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diff --git a/old/52461-h/52461-h.htm b/old/52461-h/52461-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 7ab988a..0000000 --- a/old/52461-h/52461-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,15580 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> - -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> - <title> - The Treasure of Hidden Valley, by Willis George Emerson - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> - - body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } - hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} - .foot { margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; text-align: justify; font-size: 80%; font-style: italic;} - blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} - .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} - .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} - .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} - .xx-small {font-size: 60%;} - .x-small {font-size: 75%;} - .small {font-size: 85%;} - .large {font-size: 115%;} - .x-large {font-size: 130%;} - .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} - .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} - .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} - .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} - .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} - .indent40 { margin-left: 40%;} - div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } - div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } - .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} - .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} - .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: 0.6em; - font-variant: normal; font-style: normal; - text-align: right; background-color: #FFFACD; - border: 1px solid; padding: 0.3em;text-indent: 0em;} - .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 15%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - .head { float: left; font-size: 90%; width: 98%; padding-left: 0.8em; - border-left: dashed thin; text-align: center; - text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; - font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} - p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} - span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 0.8 } - pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} - -</style> - </head> - <body> -<pre xml:space="preserve"> - -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 - - - - - - -</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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