. 

 
 Showing jCocation of the 
 City of Six. 
 
 and 
 
 Surrounding Country
 
 THE CITY OF SIX
 
 What Ranee said has been said over and over since the creation.'
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 BY 
 
 CHAUNCEY L. CANFIELD 
 
 Author of "The Diary of a Forty-niner," etc. 
 
 With Five Illustrations by 
 JOHN W. NORTON 
 
 CHICAGO 
 
 A. C. McCLURG & CO. 
 1910
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 A. C. MCCLURG & Co. 
 
 1910 
 
 Published March 19, 1910 
 Entered at Stationer*' Hall, London, England 
 
 R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
 CHICAGO
 
 PUBLISHER'S NOTE 
 
 THE author of "The City of Six" passed away in San 
 Francisco, November 20, 1909, a few days before 
 the first proofs of his story reached him. Mr. Canfield 
 was born in Litchfield, Conn., January 7, 1843. While 
 yet a school boy he went to California to join his father, 
 who was one of the early Argonauts, and with him 
 worked claims and mines in Mariposa County. In the 
 early '80's he was engaged in the newspaper business 
 in Nevada. In the summer of 1884 he came to Chicago 
 and secured a position with The Chicago Times," on 
 which journal he performed the duties of railroad editor 
 and art critic. In 1891 he went to San Francisco and 
 was appointed general agent for the Pacific coast for 
 one of the largest railway systems in the West, and this 
 position he held at the time of his death. His boyhood 
 association with the hills and valleys of California, 
 together with his literary instincts, peculiarly fitted him 
 for writing on pioneer and mining life, and a great 
 many short stories have come from his pen, besides the 
 well-known book, The Diary of a Forty-niner." 
 The City of Six" is his most ambitious story, and one 
 that he had been working on for several years.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I "THE CITY OF Six" . < . ...... . . 9 
 
 II RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 19 
 
 III THE CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP . . . . 30 
 
 IV WINTEB AND ITS ENJOYMENTS . ; . . . 41 
 V STUDY AND WORK . . . . ; . . . . 49 
 
 VI THE GIANT NUGGET . . . . . -.; ... 58 
 
 VII THE LYNCHING ........... 69 
 
 VIII THE CITY OF Six GROWS ...... 75 
 
 IX RUTH PROVES A TREASURE TO THE CAMP . . 90 
 
 X RANGE MAKES SOME NEW FRIENDS ... 98 
 
 XI MIKE is A MODEL MINE-MANAGER . . . 109 
 
 XII RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND VISITS THE CAMP. 116 
 
 XIII WAKEFIELD AND HIS FAMILY ARRIVE . . . 129 
 
 XIV MRS. WAKEFIELD AND DOT ENJOY CAMP LIFE 148 
 
 XV RANGE ESCAPES FROM ROBBERS AND FALLS 
 
 IN LOVE . . 159 
 
 XVI BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD BECOME FRIENDLY 174 
 
 XVII A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 189 
 
 XVIII WAKEFIELD is HIMSELF AGAIN 202 
 
 XIX HALF-FORMED PLANS 214 
 
 XX A GAMBLER IN LOVE 226 
 
 XXI SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 249
 
 CONTENTS Continued 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXII THE RACES 265 
 
 XXIII MRS. WAKEFIELD'S ELOPEMENT 279 
 
 XXTV FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 289 
 
 XXV WAKEFIELD'S PURPOSE OF REVENGE . . . 303 
 
 XXVI Dor's MARRIAGE AND OTHER MATTERS . . 309 
 
 XXVII WAKEFIELD'S PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE . 320 
 
 XXVIII WAKEFIELD EXTERMINATES THE GANG . . . 330 
 
 XXIX REUNION OF MR. AND MRS. WAKEFIELD . . 342 
 
 XXX HALCYON DATS 353
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 What Ranee said has been said over and over since 
 the creation." ... .... Frontispiece 
 
 "He drew them up in a row, facing the sack, and 
 
 whisked the covering away." . . . . . 60 
 
 "When a turnout was made to pass the big freight 
 
 wagons with their string of mules. " . - . . 144 
 
 ' ' As Ranee rose and toasted the wedded pair. " . 196 
 
 "Drawing a revolver, he sped a bullet after the retreat- 
 ing trio." . , i 332
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 "THE CITY OF six" 
 
 "VTOW, there was a name to conjure with. It 
 seemed to imply a story, or at least that its 
 sponsors in departing from the commonplace 
 were distinctive in their ideas. To be sure, the 
 region round about teemed with odd and unique 
 nomenclature. Hepsidam was just across the 
 ridge, bordering on Hell's Half Acre, with 
 Whiskey Diggings in close proximity. Jericho 
 Flat lay between Jerusalem and Gomorrah, with 
 Mount Zion looming up in the background, while 
 Brandy City and Port Wine were flourishing 
 camps in the immediate neighborhood. Fancy 
 ran riot in the early fifties, with a tendency 
 toward the vulgar and profane; but "The City of 
 Six " was distinctive. Perhaps when one learned 
 that Hog Ravine was on the other side of the 
 slope, and that the city was built on a high pla- 
 
 [9]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 teau at the head of Slug Canyon, there appeared 
 in this name a certain incongruity, a refinement 
 not altogether in harmony with the practical 
 ideas of its neighbors. Over at Hepsidam the 
 dwellers referred to it as "the camp of half a 
 dozen jackasses," which they quickly abbreviated 
 to " Jackassville " ; and it must be confessed that 
 the place was better known by that name than by 
 the one given it by its founders. 
 
 The beauty of its site could not be vulgarized 
 even by the irreverent. A bench of a dozen acres 
 of level ground overhung the head of the canyon, 
 on the edge of which one could stand and cast 
 a stone into Downieville on the river bank two 
 thousand feet below. And straight across on the 
 other side the curling smoke from the cabin chim- 
 neys of the town of Monte Cristo was visible. 
 The formidable Sierra Buttes crowned with eter- 
 nal snow the culminating heights of the range 
 loomed up grandly to the view. The ridge in 
 the background climbed to an added altitude of 
 seven hundred feet, clothed with giant pines, im- 
 pressive in the majesty of their growth and telling 
 of the ages that had passed during which the soli- 
 tude had been unvexed by the presence of man. 
 But that was of the past. The lure of gold had 
 
 [10]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 brought an invasion, and in the deep gorges, in 
 the profound canyons, and on the hills and 
 mountain-sides, an army of toiling humanity, like 
 busy ants and as insignificant, was unceasingly 
 active in scarring nature with work and waste. 
 
 To this spot a half-dozen pioneers had found 
 their way. They had drifted together down on 
 the North Fork and had mined and prospected 
 up the stream, pausing to test a bar, a ravine, or 
 a promising gulch, until in 1852 they had scaled 
 the steep trail to the head of Slug Canyon, where 
 "ounce diggings" had served to stay their wan- 
 derings and settle them permanently. In those 
 nomadic days shallow placers were soon worked 
 out, and gulches and ravines quickly exhausted. 
 The deep diggings of the buried channels came 
 later and served to build up permanent and flour- 
 ishing mining-towns, which took the place of the 
 former clusters of log cabins, the rude and tem- 
 porary habitations of the early pioneers. 
 
 These half-dozen gold seekers had found fair 
 reward for their labor on the head of the eupho- 
 nious Slug Canyon, and had also discovered that 
 where it lost itself in the plateau the rich streak 
 kept on, and that the gravel followed the now 
 level bedrock into the mountain. This was a new 
 
 [11]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 problem and one not easily solved, although it 
 was not long until it was demonstrated that 
 ancient rivers, blotted out for ages, had coursed 
 through old channels hundreds of feet above the 
 bed of the present flowing streams, and that the 
 yellow gold was sifted through them in quantities 
 that yielded fabulous returns to their exploiters. 
 It was one of those old river-beds that they had 
 stumbled on, that had enriched the canyon with 
 a portion of its wealth where it had been eroded 
 out by the North Fork ; and the canyon was now 
 a treasure-house at whose door they were knock- 
 ing. Virgin gold, coarse gold in profusion in the 
 gravel, and theirs for the gathering! The chill 
 winds of autumn betokened the approach of a 
 Sierra winter, a season which at their altitude of 
 four thousand feet meant a blanket of snow over 
 mountain and hollow, an icy breath freezing the 
 tumbling waters of the canyon, and hurtling 
 storms that would drive every living thing to the 
 shelter of earth burrow or a migration to the 
 more temperate lower foothills. There was grave 
 consultation among the Six. Should they tem- 
 porarily abandon their find and seek the comfort 
 of winter quarters that Downieville offered? 
 There were many tempting distractions in that 
 
 [12]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 town: hotels where square meals were procur- 
 able, fandango houses in which Mexican girls for 
 the price of a drink invited brief companionship 
 in the dance, gorgeous gambling-houses within 
 whose hospitable doors one could flirt with fickle 
 Fortune, and a church with a high-priced preacher 
 and a sparse congregation. Ranee Poole voted 
 for Downieville and its allurements. Ranee was 
 the youngest member of the aggregation, a Mis- 
 sissippian, who for love of adventure had left his 
 old plantation home at the inception of the gold 
 fever, and bringing with him two likely young 
 darkies from whose labor he reckoned on gather- 
 ing a golden harvest, had reached the goal just 
 before California entered the Union as a free 
 State. Naturally the bondsmen repudiated the 
 bond, and Ranee was confronted with the dire 
 necessity of providing his own living. It was 
 either gamble or work, and his predilection was 
 for the first named; but the Goddess of Chance 
 was shy and fickle, the association of rough pro- 
 fessionals and rude desperadoes not exactly to 
 his taste. After a brief career as a sport he 
 turned to mining, in which pursuit he had had 
 fair success. In brawn and sinew he was not the 
 equal of his companions. He could not lift as 
 
 [13]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 heavy a boulder, nor was the stroke of his pick 
 or the steady rock of the cradle as effectual ; yet 
 he stuck to it with quiet energy and, as Mike 
 Donovan, the rollicking Irishman of the party, 
 put it, " did his best, and who the divil could do 
 more?" After a time he assumed the functions 
 of cook, and here he really excelled, that is, 
 after a brief apprenticeship, during which he 
 learned not to salt his beans before they were 
 well boiled, or to make too liberal a use of saler- 
 atus in the dough. His skill with the rifle kept 
 the camp supplied with fresh venison, varied with 
 an occasional bear rib, while squirrel stews were 
 quite common in the camp menu. There were 
 times when the absurd inappropriateness of 
 his occupation disturbed Ranee's meditations. 
 Busied with his pots and pans or carefully regu- 
 lating the heat of the oak coals around the Dutch 
 oven, his costume a woollen shirt and duck over- 
 alls, he could not help contrasting the crudities of 
 the present with the refinements of his former 
 existence, when clothed in immaculate linen he 
 lolled on the broad veranda of the plantation 
 home, servants at his beck and call, eager to save 
 the young master from every exertion. In these 
 self-communings he often asked himself why he 
 
 [14]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 had given up the life of luxurious ease to become 
 one of the "mudsills " whom he had been reared 
 to despise. Surely the "governor" would have 
 considered his part in the camp duties an impossi- 
 ble degradation, and a horrified mother and sisters 
 would have been utterly incredulous that he could 
 stoop to such menial labor. Not only provided 
 with a liberal education, he had had instilled into 
 every fibre of his being the belief in the superior- 
 ity of the men of the chivalrous South, and had 
 been reared in the expectation of either taking 
 his place at the bar, adopting a political career, 
 or entering into a matrimonial alliance that 
 would link him to some other prominent family 
 and annex broad acres and human chattels as a 
 compensation for the relinquishment of his care- 
 less young bachelorhood. But it came about that 
 legal studies failed to interest him ; there were not 
 enough offices to go around among eager aspir- 
 ants of the same ilk> and eligible heiresses did not 
 grow on every bush. Although the fertile pater- 
 nal lands under the supervision of a driving over- 
 seer brought in a handsome revenue, it did not 
 suffice for the extravagances of the possessors. 
 The cotton bales were mortgaged before they 
 reached the market, the increase in slaves found 
 
 [15]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 its way to other plantations, and as time rolled on 
 the incumbrances on the old acres grew rather 
 than diminished. 
 
 To the youngest scion of a prolific house, with 
 sisters to be portioned and elder brothers to be 
 provided for, it was not an alluring prospect ; and 
 this rather pessimistic view had been the chief 
 incentive to a leap in the dark. There came the 
 rumors of a new El Dorado, where the rivers 
 rolled over Pactolian sands and riches were to be 
 had for the gathering. The spirit of adventure 
 woke in his plastic mind, and taking his two body 
 servants, who protested their fidelity and devo- 
 tion to Marse Ranee, he made the weary journey 
 and encountered a rude awakening at its finish; 
 for the novelty of freedom sponged away the 
 loyalty born of servitude, and Ranee was thrown 
 on his own resources. 
 
 This review of past and present conditions, 
 however, did not depress him ; his spirits were too 
 buoyant, he was too healthy a young animal to 
 allow care to sit heavily on his shoulders, and 
 there were compensations. His share in the re- 
 sults of the mining operations was fairly good; 
 the summer had brought him a couple of thou- 
 sand dollars, his companions were congenial and 
 
 [16]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 considerate, his task as cook and purveyor was 
 not humiliating. In the thousands who toiled 
 among the surrounding hills and gorges there 
 were many his superiors in intellectual attain- 
 ments and his peers in gentle breeding ; and in the 
 intervals between the meals, when the pot could 
 be left unwatched, he tramped the mountains 
 roundabout, ostensibly hunting fresh meat, but 
 insensibly a young pagan rejoicing in vigorous 
 manhood and conscious health. The Red Gods 
 called him among the pines and on the steep 
 mountain-sides, and he followed their invitation 
 until the lengthening shadows warned him that a 
 hungry crew would soon appear over the edge of 
 the plateau, clamoring for the evening meal. 
 Then he came back to earth again and gave 
 his mind to the preparation of some savory dish, 
 an unexpected dozen of mountain quail wrapped 
 in bay leaves and a slice of bacon and roasted 
 over the glowing coals; a succulent camp stew 
 where gray squirrel, salt pork, and potatoes ap- 
 peased glorious appetites ; or venison steaks fresh 
 cut from the carcass of a doe, hanging on 
 the branch of an oak tree close by, making bull 
 beef a despised article. 
 
 Fortunately Ranee was spared the indignity 
 
 [17]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 of dish-washing. It was a rule that each individ- 
 ual took care of his own particular tin cup and 
 plate, and in order that no confusion should arise, 
 on each dish was scratched the initial of its owner. 
 At least once a week they were scoured with wood 
 ashes to bring the distinguishing marks out of 
 greasy obscurity. 
 
 In that bracing mountain air and daily exer- 
 cise of muscle-hardening toil, "digestion waited 
 on appetite, " and Ranee's culinary skill received 
 the heartiest approbation of his partners. Dur- 
 ing a week's holiday trip to Marysville, Mike 
 Donovan had been installed as a substitute, but 
 the resultant concoctions were so atrocious and 
 unpalatable, that Ranee's return was signalized 
 by an enthusiastic ovation and the Irishman rele- 
 gated to the canyon and the rocker. " Sure, they 
 have all been living too high while ye were gone, 
 and what they want is common grub. What I've 
 been giving them was uncommon," was Mike's 
 comment on the eagerness betrayed by his com- 
 panions for his abdication. 
 
 [18]
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 shallow gravel deposits in the bed of the 
 canyon had been worked out, and in follow- 
 ing the rich streak into the mountain they were 
 confronted with what was to them a new phase 
 of mining. The bank rose up abruptly to the 
 top of the bench, a height of one hundred feet 
 or more, while the bedrock continued on into the 
 hill almost at a level. It was evident that there 
 was but one method by which it could be mined, 
 that of drifting or tunnelling along the course. 
 This meant a change from the simple methods 
 of rocking and panning which had heretofore 
 served. Doubtless their ingenuity would have 
 been equal to meeting the new conditions had 
 they been called on to exercise it, but fortunately 
 they were not the first to encounter these old 
 channels. Across the ridge the pioneers had 
 stumbled on these "upper leads," as they termed 
 them, and at Forest City, on the banks of Kan- 
 aka Creek, at Chipp's Flat, and at Minnesota, 
 the Summer of '52 had signalized the develop- 
 
 [19]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ment of the ancient river-bed, and a busy multi- 
 tude of toilers was exploiting the deep diggings 
 for miles along the old channel from the North 
 to and across the Middle Fork of the Rio Las 
 Uvas corrupted into the " Yuba River." 
 
 Given an aggregation of men in any common 
 pursuit, some one in particular, either by asser- 
 tion, fitness, or ability, assumes the leadership; 
 one who, after the pros and cons of any question 
 are discussed, gives the final and deciding word. 
 Our little company of half a dozen had not been 
 exempt from this tendency, and had tacitly rec- 
 ognized one of their number as fit to direct. The 
 choice was not unwise, and the results had justi- 
 fied the selection. He was the dean of his com- 
 rades by virtue of years, and their superior in 
 a certain practical knowledge and hard sense. 
 He had a tactful way of guiding and manag- 
 ing their affairs that avoided the irritation of 
 command and substituted the softer method of 
 persuasion. 
 
 Wakefield, upon whom this duty fell, was a 
 fine specimen of the typical American, a well 
 nourished, farm-bred giant, over six feet in 
 height, of big bone and hard muscle, trained by 
 outdoor labor to the condition of an athlete, a 
 
 [20]
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 blue-eyed, fair-haired Saxon, temperate in habit 
 and cleanly in thought. On the mental side he 
 was neither brilliant nor intellectual, and there 
 was none of the poet or philosopher in his make- 
 up; or rather, any latent gifts in that direction 
 were in a state of non-development. The daily 
 clean-up interested him to a greater degree than 
 any other phase of his life ; and the incense of the 
 bean-pot appealed to him more pungently than 
 the balsamic breath of the pines. Born at, and 
 arriving at manhood on, the border of a thriving 
 village in the interior of New York State, he had 
 married and settled down to the hard work of 
 a small farm, until the breaking out of the gold 
 fever and the marvellous tales of the riches of 
 this almost unknown Golconda had stirred his 
 sluggish pulse and incited him to adventure. 
 Leaving his wife and a little girl of fourteen 
 his only child established in comparative com- 
 fort (he had sold the farm and bought a small 
 cottage within the village limits, where with a 
 dependent aunt they were comfortably installed) , 
 he was one of the first to journey westward, 
 arriving in '49 and at once seeking the mines. 
 
 In the lapsing three years he had drifted from 
 one locality to another, as the twenty-four-foot 
 
 [21]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 claims were worked out; panning, rocking, tom- 
 ming, on bar and ravine, in gulch and canyon, 
 always mining with substantial if not phenom- 
 enal success, and as a result seven thousand 
 dollars was to his credit in the home bank, the 
 surplus above the expenditures for his own and 
 his family's support. Like all pioneers he was 
 "going back" shortly to enjoy the fruits of his 
 industry, an intention strengthened and con- 
 firmed by the loving, pleading letters that came 
 as regularly as "steamer day" rolled around. 
 He certainly would have departed the present 
 autumn had it not been that the unexpected de- 
 velopment of the deep diggings gave him pause. 
 Here was a promise of substantial wealth far 
 beyond his ambitions. They had pierced the 
 mountain only twenty feet, and the yield of 
 Slug Canyon had faded into insignificance. The 
 bottom layer of gravel was rich; along the bed- 
 rock and in its crevices and irregularities nug- 
 gets were embedded and scattered, coarse gold 
 that turned the scale to the half-ounce, ounce, 
 five ounces, and on the last day's work they had 
 done, Mike's pick had unearthed a beauty as big 
 as his fist which was not a small one, a white 
 rock seamed with gold, which when broken up
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 yielded six hundred dollars. Then came a catas- 
 trophe, for the next morning they found the 
 gravel, to whose solidity they had trusted, had 
 given way and the ground caved to the end of 
 the excavation. Blessing their stars that they 
 had not been caught in its treacherous fall, they 
 brought operations to a full stop, and consulta- 
 tion and projecting was in order. It was 
 recalled that passing wayfarers had brought 
 rumors and news of like discoveries over the 
 ridge, and it was decided that Wakefield should 
 make a journey of observation and see how the 
 boys on Kanaka Creek met the problem. 
 
 It was only a few hours' tramp, and a couple 
 of days' stay with the hospitable workers at 
 Minnesota and Alleghany initiated him into the 
 method and science of timbering, capping, lag- 
 ging, and breasting as developed up to that 
 time, and also demonstrated that the inclemency 
 of a Sierra winter would not prevent work being 
 prosecuted during that season provided neces- 
 sary and adequate preparations were made. On 
 his return the knowledge gained was duly im- 
 parted to his comrades and discussed in all its 
 bearings, and a final conclusion was reached. To 
 stay meant practically a six months' isolation 
 
 [23]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 from the world, a close and enforced companion- 
 ship, with no relaxation afforded by change of 
 scene or distraction to relieve the solitude. They 
 had toiled through the summer with fair results 
 a dividend of over two thousand dollars each 
 having been declared, and all of the party had 
 anticipated a change. Besides those already 
 mentioned, there were two brothers from Ohio, 
 healthy, honest plodders with no particular qual- 
 ities to distinguish them from the ordinary, ex- 
 cept an unfailing good humor and a ready 
 acquiescence in Wakefield's plans; and a Texan, 
 who had fought in the war for Texan indepen- 
 dence and campaigned with Doniphan on the 
 border and through the Mexican War. 
 
 He was big, slow-witted, and unlettered, swore 
 by Colonel Bowie, despised a "Greaser," and yet, 
 having been the hero of, or actor in, many mov- 
 ing adventures by flood and field, he was able to 
 beguile weary hours in recounting his participa- 
 tion in exploits, hairbreadth escapes, bloody en- 
 counters, and romantic escapades on both sides 
 of the Rio Grande. Wakefield, as intimated, 
 had resolved on a trip to his old home ; and Ranee 
 Poole, wearied of his culinary duties, had decided 
 on a visit to San Francisco and looked forward 
 
 [24]
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 to a resumption of broadcloth and fine linen with 
 an anticipatory satisfaction that went far toward 
 reconciling him to his labors among the pots and 
 kettles. 
 
 However, even he was dazzled by the prospect 
 of wealth that the new discovery promised, and 
 agreed that after a two weeks' holiday at Marys- 
 ville he would come back and resume his duties. 
 Mike Donovan stipulated for a week off at 
 Downieville, which meant a glorious spree, 
 "Sure, he hadn't drank a drop for a six-month." 
 Filling up his buckskin purse with gold dust to 
 the top, he struck off down the trail to the town 
 on the river, where many seductive whiskey mills 
 stood with open doors to welcome him and his 
 like. Ranee also took his departure for the val- 
 ley metropolis, and the four were left to prepare 
 for the winter's campaign. 
 
 There was an abundance of preliminary work 
 confronting them. First, the temporary shelters 
 that had answered well enough during the sum- 
 mer were entirely inadequate, and substantial, 
 warm structures were a necessity; secondly, a 
 supply of poles and logs for timbering the drifts 
 and bracing up the tunnels, and a big lot of fire- 
 wood must be provided ; thirdly, and not of least 
 
 [25]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 importance, a six months' store of provisions must 
 be laid in, including simple remedies for possible 
 sickness or accidents, not forgetting a little 
 whiskey (they had been singularly abstemious 
 during their association), and plenty of tobacco. 
 The weed was essential, and they were all its 
 devotees. Labor was suspended many times dur- 
 ing the working days for a brief puff from the 
 old black pipes, the length of the siesta after the 
 noon meal was measured by the consumption of 
 the well-filled bowls, and after supper, stretched 
 under the spreading oaks, the fragrant smoke 
 acted as a sedative to tired bodies and soothed 
 the unstrung nerves. 
 
 The October air had grown suddenly chill; 
 the soft south wind that had tempered the sum- 
 mer's heat had a sharp, stimulating tang that 
 conveyed a sense of impending change; in the 
 morning a white frost blanched the yellow, brittle 
 grass, and a flurry of snow whitened the land- 
 scape and left patches on the mountain-sides 
 where the sun's rays failed to reach. The length- 
 ening shadows of the shortening day, and the 
 falling leaves that circled and sailed in the breeze 
 and lodged and huddled in the hollows, were re- 
 
 [26]
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 minders of the wane of the year and impelled the 
 four to strenuous and extra exertion. 
 
 It was planned to build double cabins, con- 
 necting with each other by roof and an enclosure 
 some twenty feet in length, in which could be 
 stored dry wood and a goodly supply of pitch- 
 pine knots, mining tools, a crude bellows and 
 forge, and other articles that would be dam- 
 aged by partial exposure. When completed, the 
 structure was fifty feet in length, sixteen in 
 width, and twelve in height to the eaves. 
 
 For better protection against the cold, a 
 double roof was built over the cabins proper. 
 The pine logs out of which the building was con- 
 structed were squared and mortised at the joints; 
 a stiff adobe mixed with pine needles to hold it 
 together a crude substitute for mortar 
 chinked the interstices and was plastered around 
 and over the boulders that built up the chimneys. 
 
 They were quite proud of their job when it 
 was completed, and it certainly was an advance 
 on the usual log-cabin architecture. In the mean- 
 time they had been reinforced by Donovan, much 
 against his will; for at the end of ten days he 
 had toiled uj> the steep trail, not to resume work, 
 
 [27]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 but to replenish his depleted buckskin purse, in 
 order to renew and prolong the distracting de- 
 lights of town. He had had the time of his life, 
 as was testified by his bleared and blackened eyes 
 and sundry cuts and bruises resulting from ex- 
 citing arguments and differences of opinion with 
 acquaintances who were enjoying like relaxa- 
 tions. Wakefield's remonstrances against a re- 
 newal of the debauch and representations of the 
 urgent need of his help prevailed. A few days' 
 rest and abstinence restored his vigor, and he 
 was soon in his old form and a welcome and 
 valuable recruit. Orders for a liberal supply of 
 grub were placed at the Downieville store and a 
 packtrain of jackasses climbed its way up the 
 steep trail laden with goods and provisions. 
 These included a half -ton of flour and several 
 sacks of buckwheat and corn meal for variety, 
 fat sides of bacon and a barrel of pork, a hun- 
 dredweight of Chilli beans and a couple of bags 
 of rice, boxes of yeast powders, canned oysters, 
 and dried apples, sardines for a Sunday luxury, 
 and coffee and tea ad lib. Paregoric and essence 
 of ginger, quinine and pills, court plaster, and 
 five gallons of whiskey stocked the medicine 
 chest ; and warm woollen shirts and canvas trous- 
 
 [28]
 
 RICH DEPOSITS OF GOLD 
 
 ers, top and gum boots, suggested warmth and 
 bodily comfort. When these were packed away 
 in their proper places, the flour and cereals care- 
 fully guarded against the poaching proclivities of 
 the pestilent wood rat, they felt as if they were 
 comfortably provisioned and could endure the 
 longest and severest of winters. This finished, 
 trees of suitable dimensions were felled and rolled 
 to the edge of the bank, the caved dirt cleared 
 away, the cut widened and the sides buttressed 
 with heavy timbers, making a covered approach 
 that would keep out the snow and a roomy place 
 to frame and saw the sets for holding up the 
 tunnel. 
 
 [29]
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 rilHIS preliminary toil had consumed a 
 month's time, but it was well done, and while 
 they faced almost complete isolation it would be 
 solitude minus hardship and exposure. Nor 
 was there a sense of complete detachment from 
 the world. The waters of the North Fork in a 
 deep canyon murmured over the rocky bed seem- 
 ingly almost at their feet, although it was a sheer 
 descent of two thousand feet to its level, and the 
 roofs of the clustered buildings of the important 
 mining hamlet of Downieville could be glimpsed 
 through the spaces between the giant pines that 
 grew on the precipitous mountain-sides. Far 
 up on the north bank of the canyon and on a 
 level with their own dwelling-place nestled 
 Monte Cristo, aptly named, for the yield of the 
 channel was the reality of a miser's dream. The 
 crest of the Sierra Buttes pierced the blue at a 
 height of nearly nine thousand feet, not more 
 than twenty miles to the east; while the peaks 
 of Saddle Back and Fir Top loomed heaven- 
 
 [30]
 
 CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 ward to the north. From their own camp it was 
 an ascent of four thousand feet to the summit 
 of Table Mountain; and Baldy, a thousand feet 
 higher and crowned with a perpetual snow-field, 
 blocked the vision beyond. It was a wilderness 
 of towering peaks and profound canyon depths, 
 of howling blasts, blinding storms, and a tor- 
 rential rush of mad waters ; and yet there was the 
 knowledge that the town on the Fork was not 
 inaccessible in an emergency, and that over the 
 ridge there were neighbors who could be reached 
 when the snow packed hard enough to bear a 
 man's weight. In fact, it had been planned that 
 at least once a week one member of the party 
 should visit Downieville and bring back the mail. 
 The letters from home were prized too much to 
 permit the thought of being deprived of the 
 precious messages for months, and periodicals 
 were also a necessity. With the aid of snowshoes 
 it was believed that the trip could be made with- 
 out much difficulty, a belief that was justified 
 by later experience. 
 
 The storms, barring an occasional flurry, had 
 held off until the party had attacked their min- 
 ing problem in earnest and the five were busy 
 driving the tunnel. But where was Ranee? A 
 
 [31]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 month had elapsed and nothing had been heard 
 of him or his whereabouts, and they began to 
 be somewhat sceptical as to his return. "Faith! 
 he wasn't born to be a cook," said Mike, "and 
 he's tired of the job, although he was a janius." 
 Their own efforts had not been entirely satis- 
 factory, and they missed Ranee's deft skill in the 
 concoction of palatable and savory messes, as 
 well as his light-hearted, boyish comradeship. Still 
 he had been, so to speak, born to the purple. 
 The dullest among them caught a glimmering 
 of the incongruity of the occupation that had 
 been thrust upon him and entertained a belief 
 that the disgrace of it had been so borne in that 
 he was willing to sacrifice his share in the rich 
 prize rather than resume the menial duties. 
 
 They were mistaken, for one afternoon Ranee 
 came toiling up the trail and was received with 
 a welcome that demonstrated the affection in 
 which he was held. But what a change there was 
 from the old Ranee this thin, worn, pallid 
 spectre that appeared on the scene! Had he 
 grazed some almost mortal illness or met with 
 an accident that had sapped his strength and 
 vigor? 
 
 "Oh, I 'm all right, boys," he exclaimed, not- 
 
 [32]
 
 CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 ing their sympathetic and wondering survey, "or 
 I will be shortly; but old Charon had his boat 
 ready, and I came pretty near crossing to the 
 other side while I was gone. You see, I got into 
 an argument at Sacramento with a damned 
 hound, he won't argue any more with anybody 
 this side of hell, and in the heat of it he put a 
 bullet through my lung. That 's three weeks ago, 
 and I had little hope of seeing Slug Canyon 
 again; but it's pretty nearly healed up now, 
 although it took about all the strength I had left 
 to make the top of the trail." 
 
 He was panting for breath as kind hands 
 assisted him to the cabin, and a rest revived him 
 sufficiently to enable him to get outside and view 
 the improvements. 
 
 "My, boys, you have done a pile of work since 
 I went away, haven't you?" he said. "This is 
 almost as comfortable as some of the nigger 
 quarters on the plantation, and you need not 
 take any offence at the comparison, for we took 
 pretty good care of them. How is the claim? 
 Who's been doing the cooking? Has Tex been 
 showing you how they messed on the border?" 
 
 He rattled on, and they explained that the one 
 fly in the honey was the conduct of the culinary 
 
 [33]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 department; and while of course he was not 
 strong enough to tackle it just yet, they hoped 
 with his advice and supervision to improve it at 
 least. 
 
 "Oh, pshaw! I will be all right in a week; the 
 doctor said that the mountain air would do me 
 more good than medicine, and I feel better 
 already. But say, what do you call the camp? 
 This is altogether too pretty for ' Slugtown.' ' 
 
 It was explained that more important matters 
 had claimed the attention of the party. "Slug 
 Camp" it had been all the way up the canyon; 
 to "Slugtown" the Downieville traders directed 
 their supplies; and really, while that was vulgar, 
 prosaic, and not at all felicitous, still " Slug Dig- 
 gings" was as appropriate and possibly more 
 forcible and direct than many of the coarse and 
 uncouth names borne by neighboring settlements. 
 
 To this Ranee demurred. 
 
 "Our nest is altogether too grand to be de- 
 graded by that sort of thing. Let 's hold a coun- 
 cil after supper and think up something more in 
 harmony." 
 
 And they did, gathered around the big fire- 
 place. The nights were stinging cold; a huge 
 backlog glowed in its ample depths, banked by 
 
 [34]
 
 CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 resinous pine knots and oak limbs; the cheery 
 flames leaped up the chimney, crackling sparks 
 coruscating and exploding in miniature fire- 
 works ; the bright light was reflected on the faces 
 of the group, illumining the features of the 
 solemn conclave in playing lights and shadows, 
 while they wrestled with the problem gravely and 
 seriously, as if the selection would have an occult 
 influence on the future luck of the place. 
 
 Mike broke the silent meditations with a sug- 
 gestion that smacked of his native city "Dub- 
 lin Flat." 
 
 This met with unanimous objection. "You're 
 a long way from the 'ould sod'; forget you're 
 Irish," said Ranee. One of the Ohioans offered 
 "Grizzly Hill"; but there were already innumer- 
 able hills, flats, and ravines dotting the foothills 
 from Mariposa to Siskiyou that had appropri- 
 ated Bruin's cognomen. The younger brother 
 feebly advanced "Buckeye Camp," but that pos- 
 sessed about the same claim to originality. Tex 
 could think of nothing better than "Alamo"; 
 but that ill-starred battle ground was a misfit, 
 although Ranee said that it was a fight for inde- 
 pendence, a far-fetched analogy. " If I should 
 consult my feelings," he added, "when I reached 
 
 [35]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the end of the steep trail this afternoon and lay 
 down under the old pine by the cabin, I should 
 say ' Heavenly Rest.' ' This was debated at con- 
 siderable length but was ultimately rejected as 
 too sentimental. 
 
 "There won't be much rest here this winter, 
 anyway," remarked Ranee, "and those fellows 
 over at Hepsidam and Jericho would turn it into 
 'Hell's Hollow,' or worse. See what they did 
 to ' Grassmead ' on the other side of the mountain. 
 'Ain't that a pretty name -for a pile of tailings 
 and a worked-out camp?' said an irreverent joker 
 from Chipp's Diggings to his companion as they 
 were passing by on the trail that bordered what 
 had been one of those numerous little grass- 
 grown meadows in the swale of the mountains, 
 but which had been upturned and overturned 
 until bare bedrock and piles of boulders were all 
 that remained. "Grassmead!"' he reiterated 
 with a snort of disgust, '"Hell's Half Acre" 
 would fit it better!' The name stuck, and so it 
 was known from that time on. Come, Wake- 
 field, it 's your ante." 
 
 The dean smiled, and to continue the simile, 
 came into the game, and words of wisdom fell 
 from his lips. 
 
 [36]
 
 CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 "Well, boys, there are a half-dozen of us, 
 why not 'The City of Six' ?" There was no dis- 
 senting voice; it was euphonious, dignified, and 
 out of the common. There was poured into each 
 tin cup a dram from the demijohn, and with 
 libations to the wood gods, the camp was so 
 christened; so it remained through all the vary- 
 ing fortunes of its existence; and to this day, 
 when it is but a scarred and ugly blot on the land- 
 scape, it is known and referred to as "The City 
 of Six." 
 
 "That is off our minds, anyway," soliloquized 
 Ranee; "but after all it is pagan land, and we 
 are pagans. Some of these mornings you will 
 see Pan with his pipes come dancing down the 
 glade ; and if he should bring a few nymphs with 
 him, I reckon they would get a welcome." 
 
 "It's a haythen god he is," laughed Mike; 
 "and if it's like the pictures I've been seeing of 
 them, and that poor for clothing they show, if 
 they should waltz along now, it's a warm pair 
 of breeches Mr. Pan will feel the want of, and 
 woollen petticoats for the nymphs as you name 
 them. It 's Bacchus I 'd rather see coming over 
 the trail." 
 
 It was the middle of November, and on the 
 
 [37]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 morrow after the christening earnest work began. 
 With only a vague idea of the details of the task 
 before them and no experience in drift mining 
 outside of Wakefield's brief observations at 
 Kanaka Flat, yet not doubting that they could 
 meet and overcome any difficulty, with confidence 
 and self-reliance they attacked the face of the 
 hillside. It was an awkward and slow process, 
 and the results of each day's toil were painfully 
 small for the amount of hard labor and muscle 
 expended. Ages ago, a stream had curved 
 through the channel which they were opening, a 
 tributary to a mighty river that had been sud- 
 denly blotted out by a volcanic overflow. The 
 long-extinguished craters of the Sierra chain had 
 belched out torrents of mud and liquid lava, 
 choking up the channels, covering the hills and 
 valleys with a blanket of fine clay. The waters 
 of the running rivers dried up from the heat of 
 the fierce fires that lighted the mountain crests, 
 the molten torrent swept down from the peaks 
 and buried beneath the overflow the ancient 
 channels, and for centuries the beds remained, 
 the rounded boulders, pebbles, and sands distrib- 
 uted as when the waters rippled over them or, 
 
 [38]
 
 CHRISTENING OF THE CAMP 
 
 in torrential seasons, dashed and eddied earth 
 and rock in a mad rush of melting snow and ice. 
 In the lapse of uncounted years the old or- 
 ganic remains, the leaves, driftwood, and vegeta- 
 tion, decayed and, uniting with the iron and min- 
 erals, had cemented the gravel into a mass as 
 hard as rock. In the gradual erosion of the 
 quartz veins that seamed the granite, the gold 
 had sifted, rolled, and had been ground ino par- 
 ticles and scattered through the gravels and over 
 the bed of the dead rivers, the cataclysm of the 
 volcanic period securely locking up the portals 
 to this rich deposit until the lure of gold betrayed 
 its hiding place. It was weary and almost dis- 
 couraging toil, this breaking into the well- 
 guarded treasure chest ; for the cemented gravels 
 resisted the blow of the pick and crowbar, and 
 carrying in a tunnel, seven feet in height and of 
 equal width, was painfully slow in progress. At 
 the best a foot per day was about the limit, but 
 there were signs and indications of a handsome 
 reward. The gravel for two feet above the bed- 
 rock paid a dollar to the pan, and in the crevices 
 of underlying granite, nuggets and coarse gold 
 were packed away in stimulating profusion. 
 
 [39]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 In the parlance of the time, they had "struck it 
 rich" and smiling Fortune beckoned them on. 
 Perhaps they were approaching that ignis fatuus 
 of the pioneer, the much discussed and sought- 
 after golden stream that had enriched the shal- 
 lower places below, that puzzle of a thousand 
 theories, the "Source." 
 
 [40]
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 WINTER AND ITS ENJOYMENTS 
 
 OUDDENLY came the cold breath of winter 
 choking the springs and solidly freezing the 
 running streams. Masses of leaden, dark, omi- 
 nous clouds floated in from the south and 
 obscured the sky, a fierce wind swept over the 
 mountains, and a storm broke in all the fury of 
 howling gale and flying snow. For days the 
 white flakes sifted down or flew before the tem- 
 pest gusts, so completely filling the air that the 
 vision could penetrate but a short distance, 
 choking up the canyon and piling big banks and 
 deep drifts where the giant tree trunks barred 
 the rushing winds. The cabin was almost buried 
 out of sight, and the way to the tunnel was 
 blocked by a depth of ten feet of snow. Then 
 the storm ceased ; the clouds rolled away ; the blue 
 sky was serene above them; the sun shone, and 
 near and far a visible world stood transformed, 
 a colorless, blinding world, save and except the 
 dark foliage of the pines and their sombre trunks, 
 the only contrast to the diamond-studded, white 
 
 [41]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 mantle that blanketed mountain-peak, hillside, 
 and canyon, and spread a glittering robe, spark- 
 ling in the sunshine, as far as the eye could see. 
 It gave them all a sense of loneliness, an op- 
 pressive feeling of remoteness and isolation re- 
 lieved in part by the sight of the ascending smoke 
 wreaths, curling up from invisible chimneys and 
 vanished town on the river-bank below. There 
 was life in this white wilderness, there were com- 
 panions in the seeming solitude, and then the 
 storm did not interfere with their work. All this 
 had been foreseen and provided for, and beyond 
 cutting a path from cabin to drift and shovelling 
 away the crushing weight on the roof, there was 
 nothing to prevent a continuance of the daily 
 routine. Their only privation was in the larder; 
 fresh meat was no longer a part of their diet, 
 for with the storm disappeared every trace of 
 game except an occasional whirring grouse that 
 broke through the icy crust from its nest under 
 a pine log and sought its food among the tree- 
 tops. The pursuit of these was impracticable, 
 as the snow was too soft and deep to permit a 
 successful following. The camp settled down to 
 beans and bacon and such palatable messes as 
 Ranee who had fully recovered from his 
 
 [42]
 
 WINTER ENJOYMENTS 
 
 wound concocted. It was no hardship; their 
 appetites were unlimited, and fried oysters 
 the canned variety for Sunday morning break- 
 fast were dished up fit for a king, and rice pud- 
 dings, apple duff, and other toothsome and un- 
 expected creations testified to Ranee's skill and 
 resourceful art. 
 
 Barring one or two incidents it was a most 
 quiet winter. The cabins were weather- tight, 
 warm, and comfortable. By consent Ranee and 
 Wakefield occupied one wing, utilizing it also 
 for kitchen and dining-room; while Mike, Tex, 
 and the brothers bunked in the other. Their 
 chief amusement was an interminable series of 
 games of euchre, the score religiously kept and 
 with varying fortune. It really did not much 
 matter which side was ahead, as it was a trial of 
 skill with no stakes at issue ; but it served to pass 
 away the dull evenings before early bedtime, 
 and was about on a level with the intellectual 
 capacity of the quartette. On the other side of 
 the house the situation was somewhat different. 
 Ranee had had all the advantages that school 
 and college could give, and that comprised 
 enough to carry him through to graduation 
 creditably and with honor. This, with a smatter- 
 
 [43]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ing of a little Greek and less Latin, bestowed 
 upon him that indefinite but certain hall-mark 
 of a gentleman, so far as such standards go. 
 Truly, in knowledge and experience he was but 
 a boy, a frank, careless youngster, whose pride 
 and cleanly mind had disgusted him with the only 
 career that had seemed to open to him, that of 
 professional gambler, and paradox of choice 
 to bring no degradation in his role of cook 
 and caterer. To be sure, it was not for hire ; that 
 would have been impossible. On the contrary, 
 there was a sense of superiority. Any one could 
 swing a pick or handle a shovel, given the phy- 
 sique; but to create appetizing and unlooked-for 
 results from common material that was beyond 
 the capacity of his comrades and was a solace 
 and reward for what otherwise would have been 
 a menial and distasteful occupation. 
 
 On the other hand, Wakefield was of a differ- 
 ent mould. His mental machinery worked at a 
 slower, if perhaps surer stroke. Self-reliant, 
 self-willed, and self-contained, he arrived at con- 
 clusions slowly that when reached he held to 
 tenaciously. He was too charitable to others' 
 opinions to be charged with obstinacy, and always 
 appeared to give due weight to them; but he 
 
 [44]
 
 WINTER ENJOYMENTS 
 
 had a way of holding to his beliefs so firmly and 
 yet withal so modestly, that at the end of the 
 discussion his views were usually adopted. The 
 Little Red School-house had equipped him with 
 the elementary schooling, and nature had en- 
 dowed him with the rare gift of common sense. 
 Although greatly Ranee's senior, he had had less 
 contact with the world, a narrower range to draw 
 from. The workings of his mind were slow, but 
 facts grasped and lessons learned were retained; 
 they sank deep into his consciousness and there 
 remained, gradually filling a mental storehouse 
 to be drawn on as occasion served. Ranee's bril- 
 liancy and youthful spirits attracted him, and 
 insensibly the pair had grown fond of each other, 
 an affection tempered with respect and mutual 
 understanding. 
 
 So, on this side of the cabin the atmosphere 
 was somewhat different. Not that good com- 
 radeship did not obtain. There was the supper 
 together, and that over, the inevitable smoke, 
 when all burnt incense in the black bowls of their 
 clay pipes and filled the room with the pungent 
 odor of the Virginia weed. It was during this 
 half -hour that the happenings of the day were 
 gone over, the progress and development of the 
 
 [45]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tunnel, the prospects for an early spring, the con- 
 jectures as to the doings in neighboring camps, 
 varied with Mike's recollections of droll expe- 
 riences in which Irish wit and pugnacity fig- 
 ured, and in which it was noted he always came 
 off first best; or Tex revived memories of the 
 struggle that achieved Texan independence, in- 
 spired in the relation to an uncouth, rugged, but 
 most convincing eloquence. This over and the 
 pipes smoked out, the quartette retired, and with 
 their absence the pair took to higher conversa- 
 tional flights. 
 
 By some queer freak the reading matter ac- 
 cumulated in a haphazard way included a copy 
 of Shakespeare. It looked out of place along- 
 side the current literature circulating in the 
 mining regions at that time. Pioneers will re- 
 member the stock that the newsman added to his 
 periodical list, and the quaint odd-shaped paper- 
 covered novels issued by a Philadelphia publish- 
 ing firm which seemed to have a monopoly of 
 the California trade. The most popular was a 
 series by one G. W. M. Reynolds, under the title 
 of "The Mysteries of the Court of London," 
 eight volumes which shed a baleful and immoral 
 light on the secret history of George IV. Then 
 
 [46]
 
 WINTER ENJOYMENTS 
 
 there was "The Count of Monte Cristo." Oh, 
 great Dumas, how many weary hours of the "old 
 boys" your fascinating pages changed into even- 
 ings of delight! and when followed by "The 
 Three Musketeers" how they clamored for each 
 succeeding book, admiring D'Artagnan, loving 
 Porthos, giving fair homage to Athos, and 
 secretly disliking the unfrocked churchman, 
 Aramis. What great stories they were, and how 
 it seemed as if the romance of the reigns of Louis 
 XIII and Louis XIV were not out of harmony 
 with the early foothill days ! How few know of or 
 can realize the indebtedness that the Argonauts 
 owed to the elder Dumas! Dickens was in the 
 first flush of the success of "Pickwick Papers" 
 and " Nicholas Nickleby," and they laughed over 
 the quaint Cruickshank illustrations and the 
 humor and oddity of the text; yet despite Bret 
 Harte's tribute, Little Nell and Smike were 
 somewhat mawkish to their tastes, and Paul 
 Dombey an unnatural prodigy. Then there was 
 a weird, melodramatic tale, "The Monk," by 
 one Lewis a creepy, powerful story, that circu- 
 lated through the mining camps in hundreds of 
 copies, and Pollard's "Quaker City" of the same 
 ilk and popularity. With these there appeared 
 
 [47]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 a yellow-backed literature, "Dick Turpin and 
 Black Bess," "Sixteen String Jack," "The 
 Highwayman of Hampstead Heath," and other 
 tales of the knights of the road. Like the early 
 days, these exciting stories have faded into ob- 
 livion. That was the sort of mental food they 
 fed on, candle alongside the bunk, during those 
 lonely nights, and were none the worse for the 
 diet. 
 
 [48]
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 STUDY AND WORK 
 
 T T came to pass that the hour of relaxation 
 before early bedtime was given up to a study 
 and discussion of Shakespeare's plays, although 
 neither history nor romance had interested or ap- 
 pealed to Wakefield's mind. Casually, one even- 
 ing Ranee had picked up the book; a passage in 
 "The Merchant of Venice" caught his eye and 
 he read it aloud to his partner. He was a good 
 reader, possessed of a deep, rich, sympathetic 
 voice, apt in dramatic emphasis at the right place, 
 and the words fell like music on Wakefield's ear. 
 
 " The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, 
 When the sweet wind did kiss the trees 
 And they did make no noise, in such a night 
 Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls 
 And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents, 
 Where Cressid lay that night. 
 
 " In such a night- 
 Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew 
 And saw the lion's shadow ere himself 
 And ran dismayed away. 
 
 [49]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 " In such a night 
 
 Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 
 Upon the wild sea banks, and waft her love 
 To come again to Carthage." 
 
 Wakefield walked quietly to the door, threw it 
 open, and looked up at the stars. The crescent 
 moon hung pendent over the pine-tree tops, the 
 moonbeams sifted through the foliage, and with 
 the zephyr's breath the light and shadow wove 
 lacework on the white snow. And in silence he 
 looked and looked again in a maze and whirl of 
 newborn thought. A thousand times he had 
 gazed without emotion to skies as diamond- 
 studded and the same pale orb of light, but had 
 seen not. The harmony of the words had served 
 as a magic formula to drop the veil from blinded 
 eyes, and a sense of hitherto unknown beauty 
 was conveyed to his soul. There were things 
 unseen that needed but this revelation to open a 
 new world and from that night Wakefield sat 
 at the feet of the Stratford bard and drank 
 knowledge, wisdom, and lore from an inexhaust- 
 ible fount. Not that he grasped the meaning 
 of it all at once, his mental processes were slow 
 and laborious, but it gradually quickened his 
 intellect and awakened him to the knowledge that 
 
 [50]
 
 STUDY AND WORK 
 
 "there were more things in heaven and earth 
 than his philosophy dreamt of." While Ranee 
 did not participate to the full in this newborn 
 enthusiasm it was more to his taste than the re- 
 laxations of the other wing of the house, and 
 he readily gave his evenings to the reading, inter- 
 pretation, and discussion of the plays. So the 
 winter nights were passed in this creative literary 
 atmosphere, and the feuds of the rival houses of 
 Montague and Capulet, the wooing of Desde- 
 mona, the sorrows of pitiful King Lear, the 
 melancholy Dane, fat Jack Falstaff, and the rest 
 of those immortal beings, were "summoned like 
 spirits from the vasty deep," and in fancy "strut- 
 ted and fretted their hour upon the stage." Be- 
 fore that winter passed Wakefield had enlarged 
 his horizon, idealized his previous gross material- 
 ism, and rounded out a completeness of life un- 
 dreamed of before. 
 
 This was only the by-play. Ranee had fash- 
 ioned a pair of Norwegian snowshoes and by 
 practice had become fairly expert in their use. 
 Once a week by their aid he visited Downieville, 
 got the mail, bought the latest newspapers on 
 sale, made a little pack which he strapped to 
 his back, and returned to the "City." It con- 
 
 [51]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 sumed about half an hour to make the descent 
 and six hours to climb back, but his hardened 
 muscles responded easily to the task. Everybody 
 got letters except Tex, who, according to his 
 story, with the exception of a brother whose 
 whereabouts were unknown, had neither wife, 
 chick, nor relation so far as he knew, and while 
 at times envying his comrades the pure pleasure 
 they got from these home missives, consoled him- 
 self by the belief that when he had made his 
 pile, his matrimonial eligibility would be so en- 
 hanced that he would be able to pick up a prize 
 if so minded. 
 
 As the partners became more accustomed to 
 the new phase of mining, they acquired expert- 
 ness, and by the middle of February of the new 
 year, had driven in their tunnel over one hundred 
 feet as well as pushed lateral drifts, or crosscuts, 
 to the boundaries of the channel. By these they 
 discovered that the old river had an average 
 breadth of seventy feet, and on both sides the 
 bedrock rose up abruptly, completely cutting off 
 the gravel formation and filling the ends of the 
 crosscuts with solid rock. They had also caught 
 on to the knack of timbering, and supported 
 the ground with heavy beams, thus preventing 
 
 [52]
 
 STUDY AND WORK 
 
 any danger of a cave-in. Better still, there were 
 numerous indications that they were in good 
 ground. The gold-bearing stratum averaged 
 about three feet in thickness, although the rich 
 pay streak was not more than six inches, and 
 the best of it all lay directly on top of the bed- 
 rock and in the crevices and inequalities of the 
 rock bottom of the old river-bed. The half -foot 
 averaged a dollar to the pan, while from the 
 bedrock itself they had frequently panned out 
 from an ounce to five ounces from a candle- 
 boxful (two pans) of the choice scrapings. Then 
 they had picked out several nuggets, one weigh- 
 ing four ounces; and one of the Ohioans ran 
 across a quartz boulder as big as his two fists, 
 that was seamed through and through with thin 
 veins of gold. This they had put aside as a 
 specimen without attempting to break it up and 
 ascertain the value of its contents. It afforded 
 them some amusement in the way of a guessing 
 match as to its probable yield, ranging all the 
 way from fifty to two hundred and fifty dollars. 
 It was finally agreed that each should put his 
 name and a figure on a piece of paper, place it 
 in a sealed envelope, and in the spring they would 
 take the boulder to town and apply the specific 
 
 [53]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 gravity test, the one nearest the mark to keep 
 the boulder for his own. 
 
 Beyond a lay-off, the holidays had gone by 
 unnoticed. Mike took a three days' vacation at 
 Christmas and came back vowing that he had 
 disgraced himself, having indulged in neither 
 shindy nor spree, neither had he gorged himself 
 with square meals at the hotels. 
 
 "Faith, they haven't got any more variety 
 than we have, and in the matter of cooking, 
 Ranee can give them cards and spades and then 
 bate them." 
 
 His excuse for not falling into temptation 
 was characteristic. 
 
 "Sure," he said, "I'm getting to be a solid 
 man, what with the share that's coming to me 
 and what I already hev stuck away in a few 
 ould yeast-powder cans. It doesn't become me 
 as a capitalist to be squandering me gains for the 
 benefit of a lot of blood-suckers and gin-mill 
 keepers. Besides, it would be a reflection on the 
 good name of 'The City of Six.' If we had 
 called it 'Dublin Flat,' as I mintioned, a trifle 
 of liquor would go well with the name, but as it 
 is, I '11 give the whiskey the go-by for the prisent. 
 Mind ye," he thoughtfully added, "I promise 
 
 [54]
 
 STUDY AND WORK 
 
 nothing for the spring except if I don't touch 
 it for six months, why should I for six years, if 
 I be so minded?" 
 
 The fact was that Mike, whose sprees had been 
 more a question of good-fellowship with chance 
 acquaintances than a taste for liquor itself, had, 
 when he found himself on the road to wealth, in- 
 dulged in serious reflections as to the future. He 
 was a shrewd Irishman and the prospect of in- 
 dependence financially was more alluring to him 
 that the role of a roistering spendthrift, and 
 without any promises he had made an inward 
 resolution to lead a life of dignified sobriety. 
 Therefore he bore the good-natured bantering 
 of his companions and their affected wonder- 
 ment with complacency and was more than 
 pleased with the approval of Wakefield and 
 Ranee, whom, in his warm-hearted Irish way, 
 he regarded with affection and respect. 
 
 Their mining scheme in one direction had 
 slipped a cog. With four or five feet of snow 
 covering the ground, the possibility of a scarcity 
 of water had not entered their minds, and they 
 had reckoned on washing the pay dirt as soon 
 as extracted; but here they were at fault. They 
 had not taken into account the long, zero-cold 
 
 [55]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 nights and the almost sunless days. Their claim 
 was on the north slope of the mountain, and in 
 clear days the sun shone over the crest of the 
 ridge on their camp not more than a couple of 
 hours. As a consequence, for drinking and 
 cooking purposes melted snow was their only 
 recourse, while for gravel-washing there was 
 none except what trickled out from the drainage 
 of the tunnel, and that froze almost as quickly 
 as it reached the open air. At first they were 
 puzzled as to what to do to get around this ob- 
 stacle, but finally Tex suggested an expedient 
 that partially solved the problem. His idea was 
 to excavate a chamber some thirty feet from the 
 mouth of the tunnel large enough to hold a rocker 
 and a tub for panning, hollow out a hole for a 
 pool in the bedrock, and let the drainage water 
 flow in and out. By this they would have suffi- 
 cient water to rock the richest of the gravel and 
 pan the bedrock scrapings. The remainder of 
 the dirt extracted could be wheeled out and 
 dumped in the head of the ravine until the thaw 
 and melting snows of the springtime furnished 
 a Tom head, when a grand cleaning up of the 
 winter's work could be had. As the temperature 
 at thirty feet inside was at least thirty degrees 
 
 [56]
 
 STUDY AND WORK 
 
 higher than in the open air it worked nicely, and 
 the little company were gratified with daily 
 tangible proofs of the extraordinary richness of 
 their ground. After the adoption of this method 
 the average daily yield was over one hundred 
 dollars, which, with the unknown but valuable 
 asset of the ever-accumulating dump pile in the 
 canyon, made them more than content with their 
 lot. 
 
 [57]
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 nn HE channel gravel was mixed with boulders 
 of white quartz from six inches to two feet 
 in diameter, which had to be wheeled out; and 
 they had disposed of them by walling up both 
 sides of the open cut and beyond with these 
 rocks, building up a solid wall two feet thick 
 and five feet in height. These were muddy and 
 clay-stained, and no particular attention had 
 been paid to them. Ranee, who had added black- 
 smithing to his accomplishments and spent an 
 hour daily at the crude forge set under the timber 
 roof sharpening pick points and crowbars, noted 
 the drip of water from the melting snow over- 
 head, and as it fell upon the wall, the contrast 
 between it and the glassy white quartz where 
 it had washed away the adhering clay. It was 
 an idle and purposeless gaze, yet was suddenly 
 fixed by what seemed to be a splash of glittering 
 yellow. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, 
 distrusting the accuracy of his vision, but it was 
 still there. The dropping water had exposed a 
 
 ' [58]
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 clean surface of about a hand's-breadth, and 
 through it ran a two-inch streak of solid gold. 
 Still doubting his senses he went to the forge, 
 and, getting a dipper full of water, cleaned away 
 a larger space, which not only exposed six inches 
 more of the precious metal in the vein, but 
 brought to light a dozen smaller and intersecting 
 streaks. Then he went into the tunnel, procured 
 a bucketful, and repeated the cleansing process 
 until all of the rock not embedded in the wall 
 was brought to view. It was a pretty sight 
 splashes, streaks, and veins of gold running over 
 it in every direction, apparently more metal 
 than quartz in its make-up. Ranee stood for 
 a time fascinated, then turned as weak as a sick 
 kitten, until it finally oozed into his brain that 
 he was neither drunk nor crazy, and that he had 
 discovered the daddy of all nuggets so far as 
 heard from. Grasping this idea, his next mood 
 was one of intense gratification that he had been 
 the lucky one ; for at times he had been somewhat 
 disquieted with the thought that his comrades 
 were bearing the brunt of the hard work and 
 that he was having an easier task than that 
 alloted to his partners. Here, however, he could 
 even up accounts, although he had had no part 
 
 [59]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 in unearthing it from the channel. With these 
 thoughts flitting through his mind, he hung an 
 old sack over the boulder, and going to the tun- 
 nel yelled to his comrades to come forth, which 
 they did with all speed, fearing that an accident 
 had happened to their chum. They were some- 
 what mystified when he drew them up in a row 
 facing the sack, asking not to be interrupted, 
 and then with the air of a showman, directed 
 them to fix their eyes on if. Counting "one, 
 two, three," he whisked the covering away and 
 stepped aside to watch the effect. Mike's eye 
 caught it first, and with a "Holy mother of 
 Moses!" he sprang to the wall, followed by the 
 rest. The Ohioans shouted, Tex gave a whoop 
 that could have been heard on the river, and 
 Wakefield grasped Ranee's hand with a grip 
 that disabled that member for the rest of the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Recovering from their unqualified astonish- 
 ment, the first impulse, acted on at once, was to 
 remove the boulder from the wall and give it a 
 critical examination. It was taken out, carried 
 to the blacksmith's tub, and washed, the cleansing 
 process demonstrating that the greater part of 
 it was virgin gold. Then it was moved to the 
 
 [60]
 
 He drew them up in a row, facing the sack, and whisked the 
 covering away."
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 cabin and placed on the table, and the partners 
 sat around gloating over its size and beauty and 
 speculating on its value. Ranee rehearsed the 
 details of his discovery, his doubt and incredulity, 
 his final conviction, the turmoil of brain, the 
 ensuing recovery of mental equilibrium, the 
 dramatic surprise planned for his comrades, and 
 the feeling that the pleasure of revealing the find 
 almost exceeded the joy of discovery. To their 
 credit be it said that while not one of them would 
 have been capable of such an action, there came to 
 each the question as to what he would have done 
 in like circumstances. It would have been so 
 easy to have re-daubed it with mud, removed 
 it from the wall, and hidden it away. Perhaps 
 they were grateful not to have been tempted, 
 human nature is so weak. Ranee modestly dis- 
 claimed any credit some of them would have 
 run across it before long. And then came 
 guessing relative to its value and as to what 
 should be done with it. No one pretended to 
 closely estimate its worth; there were no scales 
 on which to weigh it, and if there had been they 
 would have merely given the weight of the mass. 
 Tex and the brothers were for breaking it up, 
 ieparating the gold from the quartz, and chipping 
 
 [61]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the metal into pieces small enough to weigh on 
 the little gold-scales, the utmost capacity of 
 which was but five ounces. This was negatived, 
 at least for the present, and then Mike made a 
 suggestion which seemed to meet the emergency. 
 
 "Let's pick out a boulder as near the size of 
 this one as we can find. Av coorse it will be 
 having no gold into it ; it does n't stand to rayson 
 that there can be many more like it." 
 
 "Why not?" interjected Tex. "There is as 
 much reason for another one as for this. Let 
 us go down in the cut and wash off the wall. 
 I wouldn't be surprised if there were a dozen 
 more." 
 
 That view met with unanimous approval, and 
 with one accord they started for the door, but 
 halted as Mike said, 
 
 "What! lave that lump of beauty alone on 
 the table while we are pothering around looking 
 for more, and some one coming along to take it 
 away with him, the dirty thafe!" 
 
 The absurdity of such a happening did not 
 strike them, nor the fact that for over three 
 months there had been neither visitor nor passer- 
 by. There on the table was visible and tangible 
 
 [62]
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 wealth. Murder had been done for less, and it 
 was better to take no risks. 
 
 Thoughtful Wakefield passed his hand over 
 his forehead and remarked that it might be a 
 dream, and they would all wake up directly and 
 wonder at the vividness of it; at which Ranee 
 pooh-poohed and bade them go ahead. 
 
 "I have supper to get. You are all in a 
 trance now, but you will be hungry enough when 
 you come out of it. Be off with you, and I will 
 take care of the nugget." 
 
 For an hour they worked industriously, bring- 
 ing out buckets of water from the rocker pool 
 and scouring the face of the wall. In vain; not 
 a speck of gold could be found, and it must be 
 confessed that they were disappointed, for their 
 cupidity had been stimulated to a high pitch, and 
 when they again assembled in the cabin the 
 precious boulder seemed to have shrunk into 
 smaller dimensions. 
 
 "Well, you are a queer lot," laughed Ranee, 
 "and it's hard to satisfy you. The next one I 
 find, I'll roll it down the hill, and then there 
 will be no occasion for disgust." 
 
 "Yes, of course you will," retorted Wakefield; 
 
 [63]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 " but, Ranee, it must have come from somewhere, 
 and there is no argument to prove that there is 
 no more." 
 
 " Of course, it is from somewhere," flung back 
 Ranee. "Look at it, round and smooth, ground 
 and polished as it rolled down the river bed, and 
 it is from the source where all the rest of the 
 gold in the channel came from. Maybe you can 
 tell us where that was, and what sort of a country ' 
 this was when this old, dried-up, played-out 
 stream was running bank-full two thousand feet 
 above the Yuba River. Come on and eat your 
 supper, and don't worry over theories." 
 
 They fell to, not with very hearty appetites 
 and more or less depressed ; the reaction from the 
 excitement told upon their spirits. 
 
 "Well, I swear I wish I had never found it," 
 scolded Ranee; "you are a nice lot of men. If 
 it had been double the size, I expect you would 
 have all gone out and hung yourselves on the 
 old pine tree." 
 
 Thus rallied, they began to get back into their 
 old form, and Mike's suggestion was recalled. 
 A boulder approximating the precious one in 
 dimensions was brought up to the cabin; in size 
 the barren rock was equal to the nugget, but by 
 
 [64]
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 mere test of hand the latter was double in weight. 
 Mike's idea was to improvise a balance by ad- 
 justing a crowbar on a cross-piece of steel, the 
 latter supported on two benches; the crowbar 
 kept from slipping by wiring it loosely to the 
 cross-piece, which was done. Then the nugget 
 was slung to one end of the bar and a hundred- 
 pound sack of flour to the other. The flour was 
 the heavier, but a ten-pound can of coffee on 
 the nugget restored the equilibrium. Result, the 
 gold and quartz weighed approximately about 
 ninety pounds. Then a fifty-pound sack of rice 
 replaced the flour; the barren boulder, the nug- 
 get. The rice was the weightier, and it took the 
 ten-pound can of coffee to balance up the boul- 
 der, less four full yeast-powder cans at four 
 ounces each. It followed that the barren boulder 
 weighed forty-one pounds, the nugget ninety 
 pounds; hence there was forty-nine pounds of 
 gold, or over ten thousand dollars. 
 
 "I guess we have got no complaint coming," 
 said the Dean; "that is over fifteen hundred 
 dollars apiece for one day's work, and there is 
 plenty more where it came from." 
 
 "Hould on there, ye blundering figurers," 
 roared Mike, "ten thousand, is it? What's the 
 
 [65]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 difference between Troy and avirdapoise? Tell 
 me that. Me schooling was neglected, although 
 Father Dunn tried to bate that into me thick 
 skull, but ye don't weigh gould the same as you 
 do baf e. Is it more or liss ? Sure, I '11 give up me 
 share if I Ve taken a penny off the value of the 
 beauty." 
 
 But he had not. There were four ounces more 
 to be counted to the pound and twenty-five hun- 
 dred dollars added to its worth. The process was 
 crude, and the result would probably vary a 
 pound or two when its exact weight should be 
 determined; but it was conceded that they were 
 richer by almost fourteen thousand dollars than 
 before the find had been made. 
 
 For a week the partners worked on fever- 
 ishly and with a half-formed belief that their 
 luck would lead to another and perhaps bigger 
 find. Careful examination was made of every 
 stone extracted, but there were no nuggets dis- 
 covered. The gravel, however, gave no indica- 
 tion of falling off in value, and they had to con- 
 tent themselves with an average of an ounce a 
 day or thereabouts. It was finally decided not 
 to break up the rich boulder, but to cache it away 
 until spring. A hole three feet deep was dug in 
 
 [66]
 
 THE GIANT NUGGET 
 
 the centre of the dining-room, and there it was 
 buried out of sight, the dirt packed down tightly 
 over it, and there it remained until its final dis- 
 posal. 
 
 For a time there was a conscious change in 
 their attitudes to one another, a spirit not of dis- 
 trust, but of vague unrest. The good-fellowship 
 abated a degree, the euchre games lost their zest, 
 Tex was less voluble, the brothers drew off into 
 corners and planned a future that eliminated the 
 foothills, and Mike's cheery jokes and sarcasm 
 lost their point. On the other side of the cabin 
 Ranee no longer read Shakespeare aloud; the 
 Dean pored over the volume with a far-away 
 look in his eyes that indicated no very close at- 
 tention to the text. As for Ranee, his occupation 
 suddenly became distasteful, and while he did 
 not resign, it was understood that with the clos- 
 ing of winter and the end of the season's work, 
 his place as cook would have to be filled by some 
 other one of the partners. He was dreaming 
 dreams of a return to civilization, to a com- 
 panionship with the gentler sex, and an abandon- 
 ment of his present semi-barbarous existence. It 
 seemed as if the discovery of the nugget had 
 loosed from imprisonment some baleful spirit, 
 
 [67]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 an imp of discontent that hovered around the 
 place and drove away the former good cheer and 
 jolly fellowship. 
 
 So far, however, all had gone well, and the 
 partners did their best to shake off the depression 
 and restore the old atmosphere, and would prob- 
 ably have succeeded had not a tragedy brushed 
 them close. 
 
 [68]
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE LYNCHING 
 
 /^~\NE Sunday afternoon Ranee returned from 
 his regular mail trip to Downieville, dis- 
 hevelled, trembling, and pale as a ghost. That he 
 was laboring under strong excitement was evi- 
 dent, and his comrades gathered around him 
 with sympathetic faces anxious for an explana- 
 tion. His clothes were in disorder, his shirt 
 torn, and there was every evidence that he had 
 been a participant in some sort of row, from 
 which they feared he had not escaped unscathed. 
 
 Waving his hands in the air he exclaimed, 
 
 "Oh, boys, it was horrible!" 
 
 "What was horrible? what is it? what is the 
 matter with you, Ranee?" demanded Wakefield, 
 in a fever of anxiety. 
 
 "The matter?" cried Ranee. "My God! the 
 beasts! the hounds! they hung a woman in Dow- 
 nieville to-day lynched her in cold blood, and 
 we were powerless to save her." 
 
 The partners gazed at him incredulously. 
 Such a thing was beyond belief; had he lost his 
 
 [69]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 wits? Hang a woman! Impossible, even in so 
 rough a community. Surely, if the gamblers 
 and desperadoes had made such an attempt the 
 miners would have wiped them off the face of 
 the earth. 
 
 "The miners," retorted Ranee, "they were the 
 barbarians that did it," and he shook with emo- 
 tion as he recalled the scene. 
 
 "Calm yourself, Ranee," said Wakefield; 
 "you surely had no hand in it. Tell us what 
 has happened and how it came about." 
 
 "No, I had nothing to do with it except to 
 try and save her; and they came within an ace 
 of hanging me, too, the cowards." 
 
 Mike, who usually knew the right thing to 
 do, went to the cabin, filled a cup half full of 
 whiskey, and returning, forced it on Ranee, who 
 was in a state of collapse. 
 
 "You need a bracer," said Mike, "take a long 
 drink and steady your nerves, and let us know 
 what has come across you to get you in such a 
 state." 
 
 Thus adjured, Ranee gulped down the liquor 
 and began his tale. 
 
 "I got into town about ten o'clock and went 
 to the post-office after the letters and I met 
 
 [70]
 
 THE LYNCHING 
 
 Harry Thornton there. We shook hands and 
 then he said, 'Ranee, there is a lot of trouble 
 on hand. A miner was murdered this morning, 
 there is a rough crowd gathering, and it means 
 mischief. I don't believe the mob will hurt the 
 woman, but it is liable to turn loose and clean 
 out the Greasers by way of retaliation.' 
 
 'What woman?' I asked, 'what has she done? 
 and how are the Mexicans concerned with it?' 
 
 " 'Anita did the stabbing,' he replied. 
 
 "Y.ou know Anita," said Ranee to his part- 
 ners. They had all heard of or knew her. She 
 was a little slip of a Mexican girl, a handsome 
 type of her race, whose loose morals and pro- 
 fession were well understood throughout the 
 camp, a woman no better nor worse than a dozen 
 of her kind who made the town their dwelling- 
 place. 
 
 "From what Thornton told me, the miner 
 had been on a drunken carouse for a week. This 
 morning, in a particularly ugly mood he at- 
 tempted to force an entrance to Anita's house, 
 and she refused to let him in, doubtless afraid 
 that in his drunken state he would abuse her. 
 Her refusal maddened him, and kicking the door 
 in, he raised his hand to strike her, when crazy 
 
 [71]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 with fear she drew a knife and plunged it into 
 his heart. The fellow fell dead on the doorstep, 
 and she ran screaming up the street and into 
 the Magnolia Saloon, where she gasped out in- 
 coherently that she had stabbed a man. The 
 sheriff took her to the log jail, and the dead 
 man was brought to the court-house and laid out 
 preparatory to a coroner's inquest. The town 
 was full of miners he was a miner from Poker 
 Flat, and some of the rougher spirits began 
 to agitate the justice of cleaning out the 'Greas- 
 ers.' The Mexicans, anticipating some such ac- 
 tion, decamped down the river and out of harm's 
 way, a move that balked and enraged the mob. 
 The members headed back up the street, howling 
 and yelling for vengeance and some one cried, 
 * Hang the ! ' Then they went wild, bat- 
 tered in the jail door, seized the poor woman, 
 ran her down to the bridge over the river, 
 fastened a rope to the rail and around her neck, 
 and pushed her over. Great God! boys, would 
 you believe that white men could do such a thing? 
 It all happened after Harry began to tell me 
 the trouble. The gamblers scattered to cover, 
 they were afraid the mob would turn its attention 
 
 [72]
 
 THE LYNCHING 
 
 to them; the merchants closed their doors and 
 shut themselves inside their stores, white-livered 
 cowards that they were. Harry and I drew our 
 six-shooters, forced our way into the crowd, ap- 
 pealed and threatened, got knocked down and 
 trampled on for our pains, and then they began 
 to yell, 'Hang the damned ChivsF and I reckon 
 they would have done it, for they forced us on 
 the bridge, but the ghastly sight of that body, 
 twisting and turning over the river, her hands 
 clenched in the rope at her throat, and her dis- 
 torted face, sickened them as it sickened me, and 
 the crowd melted away as quickly as it came 
 together. That revulsion of feeling was all that 
 saved us. They cut her down immediately, I 
 don't know who; I could not stand the sight. 
 Oh, it was awful!" and Ranee covered his face 
 with his hands, as if to shut out the vision. Re- 
 covering himself he added, "Worse than all, 
 boys, the hounds took two lives, one unborn into 
 the world." 
 
 Ranee's narrative put them all out of sorts. 
 It was incredible that such an inhuman, dastardly 
 crime could have been perpetrated. Ranee 
 gradually recovered his equanimity, the letters 
 
 [73]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 and papers served to turn their thoughts mo- 
 mentarily into other channels, although one and 
 all denounced Downieville and the cowards that 
 had stood by or sought cover while the tragedy 
 was being enacted. 
 
 [74]
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 rp HE Winter of '52-' 53 was one of the most 
 inclement ever experienced in California. 
 Rains in the valleys and snowstorms in the moun- 
 tains were almost continuous until early spring. 
 Then there came a warm spell accompanied with 
 a sou'easter, before which the snowdrifts disap- 
 peared as if by magic. Every ravine became 
 a brawling torrent, the rivers a mad rush of wild 
 waters, and the plains a vast lake. As the val- 
 leys were sparsely settled, but little damage was 
 done beyond the drowning of a few cattle ; while 
 in the hills the raging streams merely obliterated 
 the old work along their banks, sweeping away 
 the flumes and sluices, restoring the bars to their 
 original unvexed condition, here and there under- 
 mining a camp perched too near the water's edge, 
 or cutting through a bend, making new channels 
 and leaving dry the old ones. The equinoctial 
 storms over, the warm sun shone through the 
 lengthened days and the mysterious reincarna- 
 tion of nature began: the foothills donned their 
 
 [75]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 robes of green and gold; flowers spangled every 
 hillock ; the black oak put forth its tender leaves ; 
 the red berries clustered thickly on the manzanita 
 boughs, a feast spread for the predatory grizzly; 
 the piping quail that had retreated before the 
 winter storms to the lowlands, paired off and 
 sought the chamizal-clothed mountain-side and 
 made their nests in its densest thicket; and the 
 incomparable springtime of the Sierra slopes re- 
 vivified and gladdened every living thing. 
 
 With it disappeared the depression and gloom 
 bred of the loneliness of their winter retreat that 
 had fallen on "The City of Six." They had 
 come fairly well through the enforced com- 
 panionship and close contact of a six months' 
 association, a supreme test of character. Per- 
 haps the Dean was more taciturn, his Shake- 
 spearean studies had stimulated his reflective 
 faculties and made him somewhat impatient of 
 the triteness of ordinary topics ; Tex had become 
 feverishly voluble and lived in the past of his bor- 
 der and Mexican war experiences; the hearts of 
 the brothers a commonplace and unromantic 
 pair they were turned to their old Ohio homes 
 and the fat and fertile acres in which they longed 
 to invest their riches; and light-hearted Ranee, 
 
 [76]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 since the tragedy on the river, had become 
 peevish, morbid, and irritable. He fairly loathed 
 the place and its surroundings, detested his oc- 
 cupation, and longed to get away to a more 
 congenial environment. 
 
 Mike was the only partner who came through 
 it all unchanged, or if changed, certainly for the 
 better. As his hoard grew, so his self-esteem 
 and self-reliance increased. A rollicking, devil- 
 may-care, poverty-stricken son of the bog and a 
 Celtic gentleman fairly well favored by fortune, 
 were different individuals; and there were possi- 
 bilities in the latter role which appealed to this 
 shrewd, capable fellow. To a great extent he 
 had displaced Wakefield as chief adviser, and 
 that without any irritating arrogance or con- 
 scious usurpation. He had already planned a 
 campaign ahead, which he proposed to submit 
 at the right moment, and least in his mind was 
 any contingency that involved the abandonment 
 of the rich claim. 
 
 So matters stood at the end of April. They 
 had penetrated the mountain-side quite two 
 hundred feet, and the channel showed no sign of 
 giving out. Their main and lateral drifts, with 
 what coyoting they had done in the richer spots, 
 
 [77]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 had yielded about twenty-two thousand dollars, 
 besides the big nugget cached under the floor. 
 There was a huge pile of gravel dumped in the 
 head of the ravine, of unknown value; yet they 
 knew the gold was sifted through it, for after 
 a heavy rainstorm they could see the evidence 
 of it in the shiny particles that spangled its sur- 
 face. The melting snows provided plenty of 
 water to wash it down, so they set the sluice and 
 "long Tom" and began work. It took them ten 
 days to complete the task; it was prolonged by 
 the continual proof in the yellow-lined bottoms 
 of the sluices of the necessity of slow and careful 
 washing to prevent waste. Each night's clean- 
 up resulted in a yield that nearly took their 
 breath away, a prospect-pan brimful of coarse, 
 rounded and polished gold from the size of mus- 
 tard seed to lumps that ran into the ounces, and 
 when it was all done and the harvest gathered, 
 that pile of dirt, which had hardly been taken 
 into calculation, added to their store forty-one 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 It was a more cheerful crowd that gathered 
 around the table that May night. After all, 
 there had been no hardships, no sickness, no ac- 
 cidents; a little unstringing of the nerves per- 
 
 [78]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 haps from the monotony of the life and the 
 loneliness of it all, but here was their reward, 
 over twelve thousand dollars to the share, and 
 apparently their mining ground barely opened. 
 Even Ranee brightened up and took a less 
 gloomy view of the camp. Of course, they all 
 had their plans, diverging views, which while 
 not irreconcilable, needed modification to meet 
 the general good; and as the hour grew late 
 Mike proposed that they postpone further dis- 
 cussion and give the next day to an effort to 
 find common ground. 
 
 It was a warm, balmy spring day when the 
 partners, impatient of the confinement between 
 the log walls, sat down under a big sugar pine 
 not too far away from the cabin, for there their 
 treasure lay. With the disappearance of snow 
 the old trails were once more trod ; dwellers from 
 the camps over the ridge paying long-deferred 
 visits to the county seat, restless miners on the 
 road hunting richer diggings and fresher fields, 
 sports passing on horse and mule back, who 
 neither toiled nor spun (except the ivory ball 
 in the whirling roulette wheel) and yet were 
 clothed in broadcloth (Ranee viewed their ap- 
 parel with envy as they passed by) , and sinister- 
 
 [79]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 looking Mexicans, mustang-mounted Greasers, 
 who were watched with cautious glances, for 
 Joaquin Murieta's band had been raiding, plun- 
 dering, and murdering in the adjoining counties. 
 
 The first question was the disposal of the 
 gold, and it was decided that the better plan 
 would be to sell it outright to the express and 
 bank agency at Downieville, if satisfactory terms 
 could be had, or if not, to ship it by express to 
 the U. S. Assay Office at San Francisco, where 
 they would be sure of a fair deal. There was 
 nearly four hundred pounds, including the nug- 
 get; but as the trail was all down hill, the six 
 could manage between them to pack the treasure 
 to a place of safety and without any great peril, 
 as outside their own little band nobody knew the 
 extent or value of their accumulations. 
 
 This settled, there came the weightier point 
 of future operations, and each set forth his views 
 and intentions. Wakefield announced that he 
 meant to pay a visit to his old home, not to stay, 
 but his heart was yearning for a sight of the 
 wife and baby, not realizing that that same baby 
 was now quite a young lady. Besides, the 
 recent letters had warned him of his wife's fail- 
 ing health incipient consumption, a friend 
 
 [80]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 wrote; a little cough as she alluded to it, and 
 he planned to bring them back, to a home in the 
 glorious, health-giving mountains. 
 
 Ranee projected a long and pleasurable visit 
 to San Francisco, perhaps a settling down in 
 the budding city, although he wanted to retain 
 his interest in the property and hinted at putting 
 a competent substitute into the kitchen. 
 
 Tex had no plan. He was as well off here as 
 elsewhere, perhaps better. There was no home 
 for him to go back to, and no relatives or kin 
 except a brother whom he had not seen for years 
 and whose whereabouts were unknown. He might 
 take a little pasear down to the Bay just for a 
 change, and that over, was ready to get down to 
 work again. 
 
 The brothers from Ohio had mutually and 
 definitely decided to go back to the Buckeye 
 State, purchase farms, and settle into their old 
 life, as lived prior to their adventurous journey 
 to the Pacific. They were willing to dispose of 
 their interest in the claims to their partners at 
 a reasonable price, to be agreed upon, or if not, 
 to some outsider looking after a profitable in- 
 vestment. 
 
 This left Mike the last to announce his inten- 
 
 [81]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tions, which he did not seem to be in any haste 
 to do. He had listened to his partners without 
 any comment, and would have made none had 
 they not insisted on knowing his plans. At last 
 he said, 
 
 " I 'm not quite ready, byes, to tell ye what 's 
 in me head, excipt it's not me prisent intintion 
 to run away from good fortune. Ye may think 
 ye can find another piece of ground out of which 
 ye may take siventy thousand dollars in a win- 
 ter's work, or perhaps ye have got more money 
 than ye can spind in the rest of your natural 
 lives ; but I 'm not holding to ayther one of thim 
 opinions." 
 
 "Well, Mike," asked Wakefield, "what do 
 you propose? Have you planned out the future 
 for all of us?" 
 
 "I have me own ideas, but it 's a little airly 
 to spake of thim. I'm just as tired as the rist 
 of ye of hard wurrk, and it 's little more I mane 
 to do of it ; it 's a boss I wud be, and I think I 
 see not only me own, but a chanst for us all. 
 I '11 make me proposal. It 's no rush we are in. 
 Let's dispose of our goold, take it aisy for a 
 week, during which time I will be absint, then 
 
 [82]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 we'll have a grand pow-wow and make up our 
 minds what's best for to do." 
 
 Mike was obstinate and would say nothing 
 further. 
 
 "It's not prepared to spake I am until I 
 go over to Forest City, Alleghany, and Moore's 
 Flat. They're doing things over there I want 
 to know about, and whin I come back we'll go 
 into the matter at more length." 
 
 They yielded to his views. Mike had risen 
 greatly in their respect during their comrade- 
 ship, had proved resourceful, intelligent, and 
 endowed with a store of good hard sense. And 
 then withal, he was so jolly, good-natured, and 
 brimming over with mother wit that he had, with- 
 out seeking it, displaced Wakefield's tacit leader- 
 ship, and that without protest on the latter's 
 part. In fact, since Wakefield had yielded to 
 the glamour of Shakespeare's pages he had be- 
 come meditative and silent. The trouble was 
 that much reading had plunged his mind into 
 a yeasty condition he was in an intellectual fer- 
 ment. It was a serious question whether it was 
 working good or evil; it had brought discontent 
 with his condition without compensation in an 
 
 [83]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 improvement. Wakefield was born to be a plod- 
 der, a sober, industrious, bourgeois citizen, not 
 gifted to grapple with or solve world problems, 
 nor had he troubled himself with them until the 
 book fell into his hands. Since then he had 
 grown morbid, aspiring to a broader life and 
 wider knowledge, and not comprehending just 
 how to attain his aspirations. What he needed 
 was a change of scene, a contact with the busy 
 outside world, and the chances were that his 
 contemplated trip to the States would bring 
 with it a cure. 
 
 The day following the five made the trip to 
 Downieville with the treasure, Ranee resolutely 
 refusing to again visit what to him was an ac- 
 cursed spot; the proceeds were sold to the ex- 
 press company, including the nugget, for which 
 they received the full fourteen thousand dollars 
 they had estimated, and the total amount to their 
 credit reached $77,000, for which they were 
 given individual certificates of deposit, each to 
 the amount of his share. The disposal of the 
 gold lifted a burden of anxiety, and while a mere 
 piece of paper was not quite as tangible as the 
 dust, still it represented real wealth and was 
 negotiable. 
 
 [84]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 On their return, Ranee signified his intention 
 to accompany Mike on his tour of observation. 
 The Irishman was delighted with the proposal, 
 and the next morning they started for the camps 
 over the ridge. They found that the same ancient 
 channel in which they had been working extended 
 across country for at least a dozen miles and was 
 being exploited at many points where the gulches, 
 canyons, and rivers had cut through and exposed 
 it. Moreover, companies had been formed, new 
 methods introduced, and the exploitation re- 
 duced to a system that made possible the mining 
 and extraction of the gravel the full width of 
 the channel, and gangs of men were employed 
 at day wages to do the work, superseding the 
 cooperative labor of the owners. Mike had got 
 a hint of this from travellers on the old trail who 
 had lingered for a chat, and it was this that had 
 set him thinking of the possibilities of The City 
 of Six mine. They also found lively growing 
 hamlets of a thousand or more people, where 
 six months previous there had been but a few 
 log cabins. These camps were at the height of 
 prosperity, and the scene of a wild, free, lawless 
 life that equalled in excitement and recklessness 
 the flush days of '49. It was a holiday for both 
 
 [85]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Mike and Ranee, and while they did not yield 
 to any of the seductive temptations and fought 
 shy of both drink and hazard, it was a joy to 
 rub elbows, so to speak, with their kind and to 
 see new faces and fresh vistas of life. They 
 were both in the best of spirits on their return, 
 where they found their companions waiting 
 somewhat impatiently. Without any unneces- 
 sary delay, Mike at once plunged into the sub- 
 ject, ably supported by Ranee, who had become 
 thoroughly convinced of the wisdom of Mike's 
 ideas. 
 
 Briefly, he was persuaded they were all tired 
 of hard work and solitude, even if they had been 
 handsomely paid for their privations; but in his 
 opinion they had hardly scratched the ground 
 on their property. They were entitled, according 
 to the mining laws adopted at neighboring 
 camps, to three thousand feet on the channel; 
 and as they had the only available opening, the 
 old stream running into and under the mountain, 
 they really commanded a couple of miles free 
 from interference. His proposal was that they 
 should form a company, of which each should 
 own one-sixth of the shares. A manager and 
 assistant should be appointed to take charge of 
 
 [86]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 the mine, a gang of hired miners put to work, 
 as many as they could profitably employ, and 
 the property run on a big scale. The scheme 
 was discussed, pro and con, and met with favor 
 except from the brothers, who had concluded that 
 they had had enough of mining and were going 
 back home with no intention of returning. Still, 
 they were willing to sell their interests at what- 
 ever price mutually agreed upon as just and 
 reasonable. A bargain was soon struck, twenty 
 thousand dollars for the third interest was fixed 
 as a fair figure, and the sale concluded. Each of 
 the remaining four owned a quarter interest. 
 It was the end of The City of Six, so far as the 
 name coincided with the number of inhabitants, 
 and a breaking up of the primitive life of its 
 founders. 
 
 Mike, urged to take the managership and 
 nothing loth, consented to assume direction of 
 affairs, and Tex was quite willing to act as his 
 lieutenant. All of the legal documents required 
 to consummate the arrangement were duly pre- 
 pared, accepted, and signed; the corporation 
 took on being as the Old Channel Mining Com- 
 pany, and the new era began. 
 
 The Ohioans gathered together their few be- 
 
 [87]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 longings, bade their companions good-bye, and 
 departed. A few days later, Wakefield took the 
 trail for the lowlands, turning his footsteps home- 
 ward with considerable reluctance. However, 
 his absence was to be but temporary; it was his 
 avowed intention to return with wife and child 
 before the summer was over. Ranee lingered 
 for a time. The charm of the independent, ir- 
 responsible life appealed to him with redoubled 
 force, especially as the menial duties of cook 
 were no longer necessary. Besides, he had taken 
 a great liking to the big-hearted Irishman, and 
 formed an admiration for his capabilities. He 
 was convinced that the comparatively few thou- 
 sands taken out of the property was but a small 
 portion of what it would yield in the future, 
 and if their expectations were realized, this meant 
 an income that would command leisure, ease, 
 and enjoyment. Then again, the region was at 
 this time of the year a veritable paradise, the 
 balmy air an intoxication to his senses; a siesta 
 at full length under the shadow of the tree, on 
 a soft bed of pine needles, invited an irresponsible 
 loafing spell; yes, he would not hurry away, the 
 summer was before him, he would just sit around 
 
 [88]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX GROWS 
 
 a while and watch Mike and Tex expend their 
 stored-up energy. 
 
 These two worthies were more than content. 
 Dozens of men passed along the trail daily, 
 many of them willing to work, especially as the 
 wage scale was fixed at an attractive figure, and 
 by the end of the first week of the birth of the 
 new company a gang of ten stalwart miners were 
 busy making improvements. The first and most 
 necessary addition was a bunk and boarding- 
 house, built of logs, as sawed lumber was not 
 available ; the next, some one capable of running 
 the "beanery," as they dubbed it, to the satis- 
 faction of the boarders. One of the new men 
 mentioned the fact that there was a widow over 
 at Nigger Tent on the ridge who he thought was 
 helping in that classically named wayside inn 
 "for her keep." 
 
 [89]
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 RUTH PROVES A TREASURE TO THE CAMP 
 
 ' ' T3 ANCE, ye lazy divil, ride over and fetch 
 her back if ye have to bind her hands and 
 feet and pack her on a mule. A woman, and a 
 widdy at that! Sure The City of Six nades a 
 little divarsity in its population. Besides," added 
 Mike, " she '11 bring contint to the min ; they '11 not 
 mind whether it 's good or bad cooking she does, 
 providing she 's not ould." 
 
 Ranee, who by the way had picked up a young 
 mustang and equipment at a bargain from an 
 impecunious traveller, undertook the errand; the 
 inn was down the ridge a dozen miles or so, and 
 he was ready for any jaunt that promised a 
 diversion. In a couple of days after his de- 
 parture he reappeared walking beside his horse, 
 the saddle occupied by a little woman, to 
 whom he was paying profound deference. He 
 had secured her services by promise of liberal 
 wage, and duly introduced her to Mike as Mrs. 
 Ruth Sage, originally from Boston and more 
 recently a dweller at Nevada City, intimating 
 
 [90]
 
 RUTH PROVES A TREASURE 
 
 to the lady that Mike was the manager and re- 
 sponsible party, and would arrange satisfactory 
 terms. His face broadened into a grin as he 
 walked off to find Tex and tell him of the prize 
 secured. 
 
 "Tex, she's a corker. I haven't had a chance 
 to speak a dozen words since we left the Tent. 
 She 's told me her history and her affairs from the 
 time she was a baby until her husband shook her 
 over on Deer Creek, basely deserted her without 
 cause, and left her alone and unprotected in this 
 wild country; not that she cares, except the time 
 wasted on that heartless man. Watch how she is 
 rounding up Mike under the tree. I think she 
 is inquiring as to the moral habits of the camp; 
 she is dead set on a high standard." 
 
 It was evident that she was putting Mike 
 through a rigid investigation, and he was ejacu- 
 lating regularly, "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," 
 with bewildering frequency. That was as far as 
 he got in that particular interview, which ended 
 by her being escorted to the cabin, into which 
 she disappeared. 
 
 "Holy Smoke 1" cried Mike, as he joined the 
 laughing twain, "did ye hear her? It is a soci- 
 able woman she is, and she '11 take charge of the 
 
 [91]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 camp if our characters are sich as a lone widdy 
 can approve. She wants a stove, curtains to 
 the windy, a bed, and the cabin to herself, which 
 av coorse is proper ; and fifty dollars a week and 
 her kape, a man to help pale the potatoes and 
 do the chores, the respect due her sex, and 'Who 's 
 that f cine-looking man alongside of Ranee?' 
 that 's Tex she was maning and c Have ye seen 
 go by on the trail a round-shouldered, bald- 
 headed snipe with one tooth missing, a hangdog- 
 looking feller that has lately desarted an affec- 
 tionate wife ? ' ; ' and Mike paused for breath, 
 adding, "And if I ever do mate that man he has 
 me pity, and it 's a wurrd of sympathy he '11 get. 
 Tex, what is it about ye that attracts lonely 
 wimmen? Sure, she has her eyes on ye, and I 'm 
 thinking it's many a chore you'll do for her if 
 she stays wid us." 
 
 Tex grinned at the banter and declared him- 
 self proof against the wiles and fascinations of 
 women. He was introduced to the lady later; 
 and just before sundown Ranee nudged Mike 
 and called his attention to Tex wielding an axe, 
 splitting firewood, and bringing water from the 
 spring, Mrs. Ruth brightening his task by vol- 
 uble and approving conversation. It may be 
 
 [92]
 
 RUTH PROVES A TREASURE 
 
 added that from that time forward he was her 
 willing slave, and that Ruth assumed the attitude 
 toward him of a mother hen to one chick. 
 
 She was really a treasure, a nervous, energetic 
 little body who had Yankee cooking at her finger 
 ends, from pie to pork and molasses, and the 
 boarding-house became famed for the toothsome 
 and substantial fare served to the men. This 
 was no small advantage in the operation of the 
 mine, as with comfortable quarters and bountiful 
 appetizing food, a better class of labor could be 
 secured and kept than if conditions had been 
 different. In a couple of weeks operations were 
 in full swing. A roomy boarding-house was 
 completed, with private room attached for the 
 occupancy of Mrs. Ruth, bunk-houses built to 
 accommodate forty men, to which number the 
 force had been increased, tools and supplies pro- 
 cured, and the camp settled down to an industri- 
 ous and prosperous career. Its picturesqueness 
 was somewhat added to by a company of 
 Indians, squaws, bucks, and papooses, a dozen 
 in count, who, camping on the outskirts, managed 
 to live from the refuse of the camp, supplemented 
 by spasmodic hunting by the males, who were 
 also suspected of sluice-robbing in outlying ra- 
 
 [93]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 vines. Mrs. Ruth pressed into service a couple 
 of the squaws, by their aid undertaking the 
 week's washing for the camp, which not only in- 
 cluded the ordinary woollen shirt for everyday 
 wear, but a "biled" article for Sunday. By 
 dividing the income from this source with her 
 dusky aids, she managed to hold them to a 
 spasmodic service, their only criticism on current 
 affairs being, "Waugy woman, she heap talk." 
 
 The mine, the mainspring of all this activity, 
 met and exceeded the partners' most sanguine 
 anticipations. The working force was divided 
 into day and night gangs of a dozen each; four 
 men were employed in cutting and rolling tim- 
 bers and poles to the mine; the mysteries of 
 breasting and excavating the width of the chan- 
 nel solved; and the golden stream yielded up its 
 treasure in a volume most satisfactory to the 
 company. The daily clean-up averaged about 
 a thousand dollars, and the total expense not 
 over three hundred. Mike was in his glory as 
 a boss and most popular in that role, for he was 
 tactful, good-humored, and had a knack of get- 
 ting the best out of his employees. He super- 
 vised the inside operations, looked after the clean- 
 up, and exercised a general supervision; while 
 
 [94]
 
 RUTH PROVES A TREASURE 
 
 to Tex was allotted the care of operations dur- 
 ing the night. The most vigilant attention to 
 affairs was required, as the gold was coarse, the 
 temptation to abstract a nugget 'almost irresist- 
 ible; and despite the strictest precautions no 
 doubt existed that a percentage of the finds did 
 not reach the owners. 
 
 The widow had fairly fascinated the impres- 
 sible Tex, and his afternoons were spent in her 
 company. His Texas war and border adventures 
 exorcised her garrulity and charmed her into an 
 occasional silence; like Desdemona, she listened 
 to his story and swore, 
 
 "In faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange, 
 'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful," 
 
 as she lamented secretly that Heaven had not 
 given her such a husband as this instead of 
 the mean-spirited, meek absconder, whose only 
 exhibition of independence had been to pluck up 
 the courage to desert her and heartlessly leave 
 her alone and unprotected in the midst of a law- 
 less community. 
 
 Life in the camp dropped into a rut of con- 
 tinued prosperity, with no interruption to the 
 idyllic conditions; in this hive of industry Ranee 
 was the only idler. It had been his intention, 
 
 [95]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 when the winter's work was over and the several 
 partners' interests in the results settled, to go 
 to San Francisco for a prolonged and perhaps 
 permanent stay. The absurdity of his occupa- 
 tion as cook, in contrast with the life he had led 
 on the Mississippi plantation and at college, was 
 so utterly at variance with his preconceived ideas 
 of a career, that at times his soul revolted, and 
 only by the exercise of a strong will had he been 
 prevented from quitting the job and departing 
 for the lowlands. However, he had reasoned 
 that by holding on the spring would find him 
 with a fair competence, enough at least to live 
 like a gentleman until a more congenial avenue 
 opened up; and it was this anticipation that had 
 given him the requisite patience. Now, all this 
 was changed. Ruth sniffed when he invaded her 
 kitchen and refused to believe that he had been 
 a success in the culinary department. 
 
 "Dear me, what messes you must have made, 
 and how your partners must have suffered ! It 's 
 a wonder to me you didn't poison 'em," com- 
 mented the bustling little body. "You needn't 
 tell me, I know you did not wash a dish nor 
 scour a pot all winter. I had to soak 'em all in 
 lye before they were fit to use. Men cooks ! Men 
 
 [96]
 
 RUTH PROVES A TREASURE 
 
 ain't made to cook, nor ain't good for much else 
 that I can see, except outdoor work. I despise 
 to have 'em around." 
 
 To all of which Ranee listened complacently, 
 for he knew that despite the fact that it was ten 
 o'clock and long past breakfast time, Ruth had 
 kept the coffee warm, and that he would be pro- 
 vided with a cup of that beverage, hot and 
 fragrant, together with a crisp biscuit, and a dis- 
 sertation on his utter shiftlessness and inconsid- 
 erateness in interrupting the busy preparations 
 for dinner. 
 
 "You are about as lazy and good-for-nothing 
 as my Ithuriel Abner Sage, and goodness knows 
 he didn't deserve to have as good a wife as I 
 was to him. Why don't you take pattern after 
 Mr. Texas, who works all night in that horrid 
 wet tunnel? He don't come around at all hours, 
 tracking up my kitchen." 
 
 [97]
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 RANGE MAKES SOME NEW FRIENDS 
 
 T) ANCE was polite enough to allow Mrs. 
 Ruth liberty of speech, for notwithstanding 
 her lecture she liked him and his ways and 
 looked after his comfort as assiduously as if 
 he was the most industrious bee in the hive, 
 or rather as a privileged drone, exempt from 
 toil. He could hardly explain to himself 
 why he lingered, a mere looker-on in the busy 
 camp, unless because he could idle and loaf 
 without any compunction of conscience and 
 enjoy the charm of the mountains. The absence 
 of the trammels of civilization, the irresponsi- 
 bility of it all, appealed to him. If he tired 
 of The City of Six, he had but to saddle his 
 horse and ride away over the 'ridge to any one 
 of a half-dozen bustling, thriving mining towns, 
 where many experiences were to be had, where 
 life was keyed up to the highest pitch of excite- 
 ment, where Fortune distributed her favors with 
 lavish profusion, where the passions of men ran 
 riot, and where, free from Puritanical prejudices 
 
 [98]
 
 RANGE MAKES NEW FRIENDS 
 
 and galling conventionalities, humanity exulted 
 in its freedom and celebrated its liberty in ex- 
 travagancies of action that in later staid and 
 sober times became traditions, the veracity of 
 which is doubtfully admitted. 
 
 In this, Ranee was more of an on-looker than 
 participant. The rude amusements of the times 
 did not appeal to him so much as the odd char- 
 acters that he met; and in his wanderings he 
 struck up a few friendships. Singularly, the 
 most intimate for a time was with the man who 
 was recognized as the boss gambler of the region. 
 In the heterogeneous elements that were thrown 
 together in the fifties, and in a society that in its 
 standards upset all previously conceived ideas, 
 the high-toned sporting man easily led all classes 
 in commanding and receiving the homage of a 
 majority of the community. This does not imply 
 that all gamblers were respected; on the con- 
 trary, toleration described the attitude, for as a 
 class they were outside the pale. There were 
 the "bad men," the desperadoes, who in drunken 
 frenzy proclaimed themselves as "chiefs" and 
 ran amuck among their fellows, until the thrust 
 of a knife or a well-aimed bullet laid them low. 
 The slayers were seldom punished ; it was usually 
 
 [89]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 a case of self-defence ; their loss was a gain, and 
 so regarded outside their own circle. Hundreds 
 of these characters flourished for a brief time, 
 glorying in the unenviable reputation of killers 
 of men, drunk with a bastard courage that must 
 be publicly proclaimed with insistent repetition 
 in order to sustain it, heroes among their kind 
 for the coolness displayed in their bloody en- 
 counters, until they were gradually exterminated, 
 or, the fallen fortunes of the camp diminishing 
 the number of their admirers, emigrated to fresh 
 fields east of the Sierras. 
 
 Then there were the crooked sports still lower 
 down in the scale, those who conducted "brace" 
 faro games, "rang in cold decks" in a poker 
 game, cogged the dice, or tampered with the 
 roulette wheel. While they reaped a big harvest, 
 yet they were despised and outlawed, occupying 
 about the same position in public estimation as 
 the highwayman who robbed on the trails and 
 squandered his plunder in the gaming-houses. 
 Lowest of all were the riff-raff, the hangers-on, 
 who managed to exist from the chance crumbs 
 that fell in their way, appropriating others' bets, 
 robbing drunken miners, and, when driven to it, 
 stealing out into the night and under cover of the 
 
 [100]
 
 RANGE MAKES NEW FRIENDS 
 
 darkness cleaning up the sluices in the creeks and 
 gulches. They were execrated and detested, and, 
 when caught, were in some cases hung, and in 
 others publicly flogged and banished. 
 
 Yet as each camp had its "chief," so it had its 
 leading professional, and no man stood higher 
 than Ranee's new-found friend. He associated 
 on an equality with the judge, the lawyers, the 
 merchant; he projected into his avocation cool 
 judgment, mathematical calculation of the per- 
 centage in his favor, a rigid honesty in his busi- 
 ness (a suspicion of unfairness would at once 
 tumble him from his pedestal), nerve that never 
 failed him on the most trying occasion, and a 
 creed summed up tersely by his acquaintances, 
 " His word is as good as a bond." That was his 
 capital and his religion, for if by a chance run 
 of bad luck his game went broke, the resources 
 of the town were at his call, the banker and the 
 merchant gladly extended the needed replenish- 
 ment of coin and the game went on despite the 
 vicissitudes of fortune. In truth, there was no 
 risk, for in the long run the legitimate percentage 
 in favor of the bank never failed to recoup tem- 
 porary losses. In fact, there was no such thing 
 as luck in the business so long as there were suffi- 
 
 [101]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 cient funds to meet incidental fluctuations ; it was 
 only when the professionals grew reckless, and, 
 tiring of the monotony of their legitimate pur- 
 suit, indulged in speculative forays against rival 
 games that they came to pecuniary grief. They 
 were distinguished by another characteristic, the 
 neatness of their personal attire. In the fifties, 
 black broadcloth was de rigueur frock coat, 
 low-cut vest, neat-fitting trousers, a tight high- 
 heel boot, and a stiff hat of ample brim and crown. 
 This latter was known as a "Peruvian som- 
 brero," in color a terra-cotta shade, a ponderous, 
 uncomfortable headgear affected by the gambler 
 and the old-time stage-driver. They were im- 
 maculate also as to shirt front, which, with high 
 old-fashioned collar and flowing black necktie, 
 relieved somewhat the stiffness of the attire 
 "biled shirts," the miners ironically called them. 
 In the Southern counties the polished bosoms 
 were replaced by the elaborately ruffled shirt 
 fronts and cuffs worn by the elderly, staid, and 
 dignified Southerners. The latter were lovable 
 old fellows who practised a little law, played a 
 little "brag" (a Southern game that antedated 
 and rivalled poker in the South, but is now obso- 
 lete and forgotten), ran for office, carried a 
 
 [102]
 
 RANGE MAKES NEW FRIENDS 
 
 crooked-handled cane that could be hung on the 
 arm when necessary, and drank deep and often. 
 They were fierce politicians who glorified Cal- 
 houn and despised the Northern "mudsill," yet 
 did not carry contempt so far as to refuse a casual 
 invitation to drink extended by the hated Yankee. 
 Poor old boys, they often degenerated into shabby 
 barnacles and sank into paupers' graves. 
 
 Ranee in his wanderings crossed the middle 
 fork of the Yuba and climbed the steep trail that 
 followed the bends of Bloody Run, arriving at 
 Moore's Flat, a camp on the slope of the ridge. 
 Here were gathered a couple of thousand men 
 miners, gamblers, Greasers, merchants, and pub- 
 licans, Jew, Gentile, and aboriginal, a half-dozen 
 females who were respectable, and a half -hundred 
 who had no claim to that distinction. It was a 
 motley mass of fortune-seekers, strung up to 
 concert pitch by the fabulous yield of the recently 
 discovered ancient channels in the vicinity, the 
 majority toiling by day and roistering by night, 
 gathering rich returns for their labor and throw- 
 ing their gains to the winds an eager, restless 
 lot whose philosophy coincided with that of the 
 Horatian creed: "To-morrow do thy worst, for 
 I have lived to-day." 
 
 [103]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Lounging on the hotel porch one morning, 
 looking up and down the one main straggling 
 street, which was deserted except for a few loaf- 
 ers who loitered around the saloon doors, Ranee 
 noted a group of roughs busily engaged, as he 
 supposed, petting a dog. He was quickly un- 
 deceived as to their kindly intentions when, loos- 
 ing the poor cur, it came dashing down the street 
 in an agony of terror, a fright caused by the 
 attachment of a tin can to its tail. Scared into 
 a frenzy by the rattling, bounding appendage, 
 the animal ran along the thoroughfare, turned, 
 dashed back again, and, utterly spent, took ref- 
 uge under the steps leading up to the porch of 
 the inn. Ranee, who had watched the perform- 
 ance, viewed with disgust the loafers who had 
 perpetrated it. Pitying the frightened beast, he 
 at once went to its rescue and, with difficulty 
 coaxing it from its hiding-place, he whipped out 
 his pocket-knife and cut away the rope. He had 
 barely completed his charitable action when half 
 a dozen of the fellows drew near, one of them 
 demanding what he meant by interfering with 
 their pastime, at the same time attempting to 
 seize the frightened dog. Ranee's temper was up, 
 and oblivious of any risk, he warned them to 
 
 [104]
 
 RANGE MAKES NEW FRIENDS 
 
 keep their hands off, at the same time using some 
 vigorous and forcible language in denouncing 
 their so-called sport. There was every chance 
 for a nasty row, as numbers gave them courage ; 
 and with ugly demeanor and characteristic clutch 
 of pistol hand to side pocket they were on the 
 brink of precipitating an attack, hesitating for 
 a moment as Ranee drew his six-shooter, when a 
 commanding voice sang out: "Vamos, you dirty 
 loafers!" They seemed to recognize the author- 
 ity of the speaker, for with one accord they 
 slunk away to their retreats, leaving Ranee and 
 the dog to their own devices. Ranee turned to 
 see who had wrought this sudden change in the 
 intentions of his assailants and noted, leaning 
 lazily against an upholding post of the porch, a 
 man some thirty-odd years of age, a tall, well- 
 knit figure clad in the conventional black affected 
 by the devotees of fortune evidently one of 
 those gentlemen of leisure who, ostensibly con- 
 ducting games of chance, were really exponents 
 of certainties, in short, a faro banker, and as it 
 happened, the leading one of the region round- 
 about. There was a look out of a pair of gray 
 eyes that seemed capable of gazing at the sun 
 without wavering, a square-set chin, and a face 
 
 [105]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 pallid, almost bloodless and emotionless. The 
 pallor was due doubtless to the long night ses- 
 sions in the crowded gaming-house, the sunless, 
 ill-ventilated precincts of which were not calcu- 
 lated to tinge the cheek of its habitue with health- 
 ful color. Looking lazily at the retreating crowd 
 and then glancing at Ranee, he said, 
 
 "I beg your pardon for interfering. The 
 chances are the coyotes would not have jumped 
 you, but they might ; I hope you will not take it 
 as discourteous." 
 
 "They not only might, but they surely would," 
 retorted Ranee, "but I could not stand by and 
 see a poor dog persecuted." 
 
 He smiled at the stranger and then at the ani- 
 mal, which with that intuition that is given to 
 dogs, recognized in his rescuer a friend, and with 
 violent wagging of tail and contortions of body 
 was doing his best to demonstrate that he under- 
 stood and was thankful for the obligations he had 
 been placed under. He was not a bad-looking 
 dog by any means, evidently a stray from some 
 other camp, abashed by his unfriendly reception 
 and only wanting a pat on the head and a kind 
 word to restore his self-esteem, and ready to 
 attach himself to Ranee at an encouraging word. 
 
 [106]
 
 RANGE MAKES NEW FRIENDS 
 
 "Risk or no risk, it was the act of a good fel- 
 low and I would like to shake hands with you; 
 I 'm Phillips, Brant Phillips," with a barely per- 
 ceptible smile extending his hand. 
 
 Ranee took the offered member, white and deli- 
 cate, but the grasp proved to be a nervous, 
 powerful clasp that made Ranee's fingers tingle. 
 The two men looked in each other's eyes, glances 
 that measured the depths, and were at once in 
 accord. 
 
 "I might ask you in to take a drink," said 
 Phillips, "but really I am the only temperance 
 man in the town. Drinking interferes with my 
 business, but I can offer you a good cigar," draw- 
 ing a case from his pocket and proffering an 
 imported weed, which Ranee accepted. 
 
 Drawing together two armchairs, they sat 
 them down, the dog between, and were soon deep 
 in mutual confidences; or rather, the impulsive 
 Ranee told of his wanderings, adventures, and 
 fortunes, his companion, with occasional com- 
 ment lending a sympathetic ear. When Ranee 
 alluded to his determination at one time to be- 
 come a professional card-player and his turning 
 cook instead, Phillips congratulated him on his 
 choice. 
 
 [107]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "Don't do it," he commented; "I suppose I 
 am the loneliest man on the ridge, forced to as- 
 sociate with a lot of hounds who are only fit to 
 people hell, or foolish miners who have not got 
 sense enough to know they have no chance 
 against the game; ostracized justly by the decent 
 element, and degraded by the company of the 
 rest. If I did not know that I would abandon 
 it after a while, and that I follow it because to 
 me it is the shortest road to independence, I 
 would walk down into the ravine and put a bullet 
 through my heart." 
 
 Ranee wondered at the vehemence and bitter- 
 ness of his companion's remarks, and dropping 
 the subject, wandered into more congenial topics. 
 Supping together, a meal in which the dog was 
 a bountiful participant, they parted with a prom- 
 ise of another meeting, and Ranee saddled his 
 horse and took the trail for home, the moon light- 
 ing up the path and the forest a lonely ride, 
 but not alone. The grateful dog had found his 
 master, and The City of Six became his abiding- 
 place. 
 
 [108]
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 MIKE IS A MODEL MINE-MANAGER 
 
 TV/TIKE, who, except by Ranee and Tex, was 
 called Mr. Donovan, had by his energy 
 transformed the plateau at the head of Slug 
 Canyon into a model mining camp. Work was 
 carried on inside the mine in a systematic way 
 as he became more familiar with the require- 
 ments; the science of timbering, capping, and 
 breasting, and the necessity of taking out six or 
 eight feet thick and a hundred feet wide of pay 
 gravel, became less and less a problem. In a 
 stretch of fifteen miles, from The City of Six on 
 the north to Orleans Flat on the south, the chan- 
 nel of the old dead river had been traced and 
 opened where the canyons, creeks, and river had 
 cut through and below its old bed. At Forest 
 City, Chipp's Flat, Alleghany, Minnesota, and 
 Moore's Flat, busy and prosperous camps had 
 sprung up, dozens of companies were delving in 
 the old river bed, and the returns were enormous. 
 Intelligent and inventive brains directed opera- 
 
 [100]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tions, and an interchange of experience gave all 
 the benefit of the knowledge acquired. 
 
 Mike was in his element, carrying the respon- 
 sibility of manager and performing the duties 
 devolving upon him with an adaptability that was 
 at once a surprise and gratification to his associ- 
 ates. Those who in after years recalled the 
 masterly way in which he handled the company's 
 property and affairs saw in it the budding of a 
 career that a decade or so later made him the fore- 
 most mine-manager in the world, a man with a 
 grasp of affairs, an intuition as to probabilities 
 and values, that rewarded him in the end with 
 wealth almost beyond the dream of avarice. In 
 his old age and he was generous, big-hearted 
 Mike to the last he was fond of recurring to 
 The City of Six and its memories and insisting 
 that in the light of the meagre knowledge existing 
 at that time, the problems were more formidable, 
 the apparent obstacles more serious to overcome, 
 and the conquering of them more of an achieve- 
 ment, than when later he bore on his shoulders 
 the burden of the development and operation of 
 the greatest mine and lode the world had ever 
 seen. And he would add with a sigh, that those 
 were the happy days, when it began to dawn upon 
 
 [no]
 
 A MODEL MINE-MANAGER 
 
 him that wealth was power, and when riches had 
 not become a burden. 
 
 Not so with Tex; ambition did not stir nor 
 greed oppress him. To be sure he was rapidly 
 becoming a rich man, and he sometimes wondered 
 what he would do with all his money. Mining 
 of itself had little attraction for him, and if he 
 had any day-dreams it was the conjuring up of 
 visions of the grassy plains of Texas, with herds 
 of cattle grazing over a vast area and himself 
 as the lazy lord and proprietor of the range. The 
 vision was too intangible to take definite shape 
 in his brain, and a sharp word from Ruth recalled 
 him to realities. Insensibly that energetic little 
 woman dominated Tex and his affairs without 
 remonstrance from him. He had no inclination 
 to protest, as it was a most novel and agreeable 
 situation. Women had played but small part in 
 his life, and good women none. In the border 
 days, down on the Rio Grande, and afterward 
 with the army in Mexico, a brown face and a 
 pair of flashing black eyes had stirred his passion ; 
 but in those strenuous times he had not lingered 
 long enough to form any serious attachment, and 
 in California the absence of the sex had not been 
 a deprivation; but Ruth was a revelation, a dif- 
 
 [in]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ferent species from what he had previously met. 
 Her sharp tongue stirred his mental processes; 
 her fluent speech, even when going over a cate- 
 gory of his deficiencies, was not unpleasant, nor 
 did he resent her quasi assumption of authority 
 over him. 
 
 " Sakes, you are the most shiftless man I ever 
 met," she exhorted, "loafing around here on the 
 Lord's Day in your weekday duds, and a white 
 shirt ready to put on. I'm not going to work 
 my fingers to the bone, washing and ironing, 
 sending for starch clear to Sacramento, and you 
 and the rest of 'em too lazy to spruce up and 
 look decent." 
 
 "Who wants to put on a biled shirt?" retorted 
 Tex, hastening to add apologetically, " Of course, 
 Mrs. Ruth, I don't mind, but the men are growl- 
 ing and swearing that they don't hire out to dress 
 like gamblers of a Sunday." 
 
 "Better look like gamblers than pigs," she 
 snorted. "Mercy, where did they come from, and 
 what sort of a bringing up did they have? Of 
 course, it 's none of my business, and Mr. Don- 
 ovan is a little uppish because I try to have the 
 camp decent ; well, if you don't like it get another 
 boarding-house keeper I'm sure, if I can't 
 
 [112]
 
 A MODEL MINE-MANAGER 
 
 have proper respect shown me, I don't want to 
 stay." 
 
 "Bern it all," replied Tex, to whose mind came 
 an unusual pang at the thought of Ruth's pos- 
 sible leaving, "we'll wear biled shirts to sleep in, 
 if that will please you ; but you want to look out 
 for that box of starch, if the men find out 
 where you keep it, it will disappear," and he 
 chuckled as he recalled incipient plots that had 
 for their object the abstraction and destruction 
 of that despised accessory to torture. 
 
 Ruth had as little intention of going away as 
 Mike of dispensing with her services. She was 
 invaluable in her department; and while some 
 of the more sensitive winced at her cutting re- 
 marks and entertained rebellious thoughts, after 
 all there was no table so bountifully supplied with 
 appetizing and daintily cooked food in all that 
 region roundabout, and the appeal to their stom- 
 achs was persuasive and irresistible. 
 
 Her liking and open preference for Tex was 
 too plainly indicated to be ignored, although 
 there was no breath of scandal in it. 
 
 "I wonder how she is going to fix it; she'll 
 sure get a divorce, and Tex is the widow's meat," 
 commented one of the boarders. 
 
 [113]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "Well, why not?" replied another. "If I had 
 a wife who could cook like the widow, she could 
 nag from hell to breakfast; I'd stand for it if 
 for nothing else than them doughnuts and pud- 
 ding wot she gives us for Sunday dinner." 
 
 "Yes, her grub is a set-off, for a fact ; but her 
 hubby couldn't stand it he skipped." 
 
 This mild sort of gossip, even if it came to 
 their ears, did not disturb Ruth or Tex. Truth 
 was they had come to an understanding. The 
 widow was to ask for a legal separation at the 
 next term of court there was no doubt of its 
 being granted, and in the fall they would join 
 hands and fortunes. Tex, like Barkis, was will- 
 ing and happy in the prospect, and left the mat- 
 ter entirely with Ruth. 
 
 It may be added that in after years, when the 
 cattle ranch from a dream became a reality, 
 although the Coast Range was its location instead 
 of the Lone Star State, Tex never regretted 
 having been led into captivity by the little widow, 
 nor did he resent her oft-iterated statement that 
 she had made a man of him. If the domestic 
 atmosphere became clouded and Ruth fretted and 
 fumed over his shortcomings, there was a stout 
 
 [114]
 
 A MODEL MINE-MANAGER 
 
 mustang to ride, a thousand cattle to look after, 
 and a dash over the ranch dispelled any little 
 annoyance arising from his wife's ill temper, 
 "The little woman does n't mean anything, it's 
 just her nature." 
 
 [115]
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 BANCE'S GAMBLING FRIEND VISITS THE CAMP 
 
 "1TITHEN Ranee returned with his newly ac- 
 quired follower, the rescued dog, he found 
 awaiting him a letter from Wakefield, which 
 brought the information of the latter's intention 
 of returning to California before the close of the 
 summer. He had found his wife in failing health, 
 afflicted with a pulmonary trouble, and the phy- 
 sicians had advised her that a journey to a milder 
 climate was the only hope of a cure. The 
 daughter, he wrote, had grown to be almost a 
 young woman, had graduated from the village 
 academy, and was wild over the prospect of a 
 trip to the Far West. It was fable land to the 
 slow-witted plodders of her birthplace, and her 
 girl associates feigned a pity that was nearer 
 envy, that she should be condemned to exile in a 
 barbarous, and, if the tales told were true, mon- 
 strously uncivilized and irreligious land. Wake- 
 field requested that a suitable shelter be provided 
 for his little family, as he was convinced that the 
 pure mountain air and the healing winds through 
 
 [116]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 the pines were the medicine his helpmeet needed, 
 and he appealed to his comrade to make it as 
 comfortable as possible. 
 
 Here was a congenial occupation for Ranee, 
 and with the hearty co-operation of Mike and 
 Tex, he at once set about building a nest. Ruth 
 sniffed over this prospective invasion by an in- 
 valid, and declared that she would not wait on 
 her; then she belied her words by feminine sug- 
 gestions of indispensable furnishings of a variety 
 and kind that had not occurred to the untutored 
 minds of her male friends. 
 
 In the prosperity of the camp, Ruth had be- 
 come more of a directress than a worker. A 
 wandering Chinaman, tired of the rude buffet- 
 ings and inhospitable treatment of white men, 
 had become her chief aid, and was by her initiated 
 into the mysteries of the culinary art. 
 
 "She belly good woman, she talkee, talkee, 
 talkee, allee same to me," commented Tong. 
 "She no letee Melican man foolee, me get 
 bundled dollah month; bime-by allee same cook 
 like Missy Luth, get two bundled dollah, suppose 
 all time talkee me stay." 
 
 The squaws had also found life fairly attract- 
 ive at the camp, and although they had a discon- 
 
 [117]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 certing way of wandering off when Ruth became 
 too strenuous in her role, the bucks, who pre- 
 ferred the crumbs and leavings of the boarding- 
 house to an acorn diet, rounded them up and 
 drove them back to their tasks. "Lo the poor 
 Indian" was too lazy or too proud to lend a 
 hand, although finding it most congenial to live 
 upon the increment of his squaw's labors, and 
 he was inclined to strictly enforce a domestic 
 discipline that provided a substitute for the 
 hitherto necessary annual grasshopper and pine- 
 nut harvest. 
 
 A site for the house was selected in a secluded 
 portion of the plateau away from the mine and 
 the cluster of habitations around it, a nook close 
 under the ridge and in the midst of a group of 
 lofty pines. Much more care was bestowed on 
 the structure than had been given to the con- 
 struction of the other cabins. The logs of which it 
 was built were squared and jointed; a real board 
 floor was laid from planks packed with infinite 
 trouble and difficulty from a sawmill a dozen 
 miles away; double sash windows and panelled 
 doors, hitherto unknown outside of the county 
 town, added a touch of elegance and modernity; 
 and the camp carpenter exhausted his skill and 
 
 [118]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 invention in handy shelves and closets, the latter 
 by direct intervention of Ruth, who declared 
 that one of her most acute trials had been the lack 
 of this necessary provision for comfort in the 
 rude dwellings in which she had been forced to 
 abide. The house completed, there came the 
 furnishing, and here Ruth was again indispen- 
 sable. After many long and serious consulta- 
 tions, she was finally despatched to Sacramento 
 with a carte blanche to buy and forward by mule 
 team a long list of furniture and furnishings, an 
 errand that she accomplished with celerity and 
 excellent judgment. These were in due time 
 delivered at the terminus of the wagon road, some 
 ten miles distant down the ridge, and from that 
 point packed in by mule train and safely housed. 
 When finished, it was really a most comfortable 
 and attractive dwelling. Ruth added the ulti- 
 mate touches in the way of upholstery and adorn- 
 ment, such as snow-white counterpane and ruffled 
 pillowcases on the bed, a cushion in the one rock- 
 ing-chair thoughtfully provided for the invalid, 
 and a doormat which she insisted should be used 
 before the slovenly and careless male was granted 
 admittance. Mike pronounced it fit for an Irish 
 king, and even Ranee was impressed by the un- 
 
 [119]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 wonted luxury and felt that in his mode of living 
 he was sacrificing to his pagan love of nature's 
 beauties the real comforts of life. 
 
 Perhaps it was this sense of loss that, when 
 there came another letter from Wakefield an- 
 nouncing the exact date of his departure, it not 
 only reconciled but made him eager for a journey 
 to San Francisco to meet and welcome back his 
 partner and family; and while a month would 
 elapse before their arrival he felt that meanwhile 
 he deserved and could enjoy the distractions and 
 dissipations of a visit to the city. 
 
 Incidentally, during the time occupied in the 
 building of the new house, he had ridden over to 
 Moore's Flat, renewed his acquaintance with his 
 sporting friend, and induced that busy man to 
 abandon for a day or more his avocation (there 
 were trusted lieutenants who could be depended 
 upon for carrying on the games) and accept the 
 hospitalities of The City of Six. Brant enjoyed 
 more than he cared to tell this surcease from his 
 predatory occupation. Here was a spot where 
 the dissipated miner, the camp loafer, and the 
 unsexed women were not, an ideal retreat from 
 which was absent the glaring vulgarity and 
 
 [120]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 flaunting barbarism of the ridge towns, a little 
 community that was singular in its orderliness. 
 
 Mike, who was an absolute dictator in his 
 realm, had resisted an invasion of the whiskey- 
 seller and the followers in his wake, had dis- 
 couraged and weeded out the drunken and im- 
 provident worker, and by reason of high wages 
 and good fare had gathered around him a su- 
 perior force of temperate men. They were by no 
 means saints, but they were above the average, 
 and after a time came to have an honest pride in 
 their little hamlet, a pride that when the restraints 
 became a trifle irksome and they sought relaxa- 
 tion and yielded to temptation when visiting 
 near-by camps, led them to boasting of the 
 superiority of their abiding-place. This so jarred 
 on the feelings of their neighbors that the visitors 
 were often compelled to uphold their vauntings 
 by force of arms, and many a rough and tumble 
 encounter resulted. It, however, was the proper 
 local pride as well as the taste of a strenuous 
 pleasure denied them in their own community. 
 
 Ranee as host exhausted the resources of the 
 place in entertaining his guest, and Ruth outdid 
 herself in seconding his efforts. This stranger
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 appealed to her forcibly. Here was a man who 
 wore a "biled shirt" and did not murmur at 
 what the rest regarded as a stiff and starched 
 horror, a yoke of misery and discomfort; a person 
 whose neat apparel was unwrinkled, who shaved 
 daily and flecked the dust from polished boots 
 to preserve their tidiness, and even wiped his 
 feet voluntarily on the doormat. Careless Tex 
 was so exhorted to take pattern after this im- 
 maculate example that the preaching became a 
 weariness to his soul. 
 
 Ranee and Brant became fairly friendly. It 
 was possibly the attractiveness of the unlike that 
 linked them in friendship. Brant was the elder 
 by several years, reserved, taciturn, and not 
 given to companionship or confidences; on the 
 contrary, Ranee wore his heart on his sleeve and 
 to a friend confided his hopes, disappointments, 
 ambitions, and failures freely and without much 
 reserve. Brant was cold, calculating, and of a 
 manner and carriage that invited no intimacies. 
 In his profession he walked apart from his fel- 
 lows, disdained their comradeship, despised their 
 vices, and stood aloof from the shady side of their 
 lives. 
 
 "There runs ice water in his veins," was the 
 
 [122]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 current comment on his attitude, and to some 
 extent the criticism was just, so far as the 
 exterior he presented to the undiscriminating. 
 After all, it was a mask cleverly worn, deliber- 
 ately assumed and used as a valuable asset. He 
 was a Marylander by birth, the scion of a prom- 
 inent family which at one time had owned broad 
 and fair acres, although when Brant became of 
 age the sheriff had transferred the title to aliens 
 and his patrimony dwindled to nothing. His fath- 
 er had, in old Washington society of "before the 
 war," dissipated his lands and fortune in an in- 
 stinctive and uncontrollable passion for gambling ; 
 and on the race course, in the social games of the 
 Southern element, and at the fascinating faro 
 banks had seen his last dollar disappear. Then, 
 rather than become a hanger-on, he wisely ended 
 his career by a bullet through his brain, leaving 
 Brant, his only child, to make his own way as 
 best he might. Luckily, he had given the boy 
 the advantage of tutor and college. If Brant 
 inherited the taint and the gambling passion was 
 in his blood, he had no means of gratifying it, 
 as he was penniless; and the disgrace of his 
 father's taking off and his known impecunious 
 condition alienated his few friends. Ostracized 
 
 [123]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 and desperate he deliberately resolved to adopt 
 the career that had proved his father's ruin, with 
 the difference that he would prey instead of being 
 preyed upon. He studied closely all games of 
 chance, the mathematical odds in favor of the 
 bank, the invariable law of percentages to count 
 on, and in social games he practised that close 
 observation of human nature that notes and takes 
 advantage of temperamental betrayal of emo- 
 tions. The study became so absorbing and so 
 successful that from the subordinate place of 
 dealer he had in a few years become a capitalist 
 and proprietor. In the pursuit he had had the 
 satisfaction of plucking many of those who had 
 fleeced his father, but his pride was hurt. As a 
 gentleman's son he had held his head as high as 
 the best; as a professional gambler he was an 
 outcast, and although showing no outward signs, 
 he suffered deeply in spirit. 
 
 It was this feeling that impelled him, when the 
 discovery of gold in California opened a new 
 field, to desert his old haunts and with ample 
 capital start anew in a country where people 
 were too busy or too indifferent to bother them- 
 selves about his past. Deep in his breast he had 
 cherished the plan of at some future day redeem- 
 
 [124]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 ing the old acres from strangers' hands, and in 
 his own right taking the place among the gentry 
 that his father's weakness had deprived him of. 
 He had prospered beyond his most sanguine 
 hopes, was rich as riches counted in that era, 
 although at a cost. His contact with the baser 
 sort had bred in him a contempt for humanity, 
 he doubted the existence of good men, and the 
 existence of good women had faded from his 
 memory. Ranee's intervention in favor of the 
 persecuted dog was the first decent action that 
 had come under his observation for years; its 
 disinterestedness, when it meant peril to the 
 intervener, forced admiration; and when in the 
 ensuing lounge on the porch of the hotel Ranee 
 confidingly laid bare his history, his heart 
 yearned for such a friend. By birth and educa- 
 tion they were equal. Ranee confessed how near, 
 when deserted by his slaves, he had come to 
 adopting a like career; this and the strength of 
 character that had enabled him to brave ridicule 
 in his occupation as cook appealed to the cynic 
 and led him to welcome the tentative advances 
 of his would-be comrade. In fact, as the com- 
 panionship grew closer, he felt that Ranee was on 
 a plane above him. There was dignity in his 
 
 [125]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 position as mine-owner and stockholder in a pros- 
 perous corporation, the abundant riches in which 
 he shared came from the earth, its accumulation 
 did no man wrong, and while Brant rejoiced in 
 his friend's prosperity, he envied its source and 
 grew more and more dissatisfied with his own 
 position and associations. 
 
 Charmed with the unwonted quiet and peace- 
 fulness of the retreat, in such marked contrast 
 with the turmoil of its neighbors, Brant lingered 
 day after day neglectful of his interests and 
 content to pay any price for the relaxation. Even 
 Ruth, who as a rule set the nerves of most men 
 on edge, had a fascination for him, and he was 
 surprised to find himself in a strangely senti- 
 mental mood when he was told of the budding 
 romance in which Tex was the hero and she the 
 heroine. He had lived so long in a sordid half- 
 world that this phase came as a revelation. He 
 gave eager attention to the brief and unexciting 
 history of the camp, thrilled over the recital of 
 the discovery of the big nugget, sympathized 
 with Wakefield's awakened literary instincts and 
 his absorption in Shakespearean dramas, gave 
 a rapt ear to the tales of the border as retold 
 By Tex, and above all, paid homage to the ruling 
 
 [126]
 
 RANGE'S GAMBLING FRIEND 
 
 spirit of the place, the masterful Mike, whom 
 he recognized as a man among men. 
 
 "Upon my word, I would not have believed 
 it," he finally confided 1 to Ranee. "Here's a 
 place where the gin-mill and the Jew store are 
 not, where every one is working for a living and 
 contented in his work, and," a puzzled ex- 
 pression spread over his face "when I dropped 
 into the bunk-house after supper last night, a 
 dozen men were playing cards seven-up and 
 euchre, and it sort of relieved me to know that 
 there was one vice to leaven all this virtue. But 
 when I asked what were the stakes, as I 'm a sin- 
 ner they told me there were none ; they were play- 
 ing for the fun of it, keeping a nightly account of 
 games won and lost, merely to decide who were 
 the luckiest or more skilled. I must get out of 
 this; it is beginning to undermine my prin- 
 ciples." 
 
 "It's all Mike and his example," replied 
 Ranee; "you wouldn't believe, to watch him, 
 that a year ago he was an irresponsible devil- 
 may-care Irishman, who revelled in a drunken 
 debauch and was happiest when squandering his 
 money in a riotous spree. He had, however, a 
 level head and a will-power that, once resolved, 
 
 [127]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 wrought a complete transformation, and now he 
 is the mainspring of the whole place." 
 
 Brant pondered over the situation and took 
 deep counsel with himself. A first result of his 
 meditations was an intimation to Ranee that if 
 it would be agreeable he would accompany his 
 friend to San Francisco; that is, if Ranee would 
 postpone his departure for a couple of days, a 
 sufficient delay that would allow him to put his 
 affairs in such shape as to permit his absence. 
 Ranee cheerfully consented and at the expiration 
 of the time was joined by Brant, and the two, 
 well mounted and equipped, rode off down the 
 ridge bearing a welcoming message to Wakefield 
 and his family and a unanimously expressed wish 
 for their own speedy return. There was one dis- 
 senting voice, and it was loudly raised in protest. 
 The dog, who gave a devoted and unselfish alle- 
 giance to Ranee, and who since his rescue had 
 been a constant attendant and loyal slave of his 
 adopted master, tugged at the end of a rope that 
 deprived him of liberty, in an agony of anxiety 
 and fear, persuaded that he was being abandoned 
 by a loved friend; the echo of his wailing ex- 
 postulations was the last sound they heard as 
 they rode down the trail. 
 
 [128]
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WAKEFIELD AND HIS FAMILY ARRIVE 
 
 T T is hardly worth while following the ad- 
 ventures of the twain on their journey, or 
 during their sojourn in the city. Ranee, who 
 had dreamed of and projected this visit for 
 months, plunged into the distractions of the town 
 with a joyous abandon; but at the end of a 
 couple of weeks it began to pall on him. Every- 
 thing was at too high pressure. Under the 
 stimulus of the stream of gold that was poured 
 into the city it seethed with excitement. Steam- 
 ers were departing with those to whom fortune 
 had come, and steamers arriving with eager ad- 
 venturers from all lands, a hurly-burly of hu- 
 manity of all classes and all degrees, a jostling 
 tide that ebbed and flowed, inspired by the lust for 
 easily acquired riches. In this multitude, moved 
 only to the attainment of its own selfish interests, 
 the amenities of ordinary life disappeared, or if 
 practised, were hidden from view. There were 
 good men and a few good women, the beginnings 
 of home life and happy households, but to the 
 
 [129]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 casual observer they were not in evidence. 
 Rogues in office plundered the city at will and 
 almost without protest; the scum of all nations 
 found a harbor of refuge and ran riot in their 
 evil ways. Legitimate business was a gamble, 
 and gambling a legitimate pursuit; commodities 
 that brought fabulous prices for the day and re- 
 turned a thousand or more per cent profit, were 
 on the morrow drugs on the market. There 
 was no stable foundation to the mercantile struc- 
 ture. Over-receipts tumbled down prices; fre- 
 quent fires swept away stocks; fortunes melted, 
 and withal there was no confidence in the per- 
 manence of the place. Few had any faith in the 
 future, and this instability and doubt nerved all 
 to strain every effort to get rich quick and de- 
 part. It was not strange under the conditions 
 that the gambling spirit possessed the majority, 
 and this was stimulated by the one tangible 
 fact the flux and reflux of individual fortunes 
 had no bearing on or connection with the cause of 
 it all, the outpouring of the precious metal from 
 the foothill placers. There was no abatement to 
 the yield, and from a thousand sources it found 
 its way to the treasure vaults of the metropolis. 
 
 [130]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 For a time the conditions interested Ranee, 
 and he was pleased and content to swim with 
 the current. Shortly, however, he realized that 
 he was no part of it and doubted whether he 
 had any desire to be. The gentlemanly and 
 dignified leisure that seemed to him to be most 
 desirable would put one out of touch with the 
 situation. A constitutional idler was not in place 
 in this busy hive. To be sure, there was a clique 
 of Southern gentlemen who made headquarters 
 at the hotel where he and Brant stopped, a chiv- 
 alrous lot who disdained commercial pursuits, 
 looked to a benign and sympathetic federal ad- 
 ministration to provide them with fat berths, and 
 claimed an inherent right to all the offices. Ranee, 
 when it became known that he was of the elect, 
 was warmly welcomed to the circle, more heartily, 
 perhaps, when it was also understood that he 
 had no ambition to feed on the bounty of the 
 Government and was in easy circumstances. 
 
 "Met your father at the St. Charles in New 
 Orleans," confided one of these old parasites, 
 "and he was a gentleman, suh, whom I was proud 
 to know. Ah, it was young blood then, and I 
 fear we were a little gay; our purses were at 
 
 [131]
 
 each other's service, suh," and he glanced at 
 Ranee to note whether his old friend's son was 
 of the same metal. 
 
 It usually ended in a trifling loan, "a debt 
 of honah, suh," to be paid when salary day came 
 around. He was also welcomed to the private 
 poker game, a privilege to which no mere ple- 
 beian dare aspire; but here he held his own, and 
 the Judge, whose temporary embarrassment he 
 had relieved, was pleased to admit that the boy 
 handled the "keerds" so skilfully as to do credit 
 to his bringing up. 
 
 During this time his comrade had participated 
 with him in the current diversions, although in 
 a perfunctory way. His principal occupation 
 had been in looking over inviting investments; 
 some were safe, and others which included the 
 purchase of city real estate were, owing to the 
 difference of opinion as to its future, classed as 
 hazardous and uncertain. If when the gold pro- 
 duction was over there should remain no longer 
 any justification for the building up of a Pacific 
 Coast metropolis, and the country should return 
 to its old pastoral state, then the investment 
 would prove to be a poor one; if, on the other 
 hand, as the more sanguine predicted, the gold 
 
 [132]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 discovery was but the beginning of development, 
 and in due time a great empire should replace the 
 old conditions, then the investor would reap a 
 thousand fold ; and Brant was gambler enough to 
 take what was considered the odds. This con- 
 cluded, time hung heavy on his hands; he was 
 anxious to get back to the mountains, for he had 
 planned and secretly determined upon a radical 
 departure, one which meant a complete change 
 in his mode of living, pursuits which would 
 ring down the curtain so far as cards or games 
 were concerned and yet not eliminate the ele- 
 ment of chance. In fine, his visit to The City of 
 Six had persuaded him that in mining the risks 
 were no greater, the returns much larger; and 
 he had resolved to employ some of his capital in 
 that direction. 
 
 For this reason he was more than pleased when 
 Ranee one day intimated that city life had lost 
 its charm and expressed a wish that the Panama 
 steamer would arrive, and a return to the Sierras 
 be no longer delayed. Ranee had arranged 
 for suitable quarters at the hotel for the ex- 
 pected ones, and they both eagerly and impa- 
 tiently watched the semaphore on Telegraph Hill, 
 which heralded the announcement of the boat's 
 
 [133]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 appearance off the bar. When at last the 
 welcome signal was displayed, Ranee urged the 
 carriage driver to hasten down the sandy road 
 to the wharf. Here he paced up and down for 
 three hours before the boat made its tardy ap- 
 proach and docked, not heeding the fact that 
 hacks were in great demand on these occasions 
 and that he would be mulcted at the rate of ten 
 dollars per hour for the time consumed. A 
 thousand eager faces lined the rails, a throng 
 curious to catch a glimpse of El Dorado; and 
 in the rush for shore a half -hour elapsed before 
 he could gain the deck. At last he recognized 
 Wakefield among the waiting mass and made 
 his way to his partner's side. There was a warm 
 greeting, hasty inquiries as to the health and wel- 
 fare of his absent comrades, and then they made 
 their way to the cabin where the wife and daugh- 
 ter were waiting. 
 
 It is a subconscious habit the construction of 
 mental photographs of people talked about whom 
 we have not met and scenes described but yet un- 
 visited. During the long winter evenings on the 
 mountain Wakefield had dwelt lovingly on the 
 personality of his wife and little girl, and Ranee 
 had been a sympathetic listener. In his mind he 
 
 [134]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 had framed a picture of the twain which, taking 
 form and color from the rustic environment, 
 evoked a type of country beauty, the maturity 
 of a blooming, buxom village belle, growing fat 
 and frowzy with advancing years. The invalid- 
 ism of the wife had mentally changed and modi- 
 fied this creation into a querulous sick woman, 
 the victim of a harsh and depressing climate. 
 This for the wife; as for the daughter, he 
 anticipated meeting a round-faced, red-cheeked, 
 efflorescent hobbledehoy at the awkward age 
 that intervenes between the child and the woman, 
 lacking repose or refinement, except perhaps a 
 shyness bred of her unaccustomed contact with 
 the great world. 
 
 There was no justification for this pre judg- 
 ment beyond the unconscious impressions drawn 
 from Wakefield's references to his life in the 
 States and the natural mate that would be the 
 choice of a man of his robust physique and men- 
 tal limitations. It was but natural that a Hebe 
 would appeal to him in preference to a Psyche, 
 his ideal would be material rather than spiritual ; 
 at least thus reasoned Ranee if he gave any 
 thought to the subject. Then, he was prejudiced 
 to a degree and touched with the inherited con- 
 
 [135]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tempt of the South for anything north of Mason 
 and Dixon's Line; although his experience and 
 associations since he had departed from his 
 Southern home had taught him that his views 
 had been essentially narrow and false and he had 
 modified his opinions relative to those outside 
 the sacred lines of chivalry. 
 
 Judge of his surprise when, descending with 
 Wakefield to the cabin, he encountered one who 
 in no way resembled his forecast. Instead, he 
 was greeted by a woman neither pronounced, 
 embarrassed, nor shy. Instead of the rusticity 
 and gaucherie that he had anticipated, she met 
 him with the quiet bearing and aplomb of a well 
 bred and well poised woman of the world and 
 yet with a sincere cordiality and frank pleasure 
 that impressed him most favorably. A rather 
 slight but well moulded figure, features refined 
 and regular, face a little pale and drawn, in- 
 dicating the invalid and sufferer, an abundance 
 of wavy brown hair and a pair of brown eyes 
 beaming with welcome, that was the vision that 
 banished Ranee's preconceived picture. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Poole," she exclaimed, "what a 
 pleasure it is to meet you! You seem one of my 
 closest friends. My husband has told me so much 
 
 [136]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 of your kindness and your companionship, both 
 in his letters and after he returned. I have 
 heard so much of you and Mike and Tex and the 
 wonderful 'City of Six' and its beginnings, that 
 it seems as if I were as closely linked to its for- 
 tunes and those of its founders as if I were a part 
 of it." 
 
 "I trust he did not refer to me as 'Mr. Poole,' ' 
 laughingly retorted Ranee. " That would not fit 
 the traditions of the camp nor my part in it. He 
 could not well conceal from you my humble oc- 
 cupation. You must know that I was the cook 
 and that in my lack of previous training I had 
 many shortcomings to answer for." 
 
 "Oh, no! it was never 'Mr.,' but just 
 'Ranee,' although you could not expect me to 
 take that liberty at the first meeting. As for the 
 cooking, no French chef could receive higher 
 encomiums. That was but a small part of his 
 enthusiasm, it was his good friend and loyal 
 comrade that was uppermost in his thoughts," 
 and wonderfully expressive eyes met Ranee's 
 in a caressing glance that spoke the affection and 
 gratitude that her husband's report had inspired. 
 
 "But, gracious! I am forgetting Dot. Our 
 daughter, Dorothea, Mr. Poole." 
 
 [137]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Again Ranee went off his mental balance. A 
 tall, handsome girl, neither awkward nor em- 
 barrassed, extended her hand as frankly as had 
 her mother, whom she resembled in nothing ex- 
 cept the heritage of the eyes, which impressed 
 him as the loveliest pair he ever looked into. 
 
 "I am sure you will permit me to call you 
 'Ranee/ " said the young girl. "It would dispel 
 all my illusions if I had to re-create you as ' Mr.' ; 
 besides, I am only a child, and father will not 
 admit even that, he looks on me as an over- 
 grown baby." 
 
 Ranee protested that the prefix was entirely 
 out of the question and that he would be de- 
 lighted to at once establish that quasi intimacy 
 that the familiar use of his first name would 
 imply. 
 
 "But come, let us leave the steamer; I am sure 
 the change to land will be an agreeable one after 
 what has doubtless been a fatiguing and tiresome 
 trip," and he led the way ashore, where the 
 patient hackman was waiting. Subsidizing a 
 porter to take care of the baggage, they were 
 soon at the hotel, where the travellers were com- 
 fortably installed; Brant, who was awaiting 
 them, having first been formally introduced. 
 
 [138]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 "Ranee, it seems to me that you were a long 
 way off in your ideas of the appearance of your 
 friends," began Brant, whose observation of the 
 ladies, though brief, had served to give him an 
 entirely different impression than what he had 
 expected from Ranee's pre judgment. "They 
 may be country born and country bred, but it 
 strikes me they are also well bred, and they are 
 certainly well mannered. The mother is quite 
 interesting with her refined air, and the daughter 
 is a stunning girl. Did you note the hair and the 
 eyes they both have them and the long eye- 
 lashes that shade them? The combination is 
 fetching. Of course, rustic speech and village 
 manners may offset it." 
 
 "No, no," replied Ranee, "their speech is as 
 free from vulgarism as their air from rusticity. 
 I confess I am surprised, for Wakefield, while 
 one of the best fellows alive, is not polished 
 more of a rough diamond yet he is shrewd 
 and capable. I must have put too low an esti- 
 mate on the advantages of country towns in the 
 North in the way of society and culture." 
 
 "Speaking of Wakefield, what do you think 
 of his greeting to me? Is the Bard of Avon the 
 text-book in the village schools, and mouthing 
 
 [139]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Shakespeare the common custom? I am not 
 very well pleased by the role he has given me 
 'Honest lago, let it not gall your patience that 
 I extend my manners. 'T is my breeding that 
 gives me a bold show of courtesy.' That is what 
 he flung at me ; and faith, I '11 not play lago to 
 his Othello." 
 
 "It's queer," said Ranee, "there is a change 
 in the man from what he was before he went 
 away. At times he is the old Dean, as we nick- 
 named him, eager to know of the happenings 
 during his absence, looking forward to meeting 
 his partners, interested in the fortunes of the 
 corporation in which his own are included, so- 
 licitous and anxious as to whether the wife and 
 girl will be contented in the foothills, and then a 
 dreamy look comes into his eyes and he is up in 
 the clouds. In the hack he asked me if the 
 Forest of Arden was as pleasant as of yore, and, 
 'Are not those woods more free from peril than 
 the envious court?' I could only stare at him 
 until he came down to earth again, which he did 
 when the daughter cried, 'Oh! bother the Forest 
 of Arden, papa; wait until we get there, and if 
 it is, I will play Rosalind to some Orlando.' ' 
 
 "She'll play the deuce up there in exile," 
 
 [140]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 said Brant, "it's a shame to banish her mother 
 and herself to so rough a place. I trust that old 
 fellow will give me some other part than that of 
 the treacherous Venetian." 
 
 The party soon recovered from the fatigue of 
 the voyage and did not seem to feel that the 
 mountains meant exile; on the contrary, they 
 were anxious to leave for their new home. Ranee 
 told them of the preparations that had been 
 made for their reception and comfort; of Ruth, 
 her peculiarities, her share in it, and her budding 
 romance; of the famous output of the mine; of 
 Brant and of the dog to whom he owed the 
 acquaintance, omitting allusion to Brant's pro- 
 fession, feeling that the knowledge might prej- 
 udice them against him. 
 
 At the end of the week they took the river 
 steamer for Sacramento, and while sailing up 
 the placid bay the wife sought out Ranee and 
 asked for a confidential interview. 
 
 " I must confide in you and ask your help," she 
 began. "I have no one else to turn to in my 
 trouble. Surely you must see some change in 
 my husband ; is he the same as when he departed 
 from California?" 
 
 "No," answered Ranee, "he is not my old 
 
 [141]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 pard ; that is, not all the time ; he falls into moody 
 spells and then without rhyme or reason, lugs 
 in a quotation, more or less to the point. He 
 was not given to that before he went away." 
 
 "That is it, and how strange it Is!" she con- 
 tinued. "Before he left me, a saner or more 
 simple man never lived. Books had little interest 
 for him, and poets less. He was always cheerful, 
 good-humored, and interested only in the daily 
 humdrum affairs of life; now he falls into spells 
 and will moon around by the hour, silent, dis- 
 tracted, taking no note of us or his surroundings, 
 muttering and quoting from the plays. Then 
 he will come to himself and, strangely enough, 
 seems to have no recollection of his trance, 
 and" the tears welling up to her eyes 
 "then he is again my old Dick." 
 
 Clasping her hands she looked imploringly at 
 Ranee as if he had the power to ward off the 
 spell. "Do you think his brain affected?" 
 
 Suddenly there came to Ranee the memory 
 of those long winter nights in the cabin and the 
 particular one on which he had read the banter- 
 ing speech of Jessica and Lorenzo. Had he 
 unwittingly set in motion some kink in Wake- 
 field's brain, some hitherto dormant faculty that 
 
 [142]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 needed but the poet's words to fire his imagina- 
 tion? He recalled how from that time his part- 
 ner had become an absorbed student, and that 
 Shakespeare's characters had walked the boards, 
 or rather, the dirt floor of the room, at times to 
 his amusement, at others to his utter boredom. 
 Now he could see that it had developed into a 
 mania, "that grew fat from what it fed upon," 
 and that Wakefield was living a dual life, that 
 his imagination was creating a world and 
 peopling it with shadows ; and Ranee grew grave 
 as he grasped the situation. He could only 
 reply that while there was a change, the chances 
 were it was but a temporary one, and that she 
 could calm her fears in the trust that if he was 
 a trifle unbalanced the tonic of the woods, the 
 meeting with his old partners, and the resump- 
 tion of his mining life would turn his mind back 
 into sane channels. It was the sole sympathy 
 and encouragement he could offer, and the 
 cheering manner in which he conveyed his hope 
 somewhat allayed her fears. 
 
 The journey by boat, stage, and finally in the 
 saddle, took the better part of a week. Arriv- 
 ing at Nigger Tent, where the grade started 
 down the mountain to the river and the ridge 
 
 [143]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 trail began, they met Tex, who had been deputed 
 to await them and act as escort to the camp. 
 From Sacramento it had not been a very pleas- 
 ant trip. The fierce rays of a July sun beat down 
 on the brown hills, the heat was intense, and the 
 stage, plunging along over winding roads, was 
 enveloped in a cloud of red dust stirred up by 
 the hoof-beats of the horses. The only relief 
 from the monotony of the ride was when a turn- 
 out was made to pass the big freight wagons with 
 their string of eight, nine, or ten span of mules, 
 crawling along at a snail's pace, painfully and 
 laboriously hauling the huge cargo to some far- 
 away mining town, spurred to increased effort 
 by the crack of the blacksnake and a volley of 
 picturesque exhortation from the "mule skinner," 
 the expressive nickname given to the early-day 
 teamster. Under the depressing effect of the 
 heat the weary party ceased to note even these 
 incidents, and when they disembarked at the 
 Tent, the women felt themselves almost incapable 
 of further exertion. 
 
 "And this is the paradise to which you have 
 insisted we were going," sarcastically remarked 
 Mrs. Wakefield. "Really, it does not meet my 
 
 [144]
 
 When a turnout was made to pass the big freight wagons with their 
 string of mules."
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 ideas of that Elysium. On the contrary, it seems 
 as if it were the direct opposite." 
 
 "Oh," laughed Ranee, "you are only at the 
 gates of paradise; it is about ten miles up the 
 ridge and we call it ' The City of Six.' ' 
 
 "It's all an illusion," interrupted Dot, "and 
 here 's the proof. This you say is 'Nigger Tent,' 
 and there is no tent, no niggers; we are chasing 
 phantoms, and 'cities' and 'sixes' will turn out 
 as unsubstantial as a mirage, or something so 
 entirely different as to be a contradiction to our 
 expectations." 
 
 ' I am a feather for each wind that blows ; 
 sons, we will higher to the mountains and there 
 secure us,' " Wakefield quoted. 
 
 It was a jarring note, this inapt quotation. 
 While silent and distrait, so far on the journey 
 he had been his saner self, and his relapse damp- 
 ened their spirits. No notice was taken of it; 
 an understanding had been established among 
 the party that they should ignore what they 
 hoped was only an eccentricity. 
 
 A wash in the cold water of a near-by spring 
 served to rid them of a portion of the stains of 
 travel, a luncheon further revived them, and as 
 
 [145]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the lengthening shadows marked the sinking of 
 the sun and tempered the fierce heat, they took the 
 trail for their goal. 
 
 It was a refreshing change from the tiresome 
 stage ride. The path led along the crest of the 
 spur through anzanita thickets of red and 
 green, debouched into pleasant valleys down 
 which purled and murmured sparkling mountain 
 streams, across plateaus where giant pines 
 towered to dizzy heights, over granite-ribbed 
 slopes, seemingly the foundations of the earth 
 pushed to the surface; above and beyond were 
 the snow- topped Sierras apparently joining the 
 sky. It was the beauty of wilderness, a landscape 
 wrought by the Titans. The ladies, although 
 sorely tired, forgot their weariness and fatigue, 
 and voiced their wonder in little cries of amaze- 
 ment, as at some jutting point there stood re- 
 vealed the depths of gorge and canyon, or a 
 glimpse was caught of white-blanketed peaks 
 climbing heavenward. Fascinating as was the 
 panorama they did not linger, as night was com- 
 ing on. Tex urged on the horses (the ladies were 
 riding those of Ranee and Brant, which had been 
 sent back from Sacramento) and the men trudged 
 along sturdily, until just as twilight fell they 
 
 [146]
 
 THE WAKEFIELD FAMILY 
 
 reached their destination. To Ranee and Brant 
 it was the close of a holiday, the distractions 
 and pleasures of which they renounced without 
 regret; to the mother and daughter, the begin- 
 ning of another life in a new and strange world ; 
 to Wakefield, it should have been a homecoming 
 to familiar scenes. 
 
 [147]
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD AND DOT ENJOY CAMP LIFE 
 
 "\TIKE met the party with the sincerest of 
 welcomes, putting off the cloak of gravity 
 in which, since he had taken on the dignity of 
 manager, he had wrapped himself. 
 
 " Sure, I 'm as glad to see you back as I was 
 sorry to have you lave," he cried, shaking Wake- 
 field's hand with a grasp that betokened his 
 pleasure. "It's a bigger City of Six than whin 
 you wint away, and a better one now that ye 're 
 back again. No one is more plased to see you 
 than Mike." 
 
 Wakefield greeted him with lacklustre eye 
 and passive handclasp, but brightened up when 
 he heard the word "Mike." 
 
 " 'Michael Cassio, lieutenant to the warlike 
 Moor,' " he quoted, " 'the great contention of the 
 seas and skies parted our friendship.' ' 
 
 The puzzled Mike stared and dropped his 
 partner's hand the meaning was beyond him, 
 but was spared further confusion by Ranee, 
 who made a diversion by summoning him to meet 
 the women. 
 
 [148]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD AND DOT 
 
 "Take no notice of him," Ranee whispered; 
 "there's a mutiny in his mind, and I will explain 
 later." 
 
 The mother and daughter fully repaid Mike 
 for any coldness on Wakefield's part, immedi- 
 ately claiming him as an old friend had they 
 not known him ever since the beginnings of The 
 City of Six? Mike blushed, wondering if their 
 knowledge extended to those lapses that marked 
 his earlier career, and then turned the current 
 of their thoughts by saying, 
 
 " Sure, it 's tired, sore, and weary you must be; 
 you'll have plenty of time to know us all for 
 better or for worse in the days coming; let me 
 show you your house and introduce you to Mrs. 
 Ruth. It 's me manners I 'm forgetting and she 
 working all the day with a feast for to cilibrate 
 your arrival, her that anxious the house should 
 be prepared and comfortable. I'm called the 
 boss of the camp, but it 's not so she 's the rale 
 boss, and nobody dare dispute it." 
 
 Ruth stood at the boarding-house door curi- 
 ous but resolved not to make any advances, 
 when Mike approached and introduced them, but 
 she unbent enough to take them in charge and 
 lead them to the new house. Tired as they were, 
 
 [149]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 they broke into exclamations of pleased surprise 
 as Ruth showed them the interior. It goes with- 
 out saying that under Ruth's vigilant eye, it was 
 as neat as the proverbial pin; it was more, there 
 were the homelike touches in arrangement and 
 adornment that could only be given by a capable 
 woman, and Ruth had expended much energy 
 and care in the preparation. 
 
 The same thought came to Mrs. Wakefield 
 that had come to the sick Ranee after he had 
 climbed the steep canyon some months before. 
 
 "Oh, it's heavenly, a heavenly rest," she cried 
 as she sank with a tired but satisfied sigh into the 
 inviting rocking-chair, "it's so much beyond 
 anything we expected," and Dot echoed her 
 mother's words. 
 
 Ruth was pleased more than she cared to show 
 and bustled around, helping them off with their 
 hats and dusters. 
 
 "Your baggage got here yesterday," she in- 
 formed them; "it's in the next room. Don't 
 hurry. When you tidy up a bit you will find 
 supper waiting; you all must be hungry," and 
 she left them and trotted back to the boarding- 
 house, where Tex was awaiting her. "For gra- 
 cious' sake, go wash off the dust ! You 're a 
 
 [150]
 
 MRS. WAKEF1ELD AND DOT 
 
 sight!" was the loving welcome she extended him. 
 He started to obey, when Ranee came up and 
 without ado kissed Mrs. Ruth on the cheek, much 
 to her confusion and surprise at his temerity. 
 
 "Well, I 'm damned," muttered Tex, "and she 
 did not scratch him," recalling a few secret at- 
 tempted love passages on his part which had 
 resulted disastrously. As for Ruth, she was not 
 very angry, although she made Ranee's cheek 
 tingle with a slap and declared that he had lost 
 his manners while away. 
 
 Supper over, a generous and dainty meal for 
 which Ruth was duly complimented, the new- 
 comers retired, and Mike, Ranee, and Tex lit 
 their pipes and wandered off up the flat, seating 
 themselves under a lofty pine, out of earshot of 
 the camp. 
 
 "What's the matter with the old man?" asked 
 Mike, "I don't believe that he knew me, what 
 with his Michael Cassio and his contintions, and 
 you noticed that he never spoke a word while 
 we were ateing supper. He takes no interest 
 whatever in the camp or the mine ; you would n't 
 think he was a quarter owner in one of the best 
 properties in the State." 
 
 Ranee briefly told the condition that he had 
 
 [151]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 found Wakefield in, the unquestioned fact that 
 his mind was unbalanced, and the fears he had 
 that the malady was growing on him. 
 
 "He has Shakespeare on the brain," continued 
 Ranee, "and he has studied the plays until he 
 not only has them by heart, but peoples the 
 present with the characters. Most of the time he 
 is silent and brooding until the hallucination pos- 
 sesses him. Then I am Mercutio, Orlando, or 
 Prince Henry. Brant to him is a veritable lago 
 in the flesh, and you remember that he dubbed 
 you Michael Cassio. It's a fantastic mix-up 
 and there is nothing to do that I can see but to 
 wait until the family settles down and then seek 
 some professional advice. Possibly his being 
 here among his old partners and old work will 
 bring a cure." 
 
 "There was nothing wrong with his head when 
 he wint away," commented Mike, "and he's the 
 last man on the green earth that I would look 
 for to turn looney." 
 
 There was nothing in the case that seemed to 
 call for any interference, and the conclusion was 
 reached, for the present at least, to ignore his 
 idiosyncrasies in the hope that the quiet life, the 
 
 [152]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD AND DOT 
 
 mountains, and familiar associations would re- 
 store him to his old self. 
 
 Mike and Tex were both emphatic in their 
 admiration of Mrs. Wakefield and Dot. 
 
 " It don't need a telescope to see they are rale 
 ladies," remarked Mike, "and I'm glad they are 
 here; they'll be just in time to dance at the 
 wedding." 
 
 "What wedding?" asked Ranee. 
 
 "Oh, we have a bit of news of our own. Ye 
 didn't know that Mrs. Ruth has persuaded the 
 judge to break the bonds. Ask Tex, he is the 
 most interested party outside of the widdy her- 
 self ; sure, he 's put in all of his spare time coort- 
 ing ever since ye wint away." 
 
 "Congratulations, old man," exclaimed Ranee, 
 clapping the confused Texan on the back. " You 
 could not have made a better choice. If I had 
 not seen how matters stood long ago, I would 
 have had some pretensions myself, although she 
 thinks I am too lazy and trifling to ever come 
 to any good." 
 
 Tex took the banter good-naturedly, although 
 he blushed red to the ears as he stammeringly 
 confirmed Mike's news. 
 
 [153]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "I've knocked around this yere world alone 
 ever since I was a pup, camping where night 
 found me, and I never knew what solid comfort 
 was until Mrs. Sage came to the camp. That 
 first husband of hern must have been an ornery 
 hound not to appreciate such a woman." 
 
 Perhaps he was, but a sharp tongue will wear 
 away the patience of the meekest of men; and 
 Ranee could not restrain the thought that the 
 deserter had some justification for his flight. On 
 the other hand, Tex's phlegmatic disposition and 
 easy-going methods possibly needed just such a 
 spur as Ruth would supply ; and, besides, he was 
 now a capitalist with hazy ideas as to the value 
 of money or the risks of investments. He had 
 decided that if all went well he would go down 
 to the great valleys, select a big ranch, and raise 
 cattle. The life appealed to him; he had gone 
 over the project with Ruth, who liked the idea, 
 and after they were married they would take a 
 vacation and start in quest of the promised land. 
 
 Then Brant sauntered up, having held aloof 
 from the group during their talk, as he was 
 virtually an outsider; but he also had plans for 
 the future revolving in his head, and wanted to 
 advise with the capable Mike. 
 
 [154]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD AND DOT 
 
 "I am through with cards," he said, "and I'm 
 pretty well fixed. Mining interests me; it's a 
 good deal of a gamble anyhow, and I believe that 
 I will try my fortune on the ridge. The only 
 trouble that I can see is that if I go up against 
 the game with what little knowledge I have of 
 it, the percentage will be against me. In fact, 
 I 'm a sucker, with the saving grace that I know 
 it. Now, if I could have the benefit of your 
 advice and experience, you might steer me right. 
 You find the ground, and I will put up the 
 money." 
 
 The proposal interested Mike, whom, by the 
 way, Brant punctiliously addressed as "Mr. Don- 
 ovan"; and with a promise of having a further 
 talk over it the party broke up and sought their 
 respective beds. 
 
 It was well along into August and the sum- 
 mer's heat was at its fiercest, the grass had 
 withered and crackled under the tread of feet, 
 the blue smoke hung over the mountains and 
 dimmed the view, the alder leaves drooped, the 
 snow, except on the loftiest peaks, or in the deep 
 gorges where the sun shone not, melted and dis- 
 appeared, the sparkling streams receded into tiny 
 rivulets, in the mid-day hours the piping quail 
 
 [155]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 sought the shade of the densest coverts, the 
 vociferous blue jay hushed its raucous note, and 
 even that essence of life and energy, the red chip- 
 munk, paused in its merry round. And yet it 
 was not oppressive; the air was as pure and as 
 stimulating as old wine, and there was relief and 
 comfort under the shade of the live oak. 
 
 The coming of Wakefield and his family had 
 but temporarily disturbed the routine of the 
 camp. The mine continued to yield its treas- 
 ure lavishly, the work had become methodical, 
 the company was not troubled by intruders, the 
 channel on the point proved to be the only rich 
 gravel on that side of the ridge, and life was 
 sedate and prosy and almost without incident. 
 There were those in the camp who toiled not; 
 Ranee loafed and took his ease, and Brant, escap- 
 ing from the sordid life and vulgar associations 
 of a profession that he was about to put behind 
 him, was an almost constant visitor. 
 
 Mrs. Wakefield and Dot, charmed with the 
 novelty of their experiences, soon grew accus- 
 tomed to the surroundings. The tonic of the 
 pines, the pungent air, the healing breath of the 
 soft winds, the open-siesta air on the veranda, 
 had the desired and prophesied effect ; the invalid 
 
 [156]
 
 MRS. WAKEF1ELD AND DOT 
 
 was soon convalescent, and a complete cure was 
 assured. As for Dot, she was a bird let loose, 
 an irresponsible creature fascinated with the 
 novelty of it all, freed from the fetters and 
 shackles that exacted rigid compliance with the 
 narrow customs and the heed for established pro- 
 prieties, founded on generations of Puritanical 
 limitations. She looked back on the social village 
 life, where the least step outside beaten paths, 
 the slightest departure from unwritten but well 
 understood laws of conduct, called forth the 
 scathing criticism of the village gossips. It was 
 all so different here. In the eyes of the camp 
 she was a young goddess to whom all paid hom- 
 age. The freedom of the mountains was hers, 
 an unfettered domain in which she was at liberty 
 to walk, to ride, to pass her idle hours and it 
 was all leisure at her own sweet will with 
 exceptions. These latter were not very irksome. 
 Although she had agreed that it was paradise, 
 there were snakes in its borders. At the spring 
 a warning rattle had brought her to a halt, happily 
 at a safe distance. An ugly head arose out of 
 shining coils, two horrid bead-like eyes shot 
 threatening glances and watched for an aggres- 
 sive movement and then, much to her relief, the 
 
 [157]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 coils unfolded and with sinuous grace the reptile 
 glided away into the weeds and out of sight. 
 
 She was warned that there were also human 
 reptiles infesting the country. Thieves and as- 
 sassins lurked and hid along the trails, in waiting 
 for the flush miner, the passing wayfarer, levy- 
 ing illegal tolls and not hesitating to add murder 
 to robbery. An unprotected girl was not safe 
 outside the bounds of the camp, and Dot was 
 entreated to limit her wanderings. While she 
 laughed at the warnings, she was secretly im- 
 pressed, and then Ranee had an adventure that 
 frightened her into a willing obedience. 
 
 [158]
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 RANGE ESCAPES FROM ROBBERS AND FALLS IN LOVE 
 
 T T had been Mike's custom on Sundays to ride 
 either to Downieville or over to Forest Hill, 
 taking with him the week's product of the mine 
 and depositing it in the express office for convey- 
 ance to the United States Assay Office at San 
 Francisco. The danger involved in these weekly 
 treasure-bearing trips was well understood, but 
 Mike was fearless and withal prudent and cau- 
 tious, going well armed, and so far had not been 
 molested. After Ranee's return this task had 
 been delegated to him, and as he had sworn never 
 to visit Downieville again it was to the more 
 distant Forest City that he carried the dust. The 
 trail did not climb directly over the ridge the 
 mountain was too steep, but followed along 
 the slope westward to a gap that cut through 
 and gave easy access to the basin through which 
 Kanaka Creek flowed. In a little valley just 
 around the bend of the creek, a Mexican had 
 pitched his tent, built a rude shack, and established 
 a wayside stopping-place where mule packers, 
 
 [159]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 horsemen, and footmen could procure a meal and 
 other minor comforts. He was assisted in his 
 duty as host by two daughters, olive-skinned 
 types of the Spanish-Indian mixture, that had 
 peopled the country before the arrival of the 
 pestilent "Gringo." 
 
 Ranee had met these brown muchachas and 
 partaken of their hospitality, and one Sunday en- 
 countered one of them, as he supposed, a mile or 
 so from the inn, walking along the path. He 
 gallantly offered her a mount on the horse, in- 
 sisting that the animal could carry double, and 
 was somewhat surprised at her positive refusal, 
 as the girls were not famed for shyness; but in 
 deference to her scruples, he offered to dismount 
 and give her the sole occupancy of the saddle 
 while he walked alongside. He was more aston- 
 ished when she waved him away with violent ges- 
 ture, exclaiming, "Vayase V. en seguida, sino 
 quiere que le maten!" ("Be off quickly, if you 
 do not want to be killed!") Still more puzzled, 
 he had sense enough to heed, and rode on down 
 to the inn. Here he met the Mexican, to whom 
 he told of his offer and the emphatic refusal, 
 asking why the muchacha was so positive in de- 
 clining the courtesy. 
 
 [160]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 <e S&nor, V. se equwoca, ella no era mi hija por- 
 que las dos estdn en casa" ("You are mistaken; 
 she was not my daughter; my girls are both in 
 the house.") And to prove to the incredulous 
 Ranee the truth of his assertion he called them 
 out of the kitchen, where they were occupied in 
 the preparation of a meal. The mystified Ranee 
 acknowledged his error, continued on to Forest 
 City, deposited his treasure, and took the trail 
 back again. When he reached the Mexican's 
 house he was met by two excited girls. ff Dios 
 mio! de que peligro se ha escapado V.I Era 
 Murieta y sus bandoleros" ("My God, what a 
 danger you have escaped! It was Murieta and 
 his band.") 
 
 It transpired that Ranee had not been gone 
 fifteen minutes when this famed bandit, who at 
 that time was leaving a bloody trail throughout 
 the northern counties, had dashed up to the inn, 
 accompanied by half a dozen desperadoes, 
 Greasers like himself, and a Mexican girl, un- 
 doubtedly she who had given Ranee the timely 
 warning. Murieta eagerly questioned his com- 
 patriot as to whether Ranee had passed, how 
 long he had tarried, and what time had lapsed 
 since his departure, and seemed much chagrined 
 
 [161]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 to learn that his prey had escaped him. Ranee 
 by that time was well along the banks of the 
 creek, which was thickly dotted by miners' cabins 
 and too well settled to risk a foray. 
 
 "Maldito Americano! no podemos cojerlo, y 
 cuando vuelva ya no tendra nada." ("Damn 
 the American! we cannot catch him, and when 
 he returns he will have nothing.") 
 
 The robbers were bold enough to remain until 
 a meal had been prepared for them, and disposed 
 of, at the conclusion of which the renowned 
 Joaquin tossed his countryman a fifty-dollar 
 gold "slug," and rode away down the ridge. The 
 girls gathered from the talk that they were 
 hastening to their haunts in the southern counties, 
 their depredations having aroused the region 
 roundabout, and that they feared pursuit. They 
 had learned in some way of Ranee's treasure- 
 laden trip, by a miscalculation had failed to inter- 
 cept him, and were disappointed in missing a 
 rich prize. 
 
 What motive had impelled the girl to warn him 
 of his danger and urge his escape remained a mys- 
 tery; but there was no doubt that she had saved 
 his life, for Murieta was a merciless scoundrel 
 who invariably added murder to robbery when a 
 
 [162]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 hated American was the victim. After that in- 
 cident more caution was exercised. The Sunday 
 trip ceased, no particular day was chosen, and 
 Brant went along as an escort. 
 
 The only fly in the honey now was Wakefield's 
 continued aberrations. Mentally he made no 
 improvement. He was in a curious state 
 docile, tractable, and yet silent, apathetic, seem- 
 ingly caring little for his kin and less for his 
 friends. He submitted to the loving care lavished 
 on him by his daughter and Ranee with an ex- 
 asperating indifference that was disheartening 
 and discouraging. The operations at the mine 
 were of no interest to him, nor did he thank 
 Fortune for the gifts she was bringing him. The 
 past was a misty blank, his own part in it a wan- 
 ing memory ; he was not concerned in the present, 
 nor anxious as to the future. He betrayed no 
 emotion, no feeling, except when the experiment 
 was tried of depriving him of his prized volume. 
 When he missed it, he broke into so fierce an out- 
 burst of rage and anger that haste was made to 
 restore it, and again in possession, he relapsed 
 into indifference. Occasionally his moody silence 
 gave way to a torrent of speech, in which he 
 quoted page after page of the plays, and while 
 
 [163]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 under this influence his lacklustre eyes lighted 
 up, his listlessness dropped away, and the phan- 
 toms of his imagination, "spirits called from the 
 vasty deep," became more real than the presence 
 of the sympathetic circle who mourned to see 
 
 "That noble and most sovereign reason, 
 Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh." 
 
 Suffering himself to be guided like a little 
 child, he ate, slept, and drank with a dull regu- 
 larity ; the remainder of the time he gave himself 
 up to brooding, a dead soul in a quick body. 
 All attempts to rouse him from this lethargy re- 
 sulted, when successful, in emphasizing his mania, 
 and this quickening of the intelligence was always 
 with the same result, speech confined to the one 
 matter; and in that channel it was marvellous. 
 It was as if his brain was a printed book which 
 to his mind's eye was ever open, a legible page 
 from which his tongue read at will, although in- 
 coherently, the quotations as a rule being most 
 absurdly inapplicable. 
 
 There were many anxious consultations anent 
 the situation. There was always the fear that 
 his brain twist might take violent form, when he 
 would do harm to himself and others. Treat- 
 ment in an asylum was suggested, but the dis- 
 
 [164]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 tressed wife could not bear the thought of this; 
 travel and consultation with specialists was sug- 
 gested as an alternative, but the burden of his 
 care was too much to be borne by those who would 
 be compelled to assume the guardianship ; and it 
 was finally agreed to remain at the camp, at least 
 until the close of the season, in the meantime 
 summoning an alienist and submitting the case 
 to him for such treatment as might be determined 
 upon. 
 
 The hamlet sank into a prosperous and un- 
 eventful routine with hardly a ripple to disturb its 
 placidity. Ruth, despite her angles and acidity, 
 had a warm heart, and the latent intolerance with 
 which she had at first accepted the intruders of 
 her own sex, melted away as her sympathies were 
 aroused by their affliction. 
 
 "They were trifling enough to insinuate that 
 if we lost our power of speech it would please 
 them ; they don't like to be told of their faults and 
 shortcomings. A man who couldn't talk, grac- 
 ious! that is another thing, if Mr. Potter lost 
 his tongue, he 'd lose me." 
 
 This way of looking at it did not hinder her 
 from putting the brighter side of it before Mrs. 
 Wakefield, and this was done with a delicacy and 
 
 [165]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tact that was surprising. The truth was, Mrs. 
 Ruth was mellowing. The hurt her mean- 
 spirited husband had inflicted in so basely desert- 
 ing her had been a deep-rankling wound. She 
 had been a good and industrious wife, so she 
 thought, and did not comprehend but that was 
 her full duty. The little thorns she had carried 
 under her tongue, the multitude of sharp stabs she 
 had dealt out to him in upbraiding him for his 
 shiftlessness (that was her favorite word of re- 
 proach) , like the continual dropping of water had 
 at last worn him out, and he had fled. The City 
 of Six had to her been a city of refuge. If she 
 was contentious, the men smoked their pipes and 
 retreated out of earshot. Did she insist on that 
 badge of servitude, that token of an effete and 
 despised civilization, the "biled shirt," well, it was 
 only one day in a week ; and considering how con- 
 sistently she looked after their creature comforts 
 in other matters they could gracefully concede 
 the point. After a time they came to take a cer- 
 tain pride in it ; it was a distinction that set them 
 apart from their less particular friends of neigh- 
 boring camps; and the gibes and jeers of the 
 Hepsidamers and the boys over on Kanaka Creek 
 were borne with equanimity. Not by all, perhaps. 
 
 [166]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 It was asserted that some of the more cowardly 
 ones kept a blue woollen shirt hidden out in the 
 manzanita thickets and, when visiting neighbor- 
 ing towns, retired to the depths of the chaparral, 
 shed the white and donned the blue again, chang- 
 ing on their return. After all, these concessions 
 made for cleanliness and for health and restraint, 
 and kept The City of Six on a moral plane that 
 was unique among its rivals. 
 
 What perhaps contributed the most to sweeten 
 Ruth's acerbity, besides the reflection that pos- 
 sibly her methods with her first husband had not 
 been such as to insure full conjugal happiness, 
 was her altered place in the camp. Although her 
 sway from the first had been supreme, still her 
 position to begin with had been a menial one ; she 
 was a hired domestic working for wages. This had 
 not troubled her very much until it became known 
 that Wakefield was to return with his family. She 
 felt as if she could not brook a rival, certainly not 
 a mistress, who would interfere in her duties, arro- 
 gating that right as the wife of one of the princi- 
 pal owners. Now, as the prospective wife of Tex, 
 she stood on equal footing, and as Mrs. Wakefield 
 had shown no desire to enter into any strife for 
 mastery, there was no occasion for envy or dis- 
 
 [167]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 cord. Instead, her heart went out to the woman, 
 and her active sympathy and practical way of 
 meeting the situation went far to soften and con- 
 sole the afflicted wife. Her own wedding was 
 set for no distant date, and both she and Tex 
 were of the opinion that so long as the mine con- 
 tinued to pour out its golden stream it would be 
 folly to abandon it for more uncertain invest- 
 ments. This decision had been reached after a 
 liberal offer made by Brant to buy Tex's interest. 
 The prospective marriage caused a mild anticipa- 
 tory excitement in the camp, and there was a 
 general understanding that the event was to be 
 celebrated in a way that would do credit to all 
 concerned. 
 
 Ranee, since the arrival of Mrs. Wakefield 
 and Dot, had degenerated into a confirmed and 
 contented idler. He had been a favorite with 
 Ruth, primarily because no one could resist his 
 coaxing ways and sunny disposition. He was a 
 well-bred gentleman who did not need to assert 
 it; his breeding was obvious and made itself 
 manifest in kindly consideration for others. 
 However, he was a born rebel, and did not sub- 
 mit to all of Mrs. Ruth's regulations; but then 
 he was so good-natured, so humble in his chiv- 
 
 [168]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 alric deference to her sex, that she petted and 
 pampered him, looked after his little comforts, 
 and in her treatment contradicted all her pre- 
 cepts. This had not filled the void in Ranee's life. 
 He hankered after the flesh-pots of Egypt, the 
 luxuries of civilization. He was a lover of nature 
 and found much that was congenial in his sur- 
 roundings: the mountains appealed to him, the 
 liberty of thought and action where every one 
 was a law unto himself was not unpleasant; the 
 insidious charm of climate was working insen- 
 sibly in his veins, and he came back to it from his 
 vacation almost reconciled to a continuance. 
 
 Yet he had had a shock; the horrible scene to 
 which he had been an involuntary witness the 
 murder of the Mexican woman by the mob had 
 filled his soul with disgust. He could not look 
 down the mountain to the town without a sensa- 
 tion of loathing and hate for the savages who 
 had committed the dastardly action, and he had 
 religiously kept his vow not to put his foot 
 again inside the limits of the place. The mem- 
 ory of the incident for a time was a nightmare 
 to him, and he had about determined to take up 
 his residence at San Francisco, when Wakefield's 
 return, his sad condition, and what was really 
 
 [169]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the underlying motive for the reconsideration, 
 the discovery that the wife was a refined and at- 
 tractive woman and the daughter a sweet bit of 
 femininity just budding into womanhood, both 
 needing in their perplexing situation the services 
 and guidance of a disinterested friend, persuaded 
 him to delay. He found it a pleasant task he had 
 undertaken, and this was the deciding influence 
 that led him to postpone his leave-taking and for 
 a time devote himself to that duty. It was for- 
 tunate that Wakefield was so tractable ; he really 
 gave no trouble, followed when bidden, acquiesced 
 in any suggestion, and was never more contented 
 apparently than when wandering around the hills 
 in company with Ranee and Dot. His presence 
 preserved the proprieties and yet was no hin- 
 drance to an intimacy that was soon established 
 between the pair. Dot and Ranee had agreed it 
 was to be the ideal friendship, the mutual trust 
 and confidence between congenial spirits com- 
 rades as it were, for Dot had chosen her path. 
 She was to be the good angel of her stricken sire, 
 his prop and shield; she looked ahead to long 
 years of disinterested and loving service unless, 
 happily, his restoration to sanity was accom- 
 plished. What nobler task, she asked Ranee, 
 
 [170]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 than to give oneself to such a duty? And he 
 gravely acquiesced, although perhaps he was not 
 quite so sure of it. So they passed the happy 
 hours away, loitering in the green woods and 
 under the stately pines, those perfect days that 
 Nature offers to those who attune themselves in 
 accord, the pagan charm of the Sierra foothills. 
 They were playing with fire, both man and maid, 
 for there was an attachment, the growth of this 
 daily intimacy, that was binding them in stronger 
 fetters than that of mere friendship and was fast 
 ripening into a closer bond. The untutored girl 
 had no prescience of this ; she was too happy and 
 too ignorant to give herself any self-examination ; 
 she only knew, or faintly realized, that this was 
 indeed paradise, herself too pure and innocent to 
 anticipate the intrusion of the serpent. Her father 
 was with her in all her walks and wanderings, 
 and if she gave any thought to the situation it 
 was that she was engaged in the filial task that 
 she had taken on herself. There were hours when 
 Ranee was absent, and the world did not go so 
 well. The sun did not shine so brightly, the 
 woods were not so attractive, the companionship 
 of the father became a little irksome; but this 
 she explained by charging the tediousness to 
 
 [171]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 moods. "One cannot be always exalted,'" she 
 ingenuously told Ranee, and that worthy ad- 
 mitted that he also had his blue days, which 
 seemed to fall on the occasions when he rode away 
 with the treasure to Forest City, and this, he 
 argued, was due to the responsibility which, thrust 
 upon him, brought him back to the practical 
 affairs of life. 
 
 In the self-communings of these lonely rides, 
 Ranee began to get a glimmering of the true con- 
 ditions; and while he was neither startled nor 
 displeased, it compelled him to a little more se- 
 rious thought. He had looked upon and accepted 
 Dot as a child, a charming, unsophisticated girl 
 who, while the opposite of the rustic maiden of 
 his imagination, was too young to be dignified 
 into a marriageable quantity ; and he now realized 
 that from his own standpoint he was as mistaken 
 in this as in his previous mental deductions. In- 
 stead, she was budding into womanhood, and this 
 tall, graceful, self-possessed maiden was as at- 
 tractive in person as in mind. Ranee never 
 tired of admiring the abundant mass of wavy 
 brown hair, coiled and crowning her well-poised 
 head, the Greek contour of her profile, the ex- 
 pressive eyes half hidden under the long lashes, 
 
 [172]
 
 RANGE ESCAPES ROBBERS 
 
 the small mouth and full red lips, the rounded 
 curves of form and the lightness and springiness 
 of step, that sign of youth and health. And then, 
 she was endowed with an alertness of mind, a 
 sense of humor so rare in women, a sympathetic 
 ear; in fact, when Ranee, in his meditations, 
 dwelt on all these graces, he could see only the 
 perfect woman, and great was his wonderment 
 that such a pearl should have found its way to 
 so prosaic a place as The City of Six. 
 
 [173]
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD BECOME FRIENDLY 
 
 Brant had come the knowledge that there 
 were compensations to be found in legit- 
 imate pursuits that were unknown in his old 
 career. While he was the capitalist rather than 
 the miner, and left to others the hard work and 
 toil and was only interested in the output, yet 
 he was as coldly calculating in his role of em- 
 ployer as he had been in his old profession, se- 
 lecting his men for their skill and capacity and 
 liberally rewarding them for intelligent service. 
 Under Mike's guidance he had bought out two 
 promising locations on the supposed course of 
 the channel just over the ridge, and was driving 
 a tunnel under the mountain to intersect it, an 
 adit that would penetrate through some two 
 thousand feet of bedrock before reaching the 
 gravel bed, if it existed. This meant a prelim- 
 inary investment of at least twenty thousand 
 dollars, a dead loss if there was a miscalculation, 
 an unprofitable outlay if the channel was there 
 and the gravel not so rich as anticipated. 
 
 [174]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 On the other hand, all the old river-beds where 
 opened had been rich with gold, and success 
 meant a return of a hundred-fold. 
 
 So after all it was really a gamble, and as 
 Brant put it, if Nature had not stacked the cards 
 against him he reckoned it would be a profitable 
 deal. As it would consume at least a year before 
 the preliminary work of boring the tunnel could 
 be completed, Brant had but little to occupy his 
 time beyond a daily ride to the claims and a 
 rather impatient overlook of the progress being 
 made. It seemed to him that he had started on 
 an interminable and never-ending task. It was 
 the day of hand drilling and black powder as 
 contrasted with the present machine drills and 
 dynamite, and although the work never ceased, 
 day or night, the hard rock was stubborn and 
 five or six feet was the average daily progression. 
 Was he chasing a rainbow with the mythical pot 
 of gold at the other end? Was all this talk of 
 buried rivers and extinguished water courses a 
 fantastic theory evolved to fit the chance deposits 
 along the ridge, or was it a world-fact that in 
 the dim past that theologians denied and science 
 timidly revealed, gigantic forces had sported with 
 mountain and valley, uplifting and remoulding, 
 
 [175]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 vomiting ashes and lava over crest and canyon, 
 sealing the book of record until the avarice of 
 man and the lure of gold re-opened its pages? 
 He had plenty of leisure to speculate on these 
 problems, although he vexed his brain but little 
 in that direction. Gambler that he was, he 
 never questioned the Biblical story of creation, 
 and belief taught him that no such transforma- 
 tion could be wrought in the brief centuries 
 since the earth was evolved out of chaos ; he had 
 no ambition to reconcile science and religion, 
 and so dismissed the subject from his mind. 
 
 While he had become an accepted dweller in 
 the camp, he had been unable to establish that 
 same bond of comradeship that existed between 
 the partners. The original members had the 
 pride of the pioneer; they had discovered the 
 wealth of the lead that gave it existence, had 
 endured the hardships and shared the good for- 
 tune of its prosperous growth, and in the in- 
 timate life there had grown a tie of brotherhood, 
 an affectionate concern for and in each other's 
 affairs that knit each closely to the other. Brant 
 did not reach this inner circle of fraternal re- 
 gard. He was an intruder, a self-invited visitor 
 whose pursuits were distinct from and not in 
 
 [176]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 common with those of his associates. Not that 
 he was made to feel this; on the contrary, he 
 was placed on the most friendly footing, but 
 unconsciously the line was drawn. Mike was 
 too busy with the supervision of the property 
 to give any of his valuable time to hospitable 
 duties; Tex had his romance which absorbed 
 him; and Ranee, to whom was due Brant's pres- 
 ence in the place, had drifted away in another 
 path, taking upon himself the care of Wakefield, 
 a duty more cheerfully undertaken, perhaps, 
 from the fact that Dot and her father were in- 
 separable. To be sure, there were the reunions 
 at the table and the siesta under the pines when 
 twilight fell, but here a curious embarrassment 
 arose. 
 
 It was evident that Wakefield had conceived 
 and held a bitter dislike toward Brant. While 
 this was not demonstrated by any marked out- 
 burst or hostile act, still by that telepathic 
 interchange of mind and thought Wakefield's 
 intolerance was mentally conveyed. He had 
 dubbed Brant "lago" at the first encounter, 
 and from that day had bestowed no further 
 recognition beyond a muttered excerpt that fitted 
 the treacherous Venetian's character. At times 
 
 [177]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 his eye lighted up with a baleful hate unmistak- 
 able in its malignancy, and the little group feared 
 an overt demonstration, although it was only a 
 momentary mood, as he quickly lapsed into his 
 usual apathy. His attitude was more marked 
 in the outdoor wanderings. Here nothing would 
 persuade him to accept or remain in Brant's 
 company, and any attempt to share the walks 
 was balked by a sullen and silent refusal to join. 
 
 As Mrs. Wakefield, although almost restored 
 to health, was still an invalid, she contented her- 
 self with a lazy life that involved no exertion 
 beyond the comfort of a rocking-chair and the 
 manufacture of tidies and other vexatious adorn- 
 ments, interrupted by an occasional visit to or 
 from Ruth. Her sorrow over her husband's 
 strange affliction became less poignant as time 
 passed and she bore the cross without complaint. 
 There was always the hope of restoration and 
 the solace of his comrades' sympathy, and not 
 one of them gave more sincere expression to this 
 feeling than Brant. 
 
 Out of harmony in all other directions, here 
 at least was a relief from the solitude and ennui 
 that oppressed him, and it was not long before 
 he was on a most friendly footing. So much 
 
 [178]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 of his old life as would bear relating he confided 
 to her, and she was a sympathetic listener and 
 in turn gossiped of her native village, its op- 
 pressive atmosphere and narrow social restric- 
 tions, the dull round of simple diversions, the 
 two trips to that wonderful place, New York, 
 visits that had revealed a new world and filled 
 her with longing for an escape from the stupid 
 town; the return of her husband and the aban- 
 donment of the old life not very startling or 
 exciting happenings, for beyond the voyage to 
 California her existence had run on without in- 
 cident. And here it was all so new and so 
 strange. The dead weight of ancient customs 
 was lifted, the Puritanical fetters that regulated 
 the daily walk, the obsequious deference paid to 
 Mrs. Grundy, the absence of those pin-pricks of 
 village criticism that tyrannized the conduct and 
 paralyzed the will of the boldest; all these sud- 
 denly vanished, and although the little hamlet 
 numbered scarce a hundred souls, it was as 
 broadly cosmopolitan and as tolerant as the 
 biggest of cities. At first her mind gave but a 
 tired acquiescence to the breaking down of the 
 old barriers and left her in a state of mental 
 topsy-turviness. There was an inward protest 
 
 [179]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 against this freedom that brooked none of the 
 old restraints, that recognized no class distinc- 
 tions, that measured the individual by his achieve- 
 ments and ridiculed any pretension that was not 
 justified by his work. In her birthplace Mike 
 would have been impossible, yet here he loomed 
 up as the one man capable. He was illiterate, 
 his brogue was deliciously absurd, he had been 
 a brawler, a rollicking wine-bibber, a type that 
 she had been taught to regard as a pariah; here 
 he commanded respect and obedience by force 
 of dominant will and capability. 
 
 And Tex, a large-minded, careless frontiers- 
 man, who was a stranger to the polish and social 
 amenities of civilization how dwarfed in com- 
 parison were her old acquaintances, the aristo- 
 cratic country banker, the aspiring clerk, the 
 humdrum lawyer, the plodding farmer, in con- 
 trast with this simple giant. As she listened to 
 his reminiscences of a border life, thrilling epi- 
 sodes that were told as commonplace occurrences, 
 he was to her imagination a man who had done 
 things other than lend money at usury, measure 
 tape, settle village quarrels, or raise a crop of 
 corn. 
 
 It was Ranee, however, that upset all her tra- 
 
 [180]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 ditions and dispelled lifelong prejudices. The 
 seed of abolitionism had grown and flourished 
 in the Mohawk Valley, and the slaveholder had 
 been held in abhorrence and detestation. While 
 politics were of but little interest to her, the 
 prejudices aroused by the fulminations against 
 slavery and slaveholders had so biassed her mind 
 that she could see no good that could come out 
 of Nazareth; and yet Ranee, a type of the South, 
 upset all her theories, beliefs, and traditions. He 
 was an oppressor and nigger-driver, had lived 
 off the toil and sweat of the slave, and yet 
 was so absurdly different from anything she had 
 imagined. He was kindly, considerate, tolerant 
 of others' opinions and not intolerant in the 
 expression of his own; if he was a fair repre- 
 sentative she would needs revise her opinions. 
 Not that she pondered very deeply on the matter ; 
 it was only one of the many revisions that this 
 new life made necessary. 
 
 With restored health there at first came a 
 sense of loneliness, a feeling that she was outside 
 of the general affairs of the camp. Her hus- 
 band's strange monomania had brought about a 
 partial estrangement. He had apparently ceased 
 to recognize her as a wife, carrying it so far 
 
 [181]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 as to refuse to dwell under the same roof. In- 
 dulging the whim, Ranee had given him a bunk 
 in the office and there he slept, taking his meals 
 at the boarding-house and passing the day in 
 woodland rambles with his daughter, to whom 
 he gave a dogged fidelity. As Ranee felt it 
 incumbent upon himself to guard them both, 
 the wife saw but little of him, and Brant became 
 her companion and consoler. 
 
 To the man the companionship had an in- 
 describable charm. Self-ostracized from contact 
 with all good women (for in his old profession 
 they had gathered up their skirts and passed him 
 by in scorn), his enforced association with the 
 other kind had bred in him, a contempt for the 
 sex; for gambler that he had been, he had re- 
 mained a clean man morally. A bird of prey, per- 
 haps, prospering and thriving on the passions and 
 weaknesses of mankind, yet he could not refrain 
 from despising his victims for their weakness. 
 " They know the percentage is against them. Why 
 do they buck at the game ? " was his comment ; and 
 then, as his thoughts wandered to his late invest- 
 ments, he wondered if he were not going up 
 against a deal where the cards might not run in 
 his favor. However, but a small part of his 
 
 [182]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 fortune was staked on the venture, and there was 
 just enough element of chance to interest him 
 in the play. 
 
 The little porch fronting the Wakefield dwell- 
 ing became his afternoon lounging-place. There 
 was not much in common to talk about, for he 
 shrank from delving into his own past and he 
 did not grow over-confidential in his confidences. 
 Enough that he had been born and bred a gentle- 
 man, and that his pride of family and descent 
 remained. He delicately hinted that his pro- 
 fession had not been so much a matter of his 
 own choosing, having been forced upon him by 
 circumstances beyond his control; and had he 
 not abandoned it when most prosperous? He 
 carefully concealed the fact that his capital still 
 backed the faro games over at Moore's Flat and 
 Alleghany, and that he was in receipt of sub- 
 stantial dividends from these speculative ventures, 
 and Mrs. Wakefield regarded him as a brand 
 plucked from the burning, a sinner who had 
 yielded to temptation and then turned back to 
 the straight and narrow path. Poor woman, 
 her experiences had been so limited and her life 
 so humdrum, that a distinction between a real 
 and a sham reform was beyond her judgment. 
 
 [183]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 In truth she had no desire to play the judge. 
 She felt herself outside of the currents of the 
 camp. Her husband treated her as a stranger; 
 with an inward resentment she understood that 
 her daughter had usurped her place in his affec- 
 tions, not comprehending that her invalidism had 
 prevented her from taking active steps to inter- 
 fere, or that Dot had unselfishly assumed the 
 burden. The mine and its outpouring of wealth 
 was most unattractive; in fact, she almost hated 
 it, for with feminine inconsistency, to it she 
 ascribed the misfortune that clouded her hus- 
 band's brain. 
 
 The monotonous days had passed almost with- 
 out notice as to external impressions. The in- 
 imitable mountains, the deep gorges, the wonder- 
 ful atmosphere, with their soothing that had 
 brought back health and should have renewed 
 the joy of living, gave her no pleasure. Her 
 soul was filled with discontent, and she be- 
 came possessed with a desire to get away 
 from it all. Even Ruth jarred on her nerves; 
 Ruth, who in her new awakening was bloom- 
 ing like a fresh if somewhat matured rose, 
 and could not understand why in this to her 
 well-ordered world one should give way to 
 
 [184]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 the "hypos." There had been a time when she 
 had taken a gloomy view of life, but that was 
 before Tex had loomed up large on her horizon. 
 Now she realized that the ways of Providence 
 were strange and past finding out, yet worked 
 for the good of those who trusted and bore up. 
 So she gave well-meant advice to the wife to 
 "chipper up," for things would come out all 
 right if she only had patience to wait. 
 
 Brant took much the same view, although he 
 contrived to extend his sympathies a little more 
 delicately. He could enter into her feelings 
 with a more perfect understanding, for was he 
 not a lonely spectator, craving friendship denied 
 him, and forced to endure an isolation which he 
 had not contemplated when leaving his old life 
 behind him? Insensibly the two grew closer 
 together and he became her confidant and a 
 sympathizing listener to her fancied troubles. 
 So it came about that his afternoons were passed 
 upon the little porch, and a bond of intimacy 
 was established, innocent enough in its inception, 
 and yet more dangerous than either one antici- 
 pated. The woman, deprived of the affection of 
 her mate by a cruel stroke of fate, and craving 
 a sympathetic pity, found those who should have 
 
 [185]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 given it following their own devices, and it was 
 not strange that she gave to Brant a glimpse 
 of this longing for consolation in her troubles; 
 nor was it more strange that he, at first without 
 any thought of disloyalty or treachery, found in 
 her attitude and weakness a response to his own 
 mental state. 
 
 The summer days began to shorten; the big 
 pines threw longer shadows on the mountain- 
 side; the air grew chill; the frost touched the 
 foliage of the alder trees, and they blazed into 
 yellow; the oak leaves, detached from the 
 branches, sailed through the air and heaped up in 
 the hollows, or scurried in battalions down the 
 slopes. A sharp shower came from the south; 
 the blue haze and smoke that overhung the range 
 disappeared; the dust, stirred up from the 
 brown dry earth by every vagrant wind, turning 
 every twig and blade of grass to a dirty drab, 
 was washed away, and Nature woke up and put 
 on a clean face. For five long months the sun 
 had blazed fiercely, burning all vegetation to a 
 crisp, and then came the first rain. The City of 
 Six welcomed the change, although it meant the 
 near approach of the storms and tempests of 
 winter, the snowfall that would blanket the earth 
 
 [186]
 
 BRANT AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 and close in the little hamlet for a long dreary 
 season. Still, it would not be the complete 
 isolation of the previous winter. A half-dozen 
 prosperous camps had sprung up over the ridge 
 and, by aid of snowshoes, could be reached. Be- 
 sides, the little hamlet had become sufficient to 
 itself. A hundred workers could find resources 
 in the way of amusements that would break the 
 monotony. The town now boasted a post-office 
 and a mail rider who was confident of keeping 
 communication open; and for those who craved 
 more excitement than the sober little camp fur- 
 nished, the county-seat on the river below them 
 was accessible. With its five thousand inhabit- 
 ants and all the accessories of a lively, wide- 
 open, prosperous town gambling-houses, hotels, 
 and even a theatre at Downieville, The City 
 of Six would not be cut off from the world. 
 The miners were an exceptionally steady lot, 
 earning handsome wages, and, barring a few who 
 elected to return to the lower foothills and val- 
 ley, had agreed to stay with the camp. 
 
 Mike with wise forethought had brought in 
 ample supplies during the summer ; many cabins, 
 tight and comfortable, had been built; mine 
 timbers and firewood cut, and all due prepara- 
 
 [187]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tions made for the comfort of the men and the 
 uninterrupted operation of the mine. It was a 
 wonderful claim, and its rich yield gave no pres- 
 ent indication of exhaustion. In six months the 
 gross output had been one hundred and eighty 
 thousand dollars in virgin gold, of which the 
 profit was about seventy per cent a very com- 
 fortable dividend for the quartette of owners 
 and even Mrs. Wakefield felt that life was not 
 all in vain, and that while her burden was heavy 
 there were compensations. 
 
 [188]
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 T N The Downieville Messenger of November 
 7, 1853, a glowing and most enthusiastic de- 
 scription was given of the wedding ceremony 
 which joined Tex and the widow. "Ye editor," 
 as the writer referred to himself, was present and, 
 as the boys remarked, "slung high-falutin' 
 English to the Queen's taste." Tex was referred 
 to as a flower of chivalry, a hero of a hundred 
 battles, a gentleman who had never retreated in 
 the face of an enemy or gone back on a friend, 
 a leading and honored citizen of Sierra County 
 who had crowned a successful career by the cap- 
 ture of one of the loveliest of her sex, or rather 
 had surrendered at discretion to the charms of a 
 lady whose residence at The City of Six had made 
 that camp the envy of all of its neighbors. The 
 writer was equally eloquent over the banquet, 
 "the preparation of which was superintended by 
 the charming bride herself, a fact that made it an 
 occasion when 'Lucullus dined with Lucullus.' ' 
 It was holiday at the camp. Ranee and Mike 
 had scoured the towns round about for every 
 
 [189]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 delicacy that could be found and had even sent 
 to Marysville, sixty miles away, for chickens, 
 turkeys, eggs, and other high-priced luxuries. 
 Besides, there were mountain quail, wild pigeon, 
 grouse, venison, and bear meat, brought in by 
 the mighty hunters of the ridge; and to these 
 were added sundry baskets of champagne, 
 packed over from Forest City, Alleghany, and 
 Moore's Flat Brant's contribution to the 
 occasion. 
 
 The Chinese cook, who under the tuition of 
 Mrs. Ruth had developed into a high-class artist, 
 had called half a dozen of his countrymen to his 
 aid and bossed the kitchen with great skill and 
 dignity. 
 
 "Me likee Missy Wakefield, Missy Dot, me 
 mo' likee Missy Luth. Melican man he foolee 
 me; Missy L.uth she talkee little, he no foolee 
 any mo '. Now she mally Tex, he belly good man, 
 he no likee she cook. Tong boss, one bundled 
 dolla hap me catch, what fo' wanta betta job?" 
 
 Just what he said to his yellow-skinned retinue 
 was beyond ken, but he drilled them assiduously 
 in their duties and duly impressed upon them the 
 importance of the event. Even the grinning 
 squaws had developed a latent energy and had 
 
 [190]
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 put in the previous week in an orgy of clothes- 
 washing, for every man jack in the camp felt it 
 was due to Mrs. Ruth that a white shirt should 
 be donned in her honor, and to their credit be it 
 said that not one of them grumbled over what 
 to the majority was a distasteful concession. 
 
 Dot, conspiring with Ranee, had looked after 
 the trousseau and had furnished him with a list 
 which, duly filled at the "Bay," had resulted in a 
 combination of lace, silk, and other tasty adorn- 
 ments that swelled Ruth's heart with pride. 
 
 As for Tex, Ranee, at his pleading request, 
 had undertaken his outfit, and Rosenstern over 
 at the Flat imported from "Frisco" the finest 
 black broadcloth suit procurable. 
 
 "My frient, there isn't a sport in the State 
 that's got a better one; I give you mine honor, 
 it cost me a hundred and twenty dollars, and my 
 brudder let me have it at wholesale price." 
 
 Tex shied at the white gloves and begged to 
 be let off; but Ranee was inexorable, and poor 
 Tex had a bad half -hour encasing his big hands 
 in them. 
 
 "'It's the first pair of kids I ever put on," 
 he dolefully remarked, "and it will be the last; 
 buckskin is good enough for me." 
 
 [191]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 There had been one distressing incident that 
 for a time threatened to put a damper on the 
 festivities. Wakefield, who had been listlessly 
 lounging around taking no particular notice of 
 the event, made a misstep off the porch of 
 the boarding-house, and falling, struck his head 
 heavily on a projecting stone step. The blow 
 knocked him insensible, and the blood trickled 
 down over his face from a deep scalp wound. 
 All was confusion for a moment; but willing 
 hands picked him up, bore him to the cabin, 
 where he shortly revived, although remaining 
 somewhat dazed from the shock. As soon as it 
 was ascertained that it was not a serious accident, 
 the wound was bound up, and he insisted upon 
 being left alone, or rather in company with Dot, 
 and attention was again turned to the business 
 in hand. 
 
 The old cabin had been utilized as a dressing- 
 room, and Ranee was acting as valet. He noted 
 Tex shyly draw forth a pillow-case from under 
 the bunk and pull out a shirt. 
 
 "Here, let me see that. Where did you get it? 
 Well, I '11 be damned," he remarked, as he took 
 it away from the embarrassed Tex and held it 
 up to the light. It was an immaculate garment, 
 
 [192]
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 a work of art, plaited and tucked and finely 
 stitched, and certainly not ready-made. 
 
 "Oh, quit yer foolishness; she made it and a 
 half a dozen more like it. Say, Ranee, you don't 
 think she '11 want me to wear this kind of thing 
 all the time, do you? Once in a while, of course, 
 at a wedding or a funeral maybe, but what does 
 a man want with half a dozen? Ranee, she has 
 done nothing but measure and measure and fit 
 and fit for two months past, until I am clear 
 worn out. I 'm damned if I 'd 'a stood it from 
 any other woman on this yere earth." 
 
 "And such is the power of love," laughed 
 Ranee. "That's the matrimonial yoke, the 
 badge of servitude, and you're her slave. Tex, 
 she '11 wind you around her little finger, and the 
 funny part of it is, you'll like it." 
 
 "Maybe," sighed Tex, "but I reckon she'll 
 ease up a little after we're married." Then he 
 braced up with the remark, "Well, derned if 
 she isn't worth it." 
 
 A preacher of the Methodist South persuasion 
 had been brought over from Forest City; a mes- 
 sage came that the bride was waiting, and Ranee 
 escorted Tex to the Wakefield porch, where the 
 ceremony was to take place and where Mrs. 
 
 [193]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Wakefield and Dot, Brant, and the editor were 
 waiting, the rest of the camp standing around 
 in the foreground. They were an interesting 
 couple; Ruth the picture of happiness, and Tex 
 beaming with pleasure, except when Ranee whis- 
 pered some imperative instruction, such as "Take 
 your hands out of your pockets!" "Let your 
 gloves alone!" "Hold up your head and be a 
 man!" "Don't paw around for the ring." 
 
 The few simple words were soon said, and the 
 wedded pair were overwhelmed with congratula- 
 tions. Ranee duly claimed the privilege of 
 kissing the bride, to which she blushingly yielded ; 
 and then came an incident that astonished and 
 startled the on-lookers. Wakefield, who had sat 
 at the end of the porch silent and grim as usual, 
 walked over to the couple, extended a hand to each 
 and said, slowly and sanely, " He is a good man, 
 and you are a good woman ; I know you will both 
 be happy," and then retreated, taking the path 
 to the pines. Mrs. Wakefield sprang excitedly 
 to intercept him, but he passed her by without 
 notice. Dot ran after him; he paused, took her 
 hand, and they went away together, followed by 
 the wondering glances of the assembled crowd, 
 who realized that some change had come over the 
 
 [194]
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 stricken man. Mrs. Wakefield broke into tears, 
 started to follow, but was restrained by Brant. 
 "Better let him alone for a time. Don't you see 
 how he ignored you," he whispered, "and how 
 he scowled at me as he went by?" and she obeyed 
 his suggestion. It was rather a trying moment, 
 but Mike came to the rescue. "Let's get 'em 
 to the dinner," he urged Ranee; and so they 
 were bidden to the feast, and the father and 
 daughter disappeared on the path over the 
 plateau. 
 
 The old boarding-house had been transformed 
 into a greenhouse, the walls and ceilings hidden 
 with clusters of pine sprays, and the table set 
 apart for the bridal party overhung with an 
 American flag. Various appropriate sentiments 
 were tacked to the branches, such as, "Health 
 and Prosperity to Mr. and Mrs. Potter"; "In 
 Union there is Happiness"; "Eat, drink and 
 be merry, for to-morrow it may be your turn"; 
 and others equally pointed. 
 
 Tong and his trained assistants loaded the 
 tables with the toothsome viands, the bottles of 
 wine popped as the corks were drawn, teacups 
 were filled there were no glasses in the place, 
 and all followed Ranee's lead as he rose and 
 
 [195]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 toasted the wedded pair. He was witty and 
 eloquent as he dwelt on the esteem and affection 
 in which the couple were held, feelingly lavish 
 in invoking the blessings which they deserved, 
 and the crowd nearly raised the roof in its vocifer- 
 ous endorsements of his sentiments. There were 
 loud calls for a response, but Tex only grinned 
 and bowed, and Ruth bubbled over with glee, 
 urging her bashful spouse to get on his feet. 
 "For mercy's sake, say something," she cried. 
 "I hope you ain't struck dumb"; and Ranee and 
 Mike fairly lifted him out of his chair. Great 
 beads of perspiration stood on his face, he awk- 
 wardly shuffled from one foot to another, and 
 finally stammered out: 
 
 "Boys, I reckon I 'd rather ride the worst mus- 
 tang ever raised in Texas than try to make a 
 speech. I have n't got Ranee's gift of gab ; we were 
 raised different, and language don't come spon- 
 taneous; but I'm a powerful happy man, and 
 I've got reasons, [here he looked lovingly at 
 Ruth] the best of reasons, for a good woman 
 has took pity on me and roped me into the cor- 
 ral. I'm out of the band of wild cattle, and 
 I'll soon be tame enough to feed out of the 
 hand. No more roving the plains for me, for 
 
 [198]
 
 As Ranee rose and toasted the wedded pair.
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 we reckon to have a range of our own, and when 
 we do, you'll always find the bars down and a 
 welcome when you ride in." Tex sat down amid 
 the shouts of approval that followed his char- 
 acteristic speech. 
 
 Then there were yells for Mike, and that 
 worthy responded: 
 
 "You've had the extrames, the illigant and 
 flowery sintinces that Mr. Poole took up like a 
 sponge when he wint to college, and the native 
 speech that my friend Tex picked up on the 
 border; now you want the Irish of it. I want 
 to say to yez that ye were an uncivilized lot of 
 haythen until Mrs. Ruth, God bless her! took 
 pity on you and learned ye manners. She 's 
 made a dacent camp of The City of Six ; a f oine 
 wife she will make for a dacent man although 
 I look upon it as undacent for him to talk about 
 being 'roped into' the marriage state, for, Hiven 
 knows, he 's been bawling outside the fence like 
 a sick calf for the past six months, begging to 
 be let in; and lucky he was, for he was only a 
 maverick, as they say in Texas. We are proud 
 of them both and lonely we will be whin, as I 
 understond is their future intintion, they lave the 
 glorious mountains, the pure strames, and the 
 
 [197]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 pine forests of Sierra, to take up their risidence 
 in a cow country, where there is no hump in the 
 earth, rivers run stagnant, and not a tree to the 
 square mile of country. Maybe we can persuade 
 thim to stay until the ould mine plays out. May 
 it be a year before that happens! And now I 
 want to tinder a little token that the byes have 
 delegated me to presint in honor of the event. 
 Bring them in, you saffron-colored gossoon!" 
 Tong trotted out and returned, bearing a silver 
 box chased with scrolls and fretwork and the 
 initials of the bride. 
 
 Opening it, Mike picked out gingerly a mas- 
 sive necklace of exquisite design and workman- 
 ship, to which hung a pendant encrusted with 
 seed pearls with a beautiful bronze pearl in the 
 centre, the work of an East Indian jeweller, 
 a master of his art. He handed it to Ruth, 
 who for the first time in her life was speechless. 
 Tears of sentiment and pleasure dimmed her 
 eyes as she struggled to overcome her emotion, 
 and she finally gasped out, "Oh, how good you 
 all are!" Her heart went out to the rough men 
 that she had bossed and scolded and cared for, 
 and they were as pleased as a lot of happy 
 children. 
 
 [198]
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 Then Tong staggered in under the burden of 
 a Mexican saddle and bridle, the gift that had 
 been chosen for the groom. It was one of those 
 wonderful affairs affected by the Mexican dandy, 
 the saddle pommel sheathed in beaten silver, and 
 at least two hundred Mexican dollars riveted to 
 the stamped leather coverings; the bridle reins 
 and reata of the finest braided hair, and the 
 whole outfit an equipment that would serve to 
 turn a native vaquero green with envy. The 
 miners had sent a messenger to Santa Barbara 
 with orders and coin to get the best to be had, 
 and he had succeeded in his mission. Again, 
 Tex responded briefly, echoing his wife's words, 
 "How good you are, boys!" and the formal part 
 of the feast was over. 
 
 For men of temperate habits, they did full 
 justice to the champagne, which sparkled and 
 bubbled in the plebeian teacups, and was enjoyed 
 with as much zest as if served in finest crystal 
 goblets; they joked and bantered, and as the 
 minutes slipped away, at last grew uproarious; 
 at which stage the wedded pair quietly retired 
 and sought their modest quarters, leaving the 
 roisterers to their gayety. 
 
 There was one couple who took but little part 
 
 [199]
 
 in the merriment. Mrs. Wakefield was dis- 
 traught and dazed. The sane words of con- 
 gratulation spoken by her husband, his abrupt 
 withdrawal from the scene, and his prolonged 
 absence with Dot, filled her heart with a vague 
 and oppressive terror, while Brant sat as im- 
 passive and emotionless as a sphinx. 
 
 "What ails them?" asked Mike of Ranee, 
 "sure, one would think it was a funeral instid of 
 a weddin' from the way they behave." 
 
 "Oh, I suppose she is thinking of the difference 
 between Tex and her husband," replied Ranee, 
 as he watched Brant and the woman make their 
 exit, although the explanation did not seem to 
 satisfy him, and it was a perplexed and troubled 
 gaze that followed the retreating pair. He had 
 paid no attention to the growing intimacy be- 
 tween them, given it no thought; but now he 
 remembered that they had been practically left 
 alone, and he recalled that in his interest in the 
 daughter he had neglected the mother and de- 
 serted his quondam friend. It came to his 
 memory that in the past months he had noticed 
 them occupying the porch together, and he won- 
 dered. "Oh, damn it, what a fool I am," he 
 muttered impatiently, struggling, as he stepped 
 
 [200]
 
 A WEDDING IN HIGH LIFE 
 
 out of doors and walked toward the office, to 
 dismiss the disloyal thoughts from his mind. 
 He had not gained the threshold when Dot came 
 fluttering out of the twilight, sobbing and gasp- 
 ing with incoherent speech. 
 
 [201]
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 WAKEFIELD IS HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 H, Ranee, dear Ranee!" she cried, tottering 
 into his outstretched arms a thrill 
 pierced him as the affectionate call smote his 
 ear, "come with me quick. Father is waiting 
 for you at the spring, and he is no more crazy 
 than you are." 
 
 Ranee stroked her hair, bent down and kissed 
 her cheek, the first liberty he had permitted him- 
 self to take, and there was no need of words, 
 they both understood. As says the proverb, 
 "Love goes where it is sent." If the summer 
 had been a dream of paradise, this moment was 
 the conscious awakening to its reality; and these 
 two souls began the first chapter of the old story 
 to which their wood wanderings had been the 
 preface. Whatever this glimpse into each other's 
 hearts might signify to either or both, the ex- 
 planation had to be postponed as the more mo- 
 mentous fact of the father's changed mental 
 condition demanded their immediate attention. 
 
 Dot had left him among the pines while she 
 
 [202]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 hurried away to find Ranee and her newborn 
 joy was tempered with the fear that it was but 
 a momentary flickering of reason and that he 
 would have lapsed into his unbalanced state be- 
 fore her return. Grasping Ranee's hand, which 
 held hers with loving pressure, they sped back, 
 to find him standing and gazing with a puz- 
 zled look toward the cluster of houses on the 
 plateau, listening intently to the sounds of merry- 
 making that echoed through the pines. 
 
 "What is it, Dorothea, why are you crying?" 
 he asked as his daughter flung herself upon his 
 breast, sobbing with joy; "Ranee," turning to 
 his partner, "what does it mean?" 
 
 "It means that you have come back to us, 
 thank God! our old Dean, I hope," joyfully 
 answered Ranee, who felt that indeed Wakefield 
 had found his way to light and reason. 
 
 There was a subtle but convincing change in 
 his voice and bearing that left no doubt in 
 Ranee's mind that he had indeed recrossed the 
 border land to sanity and that his hallucinations 
 had vanished. And it came to him that it was 
 an augury of his own happiness, for although 
 no word had been spoken, no vows pledged, he 
 felt that Dot was his own; and with this knowl- 
 
 [203]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 edge what could be more auspicious than this 
 seeming miracle that brushed away the mists be- 
 fogging Wakefield's brain the only shadow 
 on their mutual love? 
 
 "Tell me, Ranee," implored Wakefield, "what 
 is it? I know I have been in trouble, but how 
 and where? When did I get back here? You 
 met me at San Francisco when the steamer 
 arrived; I thought we were at the hotel," and he 
 drew his hand across his forehead as if to wipe 
 the tangle away, and looked beseechingly at 
 Ranee and Dot for an explanation. 
 
 "Sit down, pard, and we will explain," replied 
 Ranee. "There has been a little mix-up, but I 
 reckon it is all over with now. You 're at The 
 City of Six with your wife and Dot, Mike and 
 Tex and Ruth. You don't know Ruth; she's 
 Mrs. Tex now. There has been a wedding in the 
 camp and that 's what is going on down there." 
 
 "My wife?" and his face took on a serious 
 expression. "Where is she? Has anything hap- 
 pened to her? She was sick; I have had a bad 
 dream; she was in trouble and was going away 
 from me." 
 
 "Easy," said Ranee soothingly, "you have got 
 your senses back again that's the main thing; 
 
 [204]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 your wife is all right and is waiting for you down 
 at your house, and there will be double rejoicing 
 when we go back. But it is better that you 
 should know that you have been wandering away 
 from us all for months that is, in your mind 
 and taken up with a chap called Shakespeare, 
 whom I hope you will now leave in the lurch. 
 I am sure that the wife, Dot, Mike, and myself 
 will be better companions." 
 
 "I don't know what you are driving at about 
 Shakespeare," retorted Wakefield. "What has 
 he got to do with the case ? that is, if you mean 
 the Shakespeare who wrote the plays. I remem- 
 ber that we used to read them together in the old 
 cabin before I went home, but how does he in- 
 terest me, and what has he to do with my 
 affairs?" 
 
 "He has this much to do," responded Ranee, 
 "that for six months you have flung him at our 
 heads at all times and on all occasions; that I 
 have been Romeo, and Orlando, Mercutio, and 
 Hamlet; Dot has been appealed to as Rosalind, 
 Beatrice, and Juliet; your wife as Desdemona 
 and Imogene; and one poor fellow, who is a 
 stranger to you, you have be-plagued with the 
 role of lago. You have the text by heart; you 
 
 [205]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 know that, don't you? 'Like sweet bells jangled 
 and out of tune.' ' 
 
 Wakefield gave him a puzzled look. "Ranee, 
 explain it all; it seems to me that if any one is 
 out of his mind, it is you." 
 
 Briefly, Ranee went over the past, beginning 
 with the symptoms as they first appeared on his 
 arrival at the Bay, of Wakefield's erratic words 
 and actions, the role that Shakespeare had played 
 the grief of his friends, the restoration to 
 health of his wife, the constant attendance of Dot 
 and himself, the fortunes of the camp, the 
 romance of Tex and Ruth, to all of which Wake- 
 field listened wonderingly and almost incredu- 
 lously. Those days were a blank in his life, 
 Shakespeare a myth he could not recall a line 
 to memory; it was as if he had awakened from 
 a long sleep with a semi-consciousness that there 
 had been a disturbing and oppressive nightmare, 
 and the soul of the man wondered at the relation. 
 It was the old, sober-minded, practical Wake- 
 field that, hand in hand with his daughter and 
 arm around Ranee's neck, walked along the path 
 and approached the crowded porch of the house 
 that was his own, and yet he knew it not. His 
 wife fluttered down the steps, struggling emo- 
 
 [206]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 tions possessing her fear, restraint, timidity, 
 which culminated in an hysterical outburst as she 
 was folded in his arms. To the onlookers it was 
 a sacred moment, and with an understanding 
 that greeting and congratulations best be de- 
 ferred they made way for the couple to enter 
 their dwelling. What passed between man and 
 wife at this supreme moment was never revealed 
 or referred to by either; but it is to be presumed 
 that it was a happy reunion. 
 
 Mike, Tex, and Ruth eageily questioned Ranee 
 and Dot and rejoiced over the strange and sud- 
 den return to them of the old Wakefield. 
 
 "Sure, if the old man has got his wits again 
 ye can take your holiday and go a honeymooning 
 after that cattle ranch," said Mike banteringly 
 to Tex and the bride, who had returned to meet 
 Wakefield. "It's a substitute he'll be, and a 
 good one if he's the same as he was before he 
 took up with Mr. Shakespeare. I've not much 
 use for thim poets, anyhow. Good-night to you, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Potter, it 's sleepy you must be, 
 but think of the good you've done. It's many 
 a man laves his sinses behind him when he gets 
 married, but here you've brought a good man 
 back to his." 
 
 [207]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 The happy pair, laughing at Mike's banter, 
 retired, and he turned to Ranee for a chat; but 
 Ranee had other business in hand. 
 
 "I'll meet you at the office directly, Mike; I 
 want to say something to Miss Wakefield." 
 
 Mike glanced at Dot's beaming face, whistled, 
 and turned on his heel. 
 
 "Say something to Miss Wakefield, is it? 
 What have you been doing for months past but 
 saying something to her? Well, she's a foine 
 girl and I do be hoping that it is the proper 
 spache you '11 whisper to her. I 'm a-thinking 
 that there will be another wedding in The City 
 of Six before long." 
 
 What Ranee said to the blushing girl has been 
 said over and over since the creation; and yet 
 under the stars they told each other the old story, 
 yet so new, so novel to them, and, when they 
 parted, Dot trembling with new-found happiness, 
 and Ranee rilled with a great joy, they both dis- 
 dained the belief that their experience was the 
 most frequent and commonplace of happenings. 
 
 Leaving the girl at her door with a good-night 
 and a salute that fully persuaded her that the 
 place was paradise after all, Ranee made his way 
 
 [208]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 to the office, where Mike was awaiting him to 
 discuss the change in affairs. 
 
 "Do you belave that the ould man and Shakes- 
 peare have bade each other good-bye?" was 
 Mike's first question. 
 
 Ranee told of Wakefield's utter forgetfulness 
 of the immortal bard and his works, his apparent 
 recovery, and his recollection of his old life up to 
 a certain point, and expressed his belief that the 
 cure was permanent. 
 
 "Sure, if the twist is out of his head, it's 
 plased I am, for I liked him amazingly and it 's 
 wearied I have been of being called out of me 
 name. It's Michael Cassio I've stood for to 
 him for months gone, and it 's Mike Donovan I 
 want to be, for that will mane that he will be 
 ready to take hold and help run the property. 
 Marriage will spile Tex until he becomes saisoned, 
 and that will take the winter. Let him go buy 
 his cattle ranch and come back when love's young 
 drame is over. But, Ranee, there 's one man in 
 the camp that's not filled too full with joy. 
 What is it ails your sporting friend Mr. Brant? 
 A blacker-looking man I 've never seen than him 
 since Miss Dot came with the joyful news; and 
 
 [209]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the wife was n't the happiest woman in the camp 
 by no manner of means." 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded Ranee. 
 "Why should he look black, or the wife be un- 
 happy?" 
 
 "I mane nothing, Ranee, except what I have 
 seen. What with your walks and your talks and 
 your doddering around with the ould man and 
 the girl, it's little else you've noticed. You all 
 seem to have forgot that there was an interesting 
 invalid that had some slight demand on her 
 daughter's time as well as yersilf and her crazy 
 father; if you didn't, Brant did, and it's his best 
 he has been doing to console her for the want of 
 attintion she 's had from the rest of you." 
 
 " You 're not hinting, Mike, that there is any- 
 thing wrong you can't mean that?" exclaimed 
 Ranee. 
 
 "I nather said it nor hinted it," retorted Mike, 
 "but I do know that they have been planted on 
 the porch together every day for a long time 
 past, that the camp 's been talking, and I broke 
 one man's head for his impidence. I'm saying 
 nothing, Ranee, except to my frind, and that's 
 you; but Mr. Brant is not overly plased with 
 the developments of this night; and the words 
 
 [210]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 that he said to her, that I could n't help hearing, 
 don't have the right sort of a sound. ' Kape your 
 sinses and don't betray yersilf, darlint.' His 
 darlint, and she a married woman! He should 
 have a hint that it is glad to see his back we will 
 be." 
 
 Ranee was startled both at the earnestness of 
 his friend and the seeming truthfulness of his 
 remarks. Wrapped up in his own romance, he 
 recalled that he had seen but little of Mrs. Wake- 
 field or Brant for some time and had paid no 
 attention to either of them. He was aware that 
 Dot was prejudiced against the intruder and had 
 shunned him, and that Wakefield himself had 
 held Brant in utter detestation. This he had at- 
 tributed to one of his mad freaks. Now he 
 recalled a hundred trivial circumstances that in 
 the light of Mike's words gave some justification 
 to them, although, after all, the mere open inti- 
 macy was no proof of any wrongdoing, and so 
 he argued with Mike and to himself; and Mike 
 acquiesced, adding, 
 
 "Anyway, the ould man is not poetry-struck 
 any longer and it's able he is to look after his 
 own affairs. I don't like your frind very well 
 mesilf. He's as cold-hearted as the snow in the 
 
 [211]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 gulch ; and while he 's straight enough in a busi- 
 ness way, I would as soon have a snake for a 
 partner. Mind ye, Ranee, the man that can't 
 make frinds with a dog, give him the go-by. 
 Did ye ever see Jack wag his tail or put on a glad 
 look when Brant Phillips was by? Ye did not." 
 
 Jack was the dog, almost forgotten in the 
 story, whose rescue had introduced Brant to 
 Ranee's acquaintance. He had grown plump 
 and lazy in his new home and by his amiable and 
 persuasive ways had won the affection of the 
 whole camp. Even Ruth tolerated and had been 
 known to pet him, but he had singled out Mike 
 and Ranee as the two to whom he owed allegiance 
 and gave them a devoted loyalty. He was lying 
 in front of the office fire during the conversation 
 and seemed to know that he was called on the 
 witness stand, for he got up and thrust his nose 
 into Mike's fist and gazed at him with his intel- 
 ligent eyes, as if to sustain Mike's charge. 
 
 "It 's a good judge of character you are, Jack, 
 and it's no use ye have for the 'sport'; but by 
 that same token ye 're an ungrateful baste, as 
 he did just as much to protect ye as Mr. Ranee. 
 It 's a fact I 'm telling ye, Ranee ; coax as he may 
 with frindly words or what else, it's not a bite 
 
 [212]
 
 WAKEFIELD HIMSELF AGAIN 
 
 that Jack will take from his hand, or a wag of 
 the tail he '11 give him in spite of what he may do. 
 Well, never mind me suspicions! The ould man 
 is himself again and that will end the foolishness, 
 anyway. It's a disagreeable subject; and I'm 
 thinking ye have a more pleasant one occupying 
 your mind. Ranee, a nicer girl never trod down 
 a wild flower on the mountain ; and I hope I 'm 
 not too pravious in extinding me congratulations. 
 I love ye as if ye were me own bye, and I want 
 to see ye as happy as ye desarve to be." 
 
 A grip of the hand was Ranee's reply, and he 
 did not deny that Mike had guessed their secret. 
 
 It had been an eventful day in The City of Six 
 and its principals were stirred to the depths by 
 the various happenings. There was but one who 
 did not fully partake in the added sum of hap- 
 piness that had come to so many, and she, who 
 should have been the most pleased of all, sat by 
 her husband's side, wondering what the future 
 had in store for her. 
 
 [213]
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 rpHE day succeeding the wedding the camp 
 resumed its wonted routine. The day shift 
 partook of their early breakfast with much dis- 
 cussion and comment on the events of the pre- 
 vious day. 
 
 "It about broke even," sarcastically remarked 
 a cynical miner, "one man came to his senses and 
 another lost his," it being the speaker's view that 
 marriage was indicative of a weak mind ; but this 
 met with general rebuke, as it was considered a 
 reflection on Mrs. Ruth. 
 
 "Don't fool yourself with any such idea, 
 young man," retorted another of the crowd; 
 "there is nothing looney about Tex. It 's good 
 judgment he showed when he persuaded the land- 
 lady to share his fortunes, and you will think so 
 when you change to China grub. I wonder if 
 Wakefield has really gotten over his looney 
 streak; if he has, there will be another boss to 
 reckon with, and it won't be at the mine only. 
 I should n't be surprised if Black Brant [the 
 
 [214]
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 nickname bestowed on Phillips by the men] got 
 a notice to find some other porch to loaf on." 
 
 The chatter showed that the camp had noted 
 the intimacy and were inclined to gossip, but the 
 entrance of Ranee and Mike put an end to it and 
 the men dispersed to their work. 
 
 "I'm as nervous as a cat," said Mike to his 
 comrade, "and it's a dread I have of meeting 
 the ould man this morning. If he misnames me 
 'Michael Cassio,' who you tell me was no Irish- 
 man at all but a furriner from Italy, then I'll 
 despair of him." 
 
 "Let us hope for the best," laughed Ranee. 
 "Here he comes with Miss Dorothea, and she 
 would n't be smiling like that if he had gone back 
 on himself again." 
 
 "Miss Dorothea, is it? How formal ye are this 
 morning! But ye have an eye for the smile on 
 her face. I trust ye will never see it otherwise." 
 
 With this pious wish Mike flung the door open 
 and greeted the pair. 
 
 "It's as pretty as a mountain quail ye 're 
 looking, Miss Dorothea"; and to the old man, 
 shaking Wakefield's proffered hand, "Are ye 
 finding yersilf all right this day?" 
 
 It needed no assurance that he was. The va- 
 
 [215]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 cant, listless look had disappeared, and the ani- 
 mation and evident pleasurable interest with 
 which he met his comrades betokened that he had 
 come to his own again. He was quite overcome 
 with emotion, for although his memory was at 
 fault, almost a complete blank for the past six 
 months, he realized that his wits had been 
 wandering, and the joy of recovery was tempered 
 with the apprehension that he might again cross 
 the border-land. 
 
 " I 'm all right, Mike, and know what has hap- 
 pened. Dot has told me all about it, but the 
 cause of it all is a mystery. There have been 
 moments when I knew you and I would try to 
 tell you that I was not crazy; then you would 
 fade away out of my mind and all sorts of queer 
 fancies take possession of me. Last night sud- 
 denly, while sitting with Dot at the spring, the 
 cloud seemed to roll away, my old life came back 
 to me as clear as the day I left the camp, and 
 although I was confused and puzzled and had to 
 grope to get my bearings, I realized that I was 
 back in The City of Six; and then Ranee came 
 with Dot. Well, you know the rest." 
 
 Standing in the doorway looking at the sur- 
 roundings, he continued: 
 
 [16]
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 "Mike, this is not the place that I left behind 
 last spring. Then it was only a couple of cabins, 
 now it is a town. Have they struck new diggings 
 besides our old claim?" 
 
 "It's a lot you have to see," answered Mike. 
 "There is no new diggings except the ould one. 
 You 're a man of property and you are making 
 money while you slape. It 's a thousand dollars 
 a day the mine is good for, and there's many a 
 day's work in it yet. Get your breakfast and we 
 will look it over. Is the wife a-coming? I 'm 
 thinking that Mr. and Mrs. Potter will have a 
 late meal this morning." 
 
 Dot answered that her mother was not feeling 
 well and that she would take up some tea and 
 toast to her later, and they sat down to the table. 
 Tong had prepared an appetizing meal and was 
 bustling around, bringing in various dishes and 
 watching to see if full justice was done to the 
 contents. 
 
 "This is my successor," said Ranee, "a pupil 
 of Mrs. Ruth, and, as she has abdicated, the cock 
 of the walk henceforth." 
 
 Tong grinned. "Mistel Lance, he likee joke; 
 allee same he belly good man. Now, me kitchen 
 boss, me chief cook. Missy Luth, she go 
 
 [217]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 away, I get bundled dolla hap a month. She 
 teachee me; allee men likee my glub." With 
 which tribute to his own talents Tong retired to 
 the kitchen to boss his two assistants, Chinamen 
 whom he had brought to the camp to partake of 
 its fatness. 
 
 "And Mrs. Potter, what of her? She seems 
 to be quite a new acquisition and quite an im- 
 portant member of the community," queried 
 Wakefield. 
 
 Ranee briefly related the circumstances attend- 
 ing Ruth's coming, her idiosyncrasies, her good 
 heart, her enslavement of Tex, culminating in the 
 wedding of the previous day, a date promising 
 to be still more notable in the annals of the camp 
 by the disappearance of Wakefield's malady. 
 The relation was brought to a close by the com- 
 ing of Mr. and Mrs. Potter to their morning 
 meal. 
 
 They were welcomed by just one little jibe 
 from Mike. "It's late ye are to breakfast this 
 morning, Tex, and you that were always so early 
 a riser"; but this passed unnoticed in the hearty 
 greetings between Tex and "the old man." It 
 was really pathetic when the fact was taken into 
 consideration that they had met daily for months 
 
 [218]
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 past, but all the members of the party had the 
 tact not to allude to it. Then Tex introduced 
 Mrs. Potter, a softened, blooming Ruth, who 
 in her new-found happiness, was pleased that 
 another wife, as she believed, was rejoicing in the 
 return to her arms of an estranged loved one. 
 
 Learning of Mrs. Wakefield's indisposition, 
 Ruth insisted on preparing the tea and toast and 
 going with Dot to the house, leaving the men to 
 discuss the situation. As Mike pulled out a plug 
 of tobacco, cut off a pipeful and deliberately 
 filled and lighted it, Wakefield regarded him 
 enviously and finally broke out, 
 
 "Mike, have you another one? It seems as if I 
 hadn't had a smoke for a year." 
 
 "I '11 get you mine," said Tex. " I have quit." 
 
 "Since when?" retorted Ranee. "You were 
 smoking yesterday." 
 
 Tex turned red and stammered. "Well, you 
 see, Ruth reckons it isn't good for my health, 
 says it 's a wasteful habit, and she does n't like 
 the smell of an old pipe. Maybe she's right," 
 regarding Mike wistfully as he blew out clouds 
 of vapor from his dhudeen. 
 
 "Tex," said Ranee solemnly, "you don't mean 
 that you are going to lie down this early in the 
 
 [219]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 game. I've puffed cigars under her nose ever 
 since I brought her to the camp, and she never 
 sniffed once. Insist on your privileges or you are 
 a goner. The next thing, she will make you put 
 on a clean shirt every morning, forbid you asso- 
 ciating with Mike and me for fear it will hurt 
 your morals; in fact, Tex, she will wear the 
 breeches, and there is an end to your liberty." 
 
 "Oh, shut up," retorted Tex. "What do you 
 know about women, anyway? Smoking gives her 
 a headache, and you don't suppose I am mean 
 enough to make her sick, but ," here his good 
 resolutions melted in the air, "I can smoke out- 
 doors, she can't have any objection to that." 
 Then away he went to the cabin, returning 
 quickly with two black clay pipes and a slab of 
 blackstrap, and shortly the incense of the weed 
 loaded the atmosphere. Tex breathed a sigh of 
 relief and mentally resolved that he would make 
 a stand for the continuance of the habit; Wake- 
 field declared that a whiff of tobacco was the one 
 thing needed to complete his contentment; Mike 
 regarded them both quizzically, and Ranee, who 
 had taken to cigars, flicked the ashes off the end 
 of one and settled down to posting Wakefield 
 on the growth and progress of The City of Six 
 
 [220]
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 during the summer, a story to which the Dean 
 eagerly listened. 
 
 "You don't know how anxious I am to get 
 to the old work again. I have not had a con- 
 tented moment since I turned my back on it last 
 spring," Wakefield said. "Maybe I 'm muscle- 
 bound, but I want to grasp a pick once more; 
 you know I did pretty good work in Slug 
 Canyon." 
 
 "It's no pick-handling you'll do," retorted 
 Mike. "We 're hiring men to do the hard work; 
 there's ninety of 'em living here at prisint. If 
 you're going to stay here, you'll officiate as a 
 boss and help me out wid me duties. I'm ex- 
 pecting to lose our frind Tex, who 's draining 
 of ranches and cattle and is going down into the 
 cow counties to take up with the malaria and 
 mosquitoes. Virgin goold don't seem to have any 
 attraction for him at prisint." 
 
 "Yes, but I'm coming back," replied Tex; 
 "we are only going for a vacation and to make 
 an investment in a business that I like and was 
 brought up to." 
 
 "Yes, and you'll be needing another vacation 
 by the time you Ve found it, and more money to 
 put into it. Bafe is a good thing to ate, and 
 
 [221]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 maybe it 's a good thing to raise ; but I want none 
 of it, so long as the mountains are full of goold 
 to be had for the digging. Anyhow, the ould 
 man has more sinse than to be longing after the 
 delights of a flat country with only one tree to 
 the square mile, and that a dwarf." 
 
 "I like the mountains," said Wakefield, "and 
 I have made up my mind to stay; that is " 
 and he paused, sighed, and looked meditatively 
 toward his house, "my wife don't seem to be 
 satisfied. It's strange, for she is a well woman 
 and admits that the mountains have cured her. 
 She says she is lonesome, although not for the old 
 home back East. She wants to get away from 
 here, travel in foreign countries; poor little 
 woman, I guess my affliction has been a hard 
 trial for her and given her a distaste for the place. 
 However, it may wear off now that I seem to 
 be all right again; and I am, ain't I, boys?" turn- 
 ing to his comrades for a confirmation of his be- 
 lief in his recovery. 
 
 They assured him that he was, Ranee and 
 Mike exchanging significant glances over his 
 wife's discontent; and then Mike proposed that 
 Wakefield should accompany him on a trip 
 through the mine that he might note the develop- 
 
 [222]
 
 HALF-FORMED PLANS 
 
 ments and realize the importance and wealth of 
 the property. 
 
 Ranee had no inclination to make an under- 
 ground exploration that day and was content to 
 leave Wakefield to Mike's care. The revelation 
 that had come to him the previous evening of the 
 state of Dot's feelings and incidentally of his own, 
 possessed him with joy, and the memory of the 
 loving caress that seemed to be the culmination 
 and natural expression of the girl's happiness over 
 the return of her father's reason still thrilled him 
 as he recalled it. Now he knew that their close 
 association during the summer, their mutual 
 guardianship of the father, their rambles under 
 the pines, and the sense of keen enjoyment from 
 their companionship, marked the budding of an 
 enduring affection, and he wondered that he had 
 delayed his happiness so long. Yet their attitude 
 had been rather that of friendly comrades than 
 lovers, two grown-up children, happy in what the 
 wood gods offered them and content for the time 
 with these gifts. The kiss which he had given Dot 
 when she flung herself into his arms had not been 
 resented, and the giving and taking had brought 
 Ranee on the feet of his understanding. On 
 Mike's shoulders had fallen the burden of manag- 
 
 [223]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ing the property, and although Ranee had been 
 informed and consulted he had not interfered. 
 Dame Fortune had been kind, and without effort 
 he was growing rich, was already independent in 
 a modest way, and his future was secure with ordi- 
 nary care. He had entertained half-formed plans 
 to be carried out when his inclination prompted. 
 He could return to the old plantation, to his peo- 
 ple and his birthplace, and assume a position to 
 which his social standing entitled him, and that 
 without drawing on the family resources; but 
 somehow the prospect did not appeal to him. His 
 horizon had broadened, his aspirations did not 
 include social distinction. Like all the rest who 
 came under the climatic witchery of the foothills, 
 the Sierras held him as in a spell. 
 
 He had thought that after he had paid a duti- 
 ful visit to the old home, he might return, take up 
 his residence at San Francisco, study law, go into 
 politics, or play the dilettante and live on his in- 
 come; but there had been no necessity for defi- 
 nitely settling the question. 
 
 There had been moments when his conscience 
 smote him for his lack of ambitious purpose, 
 although not sufficiently to impel him to more 
 vigorous action. Now, however, there had come 
 into his life a new condition. Doubting not that 
 
 [224]
 
 HALF -FORMED PLANS 
 
 Dot had given herself to him, he pondered 
 seriously upon what the change meant. The syl- 
 van life had its charm, Nature beckoned and re- 
 warded those who crept close to her breast ; but as 
 "Benedick, the married man," there would come 
 duties and responsibilities that must needs divorce 
 him from his paganism. 
 
 These thoughts flitted through his mind, as he 
 sat on the steps awaiting Dot's return and rather 
 impatient of her delay. He did not know of the 
 tumult in the girl's brain, the self-accusation of 
 forwardness, the lack of maidenly modesty with 
 which she charged herself in her involuntary be- 
 trayal of her feelings. What would he think of 
 her literally throwing herself into his arms ? And 
 yet she remembered the quick response and did 
 not doubt her lover. Oh no! she would not seek 
 him; how could she meet him in the daylight, 
 although the sun shone brighter, the birds sang 
 sweeter and vowing that she would not, her feet 
 trod the path that led her to him. Hours to be 
 remembered forever! As they bent their steps 
 over the old trail, what they said, the vows they 
 pledged, of what consequence? Happy pair, to 
 whom the present was unalloyed delight, and the 
 future promised no terrors; for their love made 
 them unafraid. 
 
 [26]
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 \\T AKEFIELD'S interested examination of 
 the mine, his grasp of the methods em- 
 ployed, and his comprehension of the details and 
 improvements indicated beyond doubt his com- 
 plete restoration to sanity. Under Mike's guid- 
 ance he noted the well-timbered tunnel piercing 
 the mountain a distance of eight hundred feet, the 
 prospecting drifts, the methodical breasting out 
 of the gravel, the drilling and blasting that broke 
 up the cemented mass, the track and cars that had 
 displaced the primitive wheelbarrow, the gang of 
 thirty men who toiled through the eight-hour 
 shift and then gave place to an equal number. 
 
 "It 's three gangs we keep at it ; the work niver 
 stops, day nor night," Mike informed his com- 
 panion. "Four dollars a day they get and their 
 board, and we have the pick of miners for that 
 pay. It isn't like the old days when we rocked 
 out Slug Canyon and turned up our noses at any- 
 thing less than an ounce a day apiece. There are 
 a few good claims left yit, but they are mostly 
 down on the river or in the deep diggings along 
 
 [226]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 the ridge. The bars and the gulches are worked 
 out ; river mining is uncertain ; and it takes capital 
 to exploit the dead river channels. How much 
 d 'ye think are our daily expinses ? Six hundred 
 dollars, divil a cint less. I'll show ye what the 
 yield is when we wash up directly. It 's a f oine 
 property, not a better one from Moore's Flat to 
 La Porte, and there 's dozens of 'em in those forty 
 miles ; and if the channel would only keep straight 
 it 's years it would last, but spake low I have 
 me doubts. Did you mind the bend in the last 
 hundred feet in the tunnel? If that keeps up, 
 we '11 soon be running along the side of the moun- 
 tain instid of into it ; and that manes that she will 
 ind up in the canyon beyond. At the worst, how- 
 ever, we have a thousand feet, and that 's good for 
 a year. Besides, I have taken up the ground on 
 the other side of the canyon, have four min a- 
 drifting, and it prospects pretty well. If she 
 jumps, we '11 jump wid it. If ye have grasped the 
 lay of it all and ye want to study it, we '11 go out 
 and clane up the sluices. That 's the mainspring 
 of all of the works." 
 
 A long line of sluice boxes had taken the place 
 of the now obsolete "Long Tom," and Wakefield 
 watched the process with absorbing interest. 
 
 [227]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "It 's only the first four we clane up each day, 
 the rist of them we lave for Saturday; and mind 
 ye, there 's a watchman here day and night to pre- 
 vint somebody else from relieving us of the job. 
 Since the Chinamen have got so thick around the 
 country, it's not safe to lave yer sluices alone; 
 they're born sluice-robbers and there are also 
 white men who make an aisy living in that kind of 
 work. There was a China funeral in Chinatown 
 three weeks ago, and our watchman furnished the 
 corpse; and there's a sport limping around 
 Downieville at the prisint time by raison of a few 
 buckshot that he gathered one dark night retrat- 
 ing down Slug Canyon. Gold is mighty timpting 
 and it 's close chances they '11 take to pick up a few 
 hundred dollars. And that ain't all, ould man. 
 Niver a day passes that we don't lose more or less 
 out of the mine. Ye can't stop it. The gold is 
 coarse, a three or four-dollar nugget is aisy 
 stowed away ; ye can't search 'em and ye 're not 
 surprised when ye hear of one of yer men selling a 
 lot of dust over in Forest City or elsewhere that 
 ye know came out of yer own property. The 
 rogues and thaves one has to contind with laves 
 ye to belave that there is little honesty in this 
 
 [228]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 wicked worrld," and Mike sighed as he hinted at 
 the dishonesty of his fellow-men. 
 
 Removing the riffles one by one, and carefully 
 washing the gravel down to the end of the fourth 
 box, the water was turned off and the few pans of 
 dirt to which it was reduced removed for the last 
 process, the panning out. Wakefield noted the 
 glittering particles sifted through the dirt and 
 black sand, the numerous small nuggets which 
 Mike picked up and put to one side, and the finer 
 gold, the size of grains of wheat, which were 
 finally separated from the gravel. There was a 
 goodly amount ; Mike guessed it at fourteen hun- 
 dred dollars, and he added : 
 
 " That 's what comes out of the mine every day 
 in the week, except Saturday, when we wash up 
 the whole string and get about a thousand dollars 
 more. That 's the fine gold that 's carried by the 
 upper riffles and gets caught by the quicksilver in 
 the lower boxes. Well, ould man, are ye going 
 to stay wid me this winter ? I '11 not lave it mesilf 
 so long as it pays, but it takes an aigle eye and a 
 lot of attintion to kape it running properly. We 
 got along all right till Tex lost his head and his 
 heart to the widdy ; and now nothing will do him 
 
 [229]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 but he must prance away to the lowlands. Ranee 
 is a f oine bye, but a poor boss, and he 's got above 
 it since he threw up cooking and went to meander- 
 ing around the woods with the birds and others 
 of which I 'm thinking ye '11 know more later 
 rather than be doing honest worrk that would aise 
 up on his pard." 
 
 To which Wakefield responded that it was both 
 his inclination and intention to remain at the mine 
 although he could not decide at the moment. 
 
 "The fact is, Mike," he said, "my wife seems 
 to be discontented, and intimates that she does not 
 want to live in The City of Six through the dreary 
 winter. From what she tells me, I must have 
 been a trial to her since she has been here. Out of 
 my head and she ill, it 's got her into a nervous 
 state and she fears that I will have a relapse. It 's 
 a strange thing, Mike, this blank that came into 
 my life and it frightens me when I think of it. 
 Oh, well! it's gone; God grant it won't come 
 back." 
 
 "It will not," said Mike stoutly. "Take me 
 advice and let books alone ; there 's little good in 
 'em, and this fellow Shakespeare with whom 
 you Ve been colloguing for the while past, is mis- 
 leading. Belike, ye don't remimber miscalling me 
 
 [230]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 Michael Cassio, and me a born Donovan. Help 
 me with the mine, put yer mind on yer property, 
 and ye '11 have nather time nor inclination for 
 aught else. Go aisy for a week or two until ye get 
 the hang of things. What with the worry and sor- 
 row, it 's natural yer wife should be low-spirited. 
 Take me advice, ould man : there are good saddle 
 horses in the camp have a jaunt with her over 
 the ridge. There 's a lot doing, and there 's towns 
 now where there were only cabins before you 
 wint away, and there's mining being done that 
 will surprise ye. Make a week of it ; and if Miss 
 Dot goes along, maybe you can persuade Ranee 
 to go wid ye." Mike's eyes twinkled as he made 
 this last suggestion. "A nice fellow is that same 
 Ranee, and I 'm of the opinion that yer daughter 
 has the same way of thinking." 
 
 "What do you mean, Mike?" asked Wakefield, 
 startled by Mike's implied hint. 
 
 "I mane nothing and I know nothing except 
 that if I had a daughter it's mighty proud I 
 would be to have Ranee as a son-in-law ; and I 'm 
 no prophet if you don't have the chance." 
 
 "Why, she is only a child, Mike," retorted 
 Wakefield, knitting his brows over the implica- 
 tion, but not at all displeased with the prospect. 
 
 [231]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 He had an abiding affection for his young part- 
 ner, and would be more than satisfied if Mike's 
 prediction should come to pass; but he had not 
 realized that his daughter had grown into woman- 
 hood, nor did he know that during his blank days 
 he had been the excuse for the intimacy that had 
 ripened into love. 
 
 " Child, is it ? " laughed Mike. " No doubt you 
 think she 's still a baby, that f oine slip of a gurl 
 that do be a woman. But I 'm thrusting me nose 
 in what is none of me business, and Ranee will not 
 be thanking me for me impident interference. 
 You need n't be telling him what I Ve said, or the 
 bye will damn me for a blundering Irishman 
 putting in me fist where there is no occasion." 
 
 Wakefield promised, and also agreed to take 
 into consideration the suggested trip to the adja- 
 cent camps. 
 
 " I can't go wid ye mesilf ," explained Mike, " as 
 I must n't lave the mine alone that lingth of time ; 
 but there 's yersilf and the mistress, Mr. and Mrs. 
 Potter (a slice of the honeymoon for thim) , Miss 
 Dot and Ranee of course, and maybe Black 
 Brant. That would be a nice party and only one 
 odd one in it." 
 
 "Black Brant, who is he?" asked Wakefield. 
 
 [232]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 "Who is he?" echoed Mike. "He's lago, the 
 villain ye Ve been a-scowling at and refusing to 
 spake to for no ind of time. He's a reformed 
 sport, a convarted faro daler that 's took up wid 
 mining for raisons. He's no frind of mine, al- 
 though I Ve trated him dacently and given him 
 the benefit of me advice in his new game. He 
 was at the wedding, but I have n't seen him since. 
 It 's the dog Jack that 's responsible for him, al- 
 though the dog is no frind of his aither. Ranee 
 will tell you the story. There comes your daugh- 
 ter a-flying down the hill, and I '11 be scolded 
 for monopolizing your company." 
 
 Dot announced that dinner was waiting, and as 
 Mike predicted, upbraided him for spending the 
 long forenoon in the mine. 
 
 "Mr. Poole arid I have been waiting for you for 
 hours," she said, "and even Tex and Ruth have 
 forgotten their own affairs long enough to ask 
 where you are." 
 
 "Mr. Poole, is it? How polite we 're getting! 
 And who is Mr. Poole?" sarcastically inquired 
 Mike. "You'll be calling me Mr. Donovan 
 nixt." 
 
 "Oh no, I will not. You are the boss even 
 Mrs. Ruth admits that, and" making a mock 
 
 [233]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 courtesy, "we will call you the manager. Come 
 along! It's a glorious day and I'm gloriously 
 hungry," and taking her father's hand, she led the 
 way up the trail to the boarding-house, where the 
 others were waiting. Mrs. Wakefield was among 
 them and met her husband, but it was a shy and 
 awkward greeting on both sides. He was not 
 demonstrative, nor she affectionate. Perhaps 
 their long years of married life had dulled their 
 emotions, although to the lookers-on it did seem 
 that the wife was singularly unmoved by the 
 change in her husband's mental condition. 
 
 The afternoon was passed in mutual consulta- 
 tion as to the future. Tex and his bride were 
 determined on a visit to the plains; and Mrs. 
 Wakefield intimated that she desired a change of 
 scene if her husband's interests permitted, and 
 appealed to Dot to add her persuasion to that 
 end. 
 
 "If your father prefers the mountains," she 
 suggested, "we can pass the winter in San Fran- 
 cisco and return in the spring. This barbarous 
 place is unbearable." 
 
 Wakefield, at this hint of a separation, looked 
 at her with surprise, but made no reply ; at a sign 
 
 [234]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 from Ranee he followed him up the path to the 
 spring, where they sat down together. 
 
 "Wakefield," began Ranee, with a little em- 
 barrassment, "I have a great favor to ask of you, 
 and I trust you will see your way to grant it. 
 The fact is," he blurted out, "I want Dot for my 
 own ; I think she is willing. Can you give her to 
 me?" 
 
 Wakefield looked into Ranee's honest eyes, 
 and his own dimmed. 
 
 "I'm sure it never entered my mind," he 
 huskily replied. "I haven't had much mind of 
 late until the past twenty-four hours, but I know 
 that you would be my choice above all men. It 's 
 another blessing I have to thank God for," and 
 the strong man wrung Ranee's hand with an 
 unwonted emotion. Then he asked Ranee for a 
 rehearsal of all that had happened since his mind 
 failed him ; and his friend gave him a full account, 
 including the loving care and devoted attention 
 of Dot. 
 
 "And my wife?" queried Wakefield. "She 
 also has cared for me?" 
 
 "Oh, of course," replied Ranee, "but you must 
 remember that she was a sick woman when she 
 
 [235]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 arrived and has hardly had the strength to play 
 the attendant, knowing it was not necessary as 
 you were in good hands." 
 
 "Maybe it's because I am gathering my wits 
 slowly," responded Wakefield, "but I am op- 
 pressed with the feeling that something my 
 mental condition possibly has put up some sort 
 of a barrier between us. Not that I have any 
 tangible cause for the belief, but I cannot escape 
 the thought that there is an estrangement, a 
 coldness for which I cannot account. I have 
 been a trial that is a fact." 
 
 Ranee pooh-poohed the suggestion, insisting 
 that his friend was a little morbid and that mat- 
 ters would right themselves in the near future. 
 "If there is any foundation for it, the cause has 
 been our own selfishness," he explained. "She 
 has been too much alone. Dot and I have de- 
 voted our waking hours to you, Ruth has been 
 busy about her own affairs, and the rest of those 
 with whom she could associate were looking after 
 the mine and its workings. Naturally, being ill 
 and out of sorts, she has keenly felt our apparent 
 neglect and doubtless silently resented it." 
 
 " It may be," responded Wakefield. " She burst 
 into tears last night and told me that she had had 
 
 [336]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 but one friend in the camp, and that was a person 
 that I had never heard of before. Who is this 
 Phillips to whom she seems to owe such a debt 
 of gratitude? According to Mike, he is not the 
 sort of a man that one would choose for a family 
 friend." 
 
 With some confusion and inward upbraiding, 
 Ranee related to his comrade the circumstances 
 that had brought about their meeting and his 
 subsequent introduction to the camp. 
 
 "He is a gentleman," he insisted, "a reformed 
 gambler, if you please, but of good birth and 
 breeding. He abandoned his profession from 
 sheer disgust and under my own and Mike's 
 advice took up mining. His property is just 
 across the ridge, and at my invitation he made 
 The City of Six his abiding-place. The truth 
 is," remorsefully continued Ranee, "he must 
 have found it pretty dull here of late. You 
 were such pleasant company that I neglected 
 him, and he has been left to his own resources. 
 When I come to think of it, your wife and he, 
 ignored by the rest of us, have established a 
 friendship, and that probably accounts for her 
 reference to him as her only friend. Give her 
 time, old man, and don't go around pulling a 
 
 [237]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 long face. Cheer up, and take my word for it 
 there is no one in this round world who rejoices 
 in your recovery more than she." 
 
 "Well, she takes a queer way of showing it," 
 grumbled Wakefield. "Don't think I'm jeal- 
 ous that would be ridiculous; but where is the 
 fellow, anyway? Has he run away because I 
 have got my senses?" 
 
 Ranee explained that Phillips had been at the 
 wedding and was present when Dot brought the 
 tidings of her father's sanity. He probably felt 
 that he would be out of place at the family re- 
 union, and had saddled his horse and gone over 
 to Hepsidam or an adjacent camp. 
 
 "Don't bother, he will turn up when he judges 
 that things have settled down to the old basis." 
 
 "Why should I bother?" retorted Wakefield. 
 "I'm sure I have no interest in the man or in- 
 clination to meet him, except a curiosity to know 
 the person whom my wife proclaims as her only 
 friend. And by the way, Mike suggests that we 
 all take a vacation and ride over to the towns 
 on the Middle Fork. He tells me that they have 
 grown into big camps since I saw them, and I 
 would like to get a glimpse at them. I intend, 
 as soon as I get my bearings, to get back into 
 
 [238]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 harness. Mike insists that he needs me, and it 
 will be pleasant to take up the old work again. 
 If the wife wants city life or travel, I will con- 
 sent, but without me. There is too much at stake 
 here, what with Tex going off on his honey- 
 moon, for us to leave the burden wholly on 
 Mike's shoulders. Besides, it is my duty. I've 
 had my share for a time without contributing 
 my help, and I will stay with it until I make up 
 for my idleness." 
 
 Ranee suggested that there was no immediate 
 necessity for a decision and heartily agreed to 
 the proposed visit to the neighboring towns. 
 
 "We can take the ladies along; there are good 
 hotels at Forest City and Moore's Flat, and we 
 will get together and talk it over this evening. 
 And then," added Ranee, "I am of the opinion 
 that Mr. and Mrs. Poole to be doesn't that 
 sound well? will have a taste of civilization. 
 I want to take Dot back to my old home and 
 present her to my own people, and if mother-in- 
 law do you think she will like the title? 
 will favor us with her company, what could be 
 better planned than such a journey? You will 
 stay and pile up wealth while we are having a 
 jolly trip. That is the solution of it all, de- 
 
 [239]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 pending, of course, as to whether she will accept 
 me as a son-in-law. Dot is to break the news 
 to her and get her consent." 
 
 Wakefield cheered up visibly and agreed that 
 Ranee's plan was a good one, although not relish- 
 ing the prospective separation from his wife, and 
 they started to walk back to camp. 
 
 "By Jove, there she is now!" cried Ranee. 
 "What is she doing up on the ridge trail?" 
 pointing to Mrs. Wakefield, who had just 
 emerged from the chaparral where the path 
 wound down the crest, and was slowly returning 
 to camp. They waited for her at the foot of 
 the hill, where she joined them and walked in 
 their company to the house. She was silent, 
 abstracted, and responded to their talk in mono- 
 syllables; and they failed to note, as she shaded 
 her eyes from the rays of the declining sun, that 
 they were tear-stained and swollen, traces which 
 she removed with cold water as soon as she en- 
 tered the house. 
 
 " I wonder if Dot has told her," puzzled Ranee. 
 "What the mischief has got into the woman? 
 She's a wet blanket on us all." Then Mike 
 beckoned him to one side. 
 
 "Ranee, there is trouble ahead, unless we 
 
 [240]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 interfere. Baldy Brown came over the trail 
 from Kanaka Creek this afternoon and told me 
 he met the old man's wife and Black Brant, 
 sitting out under the rock on top of the hill, 
 he wid his arm around her waist, and she a-cry- 
 ing and wringing her hands. I have my 
 suspicions that he is coaxing her to her own 
 divilment, the dirty hound." 
 
 Ranee's hot blood boiled as he comprehended 
 the situation. 
 
 "By God! I'll kill him like a dog if he 
 means her harm, the infernal scoundrel! And 
 I will follow him to hell to do it!" 
 
 "Be quiet, me son, be cool and don't be doing 
 anything rash. I Ve told Baldy to kape his teeth 
 shut and his tongue inside. We will have no 
 scandal until there is a good reason for it. 
 You '11 not interfere, I have me way of taking 
 care of the baste widout you're mixing in it." 
 
 It was with difficulty that Ranee controlled 
 himself, especially when he considered his new 
 relation to the family. It came to him that 
 Brant Phillips, infatuated with the woman, had 
 taken advantage of Wakefield's affliction to 
 estrange her from her husband. Wakefield's 
 recovery had disconcerted his plans, and he was 
 
 [241]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 no doubt using all his persuasive powers to sep- 
 arate the pair. This accounted for the wife's 
 embarrassment and her attitude toward her hus- 
 band, and for Phillips's avoidance of the place 
 since the night previous. Mike's informant, who 
 had not been observed, had noted that Phillips 
 remounted his horse and rode away in the oppo- 
 site direction. With turmoil in his mind, Ranee 
 managed to command his feelings, although 
 mentally vowing the direst vengeance. 
 
 There was a gathering in the boarding-house 
 that evening, and Wakefield, acting on Mike's 
 suggestion, proposed the little journey along the 
 ridge. To their surprise, Mrs. Wakefield gave 
 an eager acceptance. She had recovered her 
 spirits and, notwithstanding appearances, Ranee 
 was almost persuaded that his suspicions were 
 unfounded. Later, when she quietly told him that 
 Dot had pleaded his cause and that she was only 
 too happy to give her consent, he felt ashamed 
 that he should have so misjudged her, and was 
 almost convinced that it was all a mistake. Any- 
 way, he would be prudent and not precipitate 
 trouble by acting on what after all might be 
 false conclusions. He blamed himself for the 
 situation. He had been so absorbed in the daugh- 
 
 [242]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 ter that he had forgotten the mother. Now he 
 could see how lonely she must have been; her 
 protector alienated, the daughter, who had been 
 her confidante and constant companion, transfer- 
 ring her attentions to her father; naturally she 
 had craved sympathy and without any thought 
 of wrongdoing had accepted it when proffered. 
 But, and Ranee gritted his teeth, there was no 
 excuse for the man who had taken advantage 
 of the hospitality of the camp, to play so base 
 a role; no, he would be held to a strict account. 
 With vengeful thoughts he sought Mike at the 
 office and unfolded to him his determination of at 
 once seeking out Brant and inflicting summary 
 punishment. 
 
 "You'll do nothing of the kind," Mike em- 
 phatically declared. " I 'm convinced that there 
 is no harm done although there is no telling 
 what might have happened if the ould man had 
 stayed off his head much longer. This man 
 Phillips was an idle man and she an idle woman, 
 and ye know the proverb about the divil finding 
 worrk for that sort. I know ye, Ranee. Ye 're 
 that hot-blooded that nothing will satisfy ye but 
 to wipe him off the face of the earth. Ye can't 
 assassinate him. Ye 're sure to quarrel, and thin, 
 
 ]243]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 don't forget, he's quick on the trigger; and 
 where will it ind? Ye need n't flash up, av coorse 
 ye 're not as cool as the sport ; and, me bye," 
 here Mike threw his arm around Ranee's neck, 
 "we all love ye. Even Mrs. Ruth is as fond of 
 ye as a dacent married woman can be and ye 
 do be wanting to make Miss Dot a widdy before 
 she is a wife. Lave it to me. I '11 ride over to 
 Hepsidam in the morning, have a quiet talk with 
 the gintleman, and I 'm of the belafe that he '11 
 trouble none of us any more." 
 
 By dint of Mike's persuasive eloquence, Ranee 
 allowed himself to be persuaded, it being under- 
 stood that he was not to seek a quarrel unless 
 Mike's mission failed. 
 
 "Take no care of me," enjoined the warm- 
 hearted Irishman. "The worrds I will use will 
 be convincing, but he'll take no offince. How 
 can he, when I explain to him that his prisence 
 in The City of Six is regarded as no longer neces- 
 sary on account of a prejudice the dog Jack and 
 the cook have against him? He'll take the hint 
 without a kick, and that will be the ind of the 
 trouble." 
 
 Mike carried out his programme and must 
 have acted diplomatically, as he reported to 
 
 [244]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 Ranee the next morning that it had all been 
 satisfactorily settled. 
 
 "I said to him that the ould man, having 
 come out of his trance, would naturally object 
 to any intrusion, and that the wife was so happy 
 over it that she wouldn't have time to entertain 
 any one not connected intimately with the family. 
 You should have seen the black look he gave 
 me when I said it, but the scoundrel was that 
 cool about it that he tould me he had made up 
 his mind to the same and that he was going to 
 sell out if he could, lave the mountains and per- 
 haps the State. It was thin, Ranee, that I did 
 a stroke of business wid him, for I agreed to 
 buy the Hepsidam property for the money he 
 has put into it ; and I 'm sure I Ve got a bargain, 
 which you can all share in if so minded. Now 
 take me tip, coort the mother as well as the 
 daughter. Grateful she will be for your attin- 
 tions and proud that ye are coming into the 
 family. Another thing, me bye. I hear they are 
 going to have races over at Moore's Flat next 
 week, a lively camp is that same Moore's Flat. 
 Sure, there will be a lot of fun and divilment, for 
 money is plenty on the ridge, and the byes are 
 anxious to scatter it. Fix up your party, and 
 
 1*45]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 I'll send a message over to a frind of mine I 
 have there to engage rooms for ye all at the hotel. 
 It's the same frind, Lon Hanchett, I want you 
 to know. He's the boss miner of the camp, a 
 big-hearted young feller, barely of age and yet 
 the owner of the two richest mines on the Flat." 
 
 Ranee was pleased to hear of Mike's success 
 in his mission and, although still resentful over 
 Phillips's actions, was glad to get rid of him so 
 easily, never doubting that this would be the end 
 of the trouble. 
 
 The excursion was duly debated and decided 
 upon. Ruth hesitated at first, she was fearful 
 of the effect it might have on the morals of her 
 husband. 
 
 "He's one of the best men, Ranee," she de- 
 clared, "but he never had any early training, 
 and he has grown up that wild that I 'm afraid 
 he will never steady down into a peaceful man." 
 
 Ranee laughed as he bethought himself of the 
 pipe episode, and then took occasion to give her 
 a little advice. 
 
 "Don't get angry, Ruth, but take my word 
 for it, too much molly-coddling will spoil the 
 best of us. Tex has run free all his life and it 
 has not hurt him any. He loves you and he 
 
 [246]
 
 A GAMBLER IN LOVE 
 
 thinks you are perfection. He has formed his 
 habits, and you can't teach an old dog new 
 tricks pardon me for the comparison. Don't 
 put the curb on him too tight. You've cut off 
 his smoking, and he's trying to quit to please 
 you. Bye and bye he '11 sneak off into the mine 
 or somewhere else, fill his pipe and smoke, and 
 while he's doing it will feel aggrieved that you 
 have deprived him of the comfort. He hates 
 starched shirts, although he will wear them be- 
 cause you want him to and they will be a yoke. 
 Even I, who was born to them, despise them. 
 Drive him with a loose rein, and you can guide 
 him in any road you please." 
 
 Ruth bridled a bit at what struck her as pre- 
 sumptuous, and then perhaps a vision of the 
 past came to her. Her first husband she had 
 thought a manly fellow when they were married ; 
 there had been few quarrels; he had just seemed 
 to lose spirit and had turned weak and shiftless. 
 He had basely wronged her, as she passionately 
 declared, without cause or provocation. Had 
 she pursued the right system? With all her 
 masterfulness, Ruth was a sensible woman and 
 capable of learning a lesson. 
 
 "Much you know about marriage," she re- 
 
 [247]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 torted. "Why, your wife, if you ever get 
 one, will twist you around her little finger; 
 but I 'm obliged for the counsel." 
 
 She departed to find Tex and note whether 
 her discipline had had any bad effects. Ranee 
 laughed heartily and later called Mike's attention 
 to Tex who after dinner sprawled on the porch 
 emitting clouds of smoke from his pipe, and Ruth 
 close by his side, betraying no annoyance. 
 
 "Hivins, Ranee, would ye belave it? And she 
 not telling him what a filthy habit it is! By 
 this and that I see Tex has a happy life forninst 
 him." 
 
 f248]
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 T T was quite an imposing cavalcade that left 
 The City of Six on Sunday morning. Moore's 
 Flat, its destination, was some fifteen miles to 
 the south, half-way up the mountain-side from 
 the Middle Fork of the Yuba River. It, with 
 its companion camps, Woolsey's and Orleans 
 Flat, had become famous for the richness and 
 extent of the gold deposits. The channel of the 
 ancient river, the same that had been discovered 
 at The City of Six, had been found here with like 
 characteristics; in fact, it had been traced and 
 was in this Fall of 1853 being worked in sections 
 from La Porte on the north to You Bet and Red 
 Dog in Nevada County on the south, a distance 
 of over sixty miles ; and before it was exhausted, 
 gold to the value of over two hundred million 
 dollars was taken out of the stream. 
 
 The members of the party were in the best of 
 spirits; even Mrs. Wakefield seemed to have 
 thrown off the depression and rallied to Ranee's 
 gay sallies, he having devoted himself to her 
 
 [249]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 especial entertainment. Tex, who was a superb 
 horseman, had picked up a magnificent half- 
 breed animal, with enough mustang blood to give 
 him the spirit and wildness characteristic of the 
 Spanish-bred horse. It was a trial to Ruth's 
 nerves when, Tex having mounted, the animal 
 bucked and plunged madly to unseat him, but 
 she was proud of his skill and horsemanship in 
 soon subduing his steed to comparative tameness. 
 
 Ranee had purchased from an immigrant party 
 an animal bred in Missouri, a fine, clean-limbed, 
 broad-chested, powerful bay, for which he had 
 paid a goodly price. He had never regretted his 
 investment, however, as it was an ideal saddle 
 animal and under the care and kind treatment 
 of its owner had become a companion pet to the 
 dog Jack, and the pair were almost inseparable. 
 
 Riding was rather awkward for the ladies, as 
 side saddles were unprocurable, but improvised 
 pack saddles were made to do duty, and as the 
 women were mounted on quiet animals they soon 
 became accustomed to them. 
 
 A halt was made at the old Mexican roadside 
 house, near which Ranee had had his adventure 
 with Joaquin Murieta's band, where they found 
 the innkeeper desolate and alone. The prop and 
 
 [250]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 stay of his inn were gone. "Las muchachas fueron 
 muy ingratas" his daughters had left him, 
 formed misalliances, from his point of view, with 
 hated Americanos., and the attraction of his way- 
 side resort had vanished. 
 
 A ride up Kanaka Creek, which in '49 had 
 been one of the most prolific in its gold-dust 
 output, showed a sad change from the days 
 when the banks were lined with log cabins and 
 the pioneers with the rocker and "torn" made 
 music in its bed. There was as much activity, 
 as many workers, but of another race. The 
 Chinaman was gleaning the old workings, and 
 the creek had degenerated into " China diggings." 
 
 A halt was made at Alleghany Town for din- 
 ner, and then the party plunged into the canyon 
 of the Middle Fork, a descent of three thousand 
 feet from the crest to the river and an equal 
 climb on the south side. The trail wound in and 
 around the curves and bends of Bloody Run, a 
 wide ravine that headed at the flat and had but 
 recently received its gruesome christening. It 
 was a toll trail; and the keeper, a jolly Irishman, 
 after mulcting each of the party a dollar for the 
 privilege of riding over it, told the story of its 
 naming, a tale embracing both the tragic and 
 
 [251]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the comic. Some enterprising Moore's Flat cap- 
 italists had constructed it at the cost of several 
 thousand dollars, as a communication between 
 the Flat and Minnesota, a mining camp on the 
 ridge north of the river; but it proved a poor 
 investment, the travel being limited and un- 
 profitable. In order to stimulate it, the owners hit 
 upon a scheme of introducing a "hurdy house" 
 at Moore's Flat, an institution that flourished 
 and prospered in the early days. It was the 
 forerunner of the dance-house of modern times. 
 Buxom Dutch girls were brought up from San 
 Francisco and furnished saltatory amusement 
 for the miners, who bought the privilege of a 
 dance with these tireless Terpsichoreans at four 
 bits per waltz, the price of two drinks at the 
 bar. Females were scarce in the mines in those 
 days, and the "hurdies" were well patronized by 
 miners longing for companionship of the sex and 
 willing to pay the price. It was noted that on 
 Saturday nights and Sundays, the Minnesotans 
 from the opposite ridge came over in force to 
 Moore's Flat and almost monopolized the 
 dancers. In order to equalize matters, the shrewd 
 capitalists hit upon the scheme of alternating the 
 hurdy performances, one week at Moore's Flat 
 
 [252]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 and the next at Minnesota. It worked to a 
 charm, not only in accruing profit for the hurdy- 
 houses, but also from the fact that the Moore's 
 Flatters in goodly numbers invaded the rival 
 camp when the hurdies made their pilgrimage 
 over the river, and vice versa. Toll at a dollar 
 a head, under the stimulus, changed the invest- 
 ment into a profitable one, and the public-spirited 
 capitalists pulled out with a good profit. It 
 followed that the toll-keeper's cash receipts 
 amounted to a handsome sum enough to tempt 
 the cupidity of three highwaymen who under- 
 took to rob our Irishman of the accumulated 
 tolls. One Monday morning, before he had 
 made his usual trip to the Flat with the Sunday's 
 toll receipts, three robbers called him out and 
 demanded the coin, levelling their six-shooters at 
 his head to emphasize the request. The Irish- 
 man, a brave and pugnacious fellow, unarmed 
 as he was, seized a pick handle that stood by the 
 door and wielded it with deadly effect, by a 
 miracle escaping the fusillade of bullets provoked 
 by his unexpected action. It is an historical rec- 
 ord that he killed all three of the thieves with his 
 singular weapon and went into history as a gen- 
 uine hero. From the incident the Flatters 
 
 [253]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 dubbed the ravine "Bloody Run," and it bears 
 the name to this day. 
 
 It was nightfall when the little party reached 
 its destination, and its members met with a most 
 hospitable welcome from the landlady of the 
 hotel, from whom the town was named. Mike's 
 friend Hanchett was also on hand to add his 
 welcome, he having been forewarned of the ex- 
 pected visit. 
 
 The town was in marked contrast to their own 
 quiet hamlet. The mines were rich and exten- 
 sive, and some two thousand miners were busy 
 along the mountain-side, burrowing like so many 
 gophers in the old channel. One would judge 
 by the first glance at the business section, com- 
 prised in one long street, that withal it was a 
 thirsty population. The principal and only 
 thoroughfare was as usual named Main Street, 
 ninety-nine out of a hundred of the mining 
 towns so dubbing the highway along which the 
 stores, hotels, etc., were strung, displaying a 
 poverty of invention in marked contrast to the 
 picturesque nomenclature of the towns them- 
 selves. Cross streets were impossible, as the 
 camp clung precariously to the steep mountain- 
 side and the first impression was that it would 
 
 [254]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 require but a slight momentum to send it all 
 sliding down into the river. However, its loca- 
 tion had not been chosen for the advantage it of- 
 fered as a town site, the yellow metal was there 
 in seemingly inexhaustible quantities, and the 
 town itself was but a secondary consideration. 
 Given the hotel, the express office, and the mer- 
 chandise stores as a centre, there stretched awaj^ 
 on either side drinking and gambling saloons 
 by the score, all thronged after nightfall and 
 crowded by a motley multitude, seeking the only 
 distraction offered, convivial libations to Bacchus 
 or the more fascinating wooing of the Goddess 
 of Chance, who spread her nets in many different 
 guises, from the more aristocratic faro and monte 
 games to the boisterous rondo and keno. If 
 business was somewhat slack during the week- 
 days there was an added impetus on Saturday 
 nights and Sundays, when the miners knocked 
 off work and plunged into rollicking participa- 
 tion in the pleasurable attractions. Usually 
 they were a good-natured lot, and quarrels were 
 infrequent except among the gambling fraternity 
 themselves, but the peace and quiet was occasion- 
 ally broken by some assertive and quarrelsome 
 desperado, who in his cups sought, in the slang 
 
 [255]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 of the day, to clean out a fandango house, or 
 appease his fighting instinct by the sacrifice of a 
 rival rough. These encounters were too frequent 
 to produce more than a ripple of interest heyond 
 the comment that some sport had "died with 
 his boots on." 
 
 Sitting on the porch of the hotel, Ranee was 
 reminded of his adventure with the dog and his 
 encounter with the "bad" element, and inci- 
 dentally wondered what had become of Brant, 
 whom, it will be recalled, he had met on that 
 occasion. Hanchett, who insisted upon being 
 the host of the party in his role of Mike's friend 
 and the leading citizen, grew enthusiastic as to 
 the future of the place and reminiscent over its 
 history. It was amusing to listen to this beard- 
 less boy, just reaching the age of manhood, dilate 
 upon the discovery, growth, and importance of 
 the town, of which by right of his luck or enter- 
 prise he was the chief factor. Scarcely a year 
 had passed since, abandoning a worked-out claim 
 over on Kanaka Creek, he had started on a 
 prospecting trip, stumbled on these rich deposits, 
 and was now the recipient of an income of over 
 a thousand dollars a day, with every indication 
 that the Paradise claims, as he had named them, 
 
 [256]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 would hold out indefinitely. These, however, 
 were commonplaces and were matched by hun- 
 dreds of equally fortunate finds along the old 
 stream. 
 
 " The boys have decided upon having a week's 
 holiday," he informed the listeners, "horse 
 races, foot races, jackass fights, a turkey shoot, 
 etc.; and to round it off, a theatrical company 
 will give nightly performances in the town hall. 
 They have billed for production tragedy, com- 
 edy, and farce. 'The Favorite of the Foothills,' 
 Sue Robinson, is the leading woman, and the 
 miners all swear by her. She paid the boys a 
 visit in their claims yesterday, and they taught 
 her how to wash a pan of dirt. You can bet 
 that they fixed it for her to get a good prospect 
 and I reckon she had four or five ounces when 
 she got through making her rounds. The joke 
 of it is that she plays that little game in every 
 camp that the troupe shows in, and they do 
 say that she has more of an income from that 
 source than from her salary. What difference 
 does it make? They don't begrudge it and are 
 willing to pay the price for the pleasure the 
 visit gives them." 
 
 "Yes, but about racing," interjected Ranee. 
 
 [257]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "To run a race there has to be a track, and 
 where can you make one anywhere about here? 
 There is not a level spot in sight of the place." 
 
 "Oh, we've got a track up on the ridge going 
 to Snow Point. To be sure, there are a few 
 humps in it, but it 's straight away for a quarter 
 of a mile and that's all that is needed," re- 
 plied Hanchett. "Don't worry, the boys are 
 thoroughbreds if the horses are not, and you 
 will see good sport before the week is over." 
 
 ".That is all right, we will all enjoy it; but 
 the race horses, where do they come from?" 
 queried Ranee. "I never heard that Moore's 
 Flat was noted for its fast stock." 
 
 "That is easy," Hanchett informed him. "We 
 have got one horse here that is hard to beat, 
 and he belongs to me. He's called 'Honest 
 John Wagner,' and I bought him at Nevada 
 City after he had fooled all the gamblers in that 
 section. If you want to rile a Nevada sport, 
 mention that horse to him and you can have a 
 fight on your hands in a minute. As for our 
 racing stock, we were a little puzzled at first; 
 but I happened to remember old man Hennessy 
 who keeps the stables at San Juan. No better 
 judge of horse flesh in the State than that same 
 
 [258]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 Hennessy, who quit the seat of a New York 
 cab to try his fortune here and naturally fell 
 into the livery business. Our roads are all trails, 
 so his stock are saddle animals principally, and 
 he has picked up from emigrants from Kentucky, 
 Missouri, and other Western States a lot of 
 horses of superior breed, pedigree, and endur- 
 ance. We made a bargain with him to bring a 
 dozen to the Flat and we would match them to 
 suit ourselves, guaranteeing him a handsome 
 percentage of the stakes and putting him on his 
 honor not to reveal to any one his knowledge of 
 their speed. He brought them up two or three 
 days ago and there isn't a shoe-string gambler 
 in the camp that has not tried to bribe him to 
 give a line on their respective qualities; but he 
 has scorned their dirty money. To all he has 
 said, 'I will not spile sport. I may have me 
 own opinion, but it 's to mesilf I '11 kape it until 
 after the race is run'; and I believe the old 
 fellow will stick to his word. 
 
 ".Talking about these gamblers, did you hear 
 how they were all cleaned out a couple of months 
 ago at the county-seat? No? It happened this way. 
 A rough old cattleman from the plains drove 
 a bunch of steers into Nevada City, which he 
 
 [259]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 disposed of to the local butchers for cash. He 
 rode a good-looking mare, putting it up in the 
 livery stable, and after the sale he proceeded to 
 fill up on tanglefoot, becoming quite boastful as 
 to the ability of his riding animal to beat any- 
 thing on four legs in the county, and offering 
 to wager a thousand dollars to back his opinion. 
 Like all the foothill mining camps, Nevada City 
 had a fast quarter horse, which had beaten the 
 favorites of all the towns round about, and 
 the sports believed it was invincible. To make the 
 betting a certainty they hatched a little plot and 
 proceeded to carry it into effect. The cattleman 
 had kept up his drinking and boasting all the 
 afternoon, and half a dozen gamblers were 
 deputized to keep him in tow during the evening, 
 while a dozen more arranged for a moonlight 
 speed trial on the track a short distance 
 from the camp. The stable-keeper, more than 
 willing to turn a dishonest dollar, consented to 
 the temporary abstraction of the stranger's mare 
 and the local favorite was pitted against her. 
 Two light-weight riders were provided, and the 
 racers were pushed to their best. Two trials 
 were had and in each one the home mare out- 
 footed the stranger ten yards or more in the dash 
 
 [260]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 for a quarter of a mile. That was sufficient; 
 the stolen steed was restored to the stable, the 
 information given to the local sports, and a 
 match race made for one thousand dollars a side, 
 to be run the next afternoon, the cattleman in- 
 sisting that the express agent, a square man, 
 should hold the stakes. Before all parties re- 
 tired he had made side bets of several thousand 
 more, bantered into it by the now confident 
 gamblers. The next morning, apparently sober, 
 he was the picture of dejection and tried to beg 
 off on the ground of irresponsibility under the 
 influence of whiskey. The sports, however, in- 
 sisted that it was either run the race or forfeit 
 the money. Finding them inexorable, he pro- 
 ceeded to drown his sorrow in filling up again, 
 and was soon as maudlin, boastful, and ready 
 to back his mare as the day previous. It was 
 astonishing how much coin he was able to 
 produce, the express agent answering his calls 
 for money without demur; the consequence was 
 that by noon he had put up thirty-two thousand 
 dollars and bet the sports to a standstill. Then 
 the boss gambler, a little nervous over the few 
 thousands that he had placed on a sure thing, 
 concluded he would interview the agent, especi- 
 
 [261]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ally as the cattleman seemed to recover his so- 
 briety as soon as there were no more bets in sight. 
 He learned that the agent knew the stranger, who 
 was Andy Wheeler, the owner of a big Spanish 
 grant in Napa Valley, who had thousands of 
 cattle on the range, and was good for half a mil- 
 lion anywhere. 'Besides,' he added, 'I 'm taking 
 no chances ; I hold certificates of deposit with my 
 company for fifty thousand dollars; they are as 
 good as the gold coin, and he can draw the full 
 amount if he wants to.' This information soon 
 spread, and the sports' eager efforts to secure 
 easy money came to an end. In the meantime, 
 half a dozen tough-looking vaqueros, who had 
 driven in the bunch of cattle, had taken the boss's 
 mare from the stable to their camp, and the pop- 
 ulation wended its way to the track. It was 
 noted that a little darky who up to that time had 
 not been in evidence was in the saddle exercising 
 the racer; and that the vaqueros, each with a 
 couple of big revolvers in belt, were acting as 
 bodyguard to their employer. The situation had 
 such a business look that it gave the gamblers 
 the cold shivers. They could not help feeling 
 that there was a screw loose somewhere; but 
 where? They had given the horses a thorough 
 
 [262]
 
 SPORTSMEN AND SPORTING 
 
 test, and if they were deceived they could not 
 puzzle out the plot. To make a long story 
 short, the race was run and the local mare was 
 beaten fifteen yards in the quarter. They were 
 a sore and disgusted lot of sports, but they had 
 to take their medicine. They could not cry 
 fraud, for there was nothing to indicate it. Their 
 mood was ugly enough to pick a quarrel ; but two 
 could play at that game, and the stranger and 
 his vaqueros were too formidable to be intim- 
 idated. There was nothing left but to pocket 
 the losses and let it go at that. The morning 
 stage for Sacramento carried a heavy treasure 
 box, and the cattleman and his men returned to 
 the plains congratulating themselves on a prof- 
 itable trip. The boys learned afterwards that 
 the mare was the well-known 'Missouri Jane/ 
 the speediest quarter horse between the Missouri 
 River and the Pacific Ocean, and that she had 
 made the same sojt of a coup a dozen times in 
 as many towns, from Mariposa to Siskiyou. 
 That is why you must be careful when you talk 
 about racing down at the county-seat." 
 
 Ranee had listened to this tale of the biter and 
 the bitten and acknowledged that it was inter- 
 esting, but he did not exactly see how it was done. 
 
 [263]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "'What was the secret of the moonlight trial, 
 Hanchett?" 
 
 "Simple enough," chuckled the raconteur; 
 the mare was cross-shod when she was put in the 
 stable." 
 
 "Cross-shod, what 's that?" queried Ranee. 
 
 "The shoes on her off fore and near hind foot 
 were two pounds heavier than their opposites. 
 This threw her off her gait and she could not 
 make time, no matter how hard she was pushed. 
 Before the race, these shoes were taken off, 
 racing plates substituted, and she was ready 
 for action." 
 
 "Oh!" said Ranee, bidding his companion 
 good-night and returning to his room, musing 
 on the gullibilty of mankind in general and the 
 Nevada sports in particular. 
 
 [264]
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE RACES 
 
 week opened as a general holiday, the 
 principal mines shutting down and the in- 
 habitants of the neighboring camps Orleans, 
 Woolsey's, and Minnesota Flat swelling the 
 crowd. Even the river miners, who had been 
 forced after a prosperous season to suspend 
 operations by high water incidental to early 
 storms, flocked to the centre of attraction, with 
 the result of a gathering of four or five thou- 
 sand men, all bent on a good time, that is, a 
 carnival of dissipation and prodigality. 
 
 Our party, who were comfortably domiciled 
 at the hotel, rather enjoyed the change from the 
 quiet life at The City of Six and prepared to 
 participate to a mild degree in the excitement. 
 Ruth was somewhat fearful that Tex would 
 stray from under her wing, she being inclined at 
 first to resent his sporting tendencies, and was sur- 
 prised to discover that the chances were that the 
 gray mare in this case was not to be the better 
 
 [265]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 horse. He had a quiet way of passive resist- 
 ance when she sought to curb his liberties, and 
 he tolerated her idiosyncrasies as natural to the 
 sex and a penalty of the marriage state, which 
 all men who took upon themselves the matri- 
 monial yoke had to encounter and make the best 
 of; and so he listened placidly to her lectures, 
 smiled at her alarms as to the possibilities of his 
 moral downfall, and reckoned that one who had 
 mingled in the mixed society of the Texas border 
 and had not fallen by the wayside had the sta- 
 mina to resist the temptations of the mining 
 camps. In fact, with the resumption of his 
 pipe he had inwardly declared his independence. 
 Not but that he was loving and devoted, but 
 he was manly and not made of the weak fibre 
 that would permit the domination of his wife 
 in any of the larger affairs of life. 
 
 "The little woman," he explained to Ranee, 
 as he strolled away with that worthy to the sta- 
 ble for a glimpse at the rival horses, "is that 
 innocent that she has no sabey of the world, 
 and I've got to humor her until she has had 
 some experience. She's afraid I will fall into 
 bad habits, and me casehardened at what I've 
 seen and been through. I reckon before long 
 
 [266]
 
 THE RACES 
 
 she will find I size up pretty well as husbands 
 go, and let up on her foolishness." 
 
 Ranee whistled and broke into a laugh over 
 this new view of Ruth's character, but lapsed 
 into seriousness again as Tex, who did not seem 
 to take his hilarity in good part, resumed: 
 
 "Don't make any mistake, Ranee; she is one 
 of the best little women on earth, but she was 
 nearly spoiled by that first husband of hers. He 
 stuck around the house and tied himself to her 
 apron strings until she was dead tired of seeing 
 him, and he hadn't sense enough to get out of 
 the way once in a while to give her a chance to 
 stack up his virtues against his weaknesses. 
 None of that for me. I want to be out of doors, 
 riding the range, bossing the ranch, and looking 
 after affairs in general; and that is why I am 
 going to have a cattle ranch somewhere in the 
 valley and a ranch house big enough to keep 
 Ruth busy superintending it. That," added 
 Tex, "will divert her mind from dwelling too 
 much on 'biled shirts' and Sunday harness, and 
 we will live in peace and contentment." 
 
 Ranee could not fail to see the good sense 
 and shrewdness of Tex's plans, and heartily com- 
 mended him on his wisdom. 
 
 [267]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 As for Ruth, she soon became accustomed to 
 and rather liked the big fellow's assumption of 
 authority. She was vexed at times when the use 
 of her sharp tongue made no more impression 
 on her husband than the wind whistling through 
 a tree-top. He had a habit of failing to retort, 
 listening to the flow of speech without comment. 
 
 "He was that aggravating," she confided to 
 a sympathetic friend, "he took down his hat, 
 filled his pipe, and walked away without a word, 
 and left me to talk to the four walls. Then I 
 began to think it was a shame to torment so 
 good a husband, and was that anxious for him 
 to come back. Gracious ! What a fool a woman 
 can make of herself over a man!" 
 
 And then Ruth made a confession that indi- 
 cated the affection with which she regarded Tex. 
 
 "You know, I always despised the smell of 
 smoke ; it made me sick, and I would n't tolerate 
 it around where I was. Now, I am that silly that 
 I had rather have the odor of tobacco in the 
 house than Cologne water ; it seems when I sniff 
 it as if he was somewhere close around. Oh! 
 I know I am going to spoil him," she protested, 
 "but I don't care; he's worth it." From which
 
 THE RACES 
 
 it will be seen that the couple bade fair to enjoy 
 a goodly share of conjugal happiness. 
 
 The change of scene apparently served as a 
 tonic to Mrs. Wakefield's depressed spirits. She 
 acted as chaperon for Ranee and Dot or accepted 
 the hospitality of Mrs. Hanchett, who as the 
 wife of the leading citizen was the arbiter of 
 fashion and society in the mountain town. Prac- 
 tical Wakefield devoted a large part of his time 
 to the examination of the principal mines, pick- 
 ing up such knowledge of the improved methods 
 as would be useful to him on his return to The 
 City of Six, while Tex and Ranee, in the inter- 
 vals of absence from Ruth's and Dot's society, 
 found in Hanchett a congenial spirit and became 
 his aids and advisers in his role of master of 
 ceremonies. There were two races billed for each 
 afternoon, and Ranee and Tex, endorsed as 
 square men, were chosen as judges, alternating 
 in this capacity with a couple of visitors from 
 Chipp's Flat and Jericho, who bore like unsullied 
 reputations. 
 
 The first day's contests went off with eclat, 
 for although it was a plunge in the dark as far 
 as the contestants were concerned, it gave every 
 
 [269]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 one an equal chance to exercise horse judgment; 
 and as it turned out, the animals being fairly 
 well matched, the races were close and exciting. 
 On the next day there was to be a change in the 
 programme. In those days foot-racing had not 
 fallen to the depths of trickery and bad faith 
 which characterized it later. There were a num- 
 ber of fast ones in the State, and many were 
 the arguments indulged in by their several sup- 
 porters as to whether Swamp John, Bill Cozad, 
 Soda Jack, or Cherokee Bob was entitled to the 
 championship. They were the noted speedy goers 
 of that era, with occasionally a dark entry who 
 mysteriously appeared upon the scene and con- 
 tested the honors and the liberal stakes that went 
 with them. 
 
 Some two weeks previously Cherokee Bob had 
 wandered into the Flat; and as he had beaten 
 Swamp John in record time in a square race 
 the previous year, the miners regarded him as at 
 the head of the profession. A few days subse- 
 quent to his advent it was whispered about that 
 the gamblers were prepared to produce an un- 
 known and were willing to wager that he could 
 lower Bob's flag. Bob was consulted, and de- 
 clared that there was nothing in the State that 
 
 [270]
 
 THE RACES 
 
 could head him; and on the strength of his 
 assurances the match was made for two thousand 
 dollars a side, to be run in ten days; and Bob 
 went into active training. It leaked out later 
 that his opponent was to be one Harry Vile, an 
 importation from England, presumably a fast 
 one, but just how fast was a problem. Bob's 
 supporters again called him into consultation, 
 and he declared that he knew all about the Eng- 
 lishman's previous performances and that he, 
 Bob, was certain that he could beat the quasi- 
 unknown five feet in a hundred yards. That was 
 enough for the boys, and they called the gamblers' 
 bets whenever offered. The latter demonstrated 
 that they had great confidence in their represen- 
 tative by the amount of money that they were 
 willing to wager on him; and, as a result, when 
 the day for the race came around there was at 
 least twenty thousand dollars pending on the 
 outcome. Of this amount Hanchett, who was a 
 thoroughbred in all directions, had furnished at 
 least a quarter. 
 
 He was somewhat startled the evening before 
 the event when aroused from his slumber by 
 Ranee, who came with a piece of interesting news. 
 Ranee, after the other members of the party had 
 
 [271]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 retired, had withdrawn to a secluded corner of 
 the hotel porch, indulging in pleasant meditations 
 and the seductive influence of a good cigar, and 
 had been an involuntary listener to the confi- 
 dences of a Moore's Flat gambler and a visiting 
 knight of the green cloth from Forest City, the 
 former intent upon imparting to his professional 
 friend what promised to be a profitable secret 
 in connection with the coming foot-race. 
 
 "Get your money down on the Englishman; 
 it 's a cinch," he advised. 
 
 "What makes you think so?" asked the visitor. 
 "Cherokee Bob is a hard man to beat; he has 
 demonstrated what he can do, and it would take 
 a wonder to head him." 
 
 "That has got nothing to do with it; the race 
 is fixed. Bob gets five thousand dollars to 
 stumble and fall just before he reaches the goal 
 and Vile wins the money. These outsiders that 
 are backing the Indian are easy, and it is a shame 
 not to take their cash away from them. The job 
 was put up in Sacramento; we are all in, and 
 Hanchett and his crowd have no suspicion of 
 how they are being played." 
 
 Ranee let the fire die out of his cigar and kept 
 quiet in the background until the two worthies 
 
 [272]
 
 THE RACES 
 
 departed. He had no wagers on the race, nor 
 any particular interest in the outcome, but he 
 despised treachery ; besides, he had taken a liking 
 to his host and did not want to see him the victim 
 of a lot of thieves. After a brief cogitation over 
 the matter, he decided that it would be an honor- 
 able act to put his friend on his guard. Han- 
 chett was somewhat surprised, although not very 
 much perturbed. 
 
 "We will give the hounds a dose of their own 
 medicine, thanks to you, now that their game 
 is exposed"; and so the matter rested until the 
 next morning. 
 
 Then, just before the contest was on, a depu- 
 tation of his backers took Bob aside and held a 
 brief but pointed interview with him. He was 
 asked if he was still certain of his ability to win. 
 
 "I believe," he stammered, "that I can beat 
 him." 
 
 "Didn't you swear to us," retorted Hanchett, 
 "that you had him measured and was sure that 
 you could outrun him?" 
 
 "Yes, but he may be faster than I gave him 
 3redit for," replied the Indian, who began to get 
 i glimmer of the fact that he was in a tight box. 
 
 "All right, he may be," was Hanchett's grim 
 
 [273]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 comment; "but if he is, it v/ill be mighty bad 
 for your health. Now listen. There will be a 
 man stationed at every ten yards along the track 
 from start to finish. Every mother's son of 'em 
 knows how to handle a gun, and at whatever 
 point you are behind, the shooting will begin. 
 Just make up your mind that no low-down Cher- 
 okee can come into this camp and play us for 
 suckers. You said you could win, and you will 
 win, stumble or no stumble; if you don't, you 
 will beat all records into hell, where you belong, 
 you treacherous dog." 
 
 The Cherokee realized that the jig was up, 
 and confessed that he and Vile were confederates 
 and had been brought to the Flat for the express 
 purpose of robbing the miners. 
 
 "If I don't lose," he pleaded, "the gamblers 
 will kill me. What can I do?" 
 
 "My advice is," said Hanchett, "that you keep 
 on running until you reach Snow Point." 
 
 "But my clothes, they are all in town?" 
 
 "We will see that they are brought to you, 
 we will give you your agreed percentage of the 
 stakes, and then you had better get your worth- 
 less carcass out of the county as fast as your 
 legs will carry you." 
 
 [274]
 
 THE RACES 
 
 Needless to say that the Indian was never 
 headed, or to add that he made excellent time up 
 the ridge to Snow Point. The gamblers, goaded 
 to fury by the failure of their plot, were for pur- 
 suing, bringing the Cherokee back, and hanging 
 him ; but here the miners interfered, and the losers 
 were too cautious to precipitate a row with the 
 victors. Crestfallen and chagrined they sub- 
 mitted to their losses with the best grace possible, 
 and the incident closed. 
 
 The trick was subsequently played in other 
 camps with better success, but with the ultimate 
 result of foot-racing being regarded as less hon- 
 orable than holding up stages or robbing sluices. 
 
 The occurrence, while crippling the gamblers' 
 resources, had little effect on the week's sport. 
 In fact, the miners, flush with the spoils, were 
 more reckless than ever and backed their favorites 
 with prodigal profusion; and there were enough 
 minor incidents of a more or less exciting nature 
 to keep the camp in a ferment. One of the most 
 unique of these sprang from the rivalry between 
 the dwellers of Jericho and Gomorrah, two lively 
 hamlets on the slope. Each had picked its fav- 
 orite horse and backed it to the limit. To lend 
 novelty to the race, the jockeys were two well- 
 pro]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 known ladies, about whose morals there was no 
 suspicion, they had none to be suspected of. 
 They rejoiced in the sobriquets of ''French 
 Henrietta" and "Boston Ann," and were so 
 named by a wide circle of acquaintances. These 
 two rode an exciting contest amid the plaudits 
 and encouragement of the novelty-seeking multi- 
 tude. Henrietta created a temporary monetary 
 stringency at Jericho by riding to victory the 
 steed selected by the Gomorrahites, a victory 
 somewhat chastened to the triumphant French- 
 woman by her coming off second-best in a hair- 
 pulling match instituted by the disgruntled Ann 
 as a vent to her anger over the result. 
 
 Minor gun plays were frequent, but none fatal. 
 Red Andy welched on his bets and took to the 
 brush, accelerated by a fusillade of bullets, but he 
 escaped unscathed ; which led Jim Brand to criti- 
 cise severely the marksmanship of the crowd. 
 
 "These fellers could do more execution with 
 a pick handle, and should not be allowed to use 
 a Colt. It's a reflection on the community, for 
 they are that keerless that they will hurt some- 
 body yet; give them a year or two's practice." 
 
 Ranee and Hanchett had become inseparable 
 during the gala days, especially as Mrs. Hanchett 
 
 [276]
 
 THE RACES 
 
 had taken Dot under her wing; and the spicy 
 flavor of the races and the attending sporting 
 enthusiasts lent an irresistible charm to the amuse- 
 ment. Lon was a good judge of horseflesh, 
 picked the winners with prescience, and as Ranee 
 and the ladies followed his lead, it resulted in 
 a quite substantial gain, as they found that their 
 pocket money had increased in a very satisfactory 
 way. Dot was a little shocked at the beginning, 
 for this was her first experience in the uncon- 
 ventional^atmosphere of a mining camp, and the 
 license disturbed her idea of the proprieties. The 
 City of Six had been an exception preserved, 
 as it was, from the influences that made for the 
 new life elsewhere. But she was a sensible girl 
 and perhaps a little flattered by the deference 
 that was paid her ; and as care was taken that she 
 did not come in contact with the baser elements, 
 she did not realize how far toleration went, or 
 just how much of a mixture the conditions stood 
 for. Ruth had had more experience and was 
 rather critical in her condemnation of the "shame- 
 less hussies" who were so much in evidence; but 
 even she enjoyed the excitement and change of 
 scene, and found little fault with Tex in his active 
 and eager participation in the sports. 
 
 [277]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 Wakefield betrayed but little interest in the 
 events which made the week a notable one in the 
 Moore's Flat annals, but he formed the acquaint- 
 ance of various foremen, shift bosses, and lead- 
 ing miners, and found much profit and instruction 
 in getting posted on all the latest improvements 
 and devices brought into play in drift mining. 
 He had decided to devote himself with Mike to 
 the calling ; it appealed to him not only from the 
 profit point of view, but also from the sense of 
 power and independence that was a fascinating 
 part of it. The fact that competition was elim- 
 inated, that one mine's prosperity did not in- 
 fringe on or detract from another's, that there 
 was a ready market for the product and no 
 fluctuation in prices, that labor benefited equally 
 with capital, all this interested him, and he had 
 no desire to abandon the field and go elsewhere. 
 Now that his strange hallucination had fallen 
 away from him, the mountains seemed to stand 
 for sanity and peace; and as there was no stress 
 or strain, The City of Six would be his abiding 
 place as long as the golden shower continued to 
 fall. When it ceased, it would be time to take 
 up other problems. 
 
 [278]
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 MRS. WAKEFEELD'S ELOPEMENT 
 
 npHERE had been a change in Mrs. Wake- 
 field's humor. While she had taken no active 
 part in the week's festivities, not even as a looker- 
 on, she had lost her querulousness and seemed to 
 be fairly /content. There had been some planning 
 as to the future. They would depart for the city 
 before the first snow, Tex and Ruth, Ranee, 
 Dot, and herself. It had been decided that Dot 
 and Ranee would be married at San Francisco, 
 and it was understood that Mrs. Wakefield would 
 accompany the happy pair on a visit to Ranee's 
 birthplace, returning in the spring. The plan 
 was acquiesced in by Wakefield, who was per- 
 suaded that travel would go far to restore his 
 wife to her normal state. Without attempting 
 to analyze the cause, beyond attributing it to the 
 strain on her nerves in enduring his recent aber- 
 rations, he felt that there had risen a bar between 
 them. She was no longer the woman he had 
 wedded in the old village and with whom he had 
 led the simple life. There was coldness, discon- 
 
 [279]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tent, depression, which she had hardly striven to 
 conceal ; but he charged it all to a woman's whims 
 and did not give it the consideration that a more 
 suspicious or less practical man would have 
 entertained. It would do her good to see a little 
 of the world, and, as Ruth said, "she would get 
 rid of some of her notions." 
 
 Ranee wondered why he had not seen Brant 
 during his stay. He knew that the fellow was 
 at the Flat and was closing up his affairs with 
 the avowed intent of quitting the country. It 
 was not an involved business that necessitated 
 any delay, as it merely meant taking down the 
 capital employed in the backing of the sundry 
 gambling games. Ranee was rather pleased that 
 the man avoided him, for he was still indignant 
 over his treachery, and a meeting might have 
 resulted in an encounter. However, he believed 
 that Mike's admonitions had been effectual, and 
 that if there had existed any undue intimacy it 
 had been broken off. 
 
 The party was to leave Sunday morning for 
 The City of Six and then hasten preparations for 
 the journey to San Francisco. Saturday would 
 be the great day of the week, as two unbeaten 
 horses, each having won from all opponents, were 
 
 [280]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD'S ELOPEMENT 
 
 to measure heels, and they were so equally 
 matched that the camp was divided as to their 
 merits. 
 
 The day had furnished an exciting incident 
 that was quite out of the programme. At that 
 time the notorious Tom Bell and his gang were 
 raiding the roads and trails of the section, rob- 
 bing stages and holding up travellers, not hesi- 
 tating to add violence and murder to their depre- 
 dations. There was a reward of five thousand 
 dollars offered for the capture of Bell, dead or 
 alive, preferably dead, and various posses had 
 tried their best to earn it, although without suc- 
 cess. He was an audacious scoundrel, making 
 many bold forays, and his operations had become 
 a serious and intolerable tax on the mountain- 
 dwellers. Indignation rose to fever point that 
 afternoon when he with his followers invaded the 
 outskirts of the race course, where the gamblers 
 had set up a tent and were running various 
 games, coolly covered the occupants with re- 
 volvers, gathered in the piles of coin, and rode off 
 with the booty, amounting to several thousand 
 dollars. As the raid was made during a race, 
 there were but few in the tent and no resistance 
 was offered. A hue and cry was raised, but be- 
 
 [281]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 fore a posse could be organized for pursuit, the 
 highwaymen were miles away and out of danger 
 of capture. Naturally, the incident was discussed 
 in all its bearings, and the authorities denounced 
 for not having run down and exterminated the 
 robbers during the months that they had terror- 
 ized the country; but it was forgotten that this 
 task had been attempted and half a dozen good 
 men had lost their lives, when the gang, brought 
 to bay, outfought and defeated their pursuers. 
 
 The final race, which by process of elimination 
 had brought together antagonists of fairly 
 matched speed, was productive of the wildest 
 excitement and the most reckless betting. The 
 crowd backed its particular choice without limit, 
 and thousands of dollars were wagered on the 
 result. Hanchett, as the leading man of the 
 camp, was a favorite stakeholder. After filling 
 all other receptacles with the coin forced upon 
 him in that capacity, he was compelled to use his 
 hat, which was soon loaded to the brim with slugs 
 (locally coined gold pieces valued at fifty dol- 
 lars) and became a somewhat embarrassing im- 
 pediment, not only by its weight but also from 
 the fact that in the confusion Hanchett lost all 
 track of betters and the amounts, and could only 
 
 [282]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD'S ELOPEMENT 
 
 trust to luck in the settlement. As it turned 
 out, the race over, he paid off all demands made, 
 and to his surprise found himself the possessor of 
 a surplus of three hundred dollars, which re- 
 mained unidentified and uncalled for. 
 
 Altogether, the Moore's Flatters and the visi- 
 tors were content with their entertainment. The 
 San Juan livery man was paid a percentage of 
 three thousand dollars for furnishing the stock, 
 besides disposing of the speediest of the animals 
 at a handsome profit; the boys had a bushel of 
 fun and a welcome relaxation from their toil ; and 
 as one of the philosophic put it, "if money cir- 
 culated pretty freely, the winners and losers be- 
 longed to the local camps, and the coin stayed at 
 home." 
 
 Our party, somewhat wearied with the high 
 tension of the week's events, rather welcomed the 
 close and were quite willing to exchange it for 
 the repose and comparative sedateness of their 
 own abiding place." It was understood that on 
 the next morning the return journey should be 
 made. Mike had come over on the last day, 
 "just for a taste of the fun," as he put it, and 
 joined his friends at supper that evening, to 
 which, by the way, Hanchett and his good wife 
 
 [283]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 had been invited. A special and abundant feast 
 was provided by the landlady. 
 
 It was supposed that Mrs. Wakefield had 
 passed the day at their cosy home, she having 
 pleaded fatigue and a waning interest in the 
 amusement as an excuse for non-attendance at 
 the track. The guests arrived without her, and 
 they were surprised when the landlady explained 
 that she had returned to the hotel early in the 
 afternoon, had been met by Phillips, and that the 
 pair had departed on horseback in company, 
 presumably for a ride down the ridge. As it 
 was by this time quite dark, her absence seemed 
 strange, and Ranee and Mike, with their knowl- 
 edge of the relationship suspected to have existed 
 between the pair, intuitively jumped at a similar 
 conclusion and saw in the situation a premedi- 
 tated flight. Shocked beyond expression, they 
 refrained from comment until by a common im- 
 pulse they had withdrawn from the table and met 
 outside. Mike exclaimed: 
 
 "There's not a doubt of it; they've gone off 
 together and the divil 's to pay, sure. There will 
 be an awful scandal unless we can manage to 
 kape it quiet; but how can we explain our sus- 
 picions to the rist of them?" 
 
 [284]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD'S ELOPEMENT 
 
 "Explain nothing! There is but one thing to 
 do follow them, kill the d d scoundrel, and 
 bring her back with as little fuss as possible. 
 My God! how can I tell Dot? Think of the dis- 
 grace of it to the poor innocent girl." 
 
 "What about the ould man?" speculated Mike. 
 "Won't it make him looney again? Now, if it 
 was me, I 'd say, let her go, and a good riddance ; 
 but ye can niver tell how the other fellow will 
 take it. Still, he ought to be killed, and I '11 be 
 glad to do it. They must have taken the trail 
 down the Backbone Ridge to Nevada, or one 
 down the Middle Fork striking for Marysville, 
 and they have six hours the start. Let 's call out 
 Tex and Hanchett, confide the circumstances to 
 them, and then follow." 
 
 Ranee, in an agony of rage and apprehension, 
 agreed, and it was done. 
 
 Tex was stupefied over the perfidy of the 
 elopers, but as indignant and eager for revenge 
 as his comrades. Hanchett, to whom it was all 
 new, entered into the proposed pursuit heartily. 
 
 " Phillips is a heartless, cold-blooded scoundrel, 
 and if we overtake him we won't waste any 
 powder unless it is necessary. I will take along 
 my reata and we will hang him like a dog to the 
 
 [285]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 nearest tree. Saddle your horses, and we will 
 be off at once." 
 
 "But what will we say to the women? We 
 must make some excuse for our departure," said 
 Ranee. 
 
 "Tell them nothing," replied Mike, "that is, 
 don't drag in the man's name until we have to. 
 Say she went out a-riding on a little pasear, has 
 probably got lost in the chaparral, and we will 
 find her and bring her home very soon. Tex, 
 you go in and give Mrs. Ruth the explanation 
 and then join us as quick as you can." 
 
 "That is sensible," interjected Hanchett; "and 
 to avoid the outside talk tell my wife to take the 
 ladies up to my house and wait there until we 
 get back or they hear from us." 
 
 The programme was carried out ; but they had 
 overlooked Wakefield, who at this juncture 
 joined them. It was a critical moment, but 
 Ranee had the presence of mind to explain the 
 situation on the "lost" theory, which, as the hus- 
 band was still unsuspicious, he accepted without 
 demur. He hastened to the stable to get his horse 
 and join the "searching party." It was agreed 
 on his departure that he should be kept in igno- 
 
 [286]
 
 MRS. WAKEFIELD'S ELOPEMENT 
 
 ranee of the real facts until developments forced 
 further explanation. 
 
 In a few minutes they were mounted and off 
 on a blind trail, a puzzling problem as to where 
 it would lead or what might be the outcome. 
 Wakefield's presence complicated matters, as it 
 forbade discussion of the real object of the 
 expedition. 
 
 Ranee and Mike pushed ahead out of hearing 
 distance, and Mike suggested that they ride on 
 until they reached the Mountain House, some 
 ten miles down the ridge, and there they could 
 learn whether the couple had passed during the 
 day. If not, they were fleeing toward Marys- 
 ville, and the pursuers could cut across the 
 country and intercept them at that point. On 
 reaching the inn it was learned that nothing had 
 been seen of them; and as it was now midnight, 
 they decided to remain until daylight. It was 
 a dangerous ride, the night being dark and moon- 
 less, and Mike argued that the pair would be 
 forced to halt on their way until morning, so 
 nothing would be lost by the delay. 
 
 At sunrise they started again, taking the 
 Bloody Run trail to the river ; they had gone only 
 
 [287]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 a couple of miles when they were met by a trav- 
 eller, who gave them a bit of startling news. 
 
 "There is a dead man lying on the trail half 
 a mile below here," he informed them. "Mur- 
 dered, I reckon. I saw that he had been shot, and 
 that was all. I thought it best to get out of that 
 neighborhood as soon as possible. If you are 
 going down that way, you will see the body on 
 the left-hand side of the path. Must have been 
 there all night, for it is as stiff as a poker." 
 
 It was a malodorous section, and Bloody Run 
 had been the scene of many murders and rob- 
 beries ; neither Ranee nor Mike had any particu- 
 lar interest in the news, beyond natural curiosity 
 and sympathy for an unknown victim. The 
 traveller left, promising to inform the people at 
 the Mountain House, so that the authorities 
 should be notified.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 "DUSKING on, Ranee and Mike again took 
 the lead, out of earshot of the others. 
 
 "We can't play up this lost theory much 
 longer," said Mike. "Wakefield is already get- 
 ting suspicious and asking why we are kaping 
 to the trails, or making inquiries at the miners' 
 cabins, and why we should go to the river instid 
 of hunting around the ridge. I think it will be 
 best to halt down below here and tell him the 
 truth." 
 
 Ranee gloomily agreed, and it was so decided ; 
 but the trail was steep, and they rode on until 
 they could find a halting-place where they could 
 dismount. They reined in their horses on a little 
 bench a few hundred rods farther on, and here, 
 as the remainder of the party joined them, they 
 made a discovery that led them at once to revoke 
 their decision. On the oak-covered knoll of not 
 more than a couple of hundred feet in area, they 
 found the murdered man, face downward, fingers 
 clutched in the grass roots, hair matted and wet 
 
 [289]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 with blood oozed from a bullet hole in his skull. 
 To both there was something strangely familiar 
 in the corpse, and the thought came simultan- 
 eously to the pursuers that their hunt had ended, 
 and that so far as they were concerned their 
 quarry had escaped their vengeance. 
 
 "By God! it's Brant Phillips," cried Ranee, 
 as they leaped from their saddles, and approached 
 the lifeless figure. They turned the body over, 
 gazing at the white, bloodless face and dilated 
 eyes staring into the unknown. For a brief time 
 silence fell upon them, each busy with his own 
 thoughts. They would have meted out the same 
 fate had they overtaken him, and yet in the pres- 
 ence of death there was a revulsion of sentiment 
 at his tragic end, succeeded by a feeling of relief 
 that his blood was not on their hands. 
 
 Tex spoke first. 
 
 "He's been robbed and murdered without 
 doubt," his theory confirmed by the absence of 
 any valuables or arms. A survey of the ground 
 roundabout gave no evidence of a struggle ; there 
 were many hoof -prints, and the grass was beaten 
 down, and that was all. 
 
 " He must have been shot from ambush, taken 
 unawares," commented Hanchett, "for he was 
 
 [290]
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 quick on the trigger and as brave as they make 
 'em. He was riding his own animal, Selim, as 
 good a saddle horse as there was on the ridge; 
 and as he was leaving for good and must have 
 had a lot of money with him, somebody got onto 
 it and waylaid him on the trail. They have taken 
 his horse and saddle bags, and are miles away by 
 this time." 
 
 "But the woman, where is she?" excitedly 
 queried Tex. 
 
 "What woman?" demanded Wakefield, upon 
 whom it suddenly flashed that the woman re- 
 ferred to was his wife, who for some strange 
 reason had been in company with the outcast 
 gambler. "Why do you ask for a woman? 
 What is it that you are concealing from me? Is 
 it my wife that you mean? And is this why you 
 have followed the trail instead of looking for 
 her on the mountain?" 
 
 Ranee came to the rescue, and placing his 
 hand soothingly on Wakefield's shoulder, replied, 
 
 "Yes, old man, we think your wife was with 
 him. They left the Flat together, but there is 
 nothing particularly wrong about that. They 
 were very friendly, and she probably rode out a 
 ways on the trail with him to bid him good-bye. 
 
 [291]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 It was imprudent, of course, but she never gave 
 that a thought. The chances are that she left 
 him on the ridge and has returned to town, and 
 that is where you had better go without delay." 
 
 It was a rather lame hypothesis, although the 
 best Ranee could muster in the exigency of the 
 moment, and it was far from convincing. Wake- 
 field revolved in his mind many little incidents 
 subsequent to his return to sanity, her coldness, 
 apparent alienation, distaste for her home and 
 its surroundings; but in the whirl of his brain 
 he took counsel with himself and betrayed no 
 outward sign of the truth that was forcing itself 
 on his consciousness. 
 
 "It may be as you say, Ranee; anyway, what- 
 ever it is, she must be found," he answered. 
 " God grant no harm has come to her." 
 
 The listeners were agreeably surprised at his 
 calmness and relieved that the revelation had not 
 upset him. They knew nothing of the turmoil 
 that racked him, or the stubborn pride that con- 
 cealed it. The imminent question was, what was 
 to be done? It was decided that Tex, Mike, and 
 Hanchett should return to the Mountain House, 
 conveying Phillips's body with them. 
 
 "We will give the dog a decent burial, if noth- 
 
 [292]
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 ing else," said Hanchett ; while Ranee and Wake- 
 field were to follow the trail to the river, in the 
 hope of getting some clue to Mrs. Wakefield. 
 Careful search was made of the vicinity for some 
 sign of her presence at the tragedy; but none 
 was found, and the party separated. Tex was 
 to ride on to the Flat, comfort the women to the 
 best of his ability, but under no circumstances 
 to reveal the facts, or give any information that 
 would start scandal's tongue. Hanchett and 
 Mike would stay at the inn until Ranee and 
 Wakefield returned, or sent word of their suc- 
 cess; and with this understanding the party 
 separated. 
 
 "I see it all," said Wakefield. "Don't try to 
 deceive me. Unhappy woman, the temptation 
 was too great, and I am much to blame. I am 
 grateful, if no harm has come to her, that she 
 has only grazed the precipice and not fallen over. 
 Think of the disgrace to Dot! You will tell her 
 as little as possible, Ranee, won't you?" and the 
 sorely afflicted man looked appealingly at his 
 comrade. 
 
 " I '11 tell her nothing, old man," replied Ranee. 
 "Why should she be made to suffer? That is, 
 if we can find your wife and nothing more seri- 
 
 [293]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ous than we know of has happened to her. I 
 have a presentiment that we will locate her down 
 at one of the river camps. The chances are that 
 she escaped and rode down the trail while the 
 assassins were robbing their victim. Let us hurry 
 on; and keep up your courage, Wakefield, it 
 will turn out all right," and he put spurs to his 
 horse and loped away down the slope. 
 
 They had ridden in silence for a mile or more 
 and had reached the plateau above the stream 
 where the chaparral ceased and the mountain 
 sloped off gently to the river, when Ranee spied 
 a woman crouched under a pine tree a hundred 
 yards from the path, and silently motioning to 
 Wakefield to follow, he was by her side in a 
 moment. 
 
 One glance showed it was the one for whom 
 they were searching. Wakefield sprang to her 
 side as she arose and staggered toward him, and 
 his stout arms supported her as she gave a sob 
 and fell fainting on his breast. She was a pitiable 
 sight, hollow-eyed and tear-stained, hands and 
 face scratched and bleeding, hair fallen down, 
 dress torn and disarranged; there was every evi- 
 dence of some terrible experience which had come 
 to her in her flight. A great pity welled up in 
 
 [294]
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 Wakefield's heart as she lay helpless and uncon- 
 scious in his arms, and a boundless gratitude that 
 she was alive. 
 
 A stream of water trickled down a little ravine 
 close by; to this they carried her and bathed her 
 face, and were rewarded by her return to con- 
 sciousness. Slowly she gathered in her mind the 
 experience of the hours since she had fled from 
 the Flat, her compunctions and regrets, her reso- 
 lution to return, and the dominance over her will 
 by her companion; and as she realized that her 
 husband had knowledge of her guilty escapade, 
 the blood suffused her face and she shrank away 
 from his embrace, remorseful and ashamed. 
 
 Ranee thoughtfully retired out of earshot and 
 there remained until Wakefield summoned him 
 back and the wife had gathered sufficient com- 
 posure to give a somewhat coherent account of 
 the tragedy of which she had been a witness and 
 a victim. Without dwelling on the circumstances 
 that had made her a companion of Phillips on 
 the trail, she related that they were riding to- 
 gether, and that when they reached the bench 
 where his body was found, without warning a 
 shot was fired from the bushes and he tumbled 
 from the saddle without a cry. Horrified and 
 
 [295]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 frightened beyond measure, she urged her horse 
 down the trail, but was overtaken by two men, 
 who ordered her to stop and led her back to 
 the knoll. Here were three more, one holding the 
 horses, among which was the victim's, and the 
 other two rifling the dead man's clothes and ex- 
 ploring the saddle bags. 
 
 The leader, a blond giant whom she afterward 
 learned was no other than the notorious Tom 
 Bell, roughly inquired who she was and where she 
 was going with her companion. 
 
 "Brant had no use for women," he commented ; 
 "you must have been a newcomer at the Flat. 
 Damn him, I 'm even with him ; he had his shot 
 at me over at San Juan when the posse struck 
 my trail a year ago; he won't volunteer to hunt 
 highwaymen any more. Say it was Tom Bell 
 and his men, and that a gambler more or less 
 don't matter." 
 
 She would have gladly departed ; but the men, 
 two villainous whites and a couple of Greasers, 
 remonstrated. 
 
 "Better take her down to the river and turn 
 her loose there. No use of getting them at our 
 heels too soon." 
 
 "All right. Fling the carrion in the bushes 
 
 [296]
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 and come along," he ordered. They started down 
 the trail, leading her horse by the bridle until 
 they came to a canyon making out from the river. 
 Into this they turned, an almost inaccessible re- 
 treat, and there they forcibly detained her until 
 daylight, when they departed, leaving her to find 
 her way out as best she could. 
 
 The horrors of that night can only be lightly 
 touched upon. The miserable woman would 
 have gladly welcomed death ; but this was denied 
 her, and she grew faint again as she recalled the 
 experience of the past hours. After their de- 
 parture she tottered and crawled to the spot 
 where found. She remembered little more until 
 she realized that she was in her husband's arms. 
 
 The recital over, Wakefield and Ranee con- 
 sulted on the best course to take; at all hazards 
 the woman was to be shielded as much as pos- 
 sible. It was finally determined that Wakefield 
 should cross the river with his wife, follow up 
 Kanaka Creek to the Alleghany Ridge, and 
 thence with all despatch to The City of Six, seek- 
 ing the home refuge; Ranee would return to the 
 Mountain House, inform Mike, Tex, and Han- 
 chett of the developments, swear secrecy among 
 themselves as to the woman's part in the adven- 
 
 [297]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 ture, get to the Flat quietly, and with Mrs. Ruth 
 and Dot leave for their own camp without delay. 
 
 Fortunately, so far as known, no one was 
 aware of Mrs. Wakefield's departure with Phil- 
 lips, except the landlady, and it was believed 
 that the facts could be kept secret. The murder 
 of the gambler would not create much of a sen- 
 sation; it was only another crime added to Tom 
 Bell's record; and to those who knew the true 
 state of affairs his removal was a timely and 
 special providence. 
 
 Ranee, on reaching the inn, said nothing as 
 to Mrs. Wakefield's part beyond relating that 
 she had fled when the shot was fired and escaped 
 to the settlement on the river where they found 
 her. 
 
 Hanchett took it upon himself to keep the mat- 
 ter as quiet as possible. The usual inquest was 
 held over the gambler's remains, a verdict of 
 "robbed and murdered by Tom Bell and gang" 
 arrived at; and beyond current comment among 
 his kind the incident closed, and Brant Phillips 
 lay in his unhonored grave. 
 
 What transpired between Wakefield and his 
 wife on that sad journey back to The City of Six 
 did not come to light. The man never alluded
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 to it to Ranee, or any one else, and whether he 
 forgave or not remained a secret. The wretched 
 woman was both mentally and physically a wreck, 
 and for many days hovered between life and 
 death. Dot took upon herself the duty of nurse, a 
 task she most faithfully and lovingly performed. 
 Mrs. Ruth gladly would have shared it with her, 
 but both man and wife absolutely declined, and 
 insisted that the misfortune should in no way 
 interfere with the plans of Tex and Ruth. 
 Ranee fathomed this reluctance and advised his 
 comrade to start out on his quest for the hacienda 
 which he had coveted in his daydreams, promising 
 that as soon as the patient had recovered suffi- 
 ciently and the cattle ranch had become a reality, 
 the party as originally intended would make their 
 visit to the coast lands and accept the hospitality 
 of their old comrade. If Mrs. Ruth did remark 
 to her lord that "no good ever came of gallivant- 
 ing around the country with scandalous char- 
 acters" (forgetting that she had not only toler- 
 ated the gambler but had held him up to Tex's 
 eyes as worthy of imitation), it was only 
 because she felt annoyed that her volunteered 
 assistance had been declined. Good soul, she was 
 all charity, and gladly would have sacrificed her 
 
 [299]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 own comfort if allowed. A week later, they left 
 for San Francisco and regretfully turned away 
 from the little camp that had seen the beginning 
 and culmination of their romance. 
 
 Of course, her mother's illness necessarily in- 
 terfered with Dot's marriage. 
 
 "I can't leave her, can I, Ranee? And you 
 will wait, won't you?" shyly but confidently she 
 asked her lover. And the gallant swain, protest- 
 ing that it was a hardship that was not to be 
 denied agreed to bide the time patiently, pro- 
 vided that it should not be too prolonged a wait 
 and that the patient did not monopolize all of 
 her hours. So it came about that the porch had 
 another occupant, and Ranee's visit to his old 
 home was postponed until the fates became more 
 propitious. 
 
 Rather strangely, as both Mike and Ranee 
 thought, the happening seemed not to have 
 affected Wakefield very deeply. A squaw who 
 had taken kindly to Ruth's tuition and had ab- 
 sorbed a little civilization in the performance of 
 household duties, was installed as Dot's assistant 
 and performed the household drudgery, encour- 
 aged by wage and fare that made her the envy 
 of her tribe ; while Tong, the Chinaman, who was 
 
 [300]
 
 FINDING THE LOST SHEEP 
 
 now the recipient of that anticipated "one 
 bundled dolla hap," to which he had aspired, 
 took upon himself the preparation of various 
 delicacies for the household, dishes the knowledge 
 of which he had acquired in Ruth's service and 
 which he faithfully and skilfully imitated. 
 
 "You sabe Missy Luth?" he inquired of his 
 chief assistant. "No, you no belly much sabe 
 Missy. She say, 'Tong, why you no Chlistian? 
 You good man?' I say, 'What fo'? Spose no 
 shave head, have clothes all same Tex, have one 
 joss, what good? Melican man callee me damn 
 Chinaman, allee same.' She say, 'Tong, you 
 heathen,' she talkee, talkee allee day. Chlis- 
 tian woman too much talkee, but I no likee Missy 
 go way. She belly good woman. Bimeby she 
 catchee lanch, maybe I go too," and Tong shook 
 his head sadly and went about his duties like 
 one forlorn. He had become accustomed to 
 Ruth's flow of language and he missed it; there 
 was an oppressive silence, a lack of the spur, a 
 stillness in the atmosphere as noticeable as the 
 sudden stop of a mill, or the hush of a buzzing 
 saw checked in its revolutions, and Tong rebelled 
 at the unaccustomed quiet. Besides, he was 
 grateful to her, for she had rescued him from 
 
 [301]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 abuse and contumely. Under her protection no 
 one had dared do him despite, and although he 
 betrayed no outward emotion on her leaving and 
 was as stolid and impassive as a stone image, his 
 assistant was forced to listen to a long eulogy 
 of her virtues, delivered in guttural Chinese; 
 and privately Tong propitiated the heathen gods 
 and burned punk and written prayers in sup- 
 plication that she might be favored by all the 
 calendar of heathen deities. 
 
 [302]
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 WAKEFIELD'S PURPOSE OF REVENGE 
 
 T T IS comrades were in error as to Wakefield's 
 supposed apathy. He had been deeply 
 wounded by his wife's inconstancy and stirred 
 to the depths by the tortures and indignities she 
 had suffered. He granted a measure of pallia- 
 tion for the former as being himself the inciting, 
 if innocent, cause; his strange mental affliction, 
 he reasoned, being the root and foundation of her 
 estrangement. If her feet had strayed into for- 
 bidden paths and her love waned, that might be 
 pardoned, although there could never, he reas- 
 oned, come a renewal of the old ties, in that 
 direction he believed himself implacable. He had 
 neither reproached nor pitied, but had agreed 
 to shield her from the consequences of her mad 
 act even to the point of concealing the truth 
 from the daughter. In fact, he was more than 
 anxious to compass the latter task. Dot in her 
 innocence was persuaded that her mother, per- 
 haps imprudently but with no wrong intent, had 
 accompanied the gambler on an afternoon ride, 
 
 [303]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 and that both would have returned before the 
 night fell had not the tragedy intervened; and 
 that the shock and horror of being an unwilling 
 witness to the assassination had been too much 
 of a nervous strain, resulting in prostrating her. 
 There was but one thing to do, nurse her back 
 to health; then all would be well again. And 
 there were compensations for Dot. The patient 
 was kept under the influence of sedatives, and 
 there were many precious minutes during the day 
 when she could be left to slumber, minutes when, 
 seeking the porch, Dot found the waiting Ranee. 
 Glorious hours they were, made happier by con- 
 fident youth and trusting love planning life's 
 pilgrimage together; a future serene and un- 
 troubled; a paradise into which the two would 
 enter with no angel with flaming sword to bar 
 the way. Happy daydreams they were, and 
 Ranee was careful to cast no doubting shadow 
 on the roseate prospect. 
 
 Wakefield, who had taken up his abode in the 
 office and begun in earnest sharing the super- 
 vision of the mine with Mike, visited the house 
 daily to inquire as to the sick woman's condition, 
 seemingly anxious to learn of her progress toward 
 recovery; but his stay was brief and somewhat 
 
 [304]
 
 A PURPOSE OF REVENGE 
 
 perfunctory, although he was always pleased 
 to hear of her improvement. At the end of a 
 month she had regained sufficient strength to be 
 pronounced out of danger ; when satisfied of this 
 he had a confidential talk with Ranee, in which, 
 much to the latter's surprise, he announced his 
 determination to wreak revenge on the murder- 
 ous gang responsible for her wrongs. 
 
 "I can never rest easy," he insisted, "so long 
 as they cumber the earth. It is not a question 
 of bringing them to j ustice ; I am possessed with 
 the desire to exterminate them the thought of 
 their living keeps me at fever heat. I have a 
 lust for revenge, and until it is satisfied I cannot 
 have a moment of content. 
 
 "No, Ranee," he continued, in reply to his 
 comrade's expostulations, "it may be a mania, 
 but you need not fear for my reason. I have 
 concluded that it is my duty to mete out to them 
 the punishment which you will not dispute they 
 deserve. Now that my wife has regained her 
 health, or is in a fair way to do so, I can safely 
 commit her to your and Dot's care, and leave 
 you all for a time. If I don't come back, what 
 difference? Perhaps it would be better. Ranee," 
 and Wakefield was fairly overcome by emo- 
 
 [305]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 tion, "I could not love you more if you were 
 my own son; and what little happiness is left 
 for me is the knowledge that Dot is to become 
 your wife. You are sure that this thing has 
 made no difference in your feelings toward her?" 
 and he looked wistfully at Ranee for confirma- 
 tion of his hopes. 
 
 Ranee indignantly repudiated the possibility 
 of any change in the state of his affections and 
 renewed his efforts to dissuade his partner from 
 what he pronounced a mad project. 
 
 "What can you do single-handed against such 
 a gang of murderous villains?" he pleaded. 
 "Why not abandon them to the inevitable fate 
 that will overtake them? They run their race, 
 and in the end perish like dogs. Let us leave 
 the mine to Mike that will be no hardship to 
 him, although he is delighted to think that you 
 are coming back to share the responsibility of 
 managing it, and we will indulge in a holiday. 
 We are rich enough to afford it. Take your 
 wife and go with Dot and me to the South. 
 It will be well to leave The City of Six, for a 
 time at least, and forget the incidents of the 
 past month or two." 
 
 Wakefield shook his head negatively. "No, 
 
 [306]
 
 A PURPOSE OF REVENGE 
 
 Ranee, it is impossible. Happily, Dot knows 
 nothing of the truth, and why need she? Why 
 bring this misery into her young life when she 
 can be spared? Hurry up the marriage and 
 take her away from here. Make your visit to 
 your old home and leave me to my devices." 
 
 "Why include in your programme so perilous 
 a mission as the extermination of Bell's gang?" 
 questioned Ranee. "As between yourself and 
 wife I have nothing to say. The dog of a 
 gambler is dead, and my only regret is that I 
 did not have the chance of killing him. That 
 was Mike's and my errand when we started in 
 pursuit. Why not let that end the tragedy?" 
 
 "I really don't know, Ranee," replied Wake- 
 field. "I have been in a mental hell for the 
 past month, as you can well understand, and 
 it has come to me that it would be a relief to 
 hunt down the hounds, a pursuit that will at 
 least change the scene, a distraction, a recreation ; 
 anything that will divert my mind from its 
 present state. If all goes well, I will in time 
 get back here; if not, well, that will be the end 
 of trouble." 
 
 Ranee could only acquiesce. The situation 
 was a delicate and complicated one, and he did 
 
 [307]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 not see his own way out clearly. He sympa- 
 thized to some extent with Wakefield in his 
 resentment toward his wife; and yet for Dot's 
 sake she must be considered. Besides, he was 
 impatient and longed to hasten the time that 
 would make Dot his own, and the woman was 
 an obstacle. Would Dot consent to a separation 
 from her mother? And if not, could he submit 
 to her companionship? He pitied the stricken 
 woman; her sin had been without excuse, her 
 punishment swift ; he had his own chivalric ideas 
 of honor and faith, and perhaps like Wakefield 
 he could not have easily forgiven. It was a 
 problem that he would necessarily have to leave 
 to the future for solution; and so, grasping his 
 comrade's hand in a grip of affection, he ceased 
 to argue and left it to the future to unravel the 
 tangle. 
 
 [308]
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 DOT'S MARRIAGE AND OTHER MATTERS 
 
 ri^HE season had been a late one, and although 
 it was the middle of December and there 
 had come an occasional flurry of snow, the 
 ground was still bare and the way to the valley 
 lay unimpeded. At the mine operations con- 
 tinued on the same large scale and with as profit- 
 able results as at any time in its history; but 
 Mike, talking confidentially with his two part- 
 ners, said, 
 
 "I have me doubts if it will hould out for 
 another sason. The channel is running along 
 the base of the mountain instead of into it; and 
 if it don't take a turn it will chop off at Hog 
 Canyon, and there we will lose it. The rist of 
 it has been cut away for half a mile and gone 
 down into the river. No wonder the bed of the 
 river below is richer than mud ; the goold in those 
 claims was a contribution from the ancient 
 strame that run through our purty camp in 
 the days before Ireland was known to the 
 geographers. 
 
 [309]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "Ah, well," he philosophized, "a foine slice 
 of it was left, enough to make us all comfortable, 
 to say the laste. What is this I hear about your 
 going away? Bad cess to you all, laving me a 
 lonely man for the winter. I wouldn't mind it 
 if Wakefield was to stay, for that would be one 
 responsible person to kape me company; but 
 what wid Tex getting married, taking away the 
 cook, and getting the cattle fever, and Ranee 
 there of no account whativer, I am as ye might 
 say, 'without resoorces.' I'll be going for a 
 change mesilf. I'm feeling the necessity for a 
 little laisure ; it 's to the valley I '11 go and hunt 
 me up a farm ; and it 's pigs I '11 raise, they 're 
 more sociable than cattle; and in the manetime, 
 until I am comfortably settled, it 's a new man- 
 ager ye can have for the choosing." 
 
 Of course, Mike did not mean it, although 
 he was disgruntled over the prospect of being 
 left alone by his comrades; but his occupation 
 was too congenial to be abandoned, and his 
 remonstrance was more banter than earnestness. 
 
 Wakefield assured him that his absence would 
 be a temporary one, Mike surmising that it was 
 a visit to the city to be present at his daughter's 
 marriage. He had no inkling of the real pur- 
 
 [310J
 
 DOT'S MARRIAGE 
 
 pose of the journey and the prospect of Wake- 
 field's early return was reassuring. 
 
 "Ranee, me bye," he continued, "I envy ye. 
 Ye 're taking away the sweetest flower in the 
 mountains, although I'm not saying ye don't 
 desarve her; and I'm thinking there'll be no 
 finer couple anywhere. It's a favor that I do 
 be asking. There will be a draft for a thousand 
 dollars in your name at Adams & Company's 
 Bank whin you rache the city, and ye 're to buy 
 the finest pair of stones ye can get for the money, 
 rale diamonds, and big ones, for to hang in her 
 little ears. Tell her they're Mike's prisint, and 
 the blessing of Hiven be on both of yez." 
 
 He was not to be gainsaid, this tried and true 
 comrade, to whose loyalty, skill, and devotion 
 they were so much indebted for their prosperity. 
 There was but little said in reply men of their 
 stamp seldom indulge in the visible emotions, 
 but there came to them a realization of the 
 depth and enduring bond of that old tie of 
 "partners," that affection founded on and ce- 
 mented by comradeship through good and evil, 
 closer than that of brothers, and of which there 
 were so many notable examples in the good old 
 days. 
 
 [311]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 "And it 's another warning I '11 give ye. What 
 with the example ye 're setting me, I'm feeling 
 a yearning for the married state mesilf . There 's 
 a purty widdy at Downieville, so I 'm told, who 
 is looking for the right sort of a man. It's 
 a-coorting I '11 go, and maybe it 's a Mrs. 
 Donovan that will greet ye when ye get back 
 to The City of Six." 
 
 They smiled at Mike's joking, but he spoke 
 with prophetic tongue, although its realization 
 did not come for some years. At a world-famous 
 mining camp, when as a millionaire he had at- 
 tained his capitalistic ambition, he met the widow 
 and married her; and in after years, when his 
 name was on all lips as the foremost mining 
 operator in the world, his wife queened it royally 
 abroad. The name of Donovan soared to social 
 heights that amazed and confounded the genial 
 Irishman. 
 
 It was fully settled that Wakefield and his 
 wife and daughter and Ranee would depart with- 
 out delay for San Francisco, where the marriage 
 was to take place on their arrival, and future 
 plans be determined upon. 
 
 Whatever had passed between Wakefield and 
 his wife, it was evident to Ranee that they had 
 
 [312]
 
 DOT S MARRIAGE 
 
 arrived at a mutual understanding and that the 
 agreement included a compact to keep from the 
 daughter any knowledge of her mother's mis- 
 fortunes. She was a high-spirited, conscientious 
 girl, and it was felt that if she knew the true 
 situation she would refuse to come to Ranee with 
 a smirched name, although not responsible for 
 the blot. It would have been a difficult matter 
 to have carried out the programme had the 
 mother rebelled, but Mrs. Wakefield had evi- 
 dently accepted the yoke and gave no sign of an 
 unwillingness to bear it. Dot was at times 
 puzzled over the attitude of her parents toward 
 each other and confided her bewilderment to 
 Ranee. 
 
 "Why, they hardly speak," she said. "Father 
 is as silent as when he was Shakespeare-mad, 
 and she makes no attempt to arouse him. You 
 don't think, dear, that he is losing his reason 
 again, do you?" her eyes filling with tears 
 " It don't seem as if I could bear that again." 
 
 Ranee comforted her to the best of his ability, 
 assuring her that there was no danger of a re- 
 lapse, and that the mood would wear off in time 
 when the recent tragic events were less fresh in 
 their memories. 
 
 [313]
 
 "And mother you know she had planned to 
 go with us on our wedding trip, and now she 
 says that her health will not permit her. How 
 can I leave them both?" 
 
 This latter determination was news to Ranee, 
 who, while pulling a long face, was not at all 
 cast down over it. -.^ 
 
 "Don't let's worry, Dot, she may change her 
 mind," he answered, although fervently hoping 
 that she would not. "Don't I count for some- 
 thing? You will have me, and that may help 
 you bear the separation." 
 
 Dot demurely admitted that it might, and she 
 was too elated and possessed with her happiness 
 to pay much attention to the strained parental 
 relations so long as they were not too obvious. 
 Ranee dropped a warning word to Wakefield 
 which brought about a surface change in his 
 bearing, to the delight of his daughter and the 
 relief of all concerned. 
 
 At San Francisco they were met by Tex and 
 Ruth, who were lingering in that city, enjoying 
 a delightful honeymoon after their own fashion, 
 although Tex confessed to Ranee that there was 
 "a fly in the honey." 
 
 [314]
 
 DOT S MARRIAGE 
 
 "Look at me, pard," he ruefully remarked. 
 "Did you ever expect to see me like this?" 
 
 "Like what?" mirthfully asked Ranee. 
 
 "Like a cross between a faro dealer and a 
 Methodist preacher. I could stand the long- 
 tailed coat and the tight boots, but this collar 
 chokes me. I 'm lacerated under the chin. I 
 can't see where I put my feet; it's like check- 
 reining a tender-mouthed mustang. Say, Ranee, 
 she bought me another pair of kid gloves and a 
 plug hat, and I 'm damned if she did n't persuade 
 me to walk down Montgomery Street with them 
 on," and Tex sighed over his accumulated mis- 
 eries. "I've promised to stand it until after 
 the wedding; but don't put it off, Ranee; I sure 
 can't bear it much longer. Here she comes 
 now ; don't you let on I 've been complaining. I '11 
 jump the corral and take to the plains as soon as 
 the ceremony is over." 
 
 It was a cordial reunion. Ruth was delighted 
 to have her friends with her again, and at once 
 took Dot under her care. There were the gor- 
 geous shops to be visited, a trousseau to be pro- 
 vided, fashions to be discussed; and the little 
 body, herself transformed by her own happiness, 
 
 [315]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 was like a ray of sunshine to the rest of the 
 party. 
 
 In due time Dot and Ranee were wedded, 
 and the new chapter in their lives began. 
 
 During the week their plans crystallized into 
 action. Mrs. Wakefield announced that her 
 health would not permit her to accompany the 
 happy pair on their wedding journey. Ruth, 
 who knew nothing of the inner motives control- 
 ling the decision, but aware that the mother was 
 averse to passing the winter in the mountains, 
 coaxed her to remain with Tex and herself until 
 the quest of the cattle ranch was successfully 
 concluded. Wakefield announced his determina- 
 tion to return to the mine as soon as his daughter 
 and her husband had sailed away, and Tex did 
 not try to delay the breaking up of the party. 
 He had heard of a Spanish grant in one of the 
 near-by coast range valleys that could be bought ; 
 he saw freedom from clothes that needed brush- 
 ing, and hats that compressed his head like a 
 tourniquet, and was wild to escape from his 
 sartorial thraldom. 
 
 There were tears at the parting, but there 
 were smiles through the tears. 
 
 "Dear old Mike, tell him we will all be back 
 
 [316]
 
 DOT S MARRIAGE 
 
 at 'Paradise' in the spring and thank him for 
 those lovely diamonds." 
 
 Mike's commission had been carried out to 
 the surprise and appreciation of Dot. Tex had 
 added a nugget chain ponderous, massive, and 
 characteristic; the groom overwhelmed her with 
 a fiery ruby, a deep-colored flawless gem that 
 flashed and burned in its diamond setting; Ruth 
 and the mother had ransacked the stores for 
 costly fabrics, and the father gave her a bank 
 book that showed a deposit in her name of five 
 thousand dollars, "just pin money," he said, as 
 he drew her to his arms. 
 
 "Be good to Ranee, dear," he counselled her, 
 much to her wonderment why should she be 
 otherwise? As the steamer backed out into the 
 rippling bay, a burden rolled off his mind, and it 
 was with gratitude and thankfulness that at least 
 Dot had escaped the troubles that clouded his own 
 life. Perhaps there was a latent feeling of ten- 
 derness for the one he had chosen in his youth. 
 She had sinned in intention at least, and he in 
 his supposed implacable resentment had judged 
 her harshly. In the future there might be ex- 
 piation and forgiveness. The impulse was strong 
 upon him then as she stood listless, watching 
 
 [317]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the steamer, that bore away her child, pass out 
 of sight around the point, to take his wife in his 
 arms. If the place had been more propitious 
 he might have yielded; but the wharf, crowded 
 with curious on-lookers, restrained him, and his 
 heart hardened again. 
 
 There was a change, however, in their mutual 
 attitude. That evening they came together in 
 arranging for the future. Both Tex and his 
 wife had joined in persuading her to pass the 
 winter with them in their wanderings, and she 
 had in her loneliness turned to Ruth for con- 
 solation. She was drawn to the bustling little 
 woman, whose cheerfulness was a tonic, whose 
 vagaries interested her, and Wakefield gave a 
 ready consent, arranging at his bankers' for her 
 independence financially, and giving thanks to 
 Ruth for her kindly acts. 
 
 "Let it all rest until the spring," were his 
 parting words when the interview was over. 
 "Perhaps we can forget it by that time. If 
 you went back with me to the old camp now 
 you would only brood and pine. Have a good 
 time with Tex and Ruth, and when the children 
 return, well, God only knows." 
 
 If he had noted the hungry look in her 
 
 [318]
 
 DOT S MARRIAGE 
 
 eyes he might not have been so sure that the 
 mountains did not invite her; but he was tena- 
 cious in his resolutions. He had, in his rage, got 
 the notion into his head that justice demanded 
 vengeance on the highwaymen and that it was 
 he who should mete it out, and he could not put 
 the resolve aside. So they parted with a little 
 hope, a little faith, and a spark of the old affec- 
 tion that might in the future kindle into a re- 
 newed blaze. 
 
 [319]
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 WAKEFIELD'S PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 Tj^OR a born plodder who up to middle age 
 had pursued the even tenor of an unevent- 
 ful and humdrum existence, and who did not 
 by heritage or inclination seem likely to step out 
 of the beaten path, Wakefield had betrayed 
 queer tendencies. There was a mental twist, in- 
 herited possibly from a forgotten ancestor, that 
 disturbed the placid currents and created erratic 
 impulses productive of actions out of the ordi- 
 nary. While he was played upon by every wind 
 that blew, an idea or mood would possess him; 
 once it took hold, he held to it stubbornly, and 
 however wild it might be, he never swerved until 
 he had pursued it to the end. No one of his 
 comrades fathomed the depth of the wound in- 
 flicted by his wife's faithlessness, or knew of the 
 silent and seemingly impotent rage that had 
 overwhelmed him the morning that he had found 
 her stricken and forlorn on the bank of the 
 river. He did not realize that it was not his 
 but her wrongs that wrung his heart. It did 
 
 [320]
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 not dawn upon him that it was to avenge her 
 and not himself that he had determined upon the 
 extermination of the highwaymen, nor did it 
 enter his mind that he was undertaking a task 
 where the odds were heavily against him. No, 
 the blood lust was on him; he would match cun- 
 ning with cunning, his life against theirs, justice 
 against guilt, and with no doubt of his success 
 he started on the pursuit, convinced that "thrice 
 is he armed that hath his quarrel just." 
 
 It was with care that he selected his weapons 
 a double-barrel shotgun and a couple of Colt's 
 revolvers and with equal foresight purchased 
 the best saddle horse that money could buy, a 
 powerful, clean-limbed thoroughbred endowed 
 with both speed and stamina. 
 
 Thus equipped, he took boat for Sacramento 
 and thence to Marysville, at which latter city 
 he expected to find a clue that would lead him 
 to Bell's haunts. The sheriff of Yuba County 
 had twice headed posses in pursuit of the robber, 
 for whose head there was a standing reward of 
 five thousand dollars, dead or alive, and been 
 both times unsuccessful. Not discouraged, he 
 was contemplating another and was awaiting 
 certain promised information that he believed 
 
 [321]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 would bring the third attempt to a successful 
 conclusion. Wakefield learned that the band 
 had for a month past been operating in the foot- 
 hills of Nevada and Yuba Counties, and that 
 subsequent to the killing of Phillips they had 
 raided a store at Cherokee and held up the 
 Nevada stage at Bear River Crossing, the latter 
 exploit but a week previous. 
 
 With the exception of Joaquin Murieta, Bell 
 was the most notorious of the highwaymen of 
 the early days. Born in Missouri, he came across 
 the plains in '51 and labored for a brief time 
 in the mines near San Juan, Nevada County; 
 but tiring of hard work, turned to gambling in 
 a small way. He was not much of a success in 
 his new occupation, and finding himself one day 
 without resources he resolved to take to the road. 
 Appropriating the best horse he could find, he 
 started out on his new career. Riding down the 
 Marysville road to the old Zinc House, a noted 
 wayside tavern, he stopped for dinner, putting 
 his horse in the barn. When at the conclusion 
 of the meal he started to leave, the landlady 
 asked him what he was doing with Nelson's 
 animal. Nelson was a well-known sporting man 
 of Marysville, and it was his mount that Bell 
 
 [322]
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 had appropriated. He claimed that he had 
 bought it; but the landlady was sceptical, said 
 that she knew Nelson would not part with the 
 beast, and intimated that he would not be allowed 
 to remove it from the corral until he could prove 
 a better title than his mere word. Fearing im- 
 mediate pursuit and seeing that the woman was 
 backed up by her retainers, he compromised to 
 to the effect that he would let the horse remain 
 in the stable until such time as its ownership 
 should be established to the satisfaction of the 
 lady, he to remove the equipment and procure 
 another mount. 
 
 Bell confronted a dilemma. A saddle, bridle, 
 and blankets are most necessary articles when 
 the steed goes with them, but to this man plod- 
 ding along a dusty road on a hot summer day 
 they were encumbrances. Consigning the sex 
 to perdition for its propensity to meddle, Bell 
 had about decided to cache the trappings until 
 such time as he could annex another piece of 
 horseflesh, when he spied a team trotting down 
 the highway, and irony of fate the driver 
 was the husband of the woman who had com- 
 pelled his horseless tramp. A sharp command 
 to halt, a brief parley, and the driver found him- 
 
 [323]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 self unharnessing under duress the likeliest one 
 of the pair, which proved to be an excellent 
 animal. Without opposition on the part of the 
 victim the horse was quickly saddled. Bell's 
 revolver discouraged discussion; and, relieving 
 the driver of a trifle of two hundred dollars, 
 which it was his hard luck to have in his 
 pocket, Tom rode away after requesting the 
 plucked one to present his compliments to his 
 wife, say to her that a fair exchange was no 
 robbery, and that possibly in the future she 
 might be less inclined to arbitrate property 
 rights. This exploit was Bell's initiative as a 
 knight of the road, and he soon by his daring 
 and audacity became famous, or rather infamous. 
 Crossing over to French Corral, where Bell 
 had mined before taking to the highway, Wake- 
 field lingered around the vicinity for several 
 days, incidentally striking up an acquaintance 
 with Bell's old partner, and by dint of judicious 
 and cautious inquiry he became satisfied that 
 the rendezvous of the gang was somewhere in the 
 vicinity. It had been whispered that when the 
 hue and cry was on, the members of the band, 
 close pressed by their pursuers, had scattered to 
 avoid capture; that Bell's friend had provided a 
 
 [324]
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 temporary hiding-place for his old partner in an 
 abandoned tunnel, where a sack of barley for 
 the horse and a pair of blankets for the man 
 made it a fairly secure retreat until the emer- 
 gency passed. He also learned that several 
 times, after a foray, the gang had been seen 
 crossing the ford of the river to the northern 
 bank, disappearing in the chamizal that covered 
 the mountain-side. Piecing his information to- 
 gether, Wakefield was persuaded that in some 
 one of the steep canyons that cut the flank of 
 the slopes there was a camp to which the robbers 
 retreated. Following out this idea, he left his 
 horse at the little town and started out on a 
 systematic search, beginning at the ford. Fol- 
 lowing the river bank for a mile along the beaten 
 trail used by the miners, he at last found signs 
 of hoof -prints turning off into the chaparral; 
 these he followed around and through dense man- 
 zanita thickets to where they terminated in a 
 secluded granite canyon about half-way up the 
 mountain. There were a couple of acres of bare 
 ground close by, and there horses had been 
 tethered, as was proved by several old stakes 
 driven into the ground and by the beaten-down 
 earth round about. Descending into the canyon, 
 
 [325]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 he discovered unmistakable signs of a camp, the 
 blackened coals and ashes of an old fire, empty 
 cans scattered about, and near a spring which 
 trickled from the rocks, a frying pan and coffee- 
 pot. Wakefield was certain that he had un- 
 earthed their retreat, although from appearances 
 no one had been near the place for some time; 
 but he reasoned that sooner or later they would 
 return, and forming his plans on this belief, he 
 decided to await their coming. Climbing up the 
 steep wall of the canyon and crawling through 
 the interlacing thorn bushes for a distance of a 
 couple of hundred yards, he came up against a 
 huge boulder, from the top of which he could 
 overlook and see into the bed of the gorge and 
 the robbers' camp. This was his vantage point, 
 and here he determined to stay and keep his vigil 
 until they appeared. He had first to provide 
 himself with food and bedding, and concluded 
 to return to San Juan, some five miles away, 
 and lay in his supplies. Instead of retracing 
 his footsteps, with infinite difficulty he forced 
 his way through the tangled underbrush until 
 he reached the top of the ridge and clear ground, 
 marking his exit by stones and broken limbs of 
 the bushes in order to find his way back. 
 
 [326]
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 At San Juan he outfitted as a prospector, 
 buying a burro and loading it with provisions, 
 blankets, and cooking utensils, so common an 
 incident that no suspicion was excited of any 
 ulterior intention. He consumed all the next 
 day in getting the pack back to the selected 
 spot, but with the aid of a hatchet which he had 
 added to the outfit, he cut the way for a passage, 
 unloaded the burro, and turned it loose to provide 
 for itself. Much to his satisfaction, he found 
 that by climbing a near-by pine he could bring 
 the ford and a portion of the river trail in view, 
 a fortunate discovery, as by keeping fairly close 
 watch he was enabled to build a small fire and 
 do his cooking, using for the purpose oak limbs, 
 which gave out little smoke, and the fire could 
 be extinguished quickly if necessary. 
 
 These preliminaries concluded, he settled down 
 quietly to watch and wait until the quarry should 
 fall into his hands. 
 
 It was a long and weary wait, and by a man 
 less obstinate would have been abandoned in its 
 early stages. For two weeks he maintained his 
 outlook, sleeping on the bare ground, cooking 
 his lonely meals; his only companions were the 
 blue jays that at first scolded and squawked 
 
 [327]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 over his intrusion, a prowling coyote who sniffed 
 at his camp fire and stole away with a piece of 
 bacon, a pair of gray squirrels that nested and 
 frolicked in the branches of a close-by pine tree, 
 a timid hare, pursued by a red fox, which almost 
 ran into his arms and stood quivering with fear, 
 frozen into a statue by the sudden encounter. 
 In the canyon below, the piping cock quail called 
 to the covey, and a dove and its mate "coo-cooed" 
 their sad note in the open beyond. The solitary 
 hours passed slowly, and with only his own 
 thoughts for company Wakefield's self-commun- 
 ings were not always to his own satisfaction. 
 Fortune in the way of material things had come 
 to him far beyond his anticipations. He had 
 found the golden fleece, but it seemed as if he 
 had paid a heavy price for it. His strange 
 affliction, the estrangement from his wife, his 
 mental sufferings since his recovery were 
 riches a compensation for these trials ? And then 
 it came to him that perhaps he was not mentally 
 so well balanced after all. Why this thirst for 
 bloody vengeance, this lying in ambush to wreak 
 his hate on a gang of assassins who could be 
 safely left to the law? Their kind always 
 reached the end of the rope ultimately. And 
 
 [328]
 
 PREPARATIONS FOR VENGEANCE 
 
 then, granting that as judge and executioner he 
 succeeded, cui bono? What would he have ac- 
 complished? And in what particular would he 
 be better off? Why not abandon the chase, rid 
 his mind of these follies, join Mike, and settle 
 down to sober work? 
 
 His heart had grown tenderer toward his wife, 
 and he had made many excuses of late for what 
 at first he had looked on as an unpardonable 
 offence, but which had softened until it seemed 
 an error for which she had been already too 
 severely punished. Here was the key to his con- 
 duct. He burned with a desire to exterminate 
 the wretches who had injured his wife, and 
 it was the latent love for her that spurred 
 him on. This accomplished, he felt he could go 
 to her and wipe out the past his coldness, his 
 sternness, the sting of the bitter words he had 
 heaped upon her in the first outburst of his mor- 
 tified self-conceit, and dropping the curtain on 
 the twelve months' interlude of the drama, ring 
 up a new and more satisfactory act. 
 
 [329]
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 iWAKEFIELD EXTERMINATES THE GANG 
 
 VITAKEFIELD did not let these thoughts 
 swerve him from his purpose, and one day 
 he was rewarded by a confirmation of the cor- 
 rectness of his deductions, the persuasion that if 
 he tarried long enough Bell and his followers 
 would seek the rendezvous. Many parties had 
 crossed the ford and had continued on over the 
 divide toward the North Fork, a prospector now 
 and then turned down the river path; but this 
 afternoon from his outlook in the pine tree he 
 noted a cavalcade of horsemen who splashed 
 hastily through the river, took the trail and loped 
 down the bank toward the canyon. Quickly' 
 descending, he crept to the boulder and shortly 
 heard the crackling in the thicket demonstrating 
 that they were making their way through the 
 chaparral. A lapse of a few minutes and the 
 gang emerged into the open space, unsaddled 
 the horses, staked them out by their long reatas, 
 stripped the saddle bags from the saddles, and 
 made for the old camp in the bed of the canyon. 
 
 [330]
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 No doubt entered Wakefield's mind of the iden- 
 tity of the robbers. There were the blonde 
 Bell, the two other white men, and the couple 
 of Greasers so often described by their victims, 
 delivered into his hands, as he believed; but 
 one against five it seemed as if the odds were 
 against him. This did not trouble him, neither 
 did any false notions of fair play. They were 
 vermin and deserved death; that was his mission 
 and he had no scruples in the matter. There 
 was a price on their heads, dead or alive, and the 
 former was the more expedient. 
 
 Creeping cautiously through the chamizal until 
 he reached a foothold on a ledge of rock above 
 them and some forty yards distant, he rose to 
 his feet, levelled his shotgun, and blazed away 
 at the nearest, one of the Mexicans, who fell 
 dead, riddled with buckshot. The startled high- 
 waymen, taken completely unawares and believ- 
 ing that they were ambushed by a posse, fled 
 toward the spot where their horses were tethered. 
 As they climbed the bank the second barrel laid 
 low one of the whites, who fell forward on his 
 face, convulsively grasped at the tufts of grass, 
 relaxed, and rolled back dead into the canyon. 
 Drawing a revolver, he sped a bullet after the re- 
 
 [331]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 treating trio, keeping up a fusillade until they 
 gained the top of the bank and ran with flying feet 
 toward where their animals were staked. One, the 
 remaining Mexican, was winged, fell, rose, fell 
 again, and scrambled on hands and knees to the 
 cover of the thicket, into which he crawled and 
 disappeared from view. 
 
 Before Wakefield could descend from his point 
 of vantage and reach the opposite bank, Bell and 
 his comrade had wrenched the reatas from the 
 stakes, mounted bareback, dashed off down the 
 trail, and were soon safe from immediate pursuit. 
 Thus ended the battle, if it could be so called. 
 It was a surprise and a rout, and Wakefield's 
 vengeance was partially gratified. A brief 
 search, and he found that the Mexican who had 
 been shot through the hip was helpless and in a 
 fair way to bleed to death from the wound. 
 With an indifference to his fate that was almost 
 satanic, Wakefield disarmed the victim, strug- 
 gled with the temptation to blow the fellow's 
 head off, but not being quite equal to this cold- 
 blooded finale, turned back to the camp and 
 gathered together the plunder. From the weight 
 of the saddle bags he was persuaded that they 
 
 [332]
 
 " Drawing a revolver, he sped a bullet after the retreating trio."
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 contained more or less gold ; this proved true, an 
 examination of the contents revealing coin and 
 a large quantity of gold dust. Besides, there 
 were a couple of bottles of whiskey, bread, cooked 
 meat, ammunition, and other articles. It was 
 evident that the robbers intended to camp in the 
 canyon over night and then depart, and this 
 was confirmed by the Mexican, who afterwards 
 confessed that they had ended their fall cam- 
 paign, had proceeded to the spot to divide the 
 spoils, when they were to separate, make their 
 way to the valley, and meet at Sacramento a 
 week or two later; that is, all except Bell, who 
 had a place of retreat unknown to his compan- 
 ions, where he proposed to tarry until inclination 
 prompted him to renew his depredations. 
 
 Now came the question as to further action. 
 Obviously, it was his duty to inform the author- 
 ities and deliver to them the spoils. His action 
 needed no justification; on the contrary, he would 
 receive the plaudits of the community for his 
 daring exploit in ridding them of the scoundrels 
 who had terrorized the foothills; yet he was not 
 satisfied with the outcome. The chief offender 
 had for the time escaped; and this left his self- 
 
 [333]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 imposed task unfinished and more difficult to 
 accomplish, as the fellow would undoubtedly 
 take alarm and flee the country. 
 
 However, there was no help for it, and he 
 made preparations to leave. He threw the sad- 
 dle blankets over the corpses, and propped the 
 wounded Greaser against a tree, promising to 
 send relief from the nearest camp, at the same 
 time stanching the wound in a rude way. The 
 man begged piteously not to be left alone, or at 
 least defenceless, and Wakefield was persuaded 
 to give him one of the revolvers, keeping a sharp 
 watch to see that he took no treacherous ad- 
 vantage of the concession. Before doing this he 
 had packed the saddle bags on one of the horses 
 and saddled another for his own use, driving the 
 third before him down to the river. He had 
 decided to ride to Marysville the county-seat 
 and some twenty miles distant, find the sheriff, 
 tell his story, and deliver to the official the plun- 
 der. It was twilight by the time he had regained 
 the river trail, dark before he had got well started 
 on his journey; his progress was slow over the 
 rough country until the plains were reached, 
 and it was daylight before he arrived at his 
 destination. 
 
 [334]
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 Rousing the sheriff from his early morning 
 sleep, he told his tale, to which that official 
 listened in open-mouthed wonder and an in- 
 credulity that was only dispelled by the evidence 
 of the bulging saddle bags. 
 
 "So you were after the gang when you were 
 pumping me here a while ago?" he inquired, 
 which fact Wakefield acknowledged. 
 
 "Why were you so eager to run them down?" 
 he continued. "Of course, there is the reward, 
 five thousand for Bell and two thousand apiece 
 for the others; but, man, there is that much in 
 the saddle bags, and no one would have been the 
 wiser if you had not turned it over to me. Now," 
 he regretfully added, "it will have to be deposited 
 with the courts and the public administrator, 
 and I reckon there won't be much left after it 
 is administered upon. You are a good one, to 
 tackle that crowd alone! I'm no coward, but 
 I don't believe I would have undertaken the 
 job. You must have had some pretty strong 
 motive. What was it?" 
 
 Wakefield flushed at the question, hesitated, 
 but recognized in the bluff official a man in whom 
 he could confide. Asking that as little notoriety 
 be given as possible, he took the sheriff into his 
 
 [335]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 confidence and briefly told him the facts of the 
 killing of the gambler and the indignity inflicted 
 on his wife, at the same time renouncing any 
 interest in the blood money, or a share in the 
 recaptured plunder. 
 
 The listener at once comprehended the motives 
 that had urged him on in his unrelenting hunt. 
 
 "By God, you're a man after my own heart," 
 he exclaimed, "and I'm proud to know you. 
 There is nobody need know the inside of this 
 but you and me. I '11 send up a deputy to look 
 after the wounded Greaser and fetch him here 
 if he's alive. We will let the other carrion rot, 
 after we have identified them. We may as well 
 gather in the reward ; if you don't want it, I 'm 
 not so squeamish as you are, and it will help get 
 back some of the money that I have spent 
 trying to run them down. But say, you're 
 a white man, if I ever met one, and you have 
 acted so square, I don't mind letting you into 
 a secret. I would have had Bell in a few days 
 anyhow. Y,ou say he rode off bareback. I think 
 I can put my hands on him now; I know the 
 hole he has run to for safety, and it 's not many 
 miles from here. I'll bet I get word in the 
 next twenty-four hours." 
 
 [336]
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 It was Wakefield's turn to be astonished, and 
 he asked for an explanation. 
 
 "Let's go over to the Magnolia and get a 
 cocktail, I haven't had a morning bracer, 
 then we will have breakfast, go back to the office, 
 finish the business of turning over the money, 
 and then you had better take a rest. Your 
 nerves ought to be a little jarred after all this. 
 I think by the time you have slept a few hours 
 I may have some more news. I don't suppose 
 you will mind to be in at the finish, and that 
 means capturing Bell or killing him; I 'm betting 
 that he will die with his boots on." 
 
 Wakefield consented to take the needed rest, 
 only exactly a promise that he should be a party 
 to the final rounding up. He then followed 
 the programme outlined by the sheriff, including 
 the cocktail and the breakfast, and retired to the 
 hotel and a room. A sound and peaceful sleep 
 restored his nerves and drove away the fatigue 
 incidental to his strenuous achievement. 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when he awoke 
 and descended to the office, where he was at once 
 the centre of a group of curious admirers who 
 were anxious to meet the hero who, single-handed, 
 had "busted" Tom Bell's gang. The notoriety 
 
 [337]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 was distasteful, and he was glad when the sheriff 
 came and invited him over to his office. When 
 they had reached it and barred the door against 
 intruders, that official exclaimed, 
 
 "It's turned out as I expected. We've got 
 him holed, and unless there is a slip-up I '11 have 
 him in jail by noon to-morrow. I promised to 
 tell you how it came about, and here goes. Of 
 course, there's a woman in it, there always is, 
 for good or bad. This one is the landlady of the 
 Ohio House and ranch down on the Feather 
 River. Bell got stuck on her a couple of years 
 ago, and she has harbored him ever since. He has 
 given her the results of all his robberies, sent 
 her two daughters to a seminary in San Fran- 
 cisco, provided for their education, and planned 
 when he had got enough coin gathered in to make 
 them independent, to leave the country with the 
 family, go back to Missouri, and lead a respect- 
 able life. Nice programme, ain't it? But he 
 won't go back. She has got the money, all right ; 
 the fool thinks she is as badly gone on him as 
 he on her, and she 's tired of him. So a month 
 ago she gave me the tip, bargained for the re- 
 ward lovely sort of a woman, ain't she? and 
 agreed to deliver him up on his next visit. She 
 
 [338]
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 has hidden him many times and nobody suspected 
 her. That accounts for our losing the trail so 
 mysteriously when we thought we were close 
 upon him ; but you bet he is pretty near the end 
 of his rope. As I thought, after you jumped 
 him in the canyon and he got away, he made a 
 straight break for the Ohio House and reached 
 there last night. She sent in a messenger with 
 the agreed word, and I will take a couple of 
 deputies and go after him in the morning. I 
 thought you might like to go along just to see 
 the fun. You needn't take a hand unless you 
 want to." 
 
 But Wakefield did want to. He had suffered 
 no remorse for his recent action and was eager 
 to carry his revenge to the bitter end; indeed, 
 he chafed at the delay involved in the proposed 
 wait until the next morning. But the sheriff 
 was cool-headed and insisted that there was no 
 risk in postponing the raid. 
 
 At the appointed time the sheriff, with Wake- 
 field and three deputies, started for the place. 
 It was agreed on the road that he and two of 
 his men should enter by the front door, ascertain 
 Bell's whereabouts, go to his room and demand 
 his surrender, while Wakefield and the other 
 
 [339]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 man would guard the rear of the house and cut 
 off escape in that direction. This plan was ad- 
 hered to; the woman pointed out the location, 
 and the sheriff pounded on the door and de- 
 manded admission. No doubt Bell realized the 
 trap that had been set for him ; instead of opening 
 the door he threw up the window and, a revolver 
 in each hand, sprang out on the roof of the porch. 
 Wakefield, who was posted underneath, recog- 
 nized him as the man who had escaped him in the 
 canyon, raised his pistol and fired simultaneously 
 with Bell. Wakefield felt the breath knocked 
 out of him and realized that he had been shot, 
 but he recovered in time to see the robber, sway- 
 ing and staggering, pitch forward and tumble 
 off the roof to the ground. The ball from Wake- 
 field's revolver had pierced his heart, and his 
 career was ended. By a miracle Wakefield had 
 escaped serious injury. The bullet had sped 
 accurately, but striking the steel buckle of his 
 belt, had been deflected, and piercing his skin, had 
 inflicted a mere surface wound, a scratch that was 
 of no consequence. The details of the pursuit 
 and extermination of the gang was a nine days' 
 wonder and then forgotten. Bell's paramour, 
 execrated and despised by everybody cognizant 
 
 [340]
 
 EXTERMINATING THE GANG 
 
 of her treachery, sold out the inn, collected her 
 reward, and disappeared from the country. The 
 Greaser who had been left in the canyon was 
 brought to Marysville and recovered from his 
 hurts, was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to 
 a long term in State prison, which he did not 
 serve out, being killed by one of the guards while 
 participating in a convict break for liberty. 
 
 With Bell's death Wakefield's interest in the 
 matter ended. He resolutely refused to accept 
 a cent of the reward, or claim any portion of the 
 money found in the saddle bags, conveying to the 
 sheriff title to any interest he might have .with 
 one exception: the horse he had ridden from the 
 canyon, a magnificent thoroughbred that had 
 been in Bell's possession, probably stolen, but 
 whose owner never turned up to claim it. This 
 animal Wakefield proposed to present to his 
 friend Mike. 
 
 [341]
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 REUNION OF MR. AND MRS. WAKEFIELD 
 
 T EAVING Marysville when everything was 
 settled, there being no judicial notice taken 
 of, or judicial inquiry made into, the killing of 
 the robbers, Wakefield reclaimed his own horse 
 that he had left at San Juan previous to his 
 undertaking and turned his face toward The City 
 of Six. He arrived after the New Year and 
 was most heartily welcomed by his partner. The 
 season had been an extraordinarily open one; 
 there had been but a light fall of snow, and 
 communication with the neighboring camps had 
 not been cut off. He found Mike busy and fairly 
 cheerful although a trifle lonesome. The good- 
 hearted Irishman missed Ranee and his cheery 
 ways. 
 
 "We cud well afford to maintain one gintle- 
 man like him, and a gintleman he was from the 
 crown of his head to the soles of his feet." 
 
 As for Tex, he mourned him as David mourned 
 Jonathan. 
 
 "There was no foolishness about Tex; as 
 
 [342]
 
 A REUNION 
 
 steady as a rock and as reliable. I cud go to bed 
 and slape aisy whin he was in charge, and that 's 
 more than I Ve done since. I had a letter from 
 him, or rather from Mrs. Ruth, which by the way 
 will interest ye. They are down in the San 
 Ramon Valley, where they are bargaining for 
 a small farm of some six thousand acres part 
 of a Spanish grant, he says. They are stopping 
 at Don Pedraza's casa; he 's the owner. If they 
 make the bargain, it's sixty thousand dollars 
 they will pay for it with the cattle thrown in. 
 It 's miles and miles more the Don has, and he 's 
 disposing of this small piece for to have a trifle 
 of spinding money. Your wife is wid them, but 
 mighty anxious about yersilf; it's news she is 
 wanting of ye, which I expect she has by this 
 time, for the papers are full of yer exploits." 
 
 Wakefield winced a little at this ; truth to tell, 
 he was as anxious to hear from her as she from 
 him. He had had plenty of time for a searching 
 analysis of his feelings and found that he could 
 pity and pardon. His heart yearned for his mate 
 and he was willing to pave the way for a reunion, 
 which he did that very night by the despatch of 
 a long letter, in which he touched lightly on his 
 recent adventures, indulged in no upbraiding, 
 
 [343]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 and dwelt particularly on the daughter and her 
 future: nothing must be allowed to cloud her 
 happiness, not even a suspicion of an estrange- 
 ment between the parents. With this peace 
 offering made he relieved his mind of the sense 
 of an injustice and opened the door for a better 
 understanding. 
 
 Mike was not to be denied a full relation of 
 his partner's adventures, which Wakefield rather 
 modestly imparted, smiling at Mike's comment. 
 
 "It's not brave at all, it's just foolhardy ye 
 were, and there was no call for it hunting down 
 thaves and robbers when it is better ye would be 
 giving a helping hand to yer pard! Av coorse, 
 barring the horse, which is a foine baste and a 
 valuable one, seeing it cost four min's lives for to 
 procure it, I see no merit in what ye 've done, 
 depriving the sheriff of all the glory and giving 
 him all the money. It 's a gardeen ye want, and 
 I 'm thinking I '11 appoint mesilf to the place." 
 
 Wakefield took Mike's chaffing without of- 
 fence and confessed that he was tired of adven- 
 tures and quite willing to substitute himself in 
 the place of Tex and make up for his defection. 
 
 " Now it 's a streak of sinse ye have. The ould 
 mine ain't a-going to last always, and it's the 
 
 [344]
 
 A REUNION 
 
 dollars you will be wanting for the grandchildren. 
 Besides, there is Ranee a-travelling, which is ex- 
 pinsive, and he'll be nading some of the divi- 
 dends, to say nothing of Tex, who when he gets 
 his ranch will be buying blooded bulls and cows 
 to improve his stock. As for mesilf , it 's a miner 
 I am and it 's a miner I will be to the end of it, 
 but I '11 not go broke unless the bottom drops out 
 of the worrld. I have me nest egg put away 
 where it won't rust." 
 
 Mike fell into a reflective mood and held his 
 peace for a time, while Wakefield gazed at the 
 bright fire that sparkled in the fireplace, watched 
 the flames leap up the chimney, and fell musing 
 over all that had happened since they had climbed 
 the trail and found their fortune in the old chan- 
 nel. Their few thousands had increased until 
 they were comparatively rich men, and yet he 
 felt that he had paid a heavy toll for it. At 
 least, the strenuous part of it was over. Thence- 
 forth he would plod along as of old and trust 
 to Providence to set things right. As he looked 
 out into the dusk after bidding his trusty partner 
 good-night and saw the moon at its full rising 
 over the eastern ridge, memory cast back to an 
 evening when, standing at the door, he had seen 
 
 [345]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 the crescent hanging in the west, and there had 
 come to him the sense of the mystery of things, 
 of something above and beyond his comprehen- 
 sion, a feeling that had stirred him to the depths 
 and started him on the road to an unbalanced 
 mind. Now it was not "Dido standing on the 
 wild sea banks," or "Troilus sighing his heart to 
 Cressid"; no, his thoughts went to a peaceful 
 valley where, perhaps, a lonely woman "waft her 
 love to come again to Carthage." 
 
 Through the winter, which was a mild one, the 
 mine continued its uninterrupted yield, although 
 both Mike and Wakefield knew that a few 
 months more would see the end of it unless, which 
 was unlikely, the channel turned on its course 
 and ran into the mountain. Still, they had no 
 reason to complain. From the beginning of 
 operations in the Winter of '52 to the opening of 
 Spring in '54, after paying all expenses each 
 partner had over seventy thousand dollars to his 
 credit, and with six months more before it was 
 worked out there would be a further dividend of 
 fifteen thousand dollars each. This sum judi- 
 ciously invested would be enough to keep the wolf 
 from the door. Then there was the chance of 
 striking gold in the mine over at Hepsidam, the 
 
 [346]
 
 A REUNION 
 
 property the partners had jointly bought from 
 Phillips and on which they were vigorously driv- 
 ing the bedrock tunnel toward the supposed 
 channel. 
 
 The responsibilities that Wakefield shared with 
 Mike in the joint management acted as a sedative 
 to his nerves, and the mountains as a tonic to his 
 overwrought brain. He was no longer moody, 
 erratic, or despondent, and it was not long before 
 he began to plan for the future. And his plans 
 were not selfish; they embraced the welfare of 
 another as well. Wakefield's thoughts went back 
 to his younger days, when he toiled on the farm, 
 or worked in the village, and when his ambitions 
 did not extend beyond the county horizon. He 
 had won the belle of the town, had settled down 
 to the narrow existence his environment made a 
 necessity, and, as he looked back, had found con- 
 tentment and a fair measure of happiness. She 
 had been in all ways his helpmeet, and discord 
 had not dwelt under their roof. It was only when 
 he had gone out into the big world that calamity 
 followed prosperity. Now he was lonely and 
 longed for his old home life. Perhaps the long- 
 ing was due to his now regular correspondence 
 with his wife and the fact that both had fallen 
 
 [347]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 into the habit of exchanging news and confi- 
 dences, and it seemed as if each was seeking 
 reconciliation and a reestablishment of the old 
 relations. 
 
 Letters from Dot were frequent and brimful 
 of the joy of life. A severe critic might have 
 objected to the fact that the greater portion of 
 them was given over to eulogies of Ranee, who 
 from her point of view was a special creation, 
 a man in whom she could discover no faults, and 
 who, it seemed from her words, had no other mis- 
 sion than to make her happy. 
 
 "Niver mind her, she'll wake up from the 
 drame one of these days," commented Mike after 
 listening to several extracts exalting her husband, 
 "and find him a man just like the rist of us. 
 He's a lazy devil." Here Mike abandoned his 
 cynical attitude. " Why should n't he be ? "He 's 
 a capitalist the same as the rist of us, and he 
 was n't born for worrk. I could n't like him better 
 if he was me own. I wish he was back, for I long 
 for a sight of him and his purty wife." 
 
 That event was not very far off. They had 
 spent the winter at the old Mississippi home, were 
 going to visit Washington and New York, return 
 
 [348]
 
 A REUNION 
 
 to California, and in a month they would arrive 
 at San Francisco. 
 
 Tex had been heard from by proxy. Ruth 
 had written frequently, one particular epistle to 
 Wakefield upbraiding him for his quixotic ex- 
 ploits in thief-catching, and another of advice and 
 entreaty to visit them in their new home, of which 
 his wife was a part. Tex had carried out his 
 plans and bought his cattle ranch a princi- 
 pality according to her description, and was 
 devoting himself to rounding up the stock, riding 
 fiery mustangs over the country from morning 
 till night, accompanied by a lot of "shiftless" 
 Mexicans, who had transferred their allegiance 
 and services to the new proprietor. She was sure 
 he would be brought home some day with a 
 broken neck or be trampled to death by the wild 
 cattle that roamed over their possessions. As for 
 herself, she was mistress of a household thai 
 nearly drove her to distraction lazy, incompe- 
 tent, trifling hussies, who rebelled at the Sefiora 
 interesting herself in household cares and ex- 
 pected her to live a life of dignified ease and 
 luxury. She confessed, this was not altogether 
 distasteful; on the contrary, she found herself 
 
 [349]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 yielding to the atmosphere of idleness and falling 
 into the pleasant ways of Spanish habits and 
 customs. Mrs. Wakefield was a permar -it 
 guest, and they had struck up a close friend ' n p. 
 The visitor was restored to perfect bodily health, 
 but was at times somewhat depressed in spirits. 
 However, the frequent letters from her husband 
 were having an excellent effect. 
 
 Dot had written that she and Ranee would re- 
 turn early in June, and Ruth proposed that the 
 event should be celebrated by a reunion at the 
 ranch of all the partners. They could do no less 
 than greet the wanderers by their presence. Of 
 course, Wakefield could not refuse, and this was 
 especially meant for the benefit of Mr. Donovan, 
 who, Ruth said, had not had a holiday since the 
 mine was discovered. 
 
 "I'm persuaded to go," intimated Mike, when 
 the invitation was received. "It's full of curi- 
 osity I am to see Tex wid the matrimonial yoke 
 on his shoulders. In me opinion, 'twas a lucky 
 day for him whin the widdy made up her mind 
 that 'twas her duty to look after him. She is 
 a woman of sinse and judgment, to say nothing 
 of her capabilities as a cook. I can't consave of 
 her lading an idle life, for she looked on it as a 
 deadly sin. Maybe marriage has given her abso- 
 
 [350]
 
 A REUNION 
 
 lution. I '11 see the truth of it wid me own eyes. 
 We'll take the risk of the foreman running 
 things for a couple of weeks, if you're agreed, 
 av make the trip." 
 
 Wakefield was agreed and more than pleased 
 that Mike would accompany him. The return 
 of Ranee and Dot, both dear to him, would be 
 a propitious time for a meeting with his wife, and 
 softened by absence and chastened by his experi- 
 ences, he was prepared to ask forgiveness, where 
 in his wrath and resentment he had believed he 
 could not extend it. So he was glad when the 
 letter came announcing that the absent ones 
 would sail from New York on a certain day and 
 that the steamer would be due in another week. 
 
 The affairs at the mine were confided to the 
 foreman, a competent and trustworthy miner, 
 who had been with them almost from the begin- 
 ning, and the two started for the coast. They 
 were well mounted, Mike riding the Tom Bell 
 horse which his partner had given him, and in 
 four days they covered the distance, some one 
 hundred and sixty miles, and rode up to the 
 hacienda. 
 
 What a welcome they received! Mike was 
 overwhelmed with the sincerity and heartiness of 
 the greetings; and when Ruth, who had picked 
 
 [351]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 up a smattering of Spanish, said, fe Esta casa es 
 de V." and Tex explained that it meant that the 
 house was his, he felt that it was more than the 
 stereotyped phrase of the hospitable Spaniard 
 from whom it was borrowed ; it was genuine, and 
 the place was at his disposal. Wakefield wrung 
 the big hand of Tex in a fraternal clasp, beamed 
 upon Mrs. Ruth, and turned expectantly toward 
 another, the magnet which had drawn him away 
 from the mountains. She stood waiting for that 
 look, which dwelt fondly and anxiously on her, 
 and in it read the verdict that she had awaited. 
 In another moment she was in his arms, and in 
 the strong embrace she knew that the old affec- 
 tion and love were once more hers. It was recon- 
 ciliation, forgiveness, and a bracing up of the 
 bonds that had been loosened for a time. And 
 then they withdrew to the house, where they could 
 be alone with their restored happiness to reap- 
 pear some time later, sedate perhaps, but beam- 
 ing with joy and gladness. 
 
 Tex, among his old friends, was as happy as 
 a schoolboy, and Ruth fluttered from one to an- 
 other, with an occasional dash to the interior to 
 superintend the bountiful feast she had had pre- 
 pared for her guests. 
 
 [352]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 bustle and excitement of the arrival be- 
 ing over, and the dust of the long ride being 
 removed, they flung themselves into the big 
 chairs, which invited relaxation, and grouped on 
 the veranda of the mansion. Confronting them 
 was a panorama of pastoral beauty. Enclosed 
 between hills of a moderate altitude, the valley 
 stretched away to the north, gradually widening 
 out to a breadth of a mile or more and then as 
 gradually narrowing to the outlet through the 
 range. The rolling slopes, yellow in the June 
 sun, were covered with a heavy growth of wild 
 oats indigenous to the country. The hills and 
 the valley were dotted with white and live oaks 
 whose dark green foliage contrasted with the 
 russet tints of the grasses. Through the centre 
 a creek meandered, its course marked by syca- 
 more, alder, and cottonwood trees which over- 
 shadowed still pools and rippling shallows and 
 invited a retreat from the ardent sun. Under 
 the oaks and along the stream a thousand cattle 
 
 [353]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 gathered, formidable long-horned beasts, fat and 
 sleek in the midst of never-failing feed, and over 
 it all hung a soft haze, the tangible sign of the 
 heated air hot but not oppressive, that climatic 
 condition that is the charm of the coast valleys 
 of California. 
 
 "What do you think of it?" asked Tex, look- 
 ing out over the prospect with a self -satisfied air. 
 "The old Don called it 'Rancho de la Paz,' which 
 means ' Peaceful Ranch, ' and Ruth and I agreed 
 that it could not be better named. There are 
 about twenty thousand acres in the valley alto- 
 gether, and I have bought nearly a third; by 
 rights I ought to own it all, but that 's beyond 
 my means at present. We will take a ride over 
 it to-morrow when you are rested." 
 
 "To-morrow, is it?" retorted Mike. "Do you 
 take me for leather? Sore and stiff I am wid 
 me trip from The City of Six ; four days in the 
 saddle, and me not used to it. If you plaze, we 
 will take no ride to-morrow, or the day after. 
 I'll walk it wid ye, but ride I'll not unless ye 
 substitute a pillow for a saddle." 
 
 "You'll think better of it in the morning," 
 laughed Tex; "walking is unknown in this 
 
 [354]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 country ; even the cattle would resent it, and you 
 would not be safe except you were mounted." 
 
 Mike's grumbling was stopped by the appear- 
 ance of a black-haired, olive-colored muchacha 
 who invited them to "Famos a comer" and the 
 party adjourned to the dining-room, where a 
 bountiful spread was waiting. Ruth's attempted 
 apologies for certain deficiencies were scoffed at. 
 There was that quaint flavor and strangeness to 
 the dishes that appealed to their palates, and the 
 newcomers agreed that it was a grateful 
 change from the stereotyped boarding-house fare 
 as furnished by the accomplished Tong. The 
 crisp tortillas; the savory jerked beef estofado 
 spiced with pimientos; the enchiladas, wrapped 
 in corn husks; the mixture of frijoles and rice; 
 the dulces and the native wine and fragrant coffee 
 were a revelation to the guests, although Ruth 
 sniffed and declared that her handmaids were 
 heathen whom she hoped to train to better 
 methods. 
 
 "To think of it," she exclaimed, "with hun- 
 dreds of cows roaming about, not a pint of milk 
 or a pound of butter on the place, not even a 
 kitchen garden or a vegetable. They fry every- 
 
 [355]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 thing in oil and never heard of a pie ; and if you 
 want fresh meat they just lasso a steer and kill 
 it; not that there is any waste in that, for there 
 is a lazy tribe infesting the ranch that would 
 breed a famine, and they don't do enough work 
 to pay for their keep." 
 
 At this Tex chuckled. 
 
 "Tell them about your maids," he said; and 
 the little woman laughed as she named Celestina, 
 Panchita, Juanita, and Anita. "Would you be- 
 lieve it," she said, "they think that for the Senora, 
 as they call me, to lift her finger to help herself 
 is degrading? No lady can comb her hair, put 
 on her shoes, make up her own bed, or do any- 
 thing else but sit around in a rocking-chair and 
 see things go by sixes and sevens ; and Tex says 
 I must not fly in the face of the customs of the 
 country, or they will suspect that we are genie 
 ordinaria" 
 
 "Yes, and that ain't the worst of it; she is 
 getting so she likes it," retorted Tex. "This is 
 a great place for siestas, which means that you 
 just loaf around all day, except in the cool of 
 the mornings and evenings." 
 
 Here Tex shoved back his chair from the table, 
 pulled a little square of brown paper and some 
 
 [356]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 tobacco from his pocket and proceeded to roll 
 a cigarette, which, when done, he politely offered 
 to Mike. 
 
 "And what will I do wid it?" asked Mike. 
 "Smoke it, ye say? On me word, I'd get more 
 satisfaction from a straw. Wid the ladies' per- 
 mission, 1 11 have an honest whiff from the ould 
 pipe. Them things are but an aggravation." 
 
 Tex, a little abashed, apologized and explained 
 that it was another custom to smoke the despised 
 article between courses and then adjourn to the 
 veranda for a satisfying cigar, which Mrs. Ruth 
 thought was more aristocratic than the pipe, and 
 so he had discarded it. Sending the boy for a 
 box of perfectos, they returned once more to the 
 broad piazza, where the evening was given up to 
 the news from The City of Six, Tex's invest- 
 ments, and a hinting of some tentative plans that 
 he had to submit to his partners. 
 
 The steamer was due in a couple of days, and 
 it was agreed that Wakefield, Mike, and Tex 
 should proceed to the city to meet Ranee and 
 Dot and bring them at once to the rancho. An 
 ancient calesa was resurrected, much to Mike's 
 gratification, who did not feel equal to another 
 day on horseback ; a pair of half -broken mustangs 
 
 [357]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 were hitched to it, and with Tex on horseback 
 the party made their way to Oakland, where the 
 outfit was left before crossing the Bay. 
 
 The steamer arrived at the appointed time, and 
 the expected ones were aboard. Ranee and Dot 
 met a warm and loving welcome. Ranee was de- 
 lighted to be once more with his old friends, and 
 when he had taken Mike aside and learned that 
 Wakefield was in possession of his normal facul- 
 ties and that all was well with the rest of them, 
 he declared that his cup of happiness was over- 
 flowing. 
 
 ''And Mrs. Poole," interposed Mike, "may I 
 inquire as to her hilth? I 'd do it personally, 
 but nobody has a chance wid her father monopo- 
 lizing her. She do be looking foine. The divil 
 you say!" he ejaculated. "It 's rist and quiet she 
 wants, does she? Well, plenty of it she'll have 
 at the Rancho de la Paz." This in reply to a 
 whispered communication from the proud hus- 
 band. "That is the name of Tex's new farm, 
 and so far as I can see there is nothing else than 
 rist and quiet there. You may not belave it, but 
 Mrs. Ruth hersilf is doing a bit of that same, 
 and there will be a pair of thim. Bless me soul, 
 I must be getting married mesilf ; it 's contagious 
 
 [358]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 it's getting, although " (here Dot clasped his 
 hand) . " Sure I look on ye both as me children, 
 and it 's glad we are to have ye back wid us once 
 more." There were a thousand questions to ask 
 and to be answered; and, as Mike softly whis- 
 pered, "Thank the good God, there are none of 
 them that we cannot give a straight answer to." 
 
 The next day they started for the ranch, where 
 there was another joyful reunion. It needed 
 only this meeting of mother and daughter and 
 the perfect understanding that renewed their 
 mutual affection to bring to each one of the party 
 complete contentment. There were phases of 
 the tragical incidents known only to Ranee and 
 Wakefield, and the former soon learned that 
 Wakefield had taken his wife to his bosom once 
 more. This denouement made the situation an 
 easy one to meet, as no explanations were de- 
 manded or necessary. 
 
 It was a happy group that gathered on the 
 veranda that evening. Ranee was called upon 
 to tell of their travels, and Dot described Ranee's 
 visit to his boyhood home and her days on the old 
 plantation, where she was made much of, not- 
 withstanding that she was from the North; of 
 the entreaties to stay, and of her own and her 
 
 [359]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 husband's desire to return to the "enchanted 
 land," as they termed the foothills. Tex told of 
 his bargaining for the hacienda and Ruth's sur- 
 render to the effeminate customs ; and then Mike, 
 after vainly entreating Wakefield to tell the story, 
 related that hero's exploits in pursuit of the high- 
 waymen, every incident of which he had gradually 
 and persistently wormed out of Wakefield. For 
 the first time the wife listened to the details of 
 his vengeance, understood that he meant it as the 
 vindication of his honor and hers, and shuddering 
 at the danger, yet rejoicing over her knight 
 errant, her hand stole into his, and with the fond 
 pressure, it seemed to her as if peace and love 
 were hers. 
 
 Ranee listened open-eyed to Mike's graphic 
 relation. To him it was chivalrous retribution; 
 it was more, it was the curtain falling on the past 
 and the beginning of a new life for the sorely 
 afflicted man. 
 
 The ensuing fortnight were halcyon days for 
 them all. It had dawned upon Ruth that there 
 was such a thing as misdirected energy in 
 the world, and she had become infected with the 
 atmosphere of idleness that was a heritage of the 
 
 [3<SO]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 valley. There was a good reason why she should 
 relax her rigid ideas as to the imperative necessity 
 of constant expenditure of vital force, a reason 
 that impelled Tex to exercise his marital author- 
 ity and insist upon a complete abnegation of 
 household cares; and Ruth, who had passed her 
 life waiting on and caring for others, found it 
 pleasant to give herself up to the care and atten- 
 tion of the Mexican handmaids, although she 
 was conscience-smitten at times over her own 
 shiftlessness. Both the mother and Dot were 
 soon under the same influence ; and the trio, who 
 had so much in common, passed many idle hours 
 on the broad piazza, while their husbands roamed 
 the valley or visited the neighboring ranges. 
 
 As for the partners, they loafed over the 
 country, enjoying a pasear among the cattle, a 
 ride to Don Pedraza's adjoining broad acres 
 (Mike had become hardened to the saddle), and 
 a midday siesta under a branching tree by the side 
 of a deep pool, where a substantial luncheon, de- 
 spatched by the provident mistress in care of a 
 swarthy paisano, had full justice done it. Then 
 they grew meditative and reminiscent, traversing 
 their trials and experiences and under the in- 
 
 [361]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 fluence of the after-luncheon pipe or cigar, con- 
 cluded that, after all, luck had been with them 
 and they had much to be thankful for. 
 
 It was at one of these noon-day halts that Mike, 
 who had been doing some deep thinking on the 
 subject, turned to Tex and said, 
 
 " It 's a pity ye only have a paltry six thousand 
 acres of this valley. Look at it, it was niver 
 meant to be divided up, and I wonder at the old 
 Don letting go any part of it. Why didn't ye 
 buy it all while ye were about it?" 
 
 "A very good reason," answered Tex; "I did 
 not have enough money." 
 
 "Would he have sold it all to ye if ye had?" 
 inquired Mike. 
 
 "I think he would," said Tex; "he has another 
 four times as big over in the Santa Clara Valley, 
 besides three square leagues on the San Joaquin." 
 
 "And who lived in that lower house bey ant, 
 before he sold his own castle to you?" continued 
 Mike. 
 
 "His mayor Aomo, who looked after all of the 
 land in this valley," replied Tex. 
 
 "Byes, listen to me," exclaimed Mike. " I 'm 
 not saying that this country is equal to the 
 mountains even ould Ireland can't bate thim, 
 
 [362]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 although I'm a traitor for hinting it; but if 
 the time comes whin there is no more goold there, 
 this would be an illigant retrate, a place to take 
 life aisy if we were so minded. Let's buy out 
 the ould Don. Tex ought to have all the land 
 that 's nixt to him without limitations." 
 
 Now both Wakefield and Ranee had pondered 
 on just such an acquisition. Tex had convinced 
 them that he had made an excellent investment, 
 and if they could among them monopolize the 
 valley and hill ranges, it would be without much 
 doubt a remunerative purchase. Then there were 
 sentimental reasons. It continued the association 
 and knit their future fortunes in a common web. 
 The life appealed to Ranee, a country gentle- 
 man, lording it over his own broad domain with 
 the busy world in near proximity. With Wake- 
 field it was returning to the soil and a rest for 
 himself and wife, with his loved ones close by; 
 and Tex, of course, was delighted with the 
 prospect. 
 
 The next day a business interview was held 
 with Don Pedraza, whom they found willing to 
 part with the grant, at his price. There were 
 about sixteen thousand acres besides Tex's ranch, 
 and four thousand head of cattle and a band of 
 
 [363]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 mustangs, a herd of a couple of hundred head. 
 The Don was not a hard bargainer, cash appealed 
 to him, and the price, one hundred and twenty 
 thousand dollars, was fixed and accepted. A trip 
 to San Francisco, a couple of days later, an 
 interview with the lawyers, and the Rancho de la 
 Paz passed into the possession of the quartette. 
 It was agreed that Tex should assume the man- 
 agement with Ranee as aid, and that Wakefield 
 should divide his time between The City of Six 
 and the valley. 
 
 The wives up to this time had had no inkling 
 of what was going on, and it was a great surprise 
 when, the night before Mike's return journey to 
 his beloved foothills, the news was imparted to 
 them. Needless to say that, after a little protest 
 from Ruth at not being taken into confidence, 
 they were more than content with the community 
 interests in view. It was a principality in itself, 
 and nature had so contrived it that it was prac- 
 tically isolated from the rest of the world and 
 safe from intrusion. 
 
 In the new role of landed proprietors, the 
 group on the veranda that night felt their added 
 importance as citizens of the new commonwealth, 
 and, in becoming attached to the soil, understood 
 
 [364]
 
 HALCYON DAYS 
 
 that hostages were being given to fortune. Mike, 
 in his newborn dignity, discussed the future in its 
 bearings on their acquisition. 
 
 "It's blooded stock we want," he suggested, 
 "and we must improve the breed. Those cattle 
 run mostly now to horns and legs; it's a little 
 more body they want." 
 
 Ranee intimated that an Irish bull might do. 
 
 "None of your joking," he retorted, "it's 
 serious questions we are debating. We will fince 
 the land to kape our bastes from straying. 
 Hivins, that manes sivin or eight miles of boards ! 
 It 's a tract of timber land ye '11 want to buy nixt. 
 I per save I must get back to the mine to provide 
 for the many contingencies. Sure, it 's mighty 
 good to look out over the land and think you have 
 rights to it that none can deny. Do ye mind, 
 byes, after we had struck it up on the mountain, 
 the day Ranee climbed the Slug Canyon trail 
 sick and sore he was wid a bullet just taken out 
 of his lungs, how we met that night in the cabin 
 for to christen the place wid an appropriate 
 name? It was the ould man over there who hit 
 the nail on the head wid 'The City of Six' ! Many 
 have come, and many have gone; we are siven 
 now instead of six, and a prospect for more in 
 
 [365]
 
 THE CITY OF SIX 
 
 good time. There was no better place, and sorry 
 I '11 be whin the time comes to lave it ; but," wav- 
 ing his hand toward the moon-bathed hills and the 
 shadows athwart the vale, "ye can't deny we Ve 
 all arrived at Peaceful Valley." 
 
 THE END
 
 SEP 07 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A.
 
 3 1970 00699 4062 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000270802 2
 
 CHAUNiCEYL. 
 CANFIELD