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diff --git a/30572-8.txt b/30572-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b9cc1d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/30572-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7261 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Silver and Gold, by Dane Coolidge + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Silver and Gold + A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp + + +Author: Dane Coolidge + + + +Release Date: December 2, 2009 [eBook #30572] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SILVER AND GOLD*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) + + + +SILVER AND GOLD + + * * * * * + +BY THE SAME AUTHOR + +THE FIGHTING FOOL: + +A Tale of the Western Frontier + +Cloth, 12mo. with a wrapper drawn by Edward Borein + +$1.75 net + +E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY + +NEW YORK + + * * * * * + + +SILVER AND GOLD + +A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp + +by + +DANE COOLIDGE + +Author of "The Fighting Fool" Etc. + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + +"Gold is where you find it, and Silver in high places." + --_Miners' Saying_. + + +New York +E. P. Dutton & Company +681 Fifth Avenue + +Copyright, 1919 +By E. P. Dutton & Company +All Rights Reserved + +Printed in the United States of America + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAPTER PAGE + I. The Ground-Hog 1 + II. Big Boy 7 + III. Hobo Stuff 16 + IV. Cash 23 + V. Mother Trigedgo 33 + VI. The Oraculum 42 + VII. The Eminent Buttinsky 53 + VIII. The Silver Treasure 61 + IX. Bible-Back Murray 72 + X. Signs and Omens 81 + XI. The Lady of the Sycamores 92 + XII. Steel on Steel 100 + XIII. Swede Luck 108 + XIV. The Strike 119 + XV. A Night for Love 128 + XVI. A Friend 138 + XVII. Broke 147 + XVIII. The Hand of Fate 154 + XIX. The Man-Killer 161 + XX. Jumpers--and Tenors 170 + XXI. Broke Again 180 + XXII. The Rock-Drilling Contest 189 + XXIII. The Heart of his Beloved 200 + XXIV. Colonel Dodge 210 + XXV. The Answer 219 + XXVI. The Course of the Law 231 + XXVII. Like a Hog on Ice 238 + XXVIII. Parole 245 + XXIX. The Interpretation Thereof 251 + + + + +SILVER AND GOLD + + + + +_THE PROPHECY_ + +"You will make a long journey to the West and there, within the +shadow of a Place of Death, you will find two treasures, one of Silver +and the other of Gold. Choose well between them and both shall be Yours, +but if you choose unwisely you will lose them Both and suffer a great +disgrace. You will fall in love with a beautiful woman who is an artist, +but beware how you reveal your affection or she will confer her hand +upon Another. Courage and constancy will attend you through life but in +the end will prove your undoing, for you will meet your death at the +hands of your Dearest Friend." + + + + +SILVER AND GOLD + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE GROUND-HOG + + +The day had dawned on the summit of Apache Leap and a golden eagle, +wheeling high above the crags, flashed back the fire of the sun from his +wings; but in the valley below where old Pinal lay sleeping the heat had +not begun. A cool wind drew down from the black mouth of Queen Creek +Canyon, stirring the listless leaves of the willows, and the shadow of +the great cliff fell like a soothing hand on the deserted town at its +base. In the brief freshness of the morning there was a smell of +flaunting green from the sycamores along the creek, and the tang of +greasewood from the ridges; and then, from the chimney of a massive +stone house, there came the odor of smoke. A coffee mill began to purr +from the kitchen behind and a voice shouted a summons to breakfast, but +the hobo miner who lay sprawling in his blankets did not answer the +peremptory call. He raised his great head, turned his pig eyes toward +the house, then covered his face from the flies. + +There was a clatter of dishes, a long interval of silence, and then the +sun like a flaming disc topped the mountain wall to the east. The square +adobe houses cast long black shadows across the whitened dust of the +street and as the man burrowed deeper to keep out the light the door of +the stone house slammed. The day seldom passed when Bunker Hill's wife +did not cook for three or four hoboes but when Old Bunk called a man in +to breakfast he expected him to come. He stood for a minute, tall and +rangy and grizzled, a desert squint in one eye; and then with a muttered +oath he strode across the street. + +"Hey!" he called prodding the blankets with his boot and the hobo came +alive with a jump. + +"You look out!" he snarled, bounding violently to his feet and dropping +back to a crouch; but when he met Bunker Hill's steely eyes he mumbled +something and lowered his hands. + +"All right, pardner," observed Hill, "I'll do all of that; but if you +figure on getting any breakfast you'd better come in and eat it." + +"Huh!" responded the hobo scowling and blinking at the sun and then +without a word he started for the house. He was a big, hulking man, with +arms like a bear and bulging, bench-like legs; but the expression on his +face above his enormous black mustache was that of a disgruntled +ground-hog. His nose was tipped up, his eyes were small and stubborn and +as he ate a hurried breakfast he glanced about uneasily as if fearful of +some trap; yet if Bunker Hill had any reservations about his guest he +did not abate his hospitality. The coffee was still hot, there was +plenty of everything and when the miner rose to go Old Bunk accompanied +him to the door. + +"Going to be hot," he observed as the heat struck through their clothes; +but the hobo omitted even a nod of assent in his haste to be off down +the trail. + +"Well, the dadblasted bum!" exclaimed Bunker in a rage as the miner +passed over the first hill and, stumping across the street, he rolled up +the tumbled blankets. "The dirty dog!" he grumbled vindictively, +hoisting the bed upon his shoulders; but as he started back to the house +he heard something drop from the roll. He paused and looked back and +there on the ground lay a wallet, stuffed with bills. It was the miner's +purse, which he had put under his pillow and forgotten in his sudden +departure. + +"O-ho!" observed Bunker as he picked it up. "O-ho, I thought you was +broke!" He opened the purse with great deliberation, laying bare a great +sheaf of bills, and as his wife and daughter came hurrying down the +steps he counted the hobo's hoard. + +"Over eight hundred dollars," he announced with ominous calm. "Some +roll, when a man is bumming his meals and can't even stop to say +thanks----" + +"He's coming back for it," broke in his wife anxiously. "And now, +Andrew, please don't----" + +"Never mind," returned her husband, slipping the wallet into his pocket, +and she sighed and folded her hands. The hobo was walking fast, coming +back down the hill, and when he saw Hill by the blankets he broke into a +ponderous trot. + +"Say," he called, "you didn't see a purse, did ye? I left one under my +blankets." + +"A purse!" exclaimed Bunker with exaggerated surprise. "Why I thought +you was broke--what business have _you_ got with a purse?" + +"Well, I had a few keep-sakes and----" + +"You're a liar!" rapped out Bunker and his sharp lower jaw suddenly +jutted out like a crag. "You're a liar," he repeated, as the hobo let it +pass, "you had eight hundred and twenty-five dollars." + +"Well, what's that to you?" retorted the miner defiantly. "It's mine, so +gimme it back!" + +"Oh, I don't know," drawled Bunker hauling the purse from his pocket and +looking over the bills, "I don't know whether I will or not. You came in +here last night and told me you were broke, but right here is where I +collect. It'll cost you five dollars for your supper and breakfast and +five dollars more for your bed--that's my regular price to transients." + +"No, you don't!" exclaimed the hobo, but as Bunker looked up he drew +back a step and waited. + +"That's ten dollars in all," continued Hill, extracting two bills from +the purse, "and next time you bum your breakfast I'd advise you to thank +the cook." + +"Hey, you give me that money!" burst out the miner hoarsely, holding out +a threatening hand, and Bunker Hill rose to his full height. He was six +feet two when he stooped. + +"W'y, sure," he said handing over the wallet; but as the miner turned to +go Hill jabbed him in the ribs with a pistol. "Just a moment, my +friend," he went on quietly, "I just want to tell you a few things. I've +been feeding men like you for fifteen years, right here in this old +town, and I've never turned one away yet; but you can tell any bo that +you meet on the trail that the road-sign for this burg is changed. I +used to be easy, but so help me Gawd, I'll never feed a hobo again. Here +my wife has been slaving over a red-hot stove cooking grub for you +hoboes for years and the first bum that forgets and leaves his purse has +eight hundred dollars--cash! Now you git, dad-burn ye, before I do the +world a favor and fill you full of lead!" He motioned him away with the +muzzle of his pistol while his wife laid a hand on his arm, and after +one look the hobo turned and loped over the top of the hill. + +"Now Andrew, please," expostulated Mrs. Hill, and, still breathing hard, +Old Bunk put up his gun and reached for a chew of tobacco. + +"Well, all right," he growled, "but you heard what I said--that's the +last doggoned hobo we feed." + +"Well--perhaps," she conceded, but Bunker Hill was roused by the memory +of years of ingratitude. + +"No 'perhaps' about it," he asserted firmly, "I'll run every last one of +them away. Do you think I'm going to work my head off for my family, +only to be et out of house and home? Do you think I'm going to have you +cooking meals for these miners when they're earning their five dollars a +day? Let 'em buy a lunch at the store!" + +"No, but Andrew," protested Mrs. Hill, who was a large, motherly soul +and not to be bowed down by work, "I'm sure that some of them are +worthy." + +"Yes, I know you are," he answered, smiling grimly, "that's what you +always say. But you hear me, now; I'm through. Don't you feed another +man." + +He turned to his daughter for support, but his bad luck had just begun. +Drusilla was shading her eyes from the sun and staring up the trail. + +"Oh, here comes another one," she cried in a hushed voice and pointed up +the creek. He stood at the mouth of the black-shadowed canyon where the +trail comes in from Globe--a young man with wind-blown hair, looking +doubtfully down at the town; but when he saw them he stepped boldly +forth and came plodding down the trail. + +"Oh, not this one!" pleaded Mrs. Hill when she saw his boyish face; but +Bunker Hill thrust out his jaw. + +"Every one of 'em," he muttered, "the whole works--all of 'em! You women +folks go into the house." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +BIG BOY + + +He was a big, fair-haired boy, blue-eyed and clean limbed, and as he +came down the trail there was a spring to his step that not even a limp +could obliterate; and at every stride the great muscles in his chest +played and rippled beneath his shirt. He was a fine figure of a man, +tall and straight as an Apollo, and yet he was a hobo. Never before had +Bunker Hill seen a better built man or one more open-faced and frank, +but he came down the trail with the familiar hobo-limp and Bunker set +his jaws and waited. It was such men as this, young and strong and full +of blood, who had kept him poor for years. Hobo miners, the most expert +of their craft, and begging their grub on the trail! + +"Good morning," nodded Hill and squinted down his eyes as the young man +boggled at his words. + +"Good morning," replied the hobo and then, after a pause, he +straightened up and came to the point. "What's the chance to get a +little something to eat?" he inquired with a twisted smile and Bunker +Hill sprang his bomb. + +"Danged poor," he returned, and as the hobo blinked he spoke his piece +with a rush. "I've got a store over there where you can buy what you +want; but I've quit, absolutely, feeding every hobo that comes by and +batters my door for grub. I'm an old man myself and you're young and +strong--why the hell don't you get out and work?" + +"Never you mind," answered the hobo, his eyes glowing angrily; and as +Old Bunk went on with his tirade the miner's lip curled with scorn. +"That's all right, old-timer," he broke in with cold politeness--"no +offense--don't let me deprive you. I don't make a practice of battering +on back doors. But, say, I'm looking for a fellow with a big, black +mustache--did you see him come by this way?" + +"Did I _see_ him?" yelled Hill flying into a fury, "well you're +danged whistling I did! He came in last night and bummed his supper--my +wife had to cook it special--and I gave him his bed and breakfast; and +this morning when he left he didn't even say: 'Thanks!' That's how +grateful these hoboes are! And when I went out to pick up his blankets a +thumping big purse dropped out!" + +"Holy Joe!" exclaimed the hobo looking up with sudden interest, "say, +how long ago did he leave?" + +"Not half an hour! No, not ten minutes ago--and if my wife hadn't been +there to hold me down I'd have run him till he dropped. And when I +opened that purse it was full of money--there was eight hundred and +twenty-five dollars--and him trying to tell me he was broke!" + +"That's him, all right," declared the hobo. "Well, so long; I'll be on +my way." + +He started off down the trail at a long, swinging stride, then turned +abruptly back. + +"I'll get a drink," he suggested, "if there's no objection. Don't charge +for your water, I reckon." + +It was all said politely and yet there was an edge to it which cut Old +Bunk to the quick. He, Bunker Hill, who had fed hoboes for years and had +never taken a cent, to be insulted like this by the first sturdy beggar +that he declined to serve with a meal! He reached for his gun, but just +at that moment his wife laid a hand on his arm. She had not been far +away, just up on the porch where she could watch what was going on, and +she turned to the hobo with a smile. + +"Mr. Hill is just angry," she explained good-naturedly, "on account of +that other man; but if you'll wait a few minutes I'll cook you some +breakfast and----" + +"Thank you, ma'am," returned the miner, taking off his hat civilly, +"I'll just take a drink and go." + +He hurried back to the well and, picking up the bucket, drank long and +deep of the water; then he threw away the rest and with practiced hands +drew up a fresh bucket from the depths. + +"You'd better fill a bottle," called Bunker Hill, whose anger was +beginning to evaporate, "it's sixteen miles to the next water." + +The hobo said nothing, nor did he fill a bottle, and as he came back +past them there was a set to his jaw that was eloquent of rage and +disdain. It was the custom of the country--of that great, desert country +where houses are days' journeys apart--to invite every stranger in; and +as Bunker Hill gazed after him he saw his good name held up to +execration and scorn. This boy was a Westerner, he could tell by his +looks and the way he saved on his words, perhaps he even lived in those +parts; and in a sudden vision Hill beheld him spreading the news as he +followed the long trail to the railroad. He would come dragging in to +Whitlow's Wells, the next station down the road, so weak he could hardly +walk and when they enquired into his famished condition he would unfold +some terrible tale. And the worst of it was that the boys would believe +it and repeat it to all who passed. Men would hear in distant cow camps, +far back in the Superstitions, that Old Bunk had driven a starving man +from his door and he had nearly perished on the desert. + +"Hey!" called Bunker Hill taking a step or two after him, "wait a +minute--I'll give you a lunch." + +"You can keep your lunch," said the man over his shoulder and strode +doggedly on up the hill. + +"Gimme something to take to him," rapped out Hill to his wife, but the +hobo's sharp ears had caught the words and he wheeled abruptly in his +tracks. + +"I wouldn't take your danged lunch if it was the last grub on earth," he +shouted in a towering rage; and while they stood gazing he turned his +back and passed on over the hill. + +"Let 'im go!" grumbled Bunker pacing up and down and avoiding his +helpmeet's eye, but at last he ripped out a smothered oath and racked +off down the street to his stable. This was an al fresco affair, +consisting of a big stone corral within the walls of what had once been +the dancehall, and as he saddled up his horse and rode out the narrow +gate he found his wife waiting with a lunch. + +"Don't crush the doughnuts," she murmured anxiously and patted his hand +approvingly. + +"All right," he said and, putting spurs to his horse, he galloped off +over the hill. + +The old town of Pinal lay on a bench above the creek bed, with high +cliffs to the east and north; but south and west the country fell off +rapidly in a series of rolling ridges. Over these the road to the +railroad climbed and dipped with wearisome regularity until at last it +dropped down into the creek-bed again and followed its dry, sandy +course. Not half an hour had passed from the time the second hobo left +till Old Bunk had started after him, yet so fast had he traveled that he +was almost to the creek bed before Bunker Hill caught sight of him. + +"Ay, Chihuahua!" he ejaculated in shrill surprise and reined in his +horse to gaze. The young hobo was running and, not far ahead, the Ground +Hog was fleeing before him. They ran through bushy gulches and over +cactus-crowned ridges where the sahuaros rose up like giant sentinels; +until at last, as he came to the sandy creek-bed, the black hobo stood +at bay. + +"They're fighting!" exclaimed Bunker with a joyous chuckle and rode down +the trail like the wind. + +After twenty wild years in Old Mexico, there were times when Bunker Hill +found Arizona a trifle tame; but here at last there was staged a combat +that promised to take a place in local history. When he rode up on the +fight the young miner and the Ground Hog were standing belt to belt, +exchanging blows with all their strength, and as the young man reeled +back from a right to the jaw the Ground Hog leapt in to finish him. + +"Here! None of that!" spoke up Bunker Hill menacing the black hobo with +his quirt; but the battered young Apollo waved him angrily aside and +flew at his opponent again. + +"I'll show you, you danged dog!" he cursed exultantly as the Ground Hog +went down before him, "I'll show you how to run out on me! Come on, you +big stiff, and if I don't make you holler quit you can have every dollar +you stole!" + +"Hey, what's the matter, Big Boy? What's going on here?" demanded Bunker +of the blond young giant. "I thought you fellers were pardners." + +"Pardners, hell!" spat Big Boy, whose mouth was beginning to bleed. "He +robbed me of all my money. We won eight hundred dollars in the drilling +contest at Globe and he collected the stakes and beat it!" + +"You're a liar!" retorted the Ground Hog standing sullenly on his guard, +and once more Big Boy went after him. They roughed it back and forth, +neither seeking to avoid the blows but swinging with all their might; +until at last the Ground Hog landed a mighty smash that knocked his +opponent to the ground. "Now lay there," he jeered, and, stepping over +to one side, he picked up a purse from the ground. + +It was the same bulging purse that he had forgotten that morning in his +hurry to get over the hill, and as Bunker Hill gazed at it two things +which had misled him became suddenly very plain. The day before had been +the Fourth of July, when the miners had their contests in Globe, and +these two powerful men were a team of double-jackers who had won the +first prize between them. Then the Ground Hog had stolen the total +proceeds, which accounted for his show of great wealth; and Big Boy, on +the other hand, being left without a cent, had been compelled to beg for +his breakfast. A wave of righteous anger rose up in Old Bunk's breast at +the monstrous injustice of it all and, whipping out his pistol, he threw +down on the Ground Hog and ordered him to put up his hands. + +"And now lay down that purse," he continued briefly, "before I shoot the +flat out of your eye." + +The hobo complied, but before he could retreat the young miner raised +himself up. + +"Say, you butt out of this!" he said to Bunker Hill, waggling his head +to shake off the blood. "I'll 'tend to this yap myself." + +He turned his gory front to the Ground Hog, who came eagerly back to the +fray; and once more like snarling animals they heaved and slugged and +grunted, until once more poor Big Boy went down. + +"I can whip him!" he panted rising up and clearing his eyes. "I could +clean him in a minute--only I'm starved." + +He staggered and the heart of Bunker Hill smote him when he remembered +how he had denied the man food. Yet he bored in resolutely, though his +blows were weak, and the Ground Hog's pig eyes gleamed. He abated his +own blows, standing with arms relaxed and waiting; and when he saw the +opening he struck. It was aimed at the jaw, a last, smashing hay-maker, +such a blow as would stagger an ox; but as it came past his guard the +young Apollo ducked, and then suddenly he struck from the hip. His whole +body was behind it, a sharp uppercut that caught the hurtling Ground Hog +on the chin; and as his head went back his body lurched and followed and +he landed in a heap in the dirt. + +"He's out!" shouted Bunker and Big Boy nodded grimly; but the Ground Hog +was pawing at the ground. He rose up, and fell, then rose up again; and +as they watched him half-pityingly he scrambled across the sand and made +a grab at the purse. + +"You stand back!" he blustered clutching the purse to his breast and +snapping open the blade of a huge jack-knife; but before Old Bunk could +intervene Big Boy had caught up a rock. + +"You drop that knife," he shouted fiercely, "or I'll bash out your +brains with this stone!" And as the Ground Hog gazed into his battle-mad +eyes he weakened and dropped the knife. "Now gimme that purse!" ordered +the masterful Big Boy and, cringing before the rock, the beaten Ground +Hog slammed it down on the ground with a curse. + +"I'll git you yet!" he burst out hoarsely as he shambled off down the +trail, "I'll learn you to git gay with me!" + +"You'll learn me nothing," returned the young miner contemptuously and +gathered up the spoils of battle. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HOBO STUFF + + +"Young man," began Bunker Hill after a long and painful silence in which +Big Boy completely ignored him, "I want to ask your pardon. And anything +I can do----" + +"I'm all right," cut in the hobo wiping the blood out of one eye and +feeling tenderly of a tooth, "and I don't want nothing to do with you." + +"Can't blame ye, can't blame ye," answered Old Bunk judicially. "I +certainly got you wrong. But as I was about to say, Mrs. Hill sent this +lunch and she said she hoped you'd accept it." + +He untied a sack from the back of his saddle, and as he caught the +fragrance of new-made doughnuts Big Boy's resolution failed. + +"All right," he said, making a grab for the lunch. "Much obliged!" And +he chucked him a bill. + +"Hey, what's this for?" exclaimed Bunker Hill grievously. "Didn't I ask +your pardon already." + +"Well, maybe you did," returned the hobo, "but after that call down you +gave me this morning I'm going to pay my way. It's too danged bad," he +murmured sarcastically as he opened up the lunch. "Sure hard luck to see +a good woman like that married to a pennypinching old walloper like +you." + +"Oh, I don't know," observed Old Bunk, gazing doubtfully at the bill, +but at last he put it in his pocket. + +"Yes, that's right," he agreed with an indulgent smile, "she's an awful +good cook--and an awful good woman, too. I'll just give her this money +to buy some little present--she told me I was wrong, all the time. But I +want to tell you, pardner--you can believe it or not--I never turned a +man down before." + +The hobo grunted and bit into a doughnut and Bunker Hill settled down +beside him. + +"Say," he began in an easy, conversational tone, "did you ever hear +about the hobo that was walking the streets in Globe? Well, he was broke +and up against it--hadn't et for two days and the rustling was awful +poor--but as he was walking along the street in front of that big +restaurant he saw a new meal ticket on the sidewalk. His luck had been +so bad he wouldn't even look at it but at last when he went by he took +another slant and see that it was good--there wasn't but one meal +punched out." + +"Aw, rats," scoffed Big Boy, "are you still telling that one? There was +a miner came by just as he reached down to grab it and punched out every +meal with his hob-nails." + +"That's the story," admitted Bunker, "but say, here's another one--did +you ever hear of the hobo Mark Twain? Well, he was a well-known +character in the old days around Globe--kinder drifted around from one +camp to the other and worked all his friends for a dollar. That was his +regular graft, he never asked for more and he never asked the same man +twice, but once every year he'd make the rounds and the old-timers kind +of put up with him. Great story-teller and all that and one day I was +sitting talking with him when a mining man came into the saloon. He +owned a mine, over around Mammoth somewhere, and he wanted a man to herd +it. It was seventy-five a month, with all expenses paid and all you had +to do was to stick around and keep some outsider from jumping in. Well, +when he asked for a man I saw right away it was just the place for old +Mark and I began to kind of poke him in the ribs, but when he didn't +answer I hollered to the mining man that I had just the feller he +wanted. Well, the mining man came over and put it up to Mark, and +everybody present began to boost. He was such an old bum that we wanted +to get rid of him and there wasn't a thing he could kick on. There was +plenty of grub, a nice house to live in and he didn't have to work a +tap; but in spite of all that, after he'd asked all kinds of questions, +Old Mark said he'd have to think it over. So he went over to the bar and +began to figger on some paper and at last he came back and said he was +sorry but he couldn't afford to take it. + +"'Well, why not?' we asks, because we knowed he was a bum, but he says: +'Well gentlemen, I'll tell ye, it's this way. I've got twelve hundred +friends in Arizona that's worth a dollar apiece a year; but this danged +job only pays seventy-five a month--I'd be losing three hundred a year." + +"Huh, huh," grunted Big Boy, picking up some folded tarts, "your mind +seems to be took up with hoboes." + +"Them's my wife's pay-streak biscuits," grinned Bunker Hill, "or at +least, that's what I call 'em. The bottom crust is the foot-wall, the +top is the hanging-wall, and the jelly in the middle is the pay streak." + +"Danged good!" pronounced the hobo licking the tips of his fingers and +Old Bunk tapped him on the knee. + +"Say," he said, "seeing the way you whipped that jasper puts me in mind +of a feller back in Texas. He was a big, two-fisted hombre, one of these +Texas bad-men that was always getting drunk and starting in to clean up +the town; and he had all the natives bluffed. Well, he was in the saloon +one day, telling how many men he'd killed, when a little guy dropped in +that had just come to town, and he seemed to take a great interest. He +kept edging up closer, sharpening the blade of his jack-knife on one of +these here little pocket whetstones, until finally he reached over and +cut a notch in the bad man's ear. + +"There," he says, "you're so doggoned bad--next time I see you I'll know +you!" + +"Yeh, some guy," observed Big Boy, "and I see you're some story-teller, +but what's all this got to do with me?" + +"Oh, nothing, nothing," answered Old Bunk hastily, "only I thought while +you were eating----" + +"Yes, you told me two stories about a couple of hoboes and then another +one about taming down a bad man; but I want to tell you right now, +before you go any further, that I'm no hobo nor bad man neither. I'm a +danged good miner--one of the best in Globe----" + +"Aw, no no!" burst out Bunker holding up both hands in protest, "you've +got me wrong entirely." + +"Well, your stories may be all right," responded Big Boy shortly, "but +they don't make a hit with me. And I've took about enough, for one day." + +He started back up the trail and Bunker Hill rode along behind him going +over the events of the day. Some distinctly evil genius seemed to have +taken possession of him from the moment he got out of bed and, try as he +would, it seemed absolutely impossible for him to square himself with +this Big Boy. + +"Hey, git on and ride," he shouted encouragingly, but Big Boy shook his +head. + +"Don't want to," he answered and once more Bunker Hill was left to +ponder his mistakes. The first, of course, was in taking too much for +granted when Big Boy had walked into town; and the second was in ever +refusing a hobo when he asked for something to eat. True it amounted in +the aggregate to a heart-breaking amount--almost enough to support his +family--but a man lost his luck when he turned a hobo down and Old Bunk +decided against it. Never again, he resolved, would he restrain his good +wife from following the dictates of her heart, and that meant that every +hobo that walked into town would get a square meal in his kitchen. Where +the cash was coming from to buy this expensive food and pay for the +freighting across the desert was a matter for the future to decide, but +as he dwelt on his problem a sudden ray of hope roused Bunker Hill from +his reverie. Speaking of money, the ex-hobo, walking along in front of +him, had over eight hundred dollars in his hip pocket--and he claimed to +be a miner! + +"Say!" began Bunker as they came in sight of town, "d'ye see those old +workings over there? That's the site of the celebrated Lost Burro +Mine--turned out over four millions in silver!" + +"Yeah, so I've heard," answered Big Boy wearily, "been closed down +though, for twenty years." + +"I'm the owner of that property," went on Bunker pompously. "Andrew Hill +is my name and I'd be glad to show you round." + +"Nope," said the future prospect, "I'm too danged tired. I'm going down +to the crick and rest." + +"Come up to the house," proposed Bunker Hill cordially, "and meet my +wife and family. I'm sure Mrs. Hill will be glad to see you back--she +was afraid that something might happen to you." + +The hobo glanced up with a swift, cynical smile and turned off down the +trail to the creek. + +"I see you've got your eye on my roll," he observed and Bunker Hill +shrugged regretfully. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +CASH + + +It was evident to Bunker Hill that no common measures would serve to +interest this young capitalist in his district; and yet there he was, a +big husky young miner, with eight hundred dollars in his pocket. That +eight hundred dollars, if wisely expended, might open up a bonanza in +Pinal; and in any case, if it was spent with him, it would help to pay +the freight. Old Bunk chopped open a bale of hay with an ax and gave his +horse a feed; and, after he had given his prospect time to rest, he +drifted off down towards the creek. + +The creek at Pinal was one of those vagrant Western streams that appear +and disappear at will. Where its course was sandy it sank from sight, +creeping along on the bed-rock below; but where as at Pinal the bed-rock +came to the surface, then the creek, perforce, rushed and gurgled. From +the dark and windy depths of Queen Creek Canyon it came rioting down +over the rocks and where the trail crossed there was a mighty sycamore +that almost dammed its course. With its gnarled and swollen roots half +dug from their crevices by the tumultuous violence of cloudbursts, it +clung like an octopus to a shattered reef of rocks and sucked up its +nourishment from the water. In the pool formed by its roots the minnows +leapt and darted, solemn bull-frogs stared forth from dark holes, and in +a natural seat against the huge tree trunk Big Boy sat cooling his feet. +He looked younger now, with the blood washed off his face and the hard +lines of hunger ironed out, and as Bunker Hill made some friendly crack +he showed his white teeth in a smile. + +"Pretty nice down here," he said and Bunker nodded gravely. + +"Yes," he said, "nice place for frogs. Say, did you ever hear the story +about Spud Murphy's frog farm? Well Spud was an old-timer, awful gallant +to the ladies, especially when he'd had a few drinks, and every time +he'd get loaded about so far he'd get out an old flute and play it. But +it sounded so sad and mournful that everybody kicked, and one time over +at a dance when Spud was about to play some ladies began to jolly him +about it. + +"'Well, I'll tell you,' says Spud, 'there's a story connected with that +flute. The only time I ever stood to make a fortune I spoiled it by +playing that sad music.' + +"'Oh, tell us about it,' they all says at once; so Spud began on his +tale. + +"It seems he was over around Clifton when some French miners came in +and, knowing their weakness, Spud dammed up the creek and got ready to +have a frog farm. He sent back to Arkansaw and got three carloads of +bull-frogs--thoroughbreds old Spud said they was--and turned them loose +in the creek; and every evening, to keep them from getting lonely, he'd +play 'em a few tunes on his flute. Well, they were doing fine, getting +used to the dry country and beginning to get over being homesick, when +one night Murph went up there and played them the Arkansaw Traveler. + +"Well, of course that was the come-on--Old Spud stopped his story--and +finally one lady bit. + +"'Yes, but how did you lose your fortune?' she asks and Spud he shakes +his head. + +"'By playing that tune,' he says. 'Them frogs got so homesick they +started right out for Arkansaw--and every one perished on the desert.'" + +"Huh!" grunted Big Boy, who had been listening intolerantly. "Say, is +that all you do--sit around and tell stories for a living? Why the hell +don't you git out and work?" + +"Well, you got me again, kid," admitted Old Bunk mournfully, "I'm sure +sorry I made you that talk. But I was so doggoned sore at that pardner +of yours that I kinder went out of my head." + +"Well, all right," conceded Big Boy, "if that's the way you feel about +it there's no use rubbing it in, but you certainly lost out with me. My +hands may be big, but I never broadened my knuckles by battering on +other people's back doors. At the same time if I have to ask a man for a +meal I expect to be treated civil. When I'm working around town and a +miner strikes me for a stake I give him a dollar to eat on, and if I +happen to be broke when I land in a new camp I work my face the same +way. That's the custom of the country, and when a man asks me why I +don't work----" + +"Aw, forget it!" pleaded Bunker, "didn't I ask your pardon? Didn't my +wife tell you why I said it? But I'll bet you, all the same, if you'd +fed as many as I have you'd throw a fit once in a while, yourself. +Here's the whole camp shut down, only one outfit working and they're +just running a diamond drill--and at the same time I have to feed every +hobo that comes through, whether he's got any money or not. How'd you +like to buy your grub at these war-time prices and run a hotel for +nothing, and at the same time keep up the assessment work on fifteen or +twenty claims? Maybe you'd get kind of peevish when a big bum laid in +his blankets and wouldn't even get up for breakfast!" + +"Ah, that man Meacham!" burst out Big Boy scornfully. "Say do you know +what that yap did to me? We were drilling pardners in the double-jack +contest--it was just yesterday, over in Globe--and in the last few +minutes he began to throw off on me, so I had to win the money myself. +Practically did all the work, and while they were giving me a rub-down +afterwards he collected the money and beat it. I'd put up every dollar I +had in side bets, and the first prize was seven hundred dollars; but he +collected it all and then, when I began looking for him, he took out +over this trail. Well, I was so doggoned mad when I found out what he'd +done that I didn't even stop to eat, and I followed him on the run until +dark. When I ran out of matches to look for his tracks I laid down and +slept in the trail and this morning when I got up I was so stiff and +weak that I couldn't hardly crawl. But I caught the big jasper and +believe me, old-timer, he'll think twice before he robs me again!" + +"He will that," nodded Bunker, "but say, tell me this--ain't half of +that money his?" + +"Not a bean!" declared Big Boy. "We fought for the purse, the winner to +take it all. He saw I was weak or he'd never have stood up to me--that's +why he was so sore when he lost." + +"I'd never've let him hurt you!" protested Old Bunk vehemently, "I had +my gun on him, all the time. And if I'd had my way you'd never have +fought him--I'd have taken the purse away from him." + +"Yes, that's it, you see--that's what he was fishing for--he wanted you +to make it a draw! But I knew all the time I could lick him with one +hand--and I did, too, and got the money!" + +"You did danged well!" praised Bunker roundly, "I never see a gamier +fight; but I thought at the end he sure had you beat--you could hardly +hold up your hands." + +"All a stall!" exclaimed Big Boy proudly. "I began fighting his way at +first, but I saw I was too weak to slug; so, just for a come-on, I +pulled my blows and when he made a swing I downed him." + +"Well, well!" beamed Old Bunk, "you certainly are a wise one--you know +how to use your head. I wouldn't have believed it, but if you're as +smart as all that you've got no business working as a miner. You've got +a little stake--why don't you buy a claim and make a play for big money? +Look at the rich men in the West--take Clark and Douglas and +Wingfield--how did they all get their money? Every one of them made it +out of mining. Some started in as bankers, or store-keepers or +saloon-keepers; but they got their big money, just the same as you or I +will, out of a four-by-six hole in the ground. That's the way I dope it +out and I've spent fifteen years of my life just playing that system to +win. Me and old Bible-Back Murray, the store-keeper down in Moroni, have +been working in this district for years; and, sooner or later, one or +the other of us will strike it and we'll pile up our everlasting +fortunes. I hate the Mormon-faced old dastard, he's such a sanctified +old hypocrite, but I always treat him white and if his diamond drill +hits copper he'll make the two of us rich. Anyhow, that's what I'm +waiting for." + +Big Boy looked up at the striated hills which lay like a section of +layer cake between the base of the mountains and the creek and then he +shook his head. + +"Nope," he said, "it don't look good to me. The formation runs too +regular. What you need for a big mineral deposit is some fissure veins, +where the country has been busted up more." + +"Oh, it don't look like a mineral country at all, eh?" enquired Bunker +Hill sarcastically. "Well, how do you figure it out then that they took +out four million dollars' worth of silver from that little hill right up +the creek?" + +"Don't know," answered Big Boy, "but you couldn't work it now, with +silver down to fifty-two cents. It's copper that's the high card now." + +"Yes, and look what happened to copper when the war broke out?" cried +Bunker Hill derisively, "it went down to eleven cents. But is it down to +eleven now? Well, not so you'd notice it--thirty-one would be more like +it--and all on account of the metal trust. They smashed copper down, +then bought it all up, and now they're boosting the price. Well, they'll +do the same with silver." + +"Aw, you're crazy," came back Big Boy, "they need copper to make +munitions to sell to those nations over in Europe; but what can you make +out of silver?" + +"Oh, nothing," jeered Bunker, "but I'll tell you what you _can_ +do--you can use it to pay for your copper! You hadn't figured that out, +now had you? Well, here now, let me tell _you_ a few things. These +people that are running the metal-buying trust are smart, see--they look +way ahead. They know that after we've grabbed all the gold away from +Europe those nations will have to have some other metal to stand behind +their money--and that metal is going to be silver. The big operators up +in Tonopah ain't selling their silver now, they're storing it away in +vaults, because they know in a little while all the nations in the world +are going to be bidding for silver. And say, do you see that line of +hills? There's silver enough buried underneath them to pay the national +debt of the world." + +He paused and nodded his head impressively and Big Boy broke into a +grin. + +"Say," he said, "you must have some claim for sale, like an old feller I +met over in New Mex. + +"'W'y, young man,' he says when I wouldn't bite, 'you're passing up the +United States Mint. If you had Niagara Falls to furnish the power, and +all hell to run the blast furnace, and the whole State of Texas for a +dump, you couldn't extract the copper from that property inside of a +million years. It's big, I'm telling you, it's big!' And all he wanted +for his claim was a thousand dollars, down." + +"Aw, you make me tired," confessed Bunker Hill frankly, now that he saw +his sale gone glimmering, "I see you're never going to get very far. +You'll tramp back to Globe and blow in your money and go back to +polishing a drill. W'y, a young man like you, if he had any ambition, +could buy one of these claims for little or nothing and maybe make a +fortune. I'll tell you what I'll do--you stay around here a while and +look at some of my claims; and if you see something you like----" + +"Nope," said Big Boy, "you can't work me now--you lost your horse-shoe +this morning. I was a hobo then and you told me to go to hell, but now +when you see I've got eight hundred dollars you're trying to bunco me +out of it. I know who you are, I've heard the boys tell about +you--you're one of these blue-bellied Yankees that try to make a living +swapping jack-knives. You got your name from that Bunker Hill monument +and they shortened it down to Bunk. Well, you lose--that's all I'll say; +I wouldn't buy your claims if they showed twenty dollar gold pieces, +with everything on 'em but the eagle-tail. And the formation is no good +here, anyhow." + +"Oh, it ain't, hey?" came back Bunk thrusting out his jaw belligerently, +"well take a look up at that cliff. That Apache Leap is solid +porphyry----" + +"Apache Leap!" broke in Big Boy suddenly sitting erect and looking all +around, "by grab, is this the place?" + +"This is the place," replied Old Bunk wagging his head and smiling +wisely, "and that cap is solid porphyry." + +"Gee, boys!" exclaimed Big Boy getting up on his feet, "say, is that +where they killed all those Indians?" + +"The very place," returned Bunker Hill proudly, "you can find their +skeletons there to this day." + +"Well, for cripe's sake," murmured Big Boy at last and looked up at the +cliff again. + +"Some jump-off," observed Bunker, but Big Boy did not hear him--he was +looking up at the sun. + +"Say," he said, "when the sun rises in the morning how far out does that +shadow come?" + +"What shadow?" demanded Bunker Hill. "Oh, of Apache Leap? It goes way +out west of town." + +"And does it throw its shadow on these hills where your claims are? +Well, old-timer, I'll just take a look at them." + +He climbed out purposefully and began to put on his shoes and Old Bunk +squinted at him curiously. There was something going on that he did not +know about--some connection between the Leap and his mines; he waited, +and the secret popped out. + +"Say," said Big Boy after a long minute of silence, "do you believe in +fortune-tellers?" + +"Sure thing!" spoke up Bunker, suddenly taking a deep breath and +swallowing his Adam's apple solemnly, "I believe in them phenomena +implicitly. And, as I was about to say, you can have any claim I've got +for eight hundred dollars--cash." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MOTHER TRIGEDGO + + +"Well, I'll tell you," confided Big Boy, moving closer to Old Bunk and +lowering his voice mysteriously, "I know you'll think I'm crazy, but +there's something to that stuff. Maybe we don't understand it, and of +course there's a lot of fakes, but I got this from Mother Trigedgo. +She's that Cornish seeress, that predicted the big cave in the stope of +the Last Chance mine, and now I _know_ she's good. She tells +fortunes by cards and by pouring water in your hand and going into a +trance. Then she looks into the water and sees a kind of vision of all +that is going to happen. Well, here's what she said for me--and she +wrote it down on a paper. + +"'You will soon make a journey to the west and there, in the shadow of a +place of death, you will find two treasures, one of silver and the other +of gold. Choose well between the two and----" + +"By grab, that's right, boy!" exclaimed Old Bunk enthusiastically, "she +described this place down to a hickey. You came west from Globe and when +you went by here the shadow was still on those hills; and as for a place +of death, Apache Leap got its name from the Indians that jumped over +that cliff. Say, you could hunt all over Arizona and not find another +place that came within a mile of it!" + +"That's right," mused Big Boy, "but I was thinking all the time that +that place of death would be a graveyard." + +"Sure, but how could a graveyard cast a shadow--they're always on level +ground. No, I'm telling you, boy, that there cliff is the place--lemme +tell you how it got its name. A long time ago when the Indians were bad +they had a soldiers' post right here where this town stands, and they +kept a lookout up on the Picket Post butte, where they could heliograph +clear down to Tucson. Well, every time a bunch of Indians would go down +out of the hills to raid some wagon-train on the trail this lookout +would see them and signal Tucson and the soldiers would do the rest. It +got so bymeby the Indians couldn't do anything and at last Old Cochise +got together about eight hundred Apaches and came over to wipe out the +post. It looked easy at the time, because there was less than two +hundred men, but the major in command was a fighting fool and didn't +know when he was whipped. The Apaches all gathered up on the top of +those high cliffs--it's flat on the upper side--and one night when their +signal fires had burned down the soldiers sneaked around behind them. +And then, just at dawn, they fired a volley and made a rush for the +camp; and before they knowed it about two hundred Indians had jumped +clean over the cliff. They killed the rest of them--all but two or three +bucks that fought their way through the line--and now, by grab, you +couldn't get an Indian up there if you'd offer him a quart of whiskey. +It's sure bad medicine for Apaches." + +"Isn't it wonderful!" exclaimed Big Boy, "there's no use talking--this +sure is the place of death. And say, next time you go over to Globe you +go and see Mother Trigedgo--I just want to tell you what she did!" + +"All right," sighed Old Bunk, who preferred to talk business, and he +settled down to listen. + +"This Mother Trigedgo," began Big Boy, "isn't an ordinary, cheap +fortune-teller. Those people are all fakes because they're just out for +the dollar and tell you what they think you want to know. But Mother +Trigedgo keeps a Cousin-Jack boarding house and only prophesies when she +feels the power. Sometimes she'll go along for a week or more and never +tell a fortune; and then, when she happens to be feeling right, she'll +tell some feller what's coming to him. Those Cousin Jacks are crazy +about what she can do, but I never went to a seeress in my life until +after we had that big cave. I'm a timber man, you see, and sometimes I +take contracts to catch up dangerous ground; and the best men in the +world when it comes to that work are these old-country Cousin Jacks. +They're nervy and yet they're careful and so I always hire 'em; but when +we were doing this work down in the stope of the Last Chance, they began +talking about Mother Trigedgo. It seems she'd told the fortune of a boy +or two--they were all of them boarding at her house--and she was so +worried she could hardly cook on account of them working in this mine. +It was swelling ground and there were a lot of old workings where the +timbering had given way; and to tell you the truth I didn't like it +myself, although I wouldn't admit it." + +"Well, it was the twenty-second of April, and all that morning we could +hear the ground working over head and when it came noon we went up +above, as we says, for a breath of fresh air. But while we were eating, +there was a Cousin Jack named Chambers fetched up this old talk about +Mother Trigedgo, and how she'd predicted he'd be killed in a cave if he +didn't quit working in the stope; and when our half-hour's nooning was +up he says: 'I'll not go down that shaft!' + +"We were all badly scared, because that ground was always moving, and +finally we agreed that we'd take a full hour off and work till five +o'clock. Well, we waited till after one before we went to the collar and +just as I was stepping into the cage the whole danged stope caved in!" + +"Well, sir, I went back to my room and got every dollar I had and gave +Mother Trigedgo the roll. I could easy earn more but if I'd been caught +in that cave they'd never even tried to dig me out. That was the least I +could do, considering what she'd done for me; but Mother Trigedgo took +on so much about it that I told her it was to have my fortune told. +Well, she tried the cards and dice and consulted the signs of the +Zodiac; and then one day when she felt the power strong she poured a +little water in my hand. That made a kind of pool, like these +crystal-gazers use, and when she looked into it she began to talk and +she told me all about my life. Or that is, she told me what she thought +I ought to know, and gave me a copy of the Book of Fate that Napoleon +always consulted. And here it ain't three months till I make this +journey west and find the place she prophesied." + +"Yes, and silver, too!" added Old Bunk portentously, "she hit it, down +to a hickey. And now, if you'd like to inspect those claims----" + +"No, hold on," protested Big Boy still pondering on his fate, "I've got +to find these treasures myself. And one of them was of gold. What's the +chances around here for that?" + +"Danged poor," grumbled Bunker as he saw his hopes gone glimmering, +"don't remember to have seen a color. But say, old Bible Back is +drilling for copper and that's a good deal like gold. Same color, +practically, and you know all these prophecies have a kind of symbolical +meaning. A golden treasure don't necessarily mean gold, and I've got a +claim----" + +"Say, who's that up there?" broke in Big Boy uneasily and Old Bunk +looked around with a jerk. + +An old, white-haired man, wearing a battered cork helmet, was peering +over the bank and when he perceived that his presence was discovered he +came shuffling down the trail. He was a short, fat man, in faded shirt +and overalls; and on his feet he wore a pair of gunboat brogans, thickly +studded on the bottom with hob-nails. A space of six inches between the +tops of his shoes and the worn-off edge of his trousers exposed his +shrunken shanks, and he carried a stick which might serve for cane or +club as circumstances demanded. He came down briskly with his broad toes +turned out in grotesque resemblance to a duck and when Bunker Hill saw +him he snorted resentfully and rose up from his seat. + +"Have you seen my burros?" demanded the old man, half defiantly, "I +can't find dose rascals nowhere. Ah, so; here's a stranger come to camp! +Good morning, I'm glad to know you." + +"Good morning," returned Big Boy glancing doubtfully at Bunker Hill, "my +name is Denver Russell." + +"Oh, excuse _me_!" spoke up Bunker with a sarcastic drawl, "Mr. +Russell, this is Professor Diffenderfer, the eminent buttinsky and +geologist." + +"Ah--so!" beamed the Professor overlooking the fling in the excitement +of the meeting, "I take it you're a mining man? Vell, if it's golt +you're looking for I haf a claim up on dat hill dat is rich in +auriferous deposits." + +"Yes," broke in Bunker giving Big Boy a sly wink, "you ought to inspect +that tunnel--it's unique in the annals of mining. You see the Professor +here is an educated man--he's learned all the big words in the +dictionary, and he's learned mining from reading Government reports. +We're quite proud of his achievements as a mining engineer, but you +ought to see that tunnel. It starts into the hill, takes a couple of +corkscrew twists and busts right out into the sunshine." + +"Oh, never mind _him_!" protested the Professor as Bunker burst +into a roar, "he will haf his choke, of course. But dis claim I speak +of----" + +"And that ain't all his accomplishments," broke in Bunker Hill +relentlessly, "Mr. Diffenderfer is a count--a German count--sometimes +known as Count No-Count. But as I was about to say, his greatest +accomplishments have been along tonsorial lines." + +A line of pain appeared between the Professor's eyes--but he stood his +ground defiantly. "Yes," went on Bunker thrusting out his jaw in a +baleful leer at his rival, "for many years he has had the proud +distinction of being the Champion Rough-Riding Barber of Arizona." + +"Vell, I've got to go," murmured the Professor hastily, "I've got to +find dem burros." + +He started off but at the plank across the creek he stopped and cleared +his throat. "Und any time," he began, "dat you'd like to inspect dem +claims----" + +"The Champeen--Rough-Riding--Barber!" repeated Old Bunk with gusto, "he +won his title on the race-track at Tucson, before safety razors was +invented." + +"Shut up!" snapped the Professor and, crossing the plank with waspish +quickness, he went squattering off down the creek. Yet one ear was +turned back and as Bunker began to speak he stopped in the trail to +listen. + +"He took a drunken cowboy up in the saddle before him," went on Bunker +with painful distinctness, "and gave him a close shave while the horse +was bucking, only cutting his throat three times." + +"You're a liar!" yelled the Professor and, stamping his foot, he hustled +vengefully off down the trail. + +"Say, who is that old boy?" enquired Big Boy curiously, "he might know +where I'd find that gold." + +"Who--him?" jeered Bunker, "why, that old stiff wouldn't know a chunk of +gold if he saw it. All he does is to snoop around and watch what +_I'm_ doing, and if he ever thinks that I've picked up a live one +he butts in and tries to underbid me. Now I'll tell you what I'll do, +I'll get you a horse and show you all over the district, and any claim +I've got that you want to go to work on, you can have for five hundred +dollars. Now, that's reasonable, ain't it? And yet, the way things are +going, I'm glad to let you in on it. If you strike something big, here +I've got my store and mine, and plenty of other claims, to boot; and if +there's a rush I stand to make a clean-up on some of my other +properties. So come up to the house and meet my wife and daughter, and +we'll try to make you comfortable. But that old feller----" + +"Nope," said Big Boy, "I think I'd rather camp--who lives in those +cave-houses up there?" + +He jerked his head at some walled-up caves in the bluff not far across +the creek and Old Bunk scowled reproachfully. + +"Oh, nobody," he said, "except the rattle-snakes and pack-rats. Why +don't you come up to the house?" + +"I don't need to go to your house," returned Big Boy defiantly. "I've +got money to buy what I need." + +"Yes, but come up anyway and meet my wife and daughter. Drusilla is a +musician--she's studied in Boston at the celebrated Conservatory of +Music----" + +"I've got me a phonograph," answered Big Boy shortly, "if I can ever get +it over here from Globe." + +"Well, go ahead and get it, then," said Bunker Hill tartly, "they's +nobody keeping you, I'm sure." + +"No, and you bet your life there won't be," came back Big Boy, starting +off, "I'm playing a lone hand to win." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE ORACULUM + + +The palpitating heat lay like a shimmering fleece over the deserted camp +of Pinal and Denver Russell, returning from Globe, beheld it as one in a +dream. Somewhere within the shadow of Apache Leap were two treasures +that he was destined to find, one of gold and one of silver; and if he +chose wisely between them they were both to be his. And if he chose +unwisely, or tried to hold them both, then both would be lost and he +would suffer humiliation and shame. Yet he came back boldly, fresh from +a visit with Mother Trigedgo who had blessed him and called him her son. +She had wept when they parted, for her burdens had been heavy and his +gift had lightened her lot; but though she wished him well she could not +control his fate, for that lay with the powers above. Nor could she +conceal from him the portion of evil which was balanced against the +good. + +"Courage and constancy will attend you through life'" she had written in +her old-country scrawl; "but in the end will prove your undoing, for you +will meet your death at the hands of your dearest friend." + +That was the doom that hung over him like a hair-suspended sword--to be +killed by his dearest friend--and as he paused at the mouth of Queen +Creek Canyon he wished that his fortune had not been told. Of what good +to him would be the two hidden treasures--or even the beautiful young +artist with whom he was destined to fall in love--if his life might be +cut off at any moment by some man that he counted his friend? +_When_ his death should befall, Mother Trigedgo had not told, for +the signs had been obscure; but when it did come it would be by the hand +of the man that he called his best friend. A swift surge of resistance +came over him again as he gazed at the promised land and he shut his +teeth down fiercely. He would have no friends, no best of friends, but +all men that he met he would treat the same and so evade the harsh hand +of fate. Forewarned was forearmed, he would have no more pardners such +as men pick up in rambling around; but in this as in all else he would +play a lone hand and so postpone the evil day. + +He strode on down the trail into the silent town where the houses stood +roofless and bare, and as he glanced at the ancient gallows-frame above +the abandoned mine fresh courage came into his heart. This city of the +dead should come back to life if what the stars said was true; and the +long rows of adobes now stripped of windows and doors, would awaken to +the tramp of miners' boots. He would find two treasures and, if he chose +well between them, both the silver and the gold would be his. But +neither wily Bunker Hill nor the palavering Professor should pull him +this way or that; for Mother Trigedgo had given him a book, to consult +on all important occasions. It was Napoleon's Oraculum, or Book of Fate; +and as Denver had glanced at the key--with its thirty-two questions +covering every important event in human life--a thrill of security had +passed over him. With this mysterious Oraculum, the Man of Destiny had +solved the many problems of his life; and in question thirteen, that +sinister number, was a test that would serve Denver well: + +"Will the FRIEND I most reckon upon prove faithful or treacherous?" + +How many times must that great, aloof man have put some friend's loyalty +to the test; and if the answer was in the negative how often had he +avoided death by foreknowledge of impending treachery! Yet such friends +as he had retained had all proved loyal, his generals had been devoted +to his cause; and with the aid of his Oraculum he had conquered all his +enemies--until at last the Book of Fate had been lost. At the battle of +Leipsic, in the confusion of the retreat, his precious Dream Book had +been left behind. Kings and Emperors had used it since, and seeresses as +well; and now, after the lapse of a hundred years, it was published in +quaint cover and lettering, for the guidance of all and sundry. And Old +Mother Trigedgo, coming all the way from Cornwall, had placed the Book +of Fate in his hands! There was destiny in everything, and this woman +who had saved his life could save it again with her Oraculum. + +Denver turned to the Mexican who, with two heavily-packed mules, stood +patiently awaiting his pleasure; and with a brief nod of the head he +strode down the trail while the mules minced along behind him. Past the +old, worked-out mine, past the melted-down walls of abandoned adobe +ruins, he led on to the store and the cool, darkened house which +sheltered the family of Andrew Hill; but even here he did not stop, +though Old Bunk beckoned him in. His life, which had once been as other +people's lives, had been touched by the hand of fate; and gayeties and +good cheer, along with friendship and love, had been banished to the +limbo of lost dreams. So he turned across the creek and led the way to +the cave that was destined to be his home. + +It was an ancient cavern beneath the rim of a low cliff which overlooked +the town and as Denver was helping to unlash the packs Bunker Hill came +toiling up the trail. + +"Got back, hey?" he greeted stepping into the smoke-blackened cave and +gazing dubiously about, "well, it'll be cool inside here, anyway." + +"Yes, that's what I figured on," responded Denver briefly, and as he +cleaned out the rats' nests and began to make camp Old Bunk sat down in +the doorway and began a new cycle of stories. + +"This here cave," he observed, "used to be occupied by the +cliff-dwellers--them's their hand-marks, up on the wall; and then I +reckon the Apaches moved in, and after them the soldiers; but when the +Lost Burro began turning out the ore, I'll bet it was crowded like a +bar-room. Them was the days, I'm telling you--you couldn't walk the +street for miners out spending their money--and a cliff-house like this +with a good, tight roof, would bring in a hundred dollars a night, any +time that it happened to rain. All them melted-down adobes was plumb +full of people, the saloons were running full blast, and the miner that +couldn't steal ten dollars a day had no business working underground. +They took out chunks of native silver as big as your head, and it all +ran a thousand ounces to the ton, but even at that them worthless +mule-skinners was throwing pure silver at their teams. They had mounted +guards to ride along with the wagons and keep them from stealing the +ore, but you can pick up chunks yet where them teamsters threw them off +and never went back to find 'em. + +"Did you ever hear how the Lost Burro was found? Well, the name, of +course, tells the story. If one of these prospectors goes out to find +his burros he runs across a mine; and if he goes out the next day to +look for another mine he runs across his burros. The most of them are +like the old Professor down here, they wouldn't know mineral if they saw +it; but of course when they grab up a chunk of pure silver and start to +throw it at a jackass they can't help taking notice. Well, that's the +way this mine was found. A prospector that was camping here went up on +that little hill to rock his old burro back to camp and right on top he +found a piece of silver that was so pure you could cut it with your +knife. That guy was honest, he gave the credit to his burro, and, if the +truth was known, half the mines in the west would be named after some +knot-headed jackass. That's how much intellect it takes to be a +prospector." + +"No, I'll tell you what's the matter with these prospectors," returned +Denver with a miner's scorn, "they do everything in the world but dig. +They'll hike, and hunt burros and go out across the desert; but anything +that calls for a few taps of work they'll pass it right up, every time. +And I'll tell you, old-timer, all the mines on top of ground have been +located long ago. That's why you hear so much about 'Swede luck' these +days--the Swede ain't too lazy to sink. + +"That's my motto--sink! Get down to bed-rock and see what there is on +the bottom; but these danged prospectors just hang around the +water-holes and play pedro until they eat up their grub-stakes." + +"Heh, heh; that's right," responded Bunker reminiscently, "say, did you +ever hear of old Abe Berg? He used to keep a store down below in Moroni; +and there was one of these old prospectors that made a living that way, +used to touch him up regular for a grub-stake. Old Abe was about as easy +as Bible-Back Murray when you showed him a rich piece of ore and after +this prospector had et up all his grub he'd drift back to town for more. +But on the way in, like all of them fellers, he'd stop at some real good +mine; and after he'd stole a few chunks of high-grade ore he'd take it +along to show to Abe. But after a while Old Abe got suspicious--he +didn't fall for them big stories any more--and at last he began to +enquire just where this bonanza was, that the prospector was reporting +on so favorable. Well, the feller told him and Abe he scratched his head +and enquired the name of the mine. + +"'Why, I call it the Juniper,' says the old prospector kind of innocent; +and Abe he jumped right up in the air. + +"'Vell, dat's all right,' he yells, tapping himself on the chest, 'but +here's one Jew, I betcher, dat you von't nip again!' Get the point--he +thought the old prospector was making a joke of it and calling his mine +the Jew-Nipper!" + +"Yeah, I'm hep," replied Russell, "say who is this feller that you call +Bible-Back Murray--has he got any claims around here?" + +"Claims!" repeated Bunker, "well, I guess he has. He's got a hundred if +I've got one--this whole upper district is located." + +"What--this whole country?" exclaimed Denver in sudden dismay, "the +whole range of hills--all that lays in the shadow of the Leap?" + +"Jest about," admitted Bunker, "but as I told you before, you can have +any of mine for five hundred." + +"Oh hell," burst out Denver and then he roused up and a challenge crept +into his voice. "Do you mean to tell me," he said, "that he's kept up +his assessment work? Has he done a hundred dollars worth of work on +every claim? No, you know danged well he hasn't--you've just been doing +lead-pencil work." + +"That's all right," returned Bunker, "we've got a gentlemen's agreement +to respect each others monuments; and you'll find our sworn statements +that the work has been done on file with the County Recorder." + +"Yes, and now I know," grumbled Russell rebelliously, "why the whole +danged district is dead. You and Murray and this old Dutchman have +located all the ground and you're none of you doing any work. But when a +miner like me blows into the camp and wants to prospect around he's +stuck for five hundred dollars. How'm I going to buy my powder and a +little grub and steel if I give up my roll at the start? No, I'll look +this country over and if I find what I want----" + +"You'll pay for it, young man," put in Bunker Hill pointedly, "that is, +if it belongs to me." + +"Well, I will if it's worth it," answered Russell grudgingly, "but +you've got to show me your title." + +"Sure I will," agreed Bunker, "the best title a man can have--continuous +and undisputed possession. I've been here fifteen years and I've never +had a claim jumped yet." + +"Who's this Bible-Back Murray?" demanded Denver, "has he got a clean +title to his ground?" + +"You bet he has," replied Bunker Hill, "and he's got my name as a +witness that his yearly assessment work's been done." + +"And you, I suppose," suggested Denver sarcastically, "have got +_his_ name, as an affidavit man, to prove that _your_ work has +been done. And when I look around I'll bet there ain't a hole anywhere +that's been sunk in the last two years." + +"Yes there is!" contradicted Bunker, "you go right up that wash that +comes down from them north hills and you'll find one that's down twelve +hundred feet. And there's a diamond drill outfit sinking twenty feet a +day, and has been for the last six months. At five dollars a +foot--that's the contract price--Old Bible-Back is paying a hundred +dollars a day. Now--how many days will that drill have to run to do the +annual work? No, you're all right, young man, and I like your nerve, but +you don't want to take too much for granted." + +"Judas priest!" exclaimed Russell, "twelve hundred feet deep? What does +the old boy think he's got?" + +"He's drilling for copper," nodded Bunker significantly, "and for all +you and I know, he's got it. He's got an armed guard in charge of that +drill, and no outsider has been allowed anywhere near it for going on to +six months. The cores are all stored away in boxes where nobodv can get +their hands on them and the way old Bible-Back is sweating blood I +reckon they're close to the ore. But a hundred dollars a day--say, the +way things are now that'll make or break old Murray. He's been blowing +in money for ten or twelve years trying to develop his silver +properties; but now he's crazy as a bed-bug over copper--can't talk +about anything else." + +"Is that so?" murmured Denver and as he went about his work his brain +began to seethe and whirl. Here was something he had not known of, an +element of chance which might ruin all his plans; for if the diamond +drill broke into rich copper ore his chance at the two treasures would +be lost. There would be a big rush and the price of claims would soar to +thousands of dollars. The country looked well for copper, with its heavy +cap of dacite and the manganese filling in the veins; and it was only a +day's journey in each direction from the big copper camps of Ray and +Globe. He turned impulsively and reached for his purse, but as he was +about to plank down his five hundred dollars in advance he remembered +Mother Trigedgo's words. + +"Choose well between the two and both shall be yours. But if you choose +unwisely, then both will be lost and you will suffer humiliation and +shame." + +"Say," blurted out Denver, "your claims are all silver--haven't you got +a gold prospect anywhere?" + +"No, I haven't," answered Old Bunk, his eye on the bank-roll, "but I'll +accept a deposit on that offer. Any claim I've got--except the Lost +Burro itself--for five hundred dollars, cash." + +"How long is that good for?" enquired Russell cautiously and Bunker +slapped his leg for action. + +"It's good for right now," he said, "and not a minute after!" + +"But I've got to look around," pleaded Denver desperately, "I've got to +find both these treasures--one of silver and one of gold--and make my +choice between them." + +"Well, that's your business," said Bunker rising up abruptly. "Will you +take that offer or not?" + +"No," replied Denver, putting up his purse and Old Bunk glanced at him +shrewdly. + +"Well, I'll give you a week on it," he said, smiling grimly, and stood +up to look down the trail. Denver looked out after him and there, +puffing up the slope, came Professor Diffenderfer, the eminent buttinsky +and geologist. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE EMINENT BUTTINSKY + + +That there was no love lost between Bunker Hill and Professor +Diffenderfer was evident by their curt greetings, but as they began to +bandy words Denver became suddenly aware that he was the cause of their +feud. He and his eight hundred dollars, a sum so small that a shoestring +promoter would hardly notice it; and yet these two men with their +superfluity of claims were fighting for his favor like pawn-brokers. +Bunker Hill had seen him first and claimed him as his right; but +Professor Diffenderfer, ignoring the ethics of the game, was out to make +a sale anyway. He carried in one hand a large sack of specimens, and +under his arm were some weighty tomes which turned out to be Government +reports. He came up slowly, panting and sweating in the heat, and when +he stepped in Bunk was waiting for him. + +"O-ho," he said, "here comes the Professor. The only German count that +ever gave up his title to become an American barber. Well, Professor, +you're just the man I'm looking for--I want to ask your professional +opinion. If two white-bellied mice ran down the same hole would the one +with the shortest tail get down first?" + +The Professor staggered in and sat down heavily while he wiped the sweat +from his eyes. + +"Mr. Russell," he began, ignoring the grinning Bunker, "I vant to +expound to you the cheology of dis country--I haf made it a lifelong +study." + +"Yes, you want to get this," put in Bunker _sotto voce_, "he knows +every big word in them books." + +"I claim," went on the Professor, slapping the books together +vehemently, "I claim dat in dis district we haf every indication of a +gigantic deposit of copper. The morphological conditions, such as we see +about us everywhere, are distinctly favorable to metalliferous +deposition; and the genetic influences which haf taken place later----" + +"Well, he's off," sighed Bunker rising wearily up and ambling over +towards the door, "so long, Big Boy, I'll see you to-morrow. Never could +understand broken English." + +"Dat's all righd!" spat back the Professor with spiteful emphasis, "I'm +addressing my remarks to dis _chentleman_!" + +"Ah--so!" mimicked Bunker. "Vell, shoodt id indo him! And say, tell him +about that tunnel! Tell him how you went in until the air got bad and +came out up the hill like a gopher. Took a double circumbendibus and, +after describing a parabola----" + +"Dat's all righd!" repeated the Professor, "now--you think you're so +smart--I'm going to prove _you_ a liar! I heard you the other day +tell dis young man here dat dere vas no golt in dis district. Vell! All +righd! We vill see now--joost look! Vat you call _dat_ now, my goot +young friend?" He dumped out the contents of his canvas ore-sack and +nodded to Denver triumphantly. "I suppose dat aindt golt, eh! Maybe I +try to take advantage of you and show you what dey call fools gold--what +mineralogists call pyrites of iron? No? It aindt dat? Vell, let me ask +you vun question den--am I righd or am I wrong?" + +"You're right, old man," returned Denver eagerly as he held a specimen +to the light; and when he looked up Bunker Hill was gone. + +"You see?" leered the Professor jerking his thumb towards the door, "dot +man vas trying to _do_ you. He don't like to haf me show you dis +golt. He vants you to believe dat here is only silver; but I am a +cheologist--I know!" + +"Yes, this is gold," admitted Denver, wetting the thin strip of quartz, +"but it don't look like much of a vein. Whereabouts did you get these +specimens?" + +"From a claim dat I haf, not a mile south of here," burst out the +Professor in great excitement; and while Denver listened in stunned +amazement he went into an involved and sadly garbled exposition of the +geological history of the district. + +"Yes, sure," broke in Denver when he came to a pause, "I'll take your +word for all that. What I want to know is where this claim is located. +If its inside the shadow of Apache Leap, I'll go down and take a look at +it; but----" + +"But vat has the shadow of the mountain to do with it?" inquired the +Professor with ponderous dignity. "The formation, as I vas telling you, +is highly favorable to an extensive auriferous deposit----" + +"Aw, can the big words," broke in Denver impatiently, "I don't give a +dang for geology. What I'm looking for is a mine, in the shadow of that +big cliff, and----" + +"Ah, ah! Yes, I see!" exclaimed the Professor delightedly, "it must +conform to the vords of the prophecy! Yes, my mine is in the shadow of +Apache Leap, where the Indians yumped over and were killed." + +"Well, I'll look at it," responded Denver coldly, "but who told you +about that prophecy? It kinder looks to me as if----" + +"Oh, vell," apologized the Professor, "I vas joost going by and I +couldn't help but listen. Because dis Bunker Hill, he is alvays +spreading talk dat I am not a cheologist. But him, now; _him_! Do +you know who he is? He is nothing but an ignorant cowman. Ven dis mine +vas closed down I vas for some years the care-taker, vat you call the +custodian of the plant; and dis Bunker Hill, ven I happened to go avay, +he come and take the job. I am a consulting cheologist and my services +are very valuable, but he took the job for fifty dollars a month and +came here to run his cattle. For eight or ten years he lived right in +dat house and took all dat money for nothing; and den, when the Company +can't pay him no more, he takes over the property on a lien. Dat fine, +valuable mine, one of the richest in the vorld, and vot you think he +done with it? He and Mike McGraw, dat hauls up his freight, dey tore it +all down for junk! All dat fine machinery, all dem copper plates, all +the vater-pipe, the vindows and doors--they tore down everything and +hauled it down to Moroni, vere they sold it for nothing to Murray! + +"Do you know vot I would do if I owned dat mine?" demanded the Professor +with rising wrath. "I vould organize a company and pump oudt the vater +and make myself a millionaire. But dis Bunker Hill, he's a big bag of +vind--all he does is to sit around and talk! A t'ousand times I haf told +him repeatedly dat dere are millions of dollars in dat mine, and a +t'ousand times he tells me I am crazy. For fifteen years I haf begged +him for the privilege to go into pardners on dat mine. I haf written +reports, describing the cheology of dis district, for the highest mining +journals in the country; I haf tried to interest outside capital; and +den, for my pay, when some chentleman comes to camp, he tells him dat I +am a barber!" + +The Professor paused and swallowed fiercely, and as Denver broke into a +grin the old man choked with fury. + +"Do you know what dat man has been?" he demanded, shaking a trembling +finger towards Bunker's house, "he has been everything but an honest +man--a faro-dealer, a crook, a gambler! He vas nothing--a bum--when his +vife heard about him and come here from Boston to marry him! Dey vas +boy-und-girl sveetheart, you know. And righdt avay he took her money and +put it into cows, and the drought come along and killed them; and now he +has nothing, not so much as I haf, and an expensive daughter besides!" + +He paused and wagged his head and indulged in a senile grin. + +"Und pretty, too--vat? The boys are all crazy, but she von't have a +thing to do with them. She von't come outdoors when the cowboys ride by +and stop to buy grub at the store. No, she's too good to talk to old +mens like me, and with cowboys what get forty a month; but she spends +all her time playing tunes on the piano and singing scales avay up in G. +You vait, pretty soon you hear her begin--dat scale-singing drives me +madt!" + +"Oh, sings scales, eh?" said Denver suddenly beginning to take an +interest, "must be studying to become a singer." + +"Dat's it," nodded the old man shaking his finger solemnly, "her mother +vas a singer before her. But after they have spent all their money to +educate her the teacher says she lacks the temperament. She can never +sing, he says, because she is too _dumf_; too--what you call +it--un-feeling. She lacks the fire of the vonderful Gadski--she has not +the g-great heart of Schumann-Heink. She is an American, you see, and +dat is the end of it, so all their money is spent." + +"Oh, I don't know," defended Denver warmly, "what's the matter with +Nordica, and Mary Garden and Farrar? They're Americans, all right, and +I've got some of their records that simply can't be beat! You wait till +I get out my instrument." + +He broke open a box in which was packed with many wrappings a polished +and expensive phonograph, but as he was clearing a space on a rickety +old table the Professor broke into a cackle. + +"Dere! Dere!" he cried, "don't you hear her now? 'Ah, ah, ah, oo, oo, +oo, oo!' Vell, dat's what we get from morning till night--by golly, it +makes me sick!" + +"Aw, that's all right," said Denver after listening critically, "she's +just getting ready to sing." + +"Getting ready!" sneered the Professor, "don't you fool yourself +dere--she'll keep dat going for hours. And in the morning she puts on +just one thin white dress and dances barefoot in the garden. I come by +dere one time and looked over the vall--and, psst, listen, she don't +vare no corsets! She ought to be ashamed." + +"Well, what about you, you danged old stiff?" inquired Denver with +ill-concealed scorn. "If Old Bunk had seen you he'd have killed you." + +"Ah--him?" scoffed the Professor, "no, he von't hurt nobody. Lemme tell +you something--now dis is a fact. When he married his vife--and she's an +awful fine lady--all she asked vas dat he'd stop his tammed fighting. +You see? I know everyt'ing--every little t'ing--I been around dis place +too long. She came right out here from the East and offered to marry +him, but he had to give up his fighting. He was a bad man--you see? He +was quick with a gun, and she was afraid he'd go out and get killed. So +I laugh at him now and he goes avay and leaves me--but he von't let me +talk with his vife. She's an awful nice woman but----" + +"Danged right she is!" put in Denver with sudden warmth and after a +rapid questioning glance the Professor closed his mouth. + +"Vell, I guess I'll be going," he said at last and Denver did not urge +him to stay. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE SILVER TREASURE + + +As evening came on and the red eye of the sun winked and closed behind a +purple range of mountains Denver Russell came out of his cliff-dwelling +cave and looked at the old town below. Mysterious shadows were gathering +among the ruins, the white walls stood out ghostly and still, and as a +breeze stirred the clacking leaves of the sycamores a voice mounted up +like a bird's. It rose slowly and descended, it ran rippling arpeggios +and lingered in flute-like trills; but it was colorless, impersonal, +void of feeling. + +It was more like a flute than like the voice of a bird that pours out +its soul for joy; it was perfect, but it was not moving. Only as the +spirit of the desolate town--as of some lost soul, pure and +passionless--did it find its note of appeal and Denver sighed and sat +silent in the darkness. His thoughts strayed far away, to his boyhood in +the mountains, to his wanderings from camp to camp; they leapt ahead to +the problem that lay before him, the choice between the silver and gold +treasures; and then, drowsy and oblivious, he left the voice still +singing and groped to his bed in the cave. + +All night the prying pack-rats, dispossessed of their dwelling, raced +and gnawed and despoiled his provisions; but when the day dawned Denver +left them to do their worst, for his mind was on greater things. At +another time, when he was not so busy, he would swing some rude +cupboards on wires and store his food out of reach; but now he only +stopped to make a hasty breakfast and started off up the trail. When the +sun rose, over behind Apache Leap, and cast its black shadow among the +hills, Denver was up on the rim-rock, looking out on the promised land +that should yield him two precious treasures. + +The rim where he stood was uptilted and broken, a huge stratified wall +like the edge of a layer cake or the leaves of some mighty book. They +lay one upon the other, these ledges of lime and sandstone, some red, +some yellow, some white; and, heaped upon the top like a rich coating of +chocolate, was the brownish-black cap of the lava. In ages long past +each layer had been a mud bank at the bottom of a tropic sea, until the +weight of waters had pressed them down and time had changed them to +stone. Then Mother Earth had breathed and in a slow, century-long heave, +they had emerged from the bottom of the sea, there to be broken and +shattered by the pent-up forces of the fire which was raging in her +breast. + +Great rents had been formed, igneous rocks had boiled up through them; +and then in a grand, titanic effort the fire had forced its way up. For +centuries this extinct volcano had belched forth its lava, building up +the frowning heights of Apache Leap; and then once more the earth had +subsided and the waters of the ocean had rushed in. The edge of the +rim-rock had been sheered by torrential floods, erosion had fashioned +the far heights; until once more, with infinite groanings, the earth had +risen from the depths. There it stayed, cracking and trembling, as the +inner fires cooled down and the fury of the conflict died away; and +boiling waters bearing ores in solution burst like geysers from every +crack. And there atom by atom, combined with quartz and acids, the +metals of the earth were brought to the surface and deposited on the +sides of the cracks. Copper and gold and silver and lead, and many a +rarer metal, all spewed up from the molten heart of the world to be +sought out and used by man. + +All this Denver sensed as he gazed at the high cliff where the volcano +had overflowed the earth, and at the layers and layers of sedimentary +rock that protruded from beneath its base; but his eyes, though they +sensed it, cared nothing for the great Cause--what they looked for was +the fruit of all that labor. Where along this shattered rim-rock, +twisted and hacked and uptilted, were the hidden cracks, the precious +fissure veins, that had brought up the ore from the depths? There at his +feet lay one, the gash through the rim where Queen Creek took its +course; and further to the north, where the rim-rock was wrenched to the +west, was another likely place. To the south there was another, a deep, +sharp canyon that broke through the formation to the heights; and over +them all, like a sheltering hand, lay the dark, moving shadow of Apache +Leap. He traced out its line as it crept back towards the town and then, +big eyed and silent, he started down the trail, still looking for some +sign that might guide him. + +But other eyes than his had been sweeping the rim and as he came up the +trail Bunker Hill appeared and walked along beside him. + +"I'll just show you those claims," he said smiling genially, "it'll save +you a little time, and maybe a pair of shoes. And just to prove that I'm +on the square I'll take you to the best one first." + +He led on up the street and as they passed a stone cabin the door was +yanked violently open and then as suddenly slammed shut. + +"That's the Dutchman," grinned Bunker, "he wakes up grouchy every +morning. What did you think of that rock he showed you?" + +"Good enough," replied Denver, "it was rotten with gold. But from the +looks of the pieces it's only a stringer--I doubt if it shows any +walls." + +"No, nor anything else much," answered Bunker slightingly, "you can't +even call it a stringer. It's a kind of broken seam, going flat into the +hill--the Mexicans have been after it for years. Every time there's a +rain the Professor will go up there and wash out a little gold in the +gulch; but a Chinaman couldn't work it, and make it show a profit, if he +had to dig out his ore. Of course it's all right, if you think gold is +the ticket, but you wait till I show you this claim of mine--next to the +famous Lost Burro Mine. + +"You know the Lost Burro--there she lays, right there--and they took out +four million dollars in silver before the bonanza pinched out. At first +they hauled their ore to the Gulf of California and shipped it to +Swansea, Wales, and afterwards they built a kind of furnace and roasted +their ore right here. It was refractory ore, mixed up with zinc and +antimony; but with everything against them, and all kinds of bum +management, she paid from the very first day. All full of water now, or +I'd show you around; but some mine in its time, believe me. I wouldn't +sell it for a million dollars." + +"Five hundred is my limit," observed Denver with a grin and Bunker +slapped his leg. + +"Say," he said, "did I tell you that story about the deacon that got +stung in a horse-trade? Well, this was back east, where I used to live, +before I emigrated for the good of the country, and there was an old +Methodist deacon that was as smart as they make 'em when it came to +driving a bargain. He and the livery-stable keeper had made a few swaps +and one was about as sharp as the other; until finally it got to be a +matter of pride between 'em to cut each other's throats in some +horse-trade They would talk and haggle, and drive away and come back, +and jockey each other for months; but they always paid cash and if one +of 'em got stuck he'd trade the horse off to some woman. Well, one day +the livery-stable man drove past the deacon's house with a fine, free, +high-stepping bay; and every afternoon for about a week he'd go by at a +pretty good clip. The deacon he'd rush out and try to flag him, but the +livery-stable keeper wouldn't stop; until finally the deacon's curiosity +got the best of his judgment and he went out and laid in wait for him. + +"'How much do you want for that hoss?' he says when the livery-stable +man came to a stop. + +"'Two hundred dollars,' says the livery-stable keeper. + +"'I'll give you fifty!' barks the deacon coming out to look him over and +the livery-stable man tossed him the reins. + +"'The hoss is yours,' he says, and the deacon knowed he was stung. + +"Quick work," said Denver, "but I'm not like the deacon. I'm going to +look around." + +"Oh, sure, sure!" protested Bunker, "take all the time you want, but +this offer is only good for one week. I've got a special reason for +wanting to make a sale or I'd never let you look at this claim. Why, the +Professor himself has told me a thousand times that it's a better +proposition than the Burro, so you can see that I am making it +attractive. And I ain't pretending that I'm making you the offer for any +bull-con reason. I might say that I wanted you to do some work, or to +open up the district; but the fact of the matter is I need the five +hundred dollars. I've seen times before this war when a hundred thousand +cash wouldn't pry me loose from that claim, but now it's yours for five +hundred dollars if you honestly think it's worth it. And if you don't, +that's all right, there's no hard feeling between us and you can go and +buy from the Professor. You wasn't born yesterday and you're a good, +hard-rock miner; so enough said, there's the claim, right there." + +He waved his hand at the steep shoulder of the hill, where the canyon +had cut through the rim-rock; and as Denver looked at the formation of +the ground a gleam came into his eyes. The claim took in the silted edge +of the rim, where the strata had been laid bare, and along through the +middle of the varicolored layers there ran a broad streak of iron-red. +Into this a streak of copper-stained green had been pinched by the +lateral fault of the canyon and where the two joined--just across the +creek--was the discovery hole of the claim. + +"Let's go over and look at it," he said and, crossing the creek on the +stones, he clambered up to the hole. It was an open cut with a short +tunnel at the end and, piled up about the location monument, were some +samples of the rock. Denver picked one up and at sight of the ore he +glanced suspiciously at Bunker. + +"Where did this come from?" he asked holding up a chunk that was heavy +with silver and lead, "is this some high-grade from the famous Lost +Burro?" + +"Nope," returned Bunker, "'bout the same kind of rock, though. That +comes from the tunnel in there." + +"Like hell!" scoffed Denver with a swift look at the specimen, "and for +sale for five hundred dollars? Well, there's something funny here, +somewhere." + +He stepped into the tunnel and there, across the face, was a four inch +vein of the ore. It lay between two walls, as a fissure vein should; but +the dip was almost horizontal, following the level of the uptilted +strata. Except for that it was as ideal a prospect as a man could ask to +see--and for sale for five hundred dollars! A single ton of the ore, if +it was as rich as it looked, ought easily to net five hundred dollars. + +Denver knocked off some samples with his prospector's pick and carried +them out into the sun. + +"Why don't you work this?" he asked as he caught the gleam of native +silver in the duller gray of the lead and Old Bunk hunched his +shoulders. + +"Little out of my line," he suggested mildly, "I leave all that to the +Swedes. Say, did you ever hear that one about the Swede and the +Irishman--you don't happen to be Irish, do you?" + +"No," answered Denver and as he waited for the story he remembered what +the Professor had told him. This long, gangly Yankee, with his drooping +red mustache and his stories for every occasion, was nothing but a +store-keeper and a cowman. He knew nothing about mining or the value of +mines but like many another old-timer simply held down his claims and +waited--and to cover up his ignorance of mining he told stories about +Irishmen and Swedes. "No," said Denver, "and you're no Swede, or you'd +drift in there and see what you've got." + +"A mule can work," observed Bunker oracularly, "but here's one I heard +sprung on an Irishman. He was making a big talk about Swedes and Swede +luck, and after he'd got through a feller made the statement that the +Swedes were the greatest people in the world. + +"'In the wur-rold!' yells the Irishman, like he was out of his head, +'well, how do you figure thot out?' + +"'Well, I'll tell you,' says the feller, 'the Swedes invented the +wheel-barrow--and then they learned you Irish to stand on your hind legs +and run it!' Har, har, har; he had him going that time--the Mick +couldn't think what else to do so he went to heaving bricks." + +"Yes--sure," nodded Denver, "that was one on the Irish. But say, have +you got a clean title to this claim? Because if you have----" + +"You bet I have!" spoke up Bunker, now suddenly strictly business; but +as he waited expectantly there was a shout from the trail and Professor +Diffenderfer came rushing up. + +"Oh, I heard you!" he cried shaking a trembling fist at Bunker. "I heard +vot you said about my claim! Und now, Mister Bunk, I'll have my say--no +sir, you haf no goot title. You haf not done your yearly assessment vork +on dis or any oder claims!" + +"Say, who called you in on this?" inquired Bunker Hill coldly. "You +danged, bat-headed Dutchman, you keep butting in on my deals and I'll +forget and bust you on the jaw!" + +His long, sharp chin was suddenly thrust out, one eye had a dangerous +droop; but the Professor returned his gaze with an insolent stare and a +triumphant toss of the head. + +"Dat's all right!" he said, "you say my golt mine is a stringer--I say +your silver mine is nuttings. You haf no title, according to law, but +only by the custom of the country." + +"Well, you poor, ignorant baboon," burst out Bunker in a fury, "what +better title do you want? The claim is mine, everybody knows it and +acknowledges it; and I've got your signature, sworn before a notary +public, that the annual work was done!" + +"Just a form, just a form," returned the Professor with a shrug, "I do +like everyone else. But dis claim dat I haf--and my tunnel on the +hill--on dem the vork is done. And now, Mr. Russell, if you haf finished +looking here, I will take you to see my mine." + +"Well, I don't know," began Denver still gazing at the silver ore, "this +looks pretty good, right here." + +"But the prophecy!" exclaimed the Professor with a knowing smirk, "don't +it tell you to choose between the two? And how can you tell if you don't +even look--whether the golt or the silver is better?" + +"Aw, go down and look at it!" broke in Bunker Hill angrily as Denver +scratched his head, "go and see what he calls a mine--and if you don't +come running back and put your money in my hand you ain't the miner I +think you are. But by the holy, jumping Judas, I'm going to forget +myself some day and knock the soo-preme pip out of this Dutchman!" He +turned abruptly away and went striding back towards the town and the +Professor leered at Denver. + +"Vot I told you?" he boasted, "I ain't scared of dat mens--he promised +his vife he von't fight!" + +"Good enough," said Denver, "but don't work it too hard. Now come on and +let's look at your mine." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BIBLE-BACK MURRAY + + +As a matter of form Denver went with the Professor and inspected his +boasted mine but all the time his mind was far away and his heart was +beating fast. The vein of silver that Bunker Hill had shown him was +worth a thousand dollars anywhere; but, situated as it was on the next +claim to the Lost Burro, it was worth incalculably more. It was too good +a claim to let get away and as he listened perfunctorily to the +Professor's patter he planned how he would open it up. First he would +shoot off the face, to be sure there was no salting, and send off some +samples to the assayer; and then he would drive straight in on the vein +as long as his money lasted. And if it widened out, if it dipped and +went down, he would know for a certainty that it was the silver treasure +that good old Mother Trigedgo had prophesied. But to carry out the +prophecy, to choose well between the two, he gazed gravely at the +Professor's strip of gold-ore. + +It was a knife-blade stringer, a mere seam of rotten quartz running +along the side of a canyon; and yet not without its elements of promise, +for it was located near another big fault. In geological days the +rim-rock had been rent here as it had at Queen Creek Canyon and this +stringer of quartz might lead to a golden treasure that would far +surpass Bunker's silver. But the signs were all against it and as Denver +turned back the Professor read the answer in his eyes. + +"Vell, vat you t'ink?" he demanded insistently, "vas I right or vas I +wrong? Ain't I showed you the golt--and I'll tell you anodder t'ing, dis +mine vill pay from the start. You can pick out dat rich quartz and pack +it down to the crick and vash out the pure quill golt; but dat ore of +Old Bunk's is all mixed oop with lead and zinc, and with antimonia too. +You vil haf to buy the sacks, and pay the freight, and the smelter +charges, too; and dese custom smelters they penalize you for everyt'ing, +and cheat you out of what's left. Dey're nutting but a bunch of t'ieves +and robbers----" + +"Aw, that's all right," broke in Denver impatiently, "for cripe's sake, +give me a chance. I haven't bought your mine nor Bunk's mine either, and +it don't do any good to talk. I'm going to rake this country with a +fine-tooth comb for claims that show silver and gold, and when I've seen +'em all I'll buy or I won't, so you might as well let me alone." + +"Very vell, sir," began the Professor bristling with offended dignity +and, seeing him prepared with a long-winded explanation, Denver turned +up the hill and quit him. He clambered up to the rim, dripping with +sweat at every step, and all that day, while the heat waves blazed and +shimmered, he prospected the face of the rim-rock. The hot stones burned +his hands, he fought his way through thorns and catclaws and climbed +around yuccas and spiny cactus; but at the end of the long day, when he +dragged back to camp, he had found nothing but barren holes. The country +was pitted with open cuts and shallow prospect-holes, mostly dug to hold +down worthless claims; and the second day and the third only served to +raise his opinion of the claim that Bunker had showed him. + +On the fourth day he went back to it and prospected it thoroughly and +then he kept on around the shoulder of the hill and entered the country +to the north. Here the sedimentary rim-rock lay open as a book and as he +followed along its face he found hole after hole pecked into one +copper-stained stratum. It was the same broad stratum of quartzite +which, on coming to the creek, had dipped down into Bunker's claim; and +now Denver knew that others beside himself thought well of that +mineral-bearing vein. For the country was staked out regularly and in +each location monument there was the name Barney B. Murray. + +The steady panting of a gas-engine from somewhere in the distance drew +Denver on from point to point and at last, in the bottom of a deep-cleft +canyon, he discovered the source of the sound. Huge dumps of white waste +were spewed out along the hillside, there were houses, a big tent and +criss-crossed trails; but the only sign of life was that _chuh_, +_chuh_, of the engine and the explosive _blap_, _blaps_ +of an air compressor. It was Murray's camp, and the engine and the +compressor were driving his diamond drill. + +Denver looked about carefully for some sign of the armed guard and then, +not too noisily, he went down the trail and followed along up the gulch. +The drill, which was concealed beneath the big, conical tent, was set up +in the very notch of the canyon, where it cut through the formation of +the rim-rock; and Denver was more than pleased to see that it was fairly +on top of the green quartzite. He kept on steadily, still looking for +the guard, his prospector's pick well in front; and, just down the trail +from the tented drill, he stopped and cracked a rock. + +"Hey! Get off this ground!" shouted a voice from the tent and as Denver +looked up a man stepped out with a rifle in his hand. "What are you +doing around here?" he demanded angrily and, as Denver made no answer, +another man stepped out from behind. Then with a word to the guard he +came down the trail and Denver knew it was Murray himself. + +He was a tall, bony man with a flowing black beard and, hunched up above +his shoulders, was the rounded hump which had given him the name of +"Bible-Back." To counterbalance this curvature his head was craned back, +giving him a bristling, aggressive air, and as he strode down towards +Denver his long, gorilla arms, extended almost down to his knees. + +"What are you doing here, young man?" he challenged harshly, "don't you +know that this ground is closed?" + +"Why, no," bluffed Denver, "you haven't got any signs out. What's all +the excitement about?" + +Bible-Back Murray paused and looked him over, and his prospector's pick +and ore-sack, and a glint came into one eye. The other eye remained +fixed in a cold, rheumy stare, and Denver sensed that it was made of +glass. + +"Who are you working for?" rasped Murray and as he raised his voice the +guard started down the dump. + +"I'm not working for anybody," answered Denver boldly, "I'm out +prospecting along the edge of the rim." + +"Oh--prospecting," said Murray suddenly moderating his voice; and then, +as the guard stood watching them narrowly, he gave way to a fatherly +smile. "Well, well," he exclaimed, "it's pretty hot for prospecting--you +can't see very well in this glare. Whereabouts have you made your camp?" + +"Over on the crick," answered Denver. "What have you got here, anyway? +Is this that diamond drill?" + +"Never mind, now!" put in the guard who, anticipating a call-down for +his negligence, was in a distinctly hostile mood, "you know danged well +it is!" + +"Oh, I do, do I?" retorted Denver, "well, all right pardner, if you say +so; but you don't need to call me a liar!" + +He returned the guard's glare with an insulting sneer and Murray made +haste to intercede. + +"Now, now," he said, "let's not have any trouble. But of course you've +no business on this ground." + +"That's all right," defended Denver, "that don't give him a license to +pull any ranicky stuff. I'm as peaceable as anybody, but you can tell +your hired man he don't look bad to me." + +"That will do, Dave," nodded Murray and after another look at Denver, +the guard turned back towards the tent. + +"Judas priest," observed Denver thrusting out his lip at the guard, +"he's a regular gun-fighting boy. You must have something pretty good +hid away here somewhere, to call for a guard like that." + +"He's a dangerous man," replied Murray briefly, "I'd advise you not to +rouse him. But what do you think of our district, Mister--er----" + +"Russell," said Denver promptly, "my name is Denver Russell. I just came +over from Globe." + +"Glad to meet you," answered Murray extending a hairy hand, "my name is +B. B. Murray. I'm the owner of all this ground." + +"'S that so?" murmured Denver, "well don't let me keep you." + +And he started off down the trail. + +"Hey, wait a minute!" protested Murray, "you don't need to go off mad. +Sit down here in the shade--I want to have a talk with you." + +He stepped over to the shade of an abandoned cabin and Denver followed +reluctantly. From the few leading questions which Mr. Murray had +propounded he judged he was a hard man to evade; and, until he had got +title to the claim on Queen Creek, it was advisable not to talk too +much. + +"So you're just over from Globe, eh?" began Murray affably, "well, how +are things over in that camp? Yes, I hear they are booming--were you +working in the mines? What do you think of this country for copper?" + +"It sure looks _good_!" pronounced Denver unctuously, "I never saw +a place that looked better. All this gossan and porphyry, and that +copper stain up there--and just look at that dacite cap!" + +He waved his hand at the high cliff behind and Murray's eye became beady +and bright. + +"Yes," he said rubbing his horny hands together and gazing at Denver +benevolently, "we think the indications are good--were you thinking of +locating in these parts?" + +"No, just going through," answered Denver slowly. "I was camping by the +crick and saw that copper-stain, so I thought I'd follow it up. How far +are you down with your drill?" + +"Quite a ways, quite a ways," responded Murray evasively. "You don't +look like an ordinary prospector--who'd you say it was you were working +for?" + +Denver turned and looked at him, and grunted contemptuously. + +"J. P. Morgan," he said and after a silence Murray answered with a +thin-lipped smile. + +"That's all right, that's all right," he said with a cackle. "No hard +feeling--I just wanted to know. You're an honest young man, but there +are others who are not, and we naturally like to inquire. Are you +staying with Mr. Hill?" + +"Well, not so you'd notice it," replied Denver brusquely. "I'm camped in +that cave across the crick." + +"Oh, is that so?" purred Murray driving relentlessly on in his quest for +information, "did he show you any of his claims?" + +"He showed me one," answered Denver and, try as he would, he could not +keep his voice from changing. + +"Oh, I see," said Murray suddenly smiling triumphantly, "he showed you +that claim by the creek." + +"That's the one," admitted Denver, "and it sure looked good. Have you +got any interests over there?" + +"Not at present," returned Murray with a touch of asperity, "but let me +tell you a little about that claim. You're a stranger in these parts and +it's only fair to warn you that the assessment work has never been done. +He has no title, according to law; so you can govern your actions +accordingly." + +"You mean," suggested Denver, "that all I have to do is to go in and +jump the claim?" + +"Hell--no!" exclaimed Bible-Back startled out of his piosity. "I mean +that you had better not buy it." + +"Well, thanks," drawled Denver, "this is danged considerate of you. +Shall I tell him you'll take it yourself?" + +"Certainly not!" snapped back Murray, "I've enough claims, already. I'm +just warning you for your own good." + +"Danged considerate," repeated Denver with a sarcastic smile, "and now +let me ask _you_ something. Who told you I wanted to buy?" + +"Never mind!" returned Murray, "I've warned you, and that is enough." + +"Well, all right," agreed Denver, "but if you don't want it +yourself----" + +"Young man!" exclaimed Murray suddenly rising to his feet and crooking +his neck like a crane, "I guess you know who I am. I can make or break +any man in this country, and I'm telling you now--don't you buy!" + +"I get you," answered Denver, and without arguing the point he rose up +and went down the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +SIGNS AND OMENS + + +When a man like Bible-Back Murray, the biggest man in the country--a +sheep-owner, a store-keeper, a political power--goes out of his way to +break up a trade there is something significant behind it. Denver had +come to Pinal in response to a prophecy, in search of two hidden +treasures between which he must make his choice; and now, added to that, +was the further question of whether he should venture to oppose Murray. +If he did, he could proceed in the spirit of the prophecy and choose +between the silver and gold treasures; but if he did not there would be +no real choice at all, but simply an elimination. He must turn away from +the silver treasure, that precious vein of metal which led so temptingly +into the hill, and take the little stringer of quartz which the +Professor had offered as a gold mine. Denver thought it all over out in +front of his cave that night and at last he came back to the prophecy. + +"Courage and constancy," it said, "will attend you through life, but in +the end will prove your undoing, for you will meet your death at the +hands of your dearest friend." + +Denver's heart fell again at the thought of that hard fate but it did +not divert him from his purpose. Mother Trigedgo had said that he should +be brave, nevertheless--very well then, he would dare oppose Murray. But +now to choose between the two, between the Professor's stringer of gold +and Bunker's vein of silver--with the ill will of Murray attached. +Denver pondered them well and at last he lit a candle and referred it to +Napoleon's Oraculum. + +In the front of the Book of Fate were thirty-two questions the answers +to which, on the succeeding pages, would give counsel on every problem +of life. The questions, at first sight, seemed more adapted to love-sick +swains than to the practical problem before Denver, but he came back to +number nine. + +"Shall I be SUCCESSFUL in my present undertaking?" + +All he had to do was to decide to buy the silver claim and then put the +matter to the test. He spread a sheet of fair paper on the clear corner +of his table and made five rows of short lines across it, each +containing more than the requisite twelve marks. Then he counted each +row and, opposite every one that came even, he placed two dots; opposite +every line that came odd, one dot. This made a series of five dots, one +above the other, of which the first two were double and the last three +single, and he turned to the fateful Key. + +It was spread across two pages, a solid mass of signs and letters, +arranged in a curious order; and along the side were the numbers of the +questions, across the top the different combinations of dots. Against +the thirty-two questions there were thirty-two combinations in which the +odd and even dots could be arranged, and Denver's series was the seventh +in order. The number of his question was nine. Where the seventh line +from the side met the ninth from the top there occurred the letter O. +Denver turned to the Oraculum and on the page marked O he found +thirty-two answers, each starred with a different combination of dots. +The seventh answer from the top was the one he sought--it said: + +"Fear not, if thou are prudent." + +"Good enough!" exclaimed Denver, shutting the book with a slap; but as +he went out into the night a sudden doubt assailed him--what did it mean +by: "If thou art prudent?" + +"Fear not!" he understood, it was the first and only motto in the +bright, brief lexicon of his life; but what was the meaning of +"prudent?" Did it mean he was to refrain from opposing Old Bible-Back, +or merely that he should oppose him within reason? That was the trouble +with all these prophecies--you never could tell what they meant. Take +the silver and golden treasures--how would he know them when he saw +them? And he had to choose wisely between the two. And now, when he +referred the whole business to the Oraculum it said: "Fear not, if thou +art prudent." + +He paced up and down on the smooth ledge of rock that made up the +entrance to his home and as he sunk his head in thought a voice came up +to him out of the blackness of the town below. It was the girl again, +singing, high and clear as a flute, as pure and ethereal as an angel, +and now she was singing a song. Denver roused up and listened, then +lowered his head and tramped back and forth on the ledge. The voice came +again in a song that he knew--it was one that he had on a record--and he +paused in his impatient striding. She could sing, this girl of Bunk's, +she knew something besides scales and running up and down. It was a song +that he knew well, only he never remembered the names on the records. +They were in German and French and strange, foreign languages, while all +that he cared for was the music. He listened again, for her singing was +different; and then, as she began another operatic selection he started +off down the trail. It was a rough one at best and he felt his way +carefully, avoiding the cactus and thorns; but as he crossed the creek +he suddenly took shame and stopped in the shadow of the sycamore. + +What if the Professor, that old prowler, should come along and find him, +peeping in through Bunker's open door? What if the ray of light which +struck out through the door-frame should reveal him to the singer +within? And yet he was curious to see her. Since his first brusque +refusal to go in and meet her, Bunker had not mentioned his daughter +again--perhaps he remembered what was said. For Denver had stated that +he had plenty of music himself, if he could ever get his phonograph from +Globe. Yet he had had the instrument for nearly a week and never +unpacked the records. They were all good records, no cheap stuff or +rag-time; but somehow, with her singing, it didn't seem right to start +up a machine against her. And especially when he had refused to come +down and meet her--a fine lady, practicing for grand opera. + +He sat down in the black shadow of the mighty sycamore and strained his +ears to hear; but a chorus of tree-frogs, silenced for the moment by his +coming, drowned the music with their eerie refrain. He hurled a rock +into the depths of the pool and the frog chorus ceased abruptly, but the +music from the house had been clearer from his cave-mouth than it was +from the bed of the creek. For half an hour he sat, gazing out into the +ghostly moonlight for some sign of the snooping Diffenderfer; and then +by degrees he edged up the trail until he stood in the shadow of the +store. The music was impressive--it was Marguerite's part, in "Faust," +sung consecutively, aria by aria--and as Denver lay listening it +suddenly came over him that life was tragic and inexorable. He felt a +great longing, a great unrest, a sense of disaster and despair; and then +abruptly the singing ceased, and with it passed the mood. + +There was a murmur of voices, a strumming on the piano, a passing of +shadows to and fro; and then from the doorway there came gay and +spritely music--and at last a song that he knew. Denver listened +intently, trying to remember the record which had contained this lilting +air. He had it--the "Barcarolle," the boat-song from the "Tales of +Hoffmann!" And she was singing the words in English. He left the shadow +and stepped out into the open, forgetful of everything but the singer, +and the words came out to him clearly. + + "Night divine, O night of love, + O smile on our enchantment; + Moon and stars keep watch above + This radiant night of love!" + +She came to the end, riding up and down in an ecstatic series of "Ahs!" +and as the song floated away into piano and pianissimo Denver braved the +light to see her. + +She was standing by the piano, swaying like a flower to the music; and a +lamp behind made her face like a cameo, her hair like a mass of gold. +That was all he saw in the swift, stolen moment before he retreated in a +panic to his cave. It was she, the beautiful woman that the seeress had +predicted, the one he should fall in love with! She had won his heart +before he even saw her, but how could he hope to win her? She was a +singer, an artist as Mother Trigedgo had said, and he was a hobo miner. +He stood by his cavern looking down on the town and up at the moon and +stars and the words of her song came back to his ears in a continual, +haunting refrain. + + "Ah! smile on our enchantment, + Night of Love, O night of love! + Ah, Ah! Ah, Ah! Ah, Ah! Ah, Ah!" + +It floated away in a lilting diminuendo, a joyous, mocking refrain; and +long after the night was quiet again the music still ran through his +head. It possessed him, it broke his sleep, it followed him in dreams; +and with it all went the vision of the singer, surrounded like St. +Cecilia with a golden halo of light. He woke up at dawn with a fire in +his brain, a tumult of unrest in his breast; and like a buck when he +feels the first sting of a wound he turned his face towards the heights. +The valley seemed to oppress him, to cabin him in; but up on the cliffs +where the eagles soared there was space and the breath of free winds. He +toiled up tirelessly, a fierce energy in his limbs, a mill-race of +thoughts in his mind, and at last on the summit he turned and looked +down on the house that sheltered his beloved. + +She was the woman, he knew it, for his heart had told him long before he +had thought of the prophecy; and now the choice between the gold and +silver treasures seemed as nothing compared to winning her. Of all the +admonitions which had been laid upon him by the words of the Cornish +seeress, none seemed more onerous than this about the woman that he +would love. + +"You will fall in love with a beautiful woman who is an artist," Mother +Trigedgo had written, "but beware how you reveal your affection or she +will confer her hand upon another." + +On another! This woman, whom he had worshipped from the moment he had +seen her, would flaunt him if he revealed his love! That was the thought +which had tortured him and driven him to the heights, where he could +wrestle with his problem alone. How could he meet her without her +reading in his eyes the secret he must not reveal? And yet he was +possessed with a mad desire to see her--to see her and hear her sing. +All her scales and roulades, her runs and trills, had passed by him like +so much smoke; but when the mood had come and she had sung her +song-of-songs he had lost his heart to her instantly. But if, in her +presence, he revealed this new love she would confer her hand upon +another! + +He stood on the edge of Apache Leap and gazed down at the valley below, +then he looked far away where peak piled on peak and the desert sloped +away to the horizon. It was hot, barren land, every ridge spiked with +giant cactus, every gulch a bruising tangle of brush and rocks; but +Pinal lay sleeping in the cool shadow of the Leap, and Drusilla slept +there too. But who would think to look for her in a place like that, or +for the treasures of silver and gold? The finger of destiny had pointed +him plain, for he stood on the Place of Death. It was lifeless yet, save +for the uneasy eagles who watched him from a splintered crag; and the +clean, black shadow that lapped out over the plain held the woman and +the treasures in its compass. + +A sense of awe, of religious exaltation, came over Denver as he +considered the prophecy, and from somewhere within him there came a new +strength which stilled the fierce tumult in his breast. Since the stars +had willed it that he should have this woman if he veiled his love from +her eyes he would be brave then, and constant, and steel his boy's heart +to resist her matchless charms. He would watch over her from afar, +feeding his love in secret, and when the time came he would reap his +reward and the prophecy would be fulfilled. And while he stood aloof, +stealing a glimpse of her at night or listening to the magic of her +songs; he must win the two treasures, both the silver and the gold, to +lay as an offering at her feet. + +The shadow of the Leap drew back from the town, leaving the houses +sun-struck and bare, and as his mind went back to the choice between the +treasures he watched the moving objects below. He saw a steer wandering +down the empty street, and Old Bunk going across to the store; and then +in the walled garden that lay behind the house he beheld a woman's form. +It was draped in white and it moved about rhythmically, bending slowly +from side to side; and then with the graceful ethereal lightness it +leapt and whirled in a dance. In the profundity of the distance all was +lost but the grace of it, the fairy-like flitting to and fro; and, as +Denver watched, the tears leapt to his eyes at the thought of her +perfect beauty. + +She was a woman from another world, which a horny-handed miner could +hardly hope to enter; yet if he won the two treasures, which would make +them both rich, the doors would swing open before him. All it needed was +a wise choice between the silver and the gold, and destiny would attend +to the rest. Well--if he chose the gold he would offend her own father, +who was urgently in need of funds; and if he chose the silver he would +offend Bible-Back Murray, and Diffenderfer as well. He considered the +two claims from every standpoint, looking hopefully about for some sign; +and as he stepped to the edge and looked down into the depths, the male +eagle left his crag. + +Riding high on the wind which, striking against the face of the cliff, +floated him up into the spaces above; he wheeled in a smooth circle, +turning his head from side to side as he watched the invader of his +eyrie. And at each turn of his head Denver caught the flash of gold, +though he was loath to accept it as a sign. He waited, fighting against +it, marshaling reasons to sustain him; and then, folding his wings, the +eagle descended like a plummet, shooting past him with a shrill, defiant +scream. Denver flinched and stepped back, then he leaned forward eagerly +to watch where the bird's flight would take him. No Roman legionary, +going into unequal battle with his war eagle wheeling above its +standard, ever watched its swift course with higher hopes or believed +more fully in the omen. The eagle spread his wings and glided off to the +west, flying low as he approached the plain; and as he passed over Pinal +and the claim by Queen Creek, Denver laughed and slapped his leg. + +"It's a go!" he exulted, "the silver wins!" + +And he bounded off down the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE LADY OF THE SYCAMORES + + +A weight like that of Pelion and Ossa seemed lifted from Denver's +shoulders as he hurried down from Apache Leap and, with his wallet in +his hip pocket, he strode straight to Bunker's house. The eagle had +chosen for him, and chosen right, and the last of his troubles was over. +There was nothing to do now but buy the claim and make it into a +mine--and that was the easiest thing he did. Pulling ground was his +specialty--with a good man to help he could break his six feet a +day--and now that the choice had been made between the treasures he was +tingling to get to work. + +"Here's your money," he said as soon as Bunker appeared, "and I'd like +to order some powder and steel. Just write me out a quit-claim for that +ground." + +"Well, well," beamed Bunker pushing up his reading glasses and counting +over the roll of bills, "this will make quite a stake for Drusilla. Come +in, Mr. Russell, come in!" + +He held the door open and Denver entered, blinking his eyes as he came +in from the glare. The room was a large one, with a grand piano at one +end and music and books strewn about; and as Bunker Hill shouted for his +wife and daughter Denver stared about in astonishment. From the outside +the house was like any other, except that it was covered with vines; but +here within it was startling in its elegance, fitted up with every +luxury. There was a fireplace with bronze andirons, massive furniture, +expensive rugs; and the walls were lined with stands and book-shelves +that overflowed with treasures. + +"Oh Drusilla!" thundered Bunker and at last she came running, bounding +in through the garden door. She was attired in a filmy robe, caught up +for dancing, and her feet were in Grecian sandals; and at sight of +Denver she drew back a step, then stood firm and glanced at her father. + +"Here's that five hundred dollars," said Bunker briefly and put the roll +in her hand. + +"Oh--did you sell it?" she demanded in dismay "did you sell that Number +One claim?" + +"You bet I did," answered her father grimly, "so take your money and +beat it." + +"But I told you not to!" she went on reproachfully, ignoring Denver +entirely. "I told you not to sell it!" + +"That's all right," grumbled Bunker, "you're going to get your chance, +if it takes the last cow in the barn. I know you've got it in you to be +a great singer--and this'll take you back to New York." + +"Well, all right," she responded tremulously, "I did want just one more +chance. But if I don't succeed I'm going to teach school and pay every +dollar of this back." + +She turned and disappeared out the garden door and Bunker Hill reached +for his hat. + +"Come on over to the store," he said and Denver followed in a daze. She +was not like any woman he had ever dreamed of, nor was she the woman he +had thought. In the night, when she was singing, she had seemed slender +and ethereal with her swan's neck and piled up hair; but now she was +different, a glorious human animal, strong and supple yet with the lines +of a girl. And her eyes were still the eyes of a child, big and round +and innocently blue. + +"Here comes the Professor," muttered Bunker gloomily, as he unlocked the +heavy door, "he's hep, I reckon, the way he walks." + +The Professor was waddling with his queer, duck-like steps down the +middle of the deserted street and every movement of his gunboat feet was +eloquent of offended dignity. + +"Vell," he began as he burst into the store and stopped in front of +Denver, "I vant an answer, right avay, on dat property I showed you the +udder day. I joost got a letter from a chentleman in Moroni inquiring +about an option on dat claim and----" + +"You can give it to him," cut in Denver, "I've just closed with Mr. Hill +for that Number One claim up the crick." + +"So!" exploded the Professor, "vell, I vish you vell of it!" And he +flung violently out the door. + +"Takes it hard," observed Bunker, "never was a good loser. You want to +watch out for him, now--he's going over to report to Murray." + +"So that's the combination," nodded Denver. "I was over there yesterday +and Murray knew all about me--gave me a tip not to buy this property." + +"Danged right he's working for him," returned Old Bunk grimly. "He runs +to him with everything he hears. It's a wonder I haven't killed that +little tub of wienies--he crabs every trade I start to make. What's the +matter with Old Bible-Back now?" + +"Oh, nothing," answered Denver, "but if it's all the same to you I'd +like to just locate that ground. Then I'll do my discovery work and if +there ever comes up a question I'll have your quit-claim to boot." + +"Suit yourself," growled Bunker, "but I want to tell you right now I've +got a perfect title to that property. I've held it continuously for +fifteen years and----" + +"Give me a quit-claim then; because Murray questions your title and I +don't want to take any chances. He says you haven't kept up your work." + +"He does, hey!" challenged Bunker thrusting out his jaw belligerently, +"well, I'd like to see somebody jump me. I'm living on my property, and +possessory title is the very best title there is. By grab, if I thought +that Mormon-faced old devil was thinking of jumping my ground----" He +went off into uneasy mutterings and wrote out the quit-claim absently; +then they went up together and, after going over the lines, Denver +relocated the mine and named it the Silver Treasure. + +"Think you guessed right, do you?" inquired Bunker with a grin. "Well, I +hope you make a million. And if you do you'll never hear no kick from +me--you've bought it and paid my price." + +"Fair enough!" exclaimed Denver and shook hands on the trade, after +which he bought some second-hand tools and went to work on a trail. Not +a hundred feet down-stream from where the vein cropped out, the main +trail crossed to the east side of the creek, leaving the mine on the +side of a steep hill. A few days' work, while he was waiting for his +powder, would clear out the worst of the cactus and catclaws and give +him free access to his hole. Then he could clean out the open cut, set +up a little forge and prepare for the driving of his tunnel. The sun was +blazing hot, not a breath of wind was stirring and the sweat splashed +the rocks as he toiled; but there was a song in Denver's heart that made +his labors light and he hummed the "Barcarolle" as he worked. She was +scornful of him now and thought only of her music; but the time would +come when she would know him as her equal, for a miner can be an artist, +too. And at swinging a double-jack or driving uppers Denver Russell was +as good as any man. He worked for the joy of it and took pride in his +craft--and that marks the true artist everywhere. + +Yet now that his sale had been consummated and he had the money he +needed, Bunker Hill suddenly lost all interest in Denver and retired +into his shell. He had invited Denver once to come down to his house and +share the hospitality of his home; but, after Denver's brusque, almost +brutal refusal, Old Bunk had never been the same. He had shown Denver +his claim and stated the price and told a few stories on the side, but +he had shown in many ways that his pride had been hurt and that he did +not fully approve. This was made the more evident by the careful way in +which he avoided introducing his wife; and it became apparent beyond a +doubt in that tense ecstatic minute when Drusilla had come in from the +garden. + +Then, if ever, was the moment when Denver should have been introduced; +but Bunker had pointedly neglected the opportunity and left him still a +stranger. And all as a reward for his foolish words and his refusal of +well-meaning hospitality. Denver realized it now, but his pride was +touched and he refrained from all further advances. If he was not good +enough to know Old Bunker's family he was not good enough to associate +with him; and so for three days he lived without society, for the +Professor, too, was estranged. He passed Denver now with eyes fixed +straight ahead, refusing even to recognize his presence; and, cut off +for the time from all human intercourse, Denver turned at last to his +phonograph. + +The stars had come out in the velvety black sky, the hot stillness of +evening had come, and from the valley below no sound came up but the +eerie, _eh_, _eh_, _eh_, of tree toads. They were sitting +by the stream and in cracks among the rocks, puffing out their pouched +throats like toy balloons and raising, a shrill, haunting chorus. Their +thin voices intermingled in an insistent, unearthly refrain as if the +spirits of the dead had come again to gibber by the pool. Even the +scales and trills of Drusilla had ceased, so hot and close was the +night. + +Denver set up his phonograph with its scrollwork front and patent filing +cases and looked over the records which he had bought at great expense +while the other boys were buying jazz. He was proud of them all but the +one he valued most he reserved for another time. It was the "Barcarolle" +from "Les Contes D' Hoffmann," sung by Farrar and Scotti, and he put on +instead a tenor solo that had cost him three dollars in Globe. Then a +violin solo, "Tambourin Chinois," by some man with a foreign name; and +at last the record that he liked the best, the "Cradle Song," by +Schumann-Heink. And as he played it again he saw Drusilla come out and +stand in the doorway, listening. + +It was a beautiful song, very sweet, very tender, and sung with the +feeling of an artist; yet something about it seemed to displease +Drusilla, for she turned and went into the house. Perhaps, hearing the +song, she was reminded of the singers, stepping forward in a blare of +trumpets to meet the applause of vast audiences; or perhaps again she +felt the difference between her efforts and theirs; but all the next +day, when she should have been practicing, Drusilla was strangely +silent. Denver paused in his work from time to time as he listened for +the familiar roulades, then he swung his heavy sledge as if it were a +feather-weight and beat out the measured song of steel on steel. He +picked and shoveled, tearing down from above and building up the trail +below; and as he worked he whistled the "Cradle Song," which was running +through his brain. But as he swung the sledge again he was conscious of +a presence, of someone watching from the sycamores; and, glancing down +quickly he surprised Drusilla, looking up from among the trees. She met +his eyes frankly but he turned away, for he remembered what the seeress +had told him. So he went about his work and when he looked again his +lady of the sycamores had fled. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +STEEL ON STEEL + + +The stifling summer heat fetched up wind from the south and thundercaps +crowned the high peaks; then the rain came slashing and struck up the +dust before it lifted and went scurrying away. The lizards gasped for +breath, Drusilla ceased to sing, all Pinal seemed to palpitate with +heat; but through heat and rain one song kept on--Denver's song of steel +on steel. In the cool of his tunnel he drove up-holes and down, slugging +manfully away until his round of holes was done and then shooting away +the face. As the sun sank low he sat on the dump, sorting and sacking +the best of his ore; and one evening as he worked Drusilla came by, +walking slowly as if in deep thought. + +He was down on his knees, a single-jack in his right hand a pile of +quartzite at his left, and as she came to the forks he went on cracking +rocks without so much as a stare. She glanced at him furtively, looked +back towards the town, then turned off and came up his trail. + +"Good evening," she began and as he nodded silently she seemed at a loss +for words. "--I just wanted to ask you," she burst out hurriedly, "if +you'd be willing to sell back the mine? I brought up the money with me." + +She drew out the sweaty roll of bills which he had paid to her father +and as Denver looked up she held it out to him, then clutched it +convulsively back. + +"I don't mean," she explained, "that you have to take it. But I thought +perhaps--oh, is it very rich? I'm sorry I let him sell it." + +"Why, no," answered Denver with his slow, honest smile, while his heart +beat like a trip-hammer in his breast, "it isn't so awful rich. But I +bought it, you know--well, I was sent here!" + +"What, by Murray?" she cried aghast, "did he send you in to buy it?" + +"Don't you think it!" returned Denver. "I'm working for myself +and--well, I don't want to sell." + +"No, but listen," she pleaded, her eyes beginning to fill, "I--I made a +great mistake. This was father's best claim, he shouldn't have sold it; +and so--won't you sell it back?" + +She smiled, and Denver reached out blindly to accept the money, but at a +thought he drew back his hand. + +"No!" he said, "I was sent, you know--a fortune-teller told me to dig +here." + +"Oh, did he?" she exclaimed in great disappointment. "Won't some other +claim do just as well? No, I don't mean that; but--tell me how it all +came about." + +"Well," began Denver, avoiding her eyes; and then he rose up abruptly +and brushed off the top of a powder-box. "Sit down," he said, "I'd sure +like to accommodate you, but here's how I come to buy it. There's a +woman over in Globe--Mother Trigedgo is her name--and she saved the +lives of a lot of us boys by predicting a cave in a mine. Well, she told +my fortune and here's what she said: + +"You will soon make a journey to the west and there, within the shadow +of a place of death, you will find two treasures, one of silver and the +other of gold. Choose well between them and both shall be yours, +but--well, I don't need to tell you the rest. But this is my choice, +see? And so, of course----" + +"Oh, do you believe in those people?" she inquired incredulously, "I +thought----" + +"But not this one!" spoke up Denver stoutly, "I know that the most of +them are fakes. But this Mother Trigedgo, she's a regular seeress--and +it's all come true, every word! Apache Leap up there is the place of +death. I came west after that fellow that robbed me; and this mine here +and that gold prospect of the Professor's are both in the shadow of the +peaks!" + +"But maybe you guessed wrong," she cried, snatching at a straw. "Maybe +this isn't the one, after all. And if it isn't, oh, won't you let me buy +it back for father? Because I'm not going to New York, after all." + +"Well, what good would it do _him_?" burst out Denver vehemently. +"He's had it for fifteen years! If he thought so much of it why didn't +he work it a little and ship out a few sacks of ore?" + +"He's not a miner," protested Drusilla weakly and Denver grunted +contemptuously. + +"No," he said, "you told the truth that time--and that's what the matter +with the whole district. The ground is all held by lead-pencil work and +nobody's doing any digging. And now, when I come in and begin to find +some ore, your old man wants his mining claim back." + +"He does not!" retorted Drusilla, "he doesn't know I'm up here. But he +hasn't been the same since he sold his claim, and I want to buy it back. +He sold it to get the money to send me to New York, and it was all an +awful mistake. I can never become a great singer." + +"No?" inquired Denver, glad to change the subject, "I thought you were +doing fine. That evening when you----" + +"Well, so did I!" she broke in, "until you played all those records; and +then it came over me I couldn't sing like that if I tried a thousand +years. I just haven't got the temperament. Those continental people have +something that we lack--they're so Frenchy, so emotional, so full of +fire! I've tried and I've tried and I just can't do it--I just can't +interpret those parts!" + +She stamped her foot and winked very fast and Denver forgot he was a +stranger. He had heard her sing so often that he seemed to know her +well, to have known her for years and years, and he ventured a +comforting word. + +"Oh well, you're young yet," he suggested shame-facedly, "perhaps it +will come to you later." + +"No, it won't!" she flared back, "I've got to give it up and go to +teaching school!" + +She stomped her foot more impatiently than ever and Denver went to +cracking rocks. + +"What do you think of that?" he inquired casually, handing over a chunk +of ore; but she gazed at it uncomprehendingly. + +"Isn't there anything I can do?" she began at last, "that will make you +change your mind? I might give you this much money now and then pay you +more later, when I go to teaching school." + +"Well, what do you want it back for?" he demanded irritably, "it's been +lying here idle for years. I'd think you'd be glad to have somebody get +hold of it that would do a little work." + +"I just want to give it back--and have it over with!" she exclaimed with +an embittered smile. "I've practiced and I've practiced but it doesn't +do any good, and now I'm going to quit." + +"Oh, if that's all," jeered Denver, "I'll locate another claim, and let +you give that back. What good would it do him if you did give it +back--he'd just sit in the shade and tell stories." + +"Don't you talk that way about my father!" she exclaimed, "he's the +nicest, kindest man that ever lived! He's not strong enough to work in +this awful hot weather but he intended to open this up in the fall." + +"Well, it's opened up already," announced Denver grimly. "You just show +him that piece of rock." + +"Oh, have you found something?" she cried snatching up the chunk of ore. +"Why, this doesn't look like silver!" + +"No, it isn't," he said, and at the look in his eyes she leapt up and +ran down the trail. + +She came back immediately with her father and mother and, after a moment +of pop-eyed staring, the Professor came waddling along behind. + +"Where'd you get this?" called Bunker as he strode up the trail and +Denver jerked his thumb towards the tunnel. + +"At the breast," he said. "Looks pretty good, don't it? I _thought_ +it would run into copper!" + +"Vot's dat? Vot's dat?" clamored the Professor from the fork of the +trail and Bunker gave Denver the wink. + +"Aw, that ain't copper," he declared, "it's just this green hornblende. +We have it around here everywhere." + +"All right", answered Denver, "you can have it your own way--but I call +it copper, myself." + +"Vot--_copper_?" demanded the Professor making a clutch at the +specimen and examining it with his myopic eyes, and then he broke into a +roar. "Vot--dat copper?" he cried, "you think dat is copper? Oh, ho, ho! +Oh, vell! Dis is pretty rich. It is nutting but manganese!" + +"That's all right," returned Denver, "you can think whatever you please; +but I've worked underground in too many copper mines----" + +"Where'd you get this?" broke in Bunker, giving Denver a dig, and as +they went into the tunnel he whispered in his ear: "Keep it dark, or +he'll blab to Murray!" + +"Well, let him blab," answered Denver, "it's nothing to me. But all the +same, pardner," he added _sotto voce_, "if I was in your place I +wouldn't bank too much on holding them claims with a lead-pencil." + +"I'm holding 'em with a six-shooter," corrected Bunker, "and Murray or +nobody else don't dare to jump a claim. I'm known around these parts." + +"Suit yourself," shrugged Denver as they came to the face, "I guess this +ore won't start no stampede. That seam in the hanging wall is where it +comes in--I'm looking for the veins to come together." + +"Judas priest!" exclaimed Bunker jabbing his candlestick into the copper +streak, "say, this is showing up good. And your silver vein is widening +out, too. Nothing to it, boy; you've got a mine!" + +"Not yet," said Denver, "but wait till she dips. This is nothing but a +blanket vein, so far; but if she dips and goes down then look out, +old-timer, she's liable to turn out a bonanza." + +"Well, who'd a thought it," murmured Old Bunk turning somberly away, +"and I've been holding her for fifteen years!" + +He led the way out, stooping down to avoid the roof; and outside the +stoop still remained. + +"Where's the Professor?" he asked, suddenly looking about, "has he gone +to tell Murray, already? Well, by grab then, he knew it was." + +"Oh, _was_ it copper?" quavered Drusilla catching hold of his hand +and looking up into his tired eyes, "and you sold it for five hundred +dollars! But that's all right," she smiled, drawing his head down for a +kiss. "I'll just have to succeed now--and I'm going to!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +SWEDE LUCK + + +As the sun set that evening in a trailing blaze of glory Denver Russell +came out and sat with bared arms, looking lazily down at the town. The +news of his strike had roused them at last, these easy-going, do-nothing +old-timers; and now, from an outcast, a crack-brained hobo miner, he was +suddenly accepted as an equal. They spoke to him, they recognized him, +they rushed up to his mine and stared at the ore he had dug; and even +the Professor had purloined a specimen to take over and show to Murray. +And all because, while the rest of them loafed, he had drifted in on his +vein until he cut the stringer of copper. It was Swede luck again--the +luck of that great people who invented the wheel-barrow, and taught the +Irish to stand erect and run it. + +Denver could smile a little, grimly, as he recalled Old Bunker's stories +and his fleering statement that a mule could work; but, now that he had +struck copper at the breast of his tunnel, the mule was suddenly a +gentleman. He was good enough to speak to, and for Bunker's daughter to +speak to, and for his wife to invite to supper; and all on account of a +vein of copper that was scarcely two inches thick. It was rich and it +widened out, instead of pinching off as a typical gash-vein would; and +while it would take a fortune to develop it, it was copper, and copper +was king. Silver and gold mines were nothing now, for silver was down +and gold was losing its purchasing power; but the mining journals were +full of articles about copper, and it had risen to thirty cents a pound. + +Thirty cents, when a few years ago it had dropped as low as eleven! And +it was still going up, for the munition factories were clamoring for it +and the speculators were bidding up futures. Even Bible-Back Murray, who +had a reputation as a pincher, had suddenly become prodigal with his +money and was working day and night, trying to tap a hidden copper +deposit. He had caught the contagion, the lure of tremendous profits, +and he was risking his all on the venture. What would he have to say now +if his diamond drill tapped nothing and a hobo struck it rich over at +Queen Creek? Well, he could say what he pleased, for Denver was +determined not to sell for a million dollars. He had come there with a +purpose, in answer to a prophecy, and there yet remained to win the +golden treasure and the beautiful woman who was an artist. + +Every little thing was coming as the seeress had predicted--good Old +Mother Trigedgo with her cards and astrology--and all that was necessary +was to follow her advice and the beautiful Drusilla would be his. He +must treat her at first like any young country girl, as if she had no +beauty or charm; and then in some way, unrevealed as yet, he would win +her love in return. He had schooled himself rigidly to resist her +fascination, but when she had looked up at him with her beseeching blue +eyes and asked him to sell back the mine, only a miracle of intercession +had saved him from yielding and accepting back the five hundred dollars. +He was like clay in her hands--her voice thrilled him, her eyes dazzled +him, her smile made him forget everything else--yet just at the moment +when he had reached out for the money the memory of the prophecy had +come back to him. And so he had refused, turning a deaf ear to her +entreaties, and scoffing at her easy-going father; and she had gone off +down the trail without once looking back, promising Bunker she would +become a great singer. + +Denver smiled again dreamily as he dwelt upon her beauty, her hair like +fine-spun gold, her eyes that mirrored every thought; and with it all, a +something he could not name that made his heart leap and choke him. He +could not speak when she first addressed him, his brain had gone into a +whirl; and so he had sat there, like a great oaf of a miner, and refused +to give her anything. It was rough, yet the Cornish seeress had required +it; and doubtless, being a woman herself, she understood the feminine +heart. At the end of his long reverie Denver sighed again, for the ways +of astrologers were beyond him. + +In the morning he rose early, to muck out the rock and clear the tunnel +for a new round of holes; and each time as he came out with a +wheel-barrow full of waste he cocked his eye to the west. Bible-Back +Murray would be coming over soon, if he was still at his camp around the +hill. Yet the second day passed before he arrived, thundering in from +the valley in his big, yellow car; and even then he made some purchases +at the store before he came up to the mine. + +"Good morning!" he hailed cheerily, "they tell me you've struck ore. +Well, well; how does the vein show up?" + +"'Bout the same," mumbled Denver and glanced at him curiously. He had +expected a little fireworks. + +"About the same, eh?" repeated Murray, flicking his rebellious glass +eye, which had a tendency to stare off to one side, "is this a sample of +your ore? Well, I will say, it looks promising--would you mind if I go +into the tunnel?" + +"Nope," returned Denver; and then, after a moment's pause: "How's that +gun-man of yours getting along?" + +"Oh, Dave? He's all right. I'll ask you over sometime and let you get +better acquainted." + +"Never mind," answered Denver, "I know him all I want to. And if I catch +him on my ground I'll sure make him jump--I don't like the way he talked +to me." + +"Well, he's rough, but he's good hearted," observed Murray pacifically. +"I'm sorry he spoke to you that way--shall we go in now and look at the +vein?" + +Denver grunted non-committally and led Murray into the tunnel, which had +turned now to follow the ore. Whatever his game was it was too deep for +Denver, so he looked on in watchful silence. Murray seemed well +acquainted with mining--he looked at the foot-wall and hanging-wall and +traced out the course of both veins; and then, without offering to take +any samples, he turned and went out to the dump. + +"Yes, very good," he said, but without any enthusiasm, "it certainly +looks very promising. Well, good day, Mr. Russell; much obliged." + +He started down the trail, leaving Denver staring, and then he turned +hurriedly back. + +"Oh, by the way," he said, "I buy and sell ore. When you get enough +sacked you might send it down by McGraw and I'll give you a credit at +the store." + +"Yes, all right," assented Denver and stood looking after him till he +cranked up and went roaring away. Not a word about the title, nothing +said about his warning; and no mention made of his well-known ability to +break any man in the county. The facts, apparently, were all that +interested him then--but he might make an offer later. When the vein was +opened up and he had made his first shipment, when it began to look like +a mine! Denver went back to work and as he drove in day by day he was +careful to save all the ore. + +He hadn't had it assayed, because assaying is expensive and his supplies +had cost more than he expected, but from the size of the button when he +made his rough fire-tests, he knew that it ran high in silver. Probably +eight hundred ounces, besides the lead; and he had sorted out nearly a +ton. About the time he was down to his bottom dollar he would ship and +get another grub-stake. Then, when that was gone, if his vein opened up, +he would ship to the smelter direct; but the first small shipment could +be easier handled by a man who made it a business. Of course Murray +would gouge him, and overcharge him on everything, but the main idea was +to get Denver to start an account and take that much trade away from +Hill. Denver figured it all out and then let it pass, for there were +other things on his mind. + +On the evening of his strike the house below had been silent; but early +the next morning she had begun again, only this time she was not singing +scales. It was grand opera now, in French and Italian; with brilliant +runs and trills and high, sustained crescendos that seemed almost to +demand applause; and high-pitched, agitato recitatives. She was running +through the scores of the standard operas--"La Traviata," "Il +Trovatore," "Martha"--but as the week wore along she stopped singing +again and Denver saw her down among the sycamores. She paid no attention +to him, wandering up and down the creek bed or sitting in gloomy silence +by the pools; but at last as he stood at the mouth of his tunnel +breaking ore with the great hammer he loved, she came out on the trail +and gazed across at him wistfully, though he feigned not to notice her +presence. He was young and vigorous, and the sledge hammer was his toy; +and as Drusilla, when she was practicing, gloried in the range of her +voice and her effortless bravuras and trills, so Denver, swinging his +sledge, felt like Thor of old when he broke the rocks with his blows. +Drusilla gazed at him and sighed and walked pensively past him, then +returned and came back up his trail. + +"Good evening," she said and Denver greeted her with a smile for he saw +that her mood was friendly. She had resented, at first, his brusque +refusal and his rough, straight-out way of speaking; but she was lonely +now, and he knew in his heart that all was not well with her singing. + +"You like to work, don't you?" she went on at last as he stood sweating +and dumb in her presence, "don't you ever get tired, or anything?" + +"Not doing this," he said, "I'm a driller, you know, and I like to keep +my hand in. I compete in these rock-drilling contests." + +"Oh, yes, father was telling me," she answered quickly. "That's where +you won all that money--the money to buy the mine." + +"Yes, and I've won other money before," he boasted. "I won first place +last year in the single-handed contest--but that's too hard on your arm. +You change about, you know, in the double-handed work--one strikes while +the other turns--but in single jacking it's just hammer, hammer, hammer, +until your arm gets dead to the shoulder." + +"It must be nice," she suggested with a half-concealed sigh, "to be able +to make money so easily. Have you always been a miner?" + +"No, I was raised on a ranch, up in Colorado--but there's lots more +money in mining. I don't work by the day, I take contracts by the foot +where there's difficult or dangerous work. Sometimes I make forty +dollars a day. There's a knack about mining, like everything +else--you've got to know just how to drive your holes in order to break +the most ground--but give me a jack-hammer and enough men to muck out +after me and I can sink from sixteen to twenty feet a day, depending on +the rock. But here, of course, I'm working lone-handed and only make +about three feet a day." + +"Oh," she murmured with a mild show of interest and Denver picked up his +hammer. Mother Trigedgo had warned him not to be too friendly, and now +he was learning why. He set out a huge fragment that had been blasted +from the face and swung his hammer again. + +"Did you ever hear the 'Anvil Chorus'?" she asked watching him +curiously. "It's in the second act of 'Il Trovatore.'" + +"Sure!" exclaimed Denver, "I heard Sousa's band play it! I've got it on +a record somewhere." + +"No, but in a real opera--you'd be fine for that part. They have a row +of anvils around the back of the stage and as the chorus sing the gypsy +blacksmiths beat out the time by striking with their hammers. Back in +New York last year there was a perfectly huge man and he had a hammer as +big as yours that he swung with both hands while he sang. You reminded +me of him when I saw you working--don't you get kind of lonely, +sometimes?" + +"Too busy," replied Denver turning to pick up another rock, "don't have +time for anything like that." + +"Well, I wish I was that way," she sighed after a silence and Denver +smote ponderously at the rock. + +"Why don't you work?" he asked at last and Drusilla's eyes flashed fire. + +"I do!" she cried, "I work all the time! But that doesn't do me any +good. It's all right, perhaps, if you're just breaking rocks, or digging +dirt in some mine; but I'm trying to become a singer and you can't +succeed that way--work will get you only so far!" + +"'S that so!" murmured Denver, and at the unspoken challenge the +brooding resentment of Drusilla burst forth. + +"Yes, it is!" she exclaimed, "and, just because you've struck ore, that +doesn't prove that you're right in everything. I've worked and I've +worked, and that's all the good it's done me--I'm a failure, in spite of +everything." + +"Oh, I don't know," responded Denver with a superior smile, "you've +still got your five hundred dollars. A man is never whipped till he +thinks he's whipped--why don't you go back and take a run at it?" + +"Oh, what's the use of talking?" she cried jumping up, "when you don't +know a thing about it? I've tried and I've tried and the best I could +ever do was to get a place in the chorus. And there you simply ruin your +voice without even getting a chance of recognition. Oh, I get so +exasperated to see those Europeans who are nothing but big, spoiled +children go right into a try-out and take a part away from me that I +know I can render perfectly. But that's it, you see, they're perfectly +undisciplined, but they can throw themselves into the part; and the +director just takes my name and address and says he'll call me up if he +needs me." + +Denver grunted and said nothing and as he swung his hammer again the +leash to her passions gave way. + +"Yes, and I hate you!" she burst out, "you're so big and self-satisfied. +But I guess if you were trying to break into grand opera you wouldn't be +quite so intolerant!" + +"No?" commented Denver stopping to shift his grip and she stamped her +foot in fury. + +"No, you wouldn't!" she cried half weeping with rage as she contemplated +the wreck of her hopes, "don't you know that Mary Garden and +Schumann-Heink and Geraldine Farrar and all of them, that are now our +greatest stars, had to starve and skimp and wait on the impresarios +before they could get their chance? There's a difference between digging +a hole in the ground and moving a great audience to tears; so just +because you happen to be succeeding right now, don't think that you know +it all!" + +"All right," agreed Denver, "I'll try to remember that. And of course +I'm nothing but a miner. But there's one thing, and I know it, about all +those great stars--they didn't any of them quit. They might have been +hungry and out of a job but they never _quit_, or they wouldn't be +where they are." + +"Oh, they didn't, eh?" she mocked looking him over with slow scorn. "And +I suppose that _you_ never quit, either?" + +"No, I never did," answered Denver truthfully. "I've never laid down +yet." + +"Well, you're young yet," she said mimicking his patronizing tones, +"perhaps that will come to you later." + +She smiled with her teeth and stalked off down the trail, leaving Denver +with something to think about. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE STRIKE + + +Denver Russell _was_ young, in more ways than one, but that did not +prove he was wrong. Perhaps he was presumptuous in trying to tell an +artist how to gain a foothold on the stage, but he was still convinced +that, in grand opera as in mining, there was no big demand for a +quitter. As for that swift, back stab, that veiled intimation that he +might live to be a quitter himself, Denver resolved then and there not +to quit working his mine until his last dollar was gone. And, while he +was doing that, he wondered if Drusilla could boast as much of her +music. Would she weaken again, as she had twice already, and declare +that she was a miserable failure; or would she toil on, as he did, day +by day, refusing to acknowledge she was whipped? + +Denver returned to his cave in a defiant mood and put on a record by +Schumann-Heink. There was one woman that he knew had fought her way +through everything until she had obtained a great success. He had read +in a magazine how she had been turned away by a director who had told +her her voice was hopeless; and how later, after years of privation and +suffering, she had come back to that same director and he had been +forced to acknowledge her genius. And it was all there, in her voice, +the sure strength that comes from striving, the sweetness that comes +from suffering; and as Denver listened to her "Cradle Song" he +remembered what he had read about her children. Every night, in those +dark times when, deserted and alone, she sang in the chorus for her +bread, she had been compelled for lack of a nursemaid to lock her +children in her room; and evening after evening her mother's heart was +tormented by fears for their safety. What if the house should burn down +and destroy them all? All the fear and love, all the anguished +tenderness which had torn her heart through those years was written on +the stippled disc, so deeply had it touched her life. + +Denver put them all on, the best records he had by singers of world +renown, and then at the end he put on the "Barcarolle," the duet from +the "Love Tales of Hoffmann." For him, that was Drusilla's song, the +expression of her gayest, happiest self. Its lilt and flow recalled her +to his thoughts like the embroidered motifs that Wagner used to +anticipate the coming of his characters. It was a light song, in a way, +not the greatest of music; but while she was singing it he had seen her +for the first time and it had become the motif of her coming. When he +heard it he saw a vision of a beautiful young girl, singing and swaying +like a slender flower; and all about her was a golden radiance like the +halo of St. Cecelia. And to him it was a prophecy of her ultimate +success, for when she sung it she had won his heart. So he played it +over and over, but when he had finished there was silence from the old +town below. + +Yet if Drusilla was silent it was not from despair for in the morning as +Denver was mucking out his tunnel he heard her clear voice mount up like +the light of some bird. + +"Ah, _Ah-h-h-h_, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah." + +It was the old familiar exercise, rising an octave at the first bound +and then fluttering down like some gorgeous butterfly of sound till it +rested on the octave below. And at each renewed flight it began a note +higher until it climbed at last to high C. Then it ran up in roulades +and galloping bravuras, it trilled and sought out new flights; yet +always with the pellucid tones of the flute, the sweet, virginal purity +of a child. She was right--there was something missing, a something +which she groped for and could not find, a something which the other +singers had. Denver sensed the lack dimly but he could not define it, +all he knew was that she left out herself. In the brief glimpse he had +of her she had seemed torn by dark passions, which caused her at times +to brood among the sycamores and again to seek a quarrel with him; yet +all this youthful turbulence was left out of her singing--she had not +learned to express her emotions. + +Denver listened every morning as he came out of his dark hole, pushing +the wheel-barrows of ore and waste before him, and then he bade farewell +to sun, air and music and went into the close, dark tunnel. By the light +of a single candle, thrust into its dagger-like miner's candlestick and +stabbed into some seam in the wall, he smashed and clacked away at his +drill until the whole face was honeycombed with holes. At the top they +slanted up, at the bottom down, to keep the bore broken clean; but along +the sides and in the middle they followed no system, more than to adapt +themselves to the formation. When his round of holes was drilled he cut +his fuse and loaded each hole with its charge; after which with firm +hands he ignited each split end and hurried out of the tunnel. There he +sat down on a rock and listened to the shots; first the short holes in +the center, to blow out the crown; then the side holes, breaking into +the opening; and the top-holes, shooting the rock down from above; and +then, last and most powerful, the deep bottom holes that threw the dirt +back down the tunnel and left the face clear for more work. + +As the poisonous smoke was drifting slowly out of the tunnel mouth +Denver fired up his forge and re-sharpened his drills; and then, along +towards evening, when the fumes had become diffused, he went in to see +what he had uncovered. Sometimes the vein widened or developed rich +lenses, and sometimes it pinched down until the walls enclosed nothing +but a narrow streak of talc; but always it dipped down, and that was a +good sign, a prophecy of the true fissure vein to come. The ore that he +mined now was a mere excrescence of the great ore-body he hoped to find, +but each day the blanket-vein turned and dipped on itself until at last +it folded over and led down. In a huge mass of rocks, stuck together by +crystals of silica and stained by the action of acids, the silver and +copper came together and intermingled at the fissure vent which had +produced them both. Denver stared at it through the powder smoke, then +he grabbed up some samples and went to see Bunker Hill. + +Not since that great day when Denver had struck the copper had Bunker +shown any interest in the mine. He sat around the house listening to +Drusilla while she practiced and opening the store for chance customers; +but towards Denver he still maintained a grim-mouthed reserve, as if +discouraging him from asking any favors. Perhaps the fact that Denver's +money was all gone had a more or less direct bearing on the case; but +though he was living on the last of his provisions Denver had refrained +from asking for credit. His last shipment of powder and blacksmith's +coal had cost twenty per cent more than he had figured and he had sent +for a few more records; and after paying the two bills there was only +some small change left in the wallet which had once bulged with +greenbacks. But his pride was involved, for he had read Drusilla a +lecture on the evils of being faint-hearted, so he had simply stopped +buying at the little store and lived on what he had left. But now--well, +with that fissure vein opened up and a solid body of ore in sight, he +might reasonably demand the customary accommodations which all merchants +accord to good customers. + +"Well, I've struck it," he said when he had Bunker in the store, "just +take a look at _that_!" + +He handed over a specimen that was heavy with copper and Bunker squinted +down his eyes. + +"Yes, looks good," he observed and handed it somberly back. + +"I've got four feet of it," announced Denver gloating over the +specimens, "and the vein has turned and gone down. What's the chances +for some grub now, on account? I'm going to ship that sacked ore." + +"Danged poor--with me," answered Bunker with decision. "You'd better try +your luck with Murray." + +"Oh, boosting for Murray, eh?" remarked Denver sarcastically. "Well, I +may take you up on that, but it's too far to walk now and I've been +living on beans for a week. I guess I'm good for a few dollars' worth." + +"Sure you're good for it," agreed Bunker, "but that ain't the point. The +question is--when will I get my money?" + +"You'll get it, by grab, as soon as I do," returned Denver with +considerable heat. "What's the matter? Ain't that ore shipment good +enough security?" + +"Well, maybe it is," conceded Bunker, "but you'll have a long wait for +your money. And to tell you the truth, the way I'm fixed now, I can't +sell except for cash." + +"Oh! Cash, eh?" sneered Denver suddenly bristling with resentment. "It +seems like I've heard that before. In fact, every time that I ask you +for a favor you turn me down like a bum. I came through here, one time, +so danged weak I could hardly crawl and you refused to even give me a +meal; and now, when I've got a mine that's worth millions, you've still +got your hand out for the money." + +"Well, now don't get excited," spoke up Bunker pacifically, "you can +have what grub you want. But I'm telling you the truth--those people +down below won't give me another dollar's worth on tick. These are hard +times, boy, the hardest I've ever seen, and if you'd offer me that mine +back for five hundred cents I couldn't raise the money. That shows how +broke I am, and I've got a family to support." + +"Well, that's different," said Denver. "If you're broke, that settles +it. But I'll tell you one thing, old-timer, you won't be broke long. I'm +going to open up a mine here that will beat the Lost Burro. I've got +copper, and that beats 'em all." + +"Sure does," agreed Bunker, "but it's no good for shipping ore. It takes +millions to open up a copper property." + +"Yes, and it brings back millions!" boasted Denver with a swagger. "I'm +made, if I can only hold onto it. But I'll tell you right now, if you +want to hold your claims you'd better do a little assessment work. +There's going to be a rush, when this strike of mine gets out, that'll +make your ground worth millions." + +Old Bunk smiled indulgently and took a chew of tobacco and Denver came +back to earth. + +"I'll tell you what I'll do," proposed Denver after a silence, "I'll +take a contract to do your assessment work for ten dollars a claim, in +trade. I'll make an open cut that's four by six by ten, and that's held +to be legal work anywhere. Come on now, I'm tired of beans." + +"Well, come down to supper," replied Bunker at last, "and we'll talk it +over there." + +"No, I don't want any supper," returned Denver resentfully, "you've got +enough hoboes to feed. You can give me an answer, right now." + +"All right--I won't do it," replied Bunker promptly and turned to go out +the door; but it had opened behind them and Drusilla stood there +smiling, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. + +"What are you two men quarreling about?" she demanded reprovingly, "we +could hear you clear over to the house." + +"Well, I asked him over to supper," began Bunker in a rage, "and----" + +"That's got nothing to do with it," broke in Denver hotly, "I'm making +him a business proposition. But he's so danged bull-headed he'd rather +kill some jumper than comply with the law as it stands. He's been +holding down these claims with a lead-pencil and a six-shooter just +about as long as he can and----" + +"Oh, have you made another strike?" asked Drusilla eagerly and when she +heard the news she turned to her father with a sudden note of gladness +in her voice. "Then you'll have to do the work," she said, "because I'll +never be happy till you do. Ever since you sold your claim I've been +sorry for my selfishness but now I'm going to pay you back. I'm going to +take my five hundred dollars and hire this assessment work done and +then----" + +"It won't cost any five hundred," put in Denver hastily. "I'm kinder +short, right now, and I offered to do it for ten dollars a claim, in +trade." + +"Ten dollars? Why, how can you do it for that? I thought the law +required a ten foot hole, or the same amount of work in a tunnel." + +"Or an open cut," hinted Denver. "Leave it to me--I can do it and make +money, to boot." + +"Well, you're hired, then!" cried Drusilla with a rush of enthusiasm, +"but you have to go to work to-morrow." + +"Well--ll," qualified Denver, "I wanted to look over my strike and +finish sacking that ore. Wouldn't the next day do just as well?" + +"No, it wouldn't," she replied. "You can give me an answer, right now." + +"Well, I'll go you!" said Denver and Old Bunker grunted and regarded +them with a wry, knowing smile. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A NIGHT FOR LOVE + + +There was music that evening in the Bunker Hill mansion but Denver +Russell sat sulking in his cave with no company but an inquisitive +pack-rat. He regretted now his curt refusal to join the Hills at supper, +for Drusilla was singing gloriously; but a man without pride is a +despicable creature and Old Bunk had tried to insult him. So he went to +bed and early in the morning, while the shadow of Apache Leap still lay +like a blanket across the plain, he set out to fulfill his contract. +Across one shoulder he hung a huge canteen of water, on the other a sack +of powder and fuse; and, to top off his burden, he carried a long steel +churn-drill and a spoon for scooping out the muck. + +The discovery hole of Bunker's Number Two claim was just up the creek +from his own and, after looking it over, Denver climbed up the bank and +measured off six feet from the edge. Then, raising the steel bar, he +struck it into the ground, churning it rhythmically up and down; and as +the hole rapidly deepened he spooned it out and poured in a little more +water. It was the same uninteresting work that he had seen men do when +they were digging a railroad cut; and the object was the same, to shoot +down the dirt with the minimum of labor and powder. But with Denver it +became a work of art, a test of his muscle and skill, and at each +downward thrust he bent from the hips and struck with a deep-chested +"Huh!" + +An hour passed by, and half the length of the drill was buried at the +end of the stroke; and then, as he paused to wipe the sweat from his +eyes, Denver saw that his activities were being noted. Drusilla was +looking on from the trail below, and apparently with the greatest +interest. She was dressed in a corduroy suit, with a broad sombrero +against the sun; and as she came up the slope she leapt from rock to +rock in a heavy pair of boys' high boots. There was nothing of the +singer about her now, nor of the filmy-clad barefooted dancer; the +jagged edge of old Pinal would permit of nothing so effeminate. Yet, +over the rocks as on the smooth trails, she had a grace that was all her +own, for those hillsides had been her home. + +"Well, how's the millionaire?" she inquired with a smile that made his +fond heart miss a beat. "Is _this_ the way you do it? Are you just +going to drill one hole?" + +"That's the dope," replied Denver, "sink it down ten feet and blow the +whole bank off with one shot. It's as easy as shooting fish." + +"Why, you're down half-way, already!" she cried in amazement. "How long +before you'll be done?" + +"Oh, half an hour or so," said Denver. "Want to wait and see the blast? +I learned this system on the railroad." + +"You'll be through, then, before noon!" she exclaimed. "You're actually +making money." + +"Well, a little," admitted Denver, "but, of course, if you're not +satisfied----" + +"Oh, I'm satisfied," she protested, "I was only thinking--but then, it's +always that way. There are some people, of course, who can make money +anywhere. How does it feel to be a millionaire?" + +"Fine!" grinned Denver, chugging away with his drill, "this is the way +they all got their start. The Armstrong method--and that's where I +shine; I can break more ground than any two men." + +"Well, I believe you can," she responded frankly, "and I hope you have a +great success. I didn't like it very well when you called me a quitter, +but I can see now what you meant. Did you ever study music at all?" + +Denver stopped his steady churning to glance at her quickly and then he +nodded his head. + +"I played the violin, before I went to mining. Had to quit then--it +stiffens up your fingers." + +"What a pity!" she cried. "But that explains about your records--I knew +you'd heard good music somewhere." + +"Yes, and I'm going to hear more," he answered impressively, "I'm not +going to blow my money. I'm going back to New York, where all those +singers live. The other boys can have the booze." + +"Don't you drink at all?" she questioned eagerly. "Don't you even smoke? +Well, I'm going right back and tell father. He told me that all miners +spent their money in drinking--why wouldn't you come over to supper?" + +She shot the question at him in the quick way she had, but Denver did +not answer it directly. + +"Never mind," he said, "but I will tell you one thing--I'm not a hobo +miner." + +"No, I knew you weren't," she responded quickly. "Won't you come over to +supper to-night? I might sing for you," she suggested demurely; but +Denver shook his head. + +"Nope," he said, "your old man took me for a hobo and he can't get the +idea out of his head. What did he say when you gave me this job?" + +"Well, he didn't object; but I guess, if you don't mind, we'll only do +three or four claims. He says I'll need the money back East." + +"Yes, you will," agreed Denver. "Five hundred isn't much. If I was flush +I'd do this for nothing." + +"Oh, no," she protested, "I couldn't allow that. But if there +_should_ be a rush, and father's claims should be jumped----" + +"You'd have the best of them, anyway. I wouldn't tempt old Murray too +far." + +"No," she said, "and that reminds me--I hear that he's made a strike. +But say, here's a good joke on the Professor. You know he thinks he's a +mining expert, and he's been crazy to look at the diamond drill cores; +and the other day the boss driller was over and he told me how he got +rid of him. You know, in drilling down they run into cavities where the +lime has been leached away, and in order to keep the bore intact they +pour them full of cement. Well, when the Professor insisted upon seeing +the core and wouldn't take no for an answer, Mr. Menzger just gave him a +section of concrete, where they'd bored through a filled-up hole. And +Mr. Diffenderfer just looked so wise and examined it through his +microscope, and then he said it was very good rock and an excellent +indication of copper. Isn't that just too rich for anything?" + +"Yeh," returned Denver with a thin-lipped smile. And then, before he +thought how it sounded: "Say, who is this Mr. Menzger, anyway?" + +"Oh, he's a friend of ours," she answered drooping her eyelashes +coquettishly. "He gets lonely sometimes and comes down to hear me +sing--he's been in New York and everywhere." + +"Yes, he must be a funny guy," observed Denver mirthlessly. "Any +relation to that feller they call Dave?" + +"Oh, Mr. Chatwourth? No, he's from Kentucky--they say he's the last of +his family. All the others were killed in one of those mountain +feuds--Mr. Menzger says he's absolutely fearless." + +"Well, what did he leave home for, then?" inquired Denver arrogantly. +"He don't look very bad to me, I guess if he was fearless he'd be back +in Kentucky, shooting it out with the rest of the bunch." + +"No, it seems that his father on his dying bed commanded him to leave +the country, because there were too many of the others against him. But +Mr. Menzger tells me he's a professional killer, and that's why Old +Murray hired him. Do you think they would jump our claims?" + +"They would if they struck copper," replied Denver bluntly. "And old +Murray warned me not to buy from your father--that shows he's got his +eye on your property. It's a good thing we're doing this work." + +"Weren't you afraid, then?" she asked, putting the wonder-note into her +voice and laying aside her frank manner, "weren't you afraid to buy our +claim? Or did you feel that you were guided to it, and all would be for +the best?" + +"That's it!" exclaimed Denver suddenly putting down his drill to gaze +into her innocent young eyes. "I was guided, and so I bought it anyhow." + +"Oh, I think it's so romantic!" she murmured with a sigh, "won't you +tell me how it happened?" + +And then Denver Russell, forgetting the seeress' warning at the very +moment he was discussing her, sat down on a rock and gave Drusilla the +whole story of his search for the gold and silver treasures. But at the +end--when she questioned him about the rest of the prophecy--he suddenly +recalled Mother Trigedgo's admonition: "Beware how you reveal your +affection or she will confer her hand upon another." + +A shadow came into his blue eyes and his boyish enthusiasm was stilled; +and Drusilla, who had been practicing her stage-learned wiles, suddenly +found her technique at fault. She chattered on, trying subtly to ensnare +him, but Denver's heart was now of adamant and he failed to respond to +her approaches. It was not too late yet to heed the words of the +prophecy, and he drilled on in thoughtful silence. + +"Don't you get lonely?" she burst out at last, "living all by yourself +in that cave? Why, even these old prospectors have to have some +pardner--don't you ever feel the need of a friend?" + +There it was--he felt it coming--the appeal to be just friends. But +another girl had tried it already, and he had learned about women from +her. + +"No," he said shortly, "I don't need no friends. Say, I'm going to load +this hole now." + +"Well, go on!" she challenged, "I'm not afraid. I'll stay here as long +as you do." + +"All right," he said lowering his powder down the hole and tamping it +gently with a stick, "I see I can't scare _you_." + +"Oh, you thought you could scare me!" she burst out mockingly, "I +suppose you're a great success with the girls." + +"Well," he mocked back, "a good-looking fellow like me----" And then he +paused and grinned slyly. + +"Oh, what's the use!" she exclaimed, rising up in disgust, "I might as +well quit, right now." + +"No, don't go off mad!" he remonstrated gallantly. "Stay and see the big +explosion." + +"I don't care _that_ for your explosion!" she answered pettishly +and snapped her fingers in the air. + +It was the particular gesture with which the coquettish Carmen was wont +to dismiss her lovers; but as she strode down the hill Drusilla herself +was heart-broken, for her coquetry had come to naught. This big Western +boy, this unsophisticated miner, had sensed her wiles and turned them +upon her--how then could she hope to succeed? If her eyes had no allure +for a man like him, how could she hope to fascinate an audience? And +Carmen and half the heroines of modern light opera were all of them +incorrigible flirts. They flirted with servants, with barbers, with +strolling actors, with their own and other women's husbands; until the +whole atmosphere fairly reeked of intrigue, of amours and coquettish +escapades. To the dark-eyed Europeans these wiles were instinctive but +with her they were an art, to be acquired laboriously as she had learned +to dance and sing. But flirt she could not, for Denver Russell had +flouted her, and now she had lost his respect. + +A tear came to her eye, for she was beginning to like him, and he would +think that she flirted with everyone; yet how was she to learn to +succeed in her art if she had no experience with men? It was that, in +fact, which her teacher had hinted at when he had told her to go out and +live; but her heart was not in it, she took no pleasure in deceit--and +yet she longed for success. She could sing the parts, she had learned +her French and Italian and taken instruction in acting; but she lacked +the verve, the passionate abandon, without which she could never +succeed. Yet succeed she must, or break her father's heart and make his +great sacrifice a mockery. She turned and looked back at Denver Russell, +and that night she sang--for him. + +He was up there in his cave looking down indifferently, thinking himself +immune to her charms; yet her pride demanded that she conquer him +completely and bring him to her feet, a slave! She sang, attired in +filmy garments, by the light of the big, glowing lamp; and as her voice +took on a passionate tenderness, her mother looked up from her work. +Then Bunker awoke from his gloomy thoughts and glanced across at his +wife; and they sat there in silence while she sang on and on, the +gayest, sweetest songs that she knew. But Drusilla's eyes were fixed on +the open doorway, on the darkness which lay beyond; and at last she saw +him, a dim figure in the distance, a presence that moved and was gone. +She paused and glided off into her song of songs, the "Barcarolle" from +"Love Tales of Hoffman," and as her voice floated out to him Denver rose +up from his hiding and stepped boldly into the moonlight. He stood there +like a hero in some Wagnerian opera, where men take the part of gods, +and as she gazed the mockery went out of her song and she sang of love +alone. Such a love as women know who love one man forever and hold all +his love in return, yet the words were the same as those of false +Giuletta when she fled with the perfidious Dapertutto. + + "Night divine, O night of love, + O smile on our enchantment + Moon and stars keep watch above + This radiant night of love!" + +She floated away in the haunting chorus, overcome by the madness of its +spell; and when she awoke the song was ended and love had claimed her +too. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A FRIEND + + +A new spirit, a strange gladness, had come over Drusilla and parts which +had been difficult became suddenly easy when she took up her work the +next day; but when she walked out in the cool of the evening the +sombrero and boy's boots were gone. She wore a trailing robe, such as +great ladies wear when they go to keep a tryst with knightly lovers, and +she went up the trail to where Denver was working on the last of her +father's claims. He was up on the high cliff, busily tamping the powder +that was to blast out the side of the hill, and she waited patiently +until he had fired it and come down the slope with his tools. + +"That makes four," he said, "and I'm all out of powder." But she only +answered with a smile. + +"I'll have to wait, now," he went on bluffly, "until McGraw comes up +again, before I can do any more work." + +"Yes," she answered and smiled again; a slow, expectant smile. + +"What's the matter?" he demanded and then his face changed and he +fumbled with the strap of his canteen. And when he looked up his eyes +met hers and there was no longer any secret between them. + +"You can rest a few days, then," she suggested softly, "I'd like to hear +some of your records." + +"Yes--sure, sure," he burst out hastily and they walked down the trail +together. She went on ahead with the quick step of a dancer and Denver +looked up at an eagle in the sky, as if in some way it could understand. +But the eagle soared on, without effort and without ceasing, and Denver +could only be glad. In some way, far beyond him, she had divined his +love; but it was not to be spoken of--now. That would spoil it all, the +days of sweet communion, the pretence that nothing had changed; yet they +knew it had changed and in the sharing of that great secret lay the tie +that should bind them together. Denver looked from the eagle to the +glorious woman and remembered the prophecy again. Even yet he must +beware, he must veil every glance, treat her still like a simple country +child; for the seeress had warned him that his fate hung in the balance +and she might still confer her hand upon another. + +In the happy days that followed he did no more work, further than to +sack his ore and ship it; but all his thoughts were centered upon +Drusilla who was friendly and elusive by turns. On that first precious +evening she came up with her father and inspected his smoke-blackened +cave, and over his new records there sprang up a conversation that held +him entranced for hours. She had been to the Metropolitan and the Boston +Opera Houses and heard the great singers at their best; she understood +their language, whether it was French or Italian or the now proscribed +German of Wagner, and she listened to the records again and again, +trying to steal the secret of their success. But through it all she was +gentle and friendly, and all her old quarrelsomeness was gone. + +A week passed like a day, full of dreams and half-uttered confidences +and long, contented silences; and then, as they sat in the shade of the +giant sycamore Denver let his eyes that had been fixed upon Drusilla, +stray and sweep the lower road. + +"What are you looking for now?" she demanded impatiently and he turned +back with a guilty grin. + +"McGraw," he said and she frowned to herself for at last the world had +come between them. For a week he had been idle, a heaven-sent companion +in the barren loneliness of life; but now, when his powder and mining +supplies arrived, he would become the old hard-working miner. He would +go into his dark tunnel before the sun was up and not come out till it +was low in the west, and instead of being clean and handsome as a young +god he would come forth like a groveling gnome. His face would be grimy, +his hands gnarled with striking, his digging-clothes covered with +candle-grease: and his body would reek with salty sweat and the rank, +muggy odor of powder fumes. And he would crawl back to his cave like an +outworn beast of burden, to sleep while she sang to him from below. + +"Will you go back to work?" she asked at last and he nodded and +stretched his great arms. + +"Back to work!" he repeated, "and I guess it's about time. I wonder how +much credit Murray gave me?" + +Drusilla said nothing. She was looking far away and wondering at the +thing we call life. + +"Why do you work so hard?" she inquired, half complainingly. "Is that +all there is in the world?" + +"No, lots of other things," he answered carelessly, "but work is the +only way to get them. I'm on my way, see? I've just begun. You wait till +I open up that mine!" + +"Then what will you do?" she murmured pensively, "go ahead and open up +another mine?" + +"Well, I might," he admitted. "Don't you remember that other treasure? +There's a gold-mine around here, somewhere." + +"Oh, is that all you think about?" she protested with a smile. "There +are lots of other treasures, you know." + +"Yes, but this one was prophesied," returned Denver doggedly. "I'm bound +to find it, now." + +"But Denver," she insisted, "don't you see what I mean? These +fortune-tellers never tell you, straight out. Yours said, 'a golden +treasure,' but that doesn't mean a gold mine. There are other treasures, +besides." + +"For instance?" he suggested and she looked far away as if thinking of +some she might name. + +"Well," she said at length, "there are opals, for one. They are +beautiful, and look like golden fire. Or it might be a rare old violin +that would bring back your music again. I saw one once that was golden +yellow--wouldn't you like to play while I sing? But if you spend all +your life trying to grub out more riches you will lose your appreciation +of art." + +"Yes, but wait," persisted Denver, "I'm just getting started. I haven't +got a dollar to my name. If Murray don't send me the supplies that I +ordered I'll have to go to work for my grub. The jewels can wait, and +the yellow violins, but I know that she meant a mine. It would have to +be a mine or I couldn't choose between them--and when I make my stake +I'm going to buy out the Professor and see what he's got underground. Of +course, it's only a stringer now but----" + +"Oh dear," sighed Drusilla and then she rose up, but she did not go +away. "Aren't you glad," she asked, "that we've had this week together? +I suppose I'm going to miss you, now. That's the trouble with being a +woman--we get to be so dependent. Can I play over your records, +sometimes?" + +"Sure," said Denver, "say, I'm going up there now to see if McGraw isn't +in sight. Would you like to come along too? We can sit outside in the +shade and watch for his dust, down the road." + +"Well, I ought to be studying," she assented reluctantly, "but I guess I +can go up--for a while." + +They clambered up together over the ancient, cliff-dwellers' trail, +where each foothold was worn deep in the rock; but as they sat within +the shadow of the beetling cliff Drusilla sighed again. + +"Do you think?" she asked, "that there will be a great rush when they +hear about your strike down in Moroni? Because then I'll have to go--I +can't practice the way I have been with the whole town filled up with +miners. And everything will be changed--I'd almost rather it wouldn't +happen, and have things the way they are now. Of course I'll be glad for +father's sake, because he's awfully worried about money; but sometimes I +think we're happier the way we are than we will be when we're all of us +rich. What will be the first thing you'll do?" + +"Well," began Denver, his eyes still on the road, "the first thing is to +open her up. There's no use trying to interest outside capital until +you've got some ore in sight. Then I'll go over to Globe to a man that I +know and come back with a hundred thousand dollars. That's right--I know +him well, and he knows me--and he's told me repeatedly if I find +anything big enough he's willing to put that much into it. He came up +from nothing, just an ordinary miner, but now he's got money in ten +different banks, and a hundred thousand dollars is nothing to him. But +his time is valuable, can't stop to look at prospects; so the first +thing I do is to open up that mine until I can show a big deposit of +copper. The silver and lead will pay all the expenses--and you wait, +when that ore gets down to the smelter I'll bet there'll be somebody +coming up here. It runs a thousand ounces to the ton or I'm a liar, the +way I've sorted it out; but of course old Murray and the rest of 'em +will rob me. I don't expect more than three hundred dollars." + +"Isn't it wonderful," murmured Drusilla, "and to think it all happened +just from having your fortune told! I'm going over to Globe before I +start back East and get her to tell my fortune, too; but of course it +can't be as wonderful as yours--you must have been just born lucky." + +"Well, maybe I was," said Denver with a shrug, "but it isn't all over +yet--I still stand a chance to lose. And she told me some other things +that are not so pleasant--sometimes I wish I'd never gone near her." + +"Oh, what are they?" she asked in a hushed eager voice; but Denver +ignored the question. Never, not even to his dearest friend, would he +tell the forecasting of his death; and as for dearest friends, if he +ever had another pardner he could never trust him a minute. The chance +slipping of a pick, a missed stroke with a hammer, any one of a thousand +trivial accidents, and the words of the prophecy would come to pass--he +would be killed before his time. But if he favored one man no more than +another, if he avoided his former pardners and friends, then he might +live to be one of the biggest mining men in the country and to win +Drusilla for his wife. + +"I'll tell you," he said meditatively, "you'd better keep away from her. +A man does better without it. Suppose she'd tell you, for instance, that +you'd get killed in a cave like she did Jack Chambers over in Globe; +you'd be scared then, all the time you were under ground--it ruins a man +for a miner. No, it's better not to know it at all. Just go ahead, the +best you know how, and play your cards to win, and I'll bet it won't be +but a year or two until you're a regular operatic star. They'll be +selling your records for three dollars apiece, and all those managers +will be bidding for you; but if Mother Trigedgo should tell you some bad +news it might hurt you--it might spoil your nerve." + +"Oh, did she tell you something?" cried Drusilla apprehensively. "Do +tell me what it was! I won't breathe it to a soul; and if you could +share it with some friend, don't you think it would ease your mind?" + +Denver looked at her slowly, then he turned away and shook his head in +refusal. + +"Oh, Denver!" she exclaimed as she sensed the significance of it, and +before he knew it she was patting his work-hardened hand. "I'm sorry," +she said, "but if ever I can help you I want you to let me know. Would +it help to have me for a friend?" + +"A friend!" he repeated, and then he drew back and the horror came into +his eyes. She was his friend already, the dearest friend he had--was she +destined then to kill him? + +"No!" he said, "I don't want any friends. Come on, I believe that's +McGraw." + +He rose up hastily and held out his hand to help her but she refused to +accept his aid. Her lips were trembling, there were tears in her eyes +and her breast was beginning to heave; but there was no explanation he +could give. He wanted her, yes, but not as a friend--as his beloved, his +betrothed, his wife! By any name, but not by the name of friend. He drew +away slowly as her head bowed to her knees; and at last he left her, +weeping. It was best, after all, for how could he comfort her? And he +could see McGraw's dust down the road. + +"I'm going to meet McGraw!" he called back from the steps and went +bounding off down the trail. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +BROKE + + +McGraw, the freighter, was a huge, silent man from whom long years on +the desert had almost taken the desire for speech. He came jangling up +the road, his wagons grinding and banging, his horses straining wearily +in their collars; and as Denver ran to meet him he threw on the brakes +and sat blinking solemnly at his inquisitor. + +"Where's my powder?" demanded Denver looking over the load, "and say, +didn't you bring that coal? I don't see that steel I ordered, either!" + +"No," said McGraw and then, after a silence: "Murray wouldn't receive +your ore." + +"Wouldn't receive it!" yelled Denver, "why, what was the matter with +it--did the sacks get broke going down?" + +"No," answered McGraw, "the sacks were all right. He said the ore was no +good." + +"Like hell!" scoffed Denver, "that ore that I sent him? It would run a +thousand ounces to the ton!" + +McGraw wrinkled his brows and looked up at the sun. + +"Well," he said, "I guess I'll be going." + +"But--hey, wait!" commanded Denver, scarcely believing his ears, "didn't +he send me any grub, or anything?" + +"Nope," answered McGraw, "he wouldn't give me nawthin'. He said the ore +was no good. Come, boys!" And he threw off the brakes with a bang. + +The chains tightened with a jerk, the wheelers set their feet; then the +lead wagon heaved forward, the trail-wagon followed and Denver was alone +on the road. His brain was in a whirl, he had lost all volition, even +the will to control his wild thoughts; until suddenly he burst out in a +fit of cursing--of Murray, of McGraw, of everything. McGraw had been a +fool, he should have demanded the supplies anyway; and Murray was just +trying to job him. He knew he was broke and had not had the ore assayed, +and he was taking advantage of the fact. He had refused the ore in order +to leave him flat and compel him to abandon his mine; and then he, +Murray, would slip over with his gun-man and take possession himself. +Denver struck his leg and looked up and down the road, and then he +started off for Moroni. + +It was sixty miles, across a scorching desert with only two wells on the +road; but Denver arrived at Whitlow's an hour after sunset, and he was +at Desert Wells before dawn. A great fire seemed to consume him, to +drive him on, to fill his body with inexhaustible strength; and, against +the advice of the station man, he started on in the heat for Moroni. All +he wanted was a show-down with Bible-Back Murray, to meet him face to +face; and no matter if he had the whole county in his pocket he would +tell him what he thought of him. And he would make him take that ore, +according to his agreement, or answer to him personally; and then he +would return to Pinal, where he had left Drusilla crying. But he could +not face her now, after all his boasting and his tales of fabulous +wealth. He could never face her again. + +The sun rose up higher, the heat waves began to shimmer and the +landscape to blur before his eyes; and then an automobile came +thundering up behind him and halted on the flat. + +"Get in!" called the driver throwing the door open hospitably; and in an +hour's time Denver was set down in Moroni, but with the fever still hot +in his brain. His first frenzy had left him, and the heat madness of the +desert with its insidious promptings to violence; but the sense of +injustice still rankled deep and he headed for Murray's store. It was a +huge, brick building crowded from basement to roof with groceries and +general merchandise. Busy clerks hustled about, waiting on Mexicans and +Indians and slow-moving, valley ranchers; and as Denver walked in there +was a man there to meet him and direct him to any department. It showed +that Bible-Back was efficient, at least. + +"I'd like to see Mr. Murray," announced Denver shortly and the +floor-walker glanced at him again before he answered that Mr. Murray was +out. It was the same at the bank, and out at his house; and at last in +disgust Denver went down to the station, where he had been told his ore +was lying. The stifling heat of the valley oppressed him like a blanket, +the sweat poured down his face in tiny streams; and at each evasion his +anger mounted higher until now he was talking to himself. It was evident +that Murray was trying to avoid him--he might even have started back to +the mine--but his ore was there, on a heavily timbered platform, where +it could be transferred from wagon to car without lifting it up and +down. There was other ore there too, each consignment by itself, taken +in by the store-keeper in exchange for supplies and held to make up a +carload. The same perfect system, efficiency in all things--efficiency +and a hundred per cent profit. + +Denver leapt up on the platform and cut open a sack, but as he was +pouring a generous sample of the ore into his handkerchief a man stepped +out of the next warehouse. + +"Hey!" he called, "what are you doing, over there? You get down and +leave that ore alone!" + +"Go to hell!" returned Denver, tying a knot in his handkerchief, and the +man came over on the run. + +"Say!" he threatened, "you put that ore back or you'll find yourself in +serious trouble." + +"Oh, I will, hey?" replied Denver with his most tantalizing smile. +"Whose ore do you think this is, anyway?" + +"It belongs to Mr. Murray, and you'd better put it back or I'll report +the matter at once." + +"Well, report it," answered Denver. "My name is Denver Russell and I'm +taking this up to the assayer." + +"There's Mr. Murray, now," exclaimed the man and as Denver looked up he +saw a yellow automobile churning rapidly along through the dust. Murray +himself was at the wheel and, sitting beside him, was another man +equally familiar--it was Dave, his hired gun-man. + +"What are you doing here, Mr. Russell?" demanded Murray with asperity +and Denver became suddenly calm. Old Murray had been hiding from him, +but they had summoned him by telephone, and he had brought along Dave +for protection. But that should not keep him from having his way and +forcing Murray to a show-down. + +"I just came down for a sample of that ore I sent you," answered Denver +with a sarcastic grin. "McGraw said you claimed it was no good, so I +thought I'd have it assayed." + +"Oh," observed Murray and for a minute he sat silent while Dave and +Denver exchanged glances. The gun-man was slight and insignificant +looking, with small features and high, boney cheeks; but there was a +smouldering hate in his deep-set eyes which argued him in no mood for a +jest, so Denver looked him over and said nothing. + +"Very well," said Murray at last, "the ore is yours. Go ahead and have +it assayed. But with the price of silver down to forty-five cents I +doubt if that stuff will pay smelter charges. I'll ship it, if you say +so, along with this other, if only to make up a carload; but it will be +at your own risk and if the returns show a deficit, your mine will be +liable for the balance." + +"Oh, that's the racket, eh?" suggested Denver. "You've got your good eye +on my mine. Well, I'd just like to tell you----" + +"No, I haven't," snapped back Murray, his voice harsh and strident, "I +wouldn't accept your mine as a gift. Your silver is practically +worthless and there's no copper in the district; as I know all too well, +to my sorrow. I've lost twenty thousand dollars on better ground than +yours and ordered the whole camp closed down--that shows how much I want +_your_ mine." + +He started his engine and glided on to the warehouse and Denver stood +staring down the road. Then he raised his sample, tied up in his +handkerchief, and slammed it into the dirt. His mine was valueless +unless he had money, and Murray had abandoned the district. More than +ever Denver realized how much it had meant to him, merely to have that +diamond drilling running and a big man like Murray behind it. It was +indicative of big values and great expectations; but now, with Murray +out of the running, the district was absolutely dead. There was no +longer the chance of a big copper strike, such as had been rumored +repeatedly for weeks, to bring on a stampede and make every claim in the +district worth thousands of dollars as a gamble. + +No, Pinal was dead; the Silver Treasure was worthless; and he, Denver +Russell, was broke. He had barely the price of a square meal. He started +up-town, and turned back towards the warehouse where Murray was +wrangling with his hireling; then, cursing with helpless rage, he swung +off down the railroad track and left his broken dreams behind him. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE HAND OF FATE + + +The swift hand of fate, which had hurled Denver from the heights into +the depths of dark despair, suddenly snatched him up out of the abyss +again and whisked him back to Globe. When he walked out of Moroni his +mind was a blank, so overcome was his body with heat and toil and the +astounding turns of his fortune; but at the next station below, as he +was trying to steal a ride, a man had dropped off the train and dragged +him, willy nilly, into his Pullman. It was a mining superintendent who +had seen him in action when he was timbering the Last Chance stope, and +in spite of his protests he paid his fare to Globe and put him to work +down a shaft. + +At the bottom of this shaft was millions of dollars worth of copper and +level after level of expensive workings; and some great stirring of the +earth was cutting it off, crushing the bottle off at the neck. Every +night, every shift, the swelling ground moved in, breaking stulls and +square-sets like tooth-picks; and now with solid steel and quick-setting +concrete they were fighting for the life of the mine. It was a dangerous +job, such as few men cared to tackle; but to Denver it was a relief, a +return to his old life after the delirium of an ugly dream. Even yet he +could not trace the flaw in his reasoning which had brought him to earth +with such a thump; but he knew, in general, that his error was the +common one of trying to run a mine on a shoestring. He had set up in +business as a mining magnate on eight hundred dollars and his nerve, and +Bible-Back Murray had busted him. + +Upon that point, at least, Denver suffered no delusion; he knew that his +downfall had been planned from the first and that he had bit like a +sucker at the bait. Murray had dropped a few words and spit on the hook +and Denver had shipped him his ore. The rest, of course, was like +shooting fish in the Pan-handle--he had refused to buy the ore, leaving +Denver belly-up, to float away with other human débris. But there was +one thing yet that he could not understand--why had Murray closed down +his own mine? That was pulling it pretty strong, just to freeze out a +little prospector and rob him of a ton or two of ore; and yet Denver had +proof that it was true. He had staked a hobo who had come over the trail +and the hobo had told him what he knew. The diamond drill camp was +closed down and all the men had left, but the guard was still herding +the property. And the hobo had seen a girl at Pinal. She was easy to +look at but hard to talk to, so he had passed and hit the trail for +Globe. + +Denver worked like a demon with a gang of Cousin Jacks, opposing the +swelling ground with lengths of railroad steel and pouring in the +concrete behind them; but all the time, by fits and snatches, the old +memories would press in upon him. He would think of Mother Trigedgo and +her glowing prophecies, which had turned out so wonderfully up to a +certain point and then had as suddenly gone wrong; and then he would +think of the beautiful artist with whom he was fated to fall in love, +and how, even there, his destiny had worked against him and led him to +sacrifice her love. For how could one hope to win the love of a woman if +he denied her his friendship first? And yet, if he accepted her as his +dearest friend, he would simply be inviting disaster. + +It was all wrong, all foolish--he dismissed it from his mind as unworthy +of a thinking man--yet the words of the prophecy popped up in his head +like the memories of some evil dream. His hopes of sudden riches were +blasted forever, he had given up the thought of Drusilla; but the one +sinister line recurred to him constantly--"at the hands of your dearest +friend." Never before in his life had he been without a pardner, to +share his ramblings and adventures, but now in that black hole with the +steel rails coming down and death on every hand, superstition +overmastered him and he rebuffed the hardy Cornishmen, refusing to take +any man for his friend. Nor would he return to Mother Trigedgo's +boarding house, for her prophecies had ruined his life. + +He worked on for a week, trying to set his mind at rest, and then a +prompting came over him suddenly to go back and see Drusilla. If death +must come, if some friend must kill him, in whose hands would he rather +entrust his life than in those of the woman he loved? Perhaps it was all +false, like the rest of the prophecy, the gold and silver treasures and +the rest; and if he was brave he might win her at last and have her for +more than a friend. But how could he face her, after all he had said, +after boasting as he had of his fortune? And he had refused her +friendship, when she had endeavored to comfort him and to exorcise this +fear-devil that pursued him. He went back to work, determined to forget +it all, but that evening he drew his time. It came to ninety dollars, +for seven shifts and over-time, and they offered him double to stay; but +the desire to see Drusilla had taken possession of him and he turned his +face towards Pinal. + +It was early in the morning when he rode out of Globe and took the trail +over the divide; and as he spurred up a hill he overtook another +horseman who looked back and grinned at him wisely. + +"Going to the strike?" he asked and Denver's heart leapt, though he kept +his quirt and spurs working. + +"What strike?" he said and the man burst into a laugh as if sensing a +hidden jest. + +"That's all right," he answered, "I guess you're hep--they say it runs +forty per cent copper." + +"How'd _you_ hear about it?" inquired Denver, fishing cautiously +for information. "Where you going--over to Pinal?" + +"You're whistling," returned the man, quite off his guard. "Say, stake +me a claim when you get there, if old Bible-Back hasn't jumped them +all." + +"Say, what are you talking about?" demanded Denver, suddenly reining in +his horse. "Is Murray jumping claims?" + +"Never mind!" replied the man, shutting up like a clam, and Denver +spurred on and left him. + +There was a strike then in Pinal, Old Murray had tapped the vein and it +ran up to forty per cent copper! That would make the claim that Denver +had abandoned the week before worth thousands and thousands of dollars. +It would make him rich and Bunker Hill rich and--yes, it would prove the +prophecy! He had chosen the silver treasure and the gold treasure had +been added to it--for the copper ore which had come in later was almost +the color of gold. As old Bunk had said, all these prophecies were +symbolical, and he had done Mother Trigedgo an injustice. And there was +one claim that he knew of--yes, and four others, too--that Murray would +never jump. That was his own Silver Treasure and the four claims of +Bunker's that he had done the annual work on himself. + +Denver's heart leapt again as he raced his horse across the flats and +led him scrambling with haste up the steep hills, and before the sun was +three hours high he had plunged into the box canyon of Queen Creek. Here +the trail wound in and out, crossing and recrossing the shrunken stream +and mounting with painful zigzags over the points; but he rioted through +it all, splashing the water out of the crossings as he hurried to claim +his own. The box canyon grew deeper, the walls more precipitous, the +creek bottom more dark and cavernous; until at last it opened out into +broad flats and boulder patches, thickly covered with alders and ash +trees. And then as he swung around the final, rocky point he saw his own +claim in the distance. It was nothing but a hole in the side of the +rocky hillside, a slide of gray waste down the slope; but to him it was +a beacon to light his home-coming, a proof that some dreams do come +true. He galloped down the trail where Drusilla and he had loitered and +let out an exultant whoop. + +But as Denver came opposite his mine a sinister thing happened--a head +rose up against the black darkness of the tunnel and a man looked +stealthily out. Then he drew back his head like some snake in a hole and +Denver stopped and stared. A low wall of rocks had been built across the +cut and the man was crouching behind it--Denver jogged down and turned +up the trail. A glimpse at Pinal showed the streets full of automobiles +and a huddle of men by the store door, and as he rode up towards his +mine Bunker Hill came running out and beckoned him frantically back. + +"Come back here!" he hollered and Denver turned and looked at him but +kept on up the narrow trail. The mine was his, without a doubt, both by +purchase and by assessment work done; and he had no fear of +dispossession by a jumper who was so obviously in the wrong. + +"Hello, there!" he hailed, reining in before the tunnel; and after a +minute the man rose up with his pistol poised over his shoulder. It was +Dave, Murray's gun-man, and at sight of his enemy Denver was swept with +a gust of passion. From the moment he had first met him, this +narrow-eyed, sneering bad-man had roused all the hate that was in him; +but now it had gone beyond instinct. He found him in adverse possession +of his property and with a gun raised ready to shoot. + +"What are _you_ doing here?" demanded Denver insolently but +Chatwourth did not move. He stood like a statue, his gun balanced in the +air, a thin, evil smile on his lips, and Denver gave way to his fury. +"You get out of there!" he ordered. "Get off my property! Get off or +I'll put you off!" + +Chatwourth twirled his gun in a contemptuous gesture; and then, like a +flash, he was shooting. He threw his shots low, between the legs of the +horse, which reared and whirled in a panic; and with the bang of the +heavy gun in his ears, Denver found himself headed down the trail. A +high derisive yell, a whoop of hectoring laughter, followed after him as +he galloped into the open; and he was fighting his horse in a cloud of +dust when Bunker Hill and the crowd came up. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE MAN-KILLER + + +"Did he hit ye?" yelled Bunker when Denver had conquered his pitching +horse and set him back on his haunches. "Hell's bells, boy, I told you +to stay out of there!" + +"Well, you lend me a gun!" shouted Denver in a fury, "and I'll go back +and shoot it out with that dastard! It's him or me--that's all!" + +"Here's a gun, pardner," volunteered a long-bearded prospector handing +up a six-shooter with tremulous eagerness; but Bunker Hill struck the +long pistol away and took Denver's horse by the bit. + +"Not by a jugful, old-timer," he said to the prospector. "Do you want to +get the kid killed? Come on back to the meeting and we'll frame up +something on these jumpers that'll make 'em hunt their holes. But this +boy here is my friend, understand?" + +He held the prancing horse, which had been spattered with glancing lead, +until Denver swung down out of the saddle; and then, while the crowd +followed along at their heels, he led the way back to the store. + +"What's going on here?" demanded Denver, looking about at the automobile +and the men who had popped up like magic, "has Murray made a strike?" + +"Danged right," answered Bunker, "he made a strike last month--and now +he has jumped all our claims. Or at least, it's his men, because Dave +there's the leader; but Murray claims they're working for themselves. +He's over at his camp with a big gang of miners, driving a tunnel in to +tap the deposit--it run forty per cent pure copper." + +"Well, we're made then," exulted Denver, "if we can get back our claims. +Come on, let's run these jumpers off!" + +"Yes, that's what _I_ said, a few hours ago," grumbled Bunker +biting savagely at his mustache, "and I never was so hacked in my life. +We went up to this Dave and all pulled our guns and ordered him out of +the district, and I'm a dadburned Mexican if he didn't pull _his_ +gun and run the whole bunch of us away. He's nervy, there's no use +talking; and I promised Mrs. Hill that I'd keep out of these shooting +affrays. By grab, it was downright disgraceful!" + +"That's all right," returned Denver, "he don't look bad to me. You just +lend me a gun and----" + +"He'll kill ye!" warned Bunker, "I know by his eye. He's a killer if +ever there was one. So don't go up against him unless you mean business, +because you can't run no blazer on _him_!" + +"Well--oh hell, then," burst out Denver, "what's the use of getting +killed! Isn't there anything else we can do? I don't need to eject him +because he's got no title, anyway. How about these lead-pencil fellows +that haven't done their work for years?" + +"That's it," explained Bunker, "we were having a meeting when we seen +you horn in on Dave. These gentlemen are all men that have held their +ground for years and it don't seem right they should lose it. At the +same time it'll take something more than a slap on the wrist to make +these blasted jumpers let go. They've staked all the good claims and are +up doing the work on them and the question is--what can we do?" + +"I'll tell you what I'll do," spoke up the old prospector vindictively +as the crowd surged into the store, "I'll get up on the Leap and shoot +down on them jumpers until I chase the last one of 'em off. They can't +run no rannikaboo on me!" + +He wagged his long beard and spat impressively but nobody paid any +attention to him. They realized at last that they were up against +gun-fighters--men picked for quick shooting and iron nerves and working +under the orders of one man. That man was Dave Chatwourth, nominally +dismissed by Murray but undoubtedly still in his pay, and until they +could devise some plan to eliminate him it was useless to talk of +violence. So they resumed their meeting and, as Denver owned a claim, he +found himself included in the membership. It was a belated revival of +the old-time Miners' Meeting, at one time the supreme law in Western +mining camps; and Bunker Hill, as Recorder of the district, presided +from his perch on the counter. + +From his seat in the corner Denver listened apathetically as the miners +argued and wrangled, and the longer they talked the more it became +apparent that nothing was going to be done. The encounter with Dave had +cooled their courage, and more and more the sentiment began to lean +towards an appeal to the power of the law. But then it came out that the +law was an instrument which might operate as a two-edged sword; for +possession, and diligence in working the claim, are the two big points +in mining law and just at that moment a legal decision would be all in +favor of the jumpers. And if Murray was behind them, as all the +circumstances seemed to indicate, he would hire the most expensive +lawyers in the country and fight the case to a finish. No, if anything +was to be done they must find out some other way, or they would be +playing right into his hands. + +"I'll tell you," proposed Bunker as the talk swung back to action, +"let's go back unarmed and talk to Dave again and find out what he +thinks he's doing. He can't hold Denver's claim, and those claims of +mine, because the work has just been done; and then, if we can talk him +into vacating our ground, maybe these other jaspers will quit." + +"I'll go you!" said Denver rising up impatiently, "and if he won't +vacate my claim I'll try some other means and see if we can't persuade +him." + +"That's the talk!" quavered the old prospector, slapping him heartily on +the back. "Lord love you, boy, if I was your age I'd be right up in +front there, shooting. Why, up in the Bradshaws in Seventy-three----" + +"Never mind what you'd do if you had the nerve," broke in Bunker Hill +sarcastically. "Just because you've got a claim that you'd like to get +back is no reason for stirring up trouble. No, I'm willing to go ahead +and do all the talking; but I want you to understand--this is +_peaceable_." + +"Well, all right," agreed the miners and, laying aside their pistols, +they started up the street for Denver's mine; but as Bunker led off a +voice called from the porch and his wife came hurrying after him. Behind +her followed Drusilla, reluctantly at first; but as her father kept on, +despite the entreaties of her mother, she ran up and caught him by the +sleeve. + +"No, don't go, father!" she cried appealingly and as Bunker replied with +an evasive laugh she turned her anger upon Denver. + +"Why don't you get back your own mine?" she demanded, "instead of +dragging my father into it?" + +"Never mind, now," protested Bunker, "we ain't going to have no +trouble--we just want to have a friendly talk. This has nothing to do +with Denver or his mine--all we want is a few words with Dave." + +"He'll shoot you!" she insisted. "Oh, I just know something will happen. +Well, all right, then; I'm going along too!" + +"Why, sure," smiled Bunker, "always glad to have company--but you'd +better stay back with your mother." + +"No, I'm going to stay right here," she answered stubbornly, giving +Denver a hateful glance, "because I don't believe a word you say." + +"Ve-ry well, my dear," responded Bunker indulgently and took her under +his arm. + +"I'm going ahead!" she burst out quickly as they came to the turn in the +trail; and before he could stop her she slipped out of his embrace and +went running to the entrance of the cut. But there she halted suddenly +and when they came up they found her pale and trembling. "Oh, go back!" +she gasped. "He's in there--he'll shoot you. I know something awful will +happen!" + +"You'd better go back, now," suggested her father quietly, and then he +turned to the barrier. "Don't start anything, Dave--we've come +peaceable, this time; so come out and let's have a talk." + +There was a long, tense silence and then the muzzle of a gun stirred +uneasily and revealed the hiding place of Dave. He was crouched behind +the rocks which he had piled up across the cut where it entered the +slope of the hill, and his long barrelled six-shooter was thrust out +through a crack just wide enough to serve for a loop-hole. + +"Don't want to talk," he answered at last. "So go on, now; get off of my +property." + +"Well, now listen," began Bunker shaking off Drusilla's grasp, "we +acknowledge we made a slight mistake. We tried to run a whizzer and you +called us good and plenty--all right then, now let's have a talk. If you +can show title to this ground you're holding, we'll leave you in +peaceful possession; and if you can't, you're just wasting your time and +talents, because there's plenty more claims that ain't took. It's a +cinch you can't hide in that hole forever, so you might as well have it +out now." + +"Well what d'ye want?" snarled Chatwourth irritably. "By cripes, I'll +kill the first man that comes a step nearer. I won't stand no +monkey-business from nobody." + +"Oh, sure, sure," soothed Bunker, "we know you're the goods--nerviest +gun-man, I believe, I ever saw. But here's the proposition, you ain't +here for your health, you must figure on making a winning somehow. Well, +if your title's good you've got a good mine, but if it ain't you're out +of luck. Now I sold this claim for five hundred dollars to Mr. Russell, +that you met a while ago; and we think it belongs to him yet. I gave him +a clear title and he's done his work, so----" + +"Your title was no good!" contradicted Chatwourth from his rock pile, +"you hadn't done your work for years. I've located this claim and the +man don't live----" + +"That's all right!" spoke up Denver, "but I located it before you did. I +didn't _buy_ this claim. I paid for a quit-claim and then relocated +it myself--and my papers are on record in Moroni." + +"Who called you in on this?" burst out Chatwourth abusively, rising up +with his gun poised to shoot. "Now you git, dam' your heart, and if you +say another word----" + +"You don't dare to shoot me!" answered Denver in a passion, standing +firm as the crowd surged back. "I'm unarmed, and you don't dare to shoot +me!" + +"Here, here!" exclaimed Bunker grabbing hastily at Denver's arm but +Denver struck him roughly aside. + +"Never mind, now," he said, "just get those folks away--I don't want any +of my friends to get hurt. But I'll tell you right now, either I throw +that man out or he'll have to shoot me down in cold blood." + +He backed away panting and the miners ran for cover, but Bunker Hill +held his ground. + +"No, now listen, Denver," he admonished gently, "you don't know what +you're doing. This man will kill you, as sure as hell." + +"He will not!" cried Denver grabbing up a heavy stone and advancing on +the barricade, "I'm destined to be killed by my dearest friend--that's +what old Mother Trigedgo told me! But this bastard ain't my friend and +never was----" + +He paused, for Chatwourth's gun came down and pointed straight at his +heart. + +"Stand back!" he shrilled and Denver leapt forward, hurling the rock +with all his strength. Then he plunged through the smoke, swinging his +arms out to clutch, and as he crashed through the barrier he stumbled +over something that he turned back and pounced on like a cat. It was +Chatwourth, but his body was limp and senseless--the stone had struck +him in the head. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +JUMPERS AND TENORS + + +They led Denver away as if he were a child, for the revulsion from his +anger had left him weak; but Chatwourth, the killer, was carried back to +town with his head lolling forward like a dead man's. The smash of the +stone had caught him full on the forehead, which sloped back like the +skull of a panther; and the blood, oozing down from his lacerated scalp, +made him look more murderous than ever. But his hard, fighting jaw was +hanging slack now and his dangerous eyes were closed; and the miners, +while they carried him with a proper show of solicitude, chuckled and +muttered among themselves. In a way which was nothing short of +miraculous Denver Russell had walked in on Murray's boss jumper and +knocked him on the head with a rock--and the shot which Chatwourth had +fired in return had never so much as touched him. + +They put Chatwourth in an automobile and sent him over to Murray's camp; +and then with broad smiles they gathered about Denver and took turns in +slapping him on the back. He was a wonder, a terror, a proper fighting +fool, the kind that would charge into hell itself with nothing but a +bucket of water; and would he mind, when he felt a little stronger, just +walking with them to their claims? Just a little, friendly jaunt, as one +friend with another; but if Murray's hired junipers saw him coming up +the trail that was all that would be required. They would go, and be +quick about it, for they had been watching from afar and had seen what +happened to Dave--but Denver brushed them aside and went up to his cave +where he could be by himself and think. + +If he had ever doubted the virtue of Mother Trigedgo's prophecy he put +the unworthy thought behind him. He knew it now, knew it +absolutely--every word of the prophecy was true. He had staked his life +to prove the blackest line of it, and Chatwourth's bullet had been +turned aside. No, the silver treasure was his, and the golden treasure +also, and no man but his best friend could kill him; but the beautiful +artist with whom he had fallen in love--would she now confer her hand +upon another? He had come back to Pinal to set the prophecy at defiance +and ask her to be his dearest friend; but now, well, perhaps it would be +just as well to stick to the letter of his horoscope. "Beware how you +reveal your affections," it said--and he had been rushing back to tell +her! And besides, she had met his advances despitefully, and practically +called him a coward. Denver brushed off the dust from his shiny +phonograph and put on the "Anvil Chorus." + +The next morning, early, he was up at his mine, with Chatwourth's gun +slung low on his leg; and while he remained there, to defend it against +all comers, he held an impromptu reception. There was a rush of miners, +to look at the mine and inspect the specimens of copper; and then +shoestring promoters began to arrive, with proposals to stock the +property. The Professor came up, his eyes staring and resentful; and old +Bunker, overflowing with good humor; and at last, when nobody else was +there, Drusilla walked by on the trail. She glanced up at him hopefully; +then, finding no response, she heaved a great sigh and turned up his +path to have it over and done with. + +"Well," she said, "I suppose you despise me, but I'm sorry--that's all I +can say. And now that I know all about your horoscope I don't blame you +for treating me so rudely. That is, I don't blame you so much. But don't +you think, Denver, when you went away and left me, you might have +written back? We'd always been such friends." + +She checked herself at the word, then smiled a sad smile and waited to +hear what he would say. And Denver, in turn, checked what was on his +lips and responded with a solemn nod. It had come to him suddenly to +rise up and clasp her hands and whisper that he'd take a chance on it, +yet--that is, if they could still be friends--but the significance of +the prophecy had been proved only yesterday, and miracles can happen +both ways. The same fate, the same destiny, which had fended off the +bullet when Chatwourth had aimed at his heart, might turn the merest +accident to the opposite purpose and make Drusilla his unwilling slayer. + +"Yes," he said, apropos of nothing, "you see now how I'm fixed. Don't +dare to have any friends." + +"No, but Denver," she pouted, "you might say you were sorry--that's +different from being friends. But after we'd been so--oh, do you believe +all that? Do you believe you'll be killed by your dearest friend, and +that nobody else can harm you? Because that, you know, is just +superstition; it's just like the ancient Greeks when they consulted the +oracle, and the Indians, and Italians and such people. But educated +people----" + +"What's the matter with the Greeks?" spoke up Denver contentiously. "Do +you mean to say they were ignorant? Well, I talked with an old-timer--he +was a Professor in some university--and he said it would take us a +thousand years before we even caught up with them. Do you think that I'm +superstitious? Well, listen to this, now; here's one that he told me, +and it comes from a famous Greek play. There was a woman back in Greece +that was like Mother Trigedgo, and she prophesied, before a man was +born, that he'd kill his own father and marry his own mother. What do +you think of that, now? His father was a king and didn't want to kill +him, so when he was born he pierced his feet and put him out on a cliff +to die. But a shepherd came along and found this baby and named him +Edipus, which means swelled feet; and when the kid grew up he was +walking along a narrow pass when he met his father in disguise. They got +into a quarrel over who should turn out and Epidus killed his father. +Then he went on to the city where his mother was queen and there was a +big bird, the Sphinx, that used to come there regular and ask those +folks a riddle: What is it that is four-footed, three-footed and +two-footed? And every time when they failed to give the answer the +Sphinx would take one of them to eat. Well, the queen had said that +whoever guessed that riddle could be king and have her for his wife, and +Epidus guessed the answer. It's a _man_, you see, that crawls when +he is a baby, stands on two legs when he's grown and walks with a cane +when he is old. Epidus married the queen, but when he found out what +he'd done he went mad and put his own eyes out. But don't you see he +couldn't escape it." + +"No, but listen," she smiled, "that was just a legend, and the Greeks +made it into a play. It was just like the German stories of Thor and the +Norse gods that Wagner used in his operas. They're wonderful, and all +that, but folks don't take them seriously. They're just--why, they're +fairy tales." + +"Well, all right," grumbled Denver, "I expect you think I am crazy, but +what about Mother Trigedgo? Didn't she send me over here to find this +mine? And wasn't it right where she told me? Doesn't it lie within the +shadow of a place of death, and wasn't the gold added to it?" + +"Why, no!" exclaimed Drusilla, "did you find the gold, too? I +thought----" + +"That referred to the copper," answered Denver soberly. "It was your +father that gave me the tip. When I first came over here I was inquiring +for gold, because I knew I had to make a choice; but he pointed out to +me that these horoscopes are symbolical and that the golden treasure +might be copper. It looks a whole lot like gold, you know; and now just +look what happened! I chose the silver, see--I chose the right +treasure--and when I drifted in, this vein of chalcopyrites appeared and +was added to the silver. It followed along in the hanging wall until the +whole formation dipped and then----" + +"Oh, I don't care about that!" burst out Drusilla fretfully, "it's easy +to explain anything, afterwards! But of course if you think more of gold +and silver than you do of having me for a friend----" + +"But I don't," interposed Denver, gently taking her hand. "Sit down here +and let's talk this over." + +"Well," sighed Drusilla and then, winking back the tears, she sank down +in the shade beside him. + +"I don't want you to think," went on Denver tenderly, without weighing +very carefully what he said, "I don't want you to think I don't like +you, because--say, if you'll kiss me, I'll take a chance." + +"Oh--would you?" she beamed her eyes big with wonder, "would you take a +chance on my killing you?" + +"If it struck me dead!" declared Denver gallantly, but she did not yield +the kiss. + +"No," she said, "I don't believe in kisses--have you kissed other girls +before? And besides, I just wanted to be friends again, the way we were +before." + +"Well, I guess you don't want to be friends very bad," observed Denver +with a disgruntled smile. "When do you expect to start for the East?" + +"Pretty soon," she answered. "Will you be sorry?" + +Denver shrugged his shoulders and began snapping pebbles at an ant. + +"Sure," he said and she drew away from him. + +"You won't!" she burst out resentfully. + +"Yes, I'll be sorry," he repeated, "but it won't make much difference--I +don't expect to last very long. I've always had a pardner, some feller +to ramble around with and borrow all my money when he was broke, and I'm +getting awful lonesome without one. Sooner or later, I reckon, I'll pick +up another one and the crazy danged fool will kill me. Drop a timber +hook on my head or some stunt like that--I wish I'd never seen old +Mother Trigedgo! What you don't know never hurt anyone; but now, by +grab, I'm afraid of every man I throw in with. For the time being, at +least, he's the best friend I've got; and--oh, what's the use, anyway, +it'll get you, sooner or later--I might as well go out like a sport." + +"You were awful brave," she murmured admiringly, "when you fought with +Mr. Chatwourth yesterday. Weren't you honestly afraid he would kill +you?" + +"No, I wasn't!" declared Denver. "He didn't look bad to me--don't now +and never did--and as long as the cards are coming my way I don't let no +alleged bad-man run it over me. Here's the gun that I took away from +him." + +"Yes, I noticed it," she said. "But when he comes back for it are you +going to give it up?" + +"Sure," answered Denver, "just show me a rock-pile and I'll run him out +of town like a rabbit." + +"And you fought him with _rocks_!" she said half to herself, "I +wish I were as brave as that." + +"Well, it's all in your mind," expounded Denver. "Some people are afraid +to crack an egg but I'm game to try anything once." + +"So am I!" she defended looking him boldly in the eye but he shook his +head and smiled. + +"Nope," he said, "you don't believe in kisses. But I was willing to take +a chance on getting killed." + +"No," she said, "a kiss means more than that. It means--well, it means +that you love someone." + +"It means what you want it to mean," he corrected. "Don't you have to +kiss the tenor in these operas?" + +"Well that's different," she responded blushing. "That's why I'm afraid +I'll never succeed! Of course we're taught to do stage kisses, but +somehow I can't bring myself to it. But oh, I do so love to sing! I like +it all, except just that part of it--and the singers are not all nice +men. Some of them just make a business of flattering pretty girls and +offering to get them a hearing. That's why some girls succeed and get +such big parts--they have an understanding with someone that can use his +influence with the directors. They don't take the best singers and +actors at all, it's all done by intrigue and money. Oh, I wish some real +_nice_ man would start a new company and invite me to take a part. +I've heard one was being organized--a traveling company that will sing +in all the big cities--and I've written to my music teacher about it. +But if I don't get some position my money will all be gone in no time +and then--well, what will I do?" + +She looked at him bravely and he saw in her eyes the calmness that goes +with desperation. + +"You write to me," he said, "and I'll send you the last dollar I've +got." + +"No, I didn't mean that," she replied, "I can earn my living at +something. But father and mother have spent all their money in training +me to be a great singer and I just can't bear to disappoint them. It's +cost ten thousand dollars to bring me where I am, and this five hundred +dollars is nothing. Why the great vocal teachers, who can use their +influence to get their pupils a hearing, charge ten dollars for a +half-hour lesson; and if I don't go to them then every door is +closed--unless I'm willing to pay the price." + +"Well, I take it all back then," spoke up Denver at last, "there are +different kinds of bravery. But you go on back there and do your best +and maybe we can make a raise. I'll just take my gun and go up to your +father's claims and jump out that bunch of bad-men----" + +"No! No, Denver!" she broke in very earnestly, "I don't want you to do +that again. I heard last night that Dave said he would get you--and if +he did, why then I'd be to blame. You'd be doing it for me, and if one +of those men killed you--well, it would be just the same as me." + +"Nope!" denied Denver, "there was no figure of speech about that. It +said: 'at the _hands_ of your dearest friend.' These jumpers ain't +my friends and never was--come on, let's take a chance. I'll run 'em off +the claims if your father will give you half of 'em, and then you can +turn around and sell out for cash and go back to New York like a queen. +You stand off the tenors and I'll stand off the jumpers; and then, +perhaps--but we won't talk about that now. Come on, will you shake hands +on the deal?" + +She looked at him questioningly, his powerful hand reached out to help +her, the old, boyish laughter in his eyes, and then she smiled back as +bravely. + +"All right," she said, "but you'll have to be careful--because now I'm +your dearest friend." + +"I'm game," he cried, "and you don't have to kiss me either. But if some +Dago tenor----" + +"No," she promised looking up at him wistfully. "I'll--I'll save the +kiss for you." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +BROKE AGAIN + + +The industry of four jumpers, digging in like gophers on the best of +Bunker Hill's claims, was brought to an abrupt termination by the +appearance of one man with a gun. He came on unconcernedly, Dave's +six-shooter at his hip and the strength of a lion in his stride; and the +first of the gun-men, after looking him over, jumped out of his hole and +made off. Denver tore down his notice and posted the old one, with a +copy of his original affidavit that the annual work had been done; and +when he toiled up to the remaining three claims the jumpers had fled +before him. They knew him all too well, and the gun at his hip; and they +counted it no disgrace to give way before the man who had conquered Dave +Chatwourth with rocks. So Denver changed the notices and came back +laughing and Bunker Hill made over the claims. + +"Denver," he said clasping him warmly by the hand, "I swow, you're the +best danged friend I've got. For the last time, now, will you come to +dinner?" + +"Sure," grinned Denver, "but cut out that 'friend' talk. It makes me +kind of nervous." + +"I'll do it!" promised Bunker, "I'll do anything you ask me. You saved +my bacon on them claims. That snooping Dutch Professor tipped them +jumpers off that I'd promised my wife not to shoot, but I guess when +they see you come rambling up the gulch they begin to feel like Davey +Crockett's coon. + +"'Don't shoot, Davey,' he says, 'I know you'll get me.' And he came +right down off the limb." Old Bunker laughed uproariously and slapped +Denver on the back, after which he took him over to the house and +announced a guest for dinner. + +"Sit down, boy, sit down," he insisted hospitably as Denver spoke of +going home to dress, "you're company just the way you are. As Lord +Chesterfield says: 'A clean shirt is half of full dress.' And a pair of +overalls, I reckon, is the rest of it. Say, did you hear what Murray +said when we took Dave over there, looking like something that the cat +had brought in? + +"'My Gawd,' he says, 'what has happened to the _mine_?' + +"That was something like a deacon that I worked for one time when he was +fixing to paint his barn. He slung a ladder on an old, rotten rope and +sent me up on it to work and about half an hour afterwards the rope gave +way and dropped me, ladder and all, to the ground. The deacon was at the +house when he heard the crash and he came running with his coat-tails +straight out. + +"'Goodness gracious!' he hollered, 'did you spill the paint?' + +"'No,' I says, 'but I will!' And I kicked all his paint-cans over. + +"Well, old Murray is like that deacon; you touch his pocket and you +touch his heart--he's always thinking about money. He'd been planning +for months to slip in and jump these claims and here you come along and +do the assessment work and knock him out of five of 'em. The boys say +he's sure got blood in his eye and is cussing you out a blue streak. +That's a nice gun you got off of Dave--how many notches has it got on +the butt? Only three, eh? Well, say, if he ever sends over to ask for it +I've got another one that I'll loan you. You want to go heeled, +understand? Murray's busy right now bossing those three shifts of miners +that are driving that adit tunnel, but when he gets the time he'll leave +his glass eye on a fence post and come over to see what we're doing. +Didn't you ever hear about Murray's glass eye? + +"Well, they say he lost his good one looking for a dollar that he +dropped; but here's the big joke about the fence-post. He got his start +down in the valley, raising alfalfa and feeding stock, and he always +hired Indians whenever he could because they spent all their time-checks +at the store. A Mexican or a white man might hold out a few dollars, or +spend the whole wad for booze; but Indians are barred from getting drunk +and they've only got one use for money. Yes, they believe it was made to +spend, not to bury alongside of some fence-post. And speaking of +fence-posts brings me back to the point--Old Murray had a bunch of big, +lazy Apaches working by the day cleaning out a ditch. He was down there +at daylight and watched 'em like a hawk, but every time he'd go into +town the whole bunch would sit down for a talk. Well, he _had_ to +go to town so one day he called 'em up and made 'em a little talk. + +"'Boys,' he says, 'I've got to go to town but I'm going to watch you, +all the same. Sure thing, now,' he says, 'you can laugh all you want to, +but I'll see everything that you do.' Then he took out his glass eye and +set it on a fence-post where it looked right down the ditch, and started +off for town. You know these Apaches--superstitious as hell--they got in +and worked like niggers. Kinder scared 'em, you see, ain't used to glass +eyes; but there was one old boy that was foxy. He dropped down in the +ditch where the eye wouldn't see him and crept up behind that fence-post +like a snake, and then he picked up an empty tin can and slapped it down +over the eye. There was a boy over at the ranch that saw the whole +business and he says them Indians never did a lick of work till they saw +Bible-Back's dust down the road. Pretty slick, eh, for an Indian? And +some people will try to tell you that the untutored savage can't think. + +"Well, that's the kind of an hombre that we're up against--he'd skin a +flea for his hide and taller. As old Spud Murphy used to say, he'd rob a +poor tumble-bug of his ball of manure and put him on the wrong road +home. He's mean, and it sure hurt his feelings to have you hop in and +win back your mine. And knocking Dave on the head took the pip out of +these other jumpers--I'm looking for the whole bunch to fade." + +"Well, they might as well," said Denver, "because their claims are not +worth fighting for and there's a Miners' Committee going to call on 'em. +I'm going along myself in an advisory capacity, and my advice will be to +beat it. And if you'll take a tip from me you'll hire a couple of miners +and put them to work on your claims." + +"I'll do it to-morrow," agreed Bunker enthusiastically. "I've got a +couple of nibbles from some real mining men--not some of these little, +one-candle power promoters but the kind that pay with certified +checks--and if I can open up those claims and just get a color of copper +I'm fixed, boy, that's all there is to it. Come on now, let's go in to +dinner." + +The memory of that dinner, and of the music that followed it, remained +long in Denver's mind; and later in the evening, when the lights were +low and her parents had gone to their rest, Drusilla sang the +"Barcarolle" from Hoffmann. She sang it very softly, so as not to +disturb them, but the look in her eyes recalled something to Denver and +as he was leaving he asked her a question. It was not if she loved him, +for that would be unfair and might spoil an otherwise perfect evening; +but he had been wondering as he listened whether she had not seen him +that first time--when he had slipped down and listened from the shadows. + +And when he asked her she smiled up at him tremulously and nodded her +head very slowly; and then she whispered that she had always loved him +for it, just for listening and going away. She had been downcast that +night but his presence had been a comfort--it had persuaded her at last +that she could sing. She had sung the "Barcarolle" again, on that other +night, when he had stepped out so boldly from the shadows; but it was +the first time that she loved him for it, when he was still a total +stranger and had come just to hear her sing. There was more that she +said to him and when he had to go she smiled again and gave him her +hand, but he did not suggest a kiss. She was keeping that for him, until +she had been to New York and run the gauntlet of the tenors. + +This was the high spot in Denver's life, when he had stood upon +Parnassus and beheld everything that was good and beautiful; but in the +morning he put on his old digging clothes again and went to work in the +mine. He had seen her and it was enough; now to break out the ore and +win her for his own. For he was poor, and she was poor, and how could +she succeed without money? But if he could open up his mine and block +out a great ore body then her claims and Bunker's, that touched it on +both sides, would take on a speculative value. They could be sold for +cash and she could go East in style, to take lessons from the ten-dollar +teacher who had influence with directors and impresarios. Denver put in +a round of holes and blasted his way into the mountain; but as he came +out in the evening, dirty and grimed and pale from powder sickness, +Drusilla paled too and almost shrank away. She had strolled up before, +only to hear the clank of his steel and the muffled thud of his blows; +and now as she stood waiting, attired as daintily as a bride, the +dream-hero of her memories was banished. He was a miner again, a sweaty, +toiling animal, dead to all the finer things of life; but if Denver read +her thoughts he did not notice, for he remembered what Mother Trigedgo +had told him. + +Two weeks passed by and Labor Day came near, when all the hardy miners +foregathered in Globe and Miami and engaged in the sports of their kind. +A circular came to Denver, announcing the drilling contests and giving +his name as one of the contestants; then a personal letter from the +Committee on Arrangements, requesting him to send in his entry; and at +last there came a messenger, a good hard-rock man named Owen, to suggest +that they go in together. But Denver was driving himself to the limit, +blasting out ore that grew richer each day; and at thought of Bible-Back +Murray, waiting to pounce upon his mine, he sent back a reluctant +refusal. Yet they published his name, with the partner's place left +vacant, and advertised that he would participate; for on the Fourth of +July, with Slogger Meacham for a partner, he had won the title of +champion. + +The decision to go was forced upon him suddenly on the day before the +event, though he had almost lost track of time. Every morning at +day-break he had been up and cooking, after breakfast he had gone to the +mine; and, between mucking out the tunnel and putting in new shots, the +weeks had passed like days. But when he went to Bunker on the eighth of +September and asked for a little more powder Bunker took him to the +powder-house and showed him a space where the boxes of dynamite had +been. Then he took him behind the counter and showed him the money-till +and Denver awoke from his dream. + +In spite of the stampede and the activity all about them the whole Pinal +district was not producing a cent, and would not for months to come. +Every dollar that was spent there had to come in from the outside, and +the men who held the claims were all poor. Even after driving off the +jumpers and regaining their lost claims the majority had gone home after +merely scratching up their old dumps in a vain pretense at doing the +assessment work. + +The promoters were not buying, they were simply taking options and +waiting on Murray's tunnel; and until he drove in and actually tapped +the copper ore there would be no steady boom. He had organized a company +and was selling a world of stock, even using it to pay off his men: and +it was whispered about that his strike was a fake, for he still refused +to exhibit the drill cores. But whether his strike was a bona fide +discovery or merely a ruse to sell stock, the fact could not be blinked +that Denver and Bunker Hill had reached the end of their rope. They were +broke again and Denver set out for Globe, leaving Bunker to hold down +his claim. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE ROCK-DRILLING CONTEST + + +The main street of Globe was swarming with men, from the court-house +square down past the viaduct to where the Bohunks dwelt. And the men +were all miners, deep-chested and square-shouldered, but white from +working underground. They were gathered in knots before the soft-drink +emporiums that before had all been saloons and as Denver rode in they +shouted a hoarse welcome and followed on to Miners' Hall. There the +Committee of Arrangements was sitting in state but when Denver strode in +a huge form bulked up before him and Slogger Meacham grinned at him +evilly. Two months before, on the Fourth of July, they had been partners +in the winning team; but now Meacham had taken on with a Cornishman from +Miami and they counted the money as good as won. + +"What are you doing here?" demanded the Slogger insolently, "do you +think you're going to compete?" + +"Danged right I am, if the judges will let me," answered Denver shoving +resolutely past; and at sight of their lost champion the committee +brightened up, though they glanced at each other anxiously. But what +they wanted was a contest, something that would bring out the crowd and +make the great day a success, and they waited upon Denver expectantly. + +"Well, here's where you get left then," spoke up Meacham with a sneer, +"the entries were closed at noon." + +"Oh, hell!" cursed Denver and was turning to go when the chairman called +him back. + +"Just a minute," he said, "didn't you send in your entry? I believe +we've got it here, somewhere." He began to fumble industriously through +a pile of papers and Denver caught his breath. For a moment he had seen +his dreams brought to nothing, his last chance at the prize-money gone; +but at this tentative suggestion on the part of the chairman he suddenly +took heart of grace. They wanted him to compete, it had been advertised +in all the papers, and they were willing to meet him half-way. But +Denver was no liar, he shook his head and sighed, then turned back at a +sudden thought. + +"Maybe Tom Owen made the entry?" he burst out eagerly, "he was over to +see me, you know." + +"That was it!" exclaimed the chairman as if clutching at a straw, "say, +where is that blank of theirs, Joe?" + +"Search me," answered Joe, "it's around here, somewhere. Oh, I know!" +And he went out into the back room. "Ain't this it?" he inquired +returning with a paper and the chairman snatched it away from him. + +"Yes," he said, "how'd it get out there? Well, no matter--that's all +right, Mr. Russell!" + +"No it ain't!" blurted out Meacham making a grab for the paper; but the +chairman struck away his hand. + +"You keep out of this!" he said. "What d'ye think you're trying to do? +You keep out or I'll put you out!" + +"It's a flim-flam!" raged Meacham, "you're trying to job me. He never +made no entry." + +"I never claimed to," retorted Denver boldly and Meacham turned on him, +his pig eyes blazing with fury. + +"I'll fix you, for this!" he burst out hoarsely, "I'll get you if I have +to kill you. You robbed me once, but you won't do it again; so I give +you fair warning--pull out!" + +"You robbed _me_!" came back Denver, "and these boys all know it. +But I fought you fair for the whole danged roll----" + +"You did naht!" howled Meacham, "you had a feller with ye----" + +"Well, I'll fight you right now, then," volunteered Denver +accommodatingly but the Slogger did not put up his hands. + +"That's all right," he said backing sullenly away, "but remember what I +told you--I'll git ye!" + +"You'll git nothing!" returned Denver and laughed him out the door, +though there were others who muttered warnings in his ears. Slogger +Meacham was a fighter as well as a driller and his flight with the +prize-money was not the first time that he had lapsed from the ways of +strict rectitude. He had killed a man during the riots at Goldfield and +had been involved in several ugly brawls; but his record as a bad man +did not deter Denver from opposing him and he went out to hunt up Owen. + +Tom Owen was a good man, and he was also a good driller, but there was +one thing that Denver held against him--he had been a drinking man when +Arizona was wet. And a man who has drunk, no matter when, is never quite +the same in a contest. He has lost that narrow margin of vital force, +those last few ounces of strength and stamina which win or lose at the +finish. Yet even at that he was a better man than Meacham, who had laid +down like a yellow dog. Denver remembered that too and when he found his +man he told him they were due to win. Then he borrowed some drills and a +pair of eight-pound hammers and they went through a try-out together. +Owen was quick and strong, he made the changes like lightning and struck +a heavy blow; but when it was over and he was rolling a cigarette Denver +noticed that his hand was trembling. The strain of smashing blows had +over-taxed his nerves, though they had worked but three or four minutes. + +"Well, do the best you can," said Denver at last, "and for cripes sake, +keep away from this boot-leg." + +There was plenty of it in town on this festive occasion, a +nerve-shattering mixture that came in from New Mexico and had a kick +like a mule. It was circulating about in hip pockets and suit-cases and +in automobiles with false-bottomed seats, and Denver knew too well from +past experience what the temptation was likely to be; yet for all his +admonitions when he met Owen in the morning he caught the bouquet of +whisky. It was disguised with sen-sen and he pretended not to notice it +but his hopes of first money began to wane. They went out again to the +backyard of an old saloon where a great block of granite was embedded +and while their admirers looked on they practiced their turn, for they +had never worked together. A Cornish miner, a champion in his day, +volunteered to be their coach and at each call of: "Change!" they +shifted from drill to hammer without breaking the rhythm of their +stroke. + +"You'll win, lads," said the Cornishman, patting them affectionately on +the back and Denver led them off for their rub-down. + +The band began to play in the street below and the Miners' Union marched +past, after which they banked in about a huge block of granite and the +drilling contests began. The drilling rock was placed on a platform of +heavy timbers at the lower side of the court-house square, and the slope +above it and the windows of all the buildings were crowded with shouting +miners. First the men who were to compete in the single-jack contests +mounted the platform one by one; and the sharp, _peck_, +_peck_, of their hammers made music that the miners knew well. +Then, as their holes were cleaned out and the depth of each measured, +the first team of double-jackers climbed up to the platform amid the +frantic plaudits of the crowd. The announcer introduced them, they laid +out their drills and the hammer-man poised his double-jack; then at the +word from the umpire they leapt into action, striking and turning like +men gone mad. + +There were five teams entered, of which Denver's was the last, but when +Meacham and his partner were announced as the next contestants his +impatience would not brook further delay. With his own precious drills +tied securely in a bundle and Owen and the coach behind him he fought +his way to the base of the platform and sat down where he could watch +every blow. They came on together, a team hard to match; Meacham +stripped to the waist, his ponderous head thrust forward, the muscles +swelling to great knots in his arms. His partner wore the heavy, yellow +undershirt of a miner, his trousers draped low on his hips; and to hold +them up he had a strand of black fuse twisted loosely in place of a +belt. He was a hard, hairy man, with grim, deep-set eyes and a jaw that +jutted out like a crag and as he raised his hammer to strike Denver saw +that he was out to win. + +"Go!" called the umpire and the hammer smote the drill-head till it made +the blue granite smoke; and then for thirty seconds he flailed away +while Slogger Meacham turned the short starter-drill. + +"Change!" called their coach and with a single swoop Meacham flung his +drill back into the crowd and caught up his hammer to strike. His +partner dropped his hammer and chucked in a fresh drill--_smash_, +the hammer struck it into the rock--and so they turned and struck while +the ramping miners below them looked on in envious amazement. As each +drill was thrown out it was brought back from where it fell and examined +by the quick-eyed coach, and as he called off the half minutes he +announced their probable depth as indicated by the mud marks on the +drills. Across the block from the two drillers knelt a man with a rubber +tube who poured water into the churning hole; and at each blow of the +hammer the gray mud leapt up, splashing turner and hammer-man alike. + +At the end of five minutes they were down fifteen inches, at ten they +still held their pace; but as Denver glanced doubtfully at his coach and +Owen the sound of the drilling changed. There was a grating noise, a +curse from the turner, and as he flung out the drill and thrust in +another a murmur went up from the crowd. They had broken the bit from +the brittle edge of their drill and the new drill was grinding away on +the fragment, which dulled the keen edge of the steel. The quick ears of +the miners could sense the different sound as the drill champed the +fragment to pieces, and when the next change was made the mud-marks on +the drill showed that over an inch had been lost. A team working at top +speed averaged three inches to the minute, driving down through hard +Gunnison granite; but Meacham and his partner had lost their fast start +and they had yet four minutes to go. The tall Cornishman's eyes +gleamed--he struck harder than ever--but Meacham had begun to lose +heart. The accident upset him, and the grate of the broken steel as the +drill bit down on chance fragments; and as his coach urged him on he +glanced up from his turning with a look that Denver knew well. It was +the old pig-eyed glare, the look of unreasoning resentment, that he had +seen on the Fourth of July. + +"He's quitting," chuckled Owen when Meacham rose to strike; but when the +hole was measured it came to forty-three and fifteen-sixteenths of an +inch. The big Cornishman had done it in spite of his partner, he had +refused to accept defeat; and now, with only two more teams to compete, +they led by nearly an inch. + +"You can beat it!" cried Denver's coach, "I've done better than that +myself! Forty-four! You can make forty-six!" + +"I'm game," answered Denver, "but it takes two to win. Do you think you +can stick it out, Tom?" + +"I'll be up there, trying," returned Owen grimly and Denver nodded to +the coach. + +The next team did no better, for it is a heart-breaking test and the sun +was getting hot, and when Denver and Owen mounted up on the platform a +hush fell upon the crowd. Denver Russell they knew, but Owen was a new +man; and a drilling contest is won on pure nerve. Would he crack, like +Meacham, as the end approached, or would he stand up to the punishment? +They looked on in silence as Denver spread out his drills--a full +twenty, oil-tempered, of the best Norway steel, each narrower by a hair +than its predecessor. The starter was short and heavy, with an +inch-and-a-quarter bit; and the last long drill had a seven-eighths bit, +which would just cut a one-inch hole. They were the best that money +could buy and a famous tool-sharpener in Miami had tempered their edges +to perfection. Denver picked up his starter, all the officials left the +platform, and Owen raised his hammer. + +"Are the drillers ready?" challenged the umpire. "Then _go_!" he +shouted, and the double-jack descended with a smash. For thirty seconds +while the drill leapt and bounded, Denver held it firmly in its place, +and at the call of "Change!" he chucked it over his shoulder and swung +his own hammer in the air. Owen popped in a new drill, the hammer struck +it squarely and the crowd set up a cheer. Denver was working hard, +striking faster than his partner; and in every stroke there was a +smashing enthusiasm, a romping joy in the work, that won the hearts of +the miners. He was what they had been before drink and bad air had +sapped the first freshness of their strength, or dust and hot stopes had +broken their wind, or accidents had crippled them up--he was a miner, +young and hardy, putting his body behind each blow yet striking like a +tireless automaton. + +"Change!" cried the coach, his voice ringing with pride; and as the +drill came flying back he shouted out the depth which was better than +three inches for the minute. At five minutes it was sixteen, at ten, +thirty-three; but at eleven the pace slackened off and at twelve they +had lost an inch. Tom Owen was weakening, in spite of his nerve, in +spite of his dogged persistence; he struck the same, but his blows had +lost their drive, the drill did not bite so deep. At every stroke, as +Denver twisted the long drill loose and turned it by so much in the +hole, he raised it up and struck it against the bottom, to add to the +weight of the blows. The mud and muck from the hole splashed up into his +face and painted his body a dull gray, but at thirteen minutes they had +lost their lead and Tom Owen was striking wild. Then he missed the steel +and a great voice rose up in mocking, stentorian laughter. + +"Ho! Ho!" it roared, and Denver knew it well--it was Slogger Meacham, +exulting. + +"Here--you turn!" he said flinging out his drill, and as Owen sank down +on his knees by the hole Denver caught up his double-jack and struck. +For a half minute, a minute, he flailed away at the steel; while Owen, +his shoulders heaving, turned the drill like clock-work and gasped to +win back his strength. + +"Thirteen and a half!" announced the coach at last and then he shouted: +"Change!" + +"No--_turn_!" panted Denver, never missing a stroke; and Owen sank +back to his place by the hole while the battery of blows kept on. + +"Fourteen!" proclaimed the coach, "you're about an inch behind. How +about it--do you want to change?" + +"No--turn!" choked Denver. "I'll finish it--_turn_!" And as Owen +straightened his back Denver struck like a mad-man while the sweat +poured down in a shower. The official umpire leapt up on the platform to +toll off the last sixty seconds, but the rise and fall of Denver's body +was faster by far than his count. A frenzy seemed to seize him as the +half minute was called and Owen slipped in their last drill; and with +hoarse, coughing grunts he smashed it deeper and deeper while the miners +surged forward with a cheer. + +"Fifty-eight--fifty-nine--_sixty_!" cried the umpire, slapping him +sharply on the back to stop, and Denver fell like dead across the stone. +His great strength had left him, completely, on the instant; and when he +raised his head there was a grinning crowd around him as his coach was +measuring the last drill. + +"The poor, dom fool!" he exclaimed commiseratingly, "and to think of him +wurruking like thot. He's ahead by two inches and more." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE HEART OF HIS BELOVED + + +There was a celebration that day which warmed Denver's heart and sent +Slogger Meacham cursing out of the camp, but as soon as it was over and +he had his prize money in his hand Denver remembered his unguarded +claim. Bunker Hill was there, of course, but the spiteful Professor had +heralded his pledge afar; and a man who has promised his wife not to +fight is ill-fitted to herd a mine. No, the Silver Treasure lay open for +Dave or Murray to jump, if they felt like contesting his claim; and, +weak as he was, Denver took no rest until he was back where he could +fight for his own. He rode in late and slept like the dead, but in the +morning he was up and down at the store as soon as Old Bunk came out. + +"I win!" he announced holding up the roll of bills, "first money--can +you get me some powder?" + +"W'y, you lucky fool!" exclaimed Bunker admiringly, "seems like +_nothing_ can keep you down. Sure I'll get your powder, and just to +show you what _I_ can do--how's that for a healthy little roll?" He +drew out a roll of bills twice the size of Denver's and fingered them +over lovingly. "A thousand dollars," he murmured, "for an option on half +the Lost Burro. A party came up yesterday and took one look at it and +grabbed it right off the bat, and as soon as old Murray gets in to his +ore they're going to capitalize the Burro for a million. Fine name that, +for stock-selling--known all over the world, in England, Paris and +everywhere--but I made 'em come through with a thousand dollars cash, so +Drusilla could have a good stake. She's thinking of going East, soon." + +"'S that so?" said Denver, trying to take it all in, "are these parties +going to do any work?" + +"Well, that's an unfair question, as Pecos Edwards used to say when they +asked him if all Texans was cow-thieves; but you know how these +promoters work. There'll be lots of work done; but mostly by lawyers, +and publicity men and such. There's a whole lot of water in the workings +of the Lost Burro that'll have to be pumped out first, and then there's +a little job of timbering that'll cost a world of money. No, I sold them +that mine on the ore in your tunnel--I will say, it shows up splendid. +If you'd've been here yesterday you might have made a deal that +would----" + +"Not on your life!" broke in Denver, "I don't sell to anybody. But say, +but what did they think of my mine?" + +"Think!" exclaimed Bunker, "they stopped thinking right here, when I +showed 'em that big vein of copper! They went crazy, just like lunatics; +because it ain't often, I'm telling you, that you find sixty-per-cent +copper on the surface." + +"Not in a fissure vein--no," agreed Denver emphatically, "I wouldn't +sell out for a million. Did those promoters take away any samples?" + +"Well, yes; a few," responded Bunker apologetically, "I didn't think +you'd object." + +"Why, of course not," answered Denver, "it'll advertise the district and +bring in some outside people. And now that I've got another stake I'm +going to sack my ore and make a trial shipment to the smelter. But you +bet your boots, after what Murray put over on me, I'm going to have some +assaying done first." + +"Yes, and keep some samples," advised Bunker wisely. "Keep a sample out +of every bag." + +"I'll just mix that ore up," said Denver cautiously, "and cut it down, +the way they do at the mill. Throw out every tenth shovel and mix 'em up +again and then cut the pile down smaller until you've got a control, +like the ore brokers take at the smelter. And then I'll send a sample to +the assayer--say, there's Drusilla over there, trying to call you." + +"She's trying to call you," answered Bunker Hill shortly and went on +into the store. + +"Well, be sure and order that powder," shouted Denver after him. "And +say, I'll want the rest of those ore-sacks." + +"All right," replied Bunker and Denver turned to the house where +Drusilla was waiting on the porch. + +"Did you hear the news?" she asked dancing ecstatically to and fro; as +if she were a Delilah, leading the Philistine maidens in the "Spring +Song," and he were another Samson. "I'm expecting to go East now, soon." + +"Good!" exclaimed Denver. "Well, I won't see you much then--I'm going to +work in the mine." + +"Yes, isn't it grand?" she cried. "Everything is coming out fine--but +you must come down to dinner to-night. I'm going to sing, just for you." + +"I'll be there," smiled Denver, and then he stopped. "But let's not make +it to-night," he said, "I'm dead on my feet for sleep." + +"Well, sleep then," she laughed, "and get rested from your contest--I'm +awfully glad you won. And then----" + +"Nope, can't come to-night," he answered soberly, "I want to get that +ore sacked to-day. And I'm stiff as a strip of burnt raw-hide." + +"Well, to-morrow night," she said, "unless you don't want to come. But +you'll have to come soon or----" + +"Oh, I want to come, all right," interposed Denver hastily, "you know +that, without telling. But my partner played out on me before the end of +the contest and I had to finish the striking myself. And then I rode +hard to get back here, before Dave or some gun-man jumped my claim." + +"Then to-morrow night," she smiled, "but don't you forget, because if +you do I'll never forgive you." + +She danced away into the house and Denver turned in his tracks and went +to look over his ore-sacks. They were old and torn, what was left of a +big lot that Bunker had got in a trade; but Denver picked out the best +and wheeled them up to his dump, where his picked ore lay waiting for +shipment. He had a big lot, much larger than he had thought, and it was +just as it had been shot down from the breast. Some was silver-lead; and +there was copper to boot, though that would hardly do to ship. Yet at +thirty cents a pound copper was almost a precious metal, and a report +from the smelter would be a check. He would know from that how the ore +really ran and how much he would be penalized for the zinc. So he picked +out the best of it and broke it up fine, for the rough chunks would not +do to sack; and before he had more than got started with his sampling +the sun had gone down behind the ridge. And he was tired--too tired to +eat. + +There was music that night at the big house below but Denver could not +hold up his head. Nature had drugged him with sleep, like a romping +child that takes no thought of its strength, and in the morning he woke +up in a sort of stupor that could not be worked off. Yet he worked, +worked hard, for McGraw had arrived and the ore must be loaded that day; +so they threw in together, Denver sacking the heavy ore and McGraw +wheeling it out to the wagon. They toiled on till dark, for McGraw +started early and the work could not be put off till to-morrow; and when +it was over Denver staggered up to his cave like an old and outworn man. +He was reeking with sweat, his hands were like talons, the ore-dust had +left his face gray; and all he thought of was sleep. For a moment he +roused up, as if he remembered some new duty--something pleasant, yet +involving further effort--and then his candle went out. He fell asleep +in his chair and when he awoke it was only to stumble to his bed. + +The sun was over the Leap when he opened his heavy eyes and gazed at the +rude squalor of his cave. The dishes were unwashed, the floor was dirty, +a long-tailed rat hung balanced on the table-edge--and he was tired, +tired, tired. He heaved himself up and reached for the water-bucket but +he had forgotten to fill it at the creek. Now he grabbed it up +impatiently and started down the trail, every joint of his body +protesting, and when he had climbed back he was weak from the +effort--his bank account with Mother Nature was overdrawn. He was worn +out, at last; and his poor, tired brain took no thought how to make up +the deficit. All he wanted was rest, something to eat, a drink of water. +A drink of water anyway, and sleep. He drank deep and bathed his face, +then sank back on the bed and let the world whirl on. + +It was late in the day when he awoke again and hunger was gnawing his +vitals; but the slow stupor was gone, he was himself again and the +cramps had gone out of his limbs. He rose up luxuriously and cut a can +of tomatoes, drinking the juice and eating the fruit, and then he lit a +fire and boiled some strong coffee and cooked up a great mess of food. +There was two cans of corn and a can of corned beef, heated together in +a swimming sea of bacon grease and eaten direct from the frying-pan. It +went to the spot and his drooping shoulders straightened, the spring +came back into his step; yet as he cleaned up the dishes and changed to +decent clothes the weight of some duty seemed to haunt him. Was it +McGraw? No, he had loaded the last sack and sent him on his way. It was +Drusilla--she had been going to sing for him. + +Denver stepped to the door and looked down at the house and his heart +sank low at the thought. They had invited him to dinner and he had +forgotten to come, he had gone home and fallen asleep. And no one had +come to call him--or to inquire what had kept him away. A heavy guilt +came over him as he gazed down at the house with its broad porch and +trailing Virginia creepers, the Hills would take it very ill to have +their invitation ignored. Old Bunk had told him the time before, when he +had invited him in to dinner: "Now, for the last time, Denver----" and +it would take more than mere words to ever mend that breach. Denver +paced back and forth, undecided what to do, and at last he decided to do +nothing. As the sun went down he ate another supper and drugged his +sorrows with sleep. + +The next morning he rose early and shaved and bathed and put on his last +clean shirt, and then he walked down to the town; but the store was +locked, there was no voices from the house, only a smoke from the +kitchen stove. He went on to his mine and looked it over, and as he +passed the Professor leered out at him; there was something that he +knew, some bad news or spiteful gossip, for he found pleasure only in +evil. Denver came back down the street, that was now as deserted as it +had been before the stampede, and once more the Professor looked out. + +"Vell," he said, "so you haf lost your sveetheart!" And he chuckled and +shut the door softly. + +Denver stopped and stood staring, hardly crediting the news, yet +conscious of the sinister exulting. The Professor was glad, therefore +the news was bad; but what did he mean by those words? Had Drusilla gone +away or had she thrown him over for neglecting to keep his engagement? +She had probably spoken her mind as she watched for him at the doorway +and the Professor had been out there, eavesdropping. + +"What are you talking about?" he demanded at last but the Professor only +tittered. Then he dropped the heavy bar across his door and Denver took +the hint to move on. He went down past the house and looked it over +hopefully, but as no one came out he pocketed his pride and knocked, +like a hobo battering the door for a meal, Mrs. Hill came out slowly as +if preoccupied with other things, but when he saw her eyes he knew she +had been crying and that Drusilla had really gone. + +"I'm sorry," he began and then he stopped; there was nothing that he +could say. "Has Drusilla gone?" he asked at length and Mrs. Hill +answered him, almost kindly. + +"Yes," she said, "she was summoned by a telegram. Her father took her +down this morning." + +He stood thinking a minute, then he shook his head regretfully and +started off down the steps. + +"She was sorry not to have seen you," she added gently but Denver made +no reply. He was weak again now and inadequate to life; he could only +crawl back like some dumb, wounded animal, to the sheltering gloom of +his cave. But as he sat there stolidly, now trying to make some plan, +now endeavoring to become reconciled to his fate, a rage swept over him +like a storm-wind that shakes a tree and he burst into gusty oaths. The +fates had turned against him, his horoscope had come to nothing; he had +followed the admonitions of Mother Trigedgo and this was the result of +her advice. She had told him to beware how he revealed his affection, +but nothing about what to do when he had fallen asleep while his beloved +sang only for him. + +He drew out the Oraculum, by which the Man of Destiny had ordered the +least affairs of his life, and read down through the thirty-two +questions. Only once on each day could he consult the mystic oracle, and +once only in each month on the same subject, lest the fates be outworn +by his insistence. At first it was Number Thirteen that appealed to his +fancy: + +"Will the FRIEND I most reckon upon prove faithful or TREACHEROUS?" But +he knew without asking that, whatever her failings, Drusilla would never +prove treacherous. No, since he had taken her for his friend he would +never question her faithfulness; Number Twenty-six was more to his +liking: + +"Does the person whom I love, LOVE and regard me?" + +He spread out a sheet of paper on his littered table and dashed off the +five series of lines, and then he counted each carefully and made the +dots at the end--two dots for the two lines that came even and one for +those that came odd. The first two came odd, the next two even, the last +one odd again; and under that symbol the Oraculum Key referred him to +section B for his answer. He turned to the double pages with its +answers, good and bad, and his brain whirled while he read these words: + +"Thy heart of thy beloved yearneth toward thee." + +He closed the book religiously and put it away, and his heart for the +moment was comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +COLONEL DODGE + + +Denver doubted it, himself, for human nature is much the same in man and +woman and Drusilla had been sorely slighted; but the Oraculum had said +that her heart was yearning towards him and the Book of Fate had always +spoken true. Perhaps women _were_ different, but if it had been +done to him, he would have called down black curses instead. Yet women +were different, one could never guess their moods, and perhaps Drusilla +would forgive him. Not right away, of course, but after her blood had +cooled and he had written a proper letter. He would let it go awhile, +until he had framed up some excuse or decided to tell her the truth, and +in the meantime there was plenty of work to do that would help him +forget his sorrow. There was his mine, and McGraw had brought up some +powder. + +There was something in the air which seemed to whisper to Denver of +portentous happenings to come, and as he was sharpening up his steel for +a fresh assault upon the ore-body a big automobile came into town. It +stopped and a big man wearing a California sombrero and a pair of +six-buckle boots leapt out and led the way to the Lost Burro. Behind him +followed three men attired as gentlemen miners and as Denver listened he +could hear the big man as he recited the history of the mine. +Undoubtedly it was the buyer of the Lost Burro Mine, with a party of +"experts" and potential backers who had come up to look over the ground; +yet something told Denver that there was more behind it all. He felt +their eyes upon him. They spent a few minutes looking over the old +workings, and then they came stringing up his trail. + +"Good afternoon, sir," hailed the promoter, "are you the owner of this +property? Well, I'd like with your permission to show my friends some of +your ore--why, what's this, have you hauled it away?" + +"Yes, I shipped it out yesterday," answered Denver briefly and the big +man glanced swiftly at his friends. + +"Well, I'm Colonel Dodge--H. Parkinson Dodge--you may have heard the +name. I'm your neighbor here on the south--we've taken over the Lost +Burro property. Yes, glad to know you, Mr. Russell." He shook hands and +introduced his friends all around, after which he came to the point. +"We've been looking at the Lost Burro and one of the gentlemen suggested +that it might be well to enlarge our property. That would make it more +attractive to worth-while buyers and at the same time prevent any future +litigation in case our ore-bodies should join. You understand what I +mean--there's such a thing as apex decision and of course you hold the +higher ground. Well, before we do any work or tie up our money we would +like to know just exactly where we stand in relation to surrounding +properties. What price do you put on your claim?" + +"No price," answered Denver. "I don't want to sell. Are you thinking of +opening up the Lost Burro?" + +"That will all depend," hinted the Colonel darkly, "upon the attitude of +the people in the district. If we meet with encouragement we intend to +form a company and spend hundreds of thousands of dollars; but if not, +why we will charge up our option money to profit and loss and seek out a +less backward community. What is your lowest price on your claim?" + +"A million dollars--cash," responded Denver cheerfully. "Now you come +through and make me an offer." + +"Well," began the Colonel, and then he stopped and glanced suggestively +at the tunnel. "We'd like to look it over first." + +"Fair enough," replied Denver and, giving each a candle, he led them +into the tunnel. They looked the ore over, making indifferent comments +and asking permission to take samples, and then Colonel Dodge took one +of his experts aside and they conferred in muffled tones. + +"Er--we'd rather not make an offer just now," said the Colonel at last; +and in a silent procession they returned to the daylight, leaving Denver +to follow behind. The atmosphere of the group was now reeking with gloom +but after a long conference the Colonel came back, summoning up the +ghost of a smile. "Well, I'll tell you, Mr. Russell," he began +apologetically, "we saw some of your ore before we came up and we were +all of us most enthusiastic. The copper in particular was very promising +but the gentleman I was talking with is our consulting engineer and he +advises me not to buy the property." + +"All right," answered Denver, "you don't have to buy it. I never saw one +of these six-buckle men yet that wouldn't knock a good claim." He turned +back angrily to his job of tool-sharpening and the Colonel followed +after him solicitously. + +"Don't misunderstand me," he said, "there's nothing I'd like better than +to buy in this neighboring property--if I could get it at a reasonable +figure; but Mr. Shadd advises me that your ore lies in a gash-vein, +which will undoubtedly pinch out at depth." + +"A gash-vein!" echoed Denver, "why the poor, ignorant fool--can't you +see that the vein is getting bigger? Well, how can it be a gash-vein +when it's between two good walls and increasing in width all the time? +Your friend must think I'm a prospector." + +"Oh, no," protested the Colonel smiling feebly at the joke, "but--well, +he advises me not to buy. The fact that the ore is so rich on the +surface is against its continuance at depth. All gash-veins, as you +know, are very rich at the surface; so in this case the fact is against +you. But I tell you what I will do--just to protect my other property +and avoid any future complications--I'll give you a thousand dollars for +your claim." + +"Whooo!" jeered Denver, "I'll get more than that for the ore I just sent +to the smelter. No, I'm no thousand-dollar man, Mr. Dodge. I've got a +fissure vein and it's increasing at depth, so I guess I'll just hold on +a while. You wait till old Murray begins to ship!" + +"Ah--er--well, I'll give you fifteen hundred," conceded the Colonel +drawing out his check-book and pen. "That's the best I can possibly do." + +"Well save your check then, because I'm a long ways from broke. What +d'ye think of that for a roll?" Denver drew out his roll of prize money, +with a hundred dollar bill on top, and flickered the edges of the +twenties. "I guess I can wait a while," he grinned. "Come around again, +when I'm broke." + +"I'll give you a thousand dollars down and nine thousand in six months," +burst out the Colonel with sudden vehemence. "Now it's that or +absolutely nothing. If you try to hold me up I'll abandon my option and +withdraw entirely from the district." + +"Sorry to lose you, old-timer," returned Denver genially, "but I guess +we can't do business. Come around in about a month." + +A sudden flash came into the Colonel's bold eyes and he opened his mouth +to speak--then he paused and shut his mouth tight. + +"Not on your life, Mr. Russell," he said with finality, "if I go I will +not come back. Now give me your lowest cash price for the property. Will +you accept ten thousand dollars?" + +"No, I won't," answered Denver, "nor a hundred thousand, either. I'm a +miner--I know what I've got." + +"Very well, Mr. Russell," replied Colonel Dodge crisply and, bowing +haughtily, he withdrew. + +Denver looked after him laughing, but something about his stride +suddenly wiped away the grin from Denver's face--the Colonel was going +somewhere. He was going with a purpose, and he walked like a man who was +perfectly sure of his next move--like a man who has seen a snake in the +road and turns back to cut a club. It was distinctly threatening and a +light dawned on Denver when the automobile turned off towards Murray's +camp. That was it, he was an agent of Murray. + +Denver sharpened up his steel and put in a round of holes but all that +day and the next his uneasiness grew until he jumped at every sound. He +felt the hostility of Colonel Dodge's silence more than any that words +could express; and when, on the second day, he saw Professor +Diffenderfer approaching he stopped his work to watch him. + +"Vell, how are you?" began the Professor, trying to warm up their +ancient friendship; and then, seeing that Denver merely bristled the +more, he cast off his cloak of well-wishing. "I vas yoost over to +Murray's camp," he burst out vindictively, "and Dave said he vanted his +gun." + +"Tell 'im to come over and get it," suggested Denver and then he +unbuckled his belt. "All right," he said handing over the gun and +cartridges, "here it is; I don't need it, anyhow." The Professor blinked +and looked again, then reached out and took the belt doubtfully. + +"Vot you mean?" he asked at last as his curiosity got the better of him, +"have you got anudder gun somevhere? Dot Dave, he svears he vill kill +you." + +"That's all right," replied Denver, "just give him his gun--I'll take +him on any day, with rocks." + +"How you mean 'take him on?'" inquired the Professor all excitement but +Denver waved him away. + +"Go on now," he said, "and give him his gun. I guess he'll know what I +mean." + +But if Chatwourth understood the hidden taunt he did not respond to the +challenge and Denver's mind reverted to H. Parkinson Dodge and his +flattering offers for the mine. Ten thousand dollars cash, from a mining +promoter, was indeed a princely sum; better by far than the offer of +half a million shares that went with Bunker's option. For stock is the +sop that is thrown to poor miners in lieu of the good hard cash, but ten +thousand dollars was a lot of money for a promoter to pay for a claim. +It showed that there were others beside himself who believed in the +value of his property, yet who this Colonel Dodge was or who were his +backers was a question that only Bunker could answer. Denver waited in a +sweat, now wondering if Bunker would speak to him, nor exulting in the +offer for his mine; and when at last he saw Bunker Hill drive in he +threw down his tools and hurried towards him. + +But Bunker Hill was surly, he barely glanced at Denver and went on +caring for his horses; and Denver did not crowd him. He waited, and at +last Old Bunk looked up with jaw thrust grimly out. + +"Well?" he said, and Denver forgot everything but the question that was +on his tongue. + +"Say," he burst out, "who is this Colonel Dodge that came up and bought +your mine? Is he working for Murray, or what?" + +"Search me," grumbled Bunker, "I got his thousand dollars, and that's +about all I know." + +"He was up here to see me the same day you left, with a whole load of +six-buckle experts; and say, he offered me a check for ten thousand +dollars if I'd sell him the Silver Treasure claim. And when I refused it +he got into his machine and went right over to Murray's. I'll bet you +you're sold out to Bible-Back." + +"Well, he's stuck then," said Bunker. "I guess you haven't heard the +news--Murray's closed down his camp for good." + +"He has!" exclaimed Denver, and then he laughed heartily. "He's a foxy +old dastard, isn't he?" + +"You said it," returned Bunker. "Never did have any ore. Just pretended +he had in order to sell stock and recoup what he'd lost on the drilling. +They're offering the stock for nothing." + +"Who's offering it?" demanded Denver suddenly taking the matter +seriously. "I'll bet you it's nothing but a fake!" + +"All right," shrugged Bunker, "but I met a bunch of miners and they were +swapping stock for matches. Old Tom Buchanan down at Desert Wells won't +accept it at any price--that shows how much it's a fake." + +"Aw, he pulled that once before," answered Denver contemptuously, "but +he don't fool me again. Like as not he's made a strike and is just +shutting down so he can buy back the stock he sold." + +Bunker looked up and grunted, then gathered together his purchases and +ambled off towards the house. + +"That's all you think about, ain't it?" he said at parting. "I'll +mention it when I write to Drusilla." + +"Oh--oh, yes," stammered Denver suddenly reminded of his dereliction, +"say, how did she happen to go? And I want to get her address so I can +explain how it happened--I wouldn't have missed seeing her for +anything!" + +"No, of course not," growled Bunker, "not for anything but your own +interests. You can go to hell for your address." + +"Why, what do you mean?" demanded Denver; but as Bunker did not answer +he fell back and let him go on. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE ANSWER + + +There are some kinds of questions which require no answers and others +which answer themselves. Denver had asked Bunker what he meant when he +refused Drusilla's address and intimated that he was unworthy of her +friendship, but after a gloomy hour in the deepening twilight the +question answered itself. Bunker had taken his daughter across the +desert, on her way to the train and New York, and his curt remarks were +but the reflex of her's as she discussed Denver's many transgressions. +He thought more of mines and of his own selfish interests than he did of +her and her art, and so she desired to hear no more of him or his +protestations of innocence. That was what the words meant and as Denver +thought them over he wondered if it was not true. + +Drusilla had greeted him cordially when he had returned from Globe and +had invited him to dinner that same night, but he had refused because he +needed the sleep and begrudged the daylight to take it. And the next day +he had worked even harder than before and had forgotten her invitation +entirely. She was to sing just for him and, after the singing, she would +have told him all her plans; and then perhaps they might have spoken of +other things and parted as lovers should. But no, he had spoiled it by +his senseless hurry in getting his ore off with McGraw; and now, with +all the time in the world on his hands, the valley below was silent. Not +a scale, not a trill, not a run or roulade; only silence and the frogs +with their devilish insistence, their ceaseless _eh_, _eh_, +_eh_. He rose up and heaved a stone into the creek-bed below, then +went in and turned on his phonograph. + +They were real people to him now, these great artists of the discs; +Drusilla had described them as she listened to the records and even the +places where they sang. She had pictured the mighty sweep of the +Metropolitan with its horse-shoe of glittering boxes; the balconies +above and the standing-room below where the poor art-students gathered +to applaud; and he had said that when he was rich he would subscribe for +a box and come there just to hear her sing. And now he was broke, and +Drusilla was going East to run the perilous gauntlet of the tenors. He +jerked up the stylus in the middle of a record and cursed his besotted +industry. If he had let his ore go, and gone to see her like a +gentleman, Drusilla might even now be his. She might have relented and +given him a kiss--he cursed and stumbled blindly to bed. + +In the morning he went to work in the close air of the tunnel, which +sadly needed a fan, and then he hurled his hammer to the ground and felt +his way out to daylight. What was the use of it all; where did it get +him to, anyway; this ceaseless, grinding toil? Murray's camp had shut +down, the promoters had vanished, Pinal was deader than ever; he +gathered up his tools and stored them in his cave, then sat down to +write her a letter. Nothing less than the truth would win her back now +and he confessed his shortcomings humbly; after which he told her that +the town was too lonely and he was leaving, too. He sealed it in an +envelope and addressed it with her name and when he was sure that Old +Bunk was not looking he slipped in and gave it to her mother. + +"I'm going away," he said, "and I may not be back. Will you send that on +to Drusilla?" + +"Yes," she smiled and hid it in her dress; but as he started for the +door she stopped him. + +"You might like to know," she said, "that Drusilla has received an +engagement. She is substitute soprano in a new Opera Company that is +being organized to tour the big cities. I'm sorry you didn't see her." + +"Yes," answered Denver, "I'm sorry myself--but that never bought a man +anything. Just send her the letter and--well, goodby." + +He blundered out the door and down the steps, and there stretched the +road before him. In the evening he was as far as Whitlow's Well and a +great weight seemed lifted from his breast. He was free again, free to +wander where he pleased, free to make friends with any that he met--for +if the prophecy was not true in regard to his mine it was not true +regarding his friends. And how could any woman, by cutting a pack of +cards and consulting the signs of the zodiac, predict how a man would +die? Denver made himself at home with a party of hobo miners who had +come in from the railroad below, and that night they sat up late, +cracking jokes and telling stories of every big camp in the West. It was +the old life again, the life that he knew and loved, drifting on from +camp to camp with every man his friend. Yet as he stretched out that +night by the flickering fire he almost regretted the change. He was free +from the great fear, free to make friends with whom he would; but, to +win back the love of the beautiful young artist, he would have given up +his freedom without a sigh. + +His sleep that night was broken by strange dreams and by an automobile +that went thundering by, and in the morning as they cooked a mulligan +together he saw two great motor trucks go past. They were loaded with +men and headed up the canyon and Denver began to look wild. A third +machine appeared and he went out to flag it but the driver went by +without stopping; and so did another, and another. He rushed after the +next one and caught it on the hill but the men pushed him roughly from +the running board. They were armed and he knew by their hard-bitten +faces that it was another party of jumpers. + +"Where are you going?" he yelled but they left him by the road without +even a curse for an answer. Well, he knew then; they were going to +Final, and Murray had fooled him again. Denver had suspected from the +first that Murray's shutdown was a ruse, to shake down the public for +their stock; and now he knew it, and that if his mine was jumped again +it would be held against all comers. Another automobile whirled by; and +then came men that he knew, the miners who owned claims in the district. + +"What's the matter?" he called but they would not stop to talk, simply +shouted and beckoned him on. Denver started, right then, without +stopping for breakfast or to pick up his hobo's pack; and soon he caught +a ride with a party of prospectors whose claims he had once freed from +jumpers. + +"It's a big strike!" they clamored, hauling him in and rushing on. "Old +Murray struck copper in his tunnel! _Rich?_ Hell, yes!" And they +gave him all the details as the machine lurched along up the road. + +Murray had struck another ore-body, entirely different from the first +one--the copper had come out the drill-holes like pure metal--and then +he had shut down and rushed the machine-men away before they could tell +of the strike. But they had got loose down in Moroni and showed the +drill-dust and every man that saw it had piled into his machine and +joined the rush for Murray's. + +"Jumped again!" muttered Denver and when he arrived in Pinal he found +his mine swarming with men. They had built a barricade and run a pipe +line down the hill to pump up water from the creek, and when he appeared +they ordered him off without showing so much as a head. And he went, for +the swiftness of the change had confused him; he was whipped before he +began. There was no use to fight or to put up a bluff, the men behind +the wall were determined; and while, according to law, they held no +title the law was far away. It was a weapon for rich men who could +afford to pay the price; but how could he, a poor man, hope to win back +his claim when it was held by Bible-Back Murray? He went down to the +store, where the Miners' Meeting was assembled, and beckoned Bunker +aside. + +"Mr. Hill," he said, "you promised me one time to give me the loan of a +gun. Well, now is the time I need it." + +"Nope," warned Bunker, "you ain't got a chance. Them fellers are just up +here to get you." + +"Well, for self-defense!" protested Denver, "Dave sent word he'd kill +me." + +"Keep away, then," advised Bunker, "don't give him no chance. But if +them fellers should jump on you, just run to my house and I'll slip you +the old Injun-tamer." + +Denver went out on the street, now swarming with traffic, and looked up +toward his mine; and as he gazed he walked up closer until he stopped at +the fork of the trails. The men behind the wall were watching him +grimly, without letting their faces be seen; but as he stood there +looking they began to bandy jests and presently to taunt him openly. But +Denver did not answer, for he divined their evil purpose, and at last he +turned quietly away. + +"Hey! Come back here!" roared a voice and Denver whirled in his tracks +for he knew it was Slogger Meacham's. He was standing there now, looking +across the barricade, and as Denver met his gaze he laughed. + +"Ho! Ho!" he rumbled folding his arms across his breast and thrusting +out his huge black mustache. "Well, how do you feel about it now?" + +"Never mind," returned Denver and, leaving him gloating, he hurried away +down the trail. Old Bunk was right, they had come there to get him, and +there was no use playing into their hands; yet at thought of Slogger +Meacham his hair began to bristle and he muttered half-formed threats. +The Slogger had come to get him--and Dave Chatwourth was behind there, +too--the whole district was dominated by their gang; but the times would +change and with inrush of other men the jumpers would soon be +out-numbered. It was better then to wait, to let the excitement die down +and law and order return; and then, with a deputy sheriff at his back, +he could eject them by due process of law. The claim was his, his papers +were recorded and no lawyer could question their validity--no, the best +thing was to let the jumpers rage, to say nothing and keep out of sight. +That was all that he had to do. + +But to avoid them was not so easy, for as the day wore on and no attempt +was made to oust them, the jumpers walked boldly into town. At first it +was Chatwourth, to buy some tobacco and break in on the Miners' Meeting; +and then Slogger Meacham, a huge mountain of a man, came ambling down +the street. He slouched down on the store platform and leered about him +evilly, but Denver had retreated to his cave under the cliff and the +Slogger returned to the mine. Then they came down in a body, Chatwourth +and Meacham and all the jumpers; but though his mine was left open +Denver refrained from going near it, for their purpose was becoming very +plain. They were trying to inveigle him into openly opposing them, after +which they would have a pretext for resorting to actual violence. But +their plans went no further for he remained in retirement and the +Miners' Meeting adjourned. Soon the street was deserted, except for +their own numbers, and they returned to the mine with shrill whoops. + +From his lookout above Denver watched them with a smile, for his nerve +had come back to him now. Now that Murray had made his strike, and +increased the value of the Silver Treasure by a thousand per cent over +night, Denver's mind had swung back like a needle to the pole to his +former belief in the prophecy. He had doubted it twice and renounced it +twice, but each time as if by an act of Providence he was rebuked for +his lack of faith. Now he _knew_ it was so--that the mine would be +restored and that only his dearest friend could kill him. So he smiled +almost pityingly at the loud-mouthed jumpers and went boldly down the +trail. + +The hush of evening was in the air when he knocked at Bunker Hill's door +and after a look about Old Bunk went back into the house and brought out +a heavy pistol. It was an old-fashioned six-shooter of the Indian-tamer +type--a single action, wooden-handled forty-five--and Bunker fingered it +lovingly as he handed it over to Denver. + +"For self-defense, understand," he said beneath his breath, "and look +out, that bunch is sure ranicky." + +"Much obliged," responded Denver and tested the action before he slipped +the gun in its belt. He was starting for his cave, when from his cabin +up the street the Professor came out and beckoned him. + +"What do you want?" called Denver; then, receiving no answer, he strode +impatiently up the street. + +"Come in," urged the Professor touching his nose for secrecy, "come in, +I vant to show you some-t'ing." + +"Well, show it to me here," answered Denver but the Professor drew him +inside the house. + +"You look oudt vat you do," he warned mysteriously, "dem joompers are +liable to see you." + +"I should worry," said Denver and, whipping out the gun, he made the +motions of fanning the hammer. + +"Now, now," reproved Diffenderfer drawing back in a panic; and then he +laughed, but nervously. + +"Well, what do you want to show me?" demanded Denver bluntly. "Hurry up +now--I hear somebody coming." + +"Oh, nutting--come again!" exclaimed the Professor apprehensively. "Come +to-morrow--I show you everyt'ing!" + +"You'll show me now," returned Denver imperturbably, "I'm not afraid of +the whole danged bunch. Come on, what have you got--a bottle?" + +"Yoost a piece of copper from Murray's tunnel--Mein Gott, I hear dem +boys coming!" + +He sprang to the door and dropped the heavy bar but Denver struck it up +and stepped out. + +"What the hell are you trying to do?" he demanded suspiciously and the +door slammed to behind him. + +"Run! Run!" implored the Professor staring out through his peep-hole but +Denver lolled negligently against the house. A crowd of men, headed by +Slogger Meacham, were coming down the street; but it was not for him to +fly. He had a gun now, as well as they, and his back was against the +wall. They could pass by or stop, according to their liking; but the +show-down had come, there and now. + +They came on in a bunch down the middle of the street, ignoring his +watchful glances; but as the rest trampled past Slogger Meacham turned +his head and came to a bristling halt. + +"Well," he said, "out for a little airing?" And the jumpers swung in +behind him. + +"Yes," answered Denver regarding him incuriously and the Slogger moved a +step or two closer. + +"You start anything around here," he went on significantly, "and you'll +be airing the smoke out of your clothes. We got your number, see, and +we're here to put your light out if you start to make a peep." + +"Is that so?" observed Denver still standing at a crouch and one or two +of the men walked off. + +"Come on, boys," they said but Meacham stood glowering and Chatwourth +stepped out in front of him. "I hear," he said to Denver, "that you've +been making your brag that you kin whip me with a handful of stones." + +"Never mind, now," replied Denver, "I'm not looking for trouble. You go +on and leave me alone." + +"I'll go when I damned please!" cried Chatwourth in a passion and as he +advanced on Denver the crowd behind him suddenly gave a concerted shove. +Denver saw the surge coming and stepped aside to avoid it, undetermined +whether to strike out or shoot; but as he was slipping away Slogger +Meacham made a rush and struck him a quick blow in the neck. He whirled +and struck back at him, the air was full of fists and guns, swung like +clubs to rap him on the head; and then he went down with Meacham on top +of him and a crashing blow ringing in his ears. When he came to his +senses he was stripped and mauled and battered, and a stranger stood +over him with a gun. + +"You're my prisoner," he said and Denver sat up startled. + +"Why--what's the matter?" he asked looking about at the crowd that had +gathered on the scene of the fight, "what's the matter with that jasper +over there?" + +"He's dead--that's all," answered the officer laughing shortly, "you hit +him over the head with this gun." + +"I did not!" burst out Denver, "I never even drew it. Say, who is that +fellow, anyway?" + +"Name was Meacham," returned the officer, "come on." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE COURSE OF THE LAW + + +As he lay in his cell in the county jail at Moroni it was borne in upon +Denver that he was caught in some great machine that ground out men as a +mill grinds grain. It had laid a cold hand on him in the person of an +officer of the law, it had inched him on further when a magistrate had +examined him and Chatwourth and his jumpers had testified; and now, as +he awaited his day in court, he wondered whither it was taking him. The +magistrate had held him, the grand jury had indicted him--would the +judge and jury find him guilty? And if so, would they send him to the +Pen? His heart sank at that, for the name of "ex-convict" is something +that cannot be laid. No matter what the crime or the circumstances of +the trial, once a man is convicted and sent to prison that name can +always be hurled at him--and Denver knew that he was not guilty. + +He had no recollection of even drawing his gun, to say nothing of +striking at Meacham; and yet Chatwourth and his gang would swear him +into prison if something was not done to stop them. They had come before +the magistrate all agreeing to the same story--that Denver had picked a +fight with his old enemy, Meacham, and struck him over the head with his +six-shooter. And then they showed Denver's pistol; the one he had +borrowed from Bunker, all gory with hair and blood. It was a frame-up +and he knew it, for they had all been striking at him and one of them +had probably hit Meacham; but how was he to prove to the satisfaction of +the court that Murray's hired gun-men were trying to hang him? His only +possible witness was Professor Diffenderfer, and he would not testify to +anything. + +In his examination before the magistrate Denver had called upon the +Professor to explain the cause of his being there; but Diffenderfer had +protested that he had been hiding in his cabin and knew nothing whatever +about the fight. Yet if the facts could be proved, Denver had not gone +up the street to shoot it out with the jumpers; he had gone at the +invitation of this same Professor Diffenderfer who now so carefully +avoided his eye. He had been called to the Professor's cabin to look at +a specimen of the copper from Murray's tunnel; but as Denver thought it +over a shrewd suspicion came over him that he had been lured into a +well-planned trap. They had never been over-friendly so why should this +Dutchman, after opposing him at every turn, suddenly beckon him up the +street and into his cabin just as Chatwourth and his gang came down? And +why, if he was innocent of any share in the plot, did Diffenderfer +refuse to testify to the facts? Denver ground his teeth at the thought +of his own impotence, shut up there like a dog in the pound. He was +helpless, and his lawyer would do nothing. + +The first thing he had done when he was brought to Moroni was to hire a +second-rate lawyer but, after getting his money, the gentleman had spent +his time in preparing some windy brief. What Denver needed was some +witnesses, to swear to his good character, and Diffenderfer to swear to +the facts; and no points of law were going to make a difference as long +as the truth was suppressed. Old Bunk alone stood by him, though he +could do little besides testifying to his previous good character. Day +after day Denver lay in jail and sweated, trying to find some possible +way out; but not until the morning before his trial did he sense the +real meaning of it all. Then a visitor was announced and when he came to +the bars he found Bible-Back Murray awaiting him. + +"Good morning, young man," began Murray smiling grimly, "I was just +passing by and I thought I'd drop in and talk over your case for a +moment." + +"Yes?" said Denver looking out at him dubiously, and the great man +smiled again. He _was_ a great man, as Denver had discovered to his +sorrow, for no one in the country dared oppose him. + +"I regret very much," went on Murray pompously, "to find you in this +position, and if there's anything I can do that is just and right I +shall be glad to use my influence. We have, as you know, here in the +State of Arizona one of the most enlightened governments in the country; +and a word from me, if spoken in time, might possibly save you from +conviction. Or, in case of conviction, our prison law is such that you +might immediately be released under parole. But before I take any +action----" he lowered his voice--"you might give me a quit-claim for +that mine." + +"Oh" said Denver, and then it was that the great ray of light came over +him. He could see it all now, from Murray's first warning to this last +bold demand for his mine; but two months in jail had broken his spirit +and he hesitated to defy the county boss. His might be the hand that +held Diffenderfer back, and it certainly was the one that paid +Chatwourth; he controlled the county and, if what he said was true, had +no small influence in the affairs of the state. And now he gave him the +choice between going to prison or giving up the Silver Treasure. + +"What is this?" inquired Denver, "a hold-up or a frame-up?" + +"I don't know what you're talking about," answered Murray curtly, "but +if you're still in a mood for levity----" He turned away but as Denver +did not stop him he returned of his own will to the bars. + +"Now see here," he said, "this has gone far enough, if you expect to +keep out of prison. I came down here to befriend you and all I ask in +return is a clear title to what is already mine. Perhaps you don't +realize the seriousness of your position, but I tell you right now that +no power on earth can save you from certain conviction. The District +Attorney has informed me that he has an airtight case against you but, +rather than see your whole life ruined, I am giving you this one, last +chance. You are young and headstrong, and hardly realized what you were +doing; and so I say, why not acknowledge your mistake and begin life +over again? I have nothing but the kindest feelings towards you, but I +can't allow my interests to be jeopardized. Think it over--can't you see +it's for the best?" + +"No, I can't," answered Denver, "because I never killed Meacham and I +don t believe any jury will convict me. If they do, I'll know who was +behind it all and govern myself accordingly." + +"Just a slight correction," put in Murray sarcastically, "you will not +govern yourself at all. You will become a ward of the State of Arizona +for the rest of your natural life." + +"Well, that's all right then," burst out Denver, wrathfully, "but I can +tell you one thing--you won't get no quit-claim for your mine. I'll lay +in jail and rot before I'll come through with it, so you can go as far +as you like. But if I ever get out----" + +"That will do, young man," said Murray stepping back, "I see you're +becoming abusive. Very well, let the law take its course." + +He straightened up his wry neck, put his glass eye into place and +stalked angrily out of the jail; and in the hard week that followed +Denver learned what he meant, for the wheels of the law began to grind. +First the District Attorney, in making his charge, denounced him like a +mad-man; then he brought on his witnesses, a solid phalanx, and put them +through their parts; and every point of law that Denver's attorney +brought up he tore it to pieces in an instant. He knew more law in a +minute than the lawyer would learn in a life-time, he could think +circles around him and not try; and when Denver's witnesses were placed +on the stand he cross-examined them until he nullified their testimony. +Even grim-eyed Bunker Hill, after testifying to Denver's character, was +compelled to admit that the first time he saw him he was engaged in a +fight with Meacham. And so it went on until the jury filed back with a +verdict of "Guilty of manslaughter." + +Thus the law took its course over the body and soul of what had once +been a man; and when it was over Denver Russell was a Number with +eighteen years before him. Eighteen years more or less, according to his +conduct, for the laws of the State of Arizona imposed an indeterminate +sentence which might be varied to fit any case. As Murray had intimated, +under the new prison law a man could be paroled the day after he was +sentenced, though he were in for ninety-nine years. That was the law, +and it was just, for no court is infallible and injustice must be +rectified somewhere. After the poor man and his poor lawyer had matched +their puny wits against those of a fighting District Attorney then mercy +must intervene in the name of society and equalize the sentence. For the +District Attorney is hired by the county to send every man to prison, +but no one is hired to defend the innocent or to balance the scales of +justice. + +Denver went to prison like any other prisoner, a rebel against society; +but after a lonely day in his cell he rose up and looked about him. Here +were men like himself--nay, old, hardened criminals--walking about in +civilian clothes, and the gates opened up before them. They passed out +of the walled yard and into the prison fields where there were cattle +and growing crops; and they came back fresh and earthy, after hours of +honest toil with no one to watch or guard them. It was the honor system +which he had read about for years, but now he saw it working; and after +a week he sent word to the Warden that he would give his word not to +escape. That was all they asked of him, his word as a man; and a great +hope came over him and soothed the deep wound that the merciless law had +torn. He raised his head, that had been bowed on his breast, and the +strength came back into his limbs; and when the Warden saw him with a +sledge-hammer in his hands he smiled and sent him up to the road-camp. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +LIKE A HOG ON ICE + + +A month had wrought great changes in the life of Denver Russell, raising +him up from a prisoner, locked up like a mad dog, to the boss of a gang +of road-makers. He was free again, as far as bolts and bars were +concerned; all that kept him to his place was the word he had given and +his pride as an honest man. And now he was out, doing an honest man's +work and building a highway for the state; and by the irony of fate the +road he was improving was the one that led to Pinal. For time had +wrought other changes while he lay in prison and the rough road up the +canyon was swarming with traffic going and coming from Murray's camp. It +was called "Murray" now, and a narrow-gauge railroad was being rushed to +haul out the ore. Teams and motor trucks swung by, hauling in timbers +and machinery, auto stages came and went like the wind; and old Mike +McGraw, who had hauled all the freight for years, looked on in wonder +and awe. + +Yes, Murray was a live camp, a copper camp with millions of dollars +behind it; and Bible-Back himself was a king indeed, for he had tapped +the rich body of ore. It was his courage and aggressiveness that had +made the camp, and the papers all sounded his praise; but still he was +not satisfied and as he passed by Denver Russell he glanced at him +almost appealingly. Here was a man he had broken in order to get his +way, and his efforts had come to nothing; for the Silver Treasure lay +idle, waiting the clearing of its title before the work could go on. And +Denver Russell, swinging his double-jack on a drill, never once returned +the glance. He was stiff-necked and stubborn, though Murray had sent +intermediaries and practically promised to get him a parole. + +A legal point had come up, after Denver had been imprisoned, which +Murray had failed to foresee; the fact that a convict is legally dead +until he has served his term. He cannot transfer property or enter into +a contract or transact any business whatever--nor, on the other hand, +can his mining claims be jumped. As a ward of the State his property is +held in trust until his term has expired. Then he gains back his +identity, if not his citizenship; and with the passing of his number and +the resumption of his name he can enter into contracts once more. +Murray's lawyer had known all this, but Murray had not; and when he +suggested a suit to quiet title to the Silver Treasure old Bible-Back +received a great blow. After all his efforts he found himself +balked--his work must even be undone. Denver Russell must be pardoned, +or at least paroled, and as the price of his freedom he must give his +word not to contest the title to his mine. No papers would be necessary, +in fact they would not be legal; but if his word would prevent him from +escaping from the road-camp it would keep him from claiming his mine. + +Murray attended to the matter himself, for he was in a fever to begin +work; and then Denver Russell struck back--he refused to apply for +parole. Though he was pleasant and amenable, never breaking the prison +rules and holding his gang to their duty, when the kindly parole clerk +offered to present his case to the Board he had flatly and +unconditionally refused. The smouldering fire of his resentment had +blazed up and overmastered him as he sensed the hidden hand of his +enemy, and he had cursed the black name of Murray. That was the +beginning, and now when Murray passed, his glance was almost beseeching. +The price of silver was going up, there were consolidation plans in +sight, and Denver's claim apexed all the rest--Murray pocketed his pride +and, after a word with the guard, drew Denver out of hearing of the +gang. + +"Mr. Russell," he said trying to appear magnanimous, "that offer of mine +holds good. I'll get you a parole to-morrow if you'll give me a +quit-claim to your claim." + +"How can I give you a quit-claim?" inquired Denver defiantly, "a convict +can't give title to anything!" + +"Just give me your word then," suggested Murray suavely and Denver +laughed in his face. + +"You glass-eyed old dastard," he burst out contemptuously, "I know what +you're up to, too well. You're trying to get me paroled so you can take +my mine away from me and I won't dare to raise a hand. But I'll fool +you, old-timer; I'll just serve my term out and then--well, I'll get +back my mine." + +"Is that a threat?" demanded Murray but Denver only smiled and toyed +with his heavy hammer. "Because if it is," went on Murray, "just for +self-protection, I'll see that you don't get out." + +"No, it isn't a threat," answered Denver quietly. "If I wanted to kill +you I'd swing this sledge and knock you on the head, right now. No, I +don't intend to kill you; but a man would be a sucker to play right into +your hands." + +"What do you mean?" asked Murray trying to argue the matter, but Denver +refused to indulge him. + +"Never mind," he said, "you railroaded me to the Pen', but by grab you +can't get me out. I'll just show you I'm as independent as a hog on +ice--if I can't stand up I'll lay down." + +"Then you intend, just to spite me, to remain on in prison when you +might be a free man to-morrow? I can't believe that--it doesn't seem +reasonable." + +"Well, I can't stand here talking," answered Denver impatiently and went +off and left him staring. + +It certainly was unbelievable that any reasoning creature should prefer +confinement and disgrace to freedom, but the iron had burned deep into +Denver's soul and his one desire now was revenge. He had been deprived +of his property and branded a convict by this man who boasted of his +powers; but, like a thrown mule, if he could not have his way he could +at least refuse to get up. He was down and out; but by a miracle of +Providence, a hitch in the wording of the law, the slave-driver Murray +could not proceed with his chariot until this balky mule got up. Denver +knew his rights as a prisoner of the state and his status before the +law; and bowed his head and took the beating stubbornly, punishing +himself a hundred times over to thwart his enemy's plans. As he worked +on the road old friends came by and tried to argue him out of his mood, +even Bunker Hill suggested a compromise; but he only listened sulkily, a +slow smile on his lips, a gleam of smouldering hatred in his eyes. + +So the winter passed by and as spring came on the road-gang drew near to +Murray. From the hills above their camp Denver could see the dumps and +hoists, and the mill that was going up below, and as the ore-trains +glided by on the newly finished narrow-gauge he picked up samples of the +copper. It was the same as his vein, a brassy yellow chalcopyrites with +chunks of red native copper, and he forgot the daily heart-ache and the +ignominy of his task as he contemplated the wealth that awaited him. +Yes, the mine was still his, though he was herded with common felons and +compelled to build a road for Murray; it was his and the law would +protect him, the same law that had sent him to prison. And he was a +prisoner by choice now for both the warden and the parole clerk had +recommended him heartily for parole. + +They treated him like a friend, like a big, wrong-headed boy who was +still sound and good at heart; and he knew that when he went to them and +applied for a parole they would recommend it at once to the Board. But +he was playing a deep game, one that had come to him suddenly when +Murray had suggested a parole, for by refusing to accept his freedom he +made the state his guardian and the receiver of his coveted property. It +was safe, and he could wait; and when the time was ripe he could apply +to the Governor for a pardon. A pardon would remove the taint of +dishonor and restore him to honest citizenship; but a paroled man was +known for an ex-con everywhere--he might as well be back in the +road-gang. Yet it was hard on his pride when the automobiles rushed past +and the passengers looked back and stared, it was hard to have the guard +always watching the gang for fear that some crook might decamp; and only +the thought that he was working out his destiny gave him courage to play +out his hand. + +But how wonderfully had the prophecy of Mother Trigedgo been justified +by the course of events! Not a year before he had come over the Globe +trail in pursuit of Slogger Meacham, and had discovered the Place of +Death. It rose before him now, a solid black wall, and within its shadow +lay the mine of the prophecy, the precious Silver Treasure. He had +chosen the silver treasure, and the yellow chalcopyrites had added its +wealth of copper. And now he but awaited the end of his long ordeal and +the reward of his courage and constancy. Both the silver and gold +treasures were destined to be his; and Drusilla--but there he paused. +Old Bunk had avoided him, Drusilla had not written; yet he had been +careful not to reveal his affection. Not once had he asked for her, only +once had he written; yet perhaps that one letter had defeated him. He +had acknowledged his love, humbly admitted his faults, and begged her to +try to forgive him. Even that might have cost him her love. + +The spring came on warmer, all the palo verde trees burst out in masses +of brilliant yellow, the mezquites hung out tassels of golden fuzz and +the giant cactus donned its crown of orange blossoms. Even the +iron-woods flaunted bloom and the barren, sandy washes turned green with +six-weeks grass. It was a time when rabbits gamboled, when mockingbirds +sang by moonlight and all the world turned young. Denver chafed at his +confinement, one of his Mexicans broke his parole, the hobo miners went +swinging past; and just as the last of his courage was waning Bunker +Hill came riding down the road. He was on his big bay, yet not out after +cattle--he was coming straight towards him. Denver caught his breath, +and waited. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +PAROLE + + +"Mornin', Denver," said Bunker Hill, "here's a letter that come for +you--I forgot to send it down." + +He fumbled in his pocket and Denver's heart stood still, but it was only +his check from the smelter. He slipped it into his shirt without even +glancing at the big total and looked up at Bunker expectantly. + +"Well?" he prompted and Old Bunk twisted in the saddle before he began +to talk. + +"How much did you get for your shipment?" he inquired but Denver +shrugged impatiently. + +"What do I give a damn?" he demanded. "What's up? What you got on your +mind?" + +"Big stuff," replied Bunker, "but I want you to listen to me--they's no +use running off at the head." + +"Who's running off at the head? Go on and shoot your wad. Is it +something about my mine?" + +"Yes--and mine," answered Bunker. "I don't know whether you know it, but +your property apexes the Lost Burro. And another thing, silver has gone +up. But Pinal is just as dead as it was a year ago. The whole camp is +waiting on you." + +"Well, what do you want me to do? Get a parole and give Murray my mine?" + +"No, just get a parole--and then we'll get you a pardon. I'll tell you, +Denver, the Dutchman has begun to talk and it seems he saw your fight. +He's told several people that you never pulled your gun, just struck out +at the crowd with your fists. And if hints and winks count for anything +with him he knows who it was that killed Meacham. He says he was hit +from behind. I've tried everything, Denver, to make that Dutchman talk +or put something down on paper; but he's scared so bad of Murray, and +mebbe of his gun-men, that he won't say a word, unless he's drunk. Now +here's the proposition--old Murray has had you railroaded, and he's sure +going to squeeze you until you let go of that claim. Why not sell out +for a good price, if he'll make the Professor talk and help get you a +pardon from the Governor? You know the Governor, he'll pardon most +anybody, but you've got to give him some excuse. Well, the Professor has +got the evidence to get you out to-morrow--if Murray will just tell him +to talk." + +"What d'ye call a good price?" inquired Denver suspiciously. "Did Murray +put you up to this?" + +"No!" snapped Bunker, "but he named ten thousand dollars as the most he +could possibly give. He owns the Colonel Dodge's interest in the Lost +Burro Mining Company now." + +"Your pardner, eh?" sneered Denver. "Well, where would I get off if I +took this friendly tip? I'd lose my mine, that's worth a million, at +least; and get ten thousand dollars and a parole. A paroled man can't +locate a claim--nor an ex-convict, neither. The Silver Treasure is the +last claim that I'll ever get; and I'm going to hold onto it, by grab!" + +"You're crazy," declared Bunker, "didn't I say we'd get you a pardon? +Well, a pardon restores you to citizenship--you can locate all the +claims you want." + +"Yes, sure; _if_ I'm pardoned! But I know that danged Dutchman--he +wouldn't turn a hand to get me out of the Pen' if you'd give him a +hundred thousand dollars. He's got it in for me, for not buying his +claim when I took the Silver Treasure from you; and more'n that, he's +afraid of me, because if I ever get out----" + +"Oh, don't be a dammed fool all the rest of your life," burst out Bunker +Hill impatiently. "If you'd quiet down a little and quit fighting your +head, maybe your friends would be able to help you. I might as well tell +you that I've been to the Governor and told him the facts of the case; +and he's practically promised, if the Professor will come through, to +give you a full pardon with citizenship. Now be reasonable, Denver, and +quit trying to whip the world, and we'll get you out of this jack-pot. +Give old Murray your mine--you can never law it away from him--and take +your ten thousand dollars; then move to another camp and make a fresh +start where there's nobody working against you. Of course I'm Murray's +pardner--he put one over on me--but at the same time I reckon I'm your +friend. Now there's the proposition and you can take it or leave it--I +ain't going to bother you again." + +"Nope, it don't look good to me," answered Denver promptly, "there's too +many ifs and ands. And I'll stay here till I rot before Bible-Back +Murray will ever get that mine from _me_. He hired that bunch of +gun-men to jump my claim twice when he had no title to the mine, and +then he hired Chatwourth and Slogger Meacham to get me in the door and +kill me. They made a slight mistake and got the wrong man, then sent me +to the Pen' for murder. That's the kind of a dastard you've got for a +pardner but you can tell him I'll never give up. I'll fight till I die, +and if I ever get out----" + +"Yes, there you go again," burst out Bunker Hill bitterly, "you ain't +got the brain of a mule. If I wasn't to blame for loaning you that gun +and leaving you out of my sight, I'd pass up your case for good. But I +didn't have no better sense than to slip you my old six-shooter, and now +Mrs. Hill can't hardly git over it so I'll give you another try. My +daughter, Drusilla, is coming home next week and she hasn't even heard +about this trouble. Now--are you going to stay here and meet her as a +convict, or will you come and meet her like a gentleman. This ain't my +doin's--I'd see you in hell, first--but Mrs. Hill says when you get out +on parole we'll be glad to receive you as our guest." + +Denver stopped and considered, smiling and frowning by turns, but at +last he shook his head mournfully. + +"No," he muttered, "what will she care for a poor ex-con? No, I'm down +and out," he went on to Bunker, "and she'll hear about it, anyhow. It's +too late now to pretend I'm a gentleman--my number has burned in like a +brand. All these other prisoners know me and they'll turn me up +anywhere; if I go to the China Coast one of 'em would show up, sooner or +later, and bawl me out for a convict. No, I'm ruined as a gentleman, and +old Murray did it; but by God, if I live, I'll teach him to regret +it--and he won't make a dollar out of me. That claim is tied up till +John D. Rockefeller himself couldn't get it away from me now; and it'll +lay right there until I serve out my sentence or get a free pardon from +the Governor. I won't agree to anything and----" + +He stopped abruptly and looked away, after which he reached out his +hand. + +"Well, much obliged, Bunk," he said, trying to smile, "I'm sorry I can't +accommodate you. Just thank Mrs. Hill for what she has done and--and +tell her I'll never forget it." + +He went back to his work and old Bunk watched him wonderingly, after +which he rode solemnly away. Then the road-making dragged on--clearing +away brush, blasting out rock, filling in, grading up, making the +crown--but now the road-boss was absent minded and oblivious and his +pride in the job was gone. He let the men lag and leave rough ends, and +every few moments his eyes would stray away and look down the canyon for +the stage. And as the automobiles came up he scanned the passengers +hungrily--until at last he saw Drusilla. There was the fluttering of a +veil, the flash of startled eyes, a quick belated wave, and she was +gone. Denver stood in the road, staring after her blankly, and then he +threw down his pick. + +"Send me back to the Pen'" he said to the guard, "I'm going to apply for +parole." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE INTERPRETATION THEREOF + + +After all his suffering, his oaths, his refusals, his rejection of each +friendly offer, Denver had changed his mind in the fraction of a second +when he saw Drusilla whirl past. He forgot his mine, the fierce battles, +the prophecy--all he wanted was to see her again. Placed on his honor +for the trip he started down the road, walking fast when he failed to +catch a ride, and early the next morning he reported at the prison to +apply for an immediate parole. But luck was against him and his heart +died in his breast, for the Board of Prison Directors had met the week +before and would not meet again for three weeks. Three weeks of idle +waiting, of pacing up and down and cursing the slow passage of time; and +then, perhaps, delays and disappointments and obstructions from +Bible-Back Murray. He sat with bowed head, then rose up suddenly and +wrote a brief letter to Murray. + +"Get me a pardon," he scrawled, "and I'll give you a quit-claim. This +goes, if you do it quick." + +He put it in the mail, with a special delivery stamp, and watched the +endless hours creep by. She was there in Pinal, running her scales, +practicing her exercises, singing arias from the operas at night; and he +was shut in by the gray concrete walls where the guards looked down from +the towers. He could not trust himself now outside of the yard, his +nerve was gone and he would head for Pinal like a homing bird to its +mate. And then it came, quicker than he had ever thought or hoped for, +though he had offered the Silver Treasure in return for it--a full +pardon from the Governor, with his citizenship restored and a letter +expressing confidence in his innocence. Denver clutched it to his breast +and started out across the desert with his eyes on distant Pinal. + +It lay in the shadow of Apache Leap, that blue wall that loomed to the +east, and he hardly stopped to shake hands with the Warden in his haste +to get out on the road. There he stopped the first automobile that was +going up the canyon and demanded a ride as his right, and so earnest was +his manner that the driver took him in and even speeded up his machine. +But at the fork of the ways, where the new road turned off to Murray, +Denver thanked him and got off to walk. The sun was low but he did not +hurry--he had begun to doubt his welcome. A hot shame swept over him at +his convict's shirt, his worn shoes and battered hat; and he wondered +suddenly if it was not all a mistake, if he had not thrown his mine +away. She was an opera singer now, returning from a season which must +have given her a taste of success--what use would she have for him? + +Up the wash to the west, where the automobile road went, a big camp had +sprung up in his absence; but when he topped the hill and gazed down on +Pinal nothing had changed, it was just the same. The street was broad +and empty, the houses still in ruins, his cave still there across the +creek; and from the chimney of Bunker's house a column of smoke mounted +up to show that supper was being cooked. Yes, it was the same old town +that he had entered the year before when Old Bunk had taken him for a +hobo; but now he was hobo and ex-convict both, though the pardon had +restored him to citizenship. His broad shoulders drooped, he turned back +and crossed the creek and slunk like a thief to his cave. + +The door was chained but he wrenched it open and slipped in out of +sight. Bunker Hill had closed up the cave and covered all his things, +and his bed was spread with clean, white sheets; the floor was swept and +the dishes washed, and he knew whose hands had done it. It was Mrs. +Hill's, that kindest of all women; who had even invited him to their +home. Denver started a fire and cooked a hasty supper from the canned +goods that were left in his boxes and then he looked down on the town. +The sun had set now and a single bright star glowed solemnly in the +west, but the valley was silent except for the frogs that made the air +palpitate with their chorus. Old Bunk came out and went over to the +store; someone struck a chord in the house, and as Denver listened +hungrily a voice rose up, clear and flute-like, yet somehow changed. + +It was her's, it was Drusilla's, and yet it was not; the year had made a +change. There was a difference in her singing; a new note of tenderness, +of yearning, of sadness, of love. Yes, he recognized it now, it had the +quality of the Cradle Song that she had listened to so enviously on his +phonograph. She had caught it, at last, that secret, subtle something +which gives Schumann-Heink her power; and which comes only from +love--and suffering. Denver rose up, startled; he had not thought of it +before, but Drusilla must have suffered, too. Not as tragically as he +but in other ways, fighting her way against the whole world. He went in +hastily and lit his lamp but even when he was dressed his courage failed +him and he bowed his head on the table. He dared not face her--now. + +The singing had ceased, the frog chorus seemed to mock him, to din his +convict's shame into his ears; but as he yielded to despair a hand fell +on his shoulders and he looked up to see Drusilla. She was more +beautiful than ever, dressed in the soft yellow gown that she had worn +when first he saw her, but her eyes were reproachful and near to tears +and she drew her hand away. + +"What is it?" she asked. "Can't you ever care for me? Must I make every +single advance? Oh, Denver, after I'd come clear home to see you--why +wouldn't you come down to the house?" + +He roused up startled, unable to comprehend her, his mind in a whirl of +emotions. + +"I was afraid you didn't want me," he said at last and she sank down on +the bench beside him. + +"Not want you?" she repeated. "Why, haven't I done everything to get you +out of prison? Didn't I go to the Professor and beg and plead with him +and sing all my German songs; didn't I go to the Governor and take him +with me, and go through everything to have you pardoned?" + +"Pardoned!" burst out Denver and then he stopped and shook his head +regretfully. "No," he said, "I wish you had, though. I traded my mine +for it--to Murray!" + +"Why, Denver!" she cried, "you did nothing of the kind. I got you that +pardon myself! And then, after all that--and after I'd played, and sung, +and waited for you--you wouldn't even come down to see me!" + +"Why, sure I would!" he protested brokenly, "I'd do anything for you, +Drusilla! But I was afraid you wouldn't want me. I've been in prison, +you know, and it makes a difference. They call me an ex-con now." + +"No, but Denver," she entreated, "surely you didn't think--why, we +_asked_ you to come and stay with us." + +"Yes, I know," he said but the sullen look had come back; he could not +forget so soon. "I know," he went on, "but it wouldn't be right--I guess +we've made a mistake. I wanted to see you, Drusilla; I gave everything I +had, just to get here before you went----" + +"Did you really?" she asked taking him gently by the hand and looking +deep into his eyes, "did you give up your mine--for me?" + +"Just to see you," answered Denver, "but after I got here----" + +"Oh, I'm so glad!" she sighed, "and you haven't lost your mine. I got to +the Governor first." + +"You did?" he cried and then he sat up and the old fire came back into +his eyes. "That's right," he laughed, "you must have beat him to it--I +thought that pardon came quick! This'll cost old Murray a million." + +"No, you haven't lost your mine," she went on, smiling curiously. "You +think a lot of it, don't you?" + +"Well, I don't know," grumbled Denver, "whether I do or not now. I +believe that mine was a Jonah. I believe I made a mistake and chose the +wrong treasure--I should have taken the gold." + +"Oh, Denver!" she beamed, "do you really think so? I've always just +hated that mine. I've always had the feeling that you thought more of it +than you did of me--or anybody." + +"Well, I did," confessed Denver, "it seemed to kind of draw me--to make +me forget everything else. And Drusilla, I'm sorry I didn't come +down--that night when you went away." + +"It was the mine," she frowned, "I believe it was accursed. It always +came between us. But you must sell it now, and not work for a while--I +want you to entertain me." + +"I'll do it!" exclaimed Denver, "I'll sell out for what I can get and +then we can be together. How did you get along on your trip?" + +"Oh, fine!" she burst out radiantly, "Oh, I had such _luck_. I was +only the understudy, and doing minor parts, when the soprano was taken +ill in the second act and I went in and scored a triumph. It was 'Love +Tales of Hoffmann' and when I sang the 'Barcarolle' they recalled me +seven times! That is they recalled us both--it's sung as a duet, you +know." + +"Um," nodded Denver and listened in glum silence as she related the +details of her premier. "And how about those tenors?" he asked at last, +"did any of 'em steal my kiss?" + +"No--or that is--well, we won't talk about that now. But of course I +have to act my parts." + +"Oh, sure, sure!" he answered rebelliously and a triumphant twinkle came +into her eyes. + +"Do you still believe in the prophecy?" she asked, "and in all that +Mother Trigedgo told you? Because if you do, I've got some news--you +won't die until you're past eighty." + +"I won't?" challenged Denver and then he stopped and waited as she +smiled back at him mischievously. + +"She's a nice old woman," went on Drusilla demurely, "but I wouldn't +take her too seriously. She told me, for instance, that I'd give up a +great career in order to marry for love. Yes, I went over to see her, +myself." + +"But what about me?" demanded Denver eagerly, "did she say I'd live till +I was eighty?" + +"Yes, she did; and she told me some other things, including the color of +your eyes. But don't you see, Denver, that you made a mistake when you +took what she said so seriously? Why, you wouldn't even speak to me or +let us be friends for fear that I'd rise up and kill you; and now it +appears that it was all a mistake and you're going to live till you're +eighty." + +"Well, all the same," responded Denver sighing and stretching his great +arms, "I'm awful glad she said it. And a man could live to be eighty and +still be killed by his friend. No, I believe that prophecy was true!" + +"Very well," she assented, "but you don't need to worry about our +friendship, and that's the principal thing. I just did it to set your +mind at rest." + +"Yes, it _was_ true," he went on rousing up from a reverie, "but I +was wrong--I should have taken the gold." + +"Is that all you think of?" she asked impatiently, "is there nothing but +silver and gold?" + +"Yes, there is," he acknowledged, "but--say, Drusilla I'm going to buy +out the Dutchman. I believe that stringer of his is rich." + +"What stringer?" she demanded looking up from her own musings and then +she nodded and sighed. "Yes, I know," she said, "you're back at your +mining--but you promised you'd think only of me. I may not be here long +and you want to be nice to me; because I almost hated you, once. Now +listen, Denver, and let _me_ interpret--don't you know you've got +everything wrong?" + +"No!" declared Denver, "it has all come out perfectly. I've lived clear +through it, already. Only I chose the wrong treasure and so I lost them +both and suffered a great disgrace. I should have taken the gold." + +"No; listen Denver," she went on patiently, "and don't always be +thinking of _things_. A golden treasure isn't necessarily of gold, +it might be even--me." + +"You?" echoed Denver and then he clutched his hands and stared about him +wildly. + +"Why, yes," she answered evenly, "haven't you noticed my hair? Other men +are not so blind--and one of them said it reminded him of fine-spun +gold. Yes, I was the golden treasure in the shadow of Apache Leap, but +all you could think of was mines. The mine was your silver treasure, and +you had to choose between us--and you always chose the mine. No matter +how I sang, or did up my hair or came around where you were at work; you +always went into that black, hateful hole, and I used to go home and +cry. But--no, listen, Denver--when you saw me come back, and you wanted +to see me, and there was no other way to do it; then you threw away your +mine and told Murray to take it--and I knew that you really loved me. +You loved me even more than your mine, and so you won us both. Do you +like your golden treasure?" + +"I was a fool!" moaned Denver but she stroked his rumpled hair and +raised his face from his hands. + +"We've both of us been foolish," she whispered, "I nearly hated you +once, and nearly gave your kiss to a tenor. But--oh Denver, I'll never +sing with those men again! I know you wouldn't like it." + +"No, I wouldn't," he admitted, "and if you'll only----" + +"There it is," she interrupted, giving him the long-treasured kiss. "I +saved it just for you." + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SILVER AND GOLD*** + + +******* This file should be named 30572-8.txt or 30572-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/0/5/7/30572 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. 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