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diff --git a/old/69671-h/69671-h.htm b/old/69671-h/69671-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index f5714ef..0000000 --- a/old/69671-h/69671-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1181 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html> -<html lang="en"> -<head> - <meta charset="UTF-8"> - <title>Greener than Spruce, by Herbert Farris</title> - <link href="images/cover.jpg" rel="icon" type="image/x-cover"> - <style> - body { - margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 6%; - background: #fff; color: black; font-size: medium; - font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; - } - h1 { - margin-top: 5%; text-align: center; - clear: both; font-weight: normal; - font-size:100%; - } - p { - margin-top: 0.2em; text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0.2em; text-indent: 4% - } - blockquote { font-size:0.9em; } - hr.tb { border:none; margin-bottom:1em; } - .ifpc { margin-left:17%; width:65% } - .x-ebookmaker .ifpc { margin-left:5%; width:90% } - .tn { font-size:0.9em; border:1px solid silver; margin-top:1.8em; - margin-left:8%; width:80%; padding:0.4em 2%; background-color: #DDDDEE; } - .tn p { text-indent:0; } - .sb { margin-top:1.5em; } - </style> -</head> - -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Greener than spruce, by Herbert Farris</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Greener than spruce</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Herbert Farris</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 7, 2023 [eBook #69671]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Roger Frank and Sue Clark</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREENER THAN SPRUCE ***</div> - -<h1>GREENER THAN SPRUCE</h1> -<div class='ifpc'> - <img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='image' style='width:100%'> -</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:1.2em;margin-top:1em;'>Greener than Spruce</div> -<div style='text-align:center;margin-top:0.5em;'>By Herbert Farris</div> -<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em;margin-bottom:1em;'>Author of “Plenty Grub an’ Plenty Gold,” etc.</div> - -<p>“Maybe greener men <i>have</i> hit Alasky—but I doubt it!”</p> - -<p>The speaker, a rheumy-eyed, old veteran of the trails, spoke -thus disparagingly of young Harris Benton. The old-timer’s -perpetual “sun-grin” expanded visibly as he watched Benton’s -parka-clad figure disappear around a bend in the river -trail.</p> - -<p>“Wonder how long he’ll last,” the old fellow speculated, -turning to the group on the river bank. “I’ll bet I’ve showed -him a dozen times how to tie his snowshoes to his feet, an’ I’ve -told him little things about pitchin’ his tent and makin’ camp, -till I’m black in the face. It’ll be three-four weeks yet before -mushin’ll be any good, but I’ve got a right good notion to load -up the old Yukon sled an’ take out after that young -chechahco.”</p> - -<p>“An’ why?”</p> - -<p>The old-timer had paused for that query. -The question certainly gave pith and point to the clever thing -on the tip of his tongue. The remark would have lost its savor -in the telling; the retort, however, was pungent.</p> - -<p>“An’ why?” he repeated. “I’ll -tell you for why. I’ve been snow-blind twice, so my eyes ain’t -what they used to be. Nowadays, when I ain’t wearin’ snow -glasses—an’ blast the dang things, I hate ’em!— I’ve got to -keep my eyes clamped on the spruce.</p> - -<p>“Spruce is dang restful to the eyes. -It’s restful because it’s green, but to keep on lookin’ at it, a -man’s got to twist his head from one side the river to the -other, an’ there’s times when I think I’m li’ble to twist my -head plum off—like a screech owl. Now, instead of takin’ all -that trouble, I <i>could</i> -start out an’ foller after this young Benton. -Instead of lookin’ at the spruce then, I could keep my eyes -fastened straight ahead on <i>him</i>. He’s greener than -any spruce that ever growed.”</p> - -<p>If young Harris Benton could have heard -this sarcastic speech, he would have been rudely made aware of -the withering contempt in which he was held by the general run -of Alaskans with whom he had come in contact. Had he been aware -of the feeling which existed, he would not have been offended in -the least; he would have been amused. He was green but, unlike -many greenhorns, he realized the fact and was anxious to learn. -Moreover, he was willing to accept the hard knocks—a part of -the curriculum of Alaska’s trail school—and come up smiling. -For Harris Benton, although he was probably the greenest -chechahco in the North, had not been raised a pet.</p> - -<p>At noon, young Benton hauled his sled to -the river bank and, with considerable difficulty, dropped a dead -spruce tree and built a small tea fire. After his noon meal he -unloaded his Yukon sled, inverted it so that the steel-shod -runners shone like twin mirrors in the rays of the sun; -then—and this is almost past believing—he proceeded to smear -the steel shoes of the sled runners with lubricating -oil.</p> - -<p>The dealer who had sold him the -oil—either unscrupulous or a practical joker—had seriously -informed him that “greased sled runners makes mighty easy -slippin’ on the trail.” Harris Benton had innocently bought five -gallons of the lubricant.</p> - -<p>Where a musher pulls without dogs, as -young Benton was doing, every pound of excess weight is an -additional check to his progress. And besides the five gallons -of lubricating oil, Harris Benton was hauling other -nonessentials. He had more clothing than he really needed; about -twenty pounds of books and old magazines, and the merchant from -whom he had bought his outfit had sold him far too many cooking -utensils. Benton’s entire outfit weighed almost twelve hundred -pounds, and, since at best he could haul but four hundred pounds -on his Yukon sled, he was relaying. He would haul from three to -four hundred pounds as far up the river trail as he could -possibly travel in a day, cache his load, and return to his camp -with his empty sled.</p> - -<p>Early in the month of May he reached the -Kentna country. He had been on the trail four months, and he had -arrived with pick, pan, and shovel, together with ample food to -last him through the mining season. Also—as every old-timer in -the Kentna country will testify—he had arrived with the -ambition and energy of a half dozen men in spite of the grueling -work on the trail.</p> - -<p>Young Benton spent his first week after -arriving at “the cricks” in building a cache for his supplies. -It was a simple box affair, built of logs, supported high in air -by four posts. He was busily stowing his food and other supplies -in the cache, when a voice at his elbow brought him about with a -start. Looking up from his work, he saw the old-timer who had -offered him many helpful suggestions back at the trading post. -The old man was surveying him, his small stock of provisions, -and his crude cache, with frank curiosity.</p> - -<p>“Well, I see you landed here all right,” -he remarked by way of greeting. “I’m camped just above here on -Penny Ante Crick, an’ I ain’t got a thing to do till the snow -goes off, so I thought I’d mush over an’ see how you’re gettin’ -along. Staked yourself a claim yet?”</p> - -<p>Benton admitted that he had not. “I -didn’t know it was lawful to stake a claim unless you discover -gold,” he added.</p> - -<p>“Plenty of ’em stakes first an’ find the -gold afterward—if there’s any to be found.” The old man’s -rheumy eyes were mildly disapproving. “I wouldn’t worry too much -about makin’ my discovery, if I was you. Most any gravel you -find around here carries <i>some</i> gold. Trouble is -to find it in payin’ quantities. So hurry up an’ stake yourself -a claim or two, before some of these ground hogs comes in on the -first boat this summer an’ grabs it all. Us old-timers takes -just what we can work to good advantage, but most greenhorns’ll -wear out a pair of hobnail shoes just a-racin’ over the country -stakin’. You’re lucky to be here among the first, so hurry up -an’ get busy.”</p> - -<p>“Thanks for the tip. I’ll——”</p> - -<p>“It’s none of my business,” the old-timer -suddenly interrupted, “but what in thunder have you brought into -the country in <i>that</i>?”</p> - -<p>Benton had placed his five-gallon can of -lubricating oil near the cache, and it was that which had -elicited the question. He was somewhat puzzled.</p> - -<p>“Why, that’s my oil,” he said. “How do -you carry yours?”</p> - -<p>The ancient sour dough had all he could -do to keep a straight face. This green chechahco had actually -brought kerosene into this wilderness!</p> - -<p>“You won’t have no use for a lamp,” he -said gently. “All summer you can read fine print right in your -tent—any hour of the night, too. I thought ev’ry-body -knowed——”</p> - -<p>“I have no lamp,” young Benton -interrupted impatiently. “I’m green but I’m not quite a fool—I -hope. That isn’t oil for a lamp; it’s about four gallons of -lubricating oil that I had left over from my winter’s -sledding.”</p> - -<p>“I see.” The old man shifted his weight -from one moccasined foot to the other, swallowing his Adam’s -apple twice before he once more found his voice. “I understand -you but I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “How much of this -oil did you use an’ how did you use it?”</p> - -<p>“Well, I used about a gallon.” Young -Benton was looking doubtfully at the old man. “I think I see -what you’re driving at now. I allowed that storekeeper to sell -me five gallons when one was all that I needed.”</p> - -<p>The old-timer lifted his tufted eyebrows. -“An’ you got through the winter with one gallon,” he said -softly, wonderingly.</p> - -<p>“Why, I only used it in the morning and -again at noon. Just when I—but maybe I didn’t use it often -enough. Still, the sled came along pretty well.”</p> - -<p>The old-timer barked apologetically in -his mittened hand. At last he understood. It had been so many -years since he had heard of the old joke of greasing sled -runners that he had forgotten. But this boy was so very much in -earnest, it wouldn’t do to hurt his feelings. And besides, it -might lead to serious trouble. This innocent youth had dragged -this worthless stuff over the trail—pounds and pounds of it. -Murder had been committed for less than a joke like -that!</p> - -<p>“The skinflint sold you too much, all -right,” he said, as he reached down and thoughtfully “hefted” -the can. “But you’ve got it here—I reckon you might as well -forget it. Anyhow, you won’t have any more use for it. You’re -all through sleddin’. An’ now I’d better be gettin’ along. If -you want anything this summer, you’ll find me over on Penny Ante -Crick. Number Five Above Discovery’s the name of my -claim.”</p> - - -<p class='sb'>Harris Benton was highly elated when he -next saw the old-timer. Not only had he staked a claim on what -he called Benton Gulch but he had actually discovered gold and -he had found it in paying quantities. For a week he had panned -the gravel on Benton Gulch, and he was now displaying his sample -to the old-timer. The old man listened attentively to the boy’s -story, but did not enthuse over the sample.</p> - -<p>“You’ve come clean over here to Penny -Ante Crick to show me this, an’ I’m right sorry to have to -disappoint you.” In spite of the old man’s words, young Benton -was grinning cheerfully. “It takes a whole lot to discourage a -young rooster like you,” he resumed, “but I’ll soon show you why -you’ve got to leave that gulch alone. I don’t doubt what you -say. You got the gold here to prove it. But how’re you goin’ to -work the ground? Answer me that.”</p> - -<p>Harris Benton still grinned. “I know why -you think I can’t work that ground,” he said. “It’s what you -old-timers call a dry gulch. I know there won’t be drinking -water there this summer. What you overlooked is this. By digging -a ditch less than a quarter mile in length I can get one of the -best sluice heads in this country. Right over that shoulder at -the head of my gulch is where I——”</p> - -<p>“I know where you mean, all right,” -interrupted the old-timer. “But have you talked with Joe Murtry -yet?”</p> - -<p>“Haven’t even seen him. But why should I -talk to him? What has he to do with it?”</p> - -<p>“Ev’rything. Joe Murtry owns ev’ry drop -of water in Caribou Crick. He recorded it last spring a year -ago.”</p> - -<p>Young Benton was on the point of -interrupting, but the old-timer silenced him. “Now don’t start -to tell me that all you’ve got to do is to go over to Caribou -Crick an’ get Joe Murtry to give you the right to take what -water you want, for Joe ain’t that kind. He ain’t only the -luckiest man in Alasky—he’s the <i>meanest</i>. If he’s worth -a dime, he’s worth a half million right now, but even so, he -wouldn’t give a man daylight in a dark cellar. You just forget -you ever staked a claim on that little gulch an’ start out -prospectin’ for something that’ll do you some good.”</p> - -<p>Young Benton thanked the old man for his -advice. “But,” he added, “I’m not going to start out -prospectin’, when I’ve already discovered gold—unless I’m -forced to do so. I’m going over to see Murtry at -once.”</p> - -<p>“All right; but be ready to run if he -comes at you. He’s the meanest man in Alasky, bar none. Joe -Murtry never done no man a favor, an’ he never will. Mark what I -tell you, son. He’ll chase you off his ground just as soon as -you show up an’ tell him what you want. You’re just wastin’ your -time. But, then, that’s the trouble with all chechahcos; they -won’t listen to an old-timer’s advice.”</p> - -<p>Young Benton went at once to Caribou -Creek. In spite of what he had heard of Joe Murtry, he was not -convinced. There was an abundance of water in Caribou Creek, and -surely no man would be mean enough to refuse to allow the use of -the surplus. This line of reasoning gave him great confidence, -but his first glimpse of Murtry caused his heart to -sink.</p> - -<p>Murtry was not tall, but he was as broad -as two average-sized men. Yet he was not fat. His arms were -unusually long, and, due to a slight stoop to his powerful -shoulders, his huge hands hung slightly ahead of his knees. -Young Benton looked at him and instantly thought of a gorilla. -With two others, Murtry was setting up a string of sluice -boxes.</p> - -<p>Benton watched them for a time; twice, -without waiting to be asked, he gave them a hand. Murtry, who -had barely spoken, paused at last and sized up his caller. What -he saw evidently satisfied him.</p> - -<p>“Want a job?” he asked gruffly. “I’m -taking one of these men upriver tomorrow, an’ if you’re lookin’ -for work, you can stay here an’ help Sam. Do whatever he tells -you.”</p> - -<p>Here was a golden opportunity. Surely if -he favored Murtry, he might expect the big fellow to -reciprocate. “I’m not looking for work for the season,” he said, -“but I’ll be glad to help out for a few days—if that will do -you any good.”</p> - -<p>Murtry grunted. “All I need,” he said. -“I’ve got a foreman an’ fifteen men waitin’ for me upriver. They -mush in from the coast—their time starts the first of June -whether they’re here or not. Hunderd an’ fifty miles from here. -I’m goin’ up in my boat an’ bring ’em down. You stay an’ help -Sam out till I come back with my men, an’ I’ll pay you the goin’ -wages—ten bucks an’ grub.”</p> - -<p>Sam soon shuffled off to cook the evening -meal, and Benton decided to say nothing about his sluice head of -water until after they had eaten. Their pipes going, he thought -it time to broach the subject.</p> - -<p>“I didn’t tell you that I was a neighbor -of yours,” he said by way of opening the conversation. “I spent -the winter sledding in my outfit.”</p> - -<p>“That so?” Murtry said with a mild -simulation of interest. “Where you camped?”</p> - -<p>Benton indicated the direction. “Right -over there,” he said, “I’ve named it Benton Gulch.”</p> - -<p>“You ain’t staked that little dry gulch?”</p> - -<p>“Why, yes. You see, I believe there’s a -little gold there—I don’t know how much—I’ve already done -quite a bit of panning and I hope to——”</p> - -<p>“You’re a fool!” Murtry interrupted in a -rage. “If you don’t know that I own ev’ry drop of water in -Caribou Crick, it’s time you was learnin’. How do you aim to -work that gulch without water?”</p> - -<p>“That’s what I came over to see you -about,” said Benton. “I heard that it was your water and I -thought that you would be glad to spare me a sluice head.” -Benton was speaking calmly, in spite of the other’s belligerent -attitude. “Of course,” he went on, “if the water in Caribou -Crick should run low this summer or fall, I’d quit taking it -out, but——”</p> - -<p>“You’d <i>quit</i> takin’ it out!” -Murtry cried. “You’re never goin’ to -<i>begin</i> takin’ it out! If -you ever start monkeyin’ with Caribou Crick, I’ll drill you so -full of holes you’ll look like——”</p> - -<p>Murtry’s anger was intensified by his -failure to find the word he was seeking. “Say,” he cried, “you -get clean off this claim! Beat it quick, while you’re all -together!”</p> - -<p>Benton was sitting at the rough table; he -rose slowly. “Why certainly—if it’s your claim—I’ll leave.” He -was speaking hesitantly but he was not afraid of the glowering -bully who had commanded him to leave. He was simply surprised at -the man’s unreasonable anger. “But even if I have no water, that -gulch belongs to me, and I mean to hold it.”</p> - -<p>“Hold it as long as you want to!” Murtry -was shouting after him. “Hold it till you get good an’ tired of -doing assessment work on it! Wait a minute till I tell you -something you’d just as well know now as later!” Benton paused -and Murtry continued. “There ain’t any gold in that gulch, but -even if there was, <i>you’d</i> never get to work it. I’ve got the water an’ I -aim to keep it!”</p> - -<p>The old-timer was right. He was right -about everything! He had said that Joe Murtry was the meanest -man in Alaska; he had said that no matter how much gold the tiny -gulch might carry, Murtry would never allow it to be worked. -Benton considered the various things that the old-timer had told -him until he reached his camp in Benton Gulch. Well, he decided, -he would follow the old man’s advice and quit the gulch on the -following day.</p> - -<p>Benton had been prospecting the gulch -every day for more than a week. Through force of habit he took -his pick, shovel and gold pan, and went to work in the narrow -cut which he had been running into a shoulder of the hill near -his tent. He was far from an expert with the gold pan, but he -enjoyed the beginner’s thrill, which always came when he “tailed -off” the residue in the pan, and saw the streak of yellow -trickling behind the black sand.</p> - -<p>Young Benton extended his cut three feet -into the hill. He was following along the disintegrated slate -bed rock; although he did not realize it, the bedrock was -totally different. Before it had been “slick,” now it was rough -and “rotten.”</p> - -<p>He filled his pan with gravel and carried -it to a hole which he had dug in the gulch’s channel. Now the -hole was filled with water from the melting snows; in a week, -perhaps, it would be dry. At least the old-timer had said that -it would, and Benton was now a firm believer in the wisdom of -the old man.</p> - -<p>It is a maxim with old-timers that “many -things are mistaken for gold, but gold is never mistaken for -anything else.” A greenhorn is often fooled, for example, by -iron pyrites and “cube” iron, but when he discovers gold, the -real thing, he knows. So it was with Benton. For a week he had -been panning “pinhead stuff” that would “rattle in the pan.” -Now, as he “tailed off” the pan he had taken from the -disintegrated bed rock, he saw that a half-dozen dull-yellow -pieces of gold were in the bottom of the pan. Benton’s old-timer -would have pronounced them slugs.</p> - -<p>Benton was excited. He held the slugs in -the palm of his hand, while he attempted to estimate their -value. The smallest of them, he decided, was fully twice as -large as a five-dollar gold piece; the largest was surely worth -more than twenty dollars. The six slugs would total almost a -hundred dollars. Chechahco that he was, Benton still knew that -he had uncovered bonanza dirt.</p> - -<p>Young Benton went again to his cut. This -time he worked feverishly for two hours. His pay streak was -rich, extremely so, but there was a heavy overburden to handle. -In other words, above the pay he had discovered on bed rock, lay -ten, twenty, possibly as much as fifty feet of muck and gravel. -Undoubtedly the ground was rich enough that he could take out -hundreds of dollars that summer without water, but if he could -only manage to get that sluicehead from Caribou Creek, he could -with a pressure hose, run that overburden off like so much soup. -He <i>must</i> have that water? But how?</p> - -<p>At five o’clock next morning young Benton -was seated on the stump of a spruce where the clear waters of -Caribou Creek gushed into the brown foam-flecked river. He -looked at Murtry’s river boat which was beached near by. It -rested on two fresh-peeled logs, and Benton saw that all -preparations had been recently made to launch the vessel. At six -o’clock, Murtry and one of his men put in an appearance. Benton -had no time to lose; he spoke to Murtry at once.</p> - -<p>“Murtry,” he said, without rising from -his stump, “I’ve been thinking the matter over and I wonder if -you would consider <i>selling</i> me a sluice -head of water from Caribou Crick. I’ll pay you what it is -worth.”</p> - -<p>Murtry paid him no attention. He and his -man put their shoulders at the stern of the boat and skidded the -vessel into the river. Murtry made a line fast to a convenient -“dead man,” while his man leaped into the stern of the boat and -started the engine. No sooner did he have the engine purring -rhythmically, than he shut it off.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter?” Murtry, who was -about to cast off and leap aboard, made the line fast again. -“Anything wrong with that engine?”</p> - -<p>“No, but——” The man was looking -at Murtry in wide-eyed alarm. He was -afraid to tell what was wrong, and yet he dared not remain -silent. “Mr. Murtry,” he said, speaking swiftly, as if anxious -to break the news as quickly as possible, “there ain’t a single -drop of engine oil. I spoke to Sam about it last night after -we’d loaded the other stuff aboard, an’ he said there was plenty -of oil here. But I just looked an’ there’s nothin’ but gasoline. -There’s more gasoline than we need, but there -ain’t a drop of——”</p> - -<p>“You idiot!” Murtry exclaimed. “Chase -right up to camp an’ get some out of the cache an’ -hurry!”</p> - -<p>Murtry’s man leaped ashore, but stood -hesitantly, shifting his feet as if in a quandary.</p> - -<p>“Hurry! I don’t want to wait here all -day!”</p> - -<p>“I’ll go look again, but I looked last -evenin’ an’ there wasn’t any there. At least I didn’t see it. -That’s why Sam was so sure there was plenty on the -boat.”</p> - -<p>“Of course it’s there. If you don’t find -it in the cache, look in the tool shed.”</p> - -<p>At this the -man shuffled off. Young Benton was much pleased at Murtry’s -unexpected delay, but he was somewhat nettled at the manner in -which he had been ignored. He decided to try again, and this -time he would do his utmost to make Murtry answer -him.</p> - -<p>“I suppose you didn’t hear me a bit ago,” -he began, “but——”</p> - -<p>“I heard you the first time,” Murtry -interrupted with an oath. “Now shut your yap an’ get -out!”</p> - -<p>Benton did not move. Seeing this, -Murtry’s great hamlike hands twisted about convulsively; his -lips drew back against his uneven teeth, and with an enraged -snarl he quickly rushed at the youth.</p> - -<p>“I’ll show you if you move or not!” he -shouted. “Once I get a hold of you, I’ll——”</p> - -<p>Murtry suddenly brought up with a sharp -exclamation. Ten feet from Benton, he had stopped with an -expression of bewilderment on his broad face. He was gazing like -a man fascinated into the barrel of an automatic.</p> - -<p>“I came ready for you,” said young Benton -coolly. “I’m not on your claim, and I don’t see you or -anybody else throwing me off of government land. And now, -you can at least listen to what I have to say, even if you don’t -care to——”</p> - -<p>“I’ll listen, you young pup,” Murtry -said, “but there’s a day comin’. You’ll wake up some day an’ -learn that what I say goes in this neck of the -woods.”</p> - -<p>Murtry advanced a step as he said this. -“And you,” said Benton as he menaced Murtry with his weapon, -“may <i>never</i> wake up, if you come another step in this direction. There, -that’s better,” he went on as Murtry retreated a step. “From -what I’ve been told, Murtry, you’re a mighty rich man. It won’t -bother you in the least to sell—or give me, for -that matter—some of your water. You’ve got your pile made. Now -be decent and give me a chance to get out of this country with a -little money for all the hardship I’ve gone through. Will you -listen to a sensible proposition?”</p> - -<p>“Rave on,” said Murtry sullenly. -“You’ve got me dead to rights. Talk away if it does you any -good, but you’ll get nothin’ out of me.”</p> - -<p>“I’ll give you a third of all the -money I take out,” said Benton, speaking slowly and distinctly. -“If you’ll give me the water to work the ground. Is it a -go?”</p> - -<p>Murtry opened his lips as if he intended -to reply; then closed them tightly. A minute passed and he -seemed to reconsider. “You might as well trot along,” he said -contemptuously. “Use your brains. Why <i>would</i> I take a third? -If there’s any money there, I can have it all after you starve -out; an’ if there ain’t anything there, what’s the idee of my -takin’ a third!”</p> - -<p>Benton said nothing more. Argument seemed -such a futile thing, so far as Murtry was concerned. Five -minutes passed and Murtry’s man appeared empty handed. His -manner was apologetic.</p> - -<p>“It ain’t there,” he said, whining. “An’ -there ain’t any on the boat. Sam or some of the other boys -must’ve used it all up last fall before the boat was laid up. I -don’t know what to do unless I mush up there an’ have the boys -come down in a boat or on a raft.”</p> - -<p>For almost a minute, Murtry raved like a -maniac. “An’ ev’ry day that my men stay up there, it’s costin’ -me a hunderd an’ sixty-five dollars.” He groaned. “Fifteen men -at ten a day an’ my foreman at fifteen a day. That’s what comes -of puttin’ a man like you in charge of my boat. Say, how long do -you think it’d take you to mush up there?”</p> - -<p>“A hunderd an’ fifty miles is a good -ways—goin’ through the brush like I’ll have to do,” the man -said. “I’ll do my best though to make it in ten -days.”</p> - -<p>“Sixteen hunderd an’ sixty-five -dollars!” Again Murtry groaned. “An’ maybe a whole lot more—if -you <i>don’t</i> make it in ten days. Well, what are you standin’ -there for? Get a move on!”</p> - -<p>“Wait just a minute, Mr. Murtry. I’ve -just thought about somethin’ that may save you a whole lot of -money, an’ save me that long trip upriver on foot. An old-timer -over on Penny Ante Crick has been tellin’ all around that this -young Benton sledded in nearly five gallons of oil last winter. -He was laughin’ about him usin’ it to grease his sled runners, -an’ he’s got upward of four gallons of it left. Now, if you -could buy it off him——”</p> - -<p>“Why, of course,” Murtry interrupted -briskly. “I heard about it a month ago. Just forgot it.” He -turned to Benton. “How much do you want for that oil?” he asked -in a pleasant voice.</p> - -<p>Young Benton was thinking fast. He, too, -had forgotten all about the oil that he had bought to make -slippin’ easy. He had considered the stuff worthless, but -now——</p> - -<p>“I’ll tell you, Mr. Murtry,” he said -thoughtfully, “I had a lot of work sledding that oil in here -last winter. I really hadn’t thought about selling it, but since -you need it, and I don’t, I’ll let you have it.”</p> - -<p>“You mean for nothin’?” Murtry asked incredulously.</p> - -<p>“Of course not. I mean for a fair price.”</p> - -<p>Murtry became suspicious. “What do you -call a fair price?” he countered. “It’s worth nothin’ whatever -to you, an’ I’ll give you—let’s see, I’ll give you two dollars -a gallon for it an’ allow you a dollar a pound for freightin’ -it into the country. Fair enough, ain’t it?”</p> - -<p>Benton grinned. “That’s one way of -looking at it,” he said amiably, “but I really can’t think of -letting it go for what you offer. Two dollars a gallon is more -than the oil is worth, but—the freighting the stuff into this -country. Man, that was the hardest work I ever did in my -life!”</p> - -<p>“I get you.” Murtry spoke thickly. -“You’ve got me where the wool’s short an’ you aim to gouge -me. All right—tell you what I’ll do—I’ll give you a hundred -dollars cash on the nail. How ’bout it?”</p> - -<p>“That <i>would</i> be gouging, as -you call it.” Benton seemed to be considering the matter. “No,” -he said at last, “I can’t take that much money. Four -gallons of oil isn’t worth a hundred dollars.”</p> - -<p>“Say, what in thunder are you drivin’ -at?” Murtry cried angrily. “Are you tryin’ to kid -somebody?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all. You’ve made your offer, -and now I’ll make mine.” Benton spoke slowly and distinctly. “As -you said a moment ago, that oil is really worth nothing at all -to me, so I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll just give you the -oil, provided that you’ll give me something that’s worth nothing -whatever to you. In case you don’t know, I mean a sluice head of -water from Caribou Creek. Are you on?”</p> - -<p>Murtry was thinking hard. There was not -one chance in a thousand of this confident youngster finding -gold on that little dry gulch. There was water to spare, lots of -it going to waste, but oil—there was only four gallons of -lubricating oil in the country! With a scowl, Murtry nodded his -head in the affirmative.</p> - - -<p class='sb'>It was a month later before the old-timer -visited young Benton on his dry gulch. Fully a half dozen men -were bustling about on the claim. Benton himself was closely -watching two men who were holding the nozzle of a pressure hose -trained against a bank of gravel. The old-timer stood aghast -until Benton came over to greet him.</p> - -<p>“Well, how in the name of Sam Hill,” -said the old man, “did you ever make a deal with Joe Murtry -to get this water!”</p> - -<p>For reply Benton fished a bit of paper -from his pocket, and passed it over. “Read it,” he said with a -grin.</p> - -<p>The old-timer slowly spelled out the -brief document.</p> - -<blockquote> -<p>In consideration of four gallons of -engine oil, I hereby agree to sell, assign, and transfer to -Harris Benton, a full sluice head of water to be taken from the -waters of Caribou Creek, and I agree to allow him or his agents -to go on my claim or claims to dig the necessary ditch to carry -said water.</p> -<p style="font-variant:small-caps; text-align:right;">Joe Murtry.</p> -</blockquote> - -<p>“You’re the first man that ever got the -best of Joe Murtry,” gasped the old-timer. “How in thunder did -you do it?”</p> - -<p>Benton explained.</p> - -<p>“And now,” he went on, “I’ve got -some good miners working for me, but—you’re an old-timer—do -they seem to be working the ground all right?”</p> - -<p>“Listen, son,” said the old-timer solemnly. “You don’t need -the advice of an old-timer.”</p> - -<div class="tn"> - <p>Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in - the June 5, 1926 issue of <i>Western Story</i> magazine.</p> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREENER THAN SPRUCE ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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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