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diff --git a/78180-0.txt b/78180-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb73757 --- /dev/null +++ b/78180-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,608 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78180 *** + + + GOLD + + By Burt Leslie + + +For more than fifteen years the Elkhorn mine yielded a steady output +of low grade gold ore sufficient to make “Hard” Sturdivant one of the +richest operators in the State of Colorado. Then late one afternoon +the day shift on the fifth level, five hundred feet below the surface +of the earth, set an unusually heavy blast. It splintered a three-foot +plate of blue quartz, tore holes in seven feet of talc, and when the +men came back into the drift they faced the breast of a tunnel that +gleamed and sparkled with pure gold. + +The day shift stared aghast. The foreman swore. Then, suddenly a miner +laughed. + +“That’s hot,” he said. “Look at it--and that gold ain’t on Elkhorn +property at all. We’ve reached the boundary. That fortune ain’t Hard +Sturdivant’s, it’s Clark Henderson’s.” + +There was a moment of impressive silence. The foreman leaned against the +drift wall. + +“It’s true,” he said in hushed tones, “and old Hard hates them +Hendersons worse than the devil hates good holy water.” + +The foreman strode to the main shaft and yanked the bell rope signaling +for the mine superintendent. Gaffney came down on the next cage. + +“See here,” the superintendent said a bit unsteadily, “we can’t let +this be known, men. I’ll have to swear you all to secrecy until I +notify Sturdivant. He’s down at Denver.” + +One of the miners spat reflectively. “Gaffney,” he said, “we all know +Sturdivant’s rock-hard and a mean-bitten devil. He’s been a bully and +a thief as long as he’s mined these mountains. Clark Henderson’s a +good kid. He’s decent and he’s hard up. Surest thing you know, old +Sturdivant’ll try to pull a dirty one on that kid same as he ruined +the kid’s dad. I say, we ought to tell Clark Henderson.” + +Gaffney looked them over. “We’ve got to notify Hard first,” he declared +at last. “That’s just plain honesty. We work for him and this is still a +few feet his side of the property line.” + +“Maybe,” the foreman muttered. “Maybe, a foot or two.” + +Gaffney said: “Clark Henderson’s not in the camp. His mine’s not +operating. He’s down at Colorado Springs. I want your promise to keep +this strike a secret until Sturdivant gets up here.” + +But news of such a strike is hard to keep. Gold that lies open to men’s +eyes has its peculiar power. Late in the night a miner from the fourth +level went down by ladder to the fifth to swap a moment’s gossip with +his friends. The drift was empty, and the man stood unobserved, staring, +mouth open, at the millions gleaming yellow and flashing back the light +of the oil lamp hanging to his hat. + +By morning the story was whispered everywhere throughout the mine. +Men at the boarding house across the hollow heard about the rich gold +strike, and they waited eagerly to go to work. + +Among them was Steve Conley. Steve was engineer on the night shift, and, +though nobody knew it, he was a close friend of young Clark Henderson’s. +He phoned to Clark at once. Young Henderson was in the camp three hours +before Sturdivant. He was a tall, broad-shouldered mountaineer with +steel-blue eyes and a fighter’s square, strong chin. + +Steve Conley met him. Steve was short and stocky with swarthy features +and black hair. He was also born to fight a good fight. + +“You’re rich,” Steve told Clark excitedly--“richer than hell’s soup, +man.” + +Clark eyed the engineer coolly. “Thanks for the fairy story,” he +drawled. “I own a dud mine that dad left me and I got lots of debts.” + +“Yeah?” Steve triumphed. “Well you listen....” And he told the story of +the strike. + +Clark’s eyes took on a keen, clear glow. “Gosh,” he said ineffectually, +“dad died busted with that damned hole that never paid. And to think +old Sturdivant found the stuff for me. Say, he’ll be wilder than a +prospector’s burro.” + +“He’s not here yet,” Steve said. “We’d better get things going before he +shows up. Did you get hold of some cash as I told you to do?” + +“I did,” Clark answered grimly. “All I could beg, borrow and steal from +creditors. At that, it’s a scant two thousand.” + +“Holy mackerel,” Steve cried, “and you call yourself poor, buddy!” + +Clark looked at his watch. “Sturdivant’ll be coming up from Denver,” he +reflected. “That means he won’t make the camp for at least three hours. +I’d better tell you how things stand in this here proposition. It about +looks as though the fortune old Hard blasted out for me would be his +anyhow in spite of everything.” + +“Does it?” Steve wanted to know grimly. “How come that?” + +Clark told him. + + * * * * * + +The Henderson mine was called the Summit. Ten years earlier Clark’s +father had mortgaged it in order to get funds with which to sink the +mine shaft still deeper. He had believed there was gold there, but +he had never found it. Sturdivant had been his enemy from the old +wild days when they had fought each other openly for mine rights. +The mortgages on the Summit were to run ten years. + +“They’ve got a month to go,” Clark finished, “and I learned today that +Sturdivant just bought them from their original owners. In just a month +he’ll own the Summit legally.” + +“I know. But Jumpin’ Jude,” Steve argued, “one shipment of yellow stuff +like that we opened down at level five and you can buy the Elkhorn, let +alone pay mortgages on the old Henderson shaft!” + +“The point is,” Clark said, “how to get the shipment?” + +The Summit engines, boilers and other machinery had stood idle so long +that the task of reopening the old Henderson mine was a stupendous one. +To get it into operation would take days of twenty-four hour driving, +working three full shifts of men. The knowledge that in one month old +Hard would foreclose staggered them. + +“Anyhow,” Clark said, “if Hard Sturdivant gets that gold, he’ll find it +the most expensive wealth he ever dug out of Globe Mountain. We start +our little war today.” + +“I’m your army,” Steve declared. + +“In half an hour,” Clark said, “the four o’clock shift will go on at +the Elkhorn. How many of those muckers do you think we could hire to +walk out this afternoon and open work for me?” + +“Steal Sturdivant’s men?” Steve grinned delightedly. “Why say, they +hate his guts. What’s more, they all saw that gold on the fifth. They +know you can deliver when you promise double pay. Most of ’em’d be +glad to see old Hard get walloped.” + +“Then you go get ’em,” Clark said. “I’ll meet them at the Summit fast as +you send ’em up the hill.” + +“And, boy, will old Hard roar his powder down?” Steve laughed, and then +left young Henderson, swinging across the hollow toward the boarding +house. + + * * * * * + +Clark Henderson climbed the shoulder of Globe Mountain by the old road +his father had helped grade so long ago. Up there, the Summit shaft +house rose bleak and desolate against the sky. Could he win? + +The shaft house was unlocked. Clark stood a moment in the door. The +place was damp and cold. Rust coated the rails on the old tramway +leading from the shaft out to the waste dump. To his left were the +steep stairs that led up to the engine room. Would the machinery +work at all? From the foot of those stairs a door opened at the side +into the boiler room where stood the boilers, pumps, air compressor +and where the drills were stored. + +Clark went in to look at the boilers. Steam would be the first +essential. The coal bins stood empty. + +He was still pondering the situation when the first of Steve’s recruits +arrived. They were careless of the consequences in this mad plan which +they were entering. For them the game lay in sharing the struggle with +young Henderson, whom they all liked. They had known his father. + +“Looks pretty dead here,” Clark greeted them. “Reckon we can snap the +old hole back to life?” + +“Maybe,” one said. “If you’d a-seen that gold, young feller, you’d know +she was alive all right.” + +“First off, we’ll need coal,” Clark observed, “and far as I know, the +closest supply is down at the Elkhorn. What say?” + +“Can we get away with that coal?” The man who spoke was laughing openly. +“Give me a sack and a drill to use in case that red-faced fireman down +there needs a wrap.” + +Ore sacks were found. Old buckets were discovered. These were mine +buckets, two feet in diameter and as many deep. + +“Work fast,” Clark said. “This is a case where time buys bacon.” + + * * * * * + +Sturdivant reached the Elkhorn mine soon after dark. He found it +practically deserted. Up where the Summit had stood dark, silent, +cold, so many years, he saw the gleam of many lights, the red flare +of boilers under heavy fires, and his ear caught the steady throb of +pumps, the sharp metallic ring of hammer upon steel where drills were +being sharpened at the forges. + +Sturdivant’s heavy jowls shook with rage. His narrow, mean eyes +glittered. He drove his horse straight up the mountainside. At the +Summit’s door he halted. + +The great pipe, leading from the mine to a deep ditch outside, belched +a stream of heavy yellow water. Up in the engine room, Steve Conley and +a dozen men were overhauling the big double-drum hoist. The cables were +badly rusted. Afraid to trust them, Steve had dispatched two men across +Globe Mountain to comb the other mines for extra cable. Opposite the +door in which Hard Sturdivant stood glaring, men were rigging up the +cages. Tram cars were being put in shape. The forges glowed, and hammer +clanged on anvil. Miners who had not sharpened steel for years were +lustily turned blacksmiths. Clark Henderson met old Hard cheerfully. + +“Excuse us, Hard,” he said, “if we don’t stop to serve tea, won’t you? +Time’s precious just now.” + +“You’re an impudent young thief,” Hard roared, and miners near enough +to hear loitered with covert grins to listen in. “You stole my men. You +stole my coal. I’ll make you pay for this.” + +“I’m willing to pay for the coal,” Clark said. “I expect to pay the +men.” He took a roll of bills from his pocket. “Coal at the market +price plus haulage----” + +Sturdivant choked and stamped his feet. “Keep your filthy money,” he +thundered, “I’ll sell you nothing!” + +“I think,” Clark murmured, “a debt is cancelled if the creditor refuses +payment. I have the coal.” + +“You’ll wish it was hell’s coal, and you was warmin’ in it before I get +through with you,” old Hard bellowed. + +“You know,” Clark said, “I seem to remember hearing my dad tell how you +once confiscated coal and tools that belonged to the Hendersons. Thanks +for the example, Hard.” + +Hard Sturdivant turned away, only to whirl and snap, “The boarding +house’ll be closed tonight.” + +“I guess that’ll be just fine,” Clark told him. “I’ll have tents here +and up by morning and I’ve hired Mrs. Flaven to handle my commissary +tent. She’ll be out of your cookhouse before daylight.” + +Sturdivant went back to his horse, swung to his saddle and, giving the +animal a vicious cut with his rawhide, galloped away. + +The main camp was over the brow of Globe Mountain, more than five miles +from the mines. He wanted to reach the telegraph office, and he hated +the distance that hindered him. + + * * * * * + +Two days were required to get the Summit mine cleared for real +operations. They were days of incessant labor, and the men worked +with a will that spoke more eloquently than their words, if not of +their liking for Clark Henderson, certainly of their long dislike for +old Hard Sturdivant. Those two days ate up money. On the third day, +Clark found that over fifteen hundred of his nineteen hundred dollars +was gone. He called the men together. + +“I told you at the start that I was hard up,” he said. “It’s taken most +of my ready cash to get us going. You know the layout underground. If +we make it, we’re all set. If we don’t,” he paused, “I’ll likely owe +you wages. I can keep you fed, though, until we have a try. If any of +you feel that the chances are too great against us, I won’t blame him +for pulling out; it’s a man’s place to look out for himself.” + +The men gave him a cheer. In a way, they were out on a lark and they +were enjoying it. After all, whatever the niceties of legal justice +might be in this matter, the men felt that Clark was justified. All +of them knew the story of how old Hard Sturdivant had fought his +father, old man Henderson, to the break years earlier. All of them +knew that Hard would never have let the news of the strike out until +he owned the Summit. That was good business, maybe, but it wasn’t to +their liking. They went to work to cut a drift from the bottom of +the Summit through toward the gold strike. + +Meanwhile, Hard Sturdivant was getting his forces moving. Within those +two days he had gathered from the camp enough men to resume operations +in the Elkhorn. Most of these were honest miners and Hard set them at +honest mining. + +None of them were asked to work on the fifth level. Three days later, +however, fifty hard-featured city gunmen reached the camp and were +conveyed at once to the Elkhorn. Hard quartered them in the boarding +house. They were to high-grade the fifth level ore and haul it under +guard to the smelters. + +Clark Henderson called a meeting of his men. + +“The presence of gangsters means that Sturdivant wants open fighting, +men,” he said. “Gang warfare has always been Hard’s method of bullying +his way in these mountains. It was with a gang of cutthroats that he +finally broke my father. I don’t intend to let him break me that way, +but if we can avoid it, I don’t want open war. That means hardship and +bloodshed, and bitter memories. We’ve got some three weeks yet in which +to win. I’m going to leave the mine to you. I’ll go to Colorado Springs +and if need be, to Denver. I’ll see the banks and tell them how things +are up here. If I can raise enough to pay the mortgages before they’re +due, we’ll settle all this peacefully. It’s the best way; and I believe +that I can get the money now. I’ve called you because I want your full +support in everything that’s done. Does this plan suit you all?” + +Among the miners were a few old heads who could remember when Clark’s +father failed because of his unwillingness to take the right into his +hands and settle it with violence. Did Clark imagine that Hard +Sturdivant would leave a loophole for a peaceful triumph of his enemy? +Yet, Clark was right. They knew this, and they wished him well. It was +agreed that they would drive the tunnels, and that he did well to try +to arrange a loan with the big bankers. Clark Henderson left the camp +that night. + +He was gone for eighteen days. During that trying interval he visited +the mining bankers in three cities, and from them he learned how +thoroughly Hard Sturdivant made war. + +The Elkhorn was incorporated, and every banker of note held stock in +it. Hard’s lawyers had been prompt to notify them that early the next +month this stock would treble and quadruple in value. The Elkhorn, they +were made to understand, had struck the richest vein discovered in the +State for years. Its future only waited the fusion with the adjoining +Summit property, and this would come when the mortgages in Sturdivant’s +possession fell due. + +Clark Henderson was received courteously, listened to with interest--and +loans were declined him with regret. He returned to the Summit camp +desperate, to face a struggle that was marked by a long sequence of +accident and devilish disaster. + +Two wagons hauling coal to the Summit mine unaccountably lost a rear +wheel, and tons of coal were wasted. The Summit powder house, stocked +with half a ton of dynamite, was blown up in the night. + +Steve Conley, the engineer, reported these and other troubles. + +“We’ve got a traitor among us, Clark, or a hireling of Sturdivant’s. +Twice our pumps have been jammed and wasted a day for us each time. The +air compressor was tampered with and we had to miss a shift before we +could get it pumping air into the mine again.” His face was set. His +eyes burned with repressed anger. + +“Well, Steve, I failed completely. How about the tunnel? Will we make +it?” + +Steve did not answer him at once. The silence was more powerful than +words, however. At last he shook his head. + +“It’s hard quartz every foot of the way,” he said. “Working like a pack +of devils, we can’t cut through that fast enough.” + +Clark said, “We’ve got to. In just six days I have to get at least one +shipment of that gold down to the smelter.” + + * * * * * + +Two days later, in spite of careful guards, the Summit shaft house +burned. The only available water was that pumped from the mine, and +there was no adequate equipment to make use of it. The big frame +building had stood for years; dry, it burned like matchwood, and +Clark Henderson’s men stood helpless watching it. + +Clark drew Steve to one side. His face was white and set. + +“Steve,” he asked, “will the men follow me, no matter what I do?” + +“Most of them will,” Steve said, “the rest don’t count.” + +“Then tell them to gather at the mess tent an hour after midnight,” +Clark commanded. “We’ll get that shipment of gold out tonight. Have +teamsters, and wagons ready below the Elkhorn tram.” + +Promptly at a quarter after one o’clock a group of armed men made their +way down the hill from the Summit to the coal chutes of Sturdivant’s +mine, the Elkhorn, and stopped there, waiting for a signal. A similar +group, under Steve Conley’s guidance, crouched and waited for the same +signal below the northern windows to the engine room. Still a third +body of miners moved well around the hill and, creeping up past the +mine dump, stopped just outside the ore house doors. + +Clark Henderson led the largest body directly toward the Elkhorn’s wide +eastern shaft house doors. Inside, the tram man talked with half a dozen +gangsters who lounged against a work bench. To all appearances these men +were idling, but there was tension in their bearing. Hands hovered near +their guns. From time to time they glanced expectantly into the night +outside. Under the bluish-yellow light of the big oil lamps swinging +from the shaft house beams their faces showed taut, concentrated, +watchful. There were others who waited with the same strained caution in +the engine room, the boiler room, and down in the ore house. They were +expecting the attack. + +Clark gave a shrill short whistle. Followed by his miners, he dashed +upon the shaft house. + +Simultaneously guns spoke at every point where his men waited. The night +was shattered with the flash and roar. Down at the ore house three men +with double sledges battered the doors while others waited close behind, +guns ready. + +Into the boiler room, through the coal chutes, poured the men from +the Summit mine. They were received by Hard Sturdivant’s gunmen. +Steve Conley and his followers hurled themselves through the north +windows into the engine room. There was a fury of lead to greet them +from gangsters hidden back of the big hoists. + +Clark Henderson and his group were in the shaft house. A rain of bullets +poured from their six-guns as they charged. Sturdivant’s gangsters +answered with terrific fire. + +And next instant the area around the yawning shaft was dense with +smoke and full of fighting men. Ahead of him, across the open mine, +Clark Henderson saw two gunmen. His revolver spoke. One of the two +plunged forward. His body toppled and went down the shaft. + +Bullets tore at Clark’s coat. His hat was riddled. He fired point-blank +at the man opposite. The heavy lead took the gangster full in the +stomach. He crumpled, coughing, by the shaft. From the left flank, where +the tram doors were open, other Sturdivant gunmen poured a volley upon +the attacking miners. Clark whirled to face their fire. A bullet ripped +his sleeve and burned into his arm. + +Around young Henderson men surged, fighting hand to hand now. A burly +gangster rushed him. Braced for the shock, Clark hurled his empty gun +in the man’s face. They met and locked. The gangster tried to lift +him from his feet. They surged toward the open shaft. Men shouted and +a mass of heaving striking bodies crashed into them. + +Clark gripped the gangster’s throat, drove a knee upward, into the man’s +stomach. They fell together. + +Bullets tore the floor around them. The din was deafening. Smoke +thickened the damp air. Someone yelled. Clark Henderson struck his +man a short, straight blow that crashed the gangster’s head against +the steel tram track. The body under Clark grew limp. He tore free +and sprang to his feet. + +From the windows separating shaft and engine room came Steve Conley’s +exultant shout. “We’ve got the engines, Clark! I’m pulling up the cages. +Get ready with your men to go below!” + +Clark leaped to the shaft and waved his hat. Twenty of his picked crew +gathered with him. + + * * * * * + +Around them there was still mass fighting. In the boiler room and down +in the ore house the battle raged without pause, but the Summit men +were everywhere in the majority and Clark Henderson had no misgivings +as to the outcome. Meanwhile, down on the fifth level, Hard Sturdivant +waited grimly with a picked group of gangsters. The cages whirled to +the mine mouth and stopped. Clark and his followers leaped aboard. A +signal flashed to Steve. The cages plunged abruptly downward. + +The speed of that descent into the earth was like the fall of a plummet. +The lamps on the men’s hats flared upward, the flames wavering, +sputtering and all but dying. Then suddenly, the cages stopped. The men +stepped into the drift and halted. + +“Lights out,” Clark ordered. There was a faint sound as the miners’ +lamps were snuffed out. Pitch darkness swooped upon them. + +“Wait here,” Clark said. Then feeling with his foot for the narrow tram +track, he followed it back through the drift. + +Three quarters of the way along the drift there was a sump. This deep +pit reached from wall to wall and was crossed by a tram bridge. It was +designed to catch the water perpetually draining from the tunnel. + +Clark Henderson moved ahead until he felt himself upon the bridge. +There, he stood still to listen. There was no sound. No lights gleamed +in the drift ahead. + +“Listen, Sturdivant,” Clark called, “we’ve got you like rats in a trap. +Will you surrender or must we blast you out?” + +The roar of twenty guns tore the thick silence. The air was filled with +smoke. Out of the darkness came a rain of lead. Bullets spattered around +Clark Henderson, tore splinters from the supporting beams to right and +left, chipped bits of rock from the drift overhead. A single volley set +the mine alive with heavy echoes. Clark waited till the silence came. + +Still no lights showed. Again, no sound was audible. Were the men there +with Sturdivant waiting? Were they advancing? + +In spite of the air pumps the tunnel was stifling hot and thick with +foul air. + +Clark moved a few steps forward, his hands out in the Stygian black. +Lungs ached. Eyes burned. Ears strained. + +Halfway across the bridge he halted. His fingers touched some object. +Hands seized him. He gripped the unseen enemy. The two men stood, +locked, motionless, upon a bridge not more than two feet wide. Then, +swiftly, with simultaneous release of pent-up energy both men strained. +They bent and swayed together. + +Clark Henderson knew that he was fighting for his life, intuition told +him the man he was struggling with was Hard Sturdivant. One slip, one +false step, now, and he would plunge into that rock hole beneath, a +well of heavy yellow water from which no living man could ever climb. + +Clark could see nothing. His arms were locked about the body of his +antagonist. Arms were locked about his waist. The two men strained and +swayed. Their breathing was the only sound. This side, then that, they +bent at the waist, feet gripping the narrow bridge beneath. + +Clark threw his full weight forward. His right hand felt its steel-like +way toward the unseen enemy’s throat, tense against his shoulder. + +The other man drove a fist into Clark’s stomach. They parted slightly, +then gripped again. This time, Clark bent low. His arms caught the thick +limbs of Hard Sturdivant above the knees. He heaved up sharply. The man +doubled, but his arms were fast around Clark. Together they crashed full +length on the bridge. + +In the swift twist of straining bodies there in the pitch black, each +man felt for a sure hold. Together they writhed sideways. + +Their heads were over the bridge now. With one hand Clark gripped the +rail. With his knee he pushed against his enemy. But Sturdivant’s +grip held. Then both men slipped, swung over the bridge side and hung +there. + + * * * * * + +Clark was suspending himself by one hand. Hard Sturdivant was hanging +to him. As Clark reached with the other hand to grip the rail, Hard +made a heaving effort to pull himself up by Clark’s body. The strain +was terrible. They swung and thrashed the thick air. + +Above them, at either end of the sump, men gathered, listening. But the +fighters had no breath to shout. + +Using Clark’s body, Hard Sturdivant was pulling himself up to safety. + +Clark felt beneath the bridge with his feet, searching for a crossbeam +of the supporting truss. He found it. His foot lodged in the angle made +by two beams. With this to help sustain his weight he let go of the +rail with one hand, struck fiercely at Hard’s face, seized the throat +of the Elkhorn’s owner and tore downward with all the strength he could +command. + +Hard Sturdivant choked and his hands gave. He uttered a shrill gasp; +then swung out, and down into the yawning black pit below. + +Men of both sides heard the yell; they swore with the tension of +uncertainty. + +Clark Henderson drew himself to the bridge. He was gasping for air and +his arms ached, but he could not stop now. If either side made the +mistake of flashing a single torch, there would be a hell of gunfire. + +“Hard Sturdivant is dead,” Clark choked, still prostrate on the bridge. +“For God’s sake, don’t you men go on murdering each other.” + +There was a moment of awed silence. Clark raised himself and faced the +gunmen. + +“Listen, my men have dynamite,” he added. “One stick thrown into this +drift will bury you all under tons of rock. Hard’s dead. What have you +to gain now?” + +There was a pause. The silence lay like lead upon them all. The heat was +burning their fevered skins. + +“All right,” a thick voice spoke from the drift head, “we won’t fire. +Give us light.” + +“Light!” Clark ordered, and a score of matches flickered. A score of +lamps were lit. The groups at either end of the sump blinked like men +suddenly shocked awake. They stared at Clark, then drew to the sump +and looked down. + +The yellow surface of that mud-thick water was like a hideous fester. + +“Well,” one of Hard Sturdivant’s gunmen spoke, “I guess you win, young +fella. We told old Hard not to tackle you that way, but he’d settled +other scores like that over a sump. He ’lowed he could again. Here’s to +you!” + +“All right, men,” Clark said slowly, “we’ll get above ground now. We +need fresh air.” + +They moved to the two cages silently. Clark signaled. And as the cages +started upward he spoke to himself. + +“Well, dad--I guess we’ll mine Globe Mountain after all. Too bad we +can’t be doing it together.” + +The cages broke into the open air. Men stared to see who would step +out of them and who be carried. The story was told swiftly. A silence +followed, then Steve Conley spoke. + +“Well, Clark,” he said, “you done a good job. Let’s get to minin’ gold.” + +The miners burst into a cheer. + +“We have to,” Clark said grinning; “I got a lot of bills to pay. Let’s +dig!” + + +[Transcriber’s note: This story appeared in the September 10, 1930 +issue of _Short Stories_ magazine.] + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78180 *** |