound of her voice at the piano -broke him from his momentary reverie. He rose and joined her. - - - - -CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY - -RODERICK was prompt to the minute in keeping his appointment. He found -the Major seated before a bright log-fire, and his first glance around -the old familiar room showed the progress of some unusual preparations. -The open lid of a traveling trunk revealed clothing and books already -packed; the violin in its case rested on the centre table. - -Buell Hampton interpreted his visitor’s look of wonderment. - -“Yes, Roderick,” he said with a smile that was both tender and -serious, “I am going away. But let us take things in their order. Sit -down here, and let us smoke our pipes together in the old way—perhaps -it may be for the last time in each other’s company.” - -“Oh, don’t say that, my dear Major,” protested Roderick, in -accents of real concern. - -But Buell Hampton motioned him to his seat, and passed over the humidor. -For a minute or two they smoked in silence. At last the Major spoke. - -“Roderick, I have news that will greatly surprise you. I had a -telegram from Boney Earnest just before we left San Francisco. I said -nothing to you, for I did not wish with needless haste to disturb your -happiness.” - -“Not about Gail?” asked Roderick, his face paling. - -“No, no. This has nothing to do with Gail—at least it only affects -her indirectly. You spoke today at lunch time about turning in the -profits of your gold mine into the Encampment Valley irrigation scheme. -I want to put you right on this mining matter first. Boney Earnest’s -telegram showed that neither you nor I have a gold mine any longer. -Hidden Valley has disappeared. Our claims are under five hundred feet of -water.” - -“How could this have happened?” - -“You have read in the newspapers that the cosmic disturbances of the -San Francisco earthquake extended entirely across the continent. Indeed -the shocks were felt distinctly in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and -other Atlantic points. Well, a number of prospectors have been up among -the mountains getting ready to stake around our claims, and they report -that three miles above Spirit Falls a vast new lake has been formed, -completely filling the canyon.” - -“The shake brought down the grotto cavern, I suppose.” - -“And sealed it, damming back the river. That is undoubtedly what has -happened. So Roderick, my dear fellow, you have to forget that gold. But -of course you know that all I have is yours to share.” - -“No, no, Major,” exclaimed Roderick, laying a hand on his friend’s -shoulder. “Besides your all too generous gift at Denver, I have my -salary from the smelter company, and I’m going to chip in to the limit -of my power for the advancement of that glorious irrigation scheme of -yours. I did without the mine before. Thank God I can do without it now. -My dear father’s letter served its purpose—it brought me to Wyoming, -and although I have no right to say so just yet I do believe that it has -won for me Gail Holden’s love.” - -“I am sure of it,” remarked Buell Hampton quietly. “She has loved -you for a long time—you were all in all to her before you followed -to San Francisco, as the poor girl’s anguish showed during those days -when we both thought that you had perished.” - -“Then, Major,” cried Roderick, the light of great joy illuminating -his countenance, “if I have won Gail Holden’s love I have won -greater treasure than the treasure of Hidden Valley—greater treasure -than all the gold claims in the world.” - -“Spoken like a man,” replied Buell Hampton as he gripped -Roderick’s hand. The latter continued, his face all aglow: -“Everything has come out right When my Unde Allen refused to help me -in my New York ventures he really saved me from cruel and accursed Wall -Street where more hearts have been broken and lives of good promise -wrecked than on all the battlefields of the world. When he handed me my -father’s letter, he took me out of that selfish inferno and sent me -here into the sweet pure air of the western mountains, among men like -you, the Reverend Stephen Grannon, Ben Bragdon, Boney Earnest, and good -old Jim Rankin too, besides our dear dead comrade Grant Jones. Here I -have the life worth living, which is the life compounded of work and -love. Love without work is cloying, work without love is soul-deadening, -but love and work combined can make of earth a heaven.” - -“And now you speak like a philosopher,” said Buell Hampton -approvingly. - -“Which shows that I have been sitting at your feet. Major, for a year -past not altogether in vain,” laughed Roderick. “From every point of -view I owe you debts that can never be repaid.” - -“Then let me improve this occasion by just one thought, Roderick. -It is in individual unselfishness that lies the future happiness of -mankind. The age of competition has passed, the age of combination for -profit is passing, the age of emulation in unselfishness is about to -dawn. The elimination of selfishness will lead to the elimination of -poverty; then indeed will the regeneration of our social system be -begun. Think that thought, Roderick, my dear fellow, when I am gone.” - -It was ever thus that Buell Hampton sought to sow the tiny grain of -mustard seed in fertile soil. - -“But why should you go away, Major?” asked Roderick protestingly. - -“Because duty calls me—my work for humanity demands. But we shall -come to that presently. For the moment I want to recall one of our -conversations in this room—in the early days of our friendship. Do you -remember when I gave it as my opinion that it would be conducive to the -happiness of mankind if there was no abnormal individual wealth in the -world?” - -“That a quarter of a million dollars was ample for the richest man in -the world—I remember every word, Major.” - -“Well, Roderick, today I have transferred to your credit in your Unde -Allen’s bank precisely this sum.” - -“Major, Major, I could never accept such a gift.” - -“Just hear me patiently, please. The sum is quite rightfully yours. It -is really only a small fraction of what your father’s claim might have -produced for you had I taken you earlier into my full confidence and so -helped you to the location of the rich sandbar with its nuggets of gold. -Moreover, you know me well enough to understand that I count wealth as -only a trust in my hands—a trust for the good of humanity. And I feel -that, in equipping such a man as yourself, a man whom I have tested -out and tried in a dozen different ways without your knowing it—in -equipping you with a sufficient competency I really help to discharge -my trust, for I invest you with the power to do unmeasured good to all -around you. I need not expatiate on such a theme; you have heard my -views many times. In sharing my wealth with you, Roderick, I simply -bring you in as an efficient helper for the uplift of humanity. It -therefore becomes your duty to accept the trust I hand over to you, -cheerfully and wishing you Godspeed with every good work to which you -set your hand.” - -“Then, Major, I can but accept the responsibility. I need not tell you -that I shall always try to prove myself worthy of such a trust.” - -“I have yet another burden to place on your shoulders. The balance of -the wealth at my present disposal I have also handed over to you—as my -personal trustee. At this moment I do not know when and in what amount -I shall require money for the task I am about to undertake. Later on -you will hear from me. Meanwhile Allen Miller knows that my initial -investment will be equal to his own in the valley irrigation scheme. -You, Roderick, as my trustee may contribute further sums at your -absolute discretion; if the work requires help at any stage, use no -stinting hand irrespective of financial returns for me, because with -me the thing that counts mainly is the happiness and prosperity of this -town, its people, and the surrounding valley lands.” - -“But, Major, can’t you remain with us and do these things -yourself?” - -“No; the call is preemptory. And if perchance you should never hear -from me again, Roderick, continue, I beg of you, to use my money for the -good of humanity. Count it as your own, use it as your own. I lay down -no hard and fast rules to guide you. Give to the poor—give to those in -distress—pay off the usurer’s mortgage and stop excessive interest -that makes slaves of the poor family struggling to own a little thatched -cottage. Give wherever your heart is touched—give because it is -God’s way and God is prompting you by touching your heart.” - -Roderick listened in silence, deeply moved. He saw that Buell -Hampton’s mind was made up—that no pleading or remonstrance could -alter the decision at which he had arrived. The Major had now risen from -his chair; there was a softness in the rich full tones of his voice, a -look of half pain in his eyes, as he went on: “But remember, although -we may be parted, our friendship abides—its influences endure. -Friendship, my dear Roderick, is elemental—without commencement and -without end—a discovery. From the beginning of furthest antiquity, the -pathway of the centuries have been lined with tablet-stones pronouncing -its virtues. Friendship is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow and -forever. It is an attraction of personalities and its power is unseen -and as subtle as the lode-stone. It is the motive that impels great -deeds of bravery in behalf of humanity. It speaks to the hearts of those -who can hear its accents of truth and wisdom, and contributes to the -highest ideals of honor, to the development of the sublimest qualities -of the soul. It is the genius of greatness; the handmaiden of humanity. -I have sometimes thought that if we could place in our own souls a harp -so delicately attuned that as every gale of passion, of hope, of sorrow, -of love and of joy swept gently over the chords, then we would hear -in the low plaintive whisperings the melody of friendship’s -sweetest note—that quivers and weeps and laughs on the shore line of -immortality.” - -“Your friendship, Major,” said Roderick fervently, “will always -be one of the most deeply cherished things in my life. But I cannot -reconcile myself to the thought that we should part.” - -Buell Hampton laid a hand upon the young man’s shoulder. - -“Duty calls—the two little words are enough, although it grieves me -sore to think that most likely we shall never meet again. Your work is -here—your usefulness lies here. But as for me, my mission in the hills -is finished. I am going to a far away country—not a new one, because -there are many in squalor and poverty where duty leads me. There I will -begin again my labors for the lowly and the poor—for those who are -carrying an unjust portion of life’s burdens. There is no lasting -pleasure in living, my dear Roderick, unless we help hasten the age of -humanity’s betterment. Good-by,” concluded the Major, smiling into -Roderick’s eyes and pressing his hand warmly—“good-by.” - -Almost dazed by the suddenness of the parting Roderick Warfield found -himself out in the darkness of the night He was stunned by the thought -that he had gripped his dear friend’s hand perhaps for the last -time—that there had gone out of his life the one man whom above all -others he honored and loved. - -Thus passed Buell Hampton from among the people of the hills. None of -his intimates in or around Encampment ever saw him again. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE - -ON the following afternoon Roderick saddled his pony Badger and rode -over to the Conchshell ranch. The Holdens received the news of Buell -Hampton’s mysterious departure with deep regret; the Major had become -very dear to their hearts, how dear they only fully realized now that he -was gone. - -It was toward evening when Gail proposed that they go riding in the -woods. The invitation delighted Roderick, and Fleetfoot and Badger were -speedily got ready. - -“Let us follow the old timber road to the south,” Roderick -suggested. “I want to show you, only a few miles from here, a -beautiful lake.” - -“I know of no such lake,” she replied. - -“Yet it is less than five miles away, and we shall christen it Spirit -Lake, if you like the name, for it lies above Spirit Falls.” - -“You are dreaming. There is no such lake.” - -“I will show it to you. Come along.” - -Upward and onward he led her over the range. And when they gained the -summit, there at their feet lay the great new lake about which Buell -Hampton had told him, fully seven miles long and two miles wide, and not -less than six or seven hundred feet deep as Roderick knew, for he had -gathered nuggets of gold on the floor of the little canyon now submerged -beneath the placid blue waters. - -Gail gazed in silent admiration. At last she exclaimed: “Spirit Lake! -It is well named. It is more like a dream than reality.” - -He helped her from the saddle. They tethered their mounts in western -fashion by throwing the reins over the horses’ heads. They were -standing under the branches of a big pine, and again they gazed over -the waters. At the lower end of the lake was a most wonderful waterfall, -dashing sheer down some four hundred feet into Spirit River. - -For several minutes they continued to gaze in enraptured silence on -the scene of tranquil beauty. Toward the east the forest was darkly -purple—to the west, across the waters, the hills were silhouetted in -splendid grandeur against a magnificent sunset. The whole range seemed -clothed in a robe of finest tapestry. The sun was rapidly approaching -the rim of the western horizon. - -The afterglow of the red sunset marked paths of rippling gold on the -waters. Vague violet shadows of dusk were merging over all. Nature was -singing the lyric of its soul into things—crooning lake and mountains -and forest-clad slopes to slumber. - -It was Gail who at last broke the spell. - -“Oh, how beautiful, how supremely beautiful,” she murmured. - -“Well, it is the earthquake that has wrought all this wonderful -change,” explained Roderick’. “And now, dear Gail, I have a story -to tell you.” - -And, seating her on the turf by his side, under the big pine, where -the waters lapped at their very feet, he proceeded to relate the whole -romantic story of his father’s lost find—his own lost claim. By the -time the narrative was ended the sun had set behind the hills. Roderick -rose, and giving his hands, helped Gail to her feet. - -“So all this wonderful treasure of Hidden Valley lies beneath these -waters,” she exclaimed. - -“Yes, but for me the real treasure is here by my side.” - -As he spoke these words his arm stole around her waist. She did not -appear to notice his half timid embrace as together they stood viewing -the panorama of a dying day. Presently he drew her closer. - -“The day and the night blend,” he whispered softly as if fearful -of disturbing the picture. “Shall not our lives, sweetheart,” asked -Roderick with vibrant voice, “likewise blend forever and forever?” - -Gail half turning lifted her slender hands to Roderick’s cheeks and he -quickly clasped her tightly in his strong arms and kissed her madly on -lips, eyes and silken hair. - -“Roderick, my lover—my king,” said Gail through pearly tears of -joy. - -“My little Gail,” whispered Roderick, exultantly, “my -sweetheart—my queen.” - -Slowly the light of day vanished. The sounds of night began walking -abroad in the world. Dusk wrapped these lovers in its mantle. The day -slept and night brooded over forest, lake and hills. - -In a little while they lifted the bridle reins of their mounts and -turning walked arm in arm down the old timber road toward Conchshell -ranch. - -They halted in the darkness and Roderick said: “Do you mind, dear, if -I smoke?” - -“Certainly not,” was her cheery reply. - -He bit the cigar and struck a match. The fight reflected on Gail’s -radiant face. “Wonderful,” he ejaculated as he tossed the match -away, laughing softly. He had quite forgotten to light his cigar. - -“Why, what did you see, Roderick, you silly fellow, that is so -wonderful?” - -“I saw,” said Roderick, “the dearest little woman in the wide, -wide world—my mountain song girl—who is going to be kissed with all -the pent-up passion of a ‘grizzly’ in just one-half second.” - - - - -AFTERWORD - -Into the warp and woof of my story of the West, “The Treasure of -Hidden Valley,” there have been woven a few incidents of the great -calamity that some years ago befell the city of San Francisco. Perhaps -some of my readers will care to peruse a more detailed description of -that tragic happening. W. G. E. - -IT was on April 18, 1906, that San Francisco was shaken by a terrible -earthquake which in its final effects resulted in the city being -cremated into cinders and gray ashes. - -The trembling, gyrating, shaking and swaying vibrations, the swiftly -following outbursts of fire, the cries of those pinned beneath fallen -débris and of the thousands who were seeking to escape by fleeing into -the parks and toward the open country, produced the wildest pandemonium. - -While there was no wind, yet a hundred fires originating at different -points quickly grew into sheets of towering flame and spread to adjacent -buildings, burning with demoniacal fierceness as if possessed by some -unseen mysterious power, pouring forth red hot smoke until the prostrate -city was melted into ruin by the intense heat of a veritable hell. - -The night of April 17 and 18 had almost ended in San Francisco. It had -been like many another night in that cosmopolitan city. Pleasure-seekers -were legion,—negligent, care-free, wrapped in the outward show of -things—part of it good—part of it not so good—some of it downright -wicked as in Ancient Pompeii. Yet the hour was late—or early, -whichever you will—even for San Francisco. The clock in the city hall -had resounded forth five strokes. Peaceful folk were in the realm of -dreams that precede awakening. The roistering hundreds of a drunken -night had gathered in places of vice and were sleeping away the liquor -fumes. The streets were almost deserted. - -The great printing presses that had been reverberating with the thunders -of a Jove, gathering and recording the news from the four quarters of -the earth, had paused and all was still. Here and there morning papers -were on the streets and the preliminary work was in progress of sending -them forth to the front doorsteps of the homes of rich and poor, from -one end of the city to the other. Then, without warning, just eighteen -minutes after the city clock had tolled its five strokes, one of the -greatest news items and tragedies of the world’s history was enacted. -An historical milestone of the centuries was on that eventful morning -chiseled on the shore line of the Pacific Coast. - -Suddenly from the womb of sleeping silence, from far below the earth’s -crust, just as the dawn of a new day began purpling the eastern sky, -there came forth a rumbling and muttering of unearthly noises like the -collapsing of palaces of glass or the clanking of giant chains. It came -from beneath the entire city and was borne upward and abroad on the -startled wings of a mysterious fear. It was a shrieking, grinding -confusion of subterranean thunder, like the booming of heavy artillery -in battle. It was deafening in its dreadfulness, and drove terror to -the heart of the hardiest. It sounded to the affrighted people as if two -mighty armies of lusty giants of the underworld were grappling in -mortal combat and in their ferocious anger were unwittingly breaking the -earth’s fragile shell into yawning cracks and criss-cross fissures. -Mount Tamalpais was fluttering like the wings of a snared pigeon. - -In the space of seconds, the whole populace awoke, excepting those who -had answered the last call; for some there were, pinned under falling -walls, who were overtaken by swift death in the very act of awakening. - -The uncounted number that were crushed to death and had life’s door -closed to them forever, no one will ever know. In the forty-eight -seconds that followed the beginning of the deep guttural bellowing of -hideous noises from somewhere below the earth’s surface, buildings -rocked and heaved and twisted, while heavy objects of household -furniture were tumbled across rooms from one corner to the other and the -occupants helplessly tossed from their beds. - -Such an awakening, such lamentations, such cursing, such prayers, and -then into the debris-littered streets the multitude began pouring forth, -half-clothed, wild and panic-stricken. - -The stunning shock, like a succession of startled heart-beats, lasted -twelve seconds less than one minute, but those who experienced the -ordeal say it seemed an eternity—forty-eight seconds—terrible -seconds—of sickening, swaying suspense. A heaving earth, jerking, -pulsing to and fro in mad frenzy, while countless buildings were swaying -and keeping time to a wild hissing noise like the noise of boiling, -blubbering fat in a rendering caldron. - -It was the dawn of a new day abounding in hideous noises—detonations -of falling masonry, the crash of crumbling, crushing walls, the shrieks -of maimed and helpless victims—and all the people stupefied with a -terrible fear, women weeping in hysterical fright and everyone expectant -of they knew not what, unable to think coherently or reason, yet their -voices filling the stricken city with cries and moans of heart-rending -terror and lamentation. And all the while there came up from somewhere -an unearthly threatening roar that awed the multitude into unnatural -submissive bewilderment. - -At the end of eight and forty seconds the frantically tossed earth -quieted—became normal and was still. Some of the buildings righted and -were quiescent, and a moment of silence followed, except for the crowing -of cocks, the whinnying of frightened horses and the whining of cowering -dogs. This condition, however, was only of momentary duration. - -Almost immediately the streets became a wild scene of turmoil as the -half-clothed, half-crazed men, women and children went rushing up and -down in every direction, they knew not why nor where. Doors were broken -open to allow egress, shutters were slammed, windows were hastily -raised, and like a myriad of ants the rest of the people who until now -had been penned up, struggled forth into open ways—thinly clad, some -almost naked, trembling, gazing about awe-stricken, looking each at his -fellow, indifferent to the destruction going on about them, each filled -with prayerful thankfulness for life. Then, like a rehearsed orchestra -of many voices, there arose, seemingly in unison, a chorus of -heart-piercing wails and calls from thousands of throats for loved -ernes—loved ones lost who could not answer. - -In the pale light of that April dawn, this vast army of survivors, while -chilled with outward cold, shivered also with an unspeakable inward -dread. - -Along the streets of proud San Francisco in every direction were huge -masses of bricks, cornices, fallen ragged chimneys and walls, tumbled -together in complex dykes of débris like the winrows of a hay field -and interspersed with the dead and dying bodies of man and horse alike, -vanquished in life’s uneven contest. - -A little later in the vicinity of the ten-million-dollar courthouse, -crowds of frightened people gathered, attracted perhaps by the terrific -thundering of the mammoth stone slabs and concrete sides and columns of -the structure, as, in their loosened condition from the steel skeleton, -they kept crashing down upon the street in riotous disorder. - -Every block in the city held its tragedy, its silent evidence of a -mighty internal upheaving of Goliath strength. There were hundreds -of dead, while others lay maimed in tortured suffering, buried under -wreckage, pinned down by the giant hands of the Angel of Destruction. -The unfortunates still living were fastened like insects caught in -traps, helpless, but hoping for relief, awaiting the unwritten chapter -that was yet to come. - -The great earthquake of San Francisco had spent its force—its rude -results lay in careless disheveled evidence on every hand—and now the -nerve-strained, half-crazed and bewildered people caught the sound of -fire bells clanging hurriedly into nearer distances. - -The fire hose and the corps of hook and ladder men came rushing with -all speed, drawn by frenzied horses, hastily turning street corners and -dashing around fallen walls while the automatic fire bells were cutting -the air in metallic, staccato beats of wildest alarm. Soon the throbbing -of the fire engines began and false hope sprung rife in the hearts of -the people. Those running south on Market Street paused in bewilderment, -not knowing which way to go, for fire calls and flames were evident, -not in one location nor two, but in hundreds at widely separated places -throughout the erstwhile magnificent metropolis of the Occident. - -Black columns of smoke began rising from ominous red furnace flames -beneath, and curled lazily into the balm of the upper air, indifferent -to the wails of the helpless unfortunates maimed and pinned beneath the -wrecked buildings of a demolished and burning city. - -The murky smoke like mourning crape hung mutely above, while beneath its -canopy life’s sacrificial offering lay prostrate, the dying and -the dead. The consuming flames spread quickly, and the horror of the -hopeless condition of the injured was soon apparent, while the sobs -and cries of the doomed victims became maddening because of the very -impotency to succor them. - -The suddenness of it all did not give time for the rescuers. Then too, -the smoke-blinded and half-choked people in the crowded, congested -streets were stampeding toward the open country—to Golden Gate Park -and the Presidio. Many of the trapped victims, well and strong, might -have escaped but could not exert normal power to shake off the fetters -that held them down under fallen wreckage too heavy for their hampered -strength. It was a veritable bedlam, some cursing, some praying, most -all crying loudly as if in crazed pain for assistance. - -The first paroxysm passed, the poor unfortunates seemingly became more -patient, believing that relief would surely come. The crackling flames -mounted higher and came alarmingly nearer. Finally, as the conflagration -with a hurried sweep began to envelop these pinioned human beings, they -shrieked in agony like lost souls in terrible anguish at a most horrible -and certain death. Their voices rose with the rising of the flames until -at last the piteous cries were hushed perforce, and only the crackling -sound of burning wood and the forked tongues of raging red fire greeted -the sun, that morning of April 18, as it climbed above the eastern -mountains and looked upon the scene of woeful destruction. - -Is it any wonder that strong men wept? Is it to be marveled at that -those separated from friends and relatives grew bewildered, frantic and -crazed with grief and fear, and that chaos reigned supreme? - -Gradually amid the whirl of emotions there stepped forth men who until -now had been stunned into silence and temporarily bereft of reason. The -first staggering shock passed, they became possessed in a measure with -calmness and courage. They girded their belts afresh and although many -of them began by cursing the heartless, cruel fire and the terribleness -of it all, they quickly and determinedly turned to the stupendous work -of endeavoring to subdue its ravages. - -Then a new terror raised its ghostly head and held the people in a grip -of deepest despair. The earthquake had broken the supplying water mains, -and presently the city was without water and the fire engines and other -fire-fighting apparatus were worthless junk. It was a grievous blow to -momentarily raised hopes and courageous resolution. - -The flames raged on with the fleetness of race horses, eating out the -heart of the city, burning it into cinders, and cremating the flesh and -bone of fallen victims. - -Dynamite was brought into use, gunny sacks and bedding of all sorts were -saturated with water from barrels and tanks. Grappling hooks and human -hands made up the armament of puny defense against the over-powering and -masterful flames of annihilation. - -Against these feeble weapons, the grim demon of fire planned an attack -of certain devastation. It was as if his Satanic Majesty with all his -imps were in their ruthless cunning directing a fiendish work that would -permit no record but death to the unfortunate, no record to the proud -city but gaunt-ribbed skeleton buildings, red hot cinders and blackened -ash heaps. - -Overturned stoves in a thousand houses throughout the residential -districts had early started a multitude of fires and split the -fire-fighters into many divisions, and therefore into less effective -units in their futile efforts even partially to check the mighty -master—the devouring tempest of fire that crackled and sported in its -insatiable greed. - -There was still to follow yet another misfortune, an execrable -crime—that of wicked inhuman incendiarism. At places flames burst -forth kindled by the hands of a coterie of merciless ghouls. These -inhuman devils added to the calamities heaped upon their fellows by -setting fire to unburned dwellings whose owners had fled. There was -neither necessity nor reason for their dastardly acts. With sponges -soaked in kerosene, they did this damnable work—indulging dreams -perhaps of greater loot, greed and avarice in their cruel eyes, blackest -hell in their debauched hearts. - -In the beginning of this losing fight with terrors of the fire king, -seemingly unconquerable, only one ray of hope was discernible—there -was no wind from ocean or bay in San Francisco that April morning. The -clouds that filled the heavens with ominous blackness were only stifling -smoke from the burning buildings below. - -High above the crimson snake-tongued flames the black smoke hung like a -pall, silent and motionless, while fringing it around far away in every -direction was the clear blue sky, serene, unfathomable. - -As the heroic work of fighting the fire demon progressed, it was soon -discovered that the police were insufficient. Crowds of ghouls were -pressing the firemen, while robbery, rapine and murder ran riot. Human -blood that day was easily spilled. For the sake of pelf and plunder, -life was cheap. - -The boldness of this lawless condition brought about its own remedy. -Strong men arose in their might. Under able leadership they quickly -formed a committee of safety. The National Guard was sent to help them. - -General Fred Funston of the U. S. Army telegraphed to the Secretary of -War for authority, and within three hours was hurrying United States -troops into the burning city, and immediately placed it under martial -law. The crowds were quickly driven back by the soldiers, fire lines -were established, government troops, guards and police all bent nobly to -the task of endeavoring to subdue the flames. Buildings were dynamited -to shut off the fire’s progress, insubordinate as well as predatory -ruffians were shot down without mercy, and thus was order brought out of -chaos. But as the hours went by, despite all efforts, the gormandizing -flames consumed acres and acres of buildings. - -Every wandering automobile was pressed into service and loaded with -dynamite. Thus for hour after hour the losing fight with the merciless -flames went on. - -As the fire burnt its way south on Market Street, the isolated centers -crept toward each other with ever widening circles of flame. While there -was no breeze to fan them on, yet the flames seemed possessed of some -invisible means of progression—an unseen spirit of continued expansion -lurked within. The buildings were like so much dry timber, igniting -without direct contact of spark or flame, only from the tremendous heat -that was generated. Sweeping on and on the different conflagrations at -last came together—joined in greater strength, flared up hundreds of -feet high, until it looked as if the entire city was one vast molten -lake of undulating waves of fire. - -The roar of the flames could be heard far beyond the confines of the -city—the immense columns and clouds of black smoke continued to sweep -upward, until high aloft they spread out into the great canopy as if in -shame they fain would hide from angels above the terrible destruction -being wrought in this fiery pit below. - -As the hours went by, the exodus of people continued. The fascination of -it all held the multitudes spell-bound. They for a time were forgetful -of hunger, but moved on, this way and that as the burning districts -compelled them to go. The public parks began to fill with refugees. The -Presidio and the hills overlooking the city were blackened with throngs -of people shivering from cold and beginning to suffer the pangs of -hunger, the rich and the poor touching shoulders, condoling one with -the other in lamentations. This surging mass of famishing humanity were -clothed, or partially clothed, in strange and ridiculous costumes. - -Household goods littered the outlying streets. Most of the wayfarers who -reached the country had little luggage. Many had carried some useless -article nearest at hand, selected in their hurry without thought of its -value or utility. - -One woman held a bird cage under her arm—empty, with the door swinging -open. Another carried a carving knife in one hand and a feather-bedecked -hat of gaudiness in the other. One man was seen dragging an old -leather-bound trunk by a rope—investigation proved the trunk to be -without contents. - -Notwithstanding the people had lost their all, and in most cases were -famishing, yet the great mass were good-natured and tolerant, the strong -helping the weak. The chivalry of the West and its rugged manhood abided -in their midst There was a common brotherhood in the ranks of these -homeless human beings. Distinctions between rich and poor were -obliterated—they were all fellow refugees. - -No street cars were running in the city. Market Street, into which the -greater number of street car railroad tracks converged, was littered -with fallen buildings, useless hose and fire fighting apparatus, twisted -beams, cinders, heaps of hot ashes and charred bodies of the dead. - -It was about eleven o’clock in the morning of the first day of this -terrible devastation that the famous Palace Hotel had finally been -emptied of its last guest. The rooms throughout were bestrewn with -fallen plaster from ceiling and walls, but otherwise, strange to -narrate, the structure had suffered but little damage from the -earthquake while all around were collapsed and fallen buildings. - -At the Mission Street side of the building and on the roof the employees -had fought bravely to save this noted hostelry. But as the noon hour -approached they gave up all hope. Hurrying through the rooms of the -departed guests in an endeavor to save, if possible, abandoned luggage, -they gossiped about the “yellow streak,” as they called it, of a -world-noted singer—a guest of the hotel—who had been frightened -almost to death by the earthquake and developed evidence of rankest -selfishness in his mad efforts to save himself. - -Then in sadder tones they talked of the impending and inevitable -destruction of the magnificent hotel, where most of them had been -employed for years. As the heat from the on-sweeping flames began to be -unbearable, they hurried away one by one until the famous caravansary -was finally deserted by man and in full possession of the ruthless -devouring flames. - -Great crowds stood on Montgomery Street near the site of the Union Trust -Building and watched the burning of the Palace Hotel. Held back by -the soldiers in mournful silence, the mass of people watched the angry -flames leaping from roof and windows. Soon the fire spread to the Grand -Hotel across the street. The flames shot up higher, and then when their -task of destruction was finally finished, gradually sank down until -nothing but roofless, windowless, bare bleak walls, gaunt, blackened -and charred, were left—a grim ghost of the old hotel that boasted of a -million guests during its gorgeous days of usefulness, and around -which twined a thousand memories of the golden days of the Argonauts of -California. - -Half a block away a newspaper building had been blown up by dynamite—a -similar attempt with the Monadnock Building failed of its purpose. - -When night finally fell, those on the north side of Market Street -rejoiced greatly, for it seemed that the fire, at least in the down-town -business district, had burned itself into submission. So said a -well-known milliner for men, as he ate a huge steak at a famous resort -on the ocean shore and indulged heavily in champagne in celebration of -the saving of his premises. He celebrated a day too soon—the following -morning his business house was in ashes. - -To the few who were care-free in the sense that they had not lost -relatives or friends, the panorama of the fire when darkness came -on will never be forgotten because of the wonderful pyrotechnic -display—the magnificent yet appalling splendor and beauty of the -burning city. - -The scene was set as by a wonder-hand of stagecraft. The fire was raging -fiercely in an immense pit—topographically the lowest part of the -city. Around this pit the rising ground, like a Greek amphitheatre, -stretched up toward the Sutro Estate and Ricon Hill on the one side and -toward California Street, Nob and Telegraph Hills on the other. To the -east was Alcatraz like a sentinel in the waters; across the Bay the -cities of Alameda, Oakland and Berkeley. On every vantage point the -people gathered—on the heights of Alcatraz and on the roofs of -buildings in the trans-bay cities. In silence they gazed at the -awe-inspiring drama of destruction that was being enacted before them. - -With the advance of night, the towering flames in this vast sweep -of many miles of a circular fire line presented a scene that defies -description. The general color effect was of a deep blood red, while -the smoke as a background to the picture belched up in rolling black -volumes, with here and there long forks of flashing fire shooting above -the deep crimson glow of the mighty furnace. - -Before the roaring billows of flame the tallest buildings were as tinder -wood in their helplessness. The Call Building, lifting its head high -above its neighbors, was like an ignited match-box set on end. The -living flaming wall behind overtopped it as a giant does a pigmy. - -Nine o’clock! Ten o’clock! Midnight!—and those who watched and -waited and slept not, with nothing but excitement to stay their -hunger, saw in the lurid light that by a flank movement the fire had -unexpectedly crept far up Montgomery Street from the Ferry. The trade -winds were stirring. The fire, in its pulsing undulations, presented the -lure and the sensuous poetry of death. It barred all trespassing on the -one side and burnt its way through on the other. It was seen that the -entire banking district was doomed. Alas, the feeble protests of feeble -men! It was a wild outlaw, untamed and untamable fire, that defied all -human interference. - -And Chinatown—the world-noted Chinatown of San Francisco—what of -that? It too had gone the way of annihilation. They say brutality was -practiced, and it is whispered to this day that those in charge of -dynamiting the Chinatown section of the city were careless and did not -warn the inmates of opium dens—it is said they blew up many buildings -that held within them, or in the grottoes beneath, innumerable inmates. -Whether or not this is true no one can positively say. If true, there -is some excuse. The Chinese dwellings were honey-combed underground with -dark and devious passages, and it was perhaps impossible, for lack of -time and dearth of knowledge how to penetrate these hidden recesses, to -warn the drugged dreamers. - -In this district the fire raged as if possessed by a million devils. -Over the city’s tenderloin on the edge of Chinatown, it swept with a -flame of reckless wrath and purification. Buildings whose very timbers -were steeped in vice and immorality burned into ashes of cleanliness. -The haunts of the lustful, the wine-bibber and the dope-fiend were -consumed in a fashion horrible, terrible, pitiless and final. - -The city was burned into scrap iron of contortioned steel beams, ragged -chimneys half broken and heaps of blackened cinder. As the hours went -by it seemed the fire continually found new fuel to feed upon in its -savagery and madness. The accumulation of days and years of human labor -crumbled into nothingness. Thousands, then hundreds of thousands, then -millions, until the enormous total reached $600,000,000 of wealth that -was melted away in this fiery crucible! - -Egypt, cursed by Moses and weeping for its firstborn, was in no more -pitiable plight than this calamity-visited city of San Francisco shaken -by earthquake shock, then swept by fire. - -Four and one-half miles one way the fire travelled, then four and -one-half miles the other it burned its devastating way. Behind it in -its path of ruin were only cracked granite walls, twisted steel girders, -crumbling and broken cornices; before it, a scattering field of a few -untouched buildings yet to conquer. - -A Nero with an evil eye on a city’s undoing, and the power of a wicked -tyrant to fulfill his sordid wish, could have been no more ruthless in -his dastardly heartless methods of destruction. - -When the fire was finally ended the buildings that had been burned, if -placed in a row, would have extended for two hundred miles in a straight -line. - -Never in the world’s history has there been such a fire. The burning -of ancient London was child’s play beside it. Chicago’s fire was a -mere bagatelle. Never has the world read, never had the world dreamed, -of such a conflagration. In days to come, grandfathers will tell of it -to their grandchildren, nodding their sage old heads to emphasize the -horror of it all, relating to the young people who gather about their -knees, how great buildings supposed to be fire-proof crumpled up before -the swirling sheets of melting flame and the entire city became a prey -to the all-devouring conqueror. And this is the tragic story of proud -San Francisco, cosmic-tossed and fire-beleaguered capital of the -Occident. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by -Willis George Emerson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY -*** - -***** This file should be named 52461-0.txt or 52461-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/4/6/52461/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously provided by Google -Books - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be -renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and -trademark. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Treasure of Hidden Valley - -Author: Willis George Emerson - -Release Date: June 30, 2016 [EBook #52461] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by Google Books - - - - - - - - - -THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - -By Willis George Emerson - -Chicago: Forbes & Company - -1915 - - - - Sons of the rugged, rock-ribbed hills, - - Far from the gaudy show - - Of Fashion's world-its shams and frills - - Brothers of rain and snow: - - Kith of the crags and the forest pines, - - Kin of the herd and flock; - - Wise in the lore of Nature signs - - Writ in the grass and rock. - - - Beings of lithe and lusty limb, - - Breathing the broad, new life, - - Chanting the forest's primal hymn - - Free from the world's crude strife. - - Your witching lure my being thrills, - - O rugged sons! O rugged hills! - - - -[Illustration: 0002] - - -[Illustration: 0010] - - - -DEDICATED - -TO - -THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER - -REVEREND STEPHEN LAFAYETTE EMERSON - -(The Flockmaster of this story) - - - - - -THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - - - - -CHAPTER I--AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS - - -IT was a dear, crisp October morning. There was a shrill whistle of a -locomotive, and then a westbound passenger train dashed into the depot -of an Iowa town. A young man descended the car steps with an armful of -luggage. He deposited his parcels on the platform, and half expectantly -looked about him. - -Just then there was a "honk! honk!" from a huge automobile as it came to -a palpitating halt, and a familiar voice called out: "Hello, Roderick, -old man!" And a moment later Roderick Warfield was shaking hands with -his boon friend of former college days, Whitley Adams. Both were in -their early twenties, stalwart, well set up, clean-cut young fellows. - -Whitley's face was all aglow in the happiness of reunion. But Roderick, -after the first cordial greeting, wore a graver look. He listened -quietly while his comrade rambled on. - -"Mighty glad to receive your wire last night at the club. But what -brings you home so unexpectedly? We've been hearing all sorts of glowing -stories--about your being in the thick of affairs in little old New York -and rolling in the shekels to beat the band." - -"Fairy tales," was the laconic reply, accompanied by a look that was -compounded of a sigh and a wistful smile. - -"How's that?" asked young Adams, glancing up into the other's face -and for the first time noticing its serious expression. "Don't tell -me you've struck a financial snag thus early in your Stock Exchange -career." - -"Several financial snags--and struck 'em pretty badly too, I'm afraid." - -"Whew!" exclaimed Adams. - -"Oh, I'm not down and out," laughed Roderick, half amused at the look of -utter discomfiture on his companion's countenance. "Not by a long chalk! -I'm in on several good deals, and six months from date will be standing -on velvet. That is to say," he added, somewhat dubiously, "if Uncle -Allen opens up his money bags to tide me over meanwhile." - -"A pretty big 'if,' eh?" For the moment there was sympathetic sobriety -in the youth's tone, but he quickly regained his cheerfulness. "However, -he'll come through probably all right, Rod, dear boy. It's the older -fellows' privilege, isn't it? My good dad has had the same experience, -as you will no doubt have guessed. There, let me see; how long have you -been away? Eight months! Gee! However, I have just gotten home -myself. My old man was a bit furious at my tardiness in coming and the -geometrical increase of my expense account. To do Los Angeles and -San Francisco thoroughly, you know, runs into a pot of money. But now -everything is fixed up after a fashion with no evidence in sight of -further squalls." He laughed the laugh of an overgrown boy laboring -under the delusion that because he has finished a collegiate course he -is a "man." - -"Of course," he continued with a swagger, "we chaps who put in four long -years at college should not be expected to settle down without having -some sort of a valedictory fling." - -"There has not been much of a fling in my case," protested Warfield. "I -tackled life seriously in New York from the start." - -"But got a tumble all the same," grinned Adams. "However, there's no -use in pulling a long face--at least not until your Uncle Allen has been -interviewed and judiciously put through his paces. Come now, let us get -your things aboard." - -The conversation was halted while the young owner of the big 60 H. P. -car helped his chauffeur to stow away the luggage. "To the club," -he called out as he seated himself in the tonneau with his boyhood -friend--college chum and classmate. - -"Not this morning!" exclaimed Roderick, shaking his head as he looked -frankly and a bit nervously into the eyes of Whitley Adams. "No club for -me until I have squared things up on the hill." - -"Oh, well, just as you say; if it's as bad as that, why of course--" He -broke off and did not finish the sentence, but directed the chauffeur to -the residence of Allen Miller, the banker. - -They rode a little way in silence and then Whitley Adams observed: -"You've made a muddle of things, no doubt," and he turned with a knowing -look and a smile toward Roderick, who in turn flushed, as though hit. - -"No doubt," he concurred curtly. - -"Then when shall I see you?" asked Whitley as the auto slowed down at -the approach to the stately Miller home. - -"I'll 'phone you," replied Roderick. "Think I can arrange to be at the -club this evening." - -"Very well," said his friend, and a minute later he had whirled away -leaving a cloud of dust in the trail of the machine. - -Roderick Warfield met with a motherly reception at the hands of his Aunt -Lois, Mrs. Allen Miller. The greetings over and a score of solicitous -questions by his Aunt Lois answered, he went to his room for a bath and -a change of clothes. Then without further delay he presented himself at -the bank, and in a few moments was closeted in the president's private -room with his uncle and guardian, Allen Miller. - -The first friendly greetings were soon followed by the banker skidding -from social to business considerations. "Yes," said Allen Miller, "I am -glad to see you, Roderick, mighty glad. But what do you mean by writing -a day ahead that a good big sum is required immediately, this without -mention of securities or explanation of any kind?". He held up in his -hand a letter that ran to just a few niggardly lines. "This apology for -a business communication only reached me by last night's mail." - -The kindly look of greeting had changed to one that was fairly flinty in -its hardness. "What am I to expect from such a demand? A bunch of unpaid -accounts, I suppose." As he uttered this last sentence, there was a -wicked twang in his voice--a suggestion of the snarl of an angry wolf -ready for a fierce encounter. It at least proved him a financier. - -A flush of resentment stole over Roderick's brow. His look was more -than half-defiant. On his side it showed at once that there would be no -cringing for the favor he had come to ask. - -But he controlled himself, and spoke with perfect calm. - -"My obligations are not necessarily disgraceful ones, as your manner and -tone, Uncle, might imply. As for any detailed explanation by letter, -I thought it best to come and put the whole business before you -personally." - -"And the nature of the business?" asked the banker in a dry harsh voice. - -"I am in a big deal and have to find my _pro rat_ contribution -immediately." - -"A speculative deal?" rasped the old man. - -"Yes; I suppose it would be called speculative, but it is gilt-edged -all the same. I have all the papers here, and will show them to you." He -plunged a hand into the breast pocket of his coat and produced a neatly -folded little bundle of documents. - -"Stop," exclaimed the banker. "You need not even undo that piece of tape -until you have answered my questions. A speculative deal, you admit." - -"Be it so." - -"A mining deal, may I ask?" - -Roderick's face showed some confusion. But he faced the issue promptly -and squarely. - -"Yes, sir, a mining deal." - -The banker's eyes fairly glittered with steely wrathfulness. - -"As I expected. By gad, it seems to run in the blood! Did I not warn -you, when you insisted on risking your meagre capital of two thousand -dollars in New York instead of settling down with what would have been -a comfortable nest egg here, that if you ever touched mining it would -be your ruin? Did I not tell you your father's story, how the lure -of prospecting possessed him, how he could never throw it off, how it -doomed him to a life of hardship and poverty, and how it would have left -you, his child, a pauper but for an insurance policy which it was his -one redeeming act of prudence in carrying?" - -"Please do not speak like that of my father," protested Roderick, -drawing himself up with proud <md manly dignity. - -The banker's manner softened; a kindlier glow came into his eyes. - -"Well, boy, you know I loved your father. If your father had only -followed my path he would have shared my prosperity. But it was not to -be. He lost all he ever made in mining, and now you are flinging the -little provision his death secured for you into the same bottomless -pool. And this despite all my warnings, despite my stern injunctions -so long as it was my right as your guardian to enjoin. The whole thing -disgusts me more than words can tell." - -Into the banker's voice the old bitterness, if not the anger, had -returned. He rose and restlessly paced the room. A silence followed -that was oppressive. Roderick Warfield's mind was in the future; he was -wondering what would happen should his uncle remain obdurate. The older -man's mind was in the past; he was recalling events of the long ago. - -Roderick Warfield's father and Allen Miller had as young men braved -perils together in an unsuccessful overland trip when the great -California gold rush in the early fifties occurred. At that time they -were only boys in their 'teens. Years afterward they married sisters and -settled down in their Iowa homes--or tried to settle down in Warfield's -case, for in his wanderings he had been smitten with the gold fever -and he remained a mining nomad to the end of his days. Allen Miller -had never been blessed with a child, and it was not until late in their -married life that any addition came to the Warfield family. This was the -beginning of Roderick Warfield's career, but cost the mother's life. Ten -years later John Warfield died and his young son Roderick was given -a home with Mr. and Mrs. Allen Miller, the banker accepting the -guardianship of his old friend's only child. - -The boy's inheritance was limited to a few thousand dollars of life -insurance, which in the hands of anyone but Allen Miller would have -fallen far short of putting him through college. However, that was not -only accomplished, but at the close of a fairly brilliant college career -the young man had found himself possessed of a round couple of thousand -dollars. Among his college friends had been the son of a well-to-do New -York broker, and it was on this friend's advice that Roderick had at the -outset of his business life adventured the maelstrom of Gotham instead -of accepting the placid backwaters of his Iowan home town. Hence the -young man's present difficulties and precarious future, and his uncle's -bitterness of spirit because all his past efforts on Roderick's account -had proved of such little avail. - -At last the banker resumed his chair. The tightly closed lips showed -that his mind was made up to a definite line of action. Roderick awaited -the decision in silence--it was not in his nature to plead a cause at -the cost of losing his own self-respect He had already returned the -unopened bundle of mining papers to the inner pocket of his coat. - -"As for any advance to meet speculative mining commitments," began the -man of finance, "I do not even desire to know the amount you have had -in mind. That is a proposition I cannot even entertain--on principle and -for your own ultimate good, young man." - -"Then I lose all the money I have put in to date." - -"Better a present loss than hopeless future entanglements. Your -personal obligations? As you have been using all available funds for -speculation, I presume you are not free from some debts." - -"Less than a thousand dollars all told." - -"Well, you have, I believe, $285.75 standing to your personal credit in -this bank--the remnant of your patrimony." - -"I did not know I had so much," remarked Roderick with a faint smile. - -"All the better, perhaps," replied the banker, also smiling grimly. -"The amount would have doubtless been swallowed up with the rest of your -money. As matters stand, some payment can be made to account of your -obligations and arrangements entered into for the gradual liquidation of -the outstanding balance." Young Warfield winced. The banker continued: -"This may involve some personal humiliation for you. But again it is -against my principles to pay any man's debts. Anyone who deliberately -incurs a liability should have the highly beneficial experience of -earning the money to liquidate it I propose to give you the chance to do -so." - -Roderick raised his eyebrows in some surprise. "In New York?" he -enquired. - -"No, sir," replied Allen Miller rather brusquely and evidently nettled -at the very audacity of the question. "Not in New York, but right -here--in Keokuk. Calm your impatience, please. Just listen to the -proposals I have to make--they have been carefully thought out by me -and by your Aunt Lois as well. In the first place, despite your rather -reckless and improvident start in life, I am prepared to make you -assistant cashier of this bank at a good salary." Again Roderick -evinced amazement. He was quite nonplussed at his uncle's changed -demeanor. The conciliatory manner and kindly tone disarmed him. But -could he ever come to renounce his New York ambitions for humdrum -existence in the old river town of Keokuk? He knew the answer in his -heart. The thing was impossible. - -"And if you are diligent," continued the banker, "prove capable and -make good, you may expect in time to be rewarded with a liberal block -of stock in the bank. Come now, what do you say to this part of my -programme?" urged the speaker as Roderick hesitated. - -The young man's mind was already made up. The offer was not even worth -considering. And yet, he must not offend his guardian. It was true, -Allen Miller's guardianship days were past, but still in his rapid -mental calculations Roderick thought of his stanch old stand-by, Uncle -Allen Miller, as "Guardian." He lighted a cigar to gain time for the -framing of a diplomatic answer. - -"Well," said the banker, with a rising inflection, "does it require any -time to consider the generous offer I make?" - -Roderick pulled a long breath at his cigar and blew rings of smoke -toward the ceiling, and said: "Your offer, Uncle, is princely, but I -hardly feel that I should accept until I have thought it all over from -different points of view and have the whole question of my future plans -fully considered. What are the other items on your programme?" - -"They should be rather counted as conditions," replied the banker drily. -"The conditions on which the offer I have just made are based." - -"And they are what?" - -"You must quit speculation, give up all expensive habits, marry and -settle down." The words were spoken with all the definiteness of an -ultimatum. - -Again Roderick winced. He might have been led to all or at least some -of these things. But to be driven, and by such rough horse-breaking -methods--. never! no, never. He managed to restrain himself, however, -and replied quietly: "My dear uncle, the idea of marrying for some years -yet, to tell you the truth, has never entered my head. Of course," he -went on lightly, "there is a young lady over at Galesburg, Stella Rain, -where my Knox college days were spent, the 'college widow,' in a way a -very lovely sort and in whom I have been rather interested for some two -years, but--" - -"That will do, young man," interrupted Allen Miller, sharply and -severely. "Never mind your society flyers--these lady friends of yours -in Galesburg. Your Aunt Lois and myself have already selected your -future wife." - -He laughed hoarsely, and the laugh sounded brutal even to his own ears. -Allen Miller realized uncomfortably that he had been premature and -scored against himself. - -"Oh, is that so?" ejaculated Roderick in delicate irony. A pink flush -had stolen into his cheeks. - -The old banker hesitated in making reply. He grew hot and red and -wondered if he had begun his match-making too abruptly--the very thing -about which his good wife Lois had cautioned him. In truth, despite -the harsh methods often imposed on him by his profession as a banker, a -kinder heart than Allen Miller's never beat. But in this new rle he -was out of his element and readily confused. Finally after clearing his -throat several times, he replied: "Yes, Roderick, in a way, your Aunt -Lois and I have picked out the girl we want you to marry. Her father's -wealth is equal to mine and some day perhaps--well, you can't tell--I'll -not live always and, provided you don't disobey me, you may inherit -under my will a control of the stock of this banking house, and so be at -the head of an important and growing financial institution." - -Roderick instead of being fifty-four and calculating, was only -twenty-four and indifferent to wealth, and the red blood of his generous -youth revolted at the mercenary methods suggested by his uncle regarding -this unknown girl's financial prospects. And then, too, the inducement -thrown out that under conditions of obedience he might inherit the -fortune of his uncle, was, he interpreted, nothing short of an attempt -to bribe and deprive him of his liberty. He flushed with indignation and -anger. Yet with a strong effort he still controlled his feelings, and -presently asked: "Who is the fair lady?" - -"The daughter of an old friend of mine. They live only a short distance -down the river. Their home is at Quincy, Illinois. Mighty fine old -family, I can tell you. Am sure you'll like her immensely." - -"Am I to understand," asked Roderick rather caustically, "that the young -lady acquiesces and enters graciously into your plans?" - -"Well, I can't say that!" replied Allen Miller, rubbing his chin. "But -your Aunt Lois and I have talked over the possible alliance in all its -lights." - -"With the young lady's family, I presume?" - -"No, not even that. But we are perfectly certain that we have only to -speak the word to put the business through all right." - -"Business!"--Roderick repeated the word with bitter emphasis. - -"Yes, sir, business," retorted Allen Miller, with some warmth. "To my -mind matrimony is one of the most important deals in life--perhaps _the_ -most important." - -"If the money is right," laughed the young man contemptuously. "But -don't you think that before another word is said about such a matter -I should have the chance of seeing the young lady and the young lady a -chance of seeing me?" - -The humor of the situation had brought a pleasant smile to his face. The -banker looked relieved. - -"Wait now, my boy," he replied musingly. "Do you remember when you were -a little chap, perhaps twelve or thirteen years old, going with your -Aunt Lois and myself to St. Louis on the Diamond Joe boat line?" - -"Yes, I remember it perfectly." - -"Well, then," continued Allen Miller, "you perhaps haven't forgotten a -lady and gentleman with a little tot of a girl only five or six years -old, who joined us at Quincy. You engaged in a regular boyish love -affair at first sight with that little girl. Well, she is the one--a -mighty fine young lady now--just passed eighteen and her father is rated -away up in the financial world." - -For the moment Roderick's indignation over the cold-blooded, -cut-and-dried, matrimonial proposition was arrested, and he did not -even notice the renewed reference to finance. He had become pensive and -retrospective. - -"How very long ago," he mused more to himself than to his Uncle -Allen--"How very long ago since that trip down the river. Yes, I -remember well the little blue-eyed, black-curly-headed chick of a girl. -It was my first steamboat ride and of course it was a holiday and a -fairyland affair to my boyish fancy." - -He drew in a long breath and looked out through the window at the snow -which was now falling, as if many chapters of the world's history had -been written in his own life since that far away yet well remembered -trip. He fell silent for a spell. - -Allen Miller chuckled to himself. At last his scheme was working. -All his life he had been a success with men and affairs, and his -self-confidence was great. He rubbed his hands together and smiled, -while he humored Roderick's silence. He would tell his wife Lois of -his progress. Presently he said: "She is an only child, Roderick, and I -think her father could qualify for better than a quarter of a million." - -This time the reiterated money recommendation jarred unpleasantly on -Roderick's nerves and revived his antagonism. He hastily arose from his -chair and walked back and forth across the room. Presently he halted -before his uncle and with forced deliberation--for his anger was keyed -to a high tension--said: "I am pleased, Uncle, to know the young lady -is not a party to this shameful piece of attempted barter and sale -business. When I marry, if ever, it shall be someone as regards whom -wealth will count as of least importance. True love loathes avarice and -greed. I require no further time to consider your proposals. I flatly -reject your offer of a position in the bank, and shall leave Keokuk -tomorrow. I prefer hewing out my own destiny and while doing so -retaining my freedom and my self-respect. This is my decision, and it is -an irrevocable one." - -The ebullition of pent-up feelings had come so suddenly and unexpectedly -that Allen Miller was momentarily overwhelmed. He had arisen and was -noticeably agitated. His face was very white, and there was a look in -his eyes that Roderick Warfield had never seen before. - -"Young man," he said, and his voice was husky and trembling with -suppressed rage--"you shall never have a dollar of my fortune unless you -marry as I direct I will give you until tomorrow to agree to my plans. -If you do not desire to accept my offer without change or modification -in any shape, then take the balance of your money in the bank and go -your way. I wash my hands of you and your affairs. Go and play football -with the world or let the world play football with you, and see how it -feels to be the 'pigskin' in life's game." - -With these words the old man swung a chair round to the fireplace, -dropped into it, and began vigorously and viciously pounding at a lump -of coal. There was an interval of silence. At last Roderick spoke; his -voice was firm and low. - -"There will not be the slightest use, Uncle, in reopening this question -tomorrow. My mind, as I have said, is already made up--unalterably." The -last word was uttered with an emphasis that rang finality. - -The banker flung down the poker, and rose to his feet. His look was -equally determined, equally final, equally unalterable. - -"All right," he snapped. "Then we'll get through the banking business -now." - -He touched a push-button by the side of the mantel. During the brief -interval before a clerk responded to the summons, not another word was -spoken. - -"Bring me the exact figure of Mr. Warfield's credit balance," he said to -his subordinate, "and cash for the amount. He will sign a check to close -the account." - -Five minutes later Roderick had the little wad of bills in his pocket, -and was ready to depart Uncle and nephew were again alone. - -"There is one other matter," said the banker with cold formality. "There -is a paper in my possession which was entrusted to my keeping by your -father just before he died. I was to deliver it to you at my discretion -after you had attained your majority, but in any case on your reaching -the age of twenty-five. I will exercise my discretion, and hand over the -paper to you now." - -He advanced to a safe that stood open at one side of the room, unlocked -a little drawer, and returned to the fireplace with a long linen -envelope in his hand. A big red splash of wax showed that it had been -carefully sealed. - -"This is yours," said the banker shortly, handing it over to the young -man. - -The latter was greatly agitated. A message from his dead father! What -could it mean? But he mastered his emotions and quietly bestowed the -packet in his breast pocket--beside the papers connected with the mining -deal. - -"I'll read this later," he said. And then he extended his hand. There -was yearning affection in his eyes, in the tremor of his voice: "Uncle, -we surely will part as friends." - -"You can regain my friendship only by doing my will. I have nothing more -to say. Good-by." - -And without taking the proffered hand, Allen Miller turned away, leaning -an elbow on the mantelshelf. His attitude showed that the interview was -at an end. - -Without another word Roderick Warfield left the room. Outside the soft -snow was falling in feathery silence. At a street corner the young -man hesitated. He glanced up the road that led to his old home--Allen -Miller's stately mansion on the hill. Then he took the other turning. - -"I guess I'll sleep at the Club to-night," he murmured to himself. "I -can bid Aunt Lois good-by in the morning." - - - - -CHAPTER II--A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE - - -ALLEN MILLER, the rich banker, was alone--alone in the president's room -at his bank, and feeling alone in the fullest sense of the word now -that Roderick Warfield had gone, the youth he had reared and loved and -cherished as his own child, now turned out of doors by the old man's -deliberate act. - -For full an hour he walked slowly back and forth the whole length of the -apartment But at last he halted once again before the open grate where -some slumbering chunks of coal were burning indifferently. He pushed -them together with the iron poker, and a bright blaze sprung up. - -Looking deep into the fire his thoughts went back to his boyhood days -and he saw John Warfield, his chum of many years. He thought of their -experience in the terrible massacre in the Sierra Madre Mountains in the -region of Bridger Peak, of a lost trail, of hunger and thirst and weary -tramps over mountain and down precipitous canyons, of abrupt gashes that -cut the rocky gorges, of great bubbling springs and torrents of mountain -streams, of a narrow valley between high mountains--a valley without a -discoverable outlet--of a beautiful waterway that traversed this -valley and lost itself in the sides of an abrupt mountain, and of the -exhausting hardships in getting back to civilization. - -Then Allen Miller, the flint-hearted financier, the stoic, the man of -taciturn habits, did a strange thing. Standing there before the blazing -fire, leaning against the mantel, he put his handkerchief to his eyes -and his frame was convulsed with a sob. Presently he turned away from -the open grate and muttered aloud: "Yes, John Warfield, I loved you and -I love your boy, Roderick. Some day he shall have all I've got. But he -is self-willed--a regular outlaw--and I must wake him up to the demands -of a bread-winner, put the bits into his mouth and make him bridle-wise. -Gad! He's a dynamo, but I love him;" and he half smiled, while his eyes -were yet red and his voice husky. - -"Ah, John," he mused as he looked again into the fire, "you might have -been alive today to help me break this young colt to the plough, if you -had only taken my advice and given up the search for that gold mine -in the mountains. Thank God for the compact of secrecy between us--the -secret shall die with me. The years, John, you spent in trying to -re-dis-cover the vault of wealth--and what a will-o'-the-wisp it -proved to be--and then the accident. But now I shall be firm--firm as -a rock--and Roderick, the reckless would-be plunger, shall at last feel -the iron hand of his old guardian beneath the silken glove of my foolish -kindness. He's got to be subdued and broken, even if I have to let him -live on husks for a while. Firm, firm--that's the only thing to be." - -As he muttered the last words, Allen Miller shut his square jaws -together with an ugly snap that plainly told the stern policy he had -resolved on and would henceforth determinedly pursue. He put on his -great fur-lined cloak, and silently went out into the evening shadows -and thick maze of descending snow-flakes. - -Meanwhile Roderick Warfield had reached his club, engaged a bedroom, and -got a cheerful fire alight for companionship as well as comfort. He had -telephoned to Whitley Adams to dine with him, but for two hours he would -be by himself and undisturbed. He wanted a little time to think. And -then there was the letter from his father. He had settled himself in an -easy chair before the fire, the sealed envelope was in his hand, and the -strange solemn feeling had descended upon him that he was going to hear -his dead father speak to him again. - -There was in the silence that enveloped him the pulsing sensation of a -mysterious presence. The ordeal now to be faced came as a climax to the -stormy interview he had just passed through. He had reached a parting -of the ways, and dimly realized that something was going to happen that -would guide him as to the path he should follow. The letter seemed a -message from another world. Unknown to himself the supreme moment that -had now arrived was a moment of transfiguration--the youth became a -man--old things passed away. - -With grave deliberation he broke the seal. Inside the folds of a long -and closely written letter was a second cover with somewhat bulky -contents. This he laid for the meantime on a little table by his side. -Then he set himself to a perusal of the letter. It ran as follows: - -"My dear Son:-- - -"This is for you to read when you have come to man's estate--when you -are no longer a thoughtless boy, but a thoughtful man. With this letter -you will find your mother's picture and a ring of pure gold which -I placed upon her finger the day I married her--gold with a special -sentiment attached to it, for I took it from the earth myself--also a -few letters--love letters written by her to me and a tress of her hair. -I am sure you will honor her memory by noble deeds. I loved her dearly. - -"I was younger at the time than you are now, Roderick, my son. Your -Uncle Allen Miller--about my own age--and myself planned a trip to -California. It was at the time of the great gold excitement in that far -off land. - -"The Overland Train of some two score of ox teams that we were with -traveled but slowly; frequently not more than eight or ten miles a day. -I remembered we had crossed the south fork of the Platte River and had -traveled some two days on westward into the mountains and were near a -place called Bridger Peak. It must have been about midnight when our -camp was startled with the most terrific and unearthly yells ever heard -by mortals. It was a band of murderous Indians, and in less time than -it takes to describe the scene of devastation, all of our stock was -stampeded; our wagons looted and then set on fire. Following this a -general massacre began. Your Uncle Allen and myself, both of us mere -boys in our 'teens, alert and active, managed to make our escape in the -darkness. Being fleet of foot we ran along the mountain side, following -an opening but keeping close to a dense forest of pine trees. In this -way we saved our lives. I afterwards learned that every other member of -the party was killed. - -"We were each equipped with two revolvers and a bowie knife and perhaps -jointly had one hundred rounds of cartridges. A couple of pounds of -jerked beef and a half a loaf of bread constituted our provisions. -Fortunately, Allen Miller carried with him a flint and steel, so that -we were enabled to sustain ourselves with cooked food of game we killed -during the weary days that followed. - -"With this letter I enclose a map, roughly drawn, but I am sure it will -help you find the lost canyon where flows a beautiful stream of water, -and where your Uncle Allen and myself discovered an amazing quantity of -gold--placer gold. It is in a valley, and the sandbar of gold is about a -mile up stream from where the torrent of rapid water loses itself at -the lower end of the valley--seemingly flowing into the abrupt side of a -mountain. At the place where we found the gold, I remember, there was a -sandbar next to the mountain brook, then a gorge or pocket like an old -channel of a creek bed, and it was here in this old sandbar of a -channel that the nuggets of gold were found--so plentiful indeed, -that notwithstanding we loaded ourselves with them to the limit of -our strength, yet our 'takings' could scarcely be missed from this -phenomenal sandbar of riches. We brought all we could possibly -carry away with us in two bags which we made from extra clothing. -Unfortunately we lost our way and could not find an opening from -the valley, because the waters of the stream disappeared, as I have -described, and we were compelled, after many unsuccessful attempts to -find a water grade opening, to retrace our steps and climb out by the -same precipitous trail that we had followed in going down into this -strange valley. - -"We wandered in the mountains as far south as a place now known as -Hahn's Peak, and then eastward, circling in every direction for many -miles in extent. After tramping in an unknown wilderness for forty-seven -days we finally came to the hut of a mountaineer, and were overjoyed to -learn it was on a branch of the Overland trail Not long after this we -fell in with a returning caravan of ox team freighters and after many -weeks of tedious travel arrived at St. Joseph, Mo., footsore and weary, -but still in possession of our gold. A little later we reached our home -near Keokuk, Iowa, and to our great joy learned that our treasure was -worth many thousands of dollars. Your Uncle Allen Miller's half was the -beginning of his fortune. An oath of secrecy exists between your Uncle -Allen Miller and myself that neither shall divulge during our lifetime -that which I am now writing to you, but in thus communicating my story -to you, my own flesh and blood, I do not feel that I am violating my -promise, because the information will not come to you until years after -my death. - -"Since your mother's death, I have made seven trips into the Rocky -Mountain region hunting most diligently for an odd-shaped valley where -abrupt mountains wall it in, seemingly on every side, and where we found -the fabulously rich sandbar of gold. - -"But I have not succeeded in locating the exact place, not even finding -the lost stream--or rather the spot where the waters disappeared out of -sight at the base of a high mountain range. On my last trip, made -less than one year ago, I met with a most serious accident that has -permanently crippled me and will probably hasten my taking off. On the -map I have made many notes while lying here ill and confined to my room, -and they will give you my ideas of the location where the treasure may -be found. To you, my beloved son, Roderick, I entrust this map. Study it -well and if, as I believe, you have inherited my adventurous spirit, you -will never rest until you find this lost valley and its treasure box -of phenomenal wealth. In Rawlins, Wyoming, you will find an old -frontiersman by the name of Jim Rankin. He has two cronies, or partners, -Tom Sun and Boney Earnest. These three men rendered me great assistance. -If you find the lost mine, reward them liberally. - -"I have communicated to no one, not even your good Uncle Allen Miller, -that I have decided on leaving this letter, and the information which it -contains is for your eyes alone to peruse long after my mortal body has -crumbled to dust In imparting this information I do so feeling sure that -your Uncle Allen will never make any effort to relocate the treasure, so -that it is quite right and proper the secret should descend to you. - -"My pen drags a little--I am weary and quite exhausted with the effort -of writing. I now find myself wondering whether this legacy--a legacy -telling you of a lost gold mine that may be found somewhere in the -fastnesses of the mountains of Wyoming--will prove a blessing to you or -a disquieting evil. I shall die hoping that it will prove to your good -and that your efforts in seeking this lost mine will be rewarded. - -"With tenderest love and affection, - -"Your father, - -"John Warfield." - -When Roderick reached the end of the letter, he remained for a long -time still holding it in his hands and gazing fixedly into the glowing -embers. He was seeing visions--visions of a Wyoming gold mine that would -bring him unbounded wealth. At last he broke from his reveries, and -examined the other package. It was unsealed. The first paper to come -forth proved to be the map to which his father had referred--it was a -pencil drawing with numerous marginal notes that would require close -examination. For the present he laid the document on the table. Then -reverently and tenderly he examined the little bunch of love letters -tied together by a ribbon, the tress of hair placed between two -protecting pieces of cardboard, and the plain hoop of gold wrapped -carefully in several folds of tissue paper. Lastly he gazed upon the -photograph of his mother--the mother he had never seen, the mother who -had given her life so that he might live. There were tears in his eyes -as he gently kissed the sweet girlish countenance. - -With thought of her and memories of the old boyhood days again he fell -into a musing mood. Time sped unnoticed, and it was only the chiming of -a church clock outside that aroused him to the fact that the dinner hour -had arrived and that Whitley Adams would be waiting for him downstairs. -He carefully placed all the papers in a writing desk that stood in a -corner of the room, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Then he -descended to meet his friend. - -"Nothing doing, I can see," exclaimed Whitley the moment he saw -Roderick's grave face. - -"You've got it right," he answered quietly. "The big 'if' you feared -this morning turned out to be an uncompromising 'no.' Uncle Allen and I -have said good-by." - -"No wonder you are looking so glum." - -"Not glum, old fellow. I never felt more tranquilly happy in my life. -But naturally I may seem a bit serious. I have to cut out old things in -my life, take up new lines." - -"I suppose it's back to New York for you." - -"No. Everything goes by the board there. I have to cut my losses and -quit." - -"What a cruel sacrifice!" - -"Or what a happy release," smiled Roderick. "There is something calling -me elsewhere--a call I cannot resist--a call I believe that beckons me -to success." - -"Where?" - -"Well, we won't say anything about that at present I'll write you later -on when the outlook becomes clearer. Meanwhile we'll dine, and I'm going -to put up a little business proposition to you. I want you to buy my -half share in the _Black Swan._" - -"Guess that can be fixed up all right," replied Whitley, as they moved -toward the dining room. And, dull care laid aside, the two old college -chums gave themselves up to a pleasant evening--the last they would -spend together for many a long day, as both realized. - -By eleven o'clock next morning Roderick Warfield had adjusted his -financial affairs. He had received cash for his half interest in the -_Black Swan,_ a river pleasure launch which he and Whitley Adams had -owned in common for several years. He had written one letter, to New -York surrendering his holding in the mining syndicate, and other letters -to his three or four creditors enclosing bank drafts for one-half of -his indebtedness and requesting six months' time for the payment of -the balance. With less than a hundred dollars left he was cheerfully -prepared to face the world. - -Then had come the most painful episode of the whole visit--the parting -from Aunt Lois, the woman of gentle ways and kindly heart who had always -loved him like a mother, who loved him still, and who tearfully pleaded -with him to submit even at this eleventh hour to his uncle's will and -come back to his room in the old home. But the adieus had been spoken, -resolutely though tenderly, and now Whitley Adams in his big motor car -had whisked Roderick and his belongings back to the railway depot. - -He had barely time to check his trunk to Burlington and swing onto -the moving train. "So long," he shouted to his friend. "Good luck," -responded Whitley as he waved farewell. And Roderick Warfield was being -borne out into the big new world of venture and endeavor. - -Would he succeed in cuffing the ears of chance and conquer, or would -heartless fate play football with him and make him indeed the "pig-skin" -as his uncle had prophesied in the coming events of his destiny--a -destiny that was carrying him away among strangers and to unfamiliar -scenes? As the train rushed along his mind was full of his father's -letter and his blood tingled with excitement over the secret that had -come to him from the darkness of the very grave. The primal man within -him was crying out with mad impatience to be in the thick of the fierce -struggle for the golden spoil. - -A witchery was thrumming in his heart--the witchery of the West; and -instead of struggling against the impulse, he was actually encouraging -it to lead him blindly on toward an unsolved mystery of the hills. He -was lifted up into the heights, his soul filled with exalted thoughts -and hopes. - -Then came whisperings in a softer strain--gentle whisperings that -brought with them memories of happy college days and the name of Stella -Rain. It was perhaps nothing more nor less than the crude brutality with -which his uncle had pressed his meretricious matrimonial scheme that -caused Roderick now to think so longingly and so fondly of the -charming little "college widow" who had been the object of his youthful -aspirations. - -All at once he came to a resolution. Yes; he would spend at least one -day on the old campus grounds at Knox College. The call of the hills -was singing in his heart, the luring irresistible call. But before -responding to it he would once again press the hand and peep into the -eyes of Stella Rain. - - - - -CHAPTER III--FINANCIAL WOLVES - - -ON the very day following Roderick Warfield's departure from Keokuk -there appeared in one of the morning newspapers an item of intelligence -that greatly surprised and shocked the banker, Allen Miller. It -announced the death of the wife of his old friend General John Holden, -of Quincy, Illinois, and with the ghoulish instincts of latter-day -journalism laid bare a story of financial disaster that had, at least -indirectly, led to the lady's lamented demise. It set forth how some -years before the General had invested practically the whole of his -fortune in a western smelter company, how the minority stockholders had -been frozen out by a gang of financial sharps in Pennsylvania, and how -Mrs. Holden's already enfeebled health had been unable to withstand the -blow of swift and sudden family ruin. The General, however, was bearing -his sad bereavement and his monetary losses with the courage and -fortitude that had characterized his military career, and had announced -his intention of retiring to a lonely spot among the mountains of -Wyoming where his daughter, the beautiful and accomplished Gail Holden, -owned a half section of land which had been gifted to her in early -infancy by an unde, a prominent business man in San Francisco. Allen -Miller was sincerely grieved over the misfortunes that had so cruelly -smitten a life-long friend. But what momentarily stunned him was the -thought that Gail Holden was the very girl designated, in mind at least, -by himself and his wife as a desirable match for Roderick. And because -the latter had not at once fallen in with these matrimonial plans, there -had been the bitter quarrel, the stinging words of rebuke that could -never be recalled, and the departure of the young man, as he had told -his aunt, to places where they would never hear of him unless and until -he had made his own fortune in the world. - -As the newspaper dropped from his hands, the old banker uttered a great -groan--he had sacrificed the boy, whom in his heart he had cherished, -and still cherished, as a son, for a visionary scheme that had already -vanished into nothingness like a fragile iridescent soap-bubble. For -obviously Gail Holden, her only possessions an impoverished father and a -few acres of rocky soil, was no longer eligible as the bride of a future -bank president and leader in the financial world. The one crumb of -consolation for Allen Miller was that he had never mentioned her name -to Roderick--that when the sponge of time came to efface the quarrel the -whole incident could be consigned to oblivion without any humiliating -admission on his side. For financial foresight was the very essence of -his faith in himself, his hold over Roderick, and his reputation in the -business world. - -The afternoon mail brought detailed news of General Holden's speculative -venture and downfall. Allen Miller's correspondent was a lawyer friend -in Quincy, who wrote in strict confidence but with a free and sharply -pointed pen. It appeared that Holden's initial investment had been on a -sound basis. He had held bonds that were underlying securities on a big -smelting plant in Wyoming, in the very district where his daughter's -patch of range lands was situated. It was during a visit to the -little ranch that the general's attention had been drawn to the great -possibilities of a local smelter, and he had been the main one to -finance the proposition and render the erection of the plant possible. -At this stage a group of eastern capitalists had been attracted to the -region, and there had come to be mooted a big consolidation of several -companies, an electric lighting plant, an aerial tramway, a valuable -producing copper mine and several other different concerns that were -closely associated with the smelting enterprise. - -In the days that followed a Pennsylvanian financier with a lightning rod -education, by the name of W. B. Grady had visited Holden at his Quincy -home, partaken of his hospitality, and persuaded him to exchange his -underlying bonds for stock in a re-organized and consolidated company. - -By reputation this man Grady was already well known to Allen Miller as -one belonging to the new school of unscrupulous stock manipulators that -has grown up, developed, flourished and waxed fat under the blighting -influence and domination of the Well Known Oil crowd. This new school -of financiers is composed of financial degenerates, where the words -"honor," "fair dealing" or the "square deal" have all been effectually -expunged--marked off from their business vocabulary and by them regarded -as obsolete terms. Grady was still a comparatively young man, of -attractive manners and commanding presence, with the rapacity, however, -of a wolf and the cunning of a fox. He stood fully six feet, and his -hair, once black as a raven's, was now streaked with premature gray -which was in no way traceable to early piety. But to have mentioned his -name even in a remote comparison to such a respectable bird as the raven -rendered an apology due to the raven. It was more consistent with the -eternal truth and fitness of things to substitute the term "vulture"--to -designate him "a financial vulture," that detestable bird of prey whose -chief occupation is feasting on carrion and all things where the life -has been squeezed out by the financial octopus, known as "the system." - -It developed, according to Banker Miller's correspondent, that no sooner -had General Holden given up his underlying bonds of the smelter company -and accepted stock, than foreclosure proceedings were instituted in the -U. S. District Court, and the whole business closed out and sold and -grabbed by Grady and a small coterie of financial pirates no better than -himself. And all this was done many hundreds of miles away from the -home of the unsuspecting old general, who until it was too late remained -wholly ignorant and unadvised of the true character of the suave and -pleasant appearing Mr. Grady whose promises were innumerable, yet whose -every promise was based upon a despicable prevarication. - -And thus it was when the affairs of General Holden were fairly threshed -out, that Allen Miller discovered his old friend had been the prey of -a financial vampire, one skilled in sharp practice and whose artful -cunning technically protected him from being arrested and convicted of -looting the victim of his fortune. Holden had fallen into the hands of -a highwayman as vicious as any stage robber that ever infested the -highways of the frontier. The evidence of the fellow's rascality was -most apparent; indeed, he was in a way caught redhanded with the goods -as surely as ever a sheep-killing dog was found with wool on its teeth. - -To the credit of Allen Miller, he never hesitated or wavered in his -generosity to anyone he counted as a true and worthy friend. That -very evening Mrs. Miller departed for Quincy, to offer in person more -discreetly than a letter could offer any financial assistance that might -be required to meet present emergencies, and at the same time convey -sympathy to the husband and daughter in their sad bereavement. - -"Lois, my dear," the banker had said to his wife, "remain a few days -with them if necessary. Make them comfortable, no matter what the -expense. If they had means they wouldn't need us, but now--well, no -difference about the why and wherefore--you just go and comfort and help -them materially and substantially." - -It was in such a deed as this that the true nobility of Allen Miller's -character shone forth like a star of the brightest magnitude--a star -guaranteeing forgiveness of all his blunders and stupid attempts to curb -the impulsive and proud spirit of Roderick War-field Yet sympathy for -Gail and her father in no way condoned their poverty to his judgment -as a man of finance or reinstated the girl as an eligible match for the -young man. He would have been glad of tidings of Roderick--to have him -home again and the offensive matrimonial condition he had attached to -his offer of an appointment in the bank finally eliminated. - -But there was no news, and meanwhile his wife had returned from her -mission, to report that the Holdens, while sincerely grateful, had -declined all offers of assistance. As Mrs. Miller described, it was the -girl herself who had declared, with the light of quiet self-reliance in -her eyes, that by working the ranch in Wyoming as she proposed to work -it there would be ample provision for her father's little luxuries and -her own simple needs. - -So Allen Miller put Gail Holden out of mind. But he had many secret -heartaches over his rupture with Roderick, and every little stack of -mail matter laid upon his desk was eagerly turned over in the hope that -at last the wanderer's whereabouts would be disclosed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV.--THE COLLEGE WIDOW - - -STELLA RAIN belonged to one of the first families of Galesburg. Their -beautiful home, an old style Southern mansion, painted white with green -shutters, was just across from the college campus ground. It was the -usual fate of seniors about to pass out of Knox College to be in love, -avowedly or secretly, with this fair "college widow." She was petite of -form and face, and had a beautiful smile that radiated cheerfulness to -the scores of college boys. There was a merry-come-on twinkle in her -eyes that set the hearts of the young farmer lad students and the city -chaps as well, in tumultuous riot. Beneath it all she was kind of heart, -and it was this innate consideration for others that caused her to -introduce all the new boys and the old ones too, as they came to college -year after year, to Galesburg's fairest girls. She was ready to fit in -anywhere--a true "college widow" in the broadest sense of the term. Her -parents were wealthy and she had no greater ambition than to be a queen -among the college boys. Those who knew her best said that she would live -and die a spinster because of her inability to select someone from among -the hundreds of her admirers. Others said she had had a serious affair -of the heart when quite young. But that was several years before -Roderick Warfield had come upon the scene and been in due course smitten -by her charms. How badly smitten he only now fully realized when, after -nearly a year of absence, he found himself once again tte--tte with -her in the old familiar drawing-room of her home. - -There had been an hour of pleasant desultory conversation, the exchange -of reminiscences and of little sympathetic confidences, a subtly growing -tension in the situation which she had somewhat abruptly broken by going -to the piano and dashing off a brilliant Hungarian rhapsody. - -"And so you are determined to go West?" she inquired as she rose to -select from the cabinet another sheet of music. - -"Yes," replied Roderick, "I'm going far West. I am going after a -fortune." - -"How courageous you are," she replied, glancing at him over her shoulder -with merry, twinkling eyes, as if she were proud of his ambition. - -"Stella," said Roderick, as she returned to the piano, where he was now -standing. - -"Yes?" said she, looking up encouragingly. - -"Why; you see, Stella--you don't mind me telling you--well, Stella, if I -find the lost gold mine--" - -"If you find what?" she exclaimed. - -"Oh, I mean," said Roderick in confusion, "I mean if I find a fortune. -Don't you know, if I get rich out in that western country--" - -"And I hope and believe you will," broke in Stella, vivaciously. - -"Yes--I say, if I do succeed, may I come back for you--yes, marry you, -and will you go out there with me to live?" - -"Oh, Roderick, are you jesting now? You are just one of these -mischievous college boys trying to touch the heart of the little college -widow." She laughed gaily at him, as if full of disbelief. - -"No," protested Roderick, "I am sincere." - -Stella Rain looked at him a moment in admiration. He was tall and -strong--a veritable athlete. His face was oval and yet there was a -square-jawed effect in its moulding. His eyes were dark and luminous -and frank, and wore a look of matureness, of determined purpose, she had -never seen there before. Finally she asked: "Do you know, Roderick, how -old I am?" - -As Roderick looked at her he saw there was plaintive regret in her dark -sincere eyes. There was no merry-come-on in them now; at last she was -serious. - -"Why, no," said Roderick, "I don't know how old you are and I don't -care. I only know that you appeal to me more than any other woman I have -ever met, and all the boys like, you, and I love you, and I want you for -my wife." - -"Sit down here by my side," said Stella. "Let me talk to you in great -frankness." - -Roderick seated himself by her side and reaching over took one of her -hands in his. He fondled it with appreciation--it was small, delicate -and tapering. - -"Roderick," she said, "my heart was given to a college boy when I was -only eighteen years old. He went away to his home in an eastern state, -and then he forgot me and married the girl he had gone to school with as -a little boy--during the red apple period of their lives. It pleased -his family better and perhaps it was better; and it will not please your -family, Roderick, if you marry me." - -"My family be hanged," said Roderick with emphasis. "I have just had a -quarrel with my uncle, Allen Miller, and I am alone in the world. I have -no family. If you become my wife, why, we'll--. we'll be a family to -ourselves." - -Stella smiled sadly and said: "You enthusiastic boy. How old are you, -Roderick?" - -"I am twenty-four and getting older every day." They both laughed and -Stella sighed and said: "Oh, dear, how the years are running against -us--I mean running against me. No, no," she said, half to herself, "it -never can be--it is impossible." - -"What," said Roderick, rising to his feet, and at the same moment she -also stood before him--"What's impossible? Is it impossible for you to -love me?" - -"No, not that," said Stella, and he noticed tears in her eyes. -"No, Roderick," and she stood before him holding both his hands in -hers--"Listen," she said, "listen!" - -"I am all attention," said Roderick. - -"I will tell you how it will all end--we will never marry." - -"Well, I say we shall marry," said Roderick. "If you will have me--if -you love me--for I love you better than all else on earth." He started -to take her in his arms and she raised her hand remonstratingly, and -said: "Wait! Here is what I mean," and she looked up at him helplessly. -"I mean,"--she was speaking slowly--"I mean that you believe today, this -hour, this minute that you want me for your wife." - -"I certainly do," insisted Roderick, emphatically. - -"Yes, but wait--wait until I finish. I will promise to be your wife, -Roderick--yes, I will promise--if you come for me I will marry you. But, -oh, Roderick,"--and there were tears this time in her voice as well as -in her eyes--"You will never come back--you will meet others not so old -as I am, for I am very, very old, and tonight I feel that I would give -worlds and worlds if they were mine to give, were I young once again. -Of course, in your youthful generosity you don't know what the -disparagement of age means between husband and wife, when the husband is -younger. A man may be a score of years older than a woman and all will -be well--if they grow old together. It is God's way. But if a woman -is eight or ten years older than her husband, it is all different. No, -Roderick, don't take me in your arms, don't even kiss me until I bid you -good-by when you start for that gold' mine of yours"--and as she said -this she tried to laugh in her old way. - -"You seem to think," said Roderick in a half-vexed, determined tone, -"that I don't know my own mind--that I do not know my own heart. Why, do -you know, Stella, I have never loved any other girl nor ever had even a -love affair?" - -She looked at him quickly and said: "Roderick, that's just the -trouble--you do not know--you cannot make a comparison, nor you won't -know until the other girl comes along. And then, then," she said -wearily, "I shall be weighed in the balance and found wanting, -because--oh, Roderick, I am so old, and I am so sorry--" and she turned -away and hid her face in her hands. "I believe in you and I could love -you with all my strength and soul. I am willing--listen Roderick," she -put up her hands protectingly, "don't be impatient--I am willing to -believe that you will be constant--that you will come back--I am willing -to promise to be your wife." - -"You make me the happiest man in the world," exclaimed Roderick, -crushing her to him with a sense of possession. - -"But there is one promise I am going to ask you to make," she said. - -"Yes, yes," said he, "I will promise anything." - -"Well, it is this: If the other girl should come along, don't fail to -follow the inclination of your heart, for I could not be your wife and -believe that the image of another woman was kept sacredly hidden away in -the deep recesses of your soul. Do you understand?" There was something -in her words--something in the way she spoke them--something in the -thought, that struck Roderick as love itself, and it pleased him, -because love is unselfish. Then he remembered that as yet he was -penniless--it stung him. However, the world was before him and he -must carve out a future and a fortune. It might take years, and in the -meantime what of Stella Rain, who was even now deploring her many years? -She would be getting older, and her chances, perhaps, for finding a home -and settling down with a husband would be less and less. - -But he knew there was no such thought of selfishness on her part--her -very unselfishness appealed to him strongly and added a touch of -chivalry to his determination. - -Stella Rain sank into a cushioned chair and rested her chin upon one -hand while, reaching to the piano keys with the other, she thrummed -them softly. Roderick walked back and forth slowly before her in deep -meditation. At last he paused and said: "I love you, I will prove I am -worthy. There is no time to lose. The hour grows late. I have but an -hour to reach my hotel, get my luggage and go to the depot I am going -West tonight I will come for you within one year, provided I make my -fortune; and I firmly believe in my destiny. If not--if I do not come--I -will release you from your betrothal, if it is your wish that I do so." - -Stella Rain laughed more naturally, and the old "come-on" twinkling was -in her eyes again as she said: "Roderick, I don't want to be released, -because I love you very, very much. It is not that--it's because--well, -no difference--if you come, Roderick," and she raised her hand to him -from the piano--"if you come, and still want me to be your wife, I will -go with you and live in the mountains or the remotest corner of the -earth." - -He took her hand in both his own and kissed it tenderly. "Very well, -Stella,--you make it plain to me. But you shall see--you shall see," and -he looked squarely into her beautiful eyes. - -"Yes," she said, rising to her feet, "we shall see, Roderick, we shall -see. And do you know," the twinkling was now gone from her eyes once -more and she became serious again--"do you know, Roderick, it is the -dearest hope of my life that you will come? But I shall love you just as -much as I do now, Roderick, if for any cause--for whatever reason--you -do not come. Do you understand?" - -"But," interposed Roderick, "we are betrothed, are we not?" - -She looked at him and said, smiling half sadly: "Surely, Roderick, we -are betrothed." - -He put his big strong hands up to her cheeks, lifted her face to his and -kissed her reverently. Then with a hasty good-by he turned and was gone. - -As Roderick hurried across the old campus he felt the elation of a -gladiator. Of course, he would win in life's battle, and would return -for Stella Rain, the dearest girl in all the world. The stars -were twinkling bright, the moon in the heavens was in the last -quarter--bright moon and stars, fit companions for him in his -all-conquering spirit of optimism. - - - - -CHAPTER V.--WESTWARD HO! - - -AS the train rumbled along carrying Roderick back to Burlington, he was -lost in reverie and exultation. He was making plans for a mighty future, -into which now a romance of love was interwoven as well as the romance -of a mysterious gold mine awaiting rediscovery in some hidden valley -among rugged mountains. Yes; he would lose no further time in starting -out for Wyoming. The winning of the one treasure meant the winning -of the other--the making of both his own. As he dreamed of wealth -unbounded, there was always singing in his heart the name of Stella -Rain. - -Next day he was aboard a westbound train, booked for Rawlins, Wyoming, -where, as his father's letter had directed, he was likely to find the -old frontiersman, Jim Rankin; perhaps also the other "cronies" referred -to by name, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest At Omaha a young westerner boarded -the train, and took a seat in the Pullman car opposite to Roderick. In -easy western style the two fell into conversation, and Roderick -soon learned that the newcomer's name was Grant Jones, that he was a -newspaper man by calling and resided in Dillon, Wyoming, right in the -midst of the rich copper mines. - -"We are just over the mountain," explained Jones, "from the town of -Encampment, where the big smelter is located." - -As the train sped along and they became better acquainted, Grant Jones -pointed out to Roderick a dignified gentleman with glasses and a gray -mustache occupying a seat well to the front of the car, and told -him that this particular individual was no other than the "Boss of -Montana"--Senator "Fence Everything" Greed. Jones laughed heartily at -the name. - -"Of course, he is the U. S. Senator from Montana," continued Jones, -soberly, "and his name is F. E. Greed. His enemies out in Montana will -be highly pleased at the new name I have given him--'Fence Everything,' -because he has fenced in over 150,000 acres of Government land, it is -claimed, and run the actual home-settlers out of his fenced enclosures -while his immense herds of cattle trampled under foot and ate up the -poor evicted people's crops. Oh, he's some 'boss,' all right, all -right." - -"Why," exclaimed Roderick, "that's lawlessness." - -Grant Jones turned and looked at Roderick and said: "The rich are never -lawless, especially United States Senators--not out in Montana. Why, -bless your heart, they say the superintendent of his ranch is on the -payroll down at Washington at $1800 a year. - -"Likewise the superintendent of the electric lighting plant which -Senator Greed owns, as well as the superintendent of his big general -store, are said to be on the government payroll. - -"It has also been charged that his son was on the public payroll while -at college. Oh, no, it is not lawless; it is just a dignified form of -graft. Of course," Jones went on with arched eyebrows, "I remember one -case where a homesteader shot one of the Senator's fatted cattle--fine -stock, blooded, you know. It was perhaps worth $100. Of course the -man was arrested, had a 'fair trial' and is now doing time in the -penitentiary. In the meantime, his wife and little children have been -sent back East to her people. You see," said Jones, smiling, "this small -rancher, both poor in purse and without influence, was foolish enough -to lose his temper because five or six hundred head of Senator Greed's -cattle were driven by his cowboys over the rancher's land and the cattle -incidentally, as they went along, ate up his crops. Little thing to get -angry about, wasn't it?" and Jones laughed sarcastically. - -"Well, don't the state conventions pass resolutions denouncing their U. -S. Senator for such cold-blooded tyrannizing methods?" - -"If the state of Montana," replied Grant Jones, "should ever hold a -state convention of its representative people--the bone and sinew of -its sovereign citizens, why, they would not only retire Senator Greed to -private life, but they would consign him to the warmer regions." - -"You surprise me," replied Roderick. "I supposed that every state held -conventions--delegates you know, from each county." - -"They think they do," said Jones, winking one eye, "but they are only -ratification meetings. The 'Boss,'" he continued, nodding his head -towards Senator Greed, "has his faithful lieutenants in each precinct -of every county. His henchmen select the alleged delegates and when -they all get together in a so-called state convention they are by -pre-arrangement program men. The slate is fixed up by the 'Boss' and is -duly ratified without a hitch. Therefore instead of being a convention -representing the people it is a great big farce--a ratification picnic -where 'plums' are dealt out and the ears of any who become fractious -duly cuffed." - -At Grand Island in the afternoon, during a stop while engines were -changed, Roderick left the train and stretched his legs by walking up -and down the depot platform. Here he saw Grant Jones in a new rle. -Notwithstanding Jones was in rough western garb--khaki Norfolk coat, -trousers to match, and leather leggings--yet he was the center of -attraction for a bevy of young ladies. Two of these in particular were -remarkable for their beauty; both had the same burnished golden hair -and large brown eyes; they were almost identical in height and figure, -petite and graceful, dressed alike, so that anyone at a first glance -would have recognized them to be not only sisters but doubtless twins. - -When the train was about ready to start, these two girls bade adieu to -their numerous friends and permitted Grant Jones with all the gallantry -of a Beau Brummel to assist them onto the car. - -Later Grant Jones took great pains to assure Roderick that it was -a pleasure to introduce him to the Misses Barbara and Dorothy -Shields--"Two of our' mountain wild flowers," Grant said, laughing -pleasantly, "who reside with their people way over south in the Wyoming -hills, not far from Encampment, on one of the biggest cattle ranges in -the state." - -Roderick, already captivated by the whole-souled, frank manner of Grant -Jones, now found himself much interested in the beautiful twin sisters -as well. Hour followed hour in bright and sprightly conversation, and -soon the tenderfoot who had been inclined to condole with himself as a -lonely stranger among strangers was feeling quite at home in the great -western world of hospitable welcome and good comradeship. - -At an early hour next morning Grant Jones, the Shields girls and a dozen -other people left the train at the little town of Walcott. They extended -hearty invitations for Roderick to come over to southern Wyoming to -see the country, its great mines and the big smelter. "If you pay us -a visit," said Grant Jones, laughing, "I'll promise you a fine big -personal in the _Dillon Doublejack_, of which mighty organ of public -opinion I have the honor to be editor." - -Roderick, with a bow of due reverence for his editorial majesty and a -bright smile for the sisters, promised that he likely would make the -trip before very long. Then he swung himself onto the already moving -train and continued his westward journey to Rawlins. - - - - -CHAPTER VI.--RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN - - -IT was seven o'clock the same morning when Roderick left the train at -Rawlins. - -The raw, cold wind was blowing a terrific gale, the streets were -deserted save for a few half drunken stragglers who had been making a -night of it, going the rounds of saloons and gambling dens. - -A bright-faced lad took charge of the mail bags, threw them into a push -cart and started rumbling away up the street. Warfield followed and -coming up with him inquired for a hotel. - -"Right over there is the Ferris House," said the young fellow, nodding -his head in the direction indicated. - -As Roderick approached the hotel he met a grizzled keen-eyed -frontiersman who saluted him with a friendly "Hello, partner, you be a -stranger in these yere parts, I'm assoomin'." - -"Yes, I just arrived on this morning's train." - -"Waal, my handle is Jim Rankin. Been prospectin' the range hereabouts -nigh thirty years; uster be sheriff of this yere county when people -wuz hostile a plenty--have the best livery stable today in Wyomin', and -always glad to see strangers loiterin' 'round and help 'em to git their -bearin's if I can be of service--you bet I am." - -Thus early had Roderick encountered his father's old friend. He was -delighted, but for the present kept his own counsel. A more fitting time -and place must be found to tell the reason of his coming. - -"Thank you," he contented himself with saying as he accepted the -frontiersman's hand of welcome; "glad to meet you, Mr. Rankin." - -"Here, boy," shouted the latter to an attache of the hotel, "take care -of this yere baggage; it belongs to this yere gentleman, a dangnation -good friend uv mine. He'll be back soon fur breakfast. Come on, -stranger, let's go over to Wren's. I'm as dry as a fish." - -Roderick smiled and turning about, accompanied his new discovery down -the street to Wren's. As they walked along Rankin said: "Here's my barn -and here's the alley. We'll turn in here and get into Wren's by the back -door. I never pester the front door. Lots uv fellers git a heap careless -with their artillery on front steps that are docile 'nuff inside." -As they passed through a back gate, Jim Rankin, the typical old-time -westerner, pushed his hat well back on his head, fished out of his -pocket a pouch of "fine cut" tobacco, and stowing away a large wad in -his mouth began masticating rapidly, like an automobile on the low -gear. Between vigorous "chaws" he observed that the sun would be up in a -"minute" and then the wind would go down. "Strange but true as gospel," -he chuckled--perhaps at his superior knowledge of the West--"when the -sun comes up the wind goes down." - -He expectorated a huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at an old ash barrel, -wiped his iron gray mustache with the back of his hand, pushed open the -back door of the saloon and invited Roderick to enter. - -A fire was burning briskly in a round sheet iron stove, and a half dozen -wooden-backed chairs were distributed about a round-topped table covered -with a green cloth. - -Rankin touched a press button, and when a white-aproned waiter responded -and stood with a silent look of inquiry on his face the frontiersman -cleared his throat and said: "A dry Martini fur me; what pizen do you -nominate, partner?" - -"Same," was Roderick's rather abbreviated reply as he took in the -surroundings with a furtive glance. - -As soon as the waiter retired to fill the orders, Roderick's new found -friend pulled a coal scuttle close to his chair to serve as a receptacle -for his tobacco expectorations, and began: "You see, speakin' wide open -like, I know all these yere fellers--know 'em like a book. Out at the -bar in front is a lot uv booze-fightin' sheep herders makin' things gay -and genial, mixin' up with a lot uv discharged railroad men. Been makin' -some big shipments uv sheep east, lately, and when they get tumultuous -like with a whole night's jag of red liquor under their belt, they -forgit about the true artickle uv manhood and I cut 'em out. Hope -they'll get away afore the cattle men come in from over north, otherwise -there'll be plenty uv ugly shootin'. Last year we made seven new graves -back there," and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "seven graves -as a result uv a lot uv sheep herders and cow punchers tryin' to do the -perlite thing here at Wren's parlors the same night They got to shootin' -in a onrestrained fashion and a heap careless. You bet if I wuz sheriff -uv this yere county agin I'd see to it that law and order had the long -end uv the stick--though I must allow they did git hostile and hang -Big Nose George when I wuz in office," he added after a pause. Then he -chuckled quietly to himself, for the moment lost in retrospection. - -Presently the waiter brought in the drinks and when he retired Rankin -got up very cautiously, tried the door to see if it was tightly shut. -Coming back to the table and seating himself he lifted his glass, but -before drinking said: "Say, pard, I don't want to be too presumin', but -what's your handle?" - -Roderick felt that the proper moment had arrived, and went straight to -his story. - -"My name is Roderick Warfield. I am the son of John Warfield with whom -I believe you had some acquaintance a number of years ago. My father is -dead, as you doubtless may have heard--died some fourteen years since. -He left a letter for me which only recently came into my possession, -and in the letter he spoke of three men--Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney -Earnest." - -As Roderick was speaking, the frontiersman reverently returned his -cocktail to the table. - -"Geewhillikins!" he exclaimed, "you the son uv John Warfield! Well, I'll -be jiggered. This just nachurly gits on my wind. Shake, young man." -And Jim Rankin gave Roderick's hand the clinch of a vise; "I'm a mighty -sight more than delighted to see you, and you can count on my advice and -help, every day in the week and Sundays thrown in. As you're a stranger -in these parts, I'm assoomin' you'll need it a plenty, you bet. Gee, but -I'm as glad to see you as I'd be to see a brother. Let's drink to the -memory uv your good father." - -He again lifted his cocktail and Roderick joined him by picking up a -side glass of water. - -"What?" asked Rankin, "not drinkin' yer cocktail? What's squirmin' in -yer vitals?" - -"I drink nothing stronger than water," replied Roderick, looking -his father's old friend squarely in the eyes. Thus early in their -association he was glad to settle this issue once and for all time. - -"Shake again," said Rankin, after tossing off his drink at a single -swallow and setting down his empty glass, "you sure 'nuff are the son -uv John Warfield. Wuz with him off and on fur many a year and he never -drank spirits under no circumstances. You bet I wuz just nachurly so -dangnation flabbergasted at meetin' yer I got plumb locoed and sure did -fergit. Boney and Tom and me often speak uv him to this day, and they'll -be dangnation glad to see you." - -"So you're all three still in the ring?" queried Roderick with a smile. - -"Bet yer life," replied Rankin sturdily. "Why, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest -and me have been chums fur nigh on to thirty years. They're the best -scouts that ever hunted in the hills. They're the chaps who put up my -name at the convenshun, got me nominated and then elected me sheriff of -this yere county over twenty-five years ago. Gosh but I'm certainly glad -to see yer and that's my attitood." He smiled broadly. - -"Now, Warfield," he continued, "what yer out here fur? But first, hold -on a minute afore yer prognosticate yer answer. Just shove that 'tother -cocktail over this way--dangnation afeerd you'll spill it; no use -letting it go to waste." - -"I've come," replied Roderick, smiling and pushing the cocktail across -to Jim Rankin, "to grow up with the country. A young fellow when he gets -through college days has got to get out and do something, and some way -I've drifted out to Wyoming to try and make a start. I have lots of good -health, but precious little money." - -Jim Rankin drank the remaining cocktail, pulled his chair a little -closer to Roderick's and spoke in a stage whisper: "You know, I'm -assoomin', what yer father was huntin' fur when he got hurt?" - -Roderick flushed slightly and remained silent for a moment. Was it -possible that his father's old friend, Jim Rankin, knew of the lost -mine? Finally he replied: "Well, yes, I know in a general way." - -"Don't speak too dangnation loud," enjoined Rankin. "Come on and we'll -hike out uv this and go into one uv the back stalls uv my livery stable. -This's no place to talk about sich things--even walls have ears." - -As they went out again by the back door the morning sun was looking at -them from the rim of the eastern hills. Side by side and in silence they -walked along the alley to the street, then turned and went into a big -barn-like building bearing a sign-board inscribed: "Rankin's Livery, -Feed and Sale Stable." - -Although there was not a soul in sight, Rankin led his new acquaintance -far back to the rear of the building. As they passed, a dozen or more -horses whinnied, impatient for their morning feed. - -Cautiously and without a word being spoken they went into an empty stall -in a far corner, and there in a deep whisper, Rankin said: "I know the -hull shootin' match about that 'ere lost gold mine, but Tom and Boney -don't--they've been peevish, good and plenty, two or three different -times thinkin' I know'd suthin' they didn't. Not a blamed thing does -anybody know but me, you bet I went with your father on three different -trips, but we didn't quite locate the place. I believe it's on Jack -Creek or Cow Creek--maybe furder over--don't know which, somewhere this -side or t'other side of Encampment River. You kin bet big money I kin -help a heap--a mighty lot But say nothin' to nobody--specially to -these soopercilious high-steppin' chaps 'round here--not a dangnation -word--keep it mum. This is a razzle-dazzle just 'tween you an' me, young -man." - -A silence followed, and the two stood there looking at each other. -Presently Roderick said: "I believe I'll go over to the hotel and get -some breakfast; this western air gives one a ravenous appetite." - -Then they both laughed a little as if anxious to relieve an embarrassing -situation, and went out to the street together. Jim knew in his heart -he had been outclassed; he had shown his whole hand, the other not one -single card. - -"All right," Rankin finally said, as if an invitation had been extended -to him. "All right, I'll jist loiter along with yer over to'rd the -hotel." - -"At another time," observed Roderick, "we will talk further about my -father's errand into this western country." - -"That's the dope that sure 'nuff suits me, Mr. War-field," replied -Rankin. "Whatever you say goes. Yer can unbosom yerself to me any time -to the limit. I've got a dozen good mining deals to talk to you about; -they're dandies--a fortune in every one uv 'em--'a bird in every shell,' -I might say," and Rankin laughed heartily at his happy comparison. -"Remember one thing, Warfield,"--he stopped and took hold of the lapel -of Roderick's coat, and again spoke in a whisper--"this yere town is -full uv 'hot air' merchants. Don't have nuthin' to do with 'em--stand -pat with me and I'll see by the great horn spoon the worst you get -will be the best uv everythin' we tackle. Well, so long until after -breakfast; I'll see you later." And with this Rankin turned and -walked briskly back to his stables, whistling a melody from the "Irish -Washerwoman" as he went along. - -Arriving at his stables he lighted a fire in a drumshaped stove, threw -his cud of tobacco away and said: "Hell, I wish this young Warfield had -money. I've got a copper prospect within three mile uv this here town -that'll knock the spots out uv the Ferris-Haggerty mine all holler. -Geewhillikins, it'll jist nachur-ally make all the best mines in Wyomin' -look like small-sized Shetland ponies at a Perch'ron draft horse show. -You bet that's what I've got." - -After feeding his horses he came back to the livery barn office, now -quite warm and comfortable, pulled up an old broken backed chair, sat -down and lit his pipe. After a few puffs he muttered half aloud: "Expect -I'm the only man in Wyomin' who remembers all the early hist'ry and -traditions about that cussed lost mine. I've hunted the hills high and -low, north, south, east and west, and dang my buttons if I can imagine -where them blamed nuggets came from. And my failure used to make me at -times a plenty hostile and peevish. John Warfield brought three of 'em -out with him on his last trip. He gave Tom one, Boney one and me one." - -Thrusting his hand into his pocket Rankin produced a native nugget of -gold, worn smooth and shiny, and looked at it long in silent meditation. -It was a fine specimen of almost pure gold, and was worth perhaps five -and twenty dollars. - -Presently the old frontiersman brought his fist down with a startling -thump on his knee and said aloud: "I'll be blankety-blanked if I don't -believe in that dangnation fairy story yet. You bet I do, and I'll help -John Warfield's boy find it, by the great horn spoon I will, if it takes -every horse in the stable." - -Jim Rankin relit his pipe, smoked vigorously and thought. The power of -silence was strong upon him. The restless spirit of the fortune hunter -was again surging in his blood and awaking slumbering half-forgotten -hopes--yes, tugging at his heart-strings and calling to him to forsake -all else and flee to the hills. - -Rankin was a character, a representative of the advance band of sturdy -trail-blazers of the West--tender-hearted as a child, generous to a -fault, ready to divide his last crust with a friend, yet quick to resent -an injury, and stubborn as a bullock when roused to self-defense. There -was nothing cunning about him, nothing of greed and avarice, no spirit -of envy for the possession of things for the things' sake. But for him -there was real joy in the mad pursuit of things unattainable--a joy that -enthralled and enthused him with the fervor of eternal youth. His was -the simple life of the hills, loving his few chums and turning his back -on all whom he disliked or mistrusted. - -Other men and greater men there may be, but it was men of Jim Rankin's -type that could build, and did build, monuments among the wild western -waste of heat-blistered plains and gaunt rock-ribbed mountains, men who -braved the wilderness and there laid the first foundation stones of -a splendid civilization--splendid, yet even now only in its first -beginnings, a civilization that means happy homes and smiling fields -where before all was barrenness and desolation. - - - - -CHAPTER VII--GETTING ACQUAINTED - - -RODERICK spent a few days in Rawlins, improving his acquaintance with -Jim Rankin and making a general survey of the situation. The ex-sheriff -proved to be a veritable repository of local information, and Roderick -soon knew a little about everyone and everything in the district. He -learned that Tom Sun, one of his father's old associates, had from small -beginnings come to be the largest sheep owner in the state; he was rich -and prosperous. With Boney Earnest, however, the other friend mentioned -in the letter, the case was different. Boney had stuck for years to -prospecting and desultory mining without achieving any substantial -success, but had eventually become a blast furnace man in the big -smelting plant at Encampment. There he had worked his way up to a -foreman's position, and with his practical knowledge of all the ores -in the region was the real brains of the establishment, as Jim Rankin -forcibly declared. He had a large family which absorbed all his earnings -and always kept him on the ragged edge of necessity. - -Rankin himself was not too well fixed--just making a more or less -precarious subsistence out of his stage line and livery stable business. -But he had several big mining deals in hand or at least in prospect, one -or other of which was "dead sure to turn up trumps some day." The "some -day" appeared to be indefinitely postponed, but meanwhile Jim had the -happiness of living in the genial sunshiny atmosphere of hope. And the -coming of Roderick had changed this mellowed sunshine into positive -radiance, rekindling all the old fires of enthusiasm in the heart of the -old-time prospector. With Roderick the first surge of eager impetuosity -had now settled down into quiet determination. But old Jim Rankin's -blood was at fever-heat in his eagerness to find the hidden valley. When -alone with Roderick he could talk of nothing else. - -Roderick, however, had shrewdly and cautiously summed up the measure of -his usefulness. Jim Rankin had not the necessary capital to finance -a systematic search among the mountain fastnesses where nature so -jealously guarded her secret. Nor could he leave his horses and his -livery business for any long period, however glibly he might talk about -"going out and finding the blamed place." As for any precise knowledge -of where the quest should be commenced, he had none. He had shared in -the frequent attempts and failures of Roderick's father, and after a -lapse of some fifteen or sixteen years had even a slimmer chance now -than then of hitting the spot. So, all things duly considered, Roderick -had adhered to his original resolution of playing a lone hand. Not even -to Rankin did he show his father's letter and map; their relations were -simply an understanding that the old frontiersman would help Roderick -out to the best of his power whenever opportunity offered and in all -possible ways, and that for services rendered there would be liberal -recompense should golden dreams come to be realized. - -Another reason weighed with Roderick in holding to a policy of -reticence. Despite Jim's own frequent cautions to "keep mum--say nothing -to nobody," he himself was not the best hand at keeping a secret, -especially after a few cocktails had lubricated his natural loquacity. -At such moments, under the mildly stimulating influence, Jim dearly -loved to hint at mysterious knowledge locked up in his breast. And in -a mining camp vague hints are liable to become finger posts and -signboards--the very rocks and trees seem to be possessed of ears. So -young Warfield was at least erring on the safe side in keeping his own -counsel and giving no unnecessary confidences anywhere. - -There was nothing to be gained by remaining longer at Rawlins. -Roderick's slender finances rendered it imperative that he should find -work of some kind--work that would enable him to save a sufficient stake -for the prospecting venture, or give him the chance to search out the -proper moneyed partner who would be ready to share in the undertaking. -And since he had to work it would be well that his work should, if -possible, be on the range, where while earning his maintenance and -husbanding his resources, he could at the same time be spying out the -land and gaining invaluable experience. So he had on several occasions -discussed with Jim Rankin the chances of finding a temporary job on one -of the big cattle ranches, and after one of these conversations had -come his decision to move at once from Rawlins. His first "voyage of -discovery" would be to Encampment, the busy smelter town. He remembered -the cordial invitation extended to him by Grant Jones, the newspaper -man, and felt sure he would run across him there. From the first he -had felt strongly drawn to this buoyant young spirit of the West, and -mingled with his desire for such comradeship was just a little -longing, maybe, to glimpse again the fair smiling faces of the twin -sisters--"mountain wild flowers" as Grant Jones had so happily described -Barbara and Dorothy Shields. - -So one fine morning Roderick found himself seated beside Jim Rankin on -the driver's seat of an old-fashioned Concord stage coach. With a crack -of Jim's whip, the six frisky horses, as was their wont at the beginning -of a journey, started off at a gallop down the street. Five or six -passengers were stowed away in the coach. But these were nothing to Jim -Rankin and Roderick Warfield. They could converse on their own affairs -during the long day's drive. The old frontiersman was, as usual, in -talkative mood. - -"By gunnies," he exclaimed sotto-voce, as they wheeled along, "we'll -find that pesky lost gold mine, don't you forget it. I know pretty -dangnation near its location now. You bet I do and I'll unbosom myself -and take you to it--jist you and me. I'm thinkin' a heap these yere -days, you bet I am." - -Along in the afternoon they crossed over Jack Creek, an important stream -of water flowing from the west into the North Platte River. Jim Rankin -stopped the stage coach and pointed out to our hero the "deadline" -between the cattle and sheep range. "All this yere territory," said -Jim, "lying north uv Jack Creek is nachure's sheep pasture and all lyin' -south uv Jack is cattle range." - -"It's well known," he went on, "where them blamed pesky sheep feed and -graze, by gunnies, vegetation don't grow agin successful for several -years. The sheep not only nachurlly eat the grass down to its roots, -but their sharp hoofs cut the earth into fine pulp fields uv dust. Jack -Creek is the dividin' line--the 'dead line.'" - -"What do you mean by the 'dead line'?" asked Roderick. - -"The 'dead line,'" replied old Jim as he clucked to his horses and swung -his long whip at the off-leader--"the 'dead line' is where by the great -horn spoon the sheep can't go any furder south and the cattle darsn't -come any furder north, or when they do, Hell's a-pop-pin.'" - -"What happens?" - -"What happens?" repeated the frontiersman as he expectorated a huge -pit-tew of tobacco juice at a cactus that stood near the roadway. "Why, -by gunnies, hundreds uv ondefensible sheep have been actooally clubbed -to death in a single night by raidin' cowboys and the sheep-herders shot -to death while sleepin' in their camp wagons: and their cookin' outfit, -which is usually in one end uv the wagon, as well as the camp wagons, -burned to conceal evidence of these dastardly murders. Oh, they sure do -make things gay and genial like." - -"Astonishing! The cowboys must be a pretty wicked lot," interrogated -Roderick. - -"Well, it's about six uv one and half a dozen uv the other. You see -these pesky sheep herders and the cowboys are all torn off the same -piece uv cloth. Many a range rider has been picked from his hoss by -these sheep men hidden away in these here rocky cliffs which overlook -the valley. They sure 'nuff get tumultuous." - -"But what about the law?" inquired Roderick. "Does it afford no -protection?" - -Jim laughed derisively, pushed his hat far back and replied: "Everybody -that does any killin' in these here parts sure does it in self-defense." -He chuckled at his superior knowledge of the West. "Leastways, that's -what the evidence brings out afore the courts. However, Tom Sun says -the fussin' is about over with. Last year more'n twenty cattle men were -sentenced to the pen'tentiary up in the Big Horn country. Sort uv an -offset fur about a score uv sheep men that's been killed by the cow -punchers while tendin' their flocks on the range. You bet they've been -mixin' things up with artil'ry a heap." - -"I clearly perceive," said Roderick, "that your sympathies are with the -cattle men." - -Jim Rankin turned quickly and with his piercing black eyes glared at -Roderick as if he would rebuke him for his presumption. - -"Young man, don't be assoomin'. I ain't got no sympathy fur neither one -uv 'em. I don't believe in murder and I don't believe very much in the -pen'tentiary. 'Course when I was sheriff, I had to do some shootin' -but my shootin' wuz all within the law. No, I don't care a cuss one way -or 'tother. There are lots uv good fellers ridin' range. Expect yer will -be ridin' before long. Think I can help yer get a job on the Shields -ranch; if I can't Grant Jones can. And ther's lots uv mighty good -sheep-herders too. My old pal, Tom Sun, is the biggest sheep-man in this -whole dang-nation country and he's square, he is. So you see I ain't got -no preference, 'tho' I do say the hull kit and bilin' uv 'em could be -improved. Yes, I'm nootral. Put that in yer pipe and smoke it, fur it -goes dangnation long ways in this man's country to be nootral, and -don't git to furgit'n it." - -It was late in the afternoon when they neared the little town of -Encampment. Old Jim Rankin began to cluck to his horses and swing his -whip gently and finally more pronouncedly. - -If it is the invariable habit of stage drivers at the point of departure -to start off their horses in a full swinging gallop, it is an equally -inviolable rule, when they approach the point of arrival, that they -come in with a whoop and a hooray. These laws are just as immutable -as ringing the bell or blowing the locomotive whistle when leaving or -nearing a station. So when Jim Rankin cracked his whip, all six horses -leaned forward in their collars, wheeled up the main street in a -swinging gallop, and stopped abruptly in front of the little hotel. - -As Roderick climbed down from the driver's seat he was greeted with -a hearty "Hello, Warfield, welcome to our city." The speaker was none -other than Grant Jones himself, for his newspaper instincts always -brought him, when in town, to meet the stage. - -The two young men shook hands with all the cordiality of old friends. - -"If you cannot get a room here at the hotel, you can bunk with me," -continued Grant. "I have a little shack down towards the smelter." - -Roderick laughed and said: "Suppose, then, we don't look for a room. -I'll be mighty pleased to carry my baggage to your shack now." - -"All right, that's a go," said Grant; and together they started down the -street. - -Grant Jones' bachelor home consisted of a single room--a hastily -improvised shack, as he had correctly called it, that had cost no very -large sum to build. It was decorated with many trophies of college -life and of the chase. Various college pennants were on the walls, -innumerable pipes, some rusty antiquated firearms, besides a brace -of pistols which Jim Rankin had given to Grant, supposed to be the -identical flint-locks carried by Big Nose George, a desperado of the -early days. - -"You see," explained Grant as he welcomed his guest, "this is my -Encampment residence. I have another shack over at Dillon where I edit -my paper, the _Dillon Doublejack_. I spend part of my time in one -place and part in the other. My business is in Dillon but social -attractions--Dorothy Shields, you may have already guessed--are over -this way." And he blushed red as he laughingly made the confession. - -"And talking of the Shields, by the way," resumed Grant. "I want to tell -you I took the liberty of mentioning your name to the old man. He is -badly in need of some more hands on the ranch--young fellows who can -ride and are reliable." - -Roderick was all alert. - -"The very thing I'm looking for," he said eagerly. "Would he give me a -place, do you think?" - -"I'm certain of it. In fact I promised to bring you over to the ranch as -soon as you turned up at Encampment." - -"Mighty kind of you, old fellow," remarked Roderick, gratefully and with -growing familiarity. - -"Well, you can take that bed over there," said the host. "This one is -mine. You'll excuse the humble stretchers, I know. Then after you -have opened your grip and made yourself a little at home, we'll take a -stroll. I fancy that a good big porterhouse won't come amiss after your -long day's drive. We've got some pretty good restaurants in the town. I -suppose you've already discovered that a properly cooked juicy Wyoming -steak is hard to beat, eh, you pampered New Yorker?" - -Roderick laughed as he threw open his valise and arranged his brushes -and other toilet appurtenances on the small table that stood at the head -of the narrow iron stretcher. - -A little later, when night had fallen, the young men went out into the -main street to dine and look over the town. It was right at the edge of -the valley with mountains rising in a semi-circle to south and west, a -typical mountain settlement. - -"You see everything is wide open," said Grant, as he escorted Roderick -along the streets, arm linked in arm. For they had just discovered that -they belonged to the same college fraternity--Kappa Gamma Delta, so the -bonds of friendship had been drawn tighter still. - -"You have a great town here," observed Roderick. - -"We have about 1200 to 1500 people and 18 saloons!" laughed the other. -"And every saloon has a gambling lay-out--anything from roulette to -stud-poker. Over yonder is Brig Young's place. Here is Southpaw's -Bazaar. The Red Dog is a little farther along; the Golden Eagle is one -of the largest gambling houses in the town. We'll have our supper first, -and then I'll take you over to Brig Young's and introduce you." - -As they turned across the street they met a man coming toward them. He -was straight and tall, rather handsome, but a gray mustache made him -seem older than his years. - -"Hello, here is Mr. Grady. Mr. Grady, I want to introduce you to a -newcomer. This is Mr. Roderick Warfield." - -"Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield," said Grady in a smooth voice and -with an oleaginous smile. To Roderick the face seemed a sinister one; -instinctively he felt a dislike for the man. - -"Your town is quite up-to-date, with all its brilliant electric lights," -he observed with a polite effort at conversation. - -"Yes," replied Grady, "but it is the monthly pay roll of my big smelting -company that supports the whole place." - -There was a pomposity in the remark and the look that accompanied it -which added to Roderick's feelings of repulsion. - -"Oh, I don't know," interposed Grant Jones, in a laughing way. "We -have about five hundred prospectors up in the hills who may not yet -be producers, but their monthly expenditures run up into pretty big -figures." - -"Of course, that amounts to something; but think of my pay roll," -replied Grady, boastingly. "Almost a thousand men on my pay roll. -We have the biggest copper mine in the Rocky Mountain region, Mr. -War-field. Come down some day and see the smelter," he added as he -extended his hand in farewell greeting, with a leer rather than a smile -on his face. "I'll give you a pass." - -"Thank you," said Roderick coldly. And the two friends resumed their -walk toward Brig Young's saloon. - -"I don't mind telling you," remarked Grant, "that Grady is the most -pompous, arrogant and all-round hated man in this mining camp." - -"He looks the part," replied Roderick, and they both laughed. - -A minute later they were seated in a cosy little restaurant. Ample -justice was done to the succulent Wyoming porterhouse, and cigars were -lighted over the cups of fragrant coffee that completed the meal. Then -the young men resumed their peregrinations pursuant to the programme of -visiting Brig Young's place, certified by Grant Jones to be one of the -sights of the town. - -The saloon proved to be an immense room with a bar in the corner near -the entrance. Roulette tables, faro lay-outs and a dozen poker tables -surrounded with feverish players were all running full blast, while -half a hundred men were standing around waiting to take the place of any -player who went broke or for any reason dropped out of the game. - -"I guess nearly all the gambling is done here, isn't it?" asked -Roderick. - -"Not by a big sight. There are eighteen joints of this kind, and they -are all running wide open and doing business all the time." - -"When do they close?" inquired Roderick. - -"They never close," replied Grant. "Brig Young boasts that he threw -the key away when this place opened, and the door has never been locked -since." - -As they spoke their attention was attracted to one corner of the gaming -room. Seven players were grouped around a table, in the centre of which -was stacked a pile of several thousand dollars in gold pieces. Grant and -Roderick strolled over. - -A score of miners and cowboys were standing around watching the game. -One of them said to Grant Jones: "It's a jack pot and they're dealing -for openers." - -Finally someone opened the pot for $500. "It's an all-fired juicy -pot and I wouldn't think of openin' it for less." Tom Lester was the -player's name, as Grant whispered to Roderick. - -"I'll stay," said One-Eyed Joe. - -"So will I," said another. - -The players were quickly assisted with cards--four refused to come in, -and the other three, having thrown their discards into the deck, sat -facing each other ready for the final struggle in determining -the ownership of the big pot before them. It was a neck and neck -proposition. First one would see and raise and then another would see -and go better. Finally, the showdown came, and it created consternation -when it was discovered that there were five aces in sight. - -Instantly Tom Lester jerked his Colt's revolver from his belt and laid -it carefully down on top of his three aces and said: "Steady, boys, -don't move a muscle or a hand until I talk." The onlookers pushed back -and quickly enlarged the circle. - -"Sit perfectly still, gentlemen," said Tom Lester, quietly and in a low -tone of voice, with his cocked revolver in front of him. "I'm not makin' -any accusations or loud talk--I'm not accusin' anybody in particular of -anything. Keep perfectly cool an' hear a cool determined man talk. Far -be it from me to accuse anyone of crooked dealin' or holdin' high cards -up their sleeves." - -As he spoke he looked at One-Eyed Joe who had both a reputation at card -skin games and a record of several notches on his gun handle. - -"I want to say," Lester continued, "that I recognize in the game we're -playin' every man is a perfect gentleman and it's not Tom Lester who -suspicions any impure motives or crooked work. - -"We will now order a new deck of cards," said Tom while fire was -flashing out of his steel gray eyes. "We will play this game to a -finish, by God, and the honest winner will take the stakes. But I will -say here and now so there may be no misunderstandin' and without further -notice, that if a fifth ace shows up again around this table, I'll shoot -his other eye out." And he looked straight at One-Eyed Joe, who never -quivered or moved a muscle. - -"This ends my remarks concernin' the rules. How d'ye like 'em, Joe?" - -"Me?" said Joe, looking up in a surprised way with his one eye. "I'm -'lowin' you have made yer position plain--so dangnation plain that even -a blind man kin see the pint." - -The new deck was brought and the game went on in silence. After a few -deals the pot was again opened, and was in due course won by a player -who had taken no part in the previous mix-up, without a word falling -from the lips of either Tom Lester or One-Eyed Joe. - -Roderick and Grant moved away. - -"Great guns," exclaimed the former. "But that's a rare glimpse of -western life." - -"Oh, there are incidents like that every night," replied Grant, "and -shooting too at times. Have a drink?" he added as they approached the -bar. - -"Yes, I will have a great big lemonade." - -"Well," laughed Grant, "I'll surprise both you and my stomach by taking -the same." - -As they sipped their drinks, Grant's face became a little serious as -he said: "I'm mighty glad you have come. You seem to be of my own kind. -Lots of good boys out here, but they are a little rough and many of them -are rather careless. Guess I am getting a little careless myself. There -are just two men in these mountains who have a good influence over the -boys. One is Major Buell Hampton. Everybody trusts him. By the way, I -must introduce you to him. He is one of the grandest men I have ever -met" As Grant said this he brought his fist down decisively on the bar. - -"The other is the Reverend Stephen Grannon," he went on, "the travelling -horseback preacher--carries saddle bags, and all that. Why, do you know, -the boys are so respectful to Reverend Grannon that they hire a man to -go up and down the street ringing a bell, and they close up all their -places for an hour every time he comes to town. He preaches mostly in -the big tent you perhaps saw further up the street, at other times -in the little church. The boys are mighty respectful to him, and -all because they know he goes about doing good. If anyone falls ill, -Reverend Grannon is the first to offer help. He visits the poor and -cheers them with a spirit of hope. He never leaves town without going -into every saloon and shaking hands with the barkeepers, giving them -the same kind of advice but not in the same way--the same advice that we -used to get when we stood around our mother's knee before we had learned -the sorrows of the big world." - -For a moment Grant was serious. Then looking up at Roderick, he laughed -and said: "We all have to think of those old days once in a while, don't -we?" - -Roderick nodded gravely. - -"Now I come to think of it," said Grant, "the present moment's a very -good time. We'll go down and call on one of Nature's noblemen. He is -somewhat of an enigma. You cannot tell how old he is by looking at -him. He may have seen fifty years or a hundred and fifty--the Lord -only knows, for nobody in this camp has any idea. But you will meet -a magnificent character. Come along. I'm going to present you to my -friend, Major Buell Hampton, about whom I've just been speaking. I guess -we'll catch him at home." - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.--A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS - - -AS THE two young men walked down the brilliantly lighted main street of -Encampment, Grant Jones explained that the water had been dammed several -miles up the south fork of the Encampment river and conducted in a -California red-wood pipe down to the smelter plant for power purposes; -and that the town of Encampment was lighted at a less cost per capita -than any other town in the world. It simply cost nothing, so to speak. - -Grant had pointed out several residences of local celebrities, but at -last a familiar name drew Roderick's special attention--the name of one -of his father's old friends. - -"This is Boney Earnest's home," Grant was remarking. "He is the fellow -who stands in front of the furnaces at the smelter in a sleeveless -shirt and with a red bandana around his neck. They have a family of ten -children, every one of them as bright as a new silver dollar. Oh, we -have lots of children here and by the way a good public school. You see -that log house just beyond? That is where Boney Earnest used to live -when he first came into camp--before his brood was quite so numerous. It -now belongs to Major Buell Hampton. It is not much to look at, but just -wait until you get inside." - -"Then this Major Hampton, I presume, has furnished it up in great -shape?" - -"No, nothing but rough benches, a table, some chairs and a few shelves -full of books. What I mean is that Major Hampton's personality is there -and that beats all the rich furniture and all the bric--brac on earth. -As a college man you will appreciate him." - -Without ceremony Grant rapped vigorously at the door and received a loud -response to "come in." At the far end of a room that was perhaps 40 feet -long by 20 feet in width was an open fireplace in which huge logs of -wood were burning. Here Major Hampton was standing with his back to the -fire and his hands crossed behind him. - -As his visitors entered, the Major said in courtly welcome: "Mr. Grant -Jones, I am glad to see you." And he advanced with hand extended. - -"Major, let me introduce you to a newcomer, Roderick Warfield. We belong -to the same 'frat.'" - -"Mr. Warfield," responded the Major, shaking the visitor's hand, "I -welcome you not only to the camp but to my humble dwelling." - -He led them forward and provided chairs in front of the open fire. On -the center table was a humidor filled with tobacco and beside it lay -several pipes. - -"Mr. Warfield," observed the Major, speaking with a marked southern -accent, "I am indeed pleased, suh, to meet anyone who is a friend of Mr. -Jones. I have found him a most delightful companion and I hope you will -make free to call on me often. Interested in mining, I presume?" - -"Well," replied Roderick, "interested, yes, in a way. But tentative -arrangements have been made for me to join the cowboy brigade. I am to -ride the range if Mr. Shields is pleased with me, as our friend here -seems to think he will be. He is looking for some more cowboys and my -name has been mentioned to him." - -"Yes," concurred Grant, "Mr. Shields needs some more cowboys very badly, -and as Warfield is accustomed to riding, I'm quite sure he'll fill the -bill." - -"Personally," observed the Major, "I am very much interested in mining. -It has a great charm for me. The taking out of wealth from the bosom of -the earth--wealth that has never been tainted by commercialism--appeals -to me very much." - -"Then I presume you are doing some mining yourself." - -"No," replied the Major. "If I had capital, doubtless I would be in the -mining business. But my profession, if I may term it so, is that of a -hunter. These hills and mountains are pretty full of game, and I manage -to find two or three deer a week. My friend and next door neighbor, Mr. -Boney Earnest, and his family consisting of a wife and ten -children, have been very considerate of me and I have undertaken the -responsibility of furnishing the meat for their table. Are you fond of -venison, Mr. Warfield?" - -"I must confess," said Roderick, "I have never tasted venison." - -"Finest meat in the world," responded the Major. "Of course," he -went on, "I aim to sell about one deer a week, which brings me a fair -compensation. It enables me to buy tobacco and ammunition," and he -laughed good naturedly at his limited wants. - -"One would suppose," interjected Grant Jones, "that the Boney Earnest -family must be provided with phenomenal appetites if they eat the meat -of two deer each week. But if you knew the Major's practice of supplying -not less than a dozen poor families with venison because they are needy, -you would understand why he does not have a greater income from the sale -of these antlered trophies of the hills." - -The Major waved the compliment aside and lit his pipe. As he threw his -head well back after the pipe was going, Roderick was impressed that -Major Buell Hampton most certainly was an exceptional specimen of -manhood. He was over six feet tall, splendidly proportioned, and perhaps -weighed considerably more than two hundred pounds. - -There were little things here and there that gave an insight into the -character of the man. Hanging on the wall was a broad-brimmed slouch hat -of the southern planter style. Around his neck the Major wore a heavy -gold watch guard with many a link. To those who knew him best, as -Roderick came subsequently to learn, this chain was symbolical of his -endless kindnesses to the poor--notwithstanding his own poverty, of such -as he had he freely gave; like the chain his charities seemed linked -together without a beginning--without an end. His well-brushed shoes -and puttees, his neatly arranged Windsor tie, denoted the old school of -refinement and good breeding. - -His long dark hair and flowing mustaches were well streaked with gray. -His forehead was knotted, his nose was large but well formed, while -the tangled lines of his face were deep cut and noticeable. From under -heavily thatched eyebrows the eyes beamed forth the rare tenderness and -gentle consideration for others which his conversation suggested. -Long before the evening's visit was over, a conviction was fixed in -Roderick's heart that here indeed was a king among men--one on whom God -had set His seal of greatness. - -In later days, when both had become well acquainted, Roderick sometimes -discovered moments when this strange man was in deep meditation--when -his eyes seemed resting far away on some mysterious past or inscrutable -future. And Roderick would wonder whether it was a dark cloud of memory -or anxiety for what was to come that obscured and momentarily dimmed -the radiance of this great soul. It was in such moments that Major Buell -Hampton became patriarchal in appearance; and an observer might well -have exclaimed: "Here is one over whom a hundred winters or even -countless centuries have blown their fiercest chilling winds." But when -Buell Hampton had turned again to things of the present, his face was -lit up with his usual inspiring smile of preparedness to consider the -simplest questions of the poorest among the poor of his acquaintances--a -transfiguration indescribable, as if the magic work of some ancient -alchemist had pushed the years away, transforming the centenarian into -a comparatively young man who had seen, perhaps, not more than half a -century. He was, indeed, changeable as a chameleon. But in all phases he -looked, in the broadest sense of the word, the humanitarian. - -As the three men sat that night around the fire and gazed into the -leaping flames and glowing embers, there had been a momentary lull in -the conversation, broken at last by the Major. - -"I hope we shall become great friends, Mr. War-field," he said. "But to -be friends we must be acquainted, and in order to be really acquainted -with a man I must know his views on politics, religion, social -questions, and the economic problems of the age in which we live." - -He waved his hand at the bookshelves well filled with volumes whose worn -bindings showed that they were there for reading and not for show. -Long rows of periodicals, even stacks of newspapers, indicated close -attention to the current questions of the day. - -"Rather a large order," replied Roderick, smiling. "It would take a long -time to test out a man in such a thorough way." - -The Major paid no heed to the comment. Still fixedly regarding the -bookshelves, he continued: "You see my library, while not extensive, -represents my possessions. Each day is a link in life's chain, and I -endeavor to keep pace with the latest thought and the latest steps in -the world's progress." - -Then he turned round suddenly and asked the direct question: "By the -way, Mr. Warfield, are you a married man?" - -Roderick blushed the blush of a young bachelor and confessed that he was -not. - -"Whom God hath joined let no man put asunder," laughed Grant Jones. "The -good Lord has not joined me to anyone yet, but I am hoping He will." - -"Grant, you are a boy," laughed the Major. "You always will be a boy. -You are quick to discover the ridiculous; and yet," went on the Major -reflectively, "I have seen my friend Jones in serious mood at times. But -I like him whether he is frivolous or serious. When you boys speak -of marriage as something that is arranged by a Divine power, you are -certainly laboring under one of the many delusions of this world." - -Roderick remembered his compact with Stella Rain, the pretty little -college widow. For a moment his mind was back at the campus grounds in -old Galesburg. Presently he said: "I beg your pardon, Major, but would -you mind giving me your ideas of an ideal marriage?" - -"An ideal marriage," repeated the Major, smiling, as he knocked the -ashes from his meerschaum. "Well, an ideal marriage is a something the -young girl dreams about, a something the engaged girl believes she has -found, and a something the married woman knows never existed." - -He looked deep into the open grate as if re-reading a half forgotten -chapter in his own life. Presently refilling and lighting his pipe he -turned to Roderick and said: "When people enter into marriage--a purely -civil institution--a man agrees to bring in the raw products--the meat, -the flour, the corn, the fuel; and the woman agrees to manufacture the -goods into usable condition. The husband agrees to provide a home--the -wife agrees to take care of it and keep it habitable. In one respect -marriage is slavery," continued the Major, "slavery in the sense that -each mutually sentences himself or herself to a life of servitude, each -serving the other in, faithfully carrying out, when health permits, -their contract or agreement of partnership. Therefore marriages are made -on earth--not in heaven. There is nothing divine about them. They are, -as I have said, purely a civil institution." - -The speaker paused. His listeners, deeply interested, were reluctant by -any interruption to break the flow of thought. They waited patiently, -and presently the Major resumed: "Since the laws of all civilized -nations recognize the validity of a partnership contract, they should -also furnish an honorable method of nullifying and cancelling it when -either party willfully breaks the marriage agreement of partnership by -act of omission or commission. Individuals belonging to those isolated -cases 'Whom God hath joined'--if perchance there are any--of course have -no objections to complying with the formalities of the institutions of -marriage; they are really mated and so the divorce court has no terrors -for them. It is only from among the great rank and file of the other -class whom 'God hath _not_ joined' that the unhappy victims are found -hovering around the divorce courts, claiming that the partnership -contract has been violated and broken and the erring one has proven a -false and faithless partner. - -"In most instances, I believe, and it is the saddest part of it all, -the complainant is usually justified. And it is certainly a most wise, -necessary, and humane law that enables an injured wife or husband to -terminate a distasteful or repulsive union. Only in this way can the -standard of humanity be raised by peopling the earth with natural -love-begotten children, free from the effects of unfavorable pre-natal -influences which not infrequently warp and twist the unborn into -embryonic imbeciles or moral perverts with degenerate tendencies. - -"Society as well as posterity is indebted fully as much to the civil -institution of divorce as it is to the civil institution of marriage. -Oh, yes, I well know, pious-faced church folks walk about throughout -the land with dubs to bludgeon those of my belief without going to the -trouble of submitting these vital questions to an unprejudiced court of -inquiry." - -The Major smiled, and said: "I see you young men are interested in my -diatribe, or my sermon--call it which you will--so I'll go on. Well, the -churches that are nearest to the crudeness of antiquity, superstition, -and ignorance are the ones most unyielding and denunciatory to the -institution of divorce. The more progressive the church or the community -and the more enlightened the human race becomes, the less objectionable -and the more desirable is an adequate system of divorce laws--laws that -enable an injured wife or husband to refuse to stultify their conscience -and every instinct of decency by bringing children into the world -that are not welcome. A womanly woman covets motherhood--desires -children--love offerings with which to people the earth--babes that are -not handicapped with parental hatreds, regrets, or disgust. Marriage -is not a flippant holiday affair but a most serious one, freighted -not alone with grave responsibilities to the mutual happiness of both -parties to the civil contract, but doubly so to the offspring resultant -from the union. But I guess that is about enough of my philosophy for -one evening, isn't it?" he concluded, with a little laugh that was not -devoid of bitterness--it might have been the bitterness of personal -reminiscence, or bitterness toward a blind and misguided world in -general, or perhaps both combined. - -Grant Jones turning to Roderick said: "Well, what do you think of the -Major's theory?" - -"I fear," said Roderick in a serious tone, "that it is not a theory but -an actual condition." - -"Bravo," said the Major as he arose from his chair and advanced to -Roderick, extending his hand. "All truth," said he, "in time will be -uncovered, truth that today is hidden beneath the dbris of formalities, -ignorance, and superstition." - -"But why, Major," asked Grant, "are there so many divorces? Do not -contracting parties know their own minds? Now it seems impossible to -conceive of my ever wanting a divorce from a certain little lady I -know," he added with a pleasant laugh--the care-free, confiding laugh of -a boy. - -"My dear Jones," said the Major, "the supposed reasons for divorce are -legion--the actual reasons are perhaps few. However it is not for me to -say that all the alleged reasons are not potent and sufficient. When we -hear two people maligning each other in or out of the court we are -prone to believe both are telling the truth. Truth is the underlying -foundation of respect, respect begets friendship, and friendship -sometimes is followed by the more tender passion we call love. A man -meets a woman," the Major went on, thoughtfully, "whom he knows is not -what the world calls virtuous. He may fall in love with her and may -marry her and be happy with her. But if a man loves a woman he believes -to be virtuous and then finds she is not--it is secretly regarded by -him as the unforgivable sin and is doubtless the unspoken and unwritten -allegation in many a divorce paper." - -He mused for a moment, then went on: "Sometime there will be a single -standard of morals for the sexes, but as yet we are not far enough away -from the brutality of our ancestors. Yes, it is infinitely better," -he added, rising from his chair, "that a home should be broken into -a thousand fragments through the kindly assistance of a divorce court -rather than it should only exist as a family battle ground." The tone of -his voice showed that the talk was at an end, and he bade his visitors a -courteous good-night, with the cordial addition: "Come again." - -"It was great," remarked Roderick, as the young men wended their -homeward way. "What a wealth of new thought a fellow can bring away from -such a conversation!" - -"Just as I told you," replied Grant "But the Major opens his inmost -heart like that only to his chosen friends." - -"Then I'm mighty glad to be enrolled among the number," said Roderick. -"Makes a chap feel rather shy of matrimony though, doesn't it?" - -"Not on your life. True love can never change--can never wrong itself. -When you feel that way toward a girl, Warfield, and know that the girl -is of the same mind, go and get the license--no possible mistake can be -made." - -Grant Jones was thinking of Dorothy Shields, and his face was aglow. -To Roderick had come thought of Stella Rain, and he felt depressed. Was -there no mistake in his love affair?--this was the uneasy question that -was beginning to call for an answer. And yet he had never met a girl -whom he would prefer to the dainty, sweet, unselfish, brave little -"college widow" of Galesburg. - - - - -CHAPTER IX--THE HIDDEN VALLEY - - -WITHIN a few days of Roderick's advent into the camp he was duly added -to the cowboy list on the ranch of the wealthy cattleman, Mr. Shields, -whose property was located a few miles east from the little mining town -and near the banks of the Platte River. A commodious and handsome home -stood apart from the cattle corral and bunk house lodgings for the -cowboy helpers. There were perhaps twenty cowboys in Mr. Shields' -employment. His vast herds of cattle ranged in the adjoining hills and -mountain canyons that rimmed the eastern edge of the valley. - -Grant Jones had proved his friendship in the strongest sort of an -introduction, and was really responsible for Roderick securing a job -so quickly. But it was not many days before Roderick discovered that -Doro-try Shields was perhaps the principal reason why Grant rode over to -the ranch so often, ostensibly to visit him. - -During the first month Roderick did not leave the ranch but daily -familiarized himself with horse and saddle. He had always been a good -rider, but here he learned the difference between a trained steed and an -unbroken mustang. Many were his falls and many his bruises, but finally -he came to be quite at home on the back of the fiercest bucking broncho. - -One Saturday evening he concluded to look up Grant Jones and perhaps -have another evening with Major Buell Hampton. So he saddled a pony and -started. But at the edge of town he met his friend riding toward the -country. They drew rein, and Grant announced, as Roderick had already -divined, that he was just starting for the Shields home. They finally -agreed to call on Major Buell Hampton for half an hour and then ride out -to the ranch together. - -As they approached Major Hampton's place they found him mounting his -horse, having made ready for the hills. - -"How is this, Major?" asked Grant Jones. "Is it not rather late in the -afternoon for you to be starting away with your trusty rifle?" - -"Well," replied the Major, after saluting his callers most cordially, -"yes, it is late. But I know where there is a deer lick, and as I am -liable to lose my reputation as a hunter if I do not bring in a couple -more venisons before long, why I propose to be on the ground with the -first streak of daylight tomorrow morning." - -He glanced at the afternoon sun and said: "I think I can reach the deer -lick soon after sun-down. I shall remain over night and be ready for the -deer when they first begin stirring. They usually frequent the lick I -intend visiting." - -The Major seemed impatient to be gone and soon his horse was cantering -along carrying him into the hills, while Roderick and Grant were riding -leisurely through the lowlands of the valley road toward the Shields -ranch. - -All through the afternoon Buell Hampton skirted numerous rocky banks -and crags and climbed far up into the mountain country, then down -abrupt hill-sides only to mount again to still higher elevations. He was -following a dim trail with which he showed himself familiar and that led -several miles away to Spirit River Falls. - -Near these falls was the deer lick. For three consecutive trips the -hunter had been unsuccessful. He had witnessed fully a dozen deer -disappear along the trail that led down to the river's bank, but none -of them had returned. It was a mystery. He did not understand where the -deer could have gone. There was no ford or riffle in the river and the -waters were too deep to admit belief of the deer finding a crossing. He -wondered what was the solution. - -This was the real reason why he had left home late that afternoon, -determined, when night came on, to tether his horse in the woods far -away from the deer lick, make camp and be ready the following morning -for the first appearance of some fine buck as he came to slake -his thirst. If he did not get that buck he would at least find the -trail--indeed on the present occasion it was less the venison he was -after than the solving of the mystery. - -Arriving at his destination, the improvised camp was leisurely made and -his horse given a generous feed of oats. After this he lighted a fire, -and soon a steaming cup of coffee helped him to relish the bread and -cold meat with which he had come provided. - -After smoking several pipes of tobacco and building a big log fire for -the night--for the season was far advanced and there was plenty of snow -around--Buell Hampton lay down in his blankets and was soon fast -asleep, indifferent to the blinking stars or to the rhythmic stirring of -clashing leafless limbs fanned into motion by the night winds. - -With the first breaking of dawn the Major was stirring. After refreshing -himself with hot coffee and glancing at the cartridges in his rifle, he -stole silently along under the overhanging foliage toward the deer lick. - -The watcher had hardly taken a position near an old fallen tree when -five deer came timidly along the trail, sniffing the air in a half -suspicious fashion. - -Lifting his rifle to his shoulder the hunter took deliberate aim and -fired. A young buck leaped high in the air, wheeled about from the trail -and plunged madly toward his enemy. But it was the stimulated madness of -death. The noble animal fell to its knees--then partially raised -itself with one last mighty effort only to fall back again full length, -vanquished in the uneven battle with man. The Major's hunting knife -quickly severed the jugular vein and the animal was thoroughly bled. -A little later this first trophy of the chase had been dressed and -gambreled with the dexterity of a stock yard butcher and hung high on -the limb of a near by tree. - -The four remaining deer, when the Major fired, had rushed frantically -down the trail bordered with dense underbrush and young trees that led -over the brow of the embankment and on down to the river. The hunter now -started in pursuit, following the trail to the water's edge. But there -were no deer to be seen. - -Looking closely he noted that the tracks turned directly to the left -toward the waterfall. - -The bank was very abrupt, but by hugging it closely and stepping -sometimes on stones in the water, while pushing the overhanging and -tangled brushwood aside, he succeeded in making some headway. To his -surprise the narrow trail gave evidence of much use, as the tracks were -indeed numerous. But where, he asked himself, could it possibly lead? -However, he was determined to persevere and solve the mystery of where -the deer had gone and thus escaped him on the previous occasions. - -Presently he had traversed the short distance to the great cataract -tumbling over the shelf of rock almost two hundred feet above. Here he -found himself under the drooping limbs of a mammoth tree that grew so -close to the waterfall that the splashing spray enveloped him like a -cold shower. Following on, to his astonishment he reached a point behind -the waterfall where he discovered a large cavern with lofty arched roof, -like an immense hall in some ancient ruined castle. - -While the light was imperfect yet the morning sun, which at that hour -shone directly on the cascade, illuminated up the cavern sufficiently -for the Major to see into it for quite a little distance. It seemed to -recede directly into the mountain. The explorer cautiously advanced, and -soon was interested at another discovery. A stream fully fifteen feet -wide and perhaps two feet deep flowed directly out of the heart of the -mountain along the center of the grotto, to mingle its waters with those -of Spirit River at the falls. - -Major Hampton paused to consider this remarkable discovery. He now -remembered that the volume of Spirit River had always impressed him as -being larger below the noted Spirit River Falls than above, and here -was the solution. The falls marked the junction of two bodies of water. -Where this hidden river came from he had no idea. Apparently its source -was some great spring situated far back in the mountain's interior. - -The Major was tensioned to a high key, and determined to investigate -further. Making his way slowly and carefully along the low stone shelf -above the river, he found that the light did not penetrate more -than about three hundred feet. Looking closely he found there was an -abundance of deer sign, which greatly mystified him. - -Retracing his steps to the waterfall, the Major once more crept along -the path next to the abrupt river bank, and, climbing up the embankment, -regained the deer trail where he had shot the young buck. He seated -himself on an old fallen tree. Here on former occasions Major Hampton -had waited many an hour for the coming of deer and indulged in -day-dreaming how to relieve the ills of humanity, how to lighten the -burdens of the poor and oppressed. Now, however, he was roused to -action, and was no longer wrapped in the power of silence and the -contemplation of abstract subjects. His brain and his heart were -throbbing with the excitement of adventure and discovery. - -After full an hour's thought his decision was reached and a course of -action planned. First of all he proceeded to gather a supply of dry -brush and branches, tying them into three torch-like bundles with stout -cord, a supply of which he invariably carried in his pockets. Then he -inspected his match box to make sure the matches were in good condition. -Finally picking up his gun, pulling his hunting belt a little tighter, -examining his hatchet and knife to see if they were safe in his belt -scabbard, he again set forth along the deer trail, down to the river. -Overcoming the same obstacles as before, he soon found himself in the -grotto behind the waterfall. - -Lighting one of his torches the Major started on a tour of further -discovery. His course again led him over the comparatively smooth ledge -of rock that served as a low bank for the waters of the hidden stream. -But now he was able to advance beyond the point previously gained. After -a while his torch burned low and he lighted another. The subterranean -passage he was traversing narrowed at times until there was scarcely -more than room to walk along the brink of the noisy waters, and again it -would widen out like some great colosseum. The walls and high ceilings -were fantastically enchanting, while the light from his torch made -strange shadows, played many tricks on his nerves, and startled him with -optical illusions. Figures of stalactites and rows of basaltic columns -reflected the flare of the brand held aloft, and sometimes the explorer -fancied himself in a vault hung with tapestries of brilliant sparkling -crystals. - -Finally the third and last torch was almost burned down to the hand hold -and the Major began to awaken to a keen sense of his difficult position, -and its possible dangers. When attempting to change the stub of burning -brushwood from one hand to the other and at the same time not drop his -rifle, the remnants of the torch fell from his grasp into the rapid -flowing waters and he was left in utter darkness. Apprehension came upon -him--an eerie feeling of helplessness. True, there was a box of matches -in the pocket of his hunting coat, but these would afford but feeble -guidance in a place where at any step there might be a pitfall. - -Major Hampton was a philosopher, but this was a new experience, -startling and unique. Everything around was pitch dark. He seemed to -be enveloped in a smothering black robe. Presently above the murmur -and swish of running water he could hear his heart beating. He mentally -figured that he must have reached a distance of not less than three -miles from Spirit River Falls. The pathway had proved fairly smooth -walking, but unknown dangers were ahead, while a return trip in Stygian -darkness would be an ordeal fraught with much risk. - -Stooping over the low bank he thrust his hand into the current to make -sure of its course. The water was only a little below the flat ledge of -rock on which he was standing, and was cold as the waters of a mountain -spring. It occurred to him that he had been thirsty for a long time -although in his excitement he had not been conscious of this. So he lay -down flat and thrust his face into the cool grateful water. - -Rising again to his feet he felt greatly refreshed, his nerve restored, -and he had just about concluded to retrace his steps when his eyes, by -this time somewhat accustomed to the darkness, discovered in an upstream -direction, a tiny speck of light He blinked and then questioningly -rubbed his eyes. But still the speck did not disappear. It seemed no -larger than a silver half dollar. It might be a ray of light filtering -through some crevice, indicating a tunnel perhaps that would afford -means of escape. - -Using his gun as a staff wherewith to feel his way and keeping as far -as possible from the water's edge, Major Hampton moved slowly upstream -toward the guiding spot of radiance. In a little while he became -convinced it was the light of day shining in through an opening. The -speck grew larger and larger as he slowly moved forward. - -Every once in a while he would stop and turn his face in the opposite -direction, remaining in this position for a few moments and then quickly -turning round again to satisfy himself that he was under no illusion. -But the luminous disc was really growing larger--it appeared now to -be as big as a saucer. His heart throbbed with hope and his judgment -approved that the advance should be continued. - -Yes, the light was increasing, and looking down he fancied he could -almost see the butt of his gun which was being used as a walking stick. -Presently his feet could indistinctly be seen, and then the rocky -pavement over which he was so cautiously shuffling his way. - -Ten minutes later the mouth of a tunnel was reached, and he was safe -once more, bathed in God's own sunshine, his eyes still dazzled after -the Cimmerian blackness from which he had emerged. He had traversed the -entire length of the subterranean cave or river channel, and had reached -the opposite side of a high mountain. Perhaps the distance through -was only about three and a half miles. Trees and underbrush grew in -profusion about the mouth of the tunnel into which the hidden river -flowed. There was less snow than on the other side of the barrier. Deer -sign were everywhere, and he followed a zig-zag deer path out into an -open narrow valley. - -The Major's heart now leaped with the exultation of accomplishment. -Brushing the light covering of snow away, he seated himself on the bank -of the stream which could not, now that he looked upon it in the -open day, be dignified by calling it a river. Along the edges of the -watercourse were fringes of ice but in the center the rapid flow was -unobstructed. - -It was only a big mountain brook, but one perhaps that had never been -seen before by the eyes of man. The exploration and the excitement -together had greatly fatigued Buell Hampton, and he was beginning to be -conscious of physical exhaustion and the need of food notwithstanding -the sustaining stimulus of being a discoverer in one of Nature's -jealously guarded wonderlands. - -After resting a short time he started to walk farther into the valley -and forage along the stream. The hunter was on the lookout for grouse -but succeeded in shooting only a young sage hen. This was quickly -dressed and broiled, the forked stick that served as a spit being -skilfully turned in the blaze of a fire of twigs and brushwood. The -repast was a modest one, but the wayfarer felt greatly refreshed, and -now stepped briskly on, following the water channel toward its fountain -head. - -It was indeed a beautiful valley--an ideal one--very little snow and the -deer so plentiful that at a distance they might be mistaken for flocks -of grazing sheep. The valley appeared to be exceedingly fertile in -season. It was a veritable park, and so far as the explorer could -at present determine was completely surrounded by high snow-capped -mountains which were steep enough to be called precipices. He soon came -to a dyke that ran across the valley at right angles to the stream. -It was of porphyry formation, rising to a height of from three to four -feet, and reaching right across the narrow valley from foothill to -foothill. When Major Hampton climbed upon this dyke he noticed that the -swiftly flowing brook had cut an opening through it as evenly almost as -if the work had been chiseled by man. He was anxious to know whether the -valley would lead to an opening from among the mountains, and after a -brief halt pushed hurriedly on. - -But an hour later he had retraced his steps and was again seated on -the bench-like dyke of porphyry. He had made a complete circuit of this -strange "nest" or gash in the vastness of the Rocky Mountain Range and -was convinced there was no opening. The brook had its rise in a number -of mammoth springs high up on the mountain foothills at the upper end -of the valley, where it was also fed by several waterfalls that dropped -from the dizzy cliffs far above. - -The valley was perhaps three miles long east and west and not over -one-half mile wide north and south. The contour of the mountain sides -to the south conformed to the contour on the north, justifying the -reasonable conjecture that an earthquake or violent volcanic upheaval -must have tom the mountains apart in prehistoric times. It was evidently -in all truth a hidden valley--not on the map of the U. S. Survey--a -veritable new land. - -"To think," mused the Major, aloud, "that I have discovered a new -possession. What an asylum for the weary! Surely the day has been full -of startling surprises." - -He was seated on the dyke almost at the very edge of the brock where the -waters were singing their song of peaceful content. He let his glance -again sweep the valley with the satisfied look of one conscious of some -unanalyzed good fortune. - -There was no snow on the porphyry dyke where he rested. It was -moss-covered in many places with the coating of countless centuries. -Most likely no human foot but his had ever pressed the sod of this -sequestered nook among the mighty mountains. The very thought was -uplifting--inspiring. Pulling his hunter's hatchet from its sheath he -said aloud: "I christen thee 'Hidden Valley,'" and struck the porphyry -rock a vigorous blow, so vigorous indeed that it chipped off a goodly -piece. - -Major Buell Hampton paused, astonished. He looked and then he looked -again. He picked up the chipped off piece of rock and gazed long and -earnestly at it, then rubbed his eyes in amazement. It was literally -gleaming with pure gold. - -Immediately the hatchet again came into play. Piece after piece was -broken open and all proved to be alike--rich specimens fit for the -cabinet of a collector. The drab moss-covered dyke really contained -the wealth of a King Solomon's mine. It was true--true, though almost -unbelievable. Yet in this moment of overwhelming triumph Buell Hampton -saw not with the eyes of avarice and greed for personal gain, but rather -with the vision of the humanitarian. Unlimited wealth had always been -for him a ravishing dream, but he had longed for it, passionately, -yearningly, not as a means to supply pleasures for himself but to -assuage the miseries of a suffering world. - -He was not skilled in judging rock carrying values of precious metals, -but in this instance the merest novice could hardly be mistaken. Hastily -breaking as much of the golden ore as he could carry in his huge coat -pockets and taking one last sweeping survey over the valley, the Major -started on his return trip to Spirit River Falls. Arriving at the point -where the waters of the brook disappeared in the natural tunnel of the -"Hidden River," the name he mentally gave to the romantic stream, he -gathered some torch material and then started on the return trip. Two -hours later he emerged from behind the turbulent waters at Spirit River -Falls. In the waning afternoon he regained his camp. After watering his -patient horse, giving it another feed of oats and apologizing with many -a gentle caressing pat for his long absence and seeming neglect, the -Major set out for home, the dressed deer strapped on behind his saddle, -with the deer skin rolled around the venison as a protection. - -Early the following morning Buell Hampton visited an assay office, -carrying with him an ore sack containing nine pounds and a half of ore. -The Major felt certain it was ore--gold ore, almost pure gold--but was -almost afraid of his own convictions. The discovery was really too good -to be true. - -The assayer tossed the sack of gold onto a table where other samples -were awaiting his skill and said: "All right, Major, come in sometime -tomorrow." - -"It's important," replied the Major, "that you assay it at once. It is -high grade; I wish to sell." - -"Oh, ho!" replied the assayer with elevated eyebrows. Possibly he was -like many another who encouraged the "high-graders" in their nefarious -thefts from their employers when they were trusted to work on a rich -property. - -"Why, Major Hampton, I didn't know you were one of 'em--one of us," and -he finished with a leer and a laugh. "Bet I can tell what mine it came -from," he went on as he leisurely untied the ore sacks. - -"I will remain right here," replied Major Hampton firmly, without -yielding to the assayer's offensive hilarity, "until you have my samples -assayed and make me an offer." - -By this time the sack of rock had been emptied into an ore pan and the -astonishment depicted on the assayer's countenance would have beggared -description. The sight of the ore staggered him into silence. Other work -was pushed hurriedly aside and before very long the fire test was in -process of being made. When finally finished the "button" weighed at -the rate of $114.67 per pound, and the assayer, still half bewildered, -handed over a check for almost eleven hundred dollars. - -"I say," he almost shouted, "I say, Major Hampton, where in hell did -that ore come from? Surely not from any of the producing mines about -here?" - -"It seems to be a producer, all right," replied the Major, as he folded -the check and placed it in his pocketbook. - - - - -CHAPTER X.--THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE - - -WHEN Buell Hampton left the assayer's office he felt a chilliness in -the air that caused him to cast his eyes upwards. There had been bright -sunshine early that morning, but now the whole sky was overcast with a -dull monotonous gray pall. Not a breath of wind was stirring; there -was just a cold stillness in the air that told its own tale to those -experienced in the weather signs of the mountains. - -"Snow," muttered the Major, emphatically. "It has been long in coming -this winter, but we'll have a big fall by night." - -The season indeed had been exceptionally mild. There had been one or two -flurries of snow, but each had been followed by warm days and the light -fall had speedily melted, at least in the open valley. High up, the -mountains had their white garb of winter, but even at these elevations -there had been no violent storms. - -Buell Hampton, however, realized that the lingering autumn was now gone, -and that soon the whole region would be in the rigorous grip of the -Snow King. Henceforth for some months to come would be chill winds, -protracted and frequently recurring downfalls of snow, great high-banked -snowdrifts in the canyons, and later on the mighty snowslides that -sheared timber-clad mountain slopes as if with a giant's knife and -occasionally brought death and destruction to some remote mining camp. -For the present the Major's hunting expeditions were at an end. But as -he glanced at the heavy canopy of snow-laden cloud he also knew that -days must elapse, weeks perhaps, before he could revisit the hidden -valley high up in the mountains. For yet another winter tide Nature -would hold her treasure safe from despoiling hands. - -Buell Hampton faced the situation with characteristic philosophy. All -through the afternoon he mused on his good fortune. He was glad to have -brought down even only a thousand dollars from the golden storehouse, -for this money would ensure comfort during the inclement season for a -good few humble homes. Meanwhile, like a banker with reserves of bullion -safely locked up in his vault, he could plan out the future and see how -the treasure was to be placed to best advantage. In Buell Hampton's case -the field of investment was among the poor and struggling, and the only -dividends he cared for were increased percentages of human happiness. -The coming of winter only delayed the good work he had in mind, but -even now the consciousness of power to perform brought great joy to his -heart. Alone in his home he paced the big room, only pausing at times -to throw another log on the fire or gaze awhile into the glowing embers, -day-dreaming, unspeakably happy in his day-dreams. - -Meanwhile, in anticipation of the coming snowstorm, young Warfield was -riding the range and gathering cattle and yearlings that had strayed -away from the herd. As he was surmounting a rather steep foothill across -the valleys to the westward between the two Encampment rivers, he was -startled at hearing the patter of a horse's hoofs. Quickly looking up -he saw a young woman on horseback dashing swiftly along and swinging -a lariat. She wore a divided brown skirt, wide sombrero, fringed -gauntlets, and sat her horse with graceful ease and confidence. She was -coming down the mountainside at right angles to his course. - -Bringing his pony quickly to a standstill Roderick watched the spirited -horse-woman as she let go her lariat at an escaping yearling that -evidently had broken out of some corral The lariat went straight to its -mark, and almost at the same moment he heard her voice as she spoke -to her steed, quickly but in soft melodious tones: "That will do, -Fleetfoot. Whoa!" Instantly the well-trained horse threw himself well -back on his haunches and veered to the left. The fleeing yearling was -caught around one of its front feet and thrown as neatly as the most -expert cowboy on the range could have done it. - -"By George," said Roderick to himself, "what a fine piece of work." -He watched with admiring eyes as the young lady sat her horse in an -attitude of waiting. Presently a cowboy rode up, and relieving her of -the catch started the yearling back, evidently toward the corral Turning -about, the horsewoman started her horse at a canter directly toward him, -and Roderick fell to wondering what sort of a discovery he had made. - -A moment later she brought her horse to a standstill and acknowledged -his salutation as he lifted his sombrero. He saw the red blood glowing -under the soft tan of her cheeks, and as their eyes met he was fairly -dazzled by her beauty. He recognized at a glance the western type of -girl, frank and fearless, accustomed to the full and health-giving -freedom of life in the open, yet accomplished and domesticated, equally -at home in the most tastefully adorned drawing room as here on horseback -among the mountains. - -"I beg pardon," he said in a stammering way, "but can I be of any -service?" - -At his words she pulled her pony to a standstill and said: "In what -way, pray?"--and there was a mischievous smile at Roderick's obvious -embarrassment. - -"Why, I saw you lariating a yearling." - -"Oh," she said, throwing back her head and laughing softly, "that was a -long time ago. It is doubtless in the corral by now." - -As she spoke, Roderick dismounted. He was capable now of assimilating -details, and noted the silken dark Egyptian locks that fell in fluffy -waves over her temples in a most bewitching manner, and the eyes that -shone with the deep dark blue of the sapphire. His gaze must have -betrayed his admiration, for, courteously waving her hand, she touched -with her spurs the flanks of her mount and bounded away across the -hills. Roderick was left standing in wonderment. - -"Who the dickens can she be?" he soliloquized. "I've been riding the -range for a good many weeks, but this is the first time I've spotted -this mountain beauty." - -Throwing himself onto his horse, he started down toward the south -fork of the Encampment river and on to the westward the Shields ranch, -wondering as he rode along who this strange girl of the hills could be. -Once or twice he thought of Stella Rain and he manfully endeavored to -keep his mind concentrated on the one to whom he was betrothed, running -over in memory her last letter, reckoning the time that must elapse -before the next one would arrive, recalling the tender incidents of -their parting now two months ago. But his efforts were in vain. Always -there kept recurring the vision of loveliness he had encountered on the -range, and the mystery that surrounded the fair rider's identity. Once -again since Major Buell Hampton's long diatribe on love and matrimony, -he was vaguely conscious that his impetuous love-making on that -memorable evening at Galesburg might have been a mistake, and that the -little "college widow" in her unselfishness had spoken words of wisdom -when she had counselled him to wait awhile--until he really did know his -own mind--until he had really tried out his own heart, yes, until--Great -heavens, he found himself recalling her very words, spoken with tears -in her soft pretty eyes: "That's just the trouble, Roderick. You do not -know--you cannot make a comparison, nor you won't know until the other -girl comes along." - -Had the other girl at last come? But at the disloyal thought he spurred -his horse to a gallop, and as he did so the first snowflakes of the -coming storm fluttered cold and damp against his flushed cheeks. At last -he thought of other things; he was wondering now, as he glanced around -into the thickening atmosphere, whether all the stray mavericks were at -last safe in the winter pastures and corrals. - - - - -CHAPTER XI.--WINTER PASSES - - -THAT night the big snow storm did indeed come, and when Roderick woke -up next morning it was to find mountain and valley covered with a vast -bedspread of immaculate white and the soft snowflakes still descending -like a feathery down. The storm did not catch Mr. Shields unprepared; -his vast herds were safe and snug in their winter quarters. - -The break in the weather marked the end of Roderick's range riding for -the season. He was now a stock feeder and engaged in patching up the -corrals and otherwise playing his part of a ranch hand. And with this -stay-at-home life he found himself thinking more and more of the real -mission that had brought him into this land of mountains. Nearly every -night when his work was finished, he studied a certain map of the -hills--the inheritance left him by his father. On this map were noted -"Sheep Mountain," "Bennet Peak," "Hahn's Peak" and several other -prominent landmarks. From his own acquaintance with the country Roderick -now knew that the lost valley was quite a distance to the south and west -from the Shields ranch. - -Thus the wintry days wore on, and with their passing Roderick became -more and more firm in his determination to be ready, when the snow was -gone in the spring, to take up his father's unfinished task of finding -again the sandbar abounding with nuggets of gold. Indeed in his life of -isolation it gradually came about that he thought of little else by day -and dreamed of nothing else at night. Sometimes in the solitude of his -room he smiled at his loneliness. What a change from the old college -days--from the stir and excitement of New York. During the winter he had -been invited to a score of gatherings, dances, and parties, but somehow -he had become taciturn and had declined all invitations. - -Then, with stern self-control he had succeeded in putting out of mind -the mysterious beauty of the range. Love at first sight!--he had laughed -down such silliness, and rooted out of his heart the base treason that -had even for a fleeting moment permitted such a thought. Yes, there was -nothing but firmest loyalty in his mind for Stella Rain, who was waiting -for him so faithfully and patiently, and whose letters cheered him and -filled him with greater determination than ever to find the lost mine. - -His labors on the ranch were arduous but his health was excellent. At -college he had been an athlete--now he was a rugged, bronzed-faced son -of the hills. His only recreations were laying plans for the future and -writing letters to Stella. - -Not infrequently his mind wandered back to Keokuk, the old river town, -and his heart grew regretful that he had quarreled with his Unde Allen -Miller, and his thoughts were tender of his Aunt Lois. Once he wrote -a letter to Whitley Adams, then tore it up in a dissatisfied way, -returning to the determination to make his fortune before communicating -with his old friends. - -And so the winter passed, and spring had come again. - -It was one morning in early May, just after he had finished his chores, -when to his surprise Grant Jones shouted to him through the corral -fence: "Hello, old man, how is ranching agreeing with you, anyway?" - -"Fine," responded Roderick, "fine and dandy." He let himself through -the gate of the corral and shook hands with Grant. "Come up to the bunk -house; seems mighty good to see you." - -"Thanks," responded Grant, as they walked along. "Do you know, Warfield, -I have been shut up over on the other side of the range ever since that -first big snow-storm? I paddled out on snowshoes only once during the -winter, and then walked over the tops of trees. Plenty of places up on -the Sierra Madre," continued Grant, nodding his head to the westward, -"where the snow is still twenty to thirty feet deep. If a fellow had -ever broken through, why, of course, he would have been lost until the -spring." - -"Terrible to think about," said Roderick. - -"Oh, that's not all," said Grant with his old exuberant laugh. "It would -have been so devilish long from a fellow's passing until his obituary -came to be written. That is what gets on my nerves when I'm out on -snowshoes. Of course the columns of the _Doublejack_ are always open -to write-ups on dead unfortunates, but it likes to have 'em as near as -possible to the actual date of demise. Then it's live news." - -"Sounds rather grewsome," said Roderick, smiling at Grant's oddity of -expression. - -Arriving at the bunk house, they were soon seated around a big stove -where a brisk fire was burning, for the air without was still sharp and -the wind cutting and cold. - -"I can offer you a pipe and some mighty fine tobacco," said Roderick, -pushing a tray toward him carrying a jar of tobacco and half-a-dozen cob -pipes. - -"Smells good," commented Grant, as he accepted and began to fill one of -the pipes. - -"Well, tell me something about yourself, Grant. I supposed the -attraction over here at the ranch was quite enough to make you brave -snowstorms and snow-slides and thirty-foot snowdrifts." - -"Warfield," said Grant, half seriously, between puffs at his pipe, "that -is what I want to talk with you about. The inducement is sufficient for -all you suggest. She is a wonder. Without any question, Dorothy Shields -is the sweetest girl that ever lived." - -"Hold on," smiled Roderick. "There may be others in the different parts -of the world." - -"Is that so?" ejaculated Grant with a rising inflection, while his -countenance suggested an interrogation point. - -"No, I have no confessions to make," rejoined Roderick, as he struck a -match to light his pipe. - -"Well, that's just what is troubling me," said Grant, still serious. -"I was just wondering if anyone else had been browsing on my range over -here at the Shields ranch while I have been penned up like a groundhog, -getting out my weekly edition of the _Dillon Doublejock_, sometimes -only fifty papers at an issue. Think of it!" And they both laughed at -the ludicrous meagerness of such a circulation. - -"But never mind," continued Grant, reflectively, "I will run my -subscriptions up to three or four hundred in sixty days when the snow is -off the ground." - -"Yes, that is all very well, old man. But when will the snow be off? I -am considerably interested myself, for I want to do some prospecting." - -"Hang your prospecting," said Grant, "or when the snow will go either. -You haven't answered my question." - -"Oh, as to whether anyone has been browsing on your range?" exclaimed -Roderick. "I must confess I do not know. They have had dances and -parties and all that sort of thing but--I really don't know, I have -not felt in the mood and declined to attend. How do you find the little -queen of your heart? Has she forgotten you?" - -"No-o," responded Grant, slowly. "But dam it all, I can't talk very well -before the whole family. I am an out-door man. You give me the hills as -a background and those millions of wild flowers that color our valleys -along in July like Joseph's coat, and it makes me bubble over with -poetry and I can talk to beat a phonograph monologist." This was said in -a jovial, joking tone, but beneath it all Roderick knew there was much -serious truth. - -"How is it, Grant? Are you pretty badly hit?" - -"Right square between the eyes, old man. Why, do you know, sitting -over in that rocky gorge of Dillon canyon in the little town of Dillon, -writing editorials for the Double jack month after month and no one to -read my paper, I have had time to think it all over, and I have made up -my mind to come here to the Shields ranch and tell Dorothy it is my firm -conviction that she is the greatest woman on top of the earth, and that -life to me without her is simply--well, I don't have words to describe -the pitiful loneliness of it all without her." - -Roderick leaned back in his chair and laughed hilariously at his friend. - -"This is no joking matter," said Grant. "I'm a goner." - -Just then there came a knock at the door and Roderick hastily arose to -bid welcome to the caller. To the surprise of both the visitor proved to -be Major Buell Hampton. - -Major Hampton exchanged cordial greetings and expressed his great -pleasure at finding his two young friends together. Accepting the -invitation to be seated, he drew his meerschaum from his pocket and -proceeded to fill from a tobacco pouch made of deer skin. - -"My dear Mr. Jones and' Mr. Warfield," he began, "where have you been -all through the winter?" - -"For myself, right here doing chores about twelve hours per day," -answered Roderick. - -"As for me," said Grant, "I have been way over 'yonder' editing the -_Dillon Doublejack._ I have fully a score of subscribers who would have -been heartbroken if I had missed a single issue. I snow-shoed in to -Encampment once, but your castle was locked and nobody seemed to know -where you had gone, Major." - -Jones had again laughed good-naturedly over the limited circulation of -his paper. Major Hampton smiled, while Roderick observed that there was -nothing like living in a literary atmosphere. - -"If your circulation is small your persistence is certainly -commendable," observed the Major, looking benignly at Jones but not -offering to explain his absence from Encampment when Jones had called. -"I have just paid my respects," he went on, "to Mr. and Mrs. Shields and -their lovely daughters, and learned that you were also visiting these -hospitable people. My errand contemplated calling upon Mr. Warfield as -well. I almost feel I have been neglected. The latchstring hangs on the -outside of my door for Mr. War-field as well as for you, Mr. Jones." - -"Many thanks," observed Roderick. - -"Your compliment is not unappreciated," said Grant. "When do you return -to Encampment?" - -"Immediately after luncheon," replied the Major. - -"Very well, I will go along with you," said Grant. "I came over on my -skis." - -"It will be a pleasure for me to extend the hospitality of the -comfortable riding sled that brought me over," responded the Major with -Chesterfieldian politeness. "Jim Rankin is one of the safest drivers -in the country and he has a fine spirited team, while the sledding is -simply magnificent." - -"Although the jingle of sleigh-bells always makes me homesick," remarked -Roderick, "I'd feel mighty pleased to return with you." - -"It will be your own fault, Mr. Warfield, if you do not accompany us. I -have just been talking to Mr. Shields, and he says you are the most -remarkable individual he has ever had on his ranch--a regular hermit -They never see you up at the house, and you have not been away from the -ranch for months, while the young ladies, Miss Barbara and Miss Dorothy, -think it perfectly horrid--to use their own expression--that you never -leave your quarters here or spend an evening with the family." - -"Roderick," observed Grant, "I never thought you were a stuck-up prig -before, but now I know you for what you are. But there must be an end to -such exclusiveness. Let someone else do the chores. Get ready and come -on back to Encampment with us, and we'll have a royal evening together -at the Major's home." - -"Excellent idea," responded the Major. "I have some great secrets to -impart--but I am not sure I will tell you one of them," he added with a -good-natured smile. The others laughed at his excess of caution. - -"Very well," said Roderick, "if Mr. Shields can spare me for a few days -I'll accept your invitation." - -At this moment the door was opened unceremoniously and in walked the two -Miss Shields. The men hastily arose and laid aside their pipes. - -"We are here as messengers," said Miss Dorothy, smiling. "You, Mr. -Warfield, are to come up to the house and have dinner with us as well as -the Major and Grant." - -"Glorious," said Grant, smiling broadly. "Roderick, did you hear that? -She calls you Mr. Warfield and she calls me Grant. Splendid, splendid!" - -"I know somebody that will have their ears cuffed in a moment," observed -Miss Dorothy. - -"Again I ejaculate splendid!" said Grant in great hilarity, as if daring -her. - -"It is a mystery to me," observed the Major, "how two such charming -young ladies can remain so unappreciated." - -"Why, Major," protested Barbara, "we are not unappreciated. Everybody -thinks we are just fine." - -"Major," observed Grant with great solemnity, "this is an opportunity -I have long wanted." He cleared his throat, winked at Roderick, made a -sweeping glance at the young ladies and observed: "I wanted to express -my admiration, yes, I might say my affection for--" - -Dorothy's face was growing pink. She divined Grant's ardent feelings -although he had spoken not one word of love to her. Lightly springing to -his side, she playfully but firmly placed her hands over his mouth and -turned whatever else he had to say into incoherency. - -This ended Grant's declaration. Even Major Buell Hampton smiled and -Roderick inquired: "Grant, what are you mumbling about?" - -Dorothy dropped her hand. - -"Oh, just trying to tell her to keep me muzzled forever," Grant smiled, -and Dorothy's cheeks were red with blushes. - -With this final sally all started for the big ranch house where they -found that a sumptuous meal had been prepared. - -During the repast Barbara learned of the proposed reunion of the three -friends at Encampment, and insisted that her father should give a few -days' vacation to Mr. Warfield. The favor was quickly granted, and an -hour later Jim Rankin brought up his bob-sled and prancing team, and -to the merry sound of the sleigh-bells Major Buell Hampton and the two -young men sped away for Encampment. - -It was arranged that Roderick and Grant should have an hour or two to -themselves and then call later in the evening on the Major. - -Roderick was half irritated to find no letter at the post office from -Stella Rain. In point of fact, during the past two months, he had been -noticing longer and longer gaps in her correspondence. Sometimes he felt -his vanity touched and was inclined to be either angry or humiliated. -But at other times he just vaguely wondered whether his loved one was -drifting away from him. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--THE MAJOR'S FIND - - -WHEN Grant Jones and Roderick arrived at the Major's home that evening -they found other visitors already installed before the cheerful blaze of -the open hearth. These were Tom Sun, owner of more sheep than any -other man in the state; Boney Earnest, the blast furnace man in the big -smelting plant; and Jim Rankin, who had joined his two old cronies after -unharnessing the horses from the sleigh. - -Cordial introductions and greetings were exchanged. Although Roderick -had shaken hands before with Boney Earnest, this was their first meeting -in a social way. And it was the very first time he had encountered -Tom Sun. Therefore the fortuitous gathering of his father's three old -friends came to him as a pleasant surprise. He was glad of the chance to -get better acquainted. - -While the company were settling themselves in chairs around the -fireplace, Jim Rankin seized the moment for a private confabulation with -Roderick. He drew the young man into a corner and addressed him in a -mysterious whisper: "By gunnies, Mr. War-field, it sure is powerful good -to have yer back agin. It's seemed a tarnation long winter. But you bet -I've been keepin' my mind on things--our big secret--you know." - -Roderick nodded and Rankin went on: "I've been prognosticatin' out this -here way and then that way on a dozen trips after our onderstandin', -searchin' like fur that business; but dang my buttons it's pesterin' -hard to locate and don't you forgit it. Excuse us, gentlemen, we are -talkin' about certain private matters but we don't mean ter be impolite. -I'm 'lowin' it's the biggest secret in these diggin's--ain't that right, -Roderick?" - -Rankin laughed good-humoredly at his own remarks as he took out his -tobacco pouch of fine cut and stowed away a huge cud. "You bet yer -life," he continued between vigorous chews, "somebody is nachurlly going -to be a heap flustrated 'round here one of these days, leastways that's -what we're assoomin'." - -"Say, Jim," observed Tom Sun, "what are you talkin' about anyway? Boney, -I think Jim is just as crazy as ever." - -"I reckon that's no lie," responded Boney, good-naturedly. "Always was -as crazy as a March hare with a bone in its throat." - -"Say, look here you fellows, yer gittin' tumultuous," exclaimed Rankin, -"you're interferin'. Say, Major Hampton, I'm not a dangnation bit -peevish or nuthin' like that, but do you know who are the four biggest -and most ponderous liars in the state of Wyoming?" The Major looked up -in surprise but did not reply. "Waal," said Rankin, expectorating toward -the burning logs in the open hearth and proceeding to answer his own -question, "Boney Earnest is sure one uv 'em, I am one uv 'em, and Tom -Sun is 'tother two." Rankin guffawed loudly. This brought forth quite an -expression of merriment The only reply from Tom Sun was that his thirty -odd years of association with Jim Rankin and Boney Earnest was quite -enough to make a prince of liars of anyone. - -Presently the Major said: "Gentlemen, after taking a strict inventory -I find there are six men in the world for whom I entertain an especial -interest. Of course, my mission in life in a general way is in behalf -of humanity, but there are six who have come to be closer to me than all -the rest Five of them are before me. Of the other I will not speak at -this time. I invited you here this evening because you represent in a -large measure the things that I stand for. The snow will soon be going, -spring is approaching and great things will happen during the next -year--far greater than you dream of. You are friends of mine and I -have decided under certain restrictions to share with you an important -secret." - -Thereupon he pointed to some little sacks, until now unnoticed, that lay -on the center table. "Untie these sacks and empty the contents onto the -table if you will, Mr. Warfield." Roderick complied. - -Each sack held about a hatful of broken rock, and to the amazement of -the Major's guests Roderick emptied out on the table the richest gold -ores that any of them had ever beheld. They were porphyry and white -quartz, shot full of pure gold and stringers of gold. Indeed the pieces -of quartz were seemingly held together with purest wire gold. - -The natural query that was in the heart of everyone was soon given voice -by Jim Rankin. After scanning the remarkable exhibit he turned to Major -Buell Hampton and exclaimed: "Gosh 'lmighty, Major, where did this here -come from?" - -"A most natural question but one which I am not inclined to answer -at this time," said the Major, smiling benignly. "Gentlemen, it is my -intention that everyone present shall share with me in a substantial way -in the remarkable discovery, the evidence of which is lying before you. -There are five of you and I enjoin upon each the most solemn pledge of -secrecy, even as regards the little you have yet learned of the great -secret which I possess." - -They all gave their pledges, and the Major went on: "There is enough -of these remarkably rich ores for everyone. But should the slightest -evidence come to me that anyone of you gentlemen has been so -thoughtless, or held the pledge you have just made so lightly, that you -have shared with any outsider the information so far given, his name -will assuredly be eliminated from this pact. Therefore, it is not only -a question of honor but a question of self-interest, and I feel sure the -former carries with it more potency with each of you than the latter." - -In the meantime Roderick was closely examining the samples of gold. -Instinctively he had put his hand to the inside pocket of his coat and -felt for his father's map. He was wondering whether Buell Hampton had -come into possession of the identical piece of knowledge he himself was -searching for. Presently Jim Rankin whispered in his ear: "By gunnies, -Warfield, I guess the Major has beat us to it." - -But Roderick shook his head reassuringly. He remembered that his -father's find was placer gold--water-worn nuggets taken from a sandbar -in some old channel, as the sample in Jim Rankin's own possession -showed. The ores he was now holding were of quite a different -class--they had been broken from the living rock. - -After the specimens had been returned to the sample sacks and the -excitement had quieted a little, Major Hampton threw his head back in -his own princely way, as he sat in his easy chair before the fire and -observed: "Money may be a blessing or it may be a curse. Personally I -shall regret the discovery if a single dollar of this wealth, which it -is in my power to bring to the light of day, should ever bring sorrow to -humanity. It is my opinion that the richest man in the world should not -possess more than a quarter of a million dollars at most, and even that -amount is liable to make a very poor citizen out of an otherwise -good man. Unnecessary wealth merely stimulates to abnormal or wicked -extravagance. It is also self-evident that a more equal distribution of -wealth would obtain if millionaires were unknown, and greater happiness -would naturally follow." - -"Yes, but the world requires 'spenders' as well as getters,'" laughed -Tom Sun. "Otherwise we would all be dying of sheer weariness of each -other." - -"Surely, there are arguments on both sides," assented the Major. "It -is a difficult problem. I was merely contending that a community of -comparatively poor people who earn their bread by the sweat of -their brow--tilling the soil and possessed of high ideals of good -citizenship--such people beyond question afford the greatest example of -contentment, morality and happiness. Great wealth is the cause of some -of our worst types of degeneracy. However," he concluded, knocking the -ashes from his pipe, "it is not my purpose this evening to sermonize. -Nor do I intend at present to say anything more about the rich gold -discovery I have made except to reiterate my assurance that at the -proper time all you gentlemen will be called on to share in the -enterprise and in its profits. Now I believe some of you"--and he looked -at Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest as he spoke--"have another -engagement tonight. It was only at my special request, Mr. Warfield, -that they remained to meet you and Mr. Jones." - -"And we're much obliged to you, Major," said Boney Earnest, arising -and glancing at his watch. "Hope old John Warfield's boy and I will get -still better acquainted. But I've got to be going now. You see my wife -insisted that I bring the folks back early so that she might have a -visit with Mr. Rankin and Mr. Sun." - -Tom Sun shook hands cordially. - -"Glad to have met you, Mr. Warfield," he said, "for your father's sake -as well as your own. I trust we'll meet often. Good-night, Mr. Jones." - -Rankin whispered something to Roderick, but Roderick did not catch the -words, and when he attempted to inquire the old fellow merely nodded -his head and said aloud: "You bet your life; I'm assoomin' this is -jist 'tween me and you." Roderick smiled at this oddity, as the man of -mystery followed his friends from the room. - -When the door closed and Roderick and Grant were alone with the -Major, pipes were again lighted, and a spell of silence fell upon the -group--the enjoyable silence of quiet companionship. The Major showed no -disposition to re-open the subject of the rich gold discovery, nor did -Roderick feel inclined to press for further information. As he mused, -however, he became more firmly convinced than before that his secret was -still his own--that Buell Hampton, in this rugged mountain region with -its many undiscovered storehouses of wealth, had tumbled on a different -gold-bearing spot to that located by Uncle Allen Miller and his father. -Some day, perhaps, he would show the Major the letter and the map. But -to do this now might seem like begging the favor of further confidences, -so until these were volunteered Roderick must pursue his own lonesome -trail. The mere sight of the gold, however, had quickened his pulse -beats. To resume the humdrum life at the ranch seemed intolerable. He -longed to be out on the hills with his favorite pony Badger, searching -every nook and corner for the hidden treasure. - -Presently Buell Hampton arose and laid his pipe aside, and going to a -curtained corner of the room returned with his violin. And long into -the night, with only a fitful light from the burning logs in the -open fireplace, the Major played for his young friends. It seemed his -repertoire was without beginning and without end. As he played his moods -underwent many changes. Now he was gay and happy, at another moment -sad and wistful. He passed from sweet low measures into wild, thrilling -abandonment. Now he was drawing divine harmony from the strings by -dainty caresses, again he was almost brutally compelling them to render -forth the fierce passion of music that was surging in his own soul. -The performance held the listeners spellbound--left them for the moment -speechless when at last the player dropped into a chair. The instrument -was laid across his knees; he was still fondling it with gentle touches -and taps from his long slender fingers. - -"You love your violin, Major," Roderick at last managed to articulate. - -"Yes," came the low-spoken fervent reply, "every crease, crevice and -string of the dear old Cremona that was given me more than half a -century ago." - -"I wish," said Grant, "that I could express my appreciation of the -wonderful entertainment you have given us tonight." - -"You are very complimentary," replied the Major, bestirring himself. -He rose, laid the violin on the table, and brightened up the fire with -additional fuel. - -"But I'm afraid we must be going," added Grant. "It is getting late." - -"Well, I have a message for you young gentlemen," said the Major. "You -are invited to attend one of the most distinguished soirees ever given -in the Platte River Valley. Mr. and Mrs. Shields mentioned this today, -and made me the special messenger to extend the invitation to you both." - -"Splendid," exclaimed Grant. "When does this come off?" - -"Two weeks from this evening," replied the Major. "And we will have a -comparative newcomer to the valley to grace the occasion. She has been -here through the late fall and winter, but has been too busy nursing her -sick and bereaved old father to go out into society." - -"General Holden's daughter?" queried Grant. - -"The same. And Gail Holden is certainly a most beautiful young lady. -Have you seen her, Mr. War-field?" - -"Not that I'm aware of," replied Roderick. - -"A most noble young woman, too," continued the Major. "They are Illinois -people. The mother died last year under sad circumstances--all the -family fortune swept away. But the girl chanced to own these Wyoming -acres in her own right, so she brought her father here, and has started -a little cattle ranch, going in for pedigreed dairy stock and likely to -do well too, make no mistake. You should just see her swing a lariat," -the speaker added with a ring of admiration in his tone. - -Roderick started. Great Scott! could this be the fair horsewoman he had -encountered on the mountain side just before the coming of the big snow. -But a vigorous slap on his shoulder administered by Grant broke him from -reverie. - -"Why don't you say something, old fellow? Isn't this glorious news? Are -you not delighted at the opportunity of tripping the light fantastic -toe with a beauty from Illinois as well as our own home-grown Wyoming -belles?" - -"Well," replied Roderick slowly, "I have not been attending any of these -affairs, although I may do so in this instance." - -"Miss Barbara Shields," said the Major, "especially requested me -to tell you, Mr. Warfield, that she positively insists on your being -present." - -"Ho, ho!" laughed Grant. "So you've made a hit in that quarter, eh, -Roderick? Well, better a prospective brother-in-law than a dangerous -rival. Dorothy's mine, and don't you forget it." - -Grant's boyish hilarity was contagious, his gay audacity amusing. Even -the Major laughed heartily. But Roderick was blushing furiously. A -moment before he had been thinking of one fair charmer. And now here was -another being thrown at him, so to speak, although in jest and not in -earnest. Barbara Shields--he had never dared to think of her as within -his reach even had not loyalty bound his affections elsewhere. But the -complications seemed certainly to be thickening. - -"Come along, old chap," said Grant, as they gained the roadway. "We'll -have a look through the town, just to see if there's any news about." - -THE Bazaar was a popular resort. The proprietor was known as -"Southpaw." Doubtless he had another name but it was not known in -the mining camp. Even his bank account was carried in the name of -"Southpaw." - -When Roderick and Grant entered the saloon they found a motley crowd -at the bar and in the gaming room, fully twenty cowboys with their -broad-rimmed sombreros, wearing hairy chaps, decorated with fancy belts -and red handkerchiefs carelessly tied about their necks. Evidently one -of them had just won at the wheel and they were celebrating. - -The brilliant lights and the commingling of half a hundred miners and -many cowboys presented a spectacular appearance that was both novel -and interesting. Just behind them came shuffling into the room a short, -stout, heavily-built man with a scowling face covered with a short -growth of black whiskers. His eyes were small and squinty, his forehead -low and his chin protruding. - -Roderick and Grant were standing at the end of the bar, waiting for -lemonades they had ordered. Roderick's attention was attracted by the -uncouth newcomer. - -"Grant, who is that gorilla-looking chap?" he asked. - -Grant half turned with a sweeping glance and then looking back at -Roderick, replied: "That is Bud Bledsoe. He is a sort of sleuth for -Grady, the manager of the smelting plant, the man I introduced you to, -remember, the first day you came to Encampment." - -"I remember Grady all right," nodded Roderick. - -"Well, many people believe he keeps Bledsoe around him to do his dirty -work. A while ago there was a grave suspicion that this chap committed -a terrible crime, doubtless inspired by Grady, but it is not known -positively and of course Grady is all-powerful and nothing was said -about it outright." - -In the meantime Bud Bledsoe walked into the back part of the room, and -finding a vacant seat at a gaming table bought a stack of chips and -was soon busy over his cards. Presently the two friends, having lighted -fresh cigars, left the saloon. - -Grant looked into two or three other places, but finding there was -"nothing doing," no news of any kind stirring, at last turned for home. -Entering the familiar old bachelor shack, Roderick too felt at home, and -it was not long before a cheerful fire was kindled and going. Grant -was leaning an elbow on the mantel above and talking to Roderick of the -pleasure he anticipated at the coming dance over at the Shields place. - -"I wonder what Miss Barbara meant when she sent that special message to -you, Roderick? Have you a ground wire of some kind with the young lady -and are you on more intimate relations than I have been led to believe?" - -Grant smiled broadly at Roderick as he asked the question. - -"Search me," replied Roderick. "I have never spoken to her excepting in -the presence of other people." - -"I presume you know," Grant went on, "that she is the object of -Carlisle's affections and he gets awfully jealous if anyone pays court -to her?" - -"And who's Carlisle?" asked Roderick, looking up quickly. - -"Oh, he is the great lawyer," replied Grant "W. Henry Carlisle. Have -you never heard of the feud between Carlisle and Attorney Bragdon?" - -"No," said Roderick. "Both names are new to me." - -"Oh, I supposed everybody knew about their forensic battles. You see, -W. Henry Carlisle is the attorney for the Smelter and Ben Bragdon is -without doubt the most eloquent young lawyer that ever stood before a -jury in southern Wyoming. These two fellows are usually against each -other in all big lawsuits in these parts of the country, and you should -see the courthouse fill up when there is a jury trial." - -Roderick did not seem especially interested, and throwing his cigar stub -into the open fire, he filled his pipe. "Now, I'll have a real smoke," -he observed as he pressed a glowing firestick from the hearth down on -the tobacco. - -"Grady and Carlisle are together in all financial ventures," Grant -continued. - -"Don't look as if you are very fond of this man Grady," commented -Roderick. - -"Fond of him?" ejaculated Grant in disgust; "he is the most obnoxious -creature in the district. He treats everybody who is working for him -as if they were dogs. He has this bruiser, Bud Bledsoe, as a sort -of bodyguard and this W. Henry Carlisle as a legal protector, so he -attempts to walk rough shod over everybody--indifferent and insolent. -Oh, let's not talk about Grady. I become indecently indignant whenever I -think of his outrages against some of the poor fellows in this camp." - -"All right," said Roderick, jovially looking up; "let us talk about the -dance and especially Miss Dorothy." - -"That's the text," said Grant, "Dorothy--Dorothy Shields-Jones. Won't -that make a corker of a name though? If I tell you a secret will you -promise it shall be sacred?" - -"Certainly," replied Roderick. - -"Well," said Grant, reddening, "while I was over there at the _Dillon -Doublejack_ office, isolated from the world, surrounded with mountains -and snow--nothing but snow and snowbanks and high mountains in every -direction, why, I played job printer and set up some cards with a name -thereon--can't you guess?" - -"Impossible," said Roderick, smiling broadly. - -"Well, Mrs. Dorothy Shields-Jones," he repeated slowly, then laughed -uproariously at the confession. - -"Let me see one of the cards," asked Roderick. - -"Oh, no, I only kept the proof I pulled before pieing the type, and that -I have since torn up. But just wait That girl's destiny is marked out -for her," continued Grant, enthusiastically, "and believe me, Warfield, -I shall make her life a happy one." - -"Hope you've convinced her of that, old man?" - -"Convinced her! Why I haven't had the courage yet to say a word," -replied Grant, somewhat shamefacedly. "I'm going to rely on you to speak -up for me when the critical moment arrives." - -"It was rather premature, certainly, to print the lady's -double-barreled-name visiting card," laughed Roderick. "But there, you -know I'm with you and for you all the time." And he extended the hand of -brotherly comradeship. - -"And about you and Barbara?" ventured Grant, tentatively. "I've heard -your name mentioned in connection with hers several times." - -"Oh, forget all that rot," responded Roderick, flushing slightly. He had -never mentioned the "college widow" to his friend, and felt that he was -sailing under false colors. "It will be a long time before I can think -of such matters," he went on, turning toward his accustomed stretcher. -"Let's get to bed. It has been a long day, and I for one am tired." - -A few minutes later lights were out. - -When they got up next morning, they found that a letter had been pushed -under the door. Warfield picked it up and read the scrawled inscription. -It was addressed to Grant. - -"Gee," said Grant as he took the letter from Roderick, "this town is -forging ahead mighty fast. Free delivery. Who in the demnition bowwows -do you suppose could have done this?" - -Opening the envelope he spread the letter on the table, and both bent -above it to read its contents. There was just a couple of lines, in -printed characters. - -Words had been cut out of a newspaper apparently, and stuck on the white -sheet of paper. They read as follows: _"Tell your friend to let Barbara -alone or his hide will be shot full of holes."_ - -Grant and Roderick stood looking at each other, speechless with -amazement. Barbara was the only written word. - -"What can be the meaning of this?" inquired Roderick. - -"Beyond me," replied Grant. "Evidently others besides myself have come -to think you are interested in Barbara Shields. Possibly the young lady -has been saying nice things about you, and somebody is jealous." - -"Rank foolishness," exclaimed Roderick hotly. Then he laughed, as he -added: "However, if the young lady interested me before she becomes all -the more interesting now. But let the incident drop. We shall see what -we shall see." - -They walked up the street to a restaurant and breakfasted. - -"It might be," remarked Grant, referring back to the strange letter, -"that Attorney Carlisle, who they say is daffy over Barbara Shields, has -had that sleuth of Grady's, Bud Bledsoe, fix up this letter to sort of -scare you off." - -Grant laughed good-humoredly as he said this. - -"Scare me off like hell," said Roderick in disgust. "I am not easily -scared with anonymous letters. Only cowards write that sort of stuff." - -They arose from the table and turned down the street towards the -smelting plant It was necessary to keep well on the sidewalks and away -from the mud in the roadway, for the weather was turning warm and snow -was melting very fast. - -"There will be no sleighs and sleigh-bells at the Shields' -entertainment," observed Grant. "This snow in the lowlands will all be -gone in a day or two." - -They paused on a street corner and noticed five logging outfits swinging -slowly down the street, then turn into the back yard of Buell Hampton's -home and begin unloading. - -"What do you suppose Major Hampton can want with all those logs?" asked -Grant. - -"Let us make a morning call on the Major," suggested Roderick. - -"Right you are," assented Grant. - -The Major extended his usual hearty welcome. He had evidently been busy -at his writing table. - -"We came down," said Grant, "to get a job cutting wood." - -The Major looked out of the window at the great stack of logs and -smiled. "No, young gentlemen," he said, "those logs are not for firewood -but to build an addition to my humble home. You see, I have a small -kitchen curtained off in the rear, and back of that I intend putting -in an extra room. I expect to have ample use for this additional -accommodation, but just at this time perhaps will not explain its -purposes. Won't you be seated?" - -They pulled up chairs before the fire, which was smouldering low, for in -the moderated condition of the weather a larger fire was not needed. - -"Only for a moment, Major. We do not wish to take you from your work, -whatever it may be. I will confess," Grant went on, smiling, "that we -were curious to know about the logs, and decided we would look in on you -and satisfy our curiosity; and then, too, we have the pleasure of saying -hello." - -"Very kind of you, very kind, I am sure," responded the Major; and -turning to Roderick he inquired when he expected to return to the -Shields ranch. - -"I am going out this afternoon," replied Roderick. "By the way, Major, -do you expect to be at the Shields' entertainment?" - -"No, it is hardly probable. I am very busy and then, too, I am far -past the years when such functions interest. Nevertheless, I can well -understand how two young gentlemen like yourselves will thoroughly enjoy -an entertainment given by such hospitable people as the Shields." - -Soon after they took their leave and walked up the street. Grant made -arrangements to start directly after luncheon for Dillon, where copy had -to be got ready for the next issue of his paper. - -As Roderick rode slowly across the valley that afternoon, his mind dwelt -on the rich gold discovery made by Buell Hampton, and he evolved plans -for getting promptly to serious prospecting work on his own account. -Sometimes too he caught himself thinking of the strange girl of the -hills who could throw a lasso so cleanly and cleverly; he wondered if -their paths would ever cross again. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV.--THE EVENING PARTY - - -THE night of the big fiesta at the Shields ranch had arrived, and the -invited guests had gathered from far and near. And what a bevy of pretty -girls and gay young fellows they were! Even the cowboys on this occasion -were faultless Beau Brummels; chaps, belts, and other frontier regalia -were laid aside in favor of the starched shirtfront and dress clothes -of the fashionable East. The entertainment was to consist of dancing and -song, with a sumptuous supper about the midnight hour. - -Roderick of course was there--"by command" of the fair daughter of the -house, Barbara Shields. At the entrance to the reception hall the twin -sisters gave him cordial welcome, and gaily rallied him on having at -last emerged from his anchorite cell. On passing into the crowded room, -young Warfield had one of the greatest surprises of his life. - -"Hello, Roderick, old scout, how are you anyway?" - -Someone had slapped him on the shoulder, and on turning round he found -himself face to face with Whitley Adams. - -"Whitley, old man!" he gasped in sheer astonishment. - -Then followed hand-shaking such as only two old college chums can engage -in after a long separation. - -"How did it all happen?" inquired Roderick, when the first flush of -meeting was over. - -"Tell you later," said Whitley. "Gee, old man, I ought to beat you up -for not letting me know all this time where you were." - -"Well, I have been so confoundedly busy," was the half-apologetic reply. - -"And so have I myself. I am taking a post-graduate course just now in -being busy. You would never guess what a man of affairs I've come to -be." - -"You certainly surprise me," laughed Roderick drily. - -"Oh, but I'm going to take your breath away. Since you've gone, I've -become quite chummy with your Uncle Allen." - -"You don't say?" - -"Yes, siree. I think he took to me first of all in the hope that through -me he would get news of the lost prodigal--the son of his adoption whose -absence he is never tired of deploring." - -"Poor old uncle," murmured Roderick, affectionately and regretfully. - -"Oh, he takes all the blame to himself for having driven you away from -home. But here--let's get into this quiet corner, man. You haven't yet -heard half my news." - -The two chums were soon installed on a seat conveniently masked--for -other purposes, no doubt--by pot plants and flowers. - -"And how's dear Aunt Lois?" asked Roderick, as they settled themselves. - -"Oh, dear Aunt Lois can wait," replied Whitley. - -"She's all right--don't look a day older since I remember her. It is -_I_ who am the topic of importance--_I_"--and he tapped his chest in the -fervency of his egoism. - -"Well, fire away," laughed Roderick. - -Whitley rambled on: "Well, I was just going to tell you how your uncle -and I have been pulling along together fine. After stopping me in the -street two or three times to ask me whether I had yet got news of you, -he ended in offering me a position in the bank." - -"Gee whizz!" - -"Oh, don't look so demed superior. Why, man alive. I'm a born banker--a -born man of affairs! So at least your uncle tells me in the intervals of -asking after you." - -"Yes, you've certainly taken my breath away. But how come you to be in -Encampment, Whitley?" - -"On business, of course--important business, you bet, or I wouldn't have -been spared from the office. Oh, I'll tell _you_--you're a member of the -firm, or will be some day, which is all the same thing. There's a fellow -here, W. B. Grady, wanting a big loan on some smelter bonds." - -"I know the man. But I thought he was rolling in money." - -"Oh, it's just the fellows who are rolling in money who need ready money -worst," smiled the embryonic banker with a shrewd twinkle in his eyes. -"He's a big speculator on the outside, make no mistake, even though he -may be a staid and stolid business man here. Well, he needs hard cash -just at present, and the proposed loan came the way of our bank. Your -uncle jumped at it." - -"Security must be pretty good," laughed Roderick. - -"No doubt. But there's another reason this time for your uncle's -financial alacrity. Seems an old friend of his was swindled out of the -identical block of bonds offered by this same Grady, and your uncle -sees a possible chance some day of getting them out of his clutches and -restoring them to where they properly belong." - -"But all that's contrary to one of Uncle Allen's most cherished -principles--that friendship and business don't mix. I've heard him utter -that formula a score of times." - -"Well, cherished principles or no cherished principles, he seems -downright determined this time to let friendship play a hand. He tells -me--oh, I'm quite in his confidence, you see--that it's a matter of -personal pride for him to try and win back his fortune for this old -friend, General Holden--that's the name." - -"Holden?--Holden?" murmured Roderick. He seemed to have heard the name -before, but could not for the moment locate its owner. - -"Yes, General Holden. He's ranching up here for the present--or rather -his daughter is. They say she's a stunning girl, and my lawyer friend -Ben Bragdon has promised to introduce me. Oh, though I'm a man of -affairs, old chap, I've an eye for a pretty girl too, all the time. And -I'm told she's a top-notcher in the beauty line, this Gail Holden." - -"Gail Holden!" Roderick repeated the name out loud, as he started erect -in his seat. He knew who the father was now--the daughter was no other -than the mysterious rider of the range. - -Whitley's face wore a quizzical look. - -"Hello! you know her then, old chap?" - -"I never met her--at least I have never been introduced to her." - -"That's good hearing. Then we'll start level tonight. Of course I'll cut -you out in the long run if she proves to be just my style." - -"Go ahead," smiled Roderick. He had already recovered his -self-possession. "But you haven't informed me yet how you come to know -Ben Bragdon, our cleverest young lawyer here, I've been told, and likely -enough to get the Republican nomination for state senator." - -"Oh, simple enough. I've come up to investigate one technical point in -regard to those smelter bonds. Well, Ben Bragdon, your political big -gun, happens to be your uncle's legal adviser in Wyoming." - -"Which reminds me," interposed Roderick earnestly, "that you are not to -give away my whereabout, Whitley--just yet." - -"A bit rough on the old uncle not to tell him where you are--or at least -let him know that you are safe and well. He loves you dearly, Rod, my -boy." - -"And I love him--yes, I'll admit it, I love him dearly, and Aunt Lois -too. But this is a matter of personal pride, Whitley. You spoke a moment -ago of Uncle Allen's personal pride. Well, I've got mine too, and that -day of my last visit to Keokuk, when he told me that not one dollar of -his fortune would ever be mine unless I agreed to certain abominable -conditions he chose to lay down, I on my side resolved that I would show -him I could win a fortune from the world by my own unaided efforts. And -that's what I'm going to do, Whitley; make no mistake. I don't want -him to butt in and interfere in any way. I am going to play this game -absolutely alone, and luckily my name gives no clue to the lawyer Ben -Bragdon or anyone else here of my relationship with the rich banker of -Keokuk, Allen Miller." - -"Of course, Rod, whatever you say goes. But all the same there can be no -harm in my relieving your uncle's mind by at least telling him that I've -heard from you--that you are in good health, and all that sort of thing. -But you bet I won't let out where you are or what you are doing. Oh, -I'll go up in the old chap's estimation by holding on tight to such -a secret. To be absolutely immovable when it would be a breach of -confidence to be otherwise is part of a successful young banker's moral -make-up, you understand." - -Roderick laughed, his obduracy broken down by the other's gay -insistence. - -"All right, old fellow, we'll let it go at that But as to my being in -Wyoming, remember dead secrecy's the word. Shake hands on that; my faith -in such a talented and discreet young banker is implicit. But now we -must join the others or they'll be thinking us rather rude." - -"That--or the dear girls may be fretting out their hearts on my account. -A rich young banker from Iowa doesn't blow into Encampment every day, -you know." And Whitley Adams laughed with all the buoyant pride of -youth, good looks, good health, and good spirits. "Come along, dear -boy," he went on, linking his hand in Roderick's arm. "We'll find -Lawyer Bragdon, get our introductions, and start fair with the beauteous -chatelaine of the cattle range." - -Roderick had heard about Ben Bragdon from Grant Jones, but had not as -yet happened to meet the brilliant young attorney who was fast becoming -a political factor in the state of Wyoming. So it fell to the chance -visitor to the town, Whitley Adams, to make these two townsmen -acquainted. Bragdon shook Roderick's hand with all the cordiality and -geniality of a born "mixer" and far-seeing politician. But Whitley cut -out all talk and unblushingly demanded that he and his friend should be -presented without further delay to General Holden's daughter. - -They found her in company with Barbara Shields who, her duties of -receiving over, was now mingling with her guests. - -"Miss Holden, let me present you to Mr. Roderick Warfield." The -introducer was Ben Bragdon. - -"One of papa's favorite boys," added Barbara kindly, "and one of our -best riders on the range." - -"As I happen to know," said Gail Holden; and with a frank smile of -recognition she extended her hand. "We have already met in the hills." - -Roderick was blushing. "Yes," he laughed nervously. "I was stupid enough -to offer to help you with a young steer. But I didn't know then I was -addressing such a famous horsewoman and expert with the lariat." - -Gail Holden smiled, pleasedly but composedly. She possessed that -peculiar modesty of dignified reserve which challenges the respect of -men. - -"Oh, you would have no doubt done a great deal better than I did," she -replied graciously. - -But Whitley Adams had administered a kick to Roderick's heel, and was -now pushing him aside with a muttered: "You never told me you had this -flying start, you cunning dog. But it's my turn now." And he placed -himself before Miss Holden, and was duly presented by Bragdon. - -A moment later Whitley was engaging Gail in a sprightly conversation. -Roderick turned to Barbara, only to find her appropriated by Ben -Bragdon. And Barbara seemed mightily pleased with the young lawyer's -attentions--she was smiling, and her eyes were sparkling, as she -listened to some anecdote he was telling. Roderick began to feel kind of -lonesome. If there was going to be anyone "shot full of holes" because -of attentions to the fair Miss Barbara, he was evidently not the man. He -had said to Grant Jones that any association of his name with hers was -"rank foolishness," and humbly felt now the absolute truthfulness of -the remark. He began to look around for Grant--he felt he was no ladies' -man, that he was out of his element in such a gathering. There were many -strange faces; he knew only a few of those present. - -But his roving glance again lighted and lingered on Gail Holden. -Yes, she was beautiful, indeed, both in features and in figure. -Tall, willowy, stately, obviously an athlete, with a North of Ireland -suggestion in her dark fluffy hair and sapphire blue eyes and pink-rose -cheeks. He had seen her riding the range, a study in brown serge with a -big sombrero on her head, and he saw her now in the daintiest of evening -costumes, a deep collar of old lace around her fair rounded neck, a few -sprigs of lily of the valley in her corsage, a filigree silver buckle at -the belt that embraced her lissom form. And as he gazed on this beauty -of the hills, this splendid type of womanhood, there came back to him in -memory the wistful little face--yes, by comparison the somewhat worn and -faded face--of the "college widow" to whom his troth was plighted, for -whom he had been fighting and was fighting now the battle of life, the -prize of true love he was going to take back proudly to Uncle Allen -Miller along with the fortune he was to win with his own brain and -hands. - -"By gad, it's more than three weeks since Stella wrote to me," he said -to himself, angrily. Somehow he was glad to feel angry--relieved in mind -to find even a meagre pitiful excuse for the disloyal comparison that -had forced itself upon his mind. - -But at this moment the music struck up, there was a general movement, -and he found himself next to Dorothy Shields. Whitley had already sailed -away with Miss Holden. - -"Where is Grant?" asked Roderick. - -"Not yet arrived," replied Dorothy. "He warned me that he would be -late." - -"Then perhaps I may have the privilege of the first waltz, as his best -friend." - -"Or for your own sake," she laughed, as she placed her hand on his -shoulder. - -Soon they were in the mazy whirl. When the dance was ended Dorothy, -taking his arm, indicated that she wished him to meet some people -in another part of the room. After one or two introductions to young -ladies, she turned to a rather heavy set, affable-looking gentleman and -said: "Mr. Warfield, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Carlisle--Mr. -Carlisle, Mr. Warfield." - -The men shook hands and looked into each other's eyes. Roderick -remembered this was the attorney of the smelting plant, and Carlisle -remembered this was the young gentleman of whom the Shields sisters -had so often spoken in complimentary terms. W. Henry Carlisle was a man -perhaps forty years old. He was not only learned in the law, but one -could not talk with him long without knowing he was purposeful and -determined and in any sort of a contest worthy of his foeman's steel. - -Later Roderick danced with Barbara, and when he had handed her over to -the next claimant on her card was again accosted by Ben Bragdon. He had -liked the young attorney from the first, and together they retired for a -cigarette in the smoking room. - -"I saw you were introduced to that fellow Carlisle," began Bragdon. - -"Yes," replied Roderick, smiling, for he already knew of the -professional feud between the two men. - -"Well, let me say something to you," Bragdon continued. "You look to me -like a man that is worth while, and I take the opportunity of telling -you to let him alone. Carlisle is no good. Outside of law business -and the law courts I would not speak to him if he were the last man on -earth." - -"Why," said Roderick, "you are pronounced in your views to say the -least." - -Bragdon turned to Roderick and for a moment was silent. Then he asked: -"What are you, a Republican or a Democrat?" - -"Why, I am a Republican." - -"Shake," said Bragdon, and they clasped hands without Roderick hardly -understanding why. "Let me tell you something else," Bragdon went on. -"Carlisle claims to be a Republican but I believe he is a Democrat. He -don't look like a Republican to me. He looks like a regular secessionist -Democrat and there is going to be a contest this fall for the nomination -for state senator. W B. Grady and the whole smelting outfit are going to -back this man Carlisle and I am going to beat him. And say--old man--" -he smiled at Roderick when he said this and slapped him on the shoulder -familiarly--"I want you on my side." - -"Well," said Roderick, half embarrassed and hesitatingly, "I guess I am -getting into politics pretty lively among other things. I don't see at -this moment why I should not be on your side." - -"Well, come and see me at my office over at Encampment and we will talk -this matter over." And so it was agreed. - -Just then they heard singing, so they threw their cigarettes away and -went back to the ballroom. A quartet of voices accompanied on the piano -by Gail Holden were giving a selection from the Bohemian Girl. Whitley -Adams was hovering near Miss Holden, and insisted on turning the music -At the close of the number Whitley requested that Mr. Warfield should -sing. Everyone joined in the invitation; it was a surprise to his -western friends that he was musical. Reluctantly Roderick complied, -and proving himself possessed of a splendid baritone voice, delighted -everyone by singing "Forgotten" and one or two other old-time melodies. -Among many others, Dorothy, Barbara, and Grant Jones, who had now put in -an appearance, overwhelmed him with congratulations. Gail Holden, -too, who had been his accompanist, quietly but none the less warmly, -complimented him. - -Then Gail herself was prevailed upon to sing. As she resumed her seat at -the piano, she glanced at Roderick. - -"Do you know 'The Rosary'?" she asked in a low voice unheard by the -others. - -"One of my favorites," he answered. - -"Then will you help me with a second?" she added, as she spread open the -sheet of music. - -"I'll be honored," he responded, taking his place by her side. - -Her rich contralto voice swelled forth like the sweeping fullness of a -distant church organ, and Roderick softly and sweetly blended his -tones with hers. Under the player's magic touch the piano with its deep -resonant chords added to the perfect harmony of the two voices. The -interpretation was wonderful; the listeners were spellbound, and there -followed an interval of tense stillness after the last whispered notes -had died away. - -As Gail rose and stood before him, she looked into Roderick's eyes. Her -cheeks were flushed, she was enveloped in the mystery of song, carried -away by music's subtle power. Roderick too was exalted. - -"Superb," he murmured ecstatically. - -"Thanks to you," she replied in a low voice and with a little bow. - -Then the buzz of congratulations was all around them. During that brief -moment, even in the crowded ballroom they had been alone--soul had -spoken to soul. But now the tension was relaxed. Gail was laughing -merrily. Whitley Adams was punching Roderick in the ribs. - -"Say, old man, that's taking another mean advantage." - -"What do you mean?" asked Roderick, recovering his composure. - -"Singing duets like that isn't toeing the line. The start was to be -a fair one, but you're laps ahead already." Whitley was looking with -comical dolefulness in the direction of Gail Holden. - -"Oh, I catch your drift," laughed Roderick. "Well, you brought the -trouble on yourself, my boy. It was you who gave me away by declaring I -could sing." - -"Which shows the folly of paying a false compliment," retorted Whitley. -"However, I'm going to get another dance anyhow." - -He made a step toward Gail, but Roderick laid a detaining hand on his -shoulder. - -"Not just yet; the next is mine." And with audacity that amazed himself -Roderick advanced to Gail, bowed, and offered his arm. The soft strains -of a dreamy waltz had just begun. - -Without a word she accepted his invitation, and together they floated -away among the maze of dancers. - -"Well, that's going some," murmured Whitley, as he glanced around in -quest of consolation. Dorothy Shields appeared to be monopolized by -Grant Jones, but the two lawyers, Eragdon and Carlisle, were glowering -at each other, as if in defiance as to which should carry off Barbara. -So Whitley solved the problem by sailing in and appropriating her for -himself. He was happy, she seemed pleased, and the rivals, turning away -from each other, had the cold consolation that neither had profited by -the other's momentary hesitation. - -After the first few rounds Roderick opened a conversation with his -partner. He felicitated her upon her playing and singing. She thanked -him and said: "Most heartily can I return the compliment." He bowed his -acknowledgment. - -"You must come to Conchshell ranch and call on my father. He will be -glad to meet you--has been an invalid all the winter, but I'm thankful -he is better now." - -"I'll be honored and delighted to make his acquaintance," replied -Roderick. - -"Then perhaps we can have some more singing together," she went on. - -"Which will be a great pleasure to me," he interjected fervently. - -"And to me," she said, smiling. - -Whether listening or speaking there was something infinitely charming -about Gail Holden. When conversing her beautiful teeth reminded one of a -cupid's mouth full of pearls. - -"It has been some time," explained Roderick, "since I was over your -way." - -For a moment their eyes met and she mischievously replied; - -"Oh, yes. Next time, I'll not only sing for you, but if you wish I will -teach you how to throw the lariat." - -"I don't presume," replied Roderick banteringly, "you will guarantee -what I might catch even if I turned out to be an expert?" - -"That," Gail quickly rejoined, "rests entirely with your own -cleverness." - -Just then it was announced from the dining room that the tables with the -evening collation were spread, and as Roderick was about to offer his -arm to Miss Holden, Barbara came hurriedly up, flushed and saying: "Oh, -Gail, here is Mr. Carlisle who wants to take you to supper. And Mr. -Warfield, you are to escort me." She smiled triumphantly up into his -face as she took his arm. - -As they walked away together and Barbara was vivaciously talking to him, -he wondered what it all meant Everybody seemed to be playing at cross -purposes. Again he thought of the letter of warning pushed under Grant -Jones' door and mentally speculated how it would all end. - - - - - - -CHAPTER XV.--BRONCHO-BUSTING - - -IT WAS the morning following the big entertainment at the Shields ranch -when Roderick and two other cowboy companions began the work of breaking -some outlaw horses to the saddle. The corral where they were confined -was a quarter of a mile away from the bunk house. - -Grant Jones had remained overnight, ostensibly to pay Roderick a visit -during the succeeding day. He was still sound asleep when Roderick arose -at an early hour and started for the corral. Whitley Adams had also been -detained at the ranch house as a guest. He had invited himself to the -broncho-busting spectacle, and was waiting on the veranda for Roderick -as the latter strolled by. - -An unbroken horse may or may not be an outlaw. If he takes kindly to -the bridle and saddle and, after the first flush of scared excitement -is over with, settles down and becomes bridle-wise then he is not an -outlaw. On the other hand when put to the test if he begins to rear -up--thump down on his forefeet--buck and twist like a corkscrew and -continues jumping sideways and up and down, bucking and rearing until -possibly he falls over backward, endangering the life of his rider and -continues in this ungovernable fashion until finally he is given up -as unbreakable, why, then the horse is an outlaw. He feels that he has -conquered man, and the next attempt to break him to the saddle will be -fraught with still greater viciousness. - -Bull-dogging a wild Texas steer is nothing compared with the skill -necessary to conquer an outlaw pony. - -Nearly all cowboy riders, take to broncho-busting naturally and -good-naturedly, and they usually find an especial delight in assuring -the Easterner that they have never found anything that wears hair they -cannot ride. Of course, this is more or less of a cowboy expression and -possibly borders on vanity. However, as a class, they are not usually -inclined to boast. - -Very excellent progress had been made in the work of breaking the -bronchos to the saddle. It was along about eleven o'clock when Roderick -had just made his last mount upon what seemed to be one of the most -docile ponies in the corral. He was a three-year-old and had been given -the name of Firefly. The wranglers or helpers had no sooner loosened the -blindfold than Roderick realized he was on the hurricane deck of a pony -that would probably give him trouble. When Firefly felt the weight of -Roderick upon his back, apparently he was stunned to such an extent -that he was filled with indecision as to what he should do and began -trembling and settling as if he might go to his knees. Roderick touched -his flank with a sharp spur and then, with all the suddenness of a -flash of lightning from a clear sky, rider and horse became the agitated -center of a whirling cloud of dust. The horse seemingly would stop just -long enough in his corkscrew whirls to jump high in the air and light -on his forefeet with his head nearly on the ground and then with -instantaneous quickness rear almost upright Whitley Adams was terribly -scared at the scene. The struggle lasted perhaps a couple of minutes, -and then Roderick was whirled over the head of the pony and with a -shrill neigh Firefly dashed across the corral and leaping broke through -a six foot fence and galloped away over the open prairie. The two -wranglers and Whitley hastened to Roderick's side. He had been stunned -but only temporarily and not seriously injured, as it proved. - -"Oh, that's all right," he said presently as he rubbed his eyes. - -"Are you hurt?" Whitley inquired. Roderick slowly rose to his feet with -Whitley's assistance and stretching himself looked about as if a bit -dazed. "No, no," he replied, "I am not hurt but that infernal horse has -my riding saddle." - -"You had better learn to ride a rocking horse before trying to ride -an outlaw, Warfield," said Scotty Meisch, one of the new cowpunchers, -sneeringly. - -Roderick whirled on him. "I'll take you on for a contest most any day, -if you think you are so good and I am so poor as all that," he said. -"Come on, what do you say?" - -"Well, I ride in the Frontier Day's celebration that comes on in July at -our local fair," the cowboy said. "Guess if you want to ride in a real -contest with me you'd better enter your name and we'll see how long you -last." - -"Very well, I'll just do that for once and show you a little something -about real roughriding," said Roderick; "and Firefly will be one of the -outlaws." - -Turning he limped off towards the bunk house with Whitley. - -Whitley was greatly relieved that Roderick, although he had wrenched -the tendons of his leg, had no broken bones. A couple of other cowboys -mounted their ponies, and with lariats started off across the prairie to -capture the outlaw and bring back the saddle. Whitley was assured that -they were breaking horses all the time and now and then the boys got -hold of an outlaw but no one was ever very seriously injured. - -Reaching the lounging room of the bunk house, they learned that Grant -was up and dressed. He had evidently gone up to the ranch house and at -that very moment was doubtless basking in the smiles of Miss Dorothy. - -The college chums, pipes alight, soon got to talking of old times. - -"By the way," remarked Whitley between puffs, "last month I was back at -the class reunion at Galesburg and called on Stella Rain." - -Roderick reddened and Whitley went blandly on: "Mighty fine girl--I mean -Stella. Finest college widow ever. I did not know you were the lucky -dog, though?" - -"What do you mean by my being the lucky dog?" - -"Oh, you were always smitten in that quarter--everyone knew that. And -now those tell-tale flushes on your face, together with what Stella -said, makes it all clear. Congratulations, old man," said Whitley, -laughing good-naturedly at Roderick's discomfiture. - -As their hands met, Roderick said: "I don't know, old chap, whether -congratulations are in order or not. She don't write as often as she -used to. It don't argue very well for me." - -"Man alive," said Whitley, "what do you want with a college widow or a -battalion of college widows when you are among such girls as you have -out here? Great Scott, don't you realize that these girls are the -greatest ever? Grant Jones shows his good sense; he seems to have roped -Miss Dorothy for sure. At first I thought I had your measure last night, -when you were talking to Miss Barbara Shields--for the moment I had -forgotten about Stella. Then you switched off and cut me out with the -fair singer. Say, if somebody don't capture Miss Gail Holden--" - -He paused, puffed awhile, then resumed meditatively: "Why, old man, down -in Keokuk Gail Holden wouldn't last a month. Someone would pick her up -in a jiffy." - -"Provided," said Roderick, and looked steadily at Whitley. - -"Oh, yes, of course, provided he could win her." - -"These western girls, I judge," said Roderick slowly--"understand I am -not speaking from experience--are pretty hard to win. There is a freedom -in the very atmosphere of the West that thrills a fellow's nerves -and suggests the widest sort of independence. And our range girls are -pronouncedly independent, unless I have them sized up wrong. Tell me," -he continued, "how you feel about Miss Holden?" - -"Oh," replied Whitley, "I knew ahead that she was a stunning girl, and -after that first waltz I felt withered all in a heap. But when I saw and -heard you singing together at the piano, I realized what was bound to -come. Oh, you needn't blush so furiously. You've got to forget a certain -party down at Galesburg. As for me, I've got to fly at humbler game. -Guess I'll have another look around." - -He laughed somewhat wistfully, as he rose and knocked the ashes from the -bowl of his pipe. - -Roderick had not interrupted; he was becoming accustomed to others -deciding for him his matrimonial affairs. He was musing over the -complications that seemed to be crowding into his life. - -"You see I retire from the contest," Whitley went on, his smile -broadening, "and I hope you'll recognize the devoted loyalty of a -friend. But now those Shields girls--one or other of them--both are -equally charming." - -"You can't cut Grant Jones out," interrupted Roderick firmly. "Remember, -next to yourself, he's my dearest friend." - -"Oh, well, there's Miss Barbara left. Now don't you think I would be -quite irresistible as compared with either of those lawyer fellows?" He -drew himself up admiringly. - -"You might be liable to get your hide shot full of holes," replied -Roderick. - -"What do you mean?" - -But Roderick did not explain his enigmatic utterance. - -"I think I'll have a lay-down," he said, "and rest my stiff bones." -He got up; he said nothing to Whitley, but the bruised leg pained him -considerably. - -"All right," replied Whitley gaily. "Then I'll do a little further -reconnoitering up at the ranch house. So long." - -Warfield was glad to be alone. Apart from the pain he was suffering, -he wanted to think things over. He was not blind to the truth that -Gail Holden had brought a new interest into his life. Yet he was half -saddened by the thought that almost a month had gone by without a letter -from Stella Rain. Then Whitley's coming had brought back memories of -Uncle Allen, Aunt Lois, and the old days at Keokuk. He was feeling very -homesick--utterly tired of the rough cow-punching existence he had been -leading for over six months. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI.--THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE NIGHT - - -IN A day or two the excitement over the great evening party at the -Shields ranch had passed and the humdrum duties of everyday life had -been resumed. Whitley Adams had completed his business at Encampment and -taken his departure with the solemnly renewed promise to Roderick that -for the present the latter's whereabouts would not be disclosed to the -good folks at Keokuk although their anxiety as to his safety and good -health would be relieved. Grant Jones had torn himself away from -his beloved to resume his eternal--and as he felt at the moment -infernal--task of getting out the next issue of his weekly newspaper. -Gail Holden had ridden off over the foothills, the Shields sisters had -returned to their domestic duties, and all the other beauties of the -ballroom had scattered far and wide like thistledown in a breeze. The -cowboys had reverted to chaps and sombreros, dress clothes had been -stowed away with moth balls to keep them company, and the language of -superlative politeness had lapsed back into the terser vernacular of the -stock corral. Roderick was pretty well alone all day in the bunk -house, nursing the stiff leg that had resulted from the broncho-busting -episode. - -Between embrocations he was doing a little figuring and stock-taking of -ways and means. During his six months on the ranch most of his salary -had been saved. The accumulated amount would enable him to clear off -one-half of his remaining indebtedness in New York and leave him a -matter of a hundred dollars for some prospecting on his own account -during the summer months among the hills. But he would stay by his -job for yet another month or two, because, although the words had been -spoken in the heat of the moment, he had pledged himself to meet -the cowboy Scotty Meisch in the riding contest at the Frontier Day's -celebration. Yes, he would stick to that promise, he mused as he rubbed -in the liniment Gail Holden, when she had come to bid him good-by -and express her condolence over his accident, had announced her own -intention of entering for the lariat throwing competition, but he would -never have admitted to himself that the chance of meeting her again -in such circumstances, the chance of restoring his prestige as a -broncho-buster before her very eyes, had the slightest thing to do with -his resolve to delay his start in systematic quest of the lost mine. - -Meanwhile Buell Hampton seemed to have withdrawn himself from the world. -During the two weeks that had intervened between the invitation and the -dance, he had not called at the ranch. Nor did he come now during the -weeks that followed, and one evening when Grant Jones paid a visit to -the Major's home he found the door locked. Grant surveyed with both -surprise and curiosity the addition that had been made to the building. -It was a solid structure of logs, showing neither door nor window to the -outside, and evidently was only reached through the big living room. - -He reported the matter to Roderick, but the latter, his stiff leg now -all right again, was too busy among the cattle on the ranges to bother -about other things. - -But Buell Hampton all this time had been very active indeed. During the -winter months he had thought out his plans. Somehow he had come to look -upon the hidden valley with its storehouse of golden wealth as a sacred -place not to be trespassed on by the common human drove. Just so soon as -the melting snows rendered the journey practicable, he had returned all -alone to the sequestered nook nested in the mountains. He had discovered -that quite a little herd of deer had found shelter and subsistence there -during the months of winter. As he came among them, they had shown, -themselves quite tame and fearless; three or four does had nibbled the -fresh spring grass almost at his very feet as he had sat on the porphyry -dyke, enjoying the beautiful scene, alone in his little kingdom, with -only these gentle creatures and the twittering birds for companions. - -And there and then Buell Hampton had resolved that he would not -desecrate this sanctuary of nature--that he would not bring in the -brutal eager throng of gold seekers, changing the lovely little valley -into a scene of sordid greed and ugliness, its wild flowers crushed -underfoot, its pellucid stream turned to sludge, its rightful -inhabitants, the gentle-eyed deer, butchered for riotous gluttony. -No, never! He would take the rich God-given gift of gold that was his, -gratefully and for the ulterior purpose of spreading human happiness. -But all else he would leave undisturbed. - -The gold-bearing porphyry dyke stretching across the narrow valley was -decomposed; it required no drilling nor blasting; its bulk could easily -be broken by aid of sledge hammer and crowbar. Two or three men working -steadily for two or three months could remove the entire dyke as it lay -visible between mountain rock wall and mountain rock wall, and taking -the assay value of the ore as already ascertained, from this operation -alone there was wealth for all interested beyond the dreams of avarice. -Buell Hampton debated the issues all through that afternoon of solitude -spent in the little canyon. And when he regained his home he had arrived -at a fixed resolution. He would win the treasure but he would save the -valley--he would keep it a hidden valley still. - -Next evening he had Tom Sun, Boney Earnest and Jim Rankin all assembled -in secret conclave. While the aid of Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield -would be called in later on, for the present their services would not be -required. So for the present likewise there would be nothing more said -to them--the fewer in the "know" the safer for all concerned. - -It was agreed that Tom Sun, Jim Rankin and the Major would bring out -the ore. Jim was to hire a substitute to drive his stage, while Tom Sun -would temporarily hand over the care of his flocks to his manager and -herders. Boney Earnest could not leave his work at the smelter--his -duties there were so responsible that any sudden withdrawal might have -stopped operations entirely and so caused the publicity all were anxious -to avoid. But as he did not go to the plant on Sundays, his active help -would be available each Saturday night. Thus the plans were laid. - -But although Buell Hampton had allied himself with these helpers in his -work and participants in the spoil, he yet guarded from them the -exact locality of his find. All this was strictly in accordance with -goldmining usage among the mountains of Wyoming, so the Major offered no -apology for his precautions, his associates asked for or expected none. -Each man agreed that he would go blindfolded to the spot where the rich -ore was to be broken and packed for removal. - -Thus had it come about that, while Buell Hampton seemed to have -disappeared from the world, all the while he was very busy indeed, -and great things were in progress. Actual work had commenced some days -before the dance at the Shields' home, and it continued steadily in the -following routine. - -The Major, Tom Sun and Jim Rankin passed most of the day sleeping. At -night after dark, they would sally forth into the hills, mounted on -three horses with three pack burros. A few miles away from Encampment -the Major would blindfold his two assistants, and then they would -proceed in silence. When they arrived near Spirit Falls the horses and -burros would be tethered and Major Hampton would lead the way down the -embankment to the river's bank, then turn to the left, while Tom Sun, -blindfolded, extended one hand on Buell Hampton's shoulder and still -behind was Jim Rankin with his hand extended on Tom Sun's shoulder. Thus -they would make their way to a point back of the waterfall, and then -some considerable distance into the mountain cavern where the blindfolds -were removed. With an electric torch the Major lighted the way through -the grotto into the open valley. - -A little farther on was the dyke of porphyry, quartz and gold. Here the -sacks would be filled with the rich ore--their loads all that each man -could carry. Footsteps were then retraced with the same precautions as -before. - -Placing the ore sacks on the backs of their burros, the night riders -would climb into their saddles and slowly start out on the return -journey, the Major driving the burros ahead along a mountain path, while -Tom Sun and Jim Rankin's horses followed. After they had gone on for a -few miles Major Hampton would shout back to his assistants to remove the -blindfolds, and thus they would return to the town of Encampment in -the gray dawn of morning, unloading their burros at the door of Major -Hampton's house. Jim Rankin would take charge of the stock and put them -in a stable and corral he had prepared down near the banks of the Platte -River just over the hill. Tom Sun would show his early training by -preparing a breakfast of ham and eggs and steaming coffee while the -Major was placing the ore in one hundred pound sacks and carrying them -back into the blockade addition he had built to his home. He would then -lock the heavy door connecting the storehouse with the living room. - -Usually the breakfast was ready by the time the Major had finished his -part of the work and Jim Rankin had returned. After the morning meal and -a smoke, these three mysterious workers of the night would lie down -to sleep, only to repeat the trip the following evening. Each Saturday -night, as has been explained, Boney Earnest was added to the party, as -well as an extra horse and burro. - -Buell Hampton estimated that each burro was bringing out one hundred -pounds nightly, or about three hundred pounds every trip for the three -burros, with an extra hundred pounds on Saturday night. If this ore -yielded $114.00 per pound, the assay value already paid him, or call it -$100.00, it meant that he was adding to his storehouse of treasure about -$220,000.00 as the result of each week's labors. Thus in three months' -time there would be not far short of $3,000,-000.00 worth of high grade -gold ores accumulated. If reduced to tons this would make nearly a full -carload when the time came for moving the vast wealth to the railroad. - -One night in the midst of these operations, when Jim Rankin and Tom Sun -supposed they were on the point of starting on the usual trip into the -hidden valley, Buell Hampton filled his pipe for an extra smoke and -invited his two faithful friends to do likewise. "We are not going -tonight," said he. "We will have a rest and hold a conference." - -"Good," said Jim Rankin. "Speakin' wide open like, by gunnies, my old -bones are gettin' to be pretty dangnation sore." - -"Too bad about you," said Tom Sun. "Too bad that you aren't as young as -I am, Jim." - -"Young, the devil," returned Jim. "I'm prognosticatin' I have pints -about me that'd loco you any time good and plenty. 'Sides you know you -are seven years older than me. Gosh 'lmighty, Tom, you an' me have been -together ever since we struck this here country mor'n forty years ago." - -Tom laughed and the Major laughed. - -It was arranged that when the carload was ready Jim Rankin was to rig -up three four-horse teams and Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would be -called on to accompany the whole outfit to Walcott, the nearest town -on the Union Pacific, where a car would be engaged in advance for the -shipment of the ore to one of the big smelters at Denver. The strictest -secrecy would be kept even then, for reasons of safety as well as to -preserve the privacy desired by Buell Hampton. So they would load up the -wagons at night and start for the railroad about three o'clock in the -morning. - -Thus as they smoked and yawned during their night of rest the three men -discussed and decided every detail of these future plans. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII--A TROUT FISHING EPISODE - - -FOR a time Roderick had hung back from accepting the invitation to call -at the Conchshell ranch, as the Holden place was called. In pursuing -the acquaintanceship with Gail he knew that he was playing with fire--a -delightful game but one that might work sad havoc with his future peace -of mind. However, one day when he had an afternoon off and had ridden -into Encampment again to be disappointed in finding no letter from -Stella, he had felt just the necessary touch of irritation toward his -fiance that spurred him on to seek some diversion from his thoughts of -being badly treated and neglected. Certainly, he would call on General -Holden--he did not say to himself that he was bent on seeing Gail again, -looking into her beautiful eyes, hearing her sing, perhaps joining in a -song. - -He was mounted on his favorite riding horse Badger, a fine bay pony, and -had followed the road up the North Fork of the Encampment River a number -of miles. Taking a turn to the left through the timbered country with -rocky crags towering on either side in loftiest grandeur, he soon -reached the beautiful plateau where Gail Holden's home was located. The -little ranch contained some three hundred acres, and cupped inward like -a saucer, with a mountain stream traversing from the southerly to the -northerly edge, where the Conchshell canyon gashed through the rim of -the plateau and permitted the waters to escape and flow onward and away -into the North Fork. - -As Roderick approached the house, which was on a knoll planted with -splendid firs and pines, he heard Gail singing "Robert Adair." He -dismounted and hitched his horse under the shelter of a wide spreading -oak. Just as he came up the steps to the broad porch Gail happened to -see him through one of the windows. She ceased her singing and hastened -to meet him with friendly greeting. - -"Welcome, Mr. Warfield, thrice welcome, as Papa sometimes says," said -Gail, smiling. - -"Thank you," said Roderick, gallantly. "I was riding in this direction -and concluded to stop in and accept your kind invitation to meet the -General." - -"He will be delighted to see you, Mr. Warfield, I have told him about -your singing." - -"Oh, that was making too much of my poor efforts." - -"Not at all. You see my father is very fond of music--never played nor -sang in his life, but has always taken keen delight in hearing good -music. And I tell you he is quite a judge." - -"Which makes me quite determined then not to sing in his presence," -laughed Roderick. - -"Well, you can't get out of it now you're here. He won't allow it. Nor -will I. You won't refuse to sing for me, will you? Or with me?" she -added with a winning smile. - -"That would be hard indeed to refuse," he replied, happy yet -half-reproaching himself for his very happiness. - -"Daddie is walking around the grounds somewhere at present," continued -Gail. "Won't you step inside and rest, Mr. Warfield? He'll turn up -presently." - -"Oh, this old rustic seat here on the porch looks exceedingly -comfortable. And I fancy that is your accustomed rocker," he added, -pointing to a piece of embroidery, with silk and needles, slung over the -arm of a chair. - -"You are a regular Sherlock Holmes," she laughed. "Well, I have been -stitching all the afternoon, and just broke off my work for a song." - -"I heard you. Can't you be persuaded to continue?" - -"Not at present. We'll wait till Papa comes. And the weather is so -delightfully warm that I will take my accustomed rocker--and the hint -implied as well." - -Again she laughed gaily as she dropped into the commodious chair and -picked up the little square of linen with its half-completed embroidery. - -Roderick took the rustic seat and gazed admiringly over the cup-shaped -lands that spread out before him like a scroll, with their background of -lofty mountains. - -"You have a delightful view from here," he said. - -"Yes," replied Gail, as she threaded one of her needles with a strand of -crimson. "I know of no other half so beautiful. And it has come to be a -very haven of peace and happiness. Perhaps you know that my father last -year lost everything he possessed in the world through an unfortunate -speculation. But that was nothing--we lost my dear mother then as well. -This little ranch of Conchshell was the one thing left that we could -call our own, and here we found our refuge and our consolation." - -She was speaking very softly, her hands had dropped on her lap, there -was the glisten of tears in her eyes. Roderick was seeing the daring -rider of the hills, the acknowledged belle of the ballroom in yet -another light, and was lost in admiration. - -"Very sad," he murmured, in conventional commiseration. - -"Oh, no, not sad," she replied brightly, looking up, sunshine showing -through her tears. "Dear mother is at rest after her long illness, -father has recovered his health in this glorious mountain air, and I -have gained a serious occupation in life. Oh, I just love this miniature -cattle range," she went on enthusiastically. "Look at it"--she swept -the landscape with an upraised hand. "Don't all my sweet Jerseys and -Hainaults dotted over those meadows look like the little animals in a -Noah's ark we used to play with when children?" - -"They do indeed," concurred Roderick, with heartily responsive -enthusiasm. - -"And I'm going to make this dairy stock business pay to beat the band," -she added, her face fairly aglow. "Just give me another year or two." - -"You certainly deserve success," affirmed Roderick, emphatically. - -"Oh, I don't know. But I do try so hard." - -Her beautiful face had sweet wistfulness in it now. Roderick was -admiring its swift expressive changes--he was saying to himself that he -could read the soul of this splendidly frank young woman like a book. He -felt thrilled and exalted. - -"But here comes Papa," exclaimed Gail, springing delightedly to her feet - -Roderick's spirits dropped like a plummet. At such an interesting -psychological moment he could have wished the old General far enough. - -But there was a pleasant smile on his face as Gail presented him, -genuine admiration in the responsive pressure of his hand as he gazed -into the veteran's handsome countenance and thanked him for his cordial -welcome. - -"Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield," General Holden was saying. "My friend -Shields has spoken mighty well of you, and Gail here says you have the -finest baritone voice in all Wyoming." - -"Oh, Daddie!" cried Gail, in blushing confusion. - -"Well, I'm going to decide for myself. Come right in. We'll have a song -while Gail makes us a cup of tea. An old soldier's song for a start--she -won't be listening, so I can suit myself this time." - -And Roderick to his bewilderment found himself clutched by the arm, and -being led indoors to the piano like a lamb to the slaughter. Gail had -disappeared, and he was actually warbling "Marching through Georgia," -aided by a thunderous chorus from the General. - -"As we go marching through Georgia," echoed Gail, when at the close of -the song she advanced from the domestic quarters with sprightly military -step, carrying high aloft a tea tray laden with dainty china and -gleaming silverware. - -All laughed heartily, and a delightful afternoon was initiated--tea and -cake, solos and duets, intervals of pleasant conversation, a Schubert -sonata by Gail, and a rendition by Roderick of the Soldiers' Chorus from -Faust that fairly won the old General's heart. - -The hours had sped like a dream, and it was in the sunset glow that -Roderick, having declined a pressing invitation to stay for dinner, -was bidding Gail good-by. She had stepped down from the veranda and was -standing by his horse admiring it and patting its silky coat. - -"By the way, you mentioned at the Shields' party that you expected to go -trout fishing, Mr. Warfield. Did you have good luck?" - -Roderick confessed that as yet he had not treated himself to a day's -sport with the finny tribe. "I was thinking about it this very -morning," he went on, "and was wondering if I had not better secure a -companion--someone skilled with rod and reel and fly to go with me, as I -am a novice." - -"Oh, I'll go with you," she exclaimed quickly. "Would be glad to do so." - -"That's mighty kind of you, Miss Holden," replied Roderick, half -hesitatingly, while a smile played about his handsome face. "But since -you put it that way I would be less than courteous if I did not eagerly -and enthusiastically accept. When shall we go?" - -"You name the day," said Gail. - -Roderick leaned hastily forward and placing one hand on his heart said -with finely assumed gallantry: "I name the day?" - -"Oh, you know quite well I do not mean that." - -She laughed gaily, but all the same a little blush had stolen into her -cheeks. - -"I thought it was the fair lady's privilege to name the day," said -Roderick, mischievously. - -"Very well," said Gail, soberly, "we will go trout fishing tomorrow." - -"It is settled," said Roderick. "What hour is your pleasure?" - -"Well, it is better," replied Gail, "to go early in the morning or late -in the evening. Personally I prefer the morning." - -"Very well, I will be here and saddle Fleetfoot for you, say, at seven -tomorrow morning." - -And so it was agreed. - -It was only when he was cantering along the roadway toward home that -Roderick remembered how Barbara Shields had on several occasions invited -him to go trout fishing with her, but in some way circumstances had -always intervened to postpone the expedition. In Gail's case, however, -every obstacle seemed to have been swept aside--he had never even -thought of asking Mr. Shields for the morning off. However, that would -be easily arranged, so he rode on in blissful contentment and happy -anticipation for the morrow. - -The next morning at the appointed time found him at Conchshell ranch. -Before he reached the house he discovered Fleetfoot saddled and bridled -standing at the gate. - -Gail came down the walk as he approached and a cheery good-morning was -followed by their at once mounting their horses and following a roadway -that led eastward to the South Fork of the Encampment River. - -"You brought your flies, Mr. Warfield?" - -"Oh, yes," replied Roderick. "I have plenty of flies--both hackle and -coachman. These have been specially recommended to me, but as I warned -you last night I am a novice and don't know much about them." - -"I sometimes use the coachman," said Gail, "although, like yourself, I -am not very well up on the entomology of fly fishing." - -Soon the road led them away from the open valley into a heavy timber -that crowned the westerly slope of the river. They soon arrived at -their destination. Dismounting they quickly tethered their horses. -Gail unfastened her hip boots from back of her saddle, and soon her -bifurcated bloomer skirts were tucked away in the great rubber boots and -duly strapped about her slender waist. Roderick was similarly equipped -with wading boots, and after rods, lines and flies had been carefully -adjusted they turned to the river. The mountains with their lofty rocky -ledges--the swift running waters rippling and gurgling over the rocky -bed of the river--the beautiful forests that rose up on either side, of -pine and spruce and cottonwood, the occasional whistle and whirr of wild -birds--the balmy morning air filled life to overflowing for these two -disciples of Izaak Walton bent upon filling their baskets with brook and -rainbow trout. - -"The stream is sufficiently wide," observed Gail, "so we can go -downstream together. You go well toward the west bank and I will hug the -east bank." Roderick laughed. - -"What are you laughing at?" asked Gail. - -"Oh, I was just sorry I am not the east bank." The exhilarating mountain -air had given him unwonted audacity. - -"You are a foolish fellow," said Gail--"at least sometimes. Usually I -think you are awfully nice." - -"Do you think we had better fish," asked Roderick, whimsically, "or talk -this matter over?" - -Gail looked very demure and very determined. - -"You go right on with your fishing and do as I do, Mr. Roderick -Warfield. Remember, I'm the teacher." She stamped her little booted -foot, and then waded into the water and cast her fly far down stream. -"See how I cast my line." - -"You know a whole lot about fishing, don't you?" asked Roderick. - -"Oh, yes, I ought to. During occasional summer visits to the ranch I -have fished in these waters ever so many times. You must not talk too -much," she added in a lower voice. "Trout are very alert, you know." - - "If fish could hear as well as see - - Never a fish would there be-- - -in our baskets." And she laughed softly at this admonition for Roderick -to fish and cease badinage. - -"Which way is the wind?" asked Roderick. - -"There is none," replied Gail. - - "When the wind is from the North - - The skilful fisherman goes not forth," - -quoted Roderick. "Don't that prove I know something about fishing--I -mean fly fishing?" - -"You have a much better way to prove your sport-manship," insisted Gail. -"The fish are all around you and your basket is hanging empty from your -shoulder." - -"Rebuked and chided," exclaimed Roderick, softly. - -They continued to cast and finally Gail said: "I have a Marlow Buzz on -my hook." - -"What is that?" inquired Roderick. - -"Oh, it is a species of the Brown Palmer fly. I like them better than -the hackle although the coachman may be equally as good. Look out!" she -suddenly exclaimed. - -Roderick turned round quickly and saw her line was taut, cutting the -water sharply to the right and to the left while her rod was bent like a -bow. She quickly loosened her reel which hummed like a song of happiness -while her line sliced the waters like a knife. - -"Guess you have a rainbow," cried Roderick excitedly, but Gail paid no -attention to his remark. - -Presently the trout leaped from the water and fell back again, then -attempted to dart away; but the slack of line was not sufficient for the -captive to break from the hook. - -The trout finally ceased its fight, and a moment later was lifted safely -from the water and landed in Gail's net. But even now it continued -to prove itself a veritable circus performer, giving an exhibition of -flopping, somersaulting, reversed handsprings--if a fish could do such -things--with astonishing rapidity. - -"Bravo," shouted Roderick, as Gail finally released the hook and -deposited the fish in her basket. - -Less than a minute later Roderick with all the enthusiasm and zeal -imaginable was letting out his reel and holding his line taut, for -he, too, had been rewarded. And soon he had proudly deposited his first -catch of the day in his fish basket. - -On they went down the river, over riffles and into deep pools where -the water came well up above their knees; but, nothing daunted, these -fishermen kept going until the sun was well up in the eastern sky. At -last Gail halloed and said: "Say, Mr. Warfield, my basket is almost full -and I am getting hungry." - -"All right," said Roderick, "we will retrace our steps. There is a -pretty good path along the east bank." - -"How many have you?" asked Gail. - -"Twenty-six," replied Roderick as he scrambled up the bank. - -"I have thirty-one," said Gail, enthusiastically. - -Roderick approached the bank, and reaching down helped her to a footing -on the well-beaten path. Then they started up-stream for their horses. - -It was almost eleven o'clock when they arrived at their point of -departure and had removed their wading boots. Gail went to her saddle -and unlashed a little luncheon basket. - -She utilized a large tree stump for a table, and after it had been -covered with a napkin and the dainty luncheon of boned chicken, sardines -and crackers had been set forth, she called to Roderick and asked him to -fill a pair of silver collapsible drinking cups which she handed to him. -He went to the brook and returned with the ice-cold mountain vintage. - -"I am just hungry enough," said Gail, "to enjoy this luncheon although -it is not a very sumptuous repast." - -Roderick smiled as he took a seat upon the felled tree. - -"Expect you think you will inveigle me into agreeing with you. But not -on your life. I would enjoy such a luncheon as this any time, even if I -were not hungry. But in the present circumstances--well, I will let you -pass judgment upon my appetite after we have eaten." - -"As they say on the long army marches in the books," said Gail, gaily, -"I guess we had better fall to." And forthwith with much merriment and -satisfaction over their morning's catch they proceeded to dispose of the -comestibles. - -It was only a little after noon when they reached the Conchshell ranch, -and soon thereafter Roderick's pony was galloping along the road on his -homeward way. He had never enjoyed such a morning in all his life. - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII.--A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE FRONTIER - - -THERE was great excitement among the bunch of cowboys on the Shields' -ranch when the local newspapers came out with startling headlines and -full announcements in regard to the annual frontier celebration. That -night every line of the full page advertisements, also the columns of -editorial elaborations on the contests and other events, were read aloud -to an eager assemblage of all hands in front of the bunk house. - -The _Dillon Doublejack_ predicted that this year's celebration would -undoubtedly afford the greatest Wild West show ever witnessed outside -of a regular circus display organized as a money-making undertaking. -Everything was going to be just the real thing--the miners' drilling -contest, the roping competition, the bucking-broncho features, and so -on. More than a score of outlaw horses that had thrown every cow-puncher -who ever attempted to ride them had already been engaged. The -_Doublejack_ further declared that the tournament would be both for -glory and for bags of yellow gold, with World's Championships to the -best rider, to the best bucking broncho buster, to the best trick roper, -to the fastest cowpony, and to the most daring and lucky participant in -the bull-dogging of wild steers. - -In the columns of the Encampment _Herald_ special attention was drawn -to the fact that in the rough riding and outlaw bucking contest for the -world's championship there was a purse of $1,000 to be divided--$450 for -first prize, $300 second prize, $150 third prize and $100 fourth prize, -while in addition Buck Henry, the banker, offered a $200 championship -saddle to the rider who took first place. It was also announced that the -fair association would pay $50 in cash for every horse brought to the -grounds that was sufficiently unmanageable to throw every rider; each -participant to ride any horse and as often as the judges might deem -necessary to determine the winner; chaps and spurs to be worn by the -riders, and leather pulling would disqualify. - -Both papers referred to the band concerts as a feature of great interest -throughout the three days of the fair. Everything was to be decorated -in colors--red and green, black and yellow, blue and white, pink and -scarlet--from the grandstand down to the peanut boy. The race track was -fast and in excellent condition, and everything would be in readiness at -the appointed time. - -After each item of news was read out there was a buzz of comment among -the assembled cowboys, challenges were made, bets freely offered and -accepted. As the gathering dispersed Roderick Warfield and Scotty -Meisch exchanged significant glances but spoke no word--they had been as -strangers to each other ever since their fierce quarrel on the morning -of the broncho-busting exercises. Roderick was glad that the day was -near at hand when the fellow would be made to eat his words. And with -the thought also came thoughts of Gail Holden. Gee, but it would be fine -to see her ride in such a contest of nerve and skill! - -At last the eventful morning dawned and the people swarmed into -Encampment from all the surrounding country. They came from far below -Saratoga to the north. The entire Platte Valley from as far south as the -Colorado state line and beyond were on hand. In fact, from all over -the state and even beyond its confines the whole population moved in to -participate in this great frontier day celebration. A crowd came over -from Steamboat Springs and brought with them the famous outlaw horse -Steamboat, who had never been ridden although he had thrown at least a -dozen cowpunchers of highest renown. - -When the programmes were distributed, Firefly was found upon the list of -outlaw horses, and also to the surprise of many of his friends the name -of Roderick Warfield appeared as one of the contestants in both the -bull-dogging and bucking broncho events. - -It was a veritable Mecca of delight for the miners in their drilling -contests and for the cowboys in their dare-devil riding of outlaw -horses--testing their prowess and skill in conquering the seemingly -unconquerable. The lassoing of fleet-footed and angry cattle, the -bull-dogging of wild steers gathered up from different parts of the -country because of their reputation for long horns and viciousness, were -spectacles to challenge the admiration of the immense throng seated in -the grandstand and on the bleachers. - -It was just ten o'clock on the morning of the first day when the judges -sounded the gong and started the series of contests. The first event was -a cow-pony race, with no restriction as to the sex of the riders. -Ponies were to be fourteen hands two inches or under. There were seven -starters. Up in one corner of the grandstand sat Grant Jones surrounded -by a bevy of beautiful girls. Among them of course was Dorothy Shields. -All were in a flutter of excitement over the race that was about to be -run; for Gail Holden was among the contestants. - -Gail Holden, quiet, unassuming, yet full of determination, looked -a veritable queen as she sat her pony Fleetfoot clad in soft silk -shirtwaist, gray divided skirt, and gray soft felt hat. With a tremor of -delight Roderick noticed that she wore on her sleeve as her colors one -of his college arm-bands, which he had given her when calling at the -Conchshell ranch one evening after the trout fishing expedition. - -At last the bell sounded and the word "Go" was given. A shout went up -from the grandstand--"They're off--they're off." And away the seven -horses dashed---four men and three lady riders. At the moment of -starting Gail had flung her hat to the winds. She used no quirt but held -her pony free to the right and in the open. It was a half-mile track and -the race was for one mile. When they swept down past the grandstand on -the first lap Fleetfoot had gained third place. A pandemonium of shouts -went up as the friends of each madly yelled to the riders to urge their -mounts to greater speed. At the far turn it was noticed that Fleetfoot -was running almost neck and neck with the two leaders, and then as they -came up the stretch, running low, it seemed as if the race would finish -in a dead heat between all three ponies. - -Just then Gail reached down and was seen to pat her pony upon the neck -and evidently was talking to him. Fleetfoot leaned forward as if fired -with fierce determination to comply with her request for still greater -effort His muscles seemed to be retensioned. He began creeping away inch -by inch from his adversaries, and amid the plaudits and shouts of the -people in the grandstand and bleachers, who rose to their feet waving -handkerchiefs and hats in a frenzy of tumultuous approval, Gail's horse -passed first under the wire--winner by a short head, was the judges' -verdict. - -The second feature was a great drilling contest of the miners from the -surrounding hills. There were twelve pairs of contestants, and Grant -Jones became wild with excitement when friends of his from Dillon were -awarded the championship. - -And thus event followed event until the day's program was completed. - -Gail and Roderick were bidding each other goodnight at the gateway of -the enclosure. - -"I owe you my very special thanks," he said as he held her hand. - -"What for?" she enquired. - -"For wearing my old college arm-band in the pony race." - -"Oh," said Gail, blushing slightly, "I had to have something to keep -my sleeve from coming down too far on my wrist Besides they are pretty -colors, aren't they?" - -But Roderick was not going to be sidetracked by any such naive -questioning. - -"I refuse pointblank," he answered, smiling, "to accept any excuse for -your wearing the badge. I insist it was a compliment to me and shall -interpret it in no other way." - -Her blush deepened, but she made no further protest. General Holden had -approached. She turned and took his arm. - -"Until tomorrow then," exclaimed Roderick, raising his hat to both -father and daughter. - -"Until tomorrow," she quietly responded. - -The morrow brought resumption of the tournament. Gail Holden was to -display her prowess in throwing the lariat, while Roderick had entered -his name in the bull-dogging event. - -In the roping contest Gail was the only lady contestant. The steers -were given a hundred feet of start, and then the ropers, swinging their -lariats, started after them in a mad gallop. - -Gail was again mounted on Fleet foot, and if anything ever looked like -attempting an impossibility it was for this slender girl with her neatly -gloved little hands, holding a lariat in the right and the reins of the -pony in her left, to endeavor to conquer and hogtie a three-year-old -steer on the run. And yet, undismayed she undertook to accomplish -this very thing. When the word was given she dashed after the fleeing -three-year-old, and then as if by magic the lariat sprang away from -her in a graceful curve and fell cleverly over the horns of the steer. -Immediately Fleetfoot set himself for the shock he well knew was coming. - -The steer's momentum was so suddenly arrested that it was thrown to the -ground. Gail sprang from the saddle, and the trained pony as he backed -away kept the lariat taut. Thus was the steer hogtied by Gail's slender -hands in 55 3/5 seconds from the time the word was given. - -All of the lassoers had been more or less successful, but the crowd -stood up and yelled in wildest enthusiasm, and waved their hats and -handkerchiefs, as the time for this marvelous feat by Gail was announced -from the judges' stand. - -In the afternoon the bull-dogging contest was reached, and Grant Jones -said to those about him: "Now get ready for some thrills and breathless -moments." - -When the word was given a wild long-horned steer came rushing down past -the grandstand closely followed by a cowboy on his fleet and nimble -pony. In the corral were perhaps a score of steers and there was -a cowboy rider ready for each of them. Four or five steers were -bull-dogged one after the other. Some had been quickly thrown to the -ground by the athletic cowboys amid the plaudits of the onlookers. But -one had proven too strong for the skill and quickness of his adversary, -and after rather severely injuring the intrepid youthful gladiator -rushed madly on down the race track. - -Presently Roderick Warfield came into view astride his favorite pony, -Badger, riding at full tilt down the race course, chasing a huge -cream-colored steer with wide-spread horns, cruelly sharp and -dangerous-looking. As horse and steer came abreast Roderick's athletic -form swayed in his saddle for a moment, and then like a flash he was -seen to leap on to the steer's back and reaching forward grab the -animal's horns. An instant later he had swung his muscular body to -the ground in front of his sharp homed adversary and brought him to an -abrupt halt. - -Gail Holden's face grew pale as she watched the scene from among a group -of her girl friends on the grandstand. - -The object of the bull-dogging contest is to twist the neck of the steer -and throw him to the ground. But Roderick accomplished more. The steer -lifted him once from the ground, and the great throng of people on -the grandstand and bleachers, also the hundreds who had been unable to -obtain seating accommodation and were standing along the rails, held -their breath in bated silence. The powerful cream-colored steer threw -his head up, and lifting Roderick's feet from their anchorage started on -a mad run. But when he lowered his head a moment later Roderick's feet -caught the earth again, and the steer was brought to a standstill. Then -the milling back and forth began. Roderick's toes sank deep into the -sand that covered the race track; the muscles of his neck stood out in -knots. Finally, with one heroic twist on the long horns as a pry over -a fulcrum, he accomplished the feat of combined strength and endurance, -and the intense silence of the great throng was broken by a report -like the shot of a pistol as the bull-dogged steer fell heavily to the -earth--dead. The animal's neck was broken. - -There are very few cases on record where a steer's neck has been -broken in bull-dogging contests. Roderick therefore had gained a rare -distinction. But technically he had done too much, for the judges were -compelled to withhold from him the honors of the championship because in -killing the animal he had violated the humane laws of the state, which -they were pledged to observe throughout the series of contests. But this -did not affect the tumult of applause that acclaimed his victory over -the huge and vicious-looking steer. Afterwards when his friends gathered -around him in wonderment at his having entered for such an event he -confessed that for several weeks he had been practicing bull-dogging out -on the range, preparing for this contest. - -In the afternoon of the last day, the finals of the bucking-broncho -competition were announced from the grandstand. There were only three -contestants remaining out of the score or more of original entries, and -Roderick Warfield was among the number. Scotty Meisch was there--the -cowboy whom Roderick had challenged--also Bud Bledsoe, the bodyguard -and sleuth of W. B. Grady. Three of the unconquered outlaws were brought -out--each attended by two wranglers; the names of the horses were put -in a hat and each cowboy drew for his mount. Roderick Warfield drew Gin -Fizz, Bud Bledsoe drew Steamboat and Scotty Meisch drew Firefly. And in -a few moments the wranglers were busy. - -Three horses and six wranglers working on them at the same time! It was -a sight that stirred the blood with expectation. These horses had been -successful in throwing the riders who had previously attempted to subdue -them. The outlaws were recognized by the throng even before their names -were called from the grandstand. - -The method of the game is this: One wrangler approaches the horse while -the other holds taut the lariat that has been thrown over his neck; and -if the freehanded wrangler is quick enough or lucky enough he seizes -the horse by the ears and throws his whole weight on the animal's head, -which is then promptly decorated with a hackamore knotted bridle. A -hackamore is a sort of a halter, but it is made of the toughest kind of -rawhide and so tied that a knot presses disastrously against the lower -jaw of the horse. After being haltered the outlaw is blindfolded with a -gunnysack. To accomplish all this is a dangerous struggle between horse -and the wranglers. Then the word "Saddle" is shouted, and the saddles -are quickly adjusted to the backs of these untamed denizens of the wild. -It takes considerable time to accomplish all this and have the girths -tightened to the satisfaction of the wranglers first and of the rider -last. Invariably the rider is the court of final resort in determining -that the outlaw is in readiness to be mounted. - -At last the moments of tense expectancy were ended. It was seen that one -of the outlaws was ready, and at a call from the judges' stand, Scotty -Meisch the first rough-rider leaped on to the back of his untamed horse. - -The "Ki-yi" yell was given--the blindfold slipped from Firefly's eyes, -and the rowels of the rider sunk into the flanks of his horse. Bucking -and plunging, wheeling and whirling, all the time the rider not daring -to "pull leather" and so disqualify himself under the rules, the outlaw -once again proved himself a veritable demon. In just two minutes after -the struggle began Scotty Meisch measured his length on the ground and -Firefly was dashing for the open. The scene had been a thrilling one. -Roderick noticed that Scotty had to be helped off the track, but he -felt no concern--the rough-rider parted from his mount in a hurry may be -temporarily dazed but is seldom seriously hurt. - -Steamboat was the next horse. Bud Bledsoe was wont to brag there was -nothing wore hair that he could not ride. But Steamboat, when he felt -the weight of a rider on his back, was as usual possessed of a devil. -But Bledsoe was not the man to conquer the noted outlaw, and down he -went in prompt and inglorious defeat. - -Gin Fizz was a magnificent specimen of horseflesh--black as midnight -with a coat of hair that shone like velvet. His proud head was held high -in air. He stood like a statue while blindfolded and Roderick Warfield -was making ready to mount. - -The vast assemblage in the grandstand held their breath in amazement and -wondered what would become of the rider of the giant black. - -Then Roderick quickly mounted, and men and women rose to their feet to -see the terribleness of it all. Roderick sent his spurs deep into the -flanks of the black and plied the quirt in a desperate effort quickly to -master and subdue the outlaw. - -The horse reared and plunged with lightning quickness, and at times was -the center of a whirlwind of dust in his determined zig-zag efforts -to dislodge his rider. He rose straight up on his hind legs and for -a moment it looked as if he were going to fall over backwards. Then -seemingly rising still higher in air from his back feet he leaped -forward and downward, striking his front feet into the earth as if he -would break the saddle girth and certainly pitch the rider over his -head. He squatted, jumped, corkscrewed and sun-fished, leaped forward; -then he stopped suddenly and in demoniacal anger, as if determined not -to be conquered, he threw his head far around endeavoring to bite his -assailant's legs. But at last the horse's exertions wore him down and he -seemed to be reluctantly realizing that he had found his master. In the -end, after a terrible fight lasting fully seven minutes, he quieted down -in submission, and Gin Fizz thus acknowledged Roderick's supremacy. -He was subdued. Roderick drew rein, patted him kindly, dismounted and -turned him over to the wranglers. Gin Fizz was no longer an outlaw; he -suffered himself to be led away, trembling in every limb but submissive -as a well-trained cow-pony. - -Approaching the judges' stand, Roderick received a tremendous ovation -both from the onlookers and from his brother cowboys. The championship -ribbon was pinned to his breast, and now he was shaking hands -promiscuously with friends, acquaintances and strangers. But all the -while his eyes were roaming around in search of Gail Holden. - -At last he was out of the crowd, in a quiet corner, with Grant Jones, the -Shields sisters, and a few intimates. - -"Where is Miss Holden?" he enquired of Barbara. - -"Oh, she took poor Scotty Meisch to the hospital in an automobile. She -insisted on going." - -"He's not badly hurt, is he?" he asked drily. - -"Oh, no. Just shaken up a lot. He'll be all right in a week's time, Dr. -Burke says." - -"Then Gail--I mean Miss Holden--didn't see Gin Fizz broken?" - -"No. But she'll hear about it all right," exclaimed Barbara -enthusiastically. "My word, it was great!" And she shook his hand again. - -But the day of triumph had ended in disappointment for Roderick -Warfield. He slipped away, saddened and crestfallen. - -"It was all for her I did it"--the thought kept hammering at his brain. -"And she never even stopped to see. I suppose she's busy now bathing -the forehead of that contemptible little runt in the hospital. Stella -wouldn't have turned me down like that." - -And he found himself thinking affectionately and longingly of the little -"college widow." He hadn't been to the post office for three days. The -belated letter might have arrived at last. He would go and see at all -events; and to drown thought he whistled "The Merry Widow" waltz as he -grimly stalked along. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX.--A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE WIDOW - - -YES, there was a letter from Stella Rain. Roderick took it eagerly from -the hands of the clerk at the general delivery window. A good number of -people were already crowding into the post office from the fair grounds. -But he was too hungry for news to wait for quieter surroundings. So -he turned to a vacant corner in the waiting room and ripped open the -envelope. The letter was as follows: - -"Roderick:-- - -"I am sure that what I am about to tell you will be for your good as -well as my own. It seems so long ago since we were betrothed. At that -time you were only a boy and I freely confess I liked you very, very -much. I had known you during your four years in college and you were -always just splendid. But Roderick, a real love affair has come into -my life--something different from all other experiences, and when you -receive this letter I shall be Mrs. Vance Albertrum Carter. - -"Mr. Carter, financially, is able to give me a splendid home. He is a -fine fellow and I know you would like him. Let me be to you the same as -to the other boys of old Knox--your friend, the 'college widow.' - -"Very sincerely, - -"Stella Rain." - -Not a muscle of his face quivered as he read the letter, but at -its close he dropped both hands to his side in an attitude of utter -dejection. The blow had fallen so unexpectedly; he felt crushed and -grieved, and at the same time humiliated. But in an instant he had -recovered his outward composure. He thrust the letter into his pocket, -and shouldered his way through the throng at the doorway. He had left -Badger in a stall at the fair grounds. Thither he bent his steps, taking -a side street to avoid the crowd streaming into the town. The grandstand -and surrounding buildings were already deserted. He quickly adjusted -saddle and bridle, and threw himself on the pony's back. - -"'She knows I would like him,'" he muttered, as he gained the race -track, the scene of his recent triumphs, its turf torn and dented with -the hoofs of struggling steers and horses, thronged but an hour before -with a wildly excited multitude but now silent and void. "'Like him'!" -he reiterated bitterly. "Yes--like hell." - -And with the words he set his steed at the farther rail. Badger skimmed -over it like a deer and Roderick galloped on across country, making for -the hills. - -That night he did not return to the bunk house. - -It was high noon next day when he showed up at the ranch. He went -straight to Mr. Shields' office, gave in his resignation, and took his -pay check. No explanations were required--Mr. Shields had known for a -considerable time that Roderick was leaving. He thanked him cordially -for his past services, congratulated him on his championship honors at -the frontier celebration, and bade him come to the ranch home at any -time as a welcome guest. Roderick excused himself from saying good-by -for the present to the ladies; he was going to stay for a while in -Encampment with his friend Grant Jones, and would ride out for an -evening visit before very long. Then he packed his belongings at the -bunk house, left word with one of the helpers for trunk and valise to -be carted into town, and rode away. Badger was Roderick's own personal -property; he had purchased the pony some months before from Mr. Shields, -and as he leaped on its back after closing the last boundary gate he -patted the animal's neck fondly and proudly. Badger alone was well worth -many months of hard and oftentimes distasteful work, a horse at all -events could be faithful, he and his good little pony would never -part--such was the burden of his thoughts as he left the Shields ranch -and the cowboy life behind him. - -Grant Jones was in Encampment, and jumped up from his writing table when -Roderick threw open the door of the shack and walked in. - -"Hello, old man, this is indeed a welcome visit. Where in the wide world -have you been?" - -He turned Roderick around so the light would fall upon his face as he -extended his hand in warmest welcome, and noticed he was haggard and -pale. - -"Oh," said Roderick, "I have been up in the hills fighting it out alone, -sleeping under the stars and thinking matters over." - -"What does this all mean, anyway, old man? I don't understand you," said -Grant with much solicitude. - -"Well, guess you better forget it then," said Roderick half abruptly. -"But I owe you an apology for going away so unceremoniously from the -frontier gathering. I know we had arranged to dine together last night -But I just cleared out--that's all. Please do not ask me any questions, -Grant, as to why and wherefore. If in the future I should take you into -my confidence that will be time enough." - -"All right, old man," said Grant, "here is my hand. And know now and for -all time it don't make a derned bit of difference what has happened, I -am on your side to the finish, whether it is a desperate case of petty -larceny or only plain murder." - -Grant laughed and tried to rouse his friend into hilarity. - -"It is neither," replied Roderick laconically. "All the same I've got -some news for you. I have quit my job." - -"At the Shields ranch?" cried Grant in astonishment. "Surely there's -been no trouble there?" - -"Oh, no, we are all the best of friends. I am just tired of -cow-punching, and have other plans in view. Besides, remember the letter -we got pushed under the door here on the occasion of my last visit. -Perhaps I may be a bit skeered about having my hide shot full of holes, -eh, old man?" Roderick was now laughing. - -But Grant looked grave. He eyed his comrade tentatively. - -"Stuff and nonsense. The lunatic who wrote that letter was barking up -the wrong tree. He mistook you for the other fellow. You were never -seriously smitten in that quarter, now were you, Rod, old man?" - -"Certainly not. Barbara Shields is a fine girl, but I never even -dreamed of making love to her. I didn't come to Wyoming to chase after a -millionaire's daughter," he added bitterly. - -"Oh, that's Barbara's misfortune not her fault," laughed Grant. "But -I was afraid you had fallen in love with her, just as I fell head over -heels in love with Dorothy--for her own sake, dear boy, and not for -anything that may ever come to her from her father." - -"You were afraid, do you say?" quizzed Roderick. "Have you Mormonistic -tendencies then? Do you grudge a twin to the man you always call your -best friend?" - -"Oh, you know there's no thought like that in my mind," protested Grant. -"But you came on to the field too late. You see Ben Bragdon was already -almost half engaged." - -"So that's the other fellow, is it?" laughed Roderick. "Oh, now I begin -to understand. Then things have come to a crisis between Barbara and -Bragdon." - -"Well, this is in strict confidence, Rod. But it is true. That's why -I was a bit nervous just now on your account--I kind of felt I had to -break bad news." - -"Oh, don't you worry on my account. Understand once and for all that I'm -not a marrying man." - -"Well, we'll see about that later on," replied Grant, smiling. "But I -should have been real glad had you been the man to win Barbara Shields. -How jolly happy we would have been, all four together." - -"Things are best just as they are," said Roderick sternly. "I wouldn't -exchange Badger, my horse out there, for any woman in the world. Which -reminds me, Grant, that I've come here to stay with you for a while. -Guess I can put Badger in the barn." - -"Sure--you are always welcome; I don't have to say that. But remember -that Barbara-Bragdon matter is a dead secret. Dorothy just whispered it -to me in strictest confidence. Hard lines that, for the editor of such -an enterprising newspaper as the _Dillon Doublejack_. But the engagement -is not to be announced until the Republican nomination for state senator -is put through. You know, of course, that Ben Bragdon has consented to -run against Carlisle and the smelter interests." - -"I'm glad to hear it And now we have an additional reason to put our -shoulders to the wheel. We've got to send Ben Bragdon to Cheyenne for -Barbara's sake. Count me in politics from this day on, old man. You see -I am out of a job. This will be something worth while--to help down that -blood-sucker Grady, and at the same time secure Bragdon's election." - -"Ben Bragdon is the best man for Wyoming." - -"I know it. Put me on his committee right away." - -"You'll be a tower of strength," exclaimed Grant enthusiastically. "The -champion broncho-buster of the world--just think of that." - -Roderick laughed loud and long. This special qualification for political -work mightily amused him. - -"Oh, don't laugh," Grant remonstrated, in all seriousness. "You are a -man of note now in the community, make no mistake. You can swing the -vote of every cow-puncher in the land. You are their hero--their local -Teddy Roosevelt." - -Again Roderick was convulsed. - -"And by the way," continued Grant, "I never had the chance to -congratulate you on that magnificent piece of work on Gin Fizz. It was -the greatest ever." - -"Oh, we'll let all that slide." - -"No, siree. Wait till you read my column description of the immortal -combat in the _Doublejack._" He turned to his writing desk, and picked -up a kodak print. "Here's your photograph--snapped by Gail Holden on the -morning of the event, riding your favorite pony Badger. Oh, I've got -all the details; the half-tone has already been made. The _Encampment -Herald_ boys have been chasing around all day for a picture, but I'm -glad you were in hiding. The _Doublejack_ will scoop them proper this -time." - -But Roderick was no longer listening. The name of Gail Holden had sent -his thoughts far away. - -"How's Scotty Meisch?" he asked--rather inconsequentially as the -enthusiastic editor thought. - -"Oh, Scotty Meisch? He's all right. Slight concussion of the brain--will -be out of the hospital in about two weeks. But Miss Holden, as it turned -out, did the lad a mighty good turn in rushing him to the hospital He -was unconscious when they got there. She knew more than Doc Burke--or -saw more; or else the Doc could not deny himself the excitement of -seeing you tackle Gin Fizz. But there's no selfishness in Grail Holden's -make-up--not one little streak." - -In a flash Roderick Warfield saw everything under a new light, and a -great glow of happiness stole into his heart. It was not indifference -for him that had made Gail Holden miss the outlaw contest. What a fool -he had been to get such a notion into his head. - -"Guess I'll go and feed Badger," he said, as he turned away abruptly and -left the room. - -"When you come back I've a lot more to talk about," shouted Grant, -resuming his seat and making a grab for his lead-pencil. - -But it was several hours before Roderick returned. He had baited the -pony, watched him feed, and just drowsed away the afternoon among the -fragrant bales of hay--drowsing without sleeping, chewing a straw and -thinking all the time. - -At last he strolled in upon the still busy scribe. Grant threw down his -pencil. - -"Thought you had slipped away again to the hills and the starlight and -all that sort of thing. I'm as hungry as a hunter. Let's go down town -and eat." - -"I'm with you," assented Roderick. "But after dinner I want to see Major -Buell Hampton. Is he likely to be at home?" - -"It was about Buell Hampton I was going to speak to you. Oh, you don't -know the news." Grant was hopping around in great excitement, changing -his jacket, whisking the new coat vigorously. "But there, I am pledged -again to secrecy--Good God, what a life for a newspaper man to lead, -bottled up all the time!" - -"Then when am I to be enlightened?" - -"He sent for me this morning and I spent an hour with him. He -also wanted you, but you were not to be found. He wants to see you -immediately. Tonight will be the very time, for he said he would be at -home." - -"That's all right, Grant. But, say, old fellow, I want half an hour -first with the Major--all alone." - -"Mystery after mystery," fairly shouted the distracted editor. "Can't -you give me at least this last news item for publication? I'm losing -scoops all the time." - -"I'm afraid you must go scoopless once again," grinned Roderick. "But -after dinner you can do a little news-hunting on your own account around -the saloons, then join me later on at the Major's. That suit you?" - -"Oh, I suppose I've got to submit," replied Grant, as he drew on his now -well-brushed coat. "But all through dinner, I'll have you guessing, old -man. You cannot imagine the story Buell Hampton's going to tell you. Oh, -you needn't question me. I'm ironclad--bomb-proof--as silent as a clam." - -Roderick laughed at the mixed metaphors, and arm in arm the friends -started for their favorite restaurant. - - - - -CHAPTER XX.--THE STORE OF GOLD - - -A COUPLE of hours later Roderick arrived at Buell Hampton's home. The -Major was alone; there were no signs of Jim Rankin or Tom Sun; no traces -of the recent midnight toil. The room looked just the same as on the -occasion of Roderick's last visit, now more than two months ago, except -for a curtain hanging across one wall. - -Buell Hampton was seated before the great fireplace and notwithstanding -the season of the year had a small bed of coals burning. - -"It takes the chill away, for one thing," he explained after greeting -his visitor, "and then it gives me the inspiration of real live embers -into which to look and dream. There are so many poor people in the -world, so much suffering and so many heartaches, that one hardly knows -where to begin." - -"Well, Major," said Roderick, "I am glad to find you in this mood. I'm -one of the sufferers--or at least have been. I have come to you for -some heartache balm. Oh, I'm not jesting. Really I came here tonight -determined to give you my confidence--to ask your advice as to my future -plans." - -"I am extremely glad you feel toward me like that, my lad," exclaimed -Buell Hampton, grasping Roderick's arm and looking kindly into his eyes. -"I have always felt some subtle bond of sympathy between us. I have -wanted to help you at the outset of a promising career in every way I -can. I count it a privilege to be called in to comfort or to counsel, -and you will know later that I have something more for you than mere -words of advice." - -"Well, it is your advice I want most badly now, Major. In the first -place I have thrown up my job with Mr. Shields." - -"Tired of cow-punching?" nodded Buell Hampton with a smile. "I knew that -was coming." - -"In the second place I want to be perfectly candid with you. I have a -prospecting venture in view." - -"That I have guessed from several hints you have dropped from time to -time." - -"Well, you spoke a while ago about your reserving some little interest -for me in your great gold discovery. That was mighty kind, and rest -assured I appreciate your goodness to one who only a few months ago was -a stranger to you." - -"You forget that I am a reader of character--that no kindred souls are -strangers even at a first meeting, my son." - -Buell Hampton spoke very softly but very clearly; his gaze rested -fixedly on Roderick; the latter felt a thrill run through him--yes, -assuredly, this great and good man had been his friend from the first -moment they had clasped hands. - -"You were very good then, Major," he replied, "in judging me so kindly. -But I am afraid that I evoked your special sympathy and interest because -of the confidences I gave you at one of our early meetings. You will not -have forgotten how I spoke in a most sacred way about certain matters in -Galesburg and what I intended to do when I had sufficient money to carry -out my plans." - -"I remember distinctly," said the Major. "Your frank confidence greatly -pleased me. Well, has anything happened?" - -"There is just one man on earth I will show this letter to, and you, -Major, are the man." - -Saying this Roderick handed over Stella Rain's letter. - -After the Major had carefully perused it and put it back in the -envelope, he reached across to Roderick. - -"No," said Roderick, "don't give that letter back to me. Kindly lay it -on the red coals and let me see it burn to gray ashes. I have fought -this thing out all alone up in the hills, and I am now almost glad that -letter came, since it had to be. But let it vanish now in the flames, -just as I am going to put Stella Rain forever out of my thoughts. -Yesterday the receipt of this letter was an event; but from now on I -shall endeavor to regard it as only an incident." - -Silently and musingly the Major complied with Roderick's request and -consigned the letter to the glowing embers. When the last trace had -disappeared, he looked up at Roderick. - -"I will take one exception to your remarks," he said. "Do not think -unkindly of Stella Rain, nor even attempt to put her out of your -thoughts. Her influence over you has been all for good during the past -months, and she has shown herself a very fine and noble woman in the -gentle manner in which she has broken the bonds that had tied you--bonds -impulsively and all too lightly assumed on your part, as she knew quite -well from the beginning. I have a profound admiration for your little -'college widow,' Roderick, and hold her in high esteem." - -There was just the suspicion of tears in Roderick's eyes--a lump in -his throat which rendered it impossible for him to reply. Yes; all -bitterness, all sense of humiliation, were now gone. He too was thinking -mighty kindly of sweet and gentle Stella Rain. - -"Remember," continued the Major quietly, "you told me how she warned -you that some other day another girl, the real girl, would come along. I -guess that has happened now." - -Roderick started; there was a protesting flush upon his cheek. - -"Even though you may not yet fully realize it," quietly added the Major. - -"What do you mean?" faltered Roderick; the flush of offended dignity had -now turned into the blush of confusion. - -The Major smiled benignantly. - -"Oh, my young friend, remember again that I read men's minds and hearts -just a little. There must be some new influence in your life." - -"How do you know that--how can you say that?" - -Buell Hampton laid a hand on the young man's shoulder and smiled. - -"Because otherwise you would be still up among the hills alone, young -man. Your fight in the wilderness would have lasted for forty days--not -for a single night. The fever of love does not die down so suddenly -without an antidote. The resignation you have shown while we burned that -letter is not merely a negative condition of mind. There is something -positive as well." - -"Oh, I can't admit that," protested Roderick. "Or at least I dare not -allow myself to think like that," he corrected himself hurriedly. - -"Well, we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile all is well. The rich -harvest of experience has been reaped; the fertile soil awaits the next -tillage. The important moment of every life is 'The Now.' And this is -what we have to think about tonight, Roderick." - -"Precisely, Major. And that is just why I opened the conversation. As I -said at the outset, you assigned me an interest in your gold mine for a -specific object that no longer exists." - -"On the contrary," replied Buell Hampton, "I assigned it on general -principles--on the general principle of helping a worthy young man at -the critical period of starting into useful life-work. But I may tell -you also," he laughed lightly, "that I had in my mind's eye valuable and -important future services whereby the interest would be paid for most -adequately." - -"And these services are what?" asked Roderick, with a delighted gleam in -his eyes. - -"We'll come to that presently. Where is Grant Jones?" - -"He was to follow me here in half an hour. Time's almost up, unless he's -on the trail of a newspaper scoop." Roderick was smiling happily now. - -"Well, we shall await his coming. What do you say to a little music to -beguile the time?" - -The Major glanced at his violin resting on a side table. - -"Nothing would give me greater pleasure," responded Roderick, jumping up -with alacrity and handing to the master his old Cremona. - -"I am glad you like music," said Buell Hampton, as he began to tighten -his bow. "Its rhythmic cadences of tone are a language universal. Its -power is unseen but felt, captivating and enthralling alike the cultured -and the untutored. The harmony of tone enwraps the soul like a mantle. -It influences heart and intellect It may depress in saddest tears or -elevate to highest ecstasy. Music is the melody of the Gods. It is like -an ethereal mist--a soft and dainty distillation of a thousand aromatic -perfumes, inspiring and wholesome to the soul as the morning dew is to -buds and blossoms." - -As he spoke he had been gently thrumming the strings, and now he placed -the violin to his chin. Soft and plaintive melodies alternating with -wild and warring airs followed one after the other until the entire room -seemed to be quivering with melody. For fully an hour, unconscious of -the passing time, the Major entertained his guest, and concluded with -a rapid surging theme as if it were a call to battle and for greater -achievements. - -Grant Jones had not yet arrived. Roderick recovered from the trance into -which the music had thrown him. He thanked the Major for the pleasure he -had given, then threw a glance at the doorway. - -"Where the deuce can he be?" he murmured. - -But at the very moment the door opened, and in walked the belated -editor. - -"Where have you been all this time?" asked Roderick, half petulantly. - -"On the porch of course," replied Grant. "Do you think I was going to -interrupt such divine melody?" - -Buell Hampton smiled pleasedly while he laid down the violin on the -table. - -"Well," he said, "be seated, Grant, my boy. I am going to lose no -further time. I have some figures to work on tonight. This is my first -night at home, Roderick, for many weeks. Grant already knows the story. -Now I shall tell it to you." - -And straightway the Major related how Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney -Earnest had garnered the midnight harvests of gold. Then he drew aside -the curtain hanging on the wall, unlocked the stout door which it -concealed, and, to Roderick's amazement, displayed the piled up sacks of -golden ore. - -"All quite equal to the rich samples you handled here several months -ago," said Buell Hampton, as he waved his hand toward the accumulated -treasure. - -"Great Csar!" gasped Roderick. "There must be hundreds of thousands of -dollars there." - -"The total will run into millions, young man," smiled the Major. Then -he closed the door, relocked it, and dropped the curtain. But he did not -resume his seat. - -"Now this is where your services, and those of Grant Jones will come in. -This great wealth must be safely transported to Denver. And as I have -already explained to you tonight, I still want to guard jealously my -secret of the Hidden Valley on whose resources I may or may not draw -again--this the future must decide. All of us who are interested have -abundance for the present; we are equipped for many good works. The -removal of this large quantity of ore, without attracting public -attention here, requires good judgment on the part of men who can be -absolutely trusted. You are the men selected for the responsible duty. -And remember it will be dangerous duty should our secret leak out. The -days of hold-ups are passing in the West, but have not yet passed; for -as you both know there are still a good few desperadoes among the wilds -of our Wyoming mountains." - -"My God--what loot!" murmured Roderick, glancing toward the curtain. - -"Yes--a rich loot," acquiesced the Major. "Now you young men will -understand that your interests are my own--that while I am delighted to -share this treasure with my chosen friends, these friends have been -and continue to be quite indispensable to me. Roderick, your question -earlier in the evening is answered--you will have a rightful share in -this gold. Get ready in about a week's time to earn it Now go tonight. -I will see you later on to unfold my plans for the journey in closer -detail." - -"Great guns," groaned Grant Jones, as the two young men gained the -roadway. "What a newspaper story--what a scoop! And not one damned word -can be put in type." - - - - -CHAPTER XXI.--A WARNING - - -BY SUBTLE alchemy of thought Roderick's feelings toward Scotty Meisch -had become entirely changed. On the ranch he had treated the rough, -uncultivated and at times insolent youth with contempt that was scarcely -concealed. He was not of his class; and Roderick by his manner had shown -that he counted Scotty as outside the pale of good breeding--a fellow -not to be associated with except in the necessary work of roping a steer -or handling a mob of cattle. It had been almost an act of condescension -on his part to accept Scotty's challenge to try out their respective -riding abilities at the frontier fair. Any hurt the lad might have -received in the contest was part of the day's game, and at the moment -Roderick had treated the incident with indifference. But now he found -himself feeling quite solicitous as to the poor fellow's condition. Of -course Gail Holden, who had interested herself in the injured cowboy, -had nothing to do with this change of sentiment--at least Roderick's -consciousness took no cognizance of her influence in the matter. All the -same, as he walked over to the hospital on the following afternoon to -inquire about the invalid, he was conning in his mind the chances of -perhaps meeting Gail there. - -However Scotty Meisch was alone when Roderick was admitted to the ward. -There was only another occupant of the long room, occupying a cot at -the farther end. The nurse as she brought Roderick to Scotty's bedside -declared that her patient was getting along fine, and that a visit from -a friend would cheer him up and do him good. Roderick smiled as he sat -down at the foot of the bed and the nurse moved away to attend to other -duties. Except for a bandaged head the cowboy looked fairly fit. - -"How are you, old man?" Roderick asked in a kindly tone. - -Scotty seemed quite disconcerted by this friendly greeting. He looked -sheepish and shame-faced. - -"Oh, I'll be all right in no time," he mumbled. "Expect you think I'm a -mean cuss," he added, after a moment's pause, glancing at Roderick then -hastily looking away again. - -"I haven't said so," replied Roderick in a pleasant and assuring way. - -"No, I know you hain't said it. But I've never, liked you from the first -time we met over at the Shield's ranch. I don't know why--damned if I -do. But I didn't like you and don't like you now, and I'm gosh'lmighty -ashamed of myself fer bein' so ornery." - -"You shouldn't speak of yourself so harshly," said Roderick, somewhat -interested in the turn the conversation was taking. - -"I don't deserve any kindness at your hands," Meisch went on. "I sure -planned to kill you onct 'til I found out you weren't sweet on Barbara -Shields. Oh, I'm a low-down cuss, but I'm ambitious. You hain't the -feller I'm after any more. It's that lawyer Carlisle and I'll git him, -you jist see. He's got to keep out of my way," and as Scotty, with a -black scowl on his face, said this he looked the part of an avenging -demon right enough. - -"I know," he continued, "Barbara is older than I am, but I'm dead gone -on her, even if she don't know it, an' I'll do things yet to that feller -Carlisle." Roderick was fairly perplexed by these references to Barbara -Shields and the disclosure of the rough cowboy's feelings toward his -employer's daughter. For a moment he could not find the proper word -to say. He just ventured a platitude, kindly spoken as it was kindly -intended: "Oh, you must get over these broodings, Scotty." - -"It's not broodings--it's business, and I mean it," he muttered. "Oh, -you needn't look so darned solemn. I've no more bad feelin's agin you. -But when you first came to the ranch, you know you couldn't ride any -better than a kid. But you began givin' yourself airs, an' then when I -thought you were goin' to cut me out with Barbara I jist got plum crazy. -That's why I sent you fair warnin'." - -A light broke in on Roderick. - -"So it was you who slipped that note under Grant Jones' door, was it?" -he asked in great surprise. - -"Yas. You can know it now; who cares? But it was only later I saw I was -on a blind trail--that it was the other one you're after--goin' fishin' -an' all that sort o' thing." - -Roderick reddened. - -"Oh, that's all fudge too," he exclaimed uneasily. - -"I'm not so sure 'bout that," replied Scotty, with a cunning look in his -eyes. "'Sides, she's dead gone on you, that's a cert. She was here all -yesterday afternoon, and could speak about nothin' else--praised yer -ridin' and allowed she was tarnation sorry to have missed seein' you -on Gin Fizz. Which reminds me that I've got to comgratulate you on the -championship." He slipped a hand timidly and tentatively from under the -bed-spread. "Oh, I can admit myself beat when I'm beat. You've grown to -be a better'n rider than me. I'm only a little skinny chap at the best, -but you showed yourself strong enough to kill that great big steer in -the bull-doggin'. You've got me skinned, and you hold the championship -right enough. Shake." - -And Scotty at last mustered up the moral courage to extend his hand. -Roderick took it and shook it warmly. So Gail had been talking about -him!--his heart had leaped with joy. - -"I'm glad to hear you speak like that, Scotty," he said with great -cordiality. "You and I can come to be mighty good friends." - -"Gee, but I wish I looked like you," remarked Scotty, lapsing into a -half smile. "Shake hands again with me, won't you?" - -Roderick reached over and once more bestowed a good honest squeeze; -and he improved the occasion by begging Scotty not to indulge in evil -thoughts about killing people or anything of that sort. - -"What makes you kind t' me?" asked the lad as he looked inquiringly at -Roderick. - -"I don't know that I have been particularly kind to you," replied -Roderick. "I begin to realize that I should have been here before now to -help cheer you up a bit while convalescing." - -Scotty turned from Roderick and looking at the ceiling was silent for a -few moments. At last he said: "Expect if I'd stay here a long, long time -you'd keep on bein' kind t' me. Possibly you would bring Barbara with -you on some of your visits. But I know I'm goin' t' get well, that's the -pity of it all. I wouldn't be in bed now if the doctor hadn't said I got -ter stay here for a few days. When I'm well, why, then it's all off with -you an' Scotty. You won't pay any more attention to me when I'm once -more sound as a nut an' ridin' range than you would a low down coyote." - -"Why should I become indifferent to you?" inquired Roderick. - -"Oh, no reason why you should, only you will," replied Scotty. "You are -of the high-falutin' an' educated kind an'--well, I never went to -school more'n two weeks in my life. I got tired of the educatin' -business--stole a horse and never did go back. An' they never caught me, -nuther." - -He brightened up when he said this and laughed at his cleverness as if -it were a most pleasant remembrance. - -"Where was your childhood home?" inquired Roderick. - -"Now, right there," replied Scotty, "is where yer presumin'. You're not -talkin' to me. D'ye suppose I'm goin' ter tell yer and have this whole -business piped off and those fellers come out here an' pinch me for -hoss-stealin'? Not on yer life, so long as Scotty Meisch knows himself." - -Roderick smiled as he said: "Surely, Scotty, you are a very suspicious -person. I had no thought of doing what you suggest." - -"Waal," drawled Scotty, "if you'd have been as near goin' to the -penitentiary as often as I have, you'd learn to keep yer mouth shut when -people begin to inquire into your past hist'ry an' not unbosom yerself. -Fact is, my hist'ry won't stand investigatin'. It's fuller of thin -places an' holes than an old-fashioned tin corn grater. You know what a -grater is, don't you? It's a tin bent over into a half moon an' nailed -to a board with holes punched from inside out to make it rough. Where I -come from we used to husk new corn just as soon as it was out of the -milk an' grate it into meal. About the only thing we had to live on was -cornmeal mush an' milk. Wish I had some now. I'm hungrier than hell for -it." - -The primitiveness of it all rather appealed to Roderick, and he called -the nurse and asked if she wouldn't serve the patient with some cornmeal -mush with milk for dinner that evening. - -"Certainly," she replied, "if Dr. Burke does not object," and went away -to make inquiries. In a little while she returned and said: "The doctor -says a nice bowl of cornmeal mush and milk would be just the thing for -Mr. Meisch." And it was so arranged. - -When the nurse had gone Roderick noticed a tear trickling down the cheek -of Scotty and in order not to embarrass the boy he turned away and stood -looking out of the window. Presently Scotty said: "I wish ter hell I was -decent, that's what I wish." - -Without turning from the window Roderick inquired: "How old are you, -Scotty?" - -"Guess I'm about nineteen. I don't know fer sure. They never did tell me -when my birthday was." - -"How would you like to go to school, Scotty? Brace up and be an educated -chap like other fellows." - -"Me learn to read an' write?" exclaimed Scotty. "Look here, Mr. -Warfield, are you chaffin' me? That's what some Englishmen called it -when they meant teasin' and so I say chaffin'. Might as well use all -the big words a feller picks up on the way." Roderick laughed aloud at -Scotty's odd expressions and turned to him and said: "Scotty, you aren't -a bad fellow. You have a good heart in you." - -"I don't know about that," said Scotty, shaking his head. "One time -there was a feller told me that tough cusses like me don't have -hearts--just gizzards." - -"Well," said Roderick, laughing, "my time has come to go now but I want -to tell you I like you, Scotty. You seem to me to be the making of a -very decent sort of chap, and if you will be a real good fellow and are -sincere about wanting to go to school and make something of yourself, I -believe I can arrange for you to do so." - -"Honest, Mr. Warfield, honest? Are you tellin' me the truth or is this a -sick bed jolly?" - -"Certainly I am telling you the truth," replied Roderick. "You think it -all over until I come and see you again." - -"When'll you come? Tomorrow?" - -"Yes," replied Roderick, "I'll come tomorrow." - -"All right," said Scotty, "I'll sure look for yer." The next day when -Roderick called, Major Buell Hampton and Grant Jones accompanied him. -They had a long talk with Scotty whose rapid recovery showed improvement -even from the previous day. After the subject had been introduced by -Roderick, who told Scotty that he had informed his friends of the -lad's desire to go to school, Major Buell Hampton observed: "A printing -office, Mr. Meisch, is a liberal education within itself. I have been -talking this matter over with Mr. Jones, the Editor of the _Dillon -Doublejack,_ and with Mr. Warfield, and we have mutually agreed that if -you are in earnest about leaving the range for a while and will learn -to read books and generally improve your mind, we shall give you the -opportunity. As soon as you are able to leave the hospital, how would -you like to go over to the little town of Dillon with Mr. Grant Jones, -this gentleman at my right, and go into his printing office?" - -"You would be my devil to start in with," said Grant, good-naturedly. - -"Guess that'd about fit me," responded Scotty with a grin. "I'm a sort -of a devil anyway, ain't I?" and he looked toward Roderick. - -"Mr. Jones means a different kind of a devil, Scotty," laughed Roderick. -"What Major Buell Hampton suggests to you is most excellent advice, and -I think you had better accept the offer. This job will give you a home, -and you will work in the printing office. You will soon learn to read -books, and also you will become a typesetter which, as Major Hampton -told you, is a practical education within itself and will lead to better -things and greater things along educational lines. Of course, it may be -some time before that knock on your head gets all right." - -"Oh, don't worry about my old bean," said Scotty with a smile, as he -touched the bandage that encircled his cranium. - -Finally Scotty said he believed he would like to try the new job. "You -know, I've been knocked 'round over the world an' kicked an' thumped an' -had my ears cuffed an' my shins barked so much that I don't hardly know -what to make uv you fellers. If I was sure you wasn't stringin' me an' -really meant it all as a kindness, why, I'll be goshdamed if I wouldn't -git up out o' bed this minute an' start for Dillon. That's what I'd do. -I ain't no piker." - -This speech was very amusing to Grant Jones; and he assured the injured -boy that he himself was not going over to Dillon for perhaps a week, -by which time if he were attentive to the instructions of the doctor he -probably would be able to accompany him. - -"I'll take you over," said Grant, "and we'll batch it together so far -as a place to sleep is concerned in the printing office. There is a good -boarding house just across the street where you can get your meals." - -"Who's goin' ter pay for them?" asked Scotty. "I ain't got any money." - -"That," said Roderick, "is what Major Buell Hampton is going to do for -you. Not only will he pay your board for one year until your work is -worth wages in the printing office, but he will also get you some new -clothes and a new pair of shoes and rig you out in good shape, old man." - -"Gee, but you're good to me, Major Hampton, and Warfield too. Yer ought -ter cuff my ears instead uv bein' so all-fired kind." - -With this the loveless boy turned towards the wall and covered his -face. Both Major Hampton and Grant, as well as Roderick, were noticeably -affected, and the three walked over toward the window while Scotty was -collecting himself. - -"I say," said Grant, sotto voce, "in the language of Jim Rankin, the -worst that poor little devil will get--if he goes with me--will be the -best of it." - -Then the visitors turned round to say good-by. The invalid had had about -enough excitement for one day. - -Just as they were departing, Scotty beckoned Roderick to his side. - -"Stop a minute or two with me--alone," he whispered. "I wants ter tell -you somethin'." - -Roderick excused himself to the others; he would join them on the porch -presently. - -Scotty's face wore a keen eager look. - -"Say, if I helps you," he began, "I'll be doin' a good turn, won't I, -to the girl that saved my life by hurryin' me along to this 'orspital -here?" - -"I believe she will count it as a favor," replied Roderick. "How can you -help me, Scotty?" - -"An' I'll be doin' you a favor," continued the lad, without answering -the direct question, "if I do a good turn to your friend with the name -that reminds me of Bull Durham terbaccer?" - -"Buell Hampton," laughed Roderick. - -"The Major you also call him. Wal, I can drop him a word o' warnin' -too." - -"Oh, he has never a thought about love affairs," replied Roderick, -smiling. - -"But this is a warnin' of another kind. Listen." And Scotty drew himself -up to a sitting posture on the bed. "Come nearer." - -Roderick complied; his ear was close to Scotty's lips. The cowboy spoke -in a whisper. - -"The Major's got a pile o' rich ore stored in his house. There's a bunch -o' fellers agoin' to get it, an' they'll shoot to kill as sure as God -made hell." - -Roderick mastered his emotion of surprise. - -"When is this to take place, Scotty?" he asked quietly. - -"Any night after tonight. Tonight they've fixed to square accounts -with some sheep herders over Jack Creek way. Then they're goin' for the -Major." - -Roderick gripped the other's hand. - -"Scotty, you have done me the biggest service in the world," he said -earnestly. "But one thing more--who are these men?" - -"I dassn't tell. They'd plug me full o' holes the moment I got out o' -here." - -Roderick felt perplexed. He did not like to press for information that -might seem to threaten danger for Scotty himself. - -The latter was watching his face furtively. - -"I know you're straight--you'll never give a feller like me away if I -tell you one name." - -"Never. You may stake your life on that." - -"Wal, I don't care what happens to him anyway. He's a bad egg--a rotten -bad egg clean through. And I'm done with him from now right on. I'm -goin' to take that printin' devil's job and act on the square." - -"That's right, Scotty. And we'll all help you to get clear of bad -companions and bad influences. So it's all right for you to give me that -name." - -"An' she'll be pleased too, won't she, that Holden young lady?" - -"She'll be always grateful to you for saving Buell Hampton." - -"That's 'nuff for me. The leader o' that gang is--" - -Scotty paused a moment; Roderick waited, silent and still. - -"Bud Bledsoe," whispered the lad. "Now I've stopped hatin' you, I've -sort o' turned to hatin' him and all his kind. But you'll not give me -away, Warfield? I wants ter hold down that printin' job--that editor -feller will make a man of me, that's just how I feel." - -"And just as we all feel," said Roderick. "Now, Scotty, you must lie -down. Let me fix your pillow for you. You've got some fever yet, I can -see. You must rest, old fellow. You look tired." - -"Yes; I'm doggoned tired," murmured the lad wearily, as he sank back on -the pillow and closed his eyes. - -"He is sleeping now, I think," said Roderick to the nurse as he passed -quietly out of the ward. - - - - -CHAPTER XXII.--THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK - -AFTER a brief consultation on the hospital veranda, Buell Hampton, -Roderick and Grant decided on an immediate consultation with Jim Rankin. -They found the ex-sheriff busy among the horses down at the brush stable -over the hill from the Major's home. - -Jim received the startling news with great complacency. - -"I've been expectin' tumultuous news o' this kind for quite a while," -he said. "Oh, I'm up to all the didoes o' both the cowpunchers and the -sheep herders. Never mind how I got to know them things. I just know -'em, and that's 'nuff said, good and plenty, for all present. If -the cowpunchers are going to Jack Creek tonight, there will be hell -a-poppin'." - -"Not murder, surely?" exclaimed Roderick. - -"Wal, there's no sayin' how them things end," replied Jim. "You see it's -this way. The cowpunchers claim they're afeard the sheep'll cross -over Jack Creek, an' they'll go armed with great big clubs as well as -shootin' irons. They'll undertake, I'm 'lowin', ter kill with their dubs -a whole lot o' sheep, maybe the hull kit an' bilin' uv 'em, shoot up the -mess wagons where the sheep herders are sleepin', an' the chances are -nine outer ten that they'll kill the herders an' then jist nachur'ly -burn the wagons an' the corpses, kill the shepherd dogs too an' throw -them on ter the fire and generally do a hellish piece uv intimidatin' -work. They'll burn the wagons ter hide evidence uv their guilt. You bet -they'll git keerless with their artillery." - -"Good God!" murmured Roderick in horror and surprise. - -"We must stop this murderous business," remarked Buell Hampton. - -"And get hold of Bud Bledsoe before he can do further harm," suggested -Grant Jones. "Let's hunt up the sheriff." - -"Now, just go slow, g'nlemen, please," replied Jim, expectorating an -inconvenient mouthful of tobacco juice and wiping his lips with the -back of his hand. "Jist you leave this business to me. I've been -prognosticatin' trouble for months back, an' know jist how to act. No -sheriff is wanted--at least not the bum sheriff we've got at the present -time. He needs no warnin' from us--mark my words. And even if he didn't -chance to know what we might be tellin' him, when he did know, it would -be his pertic'lar business to arrive after the killin'--that's politics. -Do you git me, Major?" - -"I'm afraid I get you all right, Jim," replied Buell Hampton gravely. - -"Well, let us go and see Ben Bragdon," proposed Roderick. - -"Not on your life," replied Jim excitedly. "Hell, man, he's the attorney -fur the cattle fellers." - -"He is a gentleman," exclaimed Roderick, "and if he is the attorney -for the cow men, so much the better. He would advise the bosses of -this contemplated lawbreaking raid and murder, and of course they -would immediately take steps to keep the cowboys from committing such -wickedness." - -Jim Rankin's black eyes fairly snapped as he looked Roderick straight in -the face and exclaimed: "Roderick, are yer as big a tenderfoot as that? -Don't yer know the cowboys don't go out murderin' uv their own accord on -these here cut-throat raids? They go, by gunnies, 'cause they're paid by -the higher ups ter do these dastardly killin' acts. Why, gosh 'lmighty, -Ben Bragdon draws a monthly retainer fee uv several figures ter protect -the higher ups an' there yer are, plain as a handle on a gourd. No, -by gunnies, while the Major and Mr. Jones keep guard here, you an' me, -Roderick, will have ter go alone an' jist nachurally take the law into -our own hands. We'll have plenty uv shootin' irons an' loco the cowboys -by shootin' an' wingin' two or three uv 'em, Bud Bledsoe in pertic'lar. -Oh, you bet I know how to do this job," and he chuckled reassuringly. - -"Well, I don't," replied Roderick. "I don't pretend to know these -cold-blooded murdering ways of the West or anything of this lawless feud -that is going on between the cattlemen and the sheep men. However, I -will go with you, Jim. When shall we start?" - -"Immediately after supper. There's no moon and it looks a little -squally. It will be darker than a stack of black cats, but by gunnies, I -know the way. All you've got to do is to have yer shootin' irons -ready, follow me and shoot when I shoot Now I guess there's no need -my onbosomin' myself any more," he added with a comprehensive glance -around. - -Roderick was unable to repress a smile. - -"All right, Jim, I'm game, and ready for the lark." - -"By gunnies, it ain't no lark howsumever; I know yer game," replied -Rankin. "You bet I kin tell a scrapper when I see him. Now not a word -to anyone else besides us four--exceptin' of course, Boney Earnest I'm -goin' over to the smelter right now, and will arrange for him to be here -tonight to help the Major." - -"And Tom Sun?" asked Roderick, anxiously. - -"Oh, he's in no danger. Them fellers are after his herders but not after -the big man. They know better--the law would be poppin' like hell if -they ever made the mistake o' hurtin' one o' the higher-ups." - -"Besides, Mr. Sun is at Rawlins today on business," observed Buell -Hampton. "He is riding, and is to come straight here. But he told me not -to expect him until midnight." - -"Which the cowpunching gang know quite well," said Jim emphatically. -"You bet they are playin' up tonight jist because they cal'clate on his -absence. Now we'll be a-movin'. Major, get your rifles well oiled--you -may need 'em. My ridin' hoss is over at the livery barn, and you an' -me, Roderick, will start from there at eight o'clock sharp. Oh, you -bet we'll have tumultuous doin's. Jist you an' me 'll show these killin' -cusses they're holdin' bob-tailed flushes fur oncet. They won't show up -here for the gold ore after we're through with 'em. Reminds me uv the -old sheriff days, boys. An' its 'lmighty good to be back to them," he -added, pushing his hat back on his head determinedly. - -"I think we must put you up for sheriff again next election," laughed -Grant Jones. - -"That's just what I'm prognosticatin'," replied the rugged old -frontiersman, with a grim smile. "Folks will see who's the real sheriff -tonight--me or that white-livered double-dealin' cur. Mills." And he -strode away in the direction of the smelting plant, chewing his tobacco -cud vigorously. - -At the appointed hour that night Roderick was at the livery barn, and -got ready his faithful horse, Badger. He had only waited a few minutes -when Jim Rankin made his appearance. They were soon in their saddles and -headed for Jack Creek. - -The night was very dark, and despite the would-be sheriff's vaunted -knowledge of the country they lost themselves several times, and on one -occasion had to retrace their steps four or five miles. Wherever it was -possible they urged their horses on as rapidly as was prudent, but often -for long distances it was a case of picking their way at a walking pace -through the inky blackness. It was within an hour of midnight when at -last they turned from the main road to the westward along the north bank -of Jack Creek, which was the dividing line between the flockmasters' and -the cattle men's range. Rankin explained that the bands of sheep were -being held about two miles on to the westward. - -They had not gone very far up the creek when they were startled by the -sight of two great fires burning like haystacks. They spurred their -horses and hurried as fast as possible over the uncertain and little -used road, and soon came upon a weird and terrible scene. Some three -or four hundred sheep had been clubbed to death and lay like scattered -boulders over the ground, while the two covered wagons where the herders -cooked their meals and likewise slept were fast burning to ashes. - -"By gunnies," said Jim Rankin, "we didn't get here quick enough. They've -sure done their hellish work. I'll bet there's two sheep herders an' two -shepherd dogs bumin' to cinders in them there fires. It's hell, ain't -it? They beat us to it for sure. But usually them doin's don't come off -'til one or two o'clock in the mornin'." - -"Where are the balance of the sheep?" inquired Roderick. "I thought you -said there were several thousand." - -"Why, boy," said Jim, "they're chasin' down toward Saratoga as if the -wolves were after them. There's 'bout three thousand sheep in each band -an' there were two bands uv 'em." - -Just then four masked men rode up out of the darkness toward the burning -outfits, but quickly checked their horses when they saw the two mounted -strangers. - -"Don't shoot, Roderick, don't shoot," whispered Jim. "By gunnies, -they've got us covered. Don't lift your artillery. They'll kill us sure -if yer do." Then he raised his trembling voice in a shout: "Hey, you -fellers, we seed somethin' burnin' here. Wonder what 'tis?" - -A deep guttural voice came back: "You two 'll find it a dam sight more -healthy to git back on the main road an' tend to your own business. You -have got jist one minute to start." - -"Come on," said Jim, agitatedly, whirling his horse, putting spurs to -him and leaving Roderick trailing far behind. - -Roderick rode along toward the main road which they had just left after -crossing over Jack Creek. He was disgusted with it all and with Jim -Rankin's poltroonery in particular. The sight he had seen by the -gleaming light of the burning wagons was ghastly. The innocent, helpless -sheep that had been clubbed to death through the selfishness of men. He -was in no mood for hilarity. It was a sight that would remain with him -and haunt him. Then too, he had received a new measure of Jim Rankin. - -But Roderick Warfield had all the blind audacity of youth and did not -give the old westerner Jim Rankin the credit he deserved. Jim Rankin was -versed in the ways of these western transgressors, and knew the price he -and Roderick would have to pay for "butting in" on a quarrel between the -cattle and the sheep men that was no direct concern of outsiders. This -price was death, swift and merciless. - -When Roderick reached the highway he pulled his horse to the right -toward the bridge that spanned Jack Creek. As he approached the bridge -he heard someone say: "Here he comes now." The voice was not Jim -Rankin's. - -"Hello," came a call in yet another voice, just as his horse reached the -bridge. - -"Come on, Roderick," cried Jim Rankin, "I'm here." - -"Who's with you?" inquired Roderick. - -"They'll tell you," replied Jim. - -Roderick rode up and found three men with drawn revolvers, and one of -them proved to be the sheriff of the county and the others his deputies. - -"Gentlemen," said the sheriff, "you are accused of killing a lot of -sheep up here on Jack Creek and burning a couple of wagons, and I arrest -you in the name of the law." - -"What does this mean?" inquired Roderick, hotly. - -"It means," said the sheriff, "you fellers will fork over your shootin' -irons quietly and submit to being handcuffed." - -"Look here, Mills," said Rankin, resentfully, "you're goin' too -dangnation far, by gunnies. I'll be responsible for young Warfield, -here. I'll go his bail. Dangnation, don't press me any furder or I'll -git peevish." - -"Well," replied Sheriff Mills, hesitatingly, "who will be responsible -for you?" - -"Why, Gosh'lmighty, Mills, we've know'd each other fur twenty-five -years. You go my security yourself or by the great horn spoon you'll not -kerry Rawlins precinct next election." - -"Watch that young feller," instructed the sheriff to his deputies. "Ride -over this way, Jim, where we can speak privately." - -A few moments later Rankin called out: "Come on, Roderick, let's be -goin'. It's gettin' late. Everything's all right." And together they -headed their horses for Encampment and rode on in the darkness. - -Jim Rankin presently said: "Well, by gunnies, Tom Sun has leastways got -to hand it to us fur tryin'." - -Roderick made no immediate reply and they continued their way in -silence. - -At last Roderick spoke. - -"You were mighty friendly with that white-livered, double-dealing cur, -the sheriff--that's what you called him a few hours ago." - -"Yes, but he wasn't present with a gun in his hand," replied Jim. "He -sure 'nuff had the drop on us." - -"How did you square him then?" - -"Politics," came the sententious answer. "And I guess I put one over him -at that. Somebody's goin' to git a dangnation throw-down, an' don't you -forgit it." - -An hour later they descended at the livery barn. The sky had cleared, -and they had ridden fast under the starlight. Roderick looked the -ex-sheriff squarely in the face. - -"Now, Jim Rankin, the next move in the game is going to be mine. Get -your three fours hitched up at once, and bring them down one by one as -fast as they are ready, to the Major's. We load that ore tonight, and -start for the railroad before daylight. Do you get me, my friend?" - -Jim Rankin for a moment looked into Roderick's eyes. - -"I guess I git you, Mr. Warfield," he replied, as he meekly turned away -toward the stables where the twelve powerful draught horses had been -held in preparedness for a week past. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII.--THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD - - -DAYLIGHT had not yet broken when the three four-horse wagons were -loaded and ready for the road. Not a moment had been lost after -Roderick's arrival at the Major's. That night he had had a grim glimpse -of what western lawlessness among the mountains might mean, and had -speedily convinced the Major that his policy of instant departure was -the wise one. Bud Bledsoe and his gang would rest at least one day, -perhaps two or three days, after their devilish exploit with the -sheep-herders, and when they came reconnoitering around the blockhouse -in which the ore was stored it would be to find the rich treasure gone. -The teams by that time would be at Walcott, or at least well on the way -to their destination. - -The little bunch of friends had set to work with a will. Jim Rankin got -the first team down within half an hour, and by that time the Major, Tom -Sun, who had duly turned up from Rawlins, Boney Earnest, Grant Jones and -Roderick had a goodly pile of the one-hundred-pound ore sacks stacked in -front of the house, ready to be lifted into the wagon. Without a hitch -or delay the work proceeded, and now that the loading was completed, and -the rifles and ammunition had been stowed under the drivers' seats, the -tension of suppressed excitement was relaxed. Pipes were alight during a -final consultation. - -The three tough old westerners, it was settled, were to drive. Boney had -announced his absolute determination to come along--the smelter could -go to blazes, he had applied some days before for a week's leave anyways -and if W. B. Grady chose to buck because he took it now, well he could -"buck good and plenty, and be damned to him." Tom Sun was keeping in -stern repression his wrath against the miscreants who had massacred -his sheep and probably killed his herders as well; it would be stern -satisfaction for him to have a fight on the road, to settle accounts -with Bud Bledsoe by the agency of a rifle bullet. Jim Rankin, after his -quiet taking-down by Roderick at the livery stable, had recovered his -accustomed self-assurance and bellicosity, and was "prognosticating" all -manner of valorous deeds once it came to guns out on both sides and fair -shooting. - -While these three would manage the teams, Buell Hampton, Grant and -Roderick would scout ahead on their riding horses, and provide a rear -guard as well so that the alarm of any attempted pursuit could be given. -Badger had been fed and rested, and looked fit for anything despite the -night's ride to Jack Creek. - -Jumping into the saddle Roderick, accompanied by Grant Jones, who knew -the road well, led the way. The wagons followed, while the Major delayed -just long enough to lock up the house, including the now empty inner -chamber, and clear away the traces of the night's work. The whole -cavalcade was three or four miles out of Encampment before the sun had -risen and the townsfolk were astir. - -The distance to be traversed was just fifty miles, and that night the -first camp was made beyond Saratoga. No public attention had been drawn -to the wagons; none of the people encountered on the road or at stopping -places had any reason to think that these ordinary looking ore-sacks -held gold that was worth a king's ransom. There had been no signs of -ambushed robbers ahead nor of pursuit in the rear. But that night, while -a few hours of sleep were snatched, watch was kept in turn, while each -sleeper had his rifle close at hand. With the first glimmer of dawn the -journey was resumed. - -It was well on in the afternoon when the Major spied, some distance out -on the open country to the left, the dust raised by a small party of -horsemen. He rode up to the wagons to consult his friends. He had just -pointed out the sign to Jim Rankin, when the riders disappeared behind a -rocky ridge. - -Jim had been shading his eyes while gazing fixedly. He now dropped his -hand. - -"By gunnies, they are after us right enough," he exclaimed. "That was -Bud Bledsoe in the lead--I know his ginger-colored pony. They're going -to cross Pass Creek lower down, then they will swing around into White -Horse Canyon, coming back to meet us after we've crossed the bridge -and are on the long steep hill just beyond. Dang me if that ain't their -game." - -The Major rode ahead to warn Grant and Roderick. The bridge over Pass -Creek was only three miles from Walcott. If the three scouts could -gain the crest of the steep slope, before the robbers, the advantage of -position would be theirs. - -Roderick grasped the plan of campaign in an instant, and, digging his -spurs into Badger's flank, galloped off full pelt. Grant and the Major -followed at the best pace of their less mettled ponies. - -It was less than a mile to the bridge, and Badger was soon breasting -the hill at a swinging canter. Just before reaching the summit Roderick -descended, and throwing the bridle over the pony's head tethered it in -cowboy fashion. "I'll be back in a minute, old fellow," he said, as he -gave Badger an affectionate pat on the neck. Then, rifle in hand, he -walked up the remaining few yards of the slope, and cautiously peered -over the crest into White Horse Canyon. - -Great Scott! seven or eight horsemen away down at the foot of the -descending incline were just scrambling out of the waste of cacti -and joshuas on to the roadway! The first comers were waiting for the -stragglers, and a pow-wow was evidently being held. Roderick gripped -the butt of his rifle. But he heard the clatter of hoofs behind him, and -drew back for the time being. Waving a cautioning hand to Buell Hampton -and Grant as they approached, he gave the news in a few words. It -took only a minute to tie all three horses securely to the low-growing -grease-wood that here skirted the road--the animals, although -well-trained, might be stampeded by the shooting. Then, rifles in hand, -Roderick, Grant and the Major crept up to the crest of the ridge. Before -reaching it the sharp tattoo of horse hoofs smote their ears. - -"That's Bud Bledsoe in the lead on the ginger pony," exclaimed Buell -Hampton. - -Nothing more was needed by Roderick; if Bud Bledsoe was there, the gang -were lawbreakers and bent on further villainy. - -"Bang!" went Roderick's rifle; and the ginger-colored horse plunged -forward on his knees, and then rolled over, kicking wildly in the air. -Two horses behind stumbled over the obstruction, and instantly there -was a confused heap of struggling beasts and men. Four other riders had -reined in their steeds just in time, and were standing stock-still on -the highway. - -"Keep it up, but don't kill," muttered the Major, just before he fired -his own rifle. Almost at the same instant came "bang" from Grant's -shoulder, and a second shot by Roderick. - -At this fusillade the four cowboys still mounted jumped their horses -into the sage brush and cacti and were gone like a streak across -country. One of the fallen horses had struggled to its feet, and a -figure leaped into the saddle. It was Bud Bledsoe--Roderick knew him by -his gorilla-like figure. Leaving his two fallen comrades to their -fate, the leader raced after the fleeing quartette. Three rifle bullets -whizzed past him to quicken his pace. Then the marksmen on the ridge -stood erect. - -Two motionless human figures lay on the road at the bottom of the hill; -the ginger horse had rolled in among the bushes in his death throes, the -other was limping along with a broken leg. Roderick ran down the slope -on foot, leaving the others to follow with the horses. - -The first man he reached was dead, his neck broken by the fall. Roderick -recognized him at a glance--for when once riding the range with a bunch -of cowboys they had passed a lone rider on a mountain trail and the name -had been passed around--Butch Cassidy, a horse rustler, and an outlaw -of the hills. The other fellow was bleeding from a wound in his breast; -there was a gulping gurgle in his throat. He had evidently been hit by -Grant's first bullet, which had been fired too quick for any heed to be -paid to Buell Hampton's merciful injunction. Just as Roderick raised the -limp hand the wounded man opened his eyes; then he uttered one great sob -and died. - -A few minutes later bullets from Grant's revolver put the injured horses -out of pain. - -In the dusk of the falling night the dead men were borne on the ore -wagons into Walcott. The station agent recognized the second corpse -as that of a notorious gambler and hold-up artist, an old associate of -Big-Nosed George in early days. The railroad man treated the bodies as -trash, but condescended to wire down the line for the coroner and the -sheriff. The car, which had been ordered several days before, was on -the side track awaiting the ore shippers, and he counselled that there -should be no delay in loading, as a through freight for Denver was due -shortly after midnight. So the fight was forgotten, and the work of -transferring the ore sacks from the wagons was soon in progress, all -present, even the Major, lending a hand. - -After the task had been completed, the bill of lading prepared and all -charges prepaid, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, Tom Sun and Grant Jones -boarded the car. They were well provided with blankets for bedding -and still carried their rifles. Buell Hampton and Roderick remained to -arrange for the sending back of the teams and saddle horses; they would -follow on the morning passenger train, and the whole party would reach -Denver practically at the same hour next night. - -No further incident occurred. But not until the carload of ore had -been duly delivered, sampled, and weighed did the four faithful and -well-armed guards relax their vigilance. The purchasers were the -Globe Smelter Company, with whose manager Boney Earnest had personal -acquaintance. - -While secrecy was exercised concerning this remarkable ore shipment, -yet the news gradually crept out and it became known that something -phenomenal had occurred. The newspaper reporters hovered around the -Globe Smelter endeavoring to pick up a few crumbs of information. - -Buell Hampton and his friends were registered at the Brown Palace Hotel -where they had arranged for connecting rooms. Two days afterwards Buell -Hampton announced to his friends, in the privacy of his room, that the -returns were all he had anticipated. The money had been duly deposited -to his credit, and now he wrote checks running into five figures for -each of his friends, and admonished them separately and collectively to -deposit the money in some Denver bank to their individual credit, then -return to their Encampment homes and each continue his avocation as if -nothing had happened to improve their financial affairs. - -"As for myself," said the Major, "I have a mission to perform, and I -probably will not return to Encampment for a matter of fifteen or twenty -days." - -That night Major Hampton left for New York carrying with him certified -checks for a large sum of money, and on the following morning the -others took train for Wyoming. Within a few days all had resumed their -accustomed routine. Jim Rankin was back on his stage coach making his -usual trips; Boney Earnest, after an acrimonious scrap with Grady over -the question of absence without leave, was in his old place before -the blast furnace; Tom Sun regained his home at Split Rock, north of -Rawlins, Grant Jones returned to his editorial duties, Roderick to his -preparations for a prospecting expedition. - -Both Grant and Roderick had brought with them checks for a few thousand -dollars, which they deposited in the local bank to the great surprise of -the cashier. And even before leaving the bank they began to realize -that their importance in the community had already gone up a hundred per -cent. Such is the prompt efficacy of a substantial bank balance! - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV--SUMMER DAYS - - -WITHIN less than a year of his leaving Keokuk to play football with -the world, as Uncle Allen Miller had phrased it, Roderick Warfield had -established himself in a sound financial position. So far he had not -been made the "pig-skin" in life's game. While he was filled with -grateful feeling toward Buell Hampton, and recognized the noble -generosity of his friend, he had at the same time the satisfaction of -feeling that he had done at least a little toward earning a share in the -proceeds derived from the carload of rich ore. And once he found his own -mine, his father's mine, it would be his turn to follow the golden rule -and share liberally with those around him. - -When he had handed in the Denver check at the local bank, he had already -found a new deposit to his credit there--a sum of money to which he -had never given a thought from the moment it was won. This was the $450 -coming to him as the World's Championship prize in the rough-riding -and outlaw-busting competition at the frontier celebration. It was with -intense delight that Roderick decided to apply this windfall to finally -clearing off his New York liabilities. He felt like walking even a bit -more erect than ever now that he would owe not a dollar in the world. -After luncheon he returned to the bank and secured eastern drafts. - -But there was a balance remaining, and Roderick at once thought of the -lad who had not only suffered defeat in the contest but injury as well. -Major Hampton had already undertaken the provision of clothes and other -outfit for Scotty Meisch. Roderick thought for a moment; then he walked -across to the Savings Bank and started an account in the cowboy's name -with a credit of $100. He carried the little pass-book with him to the -hospital. - -He found Scotty reclining in a long chair on the veranda. The invalid -was convalescent, although looking pale from the unwonted confinement. -His face brightened with joy when Roderick, looking down with a pleasant -smile, patted him on the shoulder and gripped his hand. - -"Gee, but it's good to see you again," murmured the boy. "It seems like -a hell of a time since you were here. But I got the postcard you sent me -from Denver." - -"Yes, Scotty, as I wrote you, Grant Jones and I, also the Major, have -all been to Denver. We were called away unexpectedly or would have paid -you a parting visit. But I've come around at once, you see. Grant Jones -and I got back only this afternoon. Mr. Jones is going to take you over -to Dillon next week. Meanwhile I have brought you this little book, old -fellow." - -Scotty glanced at the pass-book, wonderingly and uncomprehendingly. He -turned it over and over. - -"An' what's this piece o' leather goods for?" he asked. - -"That means you've got $100 to your credit in the Savings Bank, -Scotty--the consolation prize, you remember, in the broncho-busting -contest." - -"Consolation prize be damned. There was no consolation prize." - -"Oh, yes, there was." - -"Not by a danged sight You've gone an' done this, Warfield." - -"Well, I got the big money, and hasn't the winner the right to give off -a bit of it as a consolation prize? Just stuff that book in your pocket, -Scotty, and may the hundred dollars soon roll up to a thousand, old -fellow." - -"Great guns, but you're powerful kind to me--all of you," murmured the -cowboy. There were tears in his eyes. - -"And by the way, Scotty," continued Roderick, talking gaily, "that -reminds me, I've got to go across to Englehart's store and take over -that grand championship saddle he was showing in his window--Banker Buck -Henry's special prize, you remember. I had almost forgotten about it. -Why, it's mine--stamped leather, solid silver mounts, and all the gewgaw -trimmings. How will I look riding the ranges with that sort of outfit?" - -"You'll look just grand," exclaimed Scotty admiringly. "But you won't -use that on the range. It will be your courtin' outfit." - -Scotty smiled wanly, while Roderick laughed in spite of himself. The -invalid felt emboldened. - -"Oh, she's been over here every day during your absence," he continued. -"Gee, but she's pretty, and she's kind! And let me tell you somethin' -else. Barbara's been a-visitin' me too. Just think o' that." - -"Ah, all the girls are good, Scotty--and Wyoming girls the best of all," -he added enthusiastically. There was safety in the general proposition. - -"Barbara an' I has made it all up," continued the lad, still smiling, -wistfully yet happily. "She's dead stuck on that lawyer chap, Bragdon, -and we shook hands over it. I wished her luck, and promised to vote for -Bragdon at the election for state senator. An' what do you think she did -when I told her that?" he asked, raising himself in his chair. - -"She said 'Bully for you,' I bet," replied Roderick. "She did more. She -kissed me--fair and square, she kissed me," Scotty put his finger-tips -to his forehead. "Oh, only there," he added, half regretfully. "But I'll -never forget the touch of her lips, her sweet breath in my face." And he -patted the spot on his brow in appreciative reminiscence. - -"That's politics, as Jim Rankin would say," laughed Roderick, more to -himself than to the cowboy. - -"Wal, it's the sort o' politics I like," replied Scotty. "If she'd even -only cuff my ears every time I voted, I'd be a repeater for Bragdon at -the polls." - -"Well, we'll both vote the Bragdon ticket, Scotty. A girl like Barbara -Shields is worth making happy, all the time. And later on, old fellow, -the proper girl will be coming along for you." - -"Looks as if she was comin' along for you right now," grinned Scotty, -glancing toward the steps of the veranda. - -And a moment later Roderick was shaking hands with another hospital -visitor, gazing into Gail Holden's blue eyes, and receiving her warm -words of greeting over his safe return. - -"We heard something about a fight near Walcott, you know, Mr. -Warfield--about a mysterious carload of ore. Two hold-up men were -killed, and your name was mentioned in connection with the affair. I -felt quite anxious until Mr. Meisch received his postcard from Denver. -But you never thought of writing to me," she added, reproachfully. - -"I did not dare," murmured Roderick in a low tone intended only for her -ears. - -But Scotty heard and Scotty saw. - -"This is the very hour the nurse says I've got to sleep," he said. -"You'd better be clearin' out, War-field." - -"And me too?" asked Gail, laughingly. - -"The pair o' you," replied the invalid, as he lay back languorously and -closed his eyes. - -"I guess we'd better be going," laughed Roderick. - -"Perhaps Mr. Meisch is awake enough yet," said Gail, "to hear that I -brought over a chicken for his supper." - -"Tell the nurse I'll have it fried, please," yawned Scotty, as, without -opening his eyes, he turned over his head in slumberous fashion. - -"Come away then, Miss Holden," said Roderick. "I suppose you rode -over on Fleetfoot. I'll saddle Badger, and we'll have a gallop across -country." - -"No doggoned politics there," exclaimed the cowboy, awaking suddenly, as -he watched the handsome couple disappear. "That's the real thing, sure." - -The summer days glided past. The Major had returned from New York and -had quietly resumed his old life of benevolence among the poor. But soon -there seemed to be no more poverty in or around Encampment. Roderick, -keeping the mining town as his headquarters, made a series of -expeditions into the mountains, systematically searching every range -and every known canyon. He would be absent for several days at a time, -sometimes with Jim Rankin for a companion, Grant Jones once or twice -accompanying him, but latterly with Boney Earnest as his _fidus -Achates._ For Boney had severed his connection finally with the Smelter -Company, after a quarrel with Grady that had ended in the blast furnace -foreman knocking his employer down. Such is the wonderful independence -that comes from a bank balance--even a secret bank balance that may not -command the deference accorded to known financial prosperity. - -Between his prospecting expeditions Roderick spent an occasional evening -either at the Conchshell Ranch or at the Major's, with a flying call now -and then at the Shields home, especially when Grant was on one of his -periodical visits to Encampment. - -The month was now September. The rugged mountains still guarded their -secret, and Roderick was beginning to fear that the quest for his -father's mine was indeed going to be a vain one. But there came an -interlude to his range-riding and gold-dreaming. The state conventions -were approaching. Even love became a minor matter to politics. The air -was surcharged with electricity. - - - - -CHAPTER XXV.--RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR - - -AT BREAKFAST table one morning Roderick noticed in the _Encampment -Herald_ a featured article about the forthcoming Republican convention. - -"Oh, yes," replied Grant, when Roderick called his attention to it, -"this convention trouble has been brewing for some time. Personally, -as you know, I am a Republican, even though my paper, the _Dillon -Doublejack_, is a dyed-in-the-wool Democratic organ." - -"What trouble," asked Roderick, "can there possibly be about a county -convention?" - -"It's a senatorial convention," explained Grant. "There is an old -saying," he went on, "that every dog has his day. But unfortunately -politically speaking there are more dogs than days, and when two or -three contestants try to get in on the same day, why, somebody is going -to get bitten. There is only one state senatorial job from this district -but there may be half-a-dozen fellows who feel called upon to offer -themselves upon the political altar of their country." - -"Have noticed a good many fellows down from the hills recently," replied -Roderick. - -"Well, that's politics," said Grant. "They take a lay off from their -work in the hills--come down here to fill up on free political whiskey -furnished by the various candidates. Oh, take it from me," said Grant, -looking wise and shaking his head, "these delegates are a booze-fighting -bunch for fair." - -For a moment or two the journalistic oracle busied himself with his -toast and butter. - -"You watch the columns of my paper," he resumed. "I'm going to show up -these whiskey drinking, habits of the delegates good and plenty in this -week's issue of the _Doublejack._ In the language of Jim Rankin I get a -heap peevish with all this political foolishness. Still," Grant went on, -"I presume it is a part of the political machinery of the frontier. -One thing," he concluded, "we all become unduly excited in these -ante-convention days." - -Political excitement had indeed waxed warm, and the little mining town -had seemingly ceased to think about its mines, its great smelting plant, -rich strikes in the hills and everything else--even the cattle men and -the sheep men appeared to have forgotten their feuds together with their -flocks and herds in the general excitement over the nomination for state -senator from southern Carbon County. - -Grant Jones in his Doublejack editorials made emphatic and urgent appeal -to the people to remember the doctrines of the old Simon-pure Jacksonian -democracy and agree upon a good Democratic nominee. With a split in the -Republican ranks the chances were never better for the election of a -Democratic senator. He pointed out that if Bragdon won the nomination -the Carlisle clique would secretly knife the Bragdon forces at the -polls by voting the Democratic ticket, and on the other hand if Carlisle -should best Bragdon in the nominating contest then the Bragdon following -would retaliate by supporting the Democratic nominee so as to defeat -Carlisle in the end. - -On the Republican side W. Henry Carlisle, the astute lawyer, was backed -by the smelter interests, while Ben Bragdon, the eloquent, was supported -by the antismelter forces generally and also by Earle Clemens, editor of -the _Encampment Herald,_ one of the best known and most highly respected -party leaders in the state. - -The so-called smelter interests were certainly discredited because of -the domineering insolence of W. B. Grady and his unfair treatment of -the men. Not only did Grady practice every sort of injustice upon the -employees of the great smelting plant in all its various departments, -but he also quarreled with the ranchmen in the valley whenever he had -dealings with them even to the extent of buying a load of hay. - -As convention day approached there was a noticeable feeling of unrest -and nervousness. Factional strife was running at high tension. - -The wise men of the party said they could plainly see that unless -harmony in the Republican ranks obtained at the convention the nominee -would be defeated at the polls, and that if Ben Bragdon's nomination -were insisted upon by his friends without in some way conciliating the -Carlisle faction the Democrats would be almost certain to win at the -following November's elections. - -It was pretty generally conceded that Ben Bragdon, controlled the -numerical strength of the delegates, but the wiseacres would ask in -their solicitude: "Is it wisdom to take such a chance? Does it not -invite a split in the ranks of our party? In other words, does it not -mean defeat for the Republican candidate on election day?" - -Carlisle was a power to be reckoned with, and had a clannish, determined -following in political affairs, and although he and his friends might -be outnumbered and beaten in the nominating convention, yet what would -follow if Bragdon's nomination were forced upon them? What would be the -result? Would not Carlisle's following secretly slash the rival they had -been unable to defeat at the nominating convention? - -A "dark horse" seemingly was the only way out of the dilemma, and the -more conservative delegates insisted that Bragdon and his friends must -be brought to understand and recognize the possibilities of almost -certain defeat unless harmony could be insured; otherwise Bragdon must -be compelled to withdraw. - -Early in the morning before the day named for the senatorial convention -to assemble at Rawlins the delegates at Encampment and several hundred -friends of the respective candidates started overland for the convention -city. - -There were two roads from Encampment to Rawlins--one that branched off -from the so-called main road and went along the Platte River bottom. -The distance by either route was about sixty miles. Carlisle and his -following went one road, while Bragdon and his following traveled by the -other road, both arriving at the hotel in Rawlins at the same time with -panting horses. It was a mad race, each faction trying to show supremacy -over the other even at the cost of horseflesh. - -The delegates gathered in knots of three and four in the lobby of the -hotel, in the barroom and in the private rooms during the afternoon and -evening before convention day. - -The trains had arrived from the East and the West, and the delegates -from all over the senatorial district were present and ready for the -fray that was certain to come off the following day--indeed, Rawlins, -the county seat, was alive with politicians and the Ferris House, the -leading hotel of the place, was a beehive of activity. The Democratic -spectators were jubilant and made their headquarters at Wren's saloon. - -It was at the Ferris House that W. Henry Carlisle had opened his -headquarters in opposition to Ben Bragdon. The Carlisle people said -they had no alternative candidate. Any one of a score of men might be -named in the district, each of whom would be satisfactory; in fact, -anyone excepting Ben Bragdon, provided, of course, it was found that -Carlisle could not be nominated, which they were far from conceding. - -Bragdon and Carlisle had often before locked horns in hotly contested -lawsuits up in the-hills, but in addition to their legal fights for -supremacy there had been one special controversy that had resulted in -a big financial loss for which each held the other responsible. It -involved a bitter fight over a mining claim wherein both Bragdon and -Carlisle had financial interests, and both had finally lost. It was a -rich property and had by decree of the courts been awarded to a third -party. But the decision did not lessen the feud. The impelling motive in -their political contest was not half so much, perhaps, for the honor of -being state senator as it was a consuming desire in the heart of each to -best and lick the other. - -Some of the delegates, even those who were inclined to be friendly to -Bragdon's candidacy, acknowledged that seemingly he had made no effort -to pacify either Carlisle or his friends, and thus, in a way, had proven -himself deficient as a political leader and standard-bearer for the -party. - -Others claimed that a reconciliation was impossible, that the breach was -entirely too wide to be patched up at the eleventh hour. Still others -were of the opinion that if the Bragdon forces would concede the -chairmanship of the convention to Carlisle and his friends and thus -give substantial evidence of a desire to harmonize and be friendly, past -differences could be adjusted, with the result not only of Bragdon's -nomination but his election as well. - -Those high in the leadership of the Bragdon forces laughed incredulously -and scorned to consider such a compromising surrender, and further -expressed their disbelief in the sincerity of Carlisle and his crowd -even if the Bragdon following were willing to make such a concession. - -"No," said Big Phil Lee, Bragdon's chief lieutenant, "I'm a Kentucky -Democrat, boys, as you all know, but in this fight I'm for Bragdon--a -Bragdon Republican--and we've got the whip-hand and by the Eternal we -will hold it. We Bragdon fellows have already agreed upon a chairman -and a secretary for both the temporary and permanent organizations -of tomorrow's convention, and we have selected Charlie Winter to -name Bragdon in a nominating speech that will be so dangnation -eloquent--well, it will simply carry everybody off their feet. He is -the boy that can talk, you bet he is. Oh, you bet we've got 'em licked, -Carlisle and all his cohorts. And let me tell you something else," -continued Big Phil Lee, gesticulating, "we'll hold them responsible for -the final result. If Bragdon's not elected, it will be because Carlisle -and his gang knife him at the polls. Just let them do such a dirty -contemptible piece of political chicanery and they'll be marked men ever -afterwards in this senatorial district, and not one of them could be -elected even to the office of dog pelter." - - - - -CHAPTER XXVI.--UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY - - -IT WAS just such talk as Big Phil Lee's that kept the Bragdon forces -lined up and defiant to the point of an open rupture and a total -disregard for the minority, while the Democrats cheered Big Phil Lee's -remarks with enthusiastic hoorays. - -The individual who really held the destiny of the party that year in -the hollow of his hand and within the next few hours proved himself the -Moses to lead all factions from the paths of bickering into the highway -of absolute harmony, was the newspaper man, Earle Clemens. All through -the evening hours the editor of the _Herald_ had been a most eloquent -listener. He was on good terms with everybody, jovial and mixed with -all factions, and yet was scrupulously careful to avoid giving any -expression of advice or stating an opinion. He had, however, been very -outspoken in his editorial advocacy for harmony. - -Earle Clemens was not only known and respected all over the state as an -able newspaper man, but he was the possessor of a rich tenor voice that -had delighted many an audience up in the hills, and then, too, he had -composed the melody of the state song, entitled "Wyoming"--all of which -tended to his great popularity and powerful influence. - -While it was quite generally known that Clemens was perhaps closer in -his friendship for Bragdon than any other man in the district, dating -from way back when the generous-hearted young lawyer had helped Clemens -at a time and in a way that money could not buy or repay, yet the -editor of the _Herald_ had all along insisted that unless the Bragdon -sympathizers effected a reconciliation with the Carlisle crowd, -it virtually meant, if Bragdon's nomination were forced upon the -convention, a Democratic victory at the coming November election. - -In his last editorial, before the convention was to assemble, he had, -in reply to Democratic newspaper gibes about a high old row which was -likely to obtain at the oncoming Republican convention, branded the -writers one and all as political falsifiers. He boldly announced that -not a single discordant note would be heard when the Republican host -came to nominate its standard bearer, and furthermore that the choice -would be emphasized by a unanimous vote of the delegates. And in the -final event the Republican candidate, he declared, would be elected -by such an overwhelming popular vote that it would make the false -Democratic prophets and bolting Republican malcontents, if there were -any, "hunt the tall timber." - -The Democratic press in reply had said that the editor of the _Herald_ -was whistling to keep up his courage, and of course much amusement -had been caused by the spirited controversy. So when the eventful day -arrived fully as many Democrats journeyed to Rawlins to see the fun as -there were Republican delegates. Of course, as good Democrats, they lost -no opportunity to help embitter the two factions and widen the breach -between the Bragdon and the Carlisle forces. - -Editor Earle Clemens, however, had ideas of his own that he told to no -one. The electric light was shining in his room long after midnight and -his small hand typewriter, which he always carried in his grip, was busy -clicking away--presumably writing copy for the columns of his paper. -What really occurred however, was this: He wrote two letters on the -hotel stationery--one addressed to Hon. Ben Bragdon, and the other -addressed to Hon. W. Henry Carlisle, and the envelopes were marked -private. - -After the letters were duly typewritten, he placed an electric light -under a pane of glass with which he had provided himself, elevating -the glass by supporting the ends with a couple of books, and then from -letters that he had at some former time received from both aspirants -cleverly traced and signed the signature of W. Henry Carlisle to one -letter and in like manner signed the signature of Ben Bragdon to the -other letter--yes, brazen forgeries. - -After inclosing them in their respective envelopes, he stole softly out -into the hallway and slipped one under the door of Carlisle's room and -the other under the door of Bragdon's room. Then he went downstairs -and bribed the night clerk to call both Bragdon and Carlisle at sharp -fifteen minutes before six o'clock. This done, Clemens hastened back to -his own apartment for a few hours' sleep, wondering as he disrobed if -the "end would justify the means." - -"There is no question," he said to himself as he climbed into the bed, -"but that the Republican ox is in the ditch and heroic measures are -necessary." - -The following morning, when W. Henry Carlisle was awakened by the night -clerk calling out softly the hour of seven o'clock, he hastily arose and -began dressing, but before he had half finished he spied the letter that -had been pushed under his door. Picking it up, he broke the seal and -this is what he read: - -"My dear Carlisle:-- - -"It probably requires more bravery to make an apology and to ask to be -forgiven than it does to settle differences between gentlemen by the now -antiquated 'code.' - -"I here and now tender my apologies for any unkind words I may in the -past have spoken derogatory to you, and as an evidence of my candor -will pledge you the support of myself and friends for both temporary -and permanent chairman at tomorrow's convention, if you reciprocate this -offer of a reconciliation. - -"If you are big enough and broad enough and generous enough to accept -this overture and desire to bury all past differences and from now on -work in harmony together, each helping the other, as did Jonathan and -David of old, why, the opportunity is offered, and we will let bygones -be bygones. - -"If you accept this apology, meet me at the hotel bar early tomorrow -morning and merely extend your hand of friendship in greeting. I will -understand; but please do not humiliate me by mentioning the fact, even -to your best friends, that I have written this letter, and above all do -not refer to it at our meeting tomorrow morning or at any future time. -It is quite enough if these old differences are wiped off the slate -between you and myself without commenting, or permitting comments to be -made. I am not unmindful, Carlisle, that you are a great big able man -and I want you to be my friend, and I wish to be yours. You have the -power to make my nomination for state senator unanimous. - -"I have the honor of subscribing myself - -"Very sincerely yours, - -"Ben Bragdon." - -Across the hall Ben Bragdon was also reading a letter, which was almost -a duplicate of the one that Carlisle was perusing, except that the -conditions were reversed. Carlisle, in his letter of apology, offered to -support Bragdon for the nomination, provided the hatchet was buried -and the Bragdon forces would support him for temporary and permanent -chairman. - -At the conclusion of the reading of these respective letters, each wore -an exultant look of mastery on his face. For the time being at least all -other differences were forgotten. In the hearts of both was the thought: -"It's mighty decent of him; he really is a bigger man than I thought." - -Carlisle was the first man to leave his room and going quickly -downstairs passed hurriedly into the hotel bar, which at that early hour -was deserted except for the immaculate, white-aproned bartender. - -"What will it be this morning, Mr. Carlisle?" was the respectful inquiry -of the attendant. - -"Nothing just yet," replied Carlisle, "I am waiting for a friend." - -A moment later Ben Bragdon came in, whereupon both of these skillful -politicians vied in meeting each other more than half-way and extending -the right hand of good fellowship in kindliest greetings. - -"Guess we're a little early," stammered Bragdon in a futile attempt to -appear at ease and free from embarrassment. They both laughed a little, -and Carlisle remarked that fortunately the bartender was at his post -even if the delegates were slow about getting started on the day's work. - -Just then the night clerk appeared and apologized for calling them so -early. "Don't know how it happened," he stammered, "but I made a mistake -of an hour. I called you gentlemen at six instead of seven. I hope -you'll not--" - -"Oh, that's all right," exclaimed Bragdon and Carlisle in unison, as -they good-naturedly waved him aside with their assurance that they were -glad to be up and about. - -"A couple of Martini cocktails," said Bragdon to the attendant. The -cocktails were soon before them and tossed off in a jiffy, with the -mutual salutation of "Here's how." - -"Come again, my man; make it half a dozen this time--three apiece," said -Carlisle, laughing and throwing down a twenty dollar gold piece. "Might -as well have a good appetizer while we're about it, and then we'll -relish our breakfast, good or bad." - -They chatted about the weather while the cocktails were being prepared. -Finally the cocktails were pushed along the bar counter, three in front -of each. - -"All right," said Bragdon, as they each lifted a glass. "Here's to your -good health!" - -"Thanks," said Carlisle, "but since we have three cocktails apiece -before us, suppose we drink to the past, the present, and the future!" - -"Good!" replied Bragdon, beaming with approval. "Splendid idea and -happily put" He then ordered some of the highest priced cigars the house -afforded and insisted on Carlisle filling his pockets, while he stowed -away a goodly number himself. - -Soon after the fourth cocktail disappeared, they started for the -dining-room arm in arm, chatting away to one another like two old -cronies who had just met after a long separation. They found seats at a -table in a far corner and in their eagerness to say the right thing to -one another took no notice that a few of the delegates were already at -tables in different parts of the room. The delegates laid down their -knives and forks and looked toward Bragdon and Carlisle in astonishment. -Then they whispered among themselves, whereupon four or five left the -room quietly and hastened with all speed to carry word to the other -delegates, most of whom were still in their apartments. - -The news spread like wildfire, and a general scramble followed in -hurriedly dressing and rushing downstairs to witness with their own eyes -such an unexpected turn in political affairs between two men who had -been at daggers drawn. - -Within a very short time the dining-room was well filled with delegates, -but neither Bragdon nor Carlisle paid any attention; nor were they -seemingly conscious that all eyes were turned upon them. Each was -felicitating himself on the turn of events. Then, too, their amiability, -as well as their appetites, had no doubt been whetted into keenest -activity by the cocktails. - -Ben Bragdon, after breakfast, gave orders that the Hon. W. Henry -Carlisle was to be made both temporary and permanent chairman, and -Carlisle likewise announced that the Hon. Ben Bragdon was to be -nominated as senatorial candidate by acclamation; and each issued his -instructions in such a matter-of-fact, yet stubbornly blunt fashion, -that no one offered any objection or asked any questions. - -The delegates looked at each other, nudged one another in the ribs -and indulged in many a sly wink of suppressed amusement. But they all -quickly recognized the political advantage insured by a coalition of the -Bragdon and Carlisle forces, and the utter dismay this would cause in -the camp of the Democrats. Therefore they all became "programme" men -and took their orders meekly. So when the convention finally met and -got down to business with Carlisle presiding, it at once proceeded to -nominate Ben Bragdon by a unanimous vote. - -Seemingly everybody cheered on the slightest provocation and everybody -was in excellent good nature, and after the convention had completed -its labors and adjourned, it was conceded to have been one of the most -harmonious political gatherings ever held in the state. Thus was the -prediction of Earle Clemens, the newspaper scribe, fulfilled to the very -letter. - -The convention over, the delegates drifted back to the Ferris House -and not long after Big Phil Lee called at Clemens' room. The editor was -picking away at his typewriter, preparing a report for the columns of -his paper. Grant Jones, Roderick Warfield, and two or three others were -in the room, smoking and talking. But Clemens paid no attention, so -intent was he on his work. Big Phil Lee, who without doubt had been -Bragdon's loudest shouter, said: "Say, Clemens, I compliment you on your -prophetic editorials. I reckon you are writing another one. You said the -convention would be harmonious, and how in the demnition bow-wows your -prophecy happened to come true nobody knows. But it did." - -"Thanks," replied Clemens, in his light-hearted jovial way, and then -looking out of the window for a moment, added: "I say, Lee, don't it -beat hell what a little clever horse sense will accomplish at times in a -political convention?" - -"What do you mean by that?" asked Big Phil, quickly. "You seem to -be posted. By gad! I think it's high time I was taken into the inner -councils myself and had the seemingly inexplainable made clear to me." - -"Search me," replied Clemens in a subdued voice, as he bit the tip of -another cigar and struck a match. "Neither Bragdon nor Carlisle has -invited me into any of their secret conferences." - -Big Phil Lee looked a bit incredulous, shook his head in a nonplussed -sort of way and said: "Well, so long, boys. I'm goin' down to the hotel -parlor where Bragdon is holding his reception. They are falling over one -another congratulating Carlisle about as much as they are Bragdon." - -As the door closed behind him, Clemens looked up from his typewriter -and said to Grant Jones, laughingly: "Say, Grant, remember what the Good -Book says?" - -"Says lots of things--what do you refer to?" asked Grant - -Clemens replied: "Blessed are the peacemakers." - -Grant Jones came over close to him and said: "Look here, Clemens." And -he fixed him with his eyes as if searching for an answer to that which -was veiled in mystery. But Clemens stood the ordeal and presently Jones -burst out laughing: "It's all right, Clemens, the _Herald_ has sure put -one over on the _Doublejack_ this time. I don't know how it was done, -and maybe I never will know. But take it from me, it was clever--damned -clever!" - -Clemens made no reply, but removing his cigar winked at Roderick -Warfield who was sitting near, puffed rings of smoke toward the ceiling -and afterwards whistled softly the air of "Wyoming," the state -song, even while he smiled the smile of a knowledge that surpasses -understanding. - -Delegates and sightseers, Republicans and Democrats, who had journeyed -to see a hotly contested nomination, ostensibly for the state senate but -really for political supremacy, were good-natured and jovial when they -started on the return trip. Big Phil Lee shouted to Earle Gemens who was -on the other stage and said: "We are such a happy family, I presume we -will return on the same road instead of dividing and horse racing." - -Clemens and the other returning passengers on the hurricane deck laughed -good-naturedly and said: "Sure, we will stick together from now on -and fight the Democrats." Presently the crowd commenced -singing vigorously--if a bunch of discordant voices could be so -described--various popular airs of the day. - -That evening a reception was given Ben Bragdon at the hotel Bonhomme in -Encampment, and the affair was presided over by W. Henry Carlisle. It -was interpreted that the breach between these two attorneys had been -effectually healed to the discomfiture of the Democrats. But no one save -and except Earle Clemens knew how it had been brought about. - -Roderick Warfield slipped away early from the scene of jubilation, and -carried the glorious news to the Shields' ranch that Ben Bragdon had -been unanimously nominated. Barbara, with the flush of radiant joy -on her face, could no longer deny the soft impeachment, and he boldly -congratulated her on her coming wedding to the senator-elect for -southern Wyoming. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVII.--THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY - - -THE following evening Roderick called at the Major's home, and found a -visitor there, a stranger yet very well known to him by reputation. This -was no other than the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the travelling -parson, of whose fame as a doer of good deeds at the cost of complete -self-sacrifice and self-denial, Roderick had often heard. - -"Delighted to see you, Roderick," said the Major. "Come right in. You -know, of course, the most noted man in the camp--the man with the saddle -bags. What? Never met yet? Well, it is a great pleasure to me to make -you two acquainted." - -After cordial greetings had been exchanged Major Hampton continued: "We -have just been discussing some of the great problems of humanity. Pardon -me, my dear friend, but I wish to say to Mr. Warfield that if I were -called upon today to name the greatest humanitarian with whom I am -acquainted I certainly should say--the Reverend Stephen Grannon." - -"You do me too much honor," interposed the parson hastily. "You -compliment me far too highly." Major Hampton went on as if the Reverend -Stephen Grannon had made no interruption: "The school of humanitarianism -is small in number, but the combined results of their labors directed -through the channels of service in the behalf of humanity bear the stamp -of greatness. The sincere lover of his fellows recognizes that the poor -of this world have borne and are still bearing the burdens of the race. -The poor have built all the monuments along the world's highway of -civilization. They have produced all the wealth from the hills and from -the soil The poor of the world have endured the hardships of conquering -the wilds and erecting outposts on the border of civilization. Indeed -they conquer everything except the fetters that bind them and hold them -as an asset of great corporate power that is heartless and soulless and -indifferent to the privations and sufferings of the individual." - -The Reverend Stephen Grannon gave it as his view that the mission of -a humanitarian was not to hinder the world's progress, nor even to -prejudice anyone against the fortune gathering of the rich, but rather -to dispell the darkness of injustice and assist the great army of the -impoverished to a better understanding of their rights as well as their -powers to conquer the evils that have throughout the ages crept into and -clung to our civilization. - -"Poverty," he remarked, "is the cause of much misery and often the -impelling motive to immorality and crime in many forms. Men often sell -and barter their votes and birthrights in this free country to bribe -givers--wily politicians--while our girls are not infrequently lured -into selling their very souls for ribbons and the gaudiness and shams of -the world." - -"What is the cure?" asked Roderick, greatly interested. - -"The cure," responded the preacher, "is the regeneration of mankind -through the leavening and uplifting power of the principles taught by -the humble humanitarian of Galilee, the great prince of righteousness." - -"Yes," chimed in Major Hampton, "the Reverend Stephen Grannon has given -you the solution for the problem. Add to this a higher education. The -more highly educated the individual," continued the Major, "the greater -the crime if they break the law." - -"But," said Roderick, "this is a free country and we have free schools. -Why do not the poor have a better education?" - -Reverend Grannon turned quickly to Roderick and replied: "You come with -me to the twenty-odd mining camps, Mr. Warfield, surrounding this -town of Encampment--come with me up in the hills where there are no -schools--see the little children growing up in carelessness because of -the impossibility on the part of their fathers and mothers to provide -them with school privileges. In the school room the teacher becomes the -overseer not alone of their studies but of their morals as well. Let -me take you down in the mines," he continued, speaking with great -earnestness, "and see the boys from twelve years to twenty-one years -working day after day, many of them never having had school privileges -and therefore unable to read or write." - -He paused for just a moment, then resumed: "It brings to my mind what -a very wise man once wrote. It was King Solomon, and among many other -splendid truths he said: 'The rich man's wealth is his strong city; the -destruction of the poor is their poverty.'" - -"Roderick," said the Major as he lit his meerschaum and blew the -smoke towards the ceiling, "my heart is very light tonight, for I have -arranged with the assistance of the Reverend Stephen Grannon to help -relieve this lamentable situation in those mining camps up in the -mountains away from school privileges. I have recently taken the -matter up with the county commissioners and have agreed to build twenty -schoolhouses. Each schoolhouse will consist of two rooms. One will be -for the smaller children during the day and also to serve as a night -school for the young men and young women who are employed in manual -labor during working hours. The other room is a library sufficiently -large and spacious to accommodate the young men of each mining -community and thus keep them away from saloons, brothels, and prize ring -attractions. One hour each evening will be taken up by a reader and a -regular course of entertaining books will be read aloud in a serial way. -The books in the library will be loaned out on tickets and the usual -library rules observed." - -"Splendid," said Roderick, "that sounds practical to me." - -"It is practical," said the Reverend Stephen Grannon, "and thanks to -Major Buell Hampton this plan which I have cherished for so many years -will soon be put into effect." - -Looking at his watch he turned to the Major and said: "By the way, -Major, I have a couple of poor families to visit tonight. I have -promised them, and they will be disappointed if I do not come." He arose -as he said this. - -"My good friend," replied Buell Hampton, "I am sorry you cannot remain -longer with us, but I would not keep you from your duties." - -The Reverend Stephen Grannon put on his top coat, as the evenings were -growing chilly, and after shaking hands took his departure. - -When he was gone and the door closed, Major Hampton turned to Roderick -and holding up one hand said reverently: "Of such is the kingdom of -heaven. In all my lifetime, Roderick, I have never known another such -splendid character. I have closely observed his work ever since I came -to this camp. Perhaps in his entire lifetime he has not collected fifty -dollars in money. He says he does not want money." - -"But he must have money to live on." - -"Above all money considerations," said the Major, looking into the -darkened corner of his living room, "he wants to save souls here on this -earth so that he will have more jewels in his crown over yonder--these -are his own words. There is not a family in the surrounding country -that he is not acquainted with. If there is sickness he is the first one -there. Where the greatest poverty abounds you will find him. He goes out -and solicits alms for those in distress, but keeps nothing for himself -excepting the frailest living. Go through the valley or up in the -mountain gorges or still farther up in the mining camps where the snow -never melts from the shady side of the log cabins, and you will find -this noble character, Reverend Stephen Grannon, doing his good work for -the poor--ministering to their wants and endeavoring to lift humanity -into higher walks, physically, morally, and spiritually." - -"I am glad you have told me all this," replied Roderick. "It increases -my already high opinion of the parson." - -"He is a veritable shepherd among the people," continued Major Hampton. -"Reverend Grannon is the true flockmaster of Wyoming. The people are -frequently unruly, boisterous, intemperate and immoral, yet he treats -them with greatest consideration and seeks to persuade and lead -them away from their sins and transgressions. Yes, he is a great -flockmaster--he is well named The Flockmaster." - -Both were silent for a few moments. Then the Major, as if suddenly -remembering something, looked up and said: "He tells me Scotty Meisch is -getting along fine over in the _Dillon Doublejack_ printing office." - -"I am glad to hear that," exclaimed Roderick. "It is good to have saved -at least one lad from going the way of those outlaws of Jack Creek. I -have never forgotten that ghastly midnight scene--the massacred sheep -and the burning herders' wagons." - -"Well, what can you expect?" asked the Major. "When the social waters -are poisoned at the fountain head, the whole course of the stream -becomes pernicious. In this state of Wyoming the standard of political -decency is not high. The people have no real leaders to look up to. The -United States Senator, F. E. Greed, sets a pernicious example to the -rising generation. He violates laws in scores of instances because of -his greed and grafting proclivities, and his bribed supporters go -on year after year supporting him. What the state needs is a leader. -High-minded leaders are priceless. Their thoughts and their deeds are -the richest legacy to a state or a community. Great leaders are beacon -lights kindled upon the mountain peaks of the centuries, illuminating -the mental and moral atmosphere of civilization. The history of the -world--of a nation, of a state and of a community--is the story of their -epochal deeds, while man's advancement is only the lengthened shadow of -their moral, spiritual and temporal examples. Leaders come up from -the crowd, from among the poor and the lowly. They are immediately -recognized by the great mass of the people and invariably crowned, -although sometimes it is a crown of thorns that they are compelled to -wear and endure for upholding priceless principles in their endeavor -to lead humanity to a higher plane. However," concluded the Major, -"the world is growing better. The nimble-fingered, tilltapping, -porch-climbing derelicts in politics and commercialism are becoming -unpopular. The reprehensible methods in all avenues of life are being -condemned instead of condoned--the goats are being cast out from among -the sheep." - -"You interest me very much, Major," said Roderick. "Your ideals are so -high, your aims so decent and right, that it is a pleasure to hear you -talk. I am a firm believer," Roderick went on, "in the justice of the -doctrine that all men are created free and equal." - -"It is a sad commentary," replied Major Hampton, "in this land where -liberty is cherished and our Government corner-stoned upon the theory -that all men are free and equal, that even the soberest of us are -compelled, my dear Roderick, to regard such affirmations as blasphemous. -To illustrate: An employee in one of the big manufacturing combinations -committed a burglary--almost petty larceny in its smallness--another -case of Jean Valjean stealing bread for his children--and yet he was -tried before an alleged court of justice and sent to the penitentiary -for ten years. The head of the same institution pillaged multiplied -millions from the poor in unjust and lawless extortions. When he was -caught red-handed in his lawbreaking, instead of sharing a prison cell -with the poor man our courts indulgently permitted this great highwayman -six months' time in which to reorganize and have legalized his methods -of stealing." - -"Such rank injustice," exclaimed Roderick, "makes my blood tingle with -indignation. It is surely high time a determined crusade was led against -the privileged classes." - -The Major made no reply but after a little, looking up from the open -grate and turning to Roderick, he asked him if he was aware that the -next day was the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Encampment -Mine and Smelting Company. - -"Oh, is it?" said Roderick. "Some time ago I noticed something in the -newspapers about the meeting, but as it was of no particular moment to -me I had forgotten it." - -"Yes," said Major Hampton, "and I guess I will now tell you that I have -been holding a secret from you." - -"That so?" exclaimed Roderick questioningly. - -"You will remember," the Major went on, "that I left you in Denver -after we made the big ore shipment and that I was away for three or four -weeks. Well, I went to New York, employed two or three big brokers down -on Wall Street, and commenced buying Encampment Mine and Smelter -Company stock on the exchange. Working jointly with a new friend I have -discovered, a professional man of finance yet a true friend of humanity, -I have absolute control of the stock today." - -"You have?" exclaimed Roderick. "You own a control of the stock in this -great smelter and the Ferris-Haggerty mine?" - -"Yes, the whole enterprise is virtually in our ownership. Well, -something is going to happen tomorrow at the stockholders' meeting which -I fear will not be pleasant to certain individuals. But duty compels me -to pursue a course I have mapped out. My chosen work in life is to serve -the poor, yet in trying to fulfill this mission I harbor no resentful -thoughts against the rich as a class nor do I intend for them any unfair -treatment." - -"If the people only knew," remarked Roderick, softly, "you are without -doubt one of the richest men in this part of the country and yet you so -honestly prefer the simple life." - -"There are two kinds of rich people," continued the Major. "One class -is arrogant and unfeeling; they hoard money by fair means or foul for -money's sake and for the power it brings. The other class use their -wealth not to oppress but to relieve the worthy poor. Personally, -Warfield, I do not regard the money which accident has made mine as -being in any sense a personal possession. Rather do I hold it as a trust -fund. Of course I am grateful. The money enlarges my opportunity to do -things for my fellows that I wish to do." - -The Major paused a moment, then resumed: "Do you remember, Roderick, -when I first told you, Jim Rankin and the others about my hidden mine -that I said there were six men in the world whom I held in highest -esteem?" - -"I remember well," assented Roderick. - -"Well, five of you were present then--Tom Sun, Boney Earnest, and Grant -Jones, with yourself and Jim. For the absent sixth one I specifically -reserved a share in my prosperity, although at the time I withheld his -name. Now you know it He is the one entitled to most consideration among -us all--the Reverend Stephen Grannon." - -"Of course he is," concurred Roderick, with hearty conviction. "He can -do more good in the world than all the rest of us together, yourself -excepted, Major." - -"At present, perhaps," said Buell Hampton. "But let his shining example -be an incentive to you all--to us all. Well, in a confidential way, I -will tell you, Roderick, that when in New York I also purchased a large -block of bonds that yields an income of something like $20,000 per -year. This income I have legally turned over with proper writings to the -Reverend Stephen Grannon, and already I think you will discover a vast -improvement in the mining camps and throughout the valleys among the -poor. For Stephen Grannon is a godly man and a true humanitarian." - -"My word, but that's great--that's grand!" murmured Roderick with -deep enthusiasm. And he gazed at Buell Hampton's noble soul-lit face -admiringly. - -The Major rose to his feet--his usual method of intimating that he -wished to be alone. Roderick grasped his hand, and would have spoken -further, but Buell Hampton interrupted him. - -"Say no more, my dear boy. I am glad that you have been interested -in what I had to say tonight. The veil was lifted and you saw me as I -am--anxious to be of benefit to my fellows. I shall indeed be proud if -you find these doctrines not merely acceptable to yourself, but in some -degree at least stimulative in your acts toward the worthy poor and -lowly as the years come and go." - -As Roderick walked slowly along the street deep in thought over Buell -Hampton's words, he came suddenly upon W. B. Grady and several well -dressed strangers at a street corner. The visitors, he surmised, were -eastern directors of the big smelting company who had come to Encampment -for the stockholders' meeting on the morrow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXVIII.--JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS - - -THE next morning at ten o'clock, Major Buell - -Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of the -directors' room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a bold -front Grady looked careworn and anxious. - -"Hold on there," he said as the Major started to enter. "What do you -want?" He spoke roughly. "This is a meeting of some gentlemen who are -interested in the Smelter." - -"Very well," said the Major. "I came down to attend the stockholders' -meeting." - -"Well, you can't go in," said Grady. "Stockholders' meetings of this -company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and gossip for -onlookers like a justice of the peace court." - -"That may all be true--I hope it is true, Mr. Grady," said the Major, -and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of anger depicted -on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical inspection. - -"I am here strictly on business," continued Buell Hampton. "I am a -stockholder." - -"You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?" - -"I have that honor," replied the Major, tersely. "Or at least I hold -powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in your -company." - -An ashen grey crept into Grady's face. - -"What do you mean?" he faltered. "You are not a shareholder of record on -our books." - -"No, but you will find as shareholders of record the names of Charles -T. Brown, George Edward Reed, Herbert Levy, Daniel W. Higbee, and a few -others about whom I need not bother." - -A new light broke over Grady. He looked more sickly than ever. - -"These are recent purchasers of stock," he said, "in New York and also, -if I remember rightly, in Iowa." - -"Precisely, and together these buyers now hold the controlling interest -in your company. Here are the legal documents constituting me the -attorney for all these men." He drew a neat little packet of papers from -the breast pocket of his coat. "In other words I am these men--I hold -the controlling power, although I did not choose to disclose the fact -until this morning. Now, will you please let me pass? Thank you." - -If a pistol had been thrust against the ribs of W. B. Grady, he could -not have looked more utterly scared. He had stepped aside to let the -Major pass and now bluff and bluster changed swiftly to sycophancy. - -"All right, Major Hampton," he said, in his most ingratiating -manner. "Walk right in and let me introduce you to some of the other -stockholders. Of course, only a few of them are here." - -The Major followed him into the directors' room and was duly presented. - -"This," said Grady with patronizing suavity, "is an old fellow townsman -of ours here in Encampment and a friend of mine. Here, Major, take this -chair," insisted Grady. "You see we are all a happy family together." - -Major Hampton could not but contrast the fawning manner of the general -manager before his superiors, the directors of the Company, with his -notoriously overbearing and insolent treatment of the workingmen. - -"Well," said the chairman, "fortunately we have a very good manager." - -"Thank you," said Grady with increased affability. - -"For myself, I am pleased and delighted at the general manager's report -which I presume it will be in order now to have read. I think we have -all seen it in advance." - -The Major shook his head in dissent but made no comment. - -Thereupon the meeting was called to order, and after the preliminaries -were concluded Mr. W. B. Grady proceeded to read a rather brief but very -interesting annual report. - -His report was not only a business summary of a most successful fiscal -year, but also abounded with more or less veiled laudations of himself -in his capacity of manager. - -Attorney Wm. Henry Carlisle, who combined with his legal position a seat -on the board of directors, advised that the election of a directorate -for the ensuing year was in order. By this time it was known to the -other shareholders present that Major Buell Hampton owned or represented -a control of the stock. This rather upset the cut-and-dried program. - -W. B. Grady, addressing the chairman, said that he presumed Major -Buell Hampton would appreciate being elected a member of the board of -directors, and if the Company's attorney, Mr. Carlisle, did not object -perhaps it would be well for him to vacate his seat so as to make room -for the new incumbent. - -Carlisle's face grew very red at this attempted slight but he said -nothing. - -Major Buell Hampton arose, and addressing the chairman said: "Since I -have acquired control of the stock of this Company, I have decided that -Mr. Grady shall not be re-elected as a director. But in the first place -I wish to ask of all stockholders present what their intentions are -regarding the declaring of a dividend?" - -With this he resumed his seat. - -By every lineament on Grady's face one could see that he was furious. - -"I presume," said the chairman, "that it would be proper to follow the -suggestion of Mr. Grady, our general manager, and declare a dividend of -seventy-two per cent on the capital stock." - -Major Buell Hampton, again addressing the chair, remarked that -seventy-two per cent, was certainly a fat dividend. But for himself -he had purchased a control of the Company's stock for the purpose of -introducing some innovations in its management, and in order that there -might be no misunderstanding he felt it was now proper to present his -views. If any of the directors were not in harmony, why, of course, it -would be inadvisable for them to stand for re-election to a directorate -over which he intended henceforth to exercise a close supervision. - -"I now wish to ask the directors of the Company this question," added -the Major. "What about Boney Earnest's dividend?" - -He paused for a reply. - -For a moment the stockholders and representatives of stockholders -present seemed almost dumfounded. They turned to the manager, Mr. Grady, -who answered the Major by saying he did not know that Boney Earnest, the -dismissed blast furnace foreman, was a stockholder or had any investment -in the concern--"it was all news to him," he added with a weak attempt -at levity. - -Major Hampton had remained standing, and by silent consent all waited -for him to reply to this statement. - -"Yes, gentlemen," he said quietly, "Boney Earnest may not be a -stockholder of record. But all the same he had his all invested in this -smelting plant. Day after day, during year after year, he stood before -the blast furnace, doing work of a class which few men could endure. It -is true he received a daily wage until the date of his dismissal, but he -had invested in addition to his daily duties almost a life-time of ripe -experience in the particular work he was doing for this concern. -In short, he had his all--his strength, his brain and his -experience--invested. In these circumstances I object," continued Major -Hampton, "to a dividend of seventy-two per cent. I notice from the -manager's report that he has made ample allowances for betterments, -replacements, and surplus, and even with all these very proper -provisions, the enormous possible dividend of seventy-two per cent, -still remains. An original capital stock of $500,000 and an annual -dividend of $360,000, certainly is a magnificent showing." - -Buell Hampton paused and all present clapped their hands gleefully, as -if the Major was coming around to their way of thinking. - -After silence was restored he proceeded: "Money is worth probably -from five per cent, to six per cent, per annum on solid, non-hazardous -investments and at least double these figures or more on mining -investments which must be regarded as extremely hazardous. It is not, -however, worth seventy-two per cent. per annum. Therefore, gentlemen, -we will declare a dividend of six per cent, on the capital stock, which -will require $30,000. We will then add the capital stock to the pay -roll. The pay roll for the last year in round numbers is $1,100,000. The -capital stock is $500,000 or a total of both of $1,600,000. We will then -declare the remaining $330,000 of earnings into a dividend on the entire -$1,600,000 of capital stock and annual pay roll combined, which amounts -to a little over twenty per cent. This will give to the shareholders of -our company's stock a little more than a twenty-six per cent, dividend." - -The Major sat down. Consternation was apparent on every countenance. - -"Major," said one of the eastern directors, "may I ask you what would -happen and what you would do in carrying out your altruistic dream if -the earnings did not amount to even six per cent, on the money actually -invested?" - -The Major arose again and with great politeness replied: "Probably -we would not declare a dividend. If we had but $30,000 that could be -legitimately applied to dividend purposes, the amount would belong to -the stockholders. But anything above this preferred dividend to the -shareholders should be declared on the annual pay roll combined with -and added to the capital stock of the company, both classes of investors -participating in the surplus over and above six per cent, preferred -dividend. The question with me," added the Major, "is this? How many of -you directors are in sympathy with the suggestion I have made?" - -There came no answer, and he continued: "A while ago I expressed myself -against your manager for a position on the directorate. I always have a -reason for my decisions. It has come to me," continued the Major, "that -while the original cost of this plant may have been $500,000 yet by -the wicked manipulation of the 'system' the original shareholders were -completely frozen out--legally robbed if you please, of their investment -and it is quite probable the Pennsylvania crowd, the present owners or -at least those who were the owners before I purchased a control, paid -very little in real money but much in duplicity and ripened experience -in the ways of the fox and the jackal. I have learned on excellent -authority that Mr. W. B. Grady, by stealth and cunning, secured the -underlying bonds from one of the former builders of this great plant, -and robbed him and left him penniless in his old age. Unless other means -of restitution be devised, the reimbursing of those stolen sums out of -my private purse will be one of my first duties and one of my greatest -pleasures." - -Grady rose, his face flushed with passion. But Buell Hampton waved -him down with his hand and calmly proceeded: "I will state another -innovation. There are seven directors who control the destinies of this -company. I now insist that the company's attorney shall be instructed to -have the by-laws so amended that the head of each department, beginning -at the mine where we extract the ore, then the tramway which carries -the ore to the smelter and all the various departments in the smelter -including the converter--shall be elected annually by the workers -themselves in each of the seven departments. In this way there will be -seven foremen; and these seven foremen shall be officially recognized by -the amended by-laws of this company as an advisory board of directors, -entitled to sit and vote with the regular directors at each monthly -meeting and likewise with the stockholders in their annual meeting." - -Had a bomb-shell been thrown into the stockholders' meeting greater -consternation could not have been evinced'. Finally Attorney Carlisle -moved that an adjournment be taken until ten o'clock the next day, at -which time the stockholders would re-assemble and further consider the -unexpected and doubtless vital questions now under consideration. The -motion prevailed. - -Of course the entire matter hinged first of all upon the election of a -directorate. During the adjournment Attorney Carlisle, peeved at Grady's -readiness to drop him from the directorate, called on Major Hampton and -assured him he was in accord with the views he had expressed and that -his every suggestion could be legally complied with by amending the -by-laws. - -Buell Hampton, however, did not take the hint implied. He was courteous -but firm. The old rgime had to go--the management must be changed, -lock, stock and barrel. Therefore there could be no further utilization -of Mr. Carlisle's services as attorney for the company. Baffled and -discomfited the lawyer withdrew. He was full of indignation, not against -Major Hampton, but against Grady, for he had warned the latter against -selling a certain block of stock to part with which had jeopardized -control of the corporation. But Grady, in need of money, had replied -that there was no risk, the buying being sporadic and the existing -directorate in high favor with the stockholders because of its ability -and readiness to vote big dividends. - -Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock -had passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, -Allen Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and -Smelter Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing -Grady and crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he -sensed the danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been -in reality for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had -been caught quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able -now to throw him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For -once the fox had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, -away from the tall timber. - -Carlisle had of late been too busy "doing politics," and had allowed -matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now the -two old-time confederates were blaming each other--Carlisle denouncing -Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding Carlisle for -neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the real buyers -of the shares being gradually transferred on the company's stock books. -The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of blocking the -transfer of power into new hands. - -When the stockholders' meeting reconvened the following morning, Major -Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the -directorate. They were--Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest -and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the -duties of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places -to be filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old -directors were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors -became a unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both -Grady and Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room. - -Major Hampton's views on corporations and dividends, and his new plan -of management for the Smelter Company spread all over the camp with -astonishing rapidity, and there was general rejoicing among the miners -and laborers. - -One employee in the smelter who had been with the company for some three -years made the discovery that, while he was receiving three dollars per -day, which meant an annual income to himself and family of $1095, his -dividend would bring him an extra lump sum of $219 annually. - -When figuring this out to his wife he said: "Think of the pairs of shoes -it will buy for our kiddies, Bess." - -And the woman, an Irishwoman, had replied: "Bless the little darlin's. -And hats and coats as well, not to speak of ribbons for the girls. God -bless the Major. Sure but he's a wonderful man." - -Several workers sitting in a corner of the Red Dog saloon were -calculating with pencil and paper their annual dividends on the already -famous Buell Hampton plan. - -"Boys," said one of them after they had their several accounts figured -to the penny, "maybe we won't make the dividend bigger next year--what?" - -"I should say," responded another. "I'll do at least twice the work -every day of the coming year, because there's now an object for us poor -devils to keep busy all the time. We're sharing in the profits, that's -just what it means." - -"There'll be a great reduction in breakage and waste," remarked another -employee. - -"The directors can leave it to us to make the next year's dividend a -dandy one." - -These were just a few of the grateful encomiums flying around. - -On the day following the stockholders' meeting the newly elected -directors convened, all except Grant Jones, who was over at Dillon and -had not yet been advised of his election. After Major Buell Hampton had -been voted into the chair a communication from W. B. Grady was read, -stating that he wished to know at once if the directors desired his -services for the ensuing year; if so he required a written contract, -and should the directors not be ready to comply with this ultimatum they -could interpret this letter as a formal resignation. There was a general -smile around the directors' table at this bluffing acceptance of the -inevitable. It was promptly moved, seconded, and carried unanimously -that Mr. W. B. Grady be at once relieved from all further connection -with the Smelter Company's plant and business. - -Major Hampton then explained that in accordance with his scheme the men -in the various departments would be invited at an early date to elect -their foremen, and these foremen in turn would have the power, not -to elect a general manager, but to recommend one for the final -consideration of the directors. Until a permanent appointment was made -he suggested that Boney Earnest, the blast furnace foreman dismissed by -the late manager because of a personal quarrel, should take charge of -the plant, he being a man of tried experience and worthy of absolute -trust. This suggestion was promptly turned into a substantive motion -and adopted by formal resolution. The meeting adjourned after Director -Bragdon in his capacity as company attorney had been instructed to -proceed immediately to the work of preparing the proper amendments to -the by-laws and taking all legal steps necessary to put into operation -the new plan. - -Thus neither mine nor smelting plant was shut down, but everything went -on without interruption and with greater vigor than before the momentous -meetings of stockholders and directors. The only immediate visible -effect of the company's radical change in policy was Grady's deposition -from the post which had enabled him to exercise a cruel tyranny over the -workingmen. - -And in the solitude of his home the dismissed manager, broken -financially although those around him did not yet know it, was nursing -schemes of revenge against Buell Hampton, the man of mystery who had -humiliated him and ousted him from power. - -Where was his henchman, Bud Bledsoe?--that was the question throbbing in -Grady's brain. But Bud Bledsoe was now an outlaw among the hills, with -a price on his head and a sheriff's posse ready at a moment's notice to -get on his heels. - -"By God, I've got to find him," muttered Grady. And that night, in the -falling dusk, he rode out alone into the mountain fastnesses. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIX.--SLEIGH BELLS - - -THE morning after the directors' meeting, when Roderick awakened and -looked out of the window, he found the air filled with flakes of falling -snow. He wasted no time over his toilet. Immediately after breakfast he -bundled up snugly and warmly, went over to the livery stable and engaged -a team and a sleigh. Soon after, the horses decorated with the best -string of sleigh bells the livery could provide, he was holding the -reins taut and sailing down through the main street of the little mining -town headed for the country. He was going to the Shields ranch. Half a -dozen invitations had been extended him during the past weeks, and he -told himself he had been neglectful of his old employer. - -When he reached the ranch and his team was duly stabled, the sleigh run -in out of the storm, he was cordially welcomed by the family before a -roaring fire of cheerfulness, and a multitude of questions were poured -upon him. - -"Why did you not come sooner and what about Major Hampton and the -smelter? We have heard all sorts of wonderful things?" - -"Why, what have you heard about the Major?" inquired Roderick, -endeavoring to get a lead to the things that had evoked such surprise. - -"I will tell you," said Barbara. "Papa heard of it the day before -yesterday when he was in town. The stockholders were having a meeting, -and people said it had turned out to the surprise of everyone that Major -Hampton was the owner of a control of the company's stock." - -"Yes," replied Roderick, "the rumor is correct. Great things have indeed -happened. But haven't you heard from Ben Bragdon?" - -"Not a word." - -"Well, I suppose he has been too busy reconstructing the by-laws and the -company's affairs generally. Major Hampton has put him in as attorney. -There's a financial plum for you, Miss Barbara." - -"And Mr. Carlisle?" she asked in great astonishment. - -"Like W. B. Grady, he is down and out," replied Roderick. "There's been -a clean sweep. And behold in me a full-blossomed member of the board of -directors. Our chairman, the Major, has handed me over a small library -of books about smelting of ores, company management, and so on. He -tells me I've got to get busy and learn the business--that I'm slated as -vice-president and assistant manager, or something of that kind. What do -you think of all that, Mr. Shields? There's a rise in the world for your -cowboy and broncho-buster of a few months ago." - -The cattle king and all the others warmly congratulated Roderick on his -rising fortunes. Dorothy now took the lead in the conversation. - -"You folks, keep still a moment until I ask Mr. Warfield just one -question," she said eagerly. - -"Oh," exclaimed Roderick, quickly, "I can answer the question. No, Grant -Jones has not been over to Encampment for quite a while." - -A general laugh followed. - -"He has a devil over at his office," added Roderick gravely. - -"A what?" they exclaimed. - -"A devil. You surely know what a devil in a printing office is? It is -a young fellow who washes the ink from the rolls and cleans the type -or something of that sort--sweeps out, makes fires and does a wholesale -janitor business. If he is faithful for fifteen or twenty years, then -he learns to set type and becomes a printer. Grant is breaking his new -devil in. Scotty Meisch, formerly one of your father's cowboys, is his -name." - -"Oh, little Scotty," exclaimed Barbara. "I remember him." - -"Well, does that necessarily keep Grant away?" asked Dorothy. - -"Oh, no, he is not necessarily kept away. He is probably a believer, -Miss Dorothy, that absence makes the heart grow fonder.' I was very -disappointed," Roderick went hurriedly on, smiling, "that Grant was -not in town to share the sleigh with me in coming over this morning. Of -course he doesn't know it yet, but he also has been elected as one of -the directors of the Encampment Mine and Smelter Company." - -"He has?" exclaimed Dorothy, her face lighting: "My word, but he'll be -all puffed up, won't he?" - -"Oh, no," replied Roderick, "Grant is a very sensible fellow and he -selects his friends and associates with marked discrimination." - -"Well, that's what I think," concurred Dorothy emphatically. - -She was not a little embarrassed by a second ebullition of general -laughter. There was a flush of rising color on her pretty cheeks. - -"Well, I don't care," she added bravely. "If I like anybody I let them -know about it, and that's all there is to be said." - -While luncheon was in progress, Roderick suggested that as the sleighing -was very good and his sleigh a very large one--the seat exceedingly -wide--the young ladies should come sleigh-riding with him in the -afternoon. - -"Splendid," shouted the sisters in unison. "Certainly, we will be -delighted provided mother has no objections." - -"Oh, no," said Mrs. Shields, good-naturedly. "This first snow of the -season makes me feel like having a sleigh-ride myself. But, there, your -seat certainly won't take four of us, and I know that Mr. Shields is too -busy to think of getting out his sleigh this afternoon." - -"Well, I'LL tell you what I'll do, Mrs. Shields," said Roderick, -stirring his coffee. "I'll take you for a ride first. We will go as far -as the river and back again, and then if the young ladies are real good -why of course I'll give them the next spin." - -"Oh, no," said Mrs. Shields, "you young people go on and have your -sleigh ride and a good time." - -"No," objected Barbara. "You shall have the first sleigh ride, Mama, and -if you don't go then Dorothy and I stay at home." - -"Come now, Mrs. Shields," urged Roderick, "accept my invitation, for -I see if you don't I shall not be able to persuade the young ladies to -come." - -"Yes, Mother," said Dorothy, "it is just lovely of him to invite you, -and certainly the sleigh ride will be invigorating. The truth is, we -girls will enjoy the ride afterwards doubly if we know you have had the -first ride of the season before we have ours." - -"Very well," said Mrs. Shields, "since you all insist, so let it be." - -Soon after Roderick's team was hitched to the sleigh and came jingling -down to the front gate. Mrs. Shields was tucked snugly in under the -robes and away they dashed with sleigh bells jingling, down the road -towards the Platte River several miles away. - -When they got back Barbara and Dorothy were in readiness, and Roderick -started away with them amid much merry laughter and promises from the -girls to be home when they got home but not before. The snow was still -falling in great big flakes and the cushion beneath the runners was soft -and thick. Mile followed mile, and it was late in the afternoon when the -sleighing party found themselves in Encampment. Roderick insisted that -the young ladies should have supper at the Hotel Bonhomme; they would -start on the return trip home immediately afterwards. - -When the sleigh drove up to the hotel, who should be looking out of the -front door but Grant Jones? He rushed outside and assisted the sisters -to alight. - -"I will be back in a few minutes," shouted Roderick, as he dashed away -to the livery stable. - -"Say, Joe," said Roderick while the horses were being unhitched, "I -will want the rig again after dinner, and Grant Jones will also want a -sleigh." - -"All right," replied the stableman. "I can fix him out all right and -everything will be in readiness. Just telephone and I'll send the rip -over to the hotel." - -At the dinner table Grant Jones was at his best. He had already heard -about the Smelter Company affairs and his own election as a director, -and waved the topic aside. It was the surprise of seeing Dorothy that -filled him with good-humor and joviality. As the meal progressed he -turned to Roderick and said: "Oh, yes, Roderick, I've just been hearing -from Scotty Meisch that during the summer months you learned to be a -great trout fisherman." - -"Yes," replied Roderick with a smile, "I certainly had a great -trout-fishing experience." - -"Where?" asked Barbara quickly. - -"On the South Fork of the Encampment River." - -"Now, Mr. Roderick Warfield," said Barbara quite emphatically, "I -invited you to go trout fishing with me a good many times, and you told -me I should be the one to teach you the gentle art. Instead of this you -go away and learn to catch trout all alone. How many did you catch?" - -Roderick reddened with embarrassment. - -"Twenty-six," he said. - -"Well, that was a pretty good catch for a novice. How big were they?" - -"About two pounds," Roderick answered, absent-mindedly. - -Grant Jones was fairly choking with laughter. "I say, Barbara," he began. - -"I didn't go trout fishing alone," interrupted Roderick quickly. - -"Look here, Barbara," persisted Grant, calling to her across the table. -But Barbara was all attention to Roderick. - -"Who went with you?" she inquired. - -"Miss Gail Holden," he replied and his face was actually crimson. - -Barbara laid down her knife and fork and leaned back in her chair, -placed her arms akimbo with her pretty hands on her slender waist line, -and looked at Roderick as if she were an injured child. Finally she -said: "Trifler!" Then everybody laughed at Roderick's confusion. - -But he quickly recovered himself. - -"Trifler yourself!" he laughed back in rejoinder. "What about Ben -Bragdon? What would he have said had we gone trout-fishing together?" - -"You were not out of the running then," said Barbara archly. - -"Oh, yes, I was, although the secret was to be kept until after the -nomination for senator." - -It was Barbara's turn now to blush. She looked around in some -bewilderment. Grant had bestowed a vigorous kick on Roderick's shins -beneath the table. Only then did Roderick realize that he had broken -a confidence. Dorothy was eyeing Grant reproachfully. It was a case of -broken faith all round. - -"Well, you sisters have no secrets from each other," exclaimed Roderick, -meeting the situation with a bright smile. "In just the same way Grant -and I are chums and brothers. Besides it was a friendly warning. I was -saved in time from the danger of shattered hopes and a broken heart, -Miss Barbara." - -"So went fishing for consolation," she replied with a smile. - -"And found it," laughed Grant. - -"Who says that?" demanded Roderick, sternly. "Miss Holden would have -every reason seriously to object." - -"The devil says it," replied Grant, assuming a grave countenance. - -"That's a poor joke," said Roderick, offended. - -"Oh, Scotty Meisch is an observant lad," remarked the editor drily. - -"The printer's devil!" cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. And all four -laughed heartily--Roderick most heartily of all despite his momentary -dudgeon. - -"Then since all these whispers are going about," remarked Barbara when -quiet was restored, "I think it will be advisable for me to have a -heart-to-heart talk with Gail." - -"Oh, please don't," faltered Roderick. "Really, you know, there's no -foundation for all this talk--all this nonsense." - -"Indeed? Then all the more need for me to drop her a friendly -warning--guard her against shattered hopes and a broken heart and all -that sort of thing." - -The tables were fairly turned, but Barbara, with quick woman's wit, saw -that Roderick was really pained at the thought lest Gail Holden might -learn of this jesting with her name. - -"Oh, don't be afraid," she said, reassuringly. "We three will keep your -secret, young man. We are all chums and brothers, aren't we now?" And -with one accord, laughing yet serious too, they all shook hands to seal -the bond, and any breaches of confidence in the past were forgiven and -forgotten. - -It had been a merry supper party, but it was now time to be starting -for the ranch. As they rose from the table Roderick turned to Grant and -said: "You will have to excuse me, old boy, as I am taking the ladies -home." - -"Taking the ladies home? Well, ain't I goin' along?" asked Grant, with a -doleful look at Dorothy. - -"No room in our sleigh," said Roderick coldly. - -"Roderick," said Grant, half sotto voce, "you are cruel." But Roderick -was unsympathetic and did not even smile. He turned away indifferently. -Drawing Barbara aside, he told her in an undertone of the arrangements -he had made with the livery stable for an extra sleigh. - -"Then you'll be alone with me," she said, with an amused smile. "Won't -you be afraid? Broken heart, etc?" - -"Not now," he replied sturdily. - -"Or of Mr. Bragdon? He mightn't like it, you know." - -"Oh, I'm not afraid of him," laughed Roderick. "And I guess he will -trust me--and you," he added gently and with a chivalrous little bow. - -Shortly the sleighs were brought round to the hotel. Grant was beside -himself with delight when he discovered the extra rig for himself and -Dorothy, and he laughingly shouted to Roderick: "I say, old man, you're -the best ever." Soon the merrymakers were tucked snugly beneath the -lap robes, and were speeding over the glistening expanse of snow to the -joyous tinkle of the silver bells. - - - - -CHAPTER XXX.--WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN - - -RODERICK WARFIELD'S election to a seat on the board of directors of -the Encampment Mine and Smelter Company had for him a series of most -unexpected consequences. He had had no knowledge that Uncle Allen -Miller and a number of his financial followers in Iowa were now large -stockholders in the corporation. Nor had he been aware that Major Buell -Hampton, after his journey to New York, had visited the Keokuk banker. -The Major had learned from his brokers in Wall Street that Allen Miller -was on the market for this particular stock and had already acquired a -considerable holding. Hence his flying business visit to Keokuk, which -had resulted in the combination of forces that had gained the control -and ousted Grady, Carlisle, and their pawns on the old directorate. - -Major Hampton had since been in continuous correspondence with the -banker, but had never for a moment associated the names of Allen Miller -and Roderick Warfield as having any possible connection by relationship -or otherwise. The selection of the new board had been left entirely -in Buell Hampton's hands after the banker had given his assent to the -profit-sharing scheme. That assent had not been won without considerable -argument. The plan upset all the banker's old theories about industrial -enterprises. At the same time the shrewd old man of finance was reading -the signs of the times, and had long since come to realize that a -readjustment of the relations between capital and labor was inevitable. -He was all the more inclined to make this experiment, in the first place -because he was not going to be bothered with the working out of -the practical details, and in the second place because the magnetic -personality of Buell Hampton had at once inspired him with confidence -both in his ability to do things and in his integrity. Therefore the -shrewd old banker had fallen in with the Major's plans, and given him -a free hand when entrusting him with the powers of attorney for himself -and the other Iowan stockholders. - -In point of fact there was another secret motive animating Allen Miller -to this line of action. Unless he cooperated with Buell Hampton, the -control would remain with W. B. Grady and his associates. And it was -Grady whom the banker was after--Grady, the financial shark who had -robbed his lifelong friend, General John Holden, of his underlying bonds -in the original and now defunct smelter company, at the time when the -amalgamation scheme had been devised to freeze out the first founders -of the enterprise. General Holden had been the chief victim of this -rapacious trick of financial jugglery, and Allen Miller was working -secretly to undo the wrong. But the banker was animated not only by -reasons of friendship. He had another incentive almost as strong. He -wanted to satisfy his keen sense of personal pride toward Roderick -Warfield. For the vital cause of quarrel between the old banker and the -youth he loved yet had disowned was the unnamed girl he had thrust upon -Roderick as a suitable bride because of her fortune. And this fortune -had been proved to be illusory on the very day succeeding the rupture -that had culminated in Roderick's fine display of scorn and anger, when -he had flung himself out of the banker's room and started off for parts -unknown to fight his own way in the world. - -It was the financial disaster which had overtaken General Holden that -had opened Allen Miller's eyes to the truth that he had been utterly -wrong in his attempted methods of managing a headstrong, and as the -old guardian had thought at the time a wayward, youth like Roderick -Warfield. He had bitterly regretted the harsh words that had dared the -offender to play football with the world and, as he now realized, had -by their sarcastic bitterness driven the high-mettled young man from his -boyhood home. He had never doubted Roderick's prowess to make a way for -himself by his own unaided efforts, and, despite the quarrel, had always -felt sure of the lad's affection. So Roderick one day would come back, -to find the latchstring hanging outside the door of his home, the -promised place in the bank still awaiting him, and--the pride and -dogged determination of the old man would not yield the point--the rich, -attractive, and in every way highly eligible bride still available. The -only flaw in the program was Gail Holden's fall from fortune, and to -repair this had been the object of the banker's continuous and strenuous -endeavor. - -He had grabbed at the chance of lending money on the Mine and Smelter -Company bonds standing in the name of W. B. Grady, which bonds he -considered were by moral right really the property of General Holden. -But he had lent discreetly, postponing any big advance while he held the -documents and nosed around for information that might give some valid -reason to dispute their ownership. And in course of time he had made one -surprising discovery. Obtaining from General Holden all correspondence -with Grady, he had found one sentence in which the sponsor for the new -amalgamation scheme had guaranteed the withdrawal of all underlying -bonds in the old smelter company before the scheme would be put through. -Yet this condition had not been complied with, for Allen Miller had, in -the course of tracing every old bond, discovered that five were still in -existence and had never been surrendered. They belonged to a widow away -back in Pennsylvania who had gone to Europe and whose whereabouts at the -time Grady apparently had not been able to ascertain. But the persistent -old banker had followed the trail and through his agents in France had -purchased this particular parcel of bonds at a high figure. They were -few in number and insignificant in face value, but to Allen Miller they -were priceless, for these underlying bonds put W. B. Grady in his power -and could be made the means eventually of compelling restitution to -General Holden of the fortune that had been filched from him. Grady -would have to make good or face the criminal charge of a fraudulent -transaction. - -Buell Hampton had been told nothing about this--it was sufficient for -Allen Miller's immediate purpose to have the company control wrested -without delay out of Grady's hands. This would render litigation easier, -perhaps avoid it altogether--the better alternative, for the law's -harassing delays and heart-sickening uncertainties are proverbial. So -when Buell Hampton had come to Keokuk in the cause of humanity, to -fight for the toilers at the smelter and in the big mine, he had been -agreeably surprised to find in the old banker such a ready listener -to his philanthropic arguments. The alliance had been struck, with -the result that Buell Hampton had been able to swing the stockholders' -meeting exactly as he desired. - -Up to the very eve of that meeting the Major had kept his counsel and -held his hand. The merest hint of the power he possessed might have -given time for so astute a knave as Grady to devise some means more or -less unscrupulous of repelling the attack. Therefore Buell Hampton had -not dropped one word of what he intended to do until he had spoken to -Roderick in his home on the night before the stockholders' meeting. -Little did either of them know at that time how vitally and directly -Roderick was interested in the outcome of the Major's fight for the -downtrodden poor. - -After the eventful meetings of stockholders and directors it had been -Buell Hampton's first duty to send a full report of the proceedings -to Allen Miller of Keokuk, whose power of attorney had enabled him to -effect the coup deposing Grady and giving a share of the profits to the -actual toilers at the furnaces and in the mine. In the course of this -report the names of the new directors were set forth. Judge of the old -banker's utter amazement when his eyes fell upon the name of--Roderick -Warfield. Surprise quickly yielded to joy and delight. The news was -telephoned to Aunt Lois. The old banker could not leave town at the -moment--an issue of city bonds required his close attention. But that -very night an envoy was dispatched to Wyoming in the person of his -bright and trusted young clerk, Whitley Adams. - -And the first of the series of surprises for Roderick Warfield, one -afternoon a few days after the sleigh ride, was the sight of his old -college chum tumbling out of a bob-sled which, in default of coaching -facilities, had brought him over from the railroad at Rawlins. Whitley -had stopped the sled in the main street along which, in the crisp -sunshine that had followed the heavy snowfall, Roderick happened to be -strolling. - -"Hello, old scout," cried the new arrival with all the ease of a veteran -globe-trotter. - -"Where in thunder did you drop from!" exclaimed Roderick, clutching at -his hand. - -"From Iowa's sun-kissed cornfields to Wyoming's snow-capped hills," -laughed Whitley, humming the tune of the hymn he was parodying. - -"What has brought you here?" - -"Lots of things. A letter for you, to begin with." - -"From whom?" - -"Your Uncle Allen Miller." - -"But he doesn't know I'm here, does he?" - -"The whole world knows you're here, dear boy," replied Whitley, pulling -the latest issue of the _Encampment Herald_ out of his pocket. "Why, -you've become famous--a director of the great smelting corporation." And -he flourished the journal aloft. - -"Who sent you that paper?" - -"Major Buell Hampton, of course. At least he sent it to your uncle." - -"Get out. You're kidding, Whitley." - -"No kidding about me, old man. Those irresponsible days are now over." -Whitley drew himself up with great dignity. "If Buell Hampton hasn't -told you that he came to Keokuk and made the acquaintance of Banker -Allen Miller, well, that's his affair, not mine. Where shall we have -dinner? I'm as hungry as a grizzly." - -"Wait a moment, Whitley. Do you mean to tell me Uncle Allen knows the -Major?" - -"Sure. They've been as thick as thieves--or rather I should say as close -as twins--Oh, that reminds me. How are dear Barbara and Dorothy?" - -"Shut up--stop your nonsense. What were you going to say?" - -"Oh, just this, that ever since the Major paid us a visit at Keokuk, -letters have been passing nearly every week between him and the banker. -I've seen all the correspondence." - -"I have known nothing about this," said Roderick, in great perplexity. - -"Well, doubtless you are not in the same confidential position as I -occupy," replied Whitley airily. "But of course now that you are a -director of the company you'll come to know--or at least should know; -that's part of your duties--that Allen Miller is a big stockholder." - -There flashed to Roderick's mind Buell Hampton's vague reference, on -the night preceding the stockholders' meeting, to some new friend, a -professional man of finance, with whom he held joint control of the -company's stock. - -"A true friend of humanity," he murmured, recalling the Major's words. -"Great Scott, that's about the last identification tag I would have -expected for Uncle Allen." - -"Well, old chap," interposed Whitley, "don't mumble in conundrums. -You take it from me that Buell Hampton and your uncle are financial -pals--associates might be the more dignified word. That's no doubt why -the Major nominated you for the board of directors." - -Roderick paled. - -"By God, if that's the case, I'll resign tomorrow. I've been standing on -my own feet here. I owe nothing to Uncle Allen." - -"There now, put all that touchy pride in your pocket, Roderick. By -jingo, you're worse than Banker Miller himself. But I took the old -gentleman down a few pegs the afternoon he learned that you were in -Wyoming," Whitley rambled on, laughing. "He declared that I must have -known your hiding place all the time." - -"And you answered?" - -"Owned up at once, of course. Told him that others besides himself could -be trusted with a confidence--that neither he nor anybody else could -have bulldosed me into betraying a client. A client--that's what I -called you, old man. Oh, you can't give me business points nowadays. -What do you think he said in reply?" - -"Ordered you out of the room, I suppose." - -"Not on your life! Commended my sagacity, my trustworthiness; told me -again that I was a born banker, one after his own heart. And to show -that he meant what he said, he raised my salary five dollars a week, and -handed me over fifty dollars extra spending money for this trip. What do -you think of that?" - -"I can't express a thought--I'm too much surprised over the whole train -of events." - -"Oh, I suppose he knew I'd have to buy a few boxes of candy for the -beautiful Wyoming girls," Whitley went on. "I had told him after my -first trip here that they were regular stunners--that they had been -buzzing about me like flies around a pot of honey. Oh, he laughed all -right. I know how to manage the old fellow--was half afraid he'd be -coming along himself instead of sending me this time. But he bade me -tell you he couldn't possibly get away from Keokuk just now. Which -reminds me--here's your letter, old man; and one, too, from Aunt Lois. -She saw me off at the train, and gave me a kiss to pass on to you." -Whitley, a bunch of letters in his hand, made a movement as if to bestow -upon Roderick the osculatory salute with which he had been entrusted. -But Roderick, smiling in spite of himself, pushed him back. - -"You irrepressible donkey: Hand over my letters." - -"Oh, yes, the letters." Whitley began to sort the bunch of -correspondence. "This is for Buell Hampton. And this is for Ben Bragdon. -I suppose he's in town?" - -"Yes. But he's pretty busy." - -"Won't be too busy to attend to me, I reckon. Then W. B. Grady"--he was -fingering a neatly folded, legal looking document "I hope that Grady -hasn't cleared out from Encampment yet." - -"Not that I've heard. In fact I saw him on the street this morning. You -seem to have business with everyone in town." - -"Just about hits it, old man. And General John Holden. Ah, yes, that -reminds me," Whitley suspended his sorting of the letters, and looked -up. "How's the college widow, old man?" - -Roderick reddened. - -"That's all off," he answered stiffly. - -"I guessed that's just what would happen. Best so, by a long chalk, So -Stella Rain is free again. Guess I'll stop off on my way home, and take -a run to Galesburg. Nice girl, you know, Stella. No saying but I might -make an impression now she is"-- - -"Stella Rain is married," interrupted Roderick, speaking sharply and -shortly. - -"You don't say? Too bad." - -"Happily married, I tell you--to some rich fellow." - -"Oh, then, she threw you over, did she? Ho, ho, ho! But that's all -right, old fellow. Saves all complications. And Gail, how's Gail? Oh, -she's a pipit pin. - -"By gad, Whitley, you shut up. Come and have your dinner. But you -haven't given me my letters yet." - -"Ah, I forgot Well this one is for General Holden. I've got to see him -at once." - -"What about?" - -"Confidential business, my friend. Ask no questions for I want to be -spared the pain of refusing you the slightest information. Great -guns, Rod, we financial men, you know, hold more secrets than a father -confessor. We've got to keep our mouths shut all the time, even to our -best friends. This is my letter of credit to your local bank--no -limit, mind you, on my sight drafts on Keokuk. Ah, yes, here are your -letters--one from Aunt Lois, the other from your old guardian. Hope he -has put a fat check inside." - -"I don't need his checks--if there's any check here, you can take it -back." And Roderick ripped open the envelope. - -But there was no offending slip of colored paper enclosed, and he thrust -both the letters unread into his pocket. - -"Now we'll dine," he said. - -"A moment, please." And Whitley turned to the driver of the bob-sled -waiting in the middle of the road. - -"Go and get your dinner, my man," he called out. "Then hitch fresh -horses in that sled, and come to my hotel, the Bonhomme; that's the best -place in town, if I remember right, Roderick," he said with a glance at -his friend. Then he continued to the driver: "Charge everything to me, -and don't be longer than a couple of hours. Now come along, Roderick. -You dine with me--oh, I have an ample expense fund. But I'm sorry I'll -have to leave you immediately after dinner." - -Roderick was overwhelmed by all this grandiloquence. He hardly dared to -take his old chum's arm as they walked along the street. But at last -he stopped, burst out laughing, and slapped the man of affairs squarely -between the shoulders. - -"Whitley, old chap, you're a wonder. You play the part to perfection." - -"Play the part?" protested Whitley, with a fine assumption of dignity. -"I _am_ the part--the real thing. I'm your rich old uncle's right -hand man, and don't you forget it. Would a little ready cash now be a -convenience?" - -Then Whitley's arm went round his comrade's neck, and with a -simultaneous whoop of laughter they passed into the hotel. - -But during the next twenty-four hours Roderick saw very little of -his college chum. And during the same period the said college chum -accomplished some very remarkable things. Immediately after dinner the -bob-sled sped out to Conchshell ranch, and General Holden signed the -legal papers that attached, as a measure of precaution, the bonds -standing in the name of W. B. Grady and now in the custody of the bank -at Keokuk as security for a loan. And for half the night Attorney Ben -Bragdon and Whitley Adams were closeted with W. B. Grady in a private -parlor of the hotel, and the fight was fought out for legal possession -of the fraudulently acquired bonds--a fight that put the issue squarely -up to Grady whether he would accept Banker Allen Miller's terms of -surrender or face a criminal charge. It was in the grey of the breaking -dawn that the vanquished Grady crept out of the hotel, wiping the beads -of cold sweat from his brow, while Whitley was quietly folding up the -properly signed transfers that gave back to General Holden bonds of -equal value to those of which he had been robbed by false pretences and -promises never fulfilled. - -In the morning Whitley was again at the Conchshell ranch, and -breakfasted with the General and his daughter. It was the latter who -bound him to secrecy--to the solemn promise that neither he nor Mr. -Bragdon should divulge to anyone the story of this restored family -fortune. Gail declared that she was going to make good with her dairy -cattle venture, that neither she nor her father wanted to return to -the old life of fashion and society at Quincy, that they had no wish to -appear as rich folks. Whitley listened to all the arguments, understood, -and promised. And that the transfer of the bonds should not be connected -with General Holden's name it was agreed that for the present they -should pass to Banker Allen Miller as family trustee. - -Whitley's chest had expanded fully two inches when he drove away, the -trusted emissary for the carrying into effect of these decrees. He had -had a few minutes alone with Gail and, introducing the name of Roderick -Warfield in a casual way, had assured her that he, like everyone else, -would know nothing about these strictly family affairs. She had blushed -a little, reiterated her thanks, and at parting had, he could have -sworn, given him an extra friendly pressure of her dainty little -fingers. - -Whitley drove straight to Ben Bragdon's office, and took the precaution -of adding to the professional seal of secrecy a direct expression from -the General of his wishes in the matter. - -During the afternoon the young banker from Keokuk personally delivered -the letter from Allen Miller addressed to Major Buell Hampton. Whitley -had insisted upon Roderick accompanying him. The relationship between -Roderick and Banker Miller was now revealed. The Major received the news -without much surprise. - -"In the loom of life," he said, with great solemnity, "the shuttle of -destiny weaves the threads of individual lives into a pattern which is -only disclosed as time goes on. Thus are the destinies of men interwoven -without their knowing either the how or the why. Roderick, my dear -fellow, from this day on we are simply more closely bound to each other -than ever." - -The evening was spent at the Shields ranch. Whitley congratulated -Barbara on her engagement to Ben Bragdon, and then took Dorothy's breath -away by congratulating her and the absent Grant Jones as well. - -Dorothy blushed furiously, and disowned the soft impeachment; to which -Whitley replied that unless her sweetheart got busy promptly and toed -the line, he himself was coming back to Encampment to cut out so tardy a -wooer. "Tell Grant Jones from me," he said, "that it's taking chances to -leave the tempting peach upon the tree." She slapped his hand playfully -for his audacity, and Roderick hurried the flippant financier out of the -room. - -At midnight, in the bright moonlight, Whitley departed for Rawlins to -catch his train. Nothing could persuade him to prolong his visit--Banker -Miller would be hopping around like a cat on hot bricks, the bank going -to wreck and ruin if he did not hurry back, the girls of Keokuk growing -quite jealous of the beauties of Wyoming. - -Like a whiff of sweet perfume the joyous youth was gone. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXI.--RODERICK'S DISCOVERY - - -NOTWITHSTANDING their change in fortunes, - -Roderick and Grant still made the editor's shack their home--the old -place endeared to them by many fond associations. A few days after -Whitley Adams' visit they were seated at the breakfast table, and Grant -had proposed that they should go deer hunting. - -"Excellent weather," he explained, "as the snow is just deep enough -up in the mountains to drive the deer down. Finest sport in the world. -Nothing like going after big game." - -"You almost persuade me," said Roderick, setting down his coffee and -looking at Grant with increased interest. "All the same I hate to leave -the smelter plant even for a day or two. You see I'm just beginning to -get a hang of the business, and I've quite made up my mind to master -it." - -"Oh, let it rip. You're not tied down to the works, are you?" - -"Certainly not--you don't imagine I think myself qualified as yet to be -tied down. 'But what about guns?" - -"Oh, well," said Grant, "I have a.32 Winchester, one that has got a -record too, by gunnies, as Jim Rankin would say. Its record is great." - -"How big a record?" inquired Roderick. - -"Seven deer," answered Grant. - -"All your own killing?" - -"Well, no. To be downright truthful since you force me to particularize, -I'll admit I never killed but one deer with it. But that does not -interfere with the gun's record." And then he continued: "I have no -doubt Major Hampton will be delighted to loan you his gun. He has a .30 -calibre Government Springfield and in his hands it has accounted for -many a buck." - -After breakfast they called on Major Hampton. - -"Good morning, gentlemen," said the Major as he opened the door and bade -them welcome. - -"We are going deer hunting," said Grant, quite enthusiastically. "I have -a gun, but this-would-be-slayer-of-big-game, Roderick, is gunless and -when we return he may be deerless. Was just wondering, Major, if you -would care to loan your famous deer killer to him. Guess its long -record," he added, "would fill a book." - -"Why, certainly," replied the Major in an absent-minded way; and then -presently he went on: "Do not interpret my hesitation as unwillingness -to accommodate you. It is well you came just when you did, for within -half an hour I myself will be starting for the mountains and my mind was -pre-occupied with my own little preparations." - -"Can't you come with us, Major?" asked Grant. - -"But I won't be depriving you of your gun?" enquired Roderick -simultaneously. - -"I answer 'no' to both questions," was the smiling response. "I am going -out on one of my lonesome excursions--to commune with Nature face to -face for a brief spell. And when I go I need no rifle--even the very -deer there are my trustful friends." - -Then turning he took down his rifle from its accustomed place and -brought it over to Roderick. - -"This old Springfield has served me well," he said, smiling in his own -magnificent way. "It was my friend in dark days of need. In my lifetime, -gentlemen, I have never spilled the blood of any living thing wantonly, -and I do not believe man is justified in taking the life of even a worm -on the pathway, a rabbit in the hills, cattle or sheep in the fields, or -a deer in the wilds unless it is for food and to sustain life." - -Then suddenly looking at Grant the Major said: "I understand W. R. Grady -is up in the hills?" - -"Yes, so I have heard." - -"What is he doing? Looking for a mine?" - -"Possibly. They say he is at the Thomas Boarding House most of the time -up at Battle." - -"Guess," interrupted Roderick, "that he is not very happy since the new -order of things--your new plan, Major--put him out of business." - -"Perhaps he is getting in touch again with his old heeler, Bud Bledsoe," -suggested Grant. "That outlaw gang has been lying low for quite a while, -but I'm expecting to hear about some new bit of deviltry any day. Am in -need of a corking good newspaper story." - -"Well, since you are bent on hunting big game," laughed the Major, -"these miscreants might provide you with all the exciting sport you are -wanting." - -"Oh, a brace of good fat bucks will be good enough for us. Where's the -likeliest place to start from, Major? You're the local authority on -these matters." - -"You know where Spirit River Falls are?" asked Buell Hampton. - -"I've heard of them but have never been there," replied Grant. - -"I think that I've seen them from above," observed Roderick, "but I -don't know the way to them." - -"Well, you know where Gid Sutton's half-way house is located?" - -"Certainly," replied Roderick. "I was there less than a month ago." - -"Well, Spirit River Falls are located about six or seven miles south -and east of the half-way house. I advise that one of you go up the South -Fork of the Encampment River and the other keep to the right and go over -the hills past Conchshell ranch into a park plateau to the south; then -have your meeting place this evening in an old log structure that you -will find about three-fourths of a mile directly through the timber -southeast from the falls. If you are wise, you will load up two or three -burros, send them with a trusty, and have him make camp for you in this -old deserted hut. You will find a cup of coffee, a rasher of bacon and -a few sandwiches very appetizing by the time you have tramped all day in -your deer-hunting quest And the country all around is full of deer." - -The young men thanked him warmly for his advice. - -"In point of fact," continued Buell Hampton, "I'll be up in the same -region myself. But I'm travelling light and will have the start of you. -Moreover, we can very easily lose each other in that rugged country -of rocks and timber. But don't mistake me for a buck, Roderick, if you -catch sight of my old sombrero among the brushwood;" saying which he -reached for the broad-brimmed slouch hat hanging against the wall. - -"I'll take mighty good care," replied Roderick. "But I hope we'll run up -against you, Major, all the same." - -"No, you won't find me," answered Buell Hampton, with a quiet smile. -"I'll be hidden from all the world. Follow the deer, young men, and the -best of luck to you." - -The two comrades started away in high feather, anticipating great -results from the tip given them by the veteran hunter. Going straight to -the livery bam, they rigged out three burros, and sent with them one -of the stablemen who, besides being a fairly good cook, happened to -be familiar with the trail to Spirit River Falls, and also knew the -location of the "hunter's hut" as they found the old log structure -indicated by Buell Hampton was locally named. - -These arrangements concluded, Roderick and Grant started for the hills. -Some half a mile from Encampment they separated--Jones going along -the east bank of the South Fork of the Encampment River and Roderick -following the North Fork until he came to Conchshell canyon. The day was -an ideal one for a deer hunt. There was not a breath of wind. The sky -was overcast in a threatening manner as if it were full of snow that was -liable to flutter down at the slightest provocation. - -As Roderick reached the plateau that constituted the Conchshell ranch he -concluded to bear to the left and as he said to himself "Keep away -from temptation." He was out hunting wild deer that day and he must not -permit himself to make calls on a sweet-throated songster like Gail. On -through the open fields and over the fences and into a thick growth of -pines and firs, where he plodded his way through snow that crunched and -cried loudly under his feet Indeed the stillness of everything excepting -his own walking began to grate on his nerves and he said to himself that -surely a whitetailed deer with ordinary alertness could hear him walking -even if it were half a mile away. - -As he trudged along mile after mile he was very watchful for game or -tracks, but nothing stirred, no trace of deer was discernible in any -direction. He was following the rim of a hill surmounting some boxlike -canyons that led away abruptly to the left, while a smooth field or park -reached far to the right where the hills were well covered with timber. -Here and there an opening of several acres in extent occurred without -bush or shrub. - -It was perhaps one o'clock in the afternoon and he was becoming a bit -leg-weary. Brushing the snow away from a huge boulder he seated -himself for a short rest. Scarcely had he done so than he noticed that -occasional flakes of snow were falling. "More snow," he muttered to -himself, "and I am a good ways from a cup of coffee if I am any judge." - -After he was rested he got up and again moved on. Just then, as -he looked down into a box canyon, he saw three deer--a doe and two -half-grown fawns. Quickly bringing his gun to his shoulder his first -impulse was to fire. But he realized that it would be foolish for -the animals were at least five hundred yards away and far below the -elevation where he was standing. - -"No," he said to himself, "I will leave the rim of this mountain and get -down into the canyon." - -He hastily retreated, and took a circuitous route intending to head off -the deer. In due time he approached the brow of the precipitous bluff -and after walking back and forth finally found a place where he -believed he could work his way down into the canyon. It was a dangerous -undertaking--far more so than Roderick knew--and might have proved his -undoing. - -He was perhaps half way down the side of the cliff, working his way back -and forth, when suddenly some loose stones slipped from under his feet -and away he went, sliding in a sitting position down the side of the -mountain. He had sufficient presence of mind to hold his gun well away -from him to prevent any possible accident from an accidental discharge. -The cushioning of the snow under him somewhat slowed his descent, yet he -could not stop. Down and down he went, meeting with no obstruction that -might have given him a momentary foothold. Presently he saw, to his -great relief of mind, that he was headed for a small fir tree that had -rooted itself on a ledge near the bottom of the canyon. A moment later -his feet came thump against its branches, and while the jar and shock of -suddenly arrested motion were very considerable yet they were not enough -to be attended with any serious consequences. - -Somewhat dazed, he remained seated for a few moments. But soon he found -his footing, and pulling himself together, brushed away the snow from -his apparel and made sure that his gun was all right. After a glance -around he picked his way down some distance farther into the canyon, and -then turning to the right along a little ledge started in the direction -where he expected to sight the deer higher up the hill. - -Suddenly he stopped. There were the deer tracks right before him going -down the gorge. - -"By George," he muttered aloud, "I did not get far enough down. However, -I will follow the tracks." And forthwith he started on the trail, -cautiously but highly expectant. - -The direction was westerly, but he had not gone far until the canyon -made an elbow turn to the south and then a little farther on to the -east. "I wonder," said Roderick to himself, "what sort of a maze I am -getting into. This canyon is more crooked than an old-fashioned worm -fence or a Wyoming political boss." - -The box canyon continued to grow deeper and the rocky cliffs higher, -zig-zagging first one way and then another until Roderick gave up all -pretense of even guessing at the direction he was travelling. - -"Strange I have never heard of this narrow box-canyon before," he -thought. - -After walking briskly along for about an hour, keeping the tracks of the -retreating deer in view, he suddenly came to an opening. A little valley -was spread out before him, and to his amazement there were at least a -hundred deer herded together in the park-like enclosure. - -Roderick rubbed his eyes and looked up at the high and abrupt precipices -that surrounded this open valley on every side. It seemed to him that -the walls rose sheer and almost perpendicular several hundred feet to -the rocky rim above. He followed on down, filled with wonderment, and -presently was further astonished by finding several great bubbling -springs. Each basin was fully a hundred feet across, and the agitated -waters evidently defied freezing, for they fairly boiled in their -activity, overflowing and coming together to form quite a big tumbling -mountain stream. - -Stealthily following on and keeping the great herd in view he mentally -speculated on the surprise he would give Grant Jones when he came to -display the proofs of his prowess as a hunter of the hills. Surely -with his belt full of cartridges and the large number of deer in sight, -although as yet too far away to risk a shot, he could add several -antlered heads to Grant's collection. The stream grew larger. There were -a number of other springs feeding their surplus waters into brooks which -eventually all joined the main stream, and he mentally resolved that the -next time Gail and he went trout-fishing they would visit this identical -spot. He laughed aloud and asked the question: "Will she be mine so that -we may come together for a whole week into this beautiful dell?" - -The farther he advanced the less snow he found in the strange, -rock-fenced valley. The grasses had grown luxuriantly in the summer -season, and the deer were browsing in seeming indifference to his -presence yet moving on away from him all the time. He began wondering -if all this were a mirage or a reality. He looked a second time at the -slowly receding herd and again he laughed aloud. "Such foolishness," -he exclaimed. "It is an absolute reality, and right here I will make my -name and fame as a hunter." - -He stopped suddenly, for just across the stream, standing among the -boulders and pebbles of an old channel, were four deer, not two hundred -feet away. They were looking at him in mild-eyed wonder, one of them a -noble, splendidly antlered buck. Lifting the Major's Springfield to his -shoulder Roderick sighted along the barrel and fired. Three of the deer -ran away. But the buck jumped high into the air, attempted to climb the -opposite bank, failed and fell backward. - -Hurriedly crossing over the stream and slipping in his excitement off -the stones into knee-deep water, he came quickly up to the wounded deer. -Instantly the animal bounded to his feet, but fell again. Roderick fired -a second shot which reached a vital spot. The magnificent denizen of -the hills had been vanquished in the uneven contest with man's superior -knowledge and deadly skill. - -The novice in huntsman's craft had received all sorts of book -instructions and verbal explanations from Grant Jones. So he at once -drew his hunting knife, thrust it into the jugular vein of the dying -deer, and bled him copiously. Only the hunter knows the exultant -feelings of mingled joy and excitement that possessed Roderick at that -moment. His first deer! Resting the gun against a small cottonwood -tree that grew on a raised bank between the old channel and the flowing -waters, he walked to the stream, washed the crimson from his knife, and -returned the weapon to its sheath. - -Then he looked around to get his bearings. He knew he had come with -the waters from what seemed to be a westerly direction. The stream was -evidently flowing toward the east. As he walked along in the old channel -over the sandbar he kicked the rocks and pebbles indifferently, and then -stopped suddenly, gasped and looked about him. - -On every side the mountains rose precipitately fully six or seven -hundred feet. There was no visible outlet for the stream. - -"Is it possible," he exclaimed with bated breath, "that I am in the -lost canyon? And this," he said, stooping down and picking up a nugget -of almost pure gold--"is this the sandbar on which my father and Uncle -Allen Miller found their treasure yeans and years ago? Marvelous! -Marvelous! Marvelous!" - -For the moment the slain deer was forgotten. His achievement as a hunter -of big game no longer thrilled him. He was overwhelmed by a mightier -surge of emotion. - -"Yes," he said finally in a low voice of conviction, "this at last is -the lost find!" - -And he sank down on the gold-strewn pebbly sandbar, limp and helpless, -completely overcome. - -A minute later he had recovered his composure. He stood erect He -gazed down the valley. The startled herd of deer had vanished into the -brushwood and low timber. - -But there, slowly ascending along the river bed, was the figure of Buell -Hampton. Roderick stood stockstill, lost in amazement, waiting. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXII.--STAKING THE CLAIMS - - -SO IT is you who have found my Hidden Valley," said Buell Hampton -as he drew near. His voice had a regretful ring, but as he grasped -Roderick's hand he added cordially: "I thank God it is you, Roderick. -When I heard the rifle shots I was afraid it might be Bud Bledsoe or -some of his gang." - -"Your hidden valley, Major?" murmured Roderick, interrogatively and with -emphasis on the first word. - -"Yes, my son--the valley from which I took the carload of rich ore we -sold in Denver." - -"Great guns, Major. I too have discovered gold--placer gold." - -"Where?" - -"At your feet. Look." And Roderick stooped and picked up a fine -smooth-worn nugget as big as a pigeon's egg. "Look, look, look," -continued Roderick. "It is all around us on this sandbar." - -"I did not happen on this spot," said Buell Hampton. "The fact is I -hardly explored the valley at all. I had all the gold I wanted or could -ever want in my own find." - -"Then where is that find?" - -"Lower down the stream--a dyke of porphyry and white quartz. But you -already know the kind of ore Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney Earnest -helped me to get out of the valley. It is quite different from your -gold." - -The Major stooped, and collected a handful of good-sized nuggets. - -"How did you come to find this place, Roderick?" he asked, gazing up at -the sheer cliffs around them. - -"I have been searching for it," he replied, "since ever I came to -Wyoming. Oh, Major, it is a strange story. I hardly know where to begin. -But wait. Sit down on that boulder. I have my father's letter with me. -You can read it and will then understand." - -From an inner pocket Roderick produced the map and letter which had -never left his possession, night or day, since his Uncle Allen had -handed him the sealed packet in the bank manager's room at Keokuk. -Without a word Buell Hampton took the seat indicated, and after a -preliminary glance at the map proceeded to read the long epistle left -by the old miner, John Warfield, as a dying legacy to his son. Roderick -sitting on his heels watched in silence while the other read. - -"Your father was a sensible man," remarked Buell Hampton, as at last he -refolded the paper. "I like the spirit in which he wrote--the fervent -expression of his hope that this wealth will prove a blessing to you -instead of a disquieting evil. Yes, you have undoubtedly found your -father's lost mine. But, Roderick, why did you not tell me of this -before? I would have gladly helped you to a quicker discovery. This map -here I would have recognized at a glance as the map of my happy retreat, -my Hidden Valley." - -"Well, Major, I may seem to have been a bit reticent--or independent, -may I call it? But you will remember that it was early in our intimacy -when you showed me and the others those rich ore specimens in your -home. And you yourself were reticent--bound us to secrecy, yet gave us -no-single clue as to the whereabouts of your wonderful discovery." - -"Because I wanted to protect this place from intrusion--I indulged in -the dream that the treasure of the valley might be made to fall only -into worthy hands, which dream could never be realized unless I guarded -my secret from one and all." - -"Your sentiment I quite understand. But don't you see, Major, it was -this very reticence on your part that made me reticent--that virtually -sealed my lips? I have often thought of showing you my father's letter, -of telling the full reasons that brought me to Wyoming. But to have done -so after you had shown us that ore would have been simply to press you -for further information--to have asked you to divulge the location of -your mine which you had resolved to keep secret so that I might possibly -be assisted in the quest for my father's lost claim. I couldn't do that -I am sure you will now understand my feelings." - -"Fine feelings, Roderick," exclaimed the Major, extending his hand. -"Feelings after my own heart I understand them, and can only compliment -you on your sturdy independence. But how did you get here?" And again -he glanced up the precipitous mountains. - -"Well, I think I might almost say I tumbled down into the canyon," -laughed Roderick. "I slipped and tobogganed down a steep slope. Then I -followed the tracks of four deer I was after, and found myself here. -By the way, have you looked at my splendid buck?" - -Buell Hampton rose, and as if by force of habit drew his hunting knife -and proceeded to dress and gambrel the deer. Roderick watched the -skilled hands at work. Before many minutes the carcass was hanging on -the peg of a broken limb. - -"Certainly, a fine buck," remarked the Major, stepping back admiringly. -"Your first, I believe?" - -"My very first." - -"Not often that a man kills his first deer and discovers a gold mine on -the same day, eh?" laughed Buell Hampton. "But where is Grant Jones?" - -"I haven't seen him since morning. We followed your directions, and took -opposite sides of the river." - -"Then he will meet you tonight at the old log hut?" - -"That's our arrangement. But how are we to get out of this box-canyon?" - -"I can show you an easier way out than the toboggan slide by which you -came in," replied the Major, smiling. "At the same time I think I should -prefer to follow your tracks, so that in the future I may know -this second means of access. I am afraid the secret of this little -sequestered valley can be no longer kept from the world. I presume you -are going to stake out a claim and record it." - -"You bet," laughed Roderick. "There's no sentiment about sequestered -valleys or happy retreats in my make-up. Great Scott, there's a cool -million dollars of gold lying around right here. I'm going to take -no chances of the next man finding the spot. Isn't that common sense, -Major?" - -"No doubt," replied Buell Hampton, "it is common sense in your case. And -you are obviously following your father's bidding in making the fullest -and the best use of the wealth he tried so long in vain to rediscover. -Are you familiar with the regulations as to staking out a claim?" - -"Oh, yes, I've posted myself on all that." - -"Well, choose your ground, and I'll whittle your stakes." He rose and -again unsheathed his hunting knife. - -"Major," cried Roderick, "along this old channel there's at least three -men's ground. We'll stake for you and for me and for Grant Jones." - -"But Grant Jones must have been on his claim before he can file on it. -That's the law." - -"We'll bring him down tomorrow morning." - -"Then, go ahead," said the Major. "I think it is right and proper to -secure all the ground we can. I believe it will be all for the best that -it should be in our hands." - -Within an hour stakes had been placed at the corners of the three placer -claims, and the proper location notices, written on leaves torn from -Buell Hampton's note book, affixed to a stake in the centre of each -claim. - -"I think that this complies with all legal requirements," remarked the -Major, as they surveyed their workmanship. "Now, Roderick, tit for tat. -You will come down the valley with me, and we shall secure, as lode -claims, the porphyry dyke from which I have cut out merely the rich -outcrop." - -Another hour's labor saw the second task completed. - -They were back at Roderick's sandbar, and had filled their pockets with -nuggets. - -"Now for the ascent," said Buell Hampton. "Tomorrow morning we shall -return, and breakfast here on your venison. Hurry up now; the evening -shadows are already falling." - -The trail left by Roderick and the four deer through the canyon and -along the _zigzag_ gash in the mountains above the bubbling springs was -clearly traceable in the snow. When the narrow ledge by which Roderick -had descended into the gorge was reached the Major took the precaution -of blazing an occasional tree trunk for future direction. Progress was -easy until they reached the abrupt declivity down which the hunter had -slipped. A little farther along the deer appeared to have descended -the steep incline by a series of leaps. In the gathering dusk it was -impossible to proceed farther; steps would have to be cut or a careful -search made for some way around. - -"We must go back," said Buell Hampton. "Now I will show you my means of -access to the canyon--one of the most wonderful rock galleries in the -world." - -Retracing their footsteps they hastened along at the best speed -possible, and soon reached the tunnel into which the river disappeared. -Producing his electric torch, the Major prepared to lead the way. He -lingered for just a moment to gaze back into the canyon which was now -enveloped in the violet haze of eventide. - -"Is it not lovely?" he murmured. "Alas, that such a place of perfect -peace and beauty should come to be deserted and despoiled!" - -Roderick was fingering the slugs of gold in his pocket. He followed the -direction of the Major's eyes. - -"Yes, it is all very beautiful," he replied. "But scenery is scenery, -Major, and gold is gold." - -The little torch flashed like an evening star as they disappeared into -the grotto. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick had gazed up the canyon. - -But they had failed to observe two human forms crouched among the -brushwood not fifty yards away--the forms of Bud Bledsoe and Grady, who -had that morning tracked the Major from his home to the falls, under the -cataract, through the rock gallery, right into the hidden canyon, intent -on discovering the secret whence the carload of rich ore had come, bent -on revenge for Grady's undoing with the smelting company when the proper -moment should arrive. - -That night Buell Hampton, Roderick Warfield, and Grant Jones supped -frugally at the hunter's hut on ham sandwiches and coffee. Down in -Hidden Valley on the gold-strewn sandbar W. B. Grady and his henchman -feasted royally on venison steaks cut from the fat buck Roderick's -gun had provided. They had already torn down the location notices and -substituted their own. And far into the night by the light of their camp -fire the claim-jumpers searched for the nuggets among the pebbles and -gathered them into a little heap, stopping only from their frenzied -quest to take an occasional gulp of whiskey from the big flask without -which Bud Bledsoe never stirred. When daylight broke, exhausted, -half-drunk, both were fast asleep beside the pile of stolen gold. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIII--THE SNOW SLIDE - - -DURING the night a few flakes of snow had fallen--just the flurry of -a storm that had come and tired and paused to rest awhile. The morning -broke grey and sombre and intensely still; the mantle of white that -covered the ground and clung to bushes and tree branches seemed to -muffle every sound; the atmosphere was clear, but filled with brooding -expectancy. - -The three friends at the hunter's hut were early astir. Roderick, -despite the fact that fortune had at last smiled and crowned with -success the prolonged quest for his father's lost mine, was strangely -oppressed. Buell Hampton, too, was grave and inclined to silence. But -Grant Jones was gay and happy, singing blithely during the preparations -for breakfast. - -On the previous night he had received the story of the find with -exultant delight. With such a rich mining claim all the ambitions of his -life were about to be realized. He would buy out his financial partners -in the _Dillon Doublejack_ and publish it as a daily newspaper--hang -the expense, the country would grow and with it the circulation, and he -would be in possession of the field against all-comers. Then again he -would acquire the _Encampment Herald_ although keeping on the brilliant -Earle Clemens as editor; also start another paper at Rawlins, and in -a little time run a whole string of journals, like some of the big -newspaper men whose names were known throughout the nation. Listening -to these glowing plans as they drank their morning coffee around the -campfire, Roderick and the Major could not but admire the boyish gaiety -of this sanguine spirit. - -"I'm going to propose to Dorothy tomorrow," exclaimed Grant by way of -grand finale to his program of great expectations, "and the Reverend -Stephen Grannon will marry us before the week is out We'll spend our -honeymoon in Chicago so that I can buy some new printing presses and -things. Then we'll be back in time to bring out a grand mid-winter -number that will make all Wyoming sit up and take notice. By gad, boys, -it's great to be a newspaper editor." - -"Better to be a newspaper proprietor," laughed Roderick. - -"Or both combined," suggested the Major. - -"There you've hit it," cried Grant. "And that's just the luck that has -come my way at last--thanks to you, Roderick, old scout, and to you, -Major, as well." - -"No, no," protested Buell Hampton. "With your happy disposition and -great capacity for work, success was bound to be yours, my dear fellow. -The manner of its coming is a mere detail." - -"That's the way a good friend cloaks good deeds," replied Grant. -"However, we'll let it go at that. Pass the frying pan please; this -bacon's just fine." Plans for the day were carefully discussed. The man -in charge of the burros had not been taken into their confidence; as a -member of the expedition he would be properly looked after later on, -but meanwhile strict secrecy was the only wise policy until the location -papers had been properly filed at the county seat, Rawlins. This -filing would undoubtedly be the signal for a rush of all the miners and -prospectors within a hundred miles of the little treasure valley among -the hills. - -"Yes, there will be a regular stampede," remarked the Major--"provided -the snow holds off," he added with a glance at the grey canopy of cloud -overhead. - -"I think we are in for another storm," said Grant, gazing around. "If -so, the whole country will be sealed up until the spring." - -"Which is not the worst thing that might happen," commented Buell -Hampton. - -"Would certainly give us ample time to make all our arrangements for the -future," concurred Roderick. - -It was agreed that they would take with them that morning the sacks in -which the provisions had been brought up, and bring back as much gold -as they could carry. For a moment Grant and Roderick discussed the -advisability of leaving their guns behind. But there were outlaws among -the mountains, and it was deemed prudent to carry the weapons. - -All preparations were now completed, and a start was made, the stableman -being left in charge of the camp with instructions to have a good fire -of embers ready for the brisket of venison they would return with about -the noontide hour. - -Buell Hampton led the way at a swinging gait, - -Roderick followed, then came Grant Jones singing lustily: - - "As I was coming down the road, - - Tired team and a heavy load, - - I cracked my whip and the leader sprang - - And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue." - -A little way down the hill Grant called a halt He had discovered on the -light dusting of overnight snow the tracks of a big bear, and for the -moment everything else was forgotten. Bear-hunting to him was of more -immediate interest than gold-hunting, and but for the restraining hand -of Buell Hampton the ardent young sportsman would have started on the -trail. - -"Let's stop a while," he pleaded. "Just look at those pads. A great big -cinnamon bear--a regular whale." - -"No, no," said the Major decisively, again glancing at the sky. "We must -press on." - -"I'd like a hug all right," laughed Roderick, "but not from a cinnamon -bear in a snowdrift." - -"Gee, but I'm sorry I left my dogs at Dillon," remarked Grant -regretfully. "The last thing I said to Scotty Meisch was to look after -the dogs even if the printing press burned. There's no friend like a -good dog, Major." - -"Rather a doubtful compliment," replied Buell Hampton with a smile. - -"Present company always excepted," laughed the editor adroitly. "Well, -well; we must let Mr. Bruin go this time. Lead on, Macduff, lead on." - -And again as he fell into Indian file he sang his song. - -The lilt and the words of that song, the picture of the stalwart figure -in the pride of young manhood carolling gaily while marching along -through the brushwood and down the timbered hillside, were des-tined -never to fade from the memory of Roderick Warfield. With a sob in his -heart he would recall the scene many and many a time in the days to -come. - -Meanwhile at the camp fire in Hidden Valley, Grady and Bud Bledsoe were -also afoot. They had awaked from their half drunken slumber, chilled to -the very marrow of their bones. Even the sight of the heap of nuggets -could not at first restore warmth to their hearts. There was no whiskey -left in the flask--not a drain. Their teeth chattering, they piled fresh -brush on the camp fire, and then a half-rotted tree stump that soon -burst into flame. Then when warmth at last crept through their frames, -they too made their plans for the day. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick Warfield might come back. Perhaps they had -camped all night in the mountain cave. In any case it would be safer -to leave the canyon by the other way--by the trail along which Roderick -must have entered and which was quite clearly defined in the snow as it -led up the gorge. Yes; they would clear out in that direction, and Bud -Bledsoe, who knew every track among the mountains, further proposed that -they would then cross the range and take the west road to Rawlins. With -a price on his head he himself could not enter the town--although a -little later some of the new-found gold would square all that, for the -present he must lie low. But he would guide Grady on the way, and the -latter would get into Rawlins first and file the location papers without -anyone at Encampment knowing that he had made the trip. - -"That's the dope," cried Bud Bledsoe, as he jumped to his feet and began -stuffing his pockets to their fullest capacity with the big and little -slugs of gold. Grady followed his example. Then both men took up their -guns, Bledsoe also the light but strong hair lariat which was his -constant companion whether he was on horse or foot, and began making -their way up the canyon, following the well-trodden path through the -snow along which Buell Hampton and Roderick had retraced their footsteps -the evening before. - -It was a couple of hours later when the Major, Grant Jones, and Roderick -emerged from the grotto. - -"Good heavens!" exclaimed the Major. "Look there!" And with extended arm -he pointed to the ascending smoke of the camp fire higher up the valley. - -With the caution of deerstalkers they ascended by the stream. They -found that the camp fire was abandoned. The half-gnawed bones, the empty -whiskey flask, the remnant heap of nuggets, the hollows on the sand -where the two men had slept--all helped to tell the tale. The names on -the substituted location papers completed the story--W. B. Grady's name -and those of some dummies to hold the ground, illegally but to hold it -all the same. Bud Bledsoe, the outlaw, had not ventured to affix his own -name, but the big whiskey bottle left little doubt as to who had been -Grady's companion in the canyon overnight. - -The miscreants had departed--the tracks of two men were clearly shown -at a little distance from those left by Roderick and the Major. They had -ascended the gorge. - -"We have them trapped like coyotes," declared the Major, emphatically. - -"I'm not so sure about that," remarked Grant Jones. "If there is one man -in this region who knows the mountain trails and mountain craft it is -Bud Bledsoe. He'll get out of a box canyon where you or I would either -break our necks to a certainty or remain like helpless frogs at the -bottom of a well. Then I've got another idea--a fancy, perhaps, but -I--don't--just--know." - -He spoke slowly, an interval between each word, conning the chances -while he prolonged his sentence. - -"What's your idea?" asked Roderick. But the Major waited in silence. - -At last Grant's face lighted up. - -"Yes, by jingo," he cried, "that may be their plan. If they can get over -the range on to the Ferris-Haggerty road they may make Rawlins by the -western route. That's why they may have gone up the canyon instead of -returning by the cave. For they came in by the cave; it is you they -followed yesterday, Major, into the valley. The tracks show that." - -"I have already satisfied myself on that point," replied Buell Hampton. -"I have no doubt, since we balked Bledsoe in his previous attempt, that -he has been on my tracks ever since, determined to find out where I got -the rich ore. But it surprises me that a man in Grady's position should -have descended to be the associate of such a notorious highwayman." - -"Oh, moral turpitude makes strange bedfellows," said Grant, pointing to -the depressions where the two claim-jumpers had slept "But there is no -use in indulging in conjectures at the present time. I've a proposal to -make." - -"Let us hear it," said the Major. - -"Luckily I brought my skis with me, strapped to one of the burros. -Didn't know when they might come handy amid all this snow. Well, I'll go -back to the hut, and I'll cut across the range, and will intercept these -damned robbers, if that's their game, to a certainty." - -"Rather risky," remarked Buell Hampton. "Feels like more snow." And he -sniffed the ambient air. - -"Oh, I'll be all right. And you've got to take risks too. I'll give -Roderick my rifle, Major, and you take your own. You can follow the -trail of these men, and if they have got out of the canyon, then you -can get out the same way too. If so, we'll all meet on the range above. -Roderick, you know where the Dillon Trail crosses the Ferris-Haggerty -Road?" - -Roderick nodded assent. - -"Well, we can't miss each other if we all make for that point. And if -you don't arrive by noon, I'll go right on to Rawlins by the western -road, and lodge our location papers. I'll know you have Bledsoe and -Grady trapped and are holding the ground." - -"Sounds feasible," said Roderick. "But first of all we've got to tear -down these fraudulent location notices and put our own up again." He -pointed to one of the corner stakes. "Just look--these claim-jumpers -came provided with regular printed forms." - -"Well, go ahead with that right now," said Grant. "No doubt the papers -have been changed too down on the Major's ground. When you're through -with that job, follow the trail up the canyon. Now I'm off for my skis, -and then for the road over the hills. Good-by. Take care of yourselves. -Good-by." - -And down the valley they heard his voice singing the song of the -mountain trail: - - "As I was coming down the road, - - Tired team and a heavy load, - - I cracked my whip and the leader sprung - - And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue." - -Then his figure disappeared round a bend, and all again was still. - -But Bledsoe and Grady had taken their time in ascending the canyon. -But at last they reached the impasse that had brought Buell Hampton and -Roderick to a halt the previous evening and caused them to retrace their -steps as the tracks revealed. Just as they were discussing whether it -might not be necessary for them also to turn back, a deer dashed wildly -past them on the narrow bench where they stood--so close that they might -have almost touched it with an outstretched hand. - -Grady jumped back, frightened by the sudden bound of the swiftly -speeding animal. - -"Do you know what that means?" asked Bledsoe quietly. - -"We started the deer, I suppose," stammered Grady. - -"No. But someone else did--lower down the gorge. We are being trailed, -boss. We've got to get out of this hole in double-quick time or chance -being shot down from behind a rock." - -"This wall is impossible," exclaimed Grady, his frightened face gazing -up the cliff. - -Bledsoe was surveying the situation. - -"Wait a minute," he said at last. Then he swung his lariat, the noose of -which, going straight to its mark, caught a projecting tree stump full -fifty feet above. - -"If you can make that," he added, as he pulled the rope tight, "there's -a ledge running right around and up--see?" He pointed with his finger, -tracing a line along the rocky wall. "Now up you go. I'll hold the rope. -It's dead easy." - -Grady dropped his rifle, and with both hands began to climb. Weighted -with the gold in his pockets, he made the ascent slowly and laboriously. -But at last he gained the ledge, and scrambling now on hands and knees -as he moved further upward and onward he speedily disappeared over the -rim of the cliff. - -On Bledsoe's lips was a smile of cold contempt. - -"Hell!" he muttered. "I wanted him to pull up the junk first. However, -I'll manage, I guess." - -He proceeded to tie to the riata his own and Grady's rifle. Then he -swung himself aloft. - -But he was not half way up when a rifle bullet flattened itself on the -rock not a foot from his head. - -"Hands up!" came a voice from below. - -"By God, ain't they up now?" muttered the outlaw grimly, as he jerked -himself to a higher foothold. A few more springs and he was standing on -the ledge. Then, when a second bullet knocked off his hat, he ducked and -scurried along the narrow footway almost as quickly as Grady had done, -and was gone from the view of the two riflemen lower down the canyon. - -"Come on," exclaimed Roderick. "They don't seem to have any guns. We'll -get them yet." - -Buell Hampton followed to the foot of the cliff. The rifles tied to the -lariat showed that the fugitives were in truth disarmed, so far at least -as long-distance weapons were concerned. The Major carefully hid the -rifles in a clump of brushwood. - -They were now prepared to follow, but caution had to be used, for Bud -Bledsoe no doubt had a brace of revolvers at his belt. Roderick climbed -up the rope first, while Buell Hampton, with his Springfield raised, -kept watch for the slightest sign of an enemy above. But the fugitives -had not lingered. Roderick, from the edge of the cliff, called on the -Major to make the ascent, and a few minutes later they stood side by -side. - -High up on the snow-clad face of the mountain were the fleeing figures -of Grady and Bledsoe. Yes, they were making in the direction of the -Ferris-Haggerty Road. Grant would certainly intercept them, while -Roderick and the Major stalked the quarry from the rear. - -"I intend to get that thousand-dollar reward for Bud Bledsoe's hide," -laughed Roderick, slipping a cartridge into the chamber of his rifle. - -"We must not shoot to kill," replied the Major. "It will be sufficient -that they surrender. We have them at our mercy. Come along." - -He advanced a few paces, then paused. - -"But there," he murmured, "I do not like this snow." He held out his -hand, and a first soft feathery flake settled on his palm. - -"Oh, well be all right," cried Roderick. "Besides we've got to help -Grant." - -They trudged along, walking zig-zag up the hill to lessen the incline, -but always keeping close to the trail of the men they were pursuing. On -the plateau above the snow lay deeper, and at places they were knee-deep -in the drift, their feet breaking through the thin encrusting surface -which frost had hardened. - -"It is a pity we have not web snowshoes or skis," remarked Buell Hampton -when they had paused to draw breath. "We could make so much better -time." - -"Well, the other fellows are no better equipped than ourselves," replied -Roderick, philosophically. "But, by jingo, it's snowing some now." - -Yes, the feathery flakes were all around them, not blindingly thick as -yet, but certain precursors of the coming storm. The trail was still -quite clear although the fugitives were no longer in sight. - -An hour passed, two hours, three hours--and hunters and hunted still -plodded on. Roderick felt no misgivings, for he could tell from the -lie of the hills that they were making steadily for the junction of -the Ferris-Haggerty Road with the track over the range to Dillon, where -Grant Jones would now be waiting. But at last the snow began to fall -more thickly, and the encircling mountains came to be no longer visible. -Even the guiding footprints were becoming filled up and difficult to -follow. - -All at once Buell Hampton stopped. - -"These men have lost their way," he exclaimed. - -"They are going round in a circle. Look here--they have crossed their -own track." - -The evidence was unmistakable. - -"Then what are we to do?" asked Roderick. "I suppose we hardly know -where we are ourselves now," he added, looking uneasily around. - -"I have my pocket compass--luckily I never travel without it in the -mountains. But I think it is prudent that we should lose no further time -in making for Encampment." - -"And Grant Jones?" - -"He can look after himself. He is on skis, and knows every foot of the -Dillon trail." - -"Then Grady and Bledsoe?" - -"Their fate is in other hands. If we follow them any longer we will -undoubtedly be caught in the storm ourselves." He held a hand aloft. -"See, the wind is rising. There will be heavy drifting before long." -Roderick now felt the swirl of driven snow on his cheeks. Yes, the wind -had risen. - -"But we'll endeavor to save them," continued Buell Hampton. "Perhaps, as -they are circling round, they are not far away from this spot even now. -We will try at all events." - -And raising both hands to form a voice trumpet, he uttered a loud: -"Hallo I hallo!" - -But no answer came. Again he shouted, again and yet again, turning round -in all directions. Everything remained silent and still. - -The Major now glanced at his compass, and took his bearings. - -"Come," was all he said, as he led the way through the loose crisp snow -that crunched and cheeped beneath their feet. - -Half an hour later the storm by some strange vagary abated. The wind was -blowing stronger, but it seemed to be driving the snow-laden clouds up -into the higher mountain elevations. All of a sudden a penetrating shaft -of sunshine flashed through the dancing snow-flakes, then the flakes -themselves ceased to fall, and the sun was shining on the virgin mantle -of white that enveloped range and peaks as far as the eye could see. - -Roderick glanced down the mountain side. Almost beneath his feet was -Conchshell Ranch--he could see the home on the little knoll amid the -clustering pine trees. For the moment he was thinking of Gail. But the -hand of Buell Hampton had clutched his shoulder. - -"Look!" - -And Roderick looked--away in the direction of Cow Creek Canyon, a mighty -gash in the flank of the mountains nearly a thousand feet deep and more -than half a mile across. Standing out, clear and distinct in the -bright sunshine, were the tall twin towers on either side of the gorge, -supporting the great steel cable which bridged the chasm and carried the -long string of iron buckets bringing ore from the Ferris-Haggerty mine, -fourteen miles distant, down into the smelter at Encampment. Roderick -at his first glance saw that the aerial cars, despite the recent -snow-storm, were still crawling across the deep canyon, for all the -world like huge spiders on a strand of gossamer. - -But as his eyes swept the landscape he beheld outlined on the white -expanse of snow the figures of three men. One, standing fully a -hundred yards away from the other two and lower down the hill, was the -gorilla-like form of Bud Bledsoe. The others were Grady and Grant Jones -on his skis. - -And as Roderick looked, before he could even utter a cry, these two -figures clutched at each other. For a moment they swayed to and fro, -then Grant seemed to fling his man away from him. - -Almost at the same instant, just as a picture might be blotted from a -screen by cutting off the light, both figures had vanished! Then, like -steam shot from a geyser, there ascended high into mid-air a great cloud -of powdered snow, and to the watchers' ears came a deep boom resembling -the prolonged and muffled roar of thunder or big artillery. - -"Good God! A snow slide!" gasped Buell Hampton. - -Roderick was stricken dumb. He stood rigid, frozen with horror. He -needed no one to tell him that Grant Jones had gone over the rim of the -canyon, down a thousand feet, smothered under a million tons of snow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIV--THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES - - -EARLY the following morning several hundred searchers were at the scene -of the snow slide in Cow Creek Canyon. Every precaution was taken not to -have anyone walk along near the rim of the gorge a thousand feet above. -There were still hundreds of thousands of tons of snow on the narrow -plateau at the top, which any disturbance, even no greater than -a stone thrown by the hands of a child, might start moving. If another -slide should occur it would overwhelm and crush the intrepid searchers -below. - -A systematic probing of the snow with long iron rods had been begun at -once and kept up perseveringly until three o'clock in the afternoon. -Then one of the searchers touched clothing or something with his rod. -The snow was quickly shoveled aside, and at a depth of about seven feet -the body of Grant Jones was found lying flat upon his back with his -right arm stretched out above his head, the left doubled under him. The -face was quite natural--it wore a peaceful smile. None of his clothing -had been disturbed or tom--even his cap and his skis were in place. The -poor fellow had simply been crushed to death or smothered by the many -tons of snow. - -Immediately a makeshift sled was constructed by strapping two skis -together sideways. On this the body was taken up the steep hills by a -cautiously selected route to Battle, three and a half miles away, and -thence on to Encampment, twelve miles farther, the improvised sled being -drawn all the way by strong and willing men of the hills. Accompanying -the remains were Roderick Warfield, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, and other -faithful friends, while following came a great cortege of miners, mill -hands, and mountaineers. - -It was midnight before the mournful procession reached town. And -awaiting it even at that late hour was a dense crowd, standing with -bared heads and tear-stained faces. For in all the hill country the -name of Grant Jones was a household word. His buoyant good-nature was -recognized by everyone, and probably he did not have an enemy in all -southern Wyoming where his brief manhood life had been spent. Fully a -thousand people, of both sexes, of all classes and all ages, formed the -escort of the little funeral sled on its last stage to the undertaker's -establishment. Here the body was received by Major Buell Hampton and the -Reverend Stephen Grannon. It had been the Major's duty that day to -seek out the clergyman and bring him down in a sledge from the hills to -administer the last sad rites for their dear dead friend. - -Next day the search was resumed for Grady's remains. Bud Bledsoe it was -known had escaped--the Major had seen him running downhill after the -disaster and others had tracked his footprints, to lose them in a clump -of timber. So there was only one more body to be recovered. The task of -probing with the long iron rods went on for several hours. The searchers -knew the necessity of working both carefully and with speed, for another -snow slide was imminent. And at last it came, toward the noon hour. But -warning had been passed along, so that no lives were sacrificed, the -only result being to pile a veritable mountain of snow over the spot -where Grady's body presumably lay. The search was abandoned, without -regret on anyone's part; in the spring the avalanche would give up -its dead; until then the mortal remains of the unpopular and disgraced -capitalist could well remain in their temporary sepulchre of snow, -"unwept, unhonored, and unsung." - -But for Grant Jones there was public mourning, deep, sincere, and -solemn. Toward evening the whole town of Encampment seemed to be wending -their way to the little church where the Reverend Stephen Gran-non -was to preach the funeral sermon. And these are the words which the -venerable Flockmaster spoke to the hushed and sorrowing congregation. - -"My friends, our hearts today commune with the battalions who have -'crossed over.' Love broods above the sleeping dust in a service of -tears. The past is a dream--the future a mystery. Sometimes the tides -of dissolution creep upon us silently. Again they are as stormy seas and -rough breakers that sweep all with reckless cruelty into oblivion. But -whether the parting be one way or the other, in peacefulness or in the -savagery of a storm, to loving hearts it is ever a tragedy. - -"The grief which is ours today is as old as the ages. It brings us into -fellowship with the centuries. We know now why Eve wept for Abel and -David lamented Absalom. Death is the most ancient sculptor in the world. -Ever since men lived and died, death has made each grave a gallery -and filled it with a silent statue. Death hides faults and magnifies -virtues. Death conceals the failings of those who have passed while -lovingly and enduringly chiselling their noble traits of character. - -"Centuries of philosophy have not succeeded in reconciling men to the -sorrows of dissolution. Death makes us all equal with a mutual sorrow. -We cannot forget our friend who rests here in his final sleep. In happy -symbolism his shroud was whitest snow, and love thrills our hearts with -sympathetic memory. Such love is the kindest service of the soul. - -"Affection for those who have departed has built the mausoleums of the -world and makes every monument an altar of grief. Whether the hope of -immortality is a revelation or an intuition is not under consideration -today. Each man believeth for himself. We know that primitive man away -back in Egypt buried his dead on the banks of the Nile and thought of -immortality. We know that love throughout the ages has touched the heart -with its wings, and hope from the beginning to the end whispers to us -that 'if a man die he shall live again.' I believe that the doctrine of -evolution gives a potent hope of immortality. Evolution takes the mud -of the lake and makes a water lily--the hollow reed in the hand of the -savage grows into a modern flute--the rude marks of primitive man in the -stone age become poems and anthems in our own age. If mist can become -stars--if dust can become worlds--if the immortality of biology is a -truism--if love can come from sensations, if the angel of the brain can -spring into being from simple cells, why then cannot the soul endure -forever although undergoing transitions in the course of its divine -development? - -"I believe in the immortality of the soul. I believe in the religion of -humanity. Yes, on the far away rim of eternity, Faith seeks a beckoning -hand and the human heart pulses anew with inspiration and unfaltering -belief in the immortality of the soul. Let us believe there are songs -sung and harps touched and kisses given and greetings exchanged in that -other world. It is better that all other words should turn to ashes upon -the lips of man rather than the word immortality. Our hearts once filled -with this belief--this great truth--then every tear becomes a jewel, the -darkest night flees before the breaking dawn and every hope turns into -reality. - -"Before us, my friends, lies the dust of the dead--Grant Jones. Away -from home--away from father and mother, brother and sister--far up -in these hills where the shoulders of the mountains are clothed with -treacherous banks of sliding snow--he was here seeking to carve out a -destiny for himself, in the morning of early manhood. The Kismet of his -life, clothed in mystery, caused him to lay down his tools and leave to -others his but partially accomplished mission. He was journeying upward -toward life's mountain-crest--already the clouds were below him and the -stars about him. For do we not know from his gifted writings that this -man held communion with the gods? His heart beat full of loftiest hope. -And then--even before high twelve--he fell asleep. He is gone; but a -myriad of memories of his achievements gather thick about us. We see him -as he was, and this virion will abide with us throughout the years. - -"He was a student and a scholar. He read books that had souls in -them--he read books that converse with the hearts of men and speak to -them of an exalted life--a life that unfolds an ethical and a higher -duty incumbent upon the children of men. He knew much about the -literature of his day--was acquainted with the great authors through -their writings. Keats was his favorite poet, Victor Hugo his favorite -prose author and 'Les Misrables' his favorite book. Music had a -thrilling charm for him. To his heart it was the language of the -eternal. He heard songs in the rocks of towering cliffs, in primeval -forests, in deep gorges, in night winds, in browned grasses and in -tempestuous storms and in the pebbled mountain brooks. - -"We need have no fear for his future, my friends--with him all is well. -A heroic soul, a matchless man, cannot be lost. His heart was a fountain -of love. Virtue was his motto--hope his star--love his guide. Farewell, -Grant, farewell. When with the silent boatman we too shall cross the -river of death and steal away into the infinite, we believe that you -will be standing there in the rosy dawn of eternity to welcome us, to -renew the sweet ties of love and friendship that here on earth have -bound our hearts to yours." - -Thus spoke the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the Flockmaster of the Hills. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXV.--A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO - - -DOROTHY mourned for Grant Jones--for days she wept and would not be -consoled. Roderick had not seen her since the disaster; when he had -called at the ranch Barbara had brought a message from her room that she -dared not trust herself yet to speak to anyone, least of all to the one -whom she knew to have been Grant's closest and dearest friend. - -Roderick had now taken apartments in the Bonhomme Hotel--it would -have been too heartrending an experience to return to the shack where -everything was associated with the memory of his lost comrade. It had -been his painful task to pack the books, the little ornaments, the -trophies of the chase, the other odds and ends of sacred relics, and -send them back East to the old folks at home. He had known it to have -been Grant's own wish that, when death should come, his body should rest -among the hills of Wyoming. So when a simple headstone had been placed -on the grave in God's acre at Encampment, the last sad duty had -been performed. Grief was now deadened. The sweet pleasures of fond -reminiscence remained, the richest legacy that man can leave behind him. - -Buell Hampton and Roderick never met without speaking of Grant, without -recalling some pleasant episode in their association, some brilliant or -thoughtful contribution he had made to their past conversations. With -the aid of fragments of torn paper that had been clutched in the dead -man's left hand, the hand that had been doubled under him when the body -was found, they had pieced together the story of that fateful encounter -with Grady. The latter, bent on discovering and jumping Buell Hampton's -secret mine, had carried into the mountains the proper declaration -papers in printed forms, with only the blanks to be filled in--name, -date, exact location, etc. Grant must have become aware that these -papers were all ready signed in Grady's pocket--perhaps in defiance the -claim-jumper had flaunted them in his face. For the struggle had been -for the possession of these documents, the torn quarters of which were -still in Grant's hand when the fatal dislodgement of snow had taken -place. The full infamy of Grady's long contrived plot was revealed. -Righteously indeed had he gone to his doom. - -A week had passed when Roderick found a letter on the breakfast table at -his hotel. It was from Barbara Shields. - -"My dear Mr. Warfield:-- - -"I write to tell you that we are going to California--to spend the -winter in Los Angeles. We are all sorrow-stricken over the great -calamity up in the hills, and Dorothy--the poor dear girl is simply -stunned. I have known for a long while that she was very fond of Grant, -but I had no idea of the depths of her feelings. - -"Papa says Mama and I must start at once and endeavor to cheer up -Dorothy and help her forget as much as possible the sadness of this -terrible affair. - -"Mr. Bragdon called last night, and is to be our escort to the coast. We -shall probably return about the first of May. Please accept this as an -affectionate good-by for the time being from us all. - -"With cordial good wishes, - -"Sincerely your friend, - -"Barbara." - -Meanwhile snow had been descending off and on day after day, until now -the whole of the mountain country was effectively sealed. Evidently a -rigorous winter had set in, and it would be many months before Hidden -Valley would be again accessible. Roderick was not sorry--the very -mention of gold and mining had become distasteful to his ears. Even when -with the Major, they, never now spoke about the secret canyon and its -hoarded treasures--in subtle sympathy with each other's feelings the -subject was tabooed for the present Bud Bledsoe had disappeared from the -district, no doubt temporarily enriched by the nuggets with which he had -filled his pockets. In the spring most likely he would return and rally -his gang of mountain outlaws. But until then there need be no worry -about the snow-enshrouded claims, the location papers for which had -been now duly registered at the county seat in the names of their proper -owners. - -Buell Hampton had his books and his work for the poor wherewith to -occupy his mind. Roderick found his consolation at the smelter. Early -and late now he worked there, learning the practical operations -from Boney Earnest, mastering the business details with the aid of a -trustworthy old clerk whose services had been retained as secretary. -Boney, having been made the choice of his brother foremen in accordance -with the new plan of operations, was duly confirmed in his position of -general manager, while Roderick, formally elected vice-president by the -board, held the salaried and responsible post of managing-director. - -Major Hampton withdrew himself more and more into the seclusion of his -library; he rarely came to the smelter plant; he left everything -in Roderick's hands once he had become satisfied of the young man's -aptitude for the work; he was content to read the managing director's -weekly report showing steady progress all along the line--increased -output, decreased operating costs, large reductions in waste and -breakages, in a word the all-round benefits resulting from friendly -cooperation between capital and labor, no longer treating each other -as enemies, but pulling together in happy conjunction and for mutual -advantage. - -Another circumstance contributing to the general harmony of the -community was the departure of W. Henry Carlisle, the deposed attorney -of the smelter company. One of Senator Greed's hirelings, Carlisle had -been rewarded by that master of political jobbery with a judgeship in -Alaska. Thus was the whole country made to pay the price of shameful -underhand services that had tainted the very atmosphere and might well -have caused the man in the moon to hold his nose when crossing the state -of Wyoming. - -However, Carlisle's going put an end to much bitterness and squabbling -in Encampment, and now month succeeded month in peaceful routine. As -both smelter and mine were now working Sundays as well as week days, -Roderick could rarely take a day off--or at least he would not allow -himself a day off. - -However, along with Major Buell Hampton he was the guest of Mr. Shields -for Christmas Day dinner, and learned the latest news of the exiles in -California; that mother and daughters were well, Dorothy something like -her old happy self if chastened with a sorrow that would always leave -its memory, and all thoroughly enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of a -winter of warmth and perpetual sunshine. There was another item in Mr. -Shields' budget. Whitley Adams had spent a month in the capital of the -southwest, had brought along his big touring car, and had given the -girls no end of a good time. - -"What took him to Los Angeles?' asked Roderick. - -"Oh, important banking business, Barbara says," replied Mr. Shields -quite innocently. - -Roderick smiled. "Would Dorothy be consoled," he asked himself. The -enterprising youth certainly deserved the prize; Roderick recalled -the mirthful warning sent to dear old Grant in the latter's dilatory -courting days about the tempting peach and the risk of a plundering -hand. Indeed Whitley and Grant had been wonderfully akin in their -boyish good-nature and irrepressible enthusiasm. With Grant gone, it -seemed quite natural that Whitley and Dorothy should be drawn together. -Roderick could wish no greater happiness for Dorothy, no better luck for -his old college chum. Such was the train of his musing the while -Buell Hampton and their host were discussing the wonderful growth and -unbounded future of Los Angeles, the beautiful city of garden homes and -cultured family life. - -For New Year's Day Roderick was invited to the Holdens' place, and -spent a delightful afternoon and evening. Gail sang and played, and the -General seemed to be mightily interested in all the wonderful results -being achieved at the smelter under the new rgime. Gail listened -somewhat distrait, but when the conversation about ores and fluxes -and cupola furnaces and all that sort of thing seemed likely to be -indefinitely prolonged she stole back to her piano and began singing to -herself, soft and low. - -And presently, while the General meandered on in a disquisition about -refractory ores, Roderick was no longer paying attention. He was -listening to the warbling of a thrush in the forest, and his straining -ears caught the words of the song--"Just a-Wearyin' for You." A thrill -ran through his nerves. He excused himself to the General, and crossed -over to the piano. Gail instantly changed her song; by a skillful -transition she was humming now, "Ye Banks and Braes o' Bonnie Dhon." But -their eyes met, and she blushed deeply. - -During the following weeks Roderick thought much and often about the -beautiful Gail Holden, and occasionally now he would relax from business -duties to enjoy a gallop with her on a sunny afternoon over the foothill -ranges. They talked on many themes, and, although words of love were -as yet unspoken, there came to them the quiet sense of happiness in -companionship, of interest in each other's thoughts and undertakings, -of mutual understanding that they were already closer and dearer to each -other than friendship alone could make them. - -Spring was now rapidly approaching. The meadowlarks were singing, and -the grass beginning to grow green in the valleys and foothills, the wild -flowers to paint the slopes and dells in vivid colors. General Holden -had several days before gone to San Francisco, to visit his brother -there in regard to some family business. Gail had been unable to -accompany her father; she had declared that the little ranch at this -season required all her attention. To comfort her in her loneliness -Roderick had promised to go riding with her for an hour or two every -afternoon. This pleasant duty had been properly fulfilled for several -days, and one afternoon, with Badger ready saddled in front of his -office, the young vice-president of the smelter company was just -clearing up a few items of business at his desk before mounting and -taking the road for the Conchshell Ranch. - -A telegram was laid at his hand. He opened it casually, talking the -while with Boney Earnest. But when he saw the name on the slip of paper, -he started erect. The message was from Gail, and had come from Rawlins: -"My father is in hospital, having met with a street accident in San -Francisco. Have just had time to catch the afternoon train at Rawlins. -My address will be the Palace Hotel. Will telegraph news about father on -arrival." - -"Good God!" exclaimed Roderick. "She has taken that journey alone. And -no one to help her in her trouble and sorrow." - -There was no alternative--he could but wait with all the patience he -could command for the next day's overland. For he had instantly resolved -to follow Gail. Like a flash had come the revelation how deeply he loved -the girl; it had only needed the presence of tribulation to cause the -long-smouldering spark of the fire divine in his heart to leap into -flame--to make him realize that, come weal, come woe, his place now was -by her side. - -That afternoon he made all his preparations for departure. The evening -he spent with Buell Hampton, and frankly told his friend of his great -love for Gail. The Major listened sympathetically. - -"All the world loves a lover," he said, a kindly glow upon his face. -"Humanity demands, conscience approves, and good people everywhere -applaud the genial and glowing warmth of honest love of man for maid. -And I commend the choice of your heart, Roderick, for surely nowhere -can be found a finer woman than Gail Holden. Go in and win, and may good -luck follow you. For friendship's sake, too, I think it highly proper -you should proceed at once to San Francisco and look after General -Holden. I hope he is not dangerously hurt." - -"I have no other information except this telegram," replied Roderick. -"But I'll surely wire you from San Francisco." - -Jim Rankin drove the stage next morning. Roderick took his accustomed -place on the box seat, and listened to Jim's accustomed flow of language -on all the local topics of interest. But during the long drive of fifty -miles there was only one little part of the one-sided conversation that -Roderick ever remembered. - -"Yes, siree," Jim said, "all the folks is readin' books these days. I -myself have took the craze--I've got a book about the horse out of our -new libr'y an' I'll be dog-busted if I ever knew the critter had so -many bones. Tom Sun is readin' about wool growin' in Australia, and is -already figgerin' on gettin' over Tasmanian merino blood for his flocks. -And I'm danged if old Wren the saloon-keeper ain't got stuck with a -volume on temperance. 'Ten Bar-Rooms in One Night'; no, by gunnies, -that's not it--'Ten Nights in a Bar-Room'--now I've got it right Guess -it will do him a power o' good too. Then all the young fellers have -started goin' to night classes. I tell you the Reverend Grannon with his -schools an' his libr'ies is just workin' wonders. An' who do you think -is his right hand man, or boy, or devil--call him which you like?" - -"Who?" asked Roderick vaguely. - -"Scotty Meisch, that little tad of a cow-puncher you and poor old Grant -Jones took up and made a printer's devil of. Well, the parson got -his hooks in him and tells me he's turned out to be a first-class -organizer--that's his word. It's Scotty who goes around, starts each new -lib'iy, and sets the machin'ry goin' smooth an' proper. It's a case of a -round peg in a round hole, although who the hell would have thought it?" - -Roderick was pleased to hear this good news of Scotty Meisch, but, -returning to his thoughts about Gail, failed to follow Jim as the latter -switched off into another line of "unbosomings." - -He was glad to be alone at last and in the drawing room of the Pullman -car which he had reserved by telegraph. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVI--IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS - - -AFTER a tedious and delayed trip of three days and nights Roderick's -train steamed onto the mole at Oakland. During the last night he had -refused to have the berth in his drawing room made down, and had lounged -and dozed in his seat, occasionally peering out of the car window. The -hour was late--almost three o'clock in the morning. The train should -have arrived at seven o'clock the evening before. - -There was the usual scramble of disembarking, red-capped porters -pressing forward to carry hand baggage from the train to the ferryboat. - -"Last boat to San Francisco will leave in five minutes," was shouted -from somewhere, and Roderick found himself with his valise in hand being -pushed along with the throng of passengers who had just alighted from -the train. Once on the ferryboat, he climbed to the upper deck and went -well forward for the view. The waters of the bay were illumed with a -half-crescent moon. Far across, six miles away, was San Francisco with -its innumerable lights along the waterfront and on the slopes of her -hills. To the right were Alcatras Island and the lighthouse. - -Then the sharp ping-ping of bells sounded and the great wheels of -the boat began to turn. Roderick was filled with the excitement of an -impatient lover. "Gail, Gail, Gail," his throbbing heart kept thrumming. -Would he be able to find her? San Francisco was a strange city to Gail -as well as to himself. She had been on the train ahead of him, and might -by this time have left the Palace Hotel, the address her telegram had -given. But he had learned from one of the porters that Gail's train had -been greatly delayed and would not have arrived before eleven o'clock -the previous night. He reasoned that she would perforce have gone to the -hotel at such a late hour, and would wait until morning to hunt up the -hospital where her father was being cared for. - -The boat had hardly touched the slip and the apron been lowered than he -bounded forward, hastened through the ferryhouse and came out into -the open where he was greeted by the tumultuous calls of a hundred -solicitous cab-drivers. Roderick did not stand on the order of things, -but climbing into the first vehicle that offered directed to be taken to -the Palace Hotel. - -Arriving at the hotel Roderick paid his fare while the door porter -took possession of his grips. Glancing at a huge clock just over the -cashier's desk, he noticed the hour was three-thirty a. m. Taking -the pen handed to him by the rooming clerk, he signed his name on the -register, and then let his eyes glance backward over the names of -recent arrivals. Ah, there was the signature of Gail Holden. Fortune was -favoring him and he breathed a silent prayer of thankfulness that he had -overtaken her. - -Yes, he would serve her. He would help her. She should see and she -should know without his telling her, that nothing else mattered if he -could only be with her, near her and permitted to relieve her of all -troubles and difficulties. - -"Show the gentleman to his room," said the night clerk and bowed to -Roderick with a cordial good night. - -As Roderick turned and followed the boy to the elevator, he realized -that he was not sleepy--indeed that he was nervously alert and wide -awake. After the boy had brought a pitcher of ice-water to the room, -received his tip and departed, Roderick sat down to think it all over. -But what was the use? "I cannot see her until perhaps eight o'clock in -the morning. However, I will be on the outlook and in waiting when -she is ready for breakfast. And then--" his heart was beating fast "I -certainly am terribly upset," he acknowledged to himself. - -Taking up his hat, he went out, locked the door, rang for the elevator -and a minute later was out on the street. He was still wearing his -costume of the mountains--coat, shirt, trousers, and puttees, all of -khaki, with a broad-brimmed sombrero to match. A little way up -Market Street he noticed a florist's establishment. Great bouquets -of California roses were in the windows, chrysanthemums and jars of -violets. - -He walked on, deciding to provide himself later on with a floral -offering wherewith to decorate the breakfast table. He had often heard -San Francisco described as a city that turned night into day, and the -truth of the remark impressed him. Jolly crowds were going along -the streets singing in roistering fashion--everyone seemed to be -good-natured--the cafs were open, the saloon doors swung both ways and -were evidently ready for all-comers. When he came to Tate's restaurant, -he went down the broad marble steps and found--notwithstanding the -lateness or rather earliness of the hour--several hundred people still -around the supper tables. The scene had the appearance of a merry -banquet where everyone was talking at the same time. An air of joviality -pervaded the place. The great fountain was throwing up glittering -columns of water through colored lights as varied as the tints of a -rainbow. The splash of the waters, the cool spray, the wealth of ferns -and flowers surrounding this sunken garden in the center of a great -dining room--the soft strains of the orchestra, all combined to fill -Roderick with wonder that was almost awe. He sank into a chair at a -vacant little table near the fountain and endeavored to comprehend it -all He was fresh from the brown hills, from the gray and purple sage and -the desert cacti, from the very heart of nature, so utterly different -to this spectacle of a bacchanalian civilization. - -The wilderness waif soon discovered that he would be de trop unless he -responded to the urgent inquiries of the waiter as to what he would have -to drink. - -"A bottle of White Rock to begin with," ordered Roderick. - -As he was sipping the cold and refreshing water it occurred to him that -he had not tasted food since breakfast the day before in the dining car -of the train. Yes, he would have something to eat and he motioned to the -waiter. - -After giving his order he had to wait a long time, and the longer he -waited the hungrier he became. Presently a generous steak was placed -before him. Potatoes _au gratin,_ olives, asparagus, and French peas -made up the side dishes, and a steaming pot of coffee completed a -sumptuous meal. - -When he had paid his check he discovered it was almost five o'clock in -the morning, and as he mounted the marble stairway he laughingly told -himself he wouldn't have much of an appetite at seven or eight o'clock -when he came to sit down at the breakfast table with Gail Holden. -Gaining the sidewalk he found that darkness was shading into dawn. - -Instead of returning by way of Market Street, Roderick lit a cigar and -turning to the right walked up a cross street toward the St. Francis -Hotel. In front was a beautiful little park; shrubbery and flowers lined -the winding walks, while here and there large shade trees gave an added -touch of rural charm. - -He seated himself on one of the iron benches, took out his watch and -counted up the number of minutes until, probably, he would see the -object of his heart's desire. How slow the time was going. He heard the -laughter of a banqueting party over at the Poodle Dog, although at the -time he did not know the place by name. - -"Yes," he murmured, "San Francisco is certainly in a class by itself. -This is the land where there is no night." - -The contrast between the scenes in this gay city and the quiet hill -life away up among the crags, the deep canyons and snow-clad peaks of -southern Wyoming was indeed remarkable. - -It was the morning of April eighteen, 1906, and the night had almost -ended. There was a suggestion of purple on the eastern horizon--the -forerunner of coming day. The crescent moon was hanging high above Mt. -Tamalpais. - -The town clock tolled the hour of five and still Roderick waited. -Presently he was filled with a strange foreboding, a sense of -oppression, that he was unable to analyze. He wondered if it presaged -refusal of the great love surging in his heart for Gail Holden, the fair -rider of the ranges, the sweet singer of the hills. An indescribable -agitation seized him. - -The minutes went slowly by. His impatience increased. He looked again at -his watch and it was only a quarter after five. The city was wrapped in -slumber. - -Then suddenly and without warning Roderick was roughly thrown from his -seat and sent sprawling onto the grass among the shrubbery. He heard -an angry growling like the roar from some rudely awakened Goliath of -destruction deep down in earth's inner chambers of mystery--a roar -of wrath and madness and resistless power. The ground was trembling, -reeling, upheaving, shaking and splitting open into yawning fissures, -while hideous noises were all around. Buildings about the park were -being rent asunder and were falling into shapeless heaps of ruin. - -Struggling to his feet, his first impulse was to hasten to the hotel -and protect Gail. As he arose and started to run he was again thrown to -earth. The bushes whipped the turf as if swished to and fro by an unseat -hand. For a moment Roderick was stunned into inaction--stricken with the -paralysis of unspeakable fear. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVII--RODERICK RESCUES GAIL - - -IT WAS but a few seconds until Roderick was again on his feet Hurriedly -taking his bearings, he started off through the little park in the -direction of the Palace Hotel. In the uncertain morning dawn the -people from innumerable bedrooms above the stores were pouring into the -streets. They were scantily attired, most of them simply in their night -garments, and all were dazed and stunned with a terrible fright Before -Roderick had reached Market Street the thoroughfare was almost blocked -by this frantic and half-clothed mass of humanity. His powerful athletic -frame and his football experience stood him in good stead, although -here roughness had to be exchanged for greatest gentleness. He was very -persistent, however, in his determination to reach the hotel in time if -possible to be of assistance to Gail. - -Less than ten feet in front of where he was crowding his way through -the throng of people a portion of a cornice came tumbling down from -far above. A wailing cry went up from the unfortunates pinned beneath. -Roderick leaped quickly forward and with the strength of a Hercules -began to heave aside the great blocks of stone. Others recognized his -leadership, instantly obeyed his commands and lent their united strength -in helping to release three men who had been caught under debris. The -cries of the injured were piteous. Indifferent to the danger of falling -bricks and mortar Roderick caught up one poor fellow in his arms and -carried him as if he were a babe into a receding doorway. - -"My legs, my legs," the victim moaned. "They're broken--they're broken." - -Quickly removing his coat Roderick placed it beneath the man's head for -a pillow, and leaving others to guard, he hastened back to the scene of -the tragedy, only to find that the spark of life had now gone out from -the other two bodies pitifully maimed and crushed. - -He pushed his way into the middle of the street amid the surging mob, -and again turned his steps toward the Palace Hotel. At last he found -himself near to the entrance of the great hostelry. But everyone was -seeking to escape and rushing to the street in riotous disorder. By dint -of indefatigable efforts he managed to get within the gateway and then -to the large trysting room across the hall from the hotel office. A -group of women were endeavoring to revive a poor sufferer who evidently -had fainted. Approaching, he saw blood coursing down the fair face of -the unfortunate. - -"My God!" he exclaimed. "It is Gail." - -An instant later he had gently pushed the helpers aside and gathered -the girl in his strong arms. Moving backwards, forcing a passage step by -step with the determination of one who acts intuitively in a crisis, -he managed to gain the open. He hoped the air would restore Gail to -consciousness. - -Crossing to the other side of the street where the throng was less dense -he started toward a high hill that rose up far away. It was covered -with residences, and if he could once reach that vantage point with his -charge he felt sure it would be an asylum of safety. The distance was -considerable and presently the way became steep. But he was unconscious -of any weight in the burden he carried. His only thought was to get Gail -away from the burning, falling buildings--away from the central part of -the city which was now a fiery pit wrapped in sheets of devouring flame. - -Finally attaining the eminence--it was Nob Hill although he did not know -the name--he found the porches and front lawns of the beautiful houses -filled with frightened people viewing the scene in awe and amazement. -Formalities were forgotten; solicitude and helpful kindness reigned -supreme among all the people of the stricken city. - -He called to a little group huddled on the front porch of their home. -"Here is a lady," Roderick explained, "who has been injured and fainted. -Will you please get water and help to revive her?" - -In hurried eagerness to assist they quickly brought a cot to the porch -and upon this Roderick gently placed the still unconscious girl. Her -face was deathly white, and a great red gash was discovered across one -side of her head, from which the blood was trickling down the marble -cheek. The wound was bandaged by tender hands and the face laved with -cooling water. After a little Gail opened her eyes and asked piteously: -"Where am I? Where am I?" - -"You are safe," said Roderick as he knelt by her side. - -"Oh, is it you, Mr. Warfield? How glad--how glad I am to see you. Where -am I?" - -"In San Francisco. Don't you remember?" - -"Yes, yes, I remember now," she replied weakly and lifted one hand to -her aching head. "But papa?--where is my father?" - -"I am going to look for him now. You are with kind people and they will -care for you. Rest quietly and be patient until I return." - -Her dark blue eyes looked helplessly up into his for a moment; then he -turned and was gone. - -Roderick rushed down the hill, back to the scene of devastation where -he might be useful in helping to save human life, determined also in -his heart to find General Holden. But where was he? In some hospital, as -Gail's telegram had told. - -He was debating with himself whether he should return to seek some -directions from Gail. But just then the surging, swaying crowd pushed -him irresistibly back, then swept him away along Market Street. The -Palace Hotel was on fire. Policemen and firemen were thrusting the -people away from the known danger line. - -Just then he heard a voice crying out in heart-rending anguish: "My -little girl', my little girl." It was a frantic mother weeping and -looking far up to the seventh story of a building she evidently had just -left. There leaning out of a window was a curly haired tot of a child, -perhaps not more than four years old, laughing and throwing kisses -toward her mama, all unconscious of danger. - -"I came down," sobbed the weeping mother to those around, "to see what -had happened. The stairway is now on fire, and I cannot return. Will no -one, oh Lord, will no one save my little girl?" - -Roderick looked up to where the woman was pointing and saw the child. - -"My God!" he exclaimed, "smoke is coming out of the next window." He -noticed that the adjoining building was already a mass of fire. At a -glance he took in the situation. - -"Hold on a minute," he shouted. "I will try." - -There was an outside fire escape that led from the top story down to -the first floor. Roderick made a leap, caught hold of the awning braces, -pulled himself up with muscles of steel, and grasped the lowermost rung -of the escape. A moment later he was making his way up the narrow -iron ladder, pushing through the aperture at each floor, with almost -superhuman swiftness. When he reached the window he lifted the child in -his arms and hastily started on the downward journey. - -"Hold tight, little girl," was all Roderick said as he felt the -confiding clasp of her tiny arms about his neck. - -Many of the people below besides the almost frenzied mother were -watching the heroic deed with bated breath. Just then a cry of terror -went up. The great wall of a burning building across the street was -toppling outward and a moment later collapsed, burying many unhappy -victims beneath the avalanche of broken brick and mortar. - -Whether the little girl's mother had been caught by the falling wall or -not Roderick had no means of determining. A choking cloud of dust, -ash, soot and smoke enveloped him in stifling darkness; he could hardly -breathe. The very air was heated and suffocating. But down and down he -went with his little burden clinging tightly to him. Arriving at the -awnings he swung himself over, secured a momentary foothold, then -grasped the braces with his hands and dropped to the littered sidewalk -below. - -The mother of the girl was nowhere to be seen. He turned down the street -to get away from the horrible sight of the dead and the piteous cries -of the dying. He had scarcely reached the next corner when the child, -who was mutely clinging to him as if indeed she knew he was her savior, -released her arms and called out gleefully: "Oh, there's mama, mama, -mama." Then the mother stood before him, weeping now for joy, and -through her tears Roderick saw a face of radiance and a smile of -gratitude that time or eternity would never erase from his memory. - -Nothing mattered now--her little girl was safe in her arms. "I don't -know who you are, sir," she exclaimed, "but I owe to you the life of my -child, and may the good God bless you." - -But this was no time for thanks. Roderick was looking upward. - -"Come quickly," he shouted, "come this way--hasten." And he pulled them -down a side street and away from another sky-scraper that was trembling -and wavering as if about to fall. - -They turned, and ran along a street that was still free from fire and -led toward the St. Francis Hotel and the little park fronting it where -Roderick had sat at dawn. Carefully he guided the woman's steps, keeping -to the middle of the street, for the sidewalk was encumbered with debris -and threatened by partly dislodged brickwork above. Here and there -the roadway was rumpled and rough as a washboard by reason of the -earthquake, while at places were great gaping fissures where the earth -had been split open many feet deep. But soon they were in the open -square, and mother and child were safe. Knowing this, Roderick allowed -them to pass on--to pass out of his life without even the asking or the -giving of names. - -For there was other work to his hand; he hurried back to the last -crossing. There under the fallen dbris, was a woman obviously of -refinement and wealth whose life had been vanquished without warning. -One hand was extended above the wreckage. It was shapely and encircled -with a bracelet, while a single diamond solitaire ring adorned her -finger--perhaps a betrothal ring. Two human ghouls--not men--had whipped -out their ready knives and were in the very act of severing the finger -to obtain the jewel. It was these brutes that Roderick had come back to -face. - -Like a flash he leaped forward and with a well directed sledge-hammer -blow felled one of these would-be robbers of the dead. Then he grappled -with the second scoundrel. The man in his grip was none other than the -outlaw, Bud Bledsoe! - -With knife already open and in his hand the inhuman wretch slashed -Roderick's cheek, and the red blood spurted down his face and neck. -Roderick loosed his hold and stepped back a pace--the next gash of this -kind might easily be a fatal one. But not for one instant did he lose -his presence of mind or nerve. As the cowardly miscreant advanced, cruel -murder in his eyes, Roderick by a swift swing of his right parried the -upraised hand that held the knife, and then, seizing the opening, he -delivered with his left a smashing uppercut. Bledsoe reeled for a moment -like a drunken man, then sank to the ground a huddled heap, and finally -rolled over kicking convulsively and quite insensible. - -The knockout had been effected quickly and well--like a butcher would -fell a bullock. - -Already the devastated city was under martial law, and three or four -soldiers coming hurriedly up just then, and having seen from the -opposite corner the hellish attempt of the two wretches to despoil the -dead, shot them instantly, Bledsoe where he lay writhing, the other as -he staggered dazed-like to his feet. - -Roderick wiped the blood from his face, and thanked the soldiers. "Good -for you, young fellow," cried one of them as they continued on their -way. - -His wound forgotten, Roderick again looked round to see where he could -render the most efficient service. - -The night came on, and he was still at work, rescuing and helping. He -had been recognized by the Citizens' Committee of Safety and now wore -a badge that gave him the freedom of the streets. In all his goings -and comings he was ever looking for General Holden, and he also made -numerous trips to Nob Hill, searching for the house where he had left -Gail. But he could never find the place again, for the raging fire was -fast obliterating all guiding landmarks. - -Thus for two days--terrible days, pitiful days--for two nights--terrible -nights, pitiful nights--Roderick drifted with the bands of rescuers, -doing deeds of valor and of helpfulness for others less strong than -himself. His face was black with soot and clotted with blood, his coat -he had parted with at the beginning of the disaster, the rest of his -clothing was tattered and torn, his sombrero had disappeared, when and -how he had not the faintest notion. - -The fire had now burned out its center circle and was eating away at the -rim in every direction. Roderick suddenly remembered he had tasted no -food since his early breakfast at Tate's an hour before the earthquake -crash. The pangs of hunger had begun to make themselves felt, and he -concluded to turn his steps toward the outer fire line and endeavor to -find something to eat. - -As he walked along from house to house he found them all deserted. Some -of the household goods were scattered about the lawns, while boxes, -trunks, and bulky packages were piled on the sidewalks. Presently he -found a basket which contained a single loaf of bread. This he ate -ravenously, and counted it the greatest feast he had ever had in -his life. He ate as he hurried along, thinking of Gail and General -Holden--wishing he might divide the bread with them. - -The roar of consuming, crackling flames, the deep intonations of -intermittent dynamite explosions, and the occasional wail of human -beings in distress, rose and fell like a funeral dirge. - -His feet intuitively turned back to the burned district. There might yet -be more work for him to do. - -He determined to pick his way across the ruins, and ascending the hill -opposite make another desperate effort to find Gail. After a fatiguing -climb over hot embers and around the twisted steel skeletons of -burned-out buildings he finally stood on the rim of the hill above the -saucer-shaped valley of flames. Only charred and smoking ruins were -about him. The beautiful residential district had like the business -sections below, been swept with the fires of destruction. - -Where was Gail? Was she safe? Was she dead? Would he ever find her? -These were some of the questions that kept him in agonizing incertitude. - -There was a weird uncanny attraction about this great amphitheatre of -flame--an attraction like that of a lodestone; and he feared lest Gail -had left her refuge in a vain search for her father and met with another -serious accident. Roderick had visited all the unburned hospitals, but -no trace of General Holden had he been able to find. The quest for both -must be resumed; so down the hill he trudged again. - -Ashes and burning cinders were falling like huge flakes of snow. -Once more Roderick was in the midst of a throng of people--gaunt and -hollow-eyed, wearied and worn-out, just staggering along. At last he -recognized the little park in front of the St. Francis Hotel. Yes, he -would go there, stretch himself on the grass, and rest and sleep for at -least a few hours. This would make him ill the fitter for his task of -searching. - -Just as he was about to cross the street a dozen people shouted for him -to look out; but he did not turn quickly enough to discover nor escape -a burning wooden rafter that fell from the upper story of a building and -struck him an ugly glancing blow on the head. Roderick dropped to the -ground unconscious. - -At this very moment a Red Cross automobile was passing. It stopped -abruptly at the sidewalk. Two men stepped quickly down and lifted the -almost lifeless body into the machine. A moment later the auto glided -away down a side street in the direction of Golden Gate Park. - -That night there were many in the camps of refuge around the burning -city who thought about the tall, strong-muscled, square-jawed young -stranger in khaki garb, while their hearts welled up with gratitude -for his timely assistance and chivalrous deeds of bravery. Had they -but known of the fate that had at last befallen their nameless hero, -grateful thoughts would have been turned into fervent prayers. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXVIII--THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK - - -THE general shock of horror caused by the San Francisco disaster was -intensified at Encampment when the news ran round that three local -people had been in the stricken city at the moment of the earthquake -shock which had laid the business centre in ruins and prepared the way -for the subsequent far-sweeping conflagration. No telegram came from -either the Holdens or Roderick Warfield, and their silence, their -failure to relieve the anxiety of the friends they must have known -were deeply concerned about their safety, could only cause ominous -conjectures as to their fate. There was no possibility of reaching them -by wire, for the Palace Hotel, the only known address, had been one of -the first buildings destroyed. - -But Buell Hampton did not wait for telegrams to reach him. He had -no sooner been apprised of the catastrophe than he was on his way to -Rawlins, hiring a special conveyance on the mere off-chance that railway -schedules would have been disarranged and a train might be caught at any -moment. In this he showed his usual good judgment for within an hour of -reaching the station he was on board a belated limited, in which he had -the further good fortune to find one solitary sleeping berth unoccupied. -The train was loaded with returning San Francisco people who had -been absent when their homes had been swept away, anxious friends of -sufferers, doctors, nurses, relief workers of every kind, newspaper men, -all hurrying to the scene of sorrow and suffering. - -It was on the morning of the fifth day after the earthquake that Buell -Hampton, provided with a special permit, at last found himself amid the -ruins of San Francisco. Many buildings were still burning or smoldering, -but the area of destruction was now defined and the spread of the flames -checked. With saddened heart the Major picked his way along what once -had been Market Street but was now a long mound of fallen stones, -bricks, and mortar lined by the skeletons of lofty iron-framed -buildings. Here the work of clearing away the debris in search of -victims was in progress. But any inquiries of those actively engaged in -these operations were useless. Buell Hampton passed on. - -Suddenly he came upon the bread line, a wonderful sight--a long row of -people of all sorts and conditions, the rich, the poor, the educated, -the ignorant, the well dressed, the tattered, ranged in single file and -marching slowly past the commissary to receive a supply of provisions -for their own famishing selves or for their destitute families. Buell -Hampton scanned each face; neither General Holden nor Roderick were in -the line, nor was there any sign of Gail. - -Then he began a systematic visitation of the refuge camps that had been -formed around the bumed-out area. The remainder of that first day he -spent in Golden Gate Park. It was not until the succeeding afternoon -that he found himself in the crowded tent city out on the Presidio. -Here at last his patient and persistent efforts were rewarded. He caught -sight of Gail seated near the door of a tiny tent-house and strode -eagerly forward to greet her. In his deep emotion he folded the young -girl to his breast, and she in turn clung to him in her joy of meeting -at last a dear friend from home. - -"Where is your father?" was the Major's first inquiry. - -"He is safe. We have this little tent, and I am nursing him. His right -arm was broken in the street accident, but immediately after the fire -began all the hospital patients were removed to open places, and here I -found him, thank God, the very first evening. You see, my uncle's house -was burned. He is quartered across the bay at Oakland." - -"Your head is bandaged, Gail. Were you badly hurt?" - -"Oh, that was nothing," she replied, pulling off the narrow band of -linen that encircled her brow. "Just a little scalp wound when I fell, -and it is quite healed now. But, oh, I remember so little about the -terrible disaster--how I got out of the Palace Hotel at all." - -"And Roderick--where is Roderick?" asked Buell Hampton. - -Gail's eyes opened wide--with wonder, then with fear. - -"Roderick, Roderick!" she exclaimed in a trembling voice. "Then it was -not a dream?" - -"What dream?" - -"That it was he who carried me out of the hotel building and to the -veranda of the house where he laid me on a cot and kind friends bathed -my wound." - -"No dream, this. It was Roderick for certain. He followed you on the -next train to San Francisco--intending to go straight to the Palace -Hotel." - -"Followed me? Why did he follow me?" - -"To render you help when your father was hurt--because he loves you--of -course, you must have divined how deeply he loves you." - -The color rose slowly to Gail's face. But there was fear still in her -eyes. She pressed her clasped hands to her breast. - -"Then where is he now?" she asked in a tense whisper. - -"That is what I want to know--I have been seeking both you and him. When -did you meet last?" - -"Five days ago. After saving me he rushed straight away to seek for -Papa. I came to believe that it was all a dream. For I have not seen him -since. Oh, he must have been hurt--he may have been killed." And burying -her face in her hands she burst into tears. - -Buell Hampton laid a kindly hand on her shoulder. "Come, my dear, we -can do no good by giving way to weeping. I have been through many of the -refuge camps, and I shall go right on searching now. You see there -are thousands of people in these Presidio grounds. He may be within a -stone's throw of us here at this very moment." - -"Oh, let me help you." With a hand she dashed away her tears, and stood -before him now, calm and resolute. "I will come with you right now. I -need no hat or anything." - -"But your father?" - -"He is all right He is resting quite peacefully. Just spare one moment, -please. Come in and shake hands. He will be so happy to see you." - -She led the way to the tent door and parted the awning. Buell Hampton -entered and warmly greeted General Holden. But he told him he could not -linger, for Roderick must be found. - -During the remaining hours of daylight the Major and Gail searched along -row after row of tents. But Roderick remained undiscovered--no one had -ever heard his name or could remember having seen anyone answering to -the description given. Reluctantly Buell Hampton quitted the quest and -led Gail back to her own place of refuge. - -"I am sleeping at Berkeley," he explained. "It is best that we should -both have our night's rest. But I shall be back here for you soon after -daybreak, and if you can engage someone to watch by your father we shall -search together all day long. Will that suit, you, Gail?" - -"Oh, you are so kind taking me," she replied, resting her hands on his -shoulders, tears of gratitude in the eyes that looked up into his. "It -would break my heart not to be with you." - -"I would not rob you of love's sweet duty," he replied as he stooped and -gently kissed her on the brow. - -Another day went by, but still their efforts were unrewarded. On the -following morning they started for the Seal House, to search the many -improvised hospitals which they had learned were located there. The -first place they entered was an immense tent with two or three hundred -cots ranged in crowded rows. - -As Buell Hampton and Gail walked down the long central aisle, each took -one side to scan the physiognomies of the poor sufferers, some moaning -in delirium, others with quiet pale faces that lighted up to return the -smile of sympathy and encouragement Presently, the Major who was walking -a few feet in advance heard an exclamation of joy, and turning quickly -saw Gail Holden kneeling at the side of a cot There was a bewildered -look on the face of the patient--a lean drawn face, pallid beneath the -tan, the chin stubbled with a beard of a few days' growth, the forehead -swathed in bandages, one cheek scored with a healing scar. Gail had -taken one of his hands in both her own. He looked from Gail to Major -Hampton and then from the Major back to Gail. - -"Is this a vision?" he asked feebly, as if doubting his senses. - -"Roderick, my dear fellow, is it really you?" exclaimed the Major, as -he bent down over him. "For days we have been hunting for you. And now -we've found your hotel"--he glanced around with a little smile--"we -don't propose to lose sight of you again." - -Loosening his hand from Gail's and taking both of hers in his own and -smiling feebly, Roderick said: "Really, Gail, I hardly know yet whether -you are actually here or I am dreaming. You looked pretty white that day -I carried you from the hotel." - -"There is no dream about me, Roderick," replied Gail brightly. "We are -going to take care of you, Major Hampton and myself, just as you so -kindly looked after poor little me." - -At this moment a nurse approached: "So your friends have found you, Mr. -Warfield?" she said with a cheerful smile. - -"Yes," replied Roderick, "the very best friends I have in all the -world." As he spoke Gail felt the gentle pressure of his hand. - -"Is this your ward?" inquired the Major of the nurse. - -"Yes, I have had charge of it ever since this makeshift hospital was put -up." - -"Well, how is the patient, our friend Mr. Warfield?" - -"He had received a pretty ugly cut--a falling piece of wood or something -of that sort--on the top and side of his head--a sort of glancing -bruise. But he is getting on very well now. We have his fever under -control. For a number of days he was very flighty and talked a great -deal about Major Hampton." - -"I am honored," said the Major, bowing. - -"Oh, you are Major Hampton?" - -"Yes," said Gail, "Major Buell Hampton is Mr. Warfield's best -friend--that is, one of the best." And she looked quickly at Roderick. - -"How fortunate that you have come when he is convalescing. But tell me," -asked the nurse, "who is Gail? In his delirium he talked a great deal -about her." - -Roderick's face flushed, and Gail with rising color immediately changed -the subject by asking: "How soon would it be safe to have the patient -removed?" - -"Oh, perhaps tomorrow or the next day. The doctor says he is now quite -out of danger--the fever is practically gone." - -At Roderick's request he was propped up on his little white iron -hospital cot, chairs were brought, and until far on in the afternoon -Gail and the Major sat on either side, conversing in quiet, subdued -tones, relating incidents in the terrible disaster, planning for their -early return to Wyoming just as soon as Gail's father and Roderick -himself could stand the journey. - -A couple of days later Buell Hampton and Gail arrived at the hospital in -an automobile, and carried Roderick away to a yacht anchored in the -bay that had been placed at their disposal. Here Roderick found General -Holden already installed in a comfortable deck chair, and he was -introduced by Gail to her Uncle Edward, a hale old gentleman bearing a -striking resemblance to his brother. The General looked fit even if he -did carry his right arm in a sling, Roderick although weak from loss of -blood was able to walk, and both could well congratulate each other on -their providential escape. - -"We are not going to talk about these awful times," said the General as -he gave Roderick his left hand and returned the cordial pressure. "But -I have to thank you for saving our dear Gail. We all fully realize that -without your brave and timely help we would not have her with us today." - -"Nonsense," protested Roderick. "Somebody else would have done what I -did. I was just happy and lucky in having the privilege." - -"God bless you!" murmured the father, again pressing the hand which he -had not yet relinquished. - -"And so say I," exclaimed the uncle. "We could not do without our little -Gail." And he patted her cheek affectionately. - -There followed a week of blissful rest and happy companionship, at the -end of which it would have been a hollow mockery to pretend in the case -of either invalid that any more nursing or lolling in long chairs was -required. Railroad accommodations were secured for the morrow. - - - - -CHAPTER XXXIX--REUNIONS - - -TEN days before the departure from San Francisco telegrams had been -sent in all directions giving forth the glad tidings that General Holden -and Gail, Roderick and Buell Hampton, were safe and would soon be on -their homeward way to Wyoming. Among those thus notified had been the -Shields family at Los Angeles and Allen Miller at Keokuk. But it was a -great surprise to find Whitley Adams waiting the arrival of the morning -train at Rawlins with his big Sixty Horse Power automobile, and bearing -the news that Mrs. Shields, Barbara and Dorothy had returned, while also -Uncle Allen and Aunt Lois had come to Encampment so that appropriate -welcome might be given to those who had recently come through such -terrible and harrowing experiences. Jim Rankin and Tom Sun were also on -the platform to exchange hand-grips with Roderick and the Major. - -After the first glad salutations Whitley pointed to his car, and -announced that he was going to drive the party over to Encampment. - -"Sorry to be starting in opposition to the regular stage," he said with -a sly little wink in Roderick's direction. "But you see Mr. Rankin's -horses are hardly good enough for the occasion." - -Jim drew himself up and pointed to his old Concord stage coach standing -by, all ready for the road. - -"The dangnationest finest pair uv roan leaders and span uv blacks at -the wheel that ever had lines over 'em in this part of the country," he -declared sturdily. "Just wait a bit, young man. 'Fore we're many miles -on the road I make free to prognosticate you'll be under the bed-springs -uv that new fangled wagon uv yours and my hosses will be whizzing past -you like a streak uv greased lightnin'. How would a little bet uv ten or -twenty dollars suit you?" - -"Oh, bankers never gamble," replied Whitley with undisturbed gravity. -"Well, you'll follow with the luggage, Mr. Rankin, and no doubt we'll -have the pleasure of seeing you again sometime tomorrow. Come away, Miss -Holden. Luncheon is to be waiting at my hotel in Encampment in a couple -of hours." - -"Blame his skin," muttered Jim when the big automobile had whirled away. -But Tom Sun was convulsed with laughter. - -"He got your dander fairly riz, Jim," he chuckled. - -Jim's visage expanded into a broad grin. - -"Guess that's just what he was arter. But ain't he the most sassy -cock-a-whoop little cuss anyhow?" - -"Shall I help you with the luggage?" laughed Tom Sun. - -"Oh, you just quit the foolin' game, Tom. Don't come nachural from you. -Besides I might be gettin' a heap peevish and kind o' awkward with my -artillery. Suppose we lubricate?" - -So the old cronies crossed over to the Wren saloon, where a brace of -cocktails soon restored Jim's ruffled dignity. - -Meanwhile the automobile was speeding along. - -Roderick was on the driver's seat beside Whitley, and absorbing the -news. - -"Oh, I just insisted on your Uncle Allen coming along," Whitley was -telling him. "And Aunt Lois, too. My old folks will arrive at the end of -the week. Meantime Aunt Lois is helping me with my trousseau." - -"Your trousseau!" - -"Yes--socks and things. You see it's all fixed up between me and dear -Dorothy. Oh, she's the best girl ever--you'll remember I said that from -the first, Rod, my boy." His face became grave, and his voice took a -humble tone. "Of course I know I can never, fill the place of Grant -Jones, and I told her that. But I'll do my best to make her happy, and I -think she cares enough for me to let me try." - -Roderick pressed the hand next him resting on the steering wheel. - -"I'm sure you'll be very happy, both of you," he said; "and I -congratulate you, Whitley, old fellow, from the bottom of my heart." - -Whitley looked round and was his gay, light-hearted self once again. - -"Thanks, old chap. Well, Barbara and Ben Bragdon are also ready. We're -only waiting for you and Gail." - -Roderick's face reddened. - -"You're mighty kind but rather premature, I'm afraid." - -"Oh, fudge and nonsense! We're all agreed the thing's settled, or as -good as settled. Great guns anyone with half an eye could have told it, -to see you handing her out of the train a little while ago." - -"Really, Whitley." - -"There now, just forget all that. So when talking matters over with -Bragdon and our dear twins I suggested that we might as well ring the -wedding bells for six as for two at a time--may come cheaper with the -Reverend Grannon, you know, if we hand it to him wholesale." - -Roderick no longer attempted to protest, and Whitley rambled on: "But, -say, old fellow, your Uncle Allen has one on you. He declares that -Gail Holden is just the very girl he intended for you right from the -beginning--the young lady about whom you kicked when you had that row -in the banker's room a year and a half ago--Great Scott, how time does -fly!" - -"Impossible," exclaimed Roderick in profound amazement - -"The very same," replied Whitley. "The little tot of a girl with whom -you had that desperate love affair down the river years and years -ago--oh, quite a pretty story; your uncle told it to me with no end of -charming details. And now he is mighty proud, I can tell you, over his -own foresight and sagacity in picking just the right girl for you at the -very start." - -"He said that, did he?" queried Roderick with a grim smile. - -"Yes, and that if you had followed his advice you could have had her -then, without running away from home and facing all sorts of hardships -and dangers." - -"No, sir," exclaimed Roderick firmly. "Gail Holden is not that sort of -girl. Uncle Allen forgets that she had to be won--or rather has to be -won," he added, correcting himself when he caught the smile on Whitley's -countenance. - -"Well, you won't forget," laughed Whitley, "that I stood out of the -contest and left the way clear for you. Lucky, though, that the College -Widow took the bit between her teeth and bolted, eh, old man?" - -"Hush!" whispered Roderick, throwing a warning glance over his shoulder. - -"What are you two boys talking about?" asked Gail, with a bright smile -from her seat at the back of the tonneau. - -"Old college days," laughed Whitley, as he changed the clutch for a -stiff up-grade. - -Arriving at Encampment, they found Allen Miller walking nervously up -and down the platform in front of the hotel. The red blood in Roderick's -veins surged like fierce hammer strokes, with eagerness to once more -grasp the hand of his old guardian. - -He hastily excused himself, jumped from the auto and grasped the -extended hand of his old guardian. He was soon led away by his uncle -Allen, to the parlors of the hotel, to meet his Aunt Lois. - -"Oh, I am so glad you brought Roderick here, Allen; for I just knew that -I would get all fussed up and cry. - -"There, there, Aunt Lois," said Roderick cheerily, after embracing her -warmly, "we are not going to be separated any more,--or, if we are, -it will not be for long at any one time. I know the way back to old -Keokuk," said Roderick, laughing and hugging his dear aunt Lois again, -"and you and Uncle Allen now know the road out to the Wyoming hills." - -"I declare, Lois," said Uncle Allen, "you and Roderick act like a couple -of school children." He laughed rather loudly as he said this, to hide -his own agitation; but it was noticed that his eyes were filled with -tears, which he hastily brushed away. - -It was a happy luncheon party at the Bonhomme Hotel, Whitley playing -the host to perfection, his guests, besides the new arrivals, being the -whole Shields family, Banker Allen Miller and his wife, and the young -state senator, Ben Bragdon. And early in the proceedings Gail to her -surprise learned that Roderick was no other than her little boy lover on -the river steamer _Diamond Joe_ some fifteen years ago, and blushed -in sweet confusion when Allen Miller in radiant good humor joked about -coming events casting their shadows before. Roderick went to her rescue -and promptly switched the topic of conversation. - -Toward the close of the meal Buell Hampton was expounding to the banker -a great irrigation scheme he had in view--to bring into Encampment -Valley the waters of French Creek and Bear Creek, the former by a tunnel -through the Hunter Range, the latter by a siphon under the Great Platte -River, whereby a hundred thousand acres of rich valley lands, now -wilderness because waterless, could be brought into profitable -agricultural bearing. - -"So you are going to drive us cattle men off the face of the country," -laughed Mr. Shields. - -"Better happy homes than roaming herds," replied Buell Hampton. "What -nobler work could we take in hand?" he asked. "The smelter and the mine -are running themselves now. Let us then see what we can do to make the -desert blossom like the rose. Mr. Miller, Mr. Shields, myself--we can -all help with capital. Mr. Bragdon, there is a life's work for you in -this enterprise." - -"Lawyers always come in for fat pickings," laughed Whitley Adams. - -"General Holden," continued the Major, "I am sure will want to join in -too. Then Roderick--" - -He paused and glanced in his young friend's direction. - -"Oh, I'm prepared to turn in all the gold from my mine," exclaimed -Roderick enthusiastically. - -Indeed Buell Hampton had kindled the spirit of enthusiasm all round. The -project was as good as launched--the dream of a generation of pioneers -within sight of realization. - -When coffee was being served on the veranda, the Major drew Roderick -aside. They were seated alone at a little table. - -"Roderick, my boy," Buell Hampton began, "I want to see you tonight at -my home--all alone. Come about eight o'clock. I have several matters -of importance to communicate. During the afternoon I'll be busy--I have -some banking business to transact, besides I wish an hour or two with -your uncle before my talk with you tonight. I am sorry to leave such -a happy gathering, but am sure"--this with a gentle glance in Gail's -direction--"that the time will not hang heavily on your hands. Until -eight o'clock then," and with a tap on Roderick's shoulder the Major -crossed over and spoke a few words to Allen Miller, the two taking their -departure a few moments later. - -Roderick was mystified--less by Buell Hampton's actual words than by his -grave look and manner. - -Meanwhile Gail had risen and entered the drawing room that opened by -French windows off the veranda, and the sound of her voice at the piano -broke him from his momentary reverie. He rose and joined her. - - - - -CHAPTER XL--BUELL HAMPTON'S GOOD-BY - - -RODERICK was prompt to the minute in keeping his appointment. He found -the Major seated before a bright log-fire, and his first glance around -the old familiar room showed the progress of some unusual preparations. -The open lid of a traveling trunk revealed clothing and books already -packed; the violin in its case rested on the centre table. - -Buell Hampton interpreted his visitor's look of wonderment. - -"Yes, Roderick," he said with a smile that was both tender and serious, -"I am going away. But let us take things in their order. Sit down here, -and let us smoke our pipes together in the old way--perhaps it may be -for the last time in each other's company." - -"Oh, don't say that, my dear Major," protested Roderick, in accents of -real concern. - -But Buell Hampton motioned him to his seat, and passed over the humidor. -For a minute or two they smoked in silence. At last the Major spoke. - -"Roderick, I have news that will greatly surprise you. I had a telegram -from Boney Earnest just before we left San Francisco. I said nothing to -you, for I did not wish with needless haste to disturb your happiness." - -"Not about Gail?" asked Roderick, his face paling. - -"No, no. This has nothing to do with Gail--at least it only affects her -indirectly. You spoke today at lunch time about turning in the profits -of your gold mine into the Encampment Valley irrigation scheme. I want -to put you right on this mining matter first. Boney Earnest's telegram -showed that neither you nor I have a gold mine any longer. Hidden Valley -has disappeared. Our claims are under five hundred feet of water." - -"How could this have happened?" - -"You have read in the newspapers that the cosmic disturbances of the San -Francisco earthquake extended entirely across the continent. Indeed the -shocks were felt distinctly in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and other -Atlantic points. Well, a number of prospectors have been up among the -mountains getting ready to stake around our claims, and they report -that three miles above Spirit Falls a vast new lake has been formed, -completely filling the canyon." - -"The shake brought down the grotto cavern, I suppose." - -"And sealed it, damming back the river. That is undoubtedly what has -happened. So Roderick, my dear fellow, you have to forget that gold. But -of course you know that all I have is yours to share." - -"No, no, Major," exclaimed Roderick, laying a hand on his friend's -shoulder. "Besides your all too generous gift at Denver, I have my -salary from the smelter company, and I'm going to chip in to the limit -of my power for the advancement of that glorious irrigation scheme of -yours. I did without the mine before. Thank God I can do without it now. -My dear father's letter served its purpose--it brought me to Wyoming, -and although I have no right to say so just yet I do believe that it has -won for me Gail Holden's love." - -"I am sure of it," remarked Buell Hampton quietly. "She has loved you -for a long time--you were all in all to her before you followed to San -Francisco, as the poor girl's anguish showed during those days when we -both thought that you had perished." - -"Then, Major," cried Roderick, the light of great joy illuminating -his countenance, "if I have won Gail Holden's love I have won greater -treasure than the treasure of Hidden Valley--greater treasure than all -the gold claims in the world." - -"Spoken like a man," replied Buell Hampton as he gripped Roderick's -hand. The latter continued, his face all aglow: "Everything has come out -right When my Unde Allen refused to help me in my New York ventures he -really saved me from cruel and accursed Wall Street where more hearts -have been broken and lives of good promise wrecked than on all the -battlefields of the world. When he handed me my father's letter, he took -me out of that selfish inferno and sent me here into the sweet pure -air of the western mountains, among men like you, the Reverend Stephen -Grannon, Ben Bragdon, Boney Earnest, and good old Jim Rankin too, -besides our dear dead comrade Grant Jones. Here I have the life worth -living, which is the life compounded of work and love. Love without -work is cloying, work without love is soul-deadening, but love and work -combined can make of earth a heaven." - -"And now you speak like a philosopher," said Buell Hampton approvingly. - -"Which shows that I have been sitting at your feet. Major, for a year -past not altogether in vain," laughed Roderick. "From every point of -view I owe you debts that can never be repaid." - -"Then let me improve this occasion by just one thought, Roderick. It is -in individual unselfishness that lies the future happiness of mankind. -The age of competition has passed, the age of combination for profit -is passing, the age of emulation in unselfishness is about to dawn. The -elimination of selfishness will lead to the elimination of poverty; then -indeed will the regeneration of our social system be begun. Think that -thought, Roderick, my dear fellow, when I am gone." - -It was ever thus that Buell Hampton sought to sow the tiny grain of -mustard seed in fertile soil. - -"But why should you go away, Major?" asked Roderick protestingly. - -"Because duty calls me--my work for humanity demands. But we shall -come to that presently. For the moment I want to recall one of our -conversations in this room--in the early days of our friendship. Do you -remember when I gave it as my opinion that it would be conducive to the -happiness of mankind if there was no abnormal individual wealth in the -world?" - -"That a quarter of a million dollars was ample for the richest man in -the world--I remember every word, Major." - -"Well, Roderick, today I have transferred to your credit in your Unde -Allen's bank precisely this sum." - -"Major, Major, I could never accept such a gift." - -"Just hear me patiently, please. The sum is quite rightfully yours. It -is really only a small fraction of what your father's claim might have -produced for you had I taken you earlier into my full confidence and so -helped you to the location of the rich sandbar with its nuggets of gold. -Moreover, you know me well enough to understand that I count wealth as -only a trust in my hands--a trust for the good of humanity. And I feel -that, in equipping such a man as yourself, a man whom I have tested -out and tried in a dozen different ways without your knowing it--in -equipping you with a sufficient competency I really help to discharge -my trust, for I invest you with the power to do unmeasured good to all -around you. I need not expatiate on such a theme; you have heard my -views many times. In sharing my wealth with you, Roderick, I simply -bring you in as an efficient helper for the uplift of humanity. It -therefore becomes your duty to accept the trust I hand over to you, -cheerfully and wishing you Godspeed with every good work to which you -set your hand." - -"Then, Major, I can but accept the responsibility. I need not tell you -that I shall always try to prove myself worthy of such a trust." - -"I have yet another burden to place on your shoulders. The balance of -the wealth at my present disposal I have also handed over to you--as my -personal trustee. At this moment I do not know when and in what amount -I shall require money for the task I am about to undertake. Later on you -will hear from me. Meanwhile Allen Miller knows that my initial -investment will be equal to his own in the valley irrigation scheme. -You, Roderick, as my trustee may contribute further sums at your -absolute discretion; if the work requires help at any stage, use no -stinting hand irrespective of financial returns for me, because with me -the thing that counts mainly is the happiness and prosperity of this -town, its people, and the surrounding valley lands." - -"But, Major, can't you remain with us and do these things yourself?" - -"No; the call is preemptory. And if perchance you should never hear from -me again, Roderick, continue, I beg of you, to use my money for the good -of humanity. Count it as your own, use it as your own. I lay down no -hard and fast rules to guide you. Give to the poor--give to those in -distress--pay off the usurer's mortgage and stop excessive interest -that makes slaves of the poor family struggling to own a little thatched -cottage. Give wherever your heart is touched--give because it is God's -way and God is prompting you by touching your heart." - -Roderick listened in silence, deeply moved. He saw that Buell Hampton's -mind was made up--that no pleading or remonstrance could alter the -decision at which he had arrived. The Major had now risen from his -chair; there was a softness in the rich full tones of his voice, a look -of half pain in his eyes, as he went on: "But remember, although we may -be parted, our friendship abides--its influences endure. Friendship, -my dear Roderick, is elemental--without commencement and without end--a -discovery. From the beginning of furthest antiquity, the pathway of the -centuries have been lined with tablet-stones pronouncing its virtues. -Friendship is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever. It is an -attraction of personalities and its power is unseen and as subtle as -the lode-stone. It is the motive that impels great deeds of bravery in -behalf of humanity. It speaks to the hearts of those who can hear its -accents of truth and wisdom, and contributes to the highest ideals of -honor, to the development of the sublimest qualities of the soul. It is -the genius of greatness; the handmaiden of humanity. I have sometimes -thought that if we could place in our own souls a harp so delicately -attuned that as every gale of passion, of hope, of sorrow, of love -and of joy swept gently over the chords, then we would hear in the low -plaintive whisperings the melody of friendship's sweetest note--that -quivers and weeps and laughs on the shore line of immortality." - -"Your friendship, Major," said Roderick fervently, "will always be one -of the most deeply cherished things in my life. But I cannot reconcile -myself to the thought that we should part." - -Buell Hampton laid a hand upon the young man's shoulder. - -"Duty calls--the two little words are enough, although it grieves me -sore to think that most likely we shall never meet again. Your work is -here--your usefulness lies here. But as for me, my mission in the hills -is finished. I am going to a far away country--not a new one, because -there are many in squalor and poverty where duty leads me. There I will -begin again my labors for the lowly and the poor--for those who are -carrying an unjust portion of life's burdens. There is no lasting -pleasure in living, my dear Roderick, unless we help hasten the age -of humanity's betterment. Good-by," concluded the Major, smiling into -Roderick's eyes and pressing his hand warmly--"good-by." - -Almost dazed by the suddenness of the parting Roderick Warfield found -himself out in the darkness of the night He was stunned by the thought -that he had gripped his dear friend's hand perhaps for the last -time--that there had gone out of his life the one man whom above all -others he honored and loved. - -Thus passed Buell Hampton from among the people of the hills. None of -his intimates in or around Encampment ever saw him again. - - - - -CHAPTER XLI.---UNDER THE BIG PINE - - -ON the following afternoon Roderick saddled his pony Badger and rode -over to the Conchshell ranch. The Holdens received the news of Buell -Hampton's mysterious departure with deep regret; the Major had become -very dear to their hearts, how dear they only fully realized now that he -was gone. - -It was toward evening when Gail proposed that they go riding in the -woods. The invitation delighted Roderick, and Fleetfoot and Badger were -speedily got ready. - -"Let us follow the old timber road to the south," Roderick suggested. "I -want to show you, only a few miles from here, a beautiful lake." - -"I know of no such lake," she replied. - -"Yet it is less than five miles away, and we shall christen it Spirit -Lake, if you like the name, for it lies above Spirit Falls." - -"You are dreaming. There is no such lake." - -"I will show it to you. Come along." - -Upward and onward he led her over the range. And when they gained the -summit, there at their feet lay the great new lake about which Buell -Hampton had told him, fully seven miles long and two miles wide, and not -less than six or seven hundred feet deep as Roderick knew, for he had -gathered nuggets of gold on the floor of the little canyon now submerged -beneath the placid blue waters. - -Gail gazed in silent admiration. At last she exclaimed: "Spirit Lake! It -is well named. It is more like a dream than reality." - -He helped her from the saddle. They tethered their mounts in western -fashion by throwing the reins over the horses' heads. They were standing -under the branches of a big pine, and again they gazed over the waters. -At the lower end of the lake was a most wonderful waterfall, dashing -sheer down some four hundred feet into Spirit River. - -For several minutes they continued to gaze in enraptured silence on -the scene of tranquil beauty. Toward the east the forest was darkly -purple--to the west, across the waters, the hills were silhouetted in -splendid grandeur against a magnificent sunset. The whole range seemed -clothed in a robe of finest tapestry. The sun was rapidly approaching -the rim of the western horizon. - -The afterglow of the red sunset marked paths of rippling gold on the -waters. Vague violet shadows of dusk were merging over all. Nature was -singing the lyric of its soul into things--crooning lake and mountains -and forest-clad slopes to slumber. - -It was Gail who at last broke the spell. - -"Oh, how beautiful, how supremely beautiful," she murmured. - -"Well, it is the earthquake that has wrought all this wonderful change," -explained Roderick'. "And now, dear Gail, I have a story to tell you." - -And, seating her on the turf by his side, under the big pine, where -the waters lapped at their very feet, he proceeded to relate the whole -romantic story of his father's lost find--his own lost claim. By the -time the narrative was ended the sun had set behind the hills. Roderick -rose, and giving his hands, helped Gail to her feet. - -"So all this wonderful treasure of Hidden Valley lies beneath these -waters," she exclaimed. - -"Yes, but for me the real treasure is here by my side." - -As he spoke these words his arm stole around her waist. She did not -appear to notice his half timid embrace as together they stood viewing -the panorama of a dying day. Presently he drew her closer. - -"The day and the night blend," he whispered softly as if fearful -of disturbing the picture. "Shall not our lives, sweetheart," asked -Roderick with vibrant voice, "likewise blend forever and forever?" - -Gail half turning lifted her slender hands to Roderick's cheeks and he -quickly clasped her tightly in his strong arms and kissed her madly on -lips, eyes and silken hair. - -"Roderick, my lover--my king," said Gail through pearly tears of joy. - -"My little Gail," whispered Roderick, exultantly, "my sweetheart--my -queen." - -Slowly the light of day vanished. The sounds of night began walking -abroad in the world. Dusk wrapped these lovers in its mantle. The day -slept and night brooded over forest, lake and hills. - -In a little while they lifted the bridle reins of their mounts and -turning walked arm in arm down the old timber road toward Conchshell -ranch. - -They halted in the darkness and Roderick said: "Do you mind, dear, if I -smoke?" - -"Certainly not," was her cheery reply. - -He bit the cigar and struck a match. The fight reflected on Gail's -radiant face. "Wonderful," he ejaculated as he tossed the match away, -laughing softly. He had quite forgotten to light his cigar. - -"Why, what did you see, Roderick, you silly fellow, that is so -wonderful?" - -"I saw," said Roderick, "the dearest little woman in the wide, wide -world--my mountain song girl--who is going to be kissed with all the -pent-up passion of a 'grizzly' in just one-half second." - - - - -AFTERWORD - - -Into the warp and woof of my story of the West, "The Treasure of Hidden -Valley," there have been woven a few incidents of the great calamity -that some years ago befell the city of San Francisco. Perhaps some of my -readers will care to peruse a more detailed description of that tragic -happening. - -W. G. E. - - -IT was on April 18, 1906, that San Francisco was shaken by a terrible -earthquake which in its final effects resulted in the city being -cremated into cinders and gray ashes. - -The trembling, gyrating, shaking and swaying vibrations, the swiftly -following outbursts of fire, the cries of those pinned beneath fallen -dbris and of the thousands who were seeking to escape by fleeing into -the parks and toward the open country, produced the wildest pandemonium. - -While there was no wind, yet a hundred fires originating at different -points quickly grew into sheets of towering flame and spread to adjacent -buildings, burning with demoniacal fierceness as if possessed by some -unseen mysterious power, pouring forth red hot smoke until the prostrate -city was melted into ruin by the intense heat of a veritable hell. - -The night of April 17 and 18 had almost ended in San Francisco. It had -been like many another night in that cosmopolitan city. Pleasure-seekers -were legion,--negligent, care-free, wrapped in the outward show of -things--part of it good--part of it not so good--some of it downright -wicked as in Ancient Pompeii. Yet the hour was late--or early, whichever -you will--even for San Francisco. The clock in the city hall had -resounded forth five strokes. Peaceful folk were in the realm of dreams -that precede awakening. The roistering hundreds of a drunken night had -gathered in places of vice and were sleeping away the liquor fumes. The -streets were almost deserted. - -The great printing presses that had been reverberating with the thunders -of a Jove, gathering and recording the news from the four quarters of -the earth, had paused and all was still. Here and there morning papers -were on the streets and the preliminary work was in progress of sending -them forth to the front doorsteps of the homes of rich and poor, from -one end of the city to the other. Then, without warning, just eighteen -minutes after the city clock had tolled its five strokes, one of the -greatest news items and tragedies of the world's history was enacted. -An historical milestone of the centuries was on that eventful morning -chiseled on the shore line of the Pacific Coast. - -Suddenly from the womb of sleeping silence, from far below the earth's -crust, just as the dawn of a new day began purpling the eastern sky, -there came forth a rumbling and muttering of unearthly noises like the -collapsing of palaces of glass or the clanking of giant chains. It came -from beneath the entire city and was borne upward and abroad on the -startled wings of a mysterious fear. It was a shrieking, grinding -confusion of subterranean thunder, like the booming of heavy artillery -in battle. It was deafening in its dreadfulness, and drove terror to -the heart of the hardiest. It sounded to the affrighted people as if two -mighty armies of lusty giants of the underworld were grappling in -mortal combat and in their ferocious anger were unwittingly breaking -the earth's fragile shell into yawning cracks and criss-cross fissures. -Mount Tamalpais was fluttering like the wings of a snared pigeon. - -In the space of seconds, the whole populace awoke, excepting those who -had answered the last call; for some there were, pinned under falling -walls, who were overtaken by swift death in the very act of awakening. - -The uncounted number that were crushed to death and had life's door -closed to them forever, no one will ever know. In the forty-eight -seconds that followed the beginning of the deep guttural bellowing -of hideous noises from somewhere below the earth's surface, buildings -rocked and heaved and twisted, while heavy objects of household -furniture were tumbled across rooms from one corner to the other and the -occupants helplessly tossed from their beds. - -Such an awakening, such lamentations, such cursing, such prayers, and -then into the debris-littered streets the multitude began pouring forth, -half-clothed, wild and panic-stricken. - -The stunning shock, like a succession of startled heart-beats, lasted -twelve seconds less than one minute, but those who experienced -the ordeal say it seemed an eternity--forty-eight seconds--terrible -seconds--of sickening, swaying suspense. A heaving earth, jerking, -pulsing to and fro in mad frenzy, while countless buildings were swaying -and keeping time to a wild hissing noise like the noise of boiling, -blubbering fat in a rendering caldron. - -It was the dawn of a new day abounding in hideous noises--detonations of -falling masonry, the crash of crumbling, crushing walls, the shrieks -of maimed and helpless victims--and all the people stupefied with a -terrible fear, women weeping in hysterical fright and everyone expectant -of they knew not what, unable to think coherently or reason, yet their -voices filling the stricken city with cries and moans of heart-rending -terror and lamentation. And all the while there came up from somewhere -an unearthly threatening roar that awed the multitude into unnatural -submissive bewilderment. - -At the end of eight and forty seconds the frantically tossed earth -quieted--became normal and was still. Some of the buildings righted and -were quiescent, and a moment of silence followed, except for the crowing -of cocks, the whinnying of frightened horses and the whining of cowering -dogs. This condition, however, was only of momentary duration. - -Almost immediately the streets became a wild scene of turmoil as the -half-clothed, half-crazed men, women and children went rushing up and -down in every direction, they knew not why nor where. Doors were broken -open to allow egress, shutters were slammed, windows were hastily -raised, and like a myriad of ants the rest of the people who until now -had been penned up, struggled forth into open ways--thinly clad, some -almost naked, trembling, gazing about awe-stricken, looking each at his -fellow, indifferent to the destruction going on about them, each filled -with prayerful thankfulness for life. Then, like a rehearsed orchestra -of many voices, there arose, seemingly in unison, a chorus of -heart-piercing wails and calls from thousands of throats for loved -ernes--loved ones lost who could not answer. - -In the pale light of that April dawn, this vast army of survivors, while -chilled with outward cold, shivered also with an unspeakable inward -dread. - -Along the streets of proud San Francisco in every direction were huge -masses of bricks, cornices, fallen ragged chimneys and walls, tumbled -together in complex dykes of dbris like the winrows of a hay field -and interspersed with the dead and dying bodies of man and horse alike, -vanquished in life's uneven contest. - -A little later in the vicinity of the ten-million-dollar courthouse, -crowds of frightened people gathered, attracted perhaps by the terrific -thundering of the mammoth stone slabs and concrete sides and columns of -the structure, as, in their loosened condition from the steel skeleton, -they kept crashing down upon the street in riotous disorder. - -Every block in the city held its tragedy, its silent evidence of a -mighty internal upheaving of Goliath strength. There were hundreds -of dead, while others lay maimed in tortured suffering, buried under -wreckage, pinned down by the giant hands of the Angel of Destruction. -The unfortunates still living were fastened like insects caught in -traps, helpless, but hoping for relief, awaiting the unwritten chapter -that was yet to come. - -The great earthquake of San Francisco had spent its force--its rude -results lay in careless disheveled evidence on every hand--and now the -nerve-strained, half-crazed and bewildered people caught the sound of -fire bells clanging hurriedly into nearer distances. - -The fire hose and the corps of hook and ladder men came rushing with -all speed, drawn by frenzied horses, hastily turning street corners and -dashing around fallen walls while the automatic fire bells were cutting -the air in metallic, staccato beats of wildest alarm. Soon the throbbing -of the fire engines began and false hope sprung rife in the hearts of -the people. Those running south on Market Street paused in bewilderment, -not knowing which way to go, for fire calls and flames were evident, -not in one location nor two, but in hundreds at widely separated places -throughout the erstwhile magnificent metropolis of the Occident. - -Black columns of smoke began rising from ominous red furnace flames -beneath, and curled lazily into the balm of the upper air, indifferent -to the wails of the helpless unfortunates maimed and pinned beneath the -wrecked buildings of a demolished and burning city. - -The murky smoke like mourning crape hung mutely above, while beneath -its canopy life's sacrificial offering lay prostrate, the dying and -the dead. The consuming flames spread quickly, and the horror of the -hopeless condition of the injured was soon apparent, while the sobs -and cries of the doomed victims became maddening because of the very -impotency to succor them. - -The suddenness of it all did not give time for the rescuers. Then too, -the smoke-blinded and half-choked people in the crowded, congested -streets were stampeding toward the open country--to Golden Gate Park and -the Presidio. Many of the trapped victims, well and strong, might have -escaped but could not exert normal power to shake off the fetters -that held them down under fallen wreckage too heavy for their hampered -strength. It was a veritable bedlam, some cursing, some praying, most -all crying loudly as if in crazed pain for assistance. - -The first paroxysm passed, the poor unfortunates seemingly became more -patient, believing that relief would surely come. The crackling flames -mounted higher and came alarmingly nearer. Finally, as the conflagration -with a hurried sweep began to envelop these pinioned human beings, they -shrieked in agony like lost souls in terrible anguish at a most horrible -and certain death. Their voices rose with the rising of the flames until -at last the piteous cries were hushed perforce, and only the crackling -sound of burning wood and the forked tongues of raging red fire greeted -the sun, that morning of April 18, as it climbed above the eastern -mountains and looked upon the scene of woeful destruction. - -Is it any wonder that strong men wept? Is it to be marveled at that -those separated from friends and relatives grew bewildered, frantic and -crazed with grief and fear, and that chaos reigned supreme? - -Gradually amid the whirl of emotions there stepped forth men who until -now had been stunned into silence and temporarily bereft of reason. The -first staggering shock passed, they became possessed in a measure with -calmness and courage. They girded their belts afresh and although many -of them began by cursing the heartless, cruel fire and the terribleness -of it all, they quickly and determinedly turned to the stupendous work -of endeavoring to subdue its ravages. - -Then a new terror raised its ghostly head and held the people in a grip -of deepest despair. The earthquake had broken the supplying water mains, -and presently the city was without water and the fire engines and other -fire-fighting apparatus were worthless junk. It was a grievous blow to -momentarily raised hopes and courageous resolution. - -The flames raged on with the fleetness of race horses, eating out the -heart of the city, burning it into cinders, and cremating the flesh and -bone of fallen victims. - -Dynamite was brought into use, gunny sacks and bedding of all sorts were -saturated with water from barrels and tanks. Grappling hooks and human -hands made up the armament of puny defense against the over-powering and -masterful flames of annihilation. - -Against these feeble weapons, the grim demon of fire planned an attack -of certain devastation. It was as if his Satanic Majesty with all his -imps were in their ruthless cunning directing a fiendish work that would -permit no record but death to the unfortunate, no record to the proud -city but gaunt-ribbed skeleton buildings, red hot cinders and blackened -ash heaps. - -Overturned stoves in a thousand houses throughout the residential -districts had early started a multitude of fires and split the -fire-fighters into many divisions, and therefore into less effective -units in their futile efforts even partially to check the mighty -master--the devouring tempest of fire that crackled and sported in its -insatiable greed. - -There was still to follow yet another misfortune, an execrable -crime--that of wicked inhuman incendiarism. At places flames burst forth -kindled by the hands of a coterie of merciless ghouls. These inhuman -devils added to the calamities heaped upon their fellows by setting fire -to unburned dwellings whose owners had fled. There was neither necessity -nor reason for their dastardly acts. With sponges soaked in kerosene, -they did this damnable work--indulging dreams perhaps of greater loot, -greed and avarice in their cruel eyes, blackest hell in their debauched -hearts. - -In the beginning of this losing fight with terrors of the fire king, -seemingly unconquerable, only one ray of hope was discernible--there -was no wind from ocean or bay in San Francisco that April morning. The -clouds that filled the heavens with ominous blackness were only stifling -smoke from the burning buildings below. - -High above the crimson snake-tongued flames the black smoke hung like a -pall, silent and motionless, while fringing it around far away in every -direction was the clear blue sky, serene, unfathomable. - -As the heroic work of fighting the fire demon progressed, it was soon -discovered that the police were insufficient. Crowds of ghouls were -pressing the firemen, while robbery, rapine and murder ran riot. Human -blood that day was easily spilled. For the sake of pelf and plunder, -life was cheap. - -The boldness of this lawless condition brought about its own remedy. -Strong men arose in their might. Under able leadership they quickly -formed a committee of safety. The National Guard was sent to help them. - -General Fred Funston of the U. S. Army telegraphed to the Secretary of -War for authority, and within three hours was hurrying United States -troops into the burning city, and immediately placed it under martial -law. The crowds were quickly driven back by the soldiers, fire lines -were established, government troops, guards and police all bent nobly to -the task of endeavoring to subdue the flames. Buildings were dynamited -to shut off the fire's progress, insubordinate as well as predatory -ruffians were shot down without mercy, and thus was order brought out of -chaos. But as the hours went by, despite all efforts, the gormandizing -flames consumed acres and acres of buildings. - -Every wandering automobile was pressed into service and loaded with -dynamite. Thus for hour after hour the losing fight with the merciless -flames went on. - -As the fire burnt its way south on Market Street, the isolated centers -crept toward each other with ever widening circles of flame. While there -was no breeze to fan them on, yet the flames seemed possessed of some -invisible means of progression--an unseen spirit of continued expansion -lurked within. The buildings were like so much dry timber, igniting -without direct contact of spark or flame, only from the tremendous heat -that was generated. Sweeping on and on the different conflagrations at -last came together--joined in greater strength, flared up hundreds of -feet high, until it looked as if the entire city was one vast molten -lake of undulating waves of fire. - -The roar of the flames could be heard far beyond the confines of the -city--the immense columns and clouds of black smoke continued to sweep -upward, until high aloft they spread out into the great canopy as if in -shame they fain would hide from angels above the terrible destruction -being wrought in this fiery pit below. - -As the hours went by, the exodus of people continued. The fascination of -it all held the multitudes spell-bound. They for a time were forgetful -of hunger, but moved on, this way and that as the burning districts -compelled them to go. The public parks began to fill with refugees. The -Presidio and the hills overlooking the city were blackened with throngs -of people shivering from cold and beginning to suffer the pangs of -hunger, the rich and the poor touching shoulders, condoling one with -the other in lamentations. This surging mass of famishing humanity were -clothed, or partially clothed, in strange and ridiculous costumes. - -Household goods littered the outlying streets. Most of the wayfarers who -reached the country had little luggage. Many had carried some useless -article nearest at hand, selected in their hurry without thought of its -value or utility. - -One woman held a bird cage under her arm--empty, with the door swinging -open. Another carried a carving knife in one hand and a feather-bedecked -hat of gaudiness in the other. One man was seen dragging an old -leather-bound trunk by a rope--investigation proved the trunk to be -without contents. - -Notwithstanding the people had lost their all, and in most cases were -famishing, yet the great mass were good-natured and tolerant, the strong -helping the weak. The chivalry of the West and its rugged manhood abided -in their midst There was a common brotherhood in the ranks of these -homeless human beings. Distinctions between rich and poor were -obliterated--they were all fellow refugees. - -No street cars were running in the city. Market Street, into which the -greater number of street car railroad tracks converged, was littered -with fallen buildings, useless hose and fire fighting apparatus, twisted -beams, cinders, heaps of hot ashes and charred bodies of the dead. - -It was about eleven o'clock in the morning of the first day of this -terrible devastation that the famous Palace Hotel had finally been -emptied of its last guest. The rooms throughout were bestrewn with -fallen plaster from ceiling and walls, but otherwise, strange to -narrate, the structure had suffered but little damage from the -earthquake while all around were collapsed and fallen buildings. - -At the Mission Street side of the building and on the roof the employees -had fought bravely to save this noted hostelry. But as the noon hour -approached they gave up all hope. Hurrying through the rooms of the -departed guests in an endeavor to save, if possible, abandoned luggage, -they gossiped about the "yellow streak," as they called it, of a -world-noted singer--a guest of the hotel--who had been frightened almost -to death by the earthquake and developed evidence of rankest selfishness -in his mad efforts to save himself. - -Then in sadder tones they talked of the impending and inevitable -destruction of the magnificent hotel, where most of them had been -employed for years. As the heat from the on-sweeping flames began to be -unbearable, they hurried away one by one until the famous caravansary -was finally deserted by man and in full possession of the ruthless -devouring flames. - -Great crowds stood on Montgomery Street near the site of the Union Trust -Building and watched the burning of the Palace Hotel. Held back by -the soldiers in mournful silence, the mass of people watched the -angry flames leaping from roof and windows. Soon the fire spread to the -Grand Hotel across the street. The flames shot up higher, and then when -their task of destruction was finally finished, gradually sank down -until nothing but roofless, windowless, bare bleak walls, gaunt, -blackened and charred, were left--a grim ghost of the old hotel that -boasted of a million guests during its gorgeous days of usefulness, -and around which twined a thousand memories of the golden days of the -Argonauts of California. - -Half a block away a newspaper building had been blown up by dynamite--a -similar attempt with the Monadnock Building failed of its purpose. - -When night finally fell, those on the north side of Market Street -rejoiced greatly, for it seemed that the fire, at least in the down-town -business district, had burned itself into submission. So said a -well-known milliner for men, as he ate a huge steak at a famous resort -on the ocean shore and indulged heavily in champagne in celebration of -the saving of his premises. He celebrated a day too soon--the following -morning his business house was in ashes. - -To the few who were care-free in the sense that they had not lost -relatives or friends, the panorama of the fire when darkness came -on will never be forgotten because of the wonderful pyrotechnic -display--the magnificent yet appalling splendor and beauty of the -burning city. - -The scene was set as by a wonder-hand of stagecraft. The fire was raging -fiercely in an immense pit--topographically the lowest part of the city. -Around this pit the rising ground, like a Greek amphitheatre, stretched -up toward the Sutro Estate and Ricon Hill on the one side and toward -California Street, Nob and Telegraph Hills on the other. To the east -was Alcatraz like a sentinel in the waters; across the Bay the cities -of Alameda, Oakland and Berkeley. On every vantage point the people -gathered--on the heights of Alcatraz and on the roofs of buildings in -the trans-bay cities. In silence they gazed at the awe-inspiring drama -of destruction that was being enacted before them. - -With the advance of night, the towering flames in this vast sweep -of many miles of a circular fire line presented a scene that defies -description. The general color effect was of a deep blood red, while -the smoke as a background to the picture belched up in rolling black -volumes, with here and there long forks of flashing fire shooting above -the deep crimson glow of the mighty furnace. - -Before the roaring billows of flame the tallest buildings were as tinder -wood in their helplessness. The Call Building, lifting its head high -above its neighbors, was like an ignited match-box set on end. The -living flaming wall behind overtopped it as a giant does a pigmy. - -Nine o'clock! Ten o'clock! Midnight!--and those who watched and waited -and slept not, with nothing but excitement to stay their hunger, saw in -the lurid light that by a flank movement the fire had unexpectedly crept -far up Montgomery Street from the Ferry. The trade winds were stirring. -The fire, in its pulsing undulations, presented the lure and the -sensuous poetry of death. It barred all trespassing on the one side and -burnt its way through on the other. It was seen that the entire banking -district was doomed. Alas, the feeble protests of feeble men! It was -a wild outlaw, untamed and untamable fire, that defied all human -interference. - -And Chinatown--the world-noted Chinatown of San Francisco--what of -that? It too had gone the way of annihilation. They say brutality was -practiced, and it is whispered to this day that those in charge of -dynamiting the Chinatown section of the city were careless and did not -warn the inmates of opium dens--it is said they blew up many buildings -that held within them, or in the grottoes beneath, innumerable inmates. -Whether or not this is true no one can positively say. If true, there -is some excuse. The Chinese dwellings were honey-combed underground with -dark and devious passages, and it was perhaps impossible, for lack of -time and dearth of knowledge how to penetrate these hidden recesses, to -warn the drugged dreamers. - -In this district the fire raged as if possessed by a million devils. -Over the city's tenderloin on the edge of Chinatown, it swept with a -flame of reckless wrath and purification. Buildings whose very timbers -were steeped in vice and immorality burned into ashes of cleanliness. -The haunts of the lustful, the wine-bibber and the dope-fiend were -consumed in a fashion horrible, terrible, pitiless and final. - -The city was burned into scrap iron of contortioned steel beams, ragged -chimneys half broken and heaps of blackened cinder. As the hours went -by it seemed the fire continually found new fuel to feed upon in its -savagery and madness. The accumulation of days and years of human labor -crumbled into nothingness. Thousands, then hundreds of thousands, then -millions, until the enormous total reached $600,000,000 of wealth that -was melted away in this fiery crucible! - -Egypt, cursed by Moses and weeping for its firstborn, was in no more -pitiable plight than this calamity-visited city of San Francisco shaken -by earthquake shock, then swept by fire. - -Four and one-half miles one way the fire travelled, then four and -one-half miles the other it burned its devastating way. Behind it in -its path of ruin were only cracked granite walls, twisted steel girders, -crumbling and broken cornices; before it, a scattering field of a few -untouched buildings yet to conquer. - -A Nero with an evil eye on a city's undoing, and the power of a wicked -tyrant to fulfill his sordid wish, could have been no more ruthless in -his dastardly heartless methods of destruction. - -When the fire was finally ended the buildings that had been burned, if -placed in a row, would have extended for two hundred miles in a straight -line. - -Never in the world's history has there been such a fire. The burning -of ancient London was child's play beside it. Chicago's fire was a mere -bagatelle. Never has the world read, never had the world dreamed, of -such a conflagration. In days to come, grandfathers will tell of it -to their grandchildren, nodding their sage old heads to emphasize the -horror of it all, relating to the young people who gather about their -knees, how great buildings supposed to be fire-proof crumpled up before -the swirling sheets of melting flame and the entire city became a prey -to the all-devouring conqueror. And this is the tragic story of proud -San Francisco, cosmic-tossed and fire-beleaguered capital of the -Occident. - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by -Willis George Emerson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY *** - -***** This file should be named 52461-8.txt or 52461-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/4/6/52461/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by Google Books - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Treasure of Hidden Valley - -Author: Willis George Emerson - -Release Date: June 30, 2016 [EBook #52461] -Last Updated: August 2, 2016 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by Google Books - - - - - - -</pre> - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - </h1> - <h2> - By Willis George Emerson - </h2> - <h4> - Chicago: Forbes & Company - </h4> - <h3> - 1915 - </h3> - <p class="indent15"> - Sons of the rugged, rock-ribbed hills, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Far from the gaudy show - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Of Fashion’s world-its shams and frills - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Brothers of rain and snow: - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Kith of the crags and the forest pines, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Kin of the herd and flock; - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Wise in the lore of Nature signs - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Writ in the grass and rock. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Beings of lithe and lusty limb, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Breathing the broad, new life, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Chanting the forest’s primal hymn - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Free from the world’s crude strife. - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Your witching lure my being thrills, - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - O rugged sons! O rugged hills! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0002.jpg" alt="0002 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0002.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0010.jpg" alt="0010 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0010.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <h3> - DEDICATED - </h3> - <h3> - TO - </h3> - <h3> - THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER - </h3> - <h3> - REVEREND STEPHEN LAFAYETTE EMERSON - </h3> - <h3> - (The Flockmaster of this story) - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO! </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE - MOUNTAINS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE - NIGHT </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE - FRONTIER </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE - WIDOW </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> AFTERWORD </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY - </h1> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was a dear, - crisp October morning. There was a shrill whistle of a locomotive, and - then a westbound passenger train dashed into the depot of an Iowa town. A - young man descended the car steps with an armful of luggage. He deposited - his parcels on the platform, and half expectantly looked about him. - </p> - <p> - Just then there was a “honk! honk!” from a huge automobile as - it came to a palpitating halt, and a familiar voice called out: “Hello, - Roderick, old man!” And a moment later Roderick Warfield was shaking - hands with his boon friend of former college days, Whitley Adams. Both - were in their early twenties, stalwart, well set up, clean-cut young - fellows. - </p> - <p> - Whitley’s face was all aglow in the happiness of reunion. But - Roderick, after the first cordial greeting, wore a graver look. He - listened quietly while his comrade rambled on. - </p> - <p> - “Mighty glad to receive your wire last night at the club. But what - brings you home so unexpectedly? We’ve been hearing all sorts of - glowing stories—about your being in the thick of affairs in little - old New York and rolling in the shekels to beat the band.” - </p> - <p> - “Fairy tales,” was the laconic reply, accompanied by a look - that was compounded of a sigh and a wistful smile. - </p> - <p> - “How’s that?” asked young Adams, glancing up into the - other’s face and for the first time noticing its serious expression. - “Don’t tell me you’ve struck a financial snag thus early - in your Stock Exchange career.” - </p> - <p> - “Several financial snags—and struck ‘em pretty badly - too, I’m afraid.” - </p> - <p> - “Whew!” exclaimed Adams. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’m not down and out,” laughed Roderick, half - amused at the look of utter discomfiture on his companion’s - countenance. “Not by a long chalk! I’m in on several good - deals, and six months from date will be standing on velvet. That is to - say,” he added, somewhat dubiously, “if Uncle Allen opens up - his money bags to tide me over meanwhile.” - </p> - <p> - “A pretty big ‘if,’ eh?” For the moment there was - sympathetic sobriety in the youth’s tone, but he quickly regained - his cheerfulness. “However, he’ll come through probably all - right, Rod, dear boy. It’s the older fellows’ privilege, isn’t - it? My good dad has had the same experience, as you will no doubt have - guessed. There, let me see; how long have you been away? Eight months! - Gee! However, I have just gotten home myself. My old man was a bit furious - at my tardiness in coming and the geometrical increase of my expense - account. To do Los Angeles and San Francisco thoroughly, you know, runs - into a pot of money. But now everything is fixed up after a fashion with - no evidence in sight of further squalls.” He laughed the laugh of an - overgrown boy laboring under the delusion that because he has finished a - collegiate course he is a “man.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course,” he continued with a swagger, “we chaps who - put in four long years at college should not be expected to settle down - without having some sort of a valedictory fling.” - </p> - <p> - “There has not been much of a fling in my case,” protested - Warfield. “I tackled life seriously in New York from the start.” - </p> - <p> - “But got a tumble all the same,” grinned Adams. “However, - there’s no use in pulling a long face—at least not until your - Uncle Allen has been interviewed and judiciously put through his paces. - Come now, let us get your things aboard.” - </p> - <p> - The conversation was halted while the young owner of the big 60 H. P. car - helped his chauffeur to stow away the luggage. “To the club,” - he called out as he seated himself in the tonneau with his boyhood friend—college - chum and classmate. - </p> - <p> - “Not this morning!” exclaimed Roderick, shaking his head as he - looked frankly and a bit nervously into the eyes of Whitley Adams. “No - club for me until I have squared things up on the hill.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, just as you say; if it’s as bad as that, why of - course—” He broke off and did not finish the sentence, but - directed the chauffeur to the residence of Allen Miller, the banker. - </p> - <p> - They rode a little way in silence and then Whitley Adams observed: “You’ve - made a muddle of things, no doubt,” and he turned with a knowing - look and a smile toward Roderick, who in turn flushed, as though hit. - </p> - <p> - “No doubt,” he concurred curtly. - </p> - <p> - “Then when shall I see you?” asked Whitley as the auto slowed - down at the approach to the stately Miller home. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll ‘phone you,” replied Roderick. “Think - I can arrange to be at the club this evening.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said his friend, and a minute later he had - whirled away leaving a cloud of dust in the trail of the machine. - </p> - <p> - Roderick Warfield met with a motherly reception at the hands of his Aunt - Lois, Mrs. Allen Miller. The greetings over and a score of solicitous - questions by his Aunt Lois answered, he went to his room for a bath and a - change of clothes. Then without further delay he presented himself at the - bank, and in a few moments was closeted in the president’s private - room with his uncle and guardian, Allen Miller. - </p> - <p> - The first friendly greetings were soon followed by the banker skidding - from social to business considerations. “Yes,” said Allen - Miller, “I am glad to see you, Roderick, mighty glad. But what do - you mean by writing a day ahead that a good big sum is required - immediately, this without mention of securities or explanation of any - kind?“ He held up in his hand a letter that ran to just a few - niggardly lines. “This apology for a business communication only - reached me by last night’s mail.” - </p> - <p> - The kindly look of greeting had changed to one that was fairly flinty in - its hardness. “What am I to expect from such a demand? A bunch of - unpaid accounts, I suppose.” As he uttered this last sentence, there - was a wicked twang in his voice—a suggestion of the snarl of an - angry wolf ready for a fierce encounter. It at least proved him a - financier. - </p> - <p> - A flush of resentment stole over Roderick’s brow. His look was more - than half-defiant. On his side it showed at once that there would be no - cringing for the favor he had come to ask. - </p> - <p> - But he controlled himself, and spoke with perfect calm. - </p> - <p> - “My obligations are not necessarily disgraceful ones, as your manner - and tone, Uncle, might imply. As for any detailed explanation by letter, I - thought it best to come and put the whole business before you personally.” - </p> - <p> - “And the nature of the business?” asked the banker in a dry - harsh voice. - </p> - <p> - “I am in a big deal and have to find my <i>pro rata</i> contribution - immediately.” - </p> - <p> - “A speculative deal?” rasped the old man. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I suppose it would be called speculative, but it is gilt-edged - all the same. I have all the papers here, and will show them to you.” - He plunged a hand into the breast pocket of his coat and produced a neatly - folded little bundle of documents. - </p> - <p> - “Stop,” exclaimed the banker. “You need not even undo - that piece of tape until you have answered my questions. A speculative - deal, you admit.” - </p> - <p> - “Be it so.” - </p> - <p> - “A mining deal, may I ask?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick’s face showed some confusion. But he faced the issue - promptly and squarely. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, a mining deal.” - </p> - <p> - The banker’s eyes fairly glittered with steely wrathfulness. - </p> - <p> - “As I expected. By gad, it seems to run in the blood! Did I not warn - you, when you insisted on risking your meagre capital of two thousand - dollars in New York instead of settling down with what would have been a - comfortable nest egg here, that if you ever touched mining it would be - your ruin? Did I not tell you your father’s story, how the lure of - prospecting possessed him, how he could never throw it off, how it doomed - him to a life of hardship and poverty, and how it would have left you, his - child, a pauper but for an insurance policy which it was his one redeeming - act of prudence in carrying?” - </p> - <p> - “Please do not speak like that of my father,” protested - Roderick, drawing himself up with proud - </p> - <p> - The banker’s manner softened; a kindlier glow came into his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, boy, you know I loved your father. If your father had only - followed my path he would have shared my prosperity. But it was not to be. - He lost all he ever made in mining, and now you are flinging the little - provision his death secured for you into the same bottomless pool. And - this despite all my warnings, despite my stern injunctions so long as it - was my right as your guardian to enjoin. The whole thing disgusts me more - than words can tell.” - </p> - <p> - Into the banker’s voice the old bitterness, if not the anger, had - returned. He rose and restlessly paced the room. A silence followed that - was oppressive. Roderick Warfield’s mind was in the future; he was - wondering what would happen should his uncle remain obdurate. The older - man’s mind was in the past; he was recalling events of the long ago. - </p> - <p> - Roderick Warfield’s father and Allen Miller had as young men braved - perils together in an unsuccessful overland trip when the great California - gold rush in the early fifties occurred. At that time they were only boys - in their ‘teens. Years afterward they married sisters and settled - down in their Iowa homes—or tried to settle down in Warfield’s - case, for in his wanderings he had been smitten with the gold fever and he - remained a mining nomad to the end of his days. Allen Miller had never - been blessed with a child, and it was not until late in their married life - that any addition came to the Warfield family. This was the beginning of - Roderick Warfield’s career, but cost the mother’s life. Ten - years later John Warfield died and his young son Roderick was given a home - with Mr. and Mrs. Allen Miller, the banker accepting the guardianship of - his old friend’s only child. - </p> - <p> - The boy’s inheritance was limited to a few thousand dollars of life - insurance, which in the hands of anyone but Allen Miller would have fallen - far short of putting him through college. However, that was not only - accomplished, but at the close of a fairly brilliant college career the - young man had found himself possessed of a round couple of thousand - dollars. Among his college friends had been the son of a well-to-do New - York broker, and it was on this friend’s advice that Roderick had at - the outset of his business life adventured the maelstrom of Gotham instead - of accepting the placid backwaters of his Iowan home town. Hence the young - man’s present difficulties and precarious future, and his uncle’s - bitterness of spirit because all his past efforts on Roderick’s - account had proved of such little avail. - </p> - <p> - At last the banker resumed his chair. The tightly closed lips showed that - his mind was made up to a definite line of action. Roderick awaited the - decision in silence—it was not in his nature to plead a cause at the - cost of losing his own self-respect He had already returned the unopened - bundle of mining papers to the inner pocket of his coat. - </p> - <p> - “As for any advance to meet speculative mining commitments,” - began the man of finance, “I do not even desire to know the amount - you have had in mind. That is a proposition I cannot even entertain—on - principle and for your own ultimate good, young man.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I lose all the money I have put in to date.” - </p> - <p> - “Better a present loss than hopeless future entanglements. Your - personal obligations? As you have been using all available funds for - speculation, I presume you are not free from some debts.” - </p> - <p> - “Less than a thousand dollars all told.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you have, I believe, $285.75 standing to your personal credit - in this bank—the remnant of your patrimony.” - </p> - <p> - “I did not know I had so much,” remarked Roderick with a faint - smile. - </p> - <p> - “All the better, perhaps,” replied the banker, also smiling - grimly. “The amount would have doubtless been swallowed up with the - rest of your money. As matters stand, some payment can be made to account - of your obligations and arrangements entered into for the gradual - liquidation of the outstanding balance.” Young Warfield winced. The - banker continued: “This may involve some personal humiliation for - you. But again it is against my principles to pay any man’s debts. - Anyone who deliberately incurs a liability should have the highly - beneficial experience of earning the money to liquidate it I propose to - give you the chance to do so.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick raised his eyebrows in some surprise. “In New York?” - he enquired. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir,” replied Allen Miller rather brusquely and evidently - nettled at the very audacity of the question. “Not in New York, but - right here—in Keokuk. Calm your impatience, please. Just listen to - the proposals I have to make—they have been carefully thought out by - me and by your Aunt Lois as well. In the first place, despite your rather - reckless and improvident start in life, I am prepared to make you - assistant cashier of this bank at a good salary.” Again Roderick - evinced amazement. He was quite nonplussed at his uncle’s changed - demeanor. The conciliatory manner and kindly tone disarmed him. But could - he ever come to renounce his New York ambitions for humdrum existence in - the old river town of Keokuk? He knew the answer in his heart. The thing - was impossible. - </p> - <p> - “And if you are diligent,” continued the banker, “prove - capable and make good, you may expect in time to be rewarded with a - liberal block of stock in the bank. Come now, what do you say to this part - of my programme?” urged the speaker as Roderick hesitated. - </p> - <p> - The young man’s mind was already made up. The offer was not even - worth considering. And yet, he must not offend his guardian. It was true, - Allen Miller’s guardianship days were past, but still in his rapid - mental calculations Roderick thought of his stanch old stand-by, Uncle - Allen Miller, as “Guardian.” He lighted a cigar to gain time - for the framing of a diplomatic answer. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said the banker, with a rising inflection, “does - it require any time to consider the generous offer I make?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick pulled a long breath at his cigar and blew rings of smoke toward - the ceiling, and said: “Your offer, Uncle, is princely, but I hardly - feel that I should accept until I have thought it all over from different - points of view and have the whole question of my future plans fully - considered. What are the other items on your programme?” - </p> - <p> - “They should be rather counted as conditions,” replied the - banker drily. “The conditions on which the offer I have just made - are based.” - </p> - <p> - “And they are what?” - </p> - <p> - “You must quit speculation, give up all expensive habits, marry and - settle down.” The words were spoken with all the definiteness of an - ultimatum. - </p> - <p> - Again Roderick winced. He might have been led to all or at least some of - these things. But to be driven, and by such rough horse-breaking methods—. - never! no, never. He managed to restrain himself, however, and replied - quietly: “My dear uncle, the idea of marrying for some years yet, to - tell you the truth, has never entered my head. Of course,” he went - on lightly, “there is a young lady over at Galesburg, Stella Rain, - where my Knox college days were spent, the ‘college widow,’ in - a way a very lovely sort and in whom I have been rather interested for - some two years, but—” - </p> - <p> - “That will do, young man,” interrupted Allen Miller, sharply - and severely. “Never mind your society flyers—these lady - friends of yours in Galesburg. Your Aunt Lois and myself have already - selected your future wife.” - </p> - <p> - He laughed hoarsely, and the laugh sounded brutal even to his own ears. - Allen Miller realized uncomfortably that he had been premature and scored - against himself. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, is that so?” ejaculated Roderick in delicate irony. A - pink flush had stolen into his cheeks. - </p> - <p> - The old banker hesitated in making reply. He grew hot and red and wondered - if he had begun his match-making too abruptly—the very thing about - which his good wife Lois had cautioned him. In truth, despite the harsh - methods often imposed on him by his profession as a banker, a kinder heart - than Allen Miller’s never beat. But in this new rôle he was out of - his element and readily confused. Finally after clearing his throat - several times, he replied: “Yes, Roderick, in a way, your Aunt Lois - and I have picked out the girl we want you to marry. Her father’s - wealth is equal to mine and some day perhaps—well, you can’t - tell—I’ll not live always and, provided you don’t - disobey me, you may inherit under my will a control of the stock of this - banking house, and so be at the head of an important and growing financial - institution.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick instead of being fifty-four and calculating, was only twenty-four - and indifferent to wealth, and the red blood of his generous youth - revolted at the mercenary methods suggested by his uncle regarding this - unknown girl’s financial prospects. And then, too, the inducement - thrown out that under conditions of obedience he might inherit the fortune - of his uncle, was, he interpreted, nothing short of an attempt to bribe - and deprive him of his liberty. He flushed with indignation and anger. Yet - with a strong effort he still controlled his feelings, and presently - asked: “Who is the fair lady?” - </p> - <p> - “The daughter of an old friend of mine. They live only a short - distance down the river. Their home is at Quincy, Illinois. Mighty fine - old family, I can tell you. Am sure you’ll like her immensely.” - </p> - <p> - “Am I to understand,” asked Roderick rather caustically, - “that the young lady acquiesces and enters graciously into your - plans?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I can’t say that!” replied Allen Miller, rubbing - his chin. “But your Aunt Lois and I have talked over the possible - alliance in all its lights.” - </p> - <p> - “With the young lady’s family, I presume?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not even that. But we are perfectly certain that we have only - to speak the word to put the business through all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Business!”—Roderick repeated the word with bitter - emphasis. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir, business,” retorted Allen Miller, with some warmth. - “To my mind matrimony is one of the most important deals in life—perhaps - <i>the</i> most important.” - </p> - <p> - “If the money is right,” laughed the young man contemptuously. - “But don’t you think that before another word is said about - such a matter I should have the chance of seeing the young lady and the - young lady a chance of seeing me?” - </p> - <p> - The humor of the situation had brought a pleasant smile to his face. The - banker looked relieved. - </p> - <p> - “Wait now, my boy,” he replied musingly. “Do you - remember when you were a little chap, perhaps twelve or thirteen years - old, going with your Aunt Lois and myself to St. Louis on the Diamond Joe - boat line?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I remember it perfectly.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, then,” continued Allen Miller, “you perhaps haven’t - forgotten a lady and gentleman with a little tot of a girl only five or - six years old, who joined us at Quincy. You engaged in a regular boyish - love affair at first sight with that little girl. Well, she is the one—a - mighty fine young lady now—just passed eighteen and her father is - rated away up in the financial world.” - </p> - <p> - For the moment Roderick’s indignation over the cold-blooded, - cut-and-dried, matrimonial proposition was arrested, and he did not even - notice the renewed reference to finance. He had become pensive and - retrospective. - </p> - <p> - “How very long ago,” he mused more to himself than to his - Uncle Allen—“How very long ago since that trip down the river. - Yes, I remember well the little blue-eyed, black-curly-headed chick of a - girl. It was my first steamboat ride and of course it was a holiday and a - fairyland affair to my boyish fancy.” - </p> - <p> - He drew in a long breath and looked out through the window at the snow - which was now falling, as if many chapters of the world’s history - had been written in his own life since that far away yet well remembered - trip. He fell silent for a spell. - </p> - <p> - Allen Miller chuckled to himself. At last his scheme was working. All his - life he had been a success with men and affairs, and his self-confidence - was great. He rubbed his hands together and smiled, while he humored - Roderick’s silence. He would tell his wife Lois of his progress. - Presently he said: “She is an only child, Roderick, and I think her - father could qualify for better than a quarter of a million.” - </p> - <p> - This time the reiterated money recommendation jarred unpleasantly on - Roderick’s nerves and revived his antagonism. He hastily arose from - his chair and walked back and forth across the room. Presently he halted - before his uncle and with forced deliberation—for his anger was - keyed to a high tension—said: “I am pleased, Uncle, to know - the young lady is not a party to this shameful piece of attempted barter - and sale business. When I marry, if ever, it shall be someone as regards - whom wealth will count as of least importance. True love loathes avarice - and greed. I require no further time to consider your proposals. I flatly - reject your offer of a position in the bank, and shall leave Keokuk - tomorrow. I prefer hewing out my own destiny and while doing so retaining - my freedom and my self-respect. This is my decision, and it is an - irrevocable one.” - </p> - <p> - The ebullition of pent-up feelings had come so suddenly and unexpectedly - that Allen Miller was momentarily overwhelmed. He had arisen and was - noticeably agitated. His face was very white, and there was a look in his - eyes that Roderick Warfield had never seen before. - </p> - <p> - “Young man,” he said, and his voice was husky and trembling - with suppressed rage—“you shall never have a dollar of my - fortune unless you marry as I direct I will give you until tomorrow to - agree to my plans. If you do not desire to accept my offer without change - or modification in any shape, then take the balance of your money in the - bank and go your way. I wash my hands of you and your affairs. Go and play - football with the world or let the world play football with you, and see - how it feels to be the ‘pigskin’ in life’s game.” - </p> - <p> - With these words the old man swung a chair round to the fireplace, dropped - into it, and began vigorously and viciously pounding at a lump of coal. - There was an interval of silence. At last Roderick spoke; his voice was - firm and low. - </p> - <p> - “There will not be the slightest use, Uncle, in reopening this - question tomorrow. My mind, as I have said, is already made up—unalterably.” - The last word was uttered with an emphasis that rang finality. - </p> - <p> - The banker flung down the poker, and rose to his feet. His look was - equally determined, equally final, equally unalterable. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he snapped. “Then we’ll get through - the banking business now.” - </p> - <p> - He touched a push-button by the side of the mantel. During the brief - interval before a clerk responded to the summons, not another word was - spoken. - </p> - <p> - “Bring me the exact figure of Mr. Warfield’s credit balance,” - he said to his subordinate, “and cash for the amount. He will sign a - check to close the account.” - </p> - <p> - Five minutes later Roderick had the little wad of bills in his pocket, and - was ready to depart Uncle and nephew were again alone. - </p> - <p> - “There is one other matter,” said the banker with cold - formality. “There is a paper in my possession which was entrusted to - my keeping by your father just before he died. I was to deliver it to you - at my discretion after you had attained your majority, but in any case on - your reaching the age of twenty-five. I will exercise my discretion, and - hand over the paper to you now.” - </p> - <p> - He advanced to a safe that stood open at one side of the room, unlocked a - little drawer, and returned to the fireplace with a long linen envelope in - his hand. A big red splash of wax showed that it had been carefully - sealed. - </p> - <p> - “This is yours,” said the banker shortly, handing it over to - the young man. - </p> - <p> - The latter was greatly agitated. A message from his dead father! What - could it mean? But he mastered his emotions and quietly bestowed the - packet in his breast pocket—beside the papers connected with the - mining deal. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll read this later,” he said. And then he extended - his hand. There was yearning affection in his eyes, in the tremor of his - voice: “Uncle, we surely will part as friends.” - </p> - <p> - “You can regain my friendship only by doing my will. I have nothing - more to say. Good-by.” - </p> - <p> - And without taking the proffered hand, Allen Miller turned away, leaning - an elbow on the mantelshelf. His attitude showed that the interview was at - an end. - </p> - <p> - Without another word Roderick Warfield left the room. Outside the soft - snow was falling in feathery silence. At a street corner the young man - hesitated. He glanced up the road that led to his old home—Allen - Miller’s stately mansion on the hill. Then he took the other - turning. - </p> - <p> - “I guess I’ll sleep at the Club to-night,” he murmured - to himself. “I can bid Aunt Lois good-by in the morning.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>LLEN MILLER, the - rich banker, was alone—alone in the president’s room at his - bank, and feeling alone in the fullest sense of the word now that Roderick - Warfield had gone, the youth he had reared and loved and cherished as his - own child, now turned out of doors by the old man’s deliberate act. - </p> - <p> - For full an hour he walked slowly back and forth the whole length of the - apartment But at last he halted once again before the open grate where - some slumbering chunks of coal were burning indifferently. He pushed them - together with the iron poker, and a bright blaze sprung up. - </p> - <p> - Looking deep into the fire his thoughts went back to his boyhood days and - he saw John Warfield, his chum of many years. He thought of their - experience in the terrible massacre in the Sierra Madre Mountains in the - region of Bridger Peak, of a lost trail, of hunger and thirst and weary - tramps over mountain and down precipitous canyons, of abrupt gashes that - cut the rocky gorges, of great bubbling springs and torrents of mountain - streams, of a narrow valley between high mountains—a valley without - a discoverable outlet—of a beautiful waterway that traversed this - valley and lost itself in the sides of an abrupt mountain, and of the - exhausting hardships in getting back to civilization. - </p> - <p> - Then Allen Miller, the flint-hearted financier, the stoic, the man of - taciturn habits, did a strange thing. Standing there before the blazing - fire, leaning against the mantel, he put his handkerchief to his eyes and - his frame was convulsed with a sob. Presently he turned away from the open - grate and muttered aloud: “Yes, John Warfield, I loved you and I - love your boy, Roderick. Some day he shall have all I’ve got. But he - is self-willed—a regular outlaw—and I must wake him up to the - demands of a bread-winner, put the bits into his mouth and make him - bridle-wise. Gad! He’s a dynamo, but I love him;” and he half - smiled, while his eyes were yet red and his voice husky. - </p> - <p> - “Ah, John,” he mused as he looked again into the fire, “you - might have been alive today to help me break this young colt to the - plough, if you had only taken my advice and given up the search for that - gold mine in the mountains. Thank God for the compact of secrecy between - us—the secret shall die with me. The years, John, you spent in - trying to re-dis-cover the vault of wealth—and what a will-o’-the-wisp - it proved to be—and then the accident. But now I shall be firm—firm - as a rock—and Roderick, the reckless would-be plunger, shall at last - feel the iron hand of his old guardian beneath the silken glove of my - foolish kindness. He’s got to be subdued and broken, even if I have - to let him live on husks for a while. Firm, firm—that’s the - only thing to be.” - </p> - <p> - As he muttered the last words, Allen Miller shut his square jaws together - with an ugly snap that plainly told the stern policy he had resolved on - and would henceforth determinedly pursue. He put on his great fur-lined - cloak, and silently went out into the evening shadows and thick maze of - descending snow-flakes. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Roderick Warfield had reached his club, engaged a bedroom, and - got a cheerful fire alight for companionship as well as comfort. He had - telephoned to Whitley Adams to dine with him, but for two hours he would - be by himself and undisturbed. He wanted a little time to think. And then - there was the letter from his father. He had settled himself in an easy - chair before the fire, the sealed envelope was in his hand, and the - strange solemn feeling had descended upon him that he was going to hear - his dead father speak to him again. - </p> - <p> - There was in the silence that enveloped him the pulsing sensation of a - mysterious presence. The ordeal now to be faced came as a climax to the - stormy interview he had just passed through. He had reached a parting of - the ways, and dimly realized that something was going to happen that would - guide him as to the path he should follow. The letter seemed a message - from another world. Unknown to himself the supreme moment that had now - arrived was a moment of transfiguration—the youth became a man—old - things passed away. - </p> - <p> - With grave deliberation he broke the seal. Inside the folds of a long and - closely written letter was a second cover with somewhat bulky contents. - This he laid for the meantime on a little table by his side. Then he set - himself to a perusal of the letter. It ran as follows: - </p> - <blockquote> - <p> - “My dear Son:— - </p> - <p> - “This is for you to read when you have come to man’s estate—when - you are no longer a thoughtless boy, but a thoughtful man. With this - letter you will find your mother’s picture and a ring of pure gold - which I placed upon her finger the day I married her—gold with a - special sentiment attached to it, for I took it from the earth myself—also - a few letters—love letters written by her to me and a tress of her - hair. I am sure you will honor her memory by noble deeds. I loved her - dearly. - </p> - <p> - “I was younger at the time than you are now, Roderick, my son. - Your Uncle Allen Miller—about my own age—and myself planned - a trip to California. It was at the time of the great gold excitement in - that far off land. - </p> - <p> - “The Overland Train of some two score of ox teams that we were - with traveled but slowly; frequently not more than eight or ten miles a - day. I remembered we had crossed the south fork of the Platte River and - had traveled some two days on westward into the mountains and were near - a place called Bridger Peak. It must have been about midnight when our - camp was startled with the most terrific and unearthly yells ever heard - by mortals. It was a band of murderous Indians, and in less time than it - takes to describe the scene of devastation, all of our stock was - stampeded; our wagons looted and then set on fire. Following this a - general massacre began. Your Uncle Allen and myself, both of us mere - boys in our ‘teens, alert and active, managed to make our escape - in the darkness. Being fleet of foot we ran along the mountain side, - following an opening but keeping close to a dense forest of pine trees. - In this way we saved our lives. I afterwards learned that every other - member of the party was killed. - </p> - <p> - “We were each equipped with two revolvers and a bowie knife and - perhaps jointly had one hundred rounds of cartridges. A couple of pounds - of jerked beef and a half a loaf of bread constituted our provisions. - Fortunately, Allen Miller carried with him a flint and steel, so that we - were enabled to sustain ourselves with cooked food of game we killed - during the weary days that followed. - </p> - <p> - “With this letter I enclose a map, roughly drawn, but I am sure it - will help you find the lost canyon where flows a beautiful stream of - water, and where your Uncle Allen and myself discovered an amazing - quantity of gold—placer gold. It is in a valley, and the sandbar - of gold is about a mile up stream from where the torrent of rapid water - loses itself at the lower end of the valley—seemingly flowing into - the abrupt side of a mountain. At the place where we found the gold, I - remember, there was a sandbar next to the mountain brook, then a gorge - or pocket like an old channel of a creek bed, and it was here in this - old sandbar of a channel that the nuggets of gold were found—so - plentiful indeed, that notwithstanding we loaded ourselves with them to - the limit of our strength, yet our ‘takings’ could scarcely - be missed from this phenomenal sandbar of riches. We brought all we - could possibly carry away with us in two bags which we made from extra - clothing. Unfortunately we lost our way and could not find an opening - from the valley, because the waters of the stream disappeared, as I have - described, and we were compelled, after many unsuccessful attempts to - find a water grade opening, to retrace our steps and climb out by the - same precipitous trail that we had followed in going down into this - strange valley. - </p> - <p> - “We wandered in the mountains as far south as a place now known as - Hahn’s Peak, and then eastward, circling in every direction for - many miles in extent. After tramping in an unknown wilderness for - forty-seven days we finally came to the hut of a mountaineer, and were - overjoyed to learn it was on a branch of the Overland trail Not long - after this we fell in with a returning caravan of ox team freighters and - after many weeks of tedious travel arrived at St. Joseph, Mo., footsore - and weary, but still in possession of our gold. A little later we - reached our home near Keokuk, Iowa, and to our great joy learned that - our treasure was worth many thousands of dollars. Your Uncle Allen - Miller’s half was the beginning of his fortune. An oath of secrecy - exists between your Uncle Allen Miller and myself that neither shall - divulge during our lifetime that which I am now writing to you, but in - thus communicating my story to you, my own flesh and blood, I do not - feel that I am violating my promise, because the information will not - come to you until years after my death. - </p> - <p> - “Since your mother’s death, I have made seven trips into the - Rocky Mountain region hunting most diligently for an odd-shaped valley - where abrupt mountains wall it in, seemingly on every side, and where we - found the fabulously rich sandbar of gold. - </p> - <p> - “But I have not succeeded in locating the exact place, not even - finding the lost stream—or rather the spot where the waters - disappeared out of sight at the base of a high mountain range. On my - last trip, made less than one year ago, I met with a most serious - accident that has permanently crippled me and will probably hasten my - taking off. On the map I have made many notes while lying here ill and - confined to my room, and they will give you my ideas of the location - where the treasure may be found. To you, my beloved son, Roderick, I - entrust this map. Study it well and if, as I believe, you have inherited - my adventurous spirit, you will never rest until you find this lost - valley and its treasure box of phenomenal wealth. In Rawlins, Wyoming, - you will find an old frontiersman by the name of Jim Rankin. He has two - cronies, or partners, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest. These three men - rendered me great assistance. If you find the lost mine, reward them - liberally. - </p> - <p> - “I have communicated to no one, not even your good Uncle Allen - Miller, that I have decided on leaving this letter, and the information - which it contains is for your eyes alone to peruse long after my mortal - body has crumbled to dust In imparting this information I do so feeling - sure that your Uncle Allen will never make any effort to relocate the - treasure, so that it is quite right and proper the secret should descend - to you. - </p> - <p> - “My pen drags a little—I am weary and quite exhausted with - the effort of writing. I now find myself wondering whether this legacy—a - legacy telling you of a lost gold mine that may be found somewhere in - the fastnesses of the mountains of Wyoming—will prove a blessing - to you or a disquieting evil. I shall die hoping that it will prove to - your good and that your efforts in seeking this lost mine will be - rewarded. - </p> - <p> - “With tenderest love and affection, - </p> - <p> - “Your father, - </p> - <p> - “John Warfield.” - </p> - </blockquote> - <p> - When Roderick reached the end of the letter, he remained for a long time - still holding it in his hands and gazing fixedly into the glowing embers. - He was seeing visions—visions of a Wyoming gold mine that would - bring him unbounded wealth. At last he broke from his reveries, and - examined the other package. It was unsealed. The first paper to come forth - proved to be the map to which his father had referred—it was a - pencil drawing with numerous marginal notes that would require close - examination. For the present he laid the document on the table. Then - reverently and tenderly he examined the little bunch of love letters tied - together by a ribbon, the tress of hair placed between two protecting - pieces of cardboard, and the plain hoop of gold wrapped carefully in - several folds of tissue paper. Lastly he gazed upon the photograph of his - mother—the mother he had never seen, the mother who had given her - life so that he might live. There were tears in his eyes as he gently - kissed the sweet girlish countenance. - </p> - <p> - With thought of her and memories of the old boyhood days again he fell - into a musing mood. Time sped unnoticed, and it was only the chiming of a - church clock outside that aroused him to the fact that the dinner hour had - arrived and that Whitley Adams would be waiting for him downstairs. He - carefully placed all the papers in a writing desk that stood in a corner - of the room, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Then he descended - to meet his friend. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing doing, I can see,” exclaimed Whitley the moment he - saw Roderick’s grave face. - </p> - <p> - “You’ve got it right,” he answered quietly. “The - big ‘if’ you feared this morning turned out to be an - uncompromising ‘no.’ Uncle Allen and I have said good-by.” - </p> - <p> - “No wonder you are looking so glum.” - </p> - <p> - “Not glum, old fellow. I never felt more tranquilly happy in my - life. But naturally I may seem a bit serious. I have to cut out old things - in my life, take up new lines.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose it’s back to New York for you.” - </p> - <p> - “No. Everything goes by the board there. I have to cut my losses and - quit.” - </p> - <p> - “What a cruel sacrifice!” - </p> - <p> - “Or what a happy release,” smiled Roderick. “There is - something calling me elsewhere—a call I cannot resist—a call I - believe that beckons me to success.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we won’t say anything about that at present I’ll - write you later on when the outlook becomes clearer. Meanwhile we’ll - dine, and I’m going to put up a little business proposition to you. - I want you to buy my half share in the <i>Black Swan.</i>” - </p> - <p> - “Guess that can be fixed up all right,” replied Whitley, as - they moved toward the dining room. And, dull care laid aside, the two old - college chums gave themselves up to a pleasant evening—the last they - would spend together for many a long day, as both realized. - </p> - <p> - By eleven o’clock next morning Roderick Warfield had adjusted his - financial affairs. He had received cash for his half interest in the <i>Black - Swan,</i> a river pleasure launch which he and Whitley Adams had owned in - common for several years. He had written one letter, to New York - surrendering his holding in the mining syndicate, and other letters to his - three or four creditors enclosing bank drafts for one-half of his - indebtedness and requesting six months’ time for the payment of the - balance. With less than a hundred dollars left he was cheerfully prepared - to face the world. - </p> - <p> - Then had come the most painful episode of the whole visit—the - parting from Aunt Lois, the woman of gentle ways and kindly heart who had - always loved him like a mother, who loved him still, and who tearfully - pleaded with him to submit even at this eleventh hour to his uncle’s - will and come back to his room in the old home. But the adieus had been - spoken, resolutely though tenderly, and now Whitley Adams in his big motor - car had whisked Roderick and his belongings back to the railway depot. - </p> - <p> - He had barely time to check his trunk to Burlington and swing onto the - moving train. “So long,” he shouted to his friend. “Good - luck,” responded Whitley as he waved farewell. And Roderick Warfield - was being borne out into the big new world of venture and endeavor. - </p> - <p> - Would he succeed in cuffing the ears of chance and conquer, or would - heartless fate play football with him and make him indeed the “pig-skin” - as his uncle had prophesied in the coming events of his destiny—a - destiny that was carrying him away among strangers and to unfamiliar - scenes? As the train rushed along his mind was full of his father’s - letter and his blood tingled with excitement over the secret that had come - to him from the darkness of the very grave. The primal man within him was - crying out with mad impatience to be in the thick of the fierce struggle - for the golden spoil. - </p> - <p> - A witchery was thrumming in his heart—the witchery of the West; and - instead of struggling against the impulse, he was actually encouraging it - to lead him blindly on toward an unsolved mystery of the hills. He was - lifted up into the heights, his soul filled with exalted thoughts and - hopes. - </p> - <p> - Then came whisperings in a softer strain—gentle whisperings that - brought with them memories of happy college days and the name of Stella - Rain. It was perhaps nothing more nor less than the crude brutality with - which his uncle had pressed his meretricious matrimonial scheme that - caused Roderick now to think so longingly and so fondly of the charming - little “college widow” who had been the object of his youthful - aspirations. - </p> - <p> - All at once he came to a resolution. Yes; he would spend at least one day - on the old campus grounds at Knox College. The call of the hills was - singing in his heart, the luring irresistible call. But before responding - to it he would once again press the hand and peep into the eyes of Stella - Rain. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>N the very day - following Roderick Warfield’s departure from Keokuk there appeared - in one of the morning newspapers an item of intelligence that greatly - surprised and shocked the banker, Allen Miller. It announced the death of - the wife of his old friend General John Holden, of Quincy, Illinois, and - with the ghoulish instincts of latter-day journalism laid bare a story of - financial disaster that had, at least indirectly, led to the lady’s - lamented demise. It set forth how some years before the General had - invested practically the whole of his fortune in a western smelter - company, how the minority stockholders had been frozen out by a gang of - financial sharps in Pennsylvania, and how Mrs. Holden’s already - enfeebled health had been unable to withstand the blow of swift and sudden - family ruin. The General, however, was bearing his sad bereavement and his - monetary losses with the courage and fortitude that had characterized his - military career, and had announced his intention of retiring to a lonely - spot among the mountains of Wyoming where his daughter, the beautiful and - accomplished Gail Holden, owned a half section of land which had been - gifted to her in early infancy by an unde, a prominent business man in San - Francisco. Allen Miller was sincerely grieved over the misfortunes that - had so cruelly smitten a life-long friend. But what momentarily stunned - him was the thought that Gail Holden was the very girl designated, in mind - at least, by himself and his wife as a desirable match for Roderick. And - because the latter had not at once fallen in with these matrimonial plans, - there had been the bitter quarrel, the stinging words of rebuke that could - never be recalled, and the departure of the young man, as he had told his - aunt, to places where they would never hear of him unless and until he had - made his own fortune in the world. - </p> - <p> - As the newspaper dropped from his hands, the old banker uttered a great - groan—he had sacrificed the boy, whom in his heart he had cherished, - and still cherished, as a son, for a visionary scheme that had already - vanished into nothingness like a fragile iridescent soap-bubble. For - obviously Gail Holden, her only possessions an impoverished father and a - few acres of rocky soil, was no longer eligible as the bride of a future - bank president and leader in the financial world. The one crumb of - consolation for Allen Miller was that he had never mentioned her name to - Roderick—that when the sponge of time came to efface the quarrel the - whole incident could be consigned to oblivion without any humiliating - admission on his side. For financial foresight was the very essence of his - faith in himself, his hold over Roderick, and his reputation in the - business world. - </p> - <p> - The afternoon mail brought detailed news of General Holden’s - speculative venture and downfall. Allen Miller’s correspondent was a - lawyer friend in Quincy, who wrote in strict confidence but with a free - and sharply pointed pen. It appeared that Holden’s initial - investment had been on a sound basis. He had held bonds that were - underlying securities on a big smelting plant in Wyoming, in the very - district where his daughter’s patch of range lands was situated. It - was during a visit to the little ranch that the general’s attention - had been drawn to the great possibilities of a local smelter, and he had - been the main one to finance the proposition and render the erection of - the plant possible. At this stage a group of eastern capitalists had been - attracted to the region, and there had come to be mooted a big - consolidation of several companies, an electric lighting plant, an aerial - tramway, a valuable producing copper mine and several other different - concerns that were closely associated with the smelting enterprise. - </p> - <p> - In the days that followed a Pennsylvanian financier with a lightning rod - education, by the name of W. B. Grady had visited Holden at his Quincy - home, partaken of his hospitality, and persuaded him to exchange his - underlying bonds for stock in a re-organized and consolidated company. - </p> - <p> - By reputation this man Grady was already well known to Allen Miller as one - belonging to the new school of unscrupulous stock manipulators that has - grown up, developed, flourished and waxed fat under the blighting - influence and domination of the Well Known Oil crowd. This new school of - financiers is composed of financial degenerates, where the words “honor,” - “fair dealing” or the “square deal” have all been - effectually expunged—marked off from their business vocabulary and - by them regarded as obsolete terms. Grady was still a comparatively young - man, of attractive manners and commanding presence, with the rapacity, - however, of a wolf and the cunning of a fox. He stood fully six feet, and - his hair, once black as a raven’s, was now streaked with premature - gray which was in no way traceable to early piety. But to have mentioned - his name even in a remote comparison to such a respectable bird as the - raven rendered an apology due to the raven. It was more consistent with - the eternal truth and fitness of things to substitute the term “vulture”—to - designate him “a financial vulture,” that detestable bird of - prey whose chief occupation is feasting on carrion and all things where - the life has been squeezed out by the financial octopus, known as “the - system.” - </p> - <p> - It developed, according to Banker Miller’s correspondent, that no - sooner had General Holden given up his underlying bonds of the smelter - company and accepted stock, than foreclosure proceedings were instituted - in the U. S. District Court, and the whole business closed out and sold - and grabbed by Grady and a small coterie of financial pirates no better - than himself. And all this was done many hundreds of miles away from the - home of the unsuspecting old general, who until it was too late remained - wholly ignorant and unadvised of the true character of the suave and - pleasant appearing Mr. Grady whose promises were innumerable, yet whose - every promise was based upon a despicable prevarication. - </p> - <p> - And thus it was when the affairs of General Holden were fairly threshed - out, that Allen Miller discovered his old friend had been the prey of a - financial vampire, one skilled in sharp practice and whose artful cunning - technically protected him from being arrested and convicted of looting the - victim of his fortune. Holden had fallen into the hands of a highwayman as - vicious as any stage robber that ever infested the highways of the - frontier. The evidence of the fellow’s rascality was most apparent; - indeed, he was in a way caught redhanded with the goods as surely as ever - a sheep-killing dog was found with wool on its teeth. - </p> - <p> - To the credit of Allen Miller, he never hesitated or wavered in his - generosity to anyone he counted as a true and worthy friend. That very - evening Mrs. Miller departed for Quincy, to offer in person more - discreetly than a letter could offer any financial assistance that might - be required to meet present emergencies, and at the same time convey - sympathy to the husband and daughter in their sad bereavement. - </p> - <p> - “Lois, my dear,” the banker had said to his wife, “remain - a few days with them if necessary. Make them comfortable, no matter what - the expense. If they had means they wouldn’t need us, but now—well, - no difference about the why and wherefore—you just go and comfort - and help them materially and substantially.” - </p> - <p> - It was in such a deed as this that the true nobility of Allen Miller’s - character shone forth like a star of the brightest magnitude—a star - guaranteeing forgiveness of all his blunders and stupid attempts to curb - the impulsive and proud spirit of Roderick War-field Yet sympathy for Gail - and her father in no way condoned their poverty to his judgment as a man - of finance or reinstated the girl as an eligible match for the young man. - He would have been glad of tidings of Roderick—to have him home - again and the offensive matrimonial condition he had attached to his offer - of an appointment in the bank finally eliminated. - </p> - <p> - But there was no news, and meanwhile his wife had returned from her - mission, to report that the Holdens, while sincerely grateful, had - declined all offers of assistance. As Mrs. Miller described, it was the - girl herself who had declared, with the light of quiet self-reliance in - her eyes, that by working the ranch in Wyoming as she proposed to work it - there would be ample provision for her father’s little luxuries and - her own simple needs. - </p> - <p> - So Allen Miller put Gail Holden out of mind. But he had many secret - heartaches over his rupture with Roderick, and every little stack of mail - matter laid upon his desk was eagerly turned over in the hope that at last - the wanderer’s whereabouts would be disclosed. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>TELLA RAIN - belonged to one of the first families of Galesburg. Their beautiful home, - an old style Southern mansion, painted white with green shutters, was just - across from the college campus ground. It was the usual fate of seniors - about to pass out of Knox College to be in love, avowedly or secretly, - with this fair “college widow.” She was petite of form and - face, and had a beautiful smile that radiated cheerfulness to the scores - of college boys. There was a merry-come-on twinkle in her eyes that set - the hearts of the young farmer lad students and the city chaps as well, in - tumultuous riot. Beneath it all she was kind of heart, and it was this - innate consideration for others that caused her to introduce all the new - boys and the old ones too, as they came to college year after year, to - Galesburg’s fairest girls. She was ready to fit in anywhere—a - true “college widow” in the broadest sense of the term. Her - parents were wealthy and she had no greater ambition than to be a queen - among the college boys. Those who knew her best said that she would live - and die a spinster because of her inability to select someone from among - the hundreds of her admirers. Others said she had had a serious affair of - the heart when quite young. But that was several years before Roderick - Warfield had come upon the scene and been in due course smitten by her - charms. How badly smitten he only now fully realized when, after nearly a - year of absence, he found himself once again tête-à-tête with her in the - old familiar drawing-room of her home. - </p> - <p> - There had been an hour of pleasant desultory conversation, the exchange of - reminiscences and of little sympathetic confidences, a subtly growing - tension in the situation which she had somewhat abruptly broken by going - to the piano and dashing off a brilliant Hungarian rhapsody. - </p> - <p> - “And so you are determined to go West?” she inquired as she - rose to select from the cabinet another sheet of music. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’m going far West. I am - going after a fortune.” - </p> - <p> - “How courageous you are,” she replied, glancing at him over - her shoulder with merry, twinkling eyes, as if she were proud of his - ambition. - </p> - <p> - “Stella,” said Roderick, as she returned to the piano, where - he was now standing. - </p> - <p> - “Yes?” said she, looking up encouragingly. - </p> - <p> - “Why; you see, Stella—you don’t mind me telling you—well, - Stella, if I find the lost gold mine—” - </p> - <p> - “If you find what?” she exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I mean,” said Roderick in confusion, “I mean if I - find a fortune. Don’t you know, if I get rich out in that western - country—” - </p> - <p> - “And I hope and believe you will,” broke in Stella, - vivaciously. - </p> - <p> - “Yes—I say, if I do succeed, may I come back for you—yes, - marry you, and will you go out there with me to live?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Roderick, are you jesting now? You are just one of these - mischievous college boys trying to touch the heart of the little college - widow.” She laughed gaily at him, as if full of disbelief. - </p> - <p> - “No,” protested Roderick, “I am sincere.” - </p> - <p> - Stella Rain looked at him a moment in admiration. He was tall and strong—a - veritable athlete. His face was oval and yet there was a square-jawed - effect in its moulding. His eyes were dark and luminous and frank, and - wore a look of matureness, of determined purpose, she had never seen there - before. Finally she asked: “Do you know, Roderick, how old I am?” - </p> - <p> - As Roderick looked at her he saw there was plaintive regret in her dark - sincere eyes. There was no merry-come-on in them now; at last she was - serious. - </p> - <p> - “Why, no,” said Roderick, “I don’t know how old - you are and I don’t care. I only know that you appeal to me more - than any other woman I have ever met, and all the boys like, you, and I - love you, and I want you for my wife.” - </p> - <p> - “Sit down here by my side,” said Stella. “Let me talk to - you in great frankness.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick seated himself by her side and reaching over took one of her - hands in his. He fondled it with appreciation—it was small, delicate - and tapering. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick,” she said, “my heart was given to a college - boy when I was only eighteen years old. He went away to his home in an - eastern state, and then he forgot me and married the girl he had gone to - school with as a little boy—during the red apple period of their - lives. It pleased his family better and perhaps it was better; and it will - not please your family, Roderick, if you marry me.” - </p> - <p> - “My family be hanged,” said Roderick with emphasis. “I - have just had a quarrel with my uncle, Allen Miller, and I am alone in the - world. I have no family. If you become my wife, why, we’ll—. - we’ll be a family to ourselves.” - </p> - <p> - Stella smiled sadly and said: “You enthusiastic boy. How old are - you, Roderick?” - </p> - <p> - “I am twenty-four and getting older every day.” They both - laughed and Stella sighed and said: “Oh, dear, how the years are - running against us—I mean running against me. No, no,” she - said, half to herself, “it never can be—it is impossible.” - </p> - <p> - “What,” said Roderick, rising to his feet, and at the same - moment she also stood before him—“What’s impossible? Is - it impossible for you to love me?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not that,” said Stella, and he noticed tears in her eyes. - “No, Roderick,” and she stood before him holding both his - hands in hers—“Listen,” she said, “listen!” - </p> - <p> - “I am all attention,” said Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you how it will all end—we will never marry.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I say we shall marry,” said Roderick. “If you - will have me—if you love me—for I love you better than all - else on earth.” He started to take her in his arms and she raised - her hand remonstratingly, and said: “Wait! Here is what I mean,” - and she looked up at him helplessly. “I mean,”—she was - speaking slowly—“I mean that you believe today, this hour, - this minute that you want me for your wife.” - </p> - <p> - “I certainly do,” insisted Roderick, emphatically. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but wait—wait until I finish. I will promise to be your - wife, Roderick—yes, I will promise—if you come for me I will - marry you. But, oh, Roderick,”—and there were tears this time - in her voice as well as in her eyes—“You will never come back—you - will meet others not so old as I am, for I am very, very old, and tonight - I feel that I would give worlds and worlds if they were mine to give, were - I young once again. Of course, in your youthful generosity you don’t - know what the disparagement of age means between husband and wife, when - the husband is younger. A man may be a score of years older than a woman - and all will be well—if they grow old together. It is God’s - way. But if a woman is eight or ten years older than her husband, it is - all different. No, Roderick, don’t take me in your arms, don’t - even kiss me until I bid you good-by when you start for that gold’ - mine of yours”—and as she said this she tried to laugh in her - old way. - </p> - <p> - “You seem to think,” said Roderick in a half-vexed, determined - tone, “that I don’t know my own mind—that I do not know - my own heart. Why, do you know, Stella, I have never loved any other girl - nor ever had even a love affair?” - </p> - <p> - She looked at him quickly and said: “Roderick, that’s just the - trouble—you do not know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you - won’t know until the other girl comes along. And then, then,” - she said wearily, “I shall be weighed in the balance and found - wanting, because—oh, Roderick, I am so old, and I am so sorry—” - and she turned away and hid her face in her hands. “I believe in you - and I could love you with all my strength and soul. I am willing—listen - Roderick,” she put up her hands protectingly, “don’t be - impatient—I am willing to believe that you will be constant—that - you will come back—I am willing to promise to be your wife.” - </p> - <p> - “You make me the happiest man in the world,” exclaimed - Roderick, crushing her to him with a sense of possession. - </p> - <p> - “But there is one promise I am going to ask you to make,” she - said. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes,” said he, “I will promise anything.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is this: If the other girl should come along, don’t - fail to follow the inclination of your heart, for I could not be your wife - and believe that the image of another woman was kept sacredly hidden away - in the deep recesses of your soul. Do you understand?” There was - something in her words—something in the way she spoke them—something - in the thought, that struck Roderick as love itself, and it pleased him, - because love is unselfish. Then he remembered that as yet he was penniless—it - stung him. However, the world was before him and he must carve out a - future and a fortune. It might take years, and in the meantime what of - Stella Rain, who was even now deploring her many years? She would be - getting older, and her chances, perhaps, for finding a home and settling - down with a husband would be less and less. - </p> - <p> - But he knew there was no such thought of selfishness on her part—her - very unselfishness appealed to him strongly and added a touch of chivalry - to his determination. - </p> - <p> - Stella Rain sank into a cushioned chair and rested her chin upon one hand - while, reaching to the piano keys with the other, she thrummed them - softly. Roderick walked back and forth slowly before her in deep - meditation. At last he paused and said: “I love you, I will prove I - am worthy. There is no time to lose. The hour grows late. I have but an - hour to reach my hotel, get my luggage and go to the depot I am going West - tonight I will come for you within one year, provided I make my fortune; - and I firmly believe in my destiny. If not—if I do not come—I - will release you from your betrothal, if it is your wish that I do so.” - </p> - <p> - Stella Rain laughed more naturally, and the old “come-on” - twinkling was in her eyes again as she said: “Roderick, I don’t - want to be released, because I love you very, very much. It is not that—it’s - because—well, no difference—if you come, Roderick,” and - she raised her hand to him from the piano—“if you come, and - still want me to be your wife, I will go with you and live in the - mountains or the remotest corner of the earth.” - </p> - <p> - He took her hand in both his own and kissed it tenderly. “Very well, - Stella,—you make it plain to me. But you shall see—you shall - see,” and he looked squarely into her beautiful eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, “we shall see, - Roderick, we shall see. And do you know,” the twinkling was now gone - from her eyes once more and she became serious again—“do you - know, Roderick, it is the dearest hope of my life that you will come? But - I shall love you just as much as I do now, Roderick, if for any cause—for - whatever reason—you do not come. Do you understand?” - </p> - <p> - “But,” interposed Roderick, “we are betrothed, are we - not?” - </p> - <p> - She looked at him and said, smiling half sadly: “Surely, Roderick, - we are betrothed.” - </p> - <p> - He put his big strong hands up to her cheeks, lifted her face to his and - kissed her reverently. Then with a hasty good-by he turned and was gone. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick hurried across the old campus he felt the elation of a - gladiator. Of course, he would win in life’s battle, and would - return for Stella Rain, the dearest girl in all the world. The stars were - twinkling bright, the moon in the heavens was in the last quarter—bright - moon and stars, fit companions for him in his all-conquering spirit of - optimism. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO! - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S the train - rumbled along carrying Roderick back to Burlington, he was lost in reverie - and exultation. He was making plans for a mighty future, into which now a - romance of love was interwoven as well as the romance of a mysterious gold - mine awaiting rediscovery in some hidden valley among rugged mountains. - Yes; he would lose no further time in starting out for Wyoming. The - winning of the one treasure meant the winning of the other—the - making of both his own. As he dreamed of wealth unbounded, there was - always singing in his heart the name of Stella Rain. - </p> - <p> - Next day he was aboard a westbound train, booked for Rawlins, Wyoming, - where, as his father’s letter had directed, he was likely to find - the old frontiersman, Jim Rankin; perhaps also the other “cronies” - referred to by name, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest At Omaha a young westerner - boarded the train, and took a seat in the Pullman car opposite to - Roderick. In easy western style the two fell into conversation, and - Roderick soon learned that the newcomer’s name was Grant Jones, that - he was a newspaper man by calling and resided in Dillon, Wyoming, right in - the midst of the rich copper mines. - </p> - <p> - “We are just over the mountain,” explained Jones, “from - the town of Encampment, where the big smelter is located.” - </p> - <p> - As the train sped along and they became better acquainted, Grant Jones - pointed out to Roderick a dignified gentleman with glasses and a gray - mustache occupying a seat well to the front of the car, and told him that - this particular individual was no other than the “Boss of Montana”—Senator - “Fence Everything” Greed. Jones laughed heartily at the name. - </p> - <p> - “Of course, he is the U. S. Senator from Montana,” continued - Jones, soberly, “and his name is F. E. Greed. His enemies out in - Montana will be highly pleased at the new name I have given him—’Fence - Everything,’ because he has fenced in over 150,000 acres of - Government land, it is claimed, and run the actual home-settlers out of - his fenced enclosures while his immense herds of cattle trampled under - foot and ate up the poor evicted people’s crops. Oh, he’s some - ‘boss,’ all right, all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Why,” exclaimed Roderick, “that’s lawlessness.” - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones turned and looked at Roderick and said: “The rich are - never lawless, especially United States Senators—not out in Montana. - Why, bless your heart, they say the superintendent of his ranch is on the - payroll down at Washington at $1800 a year. - </p> - <p> - “Likewise the superintendent of the electric lighting plant which - Senator Greed owns, as well as the superintendent of his big general - store, are said to be on the government payroll. - </p> - <p> - “It has also been charged that his son was on the public payroll - while at college. Oh, no, it is not lawless; it is just a dignified form - of graft. Of course,” Jones went on with arched eyebrows, “I - remember one case where a homesteader shot one of the Senator’s - fatted cattle—fine stock, blooded, you know. It was perhaps worth - $100. Of course the man was arrested, had a ‘fair trial’ and - is now doing time in the penitentiary. In the meantime, his wife and - little children have been sent back East to her people. You see,” - said Jones, smiling, “this small rancher, both poor in purse and - without influence, was foolish enough to lose his temper because five or - six hundred head of Senator Greed’s cattle were driven by his - cowboys over the rancher’s land and the cattle incidentally, as they - went along, ate up his crops. Little thing to get angry about, wasn’t - it?” and Jones laughed sarcastically. - </p> - <p> - “Well, don’t the state conventions pass resolutions denouncing - their U. S. Senator for such cold-blooded tyrannizing methods?” - </p> - <p> - “If the state of Montana,” replied Grant Jones, “should - ever hold a state convention of its representative people—the bone - and sinew of its sovereign citizens, why, they would not only retire - Senator Greed to private life, but they would consign him to the warmer - regions.” - </p> - <p> - “You surprise me,” replied Roderick. “I supposed that - every state held conventions—delegates you know, from each county.” - </p> - <p> - “They think they do,” said Jones, winking one eye, “but - they are only ratification meetings. The ‘Boss,’”he - continued, nodding his head towards Senator Greed, “has his faithful - lieutenants in each precinct of every county. His henchmen select the - alleged delegates and when they all get together in a so-called state - convention they are by pre-arrangement program men. The slate is fixed up - by the ‘Boss’ and is duly ratified without a hitch. Therefore - instead of being a convention representing the people it is a great big - farce—a ratification picnic where ‘plums’ are dealt out - and the ears of any who become fractious duly cuffed.” - </p> - <p> - At Grand Island in the afternoon, during a stop while engines were - changed, Roderick left the train and stretched his legs by walking up and - down the depot platform. Here he saw Grant Jones in a new rôle. - Notwithstanding Jones was in rough western garb—khaki Norfolk coat, - trousers to match, and leather leggings—yet he was the center of - attraction for a bevy of young ladies. Two of these in particular were - remarkable for their beauty; both had the same burnished golden hair and - large brown eyes; they were almost identical in height and figure, petite - and graceful, dressed alike, so that anyone at a first glance would have - recognized them to be not only sisters but doubtless twins. - </p> - <p> - When the train was about ready to start, these two girls bade adieu to - their numerous friends and permitted Grant Jones with all the gallantry of - a Beau Brummel to assist them onto the car. - </p> - <p> - Later Grant Jones took great pains to assure Roderick that it was a - pleasure to introduce him to the Misses Barbara and Dorothy Shields—“Two - of our’ mountain wild flowers,” Grant said, laughing - pleasantly, “who reside with their people way over south in the - Wyoming hills, not far from Encampment, on one of the biggest cattle - ranges in the state.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick, already captivated by the whole-souled, frank manner of Grant - Jones, now found himself much interested in the beautiful twin sisters as - well. Hour followed hour in bright and sprightly conversation, and soon - the tenderfoot who had been inclined to condole with himself as a lonely - stranger among strangers was feeling quite at home in the great western - world of hospitable welcome and good comradeship. - </p> - <p> - At an early hour next morning Grant Jones, the Shields girls and a dozen - other people left the train at the little town of Walcott. They extended - hearty invitations for Roderick to come over to southern Wyoming to see - the country, its great mines and the big smelter. “If you pay us a - visit,” said Grant Jones, laughing, “I’ll promise you a - fine big personal in the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>, of which mighty organ - of public opinion I have the honor to be editor.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick, with a bow of due reverence for his editorial majesty and a - bright smile for the sisters, promised that he likely would make the trip - before very long. Then he swung himself onto the already moving train and - continued his westward journey to Rawlins. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was seven o’clock - the same morning when Roderick left the train at Rawlins. - </p> - <p> - The raw, cold wind was blowing a terrific gale, the streets were deserted - save for a few half drunken stragglers who had been making a night of it, - going the rounds of saloons and gambling dens. - </p> - <p> - A bright-faced lad took charge of the mail bags, threw them into a push - cart and started rumbling away up the street. Warfield followed and coming - up with him inquired for a hotel. - </p> - <p> - “Right over there is the Ferris House,” said the young fellow, - nodding his head in the direction indicated. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick approached the hotel he met a grizzled keen-eyed frontiersman - who saluted him with a friendly “Hello, partner, you be a stranger - in these yere parts, I’m assoomin’.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I just arrived on this morning’s train.” - </p> - <p> - “Waal, my handle is Jim Rankin. Been prospectin’ the range - hereabouts nigh thirty years; uster be sheriff of this yere county when - people wuz hostile a plenty—have the best livery stable today in - Wyomin’, and always glad to see strangers loiterin’ ‘round - and help ‘em to git their bearin’s if I can be of service—you - bet I am.” - </p> - <p> - Thus early had Roderick encountered his father’s old friend. He was - delighted, but for the present kept his own counsel. A more fitting time - and place must be found to tell the reason of his coming. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” he contented himself with saying as he accepted - the frontiersman’s hand of welcome; “glad to meet you, Mr. - Rankin.” - </p> - <p> - “Here, boy,” shouted the latter to an attache of the hotel, - “take care of this yere baggage; it belongs to this yere gentleman, - a dangnation good friend uv mine. He’ll be back soon fur breakfast. - Come on, stranger, let’s go over to Wren’s. I’m as dry - as a fish.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick smiled and turning about, accompanied his new discovery down the - street to Wren’s. As they walked along Rankin said: “Here’s - my barn and here’s the alley. We’ll turn in here and get into - Wren’s by the back door. I never pester the front door. Lots uv - fellers git a heap careless with their artillery on front steps that are - docile ‘nuff inside.” As they passed through a back gate, Jim - Rankin, the typical old-time westerner, pushed his hat well back on his - head, fished out of his pocket a pouch of “fine cut” tobacco, - and stowing away a large wad in his mouth began masticating rapidly, like - an automobile on the low gear. Between vigorous “chaws” he - observed that the sun would be up in a “minute” and then the - wind would go down. “Strange but true as gospel,” he chuckled—perhaps - at his superior knowledge of the West—“when the sun comes up - the wind goes down.” - </p> - <p> - He expectorated a huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at an old ash barrel, - wiped his iron gray mustache with the back of his hand, pushed open the - back door of the saloon and invited Roderick to enter. - </p> - <p> - A fire was burning briskly in a round sheet iron stove, and a half dozen - wooden-backed chairs were distributed about a round-topped table covered - with a green cloth. - </p> - <p> - Rankin touched a press button, and when a white-aproned waiter responded - and stood with a silent look of inquiry on his face the frontiersman - cleared his throat and said: “A dry Martini fur me; what pizen do - you nominate, partner?” - </p> - <p> - “Same,” was Roderick’s rather abbreviated reply as he - took in the surroundings with a furtive glance. - </p> - <p> - As soon as the waiter retired to fill the orders, Roderick’s new - found friend pulled a coal scuttle close to his chair to serve as a - receptacle for his tobacco expectorations, and began: “You see, - speakin’ wide open like, I know all these yere fellers—know - ‘em like a book. Out at the bar in front is a lot uv booze-fightin’ - sheep herders makin’ things gay and genial, mixin’ up with a - lot uv discharged railroad men. Been makin’ some big shipments uv - sheep east, lately, and when they get tumultuous like with a whole night’s - jag of red liquor under their belt, they forgit about the true artickle uv - manhood and I cut ‘em out. Hope they’ll get away afore the - cattle men come in from over north, otherwise there’ll be plenty uv - ugly shootin’. Last year we made seven new graves back there,” - and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “seven graves as a result - uv a lot uv sheep herders and cow punchers tryin’ to do the perlite - thing here at Wren’s parlors the same night They got to shootin’ - in a onrestrained fashion and a heap careless. You bet if I wuz sheriff uv - this yere county agin I’d see to it that law and order had the long - end uv the stick—though I must allow they did git hostile and hang - Big Nose George when I wuz in office,” he added after a pause. Then - he chuckled quietly to himself, for the moment lost in retrospection. - </p> - <p> - Presently the waiter brought in the drinks and when he retired Rankin got - up very cautiously, tried the door to see if it was tightly shut. Coming - back to the table and seating himself he lifted his glass, but before - drinking said: “Say, pard, I don’t want to be too presumin’, - but what’s your handle?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick felt that the proper moment had arrived, and went straight to his - story. - </p> - <p> - “My name is Roderick Warfield. I am the son of John Warfield with - whom I believe you had some acquaintance a number of years ago. My father - is dead, as you doubtless may have heard—died some fourteen years - since. He left a letter for me which only recently came into my - possession, and in the letter he spoke of three men—Jim Rankin, Tom - Sun and Boney Earnest.” - </p> - <p> - As Roderick was speaking, the frontiersman reverently returned his - cocktail to the table. - </p> - <p> - “Geewhillikins!” he exclaimed, “you the son uv John - Warfield! Well, I’ll be jiggered. This just nachurly gits on my - wind. Shake, young man.” And Jim Rankin gave Roderick’s hand - the clinch of a vise; “I’m a mighty sight more than delighted - to see you, and you can count on my advice and help, every day in the week - and Sundays thrown in. As you’re a stranger in these parts, I’m - assoomin’ you’ll need it a plenty, you bet. Gee, but I’m - as glad to see you as I’d be to see a brother. Let’s drink to - the memory uv your good father.” - </p> - <p> - He again lifted his cocktail and Roderick joined him by picking up a side - glass of water. - </p> - <p> - “What?” asked Rankin, “not drinkin’ yer cocktail? - What’s squirmin’ in yer vitals?” - </p> - <p> - “I drink nothing stronger than water,” replied Roderick, - looking his father’s old friend squarely in the eyes. Thus early in - their association he was glad to settle this issue once and for all time. - </p> - <p> - “Shake again,” said Rankin, after tossing off his drink at a - single swallow and setting down his empty glass, “you sure ‘nuff - are the son uv John Warfield. Wuz with him off and on fur many a year and - he never drank spirits under no circumstances. You bet I wuz just nachurly - so dangnation flabbergasted at meetin’ yer I got plumb locoed and - sure did fergit. Boney and Tom and me often speak uv him to this day, and - they’ll be dangnation glad to see you.” - </p> - <p> - “So you’re all three still in the ring?” queried - Roderick with a smile. - </p> - <p> - “Bet yer life,” replied Rankin sturdily. “Why, Tom Sun - and Boney Earnest and me have been chums fur nigh on to thirty years. They’re - the best scouts that ever hunted in the hills. They’re the chaps who - put up my name at the convenshun, got me nominated and then elected me - sheriff of this yere county over twenty-five years ago. Gosh but I’m - certainly glad to see yer and that’s my attitood.” He smiled - broadly. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Warfield,” he continued, “what yer out here fur? - But first, hold on a minute afore yer prognosticate yer answer. Just shove - that ‘tother cocktail over this way—dangnation afeerd you’ll - spill it; no use letting it go to waste.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ve come,” replied Roderick, smiling and pushing the - cocktail across to Jim Rankin, “to grow up with the country. A young - fellow when he gets through college days has got to get out and do - something, and some way I’ve drifted out to Wyoming to try and make - a start. I have lots of good health, but precious little money.” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin drank the remaining cocktail, pulled his chair a little closer - to Roderick’s and spoke in a stage whisper: “You know, I’m - assoomin’, what yer father was huntin’ fur when he got hurt?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick flushed slightly and remained silent for a moment. Was it - possible that his father’s old friend, Jim Rankin, knew of the lost - mine? Finally he replied: “Well, yes, I know in a general way.” - </p> - <p> - “Don’t speak too dangnation loud,” enjoined Rankin. - “Come on and we’ll hike out uv this and go into one uv the - back stalls uv my livery stable. This’s no place to talk about sich - things—even walls have ears.” - </p> - <p> - As they went out again by the back door the morning sun was looking at - them from the rim of the eastern hills. Side by side and in silence they - walked along the alley to the street, then turned and went into a big - barn-like building bearing a sign-board inscribed: “Rankin’s - Livery, Feed and Sale Stable.” - </p> - <p> - Although there was not a soul in sight, Rankin led his new acquaintance - far back to the rear of the building. As they passed, a dozen or more - horses whinnied, impatient for their morning feed. - </p> - <p> - Cautiously and without a word being spoken they went into an empty stall - in a far corner, and there in a deep whisper, Rankin said: “I know - the hull shootin’ match about that ‘ere lost gold mine, but - Tom and Boney don’t—they’ve been peevish, good and - plenty, two or three different times thinkin’ I know’d suthin’ - they didn’t. Not a blamed thing does anybody know but me, you bet I - went with your father on three different trips, but we didn’t quite - locate the place. I believe it’s on Jack Creek or Cow Creek—maybe - furder over—don’t know which, somewhere this side or t’other - side of Encampment River. You kin bet big money I kin help a heap—a - mighty lot But say nothin’ to nobody—specially to these - soopercilious high-steppin’ chaps ‘round here—not a - dangnation word—keep it mum. This is a razzle-dazzle just ‘tween - you an’ me, young man.” - </p> - <p> - A silence followed, and the two stood there looking at each other. - Presently Roderick said: “I believe I’ll go over to the hotel - and get some breakfast; this western air gives one a ravenous appetite.” - </p> - <p> - Then they both laughed a little as if anxious to relieve an embarrassing - situation, and went out to the street together. Jim knew in his heart he - had been outclassed; he had shown his whole hand, the other not one single - card. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” Rankin finally said, as if an invitation had been - extended to him. “All right, I’ll jist loiter along with yer - over to’rd the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “At another time,” observed Roderick, “we will talk - further about my father’s errand into this western country.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s the dope that sure ‘nuff suits me, Mr. - War-field,” replied Rankin. “Whatever you say goes. Yer can - unbosom yerself to me any time to the limit. I’ve got a dozen good - mining deals to talk to you about; they’re dandies—a fortune - in every one uv ‘em—’a bird in every shell,’ I - might say,” and Rankin laughed heartily at his happy comparison. - “Remember one thing, Warfield,”—he stopped and took hold - of the lapel of Roderick’s coat, and again spoke in a whisper—“this - yere town is full uv ‘hot air’ merchants. Don’t have - nuthin’ to do with ‘em—stand pat with me and I’ll - see by the great horn spoon the worst you get will be the best uv - everythin’ we tackle. Well, so long until after breakfast; I’ll - see you later.” And with this Rankin turned and walked briskly back - to his stables, whistling a melody from the “Irish Washerwoman” - as he went along. - </p> - <p> - Arriving at his stables he lighted a fire in a drumshaped stove, threw his - cud of tobacco away and said: “Hell, I wish this young Warfield had - money. I’ve got a copper prospect within three mile uv this here - town that’ll knock the spots out uv the Ferris-Haggerty mine all - holler. Geewhillikins, it’ll jist nachur-ally make all the best - mines in Wyomin’ look like small-sized Shetland ponies at a Perch’ron - draft horse show. You bet that’s what I’ve got.” - </p> - <p> - After feeding his horses he came back to the livery barn office, now quite - warm and comfortable, pulled up an old broken backed chair, sat down and - lit his pipe. After a few puffs he muttered half aloud: “Expect I’m - the only man in Wyomin’ who remembers all the early hist’ry - and traditions about that cussed lost mine. I’ve hunted the hills - high and low, north, south, east and west, and dang my buttons if I can - imagine where them blamed nuggets came from. And my failure used to make - me at times a plenty hostile and peevish. John Warfield brought three of - ‘em out with him on his last trip. He gave Tom one, Boney one and me - one.” - </p> - <p> - Thrusting his hand into his pocket Rankin produced a native nugget of - gold, worn smooth and shiny, and looked at it long in silent meditation. - It was a fine specimen of almost pure gold, and was worth perhaps five and - twenty dollars. - </p> - <p> - Presently the old frontiersman brought his fist down with a startling - thump on his knee and said aloud: “I’ll be blankety-blanked if - I don’t believe in that dangnation fairy story yet. You bet I do, - and I’ll help John Warfield’s boy find it, by the great horn - spoon I will, if it takes every horse in the stable.” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin relit his pipe, smoked vigorously and thought. The power of - silence was strong upon him. The restless spirit of the fortune hunter was - again surging in his blood and awaking slumbering half-forgotten hopes—yes, - tugging at his heart-strings and calling to him to forsake all else and - flee to the hills. - </p> - <p> - Rankin was a character, a representative of the advance band of sturdy - trail-blazers of the West—tender-hearted as a child, generous to a - fault, ready to divide his last crust with a friend, yet quick to resent - an injury, and stubborn as a bullock when roused to self-defense. There - was nothing cunning about him, nothing of greed and avarice, no spirit of - envy for the possession of things for the things’ sake. But for him - there was real joy in the mad pursuit of things unattainable—a joy - that enthralled and enthused him with the fervor of eternal youth. His was - the simple life of the hills, loving his few chums and turning his back on - all whom he disliked or mistrusted. - </p> - <p> - Other men and greater men there may be, but it was men of Jim Rankin’s - type that could build, and did build, monuments among the wild western - waste of heat-blistered plains and gaunt rock-ribbed mountains, men who - braved the wilderness and there laid the first foundation stones of a - splendid civilization—splendid, yet even now only in its first - beginnings, a civilization that means happy homes and smiling fields where - before all was barrenness and desolation. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK spent a - few days in Rawlins, improving his acquaintance with Jim Rankin and making - a general survey of the situation. The ex-sheriff proved to be a veritable - repository of local information, and Roderick soon knew a little about - everyone and everything in the district. He learned that Tom Sun, one of - his father’s old associates, had from small beginnings come to be - the largest sheep owner in the state; he was rich and prosperous. With - Boney Earnest, however, the other friend mentioned in the letter, the case - was different. Boney had stuck for years to prospecting and desultory - mining without achieving any substantial success, but had eventually - become a blast furnace man in the big smelting plant at Encampment. There - he had worked his way up to a foreman’s position, and with his - practical knowledge of all the ores in the region was the real brains of - the establishment, as Jim Rankin forcibly declared. He had a large family - which absorbed all his earnings and always kept him on the ragged edge of - necessity. - </p> - <p> - Rankin himself was not too well fixed—just making a more or less - precarious subsistence out of his stage line and livery stable business. - But he had several big mining deals in hand or at least in prospect, one - or other of which was “dead sure to turn up trumps some day.” - The “some day” appeared to be indefinitely postponed, but - meanwhile Jim had the happiness of living in the genial sunshiny - atmosphere of hope. And the coming of Roderick had changed this mellowed - sunshine into positive radiance, rekindling all the old fires of - enthusiasm in the heart of the old-time prospector. With Roderick the - first surge of eager impetuosity had now settled down into quiet - determination. But old Jim Rankin’s blood was at fever-heat in his - eagerness to find the hidden valley. When alone with Roderick he could - talk of nothing else. - </p> - <p> - Roderick, however, had shrewdly and cautiously summed up the measure of - his usefulness. Jim Rankin had not the necessary capital to finance a - systematic search among the mountain fastnesses where nature so jealously - guarded her secret. Nor could he leave his horses and his livery business - for any long period, however glibly he might talk about “going out - and finding the blamed place.” As for any precise knowledge of where - the quest should be commenced, he had none. He had shared in the frequent - attempts and failures of Roderick’s father, and after a lapse of - some fifteen or sixteen years had even a slimmer chance now than then of - hitting the spot. So, all things duly considered, Roderick had adhered to - his original resolution of playing a lone hand. Not even to Rankin did he - show his father’s letter and map; their relations were simply an - understanding that the old frontiersman would help Roderick out to the - best of his power whenever opportunity offered and in all possible ways, - and that for services rendered there would be liberal recompense should - golden dreams come to be realized. - </p> - <p> - Another reason weighed with Roderick in holding to a policy of reticence. - Despite Jim’s own frequent cautions to “keep mum—say - nothing to nobody,” he himself was not the best hand at keeping a - secret, especially after a few cocktails had lubricated his natural - loquacity. At such moments, under the mildly stimulating influence, Jim - dearly loved to hint at mysterious knowledge locked up in his breast. And - in a mining camp vague hints are liable to become finger posts and - signboards—the very rocks and trees seem to be possessed of ears. So - young Warfield was at least erring on the safe side in keeping his own - counsel and giving no unnecessary confidences anywhere. - </p> - <p> - There was nothing to be gained by remaining longer at Rawlins. Roderick’s - slender finances rendered it imperative that he should find work of some - kind—work that would enable him to save a sufficient stake for the - prospecting venture, or give him the chance to search out the proper - moneyed partner who would be ready to share in the undertaking. And since - he had to work it would be well that his work should, if possible, be on - the range, where while earning his maintenance and husbanding his - resources, he could at the same time be spying out the land and gaining - invaluable experience. So he had on several occasions discussed with Jim - Rankin the chances of finding a temporary job on one of the big cattle - ranches, and after one of these conversations had come his decision to - move at once from Rawlins. His first “voyage of discovery” - would be to Encampment, the busy smelter town. He remembered the cordial - invitation extended to him by Grant Jones, the newspaper man, and felt - sure he would run across him there. From the first he had felt strongly - drawn to this buoyant young spirit of the West, and mingled with his - desire for such comradeship was just a little longing, maybe, to glimpse - again the fair smiling faces of the twin sisters—“mountain - wild flowers” as Grant Jones had so happily described Barbara and - Dorothy Shields. - </p> - <p> - So one fine morning Roderick found himself seated beside Jim Rankin on the - driver’s seat of an old-fashioned Concord stage coach. With a crack - of Jim’s whip, the six frisky horses, as was their wont at the - beginning of a journey, started off at a gallop down the street. Five or - six passengers were stowed away in the coach. But these were nothing to - Jim Rankin and Roderick Warfield. They could converse on their own affairs - during the long day’s drive. The old frontiersman was, as usual, in - talkative mood. - </p> - <p> - “By gunnies,” he exclaimed sotto-voce, as they wheeled along, - “we’ll find that pesky lost gold mine, don’t you forget - it. I know pretty dangnation near its location now. You bet I do and I’ll - unbosom myself and take you to it—jist you and me. I’m thinkin’ - a heap these yere days, you bet I am.” - </p> - <p> - Along in the afternoon they crossed over Jack Creek, an important stream - of water flowing from the west into the North Platte River. Jim Rankin - stopped the stage coach and pointed out to our hero the “deadline” - between the cattle and sheep range. “All this yere territory,” - said Jim, “lying north uv Jack Creek is nachure’s sheep - pasture and all lyin’ south uv Jack is cattle range.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s well known,” he went on, “where them blamed - pesky sheep feed and graze, by gunnies, vegetation don’t grow agin - successful for several years. The sheep not only nachurlly eat the grass - down to its roots, but their sharp hoofs cut the earth into fine pulp - fields uv dust. Jack Creek is the dividin’ line—the ‘dead - line.’.rdquo; - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by the ‘dead line’.” asked - Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “The ‘dead line,’”replied old Jim as he clucked - to his horses and swung his long whip at the off-leader—“the - ‘dead line’ is where by the great horn spoon the sheep can’t - go any furder south and the cattle darsn’t come any furder north, or - when they do, Hell’s a-pop-pin.’.rdquo; - </p> - <p> - “What happens?” - </p> - <p> - “What happens?” repeated the frontiersman as he expectorated a - huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at a cactus that stood near the roadway. - “Why, by gunnies, hundreds uv ondefensible sheep have been actooally - clubbed to death in a single night by raidin’ cowboys and the - sheep-herders shot to death while sleepin’ in their camp wagons: and - their cookin’ outfit, which is usually in one end uv the wagon, as - well as the camp wagons, burned to conceal evidence of these dastardly - murders. Oh, they sure do make things gay and genial like.” - </p> - <p> - “Astonishing! The cowboys must be a pretty wicked lot,” - interrogated Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it’s about six uv one and half a dozen uv the other. - You see these pesky sheep herders and the cowboys are all torn off the - same piece uv cloth. Many a range rider has been picked from his hoss by - these sheep men hidden away in these here rocky cliffs which overlook the - valley. They sure ‘nuff get tumultuous.” - </p> - <p> - “But what about the law?” inquired Roderick. “Does it - afford no protection?” - </p> - <p> - Jim laughed derisively, pushed his hat far back and replied: “Everybody - that does any killin’ in these here parts sure does it in - self-defense.” He chuckled at his superior knowledge of the West. - “Leastways, that’s what the evidence brings out afore the - courts. However, Tom Sun says the fussin’ is about over with. Last - year more’n twenty cattle men were sentenced to the pen’tentiary - up in the Big Horn country. Sort uv an offset fur about a score uv sheep - men that’s been killed by the cow punchers while tendin’ their - flocks on the range. You bet they’ve been mixin’ things up - with artil’ry a heap.” - </p> - <p> - “I clearly perceive,” said Roderick, “that your - sympathies are with the cattle men.” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin turned quickly and with his piercing black eyes glared at - Roderick as if he would rebuke him for his presumption. - </p> - <p> - “Young man, don’t be assoomin’. I ain’t got no - sympathy fur neither one uv ‘em. I don’t believe in murder and - I don’t believe very much in the pen’tentiary. ‘Course - when I was sheriff, I had to do some shootin’ but my shootin’ - wuz all within the law. No, I don’t care a cuss one way or ‘tother. - There are lots uv good fellers ridin’ range. Expect yer will be - ridin’ before long. Think I can help yer get a job on the Shields - ranch; if I can’t Grant Jones can. And ther’s lots uv mighty - good sheep-herders too. My old pal, Tom Sun, is the biggest sheep-man in - this whole dang-nation country and he’s square, he is. So you see I - ain’t got no preference, ‘tho’ I do say the hull kit and - bilin’ uv ‘em could be improved. Yes, I’m nootral. Put - that in yer pipe and smoke it, fur it goes dangnation long ways in this - man’s country to be nootral, and don’t git to furgit’n - it.” - </p> - <p> - It was late in the afternoon when they neared the little town of - Encampment. Old Jim Rankin began to cluck to his horses and swing his whip - gently and finally more pronouncedly. - </p> - <p> - If it is the invariable habit of stage drivers at the point of departure - to start off their horses in a full swinging gallop, it is an equally - inviolable rule, when they approach the point of arrival, that they come - in with a whoop and a hooray. These laws are just as immutable as ringing - the bell or blowing the locomotive whistle when leaving or nearing a - station. So when Jim Rankin cracked his whip, all six horses leaned - forward in their collars, wheeled up the main street in a swinging gallop, - and stopped abruptly in front of the little hotel. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick climbed down from the driver’s seat he was greeted with - a hearty “Hello, Warfield, welcome to our city.” The speaker - was none other than Grant Jones himself, for his newspaper instincts - always brought him, when in town, to meet the stage. - </p> - <p> - The two young men shook hands with all the cordiality of old friends. - </p> - <p> - “If you cannot get a room here at the hotel, you can bunk with me,” - continued Grant. “I have a little shack down towards the smelter.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick laughed and said: “Suppose, then, we don’t look for a - room. I’ll be mighty pleased to carry my baggage to your shack now.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, that’s a go,” said Grant; and together they - started down the street. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones’ bachelor home consisted of a single room—a - hastily improvised shack, as he had correctly called it, that had cost no - very large sum to build. It was decorated with many trophies of college - life and of the chase. Various college pennants were on the walls, - innumerable pipes, some rusty antiquated firearms, besides a brace of - pistols which Jim Rankin had given to Grant, supposed to be the identical - flint-locks carried by Big Nose George, a desperado of the early days. - </p> - <p> - “You see,” explained Grant as he welcomed his guest, “this - is my Encampment residence. I have another shack over at Dillon where I - edit my paper, the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>. I spend part of my time in - one place and part in the other. My business is in Dillon but social - attractions—Dorothy Shields, you may have already guessed—are - over this way.” And he blushed red as he laughingly made the - confession. - </p> - <p> - “And talking of the Shields, by the way,” resumed Grant. - “I want to tell you I took the liberty of mentioning your name to - the old man. He is badly in need of some more hands on the ranch—young - fellows who can ride and are reliable.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick was all alert. - </p> - <p> - “The very thing I’m looking for,” he said eagerly. - “Would he give me a place, do you think?” - </p> - <p> - “I’m certain of it. In fact I promised to bring you over to - the ranch as soon as you turned up at Encampment.” - </p> - <p> - “Mighty kind of you, old fellow,” remarked Roderick, - gratefully and with growing familiarity. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you can take that bed over there,” said the host. - “This one is mine. You’ll excuse the humble stretchers, I - know. Then after you have opened your grip and made yourself a little at - home, we’ll take a stroll. I fancy that a good big porterhouse won’t - come amiss after your long day’s drive. We’ve got some pretty - good restaurants in the town. I suppose you’ve already discovered - that a properly cooked juicy Wyoming steak is hard to beat, eh, you - pampered New Yorker?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick laughed as he threw open his valise and arranged his brushes and - other toilet appurtenances on the small table that stood at the head of - the narrow iron stretcher. - </p> - <p> - A little later, when night had fallen, the young men went out into the - main street to dine and look over the town. It was right at the edge of - the valley with mountains rising in a semi-circle to south and west, a - typical mountain settlement. - </p> - <p> - “You see everything is wide open,” said Grant, as he escorted - Roderick along the streets, arm linked in arm. For they had just - discovered that they belonged to the same college fraternity—Kappa - Gamma Delta, so the bonds of friendship had been drawn tighter still. - </p> - <p> - “You have a great town here,” observed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “We have about 1200 to 1500 people and 18 saloons!” laughed - the other. “And every saloon has a gambling lay-out—anything - from roulette to stud-poker. Over yonder is Brig Young’s place. Here - is Southpaw’s Bazaar. The Red Dog is a little farther along; the - Golden Eagle is one of the largest gambling houses in the town. We’ll - have our supper first, and then I’ll take you over to Brig Young’s - and introduce you.” - </p> - <p> - As they turned across the street they met a man coming toward them. He was - straight and tall, rather handsome, but a gray mustache made him seem - older than his years. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, here is Mr. Grady. Mr. Grady, I want to introduce you to a - newcomer. This is Mr. Roderick Warfield.” - </p> - <p> - “Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” said Grady in a smooth voice - and with an oleaginous smile. To Roderick the face seemed a sinister one; - instinctively he felt a dislike for the man. - </p> - <p> - “Your town is quite up-to-date, with all its brilliant electric - lights,” he observed with a polite effort at conversation. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Grady, “but it is the monthly pay roll of - my big smelting company that supports the whole place.” - </p> - <p> - There was a pomposity in the remark and the look that accompanied it which - added to Roderick’s feelings of repulsion. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don’t know,” interposed Grant Jones, in a - laughing way. “We have about five hundred prospectors up in the - hills who may not yet be producers, but their monthly expenditures run up - into pretty big figures.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, that amounts to something; but think of my pay roll,” - replied Grady, boastingly. “Almost a thousand men on my pay roll. We - have the biggest copper mine in the Rocky Mountain region, Mr. War-field. - Come down some day and see the smelter,” he added as he extended his - hand in farewell greeting, with a leer rather than a smile on his face. - “I’ll give you a pass.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said Roderick coldly. And the two friends resumed - their walk toward Brig Young’s saloon. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t mind telling you,” remarked Grant, “that - Grady is the most pompous, arrogant and all-round hated man in this mining - camp.” - </p> - <p> - “He looks the part,” replied Roderick, and they both laughed. - </p> - <p> - A minute later they were seated in a cosy little restaurant. Ample justice - was done to the succulent Wyoming porterhouse, and cigars were lighted - over the cups of fragrant coffee that completed the meal. Then the young - men resumed their peregrinations pursuant to the programme of visiting - Brig Young’s place, certified by Grant Jones to be one of the sights - of the town. - </p> - <p> - The saloon proved to be an immense room with a bar in the corner near the - entrance. Roulette tables, faro lay-outs and a dozen poker tables - surrounded with feverish players were all running full blast, while half a - hundred men were standing around waiting to take the place of any player - who went broke or for any reason dropped out of the game. - </p> - <p> - “I guess nearly all the gambling is done here, isn’t it?” - asked Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Not by a big sight. There are eighteen joints of this kind, and - they are all running wide open and doing business all the time.” - </p> - <p> - “When do they close?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “They never close,” replied Grant. “Brig Young boasts - that he threw the key away when this place opened, and the door has never - been locked since.” - </p> - <p> - As they spoke their attention was attracted to one corner of the gaming - room. Seven players were grouped around a table, in the centre of which - was stacked a pile of several thousand dollars in gold pieces. Grant and - Roderick strolled over. - </p> - <p> - A score of miners and cowboys were standing around watching the game. One - of them said to Grant Jones: “It’s a jack pot and they’re - dealing for openers.” - </p> - <p> - Finally someone opened the pot for $500. “It’s an all-fired - juicy pot and I wouldn’t think of openin’ it for less.” - Tom Lester was the player’s name, as Grant whispered to Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll stay,” said One-Eyed Joe. - </p> - <p> - “So will I,” said another. - </p> - <p> - The players were quickly assisted with cards—four refused to come - in, and the other three, having thrown their discards into the deck, sat - facing each other ready for the final struggle in determining the - ownership of the big pot before them. It was a neck and neck proposition. - First one would see and raise and then another would see and go better. - Finally, the showdown came, and it created consternation when it was - discovered that there were five aces in sight. - </p> - <p> - Instantly Tom Lester jerked his Colt’s revolver from his belt and - laid it carefully down on top of his three aces and said: “Steady, - boys, don’t move a muscle or a hand until I talk.” The - onlookers pushed back and quickly enlarged the circle. - </p> - <p> - “Sit perfectly still, gentlemen,” said Tom Lester, quietly and - in a low tone of voice, with his cocked revolver in front of him. “I’m - not makin’ any accusations or loud talk—I’m not accusin’ - anybody in particular of anything. Keep perfectly cool an’ hear a - cool determined man talk. Far be it from me to accuse anyone of crooked - dealin’ or holdin’ high cards up their sleeves.” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke he looked at One-Eyed Joe who had both a reputation at card - skin games and a record of several notches on his gun handle. - </p> - <p> - “I want to say,” Lester continued, “that I recognize in - the game we’re playin’ every man is a perfect gentleman and it’s - not Tom Lester who suspicions any impure motives or crooked work. - </p> - <p> - “We will now order a new deck of cards,” said Tom while fire - was flashing out of his steel gray eyes. “We will play this game to - a finish, by God, and the honest winner will take the stakes. But I will - say here and now so there may be no misunderstandin’ and without - further notice, that if a fifth ace shows up again around this table, I’ll - shoot his other eye out.” And he looked straight at One-Eyed Joe, - who never quivered or moved a muscle. - </p> - <p> - “This ends my remarks concernin’ the rules. How d’ye - like ‘em, Joe?” - </p> - <p> - “Me?” said Joe, looking up in a surprised way with his one - eye. “I’m ‘lowin’ you have made yer position plain—so - dangnation plain that even a blind man kin see the pint.” - </p> - <p> - The new deck was brought and the game went on in silence. After a few - deals the pot was again opened, and was in due course won by a player who - had taken no part in the previous mix-up, without a word falling from the - lips of either Tom Lester or One-Eyed Joe. - </p> - <p> - Roderick and Grant moved away. - </p> - <p> - “Great guns,” exclaimed the former. “But that’s a - rare glimpse of western life.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there are incidents like that every night,” replied - Grant, “and shooting too at times. Have a drink?” he added as - they approached the bar. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I will have a great big lemonade.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” laughed Grant, “I’ll surprise both you and - my stomach by taking the same.” - </p> - <p> - As they sipped their drinks, Grant’s face became a little serious as - he said: “I’m mighty glad you have come. You seem to be of my - own kind. Lots of good boys out here, but they are a little rough and many - of them are rather careless. Guess I am getting a little careless myself. - There are just two men in these mountains who have a good influence over - the boys. One is Major Buell Hampton. Everybody trusts him. By the way, I - must introduce you to him. He is one of the grandest men I have ever met” - As Grant said this he brought his fist down decisively on the bar. - </p> - <p> - “The other is the Reverend Stephen Grannon,” he went on, - “the travelling horseback preacher—carries saddle bags, and - all that. Why, do you know, the boys are so respectful to Reverend Grannon - that they hire a man to go up and down the street ringing a bell, and they - close up all their places for an hour every time he comes to town. He - preaches mostly in the big tent you perhaps saw further up the street, at - other times in the little church. The boys are mighty respectful to him, - and all because they know he goes about doing good. If anyone falls ill, - Reverend Grannon is the first to offer help. He visits the poor and cheers - them with a spirit of hope. He never leaves town without going into every - saloon and shaking hands with the barkeepers, giving them the same kind of - advice but not in the same way—the same advice that we used to get - when we stood around our mother’s knee before we had learned the - sorrows of the big world.” - </p> - <p> - For a moment Grant was serious. Then looking up at Roderick, he laughed - and said: “We all have to think of those old days once in a while, - don’t we?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick nodded gravely. - </p> - <p> - “Now I come to think of it,” said Grant, “the present - moment’s a very good time. We’ll go down and call on one of - Nature’s noblemen. He is somewhat of an enigma. You cannot tell how - old he is by looking at him. He may have seen fifty years or a hundred and - fifty—the Lord only knows, for nobody in this camp has any idea. But - you will meet a magnificent character. Come along. I’m going to - present you to my friend, Major Buell Hampton, about whom I’ve just - been speaking. I guess we’ll catch him at home.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S THE two young - men walked down the brilliantly lighted main street of Encampment, Grant - Jones explained that the water had been dammed several miles up the south - fork of the Encampment river and conducted in a California red-wood pipe - down to the smelter plant for power purposes; and that the town of - Encampment was lighted at a less cost per capita than any other town in - the world. It simply cost nothing, so to speak. - </p> - <p> - Grant had pointed out several residences of local celebrities, but at last - a familiar name drew Roderick’s special attention—the name of - one of his father’s old friends. - </p> - <p> - “This is Boney Earnest’s home,” Grant was remarking. - “He is the fellow who stands in front of the furnaces at the smelter - in a sleeveless shirt and with a red bandana around his neck. They have a - family of ten children, every one of them as bright as a new silver - dollar. Oh, we have lots of children here and by the way a good public - school. You see that log house just beyond? That is where Boney Earnest - used to live when he first came into camp—before his brood was quite - so numerous. It now belongs to Major Buell Hampton. It is not much to look - at, but just wait until you get inside.” - </p> - <p> - “Then this Major Hampton, I presume, has furnished it up in great - shape?” - </p> - <p> - “No, nothing but rough benches, a table, some chairs and a few - shelves full of books. What I mean is that Major Hampton’s - personality is there and that beats all the rich furniture and all the - bric-à-brac on earth. As a college man you will appreciate him.” - </p> - <p> - Without ceremony Grant rapped vigorously at the door and received a loud - response to “come in.” At the far end of a room that was - perhaps 40 feet long by 20 feet in width was an open fireplace in which - huge logs of wood were burning. Here Major Hampton was standing with his - back to the fire and his hands crossed behind him. - </p> - <p> - As his visitors entered, the Major said in courtly welcome: “Mr. - Grant Jones, I am glad to see you.” And he advanced with hand - extended. - </p> - <p> - “Major, let me introduce you to a newcomer, Roderick Warfield. We - belong to the same ‘frat.’.rdquo; - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Warfield,” responded the Major, shaking the visitor’s - hand, “I welcome you not only to the camp but to my humble dwelling.” - </p> - <p> - He led them forward and provided chairs in front of the open fire. On the - center table was a humidor filled with tobacco and beside it lay several - pipes. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Warfield,” observed the Major, speaking with a marked - southern accent, “I am indeed pleased, suh, to meet anyone who is a - friend of Mr. Jones. I have found him a most delightful companion and I - hope you will make free to call on me often. Interested in mining, I - presume?” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” replied Roderick, “interested, yes, in a way. - But tentative arrangements have been made for me to join the cowboy - brigade. I am to ride the range if Mr. Shields is pleased with me, as our - friend here seems to think he will be. He is looking for some more cowboys - and my name has been mentioned to him.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” concurred Grant, “Mr. Shields needs some more - cowboys very badly, and as Warfield is accustomed to riding, I’m - quite sure he’ll fill the bill.” - </p> - <p> - “Personally,” observed the Major, “I am very much - interested in mining. It has a great charm for me. The taking out of - wealth from the bosom of the earth—wealth that has never been - tainted by commercialism—appeals to me very much.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I presume you are doing some mining yourself.” - </p> - <p> - “No,” replied the Major. “If I had capital, doubtless I - would be in the mining business. But my profession, if I may term it so, - is that of a hunter. These hills and mountains are pretty full of game, - and I manage to find two or three deer a week. My friend and next door - neighbor, Mr. Boney Earnest, and his family consisting of a wife and ten - children, have been very considerate of me and I have undertaken the - responsibility of furnishing the meat for their table. Are you fond of - venison, Mr. Warfield?” - </p> - <p> - “I must confess,” said Roderick, “I have never tasted - venison.” - </p> - <p> - “Finest meat in the world,” responded the Major. “Of - course,” he went on, “I aim to sell about one deer a week, - which brings me a fair compensation. It enables me to buy tobacco and - ammunition,” and he laughed good naturedly at his limited wants. - </p> - <p> - “One would suppose,” interjected Grant Jones, “that the - Boney Earnest family must be provided with phenomenal appetites if they - eat the meat of two deer each week. But if you knew the Major’s - practice of supplying not less than a dozen poor families with venison - because they are needy, you would understand why he does not have a - greater income from the sale of these antlered trophies of the hills.” - </p> - <p> - The Major waved the compliment aside and lit his pipe. As he threw his - head well back after the pipe was going, Roderick was impressed that Major - Buell Hampton most certainly was an exceptional specimen of manhood. He - was over six feet tall, splendidly proportioned, and perhaps weighed - considerably more than two hundred pounds. - </p> - <p> - There were little things here and there that gave an insight into the - character of the man. Hanging on the wall was a broad-brimmed slouch hat - of the southern planter style. Around his neck the Major wore a heavy gold - watch guard with many a link. To those who knew him best, as Roderick came - subsequently to learn, this chain was symbolical of his endless kindnesses - to the poor—notwithstanding his own poverty, of such as he had he - freely gave; like the chain his charities seemed linked together without a - beginning—without an end. His well-brushed shoes and puttees, his - neatly arranged Windsor tie, denoted the old school of refinement and good - breeding. - </p> - <p> - His long dark hair and flowing mustaches were well streaked with gray. His - forehead was knotted, his nose was large but well formed, while the - tangled lines of his face were deep cut and noticeable. From under heavily - thatched eyebrows the eyes beamed forth the rare tenderness and gentle - consideration for others which his conversation suggested. Long before the - evening’s visit was over, a conviction was fixed in Roderick’s - heart that here indeed was a king among men—one on whom God had set - His seal of greatness. - </p> - <p> - In later days, when both had become well acquainted, Roderick sometimes - discovered moments when this strange man was in deep meditation—when - his eyes seemed resting far away on some mysterious past or inscrutable - future. And Roderick would wonder whether it was a dark cloud of memory or - anxiety for what was to come that obscured and momentarily dimmed the - radiance of this great soul. It was in such moments that Major Buell - Hampton became patriarchal in appearance; and an observer might well have - exclaimed: “Here is one over whom a hundred winters or even - countless centuries have blown their fiercest chilling winds.” But - when Buell Hampton had turned again to things of the present, his face was - lit up with his usual inspiring smile of preparedness to consider the - simplest questions of the poorest among the poor of his acquaintances—a - transfiguration indescribable, as if the magic work of some ancient - alchemist had pushed the years away, transforming the centenarian into a - comparatively young man who had seen, perhaps, not more than half a - century. He was, indeed, changeable as a chameleon. But in all phases he - looked, in the broadest sense of the word, the humanitarian. - </p> - <p> - As the three men sat that night around the fire and gazed into the leaping - flames and glowing embers, there had been a momentary lull in the - conversation, broken at last by the Major. - </p> - <p> - “I hope we shall become great friends, Mr. War-field,” he - said. “But to be friends we must be acquainted, and in order to be - really acquainted with a man I must know his views on politics, religion, - social questions, and the economic problems of the age in which we live.” - </p> - <p> - He waved his hand at the bookshelves well filled with volumes whose worn - bindings showed that they were there for reading and not for show. Long - rows of periodicals, even stacks of newspapers, indicated close attention - to the current questions of the day. - </p> - <p> - “Rather a large order,” replied Roderick, smiling. “It - would take a long time to test out a man in such a thorough way.” - </p> - <p> - The Major paid no heed to the comment. Still fixedly regarding the - bookshelves, he continued: “You see my library, while not extensive, - represents my possessions. Each day is a link in life’s chain, and I - endeavor to keep pace with the latest thought and the latest steps in the - world’s progress.” - </p> - <p> - Then he turned round suddenly and asked the direct question: “By the - way, Mr. Warfield, are you a married man?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick blushed the blush of a young bachelor and confessed that he was - not. - </p> - <p> - “Whom God hath joined let no man put asunder,” laughed Grant - Jones. “The good Lord has not joined me to anyone yet, but I am - hoping He will.” - </p> - <p> - “Grant, you are a boy,” laughed the Major. “You always - will be a boy. You are quick to discover the ridiculous; and yet,” - went on the Major reflectively, “I have seen my friend Jones in - serious mood at times. But I like him whether he is frivolous or serious. - When you boys speak of marriage as something that is arranged by a Divine - power, you are certainly laboring under one of the many delusions of this - world.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick remembered his compact with Stella Rain, the pretty little - college widow. For a moment his mind was back at the campus grounds in old - Galesburg. Presently he said: “I beg your pardon, Major, but would - you mind giving me your ideas of an ideal marriage?” - </p> - <p> - “An ideal marriage,” repeated the Major, smiling, as he - knocked the ashes from his meerschaum. “Well, an ideal marriage is a - something the young girl dreams about, a something the engaged girl - believes she has found, and a something the married woman knows never - existed.” - </p> - <p> - He looked deep into the open grate as if re-reading a half forgotten - chapter in his own life. Presently refilling and lighting his pipe he - turned to Roderick and said: “When people enter into marriage—a - purely civil institution—a man agrees to bring in the raw products—the - meat, the flour, the corn, the fuel; and the woman agrees to manufacture - the goods into usable condition. The husband agrees to provide a home—the - wife agrees to take care of it and keep it habitable. In one respect - marriage is slavery,” continued the Major, “slavery in the - sense that each mutually sentences himself or herself to a life of - servitude, each serving the other in, faithfully carrying out, when health - permits, their contract or agreement of partnership. Therefore marriages - are made on earth—not in heaven. There is nothing divine about them. - They are, as I have said, purely a civil institution.” - </p> - <p> - The speaker paused. His listeners, deeply interested, were reluctant by - any interruption to break the flow of thought. They waited patiently, and - presently the Major resumed: “Since the laws of all civilized - nations recognize the validity of a partnership contract, they should also - furnish an honorable method of nullifying and cancelling it when either - party willfully breaks the marriage agreement of partnership by act of - omission or commission. Individuals belonging to those isolated cases - ‘Whom God hath joined’—if perchance there are any—of - course have no objections to complying with the formalities of the - institutions of marriage; they are really mated and so the divorce court - has no terrors for them. It is only from among the great rank and file of - the other class whom ‘God hath <i>not</i> joined’ that the - unhappy victims are found hovering around the divorce courts, claiming - that the partnership contract has been violated and broken and the erring - one has proven a false and faithless partner. - </p> - <p> - “In most instances, I believe, and it is the saddest part of it all, - the complainant is usually justified. And it is certainly a most wise, - necessary, and humane law that enables an injured wife or husband to - terminate a distasteful or repulsive union. Only in this way can the - standard of humanity be raised by peopling the earth with natural - love-begotten children, free from the effects of unfavorable pre-natal - influences which not infrequently warp and twist the unborn into embryonic - imbeciles or moral perverts with degenerate tendencies. - </p> - <p> - “Society as well as posterity is indebted fully as much to the civil - institution of divorce as it is to the civil institution of marriage. Oh, - yes, I well know, pious-faced church folks walk about throughout the land - with dubs to bludgeon those of my belief without going to the trouble of - submitting these vital questions to an unprejudiced court of inquiry.” - </p> - <p> - The Major smiled, and said: “I see you young men are interested in - my diatribe, or my sermon—call it which you will—so I’ll - go on. Well, the churches that are nearest to the crudeness of antiquity, - superstition, and ignorance are the ones most unyielding and denunciatory - to the institution of divorce. The more progressive the church or the - community and the more enlightened the human race becomes, the less - objectionable and the more desirable is an adequate system of divorce laws—laws - that enable an injured wife or husband to refuse to stultify their - conscience and every instinct of decency by bringing children into the - world that are not welcome. A womanly woman covets motherhood—desires - children—love offerings with which to people the earth—babes - that are not handicapped with parental hatreds, regrets, or disgust. - Marriage is not a flippant holiday affair but a most serious one, - freighted not alone with grave responsibilities to the mutual happiness of - both parties to the civil contract, but doubly so to the offspring - resultant from the union. But I guess that is about enough of my - philosophy for one evening, isn’t it?” he concluded, with a - little laugh that was not devoid of bitterness—it might have been - the bitterness of personal reminiscence, or bitterness toward a blind and - misguided world in general, or perhaps both combined. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones turning to Roderick said: “Well, what do you think of - the Major’s theory?” - </p> - <p> - “I fear,” said Roderick in a serious tone, “that it is - not a theory but an actual condition.” - </p> - <p> - “Bravo,” said the Major as he arose from his chair and - advanced to Roderick, extending his hand. “All truth,” said - he, “in time will be uncovered, truth that today is hidden beneath - the débris of formalities, ignorance, and superstition.” - </p> - <p> - “But why, Major,” asked Grant, “are there so many - divorces? Do not contracting parties know their own minds? Now it seems - impossible to conceive of my ever wanting a divorce from a certain little - lady I know,” he added with a pleasant laugh—the care-free, - confiding laugh of a boy. - </p> - <p> - “My dear Jones,” said the Major, “the supposed reasons - for divorce are legion—the actual reasons are perhaps few. However - it is not for me to say that all the alleged reasons are not potent and - sufficient. When we hear two people maligning each other in or out of the - court we are prone to believe both are telling the truth. Truth is the - underlying foundation of respect, respect begets friendship, and - friendship sometimes is followed by the more tender passion we call love. - A man meets a woman,” the Major went on, thoughtfully, “whom - he knows is not what the world calls virtuous. He may fall in love with - her and may marry her and be happy with her. But if a man loves a woman he - believes to be virtuous and then finds she is not—it is secretly - regarded by him as the unforgivable sin and is doubtless the unspoken and - unwritten allegation in many a divorce paper.” - </p> - <p> - He mused for a moment, then went on: “Sometime there will be a - single standard of morals for the sexes, but as yet we are not far enough - away from the brutality of our ancestors. Yes, it is infinitely better,” - he added, rising from his chair, “that a home should be broken into - a thousand fragments through the kindly assistance of a divorce court - rather than it should only exist as a family battle ground.” The - tone of his voice showed that the talk was at an end, and he bade his - visitors a courteous good-night, with the cordial addition: “Come - again.” - </p> - <p> - “It was great,” remarked Roderick, as the young men wended - their homeward way. “What a wealth of new thought a fellow can bring - away from such a conversation!” - </p> - <p> - “Just as I told you,” replied Grant “But the Major opens - his inmost heart like that only to his chosen friends.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I’m mighty glad to be enrolled among the number,” - said Roderick. “Makes a chap feel rather shy of matrimony though, - doesn’t it?” - </p> - <p> - “Not on your life. True love can never change—can never wrong - itself. When you feel that way toward a girl, Warfield, and know that the - girl is of the same mind, go and get the license—no possible mistake - can be made.” - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones was thinking of Dorothy Shields, and his face was aglow. To - Roderick had come thought of Stella Rain, and he felt depressed. Was there - no mistake in his love affair?—this was the uneasy question that was - beginning to call for an answer. And yet he had never met a girl whom he - would prefer to the dainty, sweet, unselfish, brave little “college - widow” of Galesburg. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ITHIN a few days - of Roderick’s advent into the camp he was duly added to the cowboy - list on the ranch of the wealthy cattleman, Mr. Shields, whose property - was located a few miles east from the little mining town and near the - banks of the Platte River. A commodious and handsome home stood apart from - the cattle corral and bunk house lodgings for the cowboy helpers. There - were perhaps twenty cowboys in Mr. Shields’ employment. His vast - herds of cattle ranged in the adjoining hills and mountain canyons that - rimmed the eastern edge of the valley. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones had proved his friendship in the strongest sort of an - introduction, and was really responsible for Roderick securing a job so - quickly. But it was not many days before Roderick discovered that Doro-try - Shields was perhaps the principal reason why Grant rode over to the ranch - so often, ostensibly to visit him. - </p> - <p> - During the first month Roderick did not leave the ranch but daily - familiarized himself with horse and saddle. He had always been a good - rider, but here he learned the difference between a trained steed and an - unbroken mustang. Many were his falls and many his bruises, but finally he - came to be quite at home on the back of the fiercest bucking broncho. - </p> - <p> - One Saturday evening he concluded to look up Grant Jones and perhaps have - another evening with Major Buell Hampton. So he saddled a pony and - started. But at the edge of town he met his friend riding toward the - country. They drew rein, and Grant announced, as Roderick had already - divined, that he was just starting for the Shields home. They finally - agreed to call on Major Buell Hampton for half an hour and then ride out - to the ranch together. - </p> - <p> - As they approached Major Hampton’s place they found him mounting his - horse, having made ready for the hills. - </p> - <p> - “How is this, Major?” asked Grant Jones. “Is it not - rather late in the afternoon for you to be starting away with your trusty - rifle?” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” replied the Major, after saluting his callers most - cordially, “yes, it is late. But I know where there is a deer lick, - and as I am liable to lose my reputation as a hunter if I do not bring in - a couple more venisons before long, why I propose to be on the ground with - the first streak of daylight tomorrow morning.” - </p> - <p> - He glanced at the afternoon sun and said: “I think I can reach the - deer lick soon after sun-down. I shall remain over night and be ready for - the deer when they first begin stirring. They usually frequent the lick I - intend visiting.” - </p> - <p> - The Major seemed impatient to be gone and soon his horse was cantering - along carrying him into the hills, while Roderick and Grant were riding - leisurely through the lowlands of the valley road toward the Shields - ranch. - </p> - <p> - All through the afternoon Buell Hampton skirted numerous rocky banks and - crags and climbed far up into the mountain country, then down abrupt - hill-sides only to mount again to still higher elevations. He was - following a dim trail with which he showed himself familiar and that led - several miles away to Spirit River Falls. - </p> - <p> - Near these falls was the deer lick. For three consecutive trips the hunter - had been unsuccessful. He had witnessed fully a dozen deer disappear along - the trail that led down to the river’s bank, but none of them had - returned. It was a mystery. He did not understand where the deer could - have gone. There was no ford or riffle in the river and the waters were - too deep to admit belief of the deer finding a crossing. He wondered what - was the solution. - </p> - <p> - This was the real reason why he had left home late that afternoon, - determined, when night came on, to tether his horse in the woods far away - from the deer lick, make camp and be ready the following morning for the - first appearance of some fine buck as he came to slake his thirst. If he - did not get that buck he would at least find the trail—indeed on the - present occasion it was less the venison he was after than the solving of - the mystery. - </p> - <p> - Arriving at his destination, the improvised camp was leisurely made and - his horse given a generous feed of oats. After this he lighted a fire, and - soon a steaming cup of coffee helped him to relish the bread and cold meat - with which he had come provided. - </p> - <p> - After smoking several pipes of tobacco and building a big log fire for the - night—for the season was far advanced and there was plenty of snow - around—Buell Hampton lay down in his blankets and was soon fast - asleep, indifferent to the blinking stars or to the rhythmic stirring of - clashing leafless limbs fanned into motion by the night winds. - </p> - <p> - With the first breaking of dawn the Major was stirring. After refreshing - himself with hot coffee and glancing at the cartridges in his rifle, he - stole silently along under the overhanging foliage toward the deer lick. - </p> - <p> - The watcher had hardly taken a position near an old fallen tree when five - deer came timidly along the trail, sniffing the air in a half suspicious - fashion. - </p> - <p> - Lifting his rifle to his shoulder the hunter took deliberate aim and - fired. A young buck leaped high in the air, wheeled about from the trail - and plunged madly toward his enemy. But it was the stimulated madness of - death. The noble animal fell to its knees—then partially raised - itself with one last mighty effort only to fall back again full length, - vanquished in the uneven battle with man. The Major’s hunting knife - quickly severed the jugular vein and the animal was thoroughly bled. A - little later this first trophy of the chase had been dressed and gambreled - with the dexterity of a stock yard butcher and hung high on the limb of a - near by tree. - </p> - <p> - The four remaining deer, when the Major fired, had rushed frantically down - the trail bordered with dense underbrush and young trees that led over the - brow of the embankment and on down to the river. The hunter now started in - pursuit, following the trail to the water’s edge. But there were no - deer to be seen. - </p> - <p> - Looking closely he noted that the tracks turned directly to the left - toward the waterfall. - </p> - <p> - The bank was very abrupt, but by hugging it closely and stepping sometimes - on stones in the water, while pushing the overhanging and tangled - brushwood aside, he succeeded in making some headway. To his surprise the - narrow trail gave evidence of much use, as the tracks were indeed - numerous. But where, he asked himself, could it possibly lead? However, he - was determined to persevere and solve the mystery of where the deer had - gone and thus escaped him on the previous occasions. - </p> - <p> - Presently he had traversed the short distance to the great cataract - tumbling over the shelf of rock almost two hundred feet above. Here he - found himself under the drooping limbs of a mammoth tree that grew so - close to the waterfall that the splashing spray enveloped him like a cold - shower. Following on, to his astonishment he reached a point behind the - waterfall where he discovered a large cavern with lofty arched roof, like - an immense hall in some ancient ruined castle. - </p> - <p> - While the light was imperfect yet the morning sun, which at that hour - shone directly on the cascade, illuminated up the cavern sufficiently for - the Major to see into it for quite a little distance. It seemed to recede - directly into the mountain. The explorer cautiously advanced, and soon was - interested at another discovery. A stream fully fifteen feet wide and - perhaps two feet deep flowed directly out of the heart of the mountain - along the center of the grotto, to mingle its waters with those of Spirit - River at the falls. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton paused to consider this remarkable discovery. He now - remembered that the volume of Spirit River had always impressed him as - being larger below the noted Spirit River Falls than above, and here was - the solution. The falls marked the junction of two bodies of water. Where - this hidden river came from he had no idea. Apparently its source was some - great spring situated far back in the mountain’s interior. - </p> - <p> - The Major was tensioned to a high key, and determined to investigate - further. Making his way slowly and carefully along the low stone shelf - above the river, he found that the light did not penetrate more than about - three hundred feet. Looking closely he found there was an abundance of - deer sign, which greatly mystified him. - </p> - <p> - Retracing his steps to the waterfall, the Major once more crept along the - path next to the abrupt river bank, and, climbing up the embankment, - regained the deer trail where he had shot the young buck. He seated - himself on an old fallen tree. Here on former occasions Major Hampton had - waited many an hour for the coming of deer and indulged in day-dreaming - how to relieve the ills of humanity, how to lighten the burdens of the - poor and oppressed. Now, however, he was roused to action, and was no - longer wrapped in the power of silence and the contemplation of abstract - subjects. His brain and his heart were throbbing with the excitement of - adventure and discovery. - </p> - <p> - After full an hour’s thought his decision was reached and a course - of action planned. First of all he proceeded to gather a supply of dry - brush and branches, tying them into three torch-like bundles with stout - cord, a supply of which he invariably carried in his pockets. Then he - inspected his match box to make sure the matches were in good condition. - Finally picking up his gun, pulling his hunting belt a little tighter, - examining his hatchet and knife to see if they were safe in his belt - scabbard, he again set forth along the deer trail, down to the river. - Overcoming the same obstacles as before, he soon found himself in the - grotto behind the waterfall. - </p> - <p> - Lighting one of his torches the Major started on a tour of further - discovery. His course again led him over the comparatively smooth ledge of - rock that served as a low bank for the waters of the hidden stream. But - now he was able to advance beyond the point previously gained. After a - while his torch burned low and he lighted another. The subterranean - passage he was traversing narrowed at times until there was scarcely more - than room to walk along the brink of the noisy waters, and again it would - widen out like some great colosseum. The walls and high ceilings were - fantastically enchanting, while the light from his torch made strange - shadows, played many tricks on his nerves, and startled him with optical - illusions. Figures of stalactites and rows of basaltic columns reflected - the flare of the brand held aloft, and sometimes the explorer fancied - himself in a vault hung with tapestries of brilliant sparkling crystals. - </p> - <p> - Finally the third and last torch was almost burned down to the hand hold - and the Major began to awaken to a keen sense of his difficult position, - and its possible dangers. When attempting to change the stub of burning - brushwood from one hand to the other and at the same time not drop his - rifle, the remnants of the torch fell from his grasp into the rapid - flowing waters and he was left in utter darkness. Apprehension came upon - him—an eerie feeling of helplessness. True, there was a box of - matches in the pocket of his hunting coat, but these would afford but - feeble guidance in a place where at any step there might be a pitfall. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton was a philosopher, but this was a new experience, startling - and unique. Everything around was pitch dark. He seemed to be enveloped in - a smothering black robe. Presently above the murmur and swish of running - water he could hear his heart beating. He mentally figured that he must - have reached a distance of not less than three miles from Spirit River - Falls. The pathway had proved fairly smooth walking, but unknown dangers - were ahead, while a return trip in Stygian darkness would be an ordeal - fraught with much risk. - </p> - <p> - Stooping over the low bank he thrust his hand into the current to make - sure of its course. The water was only a little below the flat ledge of - rock on which he was standing, and was cold as the waters of a mountain - spring. It occurred to him that he had been thirsty for a long time - although in his excitement he had not been conscious of this. So he lay - down flat and thrust his face into the cool grateful water. - </p> - <p> - Rising again to his feet he felt greatly refreshed, his nerve restored, - and he had just about concluded to retrace his steps when his eyes, by - this time somewhat accustomed to the darkness, discovered in an upstream - direction, a tiny speck of light He blinked and then questioningly rubbed - his eyes. But still the speck did not disappear. It seemed no larger than - a silver half dollar. It might be a ray of light filtering through some - crevice, indicating a tunnel perhaps that would afford means of escape. - </p> - <p> - Using his gun as a staff wherewith to feel his way and keeping as far as - possible from the water’s edge, Major Hampton moved slowly upstream - toward the guiding spot of radiance. In a little while he became convinced - it was the light of day shining in through an opening. The speck grew - larger and larger as he slowly moved forward. - </p> - <p> - Every once in a while he would stop and turn his face in the opposite - direction, remaining in this position for a few moments and then quickly - turning round again to satisfy himself that he was under no illusion. But - the luminous disc was really growing larger—it appeared now to be as - big as a saucer. His heart throbbed with hope and his judgment approved - that the advance should be continued. - </p> - <p> - Yes, the light was increasing, and looking down he fancied he could almost - see the butt of his gun which was being used as a walking stick. Presently - his feet could indistinctly be seen, and then the rocky pavement over - which he was so cautiously shuffling his way. - </p> - <p> - Ten minutes later the mouth of a tunnel was reached, and he was safe once - more, bathed in God’s own sunshine, his eyes still dazzled after the - Cimmerian blackness from which he had emerged. He had traversed the entire - length of the subterranean cave or river channel, and had reached the - opposite side of a high mountain. Perhaps the distance through was only - about three and a half miles. Trees and underbrush grew in profusion about - the mouth of the tunnel into which the hidden river flowed. There was less - snow than on the other side of the barrier. Deer sign were everywhere, and - he followed a zig-zag deer path out into an open narrow valley. - </p> - <p> - The Major’s heart now leaped with the exultation of accomplishment. - Brushing the light covering of snow away, he seated himself on the bank of - the stream which could not, now that he looked upon it in the open day, be - dignified by calling it a river. Along the edges of the watercourse were - fringes of ice but in the center the rapid flow was unobstructed. - </p> - <p> - It was only a big mountain brook, but one perhaps that had never been seen - before by the eyes of man. The exploration and the excitement together had - greatly fatigued Buell Hampton, and he was beginning to be conscious of - physical exhaustion and the need of food notwithstanding the sustaining - stimulus of being a discoverer in one of Nature’s jealously guarded - wonderlands. - </p> - <p> - After resting a short time he started to walk farther into the valley and - forage along the stream. The hunter was on the lookout for grouse but - succeeded in shooting only a young sage hen. This was quickly dressed and - broiled, the forked stick that served as a spit being skilfully turned in - the blaze of a fire of twigs and brushwood. The repast was a modest one, - but the wayfarer felt greatly refreshed, and now stepped briskly on, - following the water channel toward its fountain head. - </p> - <p> - It was indeed a beautiful valley—an ideal one—very little snow - and the deer so plentiful that at a distance they might be mistaken for - flocks of grazing sheep. The valley appeared to be exceedingly fertile in - season. It was a veritable park, and so far as the explorer could at - present determine was completely surrounded by high snow-capped mountains - which were steep enough to be called precipices. He soon came to a dyke - that ran across the valley at right angles to the stream. It was of - porphyry formation, rising to a height of from three to four feet, and - reaching right across the narrow valley from foothill to foothill. When - Major Hampton climbed upon this dyke he noticed that the swiftly flowing - brook had cut an opening through it as evenly almost as if the work had - been chiseled by man. He was anxious to know whether the valley would lead - to an opening from among the mountains, and after a brief halt pushed - hurriedly on. - </p> - <p> - But an hour later he had retraced his steps and was again seated on the - bench-like dyke of porphyry. He had made a complete circuit of this - strange “nest” or gash in the vastness of the Rocky Mountain - Range and was convinced there was no opening. The brook had its rise in a - number of mammoth springs high up on the mountain foothills at the upper - end of the valley, where it was also fed by several waterfalls that - dropped from the dizzy cliffs far above. - </p> - <p> - The valley was perhaps three miles long east and west and not over - one-half mile wide north and south. The contour of the mountain sides to - the south conformed to the contour on the north, justifying the reasonable - conjecture that an earthquake or violent volcanic upheaval must have tom - the mountains apart in prehistoric times. It was evidently in all truth a - hidden valley—not on the map of the U. S. Survey—a veritable - new land. - </p> - <p> - “To think,” mused the Major, aloud, “that I have - discovered a new possession. What an asylum for the weary! Surely the day - has been full of startling surprises.” - </p> - <p> - He was seated on the dyke almost at the very edge of the brock where the - waters were singing their song of peaceful content. He let his glance - again sweep the valley with the satisfied look of one conscious of some - unanalyzed good fortune. - </p> - <p> - There was no snow on the porphyry dyke where he rested. It was - moss-covered in many places with the coating of countless centuries. Most - likely no human foot but his had ever pressed the sod of this sequestered - nook among the mighty mountains. The very thought was uplifting—inspiring. - Pulling his hunter’s hatchet from its sheath he said aloud: “I - christen thee ‘Hidden Valley,’”and struck the porphyry - rock a vigorous blow, so vigorous indeed that it chipped off a goodly - piece. - </p> - <p> - Major Buell Hampton paused, astonished. He looked and then he looked - again. He picked up the chipped off piece of rock and gazed long and - earnestly at it, then rubbed his eyes in amazement. It was literally - gleaming with pure gold. - </p> - <p> - Immediately the hatchet again came into play. Piece after piece was broken - open and all proved to be alike—rich specimens fit for the cabinet - of a collector. The drab moss-covered dyke really contained the wealth of - a King Solomon’s mine. It was true—true, though almost - unbelievable. Yet in this moment of overwhelming triumph Buell Hampton saw - not with the eyes of avarice and greed for personal gain, but rather with - the vision of the humanitarian. Unlimited wealth had always been for him a - ravishing dream, but he had longed for it, passionately, yearningly, not - as a means to supply pleasures for himself but to assuage the miseries of - a suffering world. - </p> - <p> - He was not skilled in judging rock carrying values of precious metals, but - in this instance the merest novice could hardly be mistaken. Hastily - breaking as much of the golden ore as he could carry in his huge coat - pockets and taking one last sweeping survey over the valley, the Major - started on his return trip to Spirit River Falls. Arriving at the point - where the waters of the brook disappeared in the natural tunnel of the - “Hidden River,” the name he mentally gave to the romantic - stream, he gathered some torch material and then started on the return - trip. Two hours later he emerged from behind the turbulent waters at - Spirit River Falls. In the waning afternoon he regained his camp. After - watering his patient horse, giving it another feed of oats and apologizing - with many a gentle caressing pat for his long absence and seeming neglect, - the Major set out for home, the dressed deer strapped on behind his - saddle, with the deer skin rolled around the venison as a protection. - </p> - <p> - Early the following morning Buell Hampton visited an assay office, - carrying with him an ore sack containing nine pounds and a half of ore. - The Major felt certain it was ore—gold ore, almost pure gold—but - was almost afraid of his own convictions. The discovery was really too - good to be true. - </p> - <p> - The assayer tossed the sack of gold onto a table where other samples were - awaiting his skill and said: “All right, Major, come in sometime - tomorrow.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s important,” replied the Major, “that you - assay it at once. It is high grade; I wish to sell.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, ho!” replied the assayer with elevated eyebrows. Possibly - he was like many another who encouraged the “high-graders” in - their nefarious thefts from their employers when they were trusted to work - on a rich property. - </p> - <p> - “Why, Major Hampton, I didn’t know you were one of ‘em—one - of us,” and he finished with a leer and a laugh. “Bet I can - tell what mine it came from,” he went on as he leisurely untied the - ore sacks. - </p> - <p> - “I will remain right here,” replied Major Hampton firmly, - without yielding to the assayer’s offensive hilarity, “until - you have my samples assayed and make me an offer.” - </p> - <p> - By this time the sack of rock had been emptied into an ore pan and the - astonishment depicted on the assayer’s countenance would have - beggared description. The sight of the ore staggered him into silence. - Other work was pushed hurriedly aside and before very long the fire test - was in process of being made. When finally finished the “button” - weighed at the rate of $114.67 per pound, and the assayer, still half - bewildered, handed over a check for almost eleven hundred dollars. - </p> - <p> - “I say,” he almost shouted, “I say, Major Hampton, where - in hell did that ore come from? Surely not from any of the producing mines - about here?” - </p> - <p> - “It seems to be a producer, all right,” replied the Major, as - he folded the check and placed it in his pocketbook. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Buell Hampton - left the assayer’s office he felt a chilliness in the air that - caused him to cast his eyes upwards. There had been bright sunshine early - that morning, but now the whole sky was overcast with a dull monotonous - gray pall. Not a breath of wind was stirring; there was just a cold - stillness in the air that told its own tale to those experienced in the - weather signs of the mountains. - </p> - <p> - “Snow,” muttered the Major, emphatically. “It has been - long in coming this winter, but we’ll have a big fall by night.” - </p> - <p> - The season indeed had been exceptionally mild. There had been one or two - flurries of snow, but each had been followed by warm days and the light - fall had speedily melted, at least in the open valley. High up, the - mountains had their white garb of winter, but even at these elevations - there had been no violent storms. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton, however, realized that the lingering autumn was now gone, - and that soon the whole region would be in the rigorous grip of the Snow - King. Henceforth for some months to come would be chill winds, protracted - and frequently recurring downfalls of snow, great high-banked snowdrifts - in the canyons, and later on the mighty snowslides that sheared - timber-clad mountain slopes as if with a giant’s knife and - occasionally brought death and destruction to some remote mining camp. For - the present the Major’s hunting expeditions were at an end. But as - he glanced at the heavy canopy of snow-laden cloud he also knew that days - must elapse, weeks perhaps, before he could revisit the hidden valley high - up in the mountains. For yet another winter tide Nature would hold her - treasure safe from despoiling hands. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton faced the situation with characteristic philosophy. All - through the afternoon he mused on his good fortune. He was glad to have - brought down even only a thousand dollars from the golden storehouse, for - this money would ensure comfort during the inclement season for a good few - humble homes. Meanwhile, like a banker with reserves of bullion safely - locked up in his vault, he could plan out the future and see how the - treasure was to be placed to best advantage. In Buell Hampton’s case - the field of investment was among the poor and struggling, and the only - dividends he cared for were increased percentages of human happiness. The - coming of winter only delayed the good work he had in mind, but even now - the consciousness of power to perform brought great joy to his heart. - Alone in his home he paced the big room, only pausing at times to throw - another log on the fire or gaze awhile into the glowing embers, - day-dreaming, unspeakably happy in his day-dreams. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile, in anticipation of the coming snowstorm, young Warfield was - riding the range and gathering cattle and yearlings that had strayed away - from the herd. As he was surmounting a rather steep foothill across the - valleys to the westward between the two Encampment rivers, he was startled - at hearing the patter of a horse’s hoofs. Quickly looking up he saw - a young woman on horseback dashing swiftly along and swinging a lariat. - She wore a divided brown skirt, wide sombrero, fringed gauntlets, and sat - her horse with graceful ease and confidence. She was coming down the - mountainside at right angles to his course. - </p> - <p> - Bringing his pony quickly to a standstill Roderick watched the spirited - horse-woman as she let go her lariat at an escaping yearling that - evidently had broken out of some corral The lariat went straight to its - mark, and almost at the same moment he heard her voice as she spoke to her - steed, quickly but in soft melodious tones: “That will do, - Fleetfoot. Whoa!” Instantly the well-trained horse threw himself - well back on his haunches and veered to the left. The fleeing yearling was - caught around one of its front feet and thrown as neatly as the most - expert cowboy on the range could have done it. - </p> - <p> - “By George,” said Roderick to himself, “what a fine - piece of work.” He watched with admiring eyes as the young lady sat - her horse in an attitude of waiting. Presently a cowboy rode up, and - relieving her of the catch started the yearling back, evidently toward the - corral. Turning about, the horsewoman started her horse at a canter - directly toward him, and Roderick fell to wondering what sort of a - discovery he had made. - </p> - <p> - A moment later she brought her horse to a standstill and acknowledged his - salutation as he lifted his sombrero. He saw the red blood glowing under - the soft tan of her cheeks, and as their eyes met he was fairly dazzled by - her beauty. He recognized at a glance the western type of girl, frank and - fearless, accustomed to the full and health-giving freedom of life in the - open, yet accomplished and domesticated, equally at home in the most - tastefully adorned drawing room as here on horseback among the mountains. - </p> - <p> - “I beg pardon,” he said in a stammering way, “but can I - be of any service?” - </p> - <p> - At his words she pulled her pony to a standstill and said: “In what - way, pray?”—and there was a mischievous smile at Roderick’s - obvious embarrassment. - </p> - <p> - “Why, I saw you lariating a yearling.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” she said, throwing back her head and laughing softly, - “that was a long time ago. It is doubtless in the corral by now.” - </p> - <p> - As she spoke, Roderick dismounted. He was capable now of assimilating - details, and noted the silken dark Egyptian locks that fell in fluffy - waves over her temples in a most bewitching manner, and the eyes that - shone with the deep dark blue of the sapphire. His gaze must have betrayed - his admiration, for, courteously waving her hand, she touched with her - spurs the flanks of her mount and bounded away across the hills. Roderick - was left standing in wonderment. - </p> - <p> - “Who the dickens can she be?” he soliloquized. “I’ve - been riding the range for a good many weeks, but this is the first time I’ve - spotted this mountain beauty.” - </p> - <p> - Throwing himself onto his horse, he started down toward the south fork of - the Encampment river and on to the westward the Shields ranch, wondering - as he rode along who this strange girl of the hills could be. Once or - twice he thought of Stella Rain and he manfully endeavored to keep his - mind concentrated on the one to whom he was betrothed, running over in - memory her last letter, reckoning the time that must elapse before the - next one would arrive, recalling the tender incidents of their parting now - two months ago. But his efforts were in vain. Always there kept recurring - the vision of loveliness he had encountered on the range, and the mystery - that surrounded the fair rider’s identity. Once again since Major - Buell Hampton’s long diatribe on love and matrimony, he was vaguely - conscious that his impetuous love-making on that memorable evening at - Galesburg might have been a mistake, and that the little “college - widow” in her unselfishness had spoken words of wisdom when she had - counselled him to wait awhile—until he really did know his own mind—until - he had really tried out his own heart, yes, until—Great heavens, he - found himself recalling her very words, spoken with tears in her soft - pretty eyes: “That’s just the trouble, Roderick. You do not - know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you won’t know until - the other girl comes along.” - </p> - <p> - Had the other girl at last come? But at the disloyal thought he spurred - his horse to a gallop, and as he did so the first snowflakes of the coming - storm fluttered cold and damp against his flushed cheeks. At last he - thought of other things; he was wondering now, as he glanced around into - the thickening atmosphere, whether all the stray mavericks were at last - safe in the winter pastures and corrals. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HAT night the big - snow storm did indeed come, and when Roderick woke up next morning it was - to find mountain and valley covered with a vast bedspread of immaculate - white and the soft snowflakes still descending like a feathery down. The - storm did not catch Mr. Shields unprepared; his vast herds were safe and - snug in their winter quarters. - </p> - <p> - The break in the weather marked the end of Roderick’s range riding - for the season. He was now a stock feeder and engaged in patching up the - corrals and otherwise playing his part of a ranch hand. And with this - stay-at-home life he found himself thinking more and more of the real - mission that had brought him into this land of mountains. Nearly every - night when his work was finished, he studied a certain map of the hills—the - inheritance left him by his father. On this map were noted “Sheep - Mountain,” “Bennet Peak,” “Hahn’s Peak” - and several other prominent landmarks. From his own acquaintance with the - country Roderick now knew that the lost valley was quite a distance to the - south and west from the Shields ranch. - </p> - <p> - Thus the wintry days wore on, and with their passing Roderick became more - and more firm in his determination to be ready, when the snow was gone in - the spring, to take up his father’s unfinished task of finding again - the sandbar abounding with nuggets of gold. Indeed in his life of - isolation it gradually came about that he thought of little else by day - and dreamed of nothing else at night. Sometimes in the solitude of his - room he smiled at his loneliness. What a change from the old college days—from - the stir and excitement of New York. During the winter he had been invited - to a score of gatherings, dances, and parties, but somehow he had become - taciturn and had declined all invitations. - </p> - <p> - Then, with stern self-control he had succeeded in putting out of mind the - mysterious beauty of the range. Love at first sight!—he had laughed - down such silliness, and rooted out of his heart the base treason that had - even for a fleeting moment permitted such a thought. Yes, there was - nothing but firmest loyalty in his mind for Stella Rain, who was waiting - for him so faithfully and patiently, and whose letters cheered him and - filled him with greater determination than ever to find the lost mine. - </p> - <p> - His labors on the ranch were arduous but his health was excellent. At - college he had been an athlete—now he was a rugged, bronzed-faced - son of the hills. His only recreations were laying plans for the future - and writing letters to Stella. - </p> - <p> - Not infrequently his mind wandered back to Keokuk, the old river town, and - his heart grew regretful that he had quarreled with his Unde Allen Miller, - and his thoughts were tender of his Aunt Lois. Once he wrote a letter to - Whitley Adams, then tore it up in a dissatisfied way, returning to the - determination to make his fortune before communicating with his old - friends. - </p> - <p> - And so the winter passed, and spring had come again. - </p> - <p> - It was one morning in early May, just after he had finished his chores, - when to his surprise Grant Jones shouted to him through the corral fence: - “Hello, old man, how is ranching agreeing with you, anyway?” - </p> - <p> - “Fine,” responded Roderick, “fine and dandy.” He - let himself through the gate of the corral and shook hands with Grant. - “Come up to the bunk house; seems mighty good to see you.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks,” responded Grant, as they walked along. “Do you - know, Warfield, I have been shut up over on the other side of the range - ever since that first big snow-storm? I paddled out on snowshoes only once - during the winter, and then walked over the tops of trees. Plenty of - places up on the Sierra Madre,” continued Grant, nodding his head to - the westward, “where the snow is still twenty to thirty feet deep. - If a fellow had ever broken through, why, of course, he would have been - lost until the spring.” - </p> - <p> - “Terrible to think about,” said Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s not all,” said Grant with his old exuberant - laugh. “It would have been so devilish long from a fellow’s - passing until his obituary came to be written. That is what gets on my - nerves when I’m out on snowshoes. Of course the columns of the <i>Doublejack</i> - are always open to write-ups on dead unfortunates, but it likes to have - ‘em as near as possible to the actual date of demise. Then it’s - live news.” - </p> - <p> - “Sounds rather grewsome,” said Roderick, smiling at Grant’s - oddity of expression. - </p> - <p> - Arriving at the bunk house, they were soon seated around a big stove where - a brisk fire was burning, for the air without was still sharp and the wind - cutting and cold. - </p> - <p> - “I can offer you a pipe and some mighty fine tobacco,” said - Roderick, pushing a tray toward him carrying a jar of tobacco and - half-a-dozen cob pipes. - </p> - <p> - “Smells good,” commented Grant, as he accepted and began to - fill one of the pipes. - </p> - <p> - “Well, tell me something about yourself, Grant. I supposed the - attraction over here at the ranch was quite enough to make you brave - snowstorms and snow-slides and thirty-foot snowdrifts.” - </p> - <p> - “Warfield,” said Grant, half seriously, between puffs at his - pipe, “that is what I want to talk with you about. The inducement is - sufficient for all you suggest. She is a wonder. Without any question, - Dorothy Shields is the sweetest girl that ever lived.” - </p> - <p> - “Hold on,” smiled Roderick. “There may be others in the - different parts of the world.” - </p> - <p> - “Is that so?” ejaculated Grant with a rising inflection, while - his countenance suggested an interrogation point. - </p> - <p> - “No, I have no confessions to make,” rejoined Roderick, as he - struck a match to light his pipe. - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s just what is troubling me,” said Grant, - still serious. “I was just wondering if anyone else had been - browsing on my range over here at the Shields ranch while I have been - penned up like a groundhog, getting out my weekly edition of the <i>Dillon - Doublejock</i>, sometimes only fifty papers at an issue. Think of it!” - And they both laughed at the ludicrous meagerness of such a circulation. - </p> - <p> - “But never mind,” continued Grant, reflectively, “I will - run my subscriptions up to three or four hundred in sixty days when the - snow is off the ground.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that is all very well, old man. But when will the snow be off? - I am considerably interested myself, for I want to do some prospecting.” - </p> - <p> - “Hang your prospecting,” said Grant, “or when the snow - will go either. You haven’t answered my question.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, as to whether anyone has been browsing on your range?” - exclaimed Roderick. “I must confess I do not know. They have had - dances and parties and all that sort of thing but—I really don’t - know, I have not felt in the mood and declined to attend. How do you find - the little queen of your heart? Has she forgotten you?” - </p> - <p> - “No-o,” responded Grant, slowly. “But dam it all, I can’t - talk very well before the whole family. I am an out-door man. You give me - the hills as a background and those millions of wild flowers that color - our valleys along in July like Joseph’s coat, and it makes me bubble - over with poetry and I can talk to beat a phonograph monologist.” - This was said in a jovial, joking tone, but beneath it all Roderick knew - there was much serious truth. - </p> - <p> - “How is it, Grant? Are you pretty badly hit?” - </p> - <p> - “Right square between the eyes, old man. Why, do you know, sitting - over in that rocky gorge of Dillon canyon in the little town of Dillon, - writing editorials for the Double jack month after month and no one to - read my paper, I have had time to think it all over, and I have made up my - mind to come here to the Shields ranch and tell Dorothy it is my firm - conviction that she is the greatest woman on top of the earth, and that - life to me without her is simply—well, I don’t have words to - describe the pitiful loneliness of it all without her.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick leaned back in his chair and laughed hilariously at his friend. - </p> - <p> - “This is no joking matter,” said Grant. “I’m a - goner.” - </p> - <p> - Just then there came a knock at the door and Roderick hastily arose to bid - welcome to the caller. To the surprise of both the visitor proved to be - Major Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton exchanged cordial greetings and expressed his great pleasure - at finding his two young friends together. Accepting the invitation to be - seated, he drew his meerschaum from his pocket and proceeded to fill from - a tobacco pouch made of deer skin. - </p> - <p> - “My dear Mr. Jones and’ Mr. Warfield,” he began, “where - have you been all through the winter?” - </p> - <p> - “For myself, right here doing chores about twelve hours per day,” - answered Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “As for me,” said Grant, “I have been way over ‘yonder’ - editing the <i>Dillon Doublejack.</i> I have fully a score of subscribers - who would have been heartbroken if I had missed a single issue. I - snow-shoed in to Encampment once, but your castle was locked and nobody - seemed to know where you had gone, Major.” - </p> - <p> - Jones had again laughed good-naturedly over the limited circulation of his - paper. Major Hampton smiled, while Roderick observed that there was - nothing like living in a literary atmosphere. - </p> - <p> - “If your circulation is small your persistence is certainly - commendable,” observed the Major, looking benignly at Jones but not - offering to explain his absence from Encampment when Jones had called. - “I have just paid my respects,” he went on, “to Mr. and - Mrs. Shields and their lovely daughters, and learned that you were also - visiting these hospitable people. My errand contemplated calling upon Mr. - Warfield as well. I almost feel I have been neglected. The latchstring - hangs on the outside of my door for Mr. War-field as well as for you, Mr. - Jones.” - </p> - <p> - “Many thanks,” observed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Your compliment is not unappreciated,” said Grant. “When - do you return to Encampment?” - </p> - <p> - “Immediately after luncheon,” replied the Major. - </p> - <p> - “Very well, I will go along with you,” said Grant. “I - came over on my skis.” - </p> - <p> - “It will be a pleasure for me to extend the hospitality of the - comfortable riding sled that brought me over,” responded the Major - with Chesterfieldian politeness. “Jim Rankin is one of the safest - drivers in the country and he has a fine spirited team, while the sledding - is simply magnificent.” - </p> - <p> - “Although the jingle of sleigh-bells always makes me homesick,” - remarked Roderick, “I’d feel mighty pleased to return with - you.” - </p> - <p> - “It will be your own fault, Mr. Warfield, if you do not accompany - us. I have just been talking to Mr. Shields, and he says you are the most - remarkable individual he has ever had on his ranch—a regular hermit - They never see you up at the house, and you have not been away from the - ranch for months, while the young ladies, Miss Barbara and Miss Dorothy, - think it perfectly horrid—to use their own expression—that you - never leave your quarters here or spend an evening with the family.” - </p> - <p> - “Roderick,” observed Grant, “I never thought you were a - stuck-up prig before, but now I know you for what you are. But there must - be an end to such exclusiveness. Let someone else do the chores. Get ready - and come on back to Encampment with us, and we’ll have a royal - evening together at the Major’s home.” - </p> - <p> - “Excellent idea,” responded the Major. “I have some - great secrets to impart—but I am not sure I will tell you one of - them,” he added with a good-natured smile. The others laughed at his - excess of caution. - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said Roderick, “if Mr. Shields can spare me - for a few days I’ll accept your invitation.” - </p> - <p> - At this moment the door was opened unceremoniously and in walked the two - Miss Shields. The men hastily arose and laid aside their pipes. - </p> - <p> - “We are here as messengers,” said Miss Dorothy, smiling. - “You, Mr. Warfield, are to come up to the house and have dinner with - us as well as the Major and Grant.” - </p> - <p> - “Glorious,” said Grant, smiling broadly. “Roderick, did - you hear that? She calls you Mr. Warfield and she calls me Grant. - Splendid, splendid!” - </p> - <p> - “I know somebody that will have their ears cuffed in a moment,” - observed Miss Dorothy. - </p> - <p> - “Again I ejaculate splendid!” said Grant in great hilarity, as - if daring her. - </p> - <p> - “It is a mystery to me,” observed the Major, “how two - such charming young ladies can remain so unappreciated.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Major,” protested Barbara, “we are not - unappreciated. Everybody thinks we are just fine.” - </p> - <p> - “Major,” observed Grant with great solemnity, “this is - an opportunity I have long wanted.” He cleared his throat, winked at - Roderick, made a sweeping glance at the young ladies and observed: “I - wanted to express my admiration, yes, I might say my affection for—” - </p> - <p> - Dorothy’s face was growing pink. She divined Grant’s ardent - feelings although he had spoken not one word of love to her. Lightly - springing to his side, she playfully but firmly placed her hands over his - mouth and turned whatever else he had to say into incoherency. - </p> - <p> - This ended Grant’s declaration. Even Major Buell Hampton smiled and - Roderick inquired: “Grant, what are you mumbling about?” - </p> - <p> - Dorothy dropped her hand. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, just trying to tell her to keep me muzzled forever,” - Grant smiled, and Dorothy’s cheeks were red with blushes. - </p> - <p> - With this final sally all started for the big ranch house where they found - that a sumptuous meal had been prepared. - </p> - <p> - During the repast Barbara learned of the proposed reunion of the three - friends at Encampment, and insisted that her father should give a few days’ - vacation to Mr. Warfield. The favor was quickly granted, and an hour later - Jim Rankin brought up his bob-sled and prancing team, and to the merry - sound of the sleigh-bells Major Buell Hampton and the two young men sped - away for Encampment. - </p> - <p> - It was arranged that Roderick and Grant should have an hour or two to - themselves and then call later in the evening on the Major. - </p> - <p> - Roderick was half irritated to find no letter at the post office from - Stella Rain. In point of fact, during the past two months, he had been - noticing longer and longer gaps in her correspondence. Sometimes he felt - his vanity touched and was inclined to be either angry or humiliated. But - at other times he just vaguely wondered whether his loved one was drifting - away from him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Grant Jones - and Roderick arrived at the Major’s home that evening they found - other visitors already installed before the cheerful blaze of the open - hearth. These were Tom Sun, owner of more sheep than any other man in the - state; Boney Earnest, the blast furnace man in the big smelting plant; and - Jim Rankin, who had joined his two old cronies after unharnessing the - horses from the sleigh. - </p> - <p> - Cordial introductions and greetings were exchanged. Although Roderick had - shaken hands before with Boney Earnest, this was their first meeting in a - social way. And it was the very first time he had encountered Tom Sun. - Therefore the fortuitous gathering of his father’s three old friends - came to him as a pleasant surprise. He was glad of the chance to get - better acquainted. - </p> - <p> - While the company were settling themselves in chairs around the fireplace, - Jim Rankin seized the moment for a private confabulation with Roderick. He - drew the young man into a corner and addressed him in a mysterious - whisper: “By gunnies, Mr. War-field, it sure is powerful good to - have yer back agin. It’s seemed a tarnation long winter. But you bet - I’ve been keepin’ my mind on things—our big secret—you - know.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick nodded and Rankin went on: “I’ve been prognosticatin’ - out this here way and then that way on a dozen trips after our - onderstandin’, searchin’ like fur that business; but dang my - buttons it’s pesterin’ hard to locate and don’t you - forgit it. Excuse us, gentlemen, we are talkin’ about certain - private matters but we don’t mean ter be impolite. I’m ‘lowin’ - it’s the biggest secret in these diggin’s—ain’t - that right, Roderick?” - </p> - <p> - Rankin laughed good-humoredly at his own remarks as he took out his - tobacco pouch of fine cut and stowed away a huge cud. “You bet yer - life,” he continued between vigorous chews, “somebody is - nachurlly going to be a heap flustrated ‘round here one of these - days, leastways that’s what we’re assoomin’.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, Jim,” observed Tom Sun, “what are you talkin’ - about anyway? Boney, I think Jim is just as crazy as ever.” - </p> - <p> - “I reckon that’s no lie,” responded Boney, - good-naturedly. “Always was as crazy as a March hare with a bone in - its throat.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, look here you fellows, yer gittin’ tumultuous,” - exclaimed Rankin, “you’re interferin’. Say, Major - Hampton, I’m not a dangnation bit peevish or nuthin’ like - that, but do you know who are the four biggest and most ponderous liars in - the state of Wyoming?” The Major looked up in surprise but did not - reply. “Waal,” said Rankin, expectorating toward the burning - logs in the open hearth and proceeding to answer his own question, “Boney - Earnest is sure one uv ‘em, I am one uv ‘em, and Tom Sun is - ‘tother two.” Rankin guffawed loudly. This brought forth quite - an expression of merriment The only reply from Tom Sun was that his thirty - odd years of association with Jim Rankin and Boney Earnest was quite - enough to make a prince of liars of anyone. - </p> - <p> - Presently the Major said: “Gentlemen, after taking a strict - inventory I find there are six men in the world for whom I entertain an - especial interest. Of course, my mission in life in a general way is in - behalf of humanity, but there are six who have come to be closer to me - than all the rest Five of them are before me. Of the other I will not - speak at this time. I invited you here this evening because you represent - in a large measure the things that I stand for. The snow will soon be - going, spring is approaching and great things will happen during the next - year—far greater than you dream of. You are friends of mine and I - have decided under certain restrictions to share with you an important - secret.” - </p> - <p> - Thereupon he pointed to some little sacks, until now unnoticed, that lay - on the center table. “Untie these sacks and empty the contents onto - the table if you will, Mr. Warfield.” Roderick complied. - </p> - <p> - Each sack held about a hatful of broken rock, and to the amazement of the - Major’s guests Roderick emptied out on the table the richest gold - ores that any of them had ever beheld. They were porphyry and white - quartz, shot full of pure gold and stringers of gold. Indeed the pieces of - quartz were seemingly held together with purest wire gold. - </p> - <p> - The natural query that was in the heart of everyone was soon given voice - by Jim Rankin. After scanning the remarkable exhibit he turned to Major - Buell Hampton and exclaimed: “Gosh ‘lmighty, Major, where did - this here come from?” - </p> - <p> - “A most natural question but one which I am not inclined to answer - at this time,” said the Major, smiling benignly. “Gentlemen, - it is my intention that everyone present shall share with me in a - substantial way in the remarkable discovery, the evidence of which is - lying before you. There are five of you and I enjoin upon each the most - solemn pledge of secrecy, even as regards the little you have yet learned - of the great secret which I possess.” - </p> - <p> - They all gave their pledges, and the Major went on: “There is enough - of these remarkably rich ores for everyone. But should the slightest - evidence come to me that anyone of you gentlemen has been so thoughtless, - or held the pledge you have just made so lightly, that you have shared - with any outsider the information so far given, his name will assuredly be - eliminated from this pact. Therefore, it is not only a question of honor - but a question of self-interest, and I feel sure the former carries with - it more potency with each of you than the latter.” - </p> - <p> - In the meantime Roderick was closely examining the samples of gold. - Instinctively he had put his hand to the inside pocket of his coat and - felt for his father’s map. He was wondering whether Buell Hampton - had come into possession of the identical piece of knowledge he himself - was searching for. Presently Jim Rankin whispered in his ear: “By - gunnies, Warfield, I guess the Major has beat us to it.” - </p> - <p> - But Roderick shook his head reassuringly. He remembered that his father’s - find was placer gold—water-worn nuggets taken from a sandbar in some - old channel, as the sample in Jim Rankin’s own possession showed. - The ores he was now holding were of quite a different class—they had - been broken from the living rock. - </p> - <p> - After the specimens had been returned to the sample sacks and the - excitement had quieted a little, Major Hampton threw his head back in his - own princely way, as he sat in his easy chair before the fire and - observed: “Money may be a blessing or it may be a curse. Personally - I shall regret the discovery if a single dollar of this wealth, which it - is in my power to bring to the light of day, should ever bring sorrow to - humanity. It is my opinion that the richest man in the world should not - possess more than a quarter of a million dollars at most, and even that - amount is liable to make a very poor citizen out of an otherwise good man. - Unnecessary wealth merely stimulates to abnormal or wicked extravagance. - It is also self-evident that a more equal distribution of wealth would - obtain if millionaires were unknown, and greater happiness would naturally - follow.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but the world requires ‘spenders’ as well as - getters,’”laughed Tom Sun. “Otherwise we would all be - dying of sheer weariness of each other.” - </p> - <p> - “Surely, there are arguments on both sides,” assented the - Major. “It is a difficult problem. I was merely contending that a - community of comparatively poor people who earn their bread by the sweat - of their brow—tilling the soil and possessed of high ideals of good - citizenship—such people beyond question afford the greatest example - of contentment, morality and happiness. Great wealth is the cause of some - of our worst types of degeneracy. However,” he concluded, knocking - the ashes from his pipe, “it is not my purpose this evening to - sermonize. Nor do I intend at present to say anything more about the rich - gold discovery I have made except to reiterate my assurance that at the - proper time all you gentlemen will be called on to share in the enterprise - and in its profits. Now I believe some of you”—and he looked - at Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest as he spoke—“have - another engagement tonight. It was only at my special request, Mr. - Warfield, that they remained to meet you and Mr. Jones.” - </p> - <p> - “And we’re much obliged to you, Major,” said Boney - Earnest, arising and glancing at his watch. “Hope old John Warfield’s - boy and I will get still better acquainted. But I’ve got to be going - now. You see my wife insisted that I bring the folks back early so that - she might have a visit with Mr. Rankin and Mr. Sun.” - </p> - <p> - Tom Sun shook hands cordially. - </p> - <p> - “Glad to have met you, Mr. Warfield,” he said, “for your - father’s sake as well as your own. I trust we’ll meet often. - Good-night, Mr. Jones.” - </p> - <p> - Rankin whispered something to Roderick, but Roderick did not catch the - words, and when he attempted to inquire the old fellow merely nodded his - head and said aloud: “You bet your life; I’m assoomin’ - this is jist ‘tween me and you.” Roderick smiled at this - oddity, as the man of mystery followed his friends from the room. - </p> - <p> - When the door closed and Roderick and Grant were alone with the Major, - pipes were again lighted, and a spell of silence fell upon the group—the - enjoyable silence of quiet companionship. The Major showed no disposition - to re-open the subject of the rich gold discovery, nor did Roderick feel - inclined to press for further information. As he mused, however, he became - more firmly convinced than before that his secret was still his own—that - Buell Hampton, in this rugged mountain region with its many undiscovered - storehouses of wealth, had tumbled on a different gold-bearing spot to - that located by Uncle Allen Miller and his father. Some day, perhaps, he - would show the Major the letter and the map. But to do this now might seem - like begging the favor of further confidences, so until these were - volunteered Roderick must pursue his own lonesome trail. The mere sight of - the gold, however, had quickened his pulse beats. To resume the humdrum - life at the ranch seemed intolerable. He longed to be out on the hills - with his favorite pony Badger, searching every nook and corner for the - hidden treasure. - </p> - <p> - Presently Buell Hampton arose and laid his pipe aside, and going to a - curtained corner of the room returned with his violin. And long into the - night, with only a fitful light from the burning logs in the open - fireplace, the Major played for his young friends. It seemed his - repertoire was without beginning and without end. As he played his moods - underwent many changes. Now he was gay and happy, at another moment sad - and wistful. He passed from sweet low measures into wild, thrilling - abandonment. Now he was drawing divine harmony from the strings by dainty - caresses, again he was almost brutally compelling them to render forth the - fierce passion of music that was surging in his own soul. The performance - held the listeners spellbound—left them for the moment speechless - when at last the player dropped into a chair. The instrument was laid - across his knees; he was still fondling it with gentle touches and taps - from his long slender fingers. - </p> - <p> - “You love your violin, Major,” Roderick at last managed to - articulate. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” came the low-spoken fervent reply, “every crease, - crevice and string of the dear old Cremona that was given me more than - half a century ago.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish,” said Grant, “that I could express my - appreciation of the wonderful entertainment you have given us tonight.” - </p> - <p> - “You are very complimentary,” replied the Major, bestirring - himself. He rose, laid the violin on the table, and brightened up the fire - with additional fuel. - </p> - <p> - “But I’m afraid we must be going,” added Grant. “It - is getting late.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have a message for you young gentlemen,” said the - Major. “You are invited to attend one of the most distinguished - soirees ever given in the Platte River Valley. Mr. and Mrs. Shields - mentioned this today, and made me the special messenger to extend the - invitation to you both.” - </p> - <p> - “Splendid,” exclaimed Grant. “When does this come off?” - </p> - <p> - “Two weeks from this evening,” replied the Major. “And - we will have a comparative newcomer to the valley to grace the occasion. - She has been here through the late fall and winter, but has been too busy - nursing her sick and bereaved old father to go out into society.” - </p> - <p> - “General Holden’s daughter?” queried Grant. - </p> - <p> - “The same. And Gail Holden is certainly a most beautiful young lady. - Have you seen her, Mr. War-field?” - </p> - <p> - “Not that I’m aware of,” replied Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “A most noble young woman, too,” continued the Major. “They - are Illinois people. The mother died last year under sad circumstances—all - the family fortune swept away. But the girl chanced to own these Wyoming - acres in her own right, so she brought her father here, and has started a - little cattle ranch, going in for pedigreed dairy stock and likely to do - well too, make no mistake. You should just see her swing a lariat,” - the speaker added with a ring of admiration in his tone. - </p> - <p> - Roderick started. Great Scott! could this be the fair horsewoman he had - encountered on the mountain side just before the coming of the big snow. - But a vigorous slap on his shoulder administered by Grant broke him from - reverie. - </p> - <p> - “Why don’t you say something, old fellow? Isn’t this - glorious news? Are you not delighted at the opportunity of tripping the - light fantastic toe with a beauty from Illinois as well as our own - home-grown Wyoming belles?” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” replied Roderick slowly, “I have not been - attending any of these affairs, although I may do so in this instance.” - </p> - <p> - “Miss Barbara Shields,” said the Major, “especially - requested me to tell you, Mr. Warfield, that she positively insists on - your being present.” - </p> - <p> - “Ho, ho!” laughed Grant. “So you’ve made a hit in - that quarter, eh, Roderick? Well, better a prospective brother-in-law than - a dangerous rival. Dorothy’s mine, and don’t you forget it.” - </p> - <p> - Grant’s boyish hilarity was contagious, his gay audacity amusing. - Even the Major laughed heartily. But Roderick was blushing furiously. A - moment before he had been thinking of one fair charmer. And now here was - another being thrown at him, so to speak, although in jest and not in - earnest. Barbara Shields—he had never dared to think of her as - within his reach even had not loyalty bound his affections elsewhere. But - the complications seemed certainly to be thickening. - </p> - <p> - “Come along, old chap,” said Grant, as they gained the - roadway. “We’ll have a look through the town, just to see if - there’s any news about.” - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE Bazaar was a - popular resort. The proprietor was known as “Southpaw.” - Doubtless he had another name but it was not known in the mining camp. - Even his bank account was carried in the name of “Southpaw.” - </p> - <p> - When Roderick and Grant entered the saloon they found a motley crowd at - the bar and in the gaming room, fully twenty cowboys with their - broad-rimmed sombreros, wearing hairy chaps, decorated with fancy belts - and red handkerchiefs carelessly tied about their necks. Evidently one of - them had just won at the wheel and they were celebrating. - </p> - <p> - The brilliant lights and the commingling of half a hundred miners and many - cowboys presented a spectacular appearance that was both novel and - interesting. Just behind them came shuffling into the room a short, stout, - heavily-built man with a scowling face covered with a short growth of - black whiskers. His eyes were small and squinty, his forehead low and his - chin protruding. - </p> - <p> - Roderick and Grant were standing at the end of the bar, waiting for - lemonades they had ordered. Roderick’s attention was attracted by - the uncouth newcomer. - </p> - <p> - “Grant, who is that gorilla-looking chap?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - Grant half turned with a sweeping glance and then looking back at - Roderick, replied: “That is Bud Bledsoe. He is a sort of sleuth for - Grady, the manager of the smelting plant, the man I introduced you to, - remember, the first day you came to Encampment.” - </p> - <p> - “I remember Grady all right,” nodded Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well, many people believe he keeps Bledsoe around him to do his - dirty work. A while ago there was a grave suspicion that this chap - committed a terrible crime, doubtless inspired by Grady, but it is not - known positively and of course Grady is all-powerful and nothing was said - about it outright.” - </p> - <p> - In the meantime Bud Bledsoe walked into the back part of the room, and - finding a vacant seat at a gaming table bought a stack of chips and was - soon busy over his cards. Presently the two friends, having lighted fresh - cigars, left the saloon. - </p> - <p> - Grant looked into two or three other places, but finding there was “nothing - doing,” no news of any kind stirring, at last turned for home. - Entering the familiar old bachelor shack, Roderick too felt at home, and - it was not long before a cheerful fire was kindled and going. Grant was - leaning an elbow on the mantel above and talking to Roderick of the - pleasure he anticipated at the coming dance over at the Shields place. - </p> - <p> - “I wonder what Miss Barbara meant when she sent that special message - to you, Roderick? Have you a ground wire of some kind with the young lady - and are you on more intimate relations than I have been led to believe?” - </p> - <p> - Grant smiled broadly at Roderick as he asked the question. - </p> - <p> - “Search me,” replied Roderick. “I have never spoken to - her excepting in the presence of other people.” - </p> - <p> - “I presume you know,” Grant went on, “that she is the - object of Carlisle’s affections and he gets awfully jealous if - anyone pays court to her?” - </p> - <p> - “And who’s Carlisle?” asked Roderick, looking up - quickly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he is the great lawyer,” replied Grant “W. Henry - Carlisle. Have you never heard of the feud between Carlisle and Attorney - Bragdon?” - </p> - <p> - “No,” said Roderick. “Both names are new to me.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I supposed everybody knew about their forensic battles. You - see, W. Henry Carlisle is the attorney for the Smelter and Ben Bragdon is - without doubt the most eloquent young lawyer that ever stood before a jury - in southern Wyoming. These two fellows are usually against each other in - all big lawsuits in these parts of the country, and you should see the - courthouse fill up when there is a jury trial.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick did not seem especially interested, and throwing his cigar stub - into the open fire, he filled his pipe. “Now, I’ll have a real - smoke,” he observed as he pressed a glowing firestick from the - hearth down on the tobacco. - </p> - <p> - “Grady and Carlisle are together in all financial ventures,” - Grant continued. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t look as if you are very fond of this man Grady,” - commented Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Fond of him?” ejaculated Grant in disgust; “he is the - most obnoxious creature in the district. He treats everybody who is - working for him as if they were dogs. He has this bruiser, Bud Bledsoe, as - a sort of bodyguard and this W. Henry Carlisle as a legal protector, so he - attempts to walk rough shod over everybody—indifferent and insolent. - Oh, let’s not talk about Grady. I become indecently indignant - whenever I think of his outrages against some of the poor fellows in this - camp.” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Roderick, jovially looking up; “let us - talk about the dance and especially Miss Dorothy.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s the text,” said Grant, “Dorothy—Dorothy - Shields-Jones. Won’t that make a corker of a name though? If I tell - you a secret will you promise it shall be sacred?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly,” replied Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Grant, reddening, “while I was over there - at the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> office, isolated from the world, - surrounded with mountains and snow—nothing but snow and snowbanks - and high mountains in every direction, why, I played job printer and set - up some cards with a name thereon—can’t you guess?” - </p> - <p> - “Impossible,” said Roderick, smiling broadly. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mrs. Dorothy Shields-Jones,” he repeated slowly, then - laughed uproariously at the confession. - </p> - <p> - “Let me see one of the cards,” asked Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, I only kept the proof I pulled before pieing the type, and - that I have since torn up. But just wait That girl’s destiny is - marked out for her,” continued Grant, enthusiastically, “and - believe me, Warfield, I shall make her life a happy one.” - </p> - <p> - “Hope you’ve convinced her of that, old man?” - </p> - <p> - “Convinced her! Why I haven’t had the courage yet to say a - word,” replied Grant, somewhat shamefacedly. “I’m going - to rely on you to speak up for me when the critical moment arrives.” - </p> - <p> - “It was rather premature, certainly, to print the lady’s - double-barreled-name visiting card,” laughed Roderick. “But - there, you know I’m with you and for you all the time.” And he - extended the hand of brotherly comradeship. - </p> - <p> - “And about you and Barbara?” ventured Grant, tentatively. - “I’ve heard your name mentioned in connection with hers - several times.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, forget all that rot,” responded Roderick, flushing - slightly. He had never mentioned the “college widow” to his - friend, and felt that he was sailing under false colors. “It will be - a long time before I can think of such matters,” he went on, turning - toward his accustomed stretcher. “Let’s get to bed. It has - been a long day, and I for one am tired.” - </p> - <p> - A few minutes later lights were out. - </p> - <p> - When they got up next morning, they found that a letter had been pushed - under the door. Warfield picked it up and read the scrawled inscription. - It was addressed to Grant. - </p> - <p> - “Gee,” said Grant as he took the letter from Roderick, “this - town is forging ahead mighty fast. Free delivery. Who in the demnition - bowwows do you suppose could have done this?” - </p> - <p> - Opening the envelope he spread the letter on the table, and both bent - above it to read its contents. There was just a couple of lines, in - printed characters. - </p> - <p> - Words had been cut out of a newspaper apparently, and stuck on the white - sheet of paper. They read as follows: <i>“Tell your friend to let - Barbara alone or his hide will be shot full of holes.”</i> - </p> - <p> - Grant and Roderick stood looking at each other, speechless with amazement. - Barbara was the only written word. - </p> - <p> - “What can be the meaning of this?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Beyond me,” replied Grant. “Evidently others besides - myself have come to think you are interested in Barbara Shields. Possibly - the young lady has been saying nice things about you, and somebody is - jealous.” - </p> - <p> - “Rank foolishness,” exclaimed Roderick hotly. Then he laughed, - as he added: “However, if the young lady interested me before she - becomes all the more interesting now. But let the incident drop. We shall - see what we shall see.” - </p> - <p> - They walked up the street to a restaurant and breakfasted. - </p> - <p> - “It might be,” remarked Grant, referring back to the strange - letter, “that Attorney Carlisle, who they say is daffy over Barbara - Shields, has had that sleuth of Grady’s, Bud Bledsoe, fix up this - letter to sort of scare you off.” - </p> - <p> - Grant laughed good-humoredly as he said this. - </p> - <p> - “Scare me off like hell,” said Roderick in disgust. “I - am not easily scared with anonymous letters. Only cowards write that sort - of stuff.” - </p> - <p> - They arose from the table and turned down the street towards the smelting - plant It was necessary to keep well on the sidewalks and away from the mud - in the roadway, for the weather was turning warm and snow was melting very - fast. - </p> - <p> - “There will be no sleighs and sleigh-bells at the Shields’ - entertainment,” observed Grant. “This snow in the lowlands - will all be gone in a day or two.” - </p> - <p> - They paused on a street corner and noticed five logging outfits swinging - slowly down the street, then turn into the back yard of Buell Hampton’s - home and begin unloading. - </p> - <p> - “What do you suppose Major Hampton can want with all those logs?” - asked Grant. - </p> - <p> - “Let us make a morning call on the Major,” suggested Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Right you are,” assented Grant. - </p> - <p> - The Major extended his usual hearty welcome. He had evidently been busy at - his writing table. - </p> - <p> - “We came down,” said Grant, “to get a job cutting wood.” - </p> - <p> - The Major looked out of the window at the great stack of logs and smiled. - “No, young gentlemen,” he said, “those logs are not for - firewood but to build an addition to my humble home. You see, I have a - small kitchen curtained off in the rear, and back of that I intend putting - in an extra room. I expect to have ample use for this additional - accommodation, but just at this time perhaps will not explain its - purposes. Won’t you be seated?” - </p> - <p> - They pulled up chairs before the fire, which was smouldering low, for in - the moderated condition of the weather a larger fire was not needed. - </p> - <p> - “Only for a moment, Major. We do not wish to take you from your - work, whatever it may be. I will confess,” Grant went on, smiling, - “that we were curious to know about the logs, and decided we would - look in on you and satisfy our curiosity; and then, too, we have the - pleasure of saying hello.” - </p> - <p> - “Very kind of you, very kind, I am sure,” responded the Major; - and turning to Roderick he inquired when he expected to return to the - Shields ranch. - </p> - <p> - “I am going out this afternoon,” replied Roderick. “By - the way, Major, do you expect to be at the Shields’ entertainment?” - </p> - <p> - “No, it is hardly probable. I am very busy and then, too, I am far - past the years when such functions interest. Nevertheless, I can well - understand how two young gentlemen like yourselves will thoroughly enjoy - an entertainment given by such hospitable people as the Shields.” - </p> - <p> - Soon after they took their leave and walked up the street. Grant made - arrangements to start directly after luncheon for Dillon, where copy had - to be got ready for the next issue of his paper. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick rode slowly across the valley that afternoon, his mind dwelt - on the rich gold discovery made by Buell Hampton, and he evolved plans for - getting promptly to serious prospecting work on his own account. Sometimes - too he caught himself thinking of the strange girl of the hills who could - throw a lasso so cleanly and cleverly; he wondered if their paths would - ever cross again. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE night of the - big fiesta at the Shields ranch had arrived, and the invited guests had - gathered from far and near. And what a bevy of pretty girls and gay young - fellows they were! Even the cowboys on this occasion were faultless Beau - Brummels; chaps, belts, and other frontier regalia were laid aside in - favor of the starched shirtfront and dress clothes of the fashionable - East. The entertainment was to consist of dancing and song, with a - sumptuous supper about the midnight hour. - </p> - <p> - Roderick of course was there—“by command” of the fair - daughter of the house, Barbara Shields. At the entrance to the reception - hall the twin sisters gave him cordial welcome, and gaily rallied him on - having at last emerged from his anchorite cell. On passing into the - crowded room, young Warfield had one of the greatest surprises of his - life. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, Roderick, old scout, how are you anyway?” - </p> - <p> - Someone had slapped him on the shoulder, and on turning round he found - himself face to face with Whitley Adams. - </p> - <p> - “Whitley, old man!” he gasped in sheer astonishment. - </p> - <p> - Then followed hand-shaking such as only two old college chums can engage - in after a long separation. - </p> - <p> - “How did it all happen?” inquired Roderick, when the first - flush of meeting was over. - </p> - <p> - “Tell you later,” said Whitley. “Gee, old man, I ought - to beat you up for not letting me know all this time where you were.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have been so confoundedly busy,” was the - half-apologetic reply. - </p> - <p> - “And so have I myself. I am taking a post-graduate course just now - in being busy. You would never guess what a man of affairs I’ve come - to be.” - </p> - <p> - “You certainly surprise me,” laughed Roderick drily. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, but I’m going to take your breath away. Since you’ve - gone, I’ve become quite chummy with your Uncle Allen.” - </p> - <p> - “You don’t say?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, siree. I think he took to me first of all in the hope that - through me he would get news of the lost prodigal—the son of his - adoption whose absence he is never tired of deploring.” - </p> - <p> - “Poor old uncle,” murmured Roderick, affectionately and - regretfully. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he takes all the blame to himself for having driven you away - from home. But here—let’s get into this quiet corner, man. You - haven’t yet heard half my news.” - </p> - <p> - The two chums were soon installed on a seat conveniently masked—for - other purposes, no doubt—by pot plants and flowers. - </p> - <p> - “And how’s dear Aunt Lois?” asked Roderick, as they - settled themselves. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dear Aunt Lois can wait,” replied Whitley. - </p> - <p> - “She’s all right—don’t look a day older since I - remember her. It is <i>I</i> who am the topic of importance—<i>I</i>”—and - he tapped his chest in the fervency of his egoism. - </p> - <p> - “Well, fire away,” laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - Whitley rambled on: “Well, I was just going to tell you how your - uncle and I have been pulling along together fine. After stopping me in - the street two or three times to ask me whether I had yet got news of you, - he ended in offering me a position in the bank.” - </p> - <p> - “Gee whizz!” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t look so demed superior. Why, man alive. I’m a - born banker—a born man of affairs! So at least your uncle tells me - in the intervals of asking after you.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, you’ve certainly taken my breath away. But how come you - to be in Encampment, Whitley?” - </p> - <p> - “On business, of course—important business, you bet, or I - wouldn’t have been spared from the office. Oh, I’ll tell <i>you</i>—you’re - a member of the firm, or will be some day, which is all the same thing. - There’s a fellow here, W. B. Grady, wanting a big loan on some - smelter bonds.” - </p> - <p> - “I know the man. But I thought he was rolling in money.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it’s just the fellows who are rolling in money who need - ready money worst,” smiled the embryonic banker with a shrewd - twinkle in his eyes. “He’s a big speculator on the outside, - make no mistake, even though he may be a staid and stolid business man - here. Well, he needs hard cash just at present, and the proposed loan came - the way of our bank. Your uncle jumped at it.” - </p> - <p> - “Security must be pretty good,” laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “No doubt. But there’s another reason this time for your uncle’s - financial alacrity. Seems an old friend of his was swindled out of the - identical block of bonds offered by this same Grady, and your uncle sees a - possible chance some day of getting them out of his clutches and restoring - them to where they properly belong.” - </p> - <p> - “But all that’s contrary to one of Uncle Allen’s most - cherished principles—that friendship and business don’t mix. I’ve - heard him utter that formula a score of times.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, cherished principles or no cherished principles, he seems - downright determined this time to let friendship play a hand. He tells me—oh, - I’m quite in his confidence, you see—that it’s a matter - of personal pride for him to try and win back his fortune for this old - friend, General Holden—that’s the name.” - </p> - <p> - “Holden?—Holden?” murmured Roderick. He seemed to have - heard the name before, but could not for the moment locate its owner. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, General Holden. He’s ranching up here for the present—or - rather his daughter is. They say she’s a stunning girl, and my - lawyer friend Ben Bragdon has promised to introduce me. Oh, though I’m - a man of affairs, old chap, I’ve an eye for a pretty girl too, all - the time. And I’m told she’s a top-notcher in the beauty line, - this Gail Holden.” - </p> - <p> - “Gail Holden!” Roderick repeated the name out loud, as he - started erect in his seat. He knew who the father was now—the - daughter was no other than the mysterious rider of the range. - </p> - <p> - Whitley’s face wore a quizzical look. - </p> - <p> - “Hello! you know her then, old chap?” - </p> - <p> - “I never met her—at least I have never been introduced to her.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s good hearing. Then we’ll start level tonight. Of - course I’ll cut you out in the long run if she proves to be just my - style.” - </p> - <p> - “Go ahead,” smiled Roderick. He had already recovered his - self-possession. “But you haven’t informed me yet how you come - to know Ben Bragdon, our cleverest young lawyer here, I’ve been - told, and likely enough to get the Republican nomination for state - senator.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, simple enough. I’ve come up to investigate one technical - point in regard to those smelter bonds. Well, Ben Bragdon, your political - big gun, happens to be your uncle’s legal adviser in Wyoming.” - </p> - <p> - “Which reminds me,” interposed Roderick earnestly, “that - you are not to give away my whereabout, Whitley—just yet.” - </p> - <p> - “A bit rough on the old uncle not to tell him where you are—or - at least let him know that you are safe and well. He loves you dearly, - Rod, my boy.” - </p> - <p> - “And I love him—yes, I’ll admit it, I love him dearly, - and Aunt Lois too. But this is a matter of personal pride, Whitley. You - spoke a moment ago of Uncle Allen’s personal pride. Well, I’ve - got mine too, and that day of my last visit to Keokuk, when he told me - that not one dollar of his fortune would ever be mine unless I agreed to - certain abominable conditions he chose to lay down, I on my side resolved - that I would show him I could win a fortune from the world by my own - unaided efforts. And that’s what I’m going to do, Whitley; - make no mistake. I don’t want him to butt in and interfere in any - way. I am going to play this game absolutely alone, and luckily my name - gives no clue to the lawyer Ben Bragdon or anyone else here of my - relationship with the rich banker of Keokuk, Allen Miller.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course, Rod, whatever you say goes. But all the same there can - be no harm in my relieving your uncle’s mind by at least telling him - that I’ve heard from you—that you are in good health, and all - that sort of thing. But you bet I won’t let out where you are or - what you are doing. Oh, I’ll go up in the old chap’s - estimation by holding on tight to such a secret. To be absolutely - immovable when it would be a breach of confidence to be otherwise is part - of a successful young banker’s moral make-up, you understand.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick laughed, his obduracy broken down by the other’s gay - insistence. - </p> - <p> - “All right, old fellow, we’ll let it go at that But as to my - being in Wyoming, remember dead secrecy’s the word. Shake hands on - that; my faith in such a talented and discreet young banker is implicit. - But now we must join the others or they’ll be thinking us rather - rude.” - </p> - <p> - “That—or the dear girls may be fretting out their hearts on my - account. A rich young banker from Iowa doesn’t blow into Encampment - every day, you know.” And Whitley Adams laughed with all the buoyant - pride of youth, good looks, good health, and good spirits. “Come - along, dear boy,” he went on, linking his hand in Roderick’s - arm. “We’ll find Lawyer Bragdon, get our introductions, and - start fair with the beauteous chatelaine of the cattle range.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick had heard about Ben Bragdon from Grant Jones, but had not as yet - happened to meet the brilliant young attorney who was fast becoming a - political factor in the state of Wyoming. So it fell to the chance visitor - to the town, Whitley Adams, to make these two townsmen acquainted. Bragdon - shook Roderick’s hand with all the cordiality and geniality of a - born “mixer” and far-seeing politician. But Whitley cut out - all talk and unblushingly demanded that he and his friend should be - presented without further delay to General Holden’s daughter. - </p> - <p> - They found her in company with Barbara Shields who, her duties of - receiving over, was now mingling with her guests. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Holden, let me present you to Mr. Roderick Warfield.” - The introducer was Ben Bragdon. - </p> - <p> - “One of papa’s favorite boys,” added Barbara kindly, - “and one of our best riders on the range.” - </p> - <p> - “As I happen to know,” said Gail Holden; and with a frank - smile of recognition she extended her hand. “We have already met in - the hills.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick was blushing. “Yes,” he laughed nervously. “I - was stupid enough to offer to help you with a young steer. But I didn’t - know then I was addressing such a famous horsewoman and expert with the - lariat.” - </p> - <p> - Gail Holden smiled, pleasedly but composedly. She possessed that peculiar - modesty of dignified reserve which challenges the respect of men. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you would have no doubt done a great deal better than I did,” - she replied graciously. - </p> - <p> - But Whitley Adams had administered a kick to Roderick’s heel, and - was now pushing him aside with a muttered: “You never told me you - had this flying start, you cunning dog. But it’s my turn now.” - And he placed himself before Miss Holden, and was duly presented by - Bragdon. - </p> - <p> - A moment later Whitley was engaging Gail in a sprightly conversation. - Roderick turned to Barbara, only to find her appropriated by Ben Bragdon. - And Barbara seemed mightily pleased with the young lawyer’s - attentions—she was smiling, and her eyes were sparkling, as she - listened to some anecdote he was telling. Roderick began to feel kind of - lonesome. If there was going to be anyone “shot full of holes” - because of attentions to the fair Miss Barbara, he was evidently not the - man. He had said to Grant Jones that any association of his name with hers - was “rank foolishness,” and humbly felt now the absolute - truthfulness of the remark. He began to look around for Grant—he - felt he was no ladies’ man, that he was out of his element in such a - gathering. There were many strange faces; he knew only a few of those - present. - </p> - <p> - But his roving glance again lighted and lingered on Gail Holden. Yes, she - was beautiful, indeed, both in features and in figure. Tall, willowy, - stately, obviously an athlete, with a North of Ireland suggestion in her - dark fluffy hair and sapphire blue eyes and pink-rose cheeks. He had seen - her riding the range, a study in brown serge with a big sombrero on her - head, and he saw her now in the daintiest of evening costumes, a deep - collar of old lace around her fair rounded neck, a few sprigs of lily of - the valley in her corsage, a filigree silver buckle at the belt that - embraced her lissom form. And as he gazed on this beauty of the hills, - this splendid type of womanhood, there came back to him in memory the - wistful little face—yes, by comparison the somewhat worn and faded - face—of the “college widow” to whom his troth was - plighted, for whom he had been fighting and was fighting now the battle of - life, the prize of true love he was going to take back proudly to Uncle - Allen Miller along with the fortune he was to win with his own brain and - hands. - </p> - <p> - “By gad, it’s more than three weeks since Stella wrote to me,” - he said to himself, angrily. Somehow he was glad to feel angry—relieved - in mind to find even a meagre pitiful excuse for the disloyal comparison - that had forced itself upon his mind. - </p> - <p> - But at this moment the music struck up, there was a general movement, and - he found himself next to Dorothy Shields. Whitley had already sailed away - with Miss Holden. - </p> - <p> - “Where is Grant?” asked Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Not yet arrived,” replied Dorothy. “He warned me that - he would be late.” - </p> - <p> - “Then perhaps I may have the privilege of the first waltz, as his - best friend.” - </p> - <p> - “Or for your own sake,” she laughed, as she placed her hand on - his shoulder. - </p> - <p> - Soon they were in the mazy whirl. When the dance was ended Dorothy, taking - his arm, indicated that she wished him to meet some people in another part - of the room. After one or two introductions to young ladies, she turned to - a rather heavy set, affable-looking gentleman and said: “Mr. - Warfield, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Carlisle—Mr. Carlisle, - Mr. Warfield.” - </p> - <p> - The men shook hands and looked into each other’s eyes. Roderick - remembered this was the attorney of the smelting plant, and Carlisle - remembered this was the young gentleman of whom the Shields sisters had so - often spoken in complimentary terms. W. Henry Carlisle was a man perhaps - forty years old. He was not only learned in the law, but one could not - talk with him long without knowing he was purposeful and determined and in - any sort of a contest worthy of his foeman’s steel. - </p> - <p> - Later Roderick danced with Barbara, and when he had handed her over to the - next claimant on her card was again accosted by Ben Bragdon. He had liked - the young attorney from the first, and together they retired for a - cigarette in the smoking room. - </p> - <p> - “I saw you were introduced to that fellow Carlisle,” began - Bragdon. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick, smiling, for he already knew of the - professional feud between the two men. - </p> - <p> - “Well, let me say something to you,” Bragdon continued. - “You look to me like a man that is worth while, and I take the - opportunity of telling you to let him alone. Carlisle is no good. Outside - of law business and the law courts I would not speak to him if he were the - last man on earth.” - </p> - <p> - “Why,” said Roderick, “you are pronounced in your views - to say the least.” - </p> - <p> - Bragdon turned to Roderick and for a moment was silent. Then he asked: - “What are you, a Republican or a Democrat?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I am a Republican.” - </p> - <p> - “Shake,” said Bragdon, and they clasped hands without Roderick - hardly understanding why. “Let me tell you something else,” - Bragdon went on. “Carlisle claims to be a Republican but I believe - he is a Democrat. He don’t look like a Republican to me. He looks - like a regular secessionist Democrat and there is going to be a contest - this fall for the nomination for state senator. W B. Grady and the whole - smelting outfit are going to back this man Carlisle and I am going to beat - him. And say—old man—” he smiled at Roderick when he - said this and slapped him on the shoulder familiarly—“I want - you on my side.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Roderick, half embarrassed and hesitatingly, - “I guess I am getting into politics pretty lively among other - things. I don’t see at this moment why I should not be on your side.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, come and see me at my office over at Encampment and we will - talk this matter over.” And so it was agreed. - </p> - <p> - Just then they heard singing, so they threw their cigarettes away and went - back to the ballroom. A quartet of voices accompanied on the piano by Gail - Holden were giving a selection from the Bohemian Girl. Whitley Adams was - hovering near Miss Holden, and insisted on turning the music At the close - of the number Whitley requested that Mr. Warfield should sing. Everyone - joined in the invitation; it was a surprise to his western friends that he - was musical. Reluctantly Roderick complied, and proving himself possessed - of a splendid baritone voice, delighted everyone by singing “Forgotten” - and one or two other old-time melodies. Among many others, Dorothy, - Barbara, and Grant Jones, who had now put in an appearance, overwhelmed - him with congratulations. Gail Holden, too, who had been his accompanist, - quietly but none the less warmly, complimented him. - </p> - <p> - Then Gail herself was prevailed upon to sing. As she resumed her seat at - the piano, she glanced at Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know ‘The Rosary’.” she asked in a low - voice unheard by the others. - </p> - <p> - “One of my favorites,” he answered. - </p> - <p> - “Then will you help me with a second?” she added, as she - spread open the sheet of music. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be honored,” he responded, taking his place by her - side. - </p> - <p> - Her rich contralto voice swelled forth like the sweeping fullness of a - distant church organ, and Roderick softly and sweetly blended his tones - with hers. Under the player’s magic touch the piano with its deep - resonant chords added to the perfect harmony of the two voices. The - interpretation was wonderful; the listeners were spellbound, and there - followed an interval of tense stillness after the last whispered notes had - died away. - </p> - <p> - As Gail rose and stood before him, she looked into Roderick’s eyes. - Her cheeks were flushed, she was enveloped in the mystery of song, carried - away by music’s subtle power. Roderick too was exalted. - </p> - <p> - “Superb,” he murmured ecstatically. - </p> - <p> - “Thanks to you,” she replied in a low voice and with a little - bow. - </p> - <p> - Then the buzz of congratulations was all around them. During that brief - moment, even in the crowded ballroom they had been alone—soul had - spoken to soul. But now the tension was relaxed. Gail was laughing - merrily. Whitley Adams was punching Roderick in the ribs. - </p> - <p> - “Say, old man, that’s taking another mean advantage.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean?” asked Roderick, recovering his composure. - </p> - <p> - “Singing duets like that isn’t toeing the line. The start was - to be a fair one, but you’re laps ahead already.” Whitley was - looking with comical dolefulness in the direction of Gail Holden. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I catch your drift,” laughed Roderick. “Well, you - brought the trouble on yourself, my boy. It was you who gave me away by - declaring I could sing.” - </p> - <p> - “Which shows the folly of paying a false compliment,” retorted - Whitley. “However, I’m going to get another dance anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - He made a step toward Gail, but Roderick laid a detaining hand on his - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Not just yet; the next is mine.” And with audacity that - amazed himself Roderick advanced to Gail, bowed, and offered his arm. The - soft strains of a dreamy waltz had just begun. - </p> - <p> - Without a word she accepted his invitation, and together they floated away - among the maze of dancers. - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s going some,” murmured Whitley, as he - glanced around in quest of consolation. Dorothy Shields appeared to be - monopolized by Grant Jones, but the two lawyers, Eragdon and Carlisle, - were glowering at each other, as if in defiance as to which should carry - off Barbara. So Whitley solved the problem by sailing in and appropriating - her for himself. He was happy, she seemed pleased, and the rivals, turning - away from each other, had the cold consolation that neither had profited - by the other’s momentary hesitation. - </p> - <p> - After the first few rounds Roderick opened a conversation with his - partner. He felicitated her upon her playing and singing. She thanked him - and said: “Most heartily can I return the compliment.” He - bowed his acknowledgment. - </p> - <p> - “You must come to Conchshell ranch and call on my father. He will be - glad to meet you—has been an invalid all the winter, but I’m - thankful he is better now.” - </p> - <p> - “I’ll be honored and delighted to make his acquaintance,” - replied Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Then perhaps we can have some more singing together,” she - went on. - </p> - <p> - “Which will be a great pleasure to me,” he interjected - fervently. - </p> - <p> - “And to me,” she said, smiling. - </p> - <p> - Whether listening or speaking there was something infinitely charming - about Gail Holden. When conversing her beautiful teeth reminded one of a - cupid’s mouth full of pearls. - </p> - <p> - “It has been some time,” explained Roderick, “since I - was over your way.” - </p> - <p> - For a moment their eyes met and she mischievously replied; - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes. Next time, I’ll not only sing for you, but if you - wish I will teach you how to throw the lariat.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t presume,” replied Roderick banteringly, “you - will guarantee what I might catch even if I turned out to be an expert?” - </p> - <p> - “That,” Gail quickly rejoined, “rests entirely with your - own cleverness.” - </p> - <p> - Just then it was announced from the dining room that the tables with the - evening collation were spread, and as Roderick was about to offer his arm - to Miss Holden, Barbara came hurriedly up, flushed and saying: “Oh, - Gail, here is Mr. Carlisle who wants to take you to supper. And Mr. - Warfield, you are to escort me.” She smiled triumphantly up into his - face as she took his arm. - </p> - <p> - As they walked away together and Barbara was vivaciously talking to him, - he wondered what it all meant Everybody seemed to be playing at cross - purposes. Again he thought of the letter of warning pushed under Grant - Jones’ door and mentally speculated how it would all end. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS the morning - following the big entertainment at the Shields ranch when Roderick and two - other cowboy companions began the work of breaking some outlaw horses to - the saddle. The corral where they were confined was a quarter of a mile - away from the bunk house. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones had remained overnight, ostensibly to pay Roderick a visit - during the succeeding day. He was still sound asleep when Roderick arose - at an early hour and started for the corral. Whitley Adams had also been - detained at the ranch house as a guest. He had invited himself to the - broncho-busting spectacle, and was waiting on the veranda for Roderick as - the latter strolled by. - </p> - <p> - An unbroken horse may or may not be an outlaw. If he takes kindly to the - bridle and saddle and, after the first flush of scared excitement is over - with, settles down and becomes bridle-wise then he is not an outlaw. On - the other hand when put to the test if he begins to rear up—thump - down on his forefeet—buck and twist like a corkscrew and continues - jumping sideways and up and down, bucking and rearing until possibly he - falls over backward, endangering the life of his rider and continues in - this ungovernable fashion until finally he is given up as unbreakable, - why, then the horse is an outlaw. He feels that he has conquered man, and - the next attempt to break him to the saddle will be fraught with still - greater viciousness. - </p> - <p> - Bull-dogging a wild Texas steer is nothing compared with the skill - necessary to conquer an outlaw pony. - </p> - <p> - Nearly all cowboy riders, take to broncho-busting naturally and - good-naturedly, and they usually find an especial delight in assuring the - Easterner that they have never found anything that wears hair they cannot - ride. Of course, this is more or less of a cowboy expression and possibly - borders on vanity. However, as a class, they are not usually inclined to - boast. - </p> - <p> - Very excellent progress had been made in the work of breaking the bronchos - to the saddle. It was along about eleven o’clock when Roderick had - just made his last mount upon what seemed to be one of the most docile - ponies in the corral. He was a three-year-old and had been given the name - of Firefly. The wranglers or helpers had no sooner loosened the blindfold - than Roderick realized he was on the hurricane deck of a pony that would - probably give him trouble. When Firefly felt the weight of Roderick upon - his back, apparently he was stunned to such an extent that he was filled - with indecision as to what he should do and began trembling and settling - as if he might go to his knees. Roderick touched his flank with a sharp - spur and then, with all the suddenness of a flash of lightning from a - clear sky, rider and horse became the agitated center of a whirling cloud - of dust. The horse seemingly would stop just long enough in his corkscrew - whirls to jump high in the air and light on his forefeet with his head - nearly on the ground and then with instantaneous quickness rear almost - upright Whitley Adams was terribly scared at the scene. The struggle - lasted perhaps a couple of minutes, and then Roderick was whirled over the - head of the pony and with a shrill neigh Firefly dashed across the corral - and leaping broke through a six foot fence and galloped away over the open - prairie. The two wranglers and Whitley hastened to Roderick’s side. - He had been stunned but only temporarily and not seriously injured, as it - proved. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s all right,” he said presently as he rubbed - his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Are you hurt?” Whitley inquired. Roderick slowly rose to his - feet with Whitley’s assistance and stretching himself looked about - as if a bit dazed. “No, no,” he replied, “I am not hurt - but that infernal horse has my riding saddle.” - </p> - <p> - “You had better learn to ride a rocking horse before trying to ride - an outlaw, Warfield,” said Scotty Meisch, one of the new - cowpunchers, sneeringly. - </p> - <p> - Roderick whirled on him. “I’ll take you on for a contest most - any day, if you think you are so good and I am so poor as all that,” - he said. “Come on, what do you say?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I ride in the Frontier Day’s celebration that comes on - in July at our local fair,” the cowboy said. “Guess if you - want to ride in a real contest with me you’d better enter your name - and we’ll see how long you last.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, I’ll just do that for once and show you a little - something about real roughriding,” said Roderick; “and Firefly - will be one of the outlaws.” - </p> - <p> - Turning he limped off towards the bunk house with Whitley. - </p> - <p> - Whitley was greatly relieved that Roderick, although he had wrenched the - tendons of his leg, had no broken bones. A couple of other cowboys mounted - their ponies, and with lariats started off across the prairie to capture - the outlaw and bring back the saddle. Whitley was assured that they were - breaking horses all the time and now and then the boys got hold of an - outlaw but no one was ever very seriously injured. - </p> - <p> - Reaching the lounging room of the bunk house, they learned that Grant was - up and dressed. He had evidently gone up to the ranch house and at that - very moment was doubtless basking in the smiles of Miss Dorothy. - </p> - <p> - The college chums, pipes alight, soon got to talking of old times. - </p> - <p> - “By the way,” remarked Whitley between puffs, “last - month I was back at the class reunion at Galesburg and called on Stella - Rain.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick reddened and Whitley went blandly on: “Mighty fine girl—I - mean Stella. Finest college widow ever. I did not know you were the lucky - dog, though?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by my being the lucky dog?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you were always smitten in that quarter—everyone knew - that. And now those tell-tale flushes on your face, together with what - Stella said, makes it all clear. Congratulations, old man,” said - Whitley, laughing good-naturedly at Roderick’s discomfiture. - </p> - <p> - As their hands met, Roderick said: “I don’t know, old chap, - whether congratulations are in order or not. She don’t write as - often as she used to. It don’t argue very well for me.” - </p> - <p> - “Man alive,” said Whitley, “what do you want with a - college widow or a battalion of college widows when you are among such - girls as you have out here? Great Scott, don’t you realize that - these girls are the greatest ever? Grant Jones shows his good sense; he - seems to have roped Miss Dorothy for sure. At first I thought I had your - measure last night, when you were talking to Miss Barbara Shields—for - the moment I had forgotten about Stella. Then you switched off and cut me - out with the fair singer. Say, if somebody don’t capture Miss Gail - Holden—” - </p> - <p> - He paused, puffed awhile, then resumed meditatively: “Why, old man, - down in Keokuk Gail Holden wouldn’t last a month. Someone would pick - her up in a jiffy.” - </p> - <p> - “Provided,” said Roderick, and looked steadily at Whitley. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, of course, provided he could win her.” - </p> - <p> - “These western girls, I judge,” said Roderick slowly—“understand - I am not speaking from experience—are pretty hard to win. There is a - freedom in the very atmosphere of the West that thrills a fellow’s - nerves and suggests the widest sort of independence. And our range girls - are pronouncedly independent, unless I have them sized up wrong. Tell me,” - he continued, “how you feel about Miss Holden?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” replied Whitley, “I knew ahead that she was a - stunning girl, and after that first waltz I felt withered all in a heap. - But when I saw and heard you singing together at the piano, I realized - what was bound to come. Oh, you needn’t blush so furiously. You’ve - got to forget a certain party down at Galesburg. As for me, I’ve got - to fly at humbler game. Guess I’ll have another look around.” - </p> - <p> - He laughed somewhat wistfully, as he rose and knocked the ashes from the - bowl of his pipe. - </p> - <p> - Roderick had not interrupted; he was becoming accustomed to others - deciding for him his matrimonial affairs. He was musing over the - complications that seemed to be crowding into his life. - </p> - <p> - “You see I retire from the contest,” Whitley went on, his - smile broadening, “and I hope you’ll recognize the devoted - loyalty of a friend. But now those Shields girls—one or other of - them—both are equally charming.” - </p> - <p> - “You can’t cut Grant Jones out,” interrupted Roderick - firmly. “Remember, next to yourself, he’s my dearest friend.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well, there’s Miss Barbara left. Now don’t you - think I would be quite irresistible as compared with either of those - lawyer fellows?” He drew himself up admiringly. - </p> - <p> - “You might be liable to get your hide shot full of holes,” - replied Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean?” - </p> - <p> - But Roderick did not explain his enigmatic utterance. - </p> - <p> - “I think I’ll have a lay-down,” he said, “and rest - my stiff bones.” He got up; he said nothing to Whitley, but the - bruised leg pained him considerably. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” replied Whitley gaily. “Then I’ll do - a little further reconnoitering up at the ranch house. So long.” - </p> - <p> - Warfield was glad to be alone. Apart from the pain he was suffering, he - wanted to think things over. He was not blind to the truth that Gail - Holden had brought a new interest into his life. Yet he was half saddened - by the thought that almost a month had gone by without a letter from - Stella Rain. Then Whitley’s coming had brought back memories of - Uncle Allen, Aunt Lois, and the old days at Keokuk. He was feeling very - homesick—utterly tired of the rough cow-punching existence he had - been leading for over six months. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE NIGHT - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N A day or two the - excitement over the great evening party at the Shields ranch had passed - and the humdrum duties of everyday life had been resumed. Whitley Adams - had completed his business at Encampment and taken his departure with the - solemnly renewed promise to Roderick that for the present the latter’s - whereabouts would not be disclosed to the good folks at Keokuk although - their anxiety as to his safety and good health would be relieved. Grant - Jones had torn himself away from his beloved to resume his eternal—and - as he felt at the moment infernal—task of getting out the next issue - of his weekly newspaper. Gail Holden had ridden off over the foothills, - the Shields sisters had returned to their domestic duties, and all the - other beauties of the ballroom had scattered far and wide like thistledown - in a breeze. The cowboys had reverted to chaps and sombreros, dress - clothes had been stowed away with moth balls to keep them company, and the - language of superlative politeness had lapsed back into the terser - vernacular of the stock corral. Roderick was pretty well alone all day in - the bunk house, nursing the stiff leg that had resulted from the - broncho-busting episode. - </p> - <p> - Between embrocations he was doing a little figuring and stock-taking of - ways and means. During his six months on the ranch most of his salary had - been saved. The accumulated amount would enable him to clear off one-half - of his remaining indebtedness in New York and leave him a matter of a - hundred dollars for some prospecting on his own account during the summer - months among the hills. But he would stay by his job for yet another month - or two, because, although the words had been spoken in the heat of the - moment, he had pledged himself to meet the cowboy Scotty Meisch in the - riding contest at the Frontier Day’s celebration. Yes, he would - stick to that promise, he mused as he rubbed in the liniment Gail Holden, - when she had come to bid him good-by and express her condolence over his - accident, had announced her own intention of entering for the lariat - throwing competition, but he would never have admitted to himself that the - chance of meeting her again in such circumstances, the chance of restoring - his prestige as a broncho-buster before her very eyes, had the slightest - thing to do with his resolve to delay his start in systematic quest of the - lost mine. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Buell Hampton seemed to have withdrawn himself from the world. - During the two weeks that had intervened between the invitation and the - dance, he had not called at the ranch. Nor did he come now during the - weeks that followed, and one evening when Grant Jones paid a visit to the - Major’s home he found the door locked. Grant surveyed with both - surprise and curiosity the addition that had been made to the building. It - was a solid structure of logs, showing neither door nor window to the - outside, and evidently was only reached through the big living room. - </p> - <p> - He reported the matter to Roderick, but the latter, his stiff leg now all - right again, was too busy among the cattle on the ranges to bother about - other things. - </p> - <p> - But Buell Hampton all this time had been very active indeed. During the - winter months he had thought out his plans. Somehow he had come to look - upon the hidden valley with its storehouse of golden wealth as a sacred - place not to be trespassed on by the common human drove. Just so soon as - the melting snows rendered the journey practicable, he had returned all - alone to the sequestered nook nested in the mountains. He had discovered - that quite a little herd of deer had found shelter and subsistence there - during the months of winter. As he came among them, they had shown, - themselves quite tame and fearless; three or four does had nibbled the - fresh spring grass almost at his very feet as he had sat on the porphyry - dyke, enjoying the beautiful scene, alone in his little kingdom, with only - these gentle creatures and the twittering birds for companions. - </p> - <p> - And there and then Buell Hampton had resolved that he would not desecrate - this sanctuary of nature—that he would not bring in the brutal eager - throng of gold seekers, changing the lovely little valley into a scene of - sordid greed and ugliness, its wild flowers crushed underfoot, its - pellucid stream turned to sludge, its rightful inhabitants, the - gentle-eyed deer, butchered for riotous gluttony. No, never! He would take - the rich God-given gift of gold that was his, gratefully and for the - ulterior purpose of spreading human happiness. But all else he would leave - undisturbed. - </p> - <p> - The gold-bearing porphyry dyke stretching across the narrow valley was - decomposed; it required no drilling nor blasting; its bulk could easily be - broken by aid of sledge hammer and crowbar. Two or three men working - steadily for two or three months could remove the entire dyke as it lay - visible between mountain rock wall and mountain rock wall, and taking the - assay value of the ore as already ascertained, from this operation alone - there was wealth for all interested beyond the dreams of avarice. Buell - Hampton debated the issues all through that afternoon of solitude spent in - the little canyon. And when he regained his home he had arrived at a fixed - resolution. He would win the treasure but he would save the valley—he - would keep it a hidden valley still. - </p> - <p> - Next evening he had Tom Sun, Boney Earnest and Jim Rankin all assembled in - secret conclave. While the aid of Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would - be called in later on, for the present their services would not be - required. So for the present likewise there would be nothing more said to - them—the fewer in the “know” the safer for all - concerned. - </p> - <p> - It was agreed that Tom Sun, Jim Rankin and the Major would bring out the - ore. Jim was to hire a substitute to drive his stage, while Tom Sun would - temporarily hand over the care of his flocks to his manager and herders. - Boney Earnest could not leave his work at the smelter—his duties - there were so responsible that any sudden withdrawal might have stopped - operations entirely and so caused the publicity all were anxious to avoid. - But as he did not go to the plant on Sundays, his active help would be - available each Saturday night. Thus the plans were laid. - </p> - <p> - But although Buell Hampton had allied himself with these helpers in his - work and participants in the spoil, he yet guarded from them the exact - locality of his find. All this was strictly in accordance with goldmining - usage among the mountains of Wyoming, so the Major offered no apology for - his precautions, his associates asked for or expected none. Each man - agreed that he would go blindfolded to the spot where the rich ore was to - be broken and packed for removal. - </p> - <p> - Thus had it come about that, while Buell Hampton seemed to have - disappeared from the world, all the while he was very busy indeed, and - great things were in progress. Actual work had commenced some days before - the dance at the Shields’ home, and it continued steadily in the - following routine. - </p> - <p> - The Major, Tom Sun and Jim Rankin passed most of the day sleeping. At - night after dark, they would sally forth into the hills, mounted on three - horses with three pack burros. A few miles away from Encampment the Major - would blindfold his two assistants, and then they would proceed in - silence. When they arrived near Spirit Falls the horses and burros would - be tethered and Major Hampton would lead the way down the embankment to - the river’s bank, then turn to the left, while Tom Sun, blindfolded, - extended one hand on Buell Hampton’s shoulder and still behind was - Jim Rankin with his hand extended on Tom Sun’s shoulder. Thus they - would make their way to a point back of the waterfall, and then some - considerable distance into the mountain cavern where the blindfolds were - removed. With an electric torch the Major lighted the way through the - grotto into the open valley. - </p> - <p> - A little farther on was the dyke of porphyry, quartz and gold. Here the - sacks would be filled with the rich ore—their loads all that each - man could carry. Footsteps were then retraced with the same precautions as - before. - </p> - <p> - Placing the ore sacks on the backs of their burros, the night riders would - climb into their saddles and slowly start out on the return journey, the - Major driving the burros ahead along a mountain path, while Tom Sun and - Jim Rankin’s horses followed. After they had gone on for a few miles - Major Hampton would shout back to his assistants to remove the blindfolds, - and thus they would return to the town of Encampment in the gray dawn of - morning, unloading their burros at the door of Major Hampton’s - house. Jim Rankin would take charge of the stock and put them in a stable - and corral he had prepared down near the banks of the Platte River just - over the hill. Tom Sun would show his early training by preparing a - breakfast of ham and eggs and steaming coffee while the Major was placing - the ore in one hundred pound sacks and carrying them back into the - blockade addition he had built to his home. He would then lock the heavy - door connecting the storehouse with the living room. - </p> - <p> - Usually the breakfast was ready by the time the Major had finished his - part of the work and Jim Rankin had returned. After the morning meal and a - smoke, these three mysterious workers of the night would lie down to - sleep, only to repeat the trip the following evening. Each Saturday night, - as has been explained, Boney Earnest was added to the party, as well as an - extra horse and burro. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton estimated that each burro was bringing out one hundred - pounds nightly, or about three hundred pounds every trip for the three - burros, with an extra hundred pounds on Saturday night. If this ore - yielded $114.00 per pound, the assay value already paid him, or call it - $100.00, it meant that he was adding to his storehouse of treasure about - $220,000.00 as the result of each week’s labors. Thus in three - months’ time there would be not far short of $3,000,-000.00 worth of - high grade gold ores accumulated. If reduced to tons this would make - nearly a full carload when the time came for moving the vast wealth to the - railroad. - </p> - <p> - One night in the midst of these operations, when Jim Rankin and Tom Sun - supposed they were on the point of starting on the usual trip into the - hidden valley, Buell Hampton filled his pipe for an extra smoke and - invited his two faithful friends to do likewise. “We are not going - tonight,” said he. “We will have a rest and hold a conference.” - </p> - <p> - “Good,” said Jim Rankin. “Speakin’ wide open like, - by gunnies, my old bones are gettin’ to be pretty dangnation sore.” - </p> - <p> - “Too bad about you,” said Tom Sun. “Too bad that you - aren’t as young as I am, Jim.” - </p> - <p> - “Young, the devil,” returned Jim. “I’m - prognosticatin’ I have pints about me that’d loco you any time - good and plenty. ‘Sides you know you are seven years older than me. - Gosh ‘lmighty, Tom, you an’ me have been together ever since - we struck this here country mor’n forty years ago.” - </p> - <p> - Tom laughed and the Major laughed. - </p> - <p> - It was arranged that when the carload was ready Jim Rankin was to rig up - three four-horse teams and Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would be - called on to accompany the whole outfit to Walcott, the nearest town on - the Union Pacific, where a car would be engaged in advance for the - shipment of the ore to one of the big smelters at Denver. The strictest - secrecy would be kept even then, for reasons of safety as well as to - preserve the privacy desired by Buell Hampton. So they would load up the - wagons at night and start for the railroad about three o’clock in - the morning. - </p> - <p> - Thus as they smoked and yawned during their night of rest the three men - discussed and decided every detail of these future plans. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR a time Roderick - had hung back from accepting the invitation to call at the Conchshell - ranch, as the Holden place was called. In pursuing the acquaintanceship - with Gail he knew that he was playing with fire—a delightful game - but one that might work sad havoc with his future peace of mind. However, - one day when he had an afternoon off and had ridden into Encampment again - to be disappointed in finding no letter from Stella, he had felt just the - necessary touch of irritation toward his fiancée that spurred him on to - seek some diversion from his thoughts of being badly treated and - neglected. Certainly, he would call on General Holden—he did not say - to himself that he was bent on seeing Gail again, looking into her - beautiful eyes, hearing her sing, perhaps joining in a song. - </p> - <p> - He was mounted on his favorite riding horse Badger, a fine bay pony, and - had followed the road up the North Fork of the Encampment River a number - of miles. Taking a turn to the left through the timbered country with - rocky crags towering on either side in loftiest grandeur, he soon reached - the beautiful plateau where Gail Holden’s home was located. The - little ranch contained some three hundred acres, and cupped inward like a - saucer, with a mountain stream traversing from the southerly to the - northerly edge, where the Conchshell canyon gashed through the rim of the - plateau and permitted the waters to escape and flow onward and away into - the North Fork. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick approached the house, which was on a knoll planted with - splendid firs and pines, he heard Gail singing “Robert Adair.” - He dismounted and hitched his horse under the shelter of a wide spreading - oak. Just as he came up the steps to the broad porch Gail happened to see - him through one of the windows. She ceased her singing and hastened to - meet him with friendly greeting. - </p> - <p> - “Welcome, Mr. Warfield, thrice welcome, as Papa sometimes says,” - said Gail, smiling. - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said Roderick, gallantly. “I was riding in - this direction and concluded to stop in and accept your kind invitation to - meet the General.” - </p> - <p> - “He will be delighted to see you, Mr. Warfield, I have told him - about your singing.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that was making too much of my poor efforts.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all. You see my father is very fond of music—never - played nor sang in his life, but has always taken keen delight in hearing - good music. And I tell you he is quite a judge.” - </p> - <p> - “Which makes me quite determined then not to sing in his presence,” - laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you can’t get out of it now you’re here. He won’t - allow it. Nor will I. You won’t refuse to sing for me, will you? Or - with me?” she added with a winning smile. - </p> - <p> - “That would be hard indeed to refuse,” he replied, happy yet - half-reproaching himself for his very happiness. - </p> - <p> - “Daddie is walking around the grounds somewhere at present,” - continued Gail. “Won’t you step inside and rest, Mr. Warfield? - He’ll turn up presently.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, this old rustic seat here on the porch looks exceedingly - comfortable. And I fancy that is your accustomed rocker,” he added, - pointing to a piece of embroidery, with silk and needles, slung over the - arm of a chair. - </p> - <p> - “You are a regular Sherlock Holmes,” she laughed. “Well, - I have been stitching all the afternoon, and just broke off my work for a - song.” - </p> - <p> - “I heard you. Can’t you be persuaded to continue?” - </p> - <p> - “Not at present. We’ll wait till Papa comes. And the weather - is so delightfully warm that I will take my accustomed rocker—and - the hint implied as well.” - </p> - <p> - Again she laughed gaily as she dropped into the commodious chair and - picked up the little square of linen with its half-completed embroidery. - </p> - <p> - Roderick took the rustic seat and gazed admiringly over the cup-shaped - lands that spread out before him like a scroll, with their background of - lofty mountains. - </p> - <p> - “You have a delightful view from here,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Gail, as she threaded one of her needles with a - strand of crimson. “I know of no other half so beautiful. And it has - come to be a very haven of peace and happiness. Perhaps you know that my - father last year lost everything he possessed in the world through an - unfortunate speculation. But that was nothing—we lost my dear mother - then as well. This little ranch of Conchshell was the one thing left that - we could call our own, and here we found our refuge and our consolation.” - </p> - <p> - She was speaking very softly, her hands had dropped on her lap, there was - the glisten of tears in her eyes. Roderick was seeing the daring rider of - the hills, the acknowledged belle of the ballroom in yet another light, - and was lost in admiration. - </p> - <p> - “Very sad,” he murmured, in conventional commiseration. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, not sad,” she replied brightly, looking up, sunshine - showing through her tears. “Dear mother is at rest after her long - illness, father has recovered his health in this glorious mountain air, - and I have gained a serious occupation in life. Oh, I just love this - miniature cattle range,” she went on enthusiastically. “Look - at it”—she swept the landscape with an upraised hand. “Don’t - all my sweet Jerseys and Hainaults dotted over those meadows look like the - little animals in a Noah’s ark we used to play with when children?” - </p> - <p> - “They do indeed,” concurred Roderick, with heartily responsive - enthusiasm. - </p> - <p> - “And I’m going to make this dairy stock business pay to beat - the band,” she added, her face fairly aglow. “Just give me - another year or two.” - </p> - <p> - “You certainly deserve success,” affirmed Roderick, - emphatically. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I don’t know. But I do try so hard.” - </p> - <p> - Her beautiful face had sweet wistfulness in it now. Roderick was admiring - its swift expressive changes—he was saying to himself that he could - read the soul of this splendidly frank young woman like a book. He felt - thrilled and exalted. - </p> - <p> - “But here comes Papa,” exclaimed Gail, springing delightedly - to her feet - </p> - <p> - Roderick’s spirits dropped like a plummet. At such an interesting - psychological moment he could have wished the old General far enough. - </p> - <p> - But there was a pleasant smile on his face as Gail presented him, genuine - admiration in the responsive pressure of his hand as he gazed into the - veteran’s handsome countenance and thanked him for his cordial - welcome. - </p> - <p> - “Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” General Holden was saying. - “My friend Shields has spoken mighty well of you, and Gail here says - you have the finest baritone voice in all Wyoming.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Daddie!” cried Gail, in blushing confusion. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’m going to decide for myself. Come right in. We’ll - have a song while Gail makes us a cup of tea. An old soldier’s song - for a start—she won’t be listening, so I can suit myself this - time.” - </p> - <p> - And Roderick to his bewilderment found himself clutched by the arm, and - being led indoors to the piano like a lamb to the slaughter. Gail had - disappeared, and he was actually warbling “Marching through Georgia,” - aided by a thunderous chorus from the General. - </p> - <p> - “As we go marching through Georgia,” echoed Gail, when at the - close of the song she advanced from the domestic quarters with sprightly - military step, carrying high aloft a tea tray laden with dainty china and - gleaming silverware. - </p> - <p> - All laughed heartily, and a delightful afternoon was initiated—tea - and cake, solos and duets, intervals of pleasant conversation, a Schubert - sonata by Gail, and a rendition by Roderick of the Soldiers’ Chorus - from Faust that fairly won the old General’s heart. - </p> - <p> - The hours had sped like a dream, and it was in the sunset glow that - Roderick, having declined a pressing invitation to stay for dinner, was - bidding Gail good-by. She had stepped down from the veranda and was - standing by his horse admiring it and patting its silky coat. - </p> - <p> - “By the way, you mentioned at the Shields’ party that you - expected to go trout fishing, Mr. Warfield. Did you have good luck?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick confessed that as yet he had not treated himself to a day’s - sport with the finny tribe. “I was thinking about it this very - morning,” he went on, “and was wondering if I had not better - secure a companion—someone skilled with rod and reel and fly to go - with me, as I am a novice.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’ll go with you,” she exclaimed quickly. “Would - be glad to do so.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s mighty kind of you, Miss Holden,” replied - Roderick, half hesitatingly, while a smile played about his handsome face. - “But since you put it that way I would be less than courteous if I - did not eagerly and enthusiastically accept. When shall we go?” - </p> - <p> - “You name the day,” said Gail. - </p> - <p> - Roderick leaned hastily forward and placing one hand on his heart said - with finely assumed gallantry: “I name the day?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you know quite well I do not mean that.” - </p> - <p> - She laughed gaily, but all the same a little blush had stolen into her - cheeks. - </p> - <p> - “I thought it was the fair lady’s privilege to name the day,” - said Roderick, mischievously. - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said Gail, soberly, “we will go trout - fishing tomorrow.” - </p> - <p> - “It is settled,” said Roderick. “What hour is your - pleasure?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is better,” replied Gail, “to go early in the - morning or late in the evening. Personally I prefer the morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, I will be here and saddle Fleetfoot for you, say, at - seven tomorrow morning.” - </p> - <p> - And so it was agreed. - </p> - <p> - It was only when he was cantering along the roadway toward home that - Roderick remembered how Barbara Shields had on several occasions invited - him to go trout fishing with her, but in some way circumstances had always - intervened to postpone the expedition. In Gail’s case, however, - every obstacle seemed to have been swept aside—he had never even - thought of asking Mr. Shields for the morning off. However, that would be - easily arranged, so he rode on in blissful contentment and happy - anticipation for the morrow. - </p> - <p> - The next morning at the appointed time found him at Conchshell ranch. - Before he reached the house he discovered Fleetfoot saddled and bridled - standing at the gate. - </p> - <p> - Gail came down the walk as he approached and a cheery good-morning was - followed by their at once mounting their horses and following a roadway - that led eastward to the South Fork of the Encampment River. - </p> - <p> - “You brought your flies, Mr. Warfield?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes,” replied Roderick. “I have plenty of flies—both - hackle and coachman. These have been specially recommended to me, but as I - warned you last night I am a novice and don’t know much about them.” - </p> - <p> - “I sometimes use the coachman,” said Gail, “although, - like yourself, I am not very well up on the entomology of fly fishing.” - </p> - <p> - Soon the road led them away from the open valley into a heavy timber that - crowned the westerly slope of the river. They soon arrived at their - destination. Dismounting they quickly tethered their horses. Gail - unfastened her hip boots from back of her saddle, and soon her bifurcated - bloomer skirts were tucked away in the great rubber boots and duly - strapped about her slender waist. Roderick was similarly equipped with - wading boots, and after rods, lines and flies had been carefully adjusted - they turned to the river. The mountains with their lofty rocky ledges—the - swift running waters rippling and gurgling over the rocky bed of the river—the - beautiful forests that rose up on either side, of pine and spruce and - cottonwood, the occasional whistle and whirr of wild birds—the balmy - morning air filled life to overflowing for these two disciples of Izaak - Walton bent upon filling their baskets with brook and rainbow trout. - </p> - <p> - “The stream is sufficiently wide,” observed Gail, “so we - can go downstream together. You go well toward the west bank and I will - hug the east bank.” Roderick laughed. - </p> - <p> - “What are you laughing at?” asked Gail. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I was just sorry I am not the east bank.” The - exhilarating mountain air had given him unwonted audacity. - </p> - <p> - “You are a foolish fellow,” said Gail—“at least - sometimes. Usually I think you are awfully nice.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you think we had better fish,” asked Roderick, - whimsically, “or talk this matter over?” - </p> - <p> - Gail looked very demure and very determined. - </p> - <p> - “You go right on with your fishing and do as I do, Mr. Roderick - Warfield. Remember, I’m the teacher.” She stamped her little - booted foot, and then waded into the water and cast her fly far down - stream. “See how I cast my line.” - </p> - <p> - “You know a whole lot about fishing, don’t you?” asked - Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, I ought to. During occasional summer visits to the ranch I - have fished in these waters ever so many times. You must not talk too - much,” she added in a lower voice. “Trout are very alert, you - know.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “If fish could hear as well as see - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Never a fish would there be— - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - in our baskets.” And she laughed softly at this admonition for - Roderick to fish and cease badinage. - </p> - <p> - “Which way is the wind?” asked Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “There is none,” replied Gail. - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “When the wind is from the North - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - The skilful fisherman goes not forth,” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - quoted Roderick. “Don’t that prove I know something about - fishing—I mean fly fishing?” - </p> - <p> - “You have a much better way to prove your sport-manship,” - insisted Gail. “The fish are all around you and your basket is - hanging empty from your shoulder.” - </p> - <p> - “Rebuked and chided,” exclaimed Roderick, softly. - </p> - <p> - They continued to cast and finally Gail said: “I have a Marlow Buzz - on my hook.” - </p> - <p> - “What is that?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, it is a species of the Brown Palmer fly. I like them better - than the hackle although the coachman may be equally as good. Look out!” - she suddenly exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - Roderick turned round quickly and saw her line was taut, cutting the water - sharply to the right and to the left while her rod was bent like a bow. - She quickly loosened her reel which hummed like a song of happiness while - her line sliced the waters like a knife. - </p> - <p> - “Guess you have a rainbow,” cried Roderick excitedly, but Gail - paid no attention to his remark. - </p> - <p> - Presently the trout leaped from the water and fell back again, then - attempted to dart away; but the slack of line was not sufficient for the - captive to break from the hook. - </p> - <p> - The trout finally ceased its fight, and a moment later was lifted safely - from the water and landed in Gail’s net. But even now it continued - to prove itself a veritable circus performer, giving an exhibition of - flopping, somersaulting, reversed handsprings—if a fish could do - such things—with astonishing rapidity. - </p> - <p> - “Bravo,” shouted Roderick, as Gail finally released the hook - and deposited the fish in her basket. - </p> - <p> - Less than a minute later Roderick with all the enthusiasm and zeal - imaginable was letting out his reel and holding his line taut, for he, - too, had been rewarded. And soon he had proudly deposited his first catch - of the day in his fish basket. - </p> - <p> - On they went down the river, over riffles and into deep pools where the - water came well up above their knees; but, nothing daunted, these - fishermen kept going until the sun was well up in the eastern sky. At last - Gail halloed and said: “Say, Mr. Warfield, my basket is almost full - and I am getting hungry.” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Roderick, “we will retrace our steps. - There is a pretty good path along the east bank.” - </p> - <p> - “How many have you?” asked Gail. - </p> - <p> - “Twenty-six,” replied Roderick as he scrambled up the bank. - </p> - <p> - “I have thirty-one,” said Gail, enthusiastically. - </p> - <p> - Roderick approached the bank, and reaching down helped her to a footing on - the well-beaten path. Then they started up-stream for their horses. - </p> - <p> - It was almost eleven o’clock when they arrived at their point of - departure and had removed their wading boots. Gail went to her saddle and - unlashed a little luncheon basket. - </p> - <p> - She utilized a large tree stump for a table, and after it had been covered - with a napkin and the dainty luncheon of boned chicken, sardines and - crackers had been set forth, she called to Roderick and asked him to fill - a pair of silver collapsible drinking cups which she handed to him. He - went to the brook and returned with the ice-cold mountain vintage. - </p> - <p> - “I am just hungry enough,” said Gail, “to enjoy this - luncheon although it is not a very sumptuous repast.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick smiled as he took a seat upon the felled tree. - </p> - <p> - “Expect you think you will inveigle me into agreeing with you. But - not on your life. I would enjoy such a luncheon as this any time, even if - I were not hungry. But in the present circumstances—well, I will let - you pass judgment upon my appetite after we have eaten.” - </p> - <p> - “As they say on the long army marches in the books,” said - Gail, gaily, “I guess we had better fall to.” And forthwith - with much merriment and satisfaction over their morning’s catch they - proceeded to dispose of the comestibles. - </p> - <p> - It was only a little after noon when they reached the Conchshell ranch, - and soon thereafter Roderick’s pony was galloping along the road on - his homeward way. He had never enjoyed such a morning in all his life. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE FRONTIER - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was great - excitement among the bunch of cowboys on the Shields’ ranch when the - local newspapers came out with startling headlines and full announcements - in regard to the annual frontier celebration. That night every line of the - full page advertisements, also the columns of editorial elaborations on - the contests and other events, were read aloud to an eager assemblage of - all hands in front of the bunk house. - </p> - <p> - The <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> predicted that this year’s celebration - would undoubtedly afford the greatest Wild West show ever witnessed - outside of a regular circus display organized as a money-making - undertaking. Everything was going to be just the real thing—the - miners’ drilling contest, the roping competition, the - bucking-broncho features, and so on. More than a score of outlaw horses - that had thrown every cow-puncher who ever attempted to ride them had - already been engaged. The <i>Doublejack</i> further declared that the - tournament would be both for glory and for bags of yellow gold, with World’s - Championships to the best rider, to the best bucking broncho buster, to - the best trick roper, to the fastest cowpony, and to the most daring and - lucky participant in the bull-dogging of wild steers. - </p> - <p> - In the columns of the Encampment <i>Herald</i> special attention was drawn - to the fact that in the rough riding and outlaw bucking contest for the - world’s championship there was a purse of $1,000 to be divided—$450 - for first prize, $300 second prize, $150 third prize and $100 fourth - prize, while in addition Buck Henry, the banker, offered a $200 - championship saddle to the rider who took first place. It was also - announced that the fair association would pay $50 in cash for every horse - brought to the grounds that was sufficiently unmanageable to throw every - rider; each participant to ride any horse and as often as the judges might - deem necessary to determine the winner; chaps and spurs to be worn by the - riders, and leather pulling would disqualify. - </p> - <p> - Both papers referred to the band concerts as a feature of great interest - throughout the three days of the fair. Everything was to be decorated in - colors—red and green, black and yellow, blue and white, pink and - scarlet—from the grandstand down to the peanut boy. The race track - was fast and in excellent condition, and everything would be in readiness - at the appointed time. - </p> - <p> - After each item of news was read out there was a buzz of comment among the - assembled cowboys, challenges were made, bets freely offered and accepted. - As the gathering dispersed Roderick Warfield and Scotty Meisch exchanged - significant glances but spoke no word—they had been as strangers to - each other ever since their fierce quarrel on the morning of the - broncho-busting exercises. Roderick was glad that the day was near at hand - when the fellow would be made to eat his words. And with the thought also - came thoughts of Gail Holden. Gee, but it would be fine to see her ride in - such a contest of nerve and skill! - </p> - <p> - At last the eventful morning dawned and the people swarmed into Encampment - from all the surrounding country. They came from far below Saratoga to the - north. The entire Platte Valley from as far south as the Colorado state - line and beyond were on hand. In fact, from all over the state and even - beyond its confines the whole population moved in to participate in this - great frontier day celebration. A crowd came over from Steamboat Springs - and brought with them the famous outlaw horse Steamboat, who had never - been ridden although he had thrown at least a dozen cowpunchers of highest - renown. - </p> - <p> - When the programmes were distributed, Firefly was found upon the list of - outlaw horses, and also to the surprise of many of his friends the name of - Roderick Warfield appeared as one of the contestants in both the - bull-dogging and bucking broncho events. - </p> - <p> - It was a veritable Mecca of delight for the miners in their drilling - contests and for the cowboys in their dare-devil riding of outlaw horses—testing - their prowess and skill in conquering the seemingly unconquerable. The - lassoing of fleet-footed and angry cattle, the bull-dogging of wild steers - gathered up from different parts of the country because of their - reputation for long horns and viciousness, were spectacles to challenge - the admiration of the immense throng seated in the grandstand and on the - bleachers. - </p> - <p> - It was just ten o’clock on the morning of the first day when the - judges sounded the gong and started the series of contests. The first - event was a cow-pony race, with no restriction as to the sex of the - riders. Ponies were to be fourteen hands two inches or under. There were - seven starters. Up in one corner of the grandstand sat Grant Jones - surrounded by a bevy of beautiful girls. Among them of course was Dorothy - Shields. All were in a flutter of excitement over the race that was about - to be run; for Gail Holden was among the contestants. - </p> - <p> - Gail Holden, quiet, unassuming, yet full of determination, looked a - veritable queen as she sat her pony Fleetfoot clad in soft silk - shirtwaist, gray divided skirt, and gray soft felt hat. With a tremor of - delight Roderick noticed that she wore on her sleeve as her colors one of - his college arm-bands, which he had given her when calling at the - Conchshell ranch one evening after the trout fishing expedition. - </p> - <p> - At last the bell sounded and the word “Go” was given. A shout - went up from the grandstand—“They’re off—they’re - off.” And away the seven horses dashed—-four men and three - lady riders. At the moment of starting Gail had flung her hat to the - winds. She used no quirt but held her pony free to the right and in the - open. It was a half-mile track and the race was for one mile. When they - swept down past the grandstand on the first lap Fleetfoot had gained third - place. A pandemonium of shouts went up as the friends of each madly yelled - to the riders to urge their mounts to greater speed. At the far turn it - was noticed that Fleetfoot was running almost neck and neck with the two - leaders, and then as they came up the stretch, running low, it seemed as - if the race would finish in a dead heat between all three ponies. - </p> - <p> - Just then Gail reached down and was seen to pat her pony upon the neck and - evidently was talking to him. Fleetfoot leaned forward as if fired with - fierce determination to comply with her request for still greater effort - His muscles seemed to be retensioned. He began creeping away inch by inch - from his adversaries, and amid the plaudits and shouts of the people in - the grandstand and bleachers, who rose to their feet waving handkerchiefs - and hats in a frenzy of tumultuous approval, Gail’s horse passed - first under the wire—winner by a short head, was the judges’ - verdict. - </p> - <p> - The second feature was a great drilling contest of the miners from the - surrounding hills. There were twelve pairs of contestants, and Grant Jones - became wild with excitement when friends of his from Dillon were awarded - the championship. - </p> - <p> - And thus event followed event until the day’s program was completed. - </p> - <p> - Gail and Roderick were bidding each other goodnight at the gateway of the - enclosure. - </p> - <p> - “I owe you my very special thanks,” he said as he held her - hand. - </p> - <p> - “What for?” she enquired. - </p> - <p> - “For wearing my old college arm-band in the pony race.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Gail, blushing slightly, “I had to have - something to keep my sleeve from coming down too far on my wrist Besides - they are pretty colors, aren’t they?” - </p> - <p> - But Roderick was not going to be sidetracked by any such naive - questioning. - </p> - <p> - “I refuse pointblank,” he answered, smiling, “to accept - any excuse for your wearing the badge. I insist it was a compliment to me - and shall interpret it in no other way.” - </p> - <p> - Her blush deepened, but she made no further protest. General Holden had - approached. She turned and took his arm. - </p> - <p> - “Until tomorrow then,” exclaimed Roderick, raising his hat to - both father and daughter. - </p> - <p> - “Until tomorrow,” she quietly responded. - </p> - <p> - The morrow brought resumption of the tournament. Gail Holden was to - display her prowess in throwing the lariat, while Roderick had entered his - name in the bull-dogging event. - </p> - <p> - In the roping contest Gail was the only lady contestant. The steers were - given a hundred feet of start, and then the ropers, swinging their - lariats, started after them in a mad gallop. - </p> - <p> - Gail was again mounted on Fleet foot, and if anything ever looked like - attempting an impossibility it was for this slender girl with her neatly - gloved little hands, holding a lariat in the right and the reins of the - pony in her left, to endeavor to conquer and hogtie a three-year-old steer - on the run. And yet, undismayed she undertook to accomplish this very - thing. When the word was given she dashed after the fleeing - three-year-old, and then as if by magic the lariat sprang away from her in - a graceful curve and fell cleverly over the horns of the steer. - Immediately Fleetfoot set himself for the shock he well knew was coming. - </p> - <p> - The steer’s momentum was so suddenly arrested that it was thrown to - the ground. Gail sprang from the saddle, and the trained pony as he backed - away kept the lariat taut. Thus was the steer hogtied by Gail’s - slender hands in 55 3/5 seconds from the time the word was given. - </p> - <p> - All of the lassoers had been more or less successful, but the crowd stood - up and yelled in wildest enthusiasm, and waved their hats and - handkerchiefs, as the time for this marvelous feat by Gail was announced - from the judges’ stand. - </p> - <p> - In the afternoon the bull-dogging contest was reached, and Grant Jones - said to those about him: “Now get ready for some thrills and - breathless moments.” - </p> - <p> - When the word was given a wild long-horned steer came rushing down past - the grandstand closely followed by a cowboy on his fleet and nimble pony. - In the corral were perhaps a score of steers and there was a cowboy rider - ready for each of them. Four or five steers were bull-dogged one after the - other. Some had been quickly thrown to the ground by the athletic cowboys - amid the plaudits of the onlookers. But one had proven too strong for the - skill and quickness of his adversary, and after rather severely injuring - the intrepid youthful gladiator rushed madly on down the race track. - </p> - <p> - Presently Roderick Warfield came into view astride his favorite pony, - Badger, riding at full tilt down the race course, chasing a huge - cream-colored steer with wide-spread horns, cruelly sharp and - dangerous-looking. As horse and steer came abreast Roderick’s - athletic form swayed in his saddle for a moment, and then like a flash he - was seen to leap on to the steer’s back and reaching forward grab - the animal’s horns. An instant later he had swung his muscular body - to the ground in front of his sharp homed adversary and brought him to an - abrupt halt. - </p> - <p> - Gail Holden’s face grew pale as she watched the scene from among a - group of her girl friends on the grandstand. - </p> - <p> - The object of the bull-dogging contest is to twist the neck of the steer - and throw him to the ground. But Roderick accomplished more. The steer - lifted him once from the ground, and the great throng of people on the - grandstand and bleachers, also the hundreds who had been unable to obtain - seating accommodation and were standing along the rails, held their breath - in bated silence. The powerful cream-colored steer threw his head up, and - lifting Roderick’s feet from their anchorage started on a mad run. - But when he lowered his head a moment later Roderick’s feet caught - the earth again, and the steer was brought to a standstill. Then the - milling back and forth began. Roderick’s toes sank deep into the - sand that covered the race track; the muscles of his neck stood out in - knots. Finally, with one heroic twist on the long horns as a pry over a - fulcrum, he accomplished the feat of combined strength and endurance, and - the intense silence of the great throng was broken by a report like the - shot of a pistol as the bull-dogged steer fell heavily to the earth—dead. - The animal’s neck was broken. - </p> - <p> - There are very few cases on record where a steer’s neck has been - broken in bull-dogging contests. Roderick therefore had gained a rare - distinction. But technically he had done too much, for the judges were - compelled to withhold from him the honors of the championship because in - killing the animal he had violated the humane laws of the state, which - they were pledged to observe throughout the series of contests. But this - did not affect the tumult of applause that acclaimed his victory over the - huge and vicious-looking steer. Afterwards when his friends gathered - around him in wonderment at his having entered for such an event he - confessed that for several weeks he had been practicing bull-dogging out - on the range, preparing for this contest. - </p> - <p> - In the afternoon of the last day, the finals of the bucking-broncho - competition were announced from the grandstand. There were only three - contestants remaining out of the score or more of original entries, and - Roderick Warfield was among the number. Scotty Meisch was there—the - cowboy whom Roderick had challenged—also Bud Bledsoe, the bodyguard - and sleuth of W. B. Grady. Three of the unconquered outlaws were brought - out—each attended by two wranglers; the names of the horses were put - in a hat and each cowboy drew for his mount. Roderick Warfield drew Gin - Fizz, Bud Bledsoe drew Steamboat and Scotty Meisch drew Firefly. And in a - few moments the wranglers were busy. - </p> - <p> - Three horses and six wranglers working on them at the same time! It was a - sight that stirred the blood with expectation. These horses had been - successful in throwing the riders who had previously attempted to subdue - them. The outlaws were recognized by the throng even before their names - were called from the grandstand. - </p> - <p> - The method of the game is this: One wrangler approaches the horse while - the other holds taut the lariat that has been thrown over his neck; and if - the freehanded wrangler is quick enough or lucky enough he seizes the - horse by the ears and throws his whole weight on the animal’s head, - which is then promptly decorated with a hackamore knotted bridle. A - hackamore is a sort of a halter, but it is made of the toughest kind of - rawhide and so tied that a knot presses disastrously against the lower jaw - of the horse. After being haltered the outlaw is blindfolded with a - gunnysack. To accomplish all this is a dangerous struggle between horse - and the wranglers. Then the word “Saddle” is shouted, and the - saddles are quickly adjusted to the backs of these untamed denizens of the - wild. It takes considerable time to accomplish all this and have the - girths tightened to the satisfaction of the wranglers first and of the - rider last. Invariably the rider is the court of final resort in - determining that the outlaw is in readiness to be mounted. - </p> - <p> - At last the moments of tense expectancy were ended. It was seen that one - of the outlaws was ready, and at a call from the judges’ stand, - Scotty Meisch the first rough-rider leaped on to the back of his untamed - horse. - </p> - <p> - The “Ki-yi” yell was given—the blindfold slipped from - Firefly’s eyes, and the rowels of the rider sunk into the flanks of - his horse. Bucking and plunging, wheeling and whirling, all the time the - rider not daring to “pull leather” and so disqualify himself - under the rules, the outlaw once again proved himself a veritable demon. - In just two minutes after the struggle began Scotty Meisch measured his - length on the ground and Firefly was dashing for the open. The scene had - been a thrilling one. Roderick noticed that Scotty had to be helped off - the track, but he felt no concern—the rough-rider parted from his - mount in a hurry may be temporarily dazed but is seldom seriously hurt. - </p> - <p> - Steamboat was the next horse. Bud Bledsoe was wont to brag there was - nothing wore hair that he could not ride. But Steamboat, when he felt the - weight of a rider on his back, was as usual possessed of a devil. But - Bledsoe was not the man to conquer the noted outlaw, and down he went in - prompt and inglorious defeat. - </p> - <p> - Gin Fizz was a magnificent specimen of horseflesh—black as midnight - with a coat of hair that shone like velvet. His proud head was held high - in air. He stood like a statue while blindfolded and Roderick Warfield was - making ready to mount. - </p> - <p> - The vast assemblage in the grandstand held their breath in amazement and - wondered what would become of the rider of the giant black. - </p> - <p> - Then Roderick quickly mounted, and men and women rose to their feet to see - the terribleness of it all. Roderick sent his spurs deep into the flanks - of the black and plied the quirt in a desperate effort quickly to master - and subdue the outlaw. - </p> - <p> - The horse reared and plunged with lightning quickness, and at times was - the center of a whirlwind of dust in his determined zig-zag efforts to - dislodge his rider. He rose straight up on his hind legs and for a moment - it looked as if he were going to fall over backwards. Then seemingly - rising still higher in air from his back feet he leaped forward and - downward, striking his front feet into the earth as if he would break the - saddle girth and certainly pitch the rider over his head. He squatted, - jumped, corkscrewed and sun-fished, leaped forward; then he stopped - suddenly and in demoniacal anger, as if determined not to be conquered, he - threw his head far around endeavoring to bite his assailant’s legs. - But at last the horse’s exertions wore him down and he seemed to be - reluctantly realizing that he had found his master. In the end, after a - terrible fight lasting fully seven minutes, he quieted down in submission, - and Gin Fizz thus acknowledged Roderick’s supremacy. He was subdued. - Roderick drew rein, patted him kindly, dismounted and turned him over to - the wranglers. Gin Fizz was no longer an outlaw; he suffered himself to be - led away, trembling in every limb but submissive as a well-trained - cow-pony. - </p> - <p> - Approaching the judges’ stand, Roderick received a tremendous - ovation both from the onlookers and from his brother cowboys. The - championship ribbon was pinned to his breast, and now he was shaking hands - promiscuously with friends, acquaintances and strangers. But all the while - his eyes were roaming around in search of Gail Holden. - </p> - <p> - At last he was out of the crowd, in a quiet corner, with Grant Jones, the - Shields sisters, and a few intimates. - </p> - <p> - “Where is Miss Holden?” he enquired of Barbara. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, she took poor Scotty Meisch to the hospital in an automobile. - She insisted on going.” - </p> - <p> - “He’s not badly hurt, is he?” he asked drily. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no. Just shaken up a lot. He’ll be all right in a week’s - time, Dr. Burke says.” - </p> - <p> - “Then Gail—I mean Miss Holden—didn’t see Gin Fizz - broken?” - </p> - <p> - “No. But she’ll hear about it all right,” exclaimed - Barbara enthusiastically. “My word, it was great!” And she - shook his hand again. - </p> - <p> - But the day of triumph had ended in disappointment for Roderick Warfield. - He slipped away, saddened and crestfallen. - </p> - <p> - “It was all for her I did it”—the thought kept hammering - at his brain. “And she never even stopped to see. I suppose she’s - busy now bathing the forehead of that contemptible little runt in the - hospital. Stella wouldn’t have turned me down like that.” - </p> - <p> - And he found himself thinking affectionately and longingly of the little - “college widow.” He hadn’t been to the post office for - three days. The belated letter might have arrived at last. He would go and - see at all events; and to drown thought he whistled “The Merry Widow” - waltz as he grimly stalked along. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE WIDOW - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">Y</span>ES, there was a - letter from Stella Rain. Roderick took it eagerly from the hands of the - clerk at the general delivery window. A good number of people were already - crowding into the post office from the fair grounds. But he was too hungry - for news to wait for quieter surroundings. So he turned to a vacant corner - in the waiting room and ripped open the envelope. The letter was as - follows: - </p> - <blockquote> - <p> - “Roderick:— - </p> - <p> - “I am sure that what I am about to tell you will be for your good - as well as my own. It seems so long ago since we were betrothed. At that - time you were only a boy and I freely confess I liked you very, very - much. I had known you during your four years in college and you were - always just splendid. But Roderick, a real love affair has come into my - life—something different from all other experiences, and when you - receive this letter I shall be Mrs. Vance Albertrum Carter. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Carter, financially, is able to give me a splendid home. He - is a fine fellow and I know you would like him. Let me be to you the - same as to the other boys of old Knox—your friend, the ‘college - widow.’ - </p> - <p> - “Very sincerely, - </p> - <p> - “Stella Rain.” - </p> - </blockquote> - <p> - Not a muscle of his face quivered as he read the letter, but at its close - he dropped both hands to his side in an attitude of utter dejection. The - blow had fallen so unexpectedly; he felt crushed and grieved, and at the - same time humiliated. But in an instant he had recovered his outward - composure. He thrust the letter into his pocket, and shouldered his way - through the throng at the doorway. He had left Badger in a stall at the - fair grounds. Thither he bent his steps, taking a side street to avoid the - crowd streaming into the town. The grandstand and surrounding buildings - were already deserted. He quickly adjusted saddle and bridle, and threw - himself on the pony’s back. - </p> - <p> - “‘She knows I would like him,’”he muttered, as he - gained the race track, the scene of his recent triumphs, its turf torn and - dented with the hoofs of struggling steers and horses, thronged but an - hour before with a wildly excited multitude but now silent and void. - “‘Like him’.” he reiterated bitterly. “Yes—like - hell.” - </p> - <p> - And with the words he set his steed at the farther rail. Badger skimmed - over it like a deer and Roderick galloped on across country, making for - the hills. - </p> - <p> - That night he did not return to the bunk house. - </p> - <p> - It was high noon next day when he showed up at the ranch. He went straight - to Mr. Shields’ office, gave in his resignation, and took his pay - check. No explanations were required—Mr. Shields had known for a - considerable time that Roderick was leaving. He thanked him cordially for - his past services, congratulated him on his championship honors at the - frontier celebration, and bade him come to the ranch home at any time as a - welcome guest. Roderick excused himself from saying good-by for the - present to the ladies; he was going to stay for a while in Encampment with - his friend Grant Jones, and would ride out for an evening visit before - very long. Then he packed his belongings at the bunk house, left word with - one of the helpers for trunk and valise to be carted into town, and rode - away. Badger was Roderick’s own personal property; he had purchased - the pony some months before from Mr. Shields, and as he leaped on its back - after closing the last boundary gate he patted the animal’s neck - fondly and proudly. Badger alone was well worth many months of hard and - oftentimes distasteful work, a horse at all events could be faithful, he - and his good little pony would never part—such was the burden of his - thoughts as he left the Shields ranch and the cowboy life behind him. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones was in Encampment, and jumped up from his writing table when - Roderick threw open the door of the shack and walked in. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, old man, this is indeed a welcome visit. Where in the wide - world have you been?” - </p> - <p> - He turned Roderick around so the light would fall upon his face as he - extended his hand in warmest welcome, and noticed he was haggard and pale. - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” said Roderick, “I have been up in the hills - fighting it out alone, sleeping under the stars and thinking matters over.” - </p> - <p> - “What does this all mean, anyway, old man? I don’t understand - you,” said Grant with much solicitude. - </p> - <p> - “Well, guess you better forget it then,” said Roderick half - abruptly. “But I owe you an apology for going away so - unceremoniously from the frontier gathering. I know we had arranged to - dine together last night But I just cleared out—that’s all. - Please do not ask me any questions, Grant, as to why and wherefore. If in - the future I should take you into my confidence that will be time enough.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, old man,” said Grant, “here is my hand. And - know now and for all time it don’t make a derned bit of difference - what has happened, I am on your side to the finish, whether it is a - desperate case of petty larceny or only plain murder.” - </p> - <p> - Grant laughed and tried to rouse his friend into hilarity. - </p> - <p> - “It is neither,” replied Roderick laconically. “All the - same I’ve got some news for you. I have quit my job.” - </p> - <p> - “At the Shields ranch?” cried Grant in astonishment. “Surely - there’s been no trouble there?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, we are all the best of friends. I am just tired of - cow-punching, and have other plans in view. Besides, remember the letter - we got pushed under the door here on the occasion of my last visit. - Perhaps I may be a bit skeered about having my hide shot full of holes, - eh, old man?” Roderick was now laughing. - </p> - <p> - But Grant looked grave. He eyed his comrade tentatively. - </p> - <p> - “Stuff and nonsense. The lunatic who wrote that letter was barking - up the wrong tree. He mistook you for the other fellow. You were never - seriously smitten in that quarter, now were you, Rod, old man?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not. Barbara Shields is a fine girl, but I never even - dreamed of making love to her. I didn’t come to Wyoming to chase - after a millionaire’s daughter,” he added bitterly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s Barbara’s misfortune not her fault,” - laughed Grant. “But I was afraid you had fallen in love with her, - just as I fell head over heels in love with Dorothy—for her own - sake, dear boy, and not for anything that may ever come to her from her - father.” - </p> - <p> - “You were afraid, do you say?” quizzed Roderick. “Have - you Mormonistic tendencies then? Do you grudge a twin to the man you - always call your best friend?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you know there’s no thought like that in my mind,” - protested Grant. “But you came on to the field too late. You see Ben - Bragdon was already almost half engaged.” - </p> - <p> - “So that’s the other fellow, is it?” laughed Roderick. - “Oh, now I begin to understand. Then things have come to a crisis - between Barbara and Bragdon.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, this is in strict confidence, Rod. But it is true. That’s - why I was a bit nervous just now on your account—I kind of felt I - had to break bad news.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t you worry on my account. Understand once and for - all that I’m not a marrying man.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we’ll see about that later on,” replied Grant, - smiling. “But I should have been real glad had you been the man to - win Barbara Shields. How jolly happy we would have been, all four - together.” - </p> - <p> - “Things are best just as they are,” said Roderick sternly. - “I wouldn’t exchange Badger, my horse out there, for any woman - in the world. Which reminds me, Grant, that I’ve come here to stay - with you for a while. Guess I can put Badger in the barn.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure—you are always welcome; I don’t have to say that. - But remember that Barbara-Bragdon matter is a dead secret. Dorothy just - whispered it to me in strictest confidence. Hard lines that, for the - editor of such an enterprising newspaper as the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>. - But the engagement is not to be announced until the Republican nomination - for state senator is put through. You know, of course, that Ben Bragdon - has consented to run against Carlisle and the smelter interests.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad to hear it And now we have an additional reason to - put our shoulders to the wheel. We’ve got to send Ben Bragdon to - Cheyenne for Barbara’s sake. Count me in politics from this day on, - old man. You see I am out of a job. This will be something worth while—to - help down that blood-sucker Grady, and at the same time secure Bragdon’s - election.” - </p> - <p> - “Ben Bragdon is the best man for Wyoming.” - </p> - <p> - “I know it. Put me on his committee right away.” - </p> - <p> - “You’ll be a tower of strength,” exclaimed Grant - enthusiastically. “The champion broncho-buster of the world—just - think of that.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick laughed loud and long. This special qualification for political - work mightily amused him. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t laugh,” Grant remonstrated, in all - seriousness. “You are a man of note now in the community, make no - mistake. You can swing the vote of every cow-puncher in the land. You are - their hero—their local Teddy Roosevelt.” - </p> - <p> - Again Roderick was convulsed. - </p> - <p> - “And by the way,” continued Grant, “I never had the - chance to congratulate you on that magnificent piece of work on Gin Fizz. - It was the greatest ever.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, we’ll let all that slide.” - </p> - <p> - “No, siree. Wait till you read my column description of the immortal - combat in the <i>Doublejack.</i>” He turned to his writing desk, and - picked up a kodak print. “Here’s your photograph—snapped - by Gail Holden on the morning of the event, riding your favorite pony - Badger. Oh, I’ve got all the details; the half-tone has already been - made. The <i>Encampment Herald</i> boys have been chasing around all day - for a picture, but I’m glad you were in hiding. The <i>Doublejack</i> - will scoop them proper this time.” - </p> - <p> - But Roderick was no longer listening. The name of Gail Holden had sent his - thoughts far away. - </p> - <p> - “How’s Scotty Meisch?” he asked—rather - inconsequentially as the enthusiastic editor thought. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Scotty Meisch? He’s all right. Slight concussion of the - brain—will be out of the hospital in about two weeks. But Miss - Holden, as it turned out, did the lad a mighty good turn in rushing him to - the hospital He was unconscious when they got there. She knew more than - Doc Burke—or saw more; or else the Doc could not deny himself the - excitement of seeing you tackle Gin Fizz. But there’s no selfishness - in Grail Holden’s make-up—not one little streak.” - </p> - <p> - In a flash Roderick Warfield saw everything under a new light, and a great - glow of happiness stole into his heart. It was not indifference for him - that had made Gail Holden miss the outlaw contest. What a fool he had been - to get such a notion into his head. - </p> - <p> - “Guess I’ll go and feed Badger,” he said, as he turned - away abruptly and left the room. - </p> - <p> - “When you come back I’ve a lot more to talk about,” - shouted Grant, resuming his seat and making a grab for his lead-pencil. - </p> - <p> - But it was several hours before Roderick returned. He had baited the pony, - watched him feed, and just drowsed away the afternoon among the fragrant - bales of hay—drowsing without sleeping, chewing a straw and thinking - all the time. - </p> - <p> - At last he strolled in upon the still busy scribe. Grant threw down his - pencil. - </p> - <p> - “Thought you had slipped away again to the hills and the starlight - and all that sort of thing. I’m as hungry as a hunter. Let’s - go down town and eat.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m with you,” assented Roderick. “But after - dinner I want to see Major Buell Hampton. Is he likely to be at home?” - </p> - <p> - “It was about Buell Hampton I was going to speak to you. Oh, you don’t - know the news.” Grant was hopping around in great excitement, - changing his jacket, whisking the new coat vigorously. “But there, I - am pledged again to secrecy—Good God, what a life for a newspaper - man to lead, bottled up all the time!” - </p> - <p> - “Then when am I to be enlightened?” - </p> - <p> - “He sent for me this morning and I spent an hour with him. He also - wanted you, but you were not to be found. He wants to see you immediately. - Tonight will be the very time, for he said he would be at home.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s all right, Grant. But, say, old fellow, I want half an - hour first with the Major—all alone.” - </p> - <p> - “Mystery after mystery,” fairly shouted the distracted editor. - “Can’t you give me at least this last news item for - publication? I’m losing scoops all the time.” - </p> - <p> - “I’m afraid you must go scoopless once again,” grinned - Roderick. “But after dinner you can do a little news-hunting on your - own account around the saloons, then join me later on at the Major’s. - That suit you?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I suppose I’ve got to submit,” replied Grant, as he - drew on his now well-brushed coat. “But all through dinner, I’ll - have you guessing, old man. You cannot imagine the story Buell Hampton’s - going to tell you. Oh, you needn’t question me. I’m ironclad—bomb-proof—as - silent as a clam.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick laughed at the mixed metaphors, and arm in arm the friends - started for their favorite restaurant. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> COUPLE of hours - later Roderick arrived at Buell Hampton’s home. The Major was alone; - there were no signs of Jim Rankin or Tom Sun; no traces of the recent - midnight toil. The room looked just the same as on the occasion of - Roderick’s last visit, now more than two months ago, except for a - curtain hanging across one wall. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton was seated before the great fireplace and notwithstanding - the season of the year had a small bed of coals burning. - </p> - <p> - “It takes the chill away, for one thing,” he explained after - greeting his visitor, “and then it gives me the inspiration of real - live embers into which to look and dream. There are so many poor people in - the world, so much suffering and so many heartaches, that one hardly knows - where to begin.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Major,” said Roderick, “I am glad to find you in - this mood. I’m one of the sufferers—or at least have been. I - have come to you for some heartache balm. Oh, I’m not jesting. - Really I came here tonight determined to give you my confidence—to - ask your advice as to my future plans.” - </p> - <p> - “I am extremely glad you feel toward me like that, my lad,” - exclaimed Buell Hampton, grasping Roderick’s arm and looking kindly - into his eyes. “I have always felt some subtle bond of sympathy - between us. I have wanted to help you at the outset of a promising career - in every way I can. I count it a privilege to be called in to comfort or - to counsel, and you will know later that I have something more for you - than mere words of advice.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is your advice I want most badly now, Major. In the first - place I have thrown up my job with Mr. Shields.” - </p> - <p> - “Tired of cow-punching?” nodded Buell Hampton with a smile. - “I knew that was coming.” - </p> - <p> - “In the second place I want to be perfectly candid with you. I have - a prospecting venture in view.” - </p> - <p> - “That I have guessed from several hints you have dropped from time - to time.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you spoke a while ago about your reserving some little - interest for me in your great gold discovery. That was mighty kind, and - rest assured I appreciate your goodness to one who only a few months ago - was a stranger to you.” - </p> - <p> - “You forget that I am a reader of character—that no kindred - souls are strangers even at a first meeting, my son.” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton spoke very softly but very clearly; his gaze rested fixedly - on Roderick; the latter felt a thrill run through him—yes, - assuredly, this great and good man had been his friend from the first - moment they had clasped hands. - </p> - <p> - “You were very good then, Major,” he replied, “in - judging me so kindly. But I am afraid that I evoked your special sympathy - and interest because of the confidences I gave you at one of our early - meetings. You will not have forgotten how I spoke in a most sacred way - about certain matters in Galesburg and what I intended to do when I had - sufficient money to carry out my plans.” - </p> - <p> - “I remember distinctly,” said the Major. “Your frank - confidence greatly pleased me. Well, has anything happened?” - </p> - <p> - “There is just one man on earth I will show this letter to, and you, - Major, are the man.” - </p> - <p> - Saying this Roderick handed over Stella Rain’s letter. - </p> - <p> - After the Major had carefully perused it and put it back in the envelope, - he reached across to Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “No,” said Roderick, “don’t give that letter back - to me. Kindly lay it on the red coals and let me see it burn to gray - ashes. I have fought this thing out all alone up in the hills, and I am - now almost glad that letter came, since it had to be. But let it vanish - now in the flames, just as I am going to put Stella Rain forever out of my - thoughts. Yesterday the receipt of this letter was an event; but from now - on I shall endeavor to regard it as only an incident.” - </p> - <p> - Silently and musingly the Major complied with Roderick’s request and - consigned the letter to the glowing embers. When the last trace had - disappeared, he looked up at Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “I will take one exception to your remarks,” he said. “Do - not think unkindly of Stella Rain, nor even attempt to put her out of your - thoughts. Her influence over you has been all for good during the past - months, and she has shown herself a very fine and noble woman in the - gentle manner in which she has broken the bonds that had tied you—bonds - impulsively and all too lightly assumed on your part, as she knew quite - well from the beginning. I have a profound admiration for your little - ‘college widow,’ Roderick, and hold her in high esteem.” - </p> - <p> - There was just the suspicion of tears in Roderick’s eyes—a - lump in his throat which rendered it impossible for him to reply. Yes; all - bitterness, all sense of humiliation, were now gone. He too was thinking - mighty kindly of sweet and gentle Stella Rain. - </p> - <p> - “Remember,” continued the Major quietly, “you told me - how she warned you that some other day another girl, the real girl, would - come along. I guess that has happened now.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick started; there was a protesting flush upon his cheek. - </p> - <p> - “Even though you may not yet fully realize it,” quietly added - the Major. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean?” faltered Roderick; the flush of offended - dignity had now turned into the blush of confusion. - </p> - <p> - The Major smiled benignantly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, my young friend, remember again that I read men’s minds - and hearts just a little. There must be some new influence in your life.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you know that—how can you say that?” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder and smiled. - </p> - <p> - “Because otherwise you would be still up among the hills alone, - young man. Your fight in the wilderness would have lasted for forty days—not - for a single night. The fever of love does not die down so suddenly - without an antidote. The resignation you have shown while we burned that - letter is not merely a negative condition of mind. There is something - positive as well.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I can’t admit that,” protested Roderick. “Or - at least I dare not allow myself to think like that,” he corrected - himself hurriedly. - </p> - <p> - “Well, we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile all is well. The - rich harvest of experience has been reaped; the fertile soil awaits the - next tillage. The important moment of every life is ‘The Now.’ - And this is what we have to think about tonight, Roderick.” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely, Major. And that is just why I opened the conversation. - As I said at the outset, you assigned me an interest in your gold mine for - a specific object that no longer exists.” - </p> - <p> - “On the contrary,” replied Buell Hampton, “I assigned it - on general principles—on the general principle of helping a worthy - young man at the critical period of starting into useful life-work. But I - may tell you also,” he laughed lightly, “that I had in my mind’s - eye valuable and important future services whereby the interest would be - paid for most adequately.” - </p> - <p> - “And these services are what?” asked Roderick, with a - delighted gleam in his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “We’ll come to that presently. Where is Grant Jones?” - </p> - <p> - “He was to follow me here in half an hour. Time’s almost up, - unless he’s on the trail of a newspaper scoop.” Roderick was - smiling happily now. - </p> - <p> - “Well, we shall await his coming. What do you say to a little music - to beguile the time?” - </p> - <p> - The Major glanced at his violin resting on a side table. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” responded Roderick, - jumping up with alacrity and handing to the master his old Cremona. - </p> - <p> - “I am glad you like music,” said Buell Hampton, as he began to - tighten his bow. “Its rhythmic cadences of tone are a language - universal. Its power is unseen but felt, captivating and enthralling alike - the cultured and the untutored. The harmony of tone enwraps the soul like - a mantle. It influences heart and intellect It may depress in saddest - tears or elevate to highest ecstasy. Music is the melody of the Gods. It - is like an ethereal mist—a soft and dainty distillation of a - thousand aromatic perfumes, inspiring and wholesome to the soul as the - morning dew is to buds and blossoms.” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke he had been gently thrumming the strings, and now he placed - the violin to his chin. Soft and plaintive melodies alternating with wild - and warring airs followed one after the other until the entire room seemed - to be quivering with melody. For fully an hour, unconscious of the passing - time, the Major entertained his guest, and concluded with a rapid surging - theme as if it were a call to battle and for greater achievements. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones had not yet arrived. Roderick recovered from the trance into - which the music had thrown him. He thanked the Major for the pleasure he - had given, then threw a glance at the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Where the deuce can he be?” he murmured. - </p> - <p> - But at the very moment the door opened, and in walked the belated editor. - </p> - <p> - “Where have you been all this time?” asked Roderick, half - petulantly. - </p> - <p> - “On the porch of course,” replied Grant. “Do you think I - was going to interrupt such divine melody?” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton smiled pleasedly while he laid down the violin on the table. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he said, “be seated, Grant, my boy. I am going - to lose no further time. I have some figures to work on tonight. This is - my first night at home, Roderick, for many weeks. Grant already knows the - story. Now I shall tell it to you.” - </p> - <p> - And straightway the Major related how Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney - Earnest had garnered the midnight harvests of gold. Then he drew aside the - curtain hanging on the wall, unlocked the stout door which it concealed, - and, to Roderick’s amazement, displayed the piled up sacks of golden - ore. - </p> - <p> - “All quite equal to the rich samples you handled here several months - ago,” said Buell Hampton, as he waved his hand toward the - accumulated treasure. - </p> - <p> - “Great Cæsar!” gasped Roderick. “There must be hundreds - of thousands of dollars there.” - </p> - <p> - “The total will run into millions, young man,” smiled the - Major. Then he closed the door, relocked it, and dropped the curtain. But - he did not resume his seat. - </p> - <p> - “Now this is where your services, and those of Grant Jones will come - in. This great wealth must be safely transported to Denver. And as I have - already explained to you tonight, I still want to guard jealously my - secret of the Hidden Valley on whose resources I may or may not draw again—this - the future must decide. All of us who are interested have abundance for - the present; we are equipped for many good works. The removal of this - large quantity of ore, without attracting public attention here, requires - good judgment on the part of men who can be absolutely trusted. You are - the men selected for the responsible duty. And remember it will be - dangerous duty should our secret leak out. The days of hold-ups are - passing in the West, but have not yet passed; for as you both know there - are still a good few desperadoes among the wilds of our Wyoming mountains.” - </p> - <p> - “My God—what loot!” murmured Roderick, glancing toward - the curtain. - </p> - <p> - “Yes—a rich loot,” acquiesced the Major. “Now you - young men will understand that your interests are my own—that while - I am delighted to share this treasure with my chosen friends, these - friends have been and continue to be quite indispensable to me. Roderick, - your question earlier in the evening is answered—you will have a - rightful share in this gold. Get ready in about a week’s time to - earn it Now go tonight. I will see you later on to unfold my plans for the - journey in closer detail.” - </p> - <p> - “Great guns,” groaned Grant Jones, as the two young men gained - the roadway. “What a newspaper story—what a scoop! And not one - damned word can be put in type.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>Y SUBTLE alchemy - of thought Roderick’s feelings toward Scotty Meisch had become - entirely changed. On the ranch he had treated the rough, uncultivated and - at times insolent youth with contempt that was scarcely concealed. He was - not of his class; and Roderick by his manner had shown that he counted - Scotty as outside the pale of good breeding—a fellow not to be - associated with except in the necessary work of roping a steer or handling - a mob of cattle. It had been almost an act of condescension on his part to - accept Scotty’s challenge to try out their respective riding - abilities at the frontier fair. Any hurt the lad might have received in - the contest was part of the day’s game, and at the moment Roderick - had treated the incident with indifference. But now he found himself - feeling quite solicitous as to the poor fellow’s condition. Of - course Gail Holden, who had interested herself in the injured cowboy, had - nothing to do with this change of sentiment—at least Roderick’s - consciousness took no cognizance of her influence in the matter. All the - same, as he walked over to the hospital on the following afternoon to - inquire about the invalid, he was conning in his mind the chances of - perhaps meeting Gail there. - </p> - <p> - However Scotty Meisch was alone when Roderick was admitted to the ward. - There was only another occupant of the long room, occupying a cot at the - farther end. The nurse as she brought Roderick to Scotty’s bedside - declared that her patient was getting along fine, and that a visit from a - friend would cheer him up and do him good. Roderick smiled as he sat down - at the foot of the bed and the nurse moved away to attend to other duties. - Except for a bandaged head the cowboy looked fairly fit. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, old man?” Roderick asked in a kindly tone. - </p> - <p> - Scotty seemed quite disconcerted by this friendly greeting. He looked - sheepish and shame-faced. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’ll be all right in no time,” he mumbled. “Expect - you think I’m a mean cuss,” he added, after a moment’s - pause, glancing at Roderick then hastily looking away again. - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t said so,” replied Roderick in a pleasant and - assuring way. - </p> - <p> - “No, I know you hain’t said it. But I’ve never, liked - you from the first time we met over at the Shield’s ranch. I don’t - know why—damned if I do. But I didn’t like you and don’t - like you now, and I’m gosh’lmighty ashamed of myself fer bein’ - so ornery.” - </p> - <p> - “You shouldn’t speak of yourself so harshly,” said - Roderick, somewhat interested in the turn the conversation was taking. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t deserve any kindness at your hands,” Meisch - went on. “I sure planned to kill you onct ‘til I found out you - weren’t sweet on Barbara Shields. Oh, I’m a low-down cuss, but - I’m ambitious. You hain’t the feller I’m after any more. - It’s that lawyer Carlisle and I’ll git him, you jist see. He’s - got to keep out of my way,” and as Scotty, with a black scowl on his - face, said this he looked the part of an avenging demon right enough. - </p> - <p> - “I know,” he continued, “Barbara is older than I am, but - I’m dead gone on her, even if she don’t know it, an’ I’ll - do things yet to that feller Carlisle.” Roderick was fairly - perplexed by these references to Barbara Shields and the disclosure of the - rough cowboy’s feelings toward his employer’s daughter. For a - moment he could not find the proper word to say. He just ventured a - platitude, kindly spoken as it was kindly intended: “Oh, you must - get over these broodings, Scotty.” - </p> - <p> - “It’s not broodings—it’s business, and I mean it,” - he muttered. “Oh, you needn’t look so darned solemn. I’ve - no more bad feelin’s agin you. But when you first came to the ranch, - you know you couldn’t ride any better than a kid. But you began - givin’ yourself airs, an’ then when I thought you were goin’ - to cut me out with Barbara I jist got plum crazy. That’s why I sent - you fair warnin’.” - </p> - <p> - A light broke in on Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “So it was you who slipped that note under Grant Jones’ door, - was it?” he asked in great surprise. - </p> - <p> - “Yas. You can know it now; who cares? But it was only later I saw I - was on a blind trail—that it was the other one you’re after—goin’ - fishin’ an’ all that sort o’ thing.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick reddened. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s all fudge too,” he exclaimed uneasily. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not so sure ‘bout that,” replied Scotty, with - a cunning look in his eyes. “‘Sides, she’s dead gone on - you, that’s a cert. She was here all yesterday afternoon, and could - speak about nothin’ else—praised yer ridin’ and allowed - she was tarnation sorry to have missed seein’ you on Gin Fizz. Which - reminds me that I’ve got to comgratulate you on the championship.” - He slipped a hand timidly and tentatively from under the bed-spread. - “Oh, I can admit myself beat when I’m beat. You’ve grown - to be a better’n rider than me. I’m only a little skinny chap - at the best, but you showed yourself strong enough to kill that great big - steer in the bull-doggin’. You’ve got me skinned, and you hold - the championship right enough. Shake.” - </p> - <p> - And Scotty at last mustered up the moral courage to extend his hand. - Roderick took it and shook it warmly. So Gail had been talking about him!—his - heart had leaped with joy. - </p> - <p> - “I’m glad to hear you speak like that, Scotty,” he said - with great cordiality. “You and I can come to be mighty good - friends.” - </p> - <p> - “Gee, but I wish I looked like you,” remarked Scotty, lapsing - into a half smile. “Shake hands again with me, won’t you?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick reached over and once more bestowed a good honest squeeze; and he - improved the occasion by begging Scotty not to indulge in evil thoughts - about killing people or anything of that sort. - </p> - <p> - “What makes you kind t’ me?” asked the lad as he looked - inquiringly at Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know that I have been particularly kind to you,” - replied Roderick. “I begin to realize that I should have been here - before now to help cheer you up a bit while convalescing.” - </p> - <p> - Scotty turned from Roderick and looking at the ceiling was silent for a - few moments. At last he said: “Expect if I’d stay here a long, - long time you’d keep on bein’ kind t’ me. Possibly you - would bring Barbara with you on some of your visits. But I know I’m - goin’ t’ get well, that’s the pity of it all. I wouldn’t - be in bed now if the doctor hadn’t said I got ter stay here for a - few days. When I’m well, why, then it’s all off with you an’ - Scotty. You won’t pay any more attention to me when I’m once - more sound as a nut an’ ridin’ range than you would a low down - coyote.” - </p> - <p> - “Why should I become indifferent to you?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no reason why you should, only you will,” replied Scotty. - “You are of the high-falutin’ an’ educated kind an’—well, - I never went to school more’n two weeks in my life. I got tired of - the educatin’ business—stole a horse and never did go back. An’ - they never caught me, nuther.” - </p> - <p> - He brightened up when he said this and laughed at his cleverness as if it - were a most pleasant remembrance. - </p> - <p> - “Where was your childhood home?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Now, right there,” replied Scotty, “is where yer - presumin’. You’re not talkin’ to me. D’ye suppose - I’m goin’ ter tell yer and have this whole business piped off - and those fellers come out here an’ pinch me for hoss-stealin’. - Not on yer life, so long as Scotty Meisch knows himself.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick smiled as he said: “Surely, Scotty, you are a very - suspicious person. I had no thought of doing what you suggest.” - </p> - <p> - “Waal,” drawled Scotty, “if you’d have been as - near goin’ to the penitentiary as often as I have, you’d learn - to keep yer mouth shut when people begin to inquire into your past hist’ry - an’ not unbosom yerself. Fact is, my hist’ry won’t stand - investigatin’. It’s fuller of thin places an’ holes than - an old-fashioned tin corn grater. You know what a grater is, don’t - you? It’s a tin bent over into a half moon an’ nailed to a - board with holes punched from inside out to make it rough. Where I come - from we used to husk new corn just as soon as it was out of the milk an’ - grate it into meal. About the only thing we had to live on was cornmeal - mush an’ milk. Wish I had some now. I’m hungrier than hell for - it.” - </p> - <p> - The primitiveness of it all rather appealed to Roderick, and he called the - nurse and asked if she wouldn’t serve the patient with some cornmeal - mush with milk for dinner that evening. - </p> - <p> - “Certainly,” she replied, “if Dr. Burke does not object,” - and went away to make inquiries. In a little while she returned and said: - “The doctor says a nice bowl of cornmeal mush and milk would be just - the thing for Mr. Meisch.” And it was so arranged. - </p> - <p> - When the nurse had gone Roderick noticed a tear trickling down the cheek - of Scotty and in order not to embarrass the boy he turned away and stood - looking out of the window. Presently Scotty said: “I wish ter hell I - was decent, that’s what I wish.” - </p> - <p> - Without turning from the window Roderick inquired: “How old are you, - Scotty?” - </p> - <p> - “Guess I’m about nineteen. I don’t know fer sure. They - never did tell me when my birthday was.” - </p> - <p> - “How would you like to go to school, Scotty? Brace up and be an - educated chap like other fellows.” - </p> - <p> - “Me learn to read an’ write?” exclaimed Scotty. “Look - here, Mr. Warfield, are you chaffin’ me? That’s what some - Englishmen called it when they meant teasin’ and so I say chaffin’. - Might as well use all the big words a feller picks up on the way.” - Roderick laughed aloud at Scotty’s odd expressions and turned to him - and said: “Scotty, you aren’t a bad fellow. You have a good - heart in you.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t know about that,” said Scotty, shaking his - head. “One time there was a feller told me that tough cusses like me - don’t have hearts—just gizzards.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said Roderick, laughing, “my time has come to go - now but I want to tell you I like you, Scotty. You seem to me to be the - making of a very decent sort of chap, and if you will be a real good - fellow and are sincere about wanting to go to school and make something of - yourself, I believe I can arrange for you to do so.” - </p> - <p> - “Honest, Mr. Warfield, honest? Are you tellin’ me the truth or - is this a sick bed jolly?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly I am telling you the truth,” replied Roderick. - “You think it all over until I come and see you again.” - </p> - <p> - “When’ll you come? Tomorrow?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’ll come tomorrow.” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Scotty, “I’ll sure look for yer.” - The next day when Roderick called, Major Buell Hampton and Grant Jones - accompanied him. They had a long talk with Scotty whose rapid recovery - showed improvement even from the previous day. After the subject had been - introduced by Roderick, who told Scotty that he had informed his friends - of the lad’s desire to go to school, Major Buell Hampton observed: - “A printing office, Mr. Meisch, is a liberal education within - itself. I have been talking this matter over with Mr. Jones, the Editor of - the <i>Dillon Doublejack,</i> and with Mr. Warfield, and we have mutually - agreed that if you are in earnest about leaving the range for a while and - will learn to read books and generally improve your mind, we shall give - you the opportunity. As soon as you are able to leave the hospital, how - would you like to go over to the little town of Dillon with Mr. Grant - Jones, this gentleman at my right, and go into his printing office?” - </p> - <p> - “You would be my devil to start in with,” said Grant, - good-naturedly. - </p> - <p> - “Guess that’d about fit me,” responded Scotty with a - grin. “I’m a sort of a devil anyway, ain’t I?” and - he looked toward Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Jones means a different kind of a devil, Scotty,” laughed - Roderick. “What Major Buell Hampton suggests to you is most - excellent advice, and I think you had better accept the offer. This job - will give you a home, and you will work in the printing office. You will - soon learn to read books, and also you will become a typesetter which, as - Major Hampton told you, is a practical education within itself and will - lead to better things and greater things along educational lines. Of - course, it may be some time before that knock on your head gets all right.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t worry about my old bean,” said Scotty with a - smile, as he touched the bandage that encircled his cranium. - </p> - <p> - Finally Scotty said he believed he would like to try the new job. “You - know, I’ve been knocked ‘round over the world an’ kicked - an’ thumped an’ had my ears cuffed an’ my shins barked - so much that I don’t hardly know what to make uv you fellers. If I - was sure you wasn’t stringin’ me an’ really meant it all - as a kindness, why, I’ll be goshdamed if I wouldn’t git up out - o’ bed this minute an’ start for Dillon. That’s what I’d - do. I ain’t no piker.” - </p> - <p> - This speech was very amusing to Grant Jones; and he assured the injured - boy that he himself was not going over to Dillon for perhaps a week, by - which time if he were attentive to the instructions of the doctor he - probably would be able to accompany him. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take you over,” said Grant, “and we’ll - batch it together so far as a place to sleep is concerned in the printing - office. There is a good boarding house just across the street where you - can get your meals.” - </p> - <p> - “Who’s goin’ ter pay for them?” asked Scotty. - “I ain’t got any money.” - </p> - <p> - “That,” said Roderick, “is what Major Buell Hampton is - going to do for you. Not only will he pay your board for one year until - your work is worth wages in the printing office, but he will also get you - some new clothes and a new pair of shoes and rig you out in good shape, - old man.” - </p> - <p> - “Gee, but you’re good to me, Major Hampton, and Warfield too. - Yer ought ter cuff my ears instead uv bein’ so all-fired kind.” - </p> - <p> - With this the loveless boy turned towards the wall and covered his face. - Both Major Hampton and Grant, as well as Roderick, were noticeably - affected, and the three walked over toward the window while Scotty was - collecting himself. - </p> - <p> - “I say,” said Grant, sotto voce, “in the language of Jim - Rankin, the worst that poor little devil will get—if he goes with me—will - be the best of it.” - </p> - <p> - Then the visitors turned round to say good-by. The invalid had had about - enough excitement for one day. - </p> - <p> - Just as they were departing, Scotty beckoned Roderick to his side. - </p> - <p> - “Stop a minute or two with me—alone,” he whispered. - “I wants ter tell you somethin’.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick excused himself to the others; he would join them on the porch - presently. - </p> - <p> - Scotty’s face wore a keen eager look. - </p> - <p> - “Say, if I helps you,” he began, “I’ll be doin’ - a good turn, won’t I, to the girl that saved my life by hurryin’ - me along to this ‘orspital here?” - </p> - <p> - “I believe she will count it as a favor,” replied Roderick. - “How can you help me, Scotty?” - </p> - <p> - “An’ I’ll be doin’ you a favor,” continued - the lad, without answering the direct question, “if I do a good turn - to your friend with the name that reminds me of Bull Durham terbaccer?” - </p> - <p> - “Buell Hampton,” laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “The Major you also call him. Wal, I can drop him a word o’ - warnin’ too.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he has never a thought about love affairs,” replied - Roderick, smiling. - </p> - <p> - “But this is a warnin’ of another kind. Listen.” And - Scotty drew himself up to a sitting posture on the bed. “Come - nearer.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick complied; his ear was close to Scotty’s lips. The cowboy - spoke in a whisper. - </p> - <p> - “The Major’s got a pile o’ rich ore stored in his house. - There’s a bunch o’ fellers agoin’ to get it, an’ - they’ll shoot to kill as sure as God made hell.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick mastered his emotion of surprise. - </p> - <p> - “When is this to take place, Scotty?” he asked quietly. - </p> - <p> - “Any night after tonight. Tonight they’ve fixed to square - accounts with some sheep herders over Jack Creek way. Then they’re - goin’ for the Major.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick gripped the other’s hand. - </p> - <p> - “Scotty, you have done me the biggest service in the world,” - he said earnestly. “But one thing more—who are these men?” - </p> - <p> - “I dassn’t tell. They’d plug me full o’ holes the - moment I got out o’ here.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick felt perplexed. He did not like to press for information that - might seem to threaten danger for Scotty himself. - </p> - <p> - The latter was watching his face furtively. - </p> - <p> - “I know you’re straight—you’ll never give a feller - like me away if I tell you one name.” - </p> - <p> - “Never. You may stake your life on that.” - </p> - <p> - “Wal, I don’t care what happens to him anyway. He’s a - bad egg—a rotten bad egg clean through. And I’m done with him - from now right on. I’m goin’ to take that printin’ devil’s - job and act on the square.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s right, Scotty. And we’ll all help you to get - clear of bad companions and bad influences. So it’s all right for - you to give me that name.” - </p> - <p> - “An’ she’ll be pleased too, won’t she, that Holden - young lady?” - </p> - <p> - “She’ll be always grateful to you for saving Buell Hampton.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s ‘nuff for me. The leader o’ that gang is—” - </p> - <p> - Scotty paused a moment; Roderick waited, silent and still. - </p> - <p> - “Bud Bledsoe,” whispered the lad. “Now I’ve - stopped hatin’ you, I’ve sort o’ turned to hatin’ - him and all his kind. But you’ll not give me away, Warfield? I wants - ter hold down that printin’ job—that editor feller will make a - man of me, that’s just how I feel.” - </p> - <p> - “And just as we all feel,” said Roderick. “Now, Scotty, - you must lie down. Let me fix your pillow for you. You’ve got some - fever yet, I can see. You must rest, old fellow. You look tired.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I’m doggoned tired,” murmured the lad wearily, as - he sank back on the pillow and closed his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “He is sleeping now, I think,” said Roderick to the nurse as - he passed quietly out of the ward. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER a brief - consultation on the hospital veranda, Buell Hampton, Roderick and Grant - decided on an immediate consultation with Jim Rankin. They found the - ex-sheriff busy among the horses down at the brush stable over the hill - from the Major’s home. - </p> - <p> - Jim received the startling news with great complacency. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve been expectin’ tumultuous news o’ this kind - for quite a while,” he said. “Oh, I’m up to all the - didoes o’ both the cowpunchers and the sheep herders. Never mind how - I got to know them things. I just know ‘em, and that’s ‘nuff - said, good and plenty, for all present. If the cowpunchers are going to - Jack Creek tonight, there will be hell a-poppin’.” - </p> - <p> - “Not murder, surely?” exclaimed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Wal, there’s no sayin’ how them things end,” - replied Jim. “You see it’s this way. The cowpunchers claim - they’re afeard the sheep’ll cross over Jack Creek, an’ - they’ll go armed with great big clubs as well as shootin’ - irons. They’ll undertake, I’m ‘lowin’, ter kill - with their dubs a whole lot o’ sheep, maybe the hull kit an’ - bilin’ uv ‘em, shoot up the mess wagons where the sheep - herders are sleepin’, an’ the chances are nine outer ten that - they’ll kill the herders an’ then jist nachur’ly burn - the wagons an’ the corpses, kill the shepherd dogs too an’ - throw them on ter the fire and generally do a hellish piece uv intimidatin’ - work. They’ll burn the wagons ter hide evidence uv their guilt. You - bet they’ll git keerless with their artillery.” - </p> - <p> - “Good God!” murmured Roderick in horror and surprise. - </p> - <p> - “We must stop this murderous business,” remarked Buell - Hampton. - </p> - <p> - “And get hold of Bud Bledsoe before he can do further harm,” - suggested Grant Jones. “Let’s hunt up the sheriff.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, just go slow, g’nlemen, please,” replied Jim, - expectorating an inconvenient mouthful of tobacco juice and wiping his - lips with the back of his hand. “Jist you leave this business to me. - I’ve been prognosticatin’ trouble for months back, an’ - know jist how to act. No sheriff is wanted—at least not the bum - sheriff we’ve got at the present time. He needs no warnin’ - from us—mark my words. And even if he didn’t chance to know - what we might be tellin’ him, when he did know, it would be his - pertic’lar business to arrive after the killin’—that’s - politics. Do you git me, Major?” - </p> - <p> - “I’m afraid I get you all right, Jim,” replied Buell - Hampton gravely. - </p> - <p> - “Well, let us go and see Ben Bragdon,” proposed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Not on your life,” replied Jim excitedly. “Hell, man, - he’s the attorney fur the cattle fellers.” - </p> - <p> - “He is a gentleman,” exclaimed Roderick, “and if he is - the attorney for the cow men, so much the better. He would advise the - bosses of this contemplated lawbreaking raid and murder, and of course - they would immediately take steps to keep the cowboys from committing such - wickedness.” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin’s black eyes fairly snapped as he looked Roderick - straight in the face and exclaimed: “Roderick, are yer as big a - tenderfoot as that? Don’t yer know the cowboys don’t go out - murderin’ uv their own accord on these here cut-throat raids? They - go, by gunnies, ‘cause they’re paid by the higher ups ter do - these dastardly killin’ acts. Why, gosh ‘lmighty, Ben Bragdon - draws a monthly retainer fee uv several figures ter protect the higher ups - an’ there yer are, plain as a handle on a gourd. No, by gunnies, - while the Major and Mr. Jones keep guard here, you an’ me, Roderick, - will have ter go alone an’ jist nachurally take the law into our own - hands. We’ll have plenty uv shootin’ irons an’ loco the - cowboys by shootin’ an’ wingin’ two or three uv ‘em, - Bud Bledsoe in pertic’lar. Oh, you bet I know how to do this job,” - and he chuckled reassuringly. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t,” replied Roderick. “I don’t - pretend to know these cold-blooded murdering ways of the West or anything - of this lawless feud that is going on between the cattlemen and the sheep - men. However, I will go with you, Jim. When shall we start?” - </p> - <p> - “Immediately after supper. There’s no moon and it looks a - little squally. It will be darker than a stack of black cats, but by - gunnies, I know the way. All you’ve got to do is to have yer shootin’ - irons ready, follow me and shoot when I shoot Now I guess there’s no - need my onbosomin’ myself any more,” he added with a - comprehensive glance around. - </p> - <p> - Roderick was unable to repress a smile. - </p> - <p> - “All right, Jim, I’m game, and ready for the lark.” - </p> - <p> - “By gunnies, it ain’t no lark howsumever; I know yer game,” - replied Rankin. “You bet I kin tell a scrapper when I see him. Now - not a word to anyone else besides us four—exceptin’ of course, - Boney Earnest I’m goin’ over to the smelter right now, and - will arrange for him to be here tonight to help the Major.” - </p> - <p> - “And Tom Sun?” asked Roderick, anxiously. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, he’s in no danger. Them fellers are after his herders but - not after the big man. They know better—the law would be poppin’ - like hell if they ever made the mistake o’ hurtin’ one o’ - the higher-ups.” - </p> - <p> - “Besides, Mr. Sun is at Rawlins today on business,” observed - Buell Hampton. “He is riding, and is to come straight here. But he - told me not to expect him until midnight.” - </p> - <p> - “Which the cowpunching gang know quite well,” said Jim - emphatically. “You bet they are playin’ up tonight jist - because they cal’clate on his absence. Now we’ll be a-movin’. - Major, get your rifles well oiled—you may need ‘em. My ridin’ - hoss is over at the livery barn, and you an’ me, Roderick, will - start from there at eight o’clock sharp. Oh, you bet we’ll - have tumultuous doin’s. Jist you an’ me ‘ll show these - killin’ cusses they’re holdin’ bob-tailed flushes fur - oncet. They won’t show up here for the gold ore after we’re - through with ‘em. Reminds me uv the old sheriff days, boys. An’ - its ‘lmighty good to be back to them,” he added, pushing his - hat back on his head determinedly. - </p> - <p> - “I think we must put you up for sheriff again next election,” - laughed Grant Jones. - </p> - <p> - “That’s just what I’m prognosticatin’,” - replied the rugged old frontiersman, with a grim smile. “Folks will - see who’s the real sheriff tonight—me or that white-livered - double-dealin’ cur. Mills.” And he strode away in the - direction of the smelting plant, chewing his tobacco cud vigorously. - </p> - <p> - At the appointed hour that night Roderick was at the livery barn, and got - ready his faithful horse, Badger. He had only waited a few minutes when - Jim Rankin made his appearance. They were soon in their saddles and headed - for Jack Creek. - </p> - <p> - The night was very dark, and despite the would-be sheriff’s vaunted - knowledge of the country they lost themselves several times, and on one - occasion had to retrace their steps four or five miles. Wherever it was - possible they urged their horses on as rapidly as was prudent, but often - for long distances it was a case of picking their way at a walking pace - through the inky blackness. It was within an hour of midnight when at last - they turned from the main road to the westward along the north bank of - Jack Creek, which was the dividing line between the flockmasters’ - and the cattle men’s range. Rankin explained that the bands of sheep - were being held about two miles on to the westward. - </p> - <p> - They had not gone very far up the creek when they were startled by the - sight of two great fires burning like haystacks. They spurred their horses - and hurried as fast as possible over the uncertain and little used road, - and soon came upon a weird and terrible scene. Some three or four hundred - sheep had been clubbed to death and lay like scattered boulders over the - ground, while the two covered wagons where the herders cooked their meals - and likewise slept were fast burning to ashes. - </p> - <p> - “By gunnies,” said Jim Rankin, “we didn’t get here - quick enough. They’ve sure done their hellish work. I’ll bet - there’s two sheep herders an’ two shepherd dogs bumin’ - to cinders in them there fires. It’s hell, ain’t it? They beat - us to it for sure. But usually them doin’s don’t come off - ‘til one or two o’clock in the mornin’.” - </p> - <p> - “Where are the balance of the sheep?” inquired Roderick. - “I thought you said there were several thousand.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, boy,” said Jim, “they’re chasin’ down - toward Saratoga as if the wolves were after them. There’s ‘bout - three thousand sheep in each band an’ there were two bands uv - ‘em.” - </p> - <p> - Just then four masked men rode up out of the darkness toward the burning - outfits, but quickly checked their horses when they saw the two mounted - strangers. - </p> - <p> - “Don’t shoot, Roderick, don’t shoot,” whispered - Jim. “By gunnies, they’ve got us covered. Don’t lift - your artillery. They’ll kill us sure if yer do.” Then he - raised his trembling voice in a shout: “Hey, you fellers, we seed - somethin’ burnin’ here. Wonder what ‘tis?” - </p> - <p> - A deep guttural voice came back: “You two ‘ll find it a dam - sight more healthy to git back on the main road an’ tend to your own - business. You have got jist one minute to start.” - </p> - <p> - “Come on,” said Jim, agitatedly, whirling his horse, putting - spurs to him and leaving Roderick trailing far behind. - </p> - <p> - Roderick rode along toward the main road which they had just left after - crossing over Jack Creek. He was disgusted with it all and with Jim Rankin’s - poltroonery in particular. The sight he had seen by the gleaming light of - the burning wagons was ghastly. The innocent, helpless sheep that had been - clubbed to death through the selfishness of men. He was in no mood for - hilarity. It was a sight that would remain with him and haunt him. Then - too, he had received a new measure of Jim Rankin. - </p> - <p> - But Roderick Warfield had all the blind audacity of youth and did not give - the old westerner Jim Rankin the credit he deserved. Jim Rankin was versed - in the ways of these western transgressors, and knew the price he and - Roderick would have to pay for “butting in” on a quarrel - between the cattle and the sheep men that was no direct concern of - outsiders. This price was death, swift and merciless. - </p> - <p> - When Roderick reached the highway he pulled his horse to the right toward - the bridge that spanned Jack Creek. As he approached the bridge he heard - someone say: “Here he comes now.” The voice was not Jim Rankin’s. - </p> - <p> - “Hello,” came a call in yet another voice, just as his horse - reached the bridge. - </p> - <p> - “Come on, Roderick,” cried Jim Rankin, “I’m here.” - </p> - <p> - “Who’s with you?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “They’ll tell you,” replied Jim. - </p> - <p> - Roderick rode up and found three men with drawn revolvers, and one of them - proved to be the sheriff of the county and the others his deputies. - </p> - <p> - “Gentlemen,” said the sheriff, “you are accused of - killing a lot of sheep up here on Jack Creek and burning a couple of - wagons, and I arrest you in the name of the law.” - </p> - <p> - “What does this mean?” inquired Roderick, hotly. - </p> - <p> - “It means,” said the sheriff, “you fellers will fork - over your shootin’ irons quietly and submit to being handcuffed.” - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Mills,” said Rankin, resentfully, “you’re - goin’ too dangnation far, by gunnies. I’ll be responsible for - young Warfield, here. I’ll go his bail. Dangnation, don’t - press me any furder or I’ll git peevish.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” replied Sheriff Mills, hesitatingly, “who will - be responsible for you?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, Gosh’lmighty, Mills, we’ve know’d each other - fur twenty-five years. You go my security yourself or by the great horn - spoon you’ll not kerry Rawlins precinct next election.” - </p> - <p> - “Watch that young feller,” instructed the sheriff to his - deputies. “Ride over this way, Jim, where we can speak privately.” - </p> - <p> - A few moments later Rankin called out: “Come on, Roderick, let’s - be goin’. It’s gettin’ late. Everything’s all - right.” And together they headed their horses for Encampment and - rode on in the darkness. - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin presently said: “Well, by gunnies, Tom Sun has leastways - got to hand it to us fur tryin’.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick made no immediate reply and they continued their way in silence. - </p> - <p> - At last Roderick spoke. - </p> - <p> - “You were mighty friendly with that white-livered, double-dealing - cur, the sheriff—that’s what you called him a few hours ago.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but he wasn’t present with a gun in his hand,” - replied Jim. “He sure ‘nuff had the drop on us.” - </p> - <p> - “How did you square him then?” - </p> - <p> - “Politics,” came the sententious answer. “And I guess I - put one over him at that. Somebody’s goin’ to git a dangnation - throw-down, an’ don’t you forgit it.” - </p> - <p> - An hour later they descended at the livery barn. The sky had cleared, and - they had ridden fast under the starlight. Roderick looked the ex-sheriff - squarely in the face. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Jim Rankin, the next move in the game is going to be mine. Get - your three fours hitched up at once, and bring them down one by one as - fast as they are ready, to the Major’s. We load that ore tonight, - and start for the railroad before daylight. Do you get me, my friend?” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin for a moment looked into Roderick’s eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I guess I git you, Mr. Warfield,” he replied, as he meekly - turned away toward the stables where the twelve powerful draught horses - had been held in preparedness for a week past. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>AYLIGHT had not - yet broken when the three four-horse wagons were loaded and ready for the - road. Not a moment had been lost after Roderick’s arrival at the - Major’s. That night he had had a grim glimpse of what western - lawlessness among the mountains might mean, and had speedily convinced the - Major that his policy of instant departure was the wise one. Bud Bledsoe - and his gang would rest at least one day, perhaps two or three days, after - their devilish exploit with the sheep-herders, and when they came - reconnoitering around the blockhouse in which the ore was stored it would - be to find the rich treasure gone. The teams by that time would be at - Walcott, or at least well on the way to their destination. - </p> - <p> - The little bunch of friends had set to work with a will. Jim Rankin got - the first team down within half an hour, and by that time the Major, Tom - Sun, who had duly turned up from Rawlins, Boney Earnest, Grant Jones and - Roderick had a goodly pile of the one-hundred-pound ore sacks stacked in - front of the house, ready to be lifted into the wagon. Without a hitch or - delay the work proceeded, and now that the loading was completed, and the - rifles and ammunition had been stowed under the drivers’ seats, the - tension of suppressed excitement was relaxed. Pipes were alight during a - final consultation. - </p> - <p> - The three tough old westerners, it was settled, were to drive. Boney had - announced his absolute determination to come along—the smelter could - go to blazes, he had applied some days before for a week’s leave - anyways and if W. B. Grady chose to buck because he took it now, well he - could “buck good and plenty, and be damned to him.” Tom Sun - was keeping in stern repression his wrath against the miscreants who had - massacred his sheep and probably killed his herders as well; it would be - stern satisfaction for him to have a fight on the road, to settle accounts - with Bud Bledsoe by the agency of a rifle bullet. Jim Rankin, after his - quiet taking-down by Roderick at the livery stable, had recovered his - accustomed self-assurance and bellicosity, and was “prognosticating” - all manner of valorous deeds once it came to guns out on both sides and - fair shooting. - </p> - <p> - While these three would manage the teams, Buell Hampton, Grant and - Roderick would scout ahead on their riding horses, and provide a rear - guard as well so that the alarm of any attempted pursuit could be given. - Badger had been fed and rested, and looked fit for anything despite the - night’s ride to Jack Creek. - </p> - <p> - Jumping into the saddle Roderick, accompanied by Grant Jones, who knew the - road well, led the way. The wagons followed, while the Major delayed just - long enough to lock up the house, including the now empty inner chamber, - and clear away the traces of the night’s work. The whole cavalcade - was three or four miles out of Encampment before the sun had risen and the - townsfolk were astir. - </p> - <p> - The distance to be traversed was just fifty miles, and that night the - first camp was made beyond Saratoga. No public attention had been drawn to - the wagons; none of the people encountered on the road or at stopping - places had any reason to think that these ordinary looking ore-sacks held - gold that was worth a king’s ransom. There had been no signs of - ambushed robbers ahead nor of pursuit in the rear. But that night, while a - few hours of sleep were snatched, watch was kept in turn, while each - sleeper had his rifle close at hand. With the first glimmer of dawn the - journey was resumed. - </p> - <p> - It was well on in the afternoon when the Major spied, some distance out on - the open country to the left, the dust raised by a small party of - horsemen. He rode up to the wagons to consult his friends. He had just - pointed out the sign to Jim Rankin, when the riders disappeared behind a - rocky ridge. - </p> - <p> - Jim had been shading his eyes while gazing fixedly. He now dropped his - hand. - </p> - <p> - “By gunnies, they are after us right enough,” he exclaimed. - “That was Bud Bledsoe in the lead—I know his ginger-colored - pony. They’re going to cross Pass Creek lower down, then they will - swing around into White Horse Canyon, coming back to meet us after we’ve - crossed the bridge and are on the long steep hill just beyond. Dang me if - that ain’t their game.” - </p> - <p> - The Major rode ahead to warn Grant and Roderick. The bridge over Pass - Creek was only three miles from Walcott. If the three scouts could gain - the crest of the steep slope, before the robbers, the advantage of - position would be theirs. - </p> - <p> - Roderick grasped the plan of campaign in an instant, and, digging his - spurs into Badger’s flank, galloped off full pelt. Grant and the - Major followed at the best pace of their less mettled ponies. - </p> - <p> - It was less than a mile to the bridge, and Badger was soon breasting the - hill at a swinging canter. Just before reaching the summit Roderick - descended, and throwing the bridle over the pony’s head tethered it - in cowboy fashion. “I’ll be back in a minute, old fellow,” - he said, as he gave Badger an affectionate pat on the neck. Then, rifle in - hand, he walked up the remaining few yards of the slope, and cautiously - peered over the crest into White Horse Canyon. - </p> - <p> - Great Scott! seven or eight horsemen away down at the foot of the - descending incline were just scrambling out of the waste of cacti and - joshuas on to the roadway! The first comers were waiting for the - stragglers, and a pow-wow was evidently being held. Roderick gripped the - butt of his rifle. But he heard the clatter of hoofs behind him, and drew - back for the time being. Waving a cautioning hand to Buell Hampton and - Grant as they approached, he gave the news in a few words. It took only a - minute to tie all three horses securely to the low-growing grease-wood - that here skirted the road—the animals, although well-trained, might - be stampeded by the shooting. Then, rifles in hand, Roderick, Grant and - the Major crept up to the crest of the ridge. Before reaching it the sharp - tattoo of horse hoofs smote their ears. - </p> - <p> - “That’s Bud Bledsoe in the lead on the ginger pony,” - exclaimed Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - Nothing more was needed by Roderick; if Bud Bledsoe was there, the gang - were lawbreakers and bent on further villainy. - </p> - <p> - “Bang!” went Roderick’s rifle; and the ginger-colored - horse plunged forward on his knees, and then rolled over, kicking wildly - in the air. Two horses behind stumbled over the obstruction, and instantly - there was a confused heap of struggling beasts and men. Four other riders - had reined in their steeds just in time, and were standing stock-still on - the highway. - </p> - <p> - “Keep it up, but don’t kill,” muttered the Major, just - before he fired his own rifle. Almost at the same instant came “bang” - from Grant’s shoulder, and a second shot by Roderick. - </p> - <p> - At this fusillade the four cowboys still mounted jumped their horses into - the sage brush and cacti and were gone like a streak across country. One - of the fallen horses had struggled to its feet, and a figure leaped into - the saddle. It was Bud Bledsoe—Roderick knew him by his gorilla-like - figure. Leaving his two fallen comrades to their fate, the leader raced - after the fleeing quartette. Three rifle bullets whizzed past him to - quicken his pace. Then the marksmen on the ridge stood erect. - </p> - <p> - Two motionless human figures lay on the road at the bottom of the hill; - the ginger horse had rolled in among the bushes in his death throes, the - other was limping along with a broken leg. Roderick ran down the slope on - foot, leaving the others to follow with the horses. - </p> - <p> - The first man he reached was dead, his neck broken by the fall. Roderick - recognized him at a glance—for when once riding the range with a - bunch of cowboys they had passed a lone rider on a mountain trail and the - name had been passed around—Butch Cassidy, a horse rustler, and an - outlaw of the hills. The other fellow was bleeding from a wound in his - breast; there was a gulping gurgle in his throat. He had evidently been - hit by Grant’s first bullet, which had been fired too quick for any - heed to be paid to Buell Hampton’s merciful injunction. Just as - Roderick raised the limp hand the wounded man opened his eyes; then he - uttered one great sob and died. - </p> - <p> - A few minutes later bullets from Grant’s revolver put the injured - horses out of pain. - </p> - <p> - In the dusk of the falling night the dead men were borne on the ore wagons - into Walcott. The station agent recognized the second corpse as that of a - notorious gambler and hold-up artist, an old associate of Big-Nosed George - in early days. The railroad man treated the bodies as trash, but - condescended to wire down the line for the coroner and the sheriff. The - car, which had been ordered several days before, was on the side track - awaiting the ore shippers, and he counselled that there should be no delay - in loading, as a through freight for Denver was due shortly after - midnight. So the fight was forgotten, and the work of transferring the ore - sacks from the wagons was soon in progress, all present, even the Major, - lending a hand. - </p> - <p> - After the task had been completed, the bill of lading prepared and all - charges prepaid, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, Tom Sun and Grant Jones - boarded the car. They were well provided with blankets for bedding and - still carried their rifles. Buell Hampton and Roderick remained to arrange - for the sending back of the teams and saddle horses; they would follow on - the morning passenger train, and the whole party would reach Denver - practically at the same hour next night. - </p> - <p> - No further incident occurred. But not until the carload of ore had been - duly delivered, sampled, and weighed did the four faithful and well-armed - guards relax their vigilance. The purchasers were the Globe Smelter - Company, with whose manager Boney Earnest had personal acquaintance. - </p> - <p> - While secrecy was exercised concerning this remarkable ore shipment, yet - the news gradually crept out and it became known that something phenomenal - had occurred. The newspaper reporters hovered around the Globe Smelter - endeavoring to pick up a few crumbs of information. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton and his friends were registered at the Brown Palace Hotel - where they had arranged for connecting rooms. Two days afterwards Buell - Hampton announced to his friends, in the privacy of his room, that the - returns were all he had anticipated. The money had been duly deposited to - his credit, and now he wrote checks running into five figures for each of - his friends, and admonished them separately and collectively to deposit - the money in some Denver bank to their individual credit, then return to - their Encampment homes and each continue his avocation as if nothing had - happened to improve their financial affairs. - </p> - <p> - “As for myself,” said the Major, “I have a mission to - perform, and I probably will not return to Encampment for a matter of - fifteen or twenty days.” - </p> - <p> - That night Major Hampton left for New York carrying with him certified - checks for a large sum of money, and on the following morning the others - took train for Wyoming. Within a few days all had resumed their accustomed - routine. Jim Rankin was back on his stage coach making his usual trips; - Boney Earnest, after an acrimonious scrap with Grady over the question of - absence without leave, was in his old place before the blast furnace; Tom - Sun regained his home at Split Rock, north of Rawlins, Grant Jones - returned to his editorial duties, Roderick to his preparations for a - prospecting expedition. - </p> - <p> - Both Grant and Roderick had brought with them checks for a few thousand - dollars, which they deposited in the local bank to the great surprise of - the cashier. And even before leaving the bank they began to realize that - their importance in the community had already gone up a hundred per cent. - Such is the prompt efficacy of a substantial bank balance! - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ITHIN less than a - year of his leaving Keokuk to play football with the world, as Uncle Allen - Miller had phrased it, Roderick Warfield had established himself in a - sound financial position. So far he had not been made the “pig-skin” - in life’s game. While he was filled with grateful feeling toward - Buell Hampton, and recognized the noble generosity of his friend, he had - at the same time the satisfaction of feeling that he had done at least a - little toward earning a share in the proceeds derived from the carload of - rich ore. And once he found his own mine, his father’s mine, it - would be his turn to follow the golden rule and share liberally with those - around him. - </p> - <p> - When he had handed in the Denver check at the local bank, he had already - found a new deposit to his credit there—a sum of money to which he - had never given a thought from the moment it was won. This was the $450 - coming to him as the World’s Championship prize in the rough-riding - and outlaw-busting competition at the frontier celebration. It was with - intense delight that Roderick decided to apply this windfall to finally - clearing off his New York liabilities. He felt like walking even a bit - more erect than ever now that he would owe not a dollar in the world. - After luncheon he returned to the bank and secured eastern drafts. - </p> - <p> - But there was a balance remaining, and Roderick at once thought of the lad - who had not only suffered defeat in the contest but injury as well. Major - Hampton had already undertaken the provision of clothes and other outfit - for Scotty Meisch. Roderick thought for a moment; then he walked across to - the Savings Bank and started an account in the cowboy’s name with a - credit of $100. He carried the little pass-book with him to the hospital. - </p> - <p> - He found Scotty reclining in a long chair on the veranda. The invalid was - convalescent, although looking pale from the unwonted confinement. His - face brightened with joy when Roderick, looking down with a pleasant - smile, patted him on the shoulder and gripped his hand. - </p> - <p> - “Gee, but it’s good to see you again,” murmured the boy. - “It seems like a hell of a time since you were here. But I got the - postcard you sent me from Denver.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Scotty, as I wrote you, Grant Jones and I, also the Major, - have all been to Denver. We were called away unexpectedly or would have - paid you a parting visit. But I’ve come around at once, you see. - Grant Jones and I got back only this afternoon. Mr. Jones is going to take - you over to Dillon next week. Meanwhile I have brought you this little - book, old fellow.” - </p> - <p> - Scotty glanced at the pass-book, wonderingly and uncomprehendingly. He - turned it over and over. - </p> - <p> - “An’ what’s this piece o’ leather goods for?” - he asked. - </p> - <p> - “That means you’ve got $100 to your credit in the Savings - Bank, Scotty—the consolation prize, you remember, in the - broncho-busting contest.” - </p> - <p> - “Consolation prize be damned. There was no consolation prize.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, there was.” - </p> - <p> - “Not by a danged sight You’ve gone an’ done this, - Warfield.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I got the big money, and hasn’t the winner the right to - give off a bit of it as a consolation prize? Just stuff that book in your - pocket, Scotty, and may the hundred dollars soon roll up to a thousand, - old fellow.” - </p> - <p> - “Great guns, but you’re powerful kind to me—all of you,” - murmured the cowboy. There were tears in his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “And by the way, Scotty,” continued Roderick, talking gaily, - “that reminds me, I’ve got to go across to Englehart’s - store and take over that grand championship saddle he was showing in his - window—Banker Buck Henry’s special prize, you remember. I had - almost forgotten about it. Why, it’s mine—stamped leather, - solid silver mounts, and all the gewgaw trimmings. How will I look riding - the ranges with that sort of outfit?” - </p> - <p> - “You’ll look just grand,” exclaimed Scotty admiringly. - “But you won’t use that on the range. It will be your courtin’ - outfit.” - </p> - <p> - Scotty smiled wanly, while Roderick laughed in spite of himself. The - invalid felt emboldened. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, she’s been over here every day during your absence,” - he continued. “Gee, but she’s pretty, and she’s kind! - And let me tell you somethin’ else. Barbara’s been a-visitin’ - me too. Just think o’ that.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, all the girls are good, Scotty—and Wyoming girls the best - of all,” he added enthusiastically. There was safety in the general - proposition. - </p> - <p> - “Barbara an’ I has made it all up,” continued the lad, - still smiling, wistfully yet happily. “She’s dead stuck on - that lawyer chap, Bragdon, and we shook hands over it. I wished her luck, - and promised to vote for Bragdon at the election for state senator. An’ - what do you think she did when I told her that?” he asked, raising - himself in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “She said ‘Bully for you,’ I bet,” replied - Roderick. “She did more. She kissed me—fair and square, she - kissed me,” Scotty put his finger-tips to his forehead. “Oh, - only there,” he added, half regretfully. “But I’ll never - forget the touch of her lips, her sweet breath in my face.” And he - patted the spot on his brow in appreciative reminiscence. - </p> - <p> - “That’s politics, as Jim Rankin would say,” laughed - Roderick, more to himself than to the cowboy. - </p> - <p> - “Wal, it’s the sort o’ politics I like,” replied - Scotty. “If she’d even only cuff my ears every time I voted, I’d - be a repeater for Bragdon at the polls.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, we’ll both vote the Bragdon ticket, Scotty. A girl like - Barbara Shields is worth making happy, all the time. And later on, old - fellow, the proper girl will be coming along for you.” - </p> - <p> - “Looks as if she was comin’ along for you right now,” - grinned Scotty, glancing toward the steps of the veranda. - </p> - <p> - And a moment later Roderick was shaking hands with another hospital - visitor, gazing into Gail Holden’s blue eyes, and receiving her warm - words of greeting over his safe return. - </p> - <p> - “We heard something about a fight near Walcott, you know, Mr. - Warfield—about a mysterious carload of ore. Two hold-up men were - killed, and your name was mentioned in connection with the affair. I felt - quite anxious until Mr. Meisch received his postcard from Denver. But you - never thought of writing to me,” she added, reproachfully. - </p> - <p> - “I did not dare,” murmured Roderick in a low tone intended - only for her ears. - </p> - <p> - But Scotty heard and Scotty saw. - </p> - <p> - “This is the very hour the nurse says I’ve got to sleep,” - he said. “You’d better be clearin’ out, War-field.” - </p> - <p> - “And me too?” asked Gail, laughingly. - </p> - <p> - “The pair o’ you,” replied the invalid, as he lay back - languorously and closed his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “I guess we’d better be going,” laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps Mr. Meisch is awake enough yet,” said Gail, “to - hear that I brought over a chicken for his supper.” - </p> - <p> - “Tell the nurse I’ll have it fried, please,” yawned - Scotty, as, without opening his eyes, he turned over his head in - slumberous fashion. - </p> - <p> - “Come away then, Miss Holden,” said Roderick. “I suppose - you rode over on Fleetfoot. I’ll saddle Badger, and we’ll have - a gallop across country.” - </p> - <p> - “No doggoned politics there,” exclaimed the cowboy, awaking - suddenly, as he watched the handsome couple disappear. “That’s - the real thing, sure.” - </p> - <p> - The summer days glided past. The Major had returned from New York and had - quietly resumed his old life of benevolence among the poor. But soon there - seemed to be no more poverty in or around Encampment. Roderick, keeping - the mining town as his headquarters, made a series of expeditions into the - mountains, systematically searching every range and every known canyon. He - would be absent for several days at a time, sometimes with Jim Rankin for - a companion, Grant Jones once or twice accompanying him, but latterly with - Boney Earnest as his <i>fidus Achates.</i> For Boney had severed his - connection finally with the Smelter Company, after a quarrel with Grady - that had ended in the blast furnace foreman knocking his employer down. - Such is the wonderful independence that comes from a bank balance—even - a secret bank balance that may not command the deference accorded to known - financial prosperity. - </p> - <p> - Between his prospecting expeditions Roderick spent an occasional evening - either at the Conchshell Ranch or at the Major’s, with a flying call - now and then at the Shields home, especially when Grant was on one of his - periodical visits to Encampment. - </p> - <p> - The month was now September. The rugged mountains still guarded their - secret, and Roderick was beginning to fear that the quest for his father’s - mine was indeed going to be a vain one. But there came an interlude to his - range-riding and gold-dreaming. The state conventions were approaching. - Even love became a minor matter to politics. The air was surcharged with - electricity. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>T BREAKFAST table - one morning Roderick noticed in the <i>Encampment Herald</i> a featured - article about the forthcoming Republican convention. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes,” replied Grant, when Roderick called his attention - to it, “this convention trouble has been brewing for some time. - Personally, as you know, I am a Republican, even though my paper, the <i>Dillon - Doublejack</i>, is a dyed-in-the-wool Democratic organ.” - </p> - <p> - “What trouble,” asked Roderick, “can there possibly be - about a county convention?” - </p> - <p> - “It’s a senatorial convention,” explained Grant. “There - is an old saying,” he went on, “that every dog has his day. - But unfortunately politically speaking there are more dogs than days, and - when two or three contestants try to get in on the same day, why, somebody - is going to get bitten. There is only one state senatorial job from this - district but there may be half-a-dozen fellows who feel called upon to - offer themselves upon the political altar of their country.” - </p> - <p> - “Have noticed a good many fellows down from the hills recently,” - replied Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s politics,” said Grant. “They take a - lay off from their work in the hills—come down here to fill up on - free political whiskey furnished by the various candidates. Oh, take it - from me,” said Grant, looking wise and shaking his head, “these - delegates are a booze-fighting bunch for fair.” - </p> - <p> - For a moment or two the journalistic oracle busied himself with his toast - and butter. - </p> - <p> - “You watch the columns of my paper,” he resumed. “I’m - going to show up these whiskey drinking, habits of the delegates good and - plenty in this week’s issue of the <i>Doublejack.</i> In the - language of Jim Rankin I get a heap peevish with all this political - foolishness. Still,” Grant went on, “I presume it is a part of - the political machinery of the frontier. One thing,” he concluded, - “we all become unduly excited in these ante-convention days.” - </p> - <p> - Political excitement had indeed waxed warm, and the little mining town had - seemingly ceased to think about its mines, its great smelting plant, rich - strikes in the hills and everything else—even the cattle men and the - sheep men appeared to have forgotten their feuds together with their - flocks and herds in the general excitement over the nomination for state - senator from southern Carbon County. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones in his Doublejack editorials made emphatic and urgent appeal - to the people to remember the doctrines of the old Simon-pure Jacksonian - democracy and agree upon a good Democratic nominee. With a split in the - Republican ranks the chances were never better for the election of a - Democratic senator. He pointed out that if Bragdon won the nomination the - Carlisle clique would secretly knife the Bragdon forces at the polls by - voting the Democratic ticket, and on the other hand if Carlisle should - best Bragdon in the nominating contest then the Bragdon following would - retaliate by supporting the Democratic nominee so as to defeat Carlisle in - the end. - </p> - <p> - On the Republican side W. Henry Carlisle, the astute lawyer, was backed by - the smelter interests, while Ben Bragdon, the eloquent, was supported by - the antismelter forces generally and also by Earle Clemens, editor of the - <i>Encampment Herald,</i> one of the best known and most highly respected - party leaders in the state. - </p> - <p> - The so-called smelter interests were certainly discredited because of the - domineering insolence of W. B. Grady and his unfair treatment of the men. - Not only did Grady practice every sort of injustice upon the employees of - the great smelting plant in all its various departments, but he also - quarreled with the ranchmen in the valley whenever he had dealings with - them even to the extent of buying a load of hay. - </p> - <p> - As convention day approached there was a noticeable feeling of unrest and - nervousness. Factional strife was running at high tension. - </p> - <p> - The wise men of the party said they could plainly see that unless harmony - in the Republican ranks obtained at the convention the nominee would be - defeated at the polls, and that if Ben Bragdon’s nomination were - insisted upon by his friends without in some way conciliating the Carlisle - faction the Democrats would be almost certain to win at the following - November’s elections. - </p> - <p> - It was pretty generally conceded that Ben Bragdon, controlled the - numerical strength of the delegates, but the wiseacres would ask in their - solicitude: “Is it wisdom to take such a chance? Does it not invite - a split in the ranks of our party? In other words, does it not mean defeat - for the Republican candidate on election day?” - </p> - <p> - Carlisle was a power to be reckoned with, and had a clannish, determined - following in political affairs, and although he and his friends might be - outnumbered and beaten in the nominating convention, yet what would follow - if Bragdon’s nomination were forced upon them? What would be the - result? Would not Carlisle’s following secretly slash the rival they - had been unable to defeat at the nominating convention? - </p> - <p> - A “dark horse” seemingly was the only way out of the dilemma, - and the more conservative delegates insisted that Bragdon and his friends - must be brought to understand and recognize the possibilities of almost - certain defeat unless harmony could be insured; otherwise Bragdon must be - compelled to withdraw. - </p> - <p> - Early in the morning before the day named for the senatorial convention to - assemble at Rawlins the delegates at Encampment and several hundred - friends of the respective candidates started overland for the convention - city. - </p> - <p> - There were two roads from Encampment to Rawlins—one that branched - off from the so-called main road and went along the Platte River bottom. - The distance by either route was about sixty miles. Carlisle and his - following went one road, while Bragdon and his following traveled by the - other road, both arriving at the hotel in Rawlins at the same time with - panting horses. It was a mad race, each faction trying to show supremacy - over the other even at the cost of horseflesh. - </p> - <p> - The delegates gathered in knots of three and four in the lobby of the - hotel, in the barroom and in the private rooms during the afternoon and - evening before convention day. - </p> - <p> - The trains had arrived from the East and the West, and the delegates from - all over the senatorial district were present and ready for the fray that - was certain to come off the following day—indeed, Rawlins, the - county seat, was alive with politicians and the Ferris House, the leading - hotel of the place, was a beehive of activity. The Democratic spectators - were jubilant and made their headquarters at Wren’s saloon. - </p> - <p> - It was at the Ferris House that W. Henry Carlisle had opened his - headquarters in opposition to Ben Bragdon. The Carlisle people said they - had no alternative candidate. Any one of a score of men might be named in - the district, each of whom would be satisfactory; in fact, anyone - excepting Ben Bragdon, provided, of course, it was found that Carlisle - could not be nominated, which they were far from conceding. - </p> - <p> - Bragdon and Carlisle had often before locked horns in hotly contested - lawsuits up in the-hills, but in addition to their legal fights for - supremacy there had been one special controversy that had resulted in a - big financial loss for which each held the other responsible. It involved - a bitter fight over a mining claim wherein both Bragdon and Carlisle had - financial interests, and both had finally lost. It was a rich property and - had by decree of the courts been awarded to a third party. But the - decision did not lessen the feud. The impelling motive in their political - contest was not half so much, perhaps, for the honor of being state - senator as it was a consuming desire in the heart of each to best and lick - the other. - </p> - <p> - Some of the delegates, even those who were inclined to be friendly to - Bragdon’s candidacy, acknowledged that seemingly he had made no - effort to pacify either Carlisle or his friends, and thus, in a way, had - proven himself deficient as a political leader and standard-bearer for the - party. - </p> - <p> - Others claimed that a reconciliation was impossible, that the breach was - entirely too wide to be patched up at the eleventh hour. Still others were - of the opinion that if the Bragdon forces would concede the chairmanship - of the convention to Carlisle and his friends and thus give substantial - evidence of a desire to harmonize and be friendly, past differences could - be adjusted, with the result not only of Bragdon’s nomination but - his election as well. - </p> - <p> - Those high in the leadership of the Bragdon forces laughed incredulously - and scorned to consider such a compromising surrender, and further - expressed their disbelief in the sincerity of Carlisle and his crowd even - if the Bragdon following were willing to make such a concession. - </p> - <p> - “No,” said Big Phil Lee, Bragdon’s chief lieutenant, - “I’m a Kentucky Democrat, boys, as you all know, but in this - fight I’m for Bragdon—a Bragdon Republican—and we’ve - got the whip-hand and by the Eternal we will hold it. We Bragdon fellows - have already agreed upon a chairman and a secretary for both the temporary - and permanent organizations of tomorrow’s convention, and we have - selected Charlie Winter to name Bragdon in a nominating speech that will - be so dangnation eloquent—well, it will simply carry everybody off - their feet. He is the boy that can talk, you bet he is. Oh, you bet we’ve - got ‘em licked, Carlisle and all his cohorts. And let me tell you - something else,” continued Big Phil Lee, gesticulating, “we’ll - hold them responsible for the final result. If Bragdon’s not - elected, it will be because Carlisle and his gang knife him at the polls. - Just let them do such a dirty contemptible piece of political chicanery - and they’ll be marked men ever afterwards in this senatorial - district, and not one of them could be elected even to the office of dog - pelter.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS just such - talk as Big Phil Lee’s that kept the Bragdon forces lined up and - defiant to the point of an open rupture and a total disregard for the - minority, while the Democrats cheered Big Phil Lee’s remarks with - enthusiastic hoorays. - </p> - <p> - The individual who really held the destiny of the party that year in the - hollow of his hand and within the next few hours proved himself the Moses - to lead all factions from the paths of bickering into the highway of - absolute harmony, was the newspaper man, Earle Clemens. All through the - evening hours the editor of the <i>Herald</i> had been a most eloquent - listener. He was on good terms with everybody, jovial and mixed with all - factions, and yet was scrupulously careful to avoid giving any expression - of advice or stating an opinion. He had, however, been very outspoken in - his editorial advocacy for harmony. - </p> - <p> - Earle Clemens was not only known and respected all over the state as an - able newspaper man, but he was the possessor of a rich tenor voice that - had delighted many an audience up in the hills, and then, too, he had - composed the melody of the state song, entitled “Wyoming”—all - of which tended to his great popularity and powerful influence. - </p> - <p> - While it was quite generally known that Clemens was perhaps closer in his - friendship for Bragdon than any other man in the district, dating from way - back when the generous-hearted young lawyer had helped Clemens at a time - and in a way that money could not buy or repay, yet the editor of the <i>Herald</i> - had all along insisted that unless the Bragdon sympathizers effected a - reconciliation with the Carlisle crowd, it virtually meant, if Bragdon’s - nomination were forced upon the convention, a Democratic victory at the - coming November election. - </p> - <p> - In his last editorial, before the convention was to assemble, he had, in - reply to Democratic newspaper gibes about a high old row which was likely - to obtain at the oncoming Republican convention, branded the writers one - and all as political falsifiers. He boldly announced that not a single - discordant note would be heard when the Republican host came to nominate - its standard bearer, and furthermore that the choice would be emphasized - by a unanimous vote of the delegates. And in the final event the - Republican candidate, he declared, would be elected by such an - overwhelming popular vote that it would make the false Democratic prophets - and bolting Republican malcontents, if there were any, “hunt the - tall timber.” - </p> - <p> - The Democratic press in reply had said that the editor of the <i>Herald</i> - was whistling to keep up his courage, and of course much amusement had - been caused by the spirited controversy. So when the eventful day arrived - fully as many Democrats journeyed to Rawlins to see the fun as there were - Republican delegates. Of course, as good Democrats, they lost no - opportunity to help embitter the two factions and widen the breach between - the Bragdon and the Carlisle forces. - </p> - <p> - Editor Earle Clemens, however, had ideas of his own that he told to no - one. The electric light was shining in his room long after midnight and - his small hand typewriter, which he always carried in his grip, was busy - clicking away—presumably writing copy for the columns of his paper. - What really occurred however, was this: He wrote two letters on the hotel - stationery—one addressed to Hon. Ben Bragdon, and the other - addressed to Hon. W. Henry Carlisle, and the envelopes were marked - private. - </p> - <p> - After the letters were duly typewritten, he placed an electric light under - a pane of glass with which he had provided himself, elevating the glass by - supporting the ends with a couple of books, and then from letters that he - had at some former time received from both aspirants cleverly traced and - signed the signature of W. Henry Carlisle to one letter and in like manner - signed the signature of Ben Bragdon to the other letter—yes, brazen - forgeries. - </p> - <p> - After inclosing them in their respective envelopes, he stole softly out - into the hallway and slipped one under the door of Carlisle’s room - and the other under the door of Bragdon’s room. Then he went - downstairs and bribed the night clerk to call both Bragdon and Carlisle at - sharp fifteen minutes before six o’clock. This done, Clemens - hastened back to his own apartment for a few hours’ sleep, wondering - as he disrobed if the “end would justify the means.” - </p> - <p> - “There is no question,” he said to himself as he climbed into - the bed, “but that the Republican ox is in the ditch and heroic - measures are necessary.” - </p> - <p> - The following morning, when W. Henry Carlisle was awakened by the night - clerk calling out softly the hour of seven o’clock, he hastily arose - and began dressing, but before he had half finished he spied the letter - that had been pushed under his door. Picking it up, he broke the seal and - this is what he read: - </p> - <p> - “My dear Carlisle:— - </p> - <p> - “It probably requires more bravery to make an apology and to ask to - be forgiven than it does to settle differences between gentlemen by the - now antiquated ‘code.’ - </p> - <p> - “I here and now tender my apologies for any unkind words I may in - the past have spoken derogatory to you, and as an evidence of my candor - will pledge you the support of myself and friends for both temporary and - permanent chairman at tomorrow’s convention, if you reciprocate this - offer of a reconciliation. - </p> - <p> - “If you are big enough and broad enough and generous enough to - accept this overture and desire to bury all past differences and from now - on work in harmony together, each helping the other, as did Jonathan and - David of old, why, the opportunity is offered, and we will let bygones be - bygones. - </p> - <p> - “If you accept this apology, meet me at the hotel bar early tomorrow - morning and merely extend your hand of friendship in greeting. I will - understand; but please do not humiliate me by mentioning the fact, even to - your best friends, that I have written this letter, and above all do not - refer to it at our meeting tomorrow morning or at any future time. It is - quite enough if these old differences are wiped off the slate between you - and myself without commenting, or permitting comments to be made. I am not - unmindful, Carlisle, that you are a great big able man and I want you to - be my friend, and I wish to be yours. You have the power to make my - nomination for state senator unanimous. - </p> - <p> - “I have the honor of subscribing myself - </p> - <p> - “Very sincerely yours, - </p> - <p> - “Ben Bragdon.” - </p> - <p> - Across the hall Ben Bragdon was also reading a letter, which was almost a - duplicate of the one that Carlisle was perusing, except that the - conditions were reversed. Carlisle, in his letter of apology, offered to - support Bragdon for the nomination, provided the hatchet was buried and - the Bragdon forces would support him for temporary and permanent chairman. - </p> - <p> - At the conclusion of the reading of these respective letters, each wore an - exultant look of mastery on his face. For the time being at least all - other differences were forgotten. In the hearts of both was the thought: - “It’s mighty decent of him; he really is a bigger man than I - thought.” - </p> - <p> - Carlisle was the first man to leave his room and going quickly downstairs - passed hurriedly into the hotel bar, which at that early hour was deserted - except for the immaculate, white-aproned bartender. - </p> - <p> - “What will it be this morning, Mr. Carlisle?” was the - respectful inquiry of the attendant. - </p> - <p> - “Nothing just yet,” replied Carlisle, “I am waiting for - a friend.” - </p> - <p> - A moment later Ben Bragdon came in, whereupon both of these skillful - politicians vied in meeting each other more than half-way and extending - the right hand of good fellowship in kindliest greetings. - </p> - <p> - “Guess we’re a little early,” stammered Bragdon in a - futile attempt to appear at ease and free from embarrassment. They both - laughed a little, and Carlisle remarked that fortunately the bartender was - at his post even if the delegates were slow about getting started on the - day’s work. - </p> - <p> - Just then the night clerk appeared and apologized for calling them so - early. “Don’t know how it happened,” he stammered, - “but I made a mistake of an hour. I called you gentlemen at six - instead of seven. I hope you’ll not—” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that’s all right,” exclaimed Bragdon and Carlisle - in unison, as they good-naturedly waved him aside with their assurance - that they were glad to be up and about. - </p> - <p> - “A couple of Martini cocktails,” said Bragdon to the - attendant. The cocktails were soon before them and tossed off in a jiffy, - with the mutual salutation of “Here’s how.” - </p> - <p> - “Come again, my man; make it half a dozen this time—three - apiece,” said Carlisle, laughing and throwing down a twenty dollar - gold piece. “Might as well have a good appetizer while we’re - about it, and then we’ll relish our breakfast, good or bad.” - </p> - <p> - They chatted about the weather while the cocktails were being prepared. - Finally the cocktails were pushed along the bar counter, three in front of - each. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” said Bragdon, as they each lifted a glass. - “Here’s to your good health!” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks,” said Carlisle, “but since we have three - cocktails apiece before us, suppose we drink to the past, the present, and - the future!” - </p> - <p> - “Good!” replied Bragdon, beaming with approval. “Splendid - idea and happily put” He then ordered some of the highest priced - cigars the house afforded and insisted on Carlisle filling his pockets, - while he stowed away a goodly number himself. - </p> - <p> - Soon after the fourth cocktail disappeared, they started for the - dining-room arm in arm, chatting away to one another like two old cronies - who had just met after a long separation. They found seats at a table in a - far corner and in their eagerness to say the right thing to one another - took no notice that a few of the delegates were already at tables in - different parts of the room. The delegates laid down their knives and - forks and looked toward Bragdon and Carlisle in astonishment. Then they - whispered among themselves, whereupon four or five left the room quietly - and hastened with all speed to carry word to the other delegates, most of - whom were still in their apartments. - </p> - <p> - The news spread like wildfire, and a general scramble followed in - hurriedly dressing and rushing downstairs to witness with their own eyes - such an unexpected turn in political affairs between two men who had been - at daggers drawn. - </p> - <p> - Within a very short time the dining-room was well filled with delegates, - but neither Bragdon nor Carlisle paid any attention; nor were they - seemingly conscious that all eyes were turned upon them. Each was - felicitating himself on the turn of events. Then, too, their amiability, - as well as their appetites, had no doubt been whetted into keenest - activity by the cocktails. - </p> - <p> - Ben Bragdon, after breakfast, gave orders that the Hon. W. Henry Carlisle - was to be made both temporary and permanent chairman, and Carlisle - likewise announced that the Hon. Ben Bragdon was to be nominated as - senatorial candidate by acclamation; and each issued his instructions in - such a matter-of-fact, yet stubbornly blunt fashion, that no one offered - any objection or asked any questions. - </p> - <p> - The delegates looked at each other, nudged one another in the ribs and - indulged in many a sly wink of suppressed amusement. But they all quickly - recognized the political advantage insured by a coalition of the Bragdon - and Carlisle forces, and the utter dismay this would cause in the camp of - the Democrats. Therefore they all became “programme” men and - took their orders meekly. So when the convention finally met and got down - to business with Carlisle presiding, it at once proceeded to nominate Ben - Bragdon by a unanimous vote. - </p> - <p> - Seemingly everybody cheered on the slightest provocation and everybody was - in excellent good nature, and after the convention had completed its - labors and adjourned, it was conceded to have been one of the most - harmonious political gatherings ever held in the state. Thus was the - prediction of Earle Clemens, the newspaper scribe, fulfilled to the very - letter. - </p> - <p> - The convention over, the delegates drifted back to the Ferris House and - not long after Big Phil Lee called at Clemens’ room. The editor was - picking away at his typewriter, preparing a report for the columns of his - paper. Grant Jones, Roderick Warfield, and two or three others were in the - room, smoking and talking. But Clemens paid no attention, so intent was he - on his work. Big Phil Lee, who without doubt had been Bragdon’s - loudest shouter, said: “Say, Clemens, I compliment you on your - prophetic editorials. I reckon you are writing another one. You said the - convention would be harmonious, and how in the demnition bow-wows your - prophecy happened to come true nobody knows. But it did.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks,” replied Clemens, in his light-hearted jovial way, - and then looking out of the window for a moment, added: “I say, Lee, - don’t it beat hell what a little clever horse sense will accomplish - at times in a political convention?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean by that?” asked Big Phil, quickly. “You - seem to be posted. By gad! I think it’s high time I was taken into - the inner councils myself and had the seemingly inexplainable made clear - to me.” - </p> - <p> - “Search me,” replied Clemens in a subdued voice, as he bit the - tip of another cigar and struck a match. “Neither Bragdon nor - Carlisle has invited me into any of their secret conferences.” - </p> - <p> - Big Phil Lee looked a bit incredulous, shook his head in a nonplussed sort - of way and said: “Well, so long, boys. I’m goin’ down to - the hotel parlor where Bragdon is holding his reception. They are falling - over one another congratulating Carlisle about as much as they are - Bragdon.” - </p> - <p> - As the door closed behind him, Clemens looked up from his typewriter and - said to Grant Jones, laughingly: “Say, Grant, remember what the Good - Book says?” - </p> - <p> - “Says lots of things—what do you refer to?” asked Grant - </p> - <p> - Clemens replied: “Blessed are the peacemakers.” - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones came over close to him and said: “Look here, Clemens.” - And he fixed him with his eyes as if searching for an answer to that which - was veiled in mystery. But Clemens stood the ordeal and presently Jones - burst out laughing: “It’s all right, Clemens, the <i>Herald</i> - has sure put one over on the <i>Doublejack</i> this time. I don’t - know how it was done, and maybe I never will know. But take it from me, it - was clever—damned clever!” - </p> - <p> - Clemens made no reply, but removing his cigar winked at Roderick Warfield - who was sitting near, puffed rings of smoke toward the ceiling and - afterwards whistled softly the air of “Wyoming,” the state - song, even while he smiled the smile of a knowledge that surpasses - understanding. - </p> - <p> - Delegates and sightseers, Republicans and Democrats, who had journeyed to - see a hotly contested nomination, ostensibly for the state senate but - really for political supremacy, were good-natured and jovial when they - started on the return trip. Big Phil Lee shouted to Earle Gemens who was - on the other stage and said: “We are such a happy family, I presume - we will return on the same road instead of dividing and horse racing.” - </p> - <p> - Clemens and the other returning passengers on the hurricane deck laughed - good-naturedly and said: “Sure, we will stick together from now on - and fight the Democrats.” Presently the crowd commenced singing - vigorously—if a bunch of discordant voices could be so described—various - popular airs of the day. - </p> - <p> - That evening a reception was given Ben Bragdon at the hotel Bonhomme in - Encampment, and the affair was presided over by W. Henry Carlisle. It was - interpreted that the breach between these two attorneys had been - effectually healed to the discomfiture of the Democrats. But no one save - and except Earle Clemens knew how it had been brought about. - </p> - <p> - Roderick Warfield slipped away early from the scene of jubilation, and - carried the glorious news to the Shields’ ranch that Ben Bragdon had - been unanimously nominated. Barbara, with the flush of radiant joy on her - face, could no longer deny the soft impeachment, and he boldly - congratulated her on her coming wedding to the senator-elect for southern - Wyoming. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE following - evening Roderick called at the Major’s home, and found a visitor - there, a stranger yet very well known to him by reputation. This was no - other than the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the travelling parson, of whose - fame as a doer of good deeds at the cost of complete self-sacrifice and - self-denial, Roderick had often heard. - </p> - <p> - “Delighted to see you, Roderick,” said the Major. “Come - right in. You know, of course, the most noted man in the camp—the - man with the saddle bags. What? Never met yet? Well, it is a great - pleasure to me to make you two acquainted.” - </p> - <p> - After cordial greetings had been exchanged Major Hampton continued: - “We have just been discussing some of the great problems of - humanity. Pardon me, my dear friend, but I wish to say to Mr. Warfield - that if I were called upon today to name the greatest humanitarian with - whom I am acquainted I certainly should say—the Reverend Stephen - Grannon.” - </p> - <p> - “You do me too much honor,” interposed the parson hastily. - “You compliment me far too highly.” Major Hampton went on as - if the Reverend Stephen Grannon had made no interruption: “The - school of humanitarianism is small in number, but the combined results of - their labors directed through the channels of service in the behalf of - humanity bear the stamp of greatness. The sincere lover of his fellows - recognizes that the poor of this world have borne and are still bearing - the burdens of the race. The poor have built all the monuments along the - world’s highway of civilization. They have produced all the wealth - from the hills and from the soil The poor of the world have endured the - hardships of conquering the wilds and erecting outposts on the border of - civilization. Indeed they conquer everything except the fetters that bind - them and hold them as an asset of great corporate power that is heartless - and soulless and indifferent to the privations and sufferings of the - individual.” - </p> - <p> - The Reverend Stephen Grannon gave it as his view that the mission of a - humanitarian was not to hinder the world’s progress, nor even to - prejudice anyone against the fortune gathering of the rich, but rather to - dispell the darkness of injustice and assist the great army of the - impoverished to a better understanding of their rights as well as their - powers to conquer the evils that have throughout the ages crept into and - clung to our civilization. - </p> - <p> - “Poverty,” he remarked, “is the cause of much misery and - often the impelling motive to immorality and crime in many forms. Men - often sell and barter their votes and birthrights in this free country to - bribe givers—wily politicians—while our girls are not - infrequently lured into selling their very souls for ribbons and the - gaudiness and shams of the world.” - </p> - <p> - “What is the cure?” asked Roderick, greatly interested. - </p> - <p> - “The cure,” responded the preacher, “is the regeneration - of mankind through the leavening and uplifting power of the principles - taught by the humble humanitarian of Galilee, the great prince of - righteousness.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” chimed in Major Hampton, “the Reverend Stephen - Grannon has given you the solution for the problem. Add to this a higher - education. The more highly educated the individual,” continued the - Major, “the greater the crime if they break the law.” - </p> - <p> - “But,” said Roderick, “this is a free country and we - have free schools. Why do not the poor have a better education?” - </p> - <p> - Reverend Grannon turned quickly to Roderick and replied: “You come - with me to the twenty-odd mining camps, Mr. Warfield, surrounding this - town of Encampment—come with me up in the hills where there are no - schools—see the little children growing up in carelessness because - of the impossibility on the part of their fathers and mothers to provide - them with school privileges. In the school room the teacher becomes the - overseer not alone of their studies but of their morals as well. Let me - take you down in the mines,” he continued, speaking with great - earnestness, “and see the boys from twelve years to twenty-one years - working day after day, many of them never having had school privileges and - therefore unable to read or write.” - </p> - <p> - He paused for just a moment, then resumed: “It brings to my mind - what a very wise man once wrote. It was King Solomon, and among many other - splendid truths he said: ‘The rich man’s wealth is his strong - city; the destruction of the poor is their poverty.’.rdquo; - </p> - <p> - “Roderick,” said the Major as he lit his meerschaum and blew - the smoke towards the ceiling, “my heart is very light tonight, for - I have arranged with the assistance of the Reverend Stephen Grannon to - help relieve this lamentable situation in those mining camps up in the - mountains away from school privileges. I have recently taken the matter up - with the county commissioners and have agreed to build twenty - schoolhouses. Each schoolhouse will consist of two rooms. One will be for - the smaller children during the day and also to serve as a night school - for the young men and young women who are employed in manual labor during - working hours. The other room is a library sufficiently large and spacious - to accommodate the young men of each mining community and thus keep them - away from saloons, brothels, and prize ring attractions. One hour each - evening will be taken up by a reader and a regular course of entertaining - books will be read aloud in a serial way. The books in the library will be - loaned out on tickets and the usual library rules observed.” - </p> - <p> - “Splendid,” said Roderick, “that sounds practical to me.” - </p> - <p> - “It is practical,” said the Reverend Stephen Grannon, “and - thanks to Major Buell Hampton this plan which I have cherished for so many - years will soon be put into effect.” - </p> - <p> - Looking at his watch he turned to the Major and said: “By the way, - Major, I have a couple of poor families to visit tonight. I have promised - them, and they will be disappointed if I do not come.” He arose as - he said this. - </p> - <p> - “My good friend,” replied Buell Hampton, “I am sorry you - cannot remain longer with us, but I would not keep you from your duties.” - </p> - <p> - The Reverend Stephen Grannon put on his top coat, as the evenings were - growing chilly, and after shaking hands took his departure. - </p> - <p> - When he was gone and the door closed, Major Hampton turned to Roderick and - holding up one hand said reverently: “Of such is the kingdom of - heaven. In all my lifetime, Roderick, I have never known another such - splendid character. I have closely observed his work ever since I came to - this camp. Perhaps in his entire lifetime he has not collected fifty - dollars in money. He says he does not want money.” - </p> - <p> - “But he must have money to live on.” - </p> - <p> - “Above all money considerations,” said the Major, looking into - the darkened corner of his living room, “he wants to save souls here - on this earth so that he will have more jewels in his crown over yonder—these - are his own words. There is not a family in the surrounding country that - he is not acquainted with. If there is sickness he is the first one there. - Where the greatest poverty abounds you will find him. He goes out and - solicits alms for those in distress, but keeps nothing for himself - excepting the frailest living. Go through the valley or up in the mountain - gorges or still farther up in the mining camps where the snow never melts - from the shady side of the log cabins, and you will find this noble - character, Reverend Stephen Grannon, doing his good work for the poor—ministering - to their wants and endeavoring to lift humanity into higher walks, - physically, morally, and spiritually.” - </p> - <p> - “I am glad you have told me all this,” replied Roderick. - “It increases my already high opinion of the parson.” - </p> - <p> - “He is a veritable shepherd among the people,” continued Major - Hampton. “Reverend Grannon is the true flockmaster of Wyoming. The - people are frequently unruly, boisterous, intemperate and immoral, yet he - treats them with greatest consideration and seeks to persuade and lead - them away from their sins and transgressions. Yes, he is a great - flockmaster—he is well named The Flockmaster.” - </p> - <p> - Both were silent for a few moments. Then the Major, as if suddenly - remembering something, looked up and said: “He tells me Scotty - Meisch is getting along fine over in the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> printing - office.” - </p> - <p> - “I am glad to hear that,” exclaimed Roderick. “It is - good to have saved at least one lad from going the way of those outlaws of - Jack Creek. I have never forgotten that ghastly midnight scene—the - massacred sheep and the burning herders’ wagons.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, what can you expect?” asked the Major. “When the - social waters are poisoned at the fountain head, the whole course of the - stream becomes pernicious. In this state of Wyoming the standard of - political decency is not high. The people have no real leaders to look up - to. The United States Senator, F. E. Greed, sets a pernicious example to - the rising generation. He violates laws in scores of instances because of - his greed and grafting proclivities, and his bribed supporters go on year - after year supporting him. What the state needs is a leader. High-minded - leaders are priceless. Their thoughts and their deeds are the richest - legacy to a state or a community. Great leaders are beacon lights kindled - upon the mountain peaks of the centuries, illuminating the mental and - moral atmosphere of civilization. The history of the world—of a - nation, of a state and of a community—is the story of their epochal - deeds, while man’s advancement is only the lengthened shadow of - their moral, spiritual and temporal examples. Leaders come up from the - crowd, from among the poor and the lowly. They are immediately recognized - by the great mass of the people and invariably crowned, although sometimes - it is a crown of thorns that they are compelled to wear and endure for - upholding priceless principles in their endeavor to lead humanity to a - higher plane. However,” concluded the Major, “the world is - growing better. The nimble-fingered, tilltapping, porch-climbing derelicts - in politics and commercialism are becoming unpopular. The reprehensible - methods in all avenues of life are being condemned instead of condoned—the - goats are being cast out from among the sheep.” - </p> - <p> - “You interest me very much, Major,” said Roderick. “Your - ideals are so high, your aims so decent and right, that it is a pleasure - to hear you talk. I am a firm believer,” Roderick went on, “in - the justice of the doctrine that all men are created free and equal.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a sad commentary,” replied Major Hampton, “in - this land where liberty is cherished and our Government corner-stoned upon - the theory that all men are free and equal, that even the soberest of us - are compelled, my dear Roderick, to regard such affirmations as - blasphemous. To illustrate: An employee in one of the big manufacturing - combinations committed a burglary—almost petty larceny in its - smallness—another case of Jean Valjean stealing bread for his - children—and yet he was tried before an alleged court of justice and - sent to the penitentiary for ten years. The head of the same institution - pillaged multiplied millions from the poor in unjust and lawless - extortions. When he was caught red-handed in his lawbreaking, instead of - sharing a prison cell with the poor man our courts indulgently permitted - this great highwayman six months’ time in which to reorganize and - have legalized his methods of stealing.” - </p> - <p> - “Such rank injustice,” exclaimed Roderick, “makes my - blood tingle with indignation. It is surely high time a determined crusade - was led against the privileged classes.” - </p> - <p> - The Major made no reply but after a little, looking up from the open grate - and turning to Roderick, he asked him if he was aware that the next day - was the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Encampment Mine and - Smelting Company. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, is it?” said Roderick. “Some time ago I noticed - something in the newspapers about the meeting, but as it was of no - particular moment to me I had forgotten it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said Major Hampton, “and I guess I will now tell - you that I have been holding a secret from you.” - </p> - <p> - “That so?” exclaimed Roderick questioningly. - </p> - <p> - “You will remember,” the Major went on, “that I left you - in Denver after we made the big ore shipment and that I was away for three - or four weeks. Well, I went to New York, employed two or three big brokers - down on Wall Street, and commenced buying Encampment Mine and Smelter - Company stock on the exchange. Working jointly with a new friend I have - discovered, a professional man of finance yet a true friend of humanity, I - have absolute control of the stock today.” - </p> - <p> - “You have?” exclaimed Roderick. “You own a control of - the stock in this great smelter and the Ferris-Haggerty mine?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, the whole enterprise is virtually in our ownership. Well, - something is going to happen tomorrow at the stockholders’ meeting - which I fear will not be pleasant to certain individuals. But duty compels - me to pursue a course I have mapped out. My chosen work in life is to - serve the poor, yet in trying to fulfill this mission I harbor no - resentful thoughts against the rich as a class nor do I intend for them - any unfair treatment.” - </p> - <p> - “If the people only knew,” remarked Roderick, softly, “you - are without doubt one of the richest men in this part of the country and - yet you so honestly prefer the simple life.” - </p> - <p> - “There are two kinds of rich people,” continued the Major. - “One class is arrogant and unfeeling; they hoard money by fair means - or foul for money’s sake and for the power it brings. The other - class use their wealth not to oppress but to relieve the worthy poor. - Personally, Warfield, I do not regard the money which accident has made - mine as being in any sense a personal possession. Rather do I hold it as a - trust fund. Of course I am grateful. The money enlarges my opportunity to - do things for my fellows that I wish to do.” - </p> - <p> - The Major paused a moment, then resumed: “Do you remember, Roderick, - when I first told you, Jim Rankin and the others about my hidden mine that - I said there were six men in the world whom I held in highest esteem?” - </p> - <p> - “I remember well,” assented Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Well, five of you were present then—Tom Sun, Boney Earnest, - and Grant Jones, with yourself and Jim. For the absent sixth one I - specifically reserved a share in my prosperity, although at the time I - withheld his name. Now you know it He is the one entitled to most - consideration among us all—the Reverend Stephen Grannon.” - </p> - <p> - “Of course he is,” concurred Roderick, with hearty conviction. - “He can do more good in the world than all the rest of us together, - yourself excepted, Major.” - </p> - <p> - “At present, perhaps,” said Buell Hampton. “But let his - shining example be an incentive to you all—to us all. Well, in a - confidential way, I will tell you, Roderick, that when in New York I also - purchased a large block of bonds that yields an income of something like - $20,000 per year. This income I have legally turned over with proper - writings to the Reverend Stephen Grannon, and already I think you will - discover a vast improvement in the mining camps and throughout the valleys - among the poor. For Stephen Grannon is a godly man and a true - humanitarian.” - </p> - <p> - “My word, but that’s great—that’s grand!” - murmured Roderick with deep enthusiasm. And he gazed at Buell Hampton’s - noble soul-lit face admiringly. - </p> - <p> - The Major rose to his feet—his usual method of intimating that he - wished to be alone. Roderick grasped his hand, and would have spoken - further, but Buell Hampton interrupted him. - </p> - <p> - “Say no more, my dear boy. I am glad that you have been interested - in what I had to say tonight. The veil was lifted and you saw me as I am—anxious - to be of benefit to my fellows. I shall indeed be proud if you find these - doctrines not merely acceptable to yourself, but in some degree at least - stimulative in your acts toward the worthy poor and lowly as the years - come and go.” - </p> - <p> - As Roderick walked slowly along the street deep in thought over Buell - Hampton’s words, he came suddenly upon W. B. Grady and several well - dressed strangers at a street corner. The visitors, he surmised, were - eastern directors of the big smelting company who had come to Encampment - for the stockholders’ meeting on the morrow. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning at - ten o’clock, Major Buell - </p> - <p> - Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of the - directors’ room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a - bold front Grady looked careworn and anxious. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on there,” he said as the Major started to enter. - “What do you want?” He spoke roughly. “This is a meeting - of some gentlemen who are interested in the Smelter.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said the Major. “I came down to attend the - stockholders’ meeting.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you can’t go in,” said Grady. “Stockholders’ - meetings of this company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and - gossip for onlookers like a justice of the peace court.” - </p> - <p> - “That may all be true—I hope it is true, Mr. Grady,” - said the Major, and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of - anger depicted on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical - inspection. - </p> - <p> - “I am here strictly on business,” continued Buell Hampton. - “I am a stockholder.” - </p> - <p> - “You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?” - </p> - <p> - “I have that honor,” replied the Major, tersely. “Or at - least I hold powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in - your company.” - </p> - <p> - An ashen grey crept into Grady’s face. - </p> - <p> - “What do you mean?” he faltered. “You are not a - shareholder of record on our books.” - </p> - <p> - “No, but you will find as shareholders of record the names of - Charles T. Brown, George Edward Reed, Herbert Levy, Daniel W. Higbee, and - a few others about whom I need not bother.” - </p> - <p> - A new light broke over Grady. He looked more sickly than ever. - </p> - <p> - “These are recent purchasers of stock,” he said, “in New - York and also, if I remember rightly, in Iowa.” - </p> - <p> - “Precisely, and together these buyers now hold the controlling - interest in your company. Here are the legal documents constituting me the - attorney for all these men.” He drew a neat little packet of papers - from the breast pocket of his coat. “In other words I am these men—I - hold the controlling power, although I did not choose to disclose the fact - until this morning. Now, will you please let me pass? Thank you.” - </p> - <p> - If a pistol had been thrust against the ribs of W. B. Grady, he could not - have looked more utterly scared. He had stepped aside to let the Major - pass and now bluff and bluster changed swiftly to sycophancy. - </p> - <p> - “All right, Major Hampton,” he said, in his most ingratiating - manner. “Walk right in and let me introduce you to some of the other - stockholders. Of course, only a few of them are here.” - </p> - <p> - The Major followed him into the directors’ room and was duly - presented. - </p> - <p> - “This,” said Grady with patronizing suavity, “is an old - fellow townsman of ours here in Encampment and a friend of mine. Here, - Major, take this chair,” insisted Grady. “You see we are all a - happy family together.” - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton could not but contrast the fawning manner of the general - manager before his superiors, the directors of the Company, with his - notoriously overbearing and insolent treatment of the workingmen. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” said the chairman, “fortunately we have a very - good manager.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you,” said Grady with increased affability. - </p> - <p> - “For myself, I am pleased and delighted at the general manager’s - report which I presume it will be in order now to have read. I think we - have all seen it in advance.” - </p> - <p> - The Major shook his head in dissent but made no comment. - </p> - <p> - Thereupon the meeting was called to order, and after the preliminaries - were concluded Mr. W. B. Grady proceeded to read a rather brief but very - interesting annual report. - </p> - <p> - His report was not only a business summary of a most successful fiscal - year, but also abounded with more or less veiled laudations of himself in - his capacity of manager. - </p> - <p> - Attorney Wm. Henry Carlisle, who combined with his legal position a seat - on the board of directors, advised that the election of a directorate for - the ensuing year was in order. By this time it was known to the other - shareholders present that Major Buell Hampton owned or represented a - control of the stock. This rather upset the cut-and-dried program. - </p> - <p> - W. B. Grady, addressing the chairman, said that he presumed Major Buell - Hampton would appreciate being elected a member of the board of directors, - and if the Company’s attorney, Mr. Carlisle, did not object perhaps - it would be well for him to vacate his seat so as to make room for the new - incumbent. - </p> - <p> - Carlisle’s face grew very red at this attempted slight but he said - nothing. - </p> - <p> - Major Buell Hampton arose, and addressing the chairman said: “Since - I have acquired control of the stock of this Company, I have decided that - Mr. Grady shall not be re-elected as a director. But in the first place I - wish to ask of all stockholders present what their intentions are - regarding the declaring of a dividend?” - </p> - <p> - With this he resumed his seat. - </p> - <p> - By every lineament on Grady’s face one could see that he was - furious. - </p> - <p> - “I presume,” said the chairman, “that it would be proper - to follow the suggestion of Mr. Grady, our general manager, and declare a - dividend of seventy-two per cent on the capital stock.” - </p> - <p> - Major Buell Hampton, again addressing the chair, remarked that seventy-two - per cent, was certainly a fat dividend. But for himself he had purchased a - control of the Company’s stock for the purpose of introducing some - innovations in its management, and in order that there might be no - misunderstanding he felt it was now proper to present his views. If any of - the directors were not in harmony, why, of course, it would be inadvisable - for them to stand for re-election to a directorate over which he intended - henceforth to exercise a close supervision. - </p> - <p> - “I now wish to ask the directors of the Company this question,” - added the Major. “What about Boney Earnest’s dividend?” - </p> - <p> - He paused for a reply. - </p> - <p> - For a moment the stockholders and representatives of stockholders present - seemed almost dumfounded. They turned to the manager, Mr. Grady, who - answered the Major by saying he did not know that Boney Earnest, the - dismissed blast furnace foreman, was a stockholder or had any investment - in the concern—“it was all news to him,” he added with a - weak attempt at levity. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton had remained standing, and by silent consent all waited for - him to reply to this statement. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “Boney Earnest may - not be a stockholder of record. But all the same he had his all invested - in this smelting plant. Day after day, during year after year, he stood - before the blast furnace, doing work of a class which few men could - endure. It is true he received a daily wage until the date of his - dismissal, but he had invested in addition to his daily duties almost a - life-time of ripe experience in the particular work he was doing for this - concern. In short, he had his all—his strength, his brain and his - experience—invested. In these circumstances I object,” - continued Major Hampton, “to a dividend of seventy-two per cent. I - notice from the manager’s report that he has made ample allowances - for betterments, replacements, and surplus, and even with all these very - proper provisions, the enormous possible dividend of seventy-two per cent, - still remains. An original capital stock of $500,000 and an annual - dividend of $360,000, certainly is a magnificent showing.” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton paused and all present clapped their hands gleefully, as if - the Major was coming around to their way of thinking. - </p> - <p> - After silence was restored he proceeded: “Money is worth probably - from five per cent, to six per cent, per annum on solid, non-hazardous - investments and at least double these figures or more on mining - investments which must be regarded as extremely hazardous. It is not, - however, worth seventy-two per cent. per annum. Therefore, gentlemen, we - will declare a dividend of six per cent, on the capital stock, which will - require $30,000. We will then add the capital stock to the pay roll. The - pay roll for the last year in round numbers is $1,100,000. The capital - stock is $500,000 or a total of both of $1,600,000. We will then declare - the remaining $330,000 of earnings into a dividend on the entire - $1,600,000 of capital stock and annual pay roll combined, which amounts to - a little over twenty per cent. This will give to the shareholders of our - company’s stock a little more than a twenty-six per cent, dividend.” - </p> - <p> - The Major sat down. Consternation was apparent on every countenance. - </p> - <p> - “Major,” said one of the eastern directors, “may I ask - you what would happen and what you would do in carrying out your - altruistic dream if the earnings did not amount to even six per cent, on - the money actually invested?” - </p> - <p> - The Major arose again and with great politeness replied: “Probably - we would not declare a dividend. If we had but $30,000 that could be - legitimately applied to dividend purposes, the amount would belong to the - stockholders. But anything above this preferred dividend to the - shareholders should be declared on the annual pay roll combined with and - added to the capital stock of the company, both classes of investors - participating in the surplus over and above six per cent, preferred - dividend. The question with me,” added the Major, “is this? - How many of you directors are in sympathy with the suggestion I have made?” - </p> - <p> - There came no answer, and he continued: “A while ago I expressed - myself against your manager for a position on the directorate. I always - have a reason for my decisions. It has come to me,” continued the - Major, “that while the original cost of this plant may have been - $500,000 yet by the wicked manipulation of the ‘system’ the - original shareholders were completely frozen out—legally robbed if - you please, of their investment and it is quite probable the Pennsylvania - crowd, the present owners or at least those who were the owners before I - purchased a control, paid very little in real money but much in duplicity - and ripened experience in the ways of the fox and the jackal. I have - learned on excellent authority that Mr. W. B. Grady, by stealth and - cunning, secured the underlying bonds from one of the former builders of - this great plant, and robbed him and left him penniless in his old age. - Unless other means of restitution be devised, the reimbursing of those - stolen sums out of my private purse will be one of my first duties and one - of my greatest pleasures.” - </p> - <p> - Grady rose, his face flushed with passion. But Buell Hampton waved him - down with his hand and calmly proceeded: “I will state another - innovation. There are seven directors who control the destinies of this - company. I now insist that the company’s attorney shall be - instructed to have the by-laws so amended that the head of each - department, beginning at the mine where we extract the ore, then the - tramway which carries the ore to the smelter and all the various - departments in the smelter including the converter—shall be elected - annually by the workers themselves in each of the seven departments. In - this way there will be seven foremen; and these seven foremen shall be - officially recognized by the amended by-laws of this company as an - advisory board of directors, entitled to sit and vote with the regular - directors at each monthly meeting and likewise with the stockholders in - their annual meeting.” - </p> - <p> - Had a bomb-shell been thrown into the stockholders’ meeting greater - consternation could not have been evinced’. Finally Attorney - Carlisle moved that an adjournment be taken until ten o’clock the - next day, at which time the stockholders would re-assemble and further - consider the unexpected and doubtless vital questions now under - consideration. The motion prevailed. - </p> - <p> - Of course the entire matter hinged first of all upon the election of a - directorate. During the adjournment Attorney Carlisle, peeved at Grady’s - readiness to drop him from the directorate, called on Major Hampton and - assured him he was in accord with the views he had expressed and that his - every suggestion could be legally complied with by amending the by-laws. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton, however, did not take the hint implied. He was courteous - but firm. The old régime had to go—the management must be changed, - lock, stock and barrel. Therefore there could be no further utilization of - Mr. Carlisle’s services as attorney for the company. Baffled and - discomfited the lawyer withdrew. He was full of indignation, not against - Major Hampton, but against Grady, for he had warned the latter against - selling a certain block of stock to part with which had jeopardized - control of the corporation. But Grady, in need of money, had replied that - there was no risk, the buying being sporadic and the existing directorate - in high favor with the stockholders because of its ability and readiness - to vote big dividends. - </p> - <p> - Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock had - passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, Allen - Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and Smelter - Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing Grady and - crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he sensed the - danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been in reality - for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had been caught - quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able now to throw - him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For once the fox - had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, away from the - tall timber. - </p> - <p> - Carlisle had of late been too busy “doing politics,” and had - allowed matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now - the two old-time confederates were blaming each other—Carlisle - denouncing Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding - Carlisle for neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the - real buyers of the shares being gradually transferred on the company’s - stock books. The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of - blocking the transfer of power into new hands. - </p> - <p> - When the stockholders’ meeting reconvened the following morning, - Major Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the - directorate. They were—Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest - and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the duties - of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places to be - filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old directors - were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors became a - unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both Grady and - Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton’s views on corporations and dividends, and his new - plan of management for the Smelter Company spread all over the camp with - astonishing rapidity, and there was general rejoicing among the miners and - laborers. - </p> - <p> - One employee in the smelter who had been with the company for some three - years made the discovery that, while he was receiving three dollars per - day, which meant an annual income to himself and family of $1095, his - dividend would bring him an extra lump sum of $219 annually. - </p> - <p> - When figuring this out to his wife he said: “Think of the pairs of - shoes it will buy for our kiddies, Bess.” - </p> - <p> - And the woman, an Irishwoman, had replied: “Bless the little darlin’s. - And hats and coats as well, not to speak of ribbons for the girls. God - bless the Major. Sure but he’s a wonderful man.” - </p> - <p> - Several workers sitting in a corner of the Red Dog saloon were calculating - with pencil and paper their annual dividends on the already famous Buell - Hampton plan. - </p> - <p> - “Boys,” said one of them after they had their several accounts - figured to the penny, “maybe we won’t make the dividend bigger - next year—what?” - </p> - <p> - “I should say,” responded another. “I’ll do at - least twice the work every day of the coming year, because there’s - now an object for us poor devils to keep busy all the time. We’re - sharing in the profits, that’s just what it means.” - </p> - <p> - “There’ll be a great reduction in breakage and waste,” - remarked another employee. - </p> - <p> - “The directors can leave it to us to make the next year’s - dividend a dandy one.” - </p> - <p> - These were just a few of the grateful encomiums flying around. - </p> - <p> - On the day following the stockholders’ meeting the newly elected - directors convened, all except Grant Jones, who was over at Dillon and had - not yet been advised of his election. After Major Buell Hampton had been - voted into the chair a communication from W. B. Grady was read, stating - that he wished to know at once if the directors desired his services for - the ensuing year; if so he required a written contract, and should the - directors not be ready to comply with this ultimatum they could interpret - this letter as a formal resignation. There was a general smile around the - directors’ table at this bluffing acceptance of the inevitable. It - was promptly moved, seconded, and carried unanimously that Mr. W. B. Grady - be at once relieved from all further connection with the Smelter Company’s - plant and business. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton then explained that in accordance with his scheme the men in - the various departments would be invited at an early date to elect their - foremen, and these foremen in turn would have the power, not to elect a - general manager, but to recommend one for the final consideration of the - directors. Until a permanent appointment was made he suggested that Boney - Earnest, the blast furnace foreman dismissed by the late manager because - of a personal quarrel, should take charge of the plant, he being a man of - tried experience and worthy of absolute trust. This suggestion was - promptly turned into a substantive motion and adopted by formal - resolution. The meeting adjourned after Director Bragdon in his capacity - as company attorney had been instructed to proceed immediately to the work - of preparing the proper amendments to the by-laws and taking all legal - steps necessary to put into operation the new plan. - </p> - <p> - Thus neither mine nor smelting plant was shut down, but everything went on - without interruption and with greater vigor than before the momentous - meetings of stockholders and directors. The only immediate visible effect - of the company’s radical change in policy was Grady’s - deposition from the post which had enabled him to exercise a cruel tyranny - over the workingmen. - </p> - <p> - And in the solitude of his home the dismissed manager, broken financially - although those around him did not yet know it, was nursing schemes of - revenge against Buell Hampton, the man of mystery who had humiliated him - and ousted him from power. - </p> - <p> - Where was his henchman, Bud Bledsoe?—that was the question throbbing - in Grady’s brain. But Bud Bledsoe was now an outlaw among the hills, - with a price on his head and a sheriff’s posse ready at a moment’s - notice to get on his heels. - </p> - <p> - “By God, I’ve got to find him,” muttered Grady. And that - night, in the falling dusk, he rode out alone into the mountain - fastnesses. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE morning after - the directors’ meeting, when Roderick awakened and looked out of the - window, he found the air filled with flakes of falling snow. He wasted no - time over his toilet. Immediately after breakfast he bundled up snugly and - warmly, went over to the livery stable and engaged a team and a sleigh. - Soon after, the horses decorated with the best string of sleigh bells the - livery could provide, he was holding the reins taut and sailing down - through the main street of the little mining town headed for the country. - He was going to the Shields ranch. Half a dozen invitations had been - extended him during the past weeks, and he told himself he had been - neglectful of his old employer. - </p> - <p> - When he reached the ranch and his team was duly stabled, the sleigh run in - out of the storm, he was cordially welcomed by the family before a roaring - fire of cheerfulness, and a multitude of questions were poured upon him. - </p> - <p> - “Why did you not come sooner and what about Major Hampton and the - smelter? We have heard all sorts of wonderful things?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, what have you heard about the Major?” inquired Roderick, - endeavoring to get a lead to the things that had evoked such surprise. - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you,” said Barbara. “Papa heard of it the - day before yesterday when he was in town. The stockholders were having a - meeting, and people said it had turned out to the surprise of everyone - that Major Hampton was the owner of a control of the company’s - stock.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick, “the rumor is correct. Great - things have indeed happened. But haven’t you heard from Ben Bragdon?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a word.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I suppose he has been too busy reconstructing the by-laws and - the company’s affairs generally. Major Hampton has put him in as - attorney. There’s a financial plum for you, Miss Barbara.” - </p> - <p> - “And Mr. Carlisle?” she asked in great astonishment. - </p> - <p> - “Like W. B. Grady, he is down and out,” replied Roderick. - “There’s been a clean sweep. And behold in me a full-blossomed - member of the board of directors. Our chairman, the Major, has handed me - over a small library of books about smelting of ores, company management, - and so on. He tells me I’ve got to get busy and learn the business—that - I’m slated as vice-president and assistant manager, or something of - that kind. What do you think of all that, Mr. Shields? There’s a - rise in the world for your cowboy and broncho-buster of a few months ago.” - </p> - <p> - The cattle king and all the others warmly congratulated Roderick on his - rising fortunes. Dorothy now took the lead in the conversation. - </p> - <p> - “You folks, keep still a moment until I ask Mr. Warfield just one - question,” she said eagerly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh,” exclaimed Roderick, quickly, “I can answer the - question. No, Grant Jones has not been over to Encampment for quite a - while.” - </p> - <p> - A general laugh followed. - </p> - <p> - “He has a devil over at his office,” added Roderick gravely. - </p> - <p> - “A what?” they exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “A devil. You surely know what a devil in a printing office is? It - is a young fellow who washes the ink from the rolls and cleans the type or - something of that sort—sweeps out, makes fires and does a wholesale - janitor business. If he is faithful for fifteen or twenty years, then he - learns to set type and becomes a printer. Grant is breaking his new devil - in. Scotty Meisch, formerly one of your father’s cowboys, is his - name.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, little Scotty,” exclaimed Barbara. “I remember him.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, does that necessarily keep Grant away?” asked Dorothy. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, he is not necessarily kept away. He is probably a believer, - Miss Dorothy, that absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ I was very - disappointed,” Roderick went hurriedly on, smiling, “that - Grant was not in town to share the sleigh with me in coming over this - morning. Of course he doesn’t know it yet, but he also has been - elected as one of the directors of the Encampment Mine and Smelter - Company.” - </p> - <p> - “He has?” exclaimed Dorothy, her face lighting: “My - word, but he’ll be all puffed up, won’t he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no,” replied Roderick, “Grant is a very sensible - fellow and he selects his friends and associates with marked - discrimination.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, that’s what I think,” concurred Dorothy - emphatically. - </p> - <p> - She was not a little embarrassed by a second ebullition of general - laughter. There was a flush of rising color on her pretty cheeks. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I don’t care,” she added bravely. “If I - like anybody I let them know about it, and that’s all there is to be - said.” - </p> - <p> - While luncheon was in progress, Roderick suggested that as the sleighing - was very good and his sleigh a very large one—the seat exceedingly - wide—the young ladies should come sleigh-riding with him in the - afternoon. - </p> - <p> - “Splendid,” shouted the sisters in unison. “Certainly, - we will be delighted provided mother has no objections.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, good-naturedly. “This first - snow of the season makes me feel like having a sleigh-ride myself. But, - there, your seat certainly won’t take four of us, and I know that - Mr. Shields is too busy to think of getting out his sleigh this afternoon.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I’LL tell you what I’ll do, Mrs. Shields,” - said Roderick, stirring his coffee. “I’ll take you for a ride - first. We will go as far as the river and back again, and then if the - young ladies are real good why of course I’ll give them the next - spin.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, “you young people go on and - have your sleigh ride and a good time.” - </p> - <p> - “No,” objected Barbara. “You shall have the first sleigh - ride, Mama, and if you don’t go then Dorothy and I stay at home.” - </p> - <p> - “Come now, Mrs. Shields,” urged Roderick, “accept my - invitation, for I see if you don’t I shall not be able to persuade - the young ladies to come.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Mother,” said Dorothy, “it is just lovely of him - to invite you, and certainly the sleigh ride will be invigorating. The - truth is, we girls will enjoy the ride afterwards doubly if we know you - have had the first ride of the season before we have ours.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well,” said Mrs. Shields, “since you all insist, - so let it be.” - </p> - <p> - Soon after Roderick’s team was hitched to the sleigh and came - jingling down to the front gate. Mrs. Shields was tucked snugly in under - the robes and away they dashed with sleigh bells jingling, down the road - towards the Platte River several miles away. - </p> - <p> - When they got back Barbara and Dorothy were in readiness, and Roderick - started away with them amid much merry laughter and promises from the - girls to be home when they got home but not before. The snow was still - falling in great big flakes and the cushion beneath the runners was soft - and thick. Mile followed mile, and it was late in the afternoon when the - sleighing party found themselves in Encampment. Roderick insisted that the - young ladies should have supper at the Hotel Bonhomme; they would start on - the return trip home immediately afterwards. - </p> - <p> - When the sleigh drove up to the hotel, who should be looking out of the - front door but Grant Jones? He rushed outside and assisted the sisters to - alight. - </p> - <p> - “I will be back in a few minutes,” shouted Roderick, as he - dashed away to the livery stable. - </p> - <p> - “Say, Joe,” said Roderick while the horses were being - unhitched, “I will want the rig again after dinner, and Grant Jones - will also want a sleigh.” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” replied the stableman. “I can fix him out - all right and everything will be in readiness. Just telephone and I’ll - send the rip over to the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - At the dinner table Grant Jones was at his best. He had already heard - about the Smelter Company affairs and his own election as a director, and - waved the topic aside. It was the surprise of seeing Dorothy that filled - him with good-humor and joviality. As the meal progressed he turned to - Roderick and said: “Oh, yes, Roderick, I’ve just been hearing - from Scotty Meisch that during the summer months you learned to be a great - trout fisherman.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick with a smile, “I certainly had a - great trout-fishing experience.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” asked Barbara quickly. - </p> - <p> - “On the South Fork of the Encampment River.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mr. Roderick Warfield,” said Barbara quite emphatically, - “I invited you to go trout fishing with me a good many times, and - you told me I should be the one to teach you the gentle art. Instead of - this you go away and learn to catch trout all alone. How many did you - catch?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick reddened with embarrassment. - </p> - <p> - “Twenty-six,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “Well, that was a pretty good catch for a novice. How big were they?” - </p> - <p> - “About two pounds,” Roderick answered, absent-mindedly. - </p> - <p> - Grant Jones was fairly choking with laughter. “I say, Barbara,” - he began. - </p> - <p> - “I didn’t go trout fishing alone,” interrupted Roderick - quickly. - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Barbara,” persisted Grant, calling to her across - the table. But Barbara was all attention to Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Who went with you?” she inquired. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Gail Holden,” he replied and his face was actually - crimson. - </p> - <p> - Barbara laid down her knife and fork and leaned back in her chair, placed - her arms akimbo with her pretty hands on her slender waist line, and - looked at Roderick as if she were an injured child. Finally she said: - “Trifler!” Then everybody laughed at Roderick’s - confusion. - </p> - <p> - But he quickly recovered himself. - </p> - <p> - “Trifler yourself!” he laughed back in rejoinder. “What - about Ben Bragdon? What would he have said had we gone trout-fishing - together?” - </p> - <p> - “You were not out of the running then,” said Barbara archly. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, I was, although the secret was to be kept until after the - nomination for senator.” - </p> - <p> - It was Barbara’s turn now to blush. She looked around in some - bewilderment. Grant had bestowed a vigorous kick on Roderick’s shins - beneath the table. Only then did Roderick realize that he had broken a - confidence. Dorothy was eyeing Grant reproachfully. It was a case of - broken faith all round. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you sisters have no secrets from each other,” exclaimed - Roderick, meeting the situation with a bright smile. “In just the - same way Grant and I are chums and brothers. Besides it was a friendly - warning. I was saved in time from the danger of shattered hopes and a - broken heart, Miss Barbara.” - </p> - <p> - “So went fishing for consolation,” she replied with a smile. - </p> - <p> - “And found it,” laughed Grant. - </p> - <p> - “Who says that?” demanded Roderick, sternly. “Miss - Holden would have every reason seriously to object.” - </p> - <p> - “The devil says it,” replied Grant, assuming a grave - countenance. - </p> - <p> - “That’s a poor joke,” said Roderick, offended. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Scotty Meisch is an observant lad,” remarked the editor - drily. - </p> - <p> - “The printer’s devil!” cried Dorothy, clapping her - hands. And all four laughed heartily—Roderick most heartily of all - despite his momentary dudgeon. - </p> - <p> - “Then since all these whispers are going about,” remarked - Barbara when quiet was restored, “I think it will be advisable for - me to have a heart-to-heart talk with Gail.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, please don’t,” faltered Roderick. “Really, - you know, there’s no foundation for all this talk—all this - nonsense.” - </p> - <p> - “Indeed? Then all the more need for me to drop her a friendly - warning—guard her against shattered hopes and a broken heart and all - that sort of thing.” - </p> - <p> - The tables were fairly turned, but Barbara, with quick woman’s wit, - saw that Roderick was really pained at the thought lest Gail Holden might - learn of this jesting with her name. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t be afraid,” she said, reassuringly. “We - three will keep your secret, young man. We are all chums and brothers, - aren’t we now?” And with one accord, laughing yet serious too, - they all shook hands to seal the bond, and any breaches of confidence in - the past were forgiven and forgotten. - </p> - <p> - It had been a merry supper party, but it was now time to be starting for - the ranch. As they rose from the table Roderick turned to Grant and said: - “You will have to excuse me, old boy, as I am taking the ladies - home.” - </p> - <p> - “Taking the ladies home? Well, ain’t I goin’ along?” - asked Grant, with a doleful look at Dorothy. - </p> - <p> - “No room in our sleigh,” said Roderick coldly. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick,” said Grant, half sotto voce, “you are cruel.” - But Roderick was unsympathetic and did not even smile. He turned away - indifferently. Drawing Barbara aside, he told her in an undertone of the - arrangements he had made with the livery stable for an extra sleigh. - </p> - <p> - “Then you’ll be alone with me,” she said, with an amused - smile. “Won’t you be afraid? Broken heart, etc?” - </p> - <p> - “Not now,” he replied sturdily. - </p> - <p> - “Or of Mr. Bragdon? He mightn’t like it, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’m not afraid of him,” laughed Roderick. “And - I guess he will trust me—and you,” he added gently and with a - chivalrous little bow. - </p> - <p> - Shortly the sleighs were brought round to the hotel. Grant was beside - himself with delight when he discovered the extra rig for himself and - Dorothy, and he laughingly shouted to Roderick: “I say, old man, you’re - the best ever.” Soon the merrymakers were tucked snugly beneath the - lap robes, and were speeding over the glistening expanse of snow to the - joyous tinkle of the silver bells. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK WARFIELD’S - election to a seat on the board of directors of the Encampment Mine and - Smelter Company had for him a series of most unexpected consequences. He - had had no knowledge that Uncle Allen Miller and a number of his financial - followers in Iowa were now large stockholders in the corporation. Nor had - he been aware that Major Buell Hampton, after his journey to New York, had - visited the Keokuk banker. The Major had learned from his brokers in Wall - Street that Allen Miller was on the market for this particular stock and - had already acquired a considerable holding. Hence his flying business - visit to Keokuk, which had resulted in the combination of forces that had - gained the control and ousted Grady, Carlisle, and their pawns on the old - directorate. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton had since been in continuous correspondence with the banker, - but had never for a moment associated the names of Allen Miller and - Roderick Warfield as having any possible connection by relationship or - otherwise. The selection of the new board had been left entirely in Buell - Hampton’s hands after the banker had given his assent to the - profit-sharing scheme. That assent had not been won without considerable - argument. The plan upset all the banker’s old theories about - industrial enterprises. At the same time the shrewd old man of finance was - reading the signs of the times, and had long since come to realize that a - readjustment of the relations between capital and labor was inevitable. He - was all the more inclined to make this experiment, in the first place - because he was not going to be bothered with the working out of the - practical details, and in the second place because the magnetic - personality of Buell Hampton had at once inspired him with confidence both - in his ability to do things and in his integrity. Therefore the shrewd old - banker had fallen in with the Major’s plans, and given him a free - hand when entrusting him with the powers of attorney for himself and the - other Iowan stockholders. - </p> - <p> - In point of fact there was another secret motive animating Allen Miller to - this line of action. Unless he cooperated with Buell Hampton, the control - would remain with W. B. Grady and his associates. And it was Grady whom - the banker was after—Grady, the financial shark who had robbed his - lifelong friend, General John Holden, of his underlying bonds in the - original and now defunct smelter company, at the time when the - amalgamation scheme had been devised to freeze out the first founders of - the enterprise. General Holden had been the chief victim of this rapacious - trick of financial jugglery, and Allen Miller was working secretly to undo - the wrong. But the banker was animated not only by reasons of friendship. - He had another incentive almost as strong. He wanted to satisfy his keen - sense of personal pride toward Roderick Warfield. For the vital cause of - quarrel between the old banker and the youth he loved yet had disowned was - the unnamed girl he had thrust upon Roderick as a suitable bride because - of her fortune. And this fortune had been proved to be illusory on the - very day succeeding the rupture that had culminated in Roderick’s - fine display of scorn and anger, when he had flung himself out of the - banker’s room and started off for parts unknown to fight his own way - in the world. - </p> - <p> - It was the financial disaster which had overtaken General Holden that had - opened Allen Miller’s eyes to the truth that he had been utterly - wrong in his attempted methods of managing a headstrong, and as the old - guardian had thought at the time a wayward, youth like Roderick Warfield. - He had bitterly regretted the harsh words that had dared the offender to - play football with the world and, as he now realized, had by their - sarcastic bitterness driven the high-mettled young man from his boyhood - home. He had never doubted Roderick’s prowess to make a way for - himself by his own unaided efforts, and, despite the quarrel, had always - felt sure of the lad’s affection. So Roderick one day would come - back, to find the latchstring hanging outside the door of his home, the - promised place in the bank still awaiting him, and—the pride and - dogged determination of the old man would not yield the point—the - rich, attractive, and in every way highly eligible bride still available. - The only flaw in the program was Gail Holden’s fall from fortune, - and to repair this had been the object of the banker’s continuous - and strenuous endeavor. - </p> - <p> - He had grabbed at the chance of lending money on the Mine and Smelter - Company bonds standing in the name of W. B. Grady, which bonds he - considered were by moral right really the property of General Holden. But - he had lent discreetly, postponing any big advance while he held the - documents and nosed around for information that might give some valid - reason to dispute their ownership. And in course of time he had made one - surprising discovery. Obtaining from General Holden all correspondence - with Grady, he had found one sentence in which the sponsor for the new - amalgamation scheme had guaranteed the withdrawal of all underlying bonds - in the old smelter company before the scheme would be put through. Yet - this condition had not been complied with, for Allen Miller had, in the - course of tracing every old bond, discovered that five were still in - existence and had never been surrendered. They belonged to a widow away - back in Pennsylvania who had gone to Europe and whose whereabouts at the - time Grady apparently had not been able to ascertain. But the persistent - old banker had followed the trail and through his agents in France had - purchased this particular parcel of bonds at a high figure. They were few - in number and insignificant in face value, but to Allen Miller they were - priceless, for these underlying bonds put W. B. Grady in his power and - could be made the means eventually of compelling restitution to General - Holden of the fortune that had been filched from him. Grady would have to - make good or face the criminal charge of a fraudulent transaction. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton had been told nothing about this—it was sufficient for - Allen Miller’s immediate purpose to have the company control wrested - without delay out of Grady’s hands. This would render litigation - easier, perhaps avoid it altogether—the better alternative, for the - law’s harassing delays and heart-sickening uncertainties are - proverbial. So when Buell Hampton had come to Keokuk in the cause of - humanity, to fight for the toilers at the smelter and in the big mine, he - had been agreeably surprised to find in the old banker such a ready - listener to his philanthropic arguments. The alliance had been struck, - with the result that Buell Hampton had been able to swing the stockholders’ - meeting exactly as he desired. - </p> - <p> - Up to the very eve of that meeting the Major had kept his counsel and held - his hand. The merest hint of the power he possessed might have given time - for so astute a knave as Grady to devise some means more or less - unscrupulous of repelling the attack. Therefore Buell Hampton had not - dropped one word of what he intended to do until he had spoken to Roderick - in his home on the night before the stockholders’ meeting. Little - did either of them know at that time how vitally and directly Roderick was - interested in the outcome of the Major’s fight for the downtrodden - poor. - </p> - <p> - After the eventful meetings of stockholders and directors it had been - Buell Hampton’s first duty to send a full report of the proceedings - to Allen Miller of Keokuk, whose power of attorney had enabled him to - effect the coup deposing Grady and giving a share of the profits to the - actual toilers at the furnaces and in the mine. In the course of this - report the names of the new directors were set forth. Judge of the old - banker’s utter amazement when his eyes fell upon the name of—Roderick - Warfield. Surprise quickly yielded to joy and delight. The news was - telephoned to Aunt Lois. The old banker could not leave town at the moment—an - issue of city bonds required his close attention. But that very night an - envoy was dispatched to Wyoming in the person of his bright and trusted - young clerk, Whitley Adams. - </p> - <p> - And the first of the series of surprises for Roderick Warfield, one - afternoon a few days after the sleigh ride, was the sight of his old - college chum tumbling out of a bob-sled which, in default of coaching - facilities, had brought him over from the railroad at Rawlins. Whitley had - stopped the sled in the main street along which, in the crisp sunshine - that had followed the heavy snowfall, Roderick happened to be strolling. - </p> - <p> - “Hello, old scout,” cried the new arrival with all the ease of - a veteran globe-trotter. - </p> - <p> - “Where in thunder did you drop from!” exclaimed Roderick, - clutching at his hand. - </p> - <p> - “From Iowa’s sun-kissed cornfields to Wyoming’s - snow-capped hills,” laughed Whitley, humming the tune of the hymn he - was parodying. - </p> - <p> - “What has brought you here?” - </p> - <p> - “Lots of things. A letter for you, to begin with.” - </p> - <p> - “From whom?” - </p> - <p> - “Your Uncle Allen Miller.” - </p> - <p> - “But he doesn’t know I’m here, does he?” - </p> - <p> - “The whole world knows you’re here, dear boy,” replied - Whitley, pulling the latest issue of the <i>Encampment Herald</i> out of - his pocket. “Why, you’ve become famous—a director of the - great smelting corporation.” And he flourished the journal aloft. - </p> - <p> - “Who sent you that paper?” - </p> - <p> - “Major Buell Hampton, of course. At least he sent it to your uncle.” - </p> - <p> - “Get out. You’re kidding, Whitley.” - </p> - <p> - “No kidding about me, old man. Those irresponsible days are now - over.” Whitley drew himself up with great dignity. “If Buell - Hampton hasn’t told you that he came to Keokuk and made the - acquaintance of Banker Allen Miller, well, that’s his affair, not - mine. Where shall we have dinner? I’m as hungry as a grizzly.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait a moment, Whitley. Do you mean to tell me Uncle Allen knows - the Major?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure. They’ve been as thick as thieves—or rather I - should say as close as twins—Oh, that reminds me. How are dear - Barbara and Dorothy?” - </p> - <p> - “Shut up—stop your nonsense. What were you going to say?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, just this, that ever since the Major paid us a visit at Keokuk, - letters have been passing nearly every week between him and the banker. I’ve - seen all the correspondence.” - </p> - <p> - “I have known nothing about this,” said Roderick, in great - perplexity. - </p> - <p> - “Well, doubtless you are not in the same confidential position as I - occupy,” replied Whitley airily. “But of course now that you - are a director of the company you’ll come to know—or at least - should know; that’s part of your duties—that Allen Miller is a - big stockholder.” - </p> - <p> - There flashed to Roderick’s mind Buell Hampton’s vague - reference, on the night preceding the stockholders’ meeting, to some - new friend, a professional man of finance, with whom he held joint control - of the company’s stock. - </p> - <p> - “A true friend of humanity,” he murmured, recalling the Major’s - words. “Great Scott, that’s about the last identification tag - I would have expected for Uncle Allen.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, old chap,” interposed Whitley, “don’t - mumble in conundrums. You take it from me that Buell Hampton and your - uncle are financial pals—associates might be the more dignified - word. That’s no doubt why the Major nominated you for the board of - directors.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick paled. - </p> - <p> - “By God, if that’s the case, I’ll resign tomorrow. I’ve - been standing on my own feet here. I owe nothing to Uncle Allen.” - </p> - <p> - “There now, put all that touchy pride in your pocket, Roderick. By - jingo, you’re worse than Banker Miller himself. But I took the old - gentleman down a few pegs the afternoon he learned that you were in - Wyoming,” Whitley rambled on, laughing. “He declared that I - must have known your hiding place all the time.” - </p> - <p> - “And you answered?” - </p> - <p> - “Owned up at once, of course. Told him that others besides himself - could be trusted with a confidence—that neither he nor anybody else - could have bulldosed me into betraying a client. A client—that’s - what I called you, old man. Oh, you can’t give me business points - nowadays. What do you think he said in reply?” - </p> - <p> - “Ordered you out of the room, I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - “Not on your life! Commended my sagacity, my trustworthiness; told - me again that I was a born banker, one after his own heart. And to show - that he meant what he said, he raised my salary five dollars a week, and - handed me over fifty dollars extra spending money for this trip. What do - you think of that?” - </p> - <p> - “I can’t express a thought—I’m too much surprised - over the whole train of events.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I suppose he knew I’d have to buy a few boxes of candy - for the beautiful Wyoming girls,” Whitley went on. “I had told - him after my first trip here that they were regular stunners—that - they had been buzzing about me like flies around a pot of honey. Oh, he - laughed all right. I know how to manage the old fellow—was half - afraid he’d be coming along himself instead of sending me this time. - But he bade me tell you he couldn’t possibly get away from Keokuk - just now. Which reminds me—here’s your letter, old man; and - one, too, from Aunt Lois. She saw me off at the train, and gave me a kiss - to pass on to you.” Whitley, a bunch of letters in his hand, made a - movement as if to bestow upon Roderick the osculatory salute with which - he had been entrusted. But Roderick, smiling in spite of himself, pushed - him back. - </p> - <p> - “You irrepressible donkey: Hand over my letters.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, the letters.” Whitley began to sort the bunch of - correspondence. “This is for Buell Hampton. And this is for Ben - Bragdon. I suppose he’s in town?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. But he’s pretty busy.” - </p> - <p> - “Won’t be too busy to attend to me, I reckon. Then W. B. Grady”—he - was fingering a neatly folded, legal looking document “I hope that - Grady hasn’t cleared out from Encampment yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Not that I’ve heard. In fact I saw him on the street this - morning. You seem to have business with everyone in town.” - </p> - <p> - “Just about hits it, old man. And General John Holden. Ah, yes, that - reminds me,” Whitley suspended his sorting of the letters, and - looked up. “How’s the college widow, old man?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick reddened. - </p> - <p> - “That’s all off,” he answered stiffly. - </p> - <p> - “I guessed that’s just what would happen. Best so, by a long - chalk, So Stella Rain is free again. Guess I’ll stop off on my way - home, and take a run to Galesburg. Nice girl, you know, Stella. No saying - but I might make an impression now she is”— - </p> - <p> - “Stella Rain is married,” interrupted Roderick, speaking - sharply and shortly. - </p> - <p> - “You don’t say? Too bad.” - </p> - <p> - “Happily married, I tell you—to some rich fellow.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, then, she threw you over, did she? Ho, ho, ho! But that’s - all right, old fellow. Saves all complications. And Gail, how’s - Gail? Oh, she’s a pipit pin. - </p> - <p> - “By gad, Whitley, you shut up. Come and have your dinner. But you - haven’t given me my letters yet.” - </p> - <p> - “Ah, I forgot Well this one is for General Holden. I’ve got to - see him at once.” - </p> - <p> - “What about?” - </p> - <p> - “Confidential business, my friend. Ask no questions for I want to be - spared the pain of refusing you the slightest information. Great guns, - Rod, we financial men, you know, hold more secrets than a father - confessor. We’ve got to keep our mouths shut all the time, even to - our best friends. This is my letter of credit to your local bank—no - limit, mind you, on my sight drafts on Keokuk. Ah, yes, here are your - letters—one from Aunt Lois, the other from your old guardian. Hope - he has put a fat check inside.” - </p> - <p> - “I don’t need his checks—if there’s any check - here, you can take it back.” And Roderick ripped open the envelope. - </p> - <p> - But there was no offending slip of colored paper enclosed, and he thrust - both the letters unread into his pocket. - </p> - <p> - “Now we’ll dine,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “A moment, please.” And Whitley turned to the driver of the - bob-sled waiting in the middle of the road. - </p> - <p> - “Go and get your dinner, my man,” he called out. “Then - hitch fresh horses in that sled, and come to my hotel, the Bonhomme; that’s - the best place in town, if I remember right, Roderick,” he said with - a glance at his friend. Then he continued to the driver: “Charge - everything to me, and don’t be longer than a couple of hours. Now - come along, Roderick. You dine with me—oh, I have an ample expense - fund. But I’m sorry I’ll have to leave you immediately after - dinner.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick was overwhelmed by all this grandiloquence. He hardly dared to - take his old chum’s arm as they walked along the street. But at last - he stopped, burst out laughing, and slapped the man of affairs squarely - between the shoulders. - </p> - <p> - “Whitley, old chap, you’re a wonder. You play the part to - perfection.” - </p> - <p> - “Play the part?” protested Whitley, with a fine assumption of - dignity. “I <i>am</i> the part—the real thing. I’m your - rich old uncle’s right hand man, and don’t you forget it. - Would a little ready cash now be a convenience?” - </p> - <p> - Then Whitley’s arm went round his comrade’s neck, and with a - simultaneous whoop of laughter they passed into the hotel. - </p> - <p> - But during the next twenty-four hours Roderick saw very little of his - college chum. And during the same period the said college chum - accomplished some very remarkable things. Immediately after dinner the - bob-sled sped out to Conchshell ranch, and General Holden signed the legal - papers that attached, as a measure of precaution, the bonds standing in - the name of W. B. Grady and now in the custody of the bank at Keokuk as - security for a loan. And for half the night Attorney Ben Bragdon and - Whitley Adams were closeted with W. B. Grady in a private parlor of the - hotel, and the fight was fought out for legal possession of the - fraudulently acquired bonds—a fight that put the issue squarely up - to Grady whether he would accept Banker Allen Miller’s terms of - surrender or face a criminal charge. It was in the grey of the breaking - dawn that the vanquished Grady crept out of the hotel, wiping the beads of - cold sweat from his brow, while Whitley was quietly folding up the - properly signed transfers that gave back to General Holden bonds of equal - value to those of which he had been robbed by false pretences and promises - never fulfilled. - </p> - <p> - In the morning Whitley was again at the Conchshell ranch, and breakfasted - with the General and his daughter. It was the latter who bound him to - secrecy—to the solemn promise that neither he nor Mr. Bragdon should - divulge to anyone the story of this restored family fortune. Gail declared - that she was going to make good with her dairy cattle venture, that - neither she nor her father wanted to return to the old life of fashion and - society at Quincy, that they had no wish to appear as rich folks. Whitley - listened to all the arguments, understood, and promised. And that the - transfer of the bonds should not be connected with General Holden’s - name it was agreed that for the present they should pass to Banker Allen - Miller as family trustee. - </p> - <p> - Whitley’s chest had expanded fully two inches when he drove away, - the trusted emissary for the carrying into effect of these decrees. He had - had a few minutes alone with Gail and, introducing the name of Roderick - Warfield in a casual way, had assured her that he, like everyone else, - would know nothing about these strictly family affairs. She had blushed a - little, reiterated her thanks, and at parting had, he could have sworn, - given him an extra friendly pressure of her dainty little fingers. - </p> - <p> - Whitley drove straight to Ben Bragdon’s office, and took the - precaution of adding to the professional seal of secrecy a direct - expression from the General of his wishes in the matter. - </p> - <p> - During the afternoon the young banker from Keokuk personally delivered the - letter from Allen Miller addressed to Major Buell Hampton. Whitley had - insisted upon Roderick accompanying him. The relationship between Roderick - and Banker Miller was now revealed. The Major received the news without - much surprise. - </p> - <p> - “In the loom of life,” he said, with great solemnity, “the - shuttle of destiny weaves the threads of individual lives into a pattern - which is only disclosed as time goes on. Thus are the destinies of men - interwoven without their knowing either the how or the why. Roderick, my - dear fellow, from this day on we are simply more closely bound to each - other than ever.” - </p> - <p> - The evening was spent at the Shields ranch. Whitley congratulated Barbara - on her engagement to Ben Bragdon, and then took Dorothy’s breath - away by congratulating her and the absent Grant Jones as well. - </p> - <p> - Dorothy blushed furiously, and disowned the soft impeachment; to which - Whitley replied that unless her sweetheart got busy promptly and toed the - line, he himself was coming back to Encampment to cut out so tardy a - wooer. “Tell Grant Jones from me,” he said, “that it’s - taking chances to leave the tempting peach upon the tree.” She - slapped his hand playfully for his audacity, and Roderick hurried the - flippant financier out of the room. - </p> - <p> - At midnight, in the bright moonlight, Whitley departed for Rawlins to - catch his train. Nothing could persuade him to prolong his visit—Banker - Miller would be hopping around like a cat on hot bricks, the bank going to - wreck and ruin if he did not hurry back, the girls of Keokuk growing quite - jealous of the beauties of Wyoming. - </p> - <p> - Like a whiff of sweet perfume the joyous youth was gone. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OTWITHSTANDING - their change in fortunes, - </p> - <p> - Roderick and Grant still made the editor’s shack their home—the - old place endeared to them by many fond associations. A few days after - Whitley Adams’ visit they were seated at the breakfast table, and - Grant had proposed that they should go deer hunting. - </p> - <p> - “Excellent weather,” he explained, “as the snow is just - deep enough up in the mountains to drive the deer down. Finest sport in - the world. Nothing like going after big game.” - </p> - <p> - “You almost persuade me,” said Roderick, setting down his - coffee and looking at Grant with increased interest. “All the same I - hate to leave the smelter plant even for a day or two. You see I’m - just beginning to get a hang of the business, and I’ve quite made up - my mind to master it.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, let it rip. You’re not tied down to the works, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not—you don’t imagine I think myself - qualified as yet to be tied down. ‘But what about guns?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well,” said Grant, “I have a.32 Winchester, one - that has got a record too, by gunnies, as Jim Rankin would say. Its record - is great.” - </p> - <p> - “How big a record?” inquired Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Seven deer,” answered Grant. - </p> - <p> - “All your own killing?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, no. To be downright truthful since you force me to - particularize, I’ll admit I never killed but one deer with it. But - that does not interfere with the gun’s record.” And then he - continued: “I have no doubt Major Hampton will be delighted to loan - you his gun. He has a .30 calibre Government Springfield and in his hands - it has accounted for many a buck.” - </p> - <p> - After breakfast they called on Major Hampton. - </p> - <p> - “Good morning, gentlemen,” said the Major as he opened the - door and bade them welcome. - </p> - <p> - “We are going deer hunting,” said Grant, quite - enthusiastically. “I have a gun, but - this-would-be-slayer-of-big-game, Roderick, is gunless and when we return - he may be deerless. Was just wondering, Major, if you would care to loan - your famous deer killer to him. Guess its long record,” he added, - “would fill a book.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, certainly,” replied the Major in an absent-minded way; - and then presently he went on: “Do not interpret my hesitation as - unwillingness to accommodate you. It is well you came just when you did, - for within half an hour I myself will be starting for the mountains and my - mind was pre-occupied with my own little preparations.” - </p> - <p> - “Can’t you come with us, Major?” asked Grant. - </p> - <p> - “But I won’t be depriving you of your gun?” enquired - Roderick simultaneously. - </p> - <p> - “I answer ‘no’ to both questions,” was the smiling - response. “I am going out on one of my lonesome excursions—to - commune with Nature face to face for a brief spell. And when I go I need - no rifle—even the very deer there are my trustful friends.” - </p> - <p> - Then turning he took down his rifle from its accustomed place and brought - it over to Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “This old Springfield has served me well,” he said, smiling in - his own magnificent way. “It was my friend in dark days of need. In - my lifetime, gentlemen, I have never spilled the blood of any living thing - wantonly, and I do not believe man is justified in taking the life of even - a worm on the pathway, a rabbit in the hills, cattle or sheep in the - fields, or a deer in the wilds unless it is for food and to sustain life.” - </p> - <p> - Then suddenly looking at Grant the Major said: “I understand W. R. - Grady is up in the hills?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, so I have heard.” - </p> - <p> - “What is he doing? Looking for a mine?” - </p> - <p> - “Possibly. They say he is at the Thomas Boarding House most of the - time up at Battle.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess,” interrupted Roderick, “that he is not very - happy since the new order of things—your new plan, Major—put - him out of business.” - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps he is getting in touch again with his old heeler, Bud - Bledsoe,” suggested Grant. “That outlaw gang has been lying - low for quite a while, but I’m expecting to hear about some new bit - of deviltry any day. Am in need of a corking good newspaper story.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, since you are bent on hunting big game,” laughed the - Major, “these miscreants might provide you with all the exciting - sport you are wanting.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, a brace of good fat bucks will be good enough for us. Where’s - the likeliest place to start from, Major? You’re the local authority - on these matters.” - </p> - <p> - “You know where Spirit River Falls are?” asked Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - “I’ve heard of them but have never been there,” replied - Grant. - </p> - <p> - “I think that I’ve seen them from above,” observed - Roderick, “but I don’t know the way to them.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you know where Gid Sutton’s half-way house is located?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly,” replied Roderick. “I was there less than a - month ago.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Spirit River Falls are located about six or seven miles south - and east of the half-way house. I advise that one of you go up the South - Fork of the Encampment River and the other keep to the right and go over - the hills past Conchshell ranch into a park plateau to the south; then - have your meeting place this evening in an old log structure that you will - find about three-fourths of a mile directly through the timber southeast - from the falls. If you are wise, you will load up two or three burros, - send them with a trusty, and have him make camp for you in this old - deserted hut. You will find a cup of coffee, a rasher of bacon and a few - sandwiches very appetizing by the time you have tramped all day in your - deer-hunting quest And the country all around is full of deer.” - </p> - <p> - The young men thanked him warmly for his advice. - </p> - <p> - “In point of fact,” continued Buell Hampton, “I’ll - be up in the same region myself. But I’m travelling light and will - have the start of you. Moreover, we can very easily lose each other in - that rugged country of rocks and timber. But don’t mistake me for a - buck, Roderick, if you catch sight of my old sombrero among the brushwood;” - saying which he reached for the broad-brimmed slouch hat hanging against - the wall. - </p> - <p> - “I’ll take mighty good care,” replied Roderick. “But - I hope we’ll run up against you, Major, all the same.” - </p> - <p> - “No, you won’t find me,” answered Buell Hampton, with a - quiet smile. “I’ll be hidden from all the world. Follow the - deer, young men, and the best of luck to you.” - </p> - <p> - The two comrades started away in high feather, anticipating great results - from the tip given them by the veteran hunter. Going straight to the - livery bam, they rigged out three burros, and sent with them one of the - stablemen who, besides being a fairly good cook, happened to be familiar - with the trail to Spirit River Falls, and also knew the location of the - “hunter’s hut” as they found the old log structure - indicated by Buell Hampton was locally named. - </p> - <p> - These arrangements concluded, Roderick and Grant started for the hills. - Some half a mile from Encampment they separated—Jones going along - the east bank of the South Fork of the Encampment River and Roderick - following the North Fork until he came to Conchshell canyon. The day was - an ideal one for a deer hunt. There was not a breath of wind. The sky was - overcast in a threatening manner as if it were full of snow that was - liable to flutter down at the slightest provocation. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick reached the plateau that constituted the Conchshell ranch he - concluded to bear to the left and as he said to himself “Keep away - from temptation.” He was out hunting wild deer that day and he must - not permit himself to make calls on a sweet-throated songster like Gail. - On through the open fields and over the fences and into a thick growth of - pines and firs, where he plodded his way through snow that crunched and - cried loudly under his feet Indeed the stillness of everything excepting - his own walking began to grate on his nerves and he said to himself that - surely a whitetailed deer with ordinary alertness could hear him walking - even if it were half a mile away. - </p> - <p> - As he trudged along mile after mile he was very watchful for game or - tracks, but nothing stirred, no trace of deer was discernible in any - direction. He was following the rim of a hill surmounting some boxlike - canyons that led away abruptly to the left, while a smooth field or park - reached far to the right where the hills were well covered with timber. - Here and there an opening of several acres in extent occurred without bush - or shrub. - </p> - <p> - It was perhaps one o’clock in the afternoon and he was becoming a - bit leg-weary. Brushing the snow away from a huge boulder he seated - himself for a short rest. Scarcely had he done so than he noticed that - occasional flakes of snow were falling. “More snow,” he - muttered to himself, “and I am a good ways from a cup of coffee if I - am any judge.” - </p> - <p> - After he was rested he got up and again moved on. Just then, as he looked - down into a box canyon, he saw three deer—a doe and two half-grown - fawns. Quickly bringing his gun to his shoulder his first impulse was to - fire. But he realized that it would be foolish for the animals were at - least five hundred yards away and far below the elevation where he was - standing. - </p> - <p> - “No,” he said to himself, “I will leave the rim of this - mountain and get down into the canyon.” - </p> - <p> - He hastily retreated, and took a circuitous route intending to head off - the deer. In due time he approached the brow of the precipitous bluff and - after walking back and forth finally found a place where he believed he - could work his way down into the canyon. It was a dangerous undertaking—far - more so than Roderick knew—and might have proved his undoing. - </p> - <p> - He was perhaps half way down the side of the cliff, working his way back - and forth, when suddenly some loose stones slipped from under his feet and - away he went, sliding in a sitting position down the side of the mountain. - He had sufficient presence of mind to hold his gun well away from him to - prevent any possible accident from an accidental discharge. The cushioning - of the snow under him somewhat slowed his descent, yet he could not stop. - Down and down he went, meeting with no obstruction that might have given - him a momentary foothold. Presently he saw, to his great relief of mind, - that he was headed for a small fir tree that had rooted itself on a ledge - near the bottom of the canyon. A moment later his feet came thump against - its branches, and while the jar and shock of suddenly arrested motion were - very considerable yet they were not enough to be attended with any serious - consequences. - </p> - <p> - Somewhat dazed, he remained seated for a few moments. But soon he found - his footing, and pulling himself together, brushed away the snow from his - apparel and made sure that his gun was all right. After a glance around he - picked his way down some distance farther into the canyon, and then - turning to the right along a little ledge started in the direction where - he expected to sight the deer higher up the hill. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly he stopped. There were the deer tracks right before him going - down the gorge. - </p> - <p> - “By George,” he muttered aloud, “I did not get far - enough down. However, I will follow the tracks.” And forthwith he - started on the trail, cautiously but highly expectant. - </p> - <p> - The direction was westerly, but he had not gone far until the canyon made - an elbow turn to the south and then a little farther on to the east. - “I wonder,” said Roderick to himself, “what sort of a - maze I am getting into. This canyon is more crooked than an old-fashioned - worm fence or a Wyoming political boss.” - </p> - <p> - The box canyon continued to grow deeper and the rocky cliffs higher, - zig-zagging first one way and then another until Roderick gave up all - pretense of even guessing at the direction he was travelling. - </p> - <p> - “Strange I have never heard of this narrow box-canyon before,” - he thought. - </p> - <p> - After walking briskly along for about an hour, keeping the tracks of the - retreating deer in view, he suddenly came to an opening. A little valley - was spread out before him, and to his amazement there were at least a - hundred deer herded together in the park-like enclosure. - </p> - <p> - Roderick rubbed his eyes and looked up at the high and abrupt precipices - that surrounded this open valley on every side. It seemed to him that the - walls rose sheer and almost perpendicular several hundred feet to the - rocky rim above. He followed on down, filled with wonderment, and - presently was further astonished by finding several great bubbling - springs. Each basin was fully a hundred feet across, and the agitated - waters evidently defied freezing, for they fairly boiled in their - activity, overflowing and coming together to form quite a big tumbling - mountain stream. - </p> - <p> - Stealthily following on and keeping the great herd in view he mentally - speculated on the surprise he would give Grant Jones when he came to - display the proofs of his prowess as a hunter of the hills. Surely with - his belt full of cartridges and the large number of deer in sight, - although as yet too far away to risk a shot, he could add several antlered - heads to Grant’s collection. The stream grew larger. There were a - number of other springs feeding their surplus waters into brooks which - eventually all joined the main stream, and he mentally resolved that the - next time Gail and he went trout-fishing they would visit this identical - spot. He laughed aloud and asked the question: “Will she be mine so - that we may come together for a whole week into this beautiful dell?” - </p> - <p> - The farther he advanced the less snow he found in the strange, rock-fenced - valley. The grasses had grown luxuriantly in the summer season, and the - deer were browsing in seeming indifference to his presence yet moving on - away from him all the time. He began wondering if all this were a mirage - or a reality. He looked a second time at the slowly receding herd and - again he laughed aloud. “Such foolishness,” he exclaimed. - “It is an absolute reality, and right here I will make my name and - fame as a hunter.” - </p> - <p> - He stopped suddenly, for just across the stream, standing among the - boulders and pebbles of an old channel, were four deer, not two hundred - feet away. They were looking at him in mild-eyed wonder, one of them a - noble, splendidly antlered buck. Lifting the Major’s Springfield to - his shoulder Roderick sighted along the barrel and fired. Three of the - deer ran away. But the buck jumped high into the air, attempted to climb - the opposite bank, failed and fell backward. - </p> - <p> - Hurriedly crossing over the stream and slipping in his excitement off the - stones into knee-deep water, he came quickly up to the wounded deer. - Instantly the animal bounded to his feet, but fell again. Roderick fired a - second shot which reached a vital spot. The magnificent denizen of the - hills had been vanquished in the uneven contest with man’s superior - knowledge and deadly skill. - </p> - <p> - The novice in huntsman’s craft had received all sorts of book - instructions and verbal explanations from Grant Jones. So he at once drew - his hunting knife, thrust it into the jugular vein of the dying deer, and - bled him copiously. Only the hunter knows the exultant feelings of mingled - joy and excitement that possessed Roderick at that moment. His first deer! - Resting the gun against a small cottonwood tree that grew on a raised bank - between the old channel and the flowing waters, he walked to the stream, - washed the crimson from his knife, and returned the weapon to its sheath. - </p> - <p> - Then he looked around to get his bearings. He knew he had come with the - waters from what seemed to be a westerly direction. The stream was - evidently flowing toward the east. As he walked along in the old channel - over the sandbar he kicked the rocks and pebbles indifferently, and then - stopped suddenly, gasped and looked about him. - </p> - <p> - On every side the mountains rose precipitately fully six or seven hundred - feet. There was no visible outlet for the stream. - </p> - <p> - “Is it possible,” he exclaimed with bated breath, “that - I am in the lost canyon? And this,” he said, stooping down and - picking up a nugget of almost pure gold—“is this the sandbar - on which my father and Uncle Allen Miller found their treasure yeans and - years ago? Marvelous! Marvelous! Marvelous!” - </p> - <p> - For the moment the slain deer was forgotten. His achievement as a hunter - of big game no longer thrilled him. He was overwhelmed by a mightier surge - of emotion. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he said finally in a low voice of conviction, “this - at last is the lost find!” - </p> - <p> - And he sank down on the gold-strewn pebbly sandbar, limp and helpless, - completely overcome. - </p> - <p> - A minute later he had recovered his composure. He stood erect He gazed - down the valley. The startled herd of deer had vanished into the brushwood - and low timber. - </p> - <p> - But there, slowly ascending along the river bed, was the figure of Buell - Hampton. Roderick stood stockstill, lost in amazement, waiting. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>O IT is you who - have found my Hidden Valley,” said Buell Hampton as he drew near. - His voice had a regretful ring, but as he grasped Roderick’s hand he - added cordially: “I thank God it is you, Roderick. When I heard the - rifle shots I was afraid it might be Bud Bledsoe or some of his gang.” - </p> - <p> - “Your hidden valley, Major?” murmured Roderick, - interrogatively and with emphasis on the first word. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, my son—the valley from which I took the carload of rich - ore we sold in Denver.” - </p> - <p> - “Great guns, Major. I too have discovered gold—placer gold.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “At your feet. Look.” And Roderick stooped and picked up a - fine smooth-worn nugget as big as a pigeon’s egg. “Look, look, - look,” continued Roderick. “It is all around us on this - sandbar.” - </p> - <p> - “I did not happen on this spot,” said Buell Hampton. “The - fact is I hardly explored the valley at all. I had all the gold I wanted - or could ever want in my own find.” - </p> - <p> - “Then where is that find?” - </p> - <p> - “Lower down the stream—a dyke of porphyry and white quartz. - But you already know the kind of ore Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney - Earnest helped me to get out of the valley. It is quite different from - your gold.” - </p> - <p> - The Major stooped, and collected a handful of good-sized nuggets. - </p> - <p> - “How did you come to find this place, Roderick?” he asked, - gazing up at the sheer cliffs around them. - </p> - <p> - “I have been searching for it,” he replied, “since ever - I came to Wyoming. Oh, Major, it is a strange story. I hardly know where - to begin. But wait. Sit down on that boulder. I have my father’s - letter with me. You can read it and will then understand.” - </p> - <p> - From an inner pocket Roderick produced the map and letter which had never - left his possession, night or day, since his Uncle Allen had handed him - the sealed packet in the bank manager’s room at Keokuk. Without a - word Buell Hampton took the seat indicated, and after a preliminary glance - at the map proceeded to read the long epistle left by the old miner, John - Warfield, as a dying legacy to his son. Roderick sitting on his heels - watched in silence while the other read. - </p> - <p> - “Your father was a sensible man,” remarked Buell Hampton, as - at last he refolded the paper. “I like the spirit in which he wrote—the - fervent expression of his hope that this wealth will prove a blessing to - you instead of a disquieting evil. Yes, you have undoubtedly found your - father’s lost mine. But, Roderick, why did you not tell me of this - before? I would have gladly helped you to a quicker discovery. This map - here I would have recognized at a glance as the map of my happy retreat, - my Hidden Valley.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Major, I may seem to have been a bit reticent—or - independent, may I call it? But you will remember that it was early in our - intimacy when you showed me and the others those rich ore specimens in - your home. And you yourself were reticent—bound us to secrecy, yet - gave us no-single clue as to the whereabouts of your wonderful discovery.” - </p> - <p> - “Because I wanted to protect this place from intrusion—I - indulged in the dream that the treasure of the valley might be made to - fall only into worthy hands, which dream could never be realized unless I - guarded my secret from one and all.” - </p> - <p> - “Your sentiment I quite understand. But don’t you see, Major, - it was this very reticence on your part that made me reticent—that - virtually sealed my lips? I have often thought of showing you my father’s - letter, of telling the full reasons that brought me to Wyoming. But to - have done so after you had shown us that ore would have been simply to - press you for further information—to have asked you to divulge the - location of your mine which you had resolved to keep secret so that I - might possibly be assisted in the quest for my father’s lost claim. - I couldn’t do that I am sure you will now understand my feelings.” - </p> - <p> - “Fine feelings, Roderick,” exclaimed the Major, extending his - hand. “Feelings after my own heart I understand them, and can only - compliment you on your sturdy independence. But how did you get here?” - And again he glanced up the precipitous mountains. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I think I might almost say I tumbled down into the canyon,” - laughed Roderick. “I slipped and tobogganed down a steep slope. Then - I followed the tracks of four deer I was after, and found myself here. By - the way, have you looked at my splendid buck?” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton rose, and as if by force of habit drew his hunting knife and - proceeded to dress and gambrel the deer. Roderick watched the skilled - hands at work. Before many minutes the carcass was hanging on the peg of a - broken limb. - </p> - <p> - “Certainly, a fine buck,” remarked the Major, stepping back - admiringly. “Your first, I believe?” - </p> - <p> - “My very first.” - </p> - <p> - “Not often that a man kills his first deer and discovers a gold mine - on the same day, eh?” laughed Buell Hampton. “But where is - Grant Jones?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven’t seen him since morning. We followed your - directions, and took opposite sides of the river.” - </p> - <p> - “Then he will meet you tonight at the old log hut?” - </p> - <p> - “That’s our arrangement. But how are we to get out of this - box-canyon?” - </p> - <p> - “I can show you an easier way out than the toboggan slide by which - you came in,” replied the Major, smiling. “At the same time I - think I should prefer to follow your tracks, so that in the future I may - know this second means of access. I am afraid the secret of this little - sequestered valley can be no longer kept from the world. I presume you are - going to stake out a claim and record it.” - </p> - <p> - “You bet,” laughed Roderick. “There’s no sentiment - about sequestered valleys or happy retreats in my make-up. Great Scott, - there’s a cool million dollars of gold lying around right here. I’m - going to take no chances of the next man finding the spot. Isn’t - that common sense, Major?” - </p> - <p> - “No doubt,” replied Buell Hampton, “it is common sense - in your case. And you are obviously following your father’s bidding - in making the fullest and the best use of the wealth he tried so long in - vain to rediscover. Are you familiar with the regulations as to staking - out a claim?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes, I’ve posted myself on all that.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, choose your ground, and I’ll whittle your stakes.” - He rose and again unsheathed his hunting knife. - </p> - <p> - “Major,” cried Roderick, “along this old channel there’s - at least three men’s ground. We’ll stake for you and for me - and for Grant Jones.” - </p> - <p> - “But Grant Jones must have been on his claim before he can file on - it. That’s the law.” - </p> - <p> - “We’ll bring him down tomorrow morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Then, go ahead,” said the Major. “I think it is right - and proper to secure all the ground we can. I believe it will be all for - the best that it should be in our hands.” - </p> - <p> - Within an hour stakes had been placed at the corners of the three placer - claims, and the proper location notices, written on leaves torn from Buell - Hampton’s note book, affixed to a stake in the centre of each claim. - </p> - <p> - “I think that this complies with all legal requirements,” - remarked the Major, as they surveyed their workmanship. “Now, - Roderick, tit for tat. You will come down the valley with me, and we shall - secure, as lode claims, the porphyry dyke from which I have cut out merely - the rich outcrop.” - </p> - <p> - Another hour’s labor saw the second task completed. - </p> - <p> - They were back at Roderick’s sandbar, and had filled their pockets - with nuggets. - </p> - <p> - “Now for the ascent,” said Buell Hampton. “Tomorrow - morning we shall return, and breakfast here on your venison. Hurry up now; - the evening shadows are already falling.” - </p> - <p> - The trail left by Roderick and the four deer through the canyon and along - the <i>zigzag</i> gash in the mountains above the bubbling springs was - clearly traceable in the snow. When the narrow ledge by which Roderick had - descended into the gorge was reached the Major took the precaution of - blazing an occasional tree trunk for future direction. Progress was easy - until they reached the abrupt declivity down which the hunter had slipped. - A little farther along the deer appeared to have descended the steep - incline by a series of leaps. In the gathering dusk it was impossible to - proceed farther; steps would have to be cut or a careful search made for - some way around. - </p> - <p> - “We must go back,” said Buell Hampton. “Now I will show - you my means of access to the canyon—one of the most wonderful rock - galleries in the world.” - </p> - <p> - Retracing their footsteps they hastened along at the best speed possible, - and soon reached the tunnel into which the river disappeared. Producing - his electric torch, the Major prepared to lead the way. He lingered for - just a moment to gaze back into the canyon which was now enveloped in the - violet haze of eventide. - </p> - <p> - “Is it not lovely?” he murmured. “Alas, that such a - place of perfect peace and beauty should come to be deserted and - despoiled!” - </p> - <p> - Roderick was fingering the slugs of gold in his pocket. He followed the - direction of the Major’s eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it is all very beautiful,” he replied. “But - scenery is scenery, Major, and gold is gold.” - </p> - <p> - The little torch flashed like an evening star as they disappeared into the - grotto. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton and Roderick had gazed up the canyon. - </p> - <p> - But they had failed to observe two human forms crouched among the - brushwood not fifty yards away—the forms of Bud Bledsoe and Grady, - who had that morning tracked the Major from his home to the falls, under - the cataract, through the rock gallery, right into the hidden canyon, - intent on discovering the secret whence the carload of rich ore had come, - bent on revenge for Grady’s undoing with the smelting company when - the proper moment should arrive. - </p> - <p> - That night Buell Hampton, Roderick Warfield, and Grant Jones supped - frugally at the hunter’s hut on ham sandwiches and coffee. Down in - Hidden Valley on the gold-strewn sandbar W. B. Grady and his henchman - feasted royally on venison steaks cut from the fat buck Roderick’s - gun had provided. They had already torn down the location notices and - substituted their own. And far into the night by the light of their camp - fire the claim-jumpers searched for the nuggets among the pebbles and - gathered them into a little heap, stopping only from their frenzied quest - to take an occasional gulp of whiskey from the big flask without which Bud - Bledsoe never stirred. When daylight broke, exhausted, half-drunk, both - were fast asleep beside the pile of stolen gold. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>URING the night a - few flakes of snow had fallen—just the flurry of a storm that had - come and tired and paused to rest awhile. The morning broke grey and - sombre and intensely still; the mantle of white that covered the ground - and clung to bushes and tree branches seemed to muffle every sound; the - atmosphere was clear, but filled with brooding expectancy. - </p> - <p> - The three friends at the hunter’s hut were early astir. Roderick, - despite the fact that fortune had at last smiled and crowned with success - the prolonged quest for his father’s lost mine, was strangely - oppressed. Buell Hampton, too, was grave and inclined to silence. But - Grant Jones was gay and happy, singing blithely during the preparations - for breakfast. - </p> - <p> - On the previous night he had received the story of the find with exultant - delight. With such a rich mining claim all the ambitions of his life were - about to be realized. He would buy out his financial partners in the <i>Dillon - Doublejack</i> and publish it as a daily newspaper—hang the expense, - the country would grow and with it the circulation, and he would be in - possession of the field against all-comers. Then again he would acquire - the <i>Encampment Herald</i> although keeping on the brilliant Earle - Clemens as editor; also start another paper at Rawlins, and in a little - time run a whole string of journals, like some of the big newspaper men - whose names were known throughout the nation. Listening to these glowing - plans as they drank their morning coffee around the campfire, Roderick and - the Major could not but admire the boyish gaiety of this sanguine spirit. - </p> - <p> - “I’m going to propose to Dorothy tomorrow,” exclaimed - Grant by way of grand finale to his program of great expectations, “and - the Reverend Stephen Grannon will marry us before the week is out We’ll - spend our honeymoon in Chicago so that I can buy some new printing presses - and things. Then we’ll be back in time to bring out a grand - mid-winter number that will make all Wyoming sit up and take notice. By - gad, boys, it’s great to be a newspaper editor.” - </p> - <p> - “Better to be a newspaper proprietor,” laughed Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Or both combined,” suggested the Major. - </p> - <p> - “There you’ve hit it,” cried Grant. “And that’s - just the luck that has come my way at last—thanks to you, Roderick, - old scout, and to you, Major, as well.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no,” protested Buell Hampton. “With your happy - disposition and great capacity for work, success was bound to be yours, my - dear fellow. The manner of its coming is a mere detail.” - </p> - <p> - “That’s the way a good friend cloaks good deeds,” - replied Grant. “However, we’ll let it go at that. Pass the - frying pan please; this bacon’s just fine.” Plans for the day - were carefully discussed. The man in charge of the burros had not been - taken into their confidence; as a member of the expedition he would be - properly looked after later on, but meanwhile strict secrecy was the only - wise policy until the location papers had been properly filed at the - county seat, Rawlins. This filing would undoubtedly be the signal for a - rush of all the miners and prospectors within a hundred miles of the - little treasure valley among the hills. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there will be a regular stampede,” remarked the Major—“provided - the snow holds off,” he added with a glance at the grey canopy of - cloud overhead. - </p> - <p> - “I think we are in for another storm,” said Grant, gazing - around. “If so, the whole country will be sealed up until the - spring.” - </p> - <p> - “Which is not the worst thing that might happen,” commented - Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - “Would certainly give us ample time to make all our arrangements for - the future,” concurred Roderick. - </p> - <p> - It was agreed that they would take with them that morning the sacks in - which the provisions had been brought up, and bring back as much gold as - they could carry. For a moment Grant and Roderick discussed the - advisability of leaving their guns behind. But there were outlaws among - the mountains, and it was deemed prudent to carry the weapons. - </p> - <p> - All preparations were now completed, and a start was made, the stableman - being left in charge of the camp with instructions to have a good fire of - embers ready for the brisket of venison they would return with about the - noontide hour. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton led the way at a swinging gait, - </p> - <p> - Roderick followed, then came Grant Jones singing lustily: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “As I was coming down the road, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Tired team and a heavy load, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I cracked my whip and the leader sprang - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - A little way down the hill Grant called a halt He had discovered on the - light dusting of overnight snow the tracks of a big bear, and for the - moment everything else was forgotten. Bear-hunting to him was of more - immediate interest than gold-hunting, and but for the restraining hand of - Buell Hampton the ardent young sportsman would have started on the trail. - </p> - <p> - “Let’s stop a while,” he pleaded. “Just look at - those pads. A great big cinnamon bear—a regular whale.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no,” said the Major decisively, again glancing at the - sky. “We must press on.” - </p> - <p> - “I’d like a hug all right,” laughed Roderick, “but - not from a cinnamon bear in a snowdrift.” - </p> - <p> - “Gee, but I’m sorry I left my dogs at Dillon,” remarked - Grant regretfully. “The last thing I said to Scotty Meisch was to - look after the dogs even if the printing press burned. There’s no - friend like a good dog, Major.” - </p> - <p> - “Rather a doubtful compliment,” replied Buell Hampton with a - smile. - </p> - <p> - “Present company always excepted,” laughed the editor - adroitly. “Well, well; we must let Mr. Bruin go this time. Lead on, - Macduff, lead on.” - </p> - <p> - And again as he fell into Indian file he sang his song. - </p> - <p> - The lilt and the words of that song, the picture of the stalwart figure in - the pride of young manhood carolling gaily while marching along through - the brushwood and down the timbered hillside, were des-tined never to fade - from the memory of Roderick Warfield. With a sob in his heart he would - recall the scene many and many a time in the days to come. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile at the camp fire in Hidden Valley, Grady and Bud Bledsoe were - also afoot. They had awaked from their half drunken slumber, chilled to - the very marrow of their bones. Even the sight of the heap of nuggets - could not at first restore warmth to their hearts. There was no whiskey - left in the flask—not a drain. Their teeth chattering, they piled - fresh brush on the camp fire, and then a half-rotted tree stump that soon - burst into flame. Then when warmth at last crept through their frames, - they too made their plans for the day. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton and Roderick Warfield might come back. Perhaps they had - camped all night in the mountain cave. In any case it would be safer to - leave the canyon by the other way—by the trail along which Roderick - must have entered and which was quite clearly defined in the snow as it - led up the gorge. Yes; they would clear out in that direction, and Bud - Bledsoe, who knew every track among the mountains, further proposed that - they would then cross the range and take the west road to Rawlins. With a - price on his head he himself could not enter the town—although a - little later some of the new-found gold would square all that, for the - present he must lie low. But he would guide Grady on the way, and the - latter would get into Rawlins first and file the location papers without - anyone at Encampment knowing that he had made the trip. - </p> - <p> - “That’s the dope,” cried Bud Bledsoe, as he jumped to - his feet and began stuffing his pockets to their fullest capacity with the - big and little slugs of gold. Grady followed his example. Then both men - took up their guns, Bledsoe also the light but strong hair lariat which - was his constant companion whether he was on horse or foot, and began - making their way up the canyon, following the well-trodden path through - the snow along which Buell Hampton and Roderick had retraced their - footsteps the evening before. - </p> - <p> - It was a couple of hours later when the Major, Grant Jones, and Roderick - emerged from the grotto. - </p> - <p> - “Good heavens!” exclaimed the Major. “Look there!” - And with extended arm he pointed to the ascending smoke of the camp fire - higher up the valley. - </p> - <p> - With the caution of deerstalkers they ascended by the stream. They found - that the camp fire was abandoned. The half-gnawed bones, the empty whiskey - flask, the remnant heap of nuggets, the hollows on the sand where the two - men had slept—all helped to tell the tale. The names on the - substituted location papers completed the story—W. B. Grady’s - name and those of some dummies to hold the ground, illegally but to hold - it all the same. Bud Bledsoe, the outlaw, had not ventured to affix his - own name, but the big whiskey bottle left little doubt as to who had been - Grady’s companion in the canyon overnight. - </p> - <p> - The miscreants had departed—the tracks of two men were clearly shown - at a little distance from those left by Roderick and the Major. They had - ascended the gorge. - </p> - <p> - “We have them trapped like coyotes,” declared the Major, - emphatically. - </p> - <p> - “I’m not so sure about that,” remarked Grant Jones. - “If there is one man in this region who knows the mountain trails - and mountain craft it is Bud Bledsoe. He’ll get out of a box canyon - where you or I would either break our necks to a certainty or remain like - helpless frogs at the bottom of a well. Then I’ve got another idea—a - fancy, perhaps, but I—don’t—just—know.” - </p> - <p> - He spoke slowly, an interval between each word, conning the chances while - he prolonged his sentence. - </p> - <p> - “What’s your idea?” asked Roderick. But the Major waited - in silence. - </p> - <p> - At last Grant’s face lighted up. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, by jingo,” he cried, “that may be their plan. If - they can get over the range on to the Ferris-Haggerty road they may make - Rawlins by the western route. That’s why they may have gone up the - canyon instead of returning by the cave. For they came in by the cave; it - is you they followed yesterday, Major, into the valley. The tracks show - that.” - </p> - <p> - “I have already satisfied myself on that point,” replied Buell - Hampton. “I have no doubt, since we balked Bledsoe in his previous - attempt, that he has been on my tracks ever since, determined to find out - where I got the rich ore. But it surprises me that a man in Grady’s - position should have descended to be the associate of such a notorious - highwayman.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, moral turpitude makes strange bedfellows,” said Grant, - pointing to the depressions where the two claim-jumpers had slept “But - there is no use in indulging in conjectures at the present time. I’ve - a proposal to make.” - </p> - <p> - “Let us hear it,” said the Major. - </p> - <p> - “Luckily I brought my skis with me, strapped to one of the burros. - Didn’t know when they might come handy amid all this snow. Well, I’ll - go back to the hut, and I’ll cut across the range, and will - intercept these damned robbers, if that’s their game, to a - certainty.” - </p> - <p> - “Rather risky,” remarked Buell Hampton. “Feels like more - snow.” And he sniffed the ambient air. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’ll be all right. And you’ve got to take risks - too. I’ll give Roderick my rifle, Major, and you take your own. You - can follow the trail of these men, and if they have got out of the canyon, - then you can get out the same way too. If so, we’ll all meet on the - range above. Roderick, you know where the Dillon Trail crosses the - Ferris-Haggerty Road?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick nodded assent. - </p> - <p> - “Well, we can’t miss each other if we all make for that point. - And if you don’t arrive by noon, I’ll go right on to Rawlins - by the western road, and lodge our location papers. I’ll know you - have Bledsoe and Grady trapped and are holding the ground.” - </p> - <p> - “Sounds feasible,” said Roderick. “But first of all we’ve - got to tear down these fraudulent location notices and put our own up - again.” He pointed to one of the corner stakes. “Just look—these - claim-jumpers came provided with regular printed forms.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, go ahead with that right now,” said Grant. “No - doubt the papers have been changed too down on the Major’s ground. - When you’re through with that job, follow the trail up the canyon. - Now I’m off for my skis, and then for the road over the hills. - Good-by. Take care of yourselves. Good-by.” - </p> - <p> - And down the valley they heard his voice singing the song of the mountain - trail: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “As I was coming down the road, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - Tired team and a heavy load, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - I cracked my whip and the leader sprung - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - Then his figure disappeared round a bend, and all again was still. - </p> - <p> - But Bledsoe and Grady had taken their time in ascending the canyon. But at - last they reached the impasse that had brought Buell Hampton and Roderick - to a halt the previous evening and caused them to retrace their steps as - the tracks revealed. Just as they were discussing whether it might not be - necessary for them also to turn back, a deer dashed wildly past them on - the narrow bench where they stood—so close that they might have - almost touched it with an outstretched hand. - </p> - <p> - Grady jumped back, frightened by the sudden bound of the swiftly speeding - animal. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know what that means?” asked Bledsoe quietly. - </p> - <p> - “We started the deer, I suppose,” stammered Grady. - </p> - <p> - “No. But someone else did—lower down the gorge. We are being - trailed, boss. We’ve got to get out of this hole in double-quick - time or chance being shot down from behind a rock.” - </p> - <p> - “This wall is impossible,” exclaimed Grady, his frightened - face gazing up the cliff. - </p> - <p> - Bledsoe was surveying the situation. - </p> - <p> - “Wait a minute,” he said at last. Then he swung his lariat, - the noose of which, going straight to its mark, caught a projecting tree - stump full fifty feet above. - </p> - <p> - “If you can make that,” he added, as he pulled the rope tight, - “there’s a ledge running right around and up—see?” - He pointed with his finger, tracing a line along the rocky wall. “Now - up you go. I’ll hold the rope. It’s dead easy.” - </p> - <p> - Grady dropped his rifle, and with both hands began to climb. Weighted with - the gold in his pockets, he made the ascent slowly and laboriously. But at - last he gained the ledge, and scrambling now on hands and knees as he - moved further upward and onward he speedily disappeared over the rim of - the cliff. - </p> - <p> - On Bledsoe’s lips was a smile of cold contempt. - </p> - <p> - “Hell!” he muttered. “I wanted him to pull up the junk - first. However, I’ll manage, I guess.” - </p> - <p> - He proceeded to tie to the riata his own and Grady’s rifle. Then he - swung himself aloft. - </p> - <p> - But he was not half way up when a rifle bullet flattened itself on the - rock not a foot from his head. - </p> - <p> - “Hands up!” came a voice from below. - </p> - <p> - “By God, ain’t they up now?” muttered the outlaw grimly, - as he jerked himself to a higher foothold. A few more springs and he was - standing on the ledge. Then, when a second bullet knocked off his hat, he - ducked and scurried along the narrow footway almost as quickly as Grady - had done, and was gone from the view of the two riflemen lower down the - canyon. - </p> - <p> - “Come on,” exclaimed Roderick. “They don’t seem to - have any guns. We’ll get them yet.” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton followed to the foot of the cliff. The rifles tied to the - lariat showed that the fugitives were in truth disarmed, so far at least - as long-distance weapons were concerned. The Major carefully hid the - rifles in a clump of brushwood. - </p> - <p> - They were now prepared to follow, but caution had to be used, for Bud - Bledsoe no doubt had a brace of revolvers at his belt. Roderick climbed up - the rope first, while Buell Hampton, with his Springfield raised, kept - watch for the slightest sign of an enemy above. But the fugitives had not - lingered. Roderick, from the edge of the cliff, called on the Major to - make the ascent, and a few minutes later they stood side by side. - </p> - <p> - High up on the snow-clad face of the mountain were the fleeing figures of - Grady and Bledsoe. Yes, they were making in the direction of the - Ferris-Haggerty Road. Grant would certainly intercept them, while Roderick - and the Major stalked the quarry from the rear. - </p> - <p> - “I intend to get that thousand-dollar reward for Bud Bledsoe’s - hide,” laughed Roderick, slipping a cartridge into the chamber of - his rifle. - </p> - <p> - “We must not shoot to kill,” replied the Major. “It will - be sufficient that they surrender. We have them at our mercy. Come along.” - </p> - <p> - He advanced a few paces, then paused. - </p> - <p> - “But there,” he murmured, “I do not like this snow.” - He held out his hand, and a first soft feathery flake settled on his palm. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, well be all right,” cried Roderick. “Besides we’ve - got to help Grant.” - </p> - <p> - They trudged along, walking zig-zag up the hill to lessen the incline, but - always keeping close to the trail of the men they were pursuing. On the - plateau above the snow lay deeper, and at places they were knee-deep in - the drift, their feet breaking through the thin encrusting surface which - frost had hardened. - </p> - <p> - “It is a pity we have not web snowshoes or skis,” remarked - Buell Hampton when they had paused to draw breath. “We could make so - much better time.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, the other fellows are no better equipped than ourselves,” - replied Roderick, philosophically. “But, by jingo, it’s - snowing some now.” - </p> - <p> - Yes, the feathery flakes were all around them, not blindingly thick as - yet, but certain precursors of the coming storm. The trail was still quite - clear although the fugitives were no longer in sight. - </p> - <p> - An hour passed, two hours, three hours—and hunters and hunted still - plodded on. Roderick felt no misgivings, for he could tell from the lie of - the hills that they were making steadily for the junction of the - Ferris-Haggerty Road with the track over the range to Dillon, where Grant - Jones would now be waiting. But at last the snow began to fall more - thickly, and the encircling mountains came to be no longer visible. Even - the guiding footprints were becoming filled up and difficult to follow. - </p> - <p> - All at once Buell Hampton stopped. - </p> - <p> - “These men have lost their way,” he exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “They are going round in a circle. Look here—they have crossed - their own track.” - </p> - <p> - The evidence was unmistakable. - </p> - <p> - “Then what are we to do?” asked Roderick. “I suppose we - hardly know where we are ourselves now,” he added, looking uneasily - around. - </p> - <p> - “I have my pocket compass—luckily I never travel without it in - the mountains. But I think it is prudent that we should lose no further - time in making for Encampment.” - </p> - <p> - “And Grant Jones?” - </p> - <p> - “He can look after himself. He is on skis, and knows every foot of - the Dillon trail.” - </p> - <p> - “Then Grady and Bledsoe?” - </p> - <p> - “Their fate is in other hands. If we follow them any longer we will - undoubtedly be caught in the storm ourselves.” He held a hand aloft. - “See, the wind is rising. There will be heavy drifting before long.” - Roderick now felt the swirl of driven snow on his cheeks. Yes, the wind - had risen. - </p> - <p> - “But we’ll endeavor to save them,” continued Buell - Hampton. “Perhaps, as they are circling round, they are not far away - from this spot even now. We will try at all events.” - </p> - <p> - And raising both hands to form a voice trumpet, he uttered a loud: “Hallo - I hallo!” - </p> - <p> - But no answer came. Again he shouted, again and yet again, turning round - in all directions. Everything remained silent and still. - </p> - <p> - The Major now glanced at his compass, and took his bearings. - </p> - <p> - “Come,” was all he said, as he led the way through the loose - crisp snow that crunched and cheeped beneath their feet. - </p> - <p> - Half an hour later the storm by some strange vagary abated. The wind was - blowing stronger, but it seemed to be driving the snow-laden clouds up - into the higher mountain elevations. All of a sudden a penetrating shaft - of sunshine flashed through the dancing snow-flakes, then the flakes - themselves ceased to fall, and the sun was shining on the virgin mantle of - white that enveloped range and peaks as far as the eye could see. - </p> - <p> - Roderick glanced down the mountain side. Almost beneath his feet was - Conchshell Ranch—he could see the home on the little knoll amid the - clustering pine trees. For the moment he was thinking of Gail. But the - hand of Buell Hampton had clutched his shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Look!” - </p> - <p> - And Roderick looked—away in the direction of Cow Creek Canyon, a - mighty gash in the flank of the mountains nearly a thousand feet deep and - more than half a mile across. Standing out, clear and distinct in the - bright sunshine, were the tall twin towers on either side of the gorge, - supporting the great steel cable which bridged the chasm and carried the - long string of iron buckets bringing ore from the Ferris-Haggerty mine, - fourteen miles distant, down into the smelter at Encampment. Roderick at - his first glance saw that the aerial cars, despite the recent snow-storm, - were still crawling across the deep canyon, for all the world like huge - spiders on a strand of gossamer. - </p> - <p> - But as his eyes swept the landscape he beheld outlined on the white - expanse of snow the figures of three men. One, standing fully a hundred - yards away from the other two and lower down the hill, was the - gorilla-like form of Bud Bledsoe. The others were Grady and Grant Jones on - his skis. - </p> - <p> - And as Roderick looked, before he could even utter a cry, these two - figures clutched at each other. For a moment they swayed to and fro, then - Grant seemed to fling his man away from him. - </p> - <p> - Almost at the same instant, just as a picture might be blotted from a - screen by cutting off the light, both figures had vanished! Then, like - steam shot from a geyser, there ascended high into mid-air a great cloud - of powdered snow, and to the watchers’ ears came a deep boom - resembling the prolonged and muffled roar of thunder or big artillery. - </p> - <p> - “Good God! A snow slide!” gasped Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - Roderick was stricken dumb. He stood rigid, frozen with horror. He needed - no one to tell him that Grant Jones had gone over the rim of the canyon, - down a thousand feet, smothered under a million tons of snow. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>ARLY the following - morning several hundred searchers were at the scene of the snow slide in - Cow Creek Canyon. Every precaution was taken not to have anyone walk along - near the rim of the gorge a thousand feet above. There were still hundreds - of thousands of tons of snow on the narrow plateau at the top, which any - disturbance, even no greater than a stone thrown by the hands of a child, - might start moving. If another slide should occur it would overwhelm and - crush the intrepid searchers below. - </p> - <p> - A systematic probing of the snow with long iron rods had been begun at - once and kept up perseveringly until three o’clock in the afternoon. - Then one of the searchers touched clothing or something with his rod. The - snow was quickly shoveled aside, and at a depth of about seven feet the - body of Grant Jones was found lying flat upon his back with his right arm - stretched out above his head, the left doubled under him. The face was - quite natural—it wore a peaceful smile. None of his clothing had - been disturbed or tom—even his cap and his skis were in place. The - poor fellow had simply been crushed to death or smothered by the many tons - of snow. - </p> - <p> - Immediately a makeshift sled was constructed by strapping two skis - together sideways. On this the body was taken up the steep hills by a - cautiously selected route to Battle, three and a half miles away, and - thence on to Encampment, twelve miles farther, the improvised sled being - drawn all the way by strong and willing men of the hills. Accompanying the - remains were Roderick Warfield, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, and other - faithful friends, while following came a great cortege of miners, mill - hands, and mountaineers. - </p> - <p> - It was midnight before the mournful procession reached town. And awaiting - it even at that late hour was a dense crowd, standing with bared heads and - tear-stained faces. For in all the hill country the name of Grant Jones - was a household word. His buoyant good-nature was recognized by everyone, - and probably he did not have an enemy in all southern Wyoming where his - brief manhood life had been spent. Fully a thousand people, of both sexes, - of all classes and all ages, formed the escort of the little funeral sled - on its last stage to the undertaker’s establishment. Here the body - was received by Major Buell Hampton and the Reverend Stephen Grannon. It - had been the Major’s duty that day to seek out the clergyman and - bring him down in a sledge from the hills to administer the last sad rites - for their dear dead friend. - </p> - <p> - Next day the search was resumed for Grady’s remains. Bud Bledsoe it - was known had escaped—the Major had seen him running downhill after - the disaster and others had tracked his footprints, to lose them in a - clump of timber. So there was only one more body to be recovered. The task - of probing with the long iron rods went on for several hours. The - searchers knew the necessity of working both carefully and with speed, for - another snow slide was imminent. And at last it came, toward the noon hour. - But warning had been passed along, so that no lives were sacrificed, the - only result being to pile a veritable mountain of snow over the spot where - Grady’s body presumably lay. The search was abandoned, without - regret on anyone’s part; in the spring the avalanche would give up - its dead; until then the mortal remains of the unpopular and disgraced - capitalist could well remain in their temporary sepulchre of snow, “unwept, - unhonored, and unsung.” - </p> - <p> - But for Grant Jones there was public mourning, deep, sincere, and solemn. - Toward evening the whole town of Encampment seemed to be wending their way - to the little church where the Reverend Stephen Gran-non was to preach the - funeral sermon. And these are the words which the venerable Flockmaster - spoke to the hushed and sorrowing congregation. - </p> - <p> - “My friends, our hearts today commune with the battalions who have - ‘crossed over.’ Love broods above the sleeping dust in a - service of tears. The past is a dream—the future a mystery. - Sometimes the tides of dissolution creep upon us silently. Again they are - as stormy seas and rough breakers that sweep all with reckless cruelty - into oblivion. But whether the parting be one way or the other, in - peacefulness or in the savagery of a storm, to loving hearts it is ever a - tragedy. - </p> - <p> - “The grief which is ours today is as old as the ages. It brings us - into fellowship with the centuries. We know now why Eve wept for Abel and - David lamented Absalom. Death is the most ancient sculptor in the world. - Ever since men lived and died, death has made each grave a gallery and - filled it with a silent statue. Death hides faults and magnifies virtues. - Death conceals the failings of those who have passed while lovingly and - enduringly chiselling their noble traits of character. - </p> - <p> - “Centuries of philosophy have not succeeded in reconciling men to - the sorrows of dissolution. Death makes us all equal with a mutual sorrow. - We cannot forget our friend who rests here in his final sleep. In happy - symbolism his shroud was whitest snow, and love thrills our hearts with - sympathetic memory. Such love is the kindest service of the soul. - </p> - <p> - “Affection for those who have departed has built the mausoleums of - the world and makes every monument an altar of grief. Whether the hope of - immortality is a revelation or an intuition is not under consideration - today. Each man believeth for himself. We know that primitive man away - back in Egypt buried his dead on the banks of the Nile and thought of - immortality. We know that love throughout the ages has touched the heart - with its wings, and hope from the beginning to the end whispers to us that - ‘if a man die he shall live again.’ I believe that the - doctrine of evolution gives a potent hope of immortality. Evolution takes - the mud of the lake and makes a water lily—the hollow reed in the - hand of the savage grows into a modern flute—the rude marks of - primitive man in the stone age become poems and anthems in our own age. If - mist can become stars—if dust can become worlds—if the - immortality of biology is a truism—if love can come from sensations, - if the angel of the brain can spring into being from simple cells, why - then cannot the soul endure forever although undergoing transitions in the - course of its divine development? - </p> - <p> - “I believe in the immortality of the soul. I believe in the religion - of humanity. Yes, on the far away rim of eternity, Faith seeks a beckoning - hand and the human heart pulses anew with inspiration and unfaltering - belief in the immortality of the soul. Let us believe there are songs sung - and harps touched and kisses given and greetings exchanged in that other - world. It is better that all other words should turn to ashes upon the - lips of man rather than the word immortality. Our hearts once filled with - this belief—this great truth—then every tear becomes a jewel, - the darkest night flees before the breaking dawn and every hope turns into - reality. - </p> - <p> - “Before us, my friends, lies the dust of the dead—Grant Jones. - Away from home—away from father and mother, brother and sister—far - up in these hills where the shoulders of the mountains are clothed with - treacherous banks of sliding snow—he was here seeking to carve out a - destiny for himself, in the morning of early manhood. The Kismet of his - life, clothed in mystery, caused him to lay down his tools and leave to - others his but partially accomplished mission. He was journeying upward - toward life’s mountain-crest—already the clouds were below him - and the stars about him. For do we not know from his gifted writings that - this man held communion with the gods? His heart beat full of loftiest - hope. And then—even before high twelve—he fell asleep. He is - gone; but a myriad of memories of his achievements gather thick about us. - We see him as he was, and this virion will abide with us throughout the - years. - </p> - <p> - “He was a student and a scholar. He read books that had souls in - them—he read books that converse with the hearts of men and speak to - them of an exalted life—a life that unfolds an ethical and a higher - duty incumbent upon the children of men. He knew much about the literature - of his day—was acquainted with the great authors through their - writings. Keats was his favorite poet, Victor Hugo his favorite prose - author and ‘Les Misérables’ his favorite book. Music had a - thrilling charm for him. To his heart it was the language of the eternal. - He heard songs in the rocks of towering cliffs, in primeval forests, in - deep gorges, in night winds, in browned grasses and in tempestuous storms - and in the pebbled mountain brooks. - </p> - <p> - “We need have no fear for his future, my friends—with him all - is well. A heroic soul, a matchless man, cannot be lost. His heart was a - fountain of love. Virtue was his motto—hope his star—love his - guide. Farewell, Grant, farewell. When with the silent boatman we too shall - cross the river of death and steal away into the infinite, we believe that - you will be standing there in the rosy dawn of eternity to welcome us, to - renew the sweet ties of love and friendship that here on earth have bound - our hearts to yours.” - </p> - <p> - Thus spoke the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the Flockmaster of the Hills. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>OROTHY mourned for - Grant Jones—for days she wept and would not be consoled. Roderick - had not seen her since the disaster; when he had called at the ranch - Barbara had brought a message from her room that she dared not trust - herself yet to speak to anyone, least of all to the one whom she knew to - have been Grant’s closest and dearest friend. - </p> - <p> - Roderick had now taken apartments in the Bonhomme Hotel—it would - have been too heartrending an experience to return to the shack where - everything was associated with the memory of his lost comrade. It had been - his painful task to pack the books, the little ornaments, the trophies of - the chase, the other odds and ends of sacred relics, and send them back - East to the old folks at home. He had known it to have been Grant’s - own wish that, when death should come, his body should rest among the - hills of Wyoming. So when a simple headstone had been placed on the grave - in God’s acre at Encampment, the last sad duty had been performed. - Grief was now deadened. The sweet pleasures of fond reminiscence remained, - the richest legacy that man can leave behind him. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton and Roderick never met without speaking of Grant, without - recalling some pleasant episode in their association, some brilliant or - thoughtful contribution he had made to their past conversations. With the - aid of fragments of torn paper that had been clutched in the dead man’s - left hand, the hand that had been doubled under him when the body was - found, they had pieced together the story of that fateful encounter with - Grady. The latter, bent on discovering and jumping Buell Hampton’s - secret mine, had carried into the mountains the proper declaration papers - in printed forms, with only the blanks to be filled in—name, date, - exact location, etc. Grant must have become aware that these papers were - all ready signed in Grady’s pocket—perhaps in defiance the - claim-jumper had flaunted them in his face. For the struggle had been for - the possession of these documents, the torn quarters of which were still - in Grant’s hand when the fatal dislodgement of snow had taken place. - The full infamy of Grady’s long contrived plot was revealed. - Righteously indeed had he gone to his doom. - </p> - <p> - A week had passed when Roderick found a letter on the breakfast table at - his hotel. It was from Barbara Shields. - </p> - <blockquote> - <p> - “My dear Mr. Warfield:— - </p> - <p> - “I write to tell you that we are going to California—to - spend the winter in Los Angeles. We are all sorrow-stricken over the - great calamity up in the hills, and Dorothy—the poor dear girl is - simply stunned. I have known for a long while that she was very fond of - Grant, but I had no idea of the depths of her feelings. - </p> - <p> - “Papa says Mama and I must start at once and endeavor to cheer up - Dorothy and help her forget as much as possible the sadness of this - terrible affair. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Bragdon called last night, and is to be our escort to the - coast. We shall probably return about the first of May. Please accept - this as an affectionate good-by for the time being from us all. - </p> - <p> - “With cordial good wishes, - </p> - <p> - “Sincerely your friend, - </p> - <p> - “Barbara.” - </p> - </blockquote> - <p> - Meanwhile snow had been descending off and on day after day, until now the - whole of the mountain country was effectively sealed. Evidently a rigorous - winter had set in, and it would be many months before Hidden Valley would - be again accessible. Roderick was not sorry—the very mention of gold - and mining had become distasteful to his ears. Even when with the Major, - they, never now spoke about the secret canyon and its hoarded treasures—in - subtle sympathy with each other’s feelings the subject was tabooed - for the present Bud Bledsoe had disappeared from the district, no doubt - temporarily enriched by the nuggets with which he had filled his pockets. - In the spring most likely he would return and rally his gang of mountain - outlaws. But until then there need be no worry about the snow-enshrouded - claims, the location papers for which had been now duly registered at the - county seat in the names of their proper owners. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton had his books and his work for the poor wherewith to occupy - his mind. Roderick found his consolation at the smelter. Early and late - now he worked there, learning the practical operations from Boney Earnest, - mastering the business details with the aid of a trustworthy old clerk - whose services had been retained as secretary. Boney, having been made the - choice of his brother foremen in accordance with the new plan of - operations, was duly confirmed in his position of general manager, while - Roderick, formally elected vice-president by the board, held the salaried - and responsible post of managing-director. - </p> - <p> - Major Hampton withdrew himself more and more into the seclusion of his - library; he rarely came to the smelter plant; he left everything in - Roderick’s hands once he had become satisfied of the young man’s - aptitude for the work; he was content to read the managing director’s - weekly report showing steady progress all along the line—increased - output, decreased operating costs, large reductions in waste and - breakages, in a word the all-round benefits resulting from friendly - cooperation between capital and labor, no longer treating each other as - enemies, but pulling together in happy conjunction and for mutual - advantage. - </p> - <p> - Another circumstance contributing to the general harmony of the community - was the departure of W. Henry Carlisle, the deposed attorney of the - smelter company. One of Senator Greed’s hirelings, Carlisle had been - rewarded by that master of political jobbery with a judgeship in Alaska. - Thus was the whole country made to pay the price of shameful underhand - services that had tainted the very atmosphere and might well have caused - the man in the moon to hold his nose when crossing the state of Wyoming. - </p> - <p> - However, Carlisle’s going put an end to much bitterness and - squabbling in Encampment, and now month succeeded month in peaceful - routine. As both smelter and mine were now working Sundays as well as week - days, Roderick could rarely take a day off—or at least he would not - allow himself a day off. - </p> - <p> - However, along with Major Buell Hampton he was the guest of Mr. Shields - for Christmas Day dinner, and learned the latest news of the exiles in - California; that mother and daughters were well, Dorothy something like - her old happy self if chastened with a sorrow that would always leave its - memory, and all thoroughly enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of a winter of - warmth and perpetual sunshine. There was another item in Mr. Shields’ - budget. Whitley Adams had spent a month in the capital of the southwest, - had brought along his big touring car, and had given the girls no end of a - good time. - </p> - <p> - “What took him to Los Angeles?’ asked Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, important banking business, Barbara says,” replied Mr. - Shields quite innocently. - </p> - <p> - Roderick smiled. “Would Dorothy be consoled,” he asked - himself. The enterprising youth certainly deserved the prize; Roderick - recalled the mirthful warning sent to dear old Grant in the latter’s - dilatory courting days about the tempting peach and the risk of a - plundering hand. Indeed Whitley and Grant had been wonderfully akin in - their boyish good-nature and irrepressible enthusiasm. With Grant gone, it - seemed quite natural that Whitley and Dorothy should be drawn together. - Roderick could wish no greater happiness for Dorothy, no better luck for - his old college chum. Such was the train of his musing the while Buell - Hampton and their host were discussing the wonderful growth and unbounded - future of Los Angeles, the beautiful city of garden homes and cultured - family life. - </p> - <p> - For New Year’s Day Roderick was invited to the Holdens’ place, - and spent a delightful afternoon and evening. Gail sang and played, and - the General seemed to be mightily interested in all the wonderful results - being achieved at the smelter under the new régime. Gail listened somewhat - distrait, but when the conversation about ores and fluxes and cupola - furnaces and all that sort of thing seemed likely to be indefinitely - prolonged she stole back to her piano and began singing to herself, soft - and low. - </p> - <p> - And presently, while the General meandered on in a disquisition about - refractory ores, Roderick was no longer paying attention. He was listening - to the warbling of a thrush in the forest, and his straining ears caught - the words of the song—“Just a-Wearyin’ for You.” A - thrill ran through his nerves. He excused himself to the General, and - crossed over to the piano. Gail instantly changed her song; by a skillful - transition she was humming now, “Ye Banks and Braes o’ Bonnie - Dhon.” But their eyes met, and she blushed deeply. - </p> - <p> - During the following weeks Roderick thought much and often about the - beautiful Gail Holden, and occasionally now he would relax from business - duties to enjoy a gallop with her on a sunny afternoon over the foothill - ranges. They talked on many themes, and, although words of love were as - yet unspoken, there came to them the quiet sense of happiness in - companionship, of interest in each other’s thoughts and - undertakings, of mutual understanding that they were already closer and - dearer to each other than friendship alone could make them. - </p> - <p> - Spring was now rapidly approaching. The meadowlarks were singing, and the - grass beginning to grow green in the valleys and foothills, the wild - flowers to paint the slopes and dells in vivid colors. General Holden had - several days before gone to San Francisco, to visit his brother there in - regard to some family business. Gail had been unable to accompany her - father; she had declared that the little ranch at this season required all - her attention. To comfort her in her loneliness Roderick had promised to - go riding with her for an hour or two every afternoon. This pleasant duty - had been properly fulfilled for several days, and one afternoon, with - Badger ready saddled in front of his office, the young vice-president of - the smelter company was just clearing up a few items of business at his - desk before mounting and taking the road for the Conchshell Ranch. - </p> - <p> - A telegram was laid at his hand. He opened it casually, talking the while - with Boney Earnest. But when he saw the name on the slip of paper, he - started erect. The message was from Gail, and had come from Rawlins: - “My father is in hospital, having met with a street accident in San - Francisco. Have just had time to catch the afternoon train at Rawlins. My - address will be the Palace Hotel. Will telegraph news about father on - arrival.” - </p> - <p> - “Good God!” exclaimed Roderick. “She has taken that - journey alone. And no one to help her in her trouble and sorrow.” - </p> - <p> - There was no alternative—he could but wait with all the patience he - could command for the next day’s overland. For he had instantly - resolved to follow Gail. Like a flash had come the revelation how deeply - he loved the girl; it had only needed the presence of tribulation to cause - the long-smouldering spark of the fire divine in his heart to leap into - flame—to make him realize that, come weal, come woe, his place now - was by her side. - </p> - <p> - That afternoon he made all his preparations for departure. The evening he - spent with Buell Hampton, and frankly told his friend of his great love - for Gail. The Major listened sympathetically. - </p> - <p> - “All the world loves a lover,” he said, a kindly glow upon his - face. “Humanity demands, conscience approves, and good people - everywhere applaud the genial and glowing warmth of honest love of man for - maid. And I commend the choice of your heart, Roderick, for surely nowhere - can be found a finer woman than Gail Holden. Go in and win, and may good - luck follow you. For friendship’s sake, too, I think it highly - proper you should proceed at once to San Francisco and look after General - Holden. I hope he is not dangerously hurt.” - </p> - <p> - “I have no other information except this telegram,” replied - Roderick. “But I’ll surely wire you from San Francisco.” - </p> - <p> - Jim Rankin drove the stage next morning. Roderick took his accustomed - place on the box seat, and listened to Jim’s accustomed flow of - language on all the local topics of interest. But during the long drive of - fifty miles there was only one little part of the one-sided conversation - that Roderick ever remembered. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, siree,” Jim said, “all the folks is readin’ - books these days. I myself have took the craze—I’ve got a book - about the horse out of our new libr’y an’ I’ll be - dog-busted if I ever knew the critter had so many bones. Tom Sun is readin’ - about wool growin’ in Australia, and is already figgerin’ on - gettin’ over Tasmanian merino blood for his flocks. And I’m - danged if old Wren the saloon-keeper ain’t got stuck with a volume - on temperance. ‘Ten Bar-Rooms in One Night’. no, by gunnies, - that’s not it—’Ten Nights in a Bar-Room’—now - I’ve got it right Guess it will do him a power o’ good too. - Then all the young fellers have started goin’ to night classes. I - tell you the Reverend Grannon with his schools an’ his libr’ies - is just workin’ wonders. An’ who do you think is his right - hand man, or boy, or devil—call him which you like?” - </p> - <p> - “Who?” asked Roderick vaguely. - </p> - <p> - “Scotty Meisch, that little tad of a cow-puncher you and poor old - Grant Jones took up and made a printer’s devil of. Well, the parson - got his hooks in him and tells me he’s turned out to be a - first-class organizer—that’s his word. It’s Scotty who - goes around, starts each new lib’iy, and sets the machin’ry - goin’ smooth an’ proper. It’s a case of a round peg in a - round hole, although who the hell would have thought it?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick was pleased to hear this good news of Scotty Meisch, but, - returning to his thoughts about Gail, failed to follow Jim as the latter - switched off into another line of “unbosomings.” - </p> - <p> - He was glad to be alone at last and in the drawing room of the Pullman car - which he had reserved by telegraph. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER a tedious and - delayed trip of three days and nights Roderick’s train steamed onto - the mole at Oakland. During the last night he had refused to have the - berth in his drawing room made down, and had lounged and dozed in his - seat, occasionally peering out of the car window. The hour was late—almost - three o’clock in the morning. The train should have arrived at seven - o’clock the evening before. - </p> - <p> - There was the usual scramble of disembarking, red-capped porters pressing - forward to carry hand baggage from the train to the ferryboat. - </p> - <p> - “Last boat to San Francisco will leave in five minutes,” was - shouted from somewhere, and Roderick found himself with his valise in hand - being pushed along with the throng of passengers who had just alighted - from the train. Once on the ferryboat, he climbed to the upper deck and - went well forward for the view. The waters of the bay were illumed with a - half-crescent moon. Far across, six miles away, was San Francisco with its - innumerable lights along the waterfront and on the slopes of her hills. To - the right were Alcatras Island and the lighthouse. - </p> - <p> - Then the sharp ping-ping of bells sounded and the great wheels of the boat - began to turn. Roderick was filled with the excitement of an impatient - lover. “Gail, Gail, Gail,” his throbbing heart kept thrumming. - Would he be able to find her? San Francisco was a strange city to Gail as - well as to himself. She had been on the train ahead of him, and might by - this time have left the Palace Hotel, the address her telegram had given. - But he had learned from one of the porters that Gail’s train had - been greatly delayed and would not have arrived before eleven o’clock - the previous night. He reasoned that she would perforce have gone to the - hotel at such a late hour, and would wait until morning to hunt up the - hospital where her father was being cared for. - </p> - <p> - The boat had hardly touched the slip and the apron been lowered than he - bounded forward, hastened through the ferryhouse and came out into the - open where he was greeted by the tumultuous calls of a hundred solicitous - cab-drivers. Roderick did not stand on the order of things, but climbing - into the first vehicle that offered directed to be taken to the Palace - Hotel. - </p> - <p> - Arriving at the hotel Roderick paid his fare while the door porter took - possession of his grips. Glancing at a huge clock just over the cashier’s - desk, he noticed the hour was three-thirty a. m. Taking the pen handed to - him by the rooming clerk, he signed his name on the register, and then let - his eyes glance backward over the names of recent arrivals. Ah, there was - the signature of Gail Holden. Fortune was favoring him and he breathed a - silent prayer of thankfulness that he had overtaken her. - </p> - <p> - Yes, he would serve her. He would help her. She should see and she should - know without his telling her, that nothing else mattered if he could only - be with her, near her and permitted to relieve her of all troubles and - difficulties. - </p> - <p> - “Show the gentleman to his room,” said the night clerk and - bowed to Roderick with a cordial good night. - </p> - <p> - As Roderick turned and followed the boy to the elevator, he realized that - he was not sleepy—indeed that he was nervously alert and wide awake. - After the boy had brought a pitcher of ice-water to the room, received his - tip and departed, Roderick sat down to think it all over. But what was the - use? “I cannot see her until perhaps eight o’clock in the - morning. However, I will be on the outlook and in waiting when she is - ready for breakfast. And then—” his heart was beating fast - “I certainly am terribly upset,” he acknowledged to himself. - </p> - <p> - Taking up his hat, he went out, locked the door, rang for the elevator and - a minute later was out on the street. He was still wearing his costume of - the mountains—coat, shirt, trousers, and puttees, all of khaki, with - a broad-brimmed sombrero to match. A little way up Market Street he - noticed a florist’s establishment. Great bouquets of California - roses were in the windows, chrysanthemums and jars of violets. - </p> - <p> - He walked on, deciding to provide himself later on with a floral offering - wherewith to decorate the breakfast table. He had often heard San - Francisco described as a city that turned night into day, and the truth of - the remark impressed him. Jolly crowds were going along the streets - singing in roistering fashion—everyone seemed to be good-natured—the - cafés were open, the saloon doors swung both ways and were evidently ready - for all-comers. When he came to Tate’s restaurant, he went down the - broad marble steps and found—notwithstanding the lateness or rather - earliness of the hour—several hundred people still around the supper - tables. The scene had the appearance of a merry banquet where everyone was - talking at the same time. An air of joviality pervaded the place. The - great fountain was throwing up glittering columns of water through colored - lights as varied as the tints of a rainbow. The splash of the waters, the - cool spray, the wealth of ferns and flowers surrounding this sunken garden - in the center of a great dining room—the soft strains of the - orchestra, all combined to fill Roderick with wonder that was almost awe. - He sank into a chair at a vacant little table near the fountain and - endeavored to comprehend it all He was fresh from the brown hills, from - the gray and purple sage and the desert cacti, from the very heart of - nature, so utterly different to this spectacle of a bacchanalian - civilization. - </p> - <p> - The wilderness waif soon discovered that he would be de trop unless he - responded to the urgent inquiries of the waiter as to what he would have - to drink. - </p> - <p> - “A bottle of White Rock to begin with,” ordered Roderick. - </p> - <p> - As he was sipping the cold and refreshing water it occurred to him that he - had not tasted food since breakfast the day before in the dining car of - the train. Yes, he would have something to eat and he motioned to the - waiter. - </p> - <p> - After giving his order he had to wait a long time, and the longer he - waited the hungrier he became. Presently a generous steak was placed - before him. Potatoes <i>au gratin,</i> olives, asparagus, and French peas - made up the side dishes, and a steaming pot of coffee completed a - sumptuous meal. - </p> - <p> - When he had paid his check he discovered it was almost five o’clock - in the morning, and as he mounted the marble stairway he laughingly told - himself he wouldn’t have much of an appetite at seven or eight o’clock - when he came to sit down at the breakfast table with Gail Holden. Gaining - the sidewalk he found that darkness was shading into dawn. - </p> - <p> - Instead of returning by way of Market Street, Roderick lit a cigar and - turning to the right walked up a cross street toward the St. Francis - Hotel. In front was a beautiful little park; shrubbery and flowers lined - the winding walks, while here and there large shade trees gave an added - touch of rural charm. - </p> - <p> - He seated himself on one of the iron benches, took out his watch and - counted up the number of minutes until, probably, he would see the object - of his heart’s desire. How slow the time was going. He heard the - laughter of a banqueting party over at the Poodle Dog, although at the - time he did not know the place by name. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he murmured, “San Francisco is certainly in a - class by itself. This is the land where there is no night.” - </p> - <p> - The contrast between the scenes in this gay city and the quiet hill life - away up among the crags, the deep canyons and snow-clad peaks of southern - Wyoming was indeed remarkable. - </p> - <p> - It was the morning of April eighteen, 1906, and the night had almost - ended. There was a suggestion of purple on the eastern horizon—the - forerunner of coming day. The crescent moon was hanging high above Mt. - Tamalpais. - </p> - <p> - The town clock tolled the hour of five and still Roderick waited. - Presently he was filled with a strange foreboding, a sense of oppression, - that he was unable to analyze. He wondered if it presaged refusal of the - great love surging in his heart for Gail Holden, the fair rider of the - ranges, the sweet singer of the hills. An indescribable agitation seized - him. - </p> - <p> - The minutes went slowly by. His impatience increased. He looked again at - his watch and it was only a quarter after five. The city was wrapped in - slumber. - </p> - <p> - Then suddenly and without warning Roderick was roughly thrown from his - seat and sent sprawling onto the grass among the shrubbery. He heard an - angry growling like the roar from some rudely awakened Goliath of - destruction deep down in earth’s inner chambers of mystery—a - roar of wrath and madness and resistless power. The ground was trembling, - reeling, upheaving, shaking and splitting open into yawning fissures, - while hideous noises were all around. Buildings about the park were being - rent asunder and were falling into shapeless heaps of ruin. - </p> - <p> - Struggling to his feet, his first impulse was to hasten to the hotel and - protect Gail. As he arose and started to run he was again thrown to earth. - The bushes whipped the turf as if swished to and fro by an unseat hand. - For a moment Roderick was stunned into inaction—stricken with the - paralysis of unspeakable fear. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS but a few - seconds until Roderick was again on his feet Hurriedly taking his - bearings, he started off through the little park in the direction of the - Palace Hotel. In the uncertain morning dawn the people from innumerable - bedrooms above the stores were pouring into the streets. They were - scantily attired, most of them simply in their night garments, and all - were dazed and stunned with a terrible fright Before Roderick had reached - Market Street the thoroughfare was almost blocked by this frantic and - half-clothed mass of humanity. His powerful athletic frame and his - football experience stood him in good stead, although here roughness had - to be exchanged for greatest gentleness. He was very persistent, however, - in his determination to reach the hotel in time if possible to be of - assistance to Gail. - </p> - <p> - Less than ten feet in front of where he was crowding his way through the - throng of people a portion of a cornice came tumbling down from far above. - A wailing cry went up from the unfortunates pinned beneath. Roderick - leaped quickly forward and with the strength of a Hercules began to heave - aside the great blocks of stone. Others recognized his leadership, - instantly obeyed his commands and lent their united strength in helping to - release three men who had been caught under debris. The cries of the - injured were piteous. Indifferent to the danger of falling bricks and - mortar Roderick caught up one poor fellow in his arms and carried him as - if he were a babe into a receding doorway. - </p> - <p> - “My legs, my legs,” the victim moaned. “They’re - broken—they’re broken.” - </p> - <p> - Quickly removing his coat Roderick placed it beneath the man’s head - for a pillow, and leaving others to guard, he hastened back to the scene - of the tragedy, only to find that the spark of life had now gone out from - the other two bodies pitifully maimed and crushed. - </p> - <p> - He pushed his way into the middle of the street amid the surging mob, and - again turned his steps toward the Palace Hotel. At last he found himself - near to the entrance of the great hostelry. But everyone was seeking to - escape and rushing to the street in riotous disorder. By dint of - indefatigable efforts he managed to get within the gateway and then to the - large trysting room across the hall from the hotel office. A group of - women were endeavoring to revive a poor sufferer who evidently had - fainted. Approaching, he saw blood coursing down the fair face of the - unfortunate. - </p> - <p> - “My God!” he exclaimed. “It is Gail.” - </p> - <p> - An instant later he had gently pushed the helpers aside and gathered the - girl in his strong arms. Moving backwards, forcing a passage step by step - with the determination of one who acts intuitively in a crisis, he managed - to gain the open. He hoped the air would restore Gail to consciousness. - </p> - <p> - Crossing to the other side of the street where the throng was less dense - he started toward a high hill that rose up far away. It was covered with - residences, and if he could once reach that vantage point with his charge - he felt sure it would be an asylum of safety. The distance was - considerable and presently the way became steep. But he was unconscious of - any weight in the burden he carried. His only thought was to get Gail away - from the burning, falling buildings—away from the central part of - the city which was now a fiery pit wrapped in sheets of devouring flame. - </p> - <p> - Finally attaining the eminence—it was Nob Hill although he did not - know the name—he found the porches and front lawns of the beautiful - houses filled with frightened people viewing the scene in awe and - amazement. Formalities were forgotten; solicitude and helpful kindness - reigned supreme among all the people of the stricken city. - </p> - <p> - He called to a little group huddled on the front porch of their home. - “Here is a lady,” Roderick explained, “who has been - injured and fainted. Will you please get water and help to revive her?” - </p> - <p> - In hurried eagerness to assist they quickly brought a cot to the porch and - upon this Roderick gently placed the still unconscious girl. Her face was - deathly white, and a great red gash was discovered across one side of her - head, from which the blood was trickling down the marble cheek. The wound - was bandaged by tender hands and the face laved with cooling water. After - a little Gail opened her eyes and asked piteously: “Where am I? - Where am I?” - </p> - <p> - “You are safe,” said Roderick as he knelt by her side. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, is it you, Mr. Warfield? How glad—how glad I am to see - you. Where am I?” - </p> - <p> - “In San Francisco. Don’t you remember?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, yes, I remember now,” she replied weakly and lifted one - hand to her aching head. “But papa?—where is my father?” - </p> - <p> - “I am going to look for him now. You are with kind people and they - will care for you. Rest quietly and be patient until I return.” - </p> - <p> - Her dark blue eyes looked helplessly up into his for a moment; then he - turned and was gone. - </p> - <p> - Roderick rushed down the hill, back to the scene of devastation where he - might be useful in helping to save human life, determined also in his - heart to find General Holden. But where was he? In some hospital, as Gail’s - telegram had told. - </p> - <p> - He was debating with himself whether he should return to seek some - directions from Gail. But just then the surging, swaying crowd pushed him - irresistibly back, then swept him away along Market Street. The Palace - Hotel was on fire. Policemen and firemen were thrusting the people away - from the known danger line. - </p> - <p> - Just then he heard a voice crying out in heart-rending anguish: “My - little girl’, my little girl.” It was a frantic mother weeping - and looking far up to the seventh story of a building she evidently had - just left. There leaning out of a window was a curly haired tot of a - child, perhaps not more than four years old, laughing and throwing kisses - toward her mama, all unconscious of danger. - </p> - <p> - “I came down,” sobbed the weeping mother to those around, - “to see what had happened. The stairway is now on fire, and I cannot - return. Will no one, oh Lord, will no one save my little girl?” - </p> - <p> - Roderick looked up to where the woman was pointing and saw the child. - </p> - <p> - “My God!” he exclaimed, “smoke is coming out of the next - window.” He noticed that the adjoining building was already a mass - of fire. At a glance he took in the situation. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on a minute,” he shouted. “I will try.” - </p> - <p> - There was an outside fire escape that led from the top story down to the - first floor. Roderick made a leap, caught hold of the awning braces, - pulled himself up with muscles of steel, and grasped the lowermost rung of - the escape. A moment later he was making his way up the narrow iron - ladder, pushing through the aperture at each floor, with almost superhuman - swiftness. When he reached the window he lifted the child in his arms and - hastily started on the downward journey. - </p> - <p> - “Hold tight, little girl,” was all Roderick said as he felt - the confiding clasp of her tiny arms about his neck. - </p> - <p> - Many of the people below besides the almost frenzied mother were watching - the heroic deed with bated breath. Just then a cry of terror went up. The - great wall of a burning building across the street was toppling outward - and a moment later collapsed, burying many unhappy victims beneath the - avalanche of broken brick and mortar. - </p> - <p> - Whether the little girl’s mother had been caught by the falling wall - or not Roderick had no means of determining. A choking cloud of dust, ash, - soot and smoke enveloped him in stifling darkness; he could hardly - breathe. The very air was heated and suffocating. But down and down he - went with his little burden clinging tightly to him. Arriving at the - awnings he swung himself over, secured a momentary foothold, then grasped - the braces with his hands and dropped to the littered sidewalk below. - </p> - <p> - The mother of the girl was nowhere to be seen. He turned down the street - to get away from the horrible sight of the dead and the piteous cries of - the dying. He had scarcely reached the next corner when the child, who was - mutely clinging to him as if indeed she knew he was her savior, released - her arms and called out gleefully: “Oh, there’s mama, mama, - mama.” Then the mother stood before him, weeping now for joy, and - through her tears Roderick saw a face of radiance and a smile of gratitude - that time or eternity would never erase from his memory. - </p> - <p> - Nothing mattered now—her little girl was safe in her arms. “I - don’t know who you are, sir,” she exclaimed, “but I owe - to you the life of my child, and may the good God bless you.” - </p> - <p> - But this was no time for thanks. Roderick was looking upward. - </p> - <p> - “Come quickly,” he shouted, “come this way—hasten.” - And he pulled them down a side street and away from another sky-scraper - that was trembling and wavering as if about to fall. - </p> - <p> - They turned, and ran along a street that was still free from fire and led - toward the St. Francis Hotel and the little park fronting it where - Roderick had sat at dawn. Carefully he guided the woman’s steps, - keeping to the middle of the street, for the sidewalk was encumbered with - debris and threatened by partly dislodged brickwork above. Here and there - the roadway was rumpled and rough as a washboard by reason of the - earthquake, while at places were great gaping fissures where the earth had - been split open many feet deep. But soon they were in the open square, and - mother and child were safe. Knowing this, Roderick allowed them to pass on—to - pass out of his life without even the asking or the giving of names. - </p> - <p> - For there was other work to his hand; he hurried back to the last - crossing. There under the fallen débris, was a woman obviously of - refinement and wealth whose life had been vanquished without warning. One - hand was extended above the wreckage. It was shapely and encircled with a - bracelet, while a single diamond solitaire ring adorned her finger—perhaps - a betrothal ring. Two human ghouls—not men—had whipped out - their ready knives and were in the very act of severing the finger to - obtain the jewel. It was these brutes that Roderick had come back to face. - </p> - <p> - Like a flash he leaped forward and with a well directed sledge-hammer blow - felled one of these would-be robbers of the dead. Then he grappled with - the second scoundrel. The man in his grip was none other than the outlaw, - Bud Bledsoe! - </p> - <p> - With knife already open and in his hand the inhuman wretch slashed - Roderick’s cheek, and the red blood spurted down his face and neck. - Roderick loosed his hold and stepped back a pace—the next gash of - this kind might easily be a fatal one. But not for one instant did he lose - his presence of mind or nerve. As the cowardly miscreant advanced, cruel - murder in his eyes, Roderick by a swift swing of his right parried the - upraised hand that held the knife, and then, seizing the opening, he - delivered with his left a smashing uppercut. Bledsoe reeled for a moment - like a drunken man, then sank to the ground a huddled heap, and finally - rolled over kicking convulsively and quite insensible. - </p> - <p> - The knockout had been effected quickly and well—like a butcher would - fell a bullock. - </p> - <p> - Already the devastated city was under martial law, and three or four - soldiers coming hurriedly up just then, and having seen from the opposite - corner the hellish attempt of the two wretches to despoil the dead, shot - them instantly, Bledsoe where he lay writhing, the other as he staggered - dazed-like to his feet. - </p> - <p> - Roderick wiped the blood from his face, and thanked the soldiers. “Good - for you, young fellow,” cried one of them as they continued on their - way. - </p> - <p> - His wound forgotten, Roderick again looked round to see where he could - render the most efficient service. - </p> - <p> - The night came on, and he was still at work, rescuing and helping. He had - been recognized by the Citizens’ Committee of Safety and now wore a - badge that gave him the freedom of the streets. In all his goings and - comings he was ever looking for General Holden, and he also made numerous - trips to Nob Hill, searching for the house where he had left Gail. But he - could never find the place again, for the raging fire was fast - obliterating all guiding landmarks. - </p> - <p> - Thus for two days—terrible days, pitiful days—for two nights—terrible - nights, pitiful nights—Roderick drifted with the bands of rescuers, - doing deeds of valor and of helpfulness for others less strong than - himself. His face was black with soot and clotted with blood, his coat he - had parted with at the beginning of the disaster, the rest of his clothing - was tattered and torn, his sombrero had disappeared, when and how he had - not the faintest notion. - </p> - <p> - The fire had now burned out its center circle and was eating away at the - rim in every direction. Roderick suddenly remembered he had tasted no food - since his early breakfast at Tate’s an hour before the earthquake - crash. The pangs of hunger had begun to make themselves felt, and he - concluded to turn his steps toward the outer fire line and endeavor to - find something to eat. - </p> - <p> - As he walked along from house to house he found them all deserted. Some of - the household goods were scattered about the lawns, while boxes, trunks, - and bulky packages were piled on the sidewalks. Presently he found a - basket which contained a single loaf of bread. This he ate ravenously, and - counted it the greatest feast he had ever had in his life. He ate as he - hurried along, thinking of Gail and General Holden—wishing he might - divide the bread with them. - </p> - <p> - The roar of consuming, crackling flames, the deep intonations of - intermittent dynamite explosions, and the occasional wail of human beings - in distress, rose and fell like a funeral dirge. - </p> - <p> - His feet intuitively turned back to the burned district. There might - yet be more work for him to do. - </p> - <p> - He determined to pick his way across the ruins, and ascending the hill - opposite make another desperate effort to find Gail. After a fatiguing - climb over hot embers and around the twisted steel skeletons of burned-out - buildings he finally stood on the rim of the hill above the saucer-shaped - valley of flames. Only charred and smoking ruins were about him. The - beautiful residential district had like the business sections below, been - swept with the fires of destruction. - </p> - <p> - Where was Gail? Was she safe? Was she dead? Would he ever find her? These - were some of the questions that kept him in agonizing incertitude. - </p> - <p> - There was a weird uncanny attraction about this great amphitheatre of - flame—an attraction like that of a lodestone; and he feared lest - Gail had left her refuge in a vain search for her father and met with - another serious accident. Roderick had visited all the unburned hospitals, - but no trace of General Holden had he been able to find. The quest for - both must be resumed; so down the hill he trudged again. - </p> - <p> - Ashes and burning cinders were falling like huge flakes of snow. Once more - Roderick was in the midst of a throng of people—gaunt and - hollow-eyed, wearied and worn-out, just staggering along. At last he - recognized the little park in front of the St. Francis Hotel. Yes, he - would go there, stretch himself on the grass, and rest and sleep for at - least a few hours. This would make him ill the fitter for his task of - searching. - </p> - <p> - Just as he was about to cross the street a dozen people shouted for him to - look out; but he did not turn quickly enough to discover nor escape a - burning wooden rafter that fell from the upper story of a building and - struck him an ugly glancing blow on the head. Roderick dropped to the - ground unconscious. - </p> - <p> - At this very moment a Red Cross automobile was passing. It stopped - abruptly at the sidewalk. Two men stepped quickly down and lifted the - almost lifeless body into the machine. A moment later the auto glided away - down a side street in the direction of Golden Gate Park. - </p> - <p> - That night there were many in the camps of refuge around the burning city - who thought about the tall, strong-muscled, square-jawed young stranger in - khaki garb, while their hearts welled up with gratitude for his timely - assistance and chivalrous deeds of bravery. Had they but known of the fate - that had at last befallen their nameless hero, grateful thoughts would - have been turned into fervent prayers. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE general shock - of horror caused by the San Francisco disaster was intensified at - Encampment when the news ran round that three local people had been in the - stricken city at the moment of the earthquake shock which had laid the - business centre in ruins and prepared the way for the subsequent - far-sweeping conflagration. No telegram came from either the Holdens or - Roderick Warfield, and their silence, their failure to relieve the anxiety - of the friends they must have known were deeply concerned about their - safety, could only cause ominous conjectures as to their fate. There was - no possibility of reaching them by wire, for the Palace Hotel, the only - known address, had been one of the first buildings destroyed. - </p> - <p> - But Buell Hampton did not wait for telegrams to reach him. He had no - sooner been apprised of the catastrophe than he was on his way to Rawlins, - hiring a special conveyance on the mere off-chance that railway schedules - would have been disarranged and a train might be caught at any moment. In - this he showed his usual good judgment for within an hour of reaching the - station he was on board a belated limited, in which he had the further - good fortune to find one solitary sleeping berth unoccupied. The train was - loaded with returning San Francisco people who had been absent when their - homes had been swept away, anxious friends of sufferers, doctors, nurses, - relief workers of every kind, newspaper men, all hurrying to the scene of - sorrow and suffering. - </p> - <p> - It was on the morning of the fifth day after the earthquake that Buell - Hampton, provided with a special permit, at last found himself amid the - ruins of San Francisco. Many buildings were still burning or smoldering, - but the area of destruction was now defined and the spread of the flames - checked. With saddened heart the Major picked his way along what once had - been Market Street but was now a long mound of fallen stones, bricks, and - mortar lined by the skeletons of lofty iron-framed buildings. Here the - work of clearing away the debris in search of victims was in progress. But - any inquiries of those actively engaged in these operations were useless. - Buell Hampton passed on. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly he came upon the bread line, a wonderful sight—a long row - of people of all sorts and conditions, the rich, the poor, the educated, - the ignorant, the well dressed, the tattered, ranged in single file and - marching slowly past the commissary to receive a supply of provisions for - their own famishing selves or for their destitute families. Buell Hampton - scanned each face; neither General Holden nor Roderick were in the line, - nor was there any sign of Gail. - </p> - <p> - Then he began a systematic visitation of the refuge camps that had been - formed around the bumed-out area. The remainder of that first day he spent - in Golden Gate Park. It was not until the succeeding afternoon that he - found himself in the crowded tent city out on the Presidio. Here at last - his patient and persistent efforts were rewarded. He caught sight of Gail - seated near the door of a tiny tent-house and strode eagerly forward to - greet her. In his deep emotion he folded the young girl to his breast, and - she in turn clung to him in her joy of meeting at last a dear friend from - home. - </p> - <p> - “Where is your father?” was the Major’s first inquiry. - </p> - <p> - “He is safe. We have this little tent, and I am nursing him. His - right arm was broken in the street accident, but immediately after the - fire began all the hospital patients were removed to open places, and here - I found him, thank God, the very first evening. You see, my uncle’s - house was burned. He is quartered across the bay at Oakland.” - </p> - <p> - “Your head is bandaged, Gail. Were you badly hurt?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, that was nothing,” she replied, pulling off the narrow - band of linen that encircled her brow. “Just a little scalp wound - when I fell, and it is quite healed now. But, oh, I remember so little - about the terrible disaster—how I got out of the Palace Hotel at - all.” - </p> - <p> - “And Roderick—where is Roderick?” asked Buell Hampton. - </p> - <p> - Gail’s eyes opened wide—with wonder, then with fear. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick, Roderick!” she exclaimed in a trembling voice. - “Then it was not a dream?” - </p> - <p> - “What dream?” - </p> - <p> - “That it was he who carried me out of the hotel building and to the - veranda of the house where he laid me on a cot and kind friends bathed my - wound.” - </p> - <p> - “No dream, this. It was Roderick for certain. He followed you on the - next train to San Francisco—intending to go straight to the Palace - Hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “Followed me? Why did he follow me?” - </p> - <p> - “To render you help when your father was hurt—because he loves - you—of course, you must have divined how deeply he loves you.” - </p> - <p> - The color rose slowly to Gail’s face. But there was fear still in - her eyes. She pressed her clasped hands to her breast. - </p> - <p> - “Then where is he now?” she asked in a tense whisper. - </p> - <p> - “That is what I want to know—I have been seeking both you and - him. When did you meet last?” - </p> - <p> - “Five days ago. After saving me he rushed straight away to seek for - Papa. I came to believe that it was all a dream. For I have not seen him - since. Oh, he must have been hurt—he may have been killed.” - And burying her face in her hands she burst into tears. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton laid a kindly hand on her shoulder. “Come, my dear, we - can do no good by giving way to weeping. I have been through many of the - refuge camps, and I shall go right on searching now. You see there are - thousands of people in these Presidio grounds. He may be within a stone’s - throw of us here at this very moment.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, let me help you.” With a hand she dashed away her tears, - and stood before him now, calm and resolute. “I will come with you - right now. I need no hat or anything.” - </p> - <p> - “But your father?” - </p> - <p> - “He is all right He is resting quite peacefully. Just spare one - moment, please. Come in and shake hands. He will be so happy to see you.” - </p> - <p> - She led the way to the tent door and parted the awning. Buell Hampton - entered and warmly greeted General Holden. But he told him he could not - linger, for Roderick must be found. - </p> - <p> - During the remaining hours of daylight the Major and Gail searched along - row after row of tents. But Roderick remained undiscovered—no one - had ever heard his name or could remember having seen anyone answering to - the description given. Reluctantly Buell Hampton quitted the quest and led - Gail back to her own place of refuge. - </p> - <p> - “I am sleeping at Berkeley,” he explained. “It is best - that we should both have our night’s rest. But I shall be back here - for you soon after daybreak, and if you can engage someone to watch by - your father we shall search together all day long. Will that suit, you, - Gail?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you are so kind taking me,” she replied, resting her - hands on his shoulders, tears of gratitude in the eyes that looked up into - his. “It would break my heart not to be with you.” - </p> - <p> - “I would not rob you of love’s sweet duty,” he replied - as he stooped and gently kissed her on the brow. - </p> - <p> - Another day went by, but still their efforts were unrewarded. On the - following morning they started for the Seal House, to search the many - improvised hospitals which they had learned were located there. The first - place they entered was an immense tent with two or three hundred cots - ranged in crowded rows. - </p> - <p> - As Buell Hampton and Gail walked down the long central aisle, each took - one side to scan the physiognomies of the poor sufferers, some moaning in - delirium, others with quiet pale faces that lighted up to return the smile - of sympathy and encouragement Presently, the Major who was walking a few - feet in advance heard an exclamation of joy, and turning quickly saw Gail - Holden kneeling at the side of a cot There was a bewildered look on the - face of the patient—a lean drawn face, pallid beneath the tan, the - chin stubbled with a beard of a few days’ growth, the forehead - swathed in bandages, one cheek scored with a healing scar. Gail had taken - one of his hands in both her own. He looked from Gail to Major Hampton and - then from the Major back to Gail. - </p> - <p> - “Is this a vision?” he asked feebly, as if doubting his - senses. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick, my dear fellow, is it really you?” exclaimed the - Major, as he bent down over him. “For days we have been hunting for - you. And now we’ve found your hotel”—he glanced around - with a little smile—“we don’t propose to lose sight of - you again.” - </p> - <p> - Loosening his hand from Gail’s and taking both of hers in his own - and smiling feebly, Roderick said: “Really, Gail, I hardly know yet - whether you are actually here or I am dreaming. You looked pretty white - that day I carried you from the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - “There is no dream about me, Roderick,” replied Gail brightly. - “We are going to take care of you, Major Hampton and myself, just as - you so kindly looked after poor little me.” - </p> - <p> - At this moment a nurse approached: “So your friends have found you, - Mr. Warfield?” she said with a cheerful smile. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Roderick, “the very best friends I have - in all the world.” As he spoke Gail felt the gentle pressure of his - hand. - </p> - <p> - “Is this your ward?” inquired the Major of the nurse. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I have had charge of it ever since this makeshift hospital was - put up.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, how is the patient, our friend Mr. Warfield?” - </p> - <p> - “He had received a pretty ugly cut—a falling piece of wood or - something of that sort—on the top and side of his head—a sort - of glancing bruise. But he is getting on very well now. We have his fever - under control. For a number of days he was very flighty and talked a great - deal about Major Hampton.” - </p> - <p> - “I am honored,” said the Major, bowing. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you are Major Hampton?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” said Gail, “Major Buell Hampton is Mr. Warfield’s - best friend—that is, one of the best.” And she looked quickly - at Roderick. - </p> - <p> - “How fortunate that you have come when he is convalescing. But tell - me,” asked the nurse, “who is Gail? In his delirium he talked - a great deal about her.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick’s face flushed, and Gail with rising color immediately - changed the subject by asking: “How soon would it be safe to have - the patient removed?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, perhaps tomorrow or the next day. The doctor says he is now - quite out of danger—the fever is practically gone.” - </p> - <p> - At Roderick’s request he was propped up on his little white iron - hospital cot, chairs were brought, and until far on in the afternoon Gail - and the Major sat on either side, conversing in quiet, subdued tones, - relating incidents in the terrible disaster, planning for their early - return to Wyoming just as soon as Gail’s father and Roderick himself - could stand the journey. - </p> - <p> - A couple of days later Buell Hampton and Gail arrived at the hospital in - an automobile, and carried Roderick away to a yacht anchored in the bay - that had been placed at their disposal. Here Roderick found General Holden - already installed in a comfortable deck chair, and he was introduced by - Gail to her Uncle Edward, a hale old gentleman bearing a striking - resemblance to his brother. The General looked fit even if he did carry - his right arm in a sling, Roderick although weak from loss of blood was - able to walk, and both could well congratulate each other on their - providential escape. - </p> - <p> - “We are not going to talk about these awful times,” said the - General as he gave Roderick his left hand and returned the cordial - pressure. “But I have to thank you for saving our dear Gail. We all - fully realize that without your brave and timely help we would not have - her with us today.” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense,” protested Roderick. “Somebody else would - have done what I did. I was just happy and lucky in having the privilege.” - </p> - <p> - “God bless you!” murmured the father, again pressing the hand - which he had not yet relinquished. - </p> - <p> - “And so say I,” exclaimed the uncle. “We could not do - without our little Gail.” And he patted her cheek affectionately. - </p> - <p> - There followed a week of blissful rest and happy companionship, at the end - of which it would have been a hollow mockery to pretend in the case of - either invalid that any more nursing or lolling in long chairs was - required. Railroad accommodations were secured for the morrow. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>EN days before the - departure from San Francisco telegrams had been sent in all directions - giving forth the glad tidings that General Holden and Gail, Roderick and - Buell Hampton, were safe and would soon be on their homeward way to - Wyoming. Among those thus notified had been the Shields family at Los - Angeles and Allen Miller at Keokuk. But it was a great surprise to find - Whitley Adams waiting the arrival of the morning train at Rawlins with his - big Sixty Horse Power automobile, and bearing the news that Mrs. Shields, - Barbara and Dorothy had returned, while also Uncle Allen and Aunt Lois had - come to Encampment so that appropriate welcome might be given to those who - had recently come through such terrible and harrowing experiences. Jim - Rankin and Tom Sun were also on the platform to exchange hand-grips with - Roderick and the Major. - </p> - <p> - After the first glad salutations Whitley pointed to his car, and announced - that he was going to drive the party over to Encampment. - </p> - <p> - “Sorry to be starting in opposition to the regular stage,” he - said with a sly little wink in Roderick’s direction. “But you - see Mr. Rankin’s horses are hardly good enough for the occasion.” - </p> - <p> - Jim drew himself up and pointed to his old Concord stage coach standing - by, all ready for the road. - </p> - <p> - “The dangnationest finest pair uv roan leaders and span uv blacks at - the wheel that ever had lines over ‘em in this part of the country,” - he declared sturdily. “Just wait a bit, young man. ‘Fore we’re - many miles on the road I make free to prognosticate you’ll be under - the bed-springs uv that new fangled wagon uv yours and my hosses will be - whizzing past you like a streak uv greased lightnin’. How would a - little bet uv ten or twenty dollars suit you?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, bankers never gamble,” replied Whitley with undisturbed - gravity. “Well, you’ll follow with the luggage, Mr. Rankin, - and no doubt we’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again sometime - tomorrow. Come away, Miss Holden. Luncheon is to be waiting at my hotel in - Encampment in a couple of hours.” - </p> - <p> - “Blame his skin,” muttered Jim when the big automobile had - whirled away. But Tom Sun was convulsed with laughter. - </p> - <p> - “He got your dander fairly riz, Jim,” he chuckled. - </p> - <p> - Jim’s visage expanded into a broad grin. - </p> - <p> - “Guess that’s just what he was arter. But ain’t he the - most sassy cock-a-whoop little cuss anyhow?” - </p> - <p> - “Shall I help you with the luggage?” laughed Tom Sun. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you just quit the foolin’ game, Tom. Don’t come - nachural from you. Besides I might be gettin’ a heap peevish and - kind o’ awkward with my artillery. Suppose we lubricate?” - </p> - <p> - So the old cronies crossed over to the Wren saloon, where a brace of - cocktails soon restored Jim’s ruffled dignity. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile the automobile was speeding along. - </p> - <p> - Roderick was on the driver’s seat beside Whitley, and absorbing the - news. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I just insisted on your Uncle Allen coming along,” - Whitley was telling him. “And Aunt Lois, too. My old folks will - arrive at the end of the week. Meantime Aunt Lois is helping me with my - trousseau.” - </p> - <p> - “Your trousseau!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—socks and things. You see it’s all fixed up between - me and dear Dorothy. Oh, she’s the best girl ever—you’ll - remember I said that from the first, Rod, my boy.” His face became - grave, and his voice took a humble tone. “Of course I know I can - never, fill the place of Grant Jones, and I told her that. But I’ll - do my best to make her happy, and I think she cares enough for me to let - me try.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick pressed the hand next him resting on the steering wheel. - </p> - <p> - “I’m sure you’ll be very happy, both of you,” he - said; “and I congratulate you, Whitley, old fellow, from the bottom - of my heart.” - </p> - <p> - Whitley looked round and was his gay, light-hearted self once again. - </p> - <p> - “Thanks, old chap. Well, Barbara and Ben Bragdon are also ready. We’re - only waiting for you and Gail.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick’s face reddened. - </p> - <p> - “You’re mighty kind but rather premature, I’m afraid.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, fudge and nonsense! We’re all agreed the thing’s - settled, or as good as settled. Great guns anyone with half an eye could - have told it, to see you handing her out of the train a little while ago.” - </p> - <p> - “Really, Whitley.” - </p> - <p> - “There now, just forget all that. So when talking matters over with - Bragdon and our dear twins I suggested that we might as well ring the - wedding bells for six as for two at a time—may come cheaper with the - Reverend Grannon, you know, if we hand it to him wholesale.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick no longer attempted to protest, and Whitley rambled on: “But, - say, old fellow, your Uncle Allen has one on you. He declares that Gail - Holden is just the very girl he intended for you right from the beginning—the - young lady about whom you kicked when you had that row in the banker’s - room a year and a half ago—Great Scott, how time does fly!” - </p> - <p> - “Impossible,” exclaimed Roderick in profound amazement - </p> - <p> - “The very same,” replied Whitley. “The little tot of a - girl with whom you had that desperate love affair down the river years and - years ago—oh, quite a pretty story; your uncle told it to me with no - end of charming details. And now he is mighty proud, I can tell you, over - his own foresight and sagacity in picking just the right girl for you at - the very start.” - </p> - <p> - “He said that, did he?” queried Roderick with a grim smile. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, and that if you had followed his advice you could have had her - then, without running away from home and facing all sorts of hardships and - dangers.” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir,” exclaimed Roderick firmly. “Gail Holden is - not that sort of girl. Uncle Allen forgets that she had to be won—or - rather has to be won,” he added, correcting himself when he caught - the smile on Whitley’s countenance. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you won’t forget,” laughed Whitley, “that I - stood out of the contest and left the way clear for you. Lucky, though, - that the College Widow took the bit between her teeth and bolted, eh, old - man?” - </p> - <p> - “Hush!” whispered Roderick, throwing a warning glance over his - shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “What are you two boys talking about?” asked Gail, with a - bright smile from her seat at the back of the tonneau. - </p> - <p> - “Old college days,” laughed Whitley, as he changed the clutch - for a stiff up-grade. - </p> - <p> - Arriving at Encampment, they found Allen Miller walking nervously up and - down the platform in front of the hotel. The red blood in Roderick’s - veins surged like fierce hammer strokes, with eagerness to once more grasp - the hand of his old guardian. - </p> - <p> - He hastily excused himself, jumped from the auto and grasped the extended - hand of his old guardian. He was soon led away by his uncle Allen, to the - parlors of the hotel, to meet his Aunt Lois. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I am so glad you brought Roderick here, Allen; for I just knew - that I would get all fussed up and cry. - </p> - <p> - “There, there, Aunt Lois,” said Roderick cheerily, after - embracing her warmly, “we are not going to be separated any more,—or, - if we are, it will not be for long at any one time. I know the way back to - old Keokuk,” said Roderick, laughing and hugging his dear aunt Lois - again, “and you and Uncle Allen now know the road out to the Wyoming - hills.” - </p> - <p> - “I declare, Lois,” said Uncle Allen, “you and Roderick - act like a couple of school children.” He laughed rather loudly as - he said this, to hide his own agitation; but it was noticed that his eyes - were filled with tears, which he hastily brushed away. - </p> - <p> - It was a happy luncheon party at the Bonhomme Hotel, Whitley playing the - host to perfection, his guests, besides the new arrivals, being the whole - Shields family, Banker Allen Miller and his wife, and the young state - senator, Ben Bragdon. And early in the proceedings Gail to her surprise - learned that Roderick was no other than her little boy lover on the river - steamer <i>Diamond Joe</i> some fifteen years ago, and blushed in sweet - confusion when Allen Miller in radiant good humor joked about coming - events casting their shadows before. Roderick went to her rescue and - promptly switched the topic of conversation. - </p> - <p> - Toward the close of the meal Buell Hampton was expounding to the banker a - great irrigation scheme he had in view—to bring into Encampment - Valley the waters of French Creek and Bear Creek, the former by a tunnel - through the Hunter Range, the latter by a siphon under the Great Platte - River, whereby a hundred thousand acres of rich valley lands, now - wilderness because waterless, could be brought into profitable - agricultural bearing. - </p> - <p> - “So you are going to drive us cattle men off the face of the - country,” laughed Mr. Shields. - </p> - <p> - “Better happy homes than roaming herds,” replied Buell - Hampton. “What nobler work could we take in hand?” he asked. - “The smelter and the mine are running themselves now. Let us then - see what we can do to make the desert blossom like the rose. Mr. Miller, - Mr. Shields, myself—we can all help with capital. Mr. Bragdon, there - is a life’s work for you in this enterprise.” - </p> - <p> - “Lawyers always come in for fat pickings,” laughed Whitley - Adams. - </p> - <p> - “General Holden,” continued the Major, “I am sure will - want to join in too. Then Roderick—” - </p> - <p> - He paused and glanced in his young friend’s direction. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I’m prepared to turn in all the gold from my mine,” - exclaimed Roderick enthusiastically. - </p> - <p> - Indeed Buell Hampton had kindled the spirit of enthusiasm all round. The - project was as good as launched—the dream of a generation of - pioneers within sight of realization. - </p> - <p> - When coffee was being served on the veranda, the Major drew Roderick - aside. They were seated alone at a little table. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick, my boy,” Buell Hampton began, “I want to see - you tonight at my home—all alone. Come about eight o’clock. I - have several matters of importance to communicate. During the afternoon I’ll - be busy—I have some banking business to transact, besides I wish an - hour or two with your uncle before my talk with you tonight. I am sorry to - leave such a happy gathering, but am sure”—this with a gentle - glance in Gail’s direction—“that the time will not hang - heavily on your hands. Until eight o’clock then;” and with a - tap on Roderick’s shoulder the Major crossed over and spoke a few - words to Allen Miller, the two taking their departure a few moments later. - </p> - <p> - Roderick was mystified—less by Buell Hampton’s actual words - than by his grave look and manner. - </p> - <p> - Meanwhile Gail had risen and entered the drawing room that opened by - French windows off the veranda, and the sound of her voice at the piano - broke him from his momentary reverie. He rose and joined her. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK was prompt - to the minute in keeping his appointment. He found the Major seated before - a bright log-fire, and his first glance around the old familiar room - showed the progress of some unusual preparations. The open lid of a - traveling trunk revealed clothing and books already packed; the violin in - its case rested on the centre table. - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton interpreted his visitor’s look of wonderment. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Roderick,” he said with a smile that was both tender and - serious, “I am going away. But let us take things in their order. - Sit down here, and let us smoke our pipes together in the old way—perhaps - it may be for the last time in each other’s company.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, don’t say that, my dear Major,” protested Roderick, - in accents of real concern. - </p> - <p> - But Buell Hampton motioned him to his seat, and passed over the humidor. - For a minute or two they smoked in silence. At last the Major spoke. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick, I have news that will greatly surprise you. I had a - telegram from Boney Earnest just before we left San Francisco. I said - nothing to you, for I did not wish with needless haste to disturb your - happiness.” - </p> - <p> - “Not about Gail?” asked Roderick, his face paling. - </p> - <p> - “No, no. This has nothing to do with Gail—at least it only - affects her indirectly. You spoke today at lunch time about turning in the - profits of your gold mine into the Encampment Valley irrigation scheme. I - want to put you right on this mining matter first. Boney Earnest’s - telegram showed that neither you nor I have a gold mine any longer. Hidden - Valley has disappeared. Our claims are under five hundred feet of water.” - </p> - <p> - “How could this have happened?” - </p> - <p> - “You have read in the newspapers that the cosmic disturbances of the - San Francisco earthquake extended entirely across the continent. Indeed - the shocks were felt distinctly in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and - other Atlantic points. Well, a number of prospectors have been up among - the mountains getting ready to stake around our claims, and they report - that three miles above Spirit Falls a vast new lake has been formed, - completely filling the canyon.” - </p> - <p> - “The shake brought down the grotto cavern, I suppose.” - </p> - <p> - “And sealed it, damming back the river. That is undoubtedly what has - happened. So Roderick, my dear fellow, you have to forget that gold. But - of course you know that all I have is yours to share.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, Major,” exclaimed Roderick, laying a hand on his - friend’s shoulder. “Besides your all too generous gift at - Denver, I have my salary from the smelter company, and I’m going to - chip in to the limit of my power for the advancement of that glorious - irrigation scheme of yours. I did without the mine before. Thank God I can - do without it now. My dear father’s letter served its purpose—it - brought me to Wyoming, and although I have no right to say so just yet I - do believe that it has won for me Gail Holden’s love.” - </p> - <p> - “I am sure of it,” remarked Buell Hampton quietly. “She - has loved you for a long time—you were all in all to her before you - followed to San Francisco, as the poor girl’s anguish showed during - those days when we both thought that you had perished.” - </p> - <p> - “Then, Major,” cried Roderick, the light of great joy - illuminating his countenance, “if I have won Gail Holden’s - love I have won greater treasure than the treasure of Hidden Valley—greater - treasure than all the gold claims in the world.” - </p> - <p> - “Spoken like a man,” replied Buell Hampton as he gripped - Roderick’s hand. The latter continued, his face all aglow: “Everything - has come out right When my Unde Allen refused to help me in my New York - ventures he really saved me from cruel and accursed Wall Street where more - hearts have been broken and lives of good promise wrecked than on all the - battlefields of the world. When he handed me my father’s letter, he - took me out of that selfish inferno and sent me here into the sweet pure - air of the western mountains, among men like you, the Reverend Stephen - Grannon, Ben Bragdon, Boney Earnest, and good old Jim Rankin too, besides - our dear dead comrade Grant Jones. Here I have the life worth living, - which is the life compounded of work and love. Love without work is - cloying, work without love is soul-deadening, but love and work combined - can make of earth a heaven.” - </p> - <p> - “And now you speak like a philosopher,” said Buell Hampton - approvingly. - </p> - <p> - “Which shows that I have been sitting at your feet. Major, for a - year past not altogether in vain,” laughed Roderick. “From - every point of view I owe you debts that can never be repaid.” - </p> - <p> - “Then let me improve this occasion by just one thought, Roderick. It - is in individual unselfishness that lies the future happiness of mankind. - The age of competition has passed, the age of combination for profit is - passing, the age of emulation in unselfishness is about to dawn. The - elimination of selfishness will lead to the elimination of poverty; then - indeed will the regeneration of our social system be begun. Think that - thought, Roderick, my dear fellow, when I am gone.” - </p> - <p> - It was ever thus that Buell Hampton sought to sow the tiny grain of - mustard seed in fertile soil. - </p> - <p> - “But why should you go away, Major?” asked Roderick - protestingly. - </p> - <p> - “Because duty calls me—my work for humanity demands. But we - shall come to that presently. For the moment I want to recall one of our - conversations in this room—in the early days of our friendship. Do - you remember when I gave it as my opinion that it would be conducive to - the happiness of mankind if there was no abnormal individual wealth in the - world?” - </p> - <p> - “That a quarter of a million dollars was ample for the richest man - in the world—I remember every word, Major.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, Roderick, today I have transferred to your credit in your - Unde Allen’s bank precisely this sum.” - </p> - <p> - “Major, Major, I could never accept such a gift.” - </p> - <p> - “Just hear me patiently, please. The sum is quite rightfully yours. - It is really only a small fraction of what your father’s claim might - have produced for you had I taken you earlier into my full confidence and - so helped you to the location of the rich sandbar with its nuggets of - gold. Moreover, you know me well enough to understand that I count wealth - as only a trust in my hands—a trust for the good of humanity. And I - feel that, in equipping such a man as yourself, a man whom I have tested - out and tried in a dozen different ways without your knowing it—in - equipping you with a sufficient competency I really help to discharge my - trust, for I invest you with the power to do unmeasured good to all around - you. I need not expatiate on such a theme; you have heard my views many - times. In sharing my wealth with you, Roderick, I simply bring you in as - an efficient helper for the uplift of humanity. It therefore becomes your - duty to accept the trust I hand over to you, cheerfully and wishing you - Godspeed with every good work to which you set your hand.” - </p> - <p> - “Then, Major, I can but accept the responsibility. I need not tell - you that I shall always try to prove myself worthy of such a trust.” - </p> - <p> - “I have yet another burden to place on your shoulders. The balance - of the wealth at my present disposal I have also handed over to you—as - my personal trustee. At this moment I do not know when and in what amount - I shall require money for the task I am about to undertake. Later on you - will hear from me. Meanwhile Allen Miller knows that my initial investment - will be equal to his own in the valley irrigation scheme. You, Roderick, - as my trustee may contribute further sums at your absolute discretion; if - the work requires help at any stage, use no stinting hand irrespective of - financial returns for me, because with me the thing that counts mainly is - the happiness and prosperity of this town, its people, and the surrounding - valley lands.” - </p> - <p> - “But, Major, can’t you remain with us and do these things - yourself?” - </p> - <p> - “No; the call is preemptory. And if perchance you should never hear - from me again, Roderick, continue, I beg of you, to use my money for the - good of humanity. Count it as your own, use it as your own. I lay down no - hard and fast rules to guide you. Give to the poor—give to those in - distress—pay off the usurer’s mortgage and stop excessive - interest that makes slaves of the poor family struggling to own a little - thatched cottage. Give wherever your heart is touched—give because - it is God’s way and God is prompting you by touching your heart.” - </p> - <p> - Roderick listened in silence, deeply moved. He saw that Buell Hampton’s - mind was made up—that no pleading or remonstrance could alter the - decision at which he had arrived. The Major had now risen from his chair; - there was a softness in the rich full tones of his voice, a look of half - pain in his eyes, as he went on: “But remember, although we may be - parted, our friendship abides—its influences endure. Friendship, my - dear Roderick, is elemental—without commencement and without end—a - discovery. From the beginning of furthest antiquity, the pathway of the - centuries have been lined with tablet-stones pronouncing its virtues. - Friendship is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever. It is an - attraction of personalities and its power is unseen and as subtle as the - lode-stone. It is the motive that impels great deeds of bravery in behalf - of humanity. It speaks to the hearts of those who can hear its accents of - truth and wisdom, and contributes to the highest ideals of honor, to the - development of the sublimest qualities of the soul. It is the genius of - greatness; the handmaiden of humanity. I have sometimes thought that if we - could place in our own souls a harp so delicately attuned that as every - gale of passion, of hope, of sorrow, of love and of joy swept gently over - the chords, then we would hear in the low plaintive whisperings the melody - of friendship’s sweetest note—that quivers and weeps and - laughs on the shore line of immortality.” - </p> - <p> - “Your friendship, Major,” said Roderick fervently, “will - always be one of the most deeply cherished things in my life. But I cannot - reconcile myself to the thought that we should part.” - </p> - <p> - Buell Hampton laid a hand upon the young man’s shoulder. - </p> - <p> - “Duty calls—the two little words are enough, although it - grieves me sore to think that most likely we shall never meet again. Your - work is here—your usefulness lies here. But as for me, my mission in - the hills is finished. I am going to a far away country—not a new - one, because there are many in squalor and poverty where duty leads me. - There I will begin again my labors for the lowly and the poor—for - those who are carrying an unjust portion of life’s burdens. There is - no lasting pleasure in living, my dear Roderick, unless we help hasten the - age of humanity’s betterment. Good-by,” concluded the Major, - smiling into Roderick’s eyes and pressing his hand warmly—“good-by.” - </p> - <p> - Almost dazed by the suddenness of the parting Roderick Warfield found - himself out in the darkness of the night He was stunned by the thought - that he had gripped his dear friend’s hand perhaps for the last time—that - there had gone out of his life the one man whom above all others he - honored and loved. - </p> - <p> - Thus passed Buell Hampton from among the people of the hills. None of his - intimates in or around Encampment ever saw him again. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>N the following - afternoon Roderick saddled his pony Badger and rode over to the Conchshell - ranch. The Holdens received the news of Buell Hampton’s mysterious - departure with deep regret; the Major had become very dear to their - hearts, how dear they only fully realized now that he was gone. - </p> - <p> - It was toward evening when Gail proposed that they go riding in the woods. - The invitation delighted Roderick, and Fleetfoot and Badger were speedily - got ready. - </p> - <p> - “Let us follow the old timber road to the south,” Roderick - suggested. “I want to show you, only a few miles from here, a - beautiful lake.” - </p> - <p> - “I know of no such lake,” she replied. - </p> - <p> - “Yet it is less than five miles away, and we shall christen it - Spirit Lake, if you like the name, for it lies above Spirit Falls.” - </p> - <p> - “You are dreaming. There is no such lake.” - </p> - <p> - “I will show it to you. Come along.” - </p> - <p> - Upward and onward he led her over the range. And when they gained the - summit, there at their feet lay the great new lake about which Buell - Hampton had told him, fully seven miles long and two miles wide, and not - less than six or seven hundred feet deep as Roderick knew, for he had - gathered nuggets of gold on the floor of the little canyon now submerged - beneath the placid blue waters. - </p> - <p> - Gail gazed in silent admiration. At last she exclaimed: “Spirit - Lake! It is well named. It is more like a dream than reality.” - </p> - <p> - He helped her from the saddle. They tethered their mounts in western - fashion by throwing the reins over the horses’ heads. They were - standing under the branches of a big pine, and again they gazed over the - waters. At the lower end of the lake was a most wonderful waterfall, - dashing sheer down some four hundred feet into Spirit River. - </p> - <p> - For several minutes they continued to gaze in enraptured silence on the - scene of tranquil beauty. Toward the east the forest was darkly purple—to - the west, across the waters, the hills were silhouetted in splendid - grandeur against a magnificent sunset. The whole range seemed clothed in a - robe of finest tapestry. The sun was rapidly approaching the rim of the - western horizon. - </p> - <p> - The afterglow of the red sunset marked paths of rippling gold on the - waters. Vague violet shadows of dusk were merging over all. Nature was - singing the lyric of its soul into things—crooning lake and - mountains and forest-clad slopes to slumber. - </p> - <p> - It was Gail who at last broke the spell. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, how beautiful, how supremely beautiful,” she murmured. - </p> - <p> - “Well, it is the earthquake that has wrought all this wonderful - change,” explained Roderick’. “And now, dear Gail, I - have a story to tell you.” - </p> - <p> - And, seating her on the turf by his side, under the big pine, where the - waters lapped at their very feet, he proceeded to relate the whole - romantic story of his father’s lost find—his own lost claim. - By the time the narrative was ended the sun had set behind the hills. - Roderick rose, and giving his hands, helped Gail to her feet. - </p> - <p> - “So all this wonderful treasure of Hidden Valley lies beneath these - waters,” she exclaimed. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, but for me the real treasure is here by my side.” - </p> - <p> - As he spoke these words his arm stole around her waist. She did not appear - to notice his half timid embrace as together they stood viewing the - panorama of a dying day. Presently he drew her closer. - </p> - <p> - “The day and the night blend,” he whispered softly as if - fearful of disturbing the picture. “Shall not our lives, sweetheart,” - asked Roderick with vibrant voice, “likewise blend forever and - forever?” - </p> - <p> - Gail half turning lifted her slender hands to Roderick’s cheeks and - he quickly clasped her tightly in his strong arms and kissed her madly on - lips, eyes and silken hair. - </p> - <p> - “Roderick, my lover—my king,” said Gail through pearly - tears of joy. - </p> - <p> - “My little Gail,” whispered Roderick, exultantly, “my - sweetheart—my queen.” - </p> - <p> - Slowly the light of day vanished. The sounds of night began walking abroad - in the world. Dusk wrapped these lovers in its mantle. The day slept and - night brooded over forest, lake and hills. - </p> - <p> - In a little while they lifted the bridle reins of their mounts and turning - walked arm in arm down the old timber road toward Conchshell ranch. - </p> - <p> - They halted in the darkness and Roderick said: “Do you mind, dear, - if I smoke?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not,” was her cheery reply. - </p> - <p> - He bit the cigar and struck a match. The fight reflected on Gail’s - radiant face. “Wonderful,” he ejaculated as he tossed the - match away, laughing softly. He had quite forgotten to light his cigar. - </p> - <p> - “Why, what did you see, Roderick, you silly fellow, that is so - wonderful?” - </p> - <p> - “I saw,” said Roderick, “the dearest little woman in the - wide, wide world—my mountain song girl—who is going to be - kissed with all the pent-up passion of a ‘grizzly’ in just - one-half second.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - AFTERWORD - </h2> - <p> - Into the warp and woof of my story of the West, “The Treasure of - Hidden Valley,” there have been woven a few incidents of the great - calamity that some years ago befell the city of San Francisco. Perhaps - some of my readers will care to peruse a more detailed description of that - tragic happening. - </p> - <h3> - W. G. E. - </h3> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was on April 18, - 1906, that San Francisco was shaken by a terrible earthquake which in its - final effects resulted in the city being cremated into cinders and gray - ashes. - </p> - <p> - The trembling, gyrating, shaking and swaying vibrations, the swiftly - following outbursts of fire, the cries of those pinned beneath fallen - débris and of the thousands who were seeking to escape by fleeing into the - parks and toward the open country, produced the wildest pandemonium. - </p> - <p> - While there was no wind, yet a hundred fires originating at different - points quickly grew into sheets of towering flame and spread to adjacent - buildings, burning with demoniacal fierceness as if possessed by some - unseen mysterious power, pouring forth red hot smoke until the prostrate - city was melted into ruin by the intense heat of a veritable hell. - </p> - <p> - The night of April 17 and 18 had almost ended in San Francisco. It had - been like many another night in that cosmopolitan city. Pleasure-seekers - were legion,—negligent, care-free, wrapped in the outward show of - things—part of it good—part of it not so good—some of it - downright wicked as in Ancient Pompeii. Yet the hour was late—or - early, whichever you will—even for San Francisco. The clock in the - city hall had resounded forth five strokes. Peaceful folk were in the - realm of dreams that precede awakening. The roistering hundreds of a - drunken night had gathered in places of vice and were sleeping away the - liquor fumes. The streets were almost deserted. - </p> - <p> - The great printing presses that had been reverberating with the thunders - of a Jove, gathering and recording the news from the four quarters of the - earth, had paused and all was still. Here and there morning papers were on - the streets and the preliminary work was in progress of sending them forth - to the front doorsteps of the homes of rich and poor, from one end of the - city to the other. Then, without warning, just eighteen minutes after the - city clock had tolled its five strokes, one of the greatest news items and - tragedies of the world’s history was enacted. An historical - milestone of the centuries was on that eventful morning chiseled on the - shore line of the Pacific Coast. - </p> - <p> - Suddenly from the womb of sleeping silence, from far below the earth’s - crust, just as the dawn of a new day began purpling the eastern sky, there - came forth a rumbling and muttering of unearthly noises like the - collapsing of palaces of glass or the clanking of giant chains. It came - from beneath the entire city and was borne upward and abroad on the - startled wings of a mysterious fear. It was a shrieking, grinding - confusion of subterranean thunder, like the booming of heavy artillery in - battle. It was deafening in its dreadfulness, and drove terror to the - heart of the hardiest. It sounded to the affrighted people as if two - mighty armies of lusty giants of the underworld were grappling in mortal - combat and in their ferocious anger were unwittingly breaking the earth’s - fragile shell into yawning cracks and criss-cross fissures. Mount - Tamalpais was fluttering like the wings of a snared pigeon. - </p> - <p> - In the space of seconds, the whole populace awoke, excepting those who had - answered the last call; for some there were, pinned under falling walls, - who were overtaken by swift death in the very act of awakening. - </p> - <p> - The uncounted number that were crushed to death and had life’s door - closed to them forever, no one will ever know. In the forty-eight seconds - that followed the beginning of the deep guttural bellowing of hideous - noises from somewhere below the earth’s surface, buildings rocked - and heaved and twisted, while heavy objects of household furniture were - tumbled across rooms from one corner to the other and the occupants - helplessly tossed from their beds. - </p> - <p> - Such an awakening, such lamentations, such cursing, such prayers, and then - into the debris-littered streets the multitude began pouring forth, - half-clothed, wild and panic-stricken. - </p> - <p> - The stunning shock, like a succession of startled heart-beats, lasted - twelve seconds less than one minute, but those who experienced the ordeal - say it seemed an eternity—forty-eight seconds—terrible seconds—of - sickening, swaying suspense. A heaving earth, jerking, pulsing to - and fro in mad frenzy, while countless buildings were swaying and keeping - time to a wild hissing noise like the noise of boiling, blubbering fat in - a rendering caldron. - </p> - <p> - It was the dawn of a new day abounding in hideous noises—detonations - of falling masonry, the crash of crumbling, crushing walls, the shrieks of - maimed and helpless victims—and all the people stupefied with a - terrible fear, women weeping in hysterical fright and everyone expectant - of they knew not what, unable to think coherently or reason, yet their - voices filling the stricken city with cries and moans of heart-rending - terror and lamentation. And all the while there came up from somewhere an - unearthly threatening roar that awed the multitude into unnatural - submissive bewilderment. - </p> - <p> - At the end of eight and forty seconds the frantically tossed earth quieted—became - normal and was still. Some of the buildings righted and were quiescent, - and a moment of silence followed, except for the crowing of cocks, the - whinnying of frightened horses and the whining of cowering dogs. This - condition, however, was only of momentary duration. - </p> - <p> - Almost immediately the streets became a wild scene of turmoil as the - half-clothed, half-crazed men, women and children went rushing up and down - in every direction, they knew not why nor where. Doors were broken open to - allow egress, shutters were slammed, windows were hastily raised, and like - a myriad of ants the rest of the people who until now had been penned up, - struggled forth into open ways—thinly clad, some almost naked, - trembling, gazing about awe-stricken, looking each at his fellow, - indifferent to the destruction going on about them, each filled with - prayerful thankfulness for life. Then, like a rehearsed orchestra of many - voices, there arose, seemingly in unison, a chorus of heart-piercing wails - and calls from thousands of throats for loved ernes—loved ones lost - who could not answer. - </p> - <p> - In the pale light of that April dawn, this vast army of survivors, while - chilled with outward cold, shivered also with an unspeakable inward dread. - </p> - <p> - Along the streets of proud San Francisco in every direction were huge - masses of bricks, cornices, fallen ragged chimneys and walls, tumbled - together in complex dykes of débris like the winrows of a hay field and - interspersed with the dead and dying bodies of man and horse alike, - vanquished in life’s uneven contest. - </p> - <p> - A little later in the vicinity of the ten-million-dollar courthouse, - crowds of frightened people gathered, attracted perhaps by the terrific - thundering of the mammoth stone slabs and concrete sides and columns of - the structure, as, in their loosened condition from the steel skeleton, - they kept crashing down upon the street in riotous disorder. - </p> - <p> - Every block in the city held its tragedy, its silent evidence of a mighty - internal upheaving of Goliath strength. There were hundreds of dead, while - others lay maimed in tortured suffering, buried under wreckage, pinned - down by the giant hands of the Angel of Destruction. The unfortunates - still living were fastened like insects caught in traps, helpless, but - hoping for relief, awaiting the unwritten chapter that was yet to come. - </p> - <p> - The great earthquake of San Francisco had spent its force—its rude - results lay in careless disheveled evidence on every hand—and now - the nerve-strained, half-crazed and bewildered people caught the sound of - fire bells clanging hurriedly into nearer distances. - </p> - <p> - The fire hose and the corps of hook and ladder men came rushing with all - speed, drawn by frenzied horses, hastily turning street corners and - dashing around fallen walls while the automatic fire bells were cutting - the air in metallic, staccato beats of wildest alarm. Soon the throbbing - of the fire engines began and false hope sprung rife in the hearts of the - people. Those running south on Market Street paused in bewilderment, not - knowing which way to go, for fire calls and flames were evident, not in - one location nor two, but in hundreds at widely separated places - throughout the erstwhile magnificent metropolis of the Occident. - </p> - <p> - Black columns of smoke began rising from ominous red furnace flames - beneath, and curled lazily into the balm of the upper air, indifferent to - the wails of the helpless unfortunates maimed and pinned beneath the - wrecked buildings of a demolished and burning city. - </p> - <p> - The murky smoke like mourning crape hung mutely above, while beneath its - canopy life’s sacrificial offering lay prostrate, the dying and the - dead. The consuming flames spread quickly, and the horror of the hopeless - condition of the injured was soon apparent, while the sobs and cries of - the doomed victims became maddening because of the very impotency to - succor them. - </p> - <p> - The suddenness of it all did not give time for the rescuers. Then too, the - smoke-blinded and half-choked people in the crowded, congested streets - were stampeding toward the open country—to Golden Gate Park and the - Presidio. Many of the trapped victims, well and strong, might have escaped - but could not exert normal power to shake off the fetters that held them - down under fallen wreckage too heavy for their hampered strength. It was a - veritable bedlam, some cursing, some praying, most all crying loudly as if - in crazed pain for assistance. - </p> - <p> - The first paroxysm passed, the poor unfortunates seemingly became more - patient, believing that relief would surely come. The crackling flames - mounted higher and came alarmingly nearer. Finally, as the conflagration - with a hurried sweep began to envelop these pinioned human beings, they - shrieked in agony like lost souls in terrible anguish at a most horrible - and certain death. Their voices rose with the rising of the flames until - at last the piteous cries were hushed perforce, and only the crackling - sound of burning wood and the forked tongues of raging red fire greeted - the sun, that morning of April 18, as it climbed above the eastern - mountains and looked upon the scene of woeful destruction. - </p> - <p> - Is it any wonder that strong men wept? Is it to be marveled at that those - separated from friends and relatives grew bewildered, frantic and crazed - with grief and fear, and that chaos reigned supreme? - </p> - <p> - Gradually amid the whirl of emotions there stepped forth men who until now - had been stunned into silence and temporarily bereft of reason. The first - staggering shock passed, they became possessed in a measure with calmness - and courage. They girded their belts afresh and although many of them - began by cursing the heartless, cruel fire and the terribleness of it all, - they quickly and determinedly turned to the stupendous work of endeavoring - to subdue its ravages. - </p> - <p> - Then a new terror raised its ghostly head and held the people in a grip of - deepest despair. The earthquake had broken the supplying water mains, and - presently the city was without water and the fire engines and other - fire-fighting apparatus were worthless junk. It was a grievous blow to - momentarily raised hopes and courageous resolution. - </p> - <p> - The flames raged on with the fleetness of race horses, eating out the - heart of the city, burning it into cinders, and cremating the flesh and - bone of fallen victims. - </p> - <p> - Dynamite was brought into use, gunny sacks and bedding of all sorts were - saturated with water from barrels and tanks. Grappling hooks and human - hands made up the armament of puny defense against the over-powering and - masterful flames of annihilation. - </p> - <p> - Against these feeble weapons, the grim demon of fire planned an attack of - certain devastation. It was as if his Satanic Majesty with all his imps - were in their ruthless cunning directing a fiendish work that would permit - no record but death to the unfortunate, no record to the proud city but - gaunt-ribbed skeleton buildings, red hot cinders and blackened ash heaps. - </p> - <p> - Overturned stoves in a thousand houses throughout the residential - districts had early started a multitude of fires and split the - fire-fighters into many divisions, and therefore into less effective units - in their futile efforts even partially to check the mighty master—the - devouring tempest of fire that crackled and sported in its insatiable - greed. - </p> - <p> - There was still to follow yet another misfortune, an execrable crime—that - of wicked inhuman incendiarism. At places flames burst forth kindled by - the hands of a coterie of merciless ghouls. These inhuman devils added to - the calamities heaped upon their fellows by setting fire to unburned - dwellings whose owners had fled. There was neither necessity nor reason - for their dastardly acts. With sponges soaked in kerosene, they did this - damnable work—indulging dreams perhaps of greater loot, greed and - avarice in their cruel eyes, blackest hell in their debauched hearts. - </p> - <p> - In the beginning of this losing fight with terrors of the fire king, - seemingly unconquerable, only one ray of hope was discernible—there - was no wind from ocean or bay in San Francisco that April morning. The - clouds that filled the heavens with ominous blackness were only stifling - smoke from the burning buildings below. - </p> - <p> - High above the crimson snake-tongued flames the black smoke hung like a - pall, silent and motionless, while fringing it around far away in every - direction was the clear blue sky, serene, unfathomable. - </p> - <p> - As the heroic work of fighting the fire demon progressed, it was soon - discovered that the police were insufficient. Crowds of ghouls were - pressing the firemen, while robbery, rapine and murder ran riot. Human - blood that day was easily spilled. For the sake of pelf and plunder, life - was cheap. - </p> - <p> - The boldness of this lawless condition brought about its own remedy. - Strong men arose in their might. Under able leadership they quickly formed - a committee of safety. The National Guard was sent to help them. - </p> - <p> - General Fred Funston of the U. S. Army telegraphed to the Secretary of War - for authority, and within three hours was hurrying United States troops - into the burning city, and immediately placed it under martial law. The - crowds were quickly driven back by the soldiers, fire lines were - established, government troops, guards and police all bent nobly to the - task of endeavoring to subdue the flames. Buildings were dynamited to shut - off the fire’s progress, insubordinate as well as predatory ruffians - were shot down without mercy, and thus was order brought out of chaos. But - as the hours went by, despite all efforts, the gormandizing flames - consumed acres and acres of buildings. - </p> - <p> - Every wandering automobile was pressed into service and loaded with - dynamite. Thus for hour after hour the losing fight with the merciless - flames went on. - </p> - <p> - As the fire burnt its way south on Market Street, the isolated centers - crept toward each other with ever widening circles of flame. While there - was no breeze to fan them on, yet the flames seemed possessed of some - invisible means of progression—an unseen spirit of continued - expansion lurked within. The buildings were like so much dry timber, - igniting without direct contact of spark or flame, only from the - tremendous heat that was generated. Sweeping on and on the different - conflagrations at last came together—joined in greater strength, - flared up hundreds of feet high, until it looked as if the entire city was - one vast molten lake of undulating waves of fire. - </p> - <p> - The roar of the flames could be heard far beyond the confines of the city—the - immense columns and clouds of black smoke continued to sweep upward, until - high aloft they spread out into the great canopy as if in shame they fain - would hide from angels above the terrible destruction being wrought in - this fiery pit below. - </p> - <p> - As the hours went by, the exodus of people continued. The fascination of - it all held the multitudes spell-bound. They for a time were forgetful of - hunger, but moved on, this way and that as the burning districts compelled - them to go. The public parks began to fill with refugees. The Presidio and - the hills overlooking the city were blackened with throngs of people - shivering from cold and beginning to suffer the pangs of hunger, the rich - and the poor touching shoulders, condoling one with the other in - lamentations. This surging mass of famishing humanity were clothed, or - partially clothed, in strange and ridiculous costumes. - </p> - <p> - Household goods littered the outlying streets. Most of the wayfarers who - reached the country had little luggage. Many had carried some useless - article nearest at hand, selected in their hurry without thought of its - value or utility. - </p> - <p> - One woman held a bird cage under her arm—empty, with the door - swinging open. Another carried a carving knife in one hand and a - feather-bedecked hat of gaudiness in the other. One man was seen dragging - an old leather-bound trunk by a rope—investigation proved the trunk - to be without contents. - </p> - <p> - Notwithstanding the people had lost their all, and in most cases were - famishing, yet the great mass were good-natured and tolerant, the strong - helping the weak. The chivalry of the West and its rugged manhood abided - in their midst There was a common brotherhood in the ranks of these - homeless human beings. Distinctions between rich and poor were obliterated—they - were all fellow refugees. - </p> - <p> - No street cars were running in the city. Market Street, into which the - greater number of street car railroad tracks converged, was littered with - fallen buildings, useless hose and fire fighting apparatus, twisted beams, - cinders, heaps of hot ashes and charred bodies of the dead. - </p> - <p> - It was about eleven o’clock in the morning of the first day of this - terrible devastation that the famous Palace Hotel had finally been emptied - of its last guest. The rooms throughout were bestrewn with fallen plaster - from ceiling and walls, but otherwise, strange to narrate, the structure - had suffered but little damage from the earthquake while all around were - collapsed and fallen buildings. - </p> - <p> - At the Mission Street side of the building and on the roof the employees - had fought bravely to save this noted hostelry. But as the noon hour - approached they gave up all hope. Hurrying through the rooms of the - departed guests in an endeavor to save, if possible, abandoned luggage, - they gossiped about the “yellow streak,” as they called it, of - a world-noted singer—a guest of the hotel—who had been - frightened almost to death by the earthquake and developed evidence of - rankest selfishness in his mad efforts to save himself. - </p> - <p> - Then in sadder tones they talked of the impending and inevitable - destruction of the magnificent hotel, where most of them had been employed - for years. As the heat from the on-sweeping flames began to be unbearable, - they hurried away one by one until the famous caravansary was finally - deserted by man and in full possession of the ruthless devouring flames. - </p> - <p> - Great crowds stood on Montgomery Street near the site of the Union Trust - Building and watched the burning of the Palace Hotel. Held back by the - soldiers in mournful silence, the mass of people watched the angry flames - leaping from roof and windows. Soon the fire spread to the Grand Hotel - across the street. The flames shot up higher, and then when their task of - destruction was finally finished, gradually sank down until nothing but - roofless, windowless, bare bleak walls, gaunt, blackened and charred, were - left—a grim ghost of the old hotel that boasted of a million guests - during its gorgeous days of usefulness, and around which twined a thousand - memories of the golden days of the Argonauts of California. - </p> - <p> - Half a block away a newspaper building had been blown up by dynamite—a - similar attempt with the Monadnock Building failed of its purpose. - </p> - <p> - When night finally fell, those on the north side of Market Street rejoiced - greatly, for it seemed that the fire, at least in the down-town business - district, had burned itself into submission. So said a well-known milliner - for men, as he ate a huge steak at a famous resort on the ocean shore and - indulged heavily in champagne in celebration of the saving of his - premises. He celebrated a day too soon—the following morning his - business house was in ashes. - </p> - <p> - To the few who were care-free in the sense that they had not lost - relatives or friends, the panorama of the fire when darkness came on will - never be forgotten because of the wonderful pyrotechnic display—the - magnificent yet appalling splendor and beauty of the burning city. - </p> - <p> - The scene was set as by a wonder-hand of stagecraft. The fire was raging - fiercely in an immense pit—topographically the lowest part of the - city. Around this pit the rising ground, like a Greek amphitheatre, - stretched up toward the Sutro Estate and Ricon Hill on the one side and - toward California Street, Nob and Telegraph Hills on the other. To the - east was Alcatraz like a sentinel in the waters; across the Bay the cities - of Alameda, Oakland and Berkeley. On every vantage point the people - gathered—on the heights of Alcatraz and on the roofs of buildings in - the trans-bay cities. In silence they gazed at the awe-inspiring drama of - destruction that was being enacted before them. - </p> - <p> - With the advance of night, the towering flames in this vast sweep of many - miles of a circular fire line presented a scene that defies description. - The general color effect was of a deep blood red, while the smoke as a - background to the picture belched up in rolling black volumes, with here - and there long forks of flashing fire shooting above the deep crimson glow - of the mighty furnace. - </p> - <p> - Before the roaring billows of flame the tallest buildings were as tinder - wood in their helplessness. The Call Building, lifting its head high above - its neighbors, was like an ignited match-box set on end. The living - flaming wall behind overtopped it as a giant does a pigmy. - </p> - <p> - Nine o’clock! Ten o’clock! Midnight!—and those who - watched and waited and slept not, with nothing but excitement to stay - their hunger, saw in the lurid light that by a flank movement the fire had - unexpectedly crept far up Montgomery Street from the Ferry. The trade - winds were stirring. The fire, in its pulsing undulations, presented the - lure and the sensuous poetry of death. It barred all trespassing on the - one side and burnt its way through on the other. It was seen that the - entire banking district was doomed. Alas, the feeble protests of feeble - men! It was a wild outlaw, untamed and untamable fire, that defied all - human interference. - </p> - <p> - And Chinatown—the world-noted Chinatown of San Francisco—what - of that? It too had gone the way of annihilation. They say brutality was - practiced, and it is whispered to this day that those in charge of - dynamiting the Chinatown section of the city were careless and did not - warn the inmates of opium dens—it is said they blew up many - buildings that held within them, or in the grottoes beneath, innumerable - inmates. Whether or not this is true no one can positively say. If true, - there is some excuse. The Chinese dwellings were honey-combed underground - with dark and devious passages, and it was perhaps impossible, for lack of - time and dearth of knowledge how to penetrate these hidden recesses, to - warn the drugged dreamers. - </p> - <p> - In this district the fire raged as if possessed by a million devils. Over - the city’s tenderloin on the edge of Chinatown, it swept with a - flame of reckless wrath and purification. Buildings whose very timbers - were steeped in vice and immorality burned into ashes of cleanliness. The - haunts of the lustful, the wine-bibber and the dope-fiend were consumed in - a fashion horrible, terrible, pitiless and final. - </p> - <p> - The city was burned into scrap iron of contortioned steel beams, ragged - chimneys half broken and heaps of blackened cinder. As the hours went by - it seemed the fire continually found new fuel to feed upon in its savagery - and madness. The accumulation of days and years of human labor crumbled - into nothingness. Thousands, then hundreds of thousands, then millions, - until the enormous total reached $600,000,000 of wealth that was melted - away in this fiery crucible! - </p> - <p> - Egypt, cursed by Moses and weeping for its firstborn, was in no more - pitiable plight than this calamity-visited city of San Francisco shaken by - earthquake shock, then swept by fire. - </p> - <p> - Four and one-half miles one way the fire travelled, then four and one-half - miles the other it burned its devastating way. Behind it in its path of - ruin were only cracked granite walls, twisted steel girders, crumbling and - broken cornices; before it, a scattering field of a few untouched - buildings yet to conquer. - </p> - <p> - A Nero with an evil eye on a city’s undoing, and the power of a - wicked tyrant to fulfill his sordid wish, could have been no more ruthless - in his dastardly heartless methods of destruction. - </p> - <p> - When the fire was finally ended the buildings that had been burned, if - placed in a row, would have extended for two hundred miles in a straight - line. - </p> - <p> - Never in the world’s history has there been such a fire. The burning - of ancient London was child’s play beside it. Chicago’s fire - was a mere bagatelle. Never has the world read, never had the world - dreamed, of such a conflagration. In days to come, grandfathers will tell - of it to their grandchildren, nodding their sage old heads to emphasize - the horror of it all, relating to the young people who gather about their - knees, how great buildings supposed to be fire-proof crumpled up before - the swirling sheets of melting flame and the entire city became a prey to - the all-devouring conqueror. And this is the tragic story of proud San - Francisco, cosmic-tossed and fire-beleaguered capital of the Occident. - </p> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by -Willis George Emerson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY *** - -***** This file should be named 52461-h.htm or 52461-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/4/6/52461/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by Google Books - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by Willis George Emerson
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-Title: The Treasure of Hidden Valley
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY ***
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-provided by Google Books
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-</pre>
- <div style="height: 8em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY
- </h1>
- <h2>
- By Willis George Emerson
- </h2>
- <h4>
- Chicago: Forbes & Company
- </h4>
- <h3>
- 1915
- </h3>
- <p class="indent15">
- Sons of the rugged, rock-ribbed hills,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Far from the gaudy show
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Of Fashion’s world-its shams and frills
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Brothers of rain and snow:
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Kith of the crags and the forest pines,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Kin of the herd and flock;
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Wise in the lore of Nature signs
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Writ in the grass and rock.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Beings of lithe and lusty limb,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Breathing the broad, new life,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Chanting the forest’s primal hymn
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Free from the world’s crude strife.
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Your witching lure my being thrills,
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- O rugged sons! O rugged hills!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0002.jpg" alt="0002 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0002.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0010.jpg" alt="0010 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0010.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <h3>
- DEDICATED
- </h3>
- <h3>
- TO
- </h3>
- <h3>
- THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER
- </h3>
- <h3>
- REVEREND STEPHEN LAFAYETTE EMERSON
- </h3>
- <h3>
- (The Flockmaster of this story)
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- <b>CONTENTS</b>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY</b> </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO! </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE
- MOUNTAINS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE
- NIGHT </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE
- FRONTIER </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE
- WIDOW </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0042"> AFTERWORD </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- THE TREASURE OF HIDDEN VALLEY
- </h1>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—AT THE PARTING OF THE WAYS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was a dear,
- crisp October morning. There was a shrill whistle of a locomotive, and
- then a westbound passenger train dashed into the depot of an Iowa town. A
- young man descended the car steps with an armful of luggage. He deposited
- his parcels on the platform, and half expectantly looked about him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then there was a “honk! honk!” from a huge automobile as
- it came to a palpitating halt, and a familiar voice called out: “Hello,
- Roderick, old man!” And a moment later Roderick Warfield was shaking
- hands with his boon friend of former college days, Whitley Adams. Both
- were in their early twenties, stalwart, well set up, clean-cut young
- fellows.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley’s face was all aglow in the happiness of reunion. But
- Roderick, after the first cordial greeting, wore a graver look. He
- listened quietly while his comrade rambled on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mighty glad to receive your wire last night at the club. But what
- brings you home so unexpectedly? We’ve been hearing all sorts of
- glowing stories—about your being in the thick of affairs in little
- old New York and rolling in the shekels to beat the band.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fairy tales,” was the laconic reply, accompanied by a look
- that was compounded of a sigh and a wistful smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How’s that?” asked young Adams, glancing up into the
- other’s face and for the first time noticing its serious expression.
- “Don’t tell me you’ve struck a financial snag thus early
- in your Stock Exchange career.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Several financial snags—and struck ‘em pretty badly
- too, I’m afraid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whew!” exclaimed Adams.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’m not down and out,” laughed Roderick, half
- amused at the look of utter discomfiture on his companion’s
- countenance. “Not by a long chalk! I’m in on several good
- deals, and six months from date will be standing on velvet. That is to
- say,” he added, somewhat dubiously, “if Uncle Allen opens up
- his money bags to tide me over meanwhile.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A pretty big ‘if,’ eh?” For the moment there was
- sympathetic sobriety in the youth’s tone, but he quickly regained
- his cheerfulness. “However, he’ll come through probably all
- right, Rod, dear boy. It’s the older fellows’ privilege, isn’t
- it? My good dad has had the same experience, as you will no doubt have
- guessed. There, let me see; how long have you been away? Eight months!
- Gee! However, I have just gotten home myself. My old man was a bit furious
- at my tardiness in coming and the geometrical increase of my expense
- account. To do Los Angeles and San Francisco thoroughly, you know, runs
- into a pot of money. But now everything is fixed up after a fashion with
- no evidence in sight of further squalls.” He laughed the laugh of an
- overgrown boy laboring under the delusion that because he has finished a
- collegiate course he is a “man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course,” he continued with a swagger, “we chaps who
- put in four long years at college should not be expected to settle down
- without having some sort of a valedictory fling.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There has not been much of a fling in my case,” protested
- Warfield. “I tackled life seriously in New York from the start.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But got a tumble all the same,” grinned Adams. “However,
- there’s no use in pulling a long face—at least not until your
- Uncle Allen has been interviewed and judiciously put through his paces.
- Come now, let us get your things aboard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The conversation was halted while the young owner of the big 60 H. P. car
- helped his chauffeur to stow away the luggage. “To the club,”
- he called out as he seated himself in the tonneau with his boyhood friend—college
- chum and classmate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not this morning!” exclaimed Roderick, shaking his head as he
- looked frankly and a bit nervously into the eyes of Whitley Adams. “No
- club for me until I have squared things up on the hill.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, well, just as you say; if it’s as bad as that, why of
- course—” He broke off and did not finish the sentence, but
- directed the chauffeur to the residence of Allen Miller, the banker.
- </p>
- <p>
- They rode a little way in silence and then Whitley Adams observed: “You’ve
- made a muddle of things, no doubt,” and he turned with a knowing
- look and a smile toward Roderick, who in turn flushed, as though hit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No doubt,” he concurred curtly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then when shall I see you?” asked Whitley as the auto slowed
- down at the approach to the stately Miller home.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll ‘phone you,” replied Roderick. “Think
- I can arrange to be at the club this evening.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said his friend, and a minute later he had
- whirled away leaving a cloud of dust in the trail of the machine.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick Warfield met with a motherly reception at the hands of his Aunt
- Lois, Mrs. Allen Miller. The greetings over and a score of solicitous
- questions by his Aunt Lois answered, he went to his room for a bath and a
- change of clothes. Then without further delay he presented himself at the
- bank, and in a few moments was closeted in the president’s private
- room with his uncle and guardian, Allen Miller.
- </p>
- <p>
- The first friendly greetings were soon followed by the banker skidding
- from social to business considerations. “Yes,” said Allen
- Miller, “I am glad to see you, Roderick, mighty glad. But what do
- you mean by writing a day ahead that a good big sum is required
- immediately, this without mention of securities or explanation of any
- kind?“ He held up in his hand a letter that ran to just a few
- niggardly lines. “This apology for a business communication only
- reached me by last night’s mail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The kindly look of greeting had changed to one that was fairly flinty in
- its hardness. “What am I to expect from such a demand? A bunch of
- unpaid accounts, I suppose.” As he uttered this last sentence, there
- was a wicked twang in his voice—a suggestion of the snarl of an
- angry wolf ready for a fierce encounter. It at least proved him a
- financier.
- </p>
- <p>
- A flush of resentment stole over Roderick’s brow. His look was more
- than half-defiant. On his side it showed at once that there would be no
- cringing for the favor he had come to ask.
- </p>
- <p>
- But he controlled himself, and spoke with perfect calm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My obligations are not necessarily disgraceful ones, as your manner
- and tone, Uncle, might imply. As for any detailed explanation by letter, I
- thought it best to come and put the whole business before you personally.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And the nature of the business?” asked the banker in a dry
- harsh voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am in a big deal and have to find my <i>pro rata</i> contribution
- immediately.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A speculative deal?” rasped the old man.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I suppose it would be called speculative, but it is gilt-edged
- all the same. I have all the papers here, and will show them to you.”
- He plunged a hand into the breast pocket of his coat and produced a neatly
- folded little bundle of documents.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stop,” exclaimed the banker. “You need not even undo
- that piece of tape until you have answered my questions. A speculative
- deal, you admit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Be it so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A mining deal, may I ask?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick’s face showed some confusion. But he faced the issue
- promptly and squarely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, sir, a mining deal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The banker’s eyes fairly glittered with steely wrathfulness.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As I expected. By gad, it seems to run in the blood! Did I not warn
- you, when you insisted on risking your meagre capital of two thousand
- dollars in New York instead of settling down with what would have been a
- comfortable nest egg here, that if you ever touched mining it would be
- your ruin? Did I not tell you your father’s story, how the lure of
- prospecting possessed him, how he could never throw it off, how it doomed
- him to a life of hardship and poverty, and how it would have left you, his
- child, a pauper but for an insurance policy which it was his one redeeming
- act of prudence in carrying?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Please do not speak like that of my father,” protested
- Roderick, drawing himself up with proud
- </p>
- <p>
- The banker’s manner softened; a kindlier glow came into his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, boy, you know I loved your father. If your father had only
- followed my path he would have shared my prosperity. But it was not to be.
- He lost all he ever made in mining, and now you are flinging the little
- provision his death secured for you into the same bottomless pool. And
- this despite all my warnings, despite my stern injunctions so long as it
- was my right as your guardian to enjoin. The whole thing disgusts me more
- than words can tell.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Into the banker’s voice the old bitterness, if not the anger, had
- returned. He rose and restlessly paced the room. A silence followed that
- was oppressive. Roderick Warfield’s mind was in the future; he was
- wondering what would happen should his uncle remain obdurate. The older
- man’s mind was in the past; he was recalling events of the long ago.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick Warfield’s father and Allen Miller had as young men braved
- perils together in an unsuccessful overland trip when the great California
- gold rush in the early fifties occurred. At that time they were only boys
- in their ‘teens. Years afterward they married sisters and settled
- down in their Iowa homes—or tried to settle down in Warfield’s
- case, for in his wanderings he had been smitten with the gold fever and he
- remained a mining nomad to the end of his days. Allen Miller had never
- been blessed with a child, and it was not until late in their married life
- that any addition came to the Warfield family. This was the beginning of
- Roderick Warfield’s career, but cost the mother’s life. Ten
- years later John Warfield died and his young son Roderick was given a home
- with Mr. and Mrs. Allen Miller, the banker accepting the guardianship of
- his old friend’s only child.
- </p>
- <p>
- The boy’s inheritance was limited to a few thousand dollars of life
- insurance, which in the hands of anyone but Allen Miller would have fallen
- far short of putting him through college. However, that was not only
- accomplished, but at the close of a fairly brilliant college career the
- young man had found himself possessed of a round couple of thousand
- dollars. Among his college friends had been the son of a well-to-do New
- York broker, and it was on this friend’s advice that Roderick had at
- the outset of his business life adventured the maelstrom of Gotham instead
- of accepting the placid backwaters of his Iowan home town. Hence the young
- man’s present difficulties and precarious future, and his uncle’s
- bitterness of spirit because all his past efforts on Roderick’s
- account had proved of such little avail.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last the banker resumed his chair. The tightly closed lips showed that
- his mind was made up to a definite line of action. Roderick awaited the
- decision in silence—it was not in his nature to plead a cause at the
- cost of losing his own self-respect He had already returned the unopened
- bundle of mining papers to the inner pocket of his coat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As for any advance to meet speculative mining commitments,”
- began the man of finance, “I do not even desire to know the amount
- you have had in mind. That is a proposition I cannot even entertain—on
- principle and for your own ultimate good, young man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I lose all the money I have put in to date.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Better a present loss than hopeless future entanglements. Your
- personal obligations? As you have been using all available funds for
- speculation, I presume you are not free from some debts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Less than a thousand dollars all told.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you have, I believe, $285.75 standing to your personal credit
- in this bank—the remnant of your patrimony.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I did not know I had so much,” remarked Roderick with a faint
- smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All the better, perhaps,” replied the banker, also smiling
- grimly. “The amount would have doubtless been swallowed up with the
- rest of your money. As matters stand, some payment can be made to account
- of your obligations and arrangements entered into for the gradual
- liquidation of the outstanding balance.” Young Warfield winced. The
- banker continued: “This may involve some personal humiliation for
- you. But again it is against my principles to pay any man’s debts.
- Anyone who deliberately incurs a liability should have the highly
- beneficial experience of earning the money to liquidate it I propose to
- give you the chance to do so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick raised his eyebrows in some surprise. “In New York?”
- he enquired.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir,” replied Allen Miller rather brusquely and evidently
- nettled at the very audacity of the question. “Not in New York, but
- right here—in Keokuk. Calm your impatience, please. Just listen to
- the proposals I have to make—they have been carefully thought out by
- me and by your Aunt Lois as well. In the first place, despite your rather
- reckless and improvident start in life, I am prepared to make you
- assistant cashier of this bank at a good salary.” Again Roderick
- evinced amazement. He was quite nonplussed at his uncle’s changed
- demeanor. The conciliatory manner and kindly tone disarmed him. But could
- he ever come to renounce his New York ambitions for humdrum existence in
- the old river town of Keokuk? He knew the answer in his heart. The thing
- was impossible.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And if you are diligent,” continued the banker, “prove
- capable and make good, you may expect in time to be rewarded with a
- liberal block of stock in the bank. Come now, what do you say to this part
- of my programme?” urged the speaker as Roderick hesitated.
- </p>
- <p>
- The young man’s mind was already made up. The offer was not even
- worth considering. And yet, he must not offend his guardian. It was true,
- Allen Miller’s guardianship days were past, but still in his rapid
- mental calculations Roderick thought of his stanch old stand-by, Uncle
- Allen Miller, as “Guardian.” He lighted a cigar to gain time
- for the framing of a diplomatic answer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said the banker, with a rising inflection, “does
- it require any time to consider the generous offer I make?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick pulled a long breath at his cigar and blew rings of smoke toward
- the ceiling, and said: “Your offer, Uncle, is princely, but I hardly
- feel that I should accept until I have thought it all over from different
- points of view and have the whole question of my future plans fully
- considered. What are the other items on your programme?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They should be rather counted as conditions,” replied the
- banker drily. “The conditions on which the offer I have just made
- are based.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And they are what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must quit speculation, give up all expensive habits, marry and
- settle down.” The words were spoken with all the definiteness of an
- ultimatum.
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Roderick winced. He might have been led to all or at least some of
- these things. But to be driven, and by such rough horse-breaking methods—.
- never! no, never. He managed to restrain himself, however, and replied
- quietly: “My dear uncle, the idea of marrying for some years yet, to
- tell you the truth, has never entered my head. Of course,” he went
- on lightly, “there is a young lady over at Galesburg, Stella Rain,
- where my Knox college days were spent, the ‘college widow,’ in
- a way a very lovely sort and in whom I have been rather interested for
- some two years, but—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That will do, young man,” interrupted Allen Miller, sharply
- and severely. “Never mind your society flyers—these lady
- friends of yours in Galesburg. Your Aunt Lois and myself have already
- selected your future wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He laughed hoarsely, and the laugh sounded brutal even to his own ears.
- Allen Miller realized uncomfortably that he had been premature and scored
- against himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, is that so?” ejaculated Roderick in delicate irony. A
- pink flush had stolen into his cheeks.
- </p>
- <p>
- The old banker hesitated in making reply. He grew hot and red and wondered
- if he had begun his match-making too abruptly—the very thing about
- which his good wife Lois had cautioned him. In truth, despite the harsh
- methods often imposed on him by his profession as a banker, a kinder heart
- than Allen Miller’s never beat. But in this new rôle he was out of
- his element and readily confused. Finally after clearing his throat
- several times, he replied: “Yes, Roderick, in a way, your Aunt Lois
- and I have picked out the girl we want you to marry. Her father’s
- wealth is equal to mine and some day perhaps—well, you can’t
- tell—I’ll not live always and, provided you don’t
- disobey me, you may inherit under my will a control of the stock of this
- banking house, and so be at the head of an important and growing financial
- institution.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick instead of being fifty-four and calculating, was only twenty-four
- and indifferent to wealth, and the red blood of his generous youth
- revolted at the mercenary methods suggested by his uncle regarding this
- unknown girl’s financial prospects. And then, too, the inducement
- thrown out that under conditions of obedience he might inherit the fortune
- of his uncle, was, he interpreted, nothing short of an attempt to bribe
- and deprive him of his liberty. He flushed with indignation and anger. Yet
- with a strong effort he still controlled his feelings, and presently
- asked: “Who is the fair lady?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The daughter of an old friend of mine. They live only a short
- distance down the river. Their home is at Quincy, Illinois. Mighty fine
- old family, I can tell you. Am sure you’ll like her immensely.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Am I to understand,” asked Roderick rather caustically,
- “that the young lady acquiesces and enters graciously into your
- plans?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I can’t say that!” replied Allen Miller, rubbing
- his chin. “But your Aunt Lois and I have talked over the possible
- alliance in all its lights.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “With the young lady’s family, I presume?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, not even that. But we are perfectly certain that we have only
- to speak the word to put the business through all right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Business!”—Roderick repeated the word with bitter
- emphasis.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, sir, business,” retorted Allen Miller, with some warmth.
- “To my mind matrimony is one of the most important deals in life—perhaps
- <i>the</i> most important.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If the money is right,” laughed the young man contemptuously.
- “But don’t you think that before another word is said about
- such a matter I should have the chance of seeing the young lady and the
- young lady a chance of seeing me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The humor of the situation had brought a pleasant smile to his face. The
- banker looked relieved.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait now, my boy,” he replied musingly. “Do you
- remember when you were a little chap, perhaps twelve or thirteen years
- old, going with your Aunt Lois and myself to St. Louis on the Diamond Joe
- boat line?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I remember it perfectly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, then,” continued Allen Miller, “you perhaps haven’t
- forgotten a lady and gentleman with a little tot of a girl only five or
- six years old, who joined us at Quincy. You engaged in a regular boyish
- love affair at first sight with that little girl. Well, she is the one—a
- mighty fine young lady now—just passed eighteen and her father is
- rated away up in the financial world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For the moment Roderick’s indignation over the cold-blooded,
- cut-and-dried, matrimonial proposition was arrested, and he did not even
- notice the renewed reference to finance. He had become pensive and
- retrospective.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How very long ago,” he mused more to himself than to his
- Uncle Allen—“How very long ago since that trip down the river.
- Yes, I remember well the little blue-eyed, black-curly-headed chick of a
- girl. It was my first steamboat ride and of course it was a holiday and a
- fairyland affair to my boyish fancy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He drew in a long breath and looked out through the window at the snow
- which was now falling, as if many chapters of the world’s history
- had been written in his own life since that far away yet well remembered
- trip. He fell silent for a spell.
- </p>
- <p>
- Allen Miller chuckled to himself. At last his scheme was working. All his
- life he had been a success with men and affairs, and his self-confidence
- was great. He rubbed his hands together and smiled, while he humored
- Roderick’s silence. He would tell his wife Lois of his progress.
- Presently he said: “She is an only child, Roderick, and I think her
- father could qualify for better than a quarter of a million.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This time the reiterated money recommendation jarred unpleasantly on
- Roderick’s nerves and revived his antagonism. He hastily arose from
- his chair and walked back and forth across the room. Presently he halted
- before his uncle and with forced deliberation—for his anger was
- keyed to a high tension—said: “I am pleased, Uncle, to know
- the young lady is not a party to this shameful piece of attempted barter
- and sale business. When I marry, if ever, it shall be someone as regards
- whom wealth will count as of least importance. True love loathes avarice
- and greed. I require no further time to consider your proposals. I flatly
- reject your offer of a position in the bank, and shall leave Keokuk
- tomorrow. I prefer hewing out my own destiny and while doing so retaining
- my freedom and my self-respect. This is my decision, and it is an
- irrevocable one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The ebullition of pent-up feelings had come so suddenly and unexpectedly
- that Allen Miller was momentarily overwhelmed. He had arisen and was
- noticeably agitated. His face was very white, and there was a look in his
- eyes that Roderick Warfield had never seen before.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Young man,” he said, and his voice was husky and trembling
- with suppressed rage—“you shall never have a dollar of my
- fortune unless you marry as I direct I will give you until tomorrow to
- agree to my plans. If you do not desire to accept my offer without change
- or modification in any shape, then take the balance of your money in the
- bank and go your way. I wash my hands of you and your affairs. Go and play
- football with the world or let the world play football with you, and see
- how it feels to be the ‘pigskin’ in life’s game.”
- </p>
- <p>
- With these words the old man swung a chair round to the fireplace, dropped
- into it, and began vigorously and viciously pounding at a lump of coal.
- There was an interval of silence. At last Roderick spoke; his voice was
- firm and low.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There will not be the slightest use, Uncle, in reopening this
- question tomorrow. My mind, as I have said, is already made up—unalterably.”
- The last word was uttered with an emphasis that rang finality.
- </p>
- <p>
- The banker flung down the poker, and rose to his feet. His look was
- equally determined, equally final, equally unalterable.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he snapped. “Then we’ll get through
- the banking business now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He touched a push-button by the side of the mantel. During the brief
- interval before a clerk responded to the summons, not another word was
- spoken.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bring me the exact figure of Mr. Warfield’s credit balance,”
- he said to his subordinate, “and cash for the amount. He will sign a
- check to close the account.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Five minutes later Roderick had the little wad of bills in his pocket, and
- was ready to depart Uncle and nephew were again alone.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is one other matter,” said the banker with cold
- formality. “There is a paper in my possession which was entrusted to
- my keeping by your father just before he died. I was to deliver it to you
- at my discretion after you had attained your majority, but in any case on
- your reaching the age of twenty-five. I will exercise my discretion, and
- hand over the paper to you now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He advanced to a safe that stood open at one side of the room, unlocked a
- little drawer, and returned to the fireplace with a long linen envelope in
- his hand. A big red splash of wax showed that it had been carefully
- sealed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is yours,” said the banker shortly, handing it over to
- the young man.
- </p>
- <p>
- The latter was greatly agitated. A message from his dead father! What
- could it mean? But he mastered his emotions and quietly bestowed the
- packet in his breast pocket—beside the papers connected with the
- mining deal.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll read this later,” he said. And then he extended
- his hand. There was yearning affection in his eyes, in the tremor of his
- voice: “Uncle, we surely will part as friends.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can regain my friendship only by doing my will. I have nothing
- more to say. Good-by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And without taking the proffered hand, Allen Miller turned away, leaning
- an elbow on the mantelshelf. His attitude showed that the interview was at
- an end.
- </p>
- <p>
- Without another word Roderick Warfield left the room. Outside the soft
- snow was falling in feathery silence. At a street corner the young man
- hesitated. He glanced up the road that led to his old home—Allen
- Miller’s stately mansion on the hill. Then he took the other
- turning.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess I’ll sleep at the Club to-night,” he murmured
- to himself. “I can bid Aunt Lois good-by in the morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—A MESSAGE FROM THE GRAVE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>LLEN MILLER, the
- rich banker, was alone—alone in the president’s room at his
- bank, and feeling alone in the fullest sense of the word now that Roderick
- Warfield had gone, the youth he had reared and loved and cherished as his
- own child, now turned out of doors by the old man’s deliberate act.
- </p>
- <p>
- For full an hour he walked slowly back and forth the whole length of the
- apartment But at last he halted once again before the open grate where
- some slumbering chunks of coal were burning indifferently. He pushed them
- together with the iron poker, and a bright blaze sprung up.
- </p>
- <p>
- Looking deep into the fire his thoughts went back to his boyhood days and
- he saw John Warfield, his chum of many years. He thought of their
- experience in the terrible massacre in the Sierra Madre Mountains in the
- region of Bridger Peak, of a lost trail, of hunger and thirst and weary
- tramps over mountain and down precipitous canyons, of abrupt gashes that
- cut the rocky gorges, of great bubbling springs and torrents of mountain
- streams, of a narrow valley between high mountains—a valley without
- a discoverable outlet—of a beautiful waterway that traversed this
- valley and lost itself in the sides of an abrupt mountain, and of the
- exhausting hardships in getting back to civilization.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then Allen Miller, the flint-hearted financier, the stoic, the man of
- taciturn habits, did a strange thing. Standing there before the blazing
- fire, leaning against the mantel, he put his handkerchief to his eyes and
- his frame was convulsed with a sob. Presently he turned away from the open
- grate and muttered aloud: “Yes, John Warfield, I loved you and I
- love your boy, Roderick. Some day he shall have all I’ve got. But he
- is self-willed—a regular outlaw—and I must wake him up to the
- demands of a bread-winner, put the bits into his mouth and make him
- bridle-wise. Gad! He’s a dynamo, but I love him;” and he half
- smiled, while his eyes were yet red and his voice husky.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah, John,” he mused as he looked again into the fire, “you
- might have been alive today to help me break this young colt to the
- plough, if you had only taken my advice and given up the search for that
- gold mine in the mountains. Thank God for the compact of secrecy between
- us—the secret shall die with me. The years, John, you spent in
- trying to re-dis-cover the vault of wealth—and what a will-o’-the-wisp
- it proved to be—and then the accident. But now I shall be firm—firm
- as a rock—and Roderick, the reckless would-be plunger, shall at last
- feel the iron hand of his old guardian beneath the silken glove of my
- foolish kindness. He’s got to be subdued and broken, even if I have
- to let him live on husks for a while. Firm, firm—that’s the
- only thing to be.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As he muttered the last words, Allen Miller shut his square jaws together
- with an ugly snap that plainly told the stern policy he had resolved on
- and would henceforth determinedly pursue. He put on his great fur-lined
- cloak, and silently went out into the evening shadows and thick maze of
- descending snow-flakes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile Roderick Warfield had reached his club, engaged a bedroom, and
- got a cheerful fire alight for companionship as well as comfort. He had
- telephoned to Whitley Adams to dine with him, but for two hours he would
- be by himself and undisturbed. He wanted a little time to think. And then
- there was the letter from his father. He had settled himself in an easy
- chair before the fire, the sealed envelope was in his hand, and the
- strange solemn feeling had descended upon him that he was going to hear
- his dead father speak to him again.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was in the silence that enveloped him the pulsing sensation of a
- mysterious presence. The ordeal now to be faced came as a climax to the
- stormy interview he had just passed through. He had reached a parting of
- the ways, and dimly realized that something was going to happen that would
- guide him as to the path he should follow. The letter seemed a message
- from another world. Unknown to himself the supreme moment that had now
- arrived was a moment of transfiguration—the youth became a man—old
- things passed away.
- </p>
- <p>
- With grave deliberation he broke the seal. Inside the folds of a long and
- closely written letter was a second cover with somewhat bulky contents.
- This he laid for the meantime on a little table by his side. Then he set
- himself to a perusal of the letter. It ran as follows:
- </p>
- <blockquote>
- <p>
- “My dear Son:—
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is for you to read when you have come to man’s estate—when
- you are no longer a thoughtless boy, but a thoughtful man. With this
- letter you will find your mother’s picture and a ring of pure gold
- which I placed upon her finger the day I married her—gold with a
- special sentiment attached to it, for I took it from the earth myself—also
- a few letters—love letters written by her to me and a tress of her
- hair. I am sure you will honor her memory by noble deeds. I loved her
- dearly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was younger at the time than you are now, Roderick, my son.
- Your Uncle Allen Miller—about my own age—and myself planned
- a trip to California. It was at the time of the great gold excitement in
- that far off land.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Overland Train of some two score of ox teams that we were
- with traveled but slowly; frequently not more than eight or ten miles a
- day. I remembered we had crossed the south fork of the Platte River and
- had traveled some two days on westward into the mountains and were near
- a place called Bridger Peak. It must have been about midnight when our
- camp was startled with the most terrific and unearthly yells ever heard
- by mortals. It was a band of murderous Indians, and in less time than it
- takes to describe the scene of devastation, all of our stock was
- stampeded; our wagons looted and then set on fire. Following this a
- general massacre began. Your Uncle Allen and myself, both of us mere
- boys in our ‘teens, alert and active, managed to make our escape
- in the darkness. Being fleet of foot we ran along the mountain side,
- following an opening but keeping close to a dense forest of pine trees.
- In this way we saved our lives. I afterwards learned that every other
- member of the party was killed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We were each equipped with two revolvers and a bowie knife and
- perhaps jointly had one hundred rounds of cartridges. A couple of pounds
- of jerked beef and a half a loaf of bread constituted our provisions.
- Fortunately, Allen Miller carried with him a flint and steel, so that we
- were enabled to sustain ourselves with cooked food of game we killed
- during the weary days that followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “With this letter I enclose a map, roughly drawn, but I am sure it
- will help you find the lost canyon where flows a beautiful stream of
- water, and where your Uncle Allen and myself discovered an amazing
- quantity of gold—placer gold. It is in a valley, and the sandbar
- of gold is about a mile up stream from where the torrent of rapid water
- loses itself at the lower end of the valley—seemingly flowing into
- the abrupt side of a mountain. At the place where we found the gold, I
- remember, there was a sandbar next to the mountain brook, then a gorge
- or pocket like an old channel of a creek bed, and it was here in this
- old sandbar of a channel that the nuggets of gold were found—so
- plentiful indeed, that notwithstanding we loaded ourselves with them to
- the limit of our strength, yet our ‘takings’ could scarcely
- be missed from this phenomenal sandbar of riches. We brought all we
- could possibly carry away with us in two bags which we made from extra
- clothing. Unfortunately we lost our way and could not find an opening
- from the valley, because the waters of the stream disappeared, as I have
- described, and we were compelled, after many unsuccessful attempts to
- find a water grade opening, to retrace our steps and climb out by the
- same precipitous trail that we had followed in going down into this
- strange valley.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We wandered in the mountains as far south as a place now known as
- Hahn’s Peak, and then eastward, circling in every direction for
- many miles in extent. After tramping in an unknown wilderness for
- forty-seven days we finally came to the hut of a mountaineer, and were
- overjoyed to learn it was on a branch of the Overland trail Not long
- after this we fell in with a returning caravan of ox team freighters and
- after many weeks of tedious travel arrived at St. Joseph, Mo., footsore
- and weary, but still in possession of our gold. A little later we
- reached our home near Keokuk, Iowa, and to our great joy learned that
- our treasure was worth many thousands of dollars. Your Uncle Allen
- Miller’s half was the beginning of his fortune. An oath of secrecy
- exists between your Uncle Allen Miller and myself that neither shall
- divulge during our lifetime that which I am now writing to you, but in
- thus communicating my story to you, my own flesh and blood, I do not
- feel that I am violating my promise, because the information will not
- come to you until years after my death.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Since your mother’s death, I have made seven trips into the
- Rocky Mountain region hunting most diligently for an odd-shaped valley
- where abrupt mountains wall it in, seemingly on every side, and where we
- found the fabulously rich sandbar of gold.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I have not succeeded in locating the exact place, not even
- finding the lost stream—or rather the spot where the waters
- disappeared out of sight at the base of a high mountain range. On my
- last trip, made less than one year ago, I met with a most serious
- accident that has permanently crippled me and will probably hasten my
- taking off. On the map I have made many notes while lying here ill and
- confined to my room, and they will give you my ideas of the location
- where the treasure may be found. To you, my beloved son, Roderick, I
- entrust this map. Study it well and if, as I believe, you have inherited
- my adventurous spirit, you will never rest until you find this lost
- valley and its treasure box of phenomenal wealth. In Rawlins, Wyoming,
- you will find an old frontiersman by the name of Jim Rankin. He has two
- cronies, or partners, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest. These three men
- rendered me great assistance. If you find the lost mine, reward them
- liberally.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have communicated to no one, not even your good Uncle Allen
- Miller, that I have decided on leaving this letter, and the information
- which it contains is for your eyes alone to peruse long after my mortal
- body has crumbled to dust In imparting this information I do so feeling
- sure that your Uncle Allen will never make any effort to relocate the
- treasure, so that it is quite right and proper the secret should descend
- to you.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My pen drags a little—I am weary and quite exhausted with
- the effort of writing. I now find myself wondering whether this legacy—a
- legacy telling you of a lost gold mine that may be found somewhere in
- the fastnesses of the mountains of Wyoming—will prove a blessing
- to you or a disquieting evil. I shall die hoping that it will prove to
- your good and that your efforts in seeking this lost mine will be
- rewarded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “With tenderest love and affection,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your father,
- </p>
- <p>
- “John Warfield.”
- </p>
- </blockquote>
- <p>
- When Roderick reached the end of the letter, he remained for a long time
- still holding it in his hands and gazing fixedly into the glowing embers.
- He was seeing visions—visions of a Wyoming gold mine that would
- bring him unbounded wealth. At last he broke from his reveries, and
- examined the other package. It was unsealed. The first paper to come forth
- proved to be the map to which his father had referred—it was a
- pencil drawing with numerous marginal notes that would require close
- examination. For the present he laid the document on the table. Then
- reverently and tenderly he examined the little bunch of love letters tied
- together by a ribbon, the tress of hair placed between two protecting
- pieces of cardboard, and the plain hoop of gold wrapped carefully in
- several folds of tissue paper. Lastly he gazed upon the photograph of his
- mother—the mother he had never seen, the mother who had given her
- life so that he might live. There were tears in his eyes as he gently
- kissed the sweet girlish countenance.
- </p>
- <p>
- With thought of her and memories of the old boyhood days again he fell
- into a musing mood. Time sped unnoticed, and it was only the chiming of a
- church clock outside that aroused him to the fact that the dinner hour had
- arrived and that Whitley Adams would be waiting for him downstairs. He
- carefully placed all the papers in a writing desk that stood in a corner
- of the room, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. Then he descended
- to meet his friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing doing, I can see,” exclaimed Whitley the moment he
- saw Roderick’s grave face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You’ve got it right,” he answered quietly. “The
- big ‘if’ you feared this morning turned out to be an
- uncompromising ‘no.’ Uncle Allen and I have said good-by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No wonder you are looking so glum.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not glum, old fellow. I never felt more tranquilly happy in my
- life. But naturally I may seem a bit serious. I have to cut out old things
- in my life, take up new lines.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose it’s back to New York for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. Everything goes by the board there. I have to cut my losses and
- quit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What a cruel sacrifice!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or what a happy release,” smiled Roderick. “There is
- something calling me elsewhere—a call I cannot resist—a call I
- believe that beckons me to success.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we won’t say anything about that at present I’ll
- write you later on when the outlook becomes clearer. Meanwhile we’ll
- dine, and I’m going to put up a little business proposition to you.
- I want you to buy my half share in the <i>Black Swan.</i>”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess that can be fixed up all right,” replied Whitley, as
- they moved toward the dining room. And, dull care laid aside, the two old
- college chums gave themselves up to a pleasant evening—the last they
- would spend together for many a long day, as both realized.
- </p>
- <p>
- By eleven o’clock next morning Roderick Warfield had adjusted his
- financial affairs. He had received cash for his half interest in the <i>Black
- Swan,</i> a river pleasure launch which he and Whitley Adams had owned in
- common for several years. He had written one letter, to New York
- surrendering his holding in the mining syndicate, and other letters to his
- three or four creditors enclosing bank drafts for one-half of his
- indebtedness and requesting six months’ time for the payment of the
- balance. With less than a hundred dollars left he was cheerfully prepared
- to face the world.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then had come the most painful episode of the whole visit—the
- parting from Aunt Lois, the woman of gentle ways and kindly heart who had
- always loved him like a mother, who loved him still, and who tearfully
- pleaded with him to submit even at this eleventh hour to his uncle’s
- will and come back to his room in the old home. But the adieus had been
- spoken, resolutely though tenderly, and now Whitley Adams in his big motor
- car had whisked Roderick and his belongings back to the railway depot.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had barely time to check his trunk to Burlington and swing onto the
- moving train. “So long,” he shouted to his friend. “Good
- luck,” responded Whitley as he waved farewell. And Roderick Warfield
- was being borne out into the big new world of venture and endeavor.
- </p>
- <p>
- Would he succeed in cuffing the ears of chance and conquer, or would
- heartless fate play football with him and make him indeed the “pig-skin”
- as his uncle had prophesied in the coming events of his destiny—a
- destiny that was carrying him away among strangers and to unfamiliar
- scenes? As the train rushed along his mind was full of his father’s
- letter and his blood tingled with excitement over the secret that had come
- to him from the darkness of the very grave. The primal man within him was
- crying out with mad impatience to be in the thick of the fierce struggle
- for the golden spoil.
- </p>
- <p>
- A witchery was thrumming in his heart—the witchery of the West; and
- instead of struggling against the impulse, he was actually encouraging it
- to lead him blindly on toward an unsolved mystery of the hills. He was
- lifted up into the heights, his soul filled with exalted thoughts and
- hopes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then came whisperings in a softer strain—gentle whisperings that
- brought with them memories of happy college days and the name of Stella
- Rain. It was perhaps nothing more nor less than the crude brutality with
- which his uncle had pressed his meretricious matrimonial scheme that
- caused Roderick now to think so longingly and so fondly of the charming
- little “college widow” who had been the object of his youthful
- aspirations.
- </p>
- <p>
- All at once he came to a resolution. Yes; he would spend at least one day
- on the old campus grounds at Knox College. The call of the hills was
- singing in his heart, the luring irresistible call. But before responding
- to it he would once again press the hand and peep into the eyes of Stella
- Rain.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—FINANCIAL WOLVES
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>N the very day
- following Roderick Warfield’s departure from Keokuk there appeared
- in one of the morning newspapers an item of intelligence that greatly
- surprised and shocked the banker, Allen Miller. It announced the death of
- the wife of his old friend General John Holden, of Quincy, Illinois, and
- with the ghoulish instincts of latter-day journalism laid bare a story of
- financial disaster that had, at least indirectly, led to the lady’s
- lamented demise. It set forth how some years before the General had
- invested practically the whole of his fortune in a western smelter
- company, how the minority stockholders had been frozen out by a gang of
- financial sharps in Pennsylvania, and how Mrs. Holden’s already
- enfeebled health had been unable to withstand the blow of swift and sudden
- family ruin. The General, however, was bearing his sad bereavement and his
- monetary losses with the courage and fortitude that had characterized his
- military career, and had announced his intention of retiring to a lonely
- spot among the mountains of Wyoming where his daughter, the beautiful and
- accomplished Gail Holden, owned a half section of land which had been
- gifted to her in early infancy by an unde, a prominent business man in San
- Francisco. Allen Miller was sincerely grieved over the misfortunes that
- had so cruelly smitten a life-long friend. But what momentarily stunned
- him was the thought that Gail Holden was the very girl designated, in mind
- at least, by himself and his wife as a desirable match for Roderick. And
- because the latter had not at once fallen in with these matrimonial plans,
- there had been the bitter quarrel, the stinging words of rebuke that could
- never be recalled, and the departure of the young man, as he had told his
- aunt, to places where they would never hear of him unless and until he had
- made his own fortune in the world.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the newspaper dropped from his hands, the old banker uttered a great
- groan—he had sacrificed the boy, whom in his heart he had cherished,
- and still cherished, as a son, for a visionary scheme that had already
- vanished into nothingness like a fragile iridescent soap-bubble. For
- obviously Gail Holden, her only possessions an impoverished father and a
- few acres of rocky soil, was no longer eligible as the bride of a future
- bank president and leader in the financial world. The one crumb of
- consolation for Allen Miller was that he had never mentioned her name to
- Roderick—that when the sponge of time came to efface the quarrel the
- whole incident could be consigned to oblivion without any humiliating
- admission on his side. For financial foresight was the very essence of his
- faith in himself, his hold over Roderick, and his reputation in the
- business world.
- </p>
- <p>
- The afternoon mail brought detailed news of General Holden’s
- speculative venture and downfall. Allen Miller’s correspondent was a
- lawyer friend in Quincy, who wrote in strict confidence but with a free
- and sharply pointed pen. It appeared that Holden’s initial
- investment had been on a sound basis. He had held bonds that were
- underlying securities on a big smelting plant in Wyoming, in the very
- district where his daughter’s patch of range lands was situated. It
- was during a visit to the little ranch that the general’s attention
- had been drawn to the great possibilities of a local smelter, and he had
- been the main one to finance the proposition and render the erection of
- the plant possible. At this stage a group of eastern capitalists had been
- attracted to the region, and there had come to be mooted a big
- consolidation of several companies, an electric lighting plant, an aerial
- tramway, a valuable producing copper mine and several other different
- concerns that were closely associated with the smelting enterprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the days that followed a Pennsylvanian financier with a lightning rod
- education, by the name of W. B. Grady had visited Holden at his Quincy
- home, partaken of his hospitality, and persuaded him to exchange his
- underlying bonds for stock in a re-organized and consolidated company.
- </p>
- <p>
- By reputation this man Grady was already well known to Allen Miller as one
- belonging to the new school of unscrupulous stock manipulators that has
- grown up, developed, flourished and waxed fat under the blighting
- influence and domination of the Well Known Oil crowd. This new school of
- financiers is composed of financial degenerates, where the words “honor,”
- “fair dealing” or the “square deal” have all been
- effectually expunged—marked off from their business vocabulary and
- by them regarded as obsolete terms. Grady was still a comparatively young
- man, of attractive manners and commanding presence, with the rapacity,
- however, of a wolf and the cunning of a fox. He stood fully six feet, and
- his hair, once black as a raven’s, was now streaked with premature
- gray which was in no way traceable to early piety. But to have mentioned
- his name even in a remote comparison to such a respectable bird as the
- raven rendered an apology due to the raven. It was more consistent with
- the eternal truth and fitness of things to substitute the term “vulture”—to
- designate him “a financial vulture,” that detestable bird of
- prey whose chief occupation is feasting on carrion and all things where
- the life has been squeezed out by the financial octopus, known as “the
- system.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It developed, according to Banker Miller’s correspondent, that no
- sooner had General Holden given up his underlying bonds of the smelter
- company and accepted stock, than foreclosure proceedings were instituted
- in the U. S. District Court, and the whole business closed out and sold
- and grabbed by Grady and a small coterie of financial pirates no better
- than himself. And all this was done many hundreds of miles away from the
- home of the unsuspecting old general, who until it was too late remained
- wholly ignorant and unadvised of the true character of the suave and
- pleasant appearing Mr. Grady whose promises were innumerable, yet whose
- every promise was based upon a despicable prevarication.
- </p>
- <p>
- And thus it was when the affairs of General Holden were fairly threshed
- out, that Allen Miller discovered his old friend had been the prey of a
- financial vampire, one skilled in sharp practice and whose artful cunning
- technically protected him from being arrested and convicted of looting the
- victim of his fortune. Holden had fallen into the hands of a highwayman as
- vicious as any stage robber that ever infested the highways of the
- frontier. The evidence of the fellow’s rascality was most apparent;
- indeed, he was in a way caught redhanded with the goods as surely as ever
- a sheep-killing dog was found with wool on its teeth.
- </p>
- <p>
- To the credit of Allen Miller, he never hesitated or wavered in his
- generosity to anyone he counted as a true and worthy friend. That very
- evening Mrs. Miller departed for Quincy, to offer in person more
- discreetly than a letter could offer any financial assistance that might
- be required to meet present emergencies, and at the same time convey
- sympathy to the husband and daughter in their sad bereavement.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lois, my dear,” the banker had said to his wife, “remain
- a few days with them if necessary. Make them comfortable, no matter what
- the expense. If they had means they wouldn’t need us, but now—well,
- no difference about the why and wherefore—you just go and comfort
- and help them materially and substantially.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was in such a deed as this that the true nobility of Allen Miller’s
- character shone forth like a star of the brightest magnitude—a star
- guaranteeing forgiveness of all his blunders and stupid attempts to curb
- the impulsive and proud spirit of Roderick War-field Yet sympathy for Gail
- and her father in no way condoned their poverty to his judgment as a man
- of finance or reinstated the girl as an eligible match for the young man.
- He would have been glad of tidings of Roderick—to have him home
- again and the offensive matrimonial condition he had attached to his offer
- of an appointment in the bank finally eliminated.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there was no news, and meanwhile his wife had returned from her
- mission, to report that the Holdens, while sincerely grateful, had
- declined all offers of assistance. As Mrs. Miller described, it was the
- girl herself who had declared, with the light of quiet self-reliance in
- her eyes, that by working the ranch in Wyoming as she proposed to work it
- there would be ample provision for her father’s little luxuries and
- her own simple needs.
- </p>
- <p>
- So Allen Miller put Gail Holden out of mind. But he had many secret
- heartaches over his rupture with Roderick, and every little stack of mail
- matter laid upon his desk was eagerly turned over in the hope that at last
- the wanderer’s whereabouts would be disclosed.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV.—THE COLLEGE WIDOW
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>TELLA RAIN
- belonged to one of the first families of Galesburg. Their beautiful home,
- an old style Southern mansion, painted white with green shutters, was just
- across from the college campus ground. It was the usual fate of seniors
- about to pass out of Knox College to be in love, avowedly or secretly,
- with this fair “college widow.” She was petite of form and
- face, and had a beautiful smile that radiated cheerfulness to the scores
- of college boys. There was a merry-come-on twinkle in her eyes that set
- the hearts of the young farmer lad students and the city chaps as well, in
- tumultuous riot. Beneath it all she was kind of heart, and it was this
- innate consideration for others that caused her to introduce all the new
- boys and the old ones too, as they came to college year after year, to
- Galesburg’s fairest girls. She was ready to fit in anywhere—a
- true “college widow” in the broadest sense of the term. Her
- parents were wealthy and she had no greater ambition than to be a queen
- among the college boys. Those who knew her best said that she would live
- and die a spinster because of her inability to select someone from among
- the hundreds of her admirers. Others said she had had a serious affair of
- the heart when quite young. But that was several years before Roderick
- Warfield had come upon the scene and been in due course smitten by her
- charms. How badly smitten he only now fully realized when, after nearly a
- year of absence, he found himself once again tête-à-tête with her in the
- old familiar drawing-room of her home.
- </p>
- <p>
- There had been an hour of pleasant desultory conversation, the exchange of
- reminiscences and of little sympathetic confidences, a subtly growing
- tension in the situation which she had somewhat abruptly broken by going
- to the piano and dashing off a brilliant Hungarian rhapsody.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so you are determined to go West?” she inquired as she
- rose to select from the cabinet another sheet of music.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’m going far West. I am
- going after a fortune.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How courageous you are,” she replied, glancing at him over
- her shoulder with merry, twinkling eyes, as if she were proud of his
- ambition.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stella,” said Roderick, as she returned to the piano, where
- he was now standing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes?” said she, looking up encouragingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why; you see, Stella—you don’t mind me telling you—well,
- Stella, if I find the lost gold mine—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you find what?” she exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I mean,” said Roderick in confusion, “I mean if I
- find a fortune. Don’t you know, if I get rich out in that western
- country—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And I hope and believe you will,” broke in Stella,
- vivaciously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—I say, if I do succeed, may I come back for you—yes,
- marry you, and will you go out there with me to live?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Roderick, are you jesting now? You are just one of these
- mischievous college boys trying to touch the heart of the little college
- widow.” She laughed gaily at him, as if full of disbelief.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” protested Roderick, “I am sincere.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Stella Rain looked at him a moment in admiration. He was tall and strong—a
- veritable athlete. His face was oval and yet there was a square-jawed
- effect in its moulding. His eyes were dark and luminous and frank, and
- wore a look of matureness, of determined purpose, she had never seen there
- before. Finally she asked: “Do you know, Roderick, how old I am?”
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick looked at her he saw there was plaintive regret in her dark
- sincere eyes. There was no merry-come-on in them now; at last she was
- serious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, no,” said Roderick, “I don’t know how old
- you are and I don’t care. I only know that you appeal to me more
- than any other woman I have ever met, and all the boys like, you, and I
- love you, and I want you for my wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down here by my side,” said Stella. “Let me talk to
- you in great frankness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick seated himself by her side and reaching over took one of her
- hands in his. He fondled it with appreciation—it was small, delicate
- and tapering.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick,” she said, “my heart was given to a college
- boy when I was only eighteen years old. He went away to his home in an
- eastern state, and then he forgot me and married the girl he had gone to
- school with as a little boy—during the red apple period of their
- lives. It pleased his family better and perhaps it was better; and it will
- not please your family, Roderick, if you marry me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My family be hanged,” said Roderick with emphasis. “I
- have just had a quarrel with my uncle, Allen Miller, and I am alone in the
- world. I have no family. If you become my wife, why, we’ll—.
- we’ll be a family to ourselves.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Stella smiled sadly and said: “You enthusiastic boy. How old are
- you, Roderick?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am twenty-four and getting older every day.” They both
- laughed and Stella sighed and said: “Oh, dear, how the years are
- running against us—I mean running against me. No, no,” she
- said, half to herself, “it never can be—it is impossible.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What,” said Roderick, rising to his feet, and at the same
- moment she also stood before him—“What’s impossible? Is
- it impossible for you to love me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, not that,” said Stella, and he noticed tears in her eyes.
- “No, Roderick,” and she stood before him holding both his
- hands in hers—“Listen,” she said, “listen!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am all attention,” said Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you how it will all end—we will never marry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I say we shall marry,” said Roderick. “If you
- will have me—if you love me—for I love you better than all
- else on earth.” He started to take her in his arms and she raised
- her hand remonstratingly, and said: “Wait! Here is what I mean,”
- and she looked up at him helplessly. “I mean,”—she was
- speaking slowly—“I mean that you believe today, this hour,
- this minute that you want me for your wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I certainly do,” insisted Roderick, emphatically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but wait—wait until I finish. I will promise to be your
- wife, Roderick—yes, I will promise—if you come for me I will
- marry you. But, oh, Roderick,”—and there were tears this time
- in her voice as well as in her eyes—“You will never come back—you
- will meet others not so old as I am, for I am very, very old, and tonight
- I feel that I would give worlds and worlds if they were mine to give, were
- I young once again. Of course, in your youthful generosity you don’t
- know what the disparagement of age means between husband and wife, when
- the husband is younger. A man may be a score of years older than a woman
- and all will be well—if they grow old together. It is God’s
- way. But if a woman is eight or ten years older than her husband, it is
- all different. No, Roderick, don’t take me in your arms, don’t
- even kiss me until I bid you good-by when you start for that gold’
- mine of yours”—and as she said this she tried to laugh in her
- old way.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You seem to think,” said Roderick in a half-vexed, determined
- tone, “that I don’t know my own mind—that I do not know
- my own heart. Why, do you know, Stella, I have never loved any other girl
- nor ever had even a love affair?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked at him quickly and said: “Roderick, that’s just the
- trouble—you do not know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you
- won’t know until the other girl comes along. And then, then,”
- she said wearily, “I shall be weighed in the balance and found
- wanting, because—oh, Roderick, I am so old, and I am so sorry—”
- and she turned away and hid her face in her hands. “I believe in you
- and I could love you with all my strength and soul. I am willing—listen
- Roderick,” she put up her hands protectingly, “don’t be
- impatient—I am willing to believe that you will be constant—that
- you will come back—I am willing to promise to be your wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You make me the happiest man in the world,” exclaimed
- Roderick, crushing her to him with a sense of possession.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But there is one promise I am going to ask you to make,” she
- said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, yes,” said he, “I will promise anything.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it is this: If the other girl should come along, don’t
- fail to follow the inclination of your heart, for I could not be your wife
- and believe that the image of another woman was kept sacredly hidden away
- in the deep recesses of your soul. Do you understand?” There was
- something in her words—something in the way she spoke them—something
- in the thought, that struck Roderick as love itself, and it pleased him,
- because love is unselfish. Then he remembered that as yet he was penniless—it
- stung him. However, the world was before him and he must carve out a
- future and a fortune. It might take years, and in the meantime what of
- Stella Rain, who was even now deploring her many years? She would be
- getting older, and her chances, perhaps, for finding a home and settling
- down with a husband would be less and less.
- </p>
- <p>
- But he knew there was no such thought of selfishness on her part—her
- very unselfishness appealed to him strongly and added a touch of chivalry
- to his determination.
- </p>
- <p>
- Stella Rain sank into a cushioned chair and rested her chin upon one hand
- while, reaching to the piano keys with the other, she thrummed them
- softly. Roderick walked back and forth slowly before her in deep
- meditation. At last he paused and said: “I love you, I will prove I
- am worthy. There is no time to lose. The hour grows late. I have but an
- hour to reach my hotel, get my luggage and go to the depot I am going West
- tonight I will come for you within one year, provided I make my fortune;
- and I firmly believe in my destiny. If not—if I do not come—I
- will release you from your betrothal, if it is your wish that I do so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Stella Rain laughed more naturally, and the old “come-on”
- twinkling was in her eyes again as she said: “Roderick, I don’t
- want to be released, because I love you very, very much. It is not that—it’s
- because—well, no difference—if you come, Roderick,” and
- she raised her hand to him from the piano—“if you come, and
- still want me to be your wife, I will go with you and live in the
- mountains or the remotest corner of the earth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He took her hand in both his own and kissed it tenderly. “Very well,
- Stella,—you make it plain to me. But you shall see—you shall
- see,” and he looked squarely into her beautiful eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” she said, rising to her feet, “we shall see,
- Roderick, we shall see. And do you know,” the twinkling was now gone
- from her eyes once more and she became serious again—“do you
- know, Roderick, it is the dearest hope of my life that you will come? But
- I shall love you just as much as I do now, Roderick, if for any cause—for
- whatever reason—you do not come. Do you understand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But,” interposed Roderick, “we are betrothed, are we
- not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked at him and said, smiling half sadly: “Surely, Roderick,
- we are betrothed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He put his big strong hands up to her cheeks, lifted her face to his and
- kissed her reverently. Then with a hasty good-by he turned and was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick hurried across the old campus he felt the elation of a
- gladiator. Of course, he would win in life’s battle, and would
- return for Stella Rain, the dearest girl in all the world. The stars were
- twinkling bright, the moon in the heavens was in the last quarter—bright
- moon and stars, fit companions for him in his all-conquering spirit of
- optimism.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V.—WESTWARD HO!
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S the train
- rumbled along carrying Roderick back to Burlington, he was lost in reverie
- and exultation. He was making plans for a mighty future, into which now a
- romance of love was interwoven as well as the romance of a mysterious gold
- mine awaiting rediscovery in some hidden valley among rugged mountains.
- Yes; he would lose no further time in starting out for Wyoming. The
- winning of the one treasure meant the winning of the other—the
- making of both his own. As he dreamed of wealth unbounded, there was
- always singing in his heart the name of Stella Rain.
- </p>
- <p>
- Next day he was aboard a westbound train, booked for Rawlins, Wyoming,
- where, as his father’s letter had directed, he was likely to find
- the old frontiersman, Jim Rankin; perhaps also the other “cronies”
- referred to by name, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest At Omaha a young westerner
- boarded the train, and took a seat in the Pullman car opposite to
- Roderick. In easy western style the two fell into conversation, and
- Roderick soon learned that the newcomer’s name was Grant Jones, that
- he was a newspaper man by calling and resided in Dillon, Wyoming, right in
- the midst of the rich copper mines.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are just over the mountain,” explained Jones, “from
- the town of Encampment, where the big smelter is located.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As the train sped along and they became better acquainted, Grant Jones
- pointed out to Roderick a dignified gentleman with glasses and a gray
- mustache occupying a seat well to the front of the car, and told him that
- this particular individual was no other than the “Boss of Montana”—Senator
- “Fence Everything” Greed. Jones laughed heartily at the name.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course, he is the U. S. Senator from Montana,” continued
- Jones, soberly, “and his name is F. E. Greed. His enemies out in
- Montana will be highly pleased at the new name I have given him—’Fence
- Everything,’ because he has fenced in over 150,000 acres of
- Government land, it is claimed, and run the actual home-settlers out of
- his fenced enclosures while his immense herds of cattle trampled under
- foot and ate up the poor evicted people’s crops. Oh, he’s some
- ‘boss,’ all right, all right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why,” exclaimed Roderick, “that’s lawlessness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones turned and looked at Roderick and said: “The rich are
- never lawless, especially United States Senators—not out in Montana.
- Why, bless your heart, they say the superintendent of his ranch is on the
- payroll down at Washington at $1800 a year.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Likewise the superintendent of the electric lighting plant which
- Senator Greed owns, as well as the superintendent of his big general
- store, are said to be on the government payroll.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It has also been charged that his son was on the public payroll
- while at college. Oh, no, it is not lawless; it is just a dignified form
- of graft. Of course,” Jones went on with arched eyebrows, “I
- remember one case where a homesteader shot one of the Senator’s
- fatted cattle—fine stock, blooded, you know. It was perhaps worth
- $100. Of course the man was arrested, had a ‘fair trial’ and
- is now doing time in the penitentiary. In the meantime, his wife and
- little children have been sent back East to her people. You see,”
- said Jones, smiling, “this small rancher, both poor in purse and
- without influence, was foolish enough to lose his temper because five or
- six hundred head of Senator Greed’s cattle were driven by his
- cowboys over the rancher’s land and the cattle incidentally, as they
- went along, ate up his crops. Little thing to get angry about, wasn’t
- it?” and Jones laughed sarcastically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, don’t the state conventions pass resolutions denouncing
- their U. S. Senator for such cold-blooded tyrannizing methods?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If the state of Montana,” replied Grant Jones, “should
- ever hold a state convention of its representative people—the bone
- and sinew of its sovereign citizens, why, they would not only retire
- Senator Greed to private life, but they would consign him to the warmer
- regions.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You surprise me,” replied Roderick. “I supposed that
- every state held conventions—delegates you know, from each county.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They think they do,” said Jones, winking one eye, “but
- they are only ratification meetings. The ‘Boss,’”he
- continued, nodding his head towards Senator Greed, “has his faithful
- lieutenants in each precinct of every county. His henchmen select the
- alleged delegates and when they all get together in a so-called state
- convention they are by pre-arrangement program men. The slate is fixed up
- by the ‘Boss’ and is duly ratified without a hitch. Therefore
- instead of being a convention representing the people it is a great big
- farce—a ratification picnic where ‘plums’ are dealt out
- and the ears of any who become fractious duly cuffed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At Grand Island in the afternoon, during a stop while engines were
- changed, Roderick left the train and stretched his legs by walking up and
- down the depot platform. Here he saw Grant Jones in a new rôle.
- Notwithstanding Jones was in rough western garb—khaki Norfolk coat,
- trousers to match, and leather leggings—yet he was the center of
- attraction for a bevy of young ladies. Two of these in particular were
- remarkable for their beauty; both had the same burnished golden hair and
- large brown eyes; they were almost identical in height and figure, petite
- and graceful, dressed alike, so that anyone at a first glance would have
- recognized them to be not only sisters but doubtless twins.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the train was about ready to start, these two girls bade adieu to
- their numerous friends and permitted Grant Jones with all the gallantry of
- a Beau Brummel to assist them onto the car.
- </p>
- <p>
- Later Grant Jones took great pains to assure Roderick that it was a
- pleasure to introduce him to the Misses Barbara and Dorothy Shields—“Two
- of our’ mountain wild flowers,” Grant said, laughing
- pleasantly, “who reside with their people way over south in the
- Wyoming hills, not far from Encampment, on one of the biggest cattle
- ranges in the state.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick, already captivated by the whole-souled, frank manner of Grant
- Jones, now found himself much interested in the beautiful twin sisters as
- well. Hour followed hour in bright and sprightly conversation, and soon
- the tenderfoot who had been inclined to condole with himself as a lonely
- stranger among strangers was feeling quite at home in the great western
- world of hospitable welcome and good comradeship.
- </p>
- <p>
- At an early hour next morning Grant Jones, the Shields girls and a dozen
- other people left the train at the little town of Walcott. They extended
- hearty invitations for Roderick to come over to southern Wyoming to see
- the country, its great mines and the big smelter. “If you pay us a
- visit,” said Grant Jones, laughing, “I’ll promise you a
- fine big personal in the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>, of which mighty organ
- of public opinion I have the honor to be editor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick, with a bow of due reverence for his editorial majesty and a
- bright smile for the sisters, promised that he likely would make the trip
- before very long. Then he swung himself onto the already moving train and
- continued his westward journey to Rawlins.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VI.—RODERICK MEETS JIM RANKIN
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was seven o’clock
- the same morning when Roderick left the train at Rawlins.
- </p>
- <p>
- The raw, cold wind was blowing a terrific gale, the streets were deserted
- save for a few half drunken stragglers who had been making a night of it,
- going the rounds of saloons and gambling dens.
- </p>
- <p>
- A bright-faced lad took charge of the mail bags, threw them into a push
- cart and started rumbling away up the street. Warfield followed and coming
- up with him inquired for a hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right over there is the Ferris House,” said the young fellow,
- nodding his head in the direction indicated.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick approached the hotel he met a grizzled keen-eyed frontiersman
- who saluted him with a friendly “Hello, partner, you be a stranger
- in these yere parts, I’m assoomin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I just arrived on this morning’s train.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Waal, my handle is Jim Rankin. Been prospectin’ the range
- hereabouts nigh thirty years; uster be sheriff of this yere county when
- people wuz hostile a plenty—have the best livery stable today in
- Wyomin’, and always glad to see strangers loiterin’ ‘round
- and help ‘em to git their bearin’s if I can be of service—you
- bet I am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus early had Roderick encountered his father’s old friend. He was
- delighted, but for the present kept his own counsel. A more fitting time
- and place must be found to tell the reason of his coming.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” he contented himself with saying as he accepted
- the frontiersman’s hand of welcome; “glad to meet you, Mr.
- Rankin.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, boy,” shouted the latter to an attache of the hotel,
- “take care of this yere baggage; it belongs to this yere gentleman,
- a dangnation good friend uv mine. He’ll be back soon fur breakfast.
- Come on, stranger, let’s go over to Wren’s. I’m as dry
- as a fish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick smiled and turning about, accompanied his new discovery down the
- street to Wren’s. As they walked along Rankin said: “Here’s
- my barn and here’s the alley. We’ll turn in here and get into
- Wren’s by the back door. I never pester the front door. Lots uv
- fellers git a heap careless with their artillery on front steps that are
- docile ‘nuff inside.” As they passed through a back gate, Jim
- Rankin, the typical old-time westerner, pushed his hat well back on his
- head, fished out of his pocket a pouch of “fine cut” tobacco,
- and stowing away a large wad in his mouth began masticating rapidly, like
- an automobile on the low gear. Between vigorous “chaws” he
- observed that the sun would be up in a “minute” and then the
- wind would go down. “Strange but true as gospel,” he chuckled—perhaps
- at his superior knowledge of the West—“when the sun comes up
- the wind goes down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He expectorated a huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at an old ash barrel,
- wiped his iron gray mustache with the back of his hand, pushed open the
- back door of the saloon and invited Roderick to enter.
- </p>
- <p>
- A fire was burning briskly in a round sheet iron stove, and a half dozen
- wooden-backed chairs were distributed about a round-topped table covered
- with a green cloth.
- </p>
- <p>
- Rankin touched a press button, and when a white-aproned waiter responded
- and stood with a silent look of inquiry on his face the frontiersman
- cleared his throat and said: “A dry Martini fur me; what pizen do
- you nominate, partner?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Same,” was Roderick’s rather abbreviated reply as he
- took in the surroundings with a furtive glance.
- </p>
- <p>
- As soon as the waiter retired to fill the orders, Roderick’s new
- found friend pulled a coal scuttle close to his chair to serve as a
- receptacle for his tobacco expectorations, and began: “You see,
- speakin’ wide open like, I know all these yere fellers—know
- ‘em like a book. Out at the bar in front is a lot uv booze-fightin’
- sheep herders makin’ things gay and genial, mixin’ up with a
- lot uv discharged railroad men. Been makin’ some big shipments uv
- sheep east, lately, and when they get tumultuous like with a whole night’s
- jag of red liquor under their belt, they forgit about the true artickle uv
- manhood and I cut ‘em out. Hope they’ll get away afore the
- cattle men come in from over north, otherwise there’ll be plenty uv
- ugly shootin’. Last year we made seven new graves back there,”
- and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “seven graves as a result
- uv a lot uv sheep herders and cow punchers tryin’ to do the perlite
- thing here at Wren’s parlors the same night They got to shootin’
- in a onrestrained fashion and a heap careless. You bet if I wuz sheriff uv
- this yere county agin I’d see to it that law and order had the long
- end uv the stick—though I must allow they did git hostile and hang
- Big Nose George when I wuz in office,” he added after a pause. Then
- he chuckled quietly to himself, for the moment lost in retrospection.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently the waiter brought in the drinks and when he retired Rankin got
- up very cautiously, tried the door to see if it was tightly shut. Coming
- back to the table and seating himself he lifted his glass, but before
- drinking said: “Say, pard, I don’t want to be too presumin’,
- but what’s your handle?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick felt that the proper moment had arrived, and went straight to his
- story.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My name is Roderick Warfield. I am the son of John Warfield with
- whom I believe you had some acquaintance a number of years ago. My father
- is dead, as you doubtless may have heard—died some fourteen years
- since. He left a letter for me which only recently came into my
- possession, and in the letter he spoke of three men—Jim Rankin, Tom
- Sun and Boney Earnest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick was speaking, the frontiersman reverently returned his
- cocktail to the table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Geewhillikins!” he exclaimed, “you the son uv John
- Warfield! Well, I’ll be jiggered. This just nachurly gits on my
- wind. Shake, young man.” And Jim Rankin gave Roderick’s hand
- the clinch of a vise; “I’m a mighty sight more than delighted
- to see you, and you can count on my advice and help, every day in the week
- and Sundays thrown in. As you’re a stranger in these parts, I’m
- assoomin’ you’ll need it a plenty, you bet. Gee, but I’m
- as glad to see you as I’d be to see a brother. Let’s drink to
- the memory uv your good father.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He again lifted his cocktail and Roderick joined him by picking up a side
- glass of water.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What?” asked Rankin, “not drinkin’ yer cocktail?
- What’s squirmin’ in yer vitals?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I drink nothing stronger than water,” replied Roderick,
- looking his father’s old friend squarely in the eyes. Thus early in
- their association he was glad to settle this issue once and for all time.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shake again,” said Rankin, after tossing off his drink at a
- single swallow and setting down his empty glass, “you sure ‘nuff
- are the son uv John Warfield. Wuz with him off and on fur many a year and
- he never drank spirits under no circumstances. You bet I wuz just nachurly
- so dangnation flabbergasted at meetin’ yer I got plumb locoed and
- sure did fergit. Boney and Tom and me often speak uv him to this day, and
- they’ll be dangnation glad to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you’re all three still in the ring?” queried
- Roderick with a smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bet yer life,” replied Rankin sturdily. “Why, Tom Sun
- and Boney Earnest and me have been chums fur nigh on to thirty years. They’re
- the best scouts that ever hunted in the hills. They’re the chaps who
- put up my name at the convenshun, got me nominated and then elected me
- sheriff of this yere county over twenty-five years ago. Gosh but I’m
- certainly glad to see yer and that’s my attitood.” He smiled
- broadly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Warfield,” he continued, “what yer out here fur?
- But first, hold on a minute afore yer prognosticate yer answer. Just shove
- that ‘tother cocktail over this way—dangnation afeerd you’ll
- spill it; no use letting it go to waste.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ve come,” replied Roderick, smiling and pushing the
- cocktail across to Jim Rankin, “to grow up with the country. A young
- fellow when he gets through college days has got to get out and do
- something, and some way I’ve drifted out to Wyoming to try and make
- a start. I have lots of good health, but precious little money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin drank the remaining cocktail, pulled his chair a little closer
- to Roderick’s and spoke in a stage whisper: “You know, I’m
- assoomin’, what yer father was huntin’ fur when he got hurt?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick flushed slightly and remained silent for a moment. Was it
- possible that his father’s old friend, Jim Rankin, knew of the lost
- mine? Finally he replied: “Well, yes, I know in a general way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don’t speak too dangnation loud,” enjoined Rankin.
- “Come on and we’ll hike out uv this and go into one uv the
- back stalls uv my livery stable. This’s no place to talk about sich
- things—even walls have ears.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As they went out again by the back door the morning sun was looking at
- them from the rim of the eastern hills. Side by side and in silence they
- walked along the alley to the street, then turned and went into a big
- barn-like building bearing a sign-board inscribed: “Rankin’s
- Livery, Feed and Sale Stable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Although there was not a soul in sight, Rankin led his new acquaintance
- far back to the rear of the building. As they passed, a dozen or more
- horses whinnied, impatient for their morning feed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Cautiously and without a word being spoken they went into an empty stall
- in a far corner, and there in a deep whisper, Rankin said: “I know
- the hull shootin’ match about that ‘ere lost gold mine, but
- Tom and Boney don’t—they’ve been peevish, good and
- plenty, two or three different times thinkin’ I know’d suthin’
- they didn’t. Not a blamed thing does anybody know but me, you bet I
- went with your father on three different trips, but we didn’t quite
- locate the place. I believe it’s on Jack Creek or Cow Creek—maybe
- furder over—don’t know which, somewhere this side or t’other
- side of Encampment River. You kin bet big money I kin help a heap—a
- mighty lot But say nothin’ to nobody—specially to these
- soopercilious high-steppin’ chaps ‘round here—not a
- dangnation word—keep it mum. This is a razzle-dazzle just ‘tween
- you an’ me, young man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A silence followed, and the two stood there looking at each other.
- Presently Roderick said: “I believe I’ll go over to the hotel
- and get some breakfast; this western air gives one a ravenous appetite.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then they both laughed a little as if anxious to relieve an embarrassing
- situation, and went out to the street together. Jim knew in his heart he
- had been outclassed; he had shown his whole hand, the other not one single
- card.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” Rankin finally said, as if an invitation had been
- extended to him. “All right, I’ll jist loiter along with yer
- over to’rd the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At another time,” observed Roderick, “we will talk
- further about my father’s errand into this western country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s the dope that sure ‘nuff suits me, Mr.
- War-field,” replied Rankin. “Whatever you say goes. Yer can
- unbosom yerself to me any time to the limit. I’ve got a dozen good
- mining deals to talk to you about; they’re dandies—a fortune
- in every one uv ‘em—’a bird in every shell,’ I
- might say,” and Rankin laughed heartily at his happy comparison.
- “Remember one thing, Warfield,”—he stopped and took hold
- of the lapel of Roderick’s coat, and again spoke in a whisper—“this
- yere town is full uv ‘hot air’ merchants. Don’t have
- nuthin’ to do with ‘em—stand pat with me and I’ll
- see by the great horn spoon the worst you get will be the best uv
- everythin’ we tackle. Well, so long until after breakfast; I’ll
- see you later.” And with this Rankin turned and walked briskly back
- to his stables, whistling a melody from the “Irish Washerwoman”
- as he went along.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arriving at his stables he lighted a fire in a drumshaped stove, threw his
- cud of tobacco away and said: “Hell, I wish this young Warfield had
- money. I’ve got a copper prospect within three mile uv this here
- town that’ll knock the spots out uv the Ferris-Haggerty mine all
- holler. Geewhillikins, it’ll jist nachur-ally make all the best
- mines in Wyomin’ look like small-sized Shetland ponies at a Perch’ron
- draft horse show. You bet that’s what I’ve got.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After feeding his horses he came back to the livery barn office, now quite
- warm and comfortable, pulled up an old broken backed chair, sat down and
- lit his pipe. After a few puffs he muttered half aloud: “Expect I’m
- the only man in Wyomin’ who remembers all the early hist’ry
- and traditions about that cussed lost mine. I’ve hunted the hills
- high and low, north, south, east and west, and dang my buttons if I can
- imagine where them blamed nuggets came from. And my failure used to make
- me at times a plenty hostile and peevish. John Warfield brought three of
- ‘em out with him on his last trip. He gave Tom one, Boney one and me
- one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Thrusting his hand into his pocket Rankin produced a native nugget of
- gold, worn smooth and shiny, and looked at it long in silent meditation.
- It was a fine specimen of almost pure gold, and was worth perhaps five and
- twenty dollars.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently the old frontiersman brought his fist down with a startling
- thump on his knee and said aloud: “I’ll be blankety-blanked if
- I don’t believe in that dangnation fairy story yet. You bet I do,
- and I’ll help John Warfield’s boy find it, by the great horn
- spoon I will, if it takes every horse in the stable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin relit his pipe, smoked vigorously and thought. The power of
- silence was strong upon him. The restless spirit of the fortune hunter was
- again surging in his blood and awaking slumbering half-forgotten hopes—yes,
- tugging at his heart-strings and calling to him to forsake all else and
- flee to the hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- Rankin was a character, a representative of the advance band of sturdy
- trail-blazers of the West—tender-hearted as a child, generous to a
- fault, ready to divide his last crust with a friend, yet quick to resent
- an injury, and stubborn as a bullock when roused to self-defense. There
- was nothing cunning about him, nothing of greed and avarice, no spirit of
- envy for the possession of things for the things’ sake. But for him
- there was real joy in the mad pursuit of things unattainable—a joy
- that enthralled and enthused him with the fervor of eternal youth. His was
- the simple life of the hills, loving his few chums and turning his back on
- all whom he disliked or mistrusted.
- </p>
- <p>
- Other men and greater men there may be, but it was men of Jim Rankin’s
- type that could build, and did build, monuments among the wild western
- waste of heat-blistered plains and gaunt rock-ribbed mountains, men who
- braved the wilderness and there laid the first foundation stones of a
- splendid civilization—splendid, yet even now only in its first
- beginnings, a civilization that means happy homes and smiling fields where
- before all was barrenness and desolation.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII—GETTING ACQUAINTED
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK spent a
- few days in Rawlins, improving his acquaintance with Jim Rankin and making
- a general survey of the situation. The ex-sheriff proved to be a veritable
- repository of local information, and Roderick soon knew a little about
- everyone and everything in the district. He learned that Tom Sun, one of
- his father’s old associates, had from small beginnings come to be
- the largest sheep owner in the state; he was rich and prosperous. With
- Boney Earnest, however, the other friend mentioned in the letter, the case
- was different. Boney had stuck for years to prospecting and desultory
- mining without achieving any substantial success, but had eventually
- become a blast furnace man in the big smelting plant at Encampment. There
- he had worked his way up to a foreman’s position, and with his
- practical knowledge of all the ores in the region was the real brains of
- the establishment, as Jim Rankin forcibly declared. He had a large family
- which absorbed all his earnings and always kept him on the ragged edge of
- necessity.
- </p>
- <p>
- Rankin himself was not too well fixed—just making a more or less
- precarious subsistence out of his stage line and livery stable business.
- But he had several big mining deals in hand or at least in prospect, one
- or other of which was “dead sure to turn up trumps some day.”
- The “some day” appeared to be indefinitely postponed, but
- meanwhile Jim had the happiness of living in the genial sunshiny
- atmosphere of hope. And the coming of Roderick had changed this mellowed
- sunshine into positive radiance, rekindling all the old fires of
- enthusiasm in the heart of the old-time prospector. With Roderick the
- first surge of eager impetuosity had now settled down into quiet
- determination. But old Jim Rankin’s blood was at fever-heat in his
- eagerness to find the hidden valley. When alone with Roderick he could
- talk of nothing else.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick, however, had shrewdly and cautiously summed up the measure of
- his usefulness. Jim Rankin had not the necessary capital to finance a
- systematic search among the mountain fastnesses where nature so jealously
- guarded her secret. Nor could he leave his horses and his livery business
- for any long period, however glibly he might talk about “going out
- and finding the blamed place.” As for any precise knowledge of where
- the quest should be commenced, he had none. He had shared in the frequent
- attempts and failures of Roderick’s father, and after a lapse of
- some fifteen or sixteen years had even a slimmer chance now than then of
- hitting the spot. So, all things duly considered, Roderick had adhered to
- his original resolution of playing a lone hand. Not even to Rankin did he
- show his father’s letter and map; their relations were simply an
- understanding that the old frontiersman would help Roderick out to the
- best of his power whenever opportunity offered and in all possible ways,
- and that for services rendered there would be liberal recompense should
- golden dreams come to be realized.
- </p>
- <p>
- Another reason weighed with Roderick in holding to a policy of reticence.
- Despite Jim’s own frequent cautions to “keep mum—say
- nothing to nobody,” he himself was not the best hand at keeping a
- secret, especially after a few cocktails had lubricated his natural
- loquacity. At such moments, under the mildly stimulating influence, Jim
- dearly loved to hint at mysterious knowledge locked up in his breast. And
- in a mining camp vague hints are liable to become finger posts and
- signboards—the very rocks and trees seem to be possessed of ears. So
- young Warfield was at least erring on the safe side in keeping his own
- counsel and giving no unnecessary confidences anywhere.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was nothing to be gained by remaining longer at Rawlins. Roderick’s
- slender finances rendered it imperative that he should find work of some
- kind—work that would enable him to save a sufficient stake for the
- prospecting venture, or give him the chance to search out the proper
- moneyed partner who would be ready to share in the undertaking. And since
- he had to work it would be well that his work should, if possible, be on
- the range, where while earning his maintenance and husbanding his
- resources, he could at the same time be spying out the land and gaining
- invaluable experience. So he had on several occasions discussed with Jim
- Rankin the chances of finding a temporary job on one of the big cattle
- ranches, and after one of these conversations had come his decision to
- move at once from Rawlins. His first “voyage of discovery”
- would be to Encampment, the busy smelter town. He remembered the cordial
- invitation extended to him by Grant Jones, the newspaper man, and felt
- sure he would run across him there. From the first he had felt strongly
- drawn to this buoyant young spirit of the West, and mingled with his
- desire for such comradeship was just a little longing, maybe, to glimpse
- again the fair smiling faces of the twin sisters—“mountain
- wild flowers” as Grant Jones had so happily described Barbara and
- Dorothy Shields.
- </p>
- <p>
- So one fine morning Roderick found himself seated beside Jim Rankin on the
- driver’s seat of an old-fashioned Concord stage coach. With a crack
- of Jim’s whip, the six frisky horses, as was their wont at the
- beginning of a journey, started off at a gallop down the street. Five or
- six passengers were stowed away in the coach. But these were nothing to
- Jim Rankin and Roderick Warfield. They could converse on their own affairs
- during the long day’s drive. The old frontiersman was, as usual, in
- talkative mood.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gunnies,” he exclaimed sotto-voce, as they wheeled along,
- “we’ll find that pesky lost gold mine, don’t you forget
- it. I know pretty dangnation near its location now. You bet I do and I’ll
- unbosom myself and take you to it—jist you and me. I’m thinkin’
- a heap these yere days, you bet I am.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Along in the afternoon they crossed over Jack Creek, an important stream
- of water flowing from the west into the North Platte River. Jim Rankin
- stopped the stage coach and pointed out to our hero the “deadline”
- between the cattle and sheep range. “All this yere territory,”
- said Jim, “lying north uv Jack Creek is nachure’s sheep
- pasture and all lyin’ south uv Jack is cattle range.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It’s well known,” he went on, “where them blamed
- pesky sheep feed and graze, by gunnies, vegetation don’t grow agin
- successful for several years. The sheep not only nachurlly eat the grass
- down to its roots, but their sharp hoofs cut the earth into fine pulp
- fields uv dust. Jack Creek is the dividin’ line—the ‘dead
- line.’.rdquo;
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean by the ‘dead line’.” asked
- Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The ‘dead line,’”replied old Jim as he clucked
- to his horses and swung his long whip at the off-leader—“the
- ‘dead line’ is where by the great horn spoon the sheep can’t
- go any furder south and the cattle darsn’t come any furder north, or
- when they do, Hell’s a-pop-pin.’.rdquo;
- </p>
- <p>
- “What happens?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What happens?” repeated the frontiersman as he expectorated a
- huge pit-tew of tobacco juice at a cactus that stood near the roadway.
- “Why, by gunnies, hundreds uv ondefensible sheep have been actooally
- clubbed to death in a single night by raidin’ cowboys and the
- sheep-herders shot to death while sleepin’ in their camp wagons: and
- their cookin’ outfit, which is usually in one end uv the wagon, as
- well as the camp wagons, burned to conceal evidence of these dastardly
- murders. Oh, they sure do make things gay and genial like.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Astonishing! The cowboys must be a pretty wicked lot,”
- interrogated Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it’s about six uv one and half a dozen uv the other.
- You see these pesky sheep herders and the cowboys are all torn off the
- same piece uv cloth. Many a range rider has been picked from his hoss by
- these sheep men hidden away in these here rocky cliffs which overlook the
- valley. They sure ‘nuff get tumultuous.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But what about the law?” inquired Roderick. “Does it
- afford no protection?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim laughed derisively, pushed his hat far back and replied: “Everybody
- that does any killin’ in these here parts sure does it in
- self-defense.” He chuckled at his superior knowledge of the West.
- “Leastways, that’s what the evidence brings out afore the
- courts. However, Tom Sun says the fussin’ is about over with. Last
- year more’n twenty cattle men were sentenced to the pen’tentiary
- up in the Big Horn country. Sort uv an offset fur about a score uv sheep
- men that’s been killed by the cow punchers while tendin’ their
- flocks on the range. You bet they’ve been mixin’ things up
- with artil’ry a heap.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I clearly perceive,” said Roderick, “that your
- sympathies are with the cattle men.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin turned quickly and with his piercing black eyes glared at
- Roderick as if he would rebuke him for his presumption.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Young man, don’t be assoomin’. I ain’t got no
- sympathy fur neither one uv ‘em. I don’t believe in murder and
- I don’t believe very much in the pen’tentiary. ‘Course
- when I was sheriff, I had to do some shootin’ but my shootin’
- wuz all within the law. No, I don’t care a cuss one way or ‘tother.
- There are lots uv good fellers ridin’ range. Expect yer will be
- ridin’ before long. Think I can help yer get a job on the Shields
- ranch; if I can’t Grant Jones can. And ther’s lots uv mighty
- good sheep-herders too. My old pal, Tom Sun, is the biggest sheep-man in
- this whole dang-nation country and he’s square, he is. So you see I
- ain’t got no preference, ‘tho’ I do say the hull kit and
- bilin’ uv ‘em could be improved. Yes, I’m nootral. Put
- that in yer pipe and smoke it, fur it goes dangnation long ways in this
- man’s country to be nootral, and don’t git to furgit’n
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was late in the afternoon when they neared the little town of
- Encampment. Old Jim Rankin began to cluck to his horses and swing his whip
- gently and finally more pronouncedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- If it is the invariable habit of stage drivers at the point of departure
- to start off their horses in a full swinging gallop, it is an equally
- inviolable rule, when they approach the point of arrival, that they come
- in with a whoop and a hooray. These laws are just as immutable as ringing
- the bell or blowing the locomotive whistle when leaving or nearing a
- station. So when Jim Rankin cracked his whip, all six horses leaned
- forward in their collars, wheeled up the main street in a swinging gallop,
- and stopped abruptly in front of the little hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick climbed down from the driver’s seat he was greeted with
- a hearty “Hello, Warfield, welcome to our city.” The speaker
- was none other than Grant Jones himself, for his newspaper instincts
- always brought him, when in town, to meet the stage.
- </p>
- <p>
- The two young men shook hands with all the cordiality of old friends.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you cannot get a room here at the hotel, you can bunk with me,”
- continued Grant. “I have a little shack down towards the smelter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick laughed and said: “Suppose, then, we don’t look for a
- room. I’ll be mighty pleased to carry my baggage to your shack now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, that’s a go,” said Grant; and together they
- started down the street.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones’ bachelor home consisted of a single room—a
- hastily improvised shack, as he had correctly called it, that had cost no
- very large sum to build. It was decorated with many trophies of college
- life and of the chase. Various college pennants were on the walls,
- innumerable pipes, some rusty antiquated firearms, besides a brace of
- pistols which Jim Rankin had given to Grant, supposed to be the identical
- flint-locks carried by Big Nose George, a desperado of the early days.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see,” explained Grant as he welcomed his guest, “this
- is my Encampment residence. I have another shack over at Dillon where I
- edit my paper, the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>. I spend part of my time in
- one place and part in the other. My business is in Dillon but social
- attractions—Dorothy Shields, you may have already guessed—are
- over this way.” And he blushed red as he laughingly made the
- confession.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And talking of the Shields, by the way,” resumed Grant.
- “I want to tell you I took the liberty of mentioning your name to
- the old man. He is badly in need of some more hands on the ranch—young
- fellows who can ride and are reliable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was all alert.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The very thing I’m looking for,” he said eagerly.
- “Would he give me a place, do you think?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m certain of it. In fact I promised to bring you over to
- the ranch as soon as you turned up at Encampment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mighty kind of you, old fellow,” remarked Roderick,
- gratefully and with growing familiarity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you can take that bed over there,” said the host.
- “This one is mine. You’ll excuse the humble stretchers, I
- know. Then after you have opened your grip and made yourself a little at
- home, we’ll take a stroll. I fancy that a good big porterhouse won’t
- come amiss after your long day’s drive. We’ve got some pretty
- good restaurants in the town. I suppose you’ve already discovered
- that a properly cooked juicy Wyoming steak is hard to beat, eh, you
- pampered New Yorker?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick laughed as he threw open his valise and arranged his brushes and
- other toilet appurtenances on the small table that stood at the head of
- the narrow iron stretcher.
- </p>
- <p>
- A little later, when night had fallen, the young men went out into the
- main street to dine and look over the town. It was right at the edge of
- the valley with mountains rising in a semi-circle to south and west, a
- typical mountain settlement.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see everything is wide open,” said Grant, as he escorted
- Roderick along the streets, arm linked in arm. For they had just
- discovered that they belonged to the same college fraternity—Kappa
- Gamma Delta, so the bonds of friendship had been drawn tighter still.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have a great town here,” observed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We have about 1200 to 1500 people and 18 saloons!” laughed
- the other. “And every saloon has a gambling lay-out—anything
- from roulette to stud-poker. Over yonder is Brig Young’s place. Here
- is Southpaw’s Bazaar. The Red Dog is a little farther along; the
- Golden Eagle is one of the largest gambling houses in the town. We’ll
- have our supper first, and then I’ll take you over to Brig Young’s
- and introduce you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As they turned across the street they met a man coming toward them. He was
- straight and tall, rather handsome, but a gray mustache made him seem
- older than his years.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, here is Mr. Grady. Mr. Grady, I want to introduce you to a
- newcomer. This is Mr. Roderick Warfield.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” said Grady in a smooth voice
- and with an oleaginous smile. To Roderick the face seemed a sinister one;
- instinctively he felt a dislike for the man.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your town is quite up-to-date, with all its brilliant electric
- lights,” he observed with a polite effort at conversation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Grady, “but it is the monthly pay roll of
- my big smelting company that supports the whole place.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a pomposity in the remark and the look that accompanied it which
- added to Roderick’s feelings of repulsion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I don’t know,” interposed Grant Jones, in a
- laughing way. “We have about five hundred prospectors up in the
- hills who may not yet be producers, but their monthly expenditures run up
- into pretty big figures.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course, that amounts to something; but think of my pay roll,”
- replied Grady, boastingly. “Almost a thousand men on my pay roll. We
- have the biggest copper mine in the Rocky Mountain region, Mr. War-field.
- Come down some day and see the smelter,” he added as he extended his
- hand in farewell greeting, with a leer rather than a smile on his face.
- “I’ll give you a pass.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” said Roderick coldly. And the two friends resumed
- their walk toward Brig Young’s saloon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t mind telling you,” remarked Grant, “that
- Grady is the most pompous, arrogant and all-round hated man in this mining
- camp.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He looks the part,” replied Roderick, and they both laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- A minute later they were seated in a cosy little restaurant. Ample justice
- was done to the succulent Wyoming porterhouse, and cigars were lighted
- over the cups of fragrant coffee that completed the meal. Then the young
- men resumed their peregrinations pursuant to the programme of visiting
- Brig Young’s place, certified by Grant Jones to be one of the sights
- of the town.
- </p>
- <p>
- The saloon proved to be an immense room with a bar in the corner near the
- entrance. Roulette tables, faro lay-outs and a dozen poker tables
- surrounded with feverish players were all running full blast, while half a
- hundred men were standing around waiting to take the place of any player
- who went broke or for any reason dropped out of the game.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess nearly all the gambling is done here, isn’t it?”
- asked Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not by a big sight. There are eighteen joints of this kind, and
- they are all running wide open and doing business all the time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When do they close?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They never close,” replied Grant. “Brig Young boasts
- that he threw the key away when this place opened, and the door has never
- been locked since.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As they spoke their attention was attracted to one corner of the gaming
- room. Seven players were grouped around a table, in the centre of which
- was stacked a pile of several thousand dollars in gold pieces. Grant and
- Roderick strolled over.
- </p>
- <p>
- A score of miners and cowboys were standing around watching the game. One
- of them said to Grant Jones: “It’s a jack pot and they’re
- dealing for openers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Finally someone opened the pot for $500. “It’s an all-fired
- juicy pot and I wouldn’t think of openin’ it for less.”
- Tom Lester was the player’s name, as Grant whispered to Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll stay,” said One-Eyed Joe.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So will I,” said another.
- </p>
- <p>
- The players were quickly assisted with cards—four refused to come
- in, and the other three, having thrown their discards into the deck, sat
- facing each other ready for the final struggle in determining the
- ownership of the big pot before them. It was a neck and neck proposition.
- First one would see and raise and then another would see and go better.
- Finally, the showdown came, and it created consternation when it was
- discovered that there were five aces in sight.
- </p>
- <p>
- Instantly Tom Lester jerked his Colt’s revolver from his belt and
- laid it carefully down on top of his three aces and said: “Steady,
- boys, don’t move a muscle or a hand until I talk.” The
- onlookers pushed back and quickly enlarged the circle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit perfectly still, gentlemen,” said Tom Lester, quietly and
- in a low tone of voice, with his cocked revolver in front of him. “I’m
- not makin’ any accusations or loud talk—I’m not accusin’
- anybody in particular of anything. Keep perfectly cool an’ hear a
- cool determined man talk. Far be it from me to accuse anyone of crooked
- dealin’ or holdin’ high cards up their sleeves.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As he spoke he looked at One-Eyed Joe who had both a reputation at card
- skin games and a record of several notches on his gun handle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I want to say,” Lester continued, “that I recognize in
- the game we’re playin’ every man is a perfect gentleman and it’s
- not Tom Lester who suspicions any impure motives or crooked work.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We will now order a new deck of cards,” said Tom while fire
- was flashing out of his steel gray eyes. “We will play this game to
- a finish, by God, and the honest winner will take the stakes. But I will
- say here and now so there may be no misunderstandin’ and without
- further notice, that if a fifth ace shows up again around this table, I’ll
- shoot his other eye out.” And he looked straight at One-Eyed Joe,
- who never quivered or moved a muscle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This ends my remarks concernin’ the rules. How d’ye
- like ‘em, Joe?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me?” said Joe, looking up in a surprised way with his one
- eye. “I’m ‘lowin’ you have made yer position plain—so
- dangnation plain that even a blind man kin see the pint.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The new deck was brought and the game went on in silence. After a few
- deals the pot was again opened, and was in due course won by a player who
- had taken no part in the previous mix-up, without a word falling from the
- lips of either Tom Lester or One-Eyed Joe.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick and Grant moved away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great guns,” exclaimed the former. “But that’s a
- rare glimpse of western life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, there are incidents like that every night,” replied
- Grant, “and shooting too at times. Have a drink?” he added as
- they approached the bar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I will have a great big lemonade.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” laughed Grant, “I’ll surprise both you and
- my stomach by taking the same.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As they sipped their drinks, Grant’s face became a little serious as
- he said: “I’m mighty glad you have come. You seem to be of my
- own kind. Lots of good boys out here, but they are a little rough and many
- of them are rather careless. Guess I am getting a little careless myself.
- There are just two men in these mountains who have a good influence over
- the boys. One is Major Buell Hampton. Everybody trusts him. By the way, I
- must introduce you to him. He is one of the grandest men I have ever met”
- As Grant said this he brought his fist down decisively on the bar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The other is the Reverend Stephen Grannon,” he went on,
- “the travelling horseback preacher—carries saddle bags, and
- all that. Why, do you know, the boys are so respectful to Reverend Grannon
- that they hire a man to go up and down the street ringing a bell, and they
- close up all their places for an hour every time he comes to town. He
- preaches mostly in the big tent you perhaps saw further up the street, at
- other times in the little church. The boys are mighty respectful to him,
- and all because they know he goes about doing good. If anyone falls ill,
- Reverend Grannon is the first to offer help. He visits the poor and cheers
- them with a spirit of hope. He never leaves town without going into every
- saloon and shaking hands with the barkeepers, giving them the same kind of
- advice but not in the same way—the same advice that we used to get
- when we stood around our mother’s knee before we had learned the
- sorrows of the big world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For a moment Grant was serious. Then looking up at Roderick, he laughed
- and said: “We all have to think of those old days once in a while,
- don’t we?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick nodded gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now I come to think of it,” said Grant, “the present
- moment’s a very good time. We’ll go down and call on one of
- Nature’s noblemen. He is somewhat of an enigma. You cannot tell how
- old he is by looking at him. He may have seen fifty years or a hundred and
- fifty—the Lord only knows, for nobody in this camp has any idea. But
- you will meet a magnificent character. Come along. I’m going to
- present you to my friend, Major Buell Hampton, about whom I’ve just
- been speaking. I guess we’ll catch him at home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII.—A PHILOSOPHER AMONG THE MOUNTAINS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>S THE two young
- men walked down the brilliantly lighted main street of Encampment, Grant
- Jones explained that the water had been dammed several miles up the south
- fork of the Encampment river and conducted in a California red-wood pipe
- down to the smelter plant for power purposes; and that the town of
- Encampment was lighted at a less cost per capita than any other town in
- the world. It simply cost nothing, so to speak.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant had pointed out several residences of local celebrities, but at last
- a familiar name drew Roderick’s special attention—the name of
- one of his father’s old friends.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is Boney Earnest’s home,” Grant was remarking.
- “He is the fellow who stands in front of the furnaces at the smelter
- in a sleeveless shirt and with a red bandana around his neck. They have a
- family of ten children, every one of them as bright as a new silver
- dollar. Oh, we have lots of children here and by the way a good public
- school. You see that log house just beyond? That is where Boney Earnest
- used to live when he first came into camp—before his brood was quite
- so numerous. It now belongs to Major Buell Hampton. It is not much to look
- at, but just wait until you get inside.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then this Major Hampton, I presume, has furnished it up in great
- shape?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, nothing but rough benches, a table, some chairs and a few
- shelves full of books. What I mean is that Major Hampton’s
- personality is there and that beats all the rich furniture and all the
- bric-à-brac on earth. As a college man you will appreciate him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Without ceremony Grant rapped vigorously at the door and received a loud
- response to “come in.” At the far end of a room that was
- perhaps 40 feet long by 20 feet in width was an open fireplace in which
- huge logs of wood were burning. Here Major Hampton was standing with his
- back to the fire and his hands crossed behind him.
- </p>
- <p>
- As his visitors entered, the Major said in courtly welcome: “Mr.
- Grant Jones, I am glad to see you.” And he advanced with hand
- extended.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major, let me introduce you to a newcomer, Roderick Warfield. We
- belong to the same ‘frat.’.rdquo;
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Warfield,” responded the Major, shaking the visitor’s
- hand, “I welcome you not only to the camp but to my humble dwelling.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He led them forward and provided chairs in front of the open fire. On the
- center table was a humidor filled with tobacco and beside it lay several
- pipes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Warfield,” observed the Major, speaking with a marked
- southern accent, “I am indeed pleased, suh, to meet anyone who is a
- friend of Mr. Jones. I have found him a most delightful companion and I
- hope you will make free to call on me often. Interested in mining, I
- presume?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” replied Roderick, “interested, yes, in a way.
- But tentative arrangements have been made for me to join the cowboy
- brigade. I am to ride the range if Mr. Shields is pleased with me, as our
- friend here seems to think he will be. He is looking for some more cowboys
- and my name has been mentioned to him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” concurred Grant, “Mr. Shields needs some more
- cowboys very badly, and as Warfield is accustomed to riding, I’m
- quite sure he’ll fill the bill.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Personally,” observed the Major, “I am very much
- interested in mining. It has a great charm for me. The taking out of
- wealth from the bosom of the earth—wealth that has never been
- tainted by commercialism—appeals to me very much.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I presume you are doing some mining yourself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” replied the Major. “If I had capital, doubtless I
- would be in the mining business. But my profession, if I may term it so,
- is that of a hunter. These hills and mountains are pretty full of game,
- and I manage to find two or three deer a week. My friend and next door
- neighbor, Mr. Boney Earnest, and his family consisting of a wife and ten
- children, have been very considerate of me and I have undertaken the
- responsibility of furnishing the meat for their table. Are you fond of
- venison, Mr. Warfield?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I must confess,” said Roderick, “I have never tasted
- venison.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Finest meat in the world,” responded the Major. “Of
- course,” he went on, “I aim to sell about one deer a week,
- which brings me a fair compensation. It enables me to buy tobacco and
- ammunition,” and he laughed good naturedly at his limited wants.
- </p>
- <p>
- “One would suppose,” interjected Grant Jones, “that the
- Boney Earnest family must be provided with phenomenal appetites if they
- eat the meat of two deer each week. But if you knew the Major’s
- practice of supplying not less than a dozen poor families with venison
- because they are needy, you would understand why he does not have a
- greater income from the sale of these antlered trophies of the hills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major waved the compliment aside and lit his pipe. As he threw his
- head well back after the pipe was going, Roderick was impressed that Major
- Buell Hampton most certainly was an exceptional specimen of manhood. He
- was over six feet tall, splendidly proportioned, and perhaps weighed
- considerably more than two hundred pounds.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were little things here and there that gave an insight into the
- character of the man. Hanging on the wall was a broad-brimmed slouch hat
- of the southern planter style. Around his neck the Major wore a heavy gold
- watch guard with many a link. To those who knew him best, as Roderick came
- subsequently to learn, this chain was symbolical of his endless kindnesses
- to the poor—notwithstanding his own poverty, of such as he had he
- freely gave; like the chain his charities seemed linked together without a
- beginning—without an end. His well-brushed shoes and puttees, his
- neatly arranged Windsor tie, denoted the old school of refinement and good
- breeding.
- </p>
- <p>
- His long dark hair and flowing mustaches were well streaked with gray. His
- forehead was knotted, his nose was large but well formed, while the
- tangled lines of his face were deep cut and noticeable. From under heavily
- thatched eyebrows the eyes beamed forth the rare tenderness and gentle
- consideration for others which his conversation suggested. Long before the
- evening’s visit was over, a conviction was fixed in Roderick’s
- heart that here indeed was a king among men—one on whom God had set
- His seal of greatness.
- </p>
- <p>
- In later days, when both had become well acquainted, Roderick sometimes
- discovered moments when this strange man was in deep meditation—when
- his eyes seemed resting far away on some mysterious past or inscrutable
- future. And Roderick would wonder whether it was a dark cloud of memory or
- anxiety for what was to come that obscured and momentarily dimmed the
- radiance of this great soul. It was in such moments that Major Buell
- Hampton became patriarchal in appearance; and an observer might well have
- exclaimed: “Here is one over whom a hundred winters or even
- countless centuries have blown their fiercest chilling winds.” But
- when Buell Hampton had turned again to things of the present, his face was
- lit up with his usual inspiring smile of preparedness to consider the
- simplest questions of the poorest among the poor of his acquaintances—a
- transfiguration indescribable, as if the magic work of some ancient
- alchemist had pushed the years away, transforming the centenarian into a
- comparatively young man who had seen, perhaps, not more than half a
- century. He was, indeed, changeable as a chameleon. But in all phases he
- looked, in the broadest sense of the word, the humanitarian.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the three men sat that night around the fire and gazed into the leaping
- flames and glowing embers, there had been a momentary lull in the
- conversation, broken at last by the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hope we shall become great friends, Mr. War-field,” he
- said. “But to be friends we must be acquainted, and in order to be
- really acquainted with a man I must know his views on politics, religion,
- social questions, and the economic problems of the age in which we live.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He waved his hand at the bookshelves well filled with volumes whose worn
- bindings showed that they were there for reading and not for show. Long
- rows of periodicals, even stacks of newspapers, indicated close attention
- to the current questions of the day.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rather a large order,” replied Roderick, smiling. “It
- would take a long time to test out a man in such a thorough way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major paid no heed to the comment. Still fixedly regarding the
- bookshelves, he continued: “You see my library, while not extensive,
- represents my possessions. Each day is a link in life’s chain, and I
- endeavor to keep pace with the latest thought and the latest steps in the
- world’s progress.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then he turned round suddenly and asked the direct question: “By the
- way, Mr. Warfield, are you a married man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick blushed the blush of a young bachelor and confessed that he was
- not.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whom God hath joined let no man put asunder,” laughed Grant
- Jones. “The good Lord has not joined me to anyone yet, but I am
- hoping He will.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Grant, you are a boy,” laughed the Major. “You always
- will be a boy. You are quick to discover the ridiculous; and yet,”
- went on the Major reflectively, “I have seen my friend Jones in
- serious mood at times. But I like him whether he is frivolous or serious.
- When you boys speak of marriage as something that is arranged by a Divine
- power, you are certainly laboring under one of the many delusions of this
- world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick remembered his compact with Stella Rain, the pretty little
- college widow. For a moment his mind was back at the campus grounds in old
- Galesburg. Presently he said: “I beg your pardon, Major, but would
- you mind giving me your ideas of an ideal marriage?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An ideal marriage,” repeated the Major, smiling, as he
- knocked the ashes from his meerschaum. “Well, an ideal marriage is a
- something the young girl dreams about, a something the engaged girl
- believes she has found, and a something the married woman knows never
- existed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked deep into the open grate as if re-reading a half forgotten
- chapter in his own life. Presently refilling and lighting his pipe he
- turned to Roderick and said: “When people enter into marriage—a
- purely civil institution—a man agrees to bring in the raw products—the
- meat, the flour, the corn, the fuel; and the woman agrees to manufacture
- the goods into usable condition. The husband agrees to provide a home—the
- wife agrees to take care of it and keep it habitable. In one respect
- marriage is slavery,” continued the Major, “slavery in the
- sense that each mutually sentences himself or herself to a life of
- servitude, each serving the other in, faithfully carrying out, when health
- permits, their contract or agreement of partnership. Therefore marriages
- are made on earth—not in heaven. There is nothing divine about them.
- They are, as I have said, purely a civil institution.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The speaker paused. His listeners, deeply interested, were reluctant by
- any interruption to break the flow of thought. They waited patiently, and
- presently the Major resumed: “Since the laws of all civilized
- nations recognize the validity of a partnership contract, they should also
- furnish an honorable method of nullifying and cancelling it when either
- party willfully breaks the marriage agreement of partnership by act of
- omission or commission. Individuals belonging to those isolated cases
- ‘Whom God hath joined’—if perchance there are any—of
- course have no objections to complying with the formalities of the
- institutions of marriage; they are really mated and so the divorce court
- has no terrors for them. It is only from among the great rank and file of
- the other class whom ‘God hath <i>not</i> joined’ that the
- unhappy victims are found hovering around the divorce courts, claiming
- that the partnership contract has been violated and broken and the erring
- one has proven a false and faithless partner.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In most instances, I believe, and it is the saddest part of it all,
- the complainant is usually justified. And it is certainly a most wise,
- necessary, and humane law that enables an injured wife or husband to
- terminate a distasteful or repulsive union. Only in this way can the
- standard of humanity be raised by peopling the earth with natural
- love-begotten children, free from the effects of unfavorable pre-natal
- influences which not infrequently warp and twist the unborn into embryonic
- imbeciles or moral perverts with degenerate tendencies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Society as well as posterity is indebted fully as much to the civil
- institution of divorce as it is to the civil institution of marriage. Oh,
- yes, I well know, pious-faced church folks walk about throughout the land
- with dubs to bludgeon those of my belief without going to the trouble of
- submitting these vital questions to an unprejudiced court of inquiry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major smiled, and said: “I see you young men are interested in
- my diatribe, or my sermon—call it which you will—so I’ll
- go on. Well, the churches that are nearest to the crudeness of antiquity,
- superstition, and ignorance are the ones most unyielding and denunciatory
- to the institution of divorce. The more progressive the church or the
- community and the more enlightened the human race becomes, the less
- objectionable and the more desirable is an adequate system of divorce laws—laws
- that enable an injured wife or husband to refuse to stultify their
- conscience and every instinct of decency by bringing children into the
- world that are not welcome. A womanly woman covets motherhood—desires
- children—love offerings with which to people the earth—babes
- that are not handicapped with parental hatreds, regrets, or disgust.
- Marriage is not a flippant holiday affair but a most serious one,
- freighted not alone with grave responsibilities to the mutual happiness of
- both parties to the civil contract, but doubly so to the offspring
- resultant from the union. But I guess that is about enough of my
- philosophy for one evening, isn’t it?” he concluded, with a
- little laugh that was not devoid of bitterness—it might have been
- the bitterness of personal reminiscence, or bitterness toward a blind and
- misguided world in general, or perhaps both combined.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones turning to Roderick said: “Well, what do you think of
- the Major’s theory?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I fear,” said Roderick in a serious tone, “that it is
- not a theory but an actual condition.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bravo,” said the Major as he arose from his chair and
- advanced to Roderick, extending his hand. “All truth,” said
- he, “in time will be uncovered, truth that today is hidden beneath
- the débris of formalities, ignorance, and superstition.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why, Major,” asked Grant, “are there so many
- divorces? Do not contracting parties know their own minds? Now it seems
- impossible to conceive of my ever wanting a divorce from a certain little
- lady I know,” he added with a pleasant laugh—the care-free,
- confiding laugh of a boy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear Jones,” said the Major, “the supposed reasons
- for divorce are legion—the actual reasons are perhaps few. However
- it is not for me to say that all the alleged reasons are not potent and
- sufficient. When we hear two people maligning each other in or out of the
- court we are prone to believe both are telling the truth. Truth is the
- underlying foundation of respect, respect begets friendship, and
- friendship sometimes is followed by the more tender passion we call love.
- A man meets a woman,” the Major went on, thoughtfully, “whom
- he knows is not what the world calls virtuous. He may fall in love with
- her and may marry her and be happy with her. But if a man loves a woman he
- believes to be virtuous and then finds she is not—it is secretly
- regarded by him as the unforgivable sin and is doubtless the unspoken and
- unwritten allegation in many a divorce paper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He mused for a moment, then went on: “Sometime there will be a
- single standard of morals for the sexes, but as yet we are not far enough
- away from the brutality of our ancestors. Yes, it is infinitely better,”
- he added, rising from his chair, “that a home should be broken into
- a thousand fragments through the kindly assistance of a divorce court
- rather than it should only exist as a family battle ground.” The
- tone of his voice showed that the talk was at an end, and he bade his
- visitors a courteous good-night, with the cordial addition: “Come
- again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was great,” remarked Roderick, as the young men wended
- their homeward way. “What a wealth of new thought a fellow can bring
- away from such a conversation!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just as I told you,” replied Grant “But the Major opens
- his inmost heart like that only to his chosen friends.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I’m mighty glad to be enrolled among the number,”
- said Roderick. “Makes a chap feel rather shy of matrimony though,
- doesn’t it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not on your life. True love can never change—can never wrong
- itself. When you feel that way toward a girl, Warfield, and know that the
- girl is of the same mind, go and get the license—no possible mistake
- can be made.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones was thinking of Dorothy Shields, and his face was aglow. To
- Roderick had come thought of Stella Rain, and he felt depressed. Was there
- no mistake in his love affair?—this was the uneasy question that was
- beginning to call for an answer. And yet he had never met a girl whom he
- would prefer to the dainty, sweet, unselfish, brave little “college
- widow” of Galesburg.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IX—THE HIDDEN VALLEY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ITHIN a few days
- of Roderick’s advent into the camp he was duly added to the cowboy
- list on the ranch of the wealthy cattleman, Mr. Shields, whose property
- was located a few miles east from the little mining town and near the
- banks of the Platte River. A commodious and handsome home stood apart from
- the cattle corral and bunk house lodgings for the cowboy helpers. There
- were perhaps twenty cowboys in Mr. Shields’ employment. His vast
- herds of cattle ranged in the adjoining hills and mountain canyons that
- rimmed the eastern edge of the valley.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones had proved his friendship in the strongest sort of an
- introduction, and was really responsible for Roderick securing a job so
- quickly. But it was not many days before Roderick discovered that Doro-try
- Shields was perhaps the principal reason why Grant rode over to the ranch
- so often, ostensibly to visit him.
- </p>
- <p>
- During the first month Roderick did not leave the ranch but daily
- familiarized himself with horse and saddle. He had always been a good
- rider, but here he learned the difference between a trained steed and an
- unbroken mustang. Many were his falls and many his bruises, but finally he
- came to be quite at home on the back of the fiercest bucking broncho.
- </p>
- <p>
- One Saturday evening he concluded to look up Grant Jones and perhaps have
- another evening with Major Buell Hampton. So he saddled a pony and
- started. But at the edge of town he met his friend riding toward the
- country. They drew rein, and Grant announced, as Roderick had already
- divined, that he was just starting for the Shields home. They finally
- agreed to call on Major Buell Hampton for half an hour and then ride out
- to the ranch together.
- </p>
- <p>
- As they approached Major Hampton’s place they found him mounting his
- horse, having made ready for the hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How is this, Major?” asked Grant Jones. “Is it not
- rather late in the afternoon for you to be starting away with your trusty
- rifle?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” replied the Major, after saluting his callers most
- cordially, “yes, it is late. But I know where there is a deer lick,
- and as I am liable to lose my reputation as a hunter if I do not bring in
- a couple more venisons before long, why I propose to be on the ground with
- the first streak of daylight tomorrow morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He glanced at the afternoon sun and said: “I think I can reach the
- deer lick soon after sun-down. I shall remain over night and be ready for
- the deer when they first begin stirring. They usually frequent the lick I
- intend visiting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major seemed impatient to be gone and soon his horse was cantering
- along carrying him into the hills, while Roderick and Grant were riding
- leisurely through the lowlands of the valley road toward the Shields
- ranch.
- </p>
- <p>
- All through the afternoon Buell Hampton skirted numerous rocky banks and
- crags and climbed far up into the mountain country, then down abrupt
- hill-sides only to mount again to still higher elevations. He was
- following a dim trail with which he showed himself familiar and that led
- several miles away to Spirit River Falls.
- </p>
- <p>
- Near these falls was the deer lick. For three consecutive trips the hunter
- had been unsuccessful. He had witnessed fully a dozen deer disappear along
- the trail that led down to the river’s bank, but none of them had
- returned. It was a mystery. He did not understand where the deer could
- have gone. There was no ford or riffle in the river and the waters were
- too deep to admit belief of the deer finding a crossing. He wondered what
- was the solution.
- </p>
- <p>
- This was the real reason why he had left home late that afternoon,
- determined, when night came on, to tether his horse in the woods far away
- from the deer lick, make camp and be ready the following morning for the
- first appearance of some fine buck as he came to slake his thirst. If he
- did not get that buck he would at least find the trail—indeed on the
- present occasion it was less the venison he was after than the solving of
- the mystery.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arriving at his destination, the improvised camp was leisurely made and
- his horse given a generous feed of oats. After this he lighted a fire, and
- soon a steaming cup of coffee helped him to relish the bread and cold meat
- with which he had come provided.
- </p>
- <p>
- After smoking several pipes of tobacco and building a big log fire for the
- night—for the season was far advanced and there was plenty of snow
- around—Buell Hampton lay down in his blankets and was soon fast
- asleep, indifferent to the blinking stars or to the rhythmic stirring of
- clashing leafless limbs fanned into motion by the night winds.
- </p>
- <p>
- With the first breaking of dawn the Major was stirring. After refreshing
- himself with hot coffee and glancing at the cartridges in his rifle, he
- stole silently along under the overhanging foliage toward the deer lick.
- </p>
- <p>
- The watcher had hardly taken a position near an old fallen tree when five
- deer came timidly along the trail, sniffing the air in a half suspicious
- fashion.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lifting his rifle to his shoulder the hunter took deliberate aim and
- fired. A young buck leaped high in the air, wheeled about from the trail
- and plunged madly toward his enemy. But it was the stimulated madness of
- death. The noble animal fell to its knees—then partially raised
- itself with one last mighty effort only to fall back again full length,
- vanquished in the uneven battle with man. The Major’s hunting knife
- quickly severed the jugular vein and the animal was thoroughly bled. A
- little later this first trophy of the chase had been dressed and gambreled
- with the dexterity of a stock yard butcher and hung high on the limb of a
- near by tree.
- </p>
- <p>
- The four remaining deer, when the Major fired, had rushed frantically down
- the trail bordered with dense underbrush and young trees that led over the
- brow of the embankment and on down to the river. The hunter now started in
- pursuit, following the trail to the water’s edge. But there were no
- deer to be seen.
- </p>
- <p>
- Looking closely he noted that the tracks turned directly to the left
- toward the waterfall.
- </p>
- <p>
- The bank was very abrupt, but by hugging it closely and stepping sometimes
- on stones in the water, while pushing the overhanging and tangled
- brushwood aside, he succeeded in making some headway. To his surprise the
- narrow trail gave evidence of much use, as the tracks were indeed
- numerous. But where, he asked himself, could it possibly lead? However, he
- was determined to persevere and solve the mystery of where the deer had
- gone and thus escaped him on the previous occasions.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently he had traversed the short distance to the great cataract
- tumbling over the shelf of rock almost two hundred feet above. Here he
- found himself under the drooping limbs of a mammoth tree that grew so
- close to the waterfall that the splashing spray enveloped him like a cold
- shower. Following on, to his astonishment he reached a point behind the
- waterfall where he discovered a large cavern with lofty arched roof, like
- an immense hall in some ancient ruined castle.
- </p>
- <p>
- While the light was imperfect yet the morning sun, which at that hour
- shone directly on the cascade, illuminated up the cavern sufficiently for
- the Major to see into it for quite a little distance. It seemed to recede
- directly into the mountain. The explorer cautiously advanced, and soon was
- interested at another discovery. A stream fully fifteen feet wide and
- perhaps two feet deep flowed directly out of the heart of the mountain
- along the center of the grotto, to mingle its waters with those of Spirit
- River at the falls.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton paused to consider this remarkable discovery. He now
- remembered that the volume of Spirit River had always impressed him as
- being larger below the noted Spirit River Falls than above, and here was
- the solution. The falls marked the junction of two bodies of water. Where
- this hidden river came from he had no idea. Apparently its source was some
- great spring situated far back in the mountain’s interior.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major was tensioned to a high key, and determined to investigate
- further. Making his way slowly and carefully along the low stone shelf
- above the river, he found that the light did not penetrate more than about
- three hundred feet. Looking closely he found there was an abundance of
- deer sign, which greatly mystified him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Retracing his steps to the waterfall, the Major once more crept along the
- path next to the abrupt river bank, and, climbing up the embankment,
- regained the deer trail where he had shot the young buck. He seated
- himself on an old fallen tree. Here on former occasions Major Hampton had
- waited many an hour for the coming of deer and indulged in day-dreaming
- how to relieve the ills of humanity, how to lighten the burdens of the
- poor and oppressed. Now, however, he was roused to action, and was no
- longer wrapped in the power of silence and the contemplation of abstract
- subjects. His brain and his heart were throbbing with the excitement of
- adventure and discovery.
- </p>
- <p>
- After full an hour’s thought his decision was reached and a course
- of action planned. First of all he proceeded to gather a supply of dry
- brush and branches, tying them into three torch-like bundles with stout
- cord, a supply of which he invariably carried in his pockets. Then he
- inspected his match box to make sure the matches were in good condition.
- Finally picking up his gun, pulling his hunting belt a little tighter,
- examining his hatchet and knife to see if they were safe in his belt
- scabbard, he again set forth along the deer trail, down to the river.
- Overcoming the same obstacles as before, he soon found himself in the
- grotto behind the waterfall.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lighting one of his torches the Major started on a tour of further
- discovery. His course again led him over the comparatively smooth ledge of
- rock that served as a low bank for the waters of the hidden stream. But
- now he was able to advance beyond the point previously gained. After a
- while his torch burned low and he lighted another. The subterranean
- passage he was traversing narrowed at times until there was scarcely more
- than room to walk along the brink of the noisy waters, and again it would
- widen out like some great colosseum. The walls and high ceilings were
- fantastically enchanting, while the light from his torch made strange
- shadows, played many tricks on his nerves, and startled him with optical
- illusions. Figures of stalactites and rows of basaltic columns reflected
- the flare of the brand held aloft, and sometimes the explorer fancied
- himself in a vault hung with tapestries of brilliant sparkling crystals.
- </p>
- <p>
- Finally the third and last torch was almost burned down to the hand hold
- and the Major began to awaken to a keen sense of his difficult position,
- and its possible dangers. When attempting to change the stub of burning
- brushwood from one hand to the other and at the same time not drop his
- rifle, the remnants of the torch fell from his grasp into the rapid
- flowing waters and he was left in utter darkness. Apprehension came upon
- him—an eerie feeling of helplessness. True, there was a box of
- matches in the pocket of his hunting coat, but these would afford but
- feeble guidance in a place where at any step there might be a pitfall.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton was a philosopher, but this was a new experience, startling
- and unique. Everything around was pitch dark. He seemed to be enveloped in
- a smothering black robe. Presently above the murmur and swish of running
- water he could hear his heart beating. He mentally figured that he must
- have reached a distance of not less than three miles from Spirit River
- Falls. The pathway had proved fairly smooth walking, but unknown dangers
- were ahead, while a return trip in Stygian darkness would be an ordeal
- fraught with much risk.
- </p>
- <p>
- Stooping over the low bank he thrust his hand into the current to make
- sure of its course. The water was only a little below the flat ledge of
- rock on which he was standing, and was cold as the waters of a mountain
- spring. It occurred to him that he had been thirsty for a long time
- although in his excitement he had not been conscious of this. So he lay
- down flat and thrust his face into the cool grateful water.
- </p>
- <p>
- Rising again to his feet he felt greatly refreshed, his nerve restored,
- and he had just about concluded to retrace his steps when his eyes, by
- this time somewhat accustomed to the darkness, discovered in an upstream
- direction, a tiny speck of light He blinked and then questioningly rubbed
- his eyes. But still the speck did not disappear. It seemed no larger than
- a silver half dollar. It might be a ray of light filtering through some
- crevice, indicating a tunnel perhaps that would afford means of escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- Using his gun as a staff wherewith to feel his way and keeping as far as
- possible from the water’s edge, Major Hampton moved slowly upstream
- toward the guiding spot of radiance. In a little while he became convinced
- it was the light of day shining in through an opening. The speck grew
- larger and larger as he slowly moved forward.
- </p>
- <p>
- Every once in a while he would stop and turn his face in the opposite
- direction, remaining in this position for a few moments and then quickly
- turning round again to satisfy himself that he was under no illusion. But
- the luminous disc was really growing larger—it appeared now to be as
- big as a saucer. His heart throbbed with hope and his judgment approved
- that the advance should be continued.
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, the light was increasing, and looking down he fancied he could almost
- see the butt of his gun which was being used as a walking stick. Presently
- his feet could indistinctly be seen, and then the rocky pavement over
- which he was so cautiously shuffling his way.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ten minutes later the mouth of a tunnel was reached, and he was safe once
- more, bathed in God’s own sunshine, his eyes still dazzled after the
- Cimmerian blackness from which he had emerged. He had traversed the entire
- length of the subterranean cave or river channel, and had reached the
- opposite side of a high mountain. Perhaps the distance through was only
- about three and a half miles. Trees and underbrush grew in profusion about
- the mouth of the tunnel into which the hidden river flowed. There was less
- snow than on the other side of the barrier. Deer sign were everywhere, and
- he followed a zig-zag deer path out into an open narrow valley.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major’s heart now leaped with the exultation of accomplishment.
- Brushing the light covering of snow away, he seated himself on the bank of
- the stream which could not, now that he looked upon it in the open day, be
- dignified by calling it a river. Along the edges of the watercourse were
- fringes of ice but in the center the rapid flow was unobstructed.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was only a big mountain brook, but one perhaps that had never been seen
- before by the eyes of man. The exploration and the excitement together had
- greatly fatigued Buell Hampton, and he was beginning to be conscious of
- physical exhaustion and the need of food notwithstanding the sustaining
- stimulus of being a discoverer in one of Nature’s jealously guarded
- wonderlands.
- </p>
- <p>
- After resting a short time he started to walk farther into the valley and
- forage along the stream. The hunter was on the lookout for grouse but
- succeeded in shooting only a young sage hen. This was quickly dressed and
- broiled, the forked stick that served as a spit being skilfully turned in
- the blaze of a fire of twigs and brushwood. The repast was a modest one,
- but the wayfarer felt greatly refreshed, and now stepped briskly on,
- following the water channel toward its fountain head.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was indeed a beautiful valley—an ideal one—very little snow
- and the deer so plentiful that at a distance they might be mistaken for
- flocks of grazing sheep. The valley appeared to be exceedingly fertile in
- season. It was a veritable park, and so far as the explorer could at
- present determine was completely surrounded by high snow-capped mountains
- which were steep enough to be called precipices. He soon came to a dyke
- that ran across the valley at right angles to the stream. It was of
- porphyry formation, rising to a height of from three to four feet, and
- reaching right across the narrow valley from foothill to foothill. When
- Major Hampton climbed upon this dyke he noticed that the swiftly flowing
- brook had cut an opening through it as evenly almost as if the work had
- been chiseled by man. He was anxious to know whether the valley would lead
- to an opening from among the mountains, and after a brief halt pushed
- hurriedly on.
- </p>
- <p>
- But an hour later he had retraced his steps and was again seated on the
- bench-like dyke of porphyry. He had made a complete circuit of this
- strange “nest” or gash in the vastness of the Rocky Mountain
- Range and was convinced there was no opening. The brook had its rise in a
- number of mammoth springs high up on the mountain foothills at the upper
- end of the valley, where it was also fed by several waterfalls that
- dropped from the dizzy cliffs far above.
- </p>
- <p>
- The valley was perhaps three miles long east and west and not over
- one-half mile wide north and south. The contour of the mountain sides to
- the south conformed to the contour on the north, justifying the reasonable
- conjecture that an earthquake or violent volcanic upheaval must have tom
- the mountains apart in prehistoric times. It was evidently in all truth a
- hidden valley—not on the map of the U. S. Survey—a veritable
- new land.
- </p>
- <p>
- “To think,” mused the Major, aloud, “that I have
- discovered a new possession. What an asylum for the weary! Surely the day
- has been full of startling surprises.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was seated on the dyke almost at the very edge of the brock where the
- waters were singing their song of peaceful content. He let his glance
- again sweep the valley with the satisfied look of one conscious of some
- unanalyzed good fortune.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was no snow on the porphyry dyke where he rested. It was
- moss-covered in many places with the coating of countless centuries. Most
- likely no human foot but his had ever pressed the sod of this sequestered
- nook among the mighty mountains. The very thought was uplifting—inspiring.
- Pulling his hunter’s hatchet from its sheath he said aloud: “I
- christen thee ‘Hidden Valley,’”and struck the porphyry
- rock a vigorous blow, so vigorous indeed that it chipped off a goodly
- piece.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Buell Hampton paused, astonished. He looked and then he looked
- again. He picked up the chipped off piece of rock and gazed long and
- earnestly at it, then rubbed his eyes in amazement. It was literally
- gleaming with pure gold.
- </p>
- <p>
- Immediately the hatchet again came into play. Piece after piece was broken
- open and all proved to be alike—rich specimens fit for the cabinet
- of a collector. The drab moss-covered dyke really contained the wealth of
- a King Solomon’s mine. It was true—true, though almost
- unbelievable. Yet in this moment of overwhelming triumph Buell Hampton saw
- not with the eyes of avarice and greed for personal gain, but rather with
- the vision of the humanitarian. Unlimited wealth had always been for him a
- ravishing dream, but he had longed for it, passionately, yearningly, not
- as a means to supply pleasures for himself but to assuage the miseries of
- a suffering world.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was not skilled in judging rock carrying values of precious metals, but
- in this instance the merest novice could hardly be mistaken. Hastily
- breaking as much of the golden ore as he could carry in his huge coat
- pockets and taking one last sweeping survey over the valley, the Major
- started on his return trip to Spirit River Falls. Arriving at the point
- where the waters of the brook disappeared in the natural tunnel of the
- “Hidden River,” the name he mentally gave to the romantic
- stream, he gathered some torch material and then started on the return
- trip. Two hours later he emerged from behind the turbulent waters at
- Spirit River Falls. In the waning afternoon he regained his camp. After
- watering his patient horse, giving it another feed of oats and apologizing
- with many a gentle caressing pat for his long absence and seeming neglect,
- the Major set out for home, the dressed deer strapped on behind his
- saddle, with the deer skin rolled around the venison as a protection.
- </p>
- <p>
- Early the following morning Buell Hampton visited an assay office,
- carrying with him an ore sack containing nine pounds and a half of ore.
- The Major felt certain it was ore—gold ore, almost pure gold—but
- was almost afraid of his own convictions. The discovery was really too
- good to be true.
- </p>
- <p>
- The assayer tossed the sack of gold onto a table where other samples were
- awaiting his skill and said: “All right, Major, come in sometime
- tomorrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It’s important,” replied the Major, “that you
- assay it at once. It is high grade; I wish to sell.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, ho!” replied the assayer with elevated eyebrows. Possibly
- he was like many another who encouraged the “high-graders” in
- their nefarious thefts from their employers when they were trusted to work
- on a rich property.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, Major Hampton, I didn’t know you were one of ‘em—one
- of us,” and he finished with a leer and a laugh. “Bet I can
- tell what mine it came from,” he went on as he leisurely untied the
- ore sacks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will remain right here,” replied Major Hampton firmly,
- without yielding to the assayer’s offensive hilarity, “until
- you have my samples assayed and make me an offer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- By this time the sack of rock had been emptied into an ore pan and the
- astonishment depicted on the assayer’s countenance would have
- beggared description. The sight of the ore staggered him into silence.
- Other work was pushed hurriedly aside and before very long the fire test
- was in process of being made. When finally finished the “button”
- weighed at the rate of $114.67 per pound, and the assayer, still half
- bewildered, handed over a check for almost eleven hundred dollars.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I say,” he almost shouted, “I say, Major Hampton, where
- in hell did that ore come from? Surely not from any of the producing mines
- about here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It seems to be a producer, all right,” replied the Major, as
- he folded the check and placed it in his pocketbook.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER X.—THE FAIR RIDER OF THE RANGE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Buell Hampton
- left the assayer’s office he felt a chilliness in the air that
- caused him to cast his eyes upwards. There had been bright sunshine early
- that morning, but now the whole sky was overcast with a dull monotonous
- gray pall. Not a breath of wind was stirring; there was just a cold
- stillness in the air that told its own tale to those experienced in the
- weather signs of the mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Snow,” muttered the Major, emphatically. “It has been
- long in coming this winter, but we’ll have a big fall by night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The season indeed had been exceptionally mild. There had been one or two
- flurries of snow, but each had been followed by warm days and the light
- fall had speedily melted, at least in the open valley. High up, the
- mountains had their white garb of winter, but even at these elevations
- there had been no violent storms.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton, however, realized that the lingering autumn was now gone,
- and that soon the whole region would be in the rigorous grip of the Snow
- King. Henceforth for some months to come would be chill winds, protracted
- and frequently recurring downfalls of snow, great high-banked snowdrifts
- in the canyons, and later on the mighty snowslides that sheared
- timber-clad mountain slopes as if with a giant’s knife and
- occasionally brought death and destruction to some remote mining camp. For
- the present the Major’s hunting expeditions were at an end. But as
- he glanced at the heavy canopy of snow-laden cloud he also knew that days
- must elapse, weeks perhaps, before he could revisit the hidden valley high
- up in the mountains. For yet another winter tide Nature would hold her
- treasure safe from despoiling hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton faced the situation with characteristic philosophy. All
- through the afternoon he mused on his good fortune. He was glad to have
- brought down even only a thousand dollars from the golden storehouse, for
- this money would ensure comfort during the inclement season for a good few
- humble homes. Meanwhile, like a banker with reserves of bullion safely
- locked up in his vault, he could plan out the future and see how the
- treasure was to be placed to best advantage. In Buell Hampton’s case
- the field of investment was among the poor and struggling, and the only
- dividends he cared for were increased percentages of human happiness. The
- coming of winter only delayed the good work he had in mind, but even now
- the consciousness of power to perform brought great joy to his heart.
- Alone in his home he paced the big room, only pausing at times to throw
- another log on the fire or gaze awhile into the glowing embers,
- day-dreaming, unspeakably happy in his day-dreams.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile, in anticipation of the coming snowstorm, young Warfield was
- riding the range and gathering cattle and yearlings that had strayed away
- from the herd. As he was surmounting a rather steep foothill across the
- valleys to the westward between the two Encampment rivers, he was startled
- at hearing the patter of a horse’s hoofs. Quickly looking up he saw
- a young woman on horseback dashing swiftly along and swinging a lariat.
- She wore a divided brown skirt, wide sombrero, fringed gauntlets, and sat
- her horse with graceful ease and confidence. She was coming down the
- mountainside at right angles to his course.
- </p>
- <p>
- Bringing his pony quickly to a standstill Roderick watched the spirited
- horse-woman as she let go her lariat at an escaping yearling that
- evidently had broken out of some corral The lariat went straight to its
- mark, and almost at the same moment he heard her voice as she spoke to her
- steed, quickly but in soft melodious tones: “That will do,
- Fleetfoot. Whoa!” Instantly the well-trained horse threw himself
- well back on his haunches and veered to the left. The fleeing yearling was
- caught around one of its front feet and thrown as neatly as the most
- expert cowboy on the range could have done it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By George,” said Roderick to himself, “what a fine
- piece of work.” He watched with admiring eyes as the young lady sat
- her horse in an attitude of waiting. Presently a cowboy rode up, and
- relieving her of the catch started the yearling back, evidently toward the
- corral. Turning about, the horsewoman started her horse at a canter
- directly toward him, and Roderick fell to wondering what sort of a
- discovery he had made.
- </p>
- <p>
- A moment later she brought her horse to a standstill and acknowledged his
- salutation as he lifted his sombrero. He saw the red blood glowing under
- the soft tan of her cheeks, and as their eyes met he was fairly dazzled by
- her beauty. He recognized at a glance the western type of girl, frank and
- fearless, accustomed to the full and health-giving freedom of life in the
- open, yet accomplished and domesticated, equally at home in the most
- tastefully adorned drawing room as here on horseback among the mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I beg pardon,” he said in a stammering way, “but can I
- be of any service?”
- </p>
- <p>
- At his words she pulled her pony to a standstill and said: “In what
- way, pray?”—and there was a mischievous smile at Roderick’s
- obvious embarrassment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, I saw you lariating a yearling.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” she said, throwing back her head and laughing softly,
- “that was a long time ago. It is doubtless in the corral by now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As she spoke, Roderick dismounted. He was capable now of assimilating
- details, and noted the silken dark Egyptian locks that fell in fluffy
- waves over her temples in a most bewitching manner, and the eyes that
- shone with the deep dark blue of the sapphire. His gaze must have betrayed
- his admiration, for, courteously waving her hand, she touched with her
- spurs the flanks of her mount and bounded away across the hills. Roderick
- was left standing in wonderment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who the dickens can she be?” he soliloquized. “I’ve
- been riding the range for a good many weeks, but this is the first time I’ve
- spotted this mountain beauty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Throwing himself onto his horse, he started down toward the south fork of
- the Encampment river and on to the westward the Shields ranch, wondering
- as he rode along who this strange girl of the hills could be. Once or
- twice he thought of Stella Rain and he manfully endeavored to keep his
- mind concentrated on the one to whom he was betrothed, running over in
- memory her last letter, reckoning the time that must elapse before the
- next one would arrive, recalling the tender incidents of their parting now
- two months ago. But his efforts were in vain. Always there kept recurring
- the vision of loveliness he had encountered on the range, and the mystery
- that surrounded the fair rider’s identity. Once again since Major
- Buell Hampton’s long diatribe on love and matrimony, he was vaguely
- conscious that his impetuous love-making on that memorable evening at
- Galesburg might have been a mistake, and that the little “college
- widow” in her unselfishness had spoken words of wisdom when she had
- counselled him to wait awhile—until he really did know his own mind—until
- he had really tried out his own heart, yes, until—Great heavens, he
- found himself recalling her very words, spoken with tears in her soft
- pretty eyes: “That’s just the trouble, Roderick. You do not
- know—you cannot make a comparison, nor you won’t know until
- the other girl comes along.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Had the other girl at last come? But at the disloyal thought he spurred
- his horse to a gallop, and as he did so the first snowflakes of the coming
- storm fluttered cold and damp against his flushed cheeks. At last he
- thought of other things; he was wondering now, as he glanced around into
- the thickening atmosphere, whether all the stray mavericks were at last
- safe in the winter pastures and corrals.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XI.—WINTER PASSES
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HAT night the big
- snow storm did indeed come, and when Roderick woke up next morning it was
- to find mountain and valley covered with a vast bedspread of immaculate
- white and the soft snowflakes still descending like a feathery down. The
- storm did not catch Mr. Shields unprepared; his vast herds were safe and
- snug in their winter quarters.
- </p>
- <p>
- The break in the weather marked the end of Roderick’s range riding
- for the season. He was now a stock feeder and engaged in patching up the
- corrals and otherwise playing his part of a ranch hand. And with this
- stay-at-home life he found himself thinking more and more of the real
- mission that had brought him into this land of mountains. Nearly every
- night when his work was finished, he studied a certain map of the hills—the
- inheritance left him by his father. On this map were noted “Sheep
- Mountain,” “Bennet Peak,” “Hahn’s Peak”
- and several other prominent landmarks. From his own acquaintance with the
- country Roderick now knew that the lost valley was quite a distance to the
- south and west from the Shields ranch.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus the wintry days wore on, and with their passing Roderick became more
- and more firm in his determination to be ready, when the snow was gone in
- the spring, to take up his father’s unfinished task of finding again
- the sandbar abounding with nuggets of gold. Indeed in his life of
- isolation it gradually came about that he thought of little else by day
- and dreamed of nothing else at night. Sometimes in the solitude of his
- room he smiled at his loneliness. What a change from the old college days—from
- the stir and excitement of New York. During the winter he had been invited
- to a score of gatherings, dances, and parties, but somehow he had become
- taciturn and had declined all invitations.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then, with stern self-control he had succeeded in putting out of mind the
- mysterious beauty of the range. Love at first sight!—he had laughed
- down such silliness, and rooted out of his heart the base treason that had
- even for a fleeting moment permitted such a thought. Yes, there was
- nothing but firmest loyalty in his mind for Stella Rain, who was waiting
- for him so faithfully and patiently, and whose letters cheered him and
- filled him with greater determination than ever to find the lost mine.
- </p>
- <p>
- His labors on the ranch were arduous but his health was excellent. At
- college he had been an athlete—now he was a rugged, bronzed-faced
- son of the hills. His only recreations were laying plans for the future
- and writing letters to Stella.
- </p>
- <p>
- Not infrequently his mind wandered back to Keokuk, the old river town, and
- his heart grew regretful that he had quarreled with his Unde Allen Miller,
- and his thoughts were tender of his Aunt Lois. Once he wrote a letter to
- Whitley Adams, then tore it up in a dissatisfied way, returning to the
- determination to make his fortune before communicating with his old
- friends.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the winter passed, and spring had come again.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was one morning in early May, just after he had finished his chores,
- when to his surprise Grant Jones shouted to him through the corral fence:
- “Hello, old man, how is ranching agreeing with you, anyway?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fine,” responded Roderick, “fine and dandy.” He
- let himself through the gate of the corral and shook hands with Grant.
- “Come up to the bunk house; seems mighty good to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks,” responded Grant, as they walked along. “Do you
- know, Warfield, I have been shut up over on the other side of the range
- ever since that first big snow-storm? I paddled out on snowshoes only once
- during the winter, and then walked over the tops of trees. Plenty of
- places up on the Sierra Madre,” continued Grant, nodding his head to
- the westward, “where the snow is still twenty to thirty feet deep.
- If a fellow had ever broken through, why, of course, he would have been
- lost until the spring.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Terrible to think about,” said Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that’s not all,” said Grant with his old exuberant
- laugh. “It would have been so devilish long from a fellow’s
- passing until his obituary came to be written. That is what gets on my
- nerves when I’m out on snowshoes. Of course the columns of the <i>Doublejack</i>
- are always open to write-ups on dead unfortunates, but it likes to have
- ‘em as near as possible to the actual date of demise. Then it’s
- live news.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sounds rather grewsome,” said Roderick, smiling at Grant’s
- oddity of expression.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arriving at the bunk house, they were soon seated around a big stove where
- a brisk fire was burning, for the air without was still sharp and the wind
- cutting and cold.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can offer you a pipe and some mighty fine tobacco,” said
- Roderick, pushing a tray toward him carrying a jar of tobacco and
- half-a-dozen cob pipes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Smells good,” commented Grant, as he accepted and began to
- fill one of the pipes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, tell me something about yourself, Grant. I supposed the
- attraction over here at the ranch was quite enough to make you brave
- snowstorms and snow-slides and thirty-foot snowdrifts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Warfield,” said Grant, half seriously, between puffs at his
- pipe, “that is what I want to talk with you about. The inducement is
- sufficient for all you suggest. She is a wonder. Without any question,
- Dorothy Shields is the sweetest girl that ever lived.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold on,” smiled Roderick. “There may be others in the
- different parts of the world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is that so?” ejaculated Grant with a rising inflection, while
- his countenance suggested an interrogation point.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I have no confessions to make,” rejoined Roderick, as he
- struck a match to light his pipe.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that’s just what is troubling me,” said Grant,
- still serious. “I was just wondering if anyone else had been
- browsing on my range over here at the Shields ranch while I have been
- penned up like a groundhog, getting out my weekly edition of the <i>Dillon
- Doublejock</i>, sometimes only fifty papers at an issue. Think of it!”
- And they both laughed at the ludicrous meagerness of such a circulation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But never mind,” continued Grant, reflectively, “I will
- run my subscriptions up to three or four hundred in sixty days when the
- snow is off the ground.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, that is all very well, old man. But when will the snow be off?
- I am considerably interested myself, for I want to do some prospecting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hang your prospecting,” said Grant, “or when the snow
- will go either. You haven’t answered my question.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, as to whether anyone has been browsing on your range?”
- exclaimed Roderick. “I must confess I do not know. They have had
- dances and parties and all that sort of thing but—I really don’t
- know, I have not felt in the mood and declined to attend. How do you find
- the little queen of your heart? Has she forgotten you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No-o,” responded Grant, slowly. “But dam it all, I can’t
- talk very well before the whole family. I am an out-door man. You give me
- the hills as a background and those millions of wild flowers that color
- our valleys along in July like Joseph’s coat, and it makes me bubble
- over with poetry and I can talk to beat a phonograph monologist.”
- This was said in a jovial, joking tone, but beneath it all Roderick knew
- there was much serious truth.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How is it, Grant? Are you pretty badly hit?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right square between the eyes, old man. Why, do you know, sitting
- over in that rocky gorge of Dillon canyon in the little town of Dillon,
- writing editorials for the Double jack month after month and no one to
- read my paper, I have had time to think it all over, and I have made up my
- mind to come here to the Shields ranch and tell Dorothy it is my firm
- conviction that she is the greatest woman on top of the earth, and that
- life to me without her is simply—well, I don’t have words to
- describe the pitiful loneliness of it all without her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick leaned back in his chair and laughed hilariously at his friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is no joking matter,” said Grant. “I’m a
- goner.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then there came a knock at the door and Roderick hastily arose to bid
- welcome to the caller. To the surprise of both the visitor proved to be
- Major Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton exchanged cordial greetings and expressed his great pleasure
- at finding his two young friends together. Accepting the invitation to be
- seated, he drew his meerschaum from his pocket and proceeded to fill from
- a tobacco pouch made of deer skin.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear Mr. Jones and’ Mr. Warfield,” he began, “where
- have you been all through the winter?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “For myself, right here doing chores about twelve hours per day,”
- answered Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As for me,” said Grant, “I have been way over ‘yonder’
- editing the <i>Dillon Doublejack.</i> I have fully a score of subscribers
- who would have been heartbroken if I had missed a single issue. I
- snow-shoed in to Encampment once, but your castle was locked and nobody
- seemed to know where you had gone, Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jones had again laughed good-naturedly over the limited circulation of his
- paper. Major Hampton smiled, while Roderick observed that there was
- nothing like living in a literary atmosphere.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If your circulation is small your persistence is certainly
- commendable,” observed the Major, looking benignly at Jones but not
- offering to explain his absence from Encampment when Jones had called.
- “I have just paid my respects,” he went on, “to Mr. and
- Mrs. Shields and their lovely daughters, and learned that you were also
- visiting these hospitable people. My errand contemplated calling upon Mr.
- Warfield as well. I almost feel I have been neglected. The latchstring
- hangs on the outside of my door for Mr. War-field as well as for you, Mr.
- Jones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Many thanks,” observed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your compliment is not unappreciated,” said Grant. “When
- do you return to Encampment?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Immediately after luncheon,” replied the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, I will go along with you,” said Grant. “I
- came over on my skis.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It will be a pleasure for me to extend the hospitality of the
- comfortable riding sled that brought me over,” responded the Major
- with Chesterfieldian politeness. “Jim Rankin is one of the safest
- drivers in the country and he has a fine spirited team, while the sledding
- is simply magnificent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Although the jingle of sleigh-bells always makes me homesick,”
- remarked Roderick, “I’d feel mighty pleased to return with
- you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It will be your own fault, Mr. Warfield, if you do not accompany
- us. I have just been talking to Mr. Shields, and he says you are the most
- remarkable individual he has ever had on his ranch—a regular hermit
- They never see you up at the house, and you have not been away from the
- ranch for months, while the young ladies, Miss Barbara and Miss Dorothy,
- think it perfectly horrid—to use their own expression—that you
- never leave your quarters here or spend an evening with the family.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick,” observed Grant, “I never thought you were a
- stuck-up prig before, but now I know you for what you are. But there must
- be an end to such exclusiveness. Let someone else do the chores. Get ready
- and come on back to Encampment with us, and we’ll have a royal
- evening together at the Major’s home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excellent idea,” responded the Major. “I have some
- great secrets to impart—but I am not sure I will tell you one of
- them,” he added with a good-natured smile. The others laughed at his
- excess of caution.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said Roderick, “if Mr. Shields can spare me
- for a few days I’ll accept your invitation.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this moment the door was opened unceremoniously and in walked the two
- Miss Shields. The men hastily arose and laid aside their pipes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are here as messengers,” said Miss Dorothy, smiling.
- “You, Mr. Warfield, are to come up to the house and have dinner with
- us as well as the Major and Grant.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Glorious,” said Grant, smiling broadly. “Roderick, did
- you hear that? She calls you Mr. Warfield and she calls me Grant.
- Splendid, splendid!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know somebody that will have their ears cuffed in a moment,”
- observed Miss Dorothy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Again I ejaculate splendid!” said Grant in great hilarity, as
- if daring her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a mystery to me,” observed the Major, “how two
- such charming young ladies can remain so unappreciated.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, Major,” protested Barbara, “we are not
- unappreciated. Everybody thinks we are just fine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major,” observed Grant with great solemnity, “this is
- an opportunity I have long wanted.” He cleared his throat, winked at
- Roderick, made a sweeping glance at the young ladies and observed: “I
- wanted to express my admiration, yes, I might say my affection for—”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dorothy’s face was growing pink. She divined Grant’s ardent
- feelings although he had spoken not one word of love to her. Lightly
- springing to his side, she playfully but firmly placed her hands over his
- mouth and turned whatever else he had to say into incoherency.
- </p>
- <p>
- This ended Grant’s declaration. Even Major Buell Hampton smiled and
- Roderick inquired: “Grant, what are you mumbling about?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dorothy dropped her hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, just trying to tell her to keep me muzzled forever,”
- Grant smiled, and Dorothy’s cheeks were red with blushes.
- </p>
- <p>
- With this final sally all started for the big ranch house where they found
- that a sumptuous meal had been prepared.
- </p>
- <p>
- During the repast Barbara learned of the proposed reunion of the three
- friends at Encampment, and insisted that her father should give a few days’
- vacation to Mr. Warfield. The favor was quickly granted, and an hour later
- Jim Rankin brought up his bob-sled and prancing team, and to the merry
- sound of the sleigh-bells Major Buell Hampton and the two young men sped
- away for Encampment.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was arranged that Roderick and Grant should have an hour or two to
- themselves and then call later in the evening on the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was half irritated to find no letter at the post office from
- Stella Rain. In point of fact, during the past two months, he had been
- noticing longer and longer gaps in her correspondence. Sometimes he felt
- his vanity touched and was inclined to be either angry or humiliated. But
- at other times he just vaguely wondered whether his loved one was drifting
- away from him.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XII—THE MAJOR’S FIND
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>HEN Grant Jones
- and Roderick arrived at the Major’s home that evening they found
- other visitors already installed before the cheerful blaze of the open
- hearth. These were Tom Sun, owner of more sheep than any other man in the
- state; Boney Earnest, the blast furnace man in the big smelting plant; and
- Jim Rankin, who had joined his two old cronies after unharnessing the
- horses from the sleigh.
- </p>
- <p>
- Cordial introductions and greetings were exchanged. Although Roderick had
- shaken hands before with Boney Earnest, this was their first meeting in a
- social way. And it was the very first time he had encountered Tom Sun.
- Therefore the fortuitous gathering of his father’s three old friends
- came to him as a pleasant surprise. He was glad of the chance to get
- better acquainted.
- </p>
- <p>
- While the company were settling themselves in chairs around the fireplace,
- Jim Rankin seized the moment for a private confabulation with Roderick. He
- drew the young man into a corner and addressed him in a mysterious
- whisper: “By gunnies, Mr. War-field, it sure is powerful good to
- have yer back agin. It’s seemed a tarnation long winter. But you bet
- I’ve been keepin’ my mind on things—our big secret—you
- know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick nodded and Rankin went on: “I’ve been prognosticatin’
- out this here way and then that way on a dozen trips after our
- onderstandin’, searchin’ like fur that business; but dang my
- buttons it’s pesterin’ hard to locate and don’t you
- forgit it. Excuse us, gentlemen, we are talkin’ about certain
- private matters but we don’t mean ter be impolite. I’m ‘lowin’
- it’s the biggest secret in these diggin’s—ain’t
- that right, Roderick?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Rankin laughed good-humoredly at his own remarks as he took out his
- tobacco pouch of fine cut and stowed away a huge cud. “You bet yer
- life,” he continued between vigorous chews, “somebody is
- nachurlly going to be a heap flustrated ‘round here one of these
- days, leastways that’s what we’re assoomin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, Jim,” observed Tom Sun, “what are you talkin’
- about anyway? Boney, I think Jim is just as crazy as ever.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I reckon that’s no lie,” responded Boney,
- good-naturedly. “Always was as crazy as a March hare with a bone in
- its throat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, look here you fellows, yer gittin’ tumultuous,”
- exclaimed Rankin, “you’re interferin’. Say, Major
- Hampton, I’m not a dangnation bit peevish or nuthin’ like
- that, but do you know who are the four biggest and most ponderous liars in
- the state of Wyoming?” The Major looked up in surprise but did not
- reply. “Waal,” said Rankin, expectorating toward the burning
- logs in the open hearth and proceeding to answer his own question, “Boney
- Earnest is sure one uv ‘em, I am one uv ‘em, and Tom Sun is
- ‘tother two.” Rankin guffawed loudly. This brought forth quite
- an expression of merriment The only reply from Tom Sun was that his thirty
- odd years of association with Jim Rankin and Boney Earnest was quite
- enough to make a prince of liars of anyone.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently the Major said: “Gentlemen, after taking a strict
- inventory I find there are six men in the world for whom I entertain an
- especial interest. Of course, my mission in life in a general way is in
- behalf of humanity, but there are six who have come to be closer to me
- than all the rest Five of them are before me. Of the other I will not
- speak at this time. I invited you here this evening because you represent
- in a large measure the things that I stand for. The snow will soon be
- going, spring is approaching and great things will happen during the next
- year—far greater than you dream of. You are friends of mine and I
- have decided under certain restrictions to share with you an important
- secret.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Thereupon he pointed to some little sacks, until now unnoticed, that lay
- on the center table. “Untie these sacks and empty the contents onto
- the table if you will, Mr. Warfield.” Roderick complied.
- </p>
- <p>
- Each sack held about a hatful of broken rock, and to the amazement of the
- Major’s guests Roderick emptied out on the table the richest gold
- ores that any of them had ever beheld. They were porphyry and white
- quartz, shot full of pure gold and stringers of gold. Indeed the pieces of
- quartz were seemingly held together with purest wire gold.
- </p>
- <p>
- The natural query that was in the heart of everyone was soon given voice
- by Jim Rankin. After scanning the remarkable exhibit he turned to Major
- Buell Hampton and exclaimed: “Gosh ‘lmighty, Major, where did
- this here come from?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A most natural question but one which I am not inclined to answer
- at this time,” said the Major, smiling benignly. “Gentlemen,
- it is my intention that everyone present shall share with me in a
- substantial way in the remarkable discovery, the evidence of which is
- lying before you. There are five of you and I enjoin upon each the most
- solemn pledge of secrecy, even as regards the little you have yet learned
- of the great secret which I possess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They all gave their pledges, and the Major went on: “There is enough
- of these remarkably rich ores for everyone. But should the slightest
- evidence come to me that anyone of you gentlemen has been so thoughtless,
- or held the pledge you have just made so lightly, that you have shared
- with any outsider the information so far given, his name will assuredly be
- eliminated from this pact. Therefore, it is not only a question of honor
- but a question of self-interest, and I feel sure the former carries with
- it more potency with each of you than the latter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In the meantime Roderick was closely examining the samples of gold.
- Instinctively he had put his hand to the inside pocket of his coat and
- felt for his father’s map. He was wondering whether Buell Hampton
- had come into possession of the identical piece of knowledge he himself
- was searching for. Presently Jim Rankin whispered in his ear: “By
- gunnies, Warfield, I guess the Major has beat us to it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Roderick shook his head reassuringly. He remembered that his father’s
- find was placer gold—water-worn nuggets taken from a sandbar in some
- old channel, as the sample in Jim Rankin’s own possession showed.
- The ores he was now holding were of quite a different class—they had
- been broken from the living rock.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the specimens had been returned to the sample sacks and the
- excitement had quieted a little, Major Hampton threw his head back in his
- own princely way, as he sat in his easy chair before the fire and
- observed: “Money may be a blessing or it may be a curse. Personally
- I shall regret the discovery if a single dollar of this wealth, which it
- is in my power to bring to the light of day, should ever bring sorrow to
- humanity. It is my opinion that the richest man in the world should not
- possess more than a quarter of a million dollars at most, and even that
- amount is liable to make a very poor citizen out of an otherwise good man.
- Unnecessary wealth merely stimulates to abnormal or wicked extravagance.
- It is also self-evident that a more equal distribution of wealth would
- obtain if millionaires were unknown, and greater happiness would naturally
- follow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but the world requires ‘spenders’ as well as
- getters,’”laughed Tom Sun. “Otherwise we would all be
- dying of sheer weariness of each other.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Surely, there are arguments on both sides,” assented the
- Major. “It is a difficult problem. I was merely contending that a
- community of comparatively poor people who earn their bread by the sweat
- of their brow—tilling the soil and possessed of high ideals of good
- citizenship—such people beyond question afford the greatest example
- of contentment, morality and happiness. Great wealth is the cause of some
- of our worst types of degeneracy. However,” he concluded, knocking
- the ashes from his pipe, “it is not my purpose this evening to
- sermonize. Nor do I intend at present to say anything more about the rich
- gold discovery I have made except to reiterate my assurance that at the
- proper time all you gentlemen will be called on to share in the enterprise
- and in its profits. Now I believe some of you”—and he looked
- at Jim Rankin, Tom Sun and Boney Earnest as he spoke—“have
- another engagement tonight. It was only at my special request, Mr.
- Warfield, that they remained to meet you and Mr. Jones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And we’re much obliged to you, Major,” said Boney
- Earnest, arising and glancing at his watch. “Hope old John Warfield’s
- boy and I will get still better acquainted. But I’ve got to be going
- now. You see my wife insisted that I bring the folks back early so that
- she might have a visit with Mr. Rankin and Mr. Sun.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Tom Sun shook hands cordially.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Glad to have met you, Mr. Warfield,” he said, “for your
- father’s sake as well as your own. I trust we’ll meet often.
- Good-night, Mr. Jones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Rankin whispered something to Roderick, but Roderick did not catch the
- words, and when he attempted to inquire the old fellow merely nodded his
- head and said aloud: “You bet your life; I’m assoomin’
- this is jist ‘tween me and you.” Roderick smiled at this
- oddity, as the man of mystery followed his friends from the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the door closed and Roderick and Grant were alone with the Major,
- pipes were again lighted, and a spell of silence fell upon the group—the
- enjoyable silence of quiet companionship. The Major showed no disposition
- to re-open the subject of the rich gold discovery, nor did Roderick feel
- inclined to press for further information. As he mused, however, he became
- more firmly convinced than before that his secret was still his own—that
- Buell Hampton, in this rugged mountain region with its many undiscovered
- storehouses of wealth, had tumbled on a different gold-bearing spot to
- that located by Uncle Allen Miller and his father. Some day, perhaps, he
- would show the Major the letter and the map. But to do this now might seem
- like begging the favor of further confidences, so until these were
- volunteered Roderick must pursue his own lonesome trail. The mere sight of
- the gold, however, had quickened his pulse beats. To resume the humdrum
- life at the ranch seemed intolerable. He longed to be out on the hills
- with his favorite pony Badger, searching every nook and corner for the
- hidden treasure.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently Buell Hampton arose and laid his pipe aside, and going to a
- curtained corner of the room returned with his violin. And long into the
- night, with only a fitful light from the burning logs in the open
- fireplace, the Major played for his young friends. It seemed his
- repertoire was without beginning and without end. As he played his moods
- underwent many changes. Now he was gay and happy, at another moment sad
- and wistful. He passed from sweet low measures into wild, thrilling
- abandonment. Now he was drawing divine harmony from the strings by dainty
- caresses, again he was almost brutally compelling them to render forth the
- fierce passion of music that was surging in his own soul. The performance
- held the listeners spellbound—left them for the moment speechless
- when at last the player dropped into a chair. The instrument was laid
- across his knees; he was still fondling it with gentle touches and taps
- from his long slender fingers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You love your violin, Major,” Roderick at last managed to
- articulate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” came the low-spoken fervent reply, “every crease,
- crevice and string of the dear old Cremona that was given me more than
- half a century ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wish,” said Grant, “that I could express my
- appreciation of the wonderful entertainment you have given us tonight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are very complimentary,” replied the Major, bestirring
- himself. He rose, laid the violin on the table, and brightened up the fire
- with additional fuel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I’m afraid we must be going,” added Grant. “It
- is getting late.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I have a message for you young gentlemen,” said the
- Major. “You are invited to attend one of the most distinguished
- soirees ever given in the Platte River Valley. Mr. and Mrs. Shields
- mentioned this today, and made me the special messenger to extend the
- invitation to you both.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Splendid,” exclaimed Grant. “When does this come off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Two weeks from this evening,” replied the Major. “And
- we will have a comparative newcomer to the valley to grace the occasion.
- She has been here through the late fall and winter, but has been too busy
- nursing her sick and bereaved old father to go out into society.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “General Holden’s daughter?” queried Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The same. And Gail Holden is certainly a most beautiful young lady.
- Have you seen her, Mr. War-field?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not that I’m aware of,” replied Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A most noble young woman, too,” continued the Major. “They
- are Illinois people. The mother died last year under sad circumstances—all
- the family fortune swept away. But the girl chanced to own these Wyoming
- acres in her own right, so she brought her father here, and has started a
- little cattle ranch, going in for pedigreed dairy stock and likely to do
- well too, make no mistake. You should just see her swing a lariat,”
- the speaker added with a ring of admiration in his tone.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick started. Great Scott! could this be the fair horsewoman he had
- encountered on the mountain side just before the coming of the big snow.
- But a vigorous slap on his shoulder administered by Grant broke him from
- reverie.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why don’t you say something, old fellow? Isn’t this
- glorious news? Are you not delighted at the opportunity of tripping the
- light fantastic toe with a beauty from Illinois as well as our own
- home-grown Wyoming belles?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” replied Roderick slowly, “I have not been
- attending any of these affairs, although I may do so in this instance.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Barbara Shields,” said the Major, “especially
- requested me to tell you, Mr. Warfield, that she positively insists on
- your being present.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ho, ho!” laughed Grant. “So you’ve made a hit in
- that quarter, eh, Roderick? Well, better a prospective brother-in-law than
- a dangerous rival. Dorothy’s mine, and don’t you forget it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant’s boyish hilarity was contagious, his gay audacity amusing.
- Even the Major laughed heartily. But Roderick was blushing furiously. A
- moment before he had been thinking of one fair charmer. And now here was
- another being thrown at him, so to speak, although in jest and not in
- earnest. Barbara Shields—he had never dared to think of her as
- within his reach even had not loyalty bound his affections elsewhere. But
- the complications seemed certainly to be thickening.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come along, old chap,” said Grant, as they gained the
- roadway. “We’ll have a look through the town, just to see if
- there’s any news about.”
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE Bazaar was a
- popular resort. The proprietor was known as “Southpaw.”
- Doubtless he had another name but it was not known in the mining camp.
- Even his bank account was carried in the name of “Southpaw.”
- </p>
- <p>
- When Roderick and Grant entered the saloon they found a motley crowd at
- the bar and in the gaming room, fully twenty cowboys with their
- broad-rimmed sombreros, wearing hairy chaps, decorated with fancy belts
- and red handkerchiefs carelessly tied about their necks. Evidently one of
- them had just won at the wheel and they were celebrating.
- </p>
- <p>
- The brilliant lights and the commingling of half a hundred miners and many
- cowboys presented a spectacular appearance that was both novel and
- interesting. Just behind them came shuffling into the room a short, stout,
- heavily-built man with a scowling face covered with a short growth of
- black whiskers. His eyes were small and squinty, his forehead low and his
- chin protruding.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick and Grant were standing at the end of the bar, waiting for
- lemonades they had ordered. Roderick’s attention was attracted by
- the uncouth newcomer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Grant, who is that gorilla-looking chap?” he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant half turned with a sweeping glance and then looking back at
- Roderick, replied: “That is Bud Bledsoe. He is a sort of sleuth for
- Grady, the manager of the smelting plant, the man I introduced you to,
- remember, the first day you came to Encampment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I remember Grady all right,” nodded Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, many people believe he keeps Bledsoe around him to do his
- dirty work. A while ago there was a grave suspicion that this chap
- committed a terrible crime, doubtless inspired by Grady, but it is not
- known positively and of course Grady is all-powerful and nothing was said
- about it outright.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In the meantime Bud Bledsoe walked into the back part of the room, and
- finding a vacant seat at a gaming table bought a stack of chips and was
- soon busy over his cards. Presently the two friends, having lighted fresh
- cigars, left the saloon.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant looked into two or three other places, but finding there was “nothing
- doing,” no news of any kind stirring, at last turned for home.
- Entering the familiar old bachelor shack, Roderick too felt at home, and
- it was not long before a cheerful fire was kindled and going. Grant was
- leaning an elbow on the mantel above and talking to Roderick of the
- pleasure he anticipated at the coming dance over at the Shields place.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wonder what Miss Barbara meant when she sent that special message
- to you, Roderick? Have you a ground wire of some kind with the young lady
- and are you on more intimate relations than I have been led to believe?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant smiled broadly at Roderick as he asked the question.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Search me,” replied Roderick. “I have never spoken to
- her excepting in the presence of other people.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I presume you know,” Grant went on, “that she is the
- object of Carlisle’s affections and he gets awfully jealous if
- anyone pays court to her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And who’s Carlisle?” asked Roderick, looking up
- quickly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, he is the great lawyer,” replied Grant “W. Henry
- Carlisle. Have you never heard of the feud between Carlisle and Attorney
- Bragdon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” said Roderick. “Both names are new to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I supposed everybody knew about their forensic battles. You
- see, W. Henry Carlisle is the attorney for the Smelter and Ben Bragdon is
- without doubt the most eloquent young lawyer that ever stood before a jury
- in southern Wyoming. These two fellows are usually against each other in
- all big lawsuits in these parts of the country, and you should see the
- courthouse fill up when there is a jury trial.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick did not seem especially interested, and throwing his cigar stub
- into the open fire, he filled his pipe. “Now, I’ll have a real
- smoke,” he observed as he pressed a glowing firestick from the
- hearth down on the tobacco.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Grady and Carlisle are together in all financial ventures,”
- Grant continued.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don’t look as if you are very fond of this man Grady,”
- commented Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fond of him?” ejaculated Grant in disgust; “he is the
- most obnoxious creature in the district. He treats everybody who is
- working for him as if they were dogs. He has this bruiser, Bud Bledsoe, as
- a sort of bodyguard and this W. Henry Carlisle as a legal protector, so he
- attempts to walk rough shod over everybody—indifferent and insolent.
- Oh, let’s not talk about Grady. I become indecently indignant
- whenever I think of his outrages against some of the poor fellows in this
- camp.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” said Roderick, jovially looking up; “let us
- talk about the dance and especially Miss Dorothy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s the text,” said Grant, “Dorothy—Dorothy
- Shields-Jones. Won’t that make a corker of a name though? If I tell
- you a secret will you promise it shall be sacred?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly,” replied Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said Grant, reddening, “while I was over there
- at the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> office, isolated from the world,
- surrounded with mountains and snow—nothing but snow and snowbanks
- and high mountains in every direction, why, I played job printer and set
- up some cards with a name thereon—can’t you guess?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Impossible,” said Roderick, smiling broadly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Mrs. Dorothy Shields-Jones,” he repeated slowly, then
- laughed uproariously at the confession.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let me see one of the cards,” asked Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, I only kept the proof I pulled before pieing the type, and
- that I have since torn up. But just wait That girl’s destiny is
- marked out for her,” continued Grant, enthusiastically, “and
- believe me, Warfield, I shall make her life a happy one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hope you’ve convinced her of that, old man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Convinced her! Why I haven’t had the courage yet to say a
- word,” replied Grant, somewhat shamefacedly. “I’m going
- to rely on you to speak up for me when the critical moment arrives.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was rather premature, certainly, to print the lady’s
- double-barreled-name visiting card,” laughed Roderick. “But
- there, you know I’m with you and for you all the time.” And he
- extended the hand of brotherly comradeship.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And about you and Barbara?” ventured Grant, tentatively.
- “I’ve heard your name mentioned in connection with hers
- several times.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, forget all that rot,” responded Roderick, flushing
- slightly. He had never mentioned the “college widow” to his
- friend, and felt that he was sailing under false colors. “It will be
- a long time before I can think of such matters,” he went on, turning
- toward his accustomed stretcher. “Let’s get to bed. It has
- been a long day, and I for one am tired.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A few minutes later lights were out.
- </p>
- <p>
- When they got up next morning, they found that a letter had been pushed
- under the door. Warfield picked it up and read the scrawled inscription.
- It was addressed to Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee,” said Grant as he took the letter from Roderick, “this
- town is forging ahead mighty fast. Free delivery. Who in the demnition
- bowwows do you suppose could have done this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Opening the envelope he spread the letter on the table, and both bent
- above it to read its contents. There was just a couple of lines, in
- printed characters.
- </p>
- <p>
- Words had been cut out of a newspaper apparently, and stuck on the white
- sheet of paper. They read as follows: <i>“Tell your friend to let
- Barbara alone or his hide will be shot full of holes.”</i>
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant and Roderick stood looking at each other, speechless with amazement.
- Barbara was the only written word.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What can be the meaning of this?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Beyond me,” replied Grant. “Evidently others besides
- myself have come to think you are interested in Barbara Shields. Possibly
- the young lady has been saying nice things about you, and somebody is
- jealous.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rank foolishness,” exclaimed Roderick hotly. Then he laughed,
- as he added: “However, if the young lady interested me before she
- becomes all the more interesting now. But let the incident drop. We shall
- see what we shall see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They walked up the street to a restaurant and breakfasted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It might be,” remarked Grant, referring back to the strange
- letter, “that Attorney Carlisle, who they say is daffy over Barbara
- Shields, has had that sleuth of Grady’s, Bud Bledsoe, fix up this
- letter to sort of scare you off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant laughed good-humoredly as he said this.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Scare me off like hell,” said Roderick in disgust. “I
- am not easily scared with anonymous letters. Only cowards write that sort
- of stuff.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They arose from the table and turned down the street towards the smelting
- plant It was necessary to keep well on the sidewalks and away from the mud
- in the roadway, for the weather was turning warm and snow was melting very
- fast.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There will be no sleighs and sleigh-bells at the Shields’
- entertainment,” observed Grant. “This snow in the lowlands
- will all be gone in a day or two.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They paused on a street corner and noticed five logging outfits swinging
- slowly down the street, then turn into the back yard of Buell Hampton’s
- home and begin unloading.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you suppose Major Hampton can want with all those logs?”
- asked Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let us make a morning call on the Major,” suggested Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right you are,” assented Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major extended his usual hearty welcome. He had evidently been busy at
- his writing table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We came down,” said Grant, “to get a job cutting wood.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major looked out of the window at the great stack of logs and smiled.
- “No, young gentlemen,” he said, “those logs are not for
- firewood but to build an addition to my humble home. You see, I have a
- small kitchen curtained off in the rear, and back of that I intend putting
- in an extra room. I expect to have ample use for this additional
- accommodation, but just at this time perhaps will not explain its
- purposes. Won’t you be seated?”
- </p>
- <p>
- They pulled up chairs before the fire, which was smouldering low, for in
- the moderated condition of the weather a larger fire was not needed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only for a moment, Major. We do not wish to take you from your
- work, whatever it may be. I will confess,” Grant went on, smiling,
- “that we were curious to know about the logs, and decided we would
- look in on you and satisfy our curiosity; and then, too, we have the
- pleasure of saying hello.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very kind of you, very kind, I am sure,” responded the Major;
- and turning to Roderick he inquired when he expected to return to the
- Shields ranch.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am going out this afternoon,” replied Roderick. “By
- the way, Major, do you expect to be at the Shields’ entertainment?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, it is hardly probable. I am very busy and then, too, I am far
- past the years when such functions interest. Nevertheless, I can well
- understand how two young gentlemen like yourselves will thoroughly enjoy
- an entertainment given by such hospitable people as the Shields.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon after they took their leave and walked up the street. Grant made
- arrangements to start directly after luncheon for Dillon, where copy had
- to be got ready for the next issue of his paper.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick rode slowly across the valley that afternoon, his mind dwelt
- on the rich gold discovery made by Buell Hampton, and he evolved plans for
- getting promptly to serious prospecting work on his own account. Sometimes
- too he caught himself thinking of the strange girl of the hills who could
- throw a lasso so cleanly and cleverly; he wondered if their paths would
- ever cross again.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIV.—THE EVENING PARTY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE night of the
- big fiesta at the Shields ranch had arrived, and the invited guests had
- gathered from far and near. And what a bevy of pretty girls and gay young
- fellows they were! Even the cowboys on this occasion were faultless Beau
- Brummels; chaps, belts, and other frontier regalia were laid aside in
- favor of the starched shirtfront and dress clothes of the fashionable
- East. The entertainment was to consist of dancing and song, with a
- sumptuous supper about the midnight hour.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick of course was there—“by command” of the fair
- daughter of the house, Barbara Shields. At the entrance to the reception
- hall the twin sisters gave him cordial welcome, and gaily rallied him on
- having at last emerged from his anchorite cell. On passing into the
- crowded room, young Warfield had one of the greatest surprises of his
- life.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, Roderick, old scout, how are you anyway?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Someone had slapped him on the shoulder, and on turning round he found
- himself face to face with Whitley Adams.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whitley, old man!” he gasped in sheer astonishment.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then followed hand-shaking such as only two old college chums can engage
- in after a long separation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did it all happen?” inquired Roderick, when the first
- flush of meeting was over.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tell you later,” said Whitley. “Gee, old man, I ought
- to beat you up for not letting me know all this time where you were.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I have been so confoundedly busy,” was the
- half-apologetic reply.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so have I myself. I am taking a post-graduate course just now
- in being busy. You would never guess what a man of affairs I’ve come
- to be.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You certainly surprise me,” laughed Roderick drily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, but I’m going to take your breath away. Since you’ve
- gone, I’ve become quite chummy with your Uncle Allen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don’t say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, siree. I think he took to me first of all in the hope that
- through me he would get news of the lost prodigal—the son of his
- adoption whose absence he is never tired of deploring.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Poor old uncle,” murmured Roderick, affectionately and
- regretfully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, he takes all the blame to himself for having driven you away
- from home. But here—let’s get into this quiet corner, man. You
- haven’t yet heard half my news.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The two chums were soon installed on a seat conveniently masked—for
- other purposes, no doubt—by pot plants and flowers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And how’s dear Aunt Lois?” asked Roderick, as they
- settled themselves.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, dear Aunt Lois can wait,” replied Whitley.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She’s all right—don’t look a day older since I
- remember her. It is <i>I</i> who am the topic of importance—<i>I</i>”—and
- he tapped his chest in the fervency of his egoism.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, fire away,” laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley rambled on: “Well, I was just going to tell you how your
- uncle and I have been pulling along together fine. After stopping me in
- the street two or three times to ask me whether I had yet got news of you,
- he ended in offering me a position in the bank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee whizz!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t look so demed superior. Why, man alive. I’m a
- born banker—a born man of affairs! So at least your uncle tells me
- in the intervals of asking after you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, you’ve certainly taken my breath away. But how come you
- to be in Encampment, Whitley?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “On business, of course—important business, you bet, or I
- wouldn’t have been spared from the office. Oh, I’ll tell <i>you</i>—you’re
- a member of the firm, or will be some day, which is all the same thing.
- There’s a fellow here, W. B. Grady, wanting a big loan on some
- smelter bonds.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know the man. But I thought he was rolling in money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, it’s just the fellows who are rolling in money who need
- ready money worst,” smiled the embryonic banker with a shrewd
- twinkle in his eyes. “He’s a big speculator on the outside,
- make no mistake, even though he may be a staid and stolid business man
- here. Well, he needs hard cash just at present, and the proposed loan came
- the way of our bank. Your uncle jumped at it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Security must be pretty good,” laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No doubt. But there’s another reason this time for your uncle’s
- financial alacrity. Seems an old friend of his was swindled out of the
- identical block of bonds offered by this same Grady, and your uncle sees a
- possible chance some day of getting them out of his clutches and restoring
- them to where they properly belong.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But all that’s contrary to one of Uncle Allen’s most
- cherished principles—that friendship and business don’t mix. I’ve
- heard him utter that formula a score of times.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, cherished principles or no cherished principles, he seems
- downright determined this time to let friendship play a hand. He tells me—oh,
- I’m quite in his confidence, you see—that it’s a matter
- of personal pride for him to try and win back his fortune for this old
- friend, General Holden—that’s the name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Holden?—Holden?” murmured Roderick. He seemed to have
- heard the name before, but could not for the moment locate its owner.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, General Holden. He’s ranching up here for the present—or
- rather his daughter is. They say she’s a stunning girl, and my
- lawyer friend Ben Bragdon has promised to introduce me. Oh, though I’m
- a man of affairs, old chap, I’ve an eye for a pretty girl too, all
- the time. And I’m told she’s a top-notcher in the beauty line,
- this Gail Holden.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gail Holden!” Roderick repeated the name out loud, as he
- started erect in his seat. He knew who the father was now—the
- daughter was no other than the mysterious rider of the range.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley’s face wore a quizzical look.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello! you know her then, old chap?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I never met her—at least I have never been introduced to her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s good hearing. Then we’ll start level tonight. Of
- course I’ll cut you out in the long run if she proves to be just my
- style.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go ahead,” smiled Roderick. He had already recovered his
- self-possession. “But you haven’t informed me yet how you come
- to know Ben Bragdon, our cleverest young lawyer here, I’ve been
- told, and likely enough to get the Republican nomination for state
- senator.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, simple enough. I’ve come up to investigate one technical
- point in regard to those smelter bonds. Well, Ben Bragdon, your political
- big gun, happens to be your uncle’s legal adviser in Wyoming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which reminds me,” interposed Roderick earnestly, “that
- you are not to give away my whereabout, Whitley—just yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A bit rough on the old uncle not to tell him where you are—or
- at least let him know that you are safe and well. He loves you dearly,
- Rod, my boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And I love him—yes, I’ll admit it, I love him dearly,
- and Aunt Lois too. But this is a matter of personal pride, Whitley. You
- spoke a moment ago of Uncle Allen’s personal pride. Well, I’ve
- got mine too, and that day of my last visit to Keokuk, when he told me
- that not one dollar of his fortune would ever be mine unless I agreed to
- certain abominable conditions he chose to lay down, I on my side resolved
- that I would show him I could win a fortune from the world by my own
- unaided efforts. And that’s what I’m going to do, Whitley;
- make no mistake. I don’t want him to butt in and interfere in any
- way. I am going to play this game absolutely alone, and luckily my name
- gives no clue to the lawyer Ben Bragdon or anyone else here of my
- relationship with the rich banker of Keokuk, Allen Miller.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course, Rod, whatever you say goes. But all the same there can
- be no harm in my relieving your uncle’s mind by at least telling him
- that I’ve heard from you—that you are in good health, and all
- that sort of thing. But you bet I won’t let out where you are or
- what you are doing. Oh, I’ll go up in the old chap’s
- estimation by holding on tight to such a secret. To be absolutely
- immovable when it would be a breach of confidence to be otherwise is part
- of a successful young banker’s moral make-up, you understand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick laughed, his obduracy broken down by the other’s gay
- insistence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, old fellow, we’ll let it go at that But as to my
- being in Wyoming, remember dead secrecy’s the word. Shake hands on
- that; my faith in such a talented and discreet young banker is implicit.
- But now we must join the others or they’ll be thinking us rather
- rude.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That—or the dear girls may be fretting out their hearts on my
- account. A rich young banker from Iowa doesn’t blow into Encampment
- every day, you know.” And Whitley Adams laughed with all the buoyant
- pride of youth, good looks, good health, and good spirits. “Come
- along, dear boy,” he went on, linking his hand in Roderick’s
- arm. “We’ll find Lawyer Bragdon, get our introductions, and
- start fair with the beauteous chatelaine of the cattle range.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick had heard about Ben Bragdon from Grant Jones, but had not as yet
- happened to meet the brilliant young attorney who was fast becoming a
- political factor in the state of Wyoming. So it fell to the chance visitor
- to the town, Whitley Adams, to make these two townsmen acquainted. Bragdon
- shook Roderick’s hand with all the cordiality and geniality of a
- born “mixer” and far-seeing politician. But Whitley cut out
- all talk and unblushingly demanded that he and his friend should be
- presented without further delay to General Holden’s daughter.
- </p>
- <p>
- They found her in company with Barbara Shields who, her duties of
- receiving over, was now mingling with her guests.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Holden, let me present you to Mr. Roderick Warfield.”
- The introducer was Ben Bragdon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “One of papa’s favorite boys,” added Barbara kindly,
- “and one of our best riders on the range.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “As I happen to know,” said Gail Holden; and with a frank
- smile of recognition she extended her hand. “We have already met in
- the hills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was blushing. “Yes,” he laughed nervously. “I
- was stupid enough to offer to help you with a young steer. But I didn’t
- know then I was addressing such a famous horsewoman and expert with the
- lariat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail Holden smiled, pleasedly but composedly. She possessed that peculiar
- modesty of dignified reserve which challenges the respect of men.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you would have no doubt done a great deal better than I did,”
- she replied graciously.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Whitley Adams had administered a kick to Roderick’s heel, and
- was now pushing him aside with a muttered: “You never told me you
- had this flying start, you cunning dog. But it’s my turn now.”
- And he placed himself before Miss Holden, and was duly presented by
- Bragdon.
- </p>
- <p>
- A moment later Whitley was engaging Gail in a sprightly conversation.
- Roderick turned to Barbara, only to find her appropriated by Ben Bragdon.
- And Barbara seemed mightily pleased with the young lawyer’s
- attentions—she was smiling, and her eyes were sparkling, as she
- listened to some anecdote he was telling. Roderick began to feel kind of
- lonesome. If there was going to be anyone “shot full of holes”
- because of attentions to the fair Miss Barbara, he was evidently not the
- man. He had said to Grant Jones that any association of his name with hers
- was “rank foolishness,” and humbly felt now the absolute
- truthfulness of the remark. He began to look around for Grant—he
- felt he was no ladies’ man, that he was out of his element in such a
- gathering. There were many strange faces; he knew only a few of those
- present.
- </p>
- <p>
- But his roving glance again lighted and lingered on Gail Holden. Yes, she
- was beautiful, indeed, both in features and in figure. Tall, willowy,
- stately, obviously an athlete, with a North of Ireland suggestion in her
- dark fluffy hair and sapphire blue eyes and pink-rose cheeks. He had seen
- her riding the range, a study in brown serge with a big sombrero on her
- head, and he saw her now in the daintiest of evening costumes, a deep
- collar of old lace around her fair rounded neck, a few sprigs of lily of
- the valley in her corsage, a filigree silver buckle at the belt that
- embraced her lissom form. And as he gazed on this beauty of the hills,
- this splendid type of womanhood, there came back to him in memory the
- wistful little face—yes, by comparison the somewhat worn and faded
- face—of the “college widow” to whom his troth was
- plighted, for whom he had been fighting and was fighting now the battle of
- life, the prize of true love he was going to take back proudly to Uncle
- Allen Miller along with the fortune he was to win with his own brain and
- hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gad, it’s more than three weeks since Stella wrote to me,”
- he said to himself, angrily. Somehow he was glad to feel angry—relieved
- in mind to find even a meagre pitiful excuse for the disloyal comparison
- that had forced itself upon his mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- But at this moment the music struck up, there was a general movement, and
- he found himself next to Dorothy Shields. Whitley had already sailed away
- with Miss Holden.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is Grant?” asked Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not yet arrived,” replied Dorothy. “He warned me that
- he would be late.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then perhaps I may have the privilege of the first waltz, as his
- best friend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or for your own sake,” she laughed, as she placed her hand on
- his shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon they were in the mazy whirl. When the dance was ended Dorothy, taking
- his arm, indicated that she wished him to meet some people in another part
- of the room. After one or two introductions to young ladies, she turned to
- a rather heavy set, affable-looking gentleman and said: “Mr.
- Warfield, permit me to introduce you to Mr. Carlisle—Mr. Carlisle,
- Mr. Warfield.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The men shook hands and looked into each other’s eyes. Roderick
- remembered this was the attorney of the smelting plant, and Carlisle
- remembered this was the young gentleman of whom the Shields sisters had so
- often spoken in complimentary terms. W. Henry Carlisle was a man perhaps
- forty years old. He was not only learned in the law, but one could not
- talk with him long without knowing he was purposeful and determined and in
- any sort of a contest worthy of his foeman’s steel.
- </p>
- <p>
- Later Roderick danced with Barbara, and when he had handed her over to the
- next claimant on her card was again accosted by Ben Bragdon. He had liked
- the young attorney from the first, and together they retired for a
- cigarette in the smoking room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I saw you were introduced to that fellow Carlisle,” began
- Bragdon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick, smiling, for he already knew of the
- professional feud between the two men.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, let me say something to you,” Bragdon continued.
- “You look to me like a man that is worth while, and I take the
- opportunity of telling you to let him alone. Carlisle is no good. Outside
- of law business and the law courts I would not speak to him if he were the
- last man on earth.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why,” said Roderick, “you are pronounced in your views
- to say the least.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Bragdon turned to Roderick and for a moment was silent. Then he asked:
- “What are you, a Republican or a Democrat?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, I am a Republican.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shake,” said Bragdon, and they clasped hands without Roderick
- hardly understanding why. “Let me tell you something else,”
- Bragdon went on. “Carlisle claims to be a Republican but I believe
- he is a Democrat. He don’t look like a Republican to me. He looks
- like a regular secessionist Democrat and there is going to be a contest
- this fall for the nomination for state senator. W B. Grady and the whole
- smelting outfit are going to back this man Carlisle and I am going to beat
- him. And say—old man—” he smiled at Roderick when he
- said this and slapped him on the shoulder familiarly—“I want
- you on my side.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said Roderick, half embarrassed and hesitatingly,
- “I guess I am getting into politics pretty lively among other
- things. I don’t see at this moment why I should not be on your side.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, come and see me at my office over at Encampment and we will
- talk this matter over.” And so it was agreed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then they heard singing, so they threw their cigarettes away and went
- back to the ballroom. A quartet of voices accompanied on the piano by Gail
- Holden were giving a selection from the Bohemian Girl. Whitley Adams was
- hovering near Miss Holden, and insisted on turning the music At the close
- of the number Whitley requested that Mr. Warfield should sing. Everyone
- joined in the invitation; it was a surprise to his western friends that he
- was musical. Reluctantly Roderick complied, and proving himself possessed
- of a splendid baritone voice, delighted everyone by singing “Forgotten”
- and one or two other old-time melodies. Among many others, Dorothy,
- Barbara, and Grant Jones, who had now put in an appearance, overwhelmed
- him with congratulations. Gail Holden, too, who had been his accompanist,
- quietly but none the less warmly, complimented him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then Gail herself was prevailed upon to sing. As she resumed her seat at
- the piano, she glanced at Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know ‘The Rosary’.” she asked in a low
- voice unheard by the others.
- </p>
- <p>
- “One of my favorites,” he answered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then will you help me with a second?” she added, as she
- spread open the sheet of music.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll be honored,” he responded, taking his place by her
- side.
- </p>
- <p>
- Her rich contralto voice swelled forth like the sweeping fullness of a
- distant church organ, and Roderick softly and sweetly blended his tones
- with hers. Under the player’s magic touch the piano with its deep
- resonant chords added to the perfect harmony of the two voices. The
- interpretation was wonderful; the listeners were spellbound, and there
- followed an interval of tense stillness after the last whispered notes had
- died away.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Gail rose and stood before him, she looked into Roderick’s eyes.
- Her cheeks were flushed, she was enveloped in the mystery of song, carried
- away by music’s subtle power. Roderick too was exalted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Superb,” he murmured ecstatically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks to you,” she replied in a low voice and with a little
- bow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then the buzz of congratulations was all around them. During that brief
- moment, even in the crowded ballroom they had been alone—soul had
- spoken to soul. But now the tension was relaxed. Gail was laughing
- merrily. Whitley Adams was punching Roderick in the ribs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, old man, that’s taking another mean advantage.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean?” asked Roderick, recovering his composure.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Singing duets like that isn’t toeing the line. The start was
- to be a fair one, but you’re laps ahead already.” Whitley was
- looking with comical dolefulness in the direction of Gail Holden.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I catch your drift,” laughed Roderick. “Well, you
- brought the trouble on yourself, my boy. It was you who gave me away by
- declaring I could sing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which shows the folly of paying a false compliment,” retorted
- Whitley. “However, I’m going to get another dance anyhow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He made a step toward Gail, but Roderick laid a detaining hand on his
- shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not just yet; the next is mine.” And with audacity that
- amazed himself Roderick advanced to Gail, bowed, and offered his arm. The
- soft strains of a dreamy waltz had just begun.
- </p>
- <p>
- Without a word she accepted his invitation, and together they floated away
- among the maze of dancers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that’s going some,” murmured Whitley, as he
- glanced around in quest of consolation. Dorothy Shields appeared to be
- monopolized by Grant Jones, but the two lawyers, Eragdon and Carlisle,
- were glowering at each other, as if in defiance as to which should carry
- off Barbara. So Whitley solved the problem by sailing in and appropriating
- her for himself. He was happy, she seemed pleased, and the rivals, turning
- away from each other, had the cold consolation that neither had profited
- by the other’s momentary hesitation.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the first few rounds Roderick opened a conversation with his
- partner. He felicitated her upon her playing and singing. She thanked him
- and said: “Most heartily can I return the compliment.” He
- bowed his acknowledgment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must come to Conchshell ranch and call on my father. He will be
- glad to meet you—has been an invalid all the winter, but I’m
- thankful he is better now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll be honored and delighted to make his acquaintance,”
- replied Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then perhaps we can have some more singing together,” she
- went on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which will be a great pleasure to me,” he interjected
- fervently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And to me,” she said, smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whether listening or speaking there was something infinitely charming
- about Gail Holden. When conversing her beautiful teeth reminded one of a
- cupid’s mouth full of pearls.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It has been some time,” explained Roderick, “since I
- was over your way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For a moment their eyes met and she mischievously replied;
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes. Next time, I’ll not only sing for you, but if you
- wish I will teach you how to throw the lariat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t presume,” replied Roderick banteringly, “you
- will guarantee what I might catch even if I turned out to be an expert?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That,” Gail quickly rejoined, “rests entirely with your
- own cleverness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then it was announced from the dining room that the tables with the
- evening collation were spread, and as Roderick was about to offer his arm
- to Miss Holden, Barbara came hurriedly up, flushed and saying: “Oh,
- Gail, here is Mr. Carlisle who wants to take you to supper. And Mr.
- Warfield, you are to escort me.” She smiled triumphantly up into his
- face as she took his arm.
- </p>
- <p>
- As they walked away together and Barbara was vivaciously talking to him,
- he wondered what it all meant Everybody seemed to be playing at cross
- purposes. Again he thought of the letter of warning pushed under Grant
- Jones’ door and mentally speculated how it would all end.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XV.—BRONCHO-BUSTING
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS the morning
- following the big entertainment at the Shields ranch when Roderick and two
- other cowboy companions began the work of breaking some outlaw horses to
- the saddle. The corral where they were confined was a quarter of a mile
- away from the bunk house.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones had remained overnight, ostensibly to pay Roderick a visit
- during the succeeding day. He was still sound asleep when Roderick arose
- at an early hour and started for the corral. Whitley Adams had also been
- detained at the ranch house as a guest. He had invited himself to the
- broncho-busting spectacle, and was waiting on the veranda for Roderick as
- the latter strolled by.
- </p>
- <p>
- An unbroken horse may or may not be an outlaw. If he takes kindly to the
- bridle and saddle and, after the first flush of scared excitement is over
- with, settles down and becomes bridle-wise then he is not an outlaw. On
- the other hand when put to the test if he begins to rear up—thump
- down on his forefeet—buck and twist like a corkscrew and continues
- jumping sideways and up and down, bucking and rearing until possibly he
- falls over backward, endangering the life of his rider and continues in
- this ungovernable fashion until finally he is given up as unbreakable,
- why, then the horse is an outlaw. He feels that he has conquered man, and
- the next attempt to break him to the saddle will be fraught with still
- greater viciousness.
- </p>
- <p>
- Bull-dogging a wild Texas steer is nothing compared with the skill
- necessary to conquer an outlaw pony.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nearly all cowboy riders, take to broncho-busting naturally and
- good-naturedly, and they usually find an especial delight in assuring the
- Easterner that they have never found anything that wears hair they cannot
- ride. Of course, this is more or less of a cowboy expression and possibly
- borders on vanity. However, as a class, they are not usually inclined to
- boast.
- </p>
- <p>
- Very excellent progress had been made in the work of breaking the bronchos
- to the saddle. It was along about eleven o’clock when Roderick had
- just made his last mount upon what seemed to be one of the most docile
- ponies in the corral. He was a three-year-old and had been given the name
- of Firefly. The wranglers or helpers had no sooner loosened the blindfold
- than Roderick realized he was on the hurricane deck of a pony that would
- probably give him trouble. When Firefly felt the weight of Roderick upon
- his back, apparently he was stunned to such an extent that he was filled
- with indecision as to what he should do and began trembling and settling
- as if he might go to his knees. Roderick touched his flank with a sharp
- spur and then, with all the suddenness of a flash of lightning from a
- clear sky, rider and horse became the agitated center of a whirling cloud
- of dust. The horse seemingly would stop just long enough in his corkscrew
- whirls to jump high in the air and light on his forefeet with his head
- nearly on the ground and then with instantaneous quickness rear almost
- upright Whitley Adams was terribly scared at the scene. The struggle
- lasted perhaps a couple of minutes, and then Roderick was whirled over the
- head of the pony and with a shrill neigh Firefly dashed across the corral
- and leaping broke through a six foot fence and galloped away over the open
- prairie. The two wranglers and Whitley hastened to Roderick’s side.
- He had been stunned but only temporarily and not seriously injured, as it
- proved.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that’s all right,” he said presently as he rubbed
- his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you hurt?” Whitley inquired. Roderick slowly rose to his
- feet with Whitley’s assistance and stretching himself looked about
- as if a bit dazed. “No, no,” he replied, “I am not hurt
- but that infernal horse has my riding saddle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You had better learn to ride a rocking horse before trying to ride
- an outlaw, Warfield,” said Scotty Meisch, one of the new
- cowpunchers, sneeringly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick whirled on him. “I’ll take you on for a contest most
- any day, if you think you are so good and I am so poor as all that,”
- he said. “Come on, what do you say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I ride in the Frontier Day’s celebration that comes on
- in July at our local fair,” the cowboy said. “Guess if you
- want to ride in a real contest with me you’d better enter your name
- and we’ll see how long you last.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, I’ll just do that for once and show you a little
- something about real roughriding,” said Roderick; “and Firefly
- will be one of the outlaws.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Turning he limped off towards the bunk house with Whitley.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley was greatly relieved that Roderick, although he had wrenched the
- tendons of his leg, had no broken bones. A couple of other cowboys mounted
- their ponies, and with lariats started off across the prairie to capture
- the outlaw and bring back the saddle. Whitley was assured that they were
- breaking horses all the time and now and then the boys got hold of an
- outlaw but no one was ever very seriously injured.
- </p>
- <p>
- Reaching the lounging room of the bunk house, they learned that Grant was
- up and dressed. He had evidently gone up to the ranch house and at that
- very moment was doubtless basking in the smiles of Miss Dorothy.
- </p>
- <p>
- The college chums, pipes alight, soon got to talking of old times.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the way,” remarked Whitley between puffs, “last
- month I was back at the class reunion at Galesburg and called on Stella
- Rain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick reddened and Whitley went blandly on: “Mighty fine girl—I
- mean Stella. Finest college widow ever. I did not know you were the lucky
- dog, though?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean by my being the lucky dog?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you were always smitten in that quarter—everyone knew
- that. And now those tell-tale flushes on your face, together with what
- Stella said, makes it all clear. Congratulations, old man,” said
- Whitley, laughing good-naturedly at Roderick’s discomfiture.
- </p>
- <p>
- As their hands met, Roderick said: “I don’t know, old chap,
- whether congratulations are in order or not. She don’t write as
- often as she used to. It don’t argue very well for me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Man alive,” said Whitley, “what do you want with a
- college widow or a battalion of college widows when you are among such
- girls as you have out here? Great Scott, don’t you realize that
- these girls are the greatest ever? Grant Jones shows his good sense; he
- seems to have roped Miss Dorothy for sure. At first I thought I had your
- measure last night, when you were talking to Miss Barbara Shields—for
- the moment I had forgotten about Stella. Then you switched off and cut me
- out with the fair singer. Say, if somebody don’t capture Miss Gail
- Holden—”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused, puffed awhile, then resumed meditatively: “Why, old man,
- down in Keokuk Gail Holden wouldn’t last a month. Someone would pick
- her up in a jiffy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Provided,” said Roderick, and looked steadily at Whitley.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, of course, provided he could win her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “These western girls, I judge,” said Roderick slowly—“understand
- I am not speaking from experience—are pretty hard to win. There is a
- freedom in the very atmosphere of the West that thrills a fellow’s
- nerves and suggests the widest sort of independence. And our range girls
- are pronouncedly independent, unless I have them sized up wrong. Tell me,”
- he continued, “how you feel about Miss Holden?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” replied Whitley, “I knew ahead that she was a
- stunning girl, and after that first waltz I felt withered all in a heap.
- But when I saw and heard you singing together at the piano, I realized
- what was bound to come. Oh, you needn’t blush so furiously. You’ve
- got to forget a certain party down at Galesburg. As for me, I’ve got
- to fly at humbler game. Guess I’ll have another look around.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He laughed somewhat wistfully, as he rose and knocked the ashes from the
- bowl of his pipe.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick had not interrupted; he was becoming accustomed to others
- deciding for him his matrimonial affairs. He was musing over the
- complications that seemed to be crowding into his life.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see I retire from the contest,” Whitley went on, his
- smile broadening, “and I hope you’ll recognize the devoted
- loyalty of a friend. But now those Shields girls—one or other of
- them—both are equally charming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can’t cut Grant Jones out,” interrupted Roderick
- firmly. “Remember, next to yourself, he’s my dearest friend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, well, there’s Miss Barbara left. Now don’t you
- think I would be quite irresistible as compared with either of those
- lawyer fellows?” He drew himself up admiringly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You might be liable to get your hide shot full of holes,”
- replied Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean?”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Roderick did not explain his enigmatic utterance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think I’ll have a lay-down,” he said, “and rest
- my stiff bones.” He got up; he said nothing to Whitley, but the
- bruised leg pained him considerably.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” replied Whitley gaily. “Then I’ll do
- a little further reconnoitering up at the ranch house. So long.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Warfield was glad to be alone. Apart from the pain he was suffering, he
- wanted to think things over. He was not blind to the truth that Gail
- Holden had brought a new interest into his life. Yet he was half saddened
- by the thought that almost a month had gone by without a letter from
- Stella Rain. Then Whitley’s coming had brought back memories of
- Uncle Allen, Aunt Lois, and the old days at Keokuk. He was feeling very
- homesick—utterly tired of the rough cow-punching existence he had
- been leading for over six months.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVI.—THE MYSTERIOUS TOILERS OF THE NIGHT
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>N A day or two the
- excitement over the great evening party at the Shields ranch had passed
- and the humdrum duties of everyday life had been resumed. Whitley Adams
- had completed his business at Encampment and taken his departure with the
- solemnly renewed promise to Roderick that for the present the latter’s
- whereabouts would not be disclosed to the good folks at Keokuk although
- their anxiety as to his safety and good health would be relieved. Grant
- Jones had torn himself away from his beloved to resume his eternal—and
- as he felt at the moment infernal—task of getting out the next issue
- of his weekly newspaper. Gail Holden had ridden off over the foothills,
- the Shields sisters had returned to their domestic duties, and all the
- other beauties of the ballroom had scattered far and wide like thistledown
- in a breeze. The cowboys had reverted to chaps and sombreros, dress
- clothes had been stowed away with moth balls to keep them company, and the
- language of superlative politeness had lapsed back into the terser
- vernacular of the stock corral. Roderick was pretty well alone all day in
- the bunk house, nursing the stiff leg that had resulted from the
- broncho-busting episode.
- </p>
- <p>
- Between embrocations he was doing a little figuring and stock-taking of
- ways and means. During his six months on the ranch most of his salary had
- been saved. The accumulated amount would enable him to clear off one-half
- of his remaining indebtedness in New York and leave him a matter of a
- hundred dollars for some prospecting on his own account during the summer
- months among the hills. But he would stay by his job for yet another month
- or two, because, although the words had been spoken in the heat of the
- moment, he had pledged himself to meet the cowboy Scotty Meisch in the
- riding contest at the Frontier Day’s celebration. Yes, he would
- stick to that promise, he mused as he rubbed in the liniment Gail Holden,
- when she had come to bid him good-by and express her condolence over his
- accident, had announced her own intention of entering for the lariat
- throwing competition, but he would never have admitted to himself that the
- chance of meeting her again in such circumstances, the chance of restoring
- his prestige as a broncho-buster before her very eyes, had the slightest
- thing to do with his resolve to delay his start in systematic quest of the
- lost mine.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile Buell Hampton seemed to have withdrawn himself from the world.
- During the two weeks that had intervened between the invitation and the
- dance, he had not called at the ranch. Nor did he come now during the
- weeks that followed, and one evening when Grant Jones paid a visit to the
- Major’s home he found the door locked. Grant surveyed with both
- surprise and curiosity the addition that had been made to the building. It
- was a solid structure of logs, showing neither door nor window to the
- outside, and evidently was only reached through the big living room.
- </p>
- <p>
- He reported the matter to Roderick, but the latter, his stiff leg now all
- right again, was too busy among the cattle on the ranges to bother about
- other things.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Buell Hampton all this time had been very active indeed. During the
- winter months he had thought out his plans. Somehow he had come to look
- upon the hidden valley with its storehouse of golden wealth as a sacred
- place not to be trespassed on by the common human drove. Just so soon as
- the melting snows rendered the journey practicable, he had returned all
- alone to the sequestered nook nested in the mountains. He had discovered
- that quite a little herd of deer had found shelter and subsistence there
- during the months of winter. As he came among them, they had shown,
- themselves quite tame and fearless; three or four does had nibbled the
- fresh spring grass almost at his very feet as he had sat on the porphyry
- dyke, enjoying the beautiful scene, alone in his little kingdom, with only
- these gentle creatures and the twittering birds for companions.
- </p>
- <p>
- And there and then Buell Hampton had resolved that he would not desecrate
- this sanctuary of nature—that he would not bring in the brutal eager
- throng of gold seekers, changing the lovely little valley into a scene of
- sordid greed and ugliness, its wild flowers crushed underfoot, its
- pellucid stream turned to sludge, its rightful inhabitants, the
- gentle-eyed deer, butchered for riotous gluttony. No, never! He would take
- the rich God-given gift of gold that was his, gratefully and for the
- ulterior purpose of spreading human happiness. But all else he would leave
- undisturbed.
- </p>
- <p>
- The gold-bearing porphyry dyke stretching across the narrow valley was
- decomposed; it required no drilling nor blasting; its bulk could easily be
- broken by aid of sledge hammer and crowbar. Two or three men working
- steadily for two or three months could remove the entire dyke as it lay
- visible between mountain rock wall and mountain rock wall, and taking the
- assay value of the ore as already ascertained, from this operation alone
- there was wealth for all interested beyond the dreams of avarice. Buell
- Hampton debated the issues all through that afternoon of solitude spent in
- the little canyon. And when he regained his home he had arrived at a fixed
- resolution. He would win the treasure but he would save the valley—he
- would keep it a hidden valley still.
- </p>
- <p>
- Next evening he had Tom Sun, Boney Earnest and Jim Rankin all assembled in
- secret conclave. While the aid of Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would
- be called in later on, for the present their services would not be
- required. So for the present likewise there would be nothing more said to
- them—the fewer in the “know” the safer for all
- concerned.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was agreed that Tom Sun, Jim Rankin and the Major would bring out the
- ore. Jim was to hire a substitute to drive his stage, while Tom Sun would
- temporarily hand over the care of his flocks to his manager and herders.
- Boney Earnest could not leave his work at the smelter—his duties
- there were so responsible that any sudden withdrawal might have stopped
- operations entirely and so caused the publicity all were anxious to avoid.
- But as he did not go to the plant on Sundays, his active help would be
- available each Saturday night. Thus the plans were laid.
- </p>
- <p>
- But although Buell Hampton had allied himself with these helpers in his
- work and participants in the spoil, he yet guarded from them the exact
- locality of his find. All this was strictly in accordance with goldmining
- usage among the mountains of Wyoming, so the Major offered no apology for
- his precautions, his associates asked for or expected none. Each man
- agreed that he would go blindfolded to the spot where the rich ore was to
- be broken and packed for removal.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus had it come about that, while Buell Hampton seemed to have
- disappeared from the world, all the while he was very busy indeed, and
- great things were in progress. Actual work had commenced some days before
- the dance at the Shields’ home, and it continued steadily in the
- following routine.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major, Tom Sun and Jim Rankin passed most of the day sleeping. At
- night after dark, they would sally forth into the hills, mounted on three
- horses with three pack burros. A few miles away from Encampment the Major
- would blindfold his two assistants, and then they would proceed in
- silence. When they arrived near Spirit Falls the horses and burros would
- be tethered and Major Hampton would lead the way down the embankment to
- the river’s bank, then turn to the left, while Tom Sun, blindfolded,
- extended one hand on Buell Hampton’s shoulder and still behind was
- Jim Rankin with his hand extended on Tom Sun’s shoulder. Thus they
- would make their way to a point back of the waterfall, and then some
- considerable distance into the mountain cavern where the blindfolds were
- removed. With an electric torch the Major lighted the way through the
- grotto into the open valley.
- </p>
- <p>
- A little farther on was the dyke of porphyry, quartz and gold. Here the
- sacks would be filled with the rich ore—their loads all that each
- man could carry. Footsteps were then retraced with the same precautions as
- before.
- </p>
- <p>
- Placing the ore sacks on the backs of their burros, the night riders would
- climb into their saddles and slowly start out on the return journey, the
- Major driving the burros ahead along a mountain path, while Tom Sun and
- Jim Rankin’s horses followed. After they had gone on for a few miles
- Major Hampton would shout back to his assistants to remove the blindfolds,
- and thus they would return to the town of Encampment in the gray dawn of
- morning, unloading their burros at the door of Major Hampton’s
- house. Jim Rankin would take charge of the stock and put them in a stable
- and corral he had prepared down near the banks of the Platte River just
- over the hill. Tom Sun would show his early training by preparing a
- breakfast of ham and eggs and steaming coffee while the Major was placing
- the ore in one hundred pound sacks and carrying them back into the
- blockade addition he had built to his home. He would then lock the heavy
- door connecting the storehouse with the living room.
- </p>
- <p>
- Usually the breakfast was ready by the time the Major had finished his
- part of the work and Jim Rankin had returned. After the morning meal and a
- smoke, these three mysterious workers of the night would lie down to
- sleep, only to repeat the trip the following evening. Each Saturday night,
- as has been explained, Boney Earnest was added to the party, as well as an
- extra horse and burro.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton estimated that each burro was bringing out one hundred
- pounds nightly, or about three hundred pounds every trip for the three
- burros, with an extra hundred pounds on Saturday night. If this ore
- yielded $114.00 per pound, the assay value already paid him, or call it
- $100.00, it meant that he was adding to his storehouse of treasure about
- $220,000.00 as the result of each week’s labors. Thus in three
- months’ time there would be not far short of $3,000,-000.00 worth of
- high grade gold ores accumulated. If reduced to tons this would make
- nearly a full carload when the time came for moving the vast wealth to the
- railroad.
- </p>
- <p>
- One night in the midst of these operations, when Jim Rankin and Tom Sun
- supposed they were on the point of starting on the usual trip into the
- hidden valley, Buell Hampton filled his pipe for an extra smoke and
- invited his two faithful friends to do likewise. “We are not going
- tonight,” said he. “We will have a rest and hold a conference.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good,” said Jim Rankin. “Speakin’ wide open like,
- by gunnies, my old bones are gettin’ to be pretty dangnation sore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Too bad about you,” said Tom Sun. “Too bad that you
- aren’t as young as I am, Jim.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Young, the devil,” returned Jim. “I’m
- prognosticatin’ I have pints about me that’d loco you any time
- good and plenty. ‘Sides you know you are seven years older than me.
- Gosh ‘lmighty, Tom, you an’ me have been together ever since
- we struck this here country mor’n forty years ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Tom laughed and the Major laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was arranged that when the carload was ready Jim Rankin was to rig up
- three four-horse teams and Grant Jones and Roderick Warfield would be
- called on to accompany the whole outfit to Walcott, the nearest town on
- the Union Pacific, where a car would be engaged in advance for the
- shipment of the ore to one of the big smelters at Denver. The strictest
- secrecy would be kept even then, for reasons of safety as well as to
- preserve the privacy desired by Buell Hampton. So they would load up the
- wagons at night and start for the railroad about three o’clock in
- the morning.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus as they smoked and yawned during their night of rest the three men
- discussed and decided every detail of these future plans.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVII—A TROUT FISHING EPISODE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>OR a time Roderick
- had hung back from accepting the invitation to call at the Conchshell
- ranch, as the Holden place was called. In pursuing the acquaintanceship
- with Gail he knew that he was playing with fire—a delightful game
- but one that might work sad havoc with his future peace of mind. However,
- one day when he had an afternoon off and had ridden into Encampment again
- to be disappointed in finding no letter from Stella, he had felt just the
- necessary touch of irritation toward his fiancée that spurred him on to
- seek some diversion from his thoughts of being badly treated and
- neglected. Certainly, he would call on General Holden—he did not say
- to himself that he was bent on seeing Gail again, looking into her
- beautiful eyes, hearing her sing, perhaps joining in a song.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was mounted on his favorite riding horse Badger, a fine bay pony, and
- had followed the road up the North Fork of the Encampment River a number
- of miles. Taking a turn to the left through the timbered country with
- rocky crags towering on either side in loftiest grandeur, he soon reached
- the beautiful plateau where Gail Holden’s home was located. The
- little ranch contained some three hundred acres, and cupped inward like a
- saucer, with a mountain stream traversing from the southerly to the
- northerly edge, where the Conchshell canyon gashed through the rim of the
- plateau and permitted the waters to escape and flow onward and away into
- the North Fork.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick approached the house, which was on a knoll planted with
- splendid firs and pines, he heard Gail singing “Robert Adair.”
- He dismounted and hitched his horse under the shelter of a wide spreading
- oak. Just as he came up the steps to the broad porch Gail happened to see
- him through one of the windows. She ceased her singing and hastened to
- meet him with friendly greeting.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Welcome, Mr. Warfield, thrice welcome, as Papa sometimes says,”
- said Gail, smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” said Roderick, gallantly. “I was riding in
- this direction and concluded to stop in and accept your kind invitation to
- meet the General.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He will be delighted to see you, Mr. Warfield, I have told him
- about your singing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that was making too much of my poor efforts.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all. You see my father is very fond of music—never
- played nor sang in his life, but has always taken keen delight in hearing
- good music. And I tell you he is quite a judge.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which makes me quite determined then not to sing in his presence,”
- laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you can’t get out of it now you’re here. He won’t
- allow it. Nor will I. You won’t refuse to sing for me, will you? Or
- with me?” she added with a winning smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That would be hard indeed to refuse,” he replied, happy yet
- half-reproaching himself for his very happiness.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Daddie is walking around the grounds somewhere at present,”
- continued Gail. “Won’t you step inside and rest, Mr. Warfield?
- He’ll turn up presently.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, this old rustic seat here on the porch looks exceedingly
- comfortable. And I fancy that is your accustomed rocker,” he added,
- pointing to a piece of embroidery, with silk and needles, slung over the
- arm of a chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are a regular Sherlock Holmes,” she laughed. “Well,
- I have been stitching all the afternoon, and just broke off my work for a
- song.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I heard you. Can’t you be persuaded to continue?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at present. We’ll wait till Papa comes. And the weather
- is so delightfully warm that I will take my accustomed rocker—and
- the hint implied as well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again she laughed gaily as she dropped into the commodious chair and
- picked up the little square of linen with its half-completed embroidery.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick took the rustic seat and gazed admiringly over the cup-shaped
- lands that spread out before him like a scroll, with their background of
- lofty mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have a delightful view from here,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Gail, as she threaded one of her needles with a
- strand of crimson. “I know of no other half so beautiful. And it has
- come to be a very haven of peace and happiness. Perhaps you know that my
- father last year lost everything he possessed in the world through an
- unfortunate speculation. But that was nothing—we lost my dear mother
- then as well. This little ranch of Conchshell was the one thing left that
- we could call our own, and here we found our refuge and our consolation.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was speaking very softly, her hands had dropped on her lap, there was
- the glisten of tears in her eyes. Roderick was seeing the daring rider of
- the hills, the acknowledged belle of the ballroom in yet another light,
- and was lost in admiration.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very sad,” he murmured, in conventional commiseration.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, not sad,” she replied brightly, looking up, sunshine
- showing through her tears. “Dear mother is at rest after her long
- illness, father has recovered his health in this glorious mountain air,
- and I have gained a serious occupation in life. Oh, I just love this
- miniature cattle range,” she went on enthusiastically. “Look
- at it”—she swept the landscape with an upraised hand. “Don’t
- all my sweet Jerseys and Hainaults dotted over those meadows look like the
- little animals in a Noah’s ark we used to play with when children?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They do indeed,” concurred Roderick, with heartily responsive
- enthusiasm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And I’m going to make this dairy stock business pay to beat
- the band,” she added, her face fairly aglow. “Just give me
- another year or two.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You certainly deserve success,” affirmed Roderick,
- emphatically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I don’t know. But I do try so hard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her beautiful face had sweet wistfulness in it now. Roderick was admiring
- its swift expressive changes—he was saying to himself that he could
- read the soul of this splendidly frank young woman like a book. He felt
- thrilled and exalted.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But here comes Papa,” exclaimed Gail, springing delightedly
- to her feet
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick’s spirits dropped like a plummet. At such an interesting
- psychological moment he could have wished the old General far enough.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there was a pleasant smile on his face as Gail presented him, genuine
- admiration in the responsive pressure of his hand as he gazed into the
- veteran’s handsome countenance and thanked him for his cordial
- welcome.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Glad to meet you, Mr. Warfield,” General Holden was saying.
- “My friend Shields has spoken mighty well of you, and Gail here says
- you have the finest baritone voice in all Wyoming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Daddie!” cried Gail, in blushing confusion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I’m going to decide for myself. Come right in. We’ll
- have a song while Gail makes us a cup of tea. An old soldier’s song
- for a start—she won’t be listening, so I can suit myself this
- time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And Roderick to his bewilderment found himself clutched by the arm, and
- being led indoors to the piano like a lamb to the slaughter. Gail had
- disappeared, and he was actually warbling “Marching through Georgia,”
- aided by a thunderous chorus from the General.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As we go marching through Georgia,” echoed Gail, when at the
- close of the song she advanced from the domestic quarters with sprightly
- military step, carrying high aloft a tea tray laden with dainty china and
- gleaming silverware.
- </p>
- <p>
- All laughed heartily, and a delightful afternoon was initiated—tea
- and cake, solos and duets, intervals of pleasant conversation, a Schubert
- sonata by Gail, and a rendition by Roderick of the Soldiers’ Chorus
- from Faust that fairly won the old General’s heart.
- </p>
- <p>
- The hours had sped like a dream, and it was in the sunset glow that
- Roderick, having declined a pressing invitation to stay for dinner, was
- bidding Gail good-by. She had stepped down from the veranda and was
- standing by his horse admiring it and patting its silky coat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the way, you mentioned at the Shields’ party that you
- expected to go trout fishing, Mr. Warfield. Did you have good luck?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick confessed that as yet he had not treated himself to a day’s
- sport with the finny tribe. “I was thinking about it this very
- morning,” he went on, “and was wondering if I had not better
- secure a companion—someone skilled with rod and reel and fly to go
- with me, as I am a novice.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’ll go with you,” she exclaimed quickly. “Would
- be glad to do so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s mighty kind of you, Miss Holden,” replied
- Roderick, half hesitatingly, while a smile played about his handsome face.
- “But since you put it that way I would be less than courteous if I
- did not eagerly and enthusiastically accept. When shall we go?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You name the day,” said Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick leaned hastily forward and placing one hand on his heart said
- with finely assumed gallantry: “I name the day?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you know quite well I do not mean that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She laughed gaily, but all the same a little blush had stolen into her
- cheeks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thought it was the fair lady’s privilege to name the day,”
- said Roderick, mischievously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said Gail, soberly, “we will go trout
- fishing tomorrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is settled,” said Roderick. “What hour is your
- pleasure?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it is better,” replied Gail, “to go early in the
- morning or late in the evening. Personally I prefer the morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, I will be here and saddle Fleetfoot for you, say, at
- seven tomorrow morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so it was agreed.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was only when he was cantering along the roadway toward home that
- Roderick remembered how Barbara Shields had on several occasions invited
- him to go trout fishing with her, but in some way circumstances had always
- intervened to postpone the expedition. In Gail’s case, however,
- every obstacle seemed to have been swept aside—he had never even
- thought of asking Mr. Shields for the morning off. However, that would be
- easily arranged, so he rode on in blissful contentment and happy
- anticipation for the morrow.
- </p>
- <p>
- The next morning at the appointed time found him at Conchshell ranch.
- Before he reached the house he discovered Fleetfoot saddled and bridled
- standing at the gate.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail came down the walk as he approached and a cheery good-morning was
- followed by their at once mounting their horses and following a roadway
- that led eastward to the South Fork of the Encampment River.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You brought your flies, Mr. Warfield?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes,” replied Roderick. “I have plenty of flies—both
- hackle and coachman. These have been specially recommended to me, but as I
- warned you last night I am a novice and don’t know much about them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I sometimes use the coachman,” said Gail, “although,
- like yourself, I am not very well up on the entomology of fly fishing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon the road led them away from the open valley into a heavy timber that
- crowned the westerly slope of the river. They soon arrived at their
- destination. Dismounting they quickly tethered their horses. Gail
- unfastened her hip boots from back of her saddle, and soon her bifurcated
- bloomer skirts were tucked away in the great rubber boots and duly
- strapped about her slender waist. Roderick was similarly equipped with
- wading boots, and after rods, lines and flies had been carefully adjusted
- they turned to the river. The mountains with their lofty rocky ledges—the
- swift running waters rippling and gurgling over the rocky bed of the river—the
- beautiful forests that rose up on either side, of pine and spruce and
- cottonwood, the occasional whistle and whirr of wild birds—the balmy
- morning air filled life to overflowing for these two disciples of Izaak
- Walton bent upon filling their baskets with brook and rainbow trout.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The stream is sufficiently wide,” observed Gail, “so we
- can go downstream together. You go well toward the west bank and I will
- hug the east bank.” Roderick laughed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you laughing at?” asked Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I was just sorry I am not the east bank.” The
- exhilarating mountain air had given him unwonted audacity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are a foolish fellow,” said Gail—“at least
- sometimes. Usually I think you are awfully nice.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you think we had better fish,” asked Roderick,
- whimsically, “or talk this matter over?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail looked very demure and very determined.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You go right on with your fishing and do as I do, Mr. Roderick
- Warfield. Remember, I’m the teacher.” She stamped her little
- booted foot, and then waded into the water and cast her fly far down
- stream. “See how I cast my line.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know a whole lot about fishing, don’t you?” asked
- Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, I ought to. During occasional summer visits to the ranch I
- have fished in these waters ever so many times. You must not talk too
- much,” she added in a lower voice. “Trout are very alert, you
- know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “If fish could hear as well as see
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Never a fish would there be—
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- in our baskets.” And she laughed softly at this admonition for
- Roderick to fish and cease badinage.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which way is the wind?” asked Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is none,” replied Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “When the wind is from the North
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- The skilful fisherman goes not forth,”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- quoted Roderick. “Don’t that prove I know something about
- fishing—I mean fly fishing?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have a much better way to prove your sport-manship,”
- insisted Gail. “The fish are all around you and your basket is
- hanging empty from your shoulder.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rebuked and chided,” exclaimed Roderick, softly.
- </p>
- <p>
- They continued to cast and finally Gail said: “I have a Marlow Buzz
- on my hook.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is that?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, it is a species of the Brown Palmer fly. I like them better
- than the hackle although the coachman may be equally as good. Look out!”
- she suddenly exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick turned round quickly and saw her line was taut, cutting the water
- sharply to the right and to the left while her rod was bent like a bow.
- She quickly loosened her reel which hummed like a song of happiness while
- her line sliced the waters like a knife.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess you have a rainbow,” cried Roderick excitedly, but Gail
- paid no attention to his remark.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently the trout leaped from the water and fell back again, then
- attempted to dart away; but the slack of line was not sufficient for the
- captive to break from the hook.
- </p>
- <p>
- The trout finally ceased its fight, and a moment later was lifted safely
- from the water and landed in Gail’s net. But even now it continued
- to prove itself a veritable circus performer, giving an exhibition of
- flopping, somersaulting, reversed handsprings—if a fish could do
- such things—with astonishing rapidity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bravo,” shouted Roderick, as Gail finally released the hook
- and deposited the fish in her basket.
- </p>
- <p>
- Less than a minute later Roderick with all the enthusiasm and zeal
- imaginable was letting out his reel and holding his line taut, for he,
- too, had been rewarded. And soon he had proudly deposited his first catch
- of the day in his fish basket.
- </p>
- <p>
- On they went down the river, over riffles and into deep pools where the
- water came well up above their knees; but, nothing daunted, these
- fishermen kept going until the sun was well up in the eastern sky. At last
- Gail halloed and said: “Say, Mr. Warfield, my basket is almost full
- and I am getting hungry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” said Roderick, “we will retrace our steps.
- There is a pretty good path along the east bank.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How many have you?” asked Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Twenty-six,” replied Roderick as he scrambled up the bank.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have thirty-one,” said Gail, enthusiastically.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick approached the bank, and reaching down helped her to a footing on
- the well-beaten path. Then they started up-stream for their horses.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was almost eleven o’clock when they arrived at their point of
- departure and had removed their wading boots. Gail went to her saddle and
- unlashed a little luncheon basket.
- </p>
- <p>
- She utilized a large tree stump for a table, and after it had been covered
- with a napkin and the dainty luncheon of boned chicken, sardines and
- crackers had been set forth, she called to Roderick and asked him to fill
- a pair of silver collapsible drinking cups which she handed to him. He
- went to the brook and returned with the ice-cold mountain vintage.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am just hungry enough,” said Gail, “to enjoy this
- luncheon although it is not a very sumptuous repast.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick smiled as he took a seat upon the felled tree.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Expect you think you will inveigle me into agreeing with you. But
- not on your life. I would enjoy such a luncheon as this any time, even if
- I were not hungry. But in the present circumstances—well, I will let
- you pass judgment upon my appetite after we have eaten.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “As they say on the long army marches in the books,” said
- Gail, gaily, “I guess we had better fall to.” And forthwith
- with much merriment and satisfaction over their morning’s catch they
- proceeded to dispose of the comestibles.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was only a little after noon when they reached the Conchshell ranch,
- and soon thereafter Roderick’s pony was galloping along the road on
- his homeward way. He had never enjoyed such a morning in all his life.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XVIII.—A COUNTRY FAIR ON THE FRONTIER
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HERE was great
- excitement among the bunch of cowboys on the Shields’ ranch when the
- local newspapers came out with startling headlines and full announcements
- in regard to the annual frontier celebration. That night every line of the
- full page advertisements, also the columns of editorial elaborations on
- the contests and other events, were read aloud to an eager assemblage of
- all hands in front of the bunk house.
- </p>
- <p>
- The <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> predicted that this year’s celebration
- would undoubtedly afford the greatest Wild West show ever witnessed
- outside of a regular circus display organized as a money-making
- undertaking. Everything was going to be just the real thing—the
- miners’ drilling contest, the roping competition, the
- bucking-broncho features, and so on. More than a score of outlaw horses
- that had thrown every cow-puncher who ever attempted to ride them had
- already been engaged. The <i>Doublejack</i> further declared that the
- tournament would be both for glory and for bags of yellow gold, with World’s
- Championships to the best rider, to the best bucking broncho buster, to
- the best trick roper, to the fastest cowpony, and to the most daring and
- lucky participant in the bull-dogging of wild steers.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the columns of the Encampment <i>Herald</i> special attention was drawn
- to the fact that in the rough riding and outlaw bucking contest for the
- world’s championship there was a purse of $1,000 to be divided—$450
- for first prize, $300 second prize, $150 third prize and $100 fourth
- prize, while in addition Buck Henry, the banker, offered a $200
- championship saddle to the rider who took first place. It was also
- announced that the fair association would pay $50 in cash for every horse
- brought to the grounds that was sufficiently unmanageable to throw every
- rider; each participant to ride any horse and as often as the judges might
- deem necessary to determine the winner; chaps and spurs to be worn by the
- riders, and leather pulling would disqualify.
- </p>
- <p>
- Both papers referred to the band concerts as a feature of great interest
- throughout the three days of the fair. Everything was to be decorated in
- colors—red and green, black and yellow, blue and white, pink and
- scarlet—from the grandstand down to the peanut boy. The race track
- was fast and in excellent condition, and everything would be in readiness
- at the appointed time.
- </p>
- <p>
- After each item of news was read out there was a buzz of comment among the
- assembled cowboys, challenges were made, bets freely offered and accepted.
- As the gathering dispersed Roderick Warfield and Scotty Meisch exchanged
- significant glances but spoke no word—they had been as strangers to
- each other ever since their fierce quarrel on the morning of the
- broncho-busting exercises. Roderick was glad that the day was near at hand
- when the fellow would be made to eat his words. And with the thought also
- came thoughts of Gail Holden. Gee, but it would be fine to see her ride in
- such a contest of nerve and skill!
- </p>
- <p>
- At last the eventful morning dawned and the people swarmed into Encampment
- from all the surrounding country. They came from far below Saratoga to the
- north. The entire Platte Valley from as far south as the Colorado state
- line and beyond were on hand. In fact, from all over the state and even
- beyond its confines the whole population moved in to participate in this
- great frontier day celebration. A crowd came over from Steamboat Springs
- and brought with them the famous outlaw horse Steamboat, who had never
- been ridden although he had thrown at least a dozen cowpunchers of highest
- renown.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the programmes were distributed, Firefly was found upon the list of
- outlaw horses, and also to the surprise of many of his friends the name of
- Roderick Warfield appeared as one of the contestants in both the
- bull-dogging and bucking broncho events.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a veritable Mecca of delight for the miners in their drilling
- contests and for the cowboys in their dare-devil riding of outlaw horses—testing
- their prowess and skill in conquering the seemingly unconquerable. The
- lassoing of fleet-footed and angry cattle, the bull-dogging of wild steers
- gathered up from different parts of the country because of their
- reputation for long horns and viciousness, were spectacles to challenge
- the admiration of the immense throng seated in the grandstand and on the
- bleachers.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was just ten o’clock on the morning of the first day when the
- judges sounded the gong and started the series of contests. The first
- event was a cow-pony race, with no restriction as to the sex of the
- riders. Ponies were to be fourteen hands two inches or under. There were
- seven starters. Up in one corner of the grandstand sat Grant Jones
- surrounded by a bevy of beautiful girls. Among them of course was Dorothy
- Shields. All were in a flutter of excitement over the race that was about
- to be run; for Gail Holden was among the contestants.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail Holden, quiet, unassuming, yet full of determination, looked a
- veritable queen as she sat her pony Fleetfoot clad in soft silk
- shirtwaist, gray divided skirt, and gray soft felt hat. With a tremor of
- delight Roderick noticed that she wore on her sleeve as her colors one of
- his college arm-bands, which he had given her when calling at the
- Conchshell ranch one evening after the trout fishing expedition.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last the bell sounded and the word “Go” was given. A shout
- went up from the grandstand—“They’re off—they’re
- off.” And away the seven horses dashed—-four men and three
- lady riders. At the moment of starting Gail had flung her hat to the
- winds. She used no quirt but held her pony free to the right and in the
- open. It was a half-mile track and the race was for one mile. When they
- swept down past the grandstand on the first lap Fleetfoot had gained third
- place. A pandemonium of shouts went up as the friends of each madly yelled
- to the riders to urge their mounts to greater speed. At the far turn it
- was noticed that Fleetfoot was running almost neck and neck with the two
- leaders, and then as they came up the stretch, running low, it seemed as
- if the race would finish in a dead heat between all three ponies.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then Gail reached down and was seen to pat her pony upon the neck and
- evidently was talking to him. Fleetfoot leaned forward as if fired with
- fierce determination to comply with her request for still greater effort
- His muscles seemed to be retensioned. He began creeping away inch by inch
- from his adversaries, and amid the plaudits and shouts of the people in
- the grandstand and bleachers, who rose to their feet waving handkerchiefs
- and hats in a frenzy of tumultuous approval, Gail’s horse passed
- first under the wire—winner by a short head, was the judges’
- verdict.
- </p>
- <p>
- The second feature was a great drilling contest of the miners from the
- surrounding hills. There were twelve pairs of contestants, and Grant Jones
- became wild with excitement when friends of his from Dillon were awarded
- the championship.
- </p>
- <p>
- And thus event followed event until the day’s program was completed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail and Roderick were bidding each other goodnight at the gateway of the
- enclosure.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I owe you my very special thanks,” he said as he held her
- hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What for?” she enquired.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For wearing my old college arm-band in the pony race.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” said Gail, blushing slightly, “I had to have
- something to keep my sleeve from coming down too far on my wrist Besides
- they are pretty colors, aren’t they?”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Roderick was not going to be sidetracked by any such naive
- questioning.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I refuse pointblank,” he answered, smiling, “to accept
- any excuse for your wearing the badge. I insist it was a compliment to me
- and shall interpret it in no other way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her blush deepened, but she made no further protest. General Holden had
- approached. She turned and took his arm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Until tomorrow then,” exclaimed Roderick, raising his hat to
- both father and daughter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Until tomorrow,” she quietly responded.
- </p>
- <p>
- The morrow brought resumption of the tournament. Gail Holden was to
- display her prowess in throwing the lariat, while Roderick had entered his
- name in the bull-dogging event.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the roping contest Gail was the only lady contestant. The steers were
- given a hundred feet of start, and then the ropers, swinging their
- lariats, started after them in a mad gallop.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail was again mounted on Fleet foot, and if anything ever looked like
- attempting an impossibility it was for this slender girl with her neatly
- gloved little hands, holding a lariat in the right and the reins of the
- pony in her left, to endeavor to conquer and hogtie a three-year-old steer
- on the run. And yet, undismayed she undertook to accomplish this very
- thing. When the word was given she dashed after the fleeing
- three-year-old, and then as if by magic the lariat sprang away from her in
- a graceful curve and fell cleverly over the horns of the steer.
- Immediately Fleetfoot set himself for the shock he well knew was coming.
- </p>
- <p>
- The steer’s momentum was so suddenly arrested that it was thrown to
- the ground. Gail sprang from the saddle, and the trained pony as he backed
- away kept the lariat taut. Thus was the steer hogtied by Gail’s
- slender hands in 55 3/5 seconds from the time the word was given.
- </p>
- <p>
- All of the lassoers had been more or less successful, but the crowd stood
- up and yelled in wildest enthusiasm, and waved their hats and
- handkerchiefs, as the time for this marvelous feat by Gail was announced
- from the judges’ stand.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the afternoon the bull-dogging contest was reached, and Grant Jones
- said to those about him: “Now get ready for some thrills and
- breathless moments.”
- </p>
- <p>
- When the word was given a wild long-horned steer came rushing down past
- the grandstand closely followed by a cowboy on his fleet and nimble pony.
- In the corral were perhaps a score of steers and there was a cowboy rider
- ready for each of them. Four or five steers were bull-dogged one after the
- other. Some had been quickly thrown to the ground by the athletic cowboys
- amid the plaudits of the onlookers. But one had proven too strong for the
- skill and quickness of his adversary, and after rather severely injuring
- the intrepid youthful gladiator rushed madly on down the race track.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently Roderick Warfield came into view astride his favorite pony,
- Badger, riding at full tilt down the race course, chasing a huge
- cream-colored steer with wide-spread horns, cruelly sharp and
- dangerous-looking. As horse and steer came abreast Roderick’s
- athletic form swayed in his saddle for a moment, and then like a flash he
- was seen to leap on to the steer’s back and reaching forward grab
- the animal’s horns. An instant later he had swung his muscular body
- to the ground in front of his sharp homed adversary and brought him to an
- abrupt halt.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail Holden’s face grew pale as she watched the scene from among a
- group of her girl friends on the grandstand.
- </p>
- <p>
- The object of the bull-dogging contest is to twist the neck of the steer
- and throw him to the ground. But Roderick accomplished more. The steer
- lifted him once from the ground, and the great throng of people on the
- grandstand and bleachers, also the hundreds who had been unable to obtain
- seating accommodation and were standing along the rails, held their breath
- in bated silence. The powerful cream-colored steer threw his head up, and
- lifting Roderick’s feet from their anchorage started on a mad run.
- But when he lowered his head a moment later Roderick’s feet caught
- the earth again, and the steer was brought to a standstill. Then the
- milling back and forth began. Roderick’s toes sank deep into the
- sand that covered the race track; the muscles of his neck stood out in
- knots. Finally, with one heroic twist on the long horns as a pry over a
- fulcrum, he accomplished the feat of combined strength and endurance, and
- the intense silence of the great throng was broken by a report like the
- shot of a pistol as the bull-dogged steer fell heavily to the earth—dead.
- The animal’s neck was broken.
- </p>
- <p>
- There are very few cases on record where a steer’s neck has been
- broken in bull-dogging contests. Roderick therefore had gained a rare
- distinction. But technically he had done too much, for the judges were
- compelled to withhold from him the honors of the championship because in
- killing the animal he had violated the humane laws of the state, which
- they were pledged to observe throughout the series of contests. But this
- did not affect the tumult of applause that acclaimed his victory over the
- huge and vicious-looking steer. Afterwards when his friends gathered
- around him in wonderment at his having entered for such an event he
- confessed that for several weeks he had been practicing bull-dogging out
- on the range, preparing for this contest.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the afternoon of the last day, the finals of the bucking-broncho
- competition were announced from the grandstand. There were only three
- contestants remaining out of the score or more of original entries, and
- Roderick Warfield was among the number. Scotty Meisch was there—the
- cowboy whom Roderick had challenged—also Bud Bledsoe, the bodyguard
- and sleuth of W. B. Grady. Three of the unconquered outlaws were brought
- out—each attended by two wranglers; the names of the horses were put
- in a hat and each cowboy drew for his mount. Roderick Warfield drew Gin
- Fizz, Bud Bledsoe drew Steamboat and Scotty Meisch drew Firefly. And in a
- few moments the wranglers were busy.
- </p>
- <p>
- Three horses and six wranglers working on them at the same time! It was a
- sight that stirred the blood with expectation. These horses had been
- successful in throwing the riders who had previously attempted to subdue
- them. The outlaws were recognized by the throng even before their names
- were called from the grandstand.
- </p>
- <p>
- The method of the game is this: One wrangler approaches the horse while
- the other holds taut the lariat that has been thrown over his neck; and if
- the freehanded wrangler is quick enough or lucky enough he seizes the
- horse by the ears and throws his whole weight on the animal’s head,
- which is then promptly decorated with a hackamore knotted bridle. A
- hackamore is a sort of a halter, but it is made of the toughest kind of
- rawhide and so tied that a knot presses disastrously against the lower jaw
- of the horse. After being haltered the outlaw is blindfolded with a
- gunnysack. To accomplish all this is a dangerous struggle between horse
- and the wranglers. Then the word “Saddle” is shouted, and the
- saddles are quickly adjusted to the backs of these untamed denizens of the
- wild. It takes considerable time to accomplish all this and have the
- girths tightened to the satisfaction of the wranglers first and of the
- rider last. Invariably the rider is the court of final resort in
- determining that the outlaw is in readiness to be mounted.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last the moments of tense expectancy were ended. It was seen that one
- of the outlaws was ready, and at a call from the judges’ stand,
- Scotty Meisch the first rough-rider leaped on to the back of his untamed
- horse.
- </p>
- <p>
- The “Ki-yi” yell was given—the blindfold slipped from
- Firefly’s eyes, and the rowels of the rider sunk into the flanks of
- his horse. Bucking and plunging, wheeling and whirling, all the time the
- rider not daring to “pull leather” and so disqualify himself
- under the rules, the outlaw once again proved himself a veritable demon.
- In just two minutes after the struggle began Scotty Meisch measured his
- length on the ground and Firefly was dashing for the open. The scene had
- been a thrilling one. Roderick noticed that Scotty had to be helped off
- the track, but he felt no concern—the rough-rider parted from his
- mount in a hurry may be temporarily dazed but is seldom seriously hurt.
- </p>
- <p>
- Steamboat was the next horse. Bud Bledsoe was wont to brag there was
- nothing wore hair that he could not ride. But Steamboat, when he felt the
- weight of a rider on his back, was as usual possessed of a devil. But
- Bledsoe was not the man to conquer the noted outlaw, and down he went in
- prompt and inglorious defeat.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gin Fizz was a magnificent specimen of horseflesh—black as midnight
- with a coat of hair that shone like velvet. His proud head was held high
- in air. He stood like a statue while blindfolded and Roderick Warfield was
- making ready to mount.
- </p>
- <p>
- The vast assemblage in the grandstand held their breath in amazement and
- wondered what would become of the rider of the giant black.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then Roderick quickly mounted, and men and women rose to their feet to see
- the terribleness of it all. Roderick sent his spurs deep into the flanks
- of the black and plied the quirt in a desperate effort quickly to master
- and subdue the outlaw.
- </p>
- <p>
- The horse reared and plunged with lightning quickness, and at times was
- the center of a whirlwind of dust in his determined zig-zag efforts to
- dislodge his rider. He rose straight up on his hind legs and for a moment
- it looked as if he were going to fall over backwards. Then seemingly
- rising still higher in air from his back feet he leaped forward and
- downward, striking his front feet into the earth as if he would break the
- saddle girth and certainly pitch the rider over his head. He squatted,
- jumped, corkscrewed and sun-fished, leaped forward; then he stopped
- suddenly and in demoniacal anger, as if determined not to be conquered, he
- threw his head far around endeavoring to bite his assailant’s legs.
- But at last the horse’s exertions wore him down and he seemed to be
- reluctantly realizing that he had found his master. In the end, after a
- terrible fight lasting fully seven minutes, he quieted down in submission,
- and Gin Fizz thus acknowledged Roderick’s supremacy. He was subdued.
- Roderick drew rein, patted him kindly, dismounted and turned him over to
- the wranglers. Gin Fizz was no longer an outlaw; he suffered himself to be
- led away, trembling in every limb but submissive as a well-trained
- cow-pony.
- </p>
- <p>
- Approaching the judges’ stand, Roderick received a tremendous
- ovation both from the onlookers and from his brother cowboys. The
- championship ribbon was pinned to his breast, and now he was shaking hands
- promiscuously with friends, acquaintances and strangers. But all the while
- his eyes were roaming around in search of Gail Holden.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last he was out of the crowd, in a quiet corner, with Grant Jones, the
- Shields sisters, and a few intimates.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is Miss Holden?” he enquired of Barbara.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, she took poor Scotty Meisch to the hospital in an automobile.
- She insisted on going.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He’s not badly hurt, is he?” he asked drily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no. Just shaken up a lot. He’ll be all right in a week’s
- time, Dr. Burke says.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then Gail—I mean Miss Holden—didn’t see Gin Fizz
- broken?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. But she’ll hear about it all right,” exclaimed
- Barbara enthusiastically. “My word, it was great!” And she
- shook his hand again.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the day of triumph had ended in disappointment for Roderick Warfield.
- He slipped away, saddened and crestfallen.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was all for her I did it”—the thought kept hammering
- at his brain. “And she never even stopped to see. I suppose she’s
- busy now bathing the forehead of that contemptible little runt in the
- hospital. Stella wouldn’t have turned me down like that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And he found himself thinking affectionately and longingly of the little
- “college widow.” He hadn’t been to the post office for
- three days. The belated letter might have arrived at last. He would go and
- see at all events; and to drown thought he whistled “The Merry Widow”
- waltz as he grimly stalked along.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XIX.—A LETTER FROM THE COLLEGE WIDOW
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">Y</span>ES, there was a
- letter from Stella Rain. Roderick took it eagerly from the hands of the
- clerk at the general delivery window. A good number of people were already
- crowding into the post office from the fair grounds. But he was too hungry
- for news to wait for quieter surroundings. So he turned to a vacant corner
- in the waiting room and ripped open the envelope. The letter was as
- follows:
- </p>
- <blockquote>
- <p>
- “Roderick:—
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am sure that what I am about to tell you will be for your good
- as well as my own. It seems so long ago since we were betrothed. At that
- time you were only a boy and I freely confess I liked you very, very
- much. I had known you during your four years in college and you were
- always just splendid. But Roderick, a real love affair has come into my
- life—something different from all other experiences, and when you
- receive this letter I shall be Mrs. Vance Albertrum Carter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Carter, financially, is able to give me a splendid home. He
- is a fine fellow and I know you would like him. Let me be to you the
- same as to the other boys of old Knox—your friend, the ‘college
- widow.’
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very sincerely,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stella Rain.”
- </p>
- </blockquote>
- <p>
- Not a muscle of his face quivered as he read the letter, but at its close
- he dropped both hands to his side in an attitude of utter dejection. The
- blow had fallen so unexpectedly; he felt crushed and grieved, and at the
- same time humiliated. But in an instant he had recovered his outward
- composure. He thrust the letter into his pocket, and shouldered his way
- through the throng at the doorway. He had left Badger in a stall at the
- fair grounds. Thither he bent his steps, taking a side street to avoid the
- crowd streaming into the town. The grandstand and surrounding buildings
- were already deserted. He quickly adjusted saddle and bridle, and threw
- himself on the pony’s back.
- </p>
- <p>
- “‘She knows I would like him,’”he muttered, as he
- gained the race track, the scene of his recent triumphs, its turf torn and
- dented with the hoofs of struggling steers and horses, thronged but an
- hour before with a wildly excited multitude but now silent and void.
- “‘Like him’.” he reiterated bitterly. “Yes—like
- hell.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And with the words he set his steed at the farther rail. Badger skimmed
- over it like a deer and Roderick galloped on across country, making for
- the hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- That night he did not return to the bunk house.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was high noon next day when he showed up at the ranch. He went straight
- to Mr. Shields’ office, gave in his resignation, and took his pay
- check. No explanations were required—Mr. Shields had known for a
- considerable time that Roderick was leaving. He thanked him cordially for
- his past services, congratulated him on his championship honors at the
- frontier celebration, and bade him come to the ranch home at any time as a
- welcome guest. Roderick excused himself from saying good-by for the
- present to the ladies; he was going to stay for a while in Encampment with
- his friend Grant Jones, and would ride out for an evening visit before
- very long. Then he packed his belongings at the bunk house, left word with
- one of the helpers for trunk and valise to be carted into town, and rode
- away. Badger was Roderick’s own personal property; he had purchased
- the pony some months before from Mr. Shields, and as he leaped on its back
- after closing the last boundary gate he patted the animal’s neck
- fondly and proudly. Badger alone was well worth many months of hard and
- oftentimes distasteful work, a horse at all events could be faithful, he
- and his good little pony would never part—such was the burden of his
- thoughts as he left the Shields ranch and the cowboy life behind him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones was in Encampment, and jumped up from his writing table when
- Roderick threw open the door of the shack and walked in.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, old man, this is indeed a welcome visit. Where in the wide
- world have you been?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned Roderick around so the light would fall upon his face as he
- extended his hand in warmest welcome, and noticed he was haggard and pale.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” said Roderick, “I have been up in the hills
- fighting it out alone, sleeping under the stars and thinking matters over.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What does this all mean, anyway, old man? I don’t understand
- you,” said Grant with much solicitude.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, guess you better forget it then,” said Roderick half
- abruptly. “But I owe you an apology for going away so
- unceremoniously from the frontier gathering. I know we had arranged to
- dine together last night But I just cleared out—that’s all.
- Please do not ask me any questions, Grant, as to why and wherefore. If in
- the future I should take you into my confidence that will be time enough.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, old man,” said Grant, “here is my hand. And
- know now and for all time it don’t make a derned bit of difference
- what has happened, I am on your side to the finish, whether it is a
- desperate case of petty larceny or only plain murder.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant laughed and tried to rouse his friend into hilarity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is neither,” replied Roderick laconically. “All the
- same I’ve got some news for you. I have quit my job.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At the Shields ranch?” cried Grant in astonishment. “Surely
- there’s been no trouble there?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, we are all the best of friends. I am just tired of
- cow-punching, and have other plans in view. Besides, remember the letter
- we got pushed under the door here on the occasion of my last visit.
- Perhaps I may be a bit skeered about having my hide shot full of holes,
- eh, old man?” Roderick was now laughing.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Grant looked grave. He eyed his comrade tentatively.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stuff and nonsense. The lunatic who wrote that letter was barking
- up the wrong tree. He mistook you for the other fellow. You were never
- seriously smitten in that quarter, now were you, Rod, old man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not. Barbara Shields is a fine girl, but I never even
- dreamed of making love to her. I didn’t come to Wyoming to chase
- after a millionaire’s daughter,” he added bitterly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that’s Barbara’s misfortune not her fault,”
- laughed Grant. “But I was afraid you had fallen in love with her,
- just as I fell head over heels in love with Dorothy—for her own
- sake, dear boy, and not for anything that may ever come to her from her
- father.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were afraid, do you say?” quizzed Roderick. “Have
- you Mormonistic tendencies then? Do you grudge a twin to the man you
- always call your best friend?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you know there’s no thought like that in my mind,”
- protested Grant. “But you came on to the field too late. You see Ben
- Bragdon was already almost half engaged.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So that’s the other fellow, is it?” laughed Roderick.
- “Oh, now I begin to understand. Then things have come to a crisis
- between Barbara and Bragdon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, this is in strict confidence, Rod. But it is true. That’s
- why I was a bit nervous just now on your account—I kind of felt I
- had to break bad news.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t you worry on my account. Understand once and for
- all that I’m not a marrying man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we’ll see about that later on,” replied Grant,
- smiling. “But I should have been real glad had you been the man to
- win Barbara Shields. How jolly happy we would have been, all four
- together.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Things are best just as they are,” said Roderick sternly.
- “I wouldn’t exchange Badger, my horse out there, for any woman
- in the world. Which reminds me, Grant, that I’ve come here to stay
- with you for a while. Guess I can put Badger in the barn.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure—you are always welcome; I don’t have to say that.
- But remember that Barbara-Bragdon matter is a dead secret. Dorothy just
- whispered it to me in strictest confidence. Hard lines that, for the
- editor of such an enterprising newspaper as the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i>.
- But the engagement is not to be announced until the Republican nomination
- for state senator is put through. You know, of course, that Ben Bragdon
- has consented to run against Carlisle and the smelter interests.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m glad to hear it And now we have an additional reason to
- put our shoulders to the wheel. We’ve got to send Ben Bragdon to
- Cheyenne for Barbara’s sake. Count me in politics from this day on,
- old man. You see I am out of a job. This will be something worth while—to
- help down that blood-sucker Grady, and at the same time secure Bragdon’s
- election.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ben Bragdon is the best man for Wyoming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know it. Put me on his committee right away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You’ll be a tower of strength,” exclaimed Grant
- enthusiastically. “The champion broncho-buster of the world—just
- think of that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick laughed loud and long. This special qualification for political
- work mightily amused him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t laugh,” Grant remonstrated, in all
- seriousness. “You are a man of note now in the community, make no
- mistake. You can swing the vote of every cow-puncher in the land. You are
- their hero—their local Teddy Roosevelt.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Roderick was convulsed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And by the way,” continued Grant, “I never had the
- chance to congratulate you on that magnificent piece of work on Gin Fizz.
- It was the greatest ever.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, we’ll let all that slide.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, siree. Wait till you read my column description of the immortal
- combat in the <i>Doublejack.</i>” He turned to his writing desk, and
- picked up a kodak print. “Here’s your photograph—snapped
- by Gail Holden on the morning of the event, riding your favorite pony
- Badger. Oh, I’ve got all the details; the half-tone has already been
- made. The <i>Encampment Herald</i> boys have been chasing around all day
- for a picture, but I’m glad you were in hiding. The <i>Doublejack</i>
- will scoop them proper this time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But Roderick was no longer listening. The name of Gail Holden had sent his
- thoughts far away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How’s Scotty Meisch?” he asked—rather
- inconsequentially as the enthusiastic editor thought.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Scotty Meisch? He’s all right. Slight concussion of the
- brain—will be out of the hospital in about two weeks. But Miss
- Holden, as it turned out, did the lad a mighty good turn in rushing him to
- the hospital He was unconscious when they got there. She knew more than
- Doc Burke—or saw more; or else the Doc could not deny himself the
- excitement of seeing you tackle Gin Fizz. But there’s no selfishness
- in Grail Holden’s make-up—not one little streak.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In a flash Roderick Warfield saw everything under a new light, and a great
- glow of happiness stole into his heart. It was not indifference for him
- that had made Gail Holden miss the outlaw contest. What a fool he had been
- to get such a notion into his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess I’ll go and feed Badger,” he said, as he turned
- away abruptly and left the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When you come back I’ve a lot more to talk about,”
- shouted Grant, resuming his seat and making a grab for his lead-pencil.
- </p>
- <p>
- But it was several hours before Roderick returned. He had baited the pony,
- watched him feed, and just drowsed away the afternoon among the fragrant
- bales of hay—drowsing without sleeping, chewing a straw and thinking
- all the time.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last he strolled in upon the still busy scribe. Grant threw down his
- pencil.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thought you had slipped away again to the hills and the starlight
- and all that sort of thing. I’m as hungry as a hunter. Let’s
- go down town and eat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m with you,” assented Roderick. “But after
- dinner I want to see Major Buell Hampton. Is he likely to be at home?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was about Buell Hampton I was going to speak to you. Oh, you don’t
- know the news.” Grant was hopping around in great excitement,
- changing his jacket, whisking the new coat vigorously. “But there, I
- am pledged again to secrecy—Good God, what a life for a newspaper
- man to lead, bottled up all the time!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then when am I to be enlightened?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He sent for me this morning and I spent an hour with him. He also
- wanted you, but you were not to be found. He wants to see you immediately.
- Tonight will be the very time, for he said he would be at home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s all right, Grant. But, say, old fellow, I want half an
- hour first with the Major—all alone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mystery after mystery,” fairly shouted the distracted editor.
- “Can’t you give me at least this last news item for
- publication? I’m losing scoops all the time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m afraid you must go scoopless once again,” grinned
- Roderick. “But after dinner you can do a little news-hunting on your
- own account around the saloons, then join me later on at the Major’s.
- That suit you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I suppose I’ve got to submit,” replied Grant, as he
- drew on his now well-brushed coat. “But all through dinner, I’ll
- have you guessing, old man. You cannot imagine the story Buell Hampton’s
- going to tell you. Oh, you needn’t question me. I’m ironclad—bomb-proof—as
- silent as a clam.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick laughed at the mixed metaphors, and arm in arm the friends
- started for their favorite restaurant.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XX.—THE STORE OF GOLD
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> COUPLE of hours
- later Roderick arrived at Buell Hampton’s home. The Major was alone;
- there were no signs of Jim Rankin or Tom Sun; no traces of the recent
- midnight toil. The room looked just the same as on the occasion of
- Roderick’s last visit, now more than two months ago, except for a
- curtain hanging across one wall.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton was seated before the great fireplace and notwithstanding
- the season of the year had a small bed of coals burning.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It takes the chill away, for one thing,” he explained after
- greeting his visitor, “and then it gives me the inspiration of real
- live embers into which to look and dream. There are so many poor people in
- the world, so much suffering and so many heartaches, that one hardly knows
- where to begin.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Major,” said Roderick, “I am glad to find you in
- this mood. I’m one of the sufferers—or at least have been. I
- have come to you for some heartache balm. Oh, I’m not jesting.
- Really I came here tonight determined to give you my confidence—to
- ask your advice as to my future plans.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am extremely glad you feel toward me like that, my lad,”
- exclaimed Buell Hampton, grasping Roderick’s arm and looking kindly
- into his eyes. “I have always felt some subtle bond of sympathy
- between us. I have wanted to help you at the outset of a promising career
- in every way I can. I count it a privilege to be called in to comfort or
- to counsel, and you will know later that I have something more for you
- than mere words of advice.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it is your advice I want most badly now, Major. In the first
- place I have thrown up my job with Mr. Shields.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tired of cow-punching?” nodded Buell Hampton with a smile.
- “I knew that was coming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In the second place I want to be perfectly candid with you. I have
- a prospecting venture in view.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That I have guessed from several hints you have dropped from time
- to time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you spoke a while ago about your reserving some little
- interest for me in your great gold discovery. That was mighty kind, and
- rest assured I appreciate your goodness to one who only a few months ago
- was a stranger to you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You forget that I am a reader of character—that no kindred
- souls are strangers even at a first meeting, my son.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton spoke very softly but very clearly; his gaze rested fixedly
- on Roderick; the latter felt a thrill run through him—yes,
- assuredly, this great and good man had been his friend from the first
- moment they had clasped hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were very good then, Major,” he replied, “in
- judging me so kindly. But I am afraid that I evoked your special sympathy
- and interest because of the confidences I gave you at one of our early
- meetings. You will not have forgotten how I spoke in a most sacred way
- about certain matters in Galesburg and what I intended to do when I had
- sufficient money to carry out my plans.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I remember distinctly,” said the Major. “Your frank
- confidence greatly pleased me. Well, has anything happened?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is just one man on earth I will show this letter to, and you,
- Major, are the man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Saying this Roderick handed over Stella Rain’s letter.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the Major had carefully perused it and put it back in the envelope,
- he reached across to Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” said Roderick, “don’t give that letter back
- to me. Kindly lay it on the red coals and let me see it burn to gray
- ashes. I have fought this thing out all alone up in the hills, and I am
- now almost glad that letter came, since it had to be. But let it vanish
- now in the flames, just as I am going to put Stella Rain forever out of my
- thoughts. Yesterday the receipt of this letter was an event; but from now
- on I shall endeavor to regard it as only an incident.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Silently and musingly the Major complied with Roderick’s request and
- consigned the letter to the glowing embers. When the last trace had
- disappeared, he looked up at Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will take one exception to your remarks,” he said. “Do
- not think unkindly of Stella Rain, nor even attempt to put her out of your
- thoughts. Her influence over you has been all for good during the past
- months, and she has shown herself a very fine and noble woman in the
- gentle manner in which she has broken the bonds that had tied you—bonds
- impulsively and all too lightly assumed on your part, as she knew quite
- well from the beginning. I have a profound admiration for your little
- ‘college widow,’ Roderick, and hold her in high esteem.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was just the suspicion of tears in Roderick’s eyes—a
- lump in his throat which rendered it impossible for him to reply. Yes; all
- bitterness, all sense of humiliation, were now gone. He too was thinking
- mighty kindly of sweet and gentle Stella Rain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Remember,” continued the Major quietly, “you told me
- how she warned you that some other day another girl, the real girl, would
- come along. I guess that has happened now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick started; there was a protesting flush upon his cheek.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Even though you may not yet fully realize it,” quietly added
- the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean?” faltered Roderick; the flush of offended
- dignity had now turned into the blush of confusion.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major smiled benignantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, my young friend, remember again that I read men’s minds
- and hearts just a little. There must be some new influence in your life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you know that—how can you say that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder and smiled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Because otherwise you would be still up among the hills alone,
- young man. Your fight in the wilderness would have lasted for forty days—not
- for a single night. The fever of love does not die down so suddenly
- without an antidote. The resignation you have shown while we burned that
- letter is not merely a negative condition of mind. There is something
- positive as well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I can’t admit that,” protested Roderick. “Or
- at least I dare not allow myself to think like that,” he corrected
- himself hurriedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we shall see what we shall see. Meanwhile all is well. The
- rich harvest of experience has been reaped; the fertile soil awaits the
- next tillage. The important moment of every life is ‘The Now.’
- And this is what we have to think about tonight, Roderick.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely, Major. And that is just why I opened the conversation.
- As I said at the outset, you assigned me an interest in your gold mine for
- a specific object that no longer exists.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “On the contrary,” replied Buell Hampton, “I assigned it
- on general principles—on the general principle of helping a worthy
- young man at the critical period of starting into useful life-work. But I
- may tell you also,” he laughed lightly, “that I had in my mind’s
- eye valuable and important future services whereby the interest would be
- paid for most adequately.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And these services are what?” asked Roderick, with a
- delighted gleam in his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We’ll come to that presently. Where is Grant Jones?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He was to follow me here in half an hour. Time’s almost up,
- unless he’s on the trail of a newspaper scoop.” Roderick was
- smiling happily now.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we shall await his coming. What do you say to a little music
- to beguile the time?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major glanced at his violin resting on a side table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” responded Roderick,
- jumping up with alacrity and handing to the master his old Cremona.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am glad you like music,” said Buell Hampton, as he began to
- tighten his bow. “Its rhythmic cadences of tone are a language
- universal. Its power is unseen but felt, captivating and enthralling alike
- the cultured and the untutored. The harmony of tone enwraps the soul like
- a mantle. It influences heart and intellect It may depress in saddest
- tears or elevate to highest ecstasy. Music is the melody of the Gods. It
- is like an ethereal mist—a soft and dainty distillation of a
- thousand aromatic perfumes, inspiring and wholesome to the soul as the
- morning dew is to buds and blossoms.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As he spoke he had been gently thrumming the strings, and now he placed
- the violin to his chin. Soft and plaintive melodies alternating with wild
- and warring airs followed one after the other until the entire room seemed
- to be quivering with melody. For fully an hour, unconscious of the passing
- time, the Major entertained his guest, and concluded with a rapid surging
- theme as if it were a call to battle and for greater achievements.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones had not yet arrived. Roderick recovered from the trance into
- which the music had thrown him. He thanked the Major for the pleasure he
- had given, then threw a glance at the doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where the deuce can he be?” he murmured.
- </p>
- <p>
- But at the very moment the door opened, and in walked the belated editor.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where have you been all this time?” asked Roderick, half
- petulantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “On the porch of course,” replied Grant. “Do you think I
- was going to interrupt such divine melody?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton smiled pleasedly while he laid down the violin on the table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” he said, “be seated, Grant, my boy. I am going
- to lose no further time. I have some figures to work on tonight. This is
- my first night at home, Roderick, for many weeks. Grant already knows the
- story. Now I shall tell it to you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And straightway the Major related how Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney
- Earnest had garnered the midnight harvests of gold. Then he drew aside the
- curtain hanging on the wall, unlocked the stout door which it concealed,
- and, to Roderick’s amazement, displayed the piled up sacks of golden
- ore.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All quite equal to the rich samples you handled here several months
- ago,” said Buell Hampton, as he waved his hand toward the
- accumulated treasure.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great Cæsar!” gasped Roderick. “There must be hundreds
- of thousands of dollars there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The total will run into millions, young man,” smiled the
- Major. Then he closed the door, relocked it, and dropped the curtain. But
- he did not resume his seat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now this is where your services, and those of Grant Jones will come
- in. This great wealth must be safely transported to Denver. And as I have
- already explained to you tonight, I still want to guard jealously my
- secret of the Hidden Valley on whose resources I may or may not draw again—this
- the future must decide. All of us who are interested have abundance for
- the present; we are equipped for many good works. The removal of this
- large quantity of ore, without attracting public attention here, requires
- good judgment on the part of men who can be absolutely trusted. You are
- the men selected for the responsible duty. And remember it will be
- dangerous duty should our secret leak out. The days of hold-ups are
- passing in the West, but have not yet passed; for as you both know there
- are still a good few desperadoes among the wilds of our Wyoming mountains.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My God—what loot!” murmured Roderick, glancing toward
- the curtain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—a rich loot,” acquiesced the Major. “Now you
- young men will understand that your interests are my own—that while
- I am delighted to share this treasure with my chosen friends, these
- friends have been and continue to be quite indispensable to me. Roderick,
- your question earlier in the evening is answered—you will have a
- rightful share in this gold. Get ready in about a week’s time to
- earn it Now go tonight. I will see you later on to unfold my plans for the
- journey in closer detail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great guns,” groaned Grant Jones, as the two young men gained
- the roadway. “What a newspaper story—what a scoop! And not one
- damned word can be put in type.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXI.—A WARNING
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>Y SUBTLE alchemy
- of thought Roderick’s feelings toward Scotty Meisch had become
- entirely changed. On the ranch he had treated the rough, uncultivated and
- at times insolent youth with contempt that was scarcely concealed. He was
- not of his class; and Roderick by his manner had shown that he counted
- Scotty as outside the pale of good breeding—a fellow not to be
- associated with except in the necessary work of roping a steer or handling
- a mob of cattle. It had been almost an act of condescension on his part to
- accept Scotty’s challenge to try out their respective riding
- abilities at the frontier fair. Any hurt the lad might have received in
- the contest was part of the day’s game, and at the moment Roderick
- had treated the incident with indifference. But now he found himself
- feeling quite solicitous as to the poor fellow’s condition. Of
- course Gail Holden, who had interested herself in the injured cowboy, had
- nothing to do with this change of sentiment—at least Roderick’s
- consciousness took no cognizance of her influence in the matter. All the
- same, as he walked over to the hospital on the following afternoon to
- inquire about the invalid, he was conning in his mind the chances of
- perhaps meeting Gail there.
- </p>
- <p>
- However Scotty Meisch was alone when Roderick was admitted to the ward.
- There was only another occupant of the long room, occupying a cot at the
- farther end. The nurse as she brought Roderick to Scotty’s bedside
- declared that her patient was getting along fine, and that a visit from a
- friend would cheer him up and do him good. Roderick smiled as he sat down
- at the foot of the bed and the nurse moved away to attend to other duties.
- Except for a bandaged head the cowboy looked fairly fit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you, old man?” Roderick asked in a kindly tone.
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty seemed quite disconcerted by this friendly greeting. He looked
- sheepish and shame-faced.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’ll be all right in no time,” he mumbled. “Expect
- you think I’m a mean cuss,” he added, after a moment’s
- pause, glancing at Roderick then hastily looking away again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven’t said so,” replied Roderick in a pleasant and
- assuring way.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I know you hain’t said it. But I’ve never, liked
- you from the first time we met over at the Shield’s ranch. I don’t
- know why—damned if I do. But I didn’t like you and don’t
- like you now, and I’m gosh’lmighty ashamed of myself fer bein’
- so ornery.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You shouldn’t speak of yourself so harshly,” said
- Roderick, somewhat interested in the turn the conversation was taking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t deserve any kindness at your hands,” Meisch
- went on. “I sure planned to kill you onct ‘til I found out you
- weren’t sweet on Barbara Shields. Oh, I’m a low-down cuss, but
- I’m ambitious. You hain’t the feller I’m after any more.
- It’s that lawyer Carlisle and I’ll git him, you jist see. He’s
- got to keep out of my way,” and as Scotty, with a black scowl on his
- face, said this he looked the part of an avenging demon right enough.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know,” he continued, “Barbara is older than I am, but
- I’m dead gone on her, even if she don’t know it, an’ I’ll
- do things yet to that feller Carlisle.” Roderick was fairly
- perplexed by these references to Barbara Shields and the disclosure of the
- rough cowboy’s feelings toward his employer’s daughter. For a
- moment he could not find the proper word to say. He just ventured a
- platitude, kindly spoken as it was kindly intended: “Oh, you must
- get over these broodings, Scotty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It’s not broodings—it’s business, and I mean it,”
- he muttered. “Oh, you needn’t look so darned solemn. I’ve
- no more bad feelin’s agin you. But when you first came to the ranch,
- you know you couldn’t ride any better than a kid. But you began
- givin’ yourself airs, an’ then when I thought you were goin’
- to cut me out with Barbara I jist got plum crazy. That’s why I sent
- you fair warnin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A light broke in on Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So it was you who slipped that note under Grant Jones’ door,
- was it?” he asked in great surprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yas. You can know it now; who cares? But it was only later I saw I
- was on a blind trail—that it was the other one you’re after—goin’
- fishin’ an’ all that sort o’ thing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick reddened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that’s all fudge too,” he exclaimed uneasily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m not so sure ‘bout that,” replied Scotty, with
- a cunning look in his eyes. “‘Sides, she’s dead gone on
- you, that’s a cert. She was here all yesterday afternoon, and could
- speak about nothin’ else—praised yer ridin’ and allowed
- she was tarnation sorry to have missed seein’ you on Gin Fizz. Which
- reminds me that I’ve got to comgratulate you on the championship.”
- He slipped a hand timidly and tentatively from under the bed-spread.
- “Oh, I can admit myself beat when I’m beat. You’ve grown
- to be a better’n rider than me. I’m only a little skinny chap
- at the best, but you showed yourself strong enough to kill that great big
- steer in the bull-doggin’. You’ve got me skinned, and you hold
- the championship right enough. Shake.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And Scotty at last mustered up the moral courage to extend his hand.
- Roderick took it and shook it warmly. So Gail had been talking about him!—his
- heart had leaped with joy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m glad to hear you speak like that, Scotty,” he said
- with great cordiality. “You and I can come to be mighty good
- friends.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee, but I wish I looked like you,” remarked Scotty, lapsing
- into a half smile. “Shake hands again with me, won’t you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick reached over and once more bestowed a good honest squeeze; and he
- improved the occasion by begging Scotty not to indulge in evil thoughts
- about killing people or anything of that sort.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What makes you kind t’ me?” asked the lad as he looked
- inquiringly at Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t know that I have been particularly kind to you,”
- replied Roderick. “I begin to realize that I should have been here
- before now to help cheer you up a bit while convalescing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty turned from Roderick and looking at the ceiling was silent for a
- few moments. At last he said: “Expect if I’d stay here a long,
- long time you’d keep on bein’ kind t’ me. Possibly you
- would bring Barbara with you on some of your visits. But I know I’m
- goin’ t’ get well, that’s the pity of it all. I wouldn’t
- be in bed now if the doctor hadn’t said I got ter stay here for a
- few days. When I’m well, why, then it’s all off with you an’
- Scotty. You won’t pay any more attention to me when I’m once
- more sound as a nut an’ ridin’ range than you would a low down
- coyote.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why should I become indifferent to you?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no reason why you should, only you will,” replied Scotty.
- “You are of the high-falutin’ an’ educated kind an’—well,
- I never went to school more’n two weeks in my life. I got tired of
- the educatin’ business—stole a horse and never did go back. An’
- they never caught me, nuther.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He brightened up when he said this and laughed at his cleverness as if it
- were a most pleasant remembrance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where was your childhood home?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, right there,” replied Scotty, “is where yer
- presumin’. You’re not talkin’ to me. D’ye suppose
- I’m goin’ ter tell yer and have this whole business piped off
- and those fellers come out here an’ pinch me for hoss-stealin’.
- Not on yer life, so long as Scotty Meisch knows himself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick smiled as he said: “Surely, Scotty, you are a very
- suspicious person. I had no thought of doing what you suggest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Waal,” drawled Scotty, “if you’d have been as
- near goin’ to the penitentiary as often as I have, you’d learn
- to keep yer mouth shut when people begin to inquire into your past hist’ry
- an’ not unbosom yerself. Fact is, my hist’ry won’t stand
- investigatin’. It’s fuller of thin places an’ holes than
- an old-fashioned tin corn grater. You know what a grater is, don’t
- you? It’s a tin bent over into a half moon an’ nailed to a
- board with holes punched from inside out to make it rough. Where I come
- from we used to husk new corn just as soon as it was out of the milk an’
- grate it into meal. About the only thing we had to live on was cornmeal
- mush an’ milk. Wish I had some now. I’m hungrier than hell for
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The primitiveness of it all rather appealed to Roderick, and he called the
- nurse and asked if she wouldn’t serve the patient with some cornmeal
- mush with milk for dinner that evening.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly,” she replied, “if Dr. Burke does not object,”
- and went away to make inquiries. In a little while she returned and said:
- “The doctor says a nice bowl of cornmeal mush and milk would be just
- the thing for Mr. Meisch.” And it was so arranged.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the nurse had gone Roderick noticed a tear trickling down the cheek
- of Scotty and in order not to embarrass the boy he turned away and stood
- looking out of the window. Presently Scotty said: “I wish ter hell I
- was decent, that’s what I wish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Without turning from the window Roderick inquired: “How old are you,
- Scotty?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess I’m about nineteen. I don’t know fer sure. They
- never did tell me when my birthday was.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How would you like to go to school, Scotty? Brace up and be an
- educated chap like other fellows.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Me learn to read an’ write?” exclaimed Scotty. “Look
- here, Mr. Warfield, are you chaffin’ me? That’s what some
- Englishmen called it when they meant teasin’ and so I say chaffin’.
- Might as well use all the big words a feller picks up on the way.”
- Roderick laughed aloud at Scotty’s odd expressions and turned to him
- and said: “Scotty, you aren’t a bad fellow. You have a good
- heart in you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t know about that,” said Scotty, shaking his
- head. “One time there was a feller told me that tough cusses like me
- don’t have hearts—just gizzards.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said Roderick, laughing, “my time has come to go
- now but I want to tell you I like you, Scotty. You seem to me to be the
- making of a very decent sort of chap, and if you will be a real good
- fellow and are sincere about wanting to go to school and make something of
- yourself, I believe I can arrange for you to do so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Honest, Mr. Warfield, honest? Are you tellin’ me the truth or
- is this a sick bed jolly?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly I am telling you the truth,” replied Roderick.
- “You think it all over until I come and see you again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When’ll you come? Tomorrow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick, “I’ll come tomorrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” said Scotty, “I’ll sure look for yer.”
- The next day when Roderick called, Major Buell Hampton and Grant Jones
- accompanied him. They had a long talk with Scotty whose rapid recovery
- showed improvement even from the previous day. After the subject had been
- introduced by Roderick, who told Scotty that he had informed his friends
- of the lad’s desire to go to school, Major Buell Hampton observed:
- “A printing office, Mr. Meisch, is a liberal education within
- itself. I have been talking this matter over with Mr. Jones, the Editor of
- the <i>Dillon Doublejack,</i> and with Mr. Warfield, and we have mutually
- agreed that if you are in earnest about leaving the range for a while and
- will learn to read books and generally improve your mind, we shall give
- you the opportunity. As soon as you are able to leave the hospital, how
- would you like to go over to the little town of Dillon with Mr. Grant
- Jones, this gentleman at my right, and go into his printing office?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You would be my devil to start in with,” said Grant,
- good-naturedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess that’d about fit me,” responded Scotty with a
- grin. “I’m a sort of a devil anyway, ain’t I?” and
- he looked toward Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Jones means a different kind of a devil, Scotty,” laughed
- Roderick. “What Major Buell Hampton suggests to you is most
- excellent advice, and I think you had better accept the offer. This job
- will give you a home, and you will work in the printing office. You will
- soon learn to read books, and also you will become a typesetter which, as
- Major Hampton told you, is a practical education within itself and will
- lead to better things and greater things along educational lines. Of
- course, it may be some time before that knock on your head gets all right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t worry about my old bean,” said Scotty with a
- smile, as he touched the bandage that encircled his cranium.
- </p>
- <p>
- Finally Scotty said he believed he would like to try the new job. “You
- know, I’ve been knocked ‘round over the world an’ kicked
- an’ thumped an’ had my ears cuffed an’ my shins barked
- so much that I don’t hardly know what to make uv you fellers. If I
- was sure you wasn’t stringin’ me an’ really meant it all
- as a kindness, why, I’ll be goshdamed if I wouldn’t git up out
- o’ bed this minute an’ start for Dillon. That’s what I’d
- do. I ain’t no piker.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This speech was very amusing to Grant Jones; and he assured the injured
- boy that he himself was not going over to Dillon for perhaps a week, by
- which time if he were attentive to the instructions of the doctor he
- probably would be able to accompany him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll take you over,” said Grant, “and we’ll
- batch it together so far as a place to sleep is concerned in the printing
- office. There is a good boarding house just across the street where you
- can get your meals.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who’s goin’ ter pay for them?” asked Scotty.
- “I ain’t got any money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That,” said Roderick, “is what Major Buell Hampton is
- going to do for you. Not only will he pay your board for one year until
- your work is worth wages in the printing office, but he will also get you
- some new clothes and a new pair of shoes and rig you out in good shape,
- old man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee, but you’re good to me, Major Hampton, and Warfield too.
- Yer ought ter cuff my ears instead uv bein’ so all-fired kind.”
- </p>
- <p>
- With this the loveless boy turned towards the wall and covered his face.
- Both Major Hampton and Grant, as well as Roderick, were noticeably
- affected, and the three walked over toward the window while Scotty was
- collecting himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I say,” said Grant, sotto voce, “in the language of Jim
- Rankin, the worst that poor little devil will get—if he goes with me—will
- be the best of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then the visitors turned round to say good-by. The invalid had had about
- enough excitement for one day.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just as they were departing, Scotty beckoned Roderick to his side.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stop a minute or two with me—alone,” he whispered.
- “I wants ter tell you somethin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick excused himself to the others; he would join them on the porch
- presently.
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty’s face wore a keen eager look.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, if I helps you,” he began, “I’ll be doin’
- a good turn, won’t I, to the girl that saved my life by hurryin’
- me along to this ‘orspital here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe she will count it as a favor,” replied Roderick.
- “How can you help me, Scotty?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An’ I’ll be doin’ you a favor,” continued
- the lad, without answering the direct question, “if I do a good turn
- to your friend with the name that reminds me of Bull Durham terbaccer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Buell Hampton,” laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Major you also call him. Wal, I can drop him a word o’
- warnin’ too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, he has never a thought about love affairs,” replied
- Roderick, smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But this is a warnin’ of another kind. Listen.” And
- Scotty drew himself up to a sitting posture on the bed. “Come
- nearer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick complied; his ear was close to Scotty’s lips. The cowboy
- spoke in a whisper.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Major’s got a pile o’ rich ore stored in his house.
- There’s a bunch o’ fellers agoin’ to get it, an’
- they’ll shoot to kill as sure as God made hell.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick mastered his emotion of surprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When is this to take place, Scotty?” he asked quietly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Any night after tonight. Tonight they’ve fixed to square
- accounts with some sheep herders over Jack Creek way. Then they’re
- goin’ for the Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick gripped the other’s hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Scotty, you have done me the biggest service in the world,”
- he said earnestly. “But one thing more—who are these men?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dassn’t tell. They’d plug me full o’ holes the
- moment I got out o’ here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick felt perplexed. He did not like to press for information that
- might seem to threaten danger for Scotty himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- The latter was watching his face furtively.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know you’re straight—you’ll never give a feller
- like me away if I tell you one name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never. You may stake your life on that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wal, I don’t care what happens to him anyway. He’s a
- bad egg—a rotten bad egg clean through. And I’m done with him
- from now right on. I’m goin’ to take that printin’ devil’s
- job and act on the square.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s right, Scotty. And we’ll all help you to get
- clear of bad companions and bad influences. So it’s all right for
- you to give me that name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “An’ she’ll be pleased too, won’t she, that Holden
- young lady?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She’ll be always grateful to you for saving Buell Hampton.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s ‘nuff for me. The leader o’ that gang is—”
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty paused a moment; Roderick waited, silent and still.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bud Bledsoe,” whispered the lad. “Now I’ve
- stopped hatin’ you, I’ve sort o’ turned to hatin’
- him and all his kind. But you’ll not give me away, Warfield? I wants
- ter hold down that printin’ job—that editor feller will make a
- man of me, that’s just how I feel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And just as we all feel,” said Roderick. “Now, Scotty,
- you must lie down. Let me fix your pillow for you. You’ve got some
- fever yet, I can see. You must rest, old fellow. You look tired.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I’m doggoned tired,” murmured the lad wearily, as
- he sank back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is sleeping now, I think,” said Roderick to the nurse as
- he passed quietly out of the ward.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXII.—THE TRAGEDY AT JACK CREEK
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER a brief
- consultation on the hospital veranda, Buell Hampton, Roderick and Grant
- decided on an immediate consultation with Jim Rankin. They found the
- ex-sheriff busy among the horses down at the brush stable over the hill
- from the Major’s home.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim received the startling news with great complacency.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ve been expectin’ tumultuous news o’ this kind
- for quite a while,” he said. “Oh, I’m up to all the
- didoes o’ both the cowpunchers and the sheep herders. Never mind how
- I got to know them things. I just know ‘em, and that’s ‘nuff
- said, good and plenty, for all present. If the cowpunchers are going to
- Jack Creek tonight, there will be hell a-poppin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not murder, surely?” exclaimed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wal, there’s no sayin’ how them things end,”
- replied Jim. “You see it’s this way. The cowpunchers claim
- they’re afeard the sheep’ll cross over Jack Creek, an’
- they’ll go armed with great big clubs as well as shootin’
- irons. They’ll undertake, I’m ‘lowin’, ter kill
- with their dubs a whole lot o’ sheep, maybe the hull kit an’
- bilin’ uv ‘em, shoot up the mess wagons where the sheep
- herders are sleepin’, an’ the chances are nine outer ten that
- they’ll kill the herders an’ then jist nachur’ly burn
- the wagons an’ the corpses, kill the shepherd dogs too an’
- throw them on ter the fire and generally do a hellish piece uv intimidatin’
- work. They’ll burn the wagons ter hide evidence uv their guilt. You
- bet they’ll git keerless with their artillery.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good God!” murmured Roderick in horror and surprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We must stop this murderous business,” remarked Buell
- Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And get hold of Bud Bledsoe before he can do further harm,”
- suggested Grant Jones. “Let’s hunt up the sheriff.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, just go slow, g’nlemen, please,” replied Jim,
- expectorating an inconvenient mouthful of tobacco juice and wiping his
- lips with the back of his hand. “Jist you leave this business to me.
- I’ve been prognosticatin’ trouble for months back, an’
- know jist how to act. No sheriff is wanted—at least not the bum
- sheriff we’ve got at the present time. He needs no warnin’
- from us—mark my words. And even if he didn’t chance to know
- what we might be tellin’ him, when he did know, it would be his
- pertic’lar business to arrive after the killin’—that’s
- politics. Do you git me, Major?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m afraid I get you all right, Jim,” replied Buell
- Hampton gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, let us go and see Ben Bragdon,” proposed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not on your life,” replied Jim excitedly. “Hell, man,
- he’s the attorney fur the cattle fellers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is a gentleman,” exclaimed Roderick, “and if he is
- the attorney for the cow men, so much the better. He would advise the
- bosses of this contemplated lawbreaking raid and murder, and of course
- they would immediately take steps to keep the cowboys from committing such
- wickedness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin’s black eyes fairly snapped as he looked Roderick
- straight in the face and exclaimed: “Roderick, are yer as big a
- tenderfoot as that? Don’t yer know the cowboys don’t go out
- murderin’ uv their own accord on these here cut-throat raids? They
- go, by gunnies, ‘cause they’re paid by the higher ups ter do
- these dastardly killin’ acts. Why, gosh ‘lmighty, Ben Bragdon
- draws a monthly retainer fee uv several figures ter protect the higher ups
- an’ there yer are, plain as a handle on a gourd. No, by gunnies,
- while the Major and Mr. Jones keep guard here, you an’ me, Roderick,
- will have ter go alone an’ jist nachurally take the law into our own
- hands. We’ll have plenty uv shootin’ irons an’ loco the
- cowboys by shootin’ an’ wingin’ two or three uv ‘em,
- Bud Bledsoe in pertic’lar. Oh, you bet I know how to do this job,”
- and he chuckled reassuringly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I don’t,” replied Roderick. “I don’t
- pretend to know these cold-blooded murdering ways of the West or anything
- of this lawless feud that is going on between the cattlemen and the sheep
- men. However, I will go with you, Jim. When shall we start?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Immediately after supper. There’s no moon and it looks a
- little squally. It will be darker than a stack of black cats, but by
- gunnies, I know the way. All you’ve got to do is to have yer shootin’
- irons ready, follow me and shoot when I shoot Now I guess there’s no
- need my onbosomin’ myself any more,” he added with a
- comprehensive glance around.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was unable to repress a smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Jim, I’m game, and ready for the lark.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gunnies, it ain’t no lark howsumever; I know yer game,”
- replied Rankin. “You bet I kin tell a scrapper when I see him. Now
- not a word to anyone else besides us four—exceptin’ of course,
- Boney Earnest I’m goin’ over to the smelter right now, and
- will arrange for him to be here tonight to help the Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Tom Sun?” asked Roderick, anxiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, he’s in no danger. Them fellers are after his herders but
- not after the big man. They know better—the law would be poppin’
- like hell if they ever made the mistake o’ hurtin’ one o’
- the higher-ups.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Besides, Mr. Sun is at Rawlins today on business,” observed
- Buell Hampton. “He is riding, and is to come straight here. But he
- told me not to expect him until midnight.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which the cowpunching gang know quite well,” said Jim
- emphatically. “You bet they are playin’ up tonight jist
- because they cal’clate on his absence. Now we’ll be a-movin’.
- Major, get your rifles well oiled—you may need ‘em. My ridin’
- hoss is over at the livery barn, and you an’ me, Roderick, will
- start from there at eight o’clock sharp. Oh, you bet we’ll
- have tumultuous doin’s. Jist you an’ me ‘ll show these
- killin’ cusses they’re holdin’ bob-tailed flushes fur
- oncet. They won’t show up here for the gold ore after we’re
- through with ‘em. Reminds me uv the old sheriff days, boys. An’
- its ‘lmighty good to be back to them,” he added, pushing his
- hat back on his head determinedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think we must put you up for sheriff again next election,”
- laughed Grant Jones.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s just what I’m prognosticatin’,”
- replied the rugged old frontiersman, with a grim smile. “Folks will
- see who’s the real sheriff tonight—me or that white-livered
- double-dealin’ cur. Mills.” And he strode away in the
- direction of the smelting plant, chewing his tobacco cud vigorously.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the appointed hour that night Roderick was at the livery barn, and got
- ready his faithful horse, Badger. He had only waited a few minutes when
- Jim Rankin made his appearance. They were soon in their saddles and headed
- for Jack Creek.
- </p>
- <p>
- The night was very dark, and despite the would-be sheriff’s vaunted
- knowledge of the country they lost themselves several times, and on one
- occasion had to retrace their steps four or five miles. Wherever it was
- possible they urged their horses on as rapidly as was prudent, but often
- for long distances it was a case of picking their way at a walking pace
- through the inky blackness. It was within an hour of midnight when at last
- they turned from the main road to the westward along the north bank of
- Jack Creek, which was the dividing line between the flockmasters’
- and the cattle men’s range. Rankin explained that the bands of sheep
- were being held about two miles on to the westward.
- </p>
- <p>
- They had not gone very far up the creek when they were startled by the
- sight of two great fires burning like haystacks. They spurred their horses
- and hurried as fast as possible over the uncertain and little used road,
- and soon came upon a weird and terrible scene. Some three or four hundred
- sheep had been clubbed to death and lay like scattered boulders over the
- ground, while the two covered wagons where the herders cooked their meals
- and likewise slept were fast burning to ashes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gunnies,” said Jim Rankin, “we didn’t get here
- quick enough. They’ve sure done their hellish work. I’ll bet
- there’s two sheep herders an’ two shepherd dogs bumin’
- to cinders in them there fires. It’s hell, ain’t it? They beat
- us to it for sure. But usually them doin’s don’t come off
- ‘til one or two o’clock in the mornin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where are the balance of the sheep?” inquired Roderick.
- “I thought you said there were several thousand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, boy,” said Jim, “they’re chasin’ down
- toward Saratoga as if the wolves were after them. There’s ‘bout
- three thousand sheep in each band an’ there were two bands uv
- ‘em.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then four masked men rode up out of the darkness toward the burning
- outfits, but quickly checked their horses when they saw the two mounted
- strangers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don’t shoot, Roderick, don’t shoot,” whispered
- Jim. “By gunnies, they’ve got us covered. Don’t lift
- your artillery. They’ll kill us sure if yer do.” Then he
- raised his trembling voice in a shout: “Hey, you fellers, we seed
- somethin’ burnin’ here. Wonder what ‘tis?”
- </p>
- <p>
- A deep guttural voice came back: “You two ‘ll find it a dam
- sight more healthy to git back on the main road an’ tend to your own
- business. You have got jist one minute to start.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on,” said Jim, agitatedly, whirling his horse, putting
- spurs to him and leaving Roderick trailing far behind.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick rode along toward the main road which they had just left after
- crossing over Jack Creek. He was disgusted with it all and with Jim Rankin’s
- poltroonery in particular. The sight he had seen by the gleaming light of
- the burning wagons was ghastly. The innocent, helpless sheep that had been
- clubbed to death through the selfishness of men. He was in no mood for
- hilarity. It was a sight that would remain with him and haunt him. Then
- too, he had received a new measure of Jim Rankin.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Roderick Warfield had all the blind audacity of youth and did not give
- the old westerner Jim Rankin the credit he deserved. Jim Rankin was versed
- in the ways of these western transgressors, and knew the price he and
- Roderick would have to pay for “butting in” on a quarrel
- between the cattle and the sheep men that was no direct concern of
- outsiders. This price was death, swift and merciless.
- </p>
- <p>
- When Roderick reached the highway he pulled his horse to the right toward
- the bridge that spanned Jack Creek. As he approached the bridge he heard
- someone say: “Here he comes now.” The voice was not Jim Rankin’s.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello,” came a call in yet another voice, just as his horse
- reached the bridge.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on, Roderick,” cried Jim Rankin, “I’m here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who’s with you?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They’ll tell you,” replied Jim.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick rode up and found three men with drawn revolvers, and one of them
- proved to be the sheriff of the county and the others his deputies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gentlemen,” said the sheriff, “you are accused of
- killing a lot of sheep up here on Jack Creek and burning a couple of
- wagons, and I arrest you in the name of the law.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What does this mean?” inquired Roderick, hotly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It means,” said the sheriff, “you fellers will fork
- over your shootin’ irons quietly and submit to being handcuffed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look here, Mills,” said Rankin, resentfully, “you’re
- goin’ too dangnation far, by gunnies. I’ll be responsible for
- young Warfield, here. I’ll go his bail. Dangnation, don’t
- press me any furder or I’ll git peevish.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” replied Sheriff Mills, hesitatingly, “who will
- be responsible for you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, Gosh’lmighty, Mills, we’ve know’d each other
- fur twenty-five years. You go my security yourself or by the great horn
- spoon you’ll not kerry Rawlins precinct next election.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Watch that young feller,” instructed the sheriff to his
- deputies. “Ride over this way, Jim, where we can speak privately.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A few moments later Rankin called out: “Come on, Roderick, let’s
- be goin’. It’s gettin’ late. Everything’s all
- right.” And together they headed their horses for Encampment and
- rode on in the darkness.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin presently said: “Well, by gunnies, Tom Sun has leastways
- got to hand it to us fur tryin’.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick made no immediate reply and they continued their way in silence.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last Roderick spoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were mighty friendly with that white-livered, double-dealing
- cur, the sheriff—that’s what you called him a few hours ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but he wasn’t present with a gun in his hand,”
- replied Jim. “He sure ‘nuff had the drop on us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did you square him then?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Politics,” came the sententious answer. “And I guess I
- put one over him at that. Somebody’s goin’ to git a dangnation
- throw-down, an’ don’t you forgit it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- An hour later they descended at the livery barn. The sky had cleared, and
- they had ridden fast under the starlight. Roderick looked the ex-sheriff
- squarely in the face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Jim Rankin, the next move in the game is going to be mine. Get
- your three fours hitched up at once, and bring them down one by one as
- fast as they are ready, to the Major’s. We load that ore tonight,
- and start for the railroad before daylight. Do you get me, my friend?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin for a moment looked into Roderick’s eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess I git you, Mr. Warfield,” he replied, as he meekly
- turned away toward the stables where the twelve powerful draught horses
- had been held in preparedness for a week past.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIII.—THE FIGHT ON THE ROAD
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>AYLIGHT had not
- yet broken when the three four-horse wagons were loaded and ready for the
- road. Not a moment had been lost after Roderick’s arrival at the
- Major’s. That night he had had a grim glimpse of what western
- lawlessness among the mountains might mean, and had speedily convinced the
- Major that his policy of instant departure was the wise one. Bud Bledsoe
- and his gang would rest at least one day, perhaps two or three days, after
- their devilish exploit with the sheep-herders, and when they came
- reconnoitering around the blockhouse in which the ore was stored it would
- be to find the rich treasure gone. The teams by that time would be at
- Walcott, or at least well on the way to their destination.
- </p>
- <p>
- The little bunch of friends had set to work with a will. Jim Rankin got
- the first team down within half an hour, and by that time the Major, Tom
- Sun, who had duly turned up from Rawlins, Boney Earnest, Grant Jones and
- Roderick had a goodly pile of the one-hundred-pound ore sacks stacked in
- front of the house, ready to be lifted into the wagon. Without a hitch or
- delay the work proceeded, and now that the loading was completed, and the
- rifles and ammunition had been stowed under the drivers’ seats, the
- tension of suppressed excitement was relaxed. Pipes were alight during a
- final consultation.
- </p>
- <p>
- The three tough old westerners, it was settled, were to drive. Boney had
- announced his absolute determination to come along—the smelter could
- go to blazes, he had applied some days before for a week’s leave
- anyways and if W. B. Grady chose to buck because he took it now, well he
- could “buck good and plenty, and be damned to him.” Tom Sun
- was keeping in stern repression his wrath against the miscreants who had
- massacred his sheep and probably killed his herders as well; it would be
- stern satisfaction for him to have a fight on the road, to settle accounts
- with Bud Bledsoe by the agency of a rifle bullet. Jim Rankin, after his
- quiet taking-down by Roderick at the livery stable, had recovered his
- accustomed self-assurance and bellicosity, and was “prognosticating”
- all manner of valorous deeds once it came to guns out on both sides and
- fair shooting.
- </p>
- <p>
- While these three would manage the teams, Buell Hampton, Grant and
- Roderick would scout ahead on their riding horses, and provide a rear
- guard as well so that the alarm of any attempted pursuit could be given.
- Badger had been fed and rested, and looked fit for anything despite the
- night’s ride to Jack Creek.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jumping into the saddle Roderick, accompanied by Grant Jones, who knew the
- road well, led the way. The wagons followed, while the Major delayed just
- long enough to lock up the house, including the now empty inner chamber,
- and clear away the traces of the night’s work. The whole cavalcade
- was three or four miles out of Encampment before the sun had risen and the
- townsfolk were astir.
- </p>
- <p>
- The distance to be traversed was just fifty miles, and that night the
- first camp was made beyond Saratoga. No public attention had been drawn to
- the wagons; none of the people encountered on the road or at stopping
- places had any reason to think that these ordinary looking ore-sacks held
- gold that was worth a king’s ransom. There had been no signs of
- ambushed robbers ahead nor of pursuit in the rear. But that night, while a
- few hours of sleep were snatched, watch was kept in turn, while each
- sleeper had his rifle close at hand. With the first glimmer of dawn the
- journey was resumed.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was well on in the afternoon when the Major spied, some distance out on
- the open country to the left, the dust raised by a small party of
- horsemen. He rode up to the wagons to consult his friends. He had just
- pointed out the sign to Jim Rankin, when the riders disappeared behind a
- rocky ridge.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim had been shading his eyes while gazing fixedly. He now dropped his
- hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gunnies, they are after us right enough,” he exclaimed.
- “That was Bud Bledsoe in the lead—I know his ginger-colored
- pony. They’re going to cross Pass Creek lower down, then they will
- swing around into White Horse Canyon, coming back to meet us after we’ve
- crossed the bridge and are on the long steep hill just beyond. Dang me if
- that ain’t their game.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major rode ahead to warn Grant and Roderick. The bridge over Pass
- Creek was only three miles from Walcott. If the three scouts could gain
- the crest of the steep slope, before the robbers, the advantage of
- position would be theirs.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick grasped the plan of campaign in an instant, and, digging his
- spurs into Badger’s flank, galloped off full pelt. Grant and the
- Major followed at the best pace of their less mettled ponies.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was less than a mile to the bridge, and Badger was soon breasting the
- hill at a swinging canter. Just before reaching the summit Roderick
- descended, and throwing the bridle over the pony’s head tethered it
- in cowboy fashion. “I’ll be back in a minute, old fellow,”
- he said, as he gave Badger an affectionate pat on the neck. Then, rifle in
- hand, he walked up the remaining few yards of the slope, and cautiously
- peered over the crest into White Horse Canyon.
- </p>
- <p>
- Great Scott! seven or eight horsemen away down at the foot of the
- descending incline were just scrambling out of the waste of cacti and
- joshuas on to the roadway! The first comers were waiting for the
- stragglers, and a pow-wow was evidently being held. Roderick gripped the
- butt of his rifle. But he heard the clatter of hoofs behind him, and drew
- back for the time being. Waving a cautioning hand to Buell Hampton and
- Grant as they approached, he gave the news in a few words. It took only a
- minute to tie all three horses securely to the low-growing grease-wood
- that here skirted the road—the animals, although well-trained, might
- be stampeded by the shooting. Then, rifles in hand, Roderick, Grant and
- the Major crept up to the crest of the ridge. Before reaching it the sharp
- tattoo of horse hoofs smote their ears.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s Bud Bledsoe in the lead on the ginger pony,”
- exclaimed Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nothing more was needed by Roderick; if Bud Bledsoe was there, the gang
- were lawbreakers and bent on further villainy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bang!” went Roderick’s rifle; and the ginger-colored
- horse plunged forward on his knees, and then rolled over, kicking wildly
- in the air. Two horses behind stumbled over the obstruction, and instantly
- there was a confused heap of struggling beasts and men. Four other riders
- had reined in their steeds just in time, and were standing stock-still on
- the highway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Keep it up, but don’t kill,” muttered the Major, just
- before he fired his own rifle. Almost at the same instant came “bang”
- from Grant’s shoulder, and a second shot by Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- At this fusillade the four cowboys still mounted jumped their horses into
- the sage brush and cacti and were gone like a streak across country. One
- of the fallen horses had struggled to its feet, and a figure leaped into
- the saddle. It was Bud Bledsoe—Roderick knew him by his gorilla-like
- figure. Leaving his two fallen comrades to their fate, the leader raced
- after the fleeing quartette. Three rifle bullets whizzed past him to
- quicken his pace. Then the marksmen on the ridge stood erect.
- </p>
- <p>
- Two motionless human figures lay on the road at the bottom of the hill;
- the ginger horse had rolled in among the bushes in his death throes, the
- other was limping along with a broken leg. Roderick ran down the slope on
- foot, leaving the others to follow with the horses.
- </p>
- <p>
- The first man he reached was dead, his neck broken by the fall. Roderick
- recognized him at a glance—for when once riding the range with a
- bunch of cowboys they had passed a lone rider on a mountain trail and the
- name had been passed around—Butch Cassidy, a horse rustler, and an
- outlaw of the hills. The other fellow was bleeding from a wound in his
- breast; there was a gulping gurgle in his throat. He had evidently been
- hit by Grant’s first bullet, which had been fired too quick for any
- heed to be paid to Buell Hampton’s merciful injunction. Just as
- Roderick raised the limp hand the wounded man opened his eyes; then he
- uttered one great sob and died.
- </p>
- <p>
- A few minutes later bullets from Grant’s revolver put the injured
- horses out of pain.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the dusk of the falling night the dead men were borne on the ore wagons
- into Walcott. The station agent recognized the second corpse as that of a
- notorious gambler and hold-up artist, an old associate of Big-Nosed George
- in early days. The railroad man treated the bodies as trash, but
- condescended to wire down the line for the coroner and the sheriff. The
- car, which had been ordered several days before, was on the side track
- awaiting the ore shippers, and he counselled that there should be no delay
- in loading, as a through freight for Denver was due shortly after
- midnight. So the fight was forgotten, and the work of transferring the ore
- sacks from the wagons was soon in progress, all present, even the Major,
- lending a hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the task had been completed, the bill of lading prepared and all
- charges prepaid, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, Tom Sun and Grant Jones
- boarded the car. They were well provided with blankets for bedding and
- still carried their rifles. Buell Hampton and Roderick remained to arrange
- for the sending back of the teams and saddle horses; they would follow on
- the morning passenger train, and the whole party would reach Denver
- practically at the same hour next night.
- </p>
- <p>
- No further incident occurred. But not until the carload of ore had been
- duly delivered, sampled, and weighed did the four faithful and well-armed
- guards relax their vigilance. The purchasers were the Globe Smelter
- Company, with whose manager Boney Earnest had personal acquaintance.
- </p>
- <p>
- While secrecy was exercised concerning this remarkable ore shipment, yet
- the news gradually crept out and it became known that something phenomenal
- had occurred. The newspaper reporters hovered around the Globe Smelter
- endeavoring to pick up a few crumbs of information.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton and his friends were registered at the Brown Palace Hotel
- where they had arranged for connecting rooms. Two days afterwards Buell
- Hampton announced to his friends, in the privacy of his room, that the
- returns were all he had anticipated. The money had been duly deposited to
- his credit, and now he wrote checks running into five figures for each of
- his friends, and admonished them separately and collectively to deposit
- the money in some Denver bank to their individual credit, then return to
- their Encampment homes and each continue his avocation as if nothing had
- happened to improve their financial affairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “As for myself,” said the Major, “I have a mission to
- perform, and I probably will not return to Encampment for a matter of
- fifteen or twenty days.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That night Major Hampton left for New York carrying with him certified
- checks for a large sum of money, and on the following morning the others
- took train for Wyoming. Within a few days all had resumed their accustomed
- routine. Jim Rankin was back on his stage coach making his usual trips;
- Boney Earnest, after an acrimonious scrap with Grady over the question of
- absence without leave, was in his old place before the blast furnace; Tom
- Sun regained his home at Split Rock, north of Rawlins, Grant Jones
- returned to his editorial duties, Roderick to his preparations for a
- prospecting expedition.
- </p>
- <p>
- Both Grant and Roderick had brought with them checks for a few thousand
- dollars, which they deposited in the local bank to the great surprise of
- the cashier. And even before leaving the bank they began to realize that
- their importance in the community had already gone up a hundred per cent.
- Such is the prompt efficacy of a substantial bank balance!
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIV—SUMMER DAYS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>ITHIN less than a
- year of his leaving Keokuk to play football with the world, as Uncle Allen
- Miller had phrased it, Roderick Warfield had established himself in a
- sound financial position. So far he had not been made the “pig-skin”
- in life’s game. While he was filled with grateful feeling toward
- Buell Hampton, and recognized the noble generosity of his friend, he had
- at the same time the satisfaction of feeling that he had done at least a
- little toward earning a share in the proceeds derived from the carload of
- rich ore. And once he found his own mine, his father’s mine, it
- would be his turn to follow the golden rule and share liberally with those
- around him.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he had handed in the Denver check at the local bank, he had already
- found a new deposit to his credit there—a sum of money to which he
- had never given a thought from the moment it was won. This was the $450
- coming to him as the World’s Championship prize in the rough-riding
- and outlaw-busting competition at the frontier celebration. It was with
- intense delight that Roderick decided to apply this windfall to finally
- clearing off his New York liabilities. He felt like walking even a bit
- more erect than ever now that he would owe not a dollar in the world.
- After luncheon he returned to the bank and secured eastern drafts.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there was a balance remaining, and Roderick at once thought of the lad
- who had not only suffered defeat in the contest but injury as well. Major
- Hampton had already undertaken the provision of clothes and other outfit
- for Scotty Meisch. Roderick thought for a moment; then he walked across to
- the Savings Bank and started an account in the cowboy’s name with a
- credit of $100. He carried the little pass-book with him to the hospital.
- </p>
- <p>
- He found Scotty reclining in a long chair on the veranda. The invalid was
- convalescent, although looking pale from the unwonted confinement. His
- face brightened with joy when Roderick, looking down with a pleasant
- smile, patted him on the shoulder and gripped his hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee, but it’s good to see you again,” murmured the boy.
- “It seems like a hell of a time since you were here. But I got the
- postcard you sent me from Denver.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Scotty, as I wrote you, Grant Jones and I, also the Major,
- have all been to Denver. We were called away unexpectedly or would have
- paid you a parting visit. But I’ve come around at once, you see.
- Grant Jones and I got back only this afternoon. Mr. Jones is going to take
- you over to Dillon next week. Meanwhile I have brought you this little
- book, old fellow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty glanced at the pass-book, wonderingly and uncomprehendingly. He
- turned it over and over.
- </p>
- <p>
- “An’ what’s this piece o’ leather goods for?”
- he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That means you’ve got $100 to your credit in the Savings
- Bank, Scotty—the consolation prize, you remember, in the
- broncho-busting contest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Consolation prize be damned. There was no consolation prize.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, there was.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not by a danged sight You’ve gone an’ done this,
- Warfield.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I got the big money, and hasn’t the winner the right to
- give off a bit of it as a consolation prize? Just stuff that book in your
- pocket, Scotty, and may the hundred dollars soon roll up to a thousand,
- old fellow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great guns, but you’re powerful kind to me—all of you,”
- murmured the cowboy. There were tears in his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And by the way, Scotty,” continued Roderick, talking gaily,
- “that reminds me, I’ve got to go across to Englehart’s
- store and take over that grand championship saddle he was showing in his
- window—Banker Buck Henry’s special prize, you remember. I had
- almost forgotten about it. Why, it’s mine—stamped leather,
- solid silver mounts, and all the gewgaw trimmings. How will I look riding
- the ranges with that sort of outfit?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You’ll look just grand,” exclaimed Scotty admiringly.
- “But you won’t use that on the range. It will be your courtin’
- outfit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Scotty smiled wanly, while Roderick laughed in spite of himself. The
- invalid felt emboldened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, she’s been over here every day during your absence,”
- he continued. “Gee, but she’s pretty, and she’s kind!
- And let me tell you somethin’ else. Barbara’s been a-visitin’
- me too. Just think o’ that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah, all the girls are good, Scotty—and Wyoming girls the best
- of all,” he added enthusiastically. There was safety in the general
- proposition.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Barbara an’ I has made it all up,” continued the lad,
- still smiling, wistfully yet happily. “She’s dead stuck on
- that lawyer chap, Bragdon, and we shook hands over it. I wished her luck,
- and promised to vote for Bragdon at the election for state senator. An’
- what do you think she did when I told her that?” he asked, raising
- himself in his chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She said ‘Bully for you,’ I bet,” replied
- Roderick. “She did more. She kissed me—fair and square, she
- kissed me,” Scotty put his finger-tips to his forehead. “Oh,
- only there,” he added, half regretfully. “But I’ll never
- forget the touch of her lips, her sweet breath in my face.” And he
- patted the spot on his brow in appreciative reminiscence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s politics, as Jim Rankin would say,” laughed
- Roderick, more to himself than to the cowboy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wal, it’s the sort o’ politics I like,” replied
- Scotty. “If she’d even only cuff my ears every time I voted, I’d
- be a repeater for Bragdon at the polls.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we’ll both vote the Bragdon ticket, Scotty. A girl like
- Barbara Shields is worth making happy, all the time. And later on, old
- fellow, the proper girl will be coming along for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Looks as if she was comin’ along for you right now,”
- grinned Scotty, glancing toward the steps of the veranda.
- </p>
- <p>
- And a moment later Roderick was shaking hands with another hospital
- visitor, gazing into Gail Holden’s blue eyes, and receiving her warm
- words of greeting over his safe return.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We heard something about a fight near Walcott, you know, Mr.
- Warfield—about a mysterious carload of ore. Two hold-up men were
- killed, and your name was mentioned in connection with the affair. I felt
- quite anxious until Mr. Meisch received his postcard from Denver. But you
- never thought of writing to me,” she added, reproachfully.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I did not dare,” murmured Roderick in a low tone intended
- only for her ears.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Scotty heard and Scotty saw.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is the very hour the nurse says I’ve got to sleep,”
- he said. “You’d better be clearin’ out, War-field.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And me too?” asked Gail, laughingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The pair o’ you,” replied the invalid, as he lay back
- languorously and closed his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess we’d better be going,” laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps Mr. Meisch is awake enough yet,” said Gail, “to
- hear that I brought over a chicken for his supper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tell the nurse I’ll have it fried, please,” yawned
- Scotty, as, without opening his eyes, he turned over his head in
- slumberous fashion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come away then, Miss Holden,” said Roderick. “I suppose
- you rode over on Fleetfoot. I’ll saddle Badger, and we’ll have
- a gallop across country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No doggoned politics there,” exclaimed the cowboy, awaking
- suddenly, as he watched the handsome couple disappear. “That’s
- the real thing, sure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The summer days glided past. The Major had returned from New York and had
- quietly resumed his old life of benevolence among the poor. But soon there
- seemed to be no more poverty in or around Encampment. Roderick, keeping
- the mining town as his headquarters, made a series of expeditions into the
- mountains, systematically searching every range and every known canyon. He
- would be absent for several days at a time, sometimes with Jim Rankin for
- a companion, Grant Jones once or twice accompanying him, but latterly with
- Boney Earnest as his <i>fidus Achates.</i> For Boney had severed his
- connection finally with the Smelter Company, after a quarrel with Grady
- that had ended in the blast furnace foreman knocking his employer down.
- Such is the wonderful independence that comes from a bank balance—even
- a secret bank balance that may not command the deference accorded to known
- financial prosperity.
- </p>
- <p>
- Between his prospecting expeditions Roderick spent an occasional evening
- either at the Conchshell Ranch or at the Major’s, with a flying call
- now and then at the Shields home, especially when Grant was on one of his
- periodical visits to Encampment.
- </p>
- <p>
- The month was now September. The rugged mountains still guarded their
- secret, and Roderick was beginning to fear that the quest for his father’s
- mine was indeed going to be a vain one. But there came an interlude to his
- range-riding and gold-dreaming. The state conventions were approaching.
- Even love became a minor matter to politics. The air was surcharged with
- electricity.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXV.—RUNNING FOR STATE SENATOR
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>T BREAKFAST table
- one morning Roderick noticed in the <i>Encampment Herald</i> a featured
- article about the forthcoming Republican convention.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes,” replied Grant, when Roderick called his attention
- to it, “this convention trouble has been brewing for some time.
- Personally, as you know, I am a Republican, even though my paper, the <i>Dillon
- Doublejack</i>, is a dyed-in-the-wool Democratic organ.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What trouble,” asked Roderick, “can there possibly be
- about a county convention?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It’s a senatorial convention,” explained Grant. “There
- is an old saying,” he went on, “that every dog has his day.
- But unfortunately politically speaking there are more dogs than days, and
- when two or three contestants try to get in on the same day, why, somebody
- is going to get bitten. There is only one state senatorial job from this
- district but there may be half-a-dozen fellows who feel called upon to
- offer themselves upon the political altar of their country.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have noticed a good many fellows down from the hills recently,”
- replied Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that’s politics,” said Grant. “They take a
- lay off from their work in the hills—come down here to fill up on
- free political whiskey furnished by the various candidates. Oh, take it
- from me,” said Grant, looking wise and shaking his head, “these
- delegates are a booze-fighting bunch for fair.”
- </p>
- <p>
- For a moment or two the journalistic oracle busied himself with his toast
- and butter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You watch the columns of my paper,” he resumed. “I’m
- going to show up these whiskey drinking, habits of the delegates good and
- plenty in this week’s issue of the <i>Doublejack.</i> In the
- language of Jim Rankin I get a heap peevish with all this political
- foolishness. Still,” Grant went on, “I presume it is a part of
- the political machinery of the frontier. One thing,” he concluded,
- “we all become unduly excited in these ante-convention days.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Political excitement had indeed waxed warm, and the little mining town had
- seemingly ceased to think about its mines, its great smelting plant, rich
- strikes in the hills and everything else—even the cattle men and the
- sheep men appeared to have forgotten their feuds together with their
- flocks and herds in the general excitement over the nomination for state
- senator from southern Carbon County.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones in his Doublejack editorials made emphatic and urgent appeal
- to the people to remember the doctrines of the old Simon-pure Jacksonian
- democracy and agree upon a good Democratic nominee. With a split in the
- Republican ranks the chances were never better for the election of a
- Democratic senator. He pointed out that if Bragdon won the nomination the
- Carlisle clique would secretly knife the Bragdon forces at the polls by
- voting the Democratic ticket, and on the other hand if Carlisle should
- best Bragdon in the nominating contest then the Bragdon following would
- retaliate by supporting the Democratic nominee so as to defeat Carlisle in
- the end.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the Republican side W. Henry Carlisle, the astute lawyer, was backed by
- the smelter interests, while Ben Bragdon, the eloquent, was supported by
- the antismelter forces generally and also by Earle Clemens, editor of the
- <i>Encampment Herald,</i> one of the best known and most highly respected
- party leaders in the state.
- </p>
- <p>
- The so-called smelter interests were certainly discredited because of the
- domineering insolence of W. B. Grady and his unfair treatment of the men.
- Not only did Grady practice every sort of injustice upon the employees of
- the great smelting plant in all its various departments, but he also
- quarreled with the ranchmen in the valley whenever he had dealings with
- them even to the extent of buying a load of hay.
- </p>
- <p>
- As convention day approached there was a noticeable feeling of unrest and
- nervousness. Factional strife was running at high tension.
- </p>
- <p>
- The wise men of the party said they could plainly see that unless harmony
- in the Republican ranks obtained at the convention the nominee would be
- defeated at the polls, and that if Ben Bragdon’s nomination were
- insisted upon by his friends without in some way conciliating the Carlisle
- faction the Democrats would be almost certain to win at the following
- November’s elections.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was pretty generally conceded that Ben Bragdon, controlled the
- numerical strength of the delegates, but the wiseacres would ask in their
- solicitude: “Is it wisdom to take such a chance? Does it not invite
- a split in the ranks of our party? In other words, does it not mean defeat
- for the Republican candidate on election day?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Carlisle was a power to be reckoned with, and had a clannish, determined
- following in political affairs, and although he and his friends might be
- outnumbered and beaten in the nominating convention, yet what would follow
- if Bragdon’s nomination were forced upon them? What would be the
- result? Would not Carlisle’s following secretly slash the rival they
- had been unable to defeat at the nominating convention?
- </p>
- <p>
- A “dark horse” seemingly was the only way out of the dilemma,
- and the more conservative delegates insisted that Bragdon and his friends
- must be brought to understand and recognize the possibilities of almost
- certain defeat unless harmony could be insured; otherwise Bragdon must be
- compelled to withdraw.
- </p>
- <p>
- Early in the morning before the day named for the senatorial convention to
- assemble at Rawlins the delegates at Encampment and several hundred
- friends of the respective candidates started overland for the convention
- city.
- </p>
- <p>
- There were two roads from Encampment to Rawlins—one that branched
- off from the so-called main road and went along the Platte River bottom.
- The distance by either route was about sixty miles. Carlisle and his
- following went one road, while Bragdon and his following traveled by the
- other road, both arriving at the hotel in Rawlins at the same time with
- panting horses. It was a mad race, each faction trying to show supremacy
- over the other even at the cost of horseflesh.
- </p>
- <p>
- The delegates gathered in knots of three and four in the lobby of the
- hotel, in the barroom and in the private rooms during the afternoon and
- evening before convention day.
- </p>
- <p>
- The trains had arrived from the East and the West, and the delegates from
- all over the senatorial district were present and ready for the fray that
- was certain to come off the following day—indeed, Rawlins, the
- county seat, was alive with politicians and the Ferris House, the leading
- hotel of the place, was a beehive of activity. The Democratic spectators
- were jubilant and made their headquarters at Wren’s saloon.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was at the Ferris House that W. Henry Carlisle had opened his
- headquarters in opposition to Ben Bragdon. The Carlisle people said they
- had no alternative candidate. Any one of a score of men might be named in
- the district, each of whom would be satisfactory; in fact, anyone
- excepting Ben Bragdon, provided, of course, it was found that Carlisle
- could not be nominated, which they were far from conceding.
- </p>
- <p>
- Bragdon and Carlisle had often before locked horns in hotly contested
- lawsuits up in the-hills, but in addition to their legal fights for
- supremacy there had been one special controversy that had resulted in a
- big financial loss for which each held the other responsible. It involved
- a bitter fight over a mining claim wherein both Bragdon and Carlisle had
- financial interests, and both had finally lost. It was a rich property and
- had by decree of the courts been awarded to a third party. But the
- decision did not lessen the feud. The impelling motive in their political
- contest was not half so much, perhaps, for the honor of being state
- senator as it was a consuming desire in the heart of each to best and lick
- the other.
- </p>
- <p>
- Some of the delegates, even those who were inclined to be friendly to
- Bragdon’s candidacy, acknowledged that seemingly he had made no
- effort to pacify either Carlisle or his friends, and thus, in a way, had
- proven himself deficient as a political leader and standard-bearer for the
- party.
- </p>
- <p>
- Others claimed that a reconciliation was impossible, that the breach was
- entirely too wide to be patched up at the eleventh hour. Still others were
- of the opinion that if the Bragdon forces would concede the chairmanship
- of the convention to Carlisle and his friends and thus give substantial
- evidence of a desire to harmonize and be friendly, past differences could
- be adjusted, with the result not only of Bragdon’s nomination but
- his election as well.
- </p>
- <p>
- Those high in the leadership of the Bragdon forces laughed incredulously
- and scorned to consider such a compromising surrender, and further
- expressed their disbelief in the sincerity of Carlisle and his crowd even
- if the Bragdon following were willing to make such a concession.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” said Big Phil Lee, Bragdon’s chief lieutenant,
- “I’m a Kentucky Democrat, boys, as you all know, but in this
- fight I’m for Bragdon—a Bragdon Republican—and we’ve
- got the whip-hand and by the Eternal we will hold it. We Bragdon fellows
- have already agreed upon a chairman and a secretary for both the temporary
- and permanent organizations of tomorrow’s convention, and we have
- selected Charlie Winter to name Bragdon in a nominating speech that will
- be so dangnation eloquent—well, it will simply carry everybody off
- their feet. He is the boy that can talk, you bet he is. Oh, you bet we’ve
- got ‘em licked, Carlisle and all his cohorts. And let me tell you
- something else,” continued Big Phil Lee, gesticulating, “we’ll
- hold them responsible for the final result. If Bragdon’s not
- elected, it will be because Carlisle and his gang knife him at the polls.
- Just let them do such a dirty contemptible piece of political chicanery
- and they’ll be marked men ever afterwards in this senatorial
- district, and not one of them could be elected even to the office of dog
- pelter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVI.—UNEXPECTED POLITICAL HARMONY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS just such
- talk as Big Phil Lee’s that kept the Bragdon forces lined up and
- defiant to the point of an open rupture and a total disregard for the
- minority, while the Democrats cheered Big Phil Lee’s remarks with
- enthusiastic hoorays.
- </p>
- <p>
- The individual who really held the destiny of the party that year in the
- hollow of his hand and within the next few hours proved himself the Moses
- to lead all factions from the paths of bickering into the highway of
- absolute harmony, was the newspaper man, Earle Clemens. All through the
- evening hours the editor of the <i>Herald</i> had been a most eloquent
- listener. He was on good terms with everybody, jovial and mixed with all
- factions, and yet was scrupulously careful to avoid giving any expression
- of advice or stating an opinion. He had, however, been very outspoken in
- his editorial advocacy for harmony.
- </p>
- <p>
- Earle Clemens was not only known and respected all over the state as an
- able newspaper man, but he was the possessor of a rich tenor voice that
- had delighted many an audience up in the hills, and then, too, he had
- composed the melody of the state song, entitled “Wyoming”—all
- of which tended to his great popularity and powerful influence.
- </p>
- <p>
- While it was quite generally known that Clemens was perhaps closer in his
- friendship for Bragdon than any other man in the district, dating from way
- back when the generous-hearted young lawyer had helped Clemens at a time
- and in a way that money could not buy or repay, yet the editor of the <i>Herald</i>
- had all along insisted that unless the Bragdon sympathizers effected a
- reconciliation with the Carlisle crowd, it virtually meant, if Bragdon’s
- nomination were forced upon the convention, a Democratic victory at the
- coming November election.
- </p>
- <p>
- In his last editorial, before the convention was to assemble, he had, in
- reply to Democratic newspaper gibes about a high old row which was likely
- to obtain at the oncoming Republican convention, branded the writers one
- and all as political falsifiers. He boldly announced that not a single
- discordant note would be heard when the Republican host came to nominate
- its standard bearer, and furthermore that the choice would be emphasized
- by a unanimous vote of the delegates. And in the final event the
- Republican candidate, he declared, would be elected by such an
- overwhelming popular vote that it would make the false Democratic prophets
- and bolting Republican malcontents, if there were any, “hunt the
- tall timber.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Democratic press in reply had said that the editor of the <i>Herald</i>
- was whistling to keep up his courage, and of course much amusement had
- been caused by the spirited controversy. So when the eventful day arrived
- fully as many Democrats journeyed to Rawlins to see the fun as there were
- Republican delegates. Of course, as good Democrats, they lost no
- opportunity to help embitter the two factions and widen the breach between
- the Bragdon and the Carlisle forces.
- </p>
- <p>
- Editor Earle Clemens, however, had ideas of his own that he told to no
- one. The electric light was shining in his room long after midnight and
- his small hand typewriter, which he always carried in his grip, was busy
- clicking away—presumably writing copy for the columns of his paper.
- What really occurred however, was this: He wrote two letters on the hotel
- stationery—one addressed to Hon. Ben Bragdon, and the other
- addressed to Hon. W. Henry Carlisle, and the envelopes were marked
- private.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the letters were duly typewritten, he placed an electric light under
- a pane of glass with which he had provided himself, elevating the glass by
- supporting the ends with a couple of books, and then from letters that he
- had at some former time received from both aspirants cleverly traced and
- signed the signature of W. Henry Carlisle to one letter and in like manner
- signed the signature of Ben Bragdon to the other letter—yes, brazen
- forgeries.
- </p>
- <p>
- After inclosing them in their respective envelopes, he stole softly out
- into the hallway and slipped one under the door of Carlisle’s room
- and the other under the door of Bragdon’s room. Then he went
- downstairs and bribed the night clerk to call both Bragdon and Carlisle at
- sharp fifteen minutes before six o’clock. This done, Clemens
- hastened back to his own apartment for a few hours’ sleep, wondering
- as he disrobed if the “end would justify the means.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is no question,” he said to himself as he climbed into
- the bed, “but that the Republican ox is in the ditch and heroic
- measures are necessary.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The following morning, when W. Henry Carlisle was awakened by the night
- clerk calling out softly the hour of seven o’clock, he hastily arose
- and began dressing, but before he had half finished he spied the letter
- that had been pushed under his door. Picking it up, he broke the seal and
- this is what he read:
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear Carlisle:—
- </p>
- <p>
- “It probably requires more bravery to make an apology and to ask to
- be forgiven than it does to settle differences between gentlemen by the
- now antiquated ‘code.’
- </p>
- <p>
- “I here and now tender my apologies for any unkind words I may in
- the past have spoken derogatory to you, and as an evidence of my candor
- will pledge you the support of myself and friends for both temporary and
- permanent chairman at tomorrow’s convention, if you reciprocate this
- offer of a reconciliation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you are big enough and broad enough and generous enough to
- accept this overture and desire to bury all past differences and from now
- on work in harmony together, each helping the other, as did Jonathan and
- David of old, why, the opportunity is offered, and we will let bygones be
- bygones.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you accept this apology, meet me at the hotel bar early tomorrow
- morning and merely extend your hand of friendship in greeting. I will
- understand; but please do not humiliate me by mentioning the fact, even to
- your best friends, that I have written this letter, and above all do not
- refer to it at our meeting tomorrow morning or at any future time. It is
- quite enough if these old differences are wiped off the slate between you
- and myself without commenting, or permitting comments to be made. I am not
- unmindful, Carlisle, that you are a great big able man and I want you to
- be my friend, and I wish to be yours. You have the power to make my
- nomination for state senator unanimous.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have the honor of subscribing myself
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very sincerely yours,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ben Bragdon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Across the hall Ben Bragdon was also reading a letter, which was almost a
- duplicate of the one that Carlisle was perusing, except that the
- conditions were reversed. Carlisle, in his letter of apology, offered to
- support Bragdon for the nomination, provided the hatchet was buried and
- the Bragdon forces would support him for temporary and permanent chairman.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the conclusion of the reading of these respective letters, each wore an
- exultant look of mastery on his face. For the time being at least all
- other differences were forgotten. In the hearts of both was the thought:
- “It’s mighty decent of him; he really is a bigger man than I
- thought.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Carlisle was the first man to leave his room and going quickly downstairs
- passed hurriedly into the hotel bar, which at that early hour was deserted
- except for the immaculate, white-aproned bartender.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What will it be this morning, Mr. Carlisle?” was the
- respectful inquiry of the attendant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing just yet,” replied Carlisle, “I am waiting for
- a friend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A moment later Ben Bragdon came in, whereupon both of these skillful
- politicians vied in meeting each other more than half-way and extending
- the right hand of good fellowship in kindliest greetings.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess we’re a little early,” stammered Bragdon in a
- futile attempt to appear at ease and free from embarrassment. They both
- laughed a little, and Carlisle remarked that fortunately the bartender was
- at his post even if the delegates were slow about getting started on the
- day’s work.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then the night clerk appeared and apologized for calling them so
- early. “Don’t know how it happened,” he stammered,
- “but I made a mistake of an hour. I called you gentlemen at six
- instead of seven. I hope you’ll not—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that’s all right,” exclaimed Bragdon and Carlisle
- in unison, as they good-naturedly waved him aside with their assurance
- that they were glad to be up and about.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A couple of Martini cocktails,” said Bragdon to the
- attendant. The cocktails were soon before them and tossed off in a jiffy,
- with the mutual salutation of “Here’s how.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come again, my man; make it half a dozen this time—three
- apiece,” said Carlisle, laughing and throwing down a twenty dollar
- gold piece. “Might as well have a good appetizer while we’re
- about it, and then we’ll relish our breakfast, good or bad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They chatted about the weather while the cocktails were being prepared.
- Finally the cocktails were pushed along the bar counter, three in front of
- each.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” said Bragdon, as they each lifted a glass.
- “Here’s to your good health!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks,” said Carlisle, “but since we have three
- cocktails apiece before us, suppose we drink to the past, the present, and
- the future!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good!” replied Bragdon, beaming with approval. “Splendid
- idea and happily put” He then ordered some of the highest priced
- cigars the house afforded and insisted on Carlisle filling his pockets,
- while he stowed away a goodly number himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon after the fourth cocktail disappeared, they started for the
- dining-room arm in arm, chatting away to one another like two old cronies
- who had just met after a long separation. They found seats at a table in a
- far corner and in their eagerness to say the right thing to one another
- took no notice that a few of the delegates were already at tables in
- different parts of the room. The delegates laid down their knives and
- forks and looked toward Bragdon and Carlisle in astonishment. Then they
- whispered among themselves, whereupon four or five left the room quietly
- and hastened with all speed to carry word to the other delegates, most of
- whom were still in their apartments.
- </p>
- <p>
- The news spread like wildfire, and a general scramble followed in
- hurriedly dressing and rushing downstairs to witness with their own eyes
- such an unexpected turn in political affairs between two men who had been
- at daggers drawn.
- </p>
- <p>
- Within a very short time the dining-room was well filled with delegates,
- but neither Bragdon nor Carlisle paid any attention; nor were they
- seemingly conscious that all eyes were turned upon them. Each was
- felicitating himself on the turn of events. Then, too, their amiability,
- as well as their appetites, had no doubt been whetted into keenest
- activity by the cocktails.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ben Bragdon, after breakfast, gave orders that the Hon. W. Henry Carlisle
- was to be made both temporary and permanent chairman, and Carlisle
- likewise announced that the Hon. Ben Bragdon was to be nominated as
- senatorial candidate by acclamation; and each issued his instructions in
- such a matter-of-fact, yet stubbornly blunt fashion, that no one offered
- any objection or asked any questions.
- </p>
- <p>
- The delegates looked at each other, nudged one another in the ribs and
- indulged in many a sly wink of suppressed amusement. But they all quickly
- recognized the political advantage insured by a coalition of the Bragdon
- and Carlisle forces, and the utter dismay this would cause in the camp of
- the Democrats. Therefore they all became “programme” men and
- took their orders meekly. So when the convention finally met and got down
- to business with Carlisle presiding, it at once proceeded to nominate Ben
- Bragdon by a unanimous vote.
- </p>
- <p>
- Seemingly everybody cheered on the slightest provocation and everybody was
- in excellent good nature, and after the convention had completed its
- labors and adjourned, it was conceded to have been one of the most
- harmonious political gatherings ever held in the state. Thus was the
- prediction of Earle Clemens, the newspaper scribe, fulfilled to the very
- letter.
- </p>
- <p>
- The convention over, the delegates drifted back to the Ferris House and
- not long after Big Phil Lee called at Clemens’ room. The editor was
- picking away at his typewriter, preparing a report for the columns of his
- paper. Grant Jones, Roderick Warfield, and two or three others were in the
- room, smoking and talking. But Clemens paid no attention, so intent was he
- on his work. Big Phil Lee, who without doubt had been Bragdon’s
- loudest shouter, said: “Say, Clemens, I compliment you on your
- prophetic editorials. I reckon you are writing another one. You said the
- convention would be harmonious, and how in the demnition bow-wows your
- prophecy happened to come true nobody knows. But it did.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks,” replied Clemens, in his light-hearted jovial way,
- and then looking out of the window for a moment, added: “I say, Lee,
- don’t it beat hell what a little clever horse sense will accomplish
- at times in a political convention?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean by that?” asked Big Phil, quickly. “You
- seem to be posted. By gad! I think it’s high time I was taken into
- the inner councils myself and had the seemingly inexplainable made clear
- to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Search me,” replied Clemens in a subdued voice, as he bit the
- tip of another cigar and struck a match. “Neither Bragdon nor
- Carlisle has invited me into any of their secret conferences.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Big Phil Lee looked a bit incredulous, shook his head in a nonplussed sort
- of way and said: “Well, so long, boys. I’m goin’ down to
- the hotel parlor where Bragdon is holding his reception. They are falling
- over one another congratulating Carlisle about as much as they are
- Bragdon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As the door closed behind him, Clemens looked up from his typewriter and
- said to Grant Jones, laughingly: “Say, Grant, remember what the Good
- Book says?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Says lots of things—what do you refer to?” asked Grant
- </p>
- <p>
- Clemens replied: “Blessed are the peacemakers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones came over close to him and said: “Look here, Clemens.”
- And he fixed him with his eyes as if searching for an answer to that which
- was veiled in mystery. But Clemens stood the ordeal and presently Jones
- burst out laughing: “It’s all right, Clemens, the <i>Herald</i>
- has sure put one over on the <i>Doublejack</i> this time. I don’t
- know how it was done, and maybe I never will know. But take it from me, it
- was clever—damned clever!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Clemens made no reply, but removing his cigar winked at Roderick Warfield
- who was sitting near, puffed rings of smoke toward the ceiling and
- afterwards whistled softly the air of “Wyoming,” the state
- song, even while he smiled the smile of a knowledge that surpasses
- understanding.
- </p>
- <p>
- Delegates and sightseers, Republicans and Democrats, who had journeyed to
- see a hotly contested nomination, ostensibly for the state senate but
- really for political supremacy, were good-natured and jovial when they
- started on the return trip. Big Phil Lee shouted to Earle Gemens who was
- on the other stage and said: “We are such a happy family, I presume
- we will return on the same road instead of dividing and horse racing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Clemens and the other returning passengers on the hurricane deck laughed
- good-naturedly and said: “Sure, we will stick together from now on
- and fight the Democrats.” Presently the crowd commenced singing
- vigorously—if a bunch of discordant voices could be so described—various
- popular airs of the day.
- </p>
- <p>
- That evening a reception was given Ben Bragdon at the hotel Bonhomme in
- Encampment, and the affair was presided over by W. Henry Carlisle. It was
- interpreted that the breach between these two attorneys had been
- effectually healed to the discomfiture of the Democrats. But no one save
- and except Earle Clemens knew how it had been brought about.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick Warfield slipped away early from the scene of jubilation, and
- carried the glorious news to the Shields’ ranch that Ben Bragdon had
- been unanimously nominated. Barbara, with the flush of radiant joy on her
- face, could no longer deny the soft impeachment, and he boldly
- congratulated her on her coming wedding to the senator-elect for southern
- Wyoming.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVII.—THE UPLIFTING OF HUMANITY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE following
- evening Roderick called at the Major’s home, and found a visitor
- there, a stranger yet very well known to him by reputation. This was no
- other than the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the travelling parson, of whose
- fame as a doer of good deeds at the cost of complete self-sacrifice and
- self-denial, Roderick had often heard.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Delighted to see you, Roderick,” said the Major. “Come
- right in. You know, of course, the most noted man in the camp—the
- man with the saddle bags. What? Never met yet? Well, it is a great
- pleasure to me to make you two acquainted.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After cordial greetings had been exchanged Major Hampton continued:
- “We have just been discussing some of the great problems of
- humanity. Pardon me, my dear friend, but I wish to say to Mr. Warfield
- that if I were called upon today to name the greatest humanitarian with
- whom I am acquainted I certainly should say—the Reverend Stephen
- Grannon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You do me too much honor,” interposed the parson hastily.
- “You compliment me far too highly.” Major Hampton went on as
- if the Reverend Stephen Grannon had made no interruption: “The
- school of humanitarianism is small in number, but the combined results of
- their labors directed through the channels of service in the behalf of
- humanity bear the stamp of greatness. The sincere lover of his fellows
- recognizes that the poor of this world have borne and are still bearing
- the burdens of the race. The poor have built all the monuments along the
- world’s highway of civilization. They have produced all the wealth
- from the hills and from the soil The poor of the world have endured the
- hardships of conquering the wilds and erecting outposts on the border of
- civilization. Indeed they conquer everything except the fetters that bind
- them and hold them as an asset of great corporate power that is heartless
- and soulless and indifferent to the privations and sufferings of the
- individual.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Reverend Stephen Grannon gave it as his view that the mission of a
- humanitarian was not to hinder the world’s progress, nor even to
- prejudice anyone against the fortune gathering of the rich, but rather to
- dispell the darkness of injustice and assist the great army of the
- impoverished to a better understanding of their rights as well as their
- powers to conquer the evils that have throughout the ages crept into and
- clung to our civilization.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Poverty,” he remarked, “is the cause of much misery and
- often the impelling motive to immorality and crime in many forms. Men
- often sell and barter their votes and birthrights in this free country to
- bribe givers—wily politicians—while our girls are not
- infrequently lured into selling their very souls for ribbons and the
- gaudiness and shams of the world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is the cure?” asked Roderick, greatly interested.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The cure,” responded the preacher, “is the regeneration
- of mankind through the leavening and uplifting power of the principles
- taught by the humble humanitarian of Galilee, the great prince of
- righteousness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” chimed in Major Hampton, “the Reverend Stephen
- Grannon has given you the solution for the problem. Add to this a higher
- education. The more highly educated the individual,” continued the
- Major, “the greater the crime if they break the law.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But,” said Roderick, “this is a free country and we
- have free schools. Why do not the poor have a better education?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Reverend Grannon turned quickly to Roderick and replied: “You come
- with me to the twenty-odd mining camps, Mr. Warfield, surrounding this
- town of Encampment—come with me up in the hills where there are no
- schools—see the little children growing up in carelessness because
- of the impossibility on the part of their fathers and mothers to provide
- them with school privileges. In the school room the teacher becomes the
- overseer not alone of their studies but of their morals as well. Let me
- take you down in the mines,” he continued, speaking with great
- earnestness, “and see the boys from twelve years to twenty-one years
- working day after day, many of them never having had school privileges and
- therefore unable to read or write.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused for just a moment, then resumed: “It brings to my mind
- what a very wise man once wrote. It was King Solomon, and among many other
- splendid truths he said: ‘The rich man’s wealth is his strong
- city; the destruction of the poor is their poverty.’.rdquo;
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick,” said the Major as he lit his meerschaum and blew
- the smoke towards the ceiling, “my heart is very light tonight, for
- I have arranged with the assistance of the Reverend Stephen Grannon to
- help relieve this lamentable situation in those mining camps up in the
- mountains away from school privileges. I have recently taken the matter up
- with the county commissioners and have agreed to build twenty
- schoolhouses. Each schoolhouse will consist of two rooms. One will be for
- the smaller children during the day and also to serve as a night school
- for the young men and young women who are employed in manual labor during
- working hours. The other room is a library sufficiently large and spacious
- to accommodate the young men of each mining community and thus keep them
- away from saloons, brothels, and prize ring attractions. One hour each
- evening will be taken up by a reader and a regular course of entertaining
- books will be read aloud in a serial way. The books in the library will be
- loaned out on tickets and the usual library rules observed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Splendid,” said Roderick, “that sounds practical to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is practical,” said the Reverend Stephen Grannon, “and
- thanks to Major Buell Hampton this plan which I have cherished for so many
- years will soon be put into effect.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Looking at his watch he turned to the Major and said: “By the way,
- Major, I have a couple of poor families to visit tonight. I have promised
- them, and they will be disappointed if I do not come.” He arose as
- he said this.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My good friend,” replied Buell Hampton, “I am sorry you
- cannot remain longer with us, but I would not keep you from your duties.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Reverend Stephen Grannon put on his top coat, as the evenings were
- growing chilly, and after shaking hands took his departure.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he was gone and the door closed, Major Hampton turned to Roderick and
- holding up one hand said reverently: “Of such is the kingdom of
- heaven. In all my lifetime, Roderick, I have never known another such
- splendid character. I have closely observed his work ever since I came to
- this camp. Perhaps in his entire lifetime he has not collected fifty
- dollars in money. He says he does not want money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But he must have money to live on.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Above all money considerations,” said the Major, looking into
- the darkened corner of his living room, “he wants to save souls here
- on this earth so that he will have more jewels in his crown over yonder—these
- are his own words. There is not a family in the surrounding country that
- he is not acquainted with. If there is sickness he is the first one there.
- Where the greatest poverty abounds you will find him. He goes out and
- solicits alms for those in distress, but keeps nothing for himself
- excepting the frailest living. Go through the valley or up in the mountain
- gorges or still farther up in the mining camps where the snow never melts
- from the shady side of the log cabins, and you will find this noble
- character, Reverend Stephen Grannon, doing his good work for the poor—ministering
- to their wants and endeavoring to lift humanity into higher walks,
- physically, morally, and spiritually.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am glad you have told me all this,” replied Roderick.
- “It increases my already high opinion of the parson.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is a veritable shepherd among the people,” continued Major
- Hampton. “Reverend Grannon is the true flockmaster of Wyoming. The
- people are frequently unruly, boisterous, intemperate and immoral, yet he
- treats them with greatest consideration and seeks to persuade and lead
- them away from their sins and transgressions. Yes, he is a great
- flockmaster—he is well named The Flockmaster.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Both were silent for a few moments. Then the Major, as if suddenly
- remembering something, looked up and said: “He tells me Scotty
- Meisch is getting along fine over in the <i>Dillon Doublejack</i> printing
- office.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am glad to hear that,” exclaimed Roderick. “It is
- good to have saved at least one lad from going the way of those outlaws of
- Jack Creek. I have never forgotten that ghastly midnight scene—the
- massacred sheep and the burning herders’ wagons.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, what can you expect?” asked the Major. “When the
- social waters are poisoned at the fountain head, the whole course of the
- stream becomes pernicious. In this state of Wyoming the standard of
- political decency is not high. The people have no real leaders to look up
- to. The United States Senator, F. E. Greed, sets a pernicious example to
- the rising generation. He violates laws in scores of instances because of
- his greed and grafting proclivities, and his bribed supporters go on year
- after year supporting him. What the state needs is a leader. High-minded
- leaders are priceless. Their thoughts and their deeds are the richest
- legacy to a state or a community. Great leaders are beacon lights kindled
- upon the mountain peaks of the centuries, illuminating the mental and
- moral atmosphere of civilization. The history of the world—of a
- nation, of a state and of a community—is the story of their epochal
- deeds, while man’s advancement is only the lengthened shadow of
- their moral, spiritual and temporal examples. Leaders come up from the
- crowd, from among the poor and the lowly. They are immediately recognized
- by the great mass of the people and invariably crowned, although sometimes
- it is a crown of thorns that they are compelled to wear and endure for
- upholding priceless principles in their endeavor to lead humanity to a
- higher plane. However,” concluded the Major, “the world is
- growing better. The nimble-fingered, tilltapping, porch-climbing derelicts
- in politics and commercialism are becoming unpopular. The reprehensible
- methods in all avenues of life are being condemned instead of condoned—the
- goats are being cast out from among the sheep.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You interest me very much, Major,” said Roderick. “Your
- ideals are so high, your aims so decent and right, that it is a pleasure
- to hear you talk. I am a firm believer,” Roderick went on, “in
- the justice of the doctrine that all men are created free and equal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a sad commentary,” replied Major Hampton, “in
- this land where liberty is cherished and our Government corner-stoned upon
- the theory that all men are free and equal, that even the soberest of us
- are compelled, my dear Roderick, to regard such affirmations as
- blasphemous. To illustrate: An employee in one of the big manufacturing
- combinations committed a burglary—almost petty larceny in its
- smallness—another case of Jean Valjean stealing bread for his
- children—and yet he was tried before an alleged court of justice and
- sent to the penitentiary for ten years. The head of the same institution
- pillaged multiplied millions from the poor in unjust and lawless
- extortions. When he was caught red-handed in his lawbreaking, instead of
- sharing a prison cell with the poor man our courts indulgently permitted
- this great highwayman six months’ time in which to reorganize and
- have legalized his methods of stealing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Such rank injustice,” exclaimed Roderick, “makes my
- blood tingle with indignation. It is surely high time a determined crusade
- was led against the privileged classes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major made no reply but after a little, looking up from the open grate
- and turning to Roderick, he asked him if he was aware that the next day
- was the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Encampment Mine and
- Smelting Company.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, is it?” said Roderick. “Some time ago I noticed
- something in the newspapers about the meeting, but as it was of no
- particular moment to me I had forgotten it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” said Major Hampton, “and I guess I will now tell
- you that I have been holding a secret from you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That so?” exclaimed Roderick questioningly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will remember,” the Major went on, “that I left you
- in Denver after we made the big ore shipment and that I was away for three
- or four weeks. Well, I went to New York, employed two or three big brokers
- down on Wall Street, and commenced buying Encampment Mine and Smelter
- Company stock on the exchange. Working jointly with a new friend I have
- discovered, a professional man of finance yet a true friend of humanity, I
- have absolute control of the stock today.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have?” exclaimed Roderick. “You own a control of
- the stock in this great smelter and the Ferris-Haggerty mine?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, the whole enterprise is virtually in our ownership. Well,
- something is going to happen tomorrow at the stockholders’ meeting
- which I fear will not be pleasant to certain individuals. But duty compels
- me to pursue a course I have mapped out. My chosen work in life is to
- serve the poor, yet in trying to fulfill this mission I harbor no
- resentful thoughts against the rich as a class nor do I intend for them
- any unfair treatment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If the people only knew,” remarked Roderick, softly, “you
- are without doubt one of the richest men in this part of the country and
- yet you so honestly prefer the simple life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There are two kinds of rich people,” continued the Major.
- “One class is arrogant and unfeeling; they hoard money by fair means
- or foul for money’s sake and for the power it brings. The other
- class use their wealth not to oppress but to relieve the worthy poor.
- Personally, Warfield, I do not regard the money which accident has made
- mine as being in any sense a personal possession. Rather do I hold it as a
- trust fund. Of course I am grateful. The money enlarges my opportunity to
- do things for my fellows that I wish to do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major paused a moment, then resumed: “Do you remember, Roderick,
- when I first told you, Jim Rankin and the others about my hidden mine that
- I said there were six men in the world whom I held in highest esteem?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I remember well,” assented Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, five of you were present then—Tom Sun, Boney Earnest,
- and Grant Jones, with yourself and Jim. For the absent sixth one I
- specifically reserved a share in my prosperity, although at the time I
- withheld his name. Now you know it He is the one entitled to most
- consideration among us all—the Reverend Stephen Grannon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course he is,” concurred Roderick, with hearty conviction.
- “He can do more good in the world than all the rest of us together,
- yourself excepted, Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At present, perhaps,” said Buell Hampton. “But let his
- shining example be an incentive to you all—to us all. Well, in a
- confidential way, I will tell you, Roderick, that when in New York I also
- purchased a large block of bonds that yields an income of something like
- $20,000 per year. This income I have legally turned over with proper
- writings to the Reverend Stephen Grannon, and already I think you will
- discover a vast improvement in the mining camps and throughout the valleys
- among the poor. For Stephen Grannon is a godly man and a true
- humanitarian.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My word, but that’s great—that’s grand!”
- murmured Roderick with deep enthusiasm. And he gazed at Buell Hampton’s
- noble soul-lit face admiringly.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major rose to his feet—his usual method of intimating that he
- wished to be alone. Roderick grasped his hand, and would have spoken
- further, but Buell Hampton interrupted him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say no more, my dear boy. I am glad that you have been interested
- in what I had to say tonight. The veil was lifted and you saw me as I am—anxious
- to be of benefit to my fellows. I shall indeed be proud if you find these
- doctrines not merely acceptable to yourself, but in some degree at least
- stimulative in your acts toward the worthy poor and lowly as the years
- come and go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick walked slowly along the street deep in thought over Buell
- Hampton’s words, he came suddenly upon W. B. Grady and several well
- dressed strangers at a street corner. The visitors, he surmised, were
- eastern directors of the big smelting company who had come to Encampment
- for the stockholders’ meeting on the morrow.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXVIII.—JUSTICE FOR THE WORKERS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE next morning at
- ten o’clock, Major Buell
- </p>
- <p>
- Hampton walked down to the smelter office. He was met at the door of the
- directors’ room by the general manager, Mr. W. B. Grady. Despite a
- bold front Grady looked careworn and anxious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold on there,” he said as the Major started to enter.
- “What do you want?” He spoke roughly. “This is a meeting
- of some gentlemen who are interested in the Smelter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said the Major. “I came down to attend the
- stockholders’ meeting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you can’t go in,” said Grady. “Stockholders’
- meetings of this company are private. We do not furnish entertainment and
- gossip for onlookers like a justice of the peace court.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That may all be true—I hope it is true, Mr. Grady,”
- said the Major, and he looked him in the eyes with more of pity than of
- anger depicted on his face. The crafty manager cringed before the critical
- inspection.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am here strictly on business,” continued Buell Hampton.
- “I am a stockholder.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You a stockholder in our Smelter Company?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have that honor,” replied the Major, tersely. “Or at
- least I hold powers of attorney from the largest group of stockholders in
- your company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- An ashen grey crept into Grady’s face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you mean?” he faltered. “You are not a
- shareholder of record on our books.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, but you will find as shareholders of record the names of
- Charles T. Brown, George Edward Reed, Herbert Levy, Daniel W. Higbee, and
- a few others about whom I need not bother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A new light broke over Grady. He looked more sickly than ever.
- </p>
- <p>
- “These are recent purchasers of stock,” he said, “in New
- York and also, if I remember rightly, in Iowa.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Precisely, and together these buyers now hold the controlling
- interest in your company. Here are the legal documents constituting me the
- attorney for all these men.” He drew a neat little packet of papers
- from the breast pocket of his coat. “In other words I am these men—I
- hold the controlling power, although I did not choose to disclose the fact
- until this morning. Now, will you please let me pass? Thank you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- If a pistol had been thrust against the ribs of W. B. Grady, he could not
- have looked more utterly scared. He had stepped aside to let the Major
- pass and now bluff and bluster changed swiftly to sycophancy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Major Hampton,” he said, in his most ingratiating
- manner. “Walk right in and let me introduce you to some of the other
- stockholders. Of course, only a few of them are here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major followed him into the directors’ room and was duly
- presented.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This,” said Grady with patronizing suavity, “is an old
- fellow townsman of ours here in Encampment and a friend of mine. Here,
- Major, take this chair,” insisted Grady. “You see we are all a
- happy family together.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton could not but contrast the fawning manner of the general
- manager before his superiors, the directors of the Company, with his
- notoriously overbearing and insolent treatment of the workingmen.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” said the chairman, “fortunately we have a very
- good manager.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you,” said Grady with increased affability.
- </p>
- <p>
- “For myself, I am pleased and delighted at the general manager’s
- report which I presume it will be in order now to have read. I think we
- have all seen it in advance.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major shook his head in dissent but made no comment.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thereupon the meeting was called to order, and after the preliminaries
- were concluded Mr. W. B. Grady proceeded to read a rather brief but very
- interesting annual report.
- </p>
- <p>
- His report was not only a business summary of a most successful fiscal
- year, but also abounded with more or less veiled laudations of himself in
- his capacity of manager.
- </p>
- <p>
- Attorney Wm. Henry Carlisle, who combined with his legal position a seat
- on the board of directors, advised that the election of a directorate for
- the ensuing year was in order. By this time it was known to the other
- shareholders present that Major Buell Hampton owned or represented a
- control of the stock. This rather upset the cut-and-dried program.
- </p>
- <p>
- W. B. Grady, addressing the chairman, said that he presumed Major Buell
- Hampton would appreciate being elected a member of the board of directors,
- and if the Company’s attorney, Mr. Carlisle, did not object perhaps
- it would be well for him to vacate his seat so as to make room for the new
- incumbent.
- </p>
- <p>
- Carlisle’s face grew very red at this attempted slight but he said
- nothing.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Buell Hampton arose, and addressing the chairman said: “Since
- I have acquired control of the stock of this Company, I have decided that
- Mr. Grady shall not be re-elected as a director. But in the first place I
- wish to ask of all stockholders present what their intentions are
- regarding the declaring of a dividend?”
- </p>
- <p>
- With this he resumed his seat.
- </p>
- <p>
- By every lineament on Grady’s face one could see that he was
- furious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I presume,” said the chairman, “that it would be proper
- to follow the suggestion of Mr. Grady, our general manager, and declare a
- dividend of seventy-two per cent on the capital stock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Buell Hampton, again addressing the chair, remarked that seventy-two
- per cent, was certainly a fat dividend. But for himself he had purchased a
- control of the Company’s stock for the purpose of introducing some
- innovations in its management, and in order that there might be no
- misunderstanding he felt it was now proper to present his views. If any of
- the directors were not in harmony, why, of course, it would be inadvisable
- for them to stand for re-election to a directorate over which he intended
- henceforth to exercise a close supervision.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I now wish to ask the directors of the Company this question,”
- added the Major. “What about Boney Earnest’s dividend?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused for a reply.
- </p>
- <p>
- For a moment the stockholders and representatives of stockholders present
- seemed almost dumfounded. They turned to the manager, Mr. Grady, who
- answered the Major by saying he did not know that Boney Earnest, the
- dismissed blast furnace foreman, was a stockholder or had any investment
- in the concern—“it was all news to him,” he added with a
- weak attempt at levity.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton had remained standing, and by silent consent all waited for
- him to reply to this statement.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, gentlemen,” he said quietly, “Boney Earnest may
- not be a stockholder of record. But all the same he had his all invested
- in this smelting plant. Day after day, during year after year, he stood
- before the blast furnace, doing work of a class which few men could
- endure. It is true he received a daily wage until the date of his
- dismissal, but he had invested in addition to his daily duties almost a
- life-time of ripe experience in the particular work he was doing for this
- concern. In short, he had his all—his strength, his brain and his
- experience—invested. In these circumstances I object,”
- continued Major Hampton, “to a dividend of seventy-two per cent. I
- notice from the manager’s report that he has made ample allowances
- for betterments, replacements, and surplus, and even with all these very
- proper provisions, the enormous possible dividend of seventy-two per cent,
- still remains. An original capital stock of $500,000 and an annual
- dividend of $360,000, certainly is a magnificent showing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton paused and all present clapped their hands gleefully, as if
- the Major was coming around to their way of thinking.
- </p>
- <p>
- After silence was restored he proceeded: “Money is worth probably
- from five per cent, to six per cent, per annum on solid, non-hazardous
- investments and at least double these figures or more on mining
- investments which must be regarded as extremely hazardous. It is not,
- however, worth seventy-two per cent. per annum. Therefore, gentlemen, we
- will declare a dividend of six per cent, on the capital stock, which will
- require $30,000. We will then add the capital stock to the pay roll. The
- pay roll for the last year in round numbers is $1,100,000. The capital
- stock is $500,000 or a total of both of $1,600,000. We will then declare
- the remaining $330,000 of earnings into a dividend on the entire
- $1,600,000 of capital stock and annual pay roll combined, which amounts to
- a little over twenty per cent. This will give to the shareholders of our
- company’s stock a little more than a twenty-six per cent, dividend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major sat down. Consternation was apparent on every countenance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major,” said one of the eastern directors, “may I ask
- you what would happen and what you would do in carrying out your
- altruistic dream if the earnings did not amount to even six per cent, on
- the money actually invested?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major arose again and with great politeness replied: “Probably
- we would not declare a dividend. If we had but $30,000 that could be
- legitimately applied to dividend purposes, the amount would belong to the
- stockholders. But anything above this preferred dividend to the
- shareholders should be declared on the annual pay roll combined with and
- added to the capital stock of the company, both classes of investors
- participating in the surplus over and above six per cent, preferred
- dividend. The question with me,” added the Major, “is this?
- How many of you directors are in sympathy with the suggestion I have made?”
- </p>
- <p>
- There came no answer, and he continued: “A while ago I expressed
- myself against your manager for a position on the directorate. I always
- have a reason for my decisions. It has come to me,” continued the
- Major, “that while the original cost of this plant may have been
- $500,000 yet by the wicked manipulation of the ‘system’ the
- original shareholders were completely frozen out—legally robbed if
- you please, of their investment and it is quite probable the Pennsylvania
- crowd, the present owners or at least those who were the owners before I
- purchased a control, paid very little in real money but much in duplicity
- and ripened experience in the ways of the fox and the jackal. I have
- learned on excellent authority that Mr. W. B. Grady, by stealth and
- cunning, secured the underlying bonds from one of the former builders of
- this great plant, and robbed him and left him penniless in his old age.
- Unless other means of restitution be devised, the reimbursing of those
- stolen sums out of my private purse will be one of my first duties and one
- of my greatest pleasures.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grady rose, his face flushed with passion. But Buell Hampton waved him
- down with his hand and calmly proceeded: “I will state another
- innovation. There are seven directors who control the destinies of this
- company. I now insist that the company’s attorney shall be
- instructed to have the by-laws so amended that the head of each
- department, beginning at the mine where we extract the ore, then the
- tramway which carries the ore to the smelter and all the various
- departments in the smelter including the converter—shall be elected
- annually by the workers themselves in each of the seven departments. In
- this way there will be seven foremen; and these seven foremen shall be
- officially recognized by the amended by-laws of this company as an
- advisory board of directors, entitled to sit and vote with the regular
- directors at each monthly meeting and likewise with the stockholders in
- their annual meeting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Had a bomb-shell been thrown into the stockholders’ meeting greater
- consternation could not have been evinced’. Finally Attorney
- Carlisle moved that an adjournment be taken until ten o’clock the
- next day, at which time the stockholders would re-assemble and further
- consider the unexpected and doubtless vital questions now under
- consideration. The motion prevailed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course the entire matter hinged first of all upon the election of a
- directorate. During the adjournment Attorney Carlisle, peeved at Grady’s
- readiness to drop him from the directorate, called on Major Hampton and
- assured him he was in accord with the views he had expressed and that his
- every suggestion could be legally complied with by amending the by-laws.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton, however, did not take the hint implied. He was courteous
- but firm. The old régime had to go—the management must be changed,
- lock, stock and barrel. Therefore there could be no further utilization of
- Mr. Carlisle’s services as attorney for the company. Baffled and
- discomfited the lawyer withdrew. He was full of indignation, not against
- Major Hampton, but against Grady, for he had warned the latter against
- selling a certain block of stock to part with which had jeopardized
- control of the corporation. But Grady, in need of money, had replied that
- there was no risk, the buying being sporadic and the existing directorate
- in high favor with the stockholders because of its ability and readiness
- to vote big dividends.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock had
- passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, Allen
- Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and Smelter
- Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing Grady and
- crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he sensed the
- danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been in reality
- for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had been caught
- quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able now to throw
- him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For once the fox
- had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, away from the
- tall timber.
- </p>
- <p>
- Carlisle had of late been too busy “doing politics,” and had
- allowed matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now
- the two old-time confederates were blaming each other—Carlisle
- denouncing Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding
- Carlisle for neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the
- real buyers of the shares being gradually transferred on the company’s
- stock books. The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of
- blocking the transfer of power into new hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the stockholders’ meeting reconvened the following morning,
- Major Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the
- directorate. They were—Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest
- and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the duties
- of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places to be
- filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old directors
- were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors became a
- unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both Grady and
- Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton’s views on corporations and dividends, and his new
- plan of management for the Smelter Company spread all over the camp with
- astonishing rapidity, and there was general rejoicing among the miners and
- laborers.
- </p>
- <p>
- One employee in the smelter who had been with the company for some three
- years made the discovery that, while he was receiving three dollars per
- day, which meant an annual income to himself and family of $1095, his
- dividend would bring him an extra lump sum of $219 annually.
- </p>
- <p>
- When figuring this out to his wife he said: “Think of the pairs of
- shoes it will buy for our kiddies, Bess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And the woman, an Irishwoman, had replied: “Bless the little darlin’s.
- And hats and coats as well, not to speak of ribbons for the girls. God
- bless the Major. Sure but he’s a wonderful man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Several workers sitting in a corner of the Red Dog saloon were calculating
- with pencil and paper their annual dividends on the already famous Buell
- Hampton plan.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Boys,” said one of them after they had their several accounts
- figured to the penny, “maybe we won’t make the dividend bigger
- next year—what?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I should say,” responded another. “I’ll do at
- least twice the work every day of the coming year, because there’s
- now an object for us poor devils to keep busy all the time. We’re
- sharing in the profits, that’s just what it means.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There’ll be a great reduction in breakage and waste,”
- remarked another employee.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The directors can leave it to us to make the next year’s
- dividend a dandy one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- These were just a few of the grateful encomiums flying around.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the day following the stockholders’ meeting the newly elected
- directors convened, all except Grant Jones, who was over at Dillon and had
- not yet been advised of his election. After Major Buell Hampton had been
- voted into the chair a communication from W. B. Grady was read, stating
- that he wished to know at once if the directors desired his services for
- the ensuing year; if so he required a written contract, and should the
- directors not be ready to comply with this ultimatum they could interpret
- this letter as a formal resignation. There was a general smile around the
- directors’ table at this bluffing acceptance of the inevitable. It
- was promptly moved, seconded, and carried unanimously that Mr. W. B. Grady
- be at once relieved from all further connection with the Smelter Company’s
- plant and business.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton then explained that in accordance with his scheme the men in
- the various departments would be invited at an early date to elect their
- foremen, and these foremen in turn would have the power, not to elect a
- general manager, but to recommend one for the final consideration of the
- directors. Until a permanent appointment was made he suggested that Boney
- Earnest, the blast furnace foreman dismissed by the late manager because
- of a personal quarrel, should take charge of the plant, he being a man of
- tried experience and worthy of absolute trust. This suggestion was
- promptly turned into a substantive motion and adopted by formal
- resolution. The meeting adjourned after Director Bragdon in his capacity
- as company attorney had been instructed to proceed immediately to the work
- of preparing the proper amendments to the by-laws and taking all legal
- steps necessary to put into operation the new plan.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus neither mine nor smelting plant was shut down, but everything went on
- without interruption and with greater vigor than before the momentous
- meetings of stockholders and directors. The only immediate visible effect
- of the company’s radical change in policy was Grady’s
- deposition from the post which had enabled him to exercise a cruel tyranny
- over the workingmen.
- </p>
- <p>
- And in the solitude of his home the dismissed manager, broken financially
- although those around him did not yet know it, was nursing schemes of
- revenge against Buell Hampton, the man of mystery who had humiliated him
- and ousted him from power.
- </p>
- <p>
- Where was his henchman, Bud Bledsoe?—that was the question throbbing
- in Grady’s brain. But Bud Bledsoe was now an outlaw among the hills,
- with a price on his head and a sheriff’s posse ready at a moment’s
- notice to get on his heels.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By God, I’ve got to find him,” muttered Grady. And that
- night, in the falling dusk, he rode out alone into the mountain
- fastnesses.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXIX.—SLEIGH BELLS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE morning after
- the directors’ meeting, when Roderick awakened and looked out of the
- window, he found the air filled with flakes of falling snow. He wasted no
- time over his toilet. Immediately after breakfast he bundled up snugly and
- warmly, went over to the livery stable and engaged a team and a sleigh.
- Soon after, the horses decorated with the best string of sleigh bells the
- livery could provide, he was holding the reins taut and sailing down
- through the main street of the little mining town headed for the country.
- He was going to the Shields ranch. Half a dozen invitations had been
- extended him during the past weeks, and he told himself he had been
- neglectful of his old employer.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he reached the ranch and his team was duly stabled, the sleigh run in
- out of the storm, he was cordially welcomed by the family before a roaring
- fire of cheerfulness, and a multitude of questions were poured upon him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why did you not come sooner and what about Major Hampton and the
- smelter? We have heard all sorts of wonderful things?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, what have you heard about the Major?” inquired Roderick,
- endeavoring to get a lead to the things that had evoked such surprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you,” said Barbara. “Papa heard of it the
- day before yesterday when he was in town. The stockholders were having a
- meeting, and people said it had turned out to the surprise of everyone
- that Major Hampton was the owner of a control of the company’s
- stock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick, “the rumor is correct. Great
- things have indeed happened. But haven’t you heard from Ben Bragdon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a word.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I suppose he has been too busy reconstructing the by-laws and
- the company’s affairs generally. Major Hampton has put him in as
- attorney. There’s a financial plum for you, Miss Barbara.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Mr. Carlisle?” she asked in great astonishment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Like W. B. Grady, he is down and out,” replied Roderick.
- “There’s been a clean sweep. And behold in me a full-blossomed
- member of the board of directors. Our chairman, the Major, has handed me
- over a small library of books about smelting of ores, company management,
- and so on. He tells me I’ve got to get busy and learn the business—that
- I’m slated as vice-president and assistant manager, or something of
- that kind. What do you think of all that, Mr. Shields? There’s a
- rise in the world for your cowboy and broncho-buster of a few months ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The cattle king and all the others warmly congratulated Roderick on his
- rising fortunes. Dorothy now took the lead in the conversation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You folks, keep still a moment until I ask Mr. Warfield just one
- question,” she said eagerly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh,” exclaimed Roderick, quickly, “I can answer the
- question. No, Grant Jones has not been over to Encampment for quite a
- while.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A general laugh followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has a devil over at his office,” added Roderick gravely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A what?” they exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A devil. You surely know what a devil in a printing office is? It
- is a young fellow who washes the ink from the rolls and cleans the type or
- something of that sort—sweeps out, makes fires and does a wholesale
- janitor business. If he is faithful for fifteen or twenty years, then he
- learns to set type and becomes a printer. Grant is breaking his new devil
- in. Scotty Meisch, formerly one of your father’s cowboys, is his
- name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, little Scotty,” exclaimed Barbara. “I remember him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, does that necessarily keep Grant away?” asked Dorothy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, he is not necessarily kept away. He is probably a believer,
- Miss Dorothy, that absence makes the heart grow fonder.’ I was very
- disappointed,” Roderick went hurriedly on, smiling, “that
- Grant was not in town to share the sleigh with me in coming over this
- morning. Of course he doesn’t know it yet, but he also has been
- elected as one of the directors of the Encampment Mine and Smelter
- Company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has?” exclaimed Dorothy, her face lighting: “My
- word, but he’ll be all puffed up, won’t he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no,” replied Roderick, “Grant is a very sensible
- fellow and he selects his friends and associates with marked
- discrimination.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that’s what I think,” concurred Dorothy
- emphatically.
- </p>
- <p>
- She was not a little embarrassed by a second ebullition of general
- laughter. There was a flush of rising color on her pretty cheeks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I don’t care,” she added bravely. “If I
- like anybody I let them know about it, and that’s all there is to be
- said.”
- </p>
- <p>
- While luncheon was in progress, Roderick suggested that as the sleighing
- was very good and his sleigh a very large one—the seat exceedingly
- wide—the young ladies should come sleigh-riding with him in the
- afternoon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Splendid,” shouted the sisters in unison. “Certainly,
- we will be delighted provided mother has no objections.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, good-naturedly. “This first
- snow of the season makes me feel like having a sleigh-ride myself. But,
- there, your seat certainly won’t take four of us, and I know that
- Mr. Shields is too busy to think of getting out his sleigh this afternoon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I’LL tell you what I’ll do, Mrs. Shields,”
- said Roderick, stirring his coffee. “I’ll take you for a ride
- first. We will go as far as the river and back again, and then if the
- young ladies are real good why of course I’ll give them the next
- spin.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no,” said Mrs. Shields, “you young people go on and
- have your sleigh ride and a good time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” objected Barbara. “You shall have the first sleigh
- ride, Mama, and if you don’t go then Dorothy and I stay at home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come now, Mrs. Shields,” urged Roderick, “accept my
- invitation, for I see if you don’t I shall not be able to persuade
- the young ladies to come.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Mother,” said Dorothy, “it is just lovely of him
- to invite you, and certainly the sleigh ride will be invigorating. The
- truth is, we girls will enjoy the ride afterwards doubly if we know you
- have had the first ride of the season before we have ours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well,” said Mrs. Shields, “since you all insist,
- so let it be.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Soon after Roderick’s team was hitched to the sleigh and came
- jingling down to the front gate. Mrs. Shields was tucked snugly in under
- the robes and away they dashed with sleigh bells jingling, down the road
- towards the Platte River several miles away.
- </p>
- <p>
- When they got back Barbara and Dorothy were in readiness, and Roderick
- started away with them amid much merry laughter and promises from the
- girls to be home when they got home but not before. The snow was still
- falling in great big flakes and the cushion beneath the runners was soft
- and thick. Mile followed mile, and it was late in the afternoon when the
- sleighing party found themselves in Encampment. Roderick insisted that the
- young ladies should have supper at the Hotel Bonhomme; they would start on
- the return trip home immediately afterwards.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the sleigh drove up to the hotel, who should be looking out of the
- front door but Grant Jones? He rushed outside and assisted the sisters to
- alight.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will be back in a few minutes,” shouted Roderick, as he
- dashed away to the livery stable.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, Joe,” said Roderick while the horses were being
- unhitched, “I will want the rig again after dinner, and Grant Jones
- will also want a sleigh.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” replied the stableman. “I can fix him out
- all right and everything will be in readiness. Just telephone and I’ll
- send the rip over to the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At the dinner table Grant Jones was at his best. He had already heard
- about the Smelter Company affairs and his own election as a director, and
- waved the topic aside. It was the surprise of seeing Dorothy that filled
- him with good-humor and joviality. As the meal progressed he turned to
- Roderick and said: “Oh, yes, Roderick, I’ve just been hearing
- from Scotty Meisch that during the summer months you learned to be a great
- trout fisherman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick with a smile, “I certainly had a
- great trout-fishing experience.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where?” asked Barbara quickly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “On the South Fork of the Encampment River.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Mr. Roderick Warfield,” said Barbara quite emphatically,
- “I invited you to go trout fishing with me a good many times, and
- you told me I should be the one to teach you the gentle art. Instead of
- this you go away and learn to catch trout all alone. How many did you
- catch?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick reddened with embarrassment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Twenty-six,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, that was a pretty good catch for a novice. How big were they?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “About two pounds,” Roderick answered, absent-mindedly.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grant Jones was fairly choking with laughter. “I say, Barbara,”
- he began.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I didn’t go trout fishing alone,” interrupted Roderick
- quickly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look here, Barbara,” persisted Grant, calling to her across
- the table. But Barbara was all attention to Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who went with you?” she inquired.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Gail Holden,” he replied and his face was actually
- crimson.
- </p>
- <p>
- Barbara laid down her knife and fork and leaned back in her chair, placed
- her arms akimbo with her pretty hands on her slender waist line, and
- looked at Roderick as if she were an injured child. Finally she said:
- “Trifler!” Then everybody laughed at Roderick’s
- confusion.
- </p>
- <p>
- But he quickly recovered himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Trifler yourself!” he laughed back in rejoinder. “What
- about Ben Bragdon? What would he have said had we gone trout-fishing
- together?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were not out of the running then,” said Barbara archly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, I was, although the secret was to be kept until after the
- nomination for senator.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was Barbara’s turn now to blush. She looked around in some
- bewilderment. Grant had bestowed a vigorous kick on Roderick’s shins
- beneath the table. Only then did Roderick realize that he had broken a
- confidence. Dorothy was eyeing Grant reproachfully. It was a case of
- broken faith all round.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you sisters have no secrets from each other,” exclaimed
- Roderick, meeting the situation with a bright smile. “In just the
- same way Grant and I are chums and brothers. Besides it was a friendly
- warning. I was saved in time from the danger of shattered hopes and a
- broken heart, Miss Barbara.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So went fishing for consolation,” she replied with a smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And found it,” laughed Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who says that?” demanded Roderick, sternly. “Miss
- Holden would have every reason seriously to object.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The devil says it,” replied Grant, assuming a grave
- countenance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s a poor joke,” said Roderick, offended.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Scotty Meisch is an observant lad,” remarked the editor
- drily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The printer’s devil!” cried Dorothy, clapping her
- hands. And all four laughed heartily—Roderick most heartily of all
- despite his momentary dudgeon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then since all these whispers are going about,” remarked
- Barbara when quiet was restored, “I think it will be advisable for
- me to have a heart-to-heart talk with Gail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, please don’t,” faltered Roderick. “Really,
- you know, there’s no foundation for all this talk—all this
- nonsense.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Indeed? Then all the more need for me to drop her a friendly
- warning—guard her against shattered hopes and a broken heart and all
- that sort of thing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The tables were fairly turned, but Barbara, with quick woman’s wit,
- saw that Roderick was really pained at the thought lest Gail Holden might
- learn of this jesting with her name.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t be afraid,” she said, reassuringly. “We
- three will keep your secret, young man. We are all chums and brothers,
- aren’t we now?” And with one accord, laughing yet serious too,
- they all shook hands to seal the bond, and any breaches of confidence in
- the past were forgiven and forgotten.
- </p>
- <p>
- It had been a merry supper party, but it was now time to be starting for
- the ranch. As they rose from the table Roderick turned to Grant and said:
- “You will have to excuse me, old boy, as I am taking the ladies
- home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Taking the ladies home? Well, ain’t I goin’ along?”
- asked Grant, with a doleful look at Dorothy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No room in our sleigh,” said Roderick coldly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick,” said Grant, half sotto voce, “you are cruel.”
- But Roderick was unsympathetic and did not even smile. He turned away
- indifferently. Drawing Barbara aside, he told her in an undertone of the
- arrangements he had made with the livery stable for an extra sleigh.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you’ll be alone with me,” she said, with an amused
- smile. “Won’t you be afraid? Broken heart, etc?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not now,” he replied sturdily.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or of Mr. Bragdon? He mightn’t like it, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’m not afraid of him,” laughed Roderick. “And
- I guess he will trust me—and you,” he added gently and with a
- chivalrous little bow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Shortly the sleighs were brought round to the hotel. Grant was beside
- himself with delight when he discovered the extra rig for himself and
- Dorothy, and he laughingly shouted to Roderick: “I say, old man, you’re
- the best ever.” Soon the merrymakers were tucked snugly beneath the
- lap robes, and were speeding over the glistening expanse of snow to the
- joyous tinkle of the silver bells.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXX.—WHITLEY ADAMS BLOWS IN
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK WARFIELD’S
- election to a seat on the board of directors of the Encampment Mine and
- Smelter Company had for him a series of most unexpected consequences. He
- had had no knowledge that Uncle Allen Miller and a number of his financial
- followers in Iowa were now large stockholders in the corporation. Nor had
- he been aware that Major Buell Hampton, after his journey to New York, had
- visited the Keokuk banker. The Major had learned from his brokers in Wall
- Street that Allen Miller was on the market for this particular stock and
- had already acquired a considerable holding. Hence his flying business
- visit to Keokuk, which had resulted in the combination of forces that had
- gained the control and ousted Grady, Carlisle, and their pawns on the old
- directorate.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton had since been in continuous correspondence with the banker,
- but had never for a moment associated the names of Allen Miller and
- Roderick Warfield as having any possible connection by relationship or
- otherwise. The selection of the new board had been left entirely in Buell
- Hampton’s hands after the banker had given his assent to the
- profit-sharing scheme. That assent had not been won without considerable
- argument. The plan upset all the banker’s old theories about
- industrial enterprises. At the same time the shrewd old man of finance was
- reading the signs of the times, and had long since come to realize that a
- readjustment of the relations between capital and labor was inevitable. He
- was all the more inclined to make this experiment, in the first place
- because he was not going to be bothered with the working out of the
- practical details, and in the second place because the magnetic
- personality of Buell Hampton had at once inspired him with confidence both
- in his ability to do things and in his integrity. Therefore the shrewd old
- banker had fallen in with the Major’s plans, and given him a free
- hand when entrusting him with the powers of attorney for himself and the
- other Iowan stockholders.
- </p>
- <p>
- In point of fact there was another secret motive animating Allen Miller to
- this line of action. Unless he cooperated with Buell Hampton, the control
- would remain with W. B. Grady and his associates. And it was Grady whom
- the banker was after—Grady, the financial shark who had robbed his
- lifelong friend, General John Holden, of his underlying bonds in the
- original and now defunct smelter company, at the time when the
- amalgamation scheme had been devised to freeze out the first founders of
- the enterprise. General Holden had been the chief victim of this rapacious
- trick of financial jugglery, and Allen Miller was working secretly to undo
- the wrong. But the banker was animated not only by reasons of friendship.
- He had another incentive almost as strong. He wanted to satisfy his keen
- sense of personal pride toward Roderick Warfield. For the vital cause of
- quarrel between the old banker and the youth he loved yet had disowned was
- the unnamed girl he had thrust upon Roderick as a suitable bride because
- of her fortune. And this fortune had been proved to be illusory on the
- very day succeeding the rupture that had culminated in Roderick’s
- fine display of scorn and anger, when he had flung himself out of the
- banker’s room and started off for parts unknown to fight his own way
- in the world.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was the financial disaster which had overtaken General Holden that had
- opened Allen Miller’s eyes to the truth that he had been utterly
- wrong in his attempted methods of managing a headstrong, and as the old
- guardian had thought at the time a wayward, youth like Roderick Warfield.
- He had bitterly regretted the harsh words that had dared the offender to
- play football with the world and, as he now realized, had by their
- sarcastic bitterness driven the high-mettled young man from his boyhood
- home. He had never doubted Roderick’s prowess to make a way for
- himself by his own unaided efforts, and, despite the quarrel, had always
- felt sure of the lad’s affection. So Roderick one day would come
- back, to find the latchstring hanging outside the door of his home, the
- promised place in the bank still awaiting him, and—the pride and
- dogged determination of the old man would not yield the point—the
- rich, attractive, and in every way highly eligible bride still available.
- The only flaw in the program was Gail Holden’s fall from fortune,
- and to repair this had been the object of the banker’s continuous
- and strenuous endeavor.
- </p>
- <p>
- He had grabbed at the chance of lending money on the Mine and Smelter
- Company bonds standing in the name of W. B. Grady, which bonds he
- considered were by moral right really the property of General Holden. But
- he had lent discreetly, postponing any big advance while he held the
- documents and nosed around for information that might give some valid
- reason to dispute their ownership. And in course of time he had made one
- surprising discovery. Obtaining from General Holden all correspondence
- with Grady, he had found one sentence in which the sponsor for the new
- amalgamation scheme had guaranteed the withdrawal of all underlying bonds
- in the old smelter company before the scheme would be put through. Yet
- this condition had not been complied with, for Allen Miller had, in the
- course of tracing every old bond, discovered that five were still in
- existence and had never been surrendered. They belonged to a widow away
- back in Pennsylvania who had gone to Europe and whose whereabouts at the
- time Grady apparently had not been able to ascertain. But the persistent
- old banker had followed the trail and through his agents in France had
- purchased this particular parcel of bonds at a high figure. They were few
- in number and insignificant in face value, but to Allen Miller they were
- priceless, for these underlying bonds put W. B. Grady in his power and
- could be made the means eventually of compelling restitution to General
- Holden of the fortune that had been filched from him. Grady would have to
- make good or face the criminal charge of a fraudulent transaction.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton had been told nothing about this—it was sufficient for
- Allen Miller’s immediate purpose to have the company control wrested
- without delay out of Grady’s hands. This would render litigation
- easier, perhaps avoid it altogether—the better alternative, for the
- law’s harassing delays and heart-sickening uncertainties are
- proverbial. So when Buell Hampton had come to Keokuk in the cause of
- humanity, to fight for the toilers at the smelter and in the big mine, he
- had been agreeably surprised to find in the old banker such a ready
- listener to his philanthropic arguments. The alliance had been struck,
- with the result that Buell Hampton had been able to swing the stockholders’
- meeting exactly as he desired.
- </p>
- <p>
- Up to the very eve of that meeting the Major had kept his counsel and held
- his hand. The merest hint of the power he possessed might have given time
- for so astute a knave as Grady to devise some means more or less
- unscrupulous of repelling the attack. Therefore Buell Hampton had not
- dropped one word of what he intended to do until he had spoken to Roderick
- in his home on the night before the stockholders’ meeting. Little
- did either of them know at that time how vitally and directly Roderick was
- interested in the outcome of the Major’s fight for the downtrodden
- poor.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the eventful meetings of stockholders and directors it had been
- Buell Hampton’s first duty to send a full report of the proceedings
- to Allen Miller of Keokuk, whose power of attorney had enabled him to
- effect the coup deposing Grady and giving a share of the profits to the
- actual toilers at the furnaces and in the mine. In the course of this
- report the names of the new directors were set forth. Judge of the old
- banker’s utter amazement when his eyes fell upon the name of—Roderick
- Warfield. Surprise quickly yielded to joy and delight. The news was
- telephoned to Aunt Lois. The old banker could not leave town at the moment—an
- issue of city bonds required his close attention. But that very night an
- envoy was dispatched to Wyoming in the person of his bright and trusted
- young clerk, Whitley Adams.
- </p>
- <p>
- And the first of the series of surprises for Roderick Warfield, one
- afternoon a few days after the sleigh ride, was the sight of his old
- college chum tumbling out of a bob-sled which, in default of coaching
- facilities, had brought him over from the railroad at Rawlins. Whitley had
- stopped the sled in the main street along which, in the crisp sunshine
- that had followed the heavy snowfall, Roderick happened to be strolling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello, old scout,” cried the new arrival with all the ease of
- a veteran globe-trotter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where in thunder did you drop from!” exclaimed Roderick,
- clutching at his hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “From Iowa’s sun-kissed cornfields to Wyoming’s
- snow-capped hills,” laughed Whitley, humming the tune of the hymn he
- was parodying.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What has brought you here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lots of things. A letter for you, to begin with.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “From whom?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your Uncle Allen Miller.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But he doesn’t know I’m here, does he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The whole world knows you’re here, dear boy,” replied
- Whitley, pulling the latest issue of the <i>Encampment Herald</i> out of
- his pocket. “Why, you’ve become famous—a director of the
- great smelting corporation.” And he flourished the journal aloft.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who sent you that paper?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major Buell Hampton, of course. At least he sent it to your uncle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get out. You’re kidding, Whitley.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No kidding about me, old man. Those irresponsible days are now
- over.” Whitley drew himself up with great dignity. “If Buell
- Hampton hasn’t told you that he came to Keokuk and made the
- acquaintance of Banker Allen Miller, well, that’s his affair, not
- mine. Where shall we have dinner? I’m as hungry as a grizzly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait a moment, Whitley. Do you mean to tell me Uncle Allen knows
- the Major?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure. They’ve been as thick as thieves—or rather I
- should say as close as twins—Oh, that reminds me. How are dear
- Barbara and Dorothy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shut up—stop your nonsense. What were you going to say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, just this, that ever since the Major paid us a visit at Keokuk,
- letters have been passing nearly every week between him and the banker. I’ve
- seen all the correspondence.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have known nothing about this,” said Roderick, in great
- perplexity.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, doubtless you are not in the same confidential position as I
- occupy,” replied Whitley airily. “But of course now that you
- are a director of the company you’ll come to know—or at least
- should know; that’s part of your duties—that Allen Miller is a
- big stockholder.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There flashed to Roderick’s mind Buell Hampton’s vague
- reference, on the night preceding the stockholders’ meeting, to some
- new friend, a professional man of finance, with whom he held joint control
- of the company’s stock.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A true friend of humanity,” he murmured, recalling the Major’s
- words. “Great Scott, that’s about the last identification tag
- I would have expected for Uncle Allen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, old chap,” interposed Whitley, “don’t
- mumble in conundrums. You take it from me that Buell Hampton and your
- uncle are financial pals—associates might be the more dignified
- word. That’s no doubt why the Major nominated you for the board of
- directors.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick paled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By God, if that’s the case, I’ll resign tomorrow. I’ve
- been standing on my own feet here. I owe nothing to Uncle Allen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There now, put all that touchy pride in your pocket, Roderick. By
- jingo, you’re worse than Banker Miller himself. But I took the old
- gentleman down a few pegs the afternoon he learned that you were in
- Wyoming,” Whitley rambled on, laughing. “He declared that I
- must have known your hiding place all the time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you answered?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Owned up at once, of course. Told him that others besides himself
- could be trusted with a confidence—that neither he nor anybody else
- could have bulldosed me into betraying a client. A client—that’s
- what I called you, old man. Oh, you can’t give me business points
- nowadays. What do you think he said in reply?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ordered you out of the room, I suppose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not on your life! Commended my sagacity, my trustworthiness; told
- me again that I was a born banker, one after his own heart. And to show
- that he meant what he said, he raised my salary five dollars a week, and
- handed me over fifty dollars extra spending money for this trip. What do
- you think of that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can’t express a thought—I’m too much surprised
- over the whole train of events.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I suppose he knew I’d have to buy a few boxes of candy
- for the beautiful Wyoming girls,” Whitley went on. “I had told
- him after my first trip here that they were regular stunners—that
- they had been buzzing about me like flies around a pot of honey. Oh, he
- laughed all right. I know how to manage the old fellow—was half
- afraid he’d be coming along himself instead of sending me this time.
- But he bade me tell you he couldn’t possibly get away from Keokuk
- just now. Which reminds me—here’s your letter, old man; and
- one, too, from Aunt Lois. She saw me off at the train, and gave me a kiss
- to pass on to you.” Whitley, a bunch of letters in his hand, made a
- movement as if to bestow upon Roderick the osculatory salute with which
- he had been entrusted. But Roderick, smiling in spite of himself, pushed
- him back.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You irrepressible donkey: Hand over my letters.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, the letters.” Whitley began to sort the bunch of
- correspondence. “This is for Buell Hampton. And this is for Ben
- Bragdon. I suppose he’s in town?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. But he’s pretty busy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Won’t be too busy to attend to me, I reckon. Then W. B. Grady”—he
- was fingering a neatly folded, legal looking document “I hope that
- Grady hasn’t cleared out from Encampment yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not that I’ve heard. In fact I saw him on the street this
- morning. You seem to have business with everyone in town.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just about hits it, old man. And General John Holden. Ah, yes, that
- reminds me,” Whitley suspended his sorting of the letters, and
- looked up. “How’s the college widow, old man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick reddened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s all off,” he answered stiffly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guessed that’s just what would happen. Best so, by a long
- chalk, So Stella Rain is free again. Guess I’ll stop off on my way
- home, and take a run to Galesburg. Nice girl, you know, Stella. No saying
- but I might make an impression now she is”—
- </p>
- <p>
- “Stella Rain is married,” interrupted Roderick, speaking
- sharply and shortly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don’t say? Too bad.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Happily married, I tell you—to some rich fellow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, then, she threw you over, did she? Ho, ho, ho! But that’s
- all right, old fellow. Saves all complications. And Gail, how’s
- Gail? Oh, she’s a pipit pin.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By gad, Whitley, you shut up. Come and have your dinner. But you
- haven’t given me my letters yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ah, I forgot Well this one is for General Holden. I’ve got to
- see him at once.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What about?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Confidential business, my friend. Ask no questions for I want to be
- spared the pain of refusing you the slightest information. Great guns,
- Rod, we financial men, you know, hold more secrets than a father
- confessor. We’ve got to keep our mouths shut all the time, even to
- our best friends. This is my letter of credit to your local bank—no
- limit, mind you, on my sight drafts on Keokuk. Ah, yes, here are your
- letters—one from Aunt Lois, the other from your old guardian. Hope
- he has put a fat check inside.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don’t need his checks—if there’s any check
- here, you can take it back.” And Roderick ripped open the envelope.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there was no offending slip of colored paper enclosed, and he thrust
- both the letters unread into his pocket.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now we’ll dine,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A moment, please.” And Whitley turned to the driver of the
- bob-sled waiting in the middle of the road.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go and get your dinner, my man,” he called out. “Then
- hitch fresh horses in that sled, and come to my hotel, the Bonhomme; that’s
- the best place in town, if I remember right, Roderick,” he said with
- a glance at his friend. Then he continued to the driver: “Charge
- everything to me, and don’t be longer than a couple of hours. Now
- come along, Roderick. You dine with me—oh, I have an ample expense
- fund. But I’m sorry I’ll have to leave you immediately after
- dinner.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was overwhelmed by all this grandiloquence. He hardly dared to
- take his old chum’s arm as they walked along the street. But at last
- he stopped, burst out laughing, and slapped the man of affairs squarely
- between the shoulders.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Whitley, old chap, you’re a wonder. You play the part to
- perfection.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Play the part?” protested Whitley, with a fine assumption of
- dignity. “I <i>am</i> the part—the real thing. I’m your
- rich old uncle’s right hand man, and don’t you forget it.
- Would a little ready cash now be a convenience?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then Whitley’s arm went round his comrade’s neck, and with a
- simultaneous whoop of laughter they passed into the hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- But during the next twenty-four hours Roderick saw very little of his
- college chum. And during the same period the said college chum
- accomplished some very remarkable things. Immediately after dinner the
- bob-sled sped out to Conchshell ranch, and General Holden signed the legal
- papers that attached, as a measure of precaution, the bonds standing in
- the name of W. B. Grady and now in the custody of the bank at Keokuk as
- security for a loan. And for half the night Attorney Ben Bragdon and
- Whitley Adams were closeted with W. B. Grady in a private parlor of the
- hotel, and the fight was fought out for legal possession of the
- fraudulently acquired bonds—a fight that put the issue squarely up
- to Grady whether he would accept Banker Allen Miller’s terms of
- surrender or face a criminal charge. It was in the grey of the breaking
- dawn that the vanquished Grady crept out of the hotel, wiping the beads of
- cold sweat from his brow, while Whitley was quietly folding up the
- properly signed transfers that gave back to General Holden bonds of equal
- value to those of which he had been robbed by false pretences and promises
- never fulfilled.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the morning Whitley was again at the Conchshell ranch, and breakfasted
- with the General and his daughter. It was the latter who bound him to
- secrecy—to the solemn promise that neither he nor Mr. Bragdon should
- divulge to anyone the story of this restored family fortune. Gail declared
- that she was going to make good with her dairy cattle venture, that
- neither she nor her father wanted to return to the old life of fashion and
- society at Quincy, that they had no wish to appear as rich folks. Whitley
- listened to all the arguments, understood, and promised. And that the
- transfer of the bonds should not be connected with General Holden’s
- name it was agreed that for the present they should pass to Banker Allen
- Miller as family trustee.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley’s chest had expanded fully two inches when he drove away,
- the trusted emissary for the carrying into effect of these decrees. He had
- had a few minutes alone with Gail and, introducing the name of Roderick
- Warfield in a casual way, had assured her that he, like everyone else,
- would know nothing about these strictly family affairs. She had blushed a
- little, reiterated her thanks, and at parting had, he could have sworn,
- given him an extra friendly pressure of her dainty little fingers.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley drove straight to Ben Bragdon’s office, and took the
- precaution of adding to the professional seal of secrecy a direct
- expression from the General of his wishes in the matter.
- </p>
- <p>
- During the afternoon the young banker from Keokuk personally delivered the
- letter from Allen Miller addressed to Major Buell Hampton. Whitley had
- insisted upon Roderick accompanying him. The relationship between Roderick
- and Banker Miller was now revealed. The Major received the news without
- much surprise.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In the loom of life,” he said, with great solemnity, “the
- shuttle of destiny weaves the threads of individual lives into a pattern
- which is only disclosed as time goes on. Thus are the destinies of men
- interwoven without their knowing either the how or the why. Roderick, my
- dear fellow, from this day on we are simply more closely bound to each
- other than ever.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The evening was spent at the Shields ranch. Whitley congratulated Barbara
- on her engagement to Ben Bragdon, and then took Dorothy’s breath
- away by congratulating her and the absent Grant Jones as well.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dorothy blushed furiously, and disowned the soft impeachment; to which
- Whitley replied that unless her sweetheart got busy promptly and toed the
- line, he himself was coming back to Encampment to cut out so tardy a
- wooer. “Tell Grant Jones from me,” he said, “that it’s
- taking chances to leave the tempting peach upon the tree.” She
- slapped his hand playfully for his audacity, and Roderick hurried the
- flippant financier out of the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- At midnight, in the bright moonlight, Whitley departed for Rawlins to
- catch his train. Nothing could persuade him to prolong his visit—Banker
- Miller would be hopping around like a cat on hot bricks, the bank going to
- wreck and ruin if he did not hurry back, the girls of Keokuk growing quite
- jealous of the beauties of Wyoming.
- </p>
- <p>
- Like a whiff of sweet perfume the joyous youth was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXI.—RODERICK’S DISCOVERY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">N</span>OTWITHSTANDING
- their change in fortunes,
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick and Grant still made the editor’s shack their home—the
- old place endeared to them by many fond associations. A few days after
- Whitley Adams’ visit they were seated at the breakfast table, and
- Grant had proposed that they should go deer hunting.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excellent weather,” he explained, “as the snow is just
- deep enough up in the mountains to drive the deer down. Finest sport in
- the world. Nothing like going after big game.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You almost persuade me,” said Roderick, setting down his
- coffee and looking at Grant with increased interest. “All the same I
- hate to leave the smelter plant even for a day or two. You see I’m
- just beginning to get a hang of the business, and I’ve quite made up
- my mind to master it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, let it rip. You’re not tied down to the works, are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not—you don’t imagine I think myself
- qualified as yet to be tied down. ‘But what about guns?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, well,” said Grant, “I have a.32 Winchester, one
- that has got a record too, by gunnies, as Jim Rankin would say. Its record
- is great.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How big a record?” inquired Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Seven deer,” answered Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All your own killing?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, no. To be downright truthful since you force me to
- particularize, I’ll admit I never killed but one deer with it. But
- that does not interfere with the gun’s record.” And then he
- continued: “I have no doubt Major Hampton will be delighted to loan
- you his gun. He has a .30 calibre Government Springfield and in his hands
- it has accounted for many a buck.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After breakfast they called on Major Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good morning, gentlemen,” said the Major as he opened the
- door and bade them welcome.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are going deer hunting,” said Grant, quite
- enthusiastically. “I have a gun, but
- this-would-be-slayer-of-big-game, Roderick, is gunless and when we return
- he may be deerless. Was just wondering, Major, if you would care to loan
- your famous deer killer to him. Guess its long record,” he added,
- “would fill a book.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, certainly,” replied the Major in an absent-minded way;
- and then presently he went on: “Do not interpret my hesitation as
- unwillingness to accommodate you. It is well you came just when you did,
- for within half an hour I myself will be starting for the mountains and my
- mind was pre-occupied with my own little preparations.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can’t you come with us, Major?” asked Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But I won’t be depriving you of your gun?” enquired
- Roderick simultaneously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I answer ‘no’ to both questions,” was the smiling
- response. “I am going out on one of my lonesome excursions—to
- commune with Nature face to face for a brief spell. And when I go I need
- no rifle—even the very deer there are my trustful friends.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then turning he took down his rifle from its accustomed place and brought
- it over to Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This old Springfield has served me well,” he said, smiling in
- his own magnificent way. “It was my friend in dark days of need. In
- my lifetime, gentlemen, I have never spilled the blood of any living thing
- wantonly, and I do not believe man is justified in taking the life of even
- a worm on the pathway, a rabbit in the hills, cattle or sheep in the
- fields, or a deer in the wilds unless it is for food and to sustain life.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then suddenly looking at Grant the Major said: “I understand W. R.
- Grady is up in the hills?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, so I have heard.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is he doing? Looking for a mine?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Possibly. They say he is at the Thomas Boarding House most of the
- time up at Battle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess,” interrupted Roderick, “that he is not very
- happy since the new order of things—your new plan, Major—put
- him out of business.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps he is getting in touch again with his old heeler, Bud
- Bledsoe,” suggested Grant. “That outlaw gang has been lying
- low for quite a while, but I’m expecting to hear about some new bit
- of deviltry any day. Am in need of a corking good newspaper story.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, since you are bent on hunting big game,” laughed the
- Major, “these miscreants might provide you with all the exciting
- sport you are wanting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, a brace of good fat bucks will be good enough for us. Where’s
- the likeliest place to start from, Major? You’re the local authority
- on these matters.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know where Spirit River Falls are?” asked Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ve heard of them but have never been there,” replied
- Grant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think that I’ve seen them from above,” observed
- Roderick, “but I don’t know the way to them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you know where Gid Sutton’s half-way house is located?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly,” replied Roderick. “I was there less than a
- month ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Spirit River Falls are located about six or seven miles south
- and east of the half-way house. I advise that one of you go up the South
- Fork of the Encampment River and the other keep to the right and go over
- the hills past Conchshell ranch into a park plateau to the south; then
- have your meeting place this evening in an old log structure that you will
- find about three-fourths of a mile directly through the timber southeast
- from the falls. If you are wise, you will load up two or three burros,
- send them with a trusty, and have him make camp for you in this old
- deserted hut. You will find a cup of coffee, a rasher of bacon and a few
- sandwiches very appetizing by the time you have tramped all day in your
- deer-hunting quest And the country all around is full of deer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The young men thanked him warmly for his advice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In point of fact,” continued Buell Hampton, “I’ll
- be up in the same region myself. But I’m travelling light and will
- have the start of you. Moreover, we can very easily lose each other in
- that rugged country of rocks and timber. But don’t mistake me for a
- buck, Roderick, if you catch sight of my old sombrero among the brushwood;”
- saying which he reached for the broad-brimmed slouch hat hanging against
- the wall.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’ll take mighty good care,” replied Roderick. “But
- I hope we’ll run up against you, Major, all the same.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, you won’t find me,” answered Buell Hampton, with a
- quiet smile. “I’ll be hidden from all the world. Follow the
- deer, young men, and the best of luck to you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The two comrades started away in high feather, anticipating great results
- from the tip given them by the veteran hunter. Going straight to the
- livery bam, they rigged out three burros, and sent with them one of the
- stablemen who, besides being a fairly good cook, happened to be familiar
- with the trail to Spirit River Falls, and also knew the location of the
- “hunter’s hut” as they found the old log structure
- indicated by Buell Hampton was locally named.
- </p>
- <p>
- These arrangements concluded, Roderick and Grant started for the hills.
- Some half a mile from Encampment they separated—Jones going along
- the east bank of the South Fork of the Encampment River and Roderick
- following the North Fork until he came to Conchshell canyon. The day was
- an ideal one for a deer hunt. There was not a breath of wind. The sky was
- overcast in a threatening manner as if it were full of snow that was
- liable to flutter down at the slightest provocation.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick reached the plateau that constituted the Conchshell ranch he
- concluded to bear to the left and as he said to himself “Keep away
- from temptation.” He was out hunting wild deer that day and he must
- not permit himself to make calls on a sweet-throated songster like Gail.
- On through the open fields and over the fences and into a thick growth of
- pines and firs, where he plodded his way through snow that crunched and
- cried loudly under his feet Indeed the stillness of everything excepting
- his own walking began to grate on his nerves and he said to himself that
- surely a whitetailed deer with ordinary alertness could hear him walking
- even if it were half a mile away.
- </p>
- <p>
- As he trudged along mile after mile he was very watchful for game or
- tracks, but nothing stirred, no trace of deer was discernible in any
- direction. He was following the rim of a hill surmounting some boxlike
- canyons that led away abruptly to the left, while a smooth field or park
- reached far to the right where the hills were well covered with timber.
- Here and there an opening of several acres in extent occurred without bush
- or shrub.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was perhaps one o’clock in the afternoon and he was becoming a
- bit leg-weary. Brushing the snow away from a huge boulder he seated
- himself for a short rest. Scarcely had he done so than he noticed that
- occasional flakes of snow were falling. “More snow,” he
- muttered to himself, “and I am a good ways from a cup of coffee if I
- am any judge.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After he was rested he got up and again moved on. Just then, as he looked
- down into a box canyon, he saw three deer—a doe and two half-grown
- fawns. Quickly bringing his gun to his shoulder his first impulse was to
- fire. But he realized that it would be foolish for the animals were at
- least five hundred yards away and far below the elevation where he was
- standing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” he said to himself, “I will leave the rim of this
- mountain and get down into the canyon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He hastily retreated, and took a circuitous route intending to head off
- the deer. In due time he approached the brow of the precipitous bluff and
- after walking back and forth finally found a place where he believed he
- could work his way down into the canyon. It was a dangerous undertaking—far
- more so than Roderick knew—and might have proved his undoing.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was perhaps half way down the side of the cliff, working his way back
- and forth, when suddenly some loose stones slipped from under his feet and
- away he went, sliding in a sitting position down the side of the mountain.
- He had sufficient presence of mind to hold his gun well away from him to
- prevent any possible accident from an accidental discharge. The cushioning
- of the snow under him somewhat slowed his descent, yet he could not stop.
- Down and down he went, meeting with no obstruction that might have given
- him a momentary foothold. Presently he saw, to his great relief of mind,
- that he was headed for a small fir tree that had rooted itself on a ledge
- near the bottom of the canyon. A moment later his feet came thump against
- its branches, and while the jar and shock of suddenly arrested motion were
- very considerable yet they were not enough to be attended with any serious
- consequences.
- </p>
- <p>
- Somewhat dazed, he remained seated for a few moments. But soon he found
- his footing, and pulling himself together, brushed away the snow from his
- apparel and made sure that his gun was all right. After a glance around he
- picked his way down some distance farther into the canyon, and then
- turning to the right along a little ledge started in the direction where
- he expected to sight the deer higher up the hill.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly he stopped. There were the deer tracks right before him going
- down the gorge.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By George,” he muttered aloud, “I did not get far
- enough down. However, I will follow the tracks.” And forthwith he
- started on the trail, cautiously but highly expectant.
- </p>
- <p>
- The direction was westerly, but he had not gone far until the canyon made
- an elbow turn to the south and then a little farther on to the east.
- “I wonder,” said Roderick to himself, “what sort of a
- maze I am getting into. This canyon is more crooked than an old-fashioned
- worm fence or a Wyoming political boss.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The box canyon continued to grow deeper and the rocky cliffs higher,
- zig-zagging first one way and then another until Roderick gave up all
- pretense of even guessing at the direction he was travelling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Strange I have never heard of this narrow box-canyon before,”
- he thought.
- </p>
- <p>
- After walking briskly along for about an hour, keeping the tracks of the
- retreating deer in view, he suddenly came to an opening. A little valley
- was spread out before him, and to his amazement there were at least a
- hundred deer herded together in the park-like enclosure.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick rubbed his eyes and looked up at the high and abrupt precipices
- that surrounded this open valley on every side. It seemed to him that the
- walls rose sheer and almost perpendicular several hundred feet to the
- rocky rim above. He followed on down, filled with wonderment, and
- presently was further astonished by finding several great bubbling
- springs. Each basin was fully a hundred feet across, and the agitated
- waters evidently defied freezing, for they fairly boiled in their
- activity, overflowing and coming together to form quite a big tumbling
- mountain stream.
- </p>
- <p>
- Stealthily following on and keeping the great herd in view he mentally
- speculated on the surprise he would give Grant Jones when he came to
- display the proofs of his prowess as a hunter of the hills. Surely with
- his belt full of cartridges and the large number of deer in sight,
- although as yet too far away to risk a shot, he could add several antlered
- heads to Grant’s collection. The stream grew larger. There were a
- number of other springs feeding their surplus waters into brooks which
- eventually all joined the main stream, and he mentally resolved that the
- next time Gail and he went trout-fishing they would visit this identical
- spot. He laughed aloud and asked the question: “Will she be mine so
- that we may come together for a whole week into this beautiful dell?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The farther he advanced the less snow he found in the strange, rock-fenced
- valley. The grasses had grown luxuriantly in the summer season, and the
- deer were browsing in seeming indifference to his presence yet moving on
- away from him all the time. He began wondering if all this were a mirage
- or a reality. He looked a second time at the slowly receding herd and
- again he laughed aloud. “Such foolishness,” he exclaimed.
- “It is an absolute reality, and right here I will make my name and
- fame as a hunter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He stopped suddenly, for just across the stream, standing among the
- boulders and pebbles of an old channel, were four deer, not two hundred
- feet away. They were looking at him in mild-eyed wonder, one of them a
- noble, splendidly antlered buck. Lifting the Major’s Springfield to
- his shoulder Roderick sighted along the barrel and fired. Three of the
- deer ran away. But the buck jumped high into the air, attempted to climb
- the opposite bank, failed and fell backward.
- </p>
- <p>
- Hurriedly crossing over the stream and slipping in his excitement off the
- stones into knee-deep water, he came quickly up to the wounded deer.
- Instantly the animal bounded to his feet, but fell again. Roderick fired a
- second shot which reached a vital spot. The magnificent denizen of the
- hills had been vanquished in the uneven contest with man’s superior
- knowledge and deadly skill.
- </p>
- <p>
- The novice in huntsman’s craft had received all sorts of book
- instructions and verbal explanations from Grant Jones. So he at once drew
- his hunting knife, thrust it into the jugular vein of the dying deer, and
- bled him copiously. Only the hunter knows the exultant feelings of mingled
- joy and excitement that possessed Roderick at that moment. His first deer!
- Resting the gun against a small cottonwood tree that grew on a raised bank
- between the old channel and the flowing waters, he walked to the stream,
- washed the crimson from his knife, and returned the weapon to its sheath.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then he looked around to get his bearings. He knew he had come with the
- waters from what seemed to be a westerly direction. The stream was
- evidently flowing toward the east. As he walked along in the old channel
- over the sandbar he kicked the rocks and pebbles indifferently, and then
- stopped suddenly, gasped and looked about him.
- </p>
- <p>
- On every side the mountains rose precipitately fully six or seven hundred
- feet. There was no visible outlet for the stream.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it possible,” he exclaimed with bated breath, “that
- I am in the lost canyon? And this,” he said, stooping down and
- picking up a nugget of almost pure gold—“is this the sandbar
- on which my father and Uncle Allen Miller found their treasure yeans and
- years ago? Marvelous! Marvelous! Marvelous!”
- </p>
- <p>
- For the moment the slain deer was forgotten. His achievement as a hunter
- of big game no longer thrilled him. He was overwhelmed by a mightier surge
- of emotion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” he said finally in a low voice of conviction, “this
- at last is the lost find!”
- </p>
- <p>
- And he sank down on the gold-strewn pebbly sandbar, limp and helpless,
- completely overcome.
- </p>
- <p>
- A minute later he had recovered his composure. He stood erect He gazed
- down the valley. The startled herd of deer had vanished into the brushwood
- and low timber.
- </p>
- <p>
- But there, slowly ascending along the river bed, was the figure of Buell
- Hampton. Roderick stood stockstill, lost in amazement, waiting.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXII.—STAKING THE CLAIMS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">S</span>O IT is you who
- have found my Hidden Valley,” said Buell Hampton as he drew near.
- His voice had a regretful ring, but as he grasped Roderick’s hand he
- added cordially: “I thank God it is you, Roderick. When I heard the
- rifle shots I was afraid it might be Bud Bledsoe or some of his gang.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your hidden valley, Major?” murmured Roderick,
- interrogatively and with emphasis on the first word.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, my son—the valley from which I took the carload of rich
- ore we sold in Denver.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Great guns, Major. I too have discovered gold—placer gold.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “At your feet. Look.” And Roderick stooped and picked up a
- fine smooth-worn nugget as big as a pigeon’s egg. “Look, look,
- look,” continued Roderick. “It is all around us on this
- sandbar.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I did not happen on this spot,” said Buell Hampton. “The
- fact is I hardly explored the valley at all. I had all the gold I wanted
- or could ever want in my own find.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then where is that find?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lower down the stream—a dyke of porphyry and white quartz.
- But you already know the kind of ore Jim Rankin, Tom Sun, and Boney
- Earnest helped me to get out of the valley. It is quite different from
- your gold.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major stooped, and collected a handful of good-sized nuggets.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did you come to find this place, Roderick?” he asked,
- gazing up at the sheer cliffs around them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have been searching for it,” he replied, “since ever
- I came to Wyoming. Oh, Major, it is a strange story. I hardly know where
- to begin. But wait. Sit down on that boulder. I have my father’s
- letter with me. You can read it and will then understand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- From an inner pocket Roderick produced the map and letter which had never
- left his possession, night or day, since his Uncle Allen had handed him
- the sealed packet in the bank manager’s room at Keokuk. Without a
- word Buell Hampton took the seat indicated, and after a preliminary glance
- at the map proceeded to read the long epistle left by the old miner, John
- Warfield, as a dying legacy to his son. Roderick sitting on his heels
- watched in silence while the other read.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your father was a sensible man,” remarked Buell Hampton, as
- at last he refolded the paper. “I like the spirit in which he wrote—the
- fervent expression of his hope that this wealth will prove a blessing to
- you instead of a disquieting evil. Yes, you have undoubtedly found your
- father’s lost mine. But, Roderick, why did you not tell me of this
- before? I would have gladly helped you to a quicker discovery. This map
- here I would have recognized at a glance as the map of my happy retreat,
- my Hidden Valley.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Major, I may seem to have been a bit reticent—or
- independent, may I call it? But you will remember that it was early in our
- intimacy when you showed me and the others those rich ore specimens in
- your home. And you yourself were reticent—bound us to secrecy, yet
- gave us no-single clue as to the whereabouts of your wonderful discovery.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Because I wanted to protect this place from intrusion—I
- indulged in the dream that the treasure of the valley might be made to
- fall only into worthy hands, which dream could never be realized unless I
- guarded my secret from one and all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your sentiment I quite understand. But don’t you see, Major,
- it was this very reticence on your part that made me reticent—that
- virtually sealed my lips? I have often thought of showing you my father’s
- letter, of telling the full reasons that brought me to Wyoming. But to
- have done so after you had shown us that ore would have been simply to
- press you for further information—to have asked you to divulge the
- location of your mine which you had resolved to keep secret so that I
- might possibly be assisted in the quest for my father’s lost claim.
- I couldn’t do that I am sure you will now understand my feelings.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Fine feelings, Roderick,” exclaimed the Major, extending his
- hand. “Feelings after my own heart I understand them, and can only
- compliment you on your sturdy independence. But how did you get here?”
- And again he glanced up the precipitous mountains.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I think I might almost say I tumbled down into the canyon,”
- laughed Roderick. “I slipped and tobogganed down a steep slope. Then
- I followed the tracks of four deer I was after, and found myself here. By
- the way, have you looked at my splendid buck?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton rose, and as if by force of habit drew his hunting knife and
- proceeded to dress and gambrel the deer. Roderick watched the skilled
- hands at work. Before many minutes the carcass was hanging on the peg of a
- broken limb.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly, a fine buck,” remarked the Major, stepping back
- admiringly. “Your first, I believe?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My very first.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not often that a man kills his first deer and discovers a gold mine
- on the same day, eh?” laughed Buell Hampton. “But where is
- Grant Jones?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven’t seen him since morning. We followed your
- directions, and took opposite sides of the river.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then he will meet you tonight at the old log hut?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s our arrangement. But how are we to get out of this
- box-canyon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can show you an easier way out than the toboggan slide by which
- you came in,” replied the Major, smiling. “At the same time I
- think I should prefer to follow your tracks, so that in the future I may
- know this second means of access. I am afraid the secret of this little
- sequestered valley can be no longer kept from the world. I presume you are
- going to stake out a claim and record it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You bet,” laughed Roderick. “There’s no sentiment
- about sequestered valleys or happy retreats in my make-up. Great Scott,
- there’s a cool million dollars of gold lying around right here. I’m
- going to take no chances of the next man finding the spot. Isn’t
- that common sense, Major?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No doubt,” replied Buell Hampton, “it is common sense
- in your case. And you are obviously following your father’s bidding
- in making the fullest and the best use of the wealth he tried so long in
- vain to rediscover. Are you familiar with the regulations as to staking
- out a claim?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes, I’ve posted myself on all that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, choose your ground, and I’ll whittle your stakes.”
- He rose and again unsheathed his hunting knife.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major,” cried Roderick, “along this old channel there’s
- at least three men’s ground. We’ll stake for you and for me
- and for Grant Jones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But Grant Jones must have been on his claim before he can file on
- it. That’s the law.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We’ll bring him down tomorrow morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then, go ahead,” said the Major. “I think it is right
- and proper to secure all the ground we can. I believe it will be all for
- the best that it should be in our hands.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Within an hour stakes had been placed at the corners of the three placer
- claims, and the proper location notices, written on leaves torn from Buell
- Hampton’s note book, affixed to a stake in the centre of each claim.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think that this complies with all legal requirements,”
- remarked the Major, as they surveyed their workmanship. “Now,
- Roderick, tit for tat. You will come down the valley with me, and we shall
- secure, as lode claims, the porphyry dyke from which I have cut out merely
- the rich outcrop.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Another hour’s labor saw the second task completed.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were back at Roderick’s sandbar, and had filled their pockets
- with nuggets.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now for the ascent,” said Buell Hampton. “Tomorrow
- morning we shall return, and breakfast here on your venison. Hurry up now;
- the evening shadows are already falling.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The trail left by Roderick and the four deer through the canyon and along
- the <i>zigzag</i> gash in the mountains above the bubbling springs was
- clearly traceable in the snow. When the narrow ledge by which Roderick had
- descended into the gorge was reached the Major took the precaution of
- blazing an occasional tree trunk for future direction. Progress was easy
- until they reached the abrupt declivity down which the hunter had slipped.
- A little farther along the deer appeared to have descended the steep
- incline by a series of leaps. In the gathering dusk it was impossible to
- proceed farther; steps would have to be cut or a careful search made for
- some way around.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We must go back,” said Buell Hampton. “Now I will show
- you my means of access to the canyon—one of the most wonderful rock
- galleries in the world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Retracing their footsteps they hastened along at the best speed possible,
- and soon reached the tunnel into which the river disappeared. Producing
- his electric torch, the Major prepared to lead the way. He lingered for
- just a moment to gaze back into the canyon which was now enveloped in the
- violet haze of eventide.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it not lovely?” he murmured. “Alas, that such a
- place of perfect peace and beauty should come to be deserted and
- despoiled!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was fingering the slugs of gold in his pocket. He followed the
- direction of the Major’s eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, it is all very beautiful,” he replied. “But
- scenery is scenery, Major, and gold is gold.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The little torch flashed like an evening star as they disappeared into the
- grotto.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton and Roderick had gazed up the canyon.
- </p>
- <p>
- But they had failed to observe two human forms crouched among the
- brushwood not fifty yards away—the forms of Bud Bledsoe and Grady,
- who had that morning tracked the Major from his home to the falls, under
- the cataract, through the rock gallery, right into the hidden canyon,
- intent on discovering the secret whence the carload of rich ore had come,
- bent on revenge for Grady’s undoing with the smelting company when
- the proper moment should arrive.
- </p>
- <p>
- That night Buell Hampton, Roderick Warfield, and Grant Jones supped
- frugally at the hunter’s hut on ham sandwiches and coffee. Down in
- Hidden Valley on the gold-strewn sandbar W. B. Grady and his henchman
- feasted royally on venison steaks cut from the fat buck Roderick’s
- gun had provided. They had already torn down the location notices and
- substituted their own. And far into the night by the light of their camp
- fire the claim-jumpers searched for the nuggets among the pebbles and
- gathered them into a little heap, stopping only from their frenzied quest
- to take an occasional gulp of whiskey from the big flask without which Bud
- Bledsoe never stirred. When daylight broke, exhausted, half-drunk, both
- were fast asleep beside the pile of stolen gold.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXIII—THE SNOW SLIDE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>URING the night a
- few flakes of snow had fallen—just the flurry of a storm that had
- come and tired and paused to rest awhile. The morning broke grey and
- sombre and intensely still; the mantle of white that covered the ground
- and clung to bushes and tree branches seemed to muffle every sound; the
- atmosphere was clear, but filled with brooding expectancy.
- </p>
- <p>
- The three friends at the hunter’s hut were early astir. Roderick,
- despite the fact that fortune had at last smiled and crowned with success
- the prolonged quest for his father’s lost mine, was strangely
- oppressed. Buell Hampton, too, was grave and inclined to silence. But
- Grant Jones was gay and happy, singing blithely during the preparations
- for breakfast.
- </p>
- <p>
- On the previous night he had received the story of the find with exultant
- delight. With such a rich mining claim all the ambitions of his life were
- about to be realized. He would buy out his financial partners in the <i>Dillon
- Doublejack</i> and publish it as a daily newspaper—hang the expense,
- the country would grow and with it the circulation, and he would be in
- possession of the field against all-comers. Then again he would acquire
- the <i>Encampment Herald</i> although keeping on the brilliant Earle
- Clemens as editor; also start another paper at Rawlins, and in a little
- time run a whole string of journals, like some of the big newspaper men
- whose names were known throughout the nation. Listening to these glowing
- plans as they drank their morning coffee around the campfire, Roderick and
- the Major could not but admire the boyish gaiety of this sanguine spirit.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m going to propose to Dorothy tomorrow,” exclaimed
- Grant by way of grand finale to his program of great expectations, “and
- the Reverend Stephen Grannon will marry us before the week is out We’ll
- spend our honeymoon in Chicago so that I can buy some new printing presses
- and things. Then we’ll be back in time to bring out a grand
- mid-winter number that will make all Wyoming sit up and take notice. By
- gad, boys, it’s great to be a newspaper editor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Better to be a newspaper proprietor,” laughed Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Or both combined,” suggested the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There you’ve hit it,” cried Grant. “And that’s
- just the luck that has come my way at last—thanks to you, Roderick,
- old scout, and to you, Major, as well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, no,” protested Buell Hampton. “With your happy
- disposition and great capacity for work, success was bound to be yours, my
- dear fellow. The manner of its coming is a mere detail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s the way a good friend cloaks good deeds,”
- replied Grant. “However, we’ll let it go at that. Pass the
- frying pan please; this bacon’s just fine.” Plans for the day
- were carefully discussed. The man in charge of the burros had not been
- taken into their confidence; as a member of the expedition he would be
- properly looked after later on, but meanwhile strict secrecy was the only
- wise policy until the location papers had been properly filed at the
- county seat, Rawlins. This filing would undoubtedly be the signal for a
- rush of all the miners and prospectors within a hundred miles of the
- little treasure valley among the hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, there will be a regular stampede,” remarked the Major—“provided
- the snow holds off,” he added with a glance at the grey canopy of
- cloud overhead.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think we are in for another storm,” said Grant, gazing
- around. “If so, the whole country will be sealed up until the
- spring.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which is not the worst thing that might happen,” commented
- Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would certainly give us ample time to make all our arrangements for
- the future,” concurred Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was agreed that they would take with them that morning the sacks in
- which the provisions had been brought up, and bring back as much gold as
- they could carry. For a moment Grant and Roderick discussed the
- advisability of leaving their guns behind. But there were outlaws among
- the mountains, and it was deemed prudent to carry the weapons.
- </p>
- <p>
- All preparations were now completed, and a start was made, the stableman
- being left in charge of the camp with instructions to have a good fire of
- embers ready for the brisket of venison they would return with about the
- noontide hour.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton led the way at a swinging gait,
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick followed, then came Grant Jones singing lustily:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “As I was coming down the road,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Tired team and a heavy load,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- I cracked my whip and the leader sprang
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- A little way down the hill Grant called a halt He had discovered on the
- light dusting of overnight snow the tracks of a big bear, and for the
- moment everything else was forgotten. Bear-hunting to him was of more
- immediate interest than gold-hunting, and but for the restraining hand of
- Buell Hampton the ardent young sportsman would have started on the trail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let’s stop a while,” he pleaded. “Just look at
- those pads. A great big cinnamon bear—a regular whale.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, no,” said the Major decisively, again glancing at the
- sky. “We must press on.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’d like a hug all right,” laughed Roderick, “but
- not from a cinnamon bear in a snowdrift.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gee, but I’m sorry I left my dogs at Dillon,” remarked
- Grant regretfully. “The last thing I said to Scotty Meisch was to
- look after the dogs even if the printing press burned. There’s no
- friend like a good dog, Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rather a doubtful compliment,” replied Buell Hampton with a
- smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Present company always excepted,” laughed the editor
- adroitly. “Well, well; we must let Mr. Bruin go this time. Lead on,
- Macduff, lead on.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And again as he fell into Indian file he sang his song.
- </p>
- <p>
- The lilt and the words of that song, the picture of the stalwart figure in
- the pride of young manhood carolling gaily while marching along through
- the brushwood and down the timbered hillside, were des-tined never to fade
- from the memory of Roderick Warfield. With a sob in his heart he would
- recall the scene many and many a time in the days to come.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile at the camp fire in Hidden Valley, Grady and Bud Bledsoe were
- also afoot. They had awaked from their half drunken slumber, chilled to
- the very marrow of their bones. Even the sight of the heap of nuggets
- could not at first restore warmth to their hearts. There was no whiskey
- left in the flask—not a drain. Their teeth chattering, they piled
- fresh brush on the camp fire, and then a half-rotted tree stump that soon
- burst into flame. Then when warmth at last crept through their frames,
- they too made their plans for the day.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton and Roderick Warfield might come back. Perhaps they had
- camped all night in the mountain cave. In any case it would be safer to
- leave the canyon by the other way—by the trail along which Roderick
- must have entered and which was quite clearly defined in the snow as it
- led up the gorge. Yes; they would clear out in that direction, and Bud
- Bledsoe, who knew every track among the mountains, further proposed that
- they would then cross the range and take the west road to Rawlins. With a
- price on his head he himself could not enter the town—although a
- little later some of the new-found gold would square all that, for the
- present he must lie low. But he would guide Grady on the way, and the
- latter would get into Rawlins first and file the location papers without
- anyone at Encampment knowing that he had made the trip.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That’s the dope,” cried Bud Bledsoe, as he jumped to
- his feet and began stuffing his pockets to their fullest capacity with the
- big and little slugs of gold. Grady followed his example. Then both men
- took up their guns, Bledsoe also the light but strong hair lariat which
- was his constant companion whether he was on horse or foot, and began
- making their way up the canyon, following the well-trodden path through
- the snow along which Buell Hampton and Roderick had retraced their
- footsteps the evening before.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a couple of hours later when the Major, Grant Jones, and Roderick
- emerged from the grotto.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good heavens!” exclaimed the Major. “Look there!”
- And with extended arm he pointed to the ascending smoke of the camp fire
- higher up the valley.
- </p>
- <p>
- With the caution of deerstalkers they ascended by the stream. They found
- that the camp fire was abandoned. The half-gnawed bones, the empty whiskey
- flask, the remnant heap of nuggets, the hollows on the sand where the two
- men had slept—all helped to tell the tale. The names on the
- substituted location papers completed the story—W. B. Grady’s
- name and those of some dummies to hold the ground, illegally but to hold
- it all the same. Bud Bledsoe, the outlaw, had not ventured to affix his
- own name, but the big whiskey bottle left little doubt as to who had been
- Grady’s companion in the canyon overnight.
- </p>
- <p>
- The miscreants had departed—the tracks of two men were clearly shown
- at a little distance from those left by Roderick and the Major. They had
- ascended the gorge.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We have them trapped like coyotes,” declared the Major,
- emphatically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m not so sure about that,” remarked Grant Jones.
- “If there is one man in this region who knows the mountain trails
- and mountain craft it is Bud Bledsoe. He’ll get out of a box canyon
- where you or I would either break our necks to a certainty or remain like
- helpless frogs at the bottom of a well. Then I’ve got another idea—a
- fancy, perhaps, but I—don’t—just—know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He spoke slowly, an interval between each word, conning the chances while
- he prolonged his sentence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What’s your idea?” asked Roderick. But the Major waited
- in silence.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last Grant’s face lighted up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, by jingo,” he cried, “that may be their plan. If
- they can get over the range on to the Ferris-Haggerty road they may make
- Rawlins by the western route. That’s why they may have gone up the
- canyon instead of returning by the cave. For they came in by the cave; it
- is you they followed yesterday, Major, into the valley. The tracks show
- that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have already satisfied myself on that point,” replied Buell
- Hampton. “I have no doubt, since we balked Bledsoe in his previous
- attempt, that he has been on my tracks ever since, determined to find out
- where I got the rich ore. But it surprises me that a man in Grady’s
- position should have descended to be the associate of such a notorious
- highwayman.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, moral turpitude makes strange bedfellows,” said Grant,
- pointing to the depressions where the two claim-jumpers had slept “But
- there is no use in indulging in conjectures at the present time. I’ve
- a proposal to make.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let us hear it,” said the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Luckily I brought my skis with me, strapped to one of the burros.
- Didn’t know when they might come handy amid all this snow. Well, I’ll
- go back to the hut, and I’ll cut across the range, and will
- intercept these damned robbers, if that’s their game, to a
- certainty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Rather risky,” remarked Buell Hampton. “Feels like more
- snow.” And he sniffed the ambient air.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’ll be all right. And you’ve got to take risks
- too. I’ll give Roderick my rifle, Major, and you take your own. You
- can follow the trail of these men, and if they have got out of the canyon,
- then you can get out the same way too. If so, we’ll all meet on the
- range above. Roderick, you know where the Dillon Trail crosses the
- Ferris-Haggerty Road?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick nodded assent.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, we can’t miss each other if we all make for that point.
- And if you don’t arrive by noon, I’ll go right on to Rawlins
- by the western road, and lodge our location papers. I’ll know you
- have Bledsoe and Grady trapped and are holding the ground.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sounds feasible,” said Roderick. “But first of all we’ve
- got to tear down these fraudulent location notices and put our own up
- again.” He pointed to one of the corner stakes. “Just look—these
- claim-jumpers came provided with regular printed forms.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, go ahead with that right now,” said Grant. “No
- doubt the papers have been changed too down on the Major’s ground.
- When you’re through with that job, follow the trail up the canyon.
- Now I’m off for my skis, and then for the road over the hills.
- Good-by. Take care of yourselves. Good-by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And down the valley they heard his voice singing the song of the mountain
- trail:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “As I was coming down the road,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- Tired team and a heavy load,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- I cracked my whip and the leader sprung
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And the off horse stepped on the wagon tongue.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Then his figure disappeared round a bend, and all again was still.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Bledsoe and Grady had taken their time in ascending the canyon. But at
- last they reached the impasse that had brought Buell Hampton and Roderick
- to a halt the previous evening and caused them to retrace their steps as
- the tracks revealed. Just as they were discussing whether it might not be
- necessary for them also to turn back, a deer dashed wildly past them on
- the narrow bench where they stood—so close that they might have
- almost touched it with an outstretched hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- Grady jumped back, frightened by the sudden bound of the swiftly speeding
- animal.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know what that means?” asked Bledsoe quietly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We started the deer, I suppose,” stammered Grady.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. But someone else did—lower down the gorge. We are being
- trailed, boss. We’ve got to get out of this hole in double-quick
- time or chance being shot down from behind a rock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “This wall is impossible,” exclaimed Grady, his frightened
- face gazing up the cliff.
- </p>
- <p>
- Bledsoe was surveying the situation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait a minute,” he said at last. Then he swung his lariat,
- the noose of which, going straight to its mark, caught a projecting tree
- stump full fifty feet above.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you can make that,” he added, as he pulled the rope tight,
- “there’s a ledge running right around and up—see?”
- He pointed with his finger, tracing a line along the rocky wall. “Now
- up you go. I’ll hold the rope. It’s dead easy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Grady dropped his rifle, and with both hands began to climb. Weighted with
- the gold in his pockets, he made the ascent slowly and laboriously. But at
- last he gained the ledge, and scrambling now on hands and knees as he
- moved further upward and onward he speedily disappeared over the rim of
- the cliff.
- </p>
- <p>
- On Bledsoe’s lips was a smile of cold contempt.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hell!” he muttered. “I wanted him to pull up the junk
- first. However, I’ll manage, I guess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He proceeded to tie to the riata his own and Grady’s rifle. Then he
- swung himself aloft.
- </p>
- <p>
- But he was not half way up when a rifle bullet flattened itself on the
- rock not a foot from his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hands up!” came a voice from below.
- </p>
- <p>
- “By God, ain’t they up now?” muttered the outlaw grimly,
- as he jerked himself to a higher foothold. A few more springs and he was
- standing on the ledge. Then, when a second bullet knocked off his hat, he
- ducked and scurried along the narrow footway almost as quickly as Grady
- had done, and was gone from the view of the two riflemen lower down the
- canyon.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on,” exclaimed Roderick. “They don’t seem to
- have any guns. We’ll get them yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton followed to the foot of the cliff. The rifles tied to the
- lariat showed that the fugitives were in truth disarmed, so far at least
- as long-distance weapons were concerned. The Major carefully hid the
- rifles in a clump of brushwood.
- </p>
- <p>
- They were now prepared to follow, but caution had to be used, for Bud
- Bledsoe no doubt had a brace of revolvers at his belt. Roderick climbed up
- the rope first, while Buell Hampton, with his Springfield raised, kept
- watch for the slightest sign of an enemy above. But the fugitives had not
- lingered. Roderick, from the edge of the cliff, called on the Major to
- make the ascent, and a few minutes later they stood side by side.
- </p>
- <p>
- High up on the snow-clad face of the mountain were the fleeing figures of
- Grady and Bledsoe. Yes, they were making in the direction of the
- Ferris-Haggerty Road. Grant would certainly intercept them, while Roderick
- and the Major stalked the quarry from the rear.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I intend to get that thousand-dollar reward for Bud Bledsoe’s
- hide,” laughed Roderick, slipping a cartridge into the chamber of
- his rifle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We must not shoot to kill,” replied the Major. “It will
- be sufficient that they surrender. We have them at our mercy. Come along.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He advanced a few paces, then paused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But there,” he murmured, “I do not like this snow.”
- He held out his hand, and a first soft feathery flake settled on his palm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, well be all right,” cried Roderick. “Besides we’ve
- got to help Grant.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They trudged along, walking zig-zag up the hill to lessen the incline, but
- always keeping close to the trail of the men they were pursuing. On the
- plateau above the snow lay deeper, and at places they were knee-deep in
- the drift, their feet breaking through the thin encrusting surface which
- frost had hardened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a pity we have not web snowshoes or skis,” remarked
- Buell Hampton when they had paused to draw breath. “We could make so
- much better time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, the other fellows are no better equipped than ourselves,”
- replied Roderick, philosophically. “But, by jingo, it’s
- snowing some now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, the feathery flakes were all around them, not blindingly thick as
- yet, but certain precursors of the coming storm. The trail was still quite
- clear although the fugitives were no longer in sight.
- </p>
- <p>
- An hour passed, two hours, three hours—and hunters and hunted still
- plodded on. Roderick felt no misgivings, for he could tell from the lie of
- the hills that they were making steadily for the junction of the
- Ferris-Haggerty Road with the track over the range to Dillon, where Grant
- Jones would now be waiting. But at last the snow began to fall more
- thickly, and the encircling mountains came to be no longer visible. Even
- the guiding footprints were becoming filled up and difficult to follow.
- </p>
- <p>
- All at once Buell Hampton stopped.
- </p>
- <p>
- “These men have lost their way,” he exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “They are going round in a circle. Look here—they have crossed
- their own track.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The evidence was unmistakable.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then what are we to do?” asked Roderick. “I suppose we
- hardly know where we are ourselves now,” he added, looking uneasily
- around.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have my pocket compass—luckily I never travel without it in
- the mountains. But I think it is prudent that we should lose no further
- time in making for Encampment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Grant Jones?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He can look after himself. He is on skis, and knows every foot of
- the Dillon trail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then Grady and Bledsoe?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Their fate is in other hands. If we follow them any longer we will
- undoubtedly be caught in the storm ourselves.” He held a hand aloft.
- “See, the wind is rising. There will be heavy drifting before long.”
- Roderick now felt the swirl of driven snow on his cheeks. Yes, the wind
- had risen.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But we’ll endeavor to save them,” continued Buell
- Hampton. “Perhaps, as they are circling round, they are not far away
- from this spot even now. We will try at all events.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And raising both hands to form a voice trumpet, he uttered a loud: “Hallo
- I hallo!”
- </p>
- <p>
- But no answer came. Again he shouted, again and yet again, turning round
- in all directions. Everything remained silent and still.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Major now glanced at his compass, and took his bearings.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come,” was all he said, as he led the way through the loose
- crisp snow that crunched and cheeped beneath their feet.
- </p>
- <p>
- Half an hour later the storm by some strange vagary abated. The wind was
- blowing stronger, but it seemed to be driving the snow-laden clouds up
- into the higher mountain elevations. All of a sudden a penetrating shaft
- of sunshine flashed through the dancing snow-flakes, then the flakes
- themselves ceased to fall, and the sun was shining on the virgin mantle of
- white that enveloped range and peaks as far as the eye could see.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick glanced down the mountain side. Almost beneath his feet was
- Conchshell Ranch—he could see the home on the little knoll amid the
- clustering pine trees. For the moment he was thinking of Gail. But the
- hand of Buell Hampton had clutched his shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look!”
- </p>
- <p>
- And Roderick looked—away in the direction of Cow Creek Canyon, a
- mighty gash in the flank of the mountains nearly a thousand feet deep and
- more than half a mile across. Standing out, clear and distinct in the
- bright sunshine, were the tall twin towers on either side of the gorge,
- supporting the great steel cable which bridged the chasm and carried the
- long string of iron buckets bringing ore from the Ferris-Haggerty mine,
- fourteen miles distant, down into the smelter at Encampment. Roderick at
- his first glance saw that the aerial cars, despite the recent snow-storm,
- were still crawling across the deep canyon, for all the world like huge
- spiders on a strand of gossamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- But as his eyes swept the landscape he beheld outlined on the white
- expanse of snow the figures of three men. One, standing fully a hundred
- yards away from the other two and lower down the hill, was the
- gorilla-like form of Bud Bledsoe. The others were Grady and Grant Jones on
- his skis.
- </p>
- <p>
- And as Roderick looked, before he could even utter a cry, these two
- figures clutched at each other. For a moment they swayed to and fro, then
- Grant seemed to fling his man away from him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Almost at the same instant, just as a picture might be blotted from a
- screen by cutting off the light, both figures had vanished! Then, like
- steam shot from a geyser, there ascended high into mid-air a great cloud
- of powdered snow, and to the watchers’ ears came a deep boom
- resembling the prolonged and muffled roar of thunder or big artillery.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good God! A snow slide!” gasped Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was stricken dumb. He stood rigid, frozen with horror. He needed
- no one to tell him that Grant Jones had gone over the rim of the canyon,
- down a thousand feet, smothered under a million tons of snow.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXIV—THE PASSING OF GRANT JONES
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>ARLY the following
- morning several hundred searchers were at the scene of the snow slide in
- Cow Creek Canyon. Every precaution was taken not to have anyone walk along
- near the rim of the gorge a thousand feet above. There were still hundreds
- of thousands of tons of snow on the narrow plateau at the top, which any
- disturbance, even no greater than a stone thrown by the hands of a child,
- might start moving. If another slide should occur it would overwhelm and
- crush the intrepid searchers below.
- </p>
- <p>
- A systematic probing of the snow with long iron rods had been begun at
- once and kept up perseveringly until three o’clock in the afternoon.
- Then one of the searchers touched clothing or something with his rod. The
- snow was quickly shoveled aside, and at a depth of about seven feet the
- body of Grant Jones was found lying flat upon his back with his right arm
- stretched out above his head, the left doubled under him. The face was
- quite natural—it wore a peaceful smile. None of his clothing had
- been disturbed or tom—even his cap and his skis were in place. The
- poor fellow had simply been crushed to death or smothered by the many tons
- of snow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Immediately a makeshift sled was constructed by strapping two skis
- together sideways. On this the body was taken up the steep hills by a
- cautiously selected route to Battle, three and a half miles away, and
- thence on to Encampment, twelve miles farther, the improvised sled being
- drawn all the way by strong and willing men of the hills. Accompanying the
- remains were Roderick Warfield, Jim Rankin, Boney Earnest, and other
- faithful friends, while following came a great cortege of miners, mill
- hands, and mountaineers.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was midnight before the mournful procession reached town. And awaiting
- it even at that late hour was a dense crowd, standing with bared heads and
- tear-stained faces. For in all the hill country the name of Grant Jones
- was a household word. His buoyant good-nature was recognized by everyone,
- and probably he did not have an enemy in all southern Wyoming where his
- brief manhood life had been spent. Fully a thousand people, of both sexes,
- of all classes and all ages, formed the escort of the little funeral sled
- on its last stage to the undertaker’s establishment. Here the body
- was received by Major Buell Hampton and the Reverend Stephen Grannon. It
- had been the Major’s duty that day to seek out the clergyman and
- bring him down in a sledge from the hills to administer the last sad rites
- for their dear dead friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- Next day the search was resumed for Grady’s remains. Bud Bledsoe it
- was known had escaped—the Major had seen him running downhill after
- the disaster and others had tracked his footprints, to lose them in a
- clump of timber. So there was only one more body to be recovered. The task
- of probing with the long iron rods went on for several hours. The
- searchers knew the necessity of working both carefully and with speed, for
- another snow slide was imminent. And at last it came, toward the noon hour.
- But warning had been passed along, so that no lives were sacrificed, the
- only result being to pile a veritable mountain of snow over the spot where
- Grady’s body presumably lay. The search was abandoned, without
- regret on anyone’s part; in the spring the avalanche would give up
- its dead; until then the mortal remains of the unpopular and disgraced
- capitalist could well remain in their temporary sepulchre of snow, “unwept,
- unhonored, and unsung.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But for Grant Jones there was public mourning, deep, sincere, and solemn.
- Toward evening the whole town of Encampment seemed to be wending their way
- to the little church where the Reverend Stephen Gran-non was to preach the
- funeral sermon. And these are the words which the venerable Flockmaster
- spoke to the hushed and sorrowing congregation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My friends, our hearts today commune with the battalions who have
- ‘crossed over.’ Love broods above the sleeping dust in a
- service of tears. The past is a dream—the future a mystery.
- Sometimes the tides of dissolution creep upon us silently. Again they are
- as stormy seas and rough breakers that sweep all with reckless cruelty
- into oblivion. But whether the parting be one way or the other, in
- peacefulness or in the savagery of a storm, to loving hearts it is ever a
- tragedy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The grief which is ours today is as old as the ages. It brings us
- into fellowship with the centuries. We know now why Eve wept for Abel and
- David lamented Absalom. Death is the most ancient sculptor in the world.
- Ever since men lived and died, death has made each grave a gallery and
- filled it with a silent statue. Death hides faults and magnifies virtues.
- Death conceals the failings of those who have passed while lovingly and
- enduringly chiselling their noble traits of character.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Centuries of philosophy have not succeeded in reconciling men to
- the sorrows of dissolution. Death makes us all equal with a mutual sorrow.
- We cannot forget our friend who rests here in his final sleep. In happy
- symbolism his shroud was whitest snow, and love thrills our hearts with
- sympathetic memory. Such love is the kindest service of the soul.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Affection for those who have departed has built the mausoleums of
- the world and makes every monument an altar of grief. Whether the hope of
- immortality is a revelation or an intuition is not under consideration
- today. Each man believeth for himself. We know that primitive man away
- back in Egypt buried his dead on the banks of the Nile and thought of
- immortality. We know that love throughout the ages has touched the heart
- with its wings, and hope from the beginning to the end whispers to us that
- ‘if a man die he shall live again.’ I believe that the
- doctrine of evolution gives a potent hope of immortality. Evolution takes
- the mud of the lake and makes a water lily—the hollow reed in the
- hand of the savage grows into a modern flute—the rude marks of
- primitive man in the stone age become poems and anthems in our own age. If
- mist can become stars—if dust can become worlds—if the
- immortality of biology is a truism—if love can come from sensations,
- if the angel of the brain can spring into being from simple cells, why
- then cannot the soul endure forever although undergoing transitions in the
- course of its divine development?
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe in the immortality of the soul. I believe in the religion
- of humanity. Yes, on the far away rim of eternity, Faith seeks a beckoning
- hand and the human heart pulses anew with inspiration and unfaltering
- belief in the immortality of the soul. Let us believe there are songs sung
- and harps touched and kisses given and greetings exchanged in that other
- world. It is better that all other words should turn to ashes upon the
- lips of man rather than the word immortality. Our hearts once filled with
- this belief—this great truth—then every tear becomes a jewel,
- the darkest night flees before the breaking dawn and every hope turns into
- reality.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Before us, my friends, lies the dust of the dead—Grant Jones.
- Away from home—away from father and mother, brother and sister—far
- up in these hills where the shoulders of the mountains are clothed with
- treacherous banks of sliding snow—he was here seeking to carve out a
- destiny for himself, in the morning of early manhood. The Kismet of his
- life, clothed in mystery, caused him to lay down his tools and leave to
- others his but partially accomplished mission. He was journeying upward
- toward life’s mountain-crest—already the clouds were below him
- and the stars about him. For do we not know from his gifted writings that
- this man held communion with the gods? His heart beat full of loftiest
- hope. And then—even before high twelve—he fell asleep. He is
- gone; but a myriad of memories of his achievements gather thick about us.
- We see him as he was, and this virion will abide with us throughout the
- years.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He was a student and a scholar. He read books that had souls in
- them—he read books that converse with the hearts of men and speak to
- them of an exalted life—a life that unfolds an ethical and a higher
- duty incumbent upon the children of men. He knew much about the literature
- of his day—was acquainted with the great authors through their
- writings. Keats was his favorite poet, Victor Hugo his favorite prose
- author and ‘Les Misérables’ his favorite book. Music had a
- thrilling charm for him. To his heart it was the language of the eternal.
- He heard songs in the rocks of towering cliffs, in primeval forests, in
- deep gorges, in night winds, in browned grasses and in tempestuous storms
- and in the pebbled mountain brooks.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We need have no fear for his future, my friends—with him all
- is well. A heroic soul, a matchless man, cannot be lost. His heart was a
- fountain of love. Virtue was his motto—hope his star—love his
- guide. Farewell, Grant, farewell. When with the silent boatman we too shall
- cross the river of death and steal away into the infinite, we believe that
- you will be standing there in the rosy dawn of eternity to welcome us, to
- renew the sweet ties of love and friendship that here on earth have bound
- our hearts to yours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus spoke the Reverend Stephen Grannon, the Flockmaster of the Hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXV.—A CALL TO SAN FRANCISCO
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>OROTHY mourned for
- Grant Jones—for days she wept and would not be consoled. Roderick
- had not seen her since the disaster; when he had called at the ranch
- Barbara had brought a message from her room that she dared not trust
- herself yet to speak to anyone, least of all to the one whom she knew to
- have been Grant’s closest and dearest friend.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick had now taken apartments in the Bonhomme Hotel—it would
- have been too heartrending an experience to return to the shack where
- everything was associated with the memory of his lost comrade. It had been
- his painful task to pack the books, the little ornaments, the trophies of
- the chase, the other odds and ends of sacred relics, and send them back
- East to the old folks at home. He had known it to have been Grant’s
- own wish that, when death should come, his body should rest among the
- hills of Wyoming. So when a simple headstone had been placed on the grave
- in God’s acre at Encampment, the last sad duty had been performed.
- Grief was now deadened. The sweet pleasures of fond reminiscence remained,
- the richest legacy that man can leave behind him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton and Roderick never met without speaking of Grant, without
- recalling some pleasant episode in their association, some brilliant or
- thoughtful contribution he had made to their past conversations. With the
- aid of fragments of torn paper that had been clutched in the dead man’s
- left hand, the hand that had been doubled under him when the body was
- found, they had pieced together the story of that fateful encounter with
- Grady. The latter, bent on discovering and jumping Buell Hampton’s
- secret mine, had carried into the mountains the proper declaration papers
- in printed forms, with only the blanks to be filled in—name, date,
- exact location, etc. Grant must have become aware that these papers were
- all ready signed in Grady’s pocket—perhaps in defiance the
- claim-jumper had flaunted them in his face. For the struggle had been for
- the possession of these documents, the torn quarters of which were still
- in Grant’s hand when the fatal dislodgement of snow had taken place.
- The full infamy of Grady’s long contrived plot was revealed.
- Righteously indeed had he gone to his doom.
- </p>
- <p>
- A week had passed when Roderick found a letter on the breakfast table at
- his hotel. It was from Barbara Shields.
- </p>
- <blockquote>
- <p>
- “My dear Mr. Warfield:—
- </p>
- <p>
- “I write to tell you that we are going to California—to
- spend the winter in Los Angeles. We are all sorrow-stricken over the
- great calamity up in the hills, and Dorothy—the poor dear girl is
- simply stunned. I have known for a long while that she was very fond of
- Grant, but I had no idea of the depths of her feelings.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Papa says Mama and I must start at once and endeavor to cheer up
- Dorothy and help her forget as much as possible the sadness of this
- terrible affair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Bragdon called last night, and is to be our escort to the
- coast. We shall probably return about the first of May. Please accept
- this as an affectionate good-by for the time being from us all.
- </p>
- <p>
- “With cordial good wishes,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sincerely your friend,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Barbara.”
- </p>
- </blockquote>
- <p>
- Meanwhile snow had been descending off and on day after day, until now the
- whole of the mountain country was effectively sealed. Evidently a rigorous
- winter had set in, and it would be many months before Hidden Valley would
- be again accessible. Roderick was not sorry—the very mention of gold
- and mining had become distasteful to his ears. Even when with the Major,
- they, never now spoke about the secret canyon and its hoarded treasures—in
- subtle sympathy with each other’s feelings the subject was tabooed
- for the present Bud Bledsoe had disappeared from the district, no doubt
- temporarily enriched by the nuggets with which he had filled his pockets.
- In the spring most likely he would return and rally his gang of mountain
- outlaws. But until then there need be no worry about the snow-enshrouded
- claims, the location papers for which had been now duly registered at the
- county seat in the names of their proper owners.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton had his books and his work for the poor wherewith to occupy
- his mind. Roderick found his consolation at the smelter. Early and late
- now he worked there, learning the practical operations from Boney Earnest,
- mastering the business details with the aid of a trustworthy old clerk
- whose services had been retained as secretary. Boney, having been made the
- choice of his brother foremen in accordance with the new plan of
- operations, was duly confirmed in his position of general manager, while
- Roderick, formally elected vice-president by the board, held the salaried
- and responsible post of managing-director.
- </p>
- <p>
- Major Hampton withdrew himself more and more into the seclusion of his
- library; he rarely came to the smelter plant; he left everything in
- Roderick’s hands once he had become satisfied of the young man’s
- aptitude for the work; he was content to read the managing director’s
- weekly report showing steady progress all along the line—increased
- output, decreased operating costs, large reductions in waste and
- breakages, in a word the all-round benefits resulting from friendly
- cooperation between capital and labor, no longer treating each other as
- enemies, but pulling together in happy conjunction and for mutual
- advantage.
- </p>
- <p>
- Another circumstance contributing to the general harmony of the community
- was the departure of W. Henry Carlisle, the deposed attorney of the
- smelter company. One of Senator Greed’s hirelings, Carlisle had been
- rewarded by that master of political jobbery with a judgeship in Alaska.
- Thus was the whole country made to pay the price of shameful underhand
- services that had tainted the very atmosphere and might well have caused
- the man in the moon to hold his nose when crossing the state of Wyoming.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, Carlisle’s going put an end to much bitterness and
- squabbling in Encampment, and now month succeeded month in peaceful
- routine. As both smelter and mine were now working Sundays as well as week
- days, Roderick could rarely take a day off—or at least he would not
- allow himself a day off.
- </p>
- <p>
- However, along with Major Buell Hampton he was the guest of Mr. Shields
- for Christmas Day dinner, and learned the latest news of the exiles in
- California; that mother and daughters were well, Dorothy something like
- her old happy self if chastened with a sorrow that would always leave its
- memory, and all thoroughly enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of a winter of
- warmth and perpetual sunshine. There was another item in Mr. Shields’
- budget. Whitley Adams had spent a month in the capital of the southwest,
- had brought along his big touring car, and had given the girls no end of a
- good time.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What took him to Los Angeles?’ asked Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, important banking business, Barbara says,” replied Mr.
- Shields quite innocently.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick smiled. “Would Dorothy be consoled,” he asked
- himself. The enterprising youth certainly deserved the prize; Roderick
- recalled the mirthful warning sent to dear old Grant in the latter’s
- dilatory courting days about the tempting peach and the risk of a
- plundering hand. Indeed Whitley and Grant had been wonderfully akin in
- their boyish good-nature and irrepressible enthusiasm. With Grant gone, it
- seemed quite natural that Whitley and Dorothy should be drawn together.
- Roderick could wish no greater happiness for Dorothy, no better luck for
- his old college chum. Such was the train of his musing the while Buell
- Hampton and their host were discussing the wonderful growth and unbounded
- future of Los Angeles, the beautiful city of garden homes and cultured
- family life.
- </p>
- <p>
- For New Year’s Day Roderick was invited to the Holdens’ place,
- and spent a delightful afternoon and evening. Gail sang and played, and
- the General seemed to be mightily interested in all the wonderful results
- being achieved at the smelter under the new régime. Gail listened somewhat
- distrait, but when the conversation about ores and fluxes and cupola
- furnaces and all that sort of thing seemed likely to be indefinitely
- prolonged she stole back to her piano and began singing to herself, soft
- and low.
- </p>
- <p>
- And presently, while the General meandered on in a disquisition about
- refractory ores, Roderick was no longer paying attention. He was listening
- to the warbling of a thrush in the forest, and his straining ears caught
- the words of the song—“Just a-Wearyin’ for You.” A
- thrill ran through his nerves. He excused himself to the General, and
- crossed over to the piano. Gail instantly changed her song; by a skillful
- transition she was humming now, “Ye Banks and Braes o’ Bonnie
- Dhon.” But their eyes met, and she blushed deeply.
- </p>
- <p>
- During the following weeks Roderick thought much and often about the
- beautiful Gail Holden, and occasionally now he would relax from business
- duties to enjoy a gallop with her on a sunny afternoon over the foothill
- ranges. They talked on many themes, and, although words of love were as
- yet unspoken, there came to them the quiet sense of happiness in
- companionship, of interest in each other’s thoughts and
- undertakings, of mutual understanding that they were already closer and
- dearer to each other than friendship alone could make them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Spring was now rapidly approaching. The meadowlarks were singing, and the
- grass beginning to grow green in the valleys and foothills, the wild
- flowers to paint the slopes and dells in vivid colors. General Holden had
- several days before gone to San Francisco, to visit his brother there in
- regard to some family business. Gail had been unable to accompany her
- father; she had declared that the little ranch at this season required all
- her attention. To comfort her in her loneliness Roderick had promised to
- go riding with her for an hour or two every afternoon. This pleasant duty
- had been properly fulfilled for several days, and one afternoon, with
- Badger ready saddled in front of his office, the young vice-president of
- the smelter company was just clearing up a few items of business at his
- desk before mounting and taking the road for the Conchshell Ranch.
- </p>
- <p>
- A telegram was laid at his hand. He opened it casually, talking the while
- with Boney Earnest. But when he saw the name on the slip of paper, he
- started erect. The message was from Gail, and had come from Rawlins:
- “My father is in hospital, having met with a street accident in San
- Francisco. Have just had time to catch the afternoon train at Rawlins. My
- address will be the Palace Hotel. Will telegraph news about father on
- arrival.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good God!” exclaimed Roderick. “She has taken that
- journey alone. And no one to help her in her trouble and sorrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was no alternative—he could but wait with all the patience he
- could command for the next day’s overland. For he had instantly
- resolved to follow Gail. Like a flash had come the revelation how deeply
- he loved the girl; it had only needed the presence of tribulation to cause
- the long-smouldering spark of the fire divine in his heart to leap into
- flame—to make him realize that, come weal, come woe, his place now
- was by her side.
- </p>
- <p>
- That afternoon he made all his preparations for departure. The evening he
- spent with Buell Hampton, and frankly told his friend of his great love
- for Gail. The Major listened sympathetically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All the world loves a lover,” he said, a kindly glow upon his
- face. “Humanity demands, conscience approves, and good people
- everywhere applaud the genial and glowing warmth of honest love of man for
- maid. And I commend the choice of your heart, Roderick, for surely nowhere
- can be found a finer woman than Gail Holden. Go in and win, and may good
- luck follow you. For friendship’s sake, too, I think it highly
- proper you should proceed at once to San Francisco and look after General
- Holden. I hope he is not dangerously hurt.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have no other information except this telegram,” replied
- Roderick. “But I’ll surely wire you from San Francisco.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim Rankin drove the stage next morning. Roderick took his accustomed
- place on the box seat, and listened to Jim’s accustomed flow of
- language on all the local topics of interest. But during the long drive of
- fifty miles there was only one little part of the one-sided conversation
- that Roderick ever remembered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, siree,” Jim said, “all the folks is readin’
- books these days. I myself have took the craze—I’ve got a book
- about the horse out of our new libr’y an’ I’ll be
- dog-busted if I ever knew the critter had so many bones. Tom Sun is readin’
- about wool growin’ in Australia, and is already figgerin’ on
- gettin’ over Tasmanian merino blood for his flocks. And I’m
- danged if old Wren the saloon-keeper ain’t got stuck with a volume
- on temperance. ‘Ten Bar-Rooms in One Night’. no, by gunnies,
- that’s not it—’Ten Nights in a Bar-Room’—now
- I’ve got it right Guess it will do him a power o’ good too.
- Then all the young fellers have started goin’ to night classes. I
- tell you the Reverend Grannon with his schools an’ his libr’ies
- is just workin’ wonders. An’ who do you think is his right
- hand man, or boy, or devil—call him which you like?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who?” asked Roderick vaguely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Scotty Meisch, that little tad of a cow-puncher you and poor old
- Grant Jones took up and made a printer’s devil of. Well, the parson
- got his hooks in him and tells me he’s turned out to be a
- first-class organizer—that’s his word. It’s Scotty who
- goes around, starts each new lib’iy, and sets the machin’ry
- goin’ smooth an’ proper. It’s a case of a round peg in a
- round hole, although who the hell would have thought it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was pleased to hear this good news of Scotty Meisch, but,
- returning to his thoughts about Gail, failed to follow Jim as the latter
- switched off into another line of “unbosomings.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was glad to be alone at last and in the drawing room of the Pullman car
- which he had reserved by telegraph.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXVI—IN THE CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>FTER a tedious and
- delayed trip of three days and nights Roderick’s train steamed onto
- the mole at Oakland. During the last night he had refused to have the
- berth in his drawing room made down, and had lounged and dozed in his
- seat, occasionally peering out of the car window. The hour was late—almost
- three o’clock in the morning. The train should have arrived at seven
- o’clock the evening before.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was the usual scramble of disembarking, red-capped porters pressing
- forward to carry hand baggage from the train to the ferryboat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Last boat to San Francisco will leave in five minutes,” was
- shouted from somewhere, and Roderick found himself with his valise in hand
- being pushed along with the throng of passengers who had just alighted
- from the train. Once on the ferryboat, he climbed to the upper deck and
- went well forward for the view. The waters of the bay were illumed with a
- half-crescent moon. Far across, six miles away, was San Francisco with its
- innumerable lights along the waterfront and on the slopes of her hills. To
- the right were Alcatras Island and the lighthouse.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then the sharp ping-ping of bells sounded and the great wheels of the boat
- began to turn. Roderick was filled with the excitement of an impatient
- lover. “Gail, Gail, Gail,” his throbbing heart kept thrumming.
- Would he be able to find her? San Francisco was a strange city to Gail as
- well as to himself. She had been on the train ahead of him, and might by
- this time have left the Palace Hotel, the address her telegram had given.
- But he had learned from one of the porters that Gail’s train had
- been greatly delayed and would not have arrived before eleven o’clock
- the previous night. He reasoned that she would perforce have gone to the
- hotel at such a late hour, and would wait until morning to hunt up the
- hospital where her father was being cared for.
- </p>
- <p>
- The boat had hardly touched the slip and the apron been lowered than he
- bounded forward, hastened through the ferryhouse and came out into the
- open where he was greeted by the tumultuous calls of a hundred solicitous
- cab-drivers. Roderick did not stand on the order of things, but climbing
- into the first vehicle that offered directed to be taken to the Palace
- Hotel.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arriving at the hotel Roderick paid his fare while the door porter took
- possession of his grips. Glancing at a huge clock just over the cashier’s
- desk, he noticed the hour was three-thirty a. m. Taking the pen handed to
- him by the rooming clerk, he signed his name on the register, and then let
- his eyes glance backward over the names of recent arrivals. Ah, there was
- the signature of Gail Holden. Fortune was favoring him and he breathed a
- silent prayer of thankfulness that he had overtaken her.
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, he would serve her. He would help her. She should see and she should
- know without his telling her, that nothing else mattered if he could only
- be with her, near her and permitted to relieve her of all troubles and
- difficulties.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Show the gentleman to his room,” said the night clerk and
- bowed to Roderick with a cordial good night.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Roderick turned and followed the boy to the elevator, he realized that
- he was not sleepy—indeed that he was nervously alert and wide awake.
- After the boy had brought a pitcher of ice-water to the room, received his
- tip and departed, Roderick sat down to think it all over. But what was the
- use? “I cannot see her until perhaps eight o’clock in the
- morning. However, I will be on the outlook and in waiting when she is
- ready for breakfast. And then—” his heart was beating fast
- “I certainly am terribly upset,” he acknowledged to himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Taking up his hat, he went out, locked the door, rang for the elevator and
- a minute later was out on the street. He was still wearing his costume of
- the mountains—coat, shirt, trousers, and puttees, all of khaki, with
- a broad-brimmed sombrero to match. A little way up Market Street he
- noticed a florist’s establishment. Great bouquets of California
- roses were in the windows, chrysanthemums and jars of violets.
- </p>
- <p>
- He walked on, deciding to provide himself later on with a floral offering
- wherewith to decorate the breakfast table. He had often heard San
- Francisco described as a city that turned night into day, and the truth of
- the remark impressed him. Jolly crowds were going along the streets
- singing in roistering fashion—everyone seemed to be good-natured—the
- cafés were open, the saloon doors swung both ways and were evidently ready
- for all-comers. When he came to Tate’s restaurant, he went down the
- broad marble steps and found—notwithstanding the lateness or rather
- earliness of the hour—several hundred people still around the supper
- tables. The scene had the appearance of a merry banquet where everyone was
- talking at the same time. An air of joviality pervaded the place. The
- great fountain was throwing up glittering columns of water through colored
- lights as varied as the tints of a rainbow. The splash of the waters, the
- cool spray, the wealth of ferns and flowers surrounding this sunken garden
- in the center of a great dining room—the soft strains of the
- orchestra, all combined to fill Roderick with wonder that was almost awe.
- He sank into a chair at a vacant little table near the fountain and
- endeavored to comprehend it all He was fresh from the brown hills, from
- the gray and purple sage and the desert cacti, from the very heart of
- nature, so utterly different to this spectacle of a bacchanalian
- civilization.
- </p>
- <p>
- The wilderness waif soon discovered that he would be de trop unless he
- responded to the urgent inquiries of the waiter as to what he would have
- to drink.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A bottle of White Rock to begin with,” ordered Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- As he was sipping the cold and refreshing water it occurred to him that he
- had not tasted food since breakfast the day before in the dining car of
- the train. Yes, he would have something to eat and he motioned to the
- waiter.
- </p>
- <p>
- After giving his order he had to wait a long time, and the longer he
- waited the hungrier he became. Presently a generous steak was placed
- before him. Potatoes <i>au gratin,</i> olives, asparagus, and French peas
- made up the side dishes, and a steaming pot of coffee completed a
- sumptuous meal.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he had paid his check he discovered it was almost five o’clock
- in the morning, and as he mounted the marble stairway he laughingly told
- himself he wouldn’t have much of an appetite at seven or eight o’clock
- when he came to sit down at the breakfast table with Gail Holden. Gaining
- the sidewalk he found that darkness was shading into dawn.
- </p>
- <p>
- Instead of returning by way of Market Street, Roderick lit a cigar and
- turning to the right walked up a cross street toward the St. Francis
- Hotel. In front was a beautiful little park; shrubbery and flowers lined
- the winding walks, while here and there large shade trees gave an added
- touch of rural charm.
- </p>
- <p>
- He seated himself on one of the iron benches, took out his watch and
- counted up the number of minutes until, probably, he would see the object
- of his heart’s desire. How slow the time was going. He heard the
- laughter of a banqueting party over at the Poodle Dog, although at the
- time he did not know the place by name.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” he murmured, “San Francisco is certainly in a
- class by itself. This is the land where there is no night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The contrast between the scenes in this gay city and the quiet hill life
- away up among the crags, the deep canyons and snow-clad peaks of southern
- Wyoming was indeed remarkable.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was the morning of April eighteen, 1906, and the night had almost
- ended. There was a suggestion of purple on the eastern horizon—the
- forerunner of coming day. The crescent moon was hanging high above Mt.
- Tamalpais.
- </p>
- <p>
- The town clock tolled the hour of five and still Roderick waited.
- Presently he was filled with a strange foreboding, a sense of oppression,
- that he was unable to analyze. He wondered if it presaged refusal of the
- great love surging in his heart for Gail Holden, the fair rider of the
- ranges, the sweet singer of the hills. An indescribable agitation seized
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- The minutes went slowly by. His impatience increased. He looked again at
- his watch and it was only a quarter after five. The city was wrapped in
- slumber.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then suddenly and without warning Roderick was roughly thrown from his
- seat and sent sprawling onto the grass among the shrubbery. He heard an
- angry growling like the roar from some rudely awakened Goliath of
- destruction deep down in earth’s inner chambers of mystery—a
- roar of wrath and madness and resistless power. The ground was trembling,
- reeling, upheaving, shaking and splitting open into yawning fissures,
- while hideous noises were all around. Buildings about the park were being
- rent asunder and were falling into shapeless heaps of ruin.
- </p>
- <p>
- Struggling to his feet, his first impulse was to hasten to the hotel and
- protect Gail. As he arose and started to run he was again thrown to earth.
- The bushes whipped the turf as if swished to and fro by an unseat hand.
- For a moment Roderick was stunned into inaction—stricken with the
- paralysis of unspeakable fear.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXVII—RODERICK RESCUES GAIL
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T WAS but a few
- seconds until Roderick was again on his feet Hurriedly taking his
- bearings, he started off through the little park in the direction of the
- Palace Hotel. In the uncertain morning dawn the people from innumerable
- bedrooms above the stores were pouring into the streets. They were
- scantily attired, most of them simply in their night garments, and all
- were dazed and stunned with a terrible fright Before Roderick had reached
- Market Street the thoroughfare was almost blocked by this frantic and
- half-clothed mass of humanity. His powerful athletic frame and his
- football experience stood him in good stead, although here roughness had
- to be exchanged for greatest gentleness. He was very persistent, however,
- in his determination to reach the hotel in time if possible to be of
- assistance to Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- Less than ten feet in front of where he was crowding his way through the
- throng of people a portion of a cornice came tumbling down from far above.
- A wailing cry went up from the unfortunates pinned beneath. Roderick
- leaped quickly forward and with the strength of a Hercules began to heave
- aside the great blocks of stone. Others recognized his leadership,
- instantly obeyed his commands and lent their united strength in helping to
- release three men who had been caught under debris. The cries of the
- injured were piteous. Indifferent to the danger of falling bricks and
- mortar Roderick caught up one poor fellow in his arms and carried him as
- if he were a babe into a receding doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My legs, my legs,” the victim moaned. “They’re
- broken—they’re broken.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Quickly removing his coat Roderick placed it beneath the man’s head
- for a pillow, and leaving others to guard, he hastened back to the scene
- of the tragedy, only to find that the spark of life had now gone out from
- the other two bodies pitifully maimed and crushed.
- </p>
- <p>
- He pushed his way into the middle of the street amid the surging mob, and
- again turned his steps toward the Palace Hotel. At last he found himself
- near to the entrance of the great hostelry. But everyone was seeking to
- escape and rushing to the street in riotous disorder. By dint of
- indefatigable efforts he managed to get within the gateway and then to the
- large trysting room across the hall from the hotel office. A group of
- women were endeavoring to revive a poor sufferer who evidently had
- fainted. Approaching, he saw blood coursing down the fair face of the
- unfortunate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My God!” he exclaimed. “It is Gail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- An instant later he had gently pushed the helpers aside and gathered the
- girl in his strong arms. Moving backwards, forcing a passage step by step
- with the determination of one who acts intuitively in a crisis, he managed
- to gain the open. He hoped the air would restore Gail to consciousness.
- </p>
- <p>
- Crossing to the other side of the street where the throng was less dense
- he started toward a high hill that rose up far away. It was covered with
- residences, and if he could once reach that vantage point with his charge
- he felt sure it would be an asylum of safety. The distance was
- considerable and presently the way became steep. But he was unconscious of
- any weight in the burden he carried. His only thought was to get Gail away
- from the burning, falling buildings—away from the central part of
- the city which was now a fiery pit wrapped in sheets of devouring flame.
- </p>
- <p>
- Finally attaining the eminence—it was Nob Hill although he did not
- know the name—he found the porches and front lawns of the beautiful
- houses filled with frightened people viewing the scene in awe and
- amazement. Formalities were forgotten; solicitude and helpful kindness
- reigned supreme among all the people of the stricken city.
- </p>
- <p>
- He called to a little group huddled on the front porch of their home.
- “Here is a lady,” Roderick explained, “who has been
- injured and fainted. Will you please get water and help to revive her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- In hurried eagerness to assist they quickly brought a cot to the porch and
- upon this Roderick gently placed the still unconscious girl. Her face was
- deathly white, and a great red gash was discovered across one side of her
- head, from which the blood was trickling down the marble cheek. The wound
- was bandaged by tender hands and the face laved with cooling water. After
- a little Gail opened her eyes and asked piteously: “Where am I?
- Where am I?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are safe,” said Roderick as he knelt by her side.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, is it you, Mr. Warfield? How glad—how glad I am to see
- you. Where am I?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In San Francisco. Don’t you remember?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, yes, I remember now,” she replied weakly and lifted one
- hand to her aching head. “But papa?—where is my father?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am going to look for him now. You are with kind people and they
- will care for you. Rest quietly and be patient until I return.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her dark blue eyes looked helplessly up into his for a moment; then he
- turned and was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick rushed down the hill, back to the scene of devastation where he
- might be useful in helping to save human life, determined also in his
- heart to find General Holden. But where was he? In some hospital, as Gail’s
- telegram had told.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was debating with himself whether he should return to seek some
- directions from Gail. But just then the surging, swaying crowd pushed him
- irresistibly back, then swept him away along Market Street. The Palace
- Hotel was on fire. Policemen and firemen were thrusting the people away
- from the known danger line.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just then he heard a voice crying out in heart-rending anguish: “My
- little girl’, my little girl.” It was a frantic mother weeping
- and looking far up to the seventh story of a building she evidently had
- just left. There leaning out of a window was a curly haired tot of a
- child, perhaps not more than four years old, laughing and throwing kisses
- toward her mama, all unconscious of danger.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I came down,” sobbed the weeping mother to those around,
- “to see what had happened. The stairway is now on fire, and I cannot
- return. Will no one, oh Lord, will no one save my little girl?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick looked up to where the woman was pointing and saw the child.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My God!” he exclaimed, “smoke is coming out of the next
- window.” He noticed that the adjoining building was already a mass
- of fire. At a glance he took in the situation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold on a minute,” he shouted. “I will try.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was an outside fire escape that led from the top story down to the
- first floor. Roderick made a leap, caught hold of the awning braces,
- pulled himself up with muscles of steel, and grasped the lowermost rung of
- the escape. A moment later he was making his way up the narrow iron
- ladder, pushing through the aperture at each floor, with almost superhuman
- swiftness. When he reached the window he lifted the child in his arms and
- hastily started on the downward journey.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold tight, little girl,” was all Roderick said as he felt
- the confiding clasp of her tiny arms about his neck.
- </p>
- <p>
- Many of the people below besides the almost frenzied mother were watching
- the heroic deed with bated breath. Just then a cry of terror went up. The
- great wall of a burning building across the street was toppling outward
- and a moment later collapsed, burying many unhappy victims beneath the
- avalanche of broken brick and mortar.
- </p>
- <p>
- Whether the little girl’s mother had been caught by the falling wall
- or not Roderick had no means of determining. A choking cloud of dust, ash,
- soot and smoke enveloped him in stifling darkness; he could hardly
- breathe. The very air was heated and suffocating. But down and down he
- went with his little burden clinging tightly to him. Arriving at the
- awnings he swung himself over, secured a momentary foothold, then grasped
- the braces with his hands and dropped to the littered sidewalk below.
- </p>
- <p>
- The mother of the girl was nowhere to be seen. He turned down the street
- to get away from the horrible sight of the dead and the piteous cries of
- the dying. He had scarcely reached the next corner when the child, who was
- mutely clinging to him as if indeed she knew he was her savior, released
- her arms and called out gleefully: “Oh, there’s mama, mama,
- mama.” Then the mother stood before him, weeping now for joy, and
- through her tears Roderick saw a face of radiance and a smile of gratitude
- that time or eternity would never erase from his memory.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nothing mattered now—her little girl was safe in her arms. “I
- don’t know who you are, sir,” she exclaimed, “but I owe
- to you the life of my child, and may the good God bless you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But this was no time for thanks. Roderick was looking upward.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come quickly,” he shouted, “come this way—hasten.”
- And he pulled them down a side street and away from another sky-scraper
- that was trembling and wavering as if about to fall.
- </p>
- <p>
- They turned, and ran along a street that was still free from fire and led
- toward the St. Francis Hotel and the little park fronting it where
- Roderick had sat at dawn. Carefully he guided the woman’s steps,
- keeping to the middle of the street, for the sidewalk was encumbered with
- debris and threatened by partly dislodged brickwork above. Here and there
- the roadway was rumpled and rough as a washboard by reason of the
- earthquake, while at places were great gaping fissures where the earth had
- been split open many feet deep. But soon they were in the open square, and
- mother and child were safe. Knowing this, Roderick allowed them to pass on—to
- pass out of his life without even the asking or the giving of names.
- </p>
- <p>
- For there was other work to his hand; he hurried back to the last
- crossing. There under the fallen débris, was a woman obviously of
- refinement and wealth whose life had been vanquished without warning. One
- hand was extended above the wreckage. It was shapely and encircled with a
- bracelet, while a single diamond solitaire ring adorned her finger—perhaps
- a betrothal ring. Two human ghouls—not men—had whipped out
- their ready knives and were in the very act of severing the finger to
- obtain the jewel. It was these brutes that Roderick had come back to face.
- </p
- <p>
- Like a flash he leaped forward and with a well directed sledge-hammer blow
- felled one of these would-be robbers of the dead. Then he grappled with
- the second scoundrel. The man in his grip was none other than the outlaw,
- Bud Bledsoe!
- </p>
- <p>
- With knife already open and in his hand the inhuman wretch slashed
- Roderick’s cheek, and the red blood spurted down his face and neck.
- Roderick loosed his hold and stepped back a pace—the next gash of
- this kind might easily be a fatal one. But not for one instant did he lose
- his presence of mind or nerve. As the cowardly miscreant advanced, cruel
- murder in his eyes, Roderick by a swift swing of his right parried the
- upraised hand that held the knife, and then, seizing the opening, he
- delivered with his left a smashing uppercut. Bledsoe reeled for a moment
- like a drunken man, then sank to the ground a huddled heap, and finally
- rolled over kicking convulsively and quite insensible.
- </p>
- <p>
- The knockout had been effected quickly and well—like a butcher would
- fell a bullock.
- </p>
- <p>
- Already the devastated city was under martial law, and three or four
- soldiers coming hurriedly up just then, and having seen from the opposite
- corner the hellish attempt of the two wretches to despoil the dead, shot
- them instantly, Bledsoe where he lay writhing, the other as he staggered
- dazed-like to his feet.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick wiped the blood from his face, and thanked the soldiers. “Good
- for you, young fellow,” cried one of them as they continued on their
- way.
- </p>
- <p>
- His wound forgotten, Roderick again looked round to see where he could
- render the most efficient service.
- </p>
- <p>
- The night came on, and he was still at work, rescuing and helping. He had
- been recognized by the Citizens’ Committee of Safety and now wore a
- badge that gave him the freedom of the streets. In all his goings and
- comings he was ever looking for General Holden, and he also made numerous
- trips to Nob Hill, searching for the house where he had left Gail. But he
- could never find the place again, for the raging fire was fast
- obliterating all guiding landmarks.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus for two days—terrible days, pitiful days—for two nights—terrible
- nights, pitiful nights—Roderick drifted with the bands of rescuers,
- doing deeds of valor and of helpfulness for others less strong than
- himself. His face was black with soot and clotted with blood, his coat he
- had parted with at the beginning of the disaster, the rest of his clothing
- was tattered and torn, his sombrero had disappeared, when and how he had
- not the faintest notion.
- </p>
- <p>
- The fire had now burned out its center circle and was eating away at the
- rim in every direction. Roderick suddenly remembered he had tasted no food
- since his early breakfast at Tate’s an hour before the earthquake
- crash. The pangs of hunger had begun to make themselves felt, and he
- concluded to turn his steps toward the outer fire line and endeavor to
- find something to eat.
- </p>
- <p>
- As he walked along from house to house he found them all deserted. Some of
- the household goods were scattered about the lawns, while boxes, trunks,
- and bulky packages were piled on the sidewalks. Presently he found a
- basket which contained a single loaf of bread. This he ate ravenously, and
- counted it the greatest feast he had ever had in his life. He ate as he
- hurried along, thinking of Gail and General Holden—wishing he might
- divide the bread with them.
- </p>
- <p>
- The roar of consuming, crackling flames, the deep intonations of
- intermittent dynamite explosions, and the occasional wail of human beings
- in distress, rose and fell like a funeral dirge.
- </p>
- <p>
- His feet intuitively turned back to the burned district. There might
- yet be more work for him to do.
- </p>
- <p>
- He determined to pick his way across the ruins, and ascending the hill
- opposite make another desperate effort to find Gail. After a fatiguing
- climb over hot embers and around the twisted steel skeletons of burned-out
- buildings he finally stood on the rim of the hill above the saucer-shaped
- valley of flames. Only charred and smoking ruins were about him. The
- beautiful residential district had like the business sections below, been
- swept with the fires of destruction.
- </p>
- <p>
- Where was Gail? Was she safe? Was she dead? Would he ever find her? These
- were some of the questions that kept him in agonizing incertitude.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a weird uncanny attraction about this great amphitheatre of
- flame—an attraction like that of a lodestone; and he feared lest
- Gail had left her refuge in a vain search for her father and met with
- another serious accident. Roderick had visited all the unburned hospitals,
- but no trace of General Holden had he been able to find. The quest for
- both must be resumed; so down the hill he trudged again.
- </p>
- <p>
- Ashes and burning cinders were falling like huge flakes of snow. Once more
- Roderick was in the midst of a throng of people—gaunt and
- hollow-eyed, wearied and worn-out, just staggering along. At last he
- recognized the little park in front of the St. Francis Hotel. Yes, he
- would go there, stretch himself on the grass, and rest and sleep for at
- least a few hours. This would make him ill the fitter for his task of
- searching.
- </p>
- <p>
- Just as he was about to cross the street a dozen people shouted for him to
- look out; but he did not turn quickly enough to discover nor escape a
- burning wooden rafter that fell from the upper story of a building and
- struck him an ugly glancing blow on the head. Roderick dropped to the
- ground unconscious.
- </p>
- <p>
- At this very moment a Red Cross automobile was passing. It stopped
- abruptly at the sidewalk. Two men stepped quickly down and lifted the
- almost lifeless body into the machine. A moment later the auto glided away
- down a side street in the direction of Golden Gate Park.
- </p>
- <p>
- That night there were many in the camps of refuge around the burning city
- who thought about the tall, strong-muscled, square-jawed young stranger in
- khaki garb, while their hearts welled up with gratitude for his timely
- assistance and chivalrous deeds of bravery. Had they but known of the fate
- that had at last befallen their nameless hero, grateful thoughts would
- have been turned into fervent prayers.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE SEARCH FOR RODERICK
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>HE general shock
- of horror caused by the San Francisco disaster was intensified at
- Encampment when the news ran round that three local people had been in the
- stricken city at the moment of the earthquake shock which had laid the
- business centre in ruins and prepared the way for the subsequent
- far-sweeping conflagration. No telegram came from either the Holdens or
- Roderick Warfield, and their silence, their failure to relieve the anxiety
- of the friends they must have known were deeply concerned about their
- safety, could only cause ominous conjectures as to their fate. There was
- no possibility of reaching them by wire, for the Palace Hotel, the only
- known address, had been one of the first buildings destroyed.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Buell Hampton did not wait for telegrams to reach him. He had no
- sooner been apprised of the catastrophe than he was on his way to Rawlins,
- hiring a special conveyance on the mere off-chance that railway schedules
- would have been disarranged and a train might be caught at any moment. In
- this he showed his usual good judgment for within an hour of reaching the
- station he was on board a belated limited, in which he had the further
- good fortune to find one solitary sleeping berth unoccupied. The train was
- loaded with returning San Francisco people who had been absent when their
- homes had been swept away, anxious friends of sufferers, doctors, nurses,
- relief workers of every kind, newspaper men, all hurrying to the scene of
- sorrow and suffering.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was on the morning of the fifth day after the earthquake that Buell
- Hampton, provided with a special permit, at last found himself amid the
- ruins of San Francisco. Many buildings were still burning or smoldering,
- but the area of destruction was now defined and the spread of the flames
- checked. With saddened heart the Major picked his way along what once had
- been Market Street but was now a long mound of fallen stones, bricks, and
- mortar lined by the skeletons of lofty iron-framed buildings. Here the
- work of clearing away the debris in search of victims was in progress. But
- any inquiries of those actively engaged in these operations were useless.
- Buell Hampton passed on.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly he came upon the bread line, a wonderful sight—a long row
- of people of all sorts and conditions, the rich, the poor, the educated,
- the ignorant, the well dressed, the tattered, ranged in single file and
- marching slowly past the commissary to receive a supply of provisions for
- their own famishing selves or for their destitute families. Buell Hampton
- scanned each face; neither General Holden nor Roderick were in the line,
- nor was there any sign of Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then he began a systematic visitation of the refuge camps that had been
- formed around the bumed-out area. The remainder of that first day he spent
- in Golden Gate Park. It was not until the succeeding afternoon that he
- found himself in the crowded tent city out on the Presidio. Here at last
- his patient and persistent efforts were rewarded. He caught sight of Gail
- seated near the door of a tiny tent-house and strode eagerly forward to
- greet her. In his deep emotion he folded the young girl to his breast, and
- she in turn clung to him in her joy of meeting at last a dear friend from
- home.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where is your father?” was the Major’s first inquiry.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is safe. We have this little tent, and I am nursing him. His
- right arm was broken in the street accident, but immediately after the
- fire began all the hospital patients were removed to open places, and here
- I found him, thank God, the very first evening. You see, my uncle’s
- house was burned. He is quartered across the bay at Oakland.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your head is bandaged, Gail. Were you badly hurt?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, that was nothing,” she replied, pulling off the narrow
- band of linen that encircled her brow. “Just a little scalp wound
- when I fell, and it is quite healed now. But, oh, I remember so little
- about the terrible disaster—how I got out of the Palace Hotel at
- all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Roderick—where is Roderick?” asked Buell Hampton.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail’s eyes opened wide—with wonder, then with fear.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick, Roderick!” she exclaimed in a trembling voice.
- “Then it was not a dream?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What dream?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That it was he who carried me out of the hotel building and to the
- veranda of the house where he laid me on a cot and kind friends bathed my
- wound.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No dream, this. It was Roderick for certain. He followed you on the
- next train to San Francisco—intending to go straight to the Palace
- Hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Followed me? Why did he follow me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To render you help when your father was hurt—because he loves
- you—of course, you must have divined how deeply he loves you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The color rose slowly to Gail’s face. But there was fear still in
- her eyes. She pressed her clasped hands to her breast.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then where is he now?” she asked in a tense whisper.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That is what I want to know—I have been seeking both you and
- him. When did you meet last?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Five days ago. After saving me he rushed straight away to seek for
- Papa. I came to believe that it was all a dream. For I have not seen him
- since. Oh, he must have been hurt—he may have been killed.”
- And burying her face in her hands she burst into tears.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton laid a kindly hand on her shoulder. “Come, my dear, we
- can do no good by giving way to weeping. I have been through many of the
- refuge camps, and I shall go right on searching now. You see there are
- thousands of people in these Presidio grounds. He may be within a stone’s
- throw of us here at this very moment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, let me help you.” With a hand she dashed away her tears,
- and stood before him now, calm and resolute. “I will come with you
- right now. I need no hat or anything.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But your father?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is all right He is resting quite peacefully. Just spare one
- moment, please. Come in and shake hands. He will be so happy to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She led the way to the tent door and parted the awning. Buell Hampton
- entered and warmly greeted General Holden. But he told him he could not
- linger, for Roderick must be found.
- </p>
- <p>
- During the remaining hours of daylight the Major and Gail searched along
- row after row of tents. But Roderick remained undiscovered—no one
- had ever heard his name or could remember having seen anyone answering to
- the description given. Reluctantly Buell Hampton quitted the quest and led
- Gail back to her own place of refuge.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am sleeping at Berkeley,” he explained. “It is best
- that we should both have our night’s rest. But I shall be back here
- for you soon after daybreak, and if you can engage someone to watch by
- your father we shall search together all day long. Will that suit, you,
- Gail?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you are so kind taking me,” she replied, resting her
- hands on his shoulders, tears of gratitude in the eyes that looked up into
- his. “It would break my heart not to be with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I would not rob you of love’s sweet duty,” he replied
- as he stooped and gently kissed her on the brow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Another day went by, but still their efforts were unrewarded. On the
- following morning they started for the Seal House, to search the many
- improvised hospitals which they had learned were located there. The first
- place they entered was an immense tent with two or three hundred cots
- ranged in crowded rows.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Buell Hampton and Gail walked down the long central aisle, each took
- one side to scan the physiognomies of the poor sufferers, some moaning in
- delirium, others with quiet pale faces that lighted up to return the smile
- of sympathy and encouragement Presently, the Major who was walking a few
- feet in advance heard an exclamation of joy, and turning quickly saw Gail
- Holden kneeling at the side of a cot There was a bewildered look on the
- face of the patient—a lean drawn face, pallid beneath the tan, the
- chin stubbled with a beard of a few days’ growth, the forehead
- swathed in bandages, one cheek scored with a healing scar. Gail had taken
- one of his hands in both her own. He looked from Gail to Major Hampton and
- then from the Major back to Gail.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is this a vision?” he asked feebly, as if doubting his
- senses.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick, my dear fellow, is it really you?” exclaimed the
- Major, as he bent down over him. “For days we have been hunting for
- you. And now we’ve found your hotel”—he glanced around
- with a little smile—“we don’t propose to lose sight of
- you again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Loosening his hand from Gail’s and taking both of hers in his own
- and smiling feebly, Roderick said: “Really, Gail, I hardly know yet
- whether you are actually here or I am dreaming. You looked pretty white
- that day I carried you from the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is no dream about me, Roderick,” replied Gail brightly.
- “We are going to take care of you, Major Hampton and myself, just as
- you so kindly looked after poor little me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this moment a nurse approached: “So your friends have found you,
- Mr. Warfield?” she said with a cheerful smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Roderick, “the very best friends I have
- in all the world.” As he spoke Gail felt the gentle pressure of his
- hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is this your ward?” inquired the Major of the nurse.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I have had charge of it ever since this makeshift hospital was
- put up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, how is the patient, our friend Mr. Warfield?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He had received a pretty ugly cut—a falling piece of wood or
- something of that sort—on the top and side of his head—a sort
- of glancing bruise. But he is getting on very well now. We have his fever
- under control. For a number of days he was very flighty and talked a great
- deal about Major Hampton.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am honored,” said the Major, bowing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you are Major Hampton?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” said Gail, “Major Buell Hampton is Mr. Warfield’s
- best friend—that is, one of the best.” And she looked quickly
- at Roderick.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How fortunate that you have come when he is convalescing. But tell
- me,” asked the nurse, “who is Gail? In his delirium he talked
- a great deal about her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick’s face flushed, and Gail with rising color immediately
- changed the subject by asking: “How soon would it be safe to have
- the patient removed?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, perhaps tomorrow or the next day. The doctor says he is now
- quite out of danger—the fever is practically gone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At Roderick’s request he was propped up on his little white iron
- hospital cot, chairs were brought, and until far on in the afternoon Gail
- and the Major sat on either side, conversing in quiet, subdued tones,
- relating incidents in the terrible disaster, planning for their early
- return to Wyoming just as soon as Gail’s father and Roderick himself
- could stand the journey.
- </p>
- <p>
- A couple of days later Buell Hampton and Gail arrived at the hospital in
- an automobile, and carried Roderick away to a yacht anchored in the bay
- that had been placed at their disposal. Here Roderick found General Holden
- already installed in a comfortable deck chair, and he was introduced by
- Gail to her Uncle Edward, a hale old gentleman bearing a striking
- resemblance to his brother. The General looked fit even if he did carry
- his right arm in a sling, Roderick although weak from loss of blood was
- able to walk, and both could well congratulate each other on their
- providential escape.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are not going to talk about these awful times,” said the
- General as he gave Roderick his left hand and returned the cordial
- pressure. “But I have to thank you for saving our dear Gail. We all
- fully realize that without your brave and timely help we would not have
- her with us today.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense,” protested Roderick. “Somebody else would
- have done what I did. I was just happy and lucky in having the privilege.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “God bless you!” murmured the father, again pressing the hand
- which he had not yet relinquished.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so say I,” exclaimed the uncle. “We could not do
- without our little Gail.” And he patted her cheek affectionately.
- </p>
- <p>
- There followed a week of blissful rest and happy companionship, at the end
- of which it would have been a hollow mockery to pretend in the case of
- either invalid that any more nursing or lolling in long chairs was
- required. Railroad accommodations were secured for the morrow.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XXXIX—REUNIONS
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>EN days before the
- departure from San Francisco telegrams had been sent in all directions
- giving forth the glad tidings that General Holden and Gail, Roderick and
- Buell Hampton, were safe and would soon be on their homeward way to
- Wyoming. Among those thus notified had been the Shields family at Los
- Angeles and Allen Miller at Keokuk. But it was a great surprise to find
- Whitley Adams waiting the arrival of the morning train at Rawlins with his
- big Sixty Horse Power automobile, and bearing the news that Mrs. Shields,
- Barbara and Dorothy had returned, while also Uncle Allen and Aunt Lois had
- come to Encampment so that appropriate welcome might be given to those who
- had recently come through such terrible and harrowing experiences. Jim
- Rankin and Tom Sun were also on the platform to exchange hand-grips with
- Roderick and the Major.
- </p>
- <p>
- After the first glad salutations Whitley pointed to his car, and announced
- that he was going to drive the party over to Encampment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sorry to be starting in opposition to the regular stage,” he
- said with a sly little wink in Roderick’s direction. “But you
- see Mr. Rankin’s horses are hardly good enough for the occasion.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim drew himself up and pointed to his old Concord stage coach standing
- by, all ready for the road.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The dangnationest finest pair uv roan leaders and span uv blacks at
- the wheel that ever had lines over ‘em in this part of the country,”
- he declared sturdily. “Just wait a bit, young man. ‘Fore we’re
- many miles on the road I make free to prognosticate you’ll be under
- the bed-springs uv that new fangled wagon uv yours and my hosses will be
- whizzing past you like a streak uv greased lightnin’. How would a
- little bet uv ten or twenty dollars suit you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, bankers never gamble,” replied Whitley with undisturbed
- gravity. “Well, you’ll follow with the luggage, Mr. Rankin,
- and no doubt we’ll have the pleasure of seeing you again sometime
- tomorrow. Come away, Miss Holden. Luncheon is to be waiting at my hotel in
- Encampment in a couple of hours.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Blame his skin,” muttered Jim when the big automobile had
- whirled away. But Tom Sun was convulsed with laughter.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He got your dander fairly riz, Jim,” he chuckled.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jim’s visage expanded into a broad grin.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess that’s just what he was arter. But ain’t he the
- most sassy cock-a-whoop little cuss anyhow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shall I help you with the luggage?” laughed Tom Sun.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you just quit the foolin’ game, Tom. Don’t come
- nachural from you. Besides I might be gettin’ a heap peevish and
- kind o’ awkward with my artillery. Suppose we lubricate?”
- </p>
- <p>
- So the old cronies crossed over to the Wren saloon, where a brace of
- cocktails soon restored Jim’s ruffled dignity.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile the automobile was speeding along.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was on the driver’s seat beside Whitley, and absorbing the
- news.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I just insisted on your Uncle Allen coming along,”
- Whitley was telling him. “And Aunt Lois, too. My old folks will
- arrive at the end of the week. Meantime Aunt Lois is helping me with my
- trousseau.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your trousseau!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—socks and things. You see it’s all fixed up between
- me and dear Dorothy. Oh, she’s the best girl ever—you’ll
- remember I said that from the first, Rod, my boy.” His face became
- grave, and his voice took a humble tone. “Of course I know I can
- never, fill the place of Grant Jones, and I told her that. But I’ll
- do my best to make her happy, and I think she cares enough for me to let
- me try.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick pressed the hand next him resting on the steering wheel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I’m sure you’ll be very happy, both of you,” he
- said; “and I congratulate you, Whitley, old fellow, from the bottom
- of my heart.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Whitley looked round and was his gay, light-hearted self once again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks, old chap. Well, Barbara and Ben Bragdon are also ready. We’re
- only waiting for you and Gail.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick’s face reddened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You’re mighty kind but rather premature, I’m afraid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, fudge and nonsense! We’re all agreed the thing’s
- settled, or as good as settled. Great guns anyone with half an eye could
- have told it, to see you handing her out of the train a little while ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Really, Whitley.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There now, just forget all that. So when talking matters over with
- Bragdon and our dear twins I suggested that we might as well ring the
- wedding bells for six as for two at a time—may come cheaper with the
- Reverend Grannon, you know, if we hand it to him wholesale.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick no longer attempted to protest, and Whitley rambled on: “But,
- say, old fellow, your Uncle Allen has one on you. He declares that Gail
- Holden is just the very girl he intended for you right from the beginning—the
- young lady about whom you kicked when you had that row in the banker’s
- room a year and a half ago—Great Scott, how time does fly!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Impossible,” exclaimed Roderick in profound amazement
- </p>
- <p>
- “The very same,” replied Whitley. “The little tot of a
- girl with whom you had that desperate love affair down the river years and
- years ago—oh, quite a pretty story; your uncle told it to me with no
- end of charming details. And now he is mighty proud, I can tell you, over
- his own foresight and sagacity in picking just the right girl for you at
- the very start.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He said that, did he?” queried Roderick with a grim smile.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, and that if you had followed his advice you could have had her
- then, without running away from home and facing all sorts of hardships and
- dangers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir,” exclaimed Roderick firmly. “Gail Holden is
- not that sort of girl. Uncle Allen forgets that she had to be won—or
- rather has to be won,” he added, correcting himself when he caught
- the smile on Whitley’s countenance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you won’t forget,” laughed Whitley, “that I
- stood out of the contest and left the way clear for you. Lucky, though,
- that the College Widow took the bit between her teeth and bolted, eh, old
- man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hush!” whispered Roderick, throwing a warning glance over his
- shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What are you two boys talking about?” asked Gail, with a
- bright smile from her seat at the back of the tonneau.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Old college days,” laughed Whitley, as he changed the clutch
- for a stiff up-grade.
- </p>
- <p>
- Arriving at Encampment, they found Allen Miller walking nervously up and
- down the platform in front of the hotel. The red blood in Roderick’s
- veins surged like fierce hammer strokes, with eagerness to once more grasp
- the hand of his old guardian.
- </p>
- <p>
- He hastily excused himself, jumped from the auto and grasped the extended
- hand of his old guardian. He was soon led away by his uncle Allen, to the
- parlors of the hotel, to meet his Aunt Lois.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I am so glad you brought Roderick here, Allen; for I just knew
- that I would get all fussed up and cry.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There, there, Aunt Lois,” said Roderick cheerily, after
- embracing her warmly, “we are not going to be separated any more,—or,
- if we are, it will not be for long at any one time. I know the way back to
- old Keokuk,” said Roderick, laughing and hugging his dear aunt Lois
- again, “and you and Uncle Allen now know the road out to the Wyoming
- hills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I declare, Lois,” said Uncle Allen, “you and Roderick
- act like a couple of school children.” He laughed rather loudly as
- he said this, to hide his own agitation; but it was noticed that his eyes
- were filled with tears, which he hastily brushed away.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a happy luncheon party at the Bonhomme Hotel, Whitley playing the
- host to perfection, his guests, besides the new arrivals, being the whole
- Shields family, Banker Allen Miller and his wife, and the young state
- senator, Ben Bragdon. And early in the proceedings Gail to her surprise
- learned that Roderick was no other than her little boy lover on the river
- steamer <i>Diamond Joe</i> some fifteen years ago, and blushed in sweet
- confusion when Allen Miller in radiant good humor joked about coming
- events casting their shadows before. Roderick went to her rescue and
- promptly switched the topic of conversation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Toward the close of the meal Buell Hampton was expounding to the banker a
- great irrigation scheme he had in view—to bring into Encampment
- Valley the waters of French Creek and Bear Creek, the former by a tunnel
- through the Hunter Range, the latter by a siphon under the Great Platte
- River, whereby a hundred thousand acres of rich valley lands, now
- wilderness because waterless, could be brought into profitable
- agricultural bearing.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you are going to drive us cattle men off the face of the
- country,” laughed Mr. Shields.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Better happy homes than roaming herds,” replied Buell
- Hampton. “What nobler work could we take in hand?” he asked.
- “The smelter and the mine are running themselves now. Let us then
- see what we can do to make the desert blossom like the rose. Mr. Miller,
- Mr. Shields, myself—we can all help with capital. Mr. Bragdon, there
- is a life’s work for you in this enterprise.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lawyers always come in for fat pickings,” laughed Whitley
- Adams.
- </p>
- <p>
- “General Holden,” continued the Major, “I am sure will
- want to join in too. Then Roderick—”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused and glanced in his young friend’s direction.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I’m prepared to turn in all the gold from my mine,”
- exclaimed Roderick enthusiastically.
- </p>
- <p>
- Indeed Buell Hampton had kindled the spirit of enthusiasm all round. The
- project was as good as launched—the dream of a generation of
- pioneers within sight of realization.
- </p>
- <p>
- When coffee was being served on the veranda, the Major drew Roderick
- aside. They were seated alone at a little table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick, my boy,” Buell Hampton began, “I want to see
- you tonight at my home—all alone. Come about eight o’clock. I
- have several matters of importance to communicate. During the afternoon I’ll
- be busy—I have some banking business to transact, besides I wish an
- hour or two with your uncle before my talk with you tonight. I am sorry to
- leave such a happy gathering, but am sure”—this with a gentle
- glance in Gail’s direction—“that the time will not hang
- heavily on your hands. Until eight o’clock then;” and with a
- tap on Roderick’s shoulder the Major crossed over and spoke a few
- words to Allen Miller, the two taking their departure a few moments later.
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick was mystified—less by Buell Hampton’s actual words
- than by his grave look and manner.
- </p>
- <p>
- Meanwhile Gail had risen and entered the drawing room that opened by
- French windows off the veranda, and the sound of her voice at the piano
- broke him from his momentary reverie. He rose and joined her.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XL—BUELL HAMPTON’S GOOD-BY
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">R</span>ODERICK was prompt
- to the minute in keeping his appointment. He found the Major seated before
- a bright log-fire, and his first glance around the old familiar room
- showed the progress of some unusual preparations. The open lid of a
- traveling trunk revealed clothing and books already packed; the violin in
- its case rested on the centre table.
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton interpreted his visitor’s look of wonderment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Roderick,” he said with a smile that was both tender and
- serious, “I am going away. But let us take things in their order.
- Sit down here, and let us smoke our pipes together in the old way—perhaps
- it may be for the last time in each other’s company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, don’t say that, my dear Major,” protested Roderick,
- in accents of real concern.
- </p>
- <p>
- But Buell Hampton motioned him to his seat, and passed over the humidor.
- For a minute or two they smoked in silence. At last the Major spoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick, I have news that will greatly surprise you. I had a
- telegram from Boney Earnest just before we left San Francisco. I said
- nothing to you, for I did not wish with needless haste to disturb your
- happiness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not about Gail?” asked Roderick, his face paling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, no. This has nothing to do with Gail—at least it only
- affects her indirectly. You spoke today at lunch time about turning in the
- profits of your gold mine into the Encampment Valley irrigation scheme. I
- want to put you right on this mining matter first. Boney Earnest’s
- telegram showed that neither you nor I have a gold mine any longer. Hidden
- Valley has disappeared. Our claims are under five hundred feet of water.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How could this have happened?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have read in the newspapers that the cosmic disturbances of the
- San Francisco earthquake extended entirely across the continent. Indeed
- the shocks were felt distinctly in New York, Philadelphia, Boston, and
- other Atlantic points. Well, a number of prospectors have been up among
- the mountains getting ready to stake around our claims, and they report
- that three miles above Spirit Falls a vast new lake has been formed,
- completely filling the canyon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The shake brought down the grotto cavern, I suppose.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And sealed it, damming back the river. That is undoubtedly what has
- happened. So Roderick, my dear fellow, you have to forget that gold. But
- of course you know that all I have is yours to share.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, no, Major,” exclaimed Roderick, laying a hand on his
- friend’s shoulder. “Besides your all too generous gift at
- Denver, I have my salary from the smelter company, and I’m going to
- chip in to the limit of my power for the advancement of that glorious
- irrigation scheme of yours. I did without the mine before. Thank God I can
- do without it now. My dear father’s letter served its purpose—it
- brought me to Wyoming, and although I have no right to say so just yet I
- do believe that it has won for me Gail Holden’s love.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am sure of it,” remarked Buell Hampton quietly. “She
- has loved you for a long time—you were all in all to her before you
- followed to San Francisco, as the poor girl’s anguish showed during
- those days when we both thought that you had perished.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then, Major,” cried Roderick, the light of great joy
- illuminating his countenance, “if I have won Gail Holden’s
- love I have won greater treasure than the treasure of Hidden Valley—greater
- treasure than all the gold claims in the world.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Spoken like a man,” replied Buell Hampton as he gripped
- Roderick’s hand. The latter continued, his face all aglow: “Everything
- has come out right When my Unde Allen refused to help me in my New York
- ventures he really saved me from cruel and accursed Wall Street where more
- hearts have been broken and lives of good promise wrecked than on all the
- battlefields of the world. When he handed me my father’s letter, he
- took me out of that selfish inferno and sent me here into the sweet pure
- air of the western mountains, among men like you, the Reverend Stephen
- Grannon, Ben Bragdon, Boney Earnest, and good old Jim Rankin too, besides
- our dear dead comrade Grant Jones. Here I have the life worth living,
- which is the life compounded of work and love. Love without work is
- cloying, work without love is soul-deadening, but love and work combined
- can make of earth a heaven.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And now you speak like a philosopher,” said Buell Hampton
- approvingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Which shows that I have been sitting at your feet. Major, for a
- year past not altogether in vain,” laughed Roderick. “From
- every point of view I owe you debts that can never be repaid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then let me improve this occasion by just one thought, Roderick. It
- is in individual unselfishness that lies the future happiness of mankind.
- The age of competition has passed, the age of combination for profit is
- passing, the age of emulation in unselfishness is about to dawn. The
- elimination of selfishness will lead to the elimination of poverty; then
- indeed will the regeneration of our social system be begun. Think that
- thought, Roderick, my dear fellow, when I am gone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was ever thus that Buell Hampton sought to sow the tiny grain of
- mustard seed in fertile soil.
- </p>
- <p>
- “But why should you go away, Major?” asked Roderick
- protestingly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Because duty calls me—my work for humanity demands. But we
- shall come to that presently. For the moment I want to recall one of our
- conversations in this room—in the early days of our friendship. Do
- you remember when I gave it as my opinion that it would be conducive to
- the happiness of mankind if there was no abnormal individual wealth in the
- world?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That a quarter of a million dollars was ample for the richest man
- in the world—I remember every word, Major.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Roderick, today I have transferred to your credit in your
- Unde Allen’s bank precisely this sum.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Major, Major, I could never accept such a gift.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just hear me patiently, please. The sum is quite rightfully yours.
- It is really only a small fraction of what your father’s claim might
- have produced for you had I taken you earlier into my full confidence and
- so helped you to the location of the rich sandbar with its nuggets of
- gold. Moreover, you know me well enough to understand that I count wealth
- as only a trust in my hands—a trust for the good of humanity. And I
- feel that, in equipping such a man as yourself, a man whom I have tested
- out and tried in a dozen different ways without your knowing it—in
- equipping you with a sufficient competency I really help to discharge my
- trust, for I invest you with the power to do unmeasured good to all around
- you. I need not expatiate on such a theme; you have heard my views many
- times. In sharing my wealth with you, Roderick, I simply bring you in as
- an efficient helper for the uplift of humanity. It therefore becomes your
- duty to accept the trust I hand over to you, cheerfully and wishing you
- Godspeed with every good work to which you set your hand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then, Major, I can but accept the responsibility. I need not tell
- you that I shall always try to prove myself worthy of such a trust.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have yet another burden to place on your shoulders. The balance
- of the wealth at my present disposal I have also handed over to you—as
- my personal trustee. At this moment I do not know when and in what amount
- I shall require money for the task I am about to undertake. Later on you
- will hear from me. Meanwhile Allen Miller knows that my initial investment
- will be equal to his own in the valley irrigation scheme. You, Roderick,
- as my trustee may contribute further sums at your absolute discretion; if
- the work requires help at any stage, use no stinting hand irrespective of
- financial returns for me, because with me the thing that counts mainly is
- the happiness and prosperity of this town, its people, and the surrounding
- valley lands.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, Major, can’t you remain with us and do these things
- yourself?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; the call is preemptory. And if perchance you should never hear
- from me again, Roderick, continue, I beg of you, to use my money for the
- good of humanity. Count it as your own, use it as your own. I lay down no
- hard and fast rules to guide you. Give to the poor—give to those in
- distress—pay off the usurer’s mortgage and stop excessive
- interest that makes slaves of the poor family struggling to own a little
- thatched cottage. Give wherever your heart is touched—give because
- it is God’s way and God is prompting you by touching your heart.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Roderick listened in silence, deeply moved. He saw that Buell Hampton’s
- mind was made up—that no pleading or remonstrance could alter the
- decision at which he had arrived. The Major had now risen from his chair;
- there was a softness in the rich full tones of his voice, a look of half
- pain in his eyes, as he went on: “But remember, although we may be
- parted, our friendship abides—its influences endure. Friendship, my
- dear Roderick, is elemental—without commencement and without end—a
- discovery. From the beginning of furthest antiquity, the pathway of the
- centuries have been lined with tablet-stones pronouncing its virtues.
- Friendship is the same yesterday, today, tomorrow and forever. It is an
- attraction of personalities and its power is unseen and as subtle as the
- lode-stone. It is the motive that impels great deeds of bravery in behalf
- of humanity. It speaks to the hearts of those who can hear its accents of
- truth and wisdom, and contributes to the highest ideals of honor, to the
- development of the sublimest qualities of the soul. It is the genius of
- greatness; the handmaiden of humanity. I have sometimes thought that if we
- could place in our own souls a harp so delicately attuned that as every
- gale of passion, of hope, of sorrow, of love and of joy swept gently over
- the chords, then we would hear in the low plaintive whisperings the melody
- of friendship’s sweetest note—that quivers and weeps and
- laughs on the shore line of immortality.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Your friendship, Major,” said Roderick fervently, “will
- always be one of the most deeply cherished things in my life. But I cannot
- reconcile myself to the thought that we should part.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buell Hampton laid a hand upon the young man’s shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Duty calls—the two little words are enough, although it
- grieves me sore to think that most likely we shall never meet again. Your
- work is here—your usefulness lies here. But as for me, my mission in
- the hills is finished. I am going to a far away country—not a new
- one, because there are many in squalor and poverty where duty leads me.
- There I will begin again my labors for the lowly and the poor—for
- those who are carrying an unjust portion of life’s burdens. There is
- no lasting pleasure in living, my dear Roderick, unless we help hasten the
- age of humanity’s betterment. Good-by,” concluded the Major,
- smiling into Roderick’s eyes and pressing his hand warmly—“good-by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Almost dazed by the suddenness of the parting Roderick Warfield found
- himself out in the darkness of the night He was stunned by the thought
- that he had gripped his dear friend’s hand perhaps for the last time—that
- there had gone out of his life the one man whom above all others he
- honored and loved.
- </p>
- <p>
- Thus passed Buell Hampton from among the people of the hills. None of his
- intimates in or around Encampment ever saw him again.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XLI.—-UNDER THE BIG PINE
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>N the following
- afternoon Roderick saddled his pony Badger and rode over to the Conchshell
- ranch. The Holdens received the news of Buell Hampton’s mysterious
- departure with deep regret; the Major had become very dear to their
- hearts, how dear they only fully realized now that he was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was toward evening when Gail proposed that they go riding in the woods.
- The invitation delighted Roderick, and Fleetfoot and Badger were speedily
- got ready.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let us follow the old timber road to the south,” Roderick
- suggested. “I want to show you, only a few miles from here, a
- beautiful lake.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know of no such lake,” she replied.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yet it is less than five miles away, and we shall christen it
- Spirit Lake, if you like the name, for it lies above Spirit Falls.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are dreaming. There is no such lake.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will show it to you. Come along.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Upward and onward he led her over the range. And when they gained the
- summit, there at their feet lay the great new lake about which Buell
- Hampton had told him, fully seven miles long and two miles wide, and not
- less than six or seven hundred feet deep as Roderick knew, for he had
- gathered nuggets of gold on the floor of the little canyon now submerged
- beneath the placid blue waters.
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail gazed in silent admiration. At last she exclaimed: “Spirit
- Lake! It is well named. It is more like a dream than reality.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He helped her from the saddle. They tethered their mounts in western
- fashion by throwing the reins over the horses’ heads. They were
- standing under the branches of a big pine, and again they gazed over the
- waters. At the lower end of the lake was a most wonderful waterfall,
- dashing sheer down some four hundred feet into Spirit River.
- </p>
- <p>
- For several minutes they continued to gaze in enraptured silence on the
- scene of tranquil beauty. Toward the east the forest was darkly purple—to
- the west, across the waters, the hills were silhouetted in splendid
- grandeur against a magnificent sunset. The whole range seemed clothed in a
- robe of finest tapestry. The sun was rapidly approaching the rim of the
- western horizon.
- </p>
- <p>
- The afterglow of the red sunset marked paths of rippling gold on the
- waters. Vague violet shadows of dusk were merging over all. Nature was
- singing the lyric of its soul into things—crooning lake and
- mountains and forest-clad slopes to slumber.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was Gail who at last broke the spell.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, how beautiful, how supremely beautiful,” she murmured.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it is the earthquake that has wrought all this wonderful
- change,” explained Roderick’. “And now, dear Gail, I
- have a story to tell you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And, seating her on the turf by his side, under the big pine, where the
- waters lapped at their very feet, he proceeded to relate the whole
- romantic story of his father’s lost find—his own lost claim.
- By the time the narrative was ended the sun had set behind the hills.
- Roderick rose, and giving his hands, helped Gail to her feet.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So all this wonderful treasure of Hidden Valley lies beneath these
- waters,” she exclaimed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, but for me the real treasure is here by my side.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As he spoke these words his arm stole around her waist. She did not appear
- to notice his half timid embrace as together they stood viewing the
- panorama of a dying day. Presently he drew her closer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The day and the night blend,” he whispered softly as if
- fearful of disturbing the picture. “Shall not our lives, sweetheart,”
- asked Roderick with vibrant voice, “likewise blend forever and
- forever?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Gail half turning lifted her slender hands to Roderick’s cheeks and
- he quickly clasped her tightly in his strong arms and kissed her madly on
- lips, eyes and silken hair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Roderick, my lover—my king,” said Gail through pearly
- tears of joy.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My little Gail,” whispered Roderick, exultantly, “my
- sweetheart—my queen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Slowly the light of day vanished. The sounds of night began walking abroad
- in the world. Dusk wrapped these lovers in its mantle. The day slept and
- night brooded over forest, lake and hills.
- </p>
- <p>
- In a little while they lifted the bridle reins of their mounts and turning
- walked arm in arm down the old timber road toward Conchshell ranch.
- </p>
- <p>
- They halted in the darkness and Roderick said: “Do you mind, dear,
- if I smoke?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not,” was her cheery reply.
- </p>
- <p>
- He bit the cigar and struck a match. The fight reflected on Gail’s
- radiant face. “Wonderful,” he ejaculated as he tossed the
- match away, laughing softly. He had quite forgotten to light his cigar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, what did you see, Roderick, you silly fellow, that is so
- wonderful?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I saw,” said Roderick, “the dearest little woman in the
- wide, wide world—my mountain song girl—who is going to be
- kissed with all the pent-up passion of a ‘grizzly’ in just
- one-half second.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0042" id="link2H_4_0042"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- AFTERWORD
- </h2>
- <p>
- Into the warp and woof of my story of the West, “The Treasure of
- Hidden Valley,” there have been woven a few incidents of the great
- calamity that some years ago befell the city of San Francisco. Perhaps
- some of my readers will care to peruse a more detailed description of that
- tragic happening.
- </p>
- <h3>
- W. G. E.
- </h3>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>T was on April 18,
- 1906, that San Francisco was shaken by a terrible earthquake which in its
- final effects resulted in the city being cremated into cinders and gray
- ashes.
- </p>
- <p>
- The trembling, gyrating, shaking and swaying vibrations, the swiftly
- following outbursts of fire, the cries of those pinned beneath fallen
- débris and of the thousands who were seeking to escape by fleeing into the
- parks and toward the open country, produced the wildest pandemonium.
- </p>
- <p>
- While there was no wind, yet a hundred fires originating at different
- points quickly grew into sheets of towering flame and spread to adjacent
- buildings, burning with demoniacal fierceness as if possessed by some
- unseen mysterious power, pouring forth red hot smoke until the prostrate
- city was melted into ruin by the intense heat of a veritable hell.
- </p>
- <p>
- The night of April 17 and 18 had almost ended in San Francisco. It had
- been like many another night in that cosmopolitan city. Pleasure-seekers
- were legion,—negligent, care-free, wrapped in the outward show of
- things—part of it good—part of it not so good—some of it
- downright wicked as in Ancient Pompeii. Yet the hour was late—or
- early, whichever you will—even for San Francisco. The clock in the
- city hall had resounded forth five strokes. Peaceful folk were in the
- realm of dreams that precede awakening. The roistering hundreds of a
- drunken night had gathered in places of vice and were sleeping away the
- liquor fumes. The streets were almost deserted.
- </p>
- <p>
- The great printing presses that had been reverberating with the thunders
- of a Jove, gathering and recording the news from the four quarters of the
- earth, had paused and all was still. Here and there morning papers were on
- the streets and the preliminary work was in progress of sending them forth
- to the front doorsteps of the homes of rich and poor, from one end of the
- city to the other. Then, without warning, just eighteen minutes after the
- city clock had tolled its five strokes, one of the greatest news items and
- tragedies of the world’s history was enacted. An historical
- milestone of the centuries was on that eventful morning chiseled on the
- shore line of the Pacific Coast.
- </p>
- <p>
- Suddenly from the womb of sleeping silence, from far below the earth’s
- crust, just as the dawn of a new day began purpling the eastern sky, there
- came forth a rumbling and muttering of unearthly noises like the
- collapsing of palaces of glass or the clanking of giant chains. It came
- from beneath the entire city and was borne upward and abroad on the
- startled wings of a mysterious fear. It was a shrieking, grinding
- confusion of subterranean thunder, like the booming of heavy artillery in
- battle. It was deafening in its dreadfulness, and drove terror to the
- heart of the hardiest. It sounded to the affrighted people as if two
- mighty armies of lusty giants of the underworld were grappling in mortal
- combat and in their ferocious anger were unwittingly breaking the earth’s
- fragile shell into yawning cracks and criss-cross fissures. Mount
- Tamalpais was fluttering like the wings of a snared pigeon.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the space of seconds, the whole populace awoke, excepting those who had
- answered the last call; for some there were, pinned under falling walls,
- who were overtaken by swift death in the very act of awakening.
- </p>
- <p>
- The uncounted number that were crushed to death and had life’s door
- closed to them forever, no one will ever know. In the forty-eight seconds
- that followed the beginning of the deep guttural bellowing of hideous
- noises from somewhere below the earth’s surface, buildings rocked
- and heaved and twisted, while heavy objects of household furniture were
- tumbled across rooms from one corner to the other and the occupants
- helplessly tossed from their beds.
- </p>
- <p>
- Such an awakening, such lamentations, such cursing, such prayers, and then
- into the debris-littered streets the multitude began pouring forth,
- half-clothed, wild and panic-stricken.
- </p>
- <p>
- The stunning shock, like a succession of startled heart-beats, lasted
- twelve seconds less than one minute, but those who experienced the ordeal
- say it seemed an eternity—forty-eight seconds—terrible seconds—of
- sickening, swaying suspense. A heaving earth, jerking, pulsing to
- and fro in mad frenzy, while countless buildings were swaying and keeping
- time to a wild hissing noise like the noise of boiling, blubbering fat in
- a rendering caldron.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was the dawn of a new day abounding in hideous noises—detonations
- of falling masonry, the crash of crumbling, crushing walls, the shrieks of
- maimed and helpless victims—and all the people stupefied with a
- terrible fear, women weeping in hysterical fright and everyone expectant
- of they knew not what, unable to think coherently or reason, yet their
- voices filling the stricken city with cries and moans of heart-rending
- terror and lamentation. And all the while there came up from somewhere an
- unearthly threatening roar that awed the multitude into unnatural
- submissive bewilderment.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the end of eight and forty seconds the frantically tossed earth quieted—became
- normal and was still. Some of the buildings righted and were quiescent,
- and a moment of silence followed, except for the crowing of cocks, the
- whinnying of frightened horses and the whining of cowering dogs. This
- condition, however, was only of momentary duration.
- </p>
- <p>
- Almost immediately the streets became a wild scene of turmoil as the
- half-clothed, half-crazed men, women and children went rushing up and down
- in every direction, they knew not why nor where. Doors were broken open to
- allow egress, shutters were slammed, windows were hastily raised, and like
- a myriad of ants the rest of the people who until now had been penned up,
- struggled forth into open ways—thinly clad, some almost naked,
- trembling, gazing about awe-stricken, looking each at his fellow,
- indifferent to the destruction going on about them, each filled with
- prayerful thankfulness for life. Then, like a rehearsed orchestra of many
- voices, there arose, seemingly in unison, a chorus of heart-piercing wails
- and calls from thousands of throats for loved ernes—loved ones lost
- who could not answer.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the pale light of that April dawn, this vast army of survivors, while
- chilled with outward cold, shivered also with an unspeakable inward dread.
- </p>
- <p>
- Along the streets of proud San Francisco in every direction were huge
- masses of bricks, cornices, fallen ragged chimneys and walls, tumbled
- together in complex dykes of débris like the winrows of a hay field and
- interspersed with the dead and dying bodies of man and horse alike,
- vanquished in life’s uneven contest.
- </p>
- <p>
- A little later in the vicinity of the ten-million-dollar courthouse,
- crowds of frightened people gathered, attracted perhaps by the terrific
- thundering of the mammoth stone slabs and concrete sides and columns of
- the structure, as, in their loosened condition from the steel skeleton,
- they kept crashing down upon the street in riotous disorder.
- </p>
- <p>
- Every block in the city held its tragedy, its silent evidence of a mighty
- internal upheaving of Goliath strength. There were hundreds of dead, while
- others lay maimed in tortured suffering, buried under wreckage, pinned
- down by the giant hands of the Angel of Destruction. The unfortunates
- still living were fastened like insects caught in traps, helpless, but
- hoping for relief, awaiting the unwritten chapter that was yet to come.
- </p>
- <p>
- The great earthquake of San Francisco had spent its force—its rude
- results lay in careless disheveled evidence on every hand—and now
- the nerve-strained, half-crazed and bewildered people caught the sound of
- fire bells clanging hurriedly into nearer distances.
- </p>
- <p>
- The fire hose and the corps of hook and ladder men came rushing with all
- speed, drawn by frenzied horses, hastily turning street corners and
- dashing around fallen walls while the automatic fire bells were cutting
- the air in metallic, staccato beats of wildest alarm. Soon the throbbing
- of the fire engines began and false hope sprung rife in the hearts of the
- people. Those running south on Market Street paused in bewilderment, not
- knowing which way to go, for fire calls and flames were evident, not in
- one location nor two, but in hundreds at widely separated places
- throughout the erstwhile magnificent metropolis of the Occident.
- </p>
- <p>
- Black columns of smoke began rising from ominous red furnace flames
- beneath, and curled lazily into the balm of the upper air, indifferent to
- the wails of the helpless unfortunates maimed and pinned beneath the
- wrecked buildings of a demolished and burning city.
- </p>
- <p>
- The murky smoke like mourning crape hung mutely above, while beneath its
- canopy life’s sacrificial offering lay prostrate, the dying and the
- dead. The consuming flames spread quickly, and the horror of the hopeless
- condition of the injured was soon apparent, while the sobs and cries of
- the doomed victims became maddening because of the very impotency to
- succor them.
- </p>
- <p>
- The suddenness of it all did not give time for the rescuers. Then too, the
- smoke-blinded and half-choked people in the crowded, congested streets
- were stampeding toward the open country—to Golden Gate Park and the
- Presidio. Many of the trapped victims, well and strong, might have escaped
- but could not exert normal power to shake off the fetters that held them
- down under fallen wreckage too heavy for their hampered strength. It was a
- veritable bedlam, some cursing, some praying, most all crying loudly as if
- in crazed pain for assistance.
- </p>
- <p>
- The first paroxysm passed, the poor unfortunates seemingly became more
- patient, believing that relief would surely come. The crackling flames
- mounted higher and came alarmingly nearer. Finally, as the conflagration
- with a hurried sweep began to envelop these pinioned human beings, they
- shrieked in agony like lost souls in terrible anguish at a most horrible
- and certain death. Their voices rose with the rising of the flames until
- at last the piteous cries were hushed perforce, and only the crackling
- sound of burning wood and the forked tongues of raging red fire greeted
- the sun, that morning of April 18, as it climbed above the eastern
- mountains and looked upon the scene of woeful destruction.
- </p>
- <p>
- Is it any wonder that strong men wept? Is it to be marveled at that those
- separated from friends and relatives grew bewildered, frantic and crazed
- with grief and fear, and that chaos reigned supreme?
- </p>
- <p>
- Gradually amid the whirl of emotions there stepped forth men who until now
- had been stunned into silence and temporarily bereft of reason. The first
- staggering shock passed, they became possessed in a measure with calmness
- and courage. They girded their belts afresh and although many of them
- began by cursing the heartless, cruel fire and the terribleness of it all,
- they quickly and determinedly turned to the stupendous work of endeavoring
- to subdue its ravages.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then a new terror raised its ghostly head and held the people in a grip of
- deepest despair. The earthquake had broken the supplying water mains, and
- presently the city was without water and the fire engines and other
- fire-fighting apparatus were worthless junk. It was a grievous blow to
- momentarily raised hopes and courageous resolution.
- </p>
- <p>
- The flames raged on with the fleetness of race horses, eating out the
- heart of the city, burning it into cinders, and cremating the flesh and
- bone of fallen victims.
- </p>
- <p>
- Dynamite was brought into use, gunny sacks and bedding of all sorts were
- saturated with water from barrels and tanks. Grappling hooks and human
- hands made up the armament of puny defense against the over-powering and
- masterful flames of annihilation.
- </p>
- <p>
- Against these feeble weapons, the grim demon of fire planned an attack of
- certain devastation. It was as if his Satanic Majesty with all his imps
- were in their ruthless cunning directing a fiendish work that would permit
- no record but death to the unfortunate, no record to the proud city but
- gaunt-ribbed skeleton buildings, red hot cinders and blackened ash heaps.
- </p>
- <p>
- Overturned stoves in a thousand houses throughout the residential
- districts had early started a multitude of fires and split the
- fire-fighters into many divisions, and therefore into less effective units
- in their futile efforts even partially to check the mighty master—the
- devouring tempest of fire that crackled and sported in its insatiable
- greed.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was still to follow yet another misfortune, an execrable crime—that
- of wicked inhuman incendiarism. At places flames burst forth kindled by
- the hands of a coterie of merciless ghouls. These inhuman devils added to
- the calamities heaped upon their fellows by setting fire to unburned
- dwellings whose owners had fled. There was neither necessity nor reason
- for their dastardly acts. With sponges soaked in kerosene, they did this
- damnable work—indulging dreams perhaps of greater loot, greed and
- avarice in their cruel eyes, blackest hell in their debauched hearts.
- </p>
- <p>
- In the beginning of this losing fight with terrors of the fire king,
- seemingly unconquerable, only one ray of hope was discernible—there
- was no wind from ocean or bay in San Francisco that April morning. The
- clouds that filled the heavens with ominous blackness were only stifling
- smoke from the burning buildings below.
- </p>
- <p>
- High above the crimson snake-tongued flames the black smoke hung like a
- pall, silent and motionless, while fringing it around far away in every
- direction was the clear blue sky, serene, unfathomable.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the heroic work of fighting the fire demon progressed, it was soon
- discovered that the police were insufficient. Crowds of ghouls were
- pressing the firemen, while robbery, rapine and murder ran riot. Human
- blood that day was easily spilled. For the sake of pelf and plunder, life
- was cheap.
- </p>
- <p>
- The boldness of this lawless condition brought about its own remedy.
- Strong men arose in their might. Under able leadership they quickly formed
- a committee of safety. The National Guard was sent to help them.
- </p>
- <p>
- General Fred Funston of the U. S. Army telegraphed to the Secretary of War
- for authority, and within three hours was hurrying United States troops
- into the burning city, and immediately placed it under martial law. The
- crowds were quickly driven back by the soldiers, fire lines were
- established, government troops, guards and police all bent nobly to the
- task of endeavoring to subdue the flames. Buildings were dynamited to shut
- off the fire’s progress, insubordinate as well as predatory ruffians
- were shot down without mercy, and thus was order brought out of chaos. But
- as the hours went by, despite all efforts, the gormandizing flames
- consumed acres and acres of buildings.
- </p>
- <p>
- Every wandering automobile was pressed into service and loaded with
- dynamite. Thus for hour after hour the losing fight with the merciless
- flames went on.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the fire burnt its way south on Market Street, the isolated centers
- crept toward each other with ever widening circles of flame. While there
- was no breeze to fan them on, yet the flames seemed possessed of some
- invisible means of progression—an unseen spirit of continued
- expansion lurked within. The buildings were like so much dry timber,
- igniting without direct contact of spark or flame, only from the
- tremendous heat that was generated. Sweeping on and on the different
- conflagrations at last came together—joined in greater strength,
- flared up hundreds of feet high, until it looked as if the entire city was
- one vast molten lake of undulating waves of fire.
- </p>
- <p>
- The roar of the flames could be heard far beyond the confines of the city—the
- immense columns and clouds of black smoke continued to sweep upward, until
- high aloft they spread out into the great canopy as if in shame they fain
- would hide from angels above the terrible destruction being wrought in
- this fiery pit below.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the hours went by, the exodus of people continued. The fascination of
- it all held the multitudes spell-bound. They for a time were forgetful of
- hunger, but moved on, this way and that as the burning districts compelled
- them to go. The public parks began to fill with refugees. The Presidio and
- the hills overlooking the city were blackened with throngs of people
- shivering from cold and beginning to suffer the pangs of hunger, the rich
- and the poor touching shoulders, condoling one with the other in
- lamentations. This surging mass of famishing humanity were clothed, or
- partially clothed, in strange and ridiculous costumes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Household goods littered the outlying streets. Most of the wayfarers who
- reached the country had little luggage. Many had carried some useless
- article nearest at hand, selected in their hurry without thought of its
- value or utility.
- </p>
- <p>
- One woman held a bird cage under her arm—empty, with the door
- swinging open. Another carried a carving knife in one hand and a
- feather-bedecked hat of gaudiness in the other. One man was seen dragging
- an old leather-bound trunk by a rope—investigation proved the trunk
- to be without contents.
- </p>
- <p>
- Notwithstanding the people had lost their all, and in most cases were
- famishing, yet the great mass were good-natured and tolerant, the strong
- helping the weak. The chivalry of the West and its rugged manhood abided
- in their midst There was a common brotherhood in the ranks of these
- homeless human beings. Distinctions between rich and poor were obliterated—they
- were all fellow refugees.
- </p>
- <p>
- No street cars were running in the city. Market Street, into which the
- greater number of street car railroad tracks converged, was littered with
- fallen buildings, useless hose and fire fighting apparatus, twisted beams,
- cinders, heaps of hot ashes and charred bodies of the dead.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was about eleven o’clock in the morning of the first day of this
- terrible devastation that the famous Palace Hotel had finally been emptied
- of its last guest. The rooms throughout were bestrewn with fallen plaster
- from ceiling and walls, but otherwise, strange to narrate, the structure
- had suffered but little damage from the earthquake while all around were
- collapsed and fallen buildings.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the Mission Street side of the building and on the roof the employees
- had fought bravely to save this noted hostelry. But as the noon hour
- approached they gave up all hope. Hurrying through the rooms of the
- departed guests in an endeavor to save, if possible, abandoned luggage,
- they gossiped about the “yellow streak,” as they called it, of
- a world-noted singer—a guest of the hotel—who had been
- frightened almost to death by the earthquake and developed evidence of
- rankest selfishness in his mad efforts to save himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then in sadder tones they talked of the impending and inevitable
- destruction of the magnificent hotel, where most of them had been employed
- for years. As the heat from the on-sweeping flames began to be unbearable,
- they hurried away one by one until the famous caravansary was finally
- deserted by man and in full possession of the ruthless devouring flames.
- </p>
- <p>
- Great crowds stood on Montgomery Street near the site of the Union Trust
- Building and watched the burning of the Palace Hotel. Held back by the
- soldiers in mournful silence, the mass of people watched the angry flames
- leaping from roof and windows. Soon the fire spread to the Grand Hotel
- across the street. The flames shot up higher, and then when their task of
- destruction was finally finished, gradually sank down until nothing but
- roofless, windowless, bare bleak walls, gaunt, blackened and charred, were
- left—a grim ghost of the old hotel that boasted of a million guests
- during its gorgeous days of usefulness, and around which twined a thousand
- memories of the golden days of the Argonauts of California.
- </p>
- <p>
- Half a block away a newspaper building had been blown up by dynamite—a
- similar attempt with the Monadnock Building failed of its purpose.
- </p>
- <p>
- When night finally fell, those on the north side of Market Street rejoiced
- greatly, for it seemed that the fire, at least in the down-town business
- district, had burned itself into submission. So said a well-known milliner
- for men, as he ate a huge steak at a famous resort on the ocean shore and
- indulged heavily in champagne in celebration of the saving of his
- premises. He celebrated a day too soon—the following morning his
- business house was in ashes.
- </p>
- <p>
- To the few who were care-free in the sense that they had not lost
- relatives or friends, the panorama of the fire when darkness came on will
- never be forgotten because of the wonderful pyrotechnic display—the
- magnificent yet appalling splendor and beauty of the burning city.
- </p>
- <p>
- The scene was set as by a wonder-hand of stagecraft. The fire was raging
- fiercely in an immense pit—topographically the lowest part of the
- city. Around this pit the rising ground, like a Greek amphitheatre,
- stretched up toward the Sutro Estate and Ricon Hill on the one side and
- toward California Street, Nob and Telegraph Hills on the other. To the
- east was Alcatraz like a sentinel in the waters; across the Bay the cities
- of Alameda, Oakland and Berkeley. On every vantage point the people
- gathered—on the heights of Alcatraz and on the roofs of buildings in
- the trans-bay cities. In silence they gazed at the awe-inspiring drama of
- destruction that was being enacted before them.
- </p>
- <p>
- With the advance of night, the towering flames in this vast sweep of many
- miles of a circular fire line presented a scene that defies description.
- The general color effect was of a deep blood red, while the smoke as a
- background to the picture belched up in rolling black volumes, with here
- and there long forks of flashing fire shooting above the deep crimson glow
- of the mighty furnace.
- </p>
- <p>
- Before the roaring billows of flame the tallest buildings were as tinder
- wood in their helplessness. The Call Building, lifting its head high above
- its neighbors, was like an ignited match-box set on end. The living
- flaming wall behind overtopped it as a giant does a pigmy.
- </p>
- <p>
- Nine o’clock! Ten o’clock! Midnight!—and those who
- watched and waited and slept not, with nothing but excitement to stay
- their hunger, saw in the lurid light that by a flank movement the fire had
- unexpectedly crept far up Montgomery Street from the Ferry. The trade
- winds were stirring. The fire, in its pulsing undulations, presented the
- lure and the sensuous poetry of death. It barred all trespassing on the
- one side and burnt its way through on the other. It was seen that the
- entire banking district was doomed. Alas, the feeble protests of feeble
- men! It was a wild outlaw, untamed and untamable fire, that defied all
- human interference.
- </p>
- <p>
- And Chinatown—the world-noted Chinatown of San Francisco—what
- of that? It too had gone the way of annihilation. They say brutality was
- practiced, and it is whispered to this day that those in charge of
- dynamiting the Chinatown section of the city were careless and did not
- warn the inmates of opium dens—it is said they blew up many
- buildings that held within them, or in the grottoes beneath, innumerable
- inmates. Whether or not this is true no one can positively say. If true,
- there is some excuse. The Chinese dwellings were honey-combed underground
- with dark and devious passages, and it was perhaps impossible, for lack of
- time and dearth of knowledge how to penetrate these hidden recesses, to
- warn the drugged dreamers.
- </p>
- <p>
- In this district the fire raged as if possessed by a million devils. Over
- the city’s tenderloin on the edge of Chinatown, it swept with a
- flame of reckless wrath and purification. Buildings whose very timbers
- were steeped in vice and immorality burned into ashes of cleanliness. The
- haunts of the lustful, the wine-bibber and the dope-fiend were consumed in
- a fashion horrible, terrible, pitiless and final.
- </p>
- <p>
- The city was burned into scrap iron of contortioned steel beams, ragged
- chimneys half broken and heaps of blackened cinder. As the hours went by
- it seemed the fire continually found new fuel to feed upon in its savagery
- and madness. The accumulation of days and years of human labor crumbled
- into nothingness. Thousands, then hundreds of thousands, then millions,
- until the enormous total reached $600,000,000 of wealth that was melted
- away in this fiery crucible!
- </p>
- <p>
- Egypt, cursed by Moses and weeping for its firstborn, was in no more
- pitiable plight than this calamity-visited city of San Francisco shaken by
- earthquake shock, then swept by fire.
- </p>
- <p>
- Four and one-half miles one way the fire travelled, then four and one-half
- miles the other it burned its devastating way. Behind it in its path of
- ruin were only cracked granite walls, twisted steel girders, crumbling and
- broken cornices; before it, a scattering field of a few untouched
- buildings yet to conquer.
- </p>
- <p>
- A Nero with an evil eye on a city’s undoing, and the power of a
- wicked tyrant to fulfill his sordid wish, could have been no more ruthless
- in his dastardly heartless methods of destruction.
- </p>
- <p>
- When the fire was finally ended the buildings that had been burned, if
- placed in a row, would have extended for two hundred miles in a straight
- line.
- </p>
- <p>
- Never in the world’s history has there been such a fire. The burning
- of ancient London was child’s play beside it. Chicago’s fire
- was a mere bagatelle. Never has the world read, never had the world
- dreamed, of such a conflagration. In days to come, grandfathers will tell
- of it to their grandchildren, nodding their sage old heads to emphasize
- the horror of it all, relating to the young people who gather about their
- knees, how great buildings supposed to be fire-proof crumpled up before
- the swirling sheets of melting flame and the entire city became a prey to
- the all-devouring conqueror. And this is the tragic story of proud San
- Francisco, cosmic-tossed and fire-beleaguered capital of the Occident.
- </p>
- <div style="height: 6em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
-<pre xml:space="preserve">
-
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