THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
IN MEMORY OF
MRS. VIRGINIA B. SPORER
1
NOVELS AND STORIES
OF
BRET HARTE
THREE PARTNERS, OR THE BIG STRIKE ON
HEAVY TREE HILL
UNDER THE REDWOODS
PRINTED BY
ARRANGEMENT
WITH
HOUGHTON
MIFFLIN
COMPANY
THE JEFFERSON PRESS
BOSTON NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT, 1897 AND I 9 ol t BY BRET HARTB
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
THREE PARTNERS; OR, THE
BIG STRIKE ON HEAVY
TREE HILL
2039872
THREE PARTNERS.
PROLOGUE.
THE sun was going down on the Black
Spur Range. The red light it had kindled
there was still eating its way along the ser-
ried crest, showing through gaps in the
ranks of pines, etching out the interstices of
broken boughs, fading away and then flash-
ing suddenly out again like sparks in burnt-
up paper. Then the night wind swept
down the whole mountain side, and began
its usual struggle with the shadows upclimb-
ing from the valley, only to lose itself in the
end and be absorbed in the all-conquering
darkness. Yet for some time the pines on
the long slope of Heavy Tree Hill mur-
mured and protested with swaying arms;
but as the shadows stole upwards, and cabin
after cabin and tunnel after tunnel were
swallowed up, a complete silence followed.
2 THREE PARTNERS.
Only the sky remained visible a vast con-
cave mirror of dull steel, in which the stars
did not seem to be set, but only reflected.
A single cabin door on the crest of Heavy
Tree Hill had remained open to the wind
and darkness. Then it was slowly shut by
an invisible figure, afterwards revealed by
the embers of the fire it was stirring. At
first only this figure brooding over the
hearth was shown, but as the flames leaped
up, two other figures could be seen sitting
motionless before it. When the door was
shut, they acknowledged that interruption
by slightly changing their position ; the one
who had risen to shut the door sank back
into an invisible seat, but the attitude of
each man was one of profound reflection or
reserve, and apparently upon some common
subject which made them respect each other's
silence. However, this was at last broken
by a laugh. It was a boyish laugh, and
came from the youngest of the party. The
two others turned their profiles and glanced
inquiringly towards him, but did not speak.
u I was thinking," he began in apologetic
explanation, " how mighty queer it was that
while we were working like niggers on grub
THESE PARTNERS. 3
wages, without the ghost of a chance of
making a strike, how we used to sit here,
night after night, and flapdoodle and specu-
late about what we 'd do if we ever did
make one ; and now, Great Scott ! that we
have made it, and are just wallowing in gold,
here we are sitting as glum and silent as if
we 'd had a washout ! Why, Lord ! I re-
member one night not so long ago, either
that you two quarreled over the swell
hotel you were going to stop at in 'Frisco,
and whether you would n't strike straight
out for London and Rome and Paris, or
go away to Japan and China and round by
India and the Red Sea."
" No, we did n't quarrel over it," said one
of the figures gently ; " there was only a
little discussion."
" Yes, but you did, though," returned the
young fellow mischievously, " and you told
Stacy, there, that we 'd better learn some-
thing of the world before we tried to buy it
or even hire it, and that it was just as well
to get the hayseed out of our hair and the
slumgullion off our boots before we mixed in
polite society."
" Well, I don't see what 's the matter
4 THREE PARTNERS.
with that sentiment now," returned the sec-
ond speaker good-humoredly ; " only," he
added gravely, "we didn't quarrel God
forbid ! "
There was something in the speaker's
tone which seemed to touch a common chord
in their natures, and this was voiced by
Barker with sudden and almost pathetic
earnestness. " I tell you what, boys, we
ought to swear here to-night to always stand
by each other in luck and out of it ! We
ought to hold ourselves always at each other's
call. We ought to have a kind of pass-
word or signal, you know, by which we
could summon each other at any time from
any quarter of the globe ! "
" Come off the roof, Barker," murmured
Stacy, without lifting his eyes from the fire.
But Demorest smiled and glanced tolerantly
at the younger man.
"Yes, but look here, Stacy," continued
Barker, " comrades like us, in the old days,
used to do that in times of trouble and
adventures. Why should n't we do it in our
luck?"
" There 's a good deal in that, Barker
boy," said Demorest, " though, as a general
THREE PARTNERS. 5
thing, passwords butter no parsnips, and the
ordinary, every-day, single yelp from a wolf
brings the whole pack together for business
about as qaick as a password. But you
cling to that sentiment, and put it away
with your gold-dust in your belt."
" What I like about Barker is his com-
modiousness," said Stacy. " Here he is, the
only man among us that has his future
fixed and his preemption lines laid out and
registered. He 's already got a girl that
he 's going to marry and settle down with
on the strength of his luck. And I 'd like
to know what Kitty Carter, when she 's Mrs.
Barker, would say to her husband being
signaled for from Asia or Africa. I don't
seem to see her tumbling to any password.
And when he and she go into a new part-
nership, I reckon she '11 let the old one
slide."
" That 's just where you 're wrong I " said
Barker, with quickly rising color. " She 's
the sweetest girl in the world, and she 'd be
sure to understand our feelings. Why, she
think', everything of you two ; she was just
eager for you to get this claim, which has
put us where we are, when I held back, and
6 THREE PARTNERS.
if it had n't been for her, by Jove 1 we
would n't have had it."
"That was only because she cared for
you" returned Stacy, with u half-yawn ;
" and now that you 've got your share she
is n't going to take a breathless interest in
us. And, by the way, I 'd rather you 'd
remind us that we owe our luck, to her than
that she should ever remind you of it."
" What do you mean ? " said Barker
quickly. But Demorest here rose lazily,
and, throwing a gigantic shadow on the
wall, stood between the two with his back
to the fire. " He means," he said slowly,
" that you 're talking rot, and so is he.
However, as yours comes from the heart and
his from the head, I prefer yours. But
you 're both making me tired. Let 's have
a fresh deal."
Nobody ever dreamed of contradicting
Demorest. Nevertheless, Barker persisted
eagerly : " But is n't it better for us to look
at this cheerfully and happily all round?
There 's nothing criminal in our having
made a strike ! It seems to me, boyt> that
of all ways of making money it 's the
squarest and most level ; nobody is the
THREE PARTNERS, 1
poorer for it ; our luck brings no misfortune
to others. The gold was put there ages ago
for anybody to find ; we found it. It has n't
been tarnished by man's touch before. I
don't know how it strikes you, boys, but it
seems to me that of all gifts that are going
it is the straightest. For whether we de-
serve it or not, it comes to us first-hand
from God ! "
The two men glanced quickly at the
speaker, whose face flushed and then smiled
embarrassedly as if ashamed of the enthusi-
asm into which he had been betrayed. But
Demorest did not smile, and Stacy's eyes
shone in the firelight as he said languidly,
" I never heard that prospecting was a reli-
gious occupation before. But I should n't
wonder if you 're right, Barker boy. So
let 's liquor up."
Nevertheless he did not move, nor did the
others. The fire leaped higher, bringing
out the rude rafters and sternly economic
details of the rough cabin, and making the
occupants in their seats before the fire look
gigantic by contrast.
"Who shut the door?" said Demorest
after a pause.
8 THREE PARTNERS.
" I did," said Barker. " I reckoned it
was getting cold."
" Better open it again, now that the fire 's
blazing. It will light the way if any of the
men from below want to drop in this even-
ing."
Stacy stared at his companion. " I
thought that it was understood that we were
giving them that dinner at Boomville to-
morrow night, so that we might have the
last evening here by ourselves in peace and
quietness ? "
" Yes, but if any one did want to come it
would seem churlish to shut him out," said
Demorest.
" I reckon you 're feeling very much as I
am," said Stacy, " that this good fortune is
rather crowding to us three alone. For my-
self, I know," he continued, with a back-
ward glance towards a blanketed, covered
pile in the corner of the cabin, " that I feel
rather oppressed by by its specific
gravity, I calculate and sort of crampy
and twitchy in the legs, as if I ought to
* lite ' out and do something, and yet it holds
me here. All the same, I doubt if anybody
will come up except from curiosity. Our
THREE PARTNERS. 9
luck has made them rather sore down the
hill, for all they 're coming to the dinner
to-morrow."
" That 's only human nature," said De-
morest.
" But," said Barker eagerly, " what does
it mean ? Why, only this afternoon, when
I was passing the ' Old Kentuck ' tunnel,
where those Marshalls have been grubbing
along for four years without making a single
strike, I felt ashamed to look at them, and
as they barely nodded to me I slinked by
as if I had done them an injury. I don't
understand it."
"It somehow does not seem to square
with this ' gift of God ' idea of yours, does
it ? " said Stacy. " But we '11 open the door
and give them a show."
As he did so it seemed as if the night
were their only guest, and had been waiting
on the threshold to now enter bodily and
pervade all things with its presence. With
that cool, fragrant inflow of air they breathed
freely. The red edge had gone from Black
Spur, but it was even more clearly defined
against the sky in its towering blackness.
The sky itself had grown lighter, although
10 THREE PARTNERS.
the stars still seemed mere reflections of the
solitary pin-points of light scattered along
the concave valley below. Mingling with
the cooler, restful air of the summit, yet
penetratingly distinct from it, arose the
stimulating breath of the pines below, still
hot and panting from the day-long sun.
The silence was intense. The far-off bark-
ing of a dog on the invisible river-bar nearly
a mile beneath them came to them like a
sound in a dream. They had risen, and,
standing in the doorway, by common con-
sent turned their faces to the east. It was
the frequent attitude of the home-remember-
ing miner, and it gave him the crowning
glory of the view. For, beyond the pine-
hearsed summits, rarely seen except against
the evening sky, lay a thin, white cloud like a
dropped portion of the Milky Way. Faint
with an indescribable pallor, remote yet dis-
tinct enough to assert itself above and be-
yond all surrounding objects, it was always
there. It was the snow-line of the Sierras.
They turned away and silently reseated
themselves, the same thought in the minds
of each. Here was something they could
not take away, something to be left for-
THREE PARTNERS. 11
ever and irretrievably behind, left with
the healthy life they had been leading, the
cheerful endeavor, the undying hopefulness
which it had fostered and blessed. Was
what they were taking away worth it ? And
oddly enough, frank and outspoken as they
had always been to each other, that common
thought remained unuttered. Even Barker
was silent ; perhaps he was also thinking of
Kitty.
Suddenly two figures appeared in the very
doorway of the cabin. The effect was star-
tling upon the partners, who had only just
reseated themselves, and for a moment they
had forgotten that the narrow band of light
which shot forth from the open door ren-
dered the darkness on either side of it more
impenetrable, and that out of this darkness,
although themselves guided by the light, the
figures had just emerged. Yet one was
familiar enough. It was the Hill drunkard,
Dick Hall, or, as he was called, " Whiskey
Dick," or, indicated still more succinctly by
the Hill humorists, " Alky Hall."
Everybody had seen that sodden, puffy,
but good-humored face ; everybody had felt
the fiery exhalations of that enormous red
12 THREE PARTNERS.
beard, which always seemed to be kept in a
state of moist, unkempt luxuriance by liquor ;
everybody knew the absurd dignity of man-
ner and attempted precision of statement
with which he was wont to disguise his fre-
quent excesses. Very few, however, knew,
or cared to know, the pathetic weariness and
chilling horror that sometimes looked out of
those bloodshot eyes.
He was evidently equally unprepared for
the three silent seated figures before the
door, and for a moment looked at them
blankly with the doubts of a frequently de-
ceived perception. Was he sure that they
were quite real ? He had not dared to look
at his companion for verification, but smiled
vaguely.
" Good-evening," said Demorest plea-
santly.
Whiskey Dick's face brightened. " Good-
evenin', good-evenin' yourselves, boys and
see how you like it ! Lemme interdrush
my ole frien' William J. Steptoe, of Red
Gulch. Stepsho Steptoe is shtay
ish stay " He stopped, hiccupped, waved
his hand gravely, and with an air of re-
proacMul dignity concluded, " sojourning for
THREE PARTNERS. 13
the present on the Bar. We wish to offer
our congrashulashen and felish felish "
He paused again, and, leaning against the
door-post, added severely, " itations."
His companion, however, laughed coarsely,
and, pushing past Dick, entered the cabin.
He was a short, powerful man, with a closely
cropped crust of beard and hair that seemed
to adhere to his round head like moss or
lichen. He cast a glance furtive rather
than curious around the cabin, and said,
with a familiarity that had not even good
humor to excuse it, " So you 're the gay ga-
loots who 've made the big strike ? Thought
I 'd meander up the Hill with this old bloat
Alky, and drop in to see the show. And
here you are, feeling your oats, eh ? and not
caring any particular G d d n if school
keeps or not."
" Show Mr. Steptoe the whiskey," said
Demorest to Stacy. Then quietly addressing
Dick, but ignoring Steptoe as completely as
Steptoe had ignored his unfortunate com-
panion, he said, " You quite startled us at
first. We did not see you come up the
trail."
" No. We came up the back trail to
14 THREE PARTNERS.
please Steptoe, who wanted to see round the
cabin," said Dick, glancing nervously yet
with a forced indifference towards the whis-
key which Stacy was offering to the stranger.
" What yer gettiii' off there ? " said Step-
toe, facing Dick almost brutally. " You
know your tangled legs wouldn't take you
straight up the trail, and you had to make
a circumbendibus. Gosh ! if you had n't
scented this licker at the top you'd have
never found it."
" No matter ! I 'm glad you did find it,
Dick," said Demorest, " and I hope you '11
find the liquor good enough to pay you for
the trouble."
Barker stared at Demorest. This extraor-
dinary tolerance of the drunkard was some-
thing new in his partner. But at a glance
from Demorest he led Dick to the demijohn
and tin cup which stood on a table in the
corner. And in another moment Dick had
forgotten his companion's rudeness.
Demorest remained by the door, looking
out into the darkness.
"Well," said Steptoe, putting down his
emptied cup, " trot out your strike. I
reckon our eyes are strong enough to bear
THREE PARTNERS. 15
it now." Stacy drew the blanket from the
vague pile that stood in the corner, and
discovered a deep tin prospecting-pan. It
was heaped with several large fragments
of quartz. At first the marble whiteness
of the quartz and the glittering crystals of
mica in its veins were the most noticeable,
but as they drew closer they could see the
dull yellow of gold filling the decomposed
and honeycombed portion of the rock as if
still liquid and molten. The eyes of the
party sparkled like the mica even those
of Barker and Stacy, who were already fa-
miliar with the treasure.
" Which is the richest chunk ? " asked
Steptoe in a thickening voice.
Stacy pointed it out.
" Why, it 's smaller than the others."
" Heft it in your hand," said Barker,
with boyish enthusiasm.
The short, thick fingers of Steptoe grasped
it with a certain aquiline suggestion ; his
whole arm strained over it until his face
grew purple, but he could not lift it.
" Thar useter be a little game in the
'Frisco Mint," said Dick, restored to fluency
by his liquor, " when thar war ladies visit-
16 THREE PARTNERS.
ing it, and that was to offer to give 'em any
of those little boxes of gold coin, that con-
tained five thousand dollars, ef they would
kindly lift it from the counter and take it
away ! It was n't no bigger than one of
these chunks ; but Jiminy ! you oughter
have seed them gals grip and heave on it,
and then hev to give it up ! You see they
didn't know anything about the paci
(hie) the speshif " He stopped with
great dignity, and added with painfid preci-
sion, " the specific gravity of gold."
" Dry up ! " said Steptoe roughly. Then
turning to Stacy he said abruptly, " But
where 's the rest of it ? You 've got more
than that."
" We sent it to Boomville this morning.
You see we 've sold out our claim to a com-
pany who take it up to-morrow, and put up
a mill and stamps. In fact, it 's under their
charge now. They've got a gang of men
on the claim already."
" And what mout ye hev got for it, if it 's
a fair question ? " said Steptoe, with a forced
smile.
Stacy smiled also. " I don't know that
it 's a business question," he said.
THREE PARTNERS. 17
" Five hundred thousand dollars," said
Demorest abruptly from the doorway, " and
a treble interest."
The eyes of the two men met. There
was no mistaking the dull fire of envy in
Steptoe's glance, but Demorest received it
with a certain cold curiosity, and turned
away as the sound of arriving voices came
from without.
" Five hundred thousand 's a big figger,"
said Steptoe, with a coarse laugh, " and I
don't wonder it makes you feel so d d
sassy. But it was a fair question."
Unfortunately it here occurred to the
whiskey-stimulated brain of Dick that the
friend he had introduced was being treated
with scant courtesy, and he forgot his own
treatment by Steptoe. Leaning against the
wall he waved a dignified rebuke. " I 'm
sashified my ole frien' is akshuated by only
businesh principles." He paused, recol-
lected himself, and added with great preci-
sion : " When I say he himself has a valu-
able claim in Red Gulch, and to my shertain
knowledge has received offers I have said
enough."
The laugh that broke from Stacy and
18 THREE PARTNERS.
Barker, to whom the infelicitous reputation
of Red Gulch was notorious, did not allay
Steptoe's irritation. He darted a vindictive
glance at the unfortunate Dick, but joined
in the laugh. " And what was ye goin' to
do with that?" he said, pointing to the
treasure.
" Oh, we 're taking that with us. There 's
a chunk for each of us as a memento. We
cast lots for the choice, and Demorest won,
that one which you could n't lift with one
hand, you know," said Stacy.
" Oh, could n't I ? I reckon you ain't
goin' to give me the same chance that they
did at the Mint, eh ? "
Although the remark was accompanied
with his usual coarse, familiar laugh, there
was a look in his eye so inconsequent in its
significance that Stacy would have made
some reply, but at this moment Demorest re-
entered the cabin, ushering in a half dozen
miners from the Bar below. They were,
although youngish men, some of the older
locators in the vicinity, yet, through years
of seclusion and uneventful labors, they had
acquired a certain childish simplicity of
thought and manner that was alternately
THREE PAETNEES. 19
amusing and pathetic. They had never in-
truded upon the reserve of the three partners
of Heavy Tree Hill before ; nothing but an
infantine curiosity, a shy recognition of the
partners' courtesy in inviting them with the
whole population of Heavy Tree to the
dinner the next day, and the never-to-be-
resisted temptation of an evening of " free
liquor " and forgetfulness of the past had
brought them there now. Among them, and
yet not of them, was a young man who, al-
though speaking English without accent, was
distinctly of a different nationality and race.
This, with a certain neatness of dress and ar-
tificial suavity of address, had gained him the
nickname of " the Count " and " Frenchy,"
although he was really of Flemish extraction.
He was the Union Ditch Company's agent
on the Bar, by virtue of his knowledge of
languages.
Barker uttered an exclamation of pleasure
when he saw him. Himself the incarnation
of naturalness, he had always secretly ad-
mired this young foreigner, with his lac-
quered smoothness, although a vague con-
sciousness that neither Stacy nor Demorest
shared his feelings had restricted their
20 THREE PARTNERS.
acquaintance. Nevertheless, he was proud
now to see the bow with which Paul Van
Loo entered the cabin as if it were a drawing-
room, and perhaps did not reflect upon that
want of real feeling in an act which made
the others uncomfortable.
The slight awkwardness their entrance
produced, however, was quickly forgotten
when the blanket was again lifted from the
pan of treasure. Singularly enough, too,
the same feverish light came into the eyes of
each as they all gathered around this yellow
shrine. Even the polite Paul rudely elbowed
his way between the others, though his arti-
ficial " Pardon " seemed to Barker to con-
done this act of brutal instinct. But it was
more instructive to observe the manner in
which the older locators received this confir-
mation of the fickle Fortune that had over-
looked their weary labors and years of
waiting to lavish her favors on the new and
inexperienced amateurs. Yet as they turned
their dazzled eyes upon the three partners
there was no envy or malice in their depths,
no reproach on their lips, no insincerity in
their wondering satisfaction. Rather there
was a touching, almost childlike resumption
THREE PARTNERS. 21
of hope as they gazed at this conclusive evi-
dence of Nature's bounty. The gold had
been there they had only missed it ! And
if there, more could be found ! Was it not
a proof of the richness of Heavy Tree Hill ?
So strongly was this reflected on their faces
that a casual observer, contrasting them
with the thoughtful countenances of the real
owners, would have thought them the lucky
ones. It touched Barker's quick sympathies,
it puzzled Stacy, it made Demorest more
serious, it aroused Steptoe's active contempt.
Whiskey Dick alone remained stolid and
impassive in a desperate attempt to pull
himself once more together. Eventually he
succeeded, even to the ambitious achieve-
ment of mounting a chair and lifting his
tin cup with a dangerously unsteady hand,
which did not, however, affect his precision
of utterance, and said :
" Order, gentlemen ! We '11 drink suc-
cess to to "
" The next strike ! " said Barker, leaping
impetuously on another chair and beaming
upon the old locators " and may it come
to those who have so long deserved it ! "
His sincere and generous enthusiasm
22 THESE PARTNERS.
seemed to break the spell of silence that
had fallen upon them. Other toasts quickly
followed. In the general good feeling Bar-
ker attached himself to Van Loo with his
usual boyish effusion, and in a burst of con-
fidence imparted the secret of his engage-
ment to Kitty Carter. Van Loo listened
with polite attention, formal congratulations,
but inscrutable eyes, that occasionally wan-
dered to Stacy and again to the treasure.
A slight chill of disappointment came over
Barker's quick sensitiveness. Perhaps his
enthusiasm had bored this superior man of
the world. Perhaps his confidences were
in bad taste ! With a new sense of his
inexperience he turned sadly away. Van
Loo took that opportunity to approach
Stacy.
" What 's all this I hear of Barker being
engaged to Miss Carter ? " he said, with a
faintly superior smile. " Is it really true ? "
" Yes. Why should n't it be ? " returned
Stacy bluntly.
Van Loo was instantly deprecating and
smiling. " Why not, of course ? But is n't
it sudden ? "
" They have known each other ever since
THREE PARTNERS. 28
he 's been on Heavy Tree Hill," responded
Stacy.
" Ah, yes ! True," said Van Loo. " But
now "
" Well he 's got money enough to
marry, and he 's going to marry."
" Rather young, is n't he ? " said Van Loo,
still deprecatingly. " And she 's got nothing.
Used to wait on the table at her father's
hotel in Boomville, did n't she ? "
"Yes. What of that? We all know
it."
" Of course. It 's an excellent thing for
her and her father. He '11 have a rich
son-in-law. About two hundred thousand
is his share, is n't it ? I suppose old Carter
is delighted ? "
Stacy had thought this before, but did
not care to have it corroborated by this
superfine young foreigner. " And I don't
reckon that Barker is offended if he is," he
said curtly as he turned away. Nevertheless,
he felt irritated that one of the three supe-
rior partners of Heavy Tree Hill should be
thought a dupe.
Suddenly the conversation dropped, the
laughter ceased. Every one turned round,
24 THESE PARTNERS.
and, by a common instinct, looked towards
the door. From the obscurity of the hill
slope below came a wonderful tenor voice,
modulated by distance and spiritualized by
the darkness :
" When at some future day
I shall be far away,
Thou wilt be weeping,
Thy lone watch keeping."
The men looked at one another. " That 's
Jack Hamlin," they said. " What 's he
doing here ? "
" The wolves are gathering around fresh
meat," said Steptoe, with his coarse laugh and
a glance at the treasure. " Did n't ye know
he came over from Red Dog yesterday ? "
" Well, give Jack a fair show and his
own game," said one of the old locators,
" and he 'd clean out that pile afore sun-
rise."
" And lose it next day," added another.
" But never turn a hair or change a
muscle in either case," said a third. " Lord !
I've heard him sing away just like that
when he 's been leaving the board with five
thousand dollars in his pocket, or going
away stripped of his last red cent."
THREE PABTNEBS. 25
Van Loo, who had been listening with a
peculiar smile, here said in his most depre-
cating manner, " Yes, but did you never
consider the influence that such a man has
on the hard-working tunnelmen, who are
ready to gamble their whole week's earnings
to him? Perhaps not. But I know the
difficulties of getting the Ditch rates from
these men when he has been in camp."
He glanced around him with some impor-
tance, but only a laugh followed his speech.
" Come, Frenchy," said an old locator, " you
only say that because your little brother
wanted to play with Jack like a grown man,
and when Jack ordered him off the board
and he became sassy, Jack scooted him outer
the saloon."
Van Loo's face reddened with an anger
that had the apparent effect of removing
every trace of his former polished repose,
and leaving only a hard outline beneath.
At which Demorest interfered :
" I can't say that I see much difference in
gambling by putting money into a hole in
the ground and expecting to take more from
it than by putting it on a card for the same
purpose."
26 THREE PARTNERS.
Here the ravishing tenor voice, which had
been approaching, ceased, and was succeeded
by a heart-breaking and equally melodious
whistling to finish the bar of the singer's
song. And the next moment Jack Hamlin
appeared in the doorway.
Whatever was his present financial condi-
tion, in perfect self-possession and charming
sang-froid he fully bore out his previous
description. He was as clean and refresh-
ing looking as a madrono-tree in the dust-
blown forest. An odor of scented soap and
freshly ironed linen was wafted from him ;
there was scarcely a crease in his white
waistcoat, nor a speck upon his varnished
shoes. He might have been an auditor of the
previous conversation, so quickly and com-
pletely did he seem to take in the whole sit-
uation at a glance. Perhaps there was an
extra tilt to his black-ribboned Panama hat,
and a certain dancing devilry in his brown
eyes which might also have been an an-
swer to adverse criticism.
" When I, his truth to prove, would trifle
with my love," he warbled in general contin-
uance from the doorway. Then dropping
cheerfully hi to speech, he added, " Well,
THESE PARTNERS. 27
boys, I am here to welcome the little stran-
ger, and to trust that the family are doing
as well as can be expected. Ah ! there it
is ! Bless it ! " he went on, walking lei-
surely to the treasure. " Triplets, too !
and plump at that. Have you had 'em
weighed ? "
Frankness was an essential quality of
Heavy Tree Hill. " We were just saying,
Jack," said an old locator, " that, giving
you a fair show and your own game, you
could manage to get away with that pile
before daybreak."
" And I 'm just thinking," said Jack
cheerfully, "that there were some of you
here that could do that without any such
useless preliminary." His brown eyes rested
for a moment on Steptoe, but turning quite
abruptly to Van Loo, he held out his hand.
Startled and embarrassed before the others,
the young man at last advanced his, when
Jack coolly put his own, as if forgetfully, in
his pocket. " I thought you might like to
know what that little brother of yours is
doing," he said to Van Loo, yet looking at
Steptoe. " I found him wandering about
the Hill here quite drunk."
28 THREE PARTNERS.
" I have repeatedly warned him " be-
gan Van Loo, reddening.
"Against bad company I know," sug-
gested Jack gayly ; " yet in spite of all that,
I think he owes some of his liquor to Steptoe
yonder."
"I never supposed the fool would get
drunk over a glass of whiskey offered in
fun," said Steptoe harshly, yet evidently
quite as much disconcerted as angry.
" The trouble with Steptoe," said Hamlin,
thoughtfully spanning his slim waist with
both hands as he looked down at his polished
shoes, "is that he has such a soft-hearted
liking for all weaknesses. Always wanting
to protect chaps that can't look after them-
selves, whether it 's Whiskey Dick there
when he has a pull on, or some nigger when
he 's made a little strike, or that straying
lamb of Van Loo's when he 's puppy drunk.
But you 're wrong about me, boys. You
can't draw me in any game to-night. This
is one of my nights off, which I devote ex-
clusively to contemplation and song. But,"
he added, suddenly turning to his three hosts
with a bewildering and fascinating change
of expression, " I could n't resist coming
THREE PARTNERS. 29
up here to see you and your pile, even if I
never saw the one or the other before, and
am not likely to see either again. I believe
in luck ! And it comes a mighty sight
oftener than a fellow thinks it does. But it
does n't come to stay. So I 'd advise you to
keep your eyes skinned, and hang on to it
while it 's with you, like grim death. So
long ! "
Resisting all attempts of his hosts who
had apparently fallen as suddenly and unac-
countably under the magic of his manner
to detain him longer, he stepped lightly
away, his voice presently rising again in
melody as he descended the hill. Nor was
it at all remarkable that the others, appar-
ently drawn by the same inevitable magnet-
ism, were impelled to follow him, naturally
joining their voices with his, leaving Steptoe
and Van Loo so markedly behind them alone
that they were compelled at last in sheer
embarrassment to close up the rear of the
procession. In another moment the cabin
and the three partners again relapsed into
the peace and quiet of the night. With the
dying away of the last voices on the hillside
the old solitude reasserted itself.
30 THREE PARTNERS.
But since the irruption of the strangers
they had lost their former sluggish contem-
plation, and now busied themselves in prepa-
ration for their early departure from the
cabin the next morning. They had arranged
to spend the following day and night at
Boomville and Carter's Hotel, where they
were to give their farewell dinner to Heavy
Tree Hill. They talked but little together :
since the rebuff his enthusiastic confidences
had received from Van Loo, Barker had
been grave and thoughtful, and Stacy, with
the irritating recollection of Van Loo's criti-
cisms in his mind, had refrained from his
usual rallying of Barker. Oddly enough,
they spoke chiefly of Jack Hamlin, till
then personally a stranger to them, on ac-
count of his inf elix reputation, and even
the critical Demorest expressed a wish they
had known him before. " But you never
know the real value of anything until you 're
quitting it or it 's quitting you," he added
sententiously.
Barker and Stacy both stared at their
companion. It was unlike Demorest to re-
gret anything particularly a mere social
diversion.
THESE PAETNEBS. 31
" They say," remarked Stacy, " that if you
had known Jack Hamlin earlier and profes-
sionally, a great deal of real value would
have quitted you before he did."
" Don't repeat that rot flung out by men
who have played Jack's game and lost," re-
turned Demorest derisively. " I 'd rather
trust him than " He stopped, glanced
at the meditative Barker, and then concluded
abruptly, " the whole caboodle of his critics."
They were silent for a few moments, and
then seemed to have fallen into their former
dreamy mood as they relapsed into their old
seats again. At last Stacy drew a long
breath. " I wish we had sent those nuggets
off with the others this morning."
" Why ? " said Deraorest suddenly.
"Why? Well, d n it aU! they kind
of oppress me, don't you see. I seem to feel
'em here, on my chest all the three," re-
turned Stacy only half jocularly. " It 's their
d d specific gravity, I suppose. I don't
like the idea of sleeping in the same room
with 'em. They 're altogether too much for
us three men to be left alone with."
" You don't mean that you think that
anybody would attempt " said Demorest.
32 THREE PARTNERS.
Stacy curled a fighting lip rather super-
ciliously. " No ; I don't think that I
rather wish I did. It 's the blessed chunks
of solid gold that seem to have got us fast,
don't you know, and are going to stick to
us for good or ill. A sort of Frankenstein
monster that we 've picked out of a hole
from below."
" I know just what Stacy means," said
Barker breathlessly, rounding his gray eyes.
" I 've felt it, too. Could n't we make a sort
of cache of it bury it just outside the cabin
for to-night ? It would be sort of putting it
back into its old place, you know, for the
time being. It might like it."
The other two laughed. " Rather rough
on Providence, Barker boy," said Stacy,
" handing back the Heaven-sent gift so soon !
Besides, what 's to keep any prospector from
coming along and making a strike of it?
You know that 's mining law if you
have n't preempted the spot as a claim."
But Barker was too staggered by this
material statement to make any reply, and
Demorest arose. " And I feel that you 'd
both better be turning in, as we 've got to
get up early." He went to the corner of the
THREE PARTNERS. 33
cabin, and threw the blanket back over the
pan and its treasure. " There ! that '11 keep
the chunks from getting up to ride astride
of you like a nightmare." He shut the door
and gave a momentary glance at its cheap
hinges and the absence of bolt or bar. Stacy
caught his eye. " We '11 miss this security
in San Francisco perhaps even in Boom-
ville," he sighed.
It was scarcely ten o'clock, but Stacy and
Barker had begun to undress themselves with
intervals <?f yawning and desultory talk,
Barker continuing an amusing story, with
one stocking off and his trousers hanging on
his arm, until at last both men were snugly
curled up in their respective bunks. Pre-
sently Stacy's voice came from under the
blankets :
" Hallo ! are n't you going to turn in,
too?"
" Not yet," said Demorest from his chair
before the fire. " You see it 's the last
night in the old shanty, and I reckon I '11
see the rest of it out."
" That 's so," said the impulsive Barker,
struggling violently with his blankets. " I
tell you what, boys : we just ought to make
34 THREE PARTNERS.
a watch-night of it a regular vigil, jou
know until twelve at least. Hold on !
I '11 get up, too ! " But here Demorest
arose, caught his youthful partner's bare
foot which went searching painfully for the
ground in one hand, tucked it back under
the blankets, and heaping them on the top
of him, patted the bulk with an authorita-
tive, paternal air.
" You '11 just say your prayers and go to
sleep, sonny. You '11 want to be fresh as a
daisy to appear before Miss Kitty to-morrow
early, and you can keep your vigils for
to-morrow night, after dinner, in the back
drawing-room. I said ' Good-night,' and I
mean it ! "
Protesting feebly, Barker finally yielded
in a nestling shiver and a sudden silence.
Demorest walked back to his chair. A pro-
longed snore came from Stacy's bunk ; then
everything was quiet. Demorest stirred up
the fire, cast a huge root upon it, and, lean-
ing back in his chair, sat with half-closed
eyes and dreamed.
It was an old dream that for the past
three years had come to him daily, some-
times even overtaking him under the shade
THREE PARTNERS. 35
of a buckeye in his noontide rest on his
claim, a dream that had never yet failed
to wait for him at night by the fireside
when his partners were at rest ; a dream of
the past, but so real that it always made the
present seem the dream through which he
was moving towards some sure awakening.
It was not strange that it should come to
him to-night, as it had often come before,
slowly shaping itself out of the obscurity as
the vision of a fair young girl seated in one
of the empty chairs before him. Always
the same pretty, childlike face, fraught with
a half -frightened, half-wondering trouble ;
always the same slender, graceful figure, but
always glimmering in diamonds and satin,
or spiritual in lace and pearls, against his
own rude and sordid surroundings ; always
silent with parted lips, until the night wind
smote some chord of recollection, and then
mingled a remembered voice with his own.
JY>r at those times he seemed to speak also,
albeit with closed lips, and an utterance in-
audible to all but her.
" Well ? " he said sadly.
" Well ? " the voice repeated, like a gen-
tle echo blending with his own.
36 THREE PARTNERS.
" You know it all now," he went on.
" You know that it has come at last, all
that I had worked for, prayed for ; all that
would have made us happy here ; all that
would have saved you to me has come at
last, and all too late ! "
" Too late ! " echoed the voice with his.
" You remember," he went on, " the last
day we were together. You remember your
friends and family would have you give me
up a penniless man. You remember when
they reproached you with my poverty, and
told you that it was only your wealth that I
was seeking, that I then determined to go
away and never to return to claim you until
that reproach could be removed. You re-
member, dearest, how you clung to me and
bade me stay with you, even fly with you,
but not to leave you alone with them. You
wore the same dress that day, darling ; your
eyes had the same wondering childlike fear
and trouble in them; your jewels glittered
on you as you trembled, and I refused. In
my pride, or rather in my weakness and
cowardice, I refused. I came away and
broke my heart among these rocks and
ledges, yet grew strong ; and you, my love,
THREE PARTNERS. 37
, sheltered and guarded by those you
loved, you " He stopped and buried his
face in his hands. The night wind breathed
down the chimney, and from the stirred
ashes on the hearth came the soft whisper,
"I died."
"And then," he went on, "I cared for
nothing. Sometimes my heart awoke for
this young partner of mine in his innocent,
trustful love for a girl that even in her
humble station was far beyond his hopes,
and I pitied myself in him. Home, fortune,
friends, I no longer cared for all were
forgotten. And now they are returning to
me only that I may see the hollowness
and vanity of them, and taste the bitterness
for which I have sacrificed you. And here,
on this last night of my exile, I am con-
fronted with only the jealousy, the doubt,
the meanness and selfishness that is to come.
Too late I Too late ! "
The wondering, troubled eyes that had
looked into his here appeared to clear and
brighten with a sweet prescience. Was it
the wind moaning in the chimney that
seemed to whisper to him: "Too late, be-
loved, for me, but not for you. JT died, but
38 THESE PARTNERS.
Love still lives. Be happy, Philip. And
in your happiness I too may live again " ?
He started. In the flickering firelight
the chair was empty. The wind that had
swept down the chimney had stirred the
ashes with a sound like the passage of a
rustling skirt. There was a chill in the air
and a smell like that of opened earth. A
nervous shiver passed over him. Then he
sat upright. There was no mistake ; it was
no superstitious fancy, but a faint, damp
current of air was actually flowing across
his feet towards the fireplace. He was about
to rise when he stopped suddenly and be-
came motionless.
He was actively conscious now of a strange
sound which had affected him even in the
preoccupation of his vision. It was a gentle
brushing of some yielding substance like that
made by a soft broom on sand, or the sweep
of a gown. But to his mountain ears, at-
tuned to every woodland sound, it was not
like the gnawing of gopher or squirrel, the
scratching of wildcat, nor the hairy rubbing
of bear. Nor was it human ; the long, deep
respirations of his sleeping companions were
distinct from that monotonous sound. He
THREE PARTNERS. 39
could not even tell if it were in the cabin or
without. Suddenly his eye fell upon the
pile in the corner. The blanket that cov-
ered the treasure was actually moving !
He rose quickly, but silently, alert, self-
contained, and menacing. For this dreamer,
this bereaved man, this scornful philosopher
of riches had disappeared with that midnight
trespass upon the sacred treasure. The
movement of the blanket ceased ; the soft,
swishing sound recommenced. He drew a
glittering bowie-knife from his boot-leg, and
in three noiseless strides was beside the pile.
There he saw what he fully expected to see,
a narrow, horizontal gap between the log
walls of the cabin and the adobe floor, slowly
widening and deepening by the burrowing of
unseen hands from without. The cold outer
air which he had felt before was now plainly
flowing into the heated cabin through the
opening. The swishing sound recommenced,
and stopped. Then the four fingers of a
hand, palm downwards, were cautiously in-
troduced between the bottom log and the
denuded floor. Upon that intruding hand
the bowie-knife of Demorest descended like
a flash of lightning. There was no outcry.
40 THREE PARTNERS.
Even in that supreme moment Demorest
felt a pang of admiration for the stoicism of
the unseen trespasser. But the maimed
hand was quickly withdrawn, and as quickly
Demorest rushed to the door and dashed into
the outer darkness.
For an instant he was dazed and bewil-
dered by the sudden change. But the next
moment he saw a dodging, doubling figure
running before him, and threw himself upon
it. In the shock both men fell, but even in
that contact Demorest felt the tangled beard
and alcoholic fumes of Whiskey Dick, and
felt also that the hands which were thrown
up against his breast, the palms turned out-
ward with the instinctive movement of a
timid, defenseless man, were unstained with
soil or blood. With an oath he threw the
drunkard from him and dashed to the rear
of the cabin. But too late ! There, indeed,
was the scattered earth, there the widened
burrow as it had been excavated apparently
by that mutilated hand but nothing else !
He turned back to Whiskey Dick. But
the miserable man, although still retaining a
look of dazed terror in his eyes, had recov-
ered his feet in a kind of angry confidence
THESE PARTNERS. 41
and a forced sense of injury. What did
Demorest mean by attacking " innoslient "
gentlemen on the trail outside his cabin ?
Yes ! outside his cabin, he would swear it !
" What were you doing here at mid-
night ? " demanded Demorest.
What was he doing? What was any
gentleman doing? He wasn't any molly-
coddle to go to bed at ten o'clock ! What
was he doing ? Well he 'd been with men
who didn't shut their doors and turn the
boys out just in the shank of the evening.
He was n't any Barker to be wet-nursed by
Demorest.
" Some one else was here ! " said Demorest
sternly, with his eyes fixed on Whiskey
Dick. The dull glaze which seemed to veil
the outer world from the drunkard's pupils
shifted suddenly with such a look of direct
horror that Demorest was fain to turn away
his own. But the veil mercifully returned,
and with it Dick's worked-up sense of injury.
Nobody was there not "a shole." Did
Demorest think if there had been any of
his friends there they would have stood by
like " dogsh " and seen him insulted ?
Demorest tumed away and reentered the
42 THREE PARTNERS.
cabin as Dick lurched heavily forward, still
muttering, down the trail. The excitement
over, a sickening repugnance to the whole
incident took the place of Demorest's resent-
ment and indignation. There had been a
cowardly attempt to rob them of their mis-
erable treasure. He had met it and frus-
trated it in almost as brutal a fashion : the
gold was already tarnished with blood. To
his surprise, yet relief, he found his partners
unconscious of the outrage, still sleeping
with the physical immobility of over-excited
and tired men. Should he awaken them ?
No ! He should have to awaken also their
suspicions and desire for revenge. There
was no danger of a further attack ; there
was no fear that the culprit would disclose
himself, and to-morrow they would be far
away. Let oblivion rest upon that night's
stain on the honor of Heavy Tree Hill.
He rolled a small barrel before the open-
ing, smoothed the dislodged earth, replaced
the pan with its treasure, and trusted that in
the bustle of the early morning departure
his partners might not notice any change.
Stopping before the bunk of Stacy he glanced
at the sleeping man. He was lying on his
THESE PAETNEES. 43
back, but breathing heavily, and his hands
were moving towards his chest as if, indeed,
his strange fancy of the golden incubus
were being realized. Demorest would have
wakened him, but presently, with a sigh of
relief, the sleeper turned over on his side. It
was pleasanter to look at Barker, whose damp
curls were matted over his smooth, boyish
forehead, and whose lips were parted in a
smile under the silken wings of his brown
mustache. He, too, seemed to be trying to
speak, and remembering some previous re-
velations which had amused them, Demorest
leaned over him fraternally with an answer-
ing smile, waiting for the beloved one's name
to pass the young man's lips. But he only
murmured, " Three hundred thousand
dollars ! " The elder man turned away with
a grave face. The influence of the treasure
was paramount.
When he had placed one of the chairs
against the unprotected door at an angle
which would prevent any easy or noiseless
intrusion, Demorest threw himself on his
bunk without undressing, and turned his face
towards the single window of the cabin that
looked towards the east. He did not appre-
44 TEHEE PARTNERS.
hend another covert attempt against the
gold. He did not fear a robbery with force
and arms, although he was satisfied that
there was more than one concerned in it,
but this he attributed only to the encumber-
ing weight of their expected booty. He
simply waited for the dawn. It was some
time before his eyes were greeted with the
vague opaline brightness of the firmament
which meant the vanishing of the pallid
snow-line before the coming day. A bird
twittered on the roof. The air was chill ;
he drew his blanket around him. Then he
closed his eyes, he fancied only for a mo-
ment, but when he opened them the door
was standing open in the strong daylight.
He sprang to his feet, but the next moment
he saw it was only Stacy who had passed
out, and was returning fully dressed, bring-
ing water from the spring to fill the kettle.
But Stacy's face was so grave that, recalling
his disturbed sleep, Demorest laughingly
inquired if he had been haunted by the
treasure. But to his surprise Stacy put
down the kettle, and, with a hurried glance
at the still sleeping Barker, said in a low
voice :
THREE PARTNERS. 45
" I want you to do something for me with-
out asking why. Later I will tell you."
Demorest looked at him fixedly. " What
is it?" he said.
" The pack-mules will be here in a few
moments. Don't wait to close up or put
away anything here, but clap that gold in
the saddle-bags, and take Barker with you
and ' lite ' out for Boomville at once. I
will overtake you later."
" Is there no time to discuss this ? " asked
Demorest.
" No," said Stacy bluntly. " Call me a
crank, say I 'm in a blue funk " his
compressed lips and sharp black eyes did not
lend themselves much to that hypothesis
" only get out of this with that stuff, and
take Barker with you ! I 'm not responsi-
ble for myself while it 's here."
Demorest knew Stacy to be combative, but
practical. If he had not been assured of
his partner's last night slumbers he might
have thought he knew of the attempt. Or
if he had discovered the turned-up ground
in the rear of the cabin his curiosity would
have demanded an explanation. Demorest
paused only for a moment, and said, " Very
well, I will go."
46 THREE PARTNERS.
" Good ! I '11 rouse out Barker, but not
a word to him except that he must go."
The rousing out of Barker consisted of
Stacy's lifting that young gentleman bodily
from his bunk and standing him upright in
the open doorway. But Barker was accus-
tomed to this Spartan process, and after a
moment's balancing with closed lids like an
unwrapped mummy, he sat down in the
doorway and began to dress. He at first
demurred to their departure except all to-
gether it was so unfraternal ; but eventu-
ally he allowed himself to be persuaded out
of it and into his clothes. For Barker had
also had his visions in the night, one of
which was that they should build a beautiful
villa on the site of the old cabin and sol-
emnly agree to come every year and pass a
week in it together. " I thought at first,"
he said, sliding along the floor in search of
different articles of his dress, or stopping
gravely to catch them as they were thrown
to him by his partners, " that we 'd have it
at Boomville, as being handier to get there ;
but I 've concluded we 'd better have it
here, a little higher up the hill, where it
could be seen over the whole Black Spur
THESE PAETNERS. 47
Range. When we were n't here we could
use it as a Hut of Refuge for broken-down
or washed-out miners or weary travelers,
like those hospices in the Alps, you know,
and have somebody to keep it for us. You
see I 've thought even of that, and Van Loo
is the very man to take charge of it for us.
You see he 's got such good manners and
speaks two languages. Lord ! if a German
or Frenchman came along, poor and dis-
tressed, Van Loo would just chip in his own
language. See ? You Ve got to think of
all these details, you see, boys. And we
might call it * The Rest of the Three Part-
ners,' or ' Three Partners' Rest.' '
" And you might begin by giving us one,"
said Stacy. " Dry up and drink your cof-
fee."
" I '11 draw out the plans. I 've got it
all in my head," continued the enthusiastic
Barker, unheeding the interruption. " I '11
just run out and take a look at the site, it 's
only right back of the cabin." But here
Stacy caught him by his dangling belt as he
was flying out of the door with one boot on,
and thrust him down in a chair with a tin
cup of coffee in his hand.
48 THREE PARTNERS.
" Keep the plans in your head, Barker
boy," said Demorest, " for here are the pack
mules and packer." This was quite enough
to divert the impressionable young man, who
speedily finished his dressing, as a mule
bearing a large pack-saddle and two enor-
mous saddle-bags or pouches drove up be-
fore the door, led by a muleteer on a small
horse. The transfer of the treasure to the
saddle-bags was quickly made by their united
efforts, as the first rays of the sun were
beginning to paint the hillside. Shading
his keen eyes with his hand, Stacy stood in
the doorway and handed Demorest the two
rifles. Demorest hesitated. " Had n't you
better keep one ? " he said, looking in his
partner's eyes with his first challenge of cu-
riosity. The sun seemed to put a humorous
twinkle into Stacy's glance as he returned,
"Not much! And you'd better take my
revolver with you, too. I 'm feeling a little
better now," he said, looking at the saddle-
bags, " but I 'm not fit to be trusted yet with
carnal weapons. When the other mule comes
and is packed I'll overtake you on the
horse."
A little more satisfied, although still won-
THREE PARTNERS. 49
dering and perplexed, Demorest shouldered
one rifle, and with Barker, who was carrying
the other, followed the muleteer and his equi-
page down the trail. For a while he was a
little ashamed of his part in this unusual
spectacle of two armed men convoying a laden
mule in broad daylight, but, luckily, it was
too early for the Bar miners to be going to
work, and as the tuunelmen were now at
breakfast the trail was free of wayfarers.
At the point where it crossed the main road
Demorest, however, saw Steptoe and Whis-
key Dick emerge from the thicket, appar-
ently in earnest conversation. Demorest felt
his repugnance and half -restrained suspicions
suddenly return. Yet he did not wish to
betray them before Barker, nor was he will-
ing, in case of an emergency, to allow the
young man to be entirely unprepared. Call-
ing him to follow, he ran quickly ahead of
the laden mule, and was relieved to find that,
looking back, his companion had brought his
rifle to a " ready," through some instinctive
feeling of defense. As Steptoe and Whis-
key Dick, a moment later discovering them,
were evidently surprised, there seemed, how-
ever, to be no reason for fearing an out"
50 THREE PARTNERS.
break. Suddenly, at a whisper from Step
toe, he and Whiskey Dick both threw up
their hands, and stood still on the trail a few
yards from them in a burlesque of the usual
recognized attitude of helplessness, while a
hoarse laugh broke from Steptoe.
" D d if we did n't think you were road-
agents ! But we see you 're only guarding
your treasure. Rather fancy style for Heavy
Tree Hill, ain't it ? Things must be gettin'
rough up thar to hev to take out your guns
like that ! "
Demorest had looked keenly at the four
hands thus exhibited, and was more con-
cerned that they bore no trace of wounds or
mutilation than at the insult of the speech,
particularly as he had a distinct impression
that the action was intended to show him
the futility of his suspicions.
" I am glad to see that if you have n't any
arms in your hands you 're not incapable of
handling them," said Demorest coolly, as he
passed by them and again fell into the rear
of the muleteer.
But Barker had thought the incident very
funny, and laughed effusively at Whiskey
Dick. " I did n't know that Steptoe was up
THREE PARTNERS. 51
to that kind of fun," he said, " and I sup-
pose we did look rather rough with these
guns as we ran on ahead of the mule. But
then you know that when you called to me
I really thought you were in for a shindy.
All the same, "Whiskey Dick did that ' hands
up ' to perfection : how he managed it I
don't know, but his knees seemed to knock
together as if he was in a real funk."
Demorest had thought so too, but he made
no reply. How far that miserable drunkard
was a forced or willing accomplice of the
events of last night was part of a question
that had become more and more repugnant to
him as he was leaving the scene of it forever.
It had come upon him, desecrating the dream
he had dreamt that last night and turning
its hopeful climax to bitterness. Small won-
der that Barker, walking by his side, had
his quick sympathies aroused, and as he saw
that shadow, which they were all familiar
with, but had never sought to penetrate, fall
upon his companion's handsome face, even
his youthful spirits yielded to it. They were
both relieved when the clatter of hoofs be-
hind them, as they reached the valley, an-
nounced the approach of Stacy. " I started
52 THREE PARTNERS.
with the second mule and the last load soon
after you left," he explained, " and have just
passed them. I thought it better to join
you and let the other load follow. Nobody
will interfere with that"
" Then you are satisfied ? " said Demo-
rest, regarding him steadfastly.
You bet ! Look ! "
He turned in his saddle and pointed to
the crest of the hill they had just descended.
Above the pines circling the lower slope
above the bare ledges of rock and outcrop,
a column of thick black smoke was rising
straight as a spire in the windless air.
" That 's the old shanty passing away,"
said Stacy complacently. " I reckon there
won't be much left of it before we get to
Boomville."
Demorest and Barker stared. "You
fired it ? " said Barker, trembling with ex-
citement.
" Yes," said Stacy. " I could n't bear to
leave the old rookery for coyotes and wild-
cats to gather in, so I touched her off before
I left."
" But " said Barker.
"But," repeated Stacy composedly.
THREE PARTNERS. 53
" Hallo ! what 's the matter with that new
plan of ' The Rest ' that you 're going to
build, eh ? You don't want them both."
" And you did this rather than leave the
dear old cabin to strangers ? " said Barker,
with kindling eyes. " Stacy, I did n't think
you had that poetry in you ! "
" There 's heaps in me, Barker boy, that
you don't know, and I don't exactly sabe
myself."
" Only," continued the young fellow
eagerly, " we ought to have all been there !
We ought to have made a solemn rite of it,
you know, a kind of sacrifice. We ought
to have poured a kind of libation on the
ground ! "
" I did sprinkle a little kerosene over it,
I think," returned Stacy, " just to help
things along. But if you want to see her
flaming, Barker, you just run back to that
last corner on the road beyond the big red
wood. That 's the spot for a view."
As Barker always devoted to a specta-
cle swiftly disappeared the two men faced
each other. " Well, what does it all mean ? "
said Demorest gravely.
" It means, old man," said Stacy sud-
64 THREE PARTNERS.
flenly, " that if we had n't had nigger luck,
the same blind luck that sent us that strike,
you and I and that Barker over there would
have been swirling in that smoke up to the
sky about two hours ago ! " He stopped and
added in a lower, but earnest voice, " Look
here, Phil! When I went out to fetch
water this morning I smelt something queer.
I went round to the back of the cabin and
found a hole dug under the floor, and piled
against the corner wall a lot of brush-
wood and a can of kerosene. Some of the
kerosene had been already poured on the
brush. Everything was ready to light, and
only my coming out an hour earlier had
frightened the devils away. The idea was
to set the place on fire, suffocate us in the
smoke of the kerosene poured into the hole,
and then to rush in and grab the treasure.
It was a systematic plan ! "
" No I " said Demorest quietly.
" No ? " repeated Stacy. I told you
1 saw the whole thing and took away the
kerosene, which I hid, and after you had
gone used it to fire the cabin with, to see if
the ones I suspected would gather to watch
their work."
THREE PARTNERS. 55
" It was no part of their first plan," said
Demorest, " which was only robbery. Lis-
ten ! " He hurriedly recounted his experi-
ence of the preceding night to the astonished
Stacy. " No, the fire was an afterthought
and revenge," he added sternly.
" But you say you cut the robber in the
hand ; there would be no difficulty in iden-
tifying him by that."
"I wounded only a hand" said Demo-
rest. " But there was a head in that at-
tempt that I never saw." He then revealed
his own half-suspicions, but how they were
apparently refuted by the bravado of Step-
toe and Whiskey Dick.
" Then that was the reason they did n't
gather at the fire," said Stacy quickly.
" Ah ! " said Demorest, " then you too
suspected them ? "
Stacy hesitated, and then said abruptly,
" Yes."
Demorest was silent for a moment.
" Why did n't you tell me this this morn-
ing ? " he said gently.
Stacy pointed to the distant Barker. " I
did n't want you to tell him. I thought it
better for one partner to keep a secret from
56 TREES PARTNERS.
two than for the two to keep it from one.
Why did n't you tell me of your experience
last night ? "
" I am afraid it was for the same reason,"
said Demorest, with a faint smile. " And it
sometimes seems to me, Jim, that we ought
to imitate Barker's frankness. In our dread
of tainting him with our own knowledge of
evil we are sending him out into the world
very poorly equipped, for all his three hun-
dred thousand dollars."
" I reckon you 're right," said Stacy
briefly, extending his hand. " Shake on
that ! "
The two men grasped each other's hands.
" And he 's no fool, either," continued
Demorest. " When we met Steptoe on the
road, without a word from me, he closed up
alongside, with 'his hand on the lock of his
rifle. And I had n't the heart to praise him
or laugh it off."
Nevertheless they were both silent as the
object of their criticism bounded down the
trail towards them. He had seen the fune-
ral pyre. It was awfully sad, it was awfully
lovely, but there was something grand in itJ
Who could have thought Stacy could be so
THESE PARTNERS. 57
poetic ? But he wanted to tell them some-
thing else that was mighty pretty.
" What was it ? " said Demorest.
" Well," said Barker, " don't laugh ! But
you know that Jack Hamlin ? Well, boys,
he 's been hovering around us on his mus-
tang, keeping us and that pack-mule in sight
ever since we left. Sometimes he 's on a
side trail off to the right, sometimes off to
the left, but always at the same distance. I
did n't like to tell you, boys, for I thought
you 'd laugh at me ; but I think, you know,
he 's taken a sort of shine to us since he
dropped in last night. And I fancy, you
see, he 's sort of hanging round to see that
we get along all right. I 'd have pointed
him out before only I reckoned you and
Stacy would say he was -making up to us for
our money."
" And we 'd have been wrong, Barker
boy," said Stacy, with a heartiness that sur-
prised Demorest, " for I reckon your in-
stinct 's the right one."
" There he is now," said the gratified
Barker, " just abreast of us on the cut-off.
He started just after we did, and he 's got
a horse that could have brought him into
58 THREE PARTNERS.
Boomville hours ago. It 's just his kind-
ness."
He pointed to a distant fringe of buckeye
from which Jack Hainlin had just emerged.
Although evidently holding in a powerful
mustang, nothing could be more unconscious
and utterly indifferent than his attitude.
He did not seem to know of the proximity
of any other traveler, and to care less. His
handsome head was slightly thrown back, as
if he was caroling after his usual fashion,
but the distance was too great to make his
melody audible to them, or to allow Bar-
ker's shout of invitation to reach him. Sud-
denly he lowered his tightened rein, the
mustang sprang forward, and with a flash of
silver spurs and bridle fripperies he had dis-
appeared. But as the trail he was pursuing
crossed theirs a mile beyond, it seemed quite
possible that they should again meet him.
They were now fairly into the Boomville
valley, and were entering a narrow arroyo
bordered with dusky willows which effectu-
ally excluded the view on either side. It
was the bed of a mountain torrent that in
winter descended the hillside over the trail
by which they had just come, but was now
THREE PARTNERS. 59
Bunk into the thirsty plain between banhs
that varied from two to five feet in height.
The muleteer had advanced into the narrow
channel when he suddenly cast a hurried
glance behind him, uttered a " Madre de
Dios ! " and backed his mule and his pre-
cious freight against the bank. The sound
of hoofs on the trail in their rear had caught
his quicker ear, and as the three partners
turned they beheld three horsemen thunder*
ing down the hill towards them. They were
apparently Mexican vaqueros of the usual
common swarthy type, their faces made still
darker by the black silk handkerchief tied
round their heads under their stiff sombreros.
Either they were unable or unwilling to re-
strain their horses in their headlong speed,
and a collision in that narrow passage was
imminent, but suddenly, before reaching its
entrance, they diverged with a volley of
oaths, and dashing along the left bank of
the arroyo, disappeared in the intervening
willows. Divided between relief at their
escape and indignation at what seemed to be
a drunken, feast-day freak of these roystering
vaqueros, the little party re-formed, when a
cry from Barker arrested them. He had
60 THREE PARTNERS.
just perceived a horseman motionless in the
arroyo who, although unnoticed by them,
had evidently been seen by the Mexicans.
He had apparently leaped into it from the
bank, and had halted as if to witness this
singular incident. As the clatter of the
vaqueros' hoofs died away he lightly leaped
the bank again and disappeared. But in
that single glimpse of him they recognized
Jack Hamlin. When they reached the spot
where he had halted, they could see that he
must have approached it from the trail
where they had previously seen him, but
which they now found crossed it at right
angles. Barker was right. He had really
kept them at easy distance the whole length
of the journey.
But they were now reaching its end.
When they issued at last from the arroyo
they came upon the outskirts of Boomville
and the great stage-road. Indeed, the six
horses of the Pioneer coach were just pant-
ing along the last half mile of the steep up-
grade as they approached. They halted
mechanically as the heavy vehicle swayed
and creaked by them. In their ordinary
working dress, sunburnt with exposure, cov-
THREE PARTNERS. 61
ered with dust, and carrying their rifles still
in their hands, they, perhaps, presented a
sufficiently characteristic appearance to draw
a few faces some of them pretty and in-
telligent to the windows of the coach as it
passed. The sensitive Barker was quickest
to feel that resentment with which the
Pioneer usually met the wide-eyed criticism
of the Eastern tourist or " greenhorn," and
reddened under the bold scrutiny of a pair
of black inquisitive eyes behind an e^<>glass.
That annoyance was communicated, though
in a lesser degree, even to the bearded De-
morest and Stacy. It was an unexpected
contact with that great world in which they
were so soon to enter. They felt ashamed
of their appearance, and yet ashamed of that
feeling. They felt a secret satisfaction when
Barker said, " They 'd open their eyes wider
if they knew what was in that pack-saddle,"
and yet they corrected him for what they
were pleased to call his " snobbishness."
They hurried a little faster as the road be-
came more frequented, as if eager to shorten
their distance to clean clothes and civiliza-
tion.
Only Demorest began to linger hi the
62 THEEE PARTNERS.
rear. This contact with the stagecoach had
again brought him face to face with his
buried past. He felt his old dream revive,
and occasionally turned to look back upon
the dark outlines of Black Spur, under
whose shadow it had returned so often, and
wondered if he had left it there forever,
and it were now slowly exhaling with the
thinned and dying smoke of their burning
cabin.
His companions, knowing his silent moods,
had preceded him at some distance, when he
heard the soft sound of ambling hoofs on
the thick dust, and suddenly the light touch
of Jack Hamlin's gauntlet on his shoulder.
The mustang Jack bestrode was reeking
with grime and sweat, but Jack himself was
as immaculate and fresh as ever. With a
delightful affectation of embarrassment and
timidity he began flicking the side buttons
of his velvet vaquero trousers with the thong
of his riata. " I reckoned to sling a word
along with you before you went," he said,
looking down, " but I 'm so shy that I
could n't do it in company. So I thought
I 'd get it off on you while you were alone."
" We 've seen you once or twice before,
THREE PAETNERS. 63
this morning," said Demorest pleasantly,
" and we were sorry you did n't join us."
" I reckon I might have," said Jack gayly,
" if my horse had only made up his mind
whether ne was a bird or a squirrel, and
had n't been so various and promiscuous
about whether he wanted to climb a tree or
fly. He 's not a bad horse tor a Mexican
plug, only when he thinks there is any devil-
ment around he wants to wade in and take
a hand. However, i reckoned to see the
last of you and your pile into Booinville.
And I did. When I meet three fellows
like you that are clean white all through I
sort of cotton to 'em, even if / 'w a little of
a brunette myself. And I 've got something
to give you."
He took from a fold of his scarlet sash a
small parcel neatly folded in white paper as
fresh and spotless as himself. Holding it in
his fingers, he went on : "I happened to be
at Heavy Tree Hill early this morning be-
fore sun-up. In the darkness I struck your
cabin, and I reckon I struck somebody
else I At first I thought it was one of you
chaps down on your knees praying at the
rear of the cabin, but the way the fellow lit
64 THREE PARTNERS.
out when he smelt me coming made me think
it was n't entirely fasting and prayer. How-
ever, I went to the rear of the cabin, and
then I reckoned some kind friend had been
bringing you kindlings and firewood for
your early breakfast. But that did n't sat-
isfy me, so I knelt down as he had knelt,
and then I saw well, Mr. Demorest, I
reckon I saw just what you have seen ! But
even then I was n't quite satisfied, for that
man had been grubbing round as if search-
ing for something. So I searched too and
I found it. I've got it here. I 'm going to
give it to you, for it may some day come in
handy, and you won't find anything like it
among the folks where you 're going. It 's
something unique, as those fine-art-collect-
ing sharps in 'Frisco say something quite
matchless, unless you try to match it one
day yourself ! Don't open the paper until I
run on and say ' So long ' to your partners.
Good-by."
He grasped Demorest's hand and then
dropped the little packet into his palm, and
ambled away towards Stacy and Barker.
Holding the packet in his hand with an
amused yet puzzled smile, Demorest watched
THREE PARTNERS. 65
the gambler give Stacy's hand a hearty fare-
well shake and a supplementary slap on the
back to the delighted Barker, and then van-
ish in a flash of red sash and silver buttons.
At which Demorest, walking slowly towards
his partners, opened the packet, and stood
suddenly still. It contained the dried and
bloodless second finger of a human hand cut
off at the first joint I
For an instant he held it at arm's length,
as if about to cast it away. Then he grimly
replaced it in the paper, put it carefully in
his pocket, and silently walked after his com-
panions.
CHAPTER 1.
A STRONG southwester was beating against
the windows and doors of Stacy's Bank in
San Francisco, and spreading a film of rain
between the regular splendors of its mahog-
any counters and sprucely dressed clerks
and the usual passing pedestrian. For
Stacy's new banking-house had long since
received the epithet of " palatial " from an
enthusiastic local press fresh from the
" opening " luncheon in its richly decorated
directors' rooms, and it was said that once
a homely would - be depositor from One
Horse Gulch was so cowed by its magnifi-
cence that his heart failed him at the last
moment, and mumbling an apology to the
elegant receiving teller, fled with his greasy
chamois pouch of gold-dust to deposit his
treasure in the dingy Mint around the cor-
ner. Perhaps there was something of this
feeling, mingled with a certain simple-minded
fascination, in the hesitation of a stranger
THESE PARTNERS. 67
of a higher class who entered the bank that
rainy morning and finally tendered his card
to the important negro messenger.
The card preceded him through noiselessly
swinging doors and across heavily carpeted
passages until it reached the inner core of
Mr. James Stacy's private offices, and was
respectfully laid before him. He was not
alone. At his side, in an attitude of polite
and studied expectancy, stood a correct-look-
ing young man, for whom Mr. Stacy was
evidently writing a memorandum. The
stranger glanced furtively at the card with
a curiosity hardly in keeping with his sug-
gested good breeding ; but Stacy did not
look at it until he had finished his memo-
randum.
" There," he said, with business decision,
" you can tell your people that if we carry
their new debentures over our limit we will
expect a larger margin. Ditches are not
what they were three years ago when miners
were willing to waste their money over your
rates. They don't gamble that way any
more, and your company ought to know it,
and not gamble themselves over that pro-
spect." He handed the paper to the stranger^
68 THEEE PARTNERS.
who bowed over it with studied politeness,
and backed towards the door. Stacy took
up the waiting card, read it, said to the
messenger, " Show him in," and in the same
breath turned to his guest: "I say, Van
Loo, it 's George Barker ! You know him."
" Yes," said Van Loo, with a polite hesi-
tation as he halted at the door. " He was
I think er in your employ at Heavy
Tree Hill."
" Nonsense ! He was my partner. And
you must have known him since at Boom-
ville. Come ! He got forty shares of Ditch
stock through you at 110, which were
worth about 80 ! Somebody must have
made money enough by it to remember
him."
" I was only speaking of him socially,"
said Van Loo, with a deprecating smile.
" You know he married a young woman
the hotel-keeper's daughter, who used to
wait at the table and after my mother
and sister came out to keep house for me at
Boomville it was quite impossible for me to
see much of him, for he seldom went out
without his wife, you know."
" Yes," said Stacy dryly, " I think you
THREE PARTNERS. 69
did n't like his marriage. But I 'm glad
your disinclination to see him is n't on ac-
count of that deal in stocks."
" Oh no," said Van Loo. " Good-by."
But, unfortunately, in the next passage
he came upon Barker, who with a cry of
unfeigned pleasure, none the less sincere
that he was feeling a little alien in these
impressive surroundings, recognized him.
Nothing could exceed Van Loo's protest of
delight at the meeting ; nothing his equal
desolation at the fact that he was hastening
to another engagement. " But your old
partner," he added, with a smile, " is wait-
ing for you ; he has just received your card,
and I should be only keeping you from him.
So glad to see you ; you 're looking so well.
Good-by! Good-by!"
Reassured, Barker no longer hesitated,
but dashed with his old impetuousness into
his former partner's room. Stacy, already
deeply absorbed in other business, was sitting
with his back towards him, and Barker's
arms were actually encircling his neck
before the astonished and half-angry man
looked up. But when his eyes met the
laughing gray ones of Barker above him he
70 THREE PAETNEES.
gently disengaged himself with a quick re-
turn of the caress, rose, shut the door of an
inner office, and returning pushed Barker
into an armchair hi quite the old suppres-
sive fashion of former days. Yes ; it was
the same Stacy that Barker looked at, albeit
his brown beard was now closely cropped
around his determined mouth and jaw in a
kind of grave decorum, and his energetic
limbs already attuned to the rigor of clothes
of fashionable cut and still more rigorous
sombreness of color.
" Barker boy," he began, with the familiar
twinkle in his keen eyes which the younger
partner remembered, " I don't encourage
stag dancing among my young men during
bank hours, and you '11 please to remember
that we are not on Heavy Tree Hill "
" Where," broke in Barker enthusiasti-
cally, " we were only overlooked by the
Black Spur Range and the Sierran snow-
line ; where the nearest voice that came to
you was quarter of a mile away as the crow
flies and nearly a mile by the trail."
" And was generally an oath ! " said
Stacy. " But you 're in San Francisco now.
"Where are you stopping ? " He took up a
THREE PARTNERS. 71
pencil and held it over a memorandum pad
awaitingly.
" At the Brook House. It 's "
" Hold on ! * Brook House,' " Stacy re-
peated as he jotted it down. " And for how
long?"
" Oh, a day or two. You see, Kitty "
Stacy checked him with a movement of
his pencil in the air, and then wrote down,
" 4 Day or two.' Wife with you? "
" Yes ; and oh, Stacy, our boy ! Ah ! "
he went on, with a laugh, knocking aside
the remonstrating pencil, " you must listen !
He's just the sweetest, knowingest little
chap living. Do you know what we 're go-
ing to christen him ? Well, he '11 be Stacy
Demorest Barker. Good names, aren't
they? And then it perpetuates the dear
old friendship."
Stacy picked up the pencil again, wrote
"Wife and child S. D. B., " and leaned
back in his chair. " Now, Barker," he said
briefly, " I 'm coming to dine with you to-
night at 7.30 sharp. Then we'll talk
Heavy Tree Hill, wife, baby, and S. D. B.
But here I 'm all for business. Have you
any with me ? "
72 THREE PAETNEES.
Barker, who was easily amused, had ex-
tracted a certain entertainment out of Stacy's
memorandum, but he straightened himself
with a look of eager confidence and said,
" Certainly ; that 's just what it is busi-
ness. Lord ! Stacy, I 'm all business now.
I 'm in everything. And I bank with you,
though perhaps you don't know it ; it 's in
your Branch at Marysville. I did n't want
to say anything about it to you before. But
Lord! you don't suppose that I'd bank
anywhere else while you are in the business
checks, dividends, and all that ; but in
this matter I felt you knew, old chap. I
did n't want to talk to a banker nor to a
bank, but to Jim Stacy, my old partner."
" Barker," said Stacy curtly, " how much
money are you short of ? "
At this direct question Barker's always
quick color rose, but, with an equally quick
smile, he said, " I don't know yet that I 'm
short at all."
"But /do!"
" Look here, Jim : why, I 'm just over-
loaded with shares and stocks," said Barker,
smiling.
" Not one of which you could realize on
THREE PARTNERS. 73
adthout sacrifice. Barker, three years ago
you had three hundred thousand dollars put
to your account at San Francisco."
" Yes," said Barker, with a quiet reminis-
cent laugh. " I remember I wanted to draw
it out in one check to see how it would look."
"And you've drawn out all in three
years, and it looks d d bad."
" How did you know it ? " asked Barker,
his face beaming only with admiration of
his companion's omniscience.
" How did I know it ? " retorted Stacy.
" I know yow, and I know the kind of peo-
ple who have unloaded to you."
" Come, Stacy," said Barker, " I 've only
invested in shares and stocks like every-
body else, and then only on the best advice
1 could get: iike Van Loo's, for instance,
that man who was here just now, the new
manager of the Empire Ditch Company;
and Carter's, my own Kitty's father. And
when I was offered fifty thousand Wide
West Extensions, and was hesitating over
it, he told me you were in it too and that
was enough for me to buy it."
" Yes, but we did n't go into it at his
figures."
74 THREE PAETNEES.
" No," said Barker, with an eager smile,
"but you sold at his figures, for I knew
that when I found that you, my old part-
ner, was in it ; don't you see, I preferred to
buy it through your bank, and did at 110.
Of course, you would n't have sold it at
that figure if it was n't worth it then, and
neither I nor you are to blame if it dropped
the next week to 60, don't you see ? "
Stacy's eyes hardened for a moment as
he looked keenly into his former partner's
bright gray ones, but there was no trace
of irony in Barker's. On the contrary, a
slight shade of sadness came over them.
" No," he said reflectively, " I don't think
I 've ever been foolish or followed out my
own ideas, except once, and that was extra-
vagant, I admit. That was my idea of build-
ing a kind of refuge, you know, on the site
of our old cabin, where poor miners and
played-out prospectors waiting for a strike
could stay without paying anything. Well,
I sunk twenty thousand dollars in that, and
might have lost more, only Carter Kitty's
father persuaded me he 's an awful
clever old fellow into turning it into a
kind of branch hotel of Boomville, while
THREE PARTNERS. 75
using it as a hotel to take poor chaps who
could n't pay, at half prices, or quarter
prices, privately, don't you see, so as to
spare their pride, awfully pretty, was n't
it? and make the hotel profit by it."
" Well ? " said Stacy as Barker paused.
" They did n't come," said Barker.
" But," he added eagerly, " it shows that
things were better than I had imagined.
Only the others did not come, either."
"And you lost your twenty thousand
dollars," said Stacy curtly.
" Fifty thousand," said Barker, " for of
course it had to be a larger hotel than the
other. And I think that Carter would n't
have gone into it except to save me from
losing money."
" And yet made you lose fifty thousand
instead of twenty. For I don't suppose he
advanced anything."
" He gave his time and experience," said
Barker simply.
" I don't think it worth thirty thousand
dollars," said Stacy dryly. " But all this
does n't tell me what your business is with
me to-day."
" No," said Barker, brightening up, " but
T6 THREE PARTNERS.
it is business, you know. Something in the
old style as between partner and partner
and that 's why I came to you, and not
to the ' banker.' And it all comes out of
something that Demorest once told us ; so
you see it 's all us three again ! Well, you
know, of course, that the Excelsior Ditch
Company have abandoned the Bar and
Heavy Tree Hill. It did n't pay."
" Yes ; nor does the company pay any
dividends now. You ought to know, with
fifty thousand of their stock on your hands."
Barker laughed. " But listen. I found
that I could buy up their whole plant and
all the ditching along the Black Spur Range
for ten thousand dollars."
" And Great Scott ! you don't think of
taking up their business ? " said Stacy,
aghast.
Barker laughed more heartily. " No.
Not their business. But I remember that
once Demorest told us, in the dear old days,
that it cost nearly as much to make a water
ditch as a railroad, in the way of surveying
and engineering and levels, you know. And
here 's the plant for a railroad. Don't you
see ? "
THREE PARTNERS. 77
" But a railroad from Black Spur to
Heavy Tree Hill what 's the good of
that?"
" Why, Black Spur will be in the line of
the new Divide Railroad they 're trying to
get a bill for in the legislature."
"An infamous piece of wildcat jobbing
that will never pass," said Stacy decisively.
" They said because it was that, it would
pass," said Barker simply. " They say that
Watson's Bank is in it, and is bound to get
it through. And as that is a rival bank of
yours, don't you see, I thought that if we
could get something real good or valuable
out of it, something that would do the
Black Spur good, it would be all right."
"And was your business to consult me
about it ? " said Stacy bluntly.
" No," said Barker, " it 's too late to con-
sult you now, though I wish I had. I 've
given my word to take it, and I can't back
out. But I have n't the ten thousand dol-
lars, and I came to you."
Stacy slowly settled himself back in his
chair, and put both hands in his pockets.
" Not a cent, Barker, not a cent."
" I 'm not asking it of the bank" said
78 THESE PARTNERS.
Barker, with a smile, " for I could have
gone to the bank for it. But as this was
something between us, I am asking you,
Stacy, as my old partner."
" And I am answering you, Barker, as
your old partner, but also as the partner
of a hundred other men, who have even a
greater right to ask me. And my answer
is, not a cent ! "
Barker looked at him with a pale, aston-
ished face and slightly parted lips. Stacy
rose, thrust his hands deeper in his pockets,
and standing before him went on :
" Now look here ! It 's time you should
understand me and yourself. Three years
ago, when our partnership was dissolved
by accident, or mutual consent, we will say,
we started afresh, each on our own hook.
Through foolishness and bad advice you
have in those three years hopelessly involved
yourself as you never would have done had
we been partners, and yet in your difficulty
you ask me and my new partners to help
you out of a difficulty in which they have
no concern."
" Your new partners ? " stammered
Barker.
THREE PAETNEES. 79
* 4 Yes, my new partners ; for every man
who has a share, or a deposit, or an interest,
or a dollar in this bank is my partner
even you, with your securities at the Branch,
are one ; and you may say that in this I am
protecting you against yourself."
" But you have money you have private
means."
" None to speculate with as you wish me
to on account of my position ; none to
give away foolishly as you expect me to
on account of precedent and example. I
am a soulless machine taking care of capital
intrusted to me and my brains, but de-
cidedly not to my heart nor my sentiment.
So my answer is, not a cent ! "
Barker's face had changed ; his color had
come back, but with an older expression.
Presently, however, his beaming smile re-
turned, with the additional suggestion of an
affectionate toleration which puzzled Stacy.
"I believe you're right, old chap," he
said, extending his hand to the banker, " and
I wish I had talked to you before. But it 's
too late now, and I 've given my word."
" Your word! " said Stacy. " Have you
no written agreement ? "
80 THREE PARTNERS.
" No. My word was accepted." He
blushed slightly as if conscious of a great
weakness.
" But that is n't legal nor business. And
you couldn't even hold the Ditch Company
to it if they chose to back out."
" But I don't think they will," said Barker
simply. u And you see my word was n't
given entirely to them. I bought the thing
through my wife's cousin, Henry Spring, a
broker, and he makes something by it, from
the company, on commission. And I can't
go back on Mm. What did you say ? "
Stacy had only groaned through his set
teeth. " Nothing," he said briefly, " except
that I 'm coming, as I said before, to dine
with you to-night ; but no more business.
I 've enough of that with others, and there
are some waiting for me in the outer office
now."
Barker rose at once, but with the same
affectionate smile and tender gravity of coun-
tenance, and laid his hand caressingly on
Stacy's shoulder. " It 's like you to give up
so much of your time to me and my foolish-
ness and be so frank with me. And I know
it 's mighty rough on you to have to be a
THREE PARTNERS. 81
mere machine instead of Jim Stacy. Don't
you bother about me. I '11 sell some of my
Wide West Extension and pull the thing
through myself. It 's all right, but I 'm sorry
for you, old chap." He glanced around the
room at the walls and rich paneling, and
added, " I suppose that 's what you have to
pay for all this sort of thing ? "
Before Stacy could reply, a waiting visi-
tor was announced for the second time, and
Barker, with another hand-shake and a reas-
suring smile to his old partner, passed into
the hall, as if the onus of any infelicity in
the interview was upon himself alone. But
Stacy did not seem to be in a particularly
accessible mood to the new caller, who in
his turn appeared to be slightly irritated by
having been kept waiting over some irksome
business. " You don't seem to follow me," he
said to Stacy after reciting his business per-
plexity. " Can't you suggest something ? "
" Well, why don't you get hold of one of
your board of directors ? " said Stacy ab-
stractedly. " There 's Captain Drummond ;
you and he are old friends. You were com-
rades in the Mexican War, were n't you ? "
That be d d ! " said his visitor bitterly.
82 THREE PARTNERS.
" All his interests are the other way, and hi
a trade of this kind, you know, Stacy, that
a man would sacrifice his own brother. Do
you suppose that he 'd let up on a sure thing
that he 's got just because he and I fought
side by side at Cerro Gordo ? Come 1 what
are you giving us ? You 're the last man I
ever expected to hear that kind of flapdoodle
from. If it's because your bank has got
some other interest and you can't advise me,
why don't you say so ? " Nevertheless, hi
spite of Stacy's abrupt disclaimer, he left
a few minutes later, half convinced that
Stacy's lukewarmness was due to some ad-
verse influence. Other callers were almost
as quickly disposed of, and at the end of an
hour Stacy found himself again alone.
But not apparently in a very satisfied
mood. After a few moments of purely me-
chanical memoranda-making, he rose abruptly
and opened a small drawer in a cabinet, from
which he took a letter still in its envelope.
It bore a foreign postmark. Glancing over
it hastily, his eyes at last became fixed on a
concluding paragraph. " I hope," wrote his
correspondent, "that even in the rush of
your big business you will sometimes look
THREE PARTNERS. 83
after Barker. Not that I think the dear old
chap will ever go wrong indeed, I often
wish I was as certain of myself as of him
and his insight ; but I am afraid we were
more inclined to be merely amused and tol-
erant of his wonderful trust and simplicity
than to really understand it for his own good
and ours. I know you did not like his mar-
riage, and were inclined to believe he was the
victim of a rather unscrupulous father and a
foolish, unequal girl; but are you satisfied
that he would have been the happier without
it, or lived his perfect life under other and
what you may think wiser conditions? If
he wrote the poetry that he lives everybody
would think him wonderful ; for being what
he is we never give him sufficient credit."
Stacy smiled grimly, and penciled on his
memorandum, " He wants it to the amount
of ten thousand dollars." " Anyhow," con-
tinued the writer, " look after him, Jim, for
his sake, your sake, and the sake of PHIL
DEMOREST."
Stacy put the letter back in its envelope,
and tossing it grimly aside went on with his
calculations. Presently he stopped, restored
the letter to his cabinet, and rang a bell on
84 THREE PARTNERS.
his table. " Send Mr. North here," he said
to the negro messenger. In a few moments
his chief book-keeper appeared in the door-
way.
"Turn to the Branch ledger and bring
me a statement of Mr. George Barker's
account."
" He was here a moment ago," said
North, essaying a confidential look towards
his chief.
" I know it," said Stacy coolly, without
looking up.
" He 's been running a good deal on wild-
cat lately," suggested North.
"I asked for his account, and not your
opinion of it," said Stacy shortly.
The subordinate withdrew somewhat
abashed but still curious, and returned pre-
sently with a ledger which he laid before his
chief. Stacy ran his eyes over the list of
Barker's securities ; it seemed to him that
all the wildest schemes of the past year
stared him in the face. His finger, how-
ever, stopped on the Wide West Extension.
" Mr. Barker will be wanting to sell some
of this stock. What is it quoted at now ? "
"Sixty."
THESE PARTNERS. 85
"But I would prefer that Mr. Barker
should not offer in the open market at pre-
sent. Give him seventy for it private
sale ; that will be ten thousand dollars paid
to his credit. Advise the Branch of this at
once, and to keep the transaction quiet."
"Yes, sir," responded the clerk as he
moved towards the door. But he hesitated,
and with another essay at confidence said
insinuatingly, " I always thought, sir, that
Wide West would recover."
Stacy, perhaps not displeased to find what
had evidently passed in his subordinate's
mind, looked at him and said dryly, " Then I
would advise you also to keep that opinion
to yourself." But, clever as he was, he had
not anticipated the result. Mr. North,
though a trusted employee, was human. On
arriving in the outer office he beckoned to
one of the lounging brokers, and in a low
voice said, " I '11 take two shares of Wide
West, if you can get it cheap." .
The broker's face became alert and eager.
" Yes, but I say, is anything up ? "
" I 'm not here to give the business of the
bank away," retorted North severely ; " take
the order or leave it."
86 THREE PAETNEES.
The man hurried away. Having thus
vindicated his humanity by also passing the
snub he had received from Stacy to an in-
ferior, he turned away to carry out his mas-
ter's instructions, yet secure in the belief
that he had profited by his superior discern-
ment of the real reason of that master's sin-
gular conduct. But when he returned to the
private room, in hopes of further revelations,
Mr. Stacy was closeted with another finan-
cial magnate, and had apparently divested
his mind of the whole affair.
CHAPTER H.
WHEN George Barker returned to the
outer ward of the financial stronghold he
had penetrated, with its curving sweep of
counters, brass railings, and wirework screens
defended by the spruce clerks behind them, he
was again impressed with the position of the
man he had just quitted, and for a moment
hesitated, with an inclination to go back.
It was with no idea of making a further
appeal to his old comrade, but what would
have been odd in any other nature but his
he was affected by a sense that he might
have been unfair and selfish in his manner
to the man panoplied by these defenses, and
who was in a measure forced to be a part
of them. He would like to have returned
and condoled with him. The clerks, who
were heartlessly familiar with the anxious
bearing of the men who sought interviews
with their chief, both before and after, smiled
with the whispered conviction that the fresh
88 THREE PARTNERS.
and ingenuous young stranger had been
" chucked " like others until they met his
kindly, tolerant, and even superior eyes, and
were puzzled. Meanwhile Barker, who had
that sublime, natural quality of abstraction
over small impertinences which is more ex-
asperating than studied indifference, after
his brief hesitation passed out unconcernedly
through the swinging mahogany doors into
the blowy street. Here the wind and rain
revived him ; the bank and its curt refusal
were forgotten ; he walked onward with only
a smiling memory of his partner as in the
old days. He remembered how Stacy had
burned down their old cabin rather than
have it fall into sordid or unworthy hands
this Stacy who was now condemned to
sink his impulses and become a mere ma-
chine. He had never known Stacy's real
motive for that act, both Demorest and
Stacy had kept their knowledge of the at-
tempted robbery from their younger part-
ner, it always seemed to him to be a pre-
cious revelation of Stacy's inner nature.
Facing the wind and rain, he recalled how
Stacy, though never so enthusiastic about
his marriage as Demorest, had taken up Van
THREE PARTNERS. 89
Loo sharply for some foolish sneer about his
own youthfulness. He was affectionately
tolerant of even Stacy's dislike to his wife's
relations, for Stacy did not know them as he
did. Indeed, Barker, whose own father and
mother had died in his infancy, had accepted
his wife's relations with a loving trust and
confidence that was supreme, from the fact
that he had never known any other.
At last he reached his hotel. It was a
new one, the latest creation of a feverish
progress in hotel-building which had covered
five years and as many squares with large
showy erections, utterly beyond the needs of
the community, yet each superior in size and
adornment to its predecessor. It struck him
as being the one evidence of an abiding faith
in the future of the metropolis that he had
seen in nothing else. As he entered its fres-
coed hall that afternoon he was suddenly
reminded, by its challenging opulency, of
the bank he had just quitted, without know-
ing that the bank had really furnished its
capital and its original design. The gilded
bar-rooms, flashing with mirrors and cut
glass ; the saloons, with their desert expanse
of Turkey carpet and oasis of clustered
90 THREE FASTNESS.
divans and gilded tables ; the great dining-
room, with porphyry columns, and walls and
ceilings shining with allegory all these
things which had attracted his youthful won-
der without distracting his correct simplicity
of taste he now began to comprehend. It
was the bank's money " at work." In the
clatter of dishes in the dining-room he even
seemed to hear again the chinking of coin.
It was a short cut to his apartments to
pass through a smaller public sitting-room
popularly known as " Flirtation Camp,"
where eight or ten couples generally found
refuge on chairs and settees by the windows,
half concealed by heavy curtains. But the
occupants were by no means youthful spin-
sters or bachelors ; they were generally mar-
ried women, guests of the hotel, receiving
other people's husbands whose wives were
" in the States," or responsible middle-aged
leaders of the town. In the elaborate toi-
lettes of the women, as compared with the
less formal business suits of the men, there
was an odd mingling of the social attitude
with perhaps more mysterious confidences.
The idle gossip about them had never
affected Barker ; rather he had that innate
THREE PARTNERS. 91
respect for the secrets of others which is as
inseparable from simplicity as it is from high
breeding, and he scarcely glanced at the dif-
ferent couples in his progress through the
room. He did not even notice a rather
striking and handsome woman, who, sur-
rounded by two or three admirers, yet looked
up at Barker as he passed with self-conscious
lids as if seeking a return of her glance.
But he moved on abstractedly, and only
stopped when he suddenly saw the familiar
skirt of his wife at a further window, and
halted before it.
" Oh, it 's yow," said Mrs. Barker, with a
half-nervous, half-impatient laugh. " Why,
I thought you 'd certainly stay half the after-
noon with your old partner, considering that
you have n't met for three years."
There was no doubt she had thought so ;
there was equally no doubt that the con-
versation she was carrying on with her com-
panion a good-looking, portly business
man was effectually interrupted. But
Barker did not notice it. " Captain Heath,
my husband," she went on, carelessly rising
and smoothing her skirts. The captain,
who had risen too, bowed vaguely at tha
92 THREE PARTNEES.
introduction, but Barker extended his hand
frankly. " I found Stacy busy," he said in
answer to his wife, " but he is coming to
dine with us to-night."
" If you mean Jim Stacy, the banker,"
said Captain Heath, brightening into greater
ease, " he 's the busiest man in California.
I 've seen men standing in a queue outside
his door as in the old days at th post-office.
And he only gives you five minutes and no
extension. So you and he were partners
once ? " he said, looking curiously at the still
youthful Barker.
But it was Mrs. Barker who answered,
" Oh yes ! and always such good friends.
I was awfully jealous of him." Neverthe-
less, she did not respond to the affectionate
protest in Barker's eyes nor to the laugh
of Captain Heath, but glanced indifferently
around the room as if to leave further con-
versation to the two men. It was possible
that she was beginning to feel that Captain
Heath was as de trop now as her husband
had been a moment before. Standing there,
however, between them both, idly tracing a
pattern on the carpet with the toe of her
slipper, she looked prettier than she had
THESE PARTNERS. 93
ever looked as Kitty Carter. Her slight
figure was more fully developed. That arti-
ficial severity covering a natural virgin coy-
ness with which she used to wait at table in
her father's hotel at Boomville had gone,
and was replaced by a satisfied conscious-
ness of her power to please. Her glance
was freer, but not as frank as in those days.
Her dress was undoubtedly richer and more
stylish ; yet Barker's loyal heart often re-
verted fondly to the chintz gown, eoquet-
tishly frilled apron, and spotless cuffs and
collar in which she had handed him his cof-
fee with a faint color that left his own face
crimson.
Captain Heath's tact being equal to her
indifference, he had excused himself, although
he was becoming interested in this youthful
husband. But Mrs. Barker, after having
asserted her husband's distinction as the
equal friend of the millionaire, was by no
means willing that the captain should be
further interested in Barker for himself
alone, and did not urge him to stay. As he
departed she turned to her husband, and,
indicating the group he had passed the mo-
ment before, said :
94 THREE PARTNERS.
" That horrid woman has been staring at
us all the time. I don't see what you see
in her to admire."
Poor Barker's admiration had been limited
to a few words of civility in the enforced
contact of that huge caravansary and in his
quiet, youthful recognition of her striking
personality. But he was just then too pre-
occupied with his interview with Stacy to
reply, and perhaps he did not quite under-
stand his wife. It was odd how many
things he did not quite understand now
about Kitty, but that he knew must be his
fault. But Mrs. Barker apparently did not
require, after the fashion of her sex, a reply.
For the next moment, as they moved to-
wards their rooms, she said impatiently,
" Well, you don't tell what Stacy said. Did
you get the money ? "
I grieve to say that this soul of truth and
frankness lied only to his wife. Perhaps
he considered it only lying to himself, a
thing of which he was at times miserably
conscious. " It was n't necessary, dear," he
said ; " he advised me to sell my securities
in the bank; and if you only knew how
dreadfully busy he is."
THREE PARTNERS. 95
Mrs. Barker curled her pretty lip. " It
does n't take very long to lend ten thousand
dollars ! " she said. " But that 's what I
always tell you. You have about made me
sick by singing the praises of those wonder-
ful partners of yours, and here you ask a
favor of one of them and he tells you to sell
your securities ! And you know, and he
knows, they 're worth next to nothing."
" You don't understand, dear " began
Barker.
" I understand that you 've given your
word to poor Harry," said Mrs. Barker in
pretty indignation, "who's responsible for
the Ditch purchase."
" And I shall keep it. I always do," said
Barker very quietly, but with that same sin-
gular expression of face that had puzzled
Stacy. But Mrs. Barker, who, perhaps,
knew her husband better, said in an altered
voice :
" But how can you, dear ? "
"If I 'm short a thousand or two I '11 ask
your father."
Mrs. Barker was silent. " Father 's so
very much harried now, George. Why don't
you simply throw the whole thing up ? "
96 THREE PARTNERS.
" But I 've given my word to your cousin
Henry."
"Yes, but only your word. There was
no written agreement. And you could n't
even hold him to it."
Barker opened his frank eyes in astonish-
ment. Her own cousin, too ! And they
were Stacy's very words !
" Besides," added Mrs. Barker audaciously,
" he could get rid of it elsewhere. He had
another offer, but he thought yours the best.
So don't be silly."
By this time they had reached their rooms.
Barker, apparently dismissing the subject
from his mind with characteristic buoyancy,
turned into the bedroom and walked smil-
ingly towards a small crib which stood in
the corner. " Why, he 's gone ! " he said
in some dismay.
" Well," said Mrs. Barker a little impa-
tiently, " you did n't expect me to take him
into the public parlor, where I was seeing
visitors, did you ? I sent him out with the
nurse into the lower hall to play with the
other children."
A shade momentarily passed over Barker's
face. He always looked forward to meeting
THREE PARTNERS. 97
the child when he came back. He had a
belief, based on no grounds whatever, that
the little creature understood him. And he
had a father's doubt of the wholesomeness
of other people's children who were born
into the world indiscriminately and not un-
der the exceptional conditions of his own.
" I '11 go and fetch him," he said.
" You have n't told me anything about
your interview ; what you did and what your
good friend Stacy said," said Mrs. Barker,
dropping languidly into a chair. " And
really if you are simply running away again
after that child, I might just as well have
asked Captain Heath to stay longer."
" Oh, as to Stacy," said Barker, dropping
beside her and taking her hand ; " well, dear,
he was awfully busy, you know, and shut up
in the innermost office like the agate in one
of the Japanese nests of boxes. But," he
continued, brightening up, "just the same
dear old Jim Stacy of Heavy Tree Hill,
when I first knew you. Lord ! dear, how it
all came back to me ! That day I proposed
to you in the belief that I was unexpectedly
rich and even bought a claim for the boys
on the strength of it, and how I came back
98 THESE PARTNERS.
to them to find that they had made a big
strike on the very claim. Lord ! I remem-
ber how I was so afraid to tell them about
you and how they guessed it that dear
old Stacy one of the first."
"Yes," said Mrs. Barker, "and I hope
your friend Stacy remembered that but for
me, when you found out that you were not
rich, you 'd have given up the claim, but
that I really deceived my own father to
make you keep it. I 've often worried over
that, George," she said pensively, turning
a diamond bracelet around her pretty wrist,
" although I never said anything about it."
" But, Kitty darling," said Barker, grasp-
ing his wife's hand, " I gave my note for it ;
you know you said that was bargain enough,
and I had better wait until the note was due,
and until I found I could n't pay, before I
gave up the claim. It was very clever of
you, and the boys all said so, too. But you
never deceived your father, dear," he said,
looking at her gravely, " for I should have
told him everything."
" Of course, if you look at it in that way,"
said his wife languidly, " it 's nothing ; only
I think it ought to be remembered when
THREE PARTNERS. 99
people go about saying papa ruined you with
his hotel schemes."
" Who dares say that ? " said Barker in-
dignantly.
" Well, if they don't say it they look it,"
said Mrs. Barker, with a toss of her pretty
head, " and I believe that 's at the bottom
of Stacy's refusal."
" But he never said a word, Kitty," said
Barker, flushing.
" There, don't excite yourself, George,"
said Mrs. Barker resignedly, " but go for
the baby. I know you 're dying to go, and
I suppose it 's time Norah brought it up-
stairs."
At any other time Barker would have
lingered with explanations, but just then a
deeper sense than usual of some misunder-
standing made him anxious to shorten this
domestic colloquy. He rose, pressed his
wife's hand, and went out. But yet he was
not entirely satisfied with himself for leaving
her. " I suppose it is n't right my going
off as soon as I come in," he murmured re-
proachfully to himself , " but I think she wants
the baby back as much as I ; only, woman-
like, she did n't care to let me know it."
100 THREE PARTNERS.
He reached the lower hall, which he knew
was a favorite promenade for the nurses
who were gathered at the farther end, where
a large window looked upon Montgomery
Street. But Norah, the Irish nurse, was
not among them ; he passed through several
corridors in his search, but in vain. At
last, worried and a little anxious, he turned
to regain his rooms through the long saloon
where he had found his wife previously. It
was deserted now ; the last caller had left
even frivolity had its prescribed limits. He
was consequently startled by a gentle mur-
mur from one of the heavily curtained
window recesses. It was a woman's voice
low, sweet, caressing, and filled with an
almost pathetic tenderness. And it was
followed by a distinct gurgling satisfied
crow.
Barker turned instantly in that direction.
A step brought him to the curtain, where a
singular spectacle presented itself.
Seated on a lounge, completely absorbed
and possessed by her treasure, was the
" horrid woman " whom his wife had indi-
cated only a little while ago, holding a baby
Kitty's sacred baby in her wanton lap '
THESE PARTNERS. 101
The child was feebly grasping the end of the
slender jeweled necklace which the woman
held temptingly dangling from a thin white
jeweled finger above it. But its eyes were
beaming with an intense delight, as if trying
to respond to the deep, concentrated love in
the handsome face that was bent above it.
At the sudden intrusion of Barker she
looked up. There was a faint rise in her
color, but no loss of self-possession.
" Please don't scold the nurse," she said,
"nor say anything to Mrs. Barker. It is
all my fault. I thought that both the nurse
and child looked dreadfully bored with each
other, and I borrowed the little fellow for
a while to try and amuse him. At least I
have n't made him cry, have I, dear ? " The
last epithet, it is needless to say, was ad-
dressed to the little creature in her lap, but
in its tender modulation it touched the fa-
ther's quick sympathies as if he had shared
it with the child. " You see," she said
softly, disengaging the baby fingers from
her necklace, " that our sex is not the only
one tempted by jewelry and glitter."
Barker hesitated ; the Madonna-like devo-
tion of a moment ago was gone ; it was only
102 THREE PARTNERS.
the woman of the world who laughingly
looked up at him. Nevertheless he was
touched. " Have you ever had a child,
Mrs. Horn castle ? " he asked gently and hes-
itatingly. He had a vague recollection that
she passed for a widow, and in his simple
eyes all women were virgins or married
saints.
" No," she said abruptly. Then she added
with a laugh, " Or perhaps I should not ad-
mire them so much. I suppose it 's the same
feeling bachelors have for other people's
wives. But I know you 're dying to take
that boy from me. Take him, then, and
don't be ashamed to carry him yourself just
because I 'm here ; you know you would de-
light to do it if I weren't."
Barker bent over the silken lap in which
the child was comfortably nestling, and in
that attitude had a faint consciousness that
Mrs. Horncastle was mischievously breathing
into his curls a silent laugh. Barker lifted
his firstborn with proud skillfulness, but
that sagacious infant evidently knew when
he was comfortable, and in a paroxysm of
objection caught his father's curls with one
fist, while with the other he grasped Mrs.
THREE PARTNERS. 103
Horncastle's brown braids and brought their
heads into contact. Upon which humorous
situation Norah, the nurse, entered.
" It 's all right, Norah," said Mrs. Horn-
castle, laughing, as she disengaged herself
from the linking child. " Mr. Barker has
claimed the baby, and has agreed to forgive
you and me and say nothing to Mrs. Bar-
ker." Norah, with the inscrutable criticism
of her sex on her sex, thought it extremely
probable, and halted with exasperating dis-
cretion. " There," continued Mrs. Horn-
castle, playfully evading the child's further
advances, " go with papa, that 's a dear.
Mr. Barker prefers to carry him back,
Norah."
" But," said the ingenuous and persistent
Barker, still lingering in hopes of recalling
the woman's previous expression, "you do
love children, and you think him a bright
little chap for his age ? "
" Yes," said Mrs. Horncastle, putting
back her loosened braid, " so round and fat
and soft. And such a discriminating eye
for jewelry. Really you ought to get a
necklace like mine for Mrs. Barker it
would please both, you know." She moved
104 TIIEEE PARTNERS.
slowly away, the united efforts of Norah
and Barker scarcely sufficing to restrain the
struggling child from leaping after her as
she turned at the door and blew him a kiss.
When Barker regained his room he found
that Mrs. Barker had dismissed Stacy from
her mind except so far as to invoke Norah's
aid in laying out her smartest gown for din-
ner. " But why take all this trouble,
dear ? " said her simple-minded husband ;
" we are going to dine in a private room so
that we can talk over old times all by our-
selves, and any dress would suit him. And,
Lord, dear ! " he added, with a quick bright-
ening at the fancy, " if you could only just
rig yourself up in that pretty lilac gown you
used to wear at Boom ville it would be too
killing, and just like old times. I put it
away myself in one of our trunks I
couldn't bear to leave it behind; I know
just where it is. I '11 " But Mrs. Bar-
ker's restraining scorn withheld him.
" George Barker, if you think I am going
to let you throw away and utterly waste Mr.
Stacy on us, alone, in a private room with
closed doors and I dare say you 'd like to
sit in your dressing-gown and slippers you
THREE PARTNERS. 105
are entirely mistaken. I know what is due,
not to your old partner, but to the great
Mr. Stacy, the financier, and I know what is
due from him to us ! No ! We dine in the
great dining-room, publicly, and, if possible,
at the very next table to those stuck-up Peter-
burys and their Eastern friends, including
that horrid woman, which, I 'm sure, ought
to satisfy you. Then you can talk as much
as you like, and as loud as you like, about
old times, and the louder and the more
the better, but I don't think he '11 like
it."
" But the baby ! " expostulated Barker.
" Stacy 's just wild to see him and we
can't bring him down to the table though
we might" he added, momentarily brighten-
ing.
" After dinner," said Mrs. Barker severely,
"we will walk through the big drawing-
rooms, and then Mr. Stacy may come up-
stairs and see him in his crib ; but not be-
fore. And now, George, I do wish that
to-night, for once, you would not wear a
turn-down collar, and that you would go to
the barber's and have him cut your hair and
smooth out the curls. And, for Heaven's
106 THREE, PARTNERS.
sake ! let him put some wax or gum or
something on your mustache and twist it
up on your cheek like Captain Heath's, for
it positively droops over your mouth like a
girl's ringlet. It 's quite enough for me to
hear people talk of your inexperience, but
really I don't want you to look as if I had
run away with a pretty schoolboy. And,
considering the size of that child, it 's posi-
tively disgraceful. And, one thing more,
George. When I 'm talking to anybody,
please don't sit opposite to me, beaming
with delight, and your mouth open. And
don't roar if by chance I say something
funny. And whatever you do don't
make eyes at me in company whenever I
happen to allude to you, as I did before
Captain Heath. It is positively too ridicu-
lous."
Nothing could exceed the laughing good
humor with which her husband received
these cautions, nor the evident sincerity with
which he promised amendment. Equally
sincere was he, though a little more thought-
ful, in his severe self-examination of his de-
ficiencies, when, later, he seated himself at
the window with one hand softly encom-
THESE PARTNERS. 107
passing his child's chubby fist in the crib
beside him, and, in the instinctive fashion
of all loneliness, looked out of the window.
The southern trades were whipping the
waves of the distant bay and harbor into
yeasty crests. Sheets of rain swept the side-
walks with the regularity of a fusillade,
against which a few pedestrians struggled
with flapping waterproofs and slanting um-
brellas. He could look along the deserted
length of Montgomery Street to the heights
of Telegraph Hill and its long-disused sema-
phore. It seemed lonelier to him than the
mile-long sweep of Heavy Tree Hill, writh-
ing against the mountain wind and its
seolian song. He had never felt so lonely
there. In his rigid self-examination he
thought Kitty right in protesting against
the effect of his youthfulness and optimism.
Yet he was also right in being himself.
There is an egoism in the highest simplicity ;
and Barker, while willing to believe in
others' methods, never abandoned his own
aims. He was right in loving Kitty as he
did ; he knew that she was better and more
lovable than she could believe herself to be ;
but he was willing to believe it pained and
108 THEEE PARTNERS.
discomposed her if he showed it before com-
pany. He would not have her change even
this peculiarity it was part of herself
no more than he would have changed him-
self. And behind what he had conceived
was her clear, practical common sense, all
this tune had been her belief that she had
deceived her father ! Poor dear, dear Kitty !
And she had suffered because stupid people
had conceived that her father had led him
away in selfish speculations. As if he
Barker would not have first discovered it>
and as if anybody even dear Kitty her-
self was responsible for his convictions
and actions but himself. Nevertheless, this
gentle egotist was unusually serious, and
when the child awoke at last, and with a
fretful start and vacant eyes pushed his
caressing hand away, he felt lonelier than
before. It was with a slight sense of humili-
ation, too, that he saw it stretch its hands
to the mere hireling, Norah, who had never
given it the love that he had seen even in
the frivolous Mrs. Horncastle's eyes. Later,
when his wife came in, looking very pretty
in her elaborate dinner toilette, he had the
same conflicting emotions. He knew that
THREE PARTNERS. 109
they had already passed that phase of their
married life when she no longer dressed to
please him, and that the dictates of fashion
or the rivalry of another woman she held
superior to his tastes ; yet he did not blame
her. But he was a little surprised to see
that her dress was copied from one of Mrs.
Horncastle's most striking ones, and that it
did not suit her. That which adorned the
maturer woman did not agree with the de-
mure and slightly austere prettiness of the
young wife.
But Barker forgot all this when Stacy
reserved and somewhat severe-looking in
evening dress arrived with business punc-
tuality. He fancied that his old partner
received the announcement that they would
dine in the public room with something of
surprise, and he saw him glance keenly at
Kitty in her fine array, as if he had sus-
pected it was her choice, and understood
her motives. Indeed, the young husband
had found himself somewhat nervous in
regard to Stacy's estimate of Kitty ; he was
conscious that she was not looking and act-
ing like the old Kitty that Stacy had known ;
it did not enter his honest heart that Stacy
110
THREE PAETNERS.
had, perhaps, not appreciated her then, and
that her present quality might accord more
with his worldly tastes and experience. It
was, therefore, with a kind of timid delight
that he saw Stacy apparently enter into her
mood, and with a still more timorous amuse-
ment to notice that he seemed to sympathize
not only with her, but with her half -rallying,
half-serious attitude towards his (Barker's)
inexperience and simplicity. He was glad
that she had made a friend of Stacy, even in
this way. Stacy would understand, as he
did, her pretty willfulness at last ; she would
understand what a true friend Stacy was to
him. It was with unfeigned satisfaction
that he followed them in to dinner as she
leaned upon his guest's arm, chatting confi-
dentially. He was only uneasy because her
manner had a slight ostentation.
The entrance of the little party produced
a quick sensation throughout the dining-
room. Whispers passed from table to table ;
all heads were turned towards the great
financier as towards a magnet ; a few guests
even shamelessly faced round in their chairs
as he passed. Mrs. Barker was pink, pretty,
and voluble with excitement ; Stacy had a
THREE PARTNERS. Ill
slight mask of reserve ; Barker was the
only one natural and unconscious.
As the dinner progressed Barker found
that there was little chance for him to invoke
his old partner's memories of the past. He
found, however, that Stacy had received a
letter from Demorest, and that he was com-
ing home from Europe. His letters were
still sad ; they both agreed upon that. And
then for the first time that day Stacy looked
intently at Barker with the look that he had
often worn on Heavy Tree Hill.
"Then you think it is the same old
trouble that worries him ? " said Barker in
an awed and sympathetic voice.
" I believe it is," said Stacy, with an equal
feeling. Mrs. Barker pricked up her pretty
ears ; her husband's ready sympathy was
familiar enough ; but that this cold, practical
Stacy should be moved at anything piqued
her curiosity.
" And you believe that he has never got
over it ? " continued Barker.
" He had one chance, but he threw it
away," said Stacy energetically. " If, in-
stead of going off to Europe by himself to
brood over it, he had joined me in business,
he 'd have been another man."
112 THREE PARTNERS.
" But not Demorest," said Barker quickly.
" What dreadful secret is this about De-
morest ? " said Mrs. Barker petulantly. " Is
heiU?"
Both men were silent by their old common
instinct. But it was Stacy who said " No "
in a way that put any further questioning at
an end, and Barker was grateful and for the
moment disloyal to his Kitty.
It was with delight that Mrs. Barker had
seen that the attention of the next table was
directed to them, and that even Mrs. Horn-
castle had glanced from time to time at
Stacy. But she was not prepared for the
evident equal effect that Mrs. Horncastle
had created upon Stacy. His cold face
warmed, his critical eye softened ; he asked
her name. Mrs. Barker was voluble, preju-
diced, and, it seemed, misinformed.
" I know it all," said Stacy, with didactic
emphasis. " Her husband was as bad as
they make them. When her life had be-
come intolerable with him, he tried to make
it shameful without him by abandoning her.
She couLl get a divorce a dozen times over,
but she won't."
" I suppose that 's what makes her so very
THREE P AETHERS. 113
attractive to gentlemen," said Mrs. Barker
ironically.
" I have never seen her before," continued
Stacy, with business precision, " although I
and two other men are guardians of her
property, and have saved it from the clutches
of her husband. They told me she was
handsome and so she is."
Pleased with the sudden human weakness
of Stacy, Barker glanced at his wife for sym-
pathy. But she was looking studiously an-
other way, and the young husband's eyes,
still full of his gratification, fell upon Mrs.
Horncastle's. She looked away with a bright
color. Whereupon the sanguine Barker
perfectly convinced that she returned Stacy's
admiration was seized with one of his old
boyish dreams of the future, and saw Stacy
happily united to her, and was only recalled
to the dinner before him by its end. Then
Stacy duly promenaded the great saloon with
Mrs. Barker on his arm, visited the baby in
her apartments, and took an easy leave.
But he grasped Barker's hand before part-
ing in quite his old fashion, and said,
" Come to lunch with me at the bank any
day, and we '11 talk of Phil Demorest," and
114 THREE PARTNERS.
left Barker as happy as if the appointment
were to confer the favor he had that morn-
ing refused. But Mrs. Barker, who had
overheard, was more dubious.
" You don't suppose he asks you to talk
with you about Demorest and his stupid
secret, do you ? " she said scornfully.
"Perhaps not only about that," said
Barker, glad that she had not demanded the
secret.
" Well," returned Mrs. Barker as she
turned away, " he might just as well lunch
here and talk about her and see her, too."
Meantime Stacy had dropped into his
club, only a few squares distant. His ap-
pearance created the same interest that it
had produced at the hotel, but with less re-
serve among his fellow members.
" Have you heard the news ? " said a
dozen voices. Stacy had not ; he had been
dining out.
" That infernal swindle of a Divide Rail-
road has passed the legislature."
Stacy instantly remembered Barker's ab-
surd belief in it and his reasons. He smiled
and said carelessly, " Are you quite sure it 's
a swindle ? "
THREE PARTNERS. 115
There was a dead silence at the coolness
of the man who had been most outspoken
against it.
"But," said a voice hesitatingly, "you
know it goes nowhere and to no purpose."
" But that does not prevent it, now that
it 's a fact, from going anywhere and to some
purpose," said Stacy, turning away. He
passed into the reading-room quietly, but in
an instant turned and quickly descended by
another staircase into the hall, hurriedly put
on his overcoat, and slipping out was a mo-
ment later reentering the hotel. Here he
hastily summoned Barker, who came down,
flushed and excited. Laying his hand on
Barker's arm in his old dominant way, he
said :
"Don't delay a single hour, but get a
written agreement for that Ditch property."
Barker smiled. " But I have. Got it
this afternoon."
" Then you know ? " ejaculated Stacy in
surprise.
" I only know," said Barker, coloring,
" that you said I could back out of it if it
was n't signed, and that 's what Kitty said,
too. And I thought it looked awfully mean
116 THREE PAETNEES.
for me to hold a man to that kind of a bar-
gam. And so you won't be mad, old fel-
low, will you ? I thought I 'd put it be-
yond any question of my own good faith by
having it in black and white." He stopped,
laughing and blushing, but still earnest and
sincere. "You don't think me a fool, do
you ?" he said pathetically.
Stacy smiled grimly. " I think, Barker
boy, that if you go to the Branch you '11
have no difficulty in paying for the Ditch
property. Good-night."
In a few moments he was back at the club
again before any one knew he had even left
the building. As he again reentered the
smoking-room he found the members still in
eager discussion about the new railroad. One
was saying, " If they could get an extension,
and carry the road through Heavy Tree
Hill to Boomville they 'd be all right."
" I quite agree with you," said Stacy.
CHAPTER III.
THE swaying, creaking, Boomville coach
had at last reached the level ridge, and sank
forward upon its springs with a sigh of re-
lief and the slow precipitation of the red
dust which had hung in clouds around it.
The whole coach, inside and out, was cov-
ered with this impalpable powder ; it had
poured into the windows that gaped widely
in the insufferable heat ; it lay thick upon the
novel read by the passenger who had for the
third or fourth time during the ascent made
a gutter of the half -opened book and blown
the dust away in a single puff, like the
smoke from a pistol. It lay in folds and
creases over the yellow silk duster of the
handsome woman on the back seat, and
when she endeavored to shake it off envel-
oped her in a reddish nimbus. It grimed
the handkerchiefs of others, and left san-
guinary streaks on their mopped foreheads.
But as the coach had slowly climbed the
118 THESE PARTNERS.
summit the sun was also sinking behind the
Black Spur Range, and with its ultimate
disappearance a delicious coolness spread
itself like a wave across the ridge. The
passengers drew a long breath, the reader
closed his book, the lady lifted the edge of
her veil and delicately wiped her forehead,
over which a few damp tendrils of hair were
clinging. Even a distinguished-looking man
who had sat as impenetrable and remote as
a statue in one of the front seats moved and
turned his abstracted face to the window.
His deeply tanned cheek and clearly cut fea-
tures harmonized with the red dust that lay
in the curves of his brown linen dust-cloak,
and completed his resemblance to a bronze
figure. Yet it was Demorest, changed only
in coloring. Now, as five years ago, his ab-
straction had a certain quality which the
most familiar stranger shrank from disturb-
ing. But in the general relaxation of relief
the novel-reader addressed him.
" Well, we ain't far from Boomville now,
and it 's all down-grade the rest of the way.
I reckon you '11 be as glad to get a ' wash
up ' and a ' shake ' as the rest of us."
" I am afraid I won't have so early an
THESE PARTNERS. 119
opportunity," said Demorest, with a faint,
grave smile, " for I get off at the cross-road
to Heavy Tree Hill."
" Heavy Tree Hill ! " repeated the other
in surprise. " You ain't goin' to Heavy
Tree Hill? Why, you might have gone
there direct by railroad, and have been there
four hours ago. You know there 's a branch
from the Divide Railroad goes there straight
to the hotel at Hymettus."
" Where ? " said Demorest, with a puzzled
smile.
" Hymettus. That 's the fancy name
they 've given to the watering-place on the
slope. But I reckon you 're a stranger
here?"
" For five years," said Demorest. " I
fancy I 've heard of the railroad, although
I prefer to go to Heavy Tree this way. But
I never heard of a watering-place there be-
fore."
" Why, it 's the biggest boom of the year.
Folks that are tired of the fogs of 'Frisco
and the heat of Sacramento all go there.
It 's four thousand feet up, with a hotel like
Saratoga, dancing, and a band plays every
night. And it all sprang out of the Di-
120 THESE PARTNERS.
vide Railroad and a crank named George
Barker, who bought up some old Ditch pro-
perty and ran a branch line along its levels,
and made a junction with the Divide.
You can come all the way from 'Frisco or
Sacramento by rail. It 's a mighty big
thing ! "
" Yet," said Demorest, with some anima-
tion, " you call the man who originated this
success a crank. I should say he was a
genius."
The other passenger shook his head.
" All sheer nigger luck. He bought the
Ditch plant afore there was a ghost of a
chance for the Divide Railroad, just out
o' pure d d foolishness. He expected so
little from it that he had n't even got the
agreement done in writin', and had n't paid
for it, when the Divide Railroad passed
the legislature, as it never oughter done !
For, you see, the blamedest cur'ous thing
about the whole affair was that this ' straw '
road of a Divide, all pure wildcat, was only
gotten up to frighten the Pacific Railroad
sharps into buying it up. And the road
that nobody ever calculated would ever have
a rail of it laid was pushed on as soon
THREE PARTNERS. 121
as folks knew that the Ditch plant had
been bought up, for they thought there
was a big thing behind it. Even the hotel
was, at first, simply a kind of genteel alms-
house that this yer Barker had built for
broken-down miners ! "
" Nevertheless," continued Demorest, smil-
ing, " you admit that it is a great success ? "
"Yes," said the other, a little irritated
by some complacency in Demorest's smile,
" but the success is n't his'n. Fools has
ideas, and wise men profit by them, for that
hotel now has Jim Stacy's bank behind it,
and is even a kind of country branch of the
Brook House in 'Frisco. Barker 's out of it,
I reckon. Anyhow, he could n't run a hotel,
for all that his wife she that 's one of the
big 'Frisco swells now used to help serve
in her father's. No, sir, it 's just a fool's
luck, gettin' the first taste and leavin' the
rest to others."
"I'm not sure that it's the worst kind
of luck," returned Demorest, with persistent
gravity ; " and I suppose he 's satisfied with
it." But so heterodox an opinion only irri-
tated his antagonist the more, especially
as he noticed that the handsome woman in
122 THREE PARTNERS.
the back seat appeared to be interested in
the conversation, and even sympathetic with
Demorest. The man was in the main a
good-natured fellow and loyal to his friends ;
but this did not preclude any virulent criti-
cism of others, and for a moment he hated
this bronze-faced stranger, and even saw
blemishes in the handsome woman's beauty.
"That may be your idea of an Eastern
man," he said bluntly, " but I kin tell ye
that Californy ain't run on those lines. No,
sir." Nevertheless, his curiosity got the
better of his ill humor, and as the coach at
last pulled up at the cross-road for Demorest
to descend he smiled affably at his departing
companion.
" You allowed just now that you 'd bin
five years away. Whar mout ye have bin ? "
"In Europe," said Demorest pleasantly.
" I reckoned ez much," returned his inter-
rogator, smiling significantly at the other
passengers. " But in what place ? "
" Oh, many," said Demorest, smiling also.
" But what place war ye last livin' at ? "
"Well," said Demorest, descending the
steps, but lingering for a moment with his
hand on the door of the coach, " oddly
THREE PARTNERS. 123
enough, now you remind me of it at Hy-
mettus ! "
He closed the door, and the coach rolled
on. The passenger reddened, glanced indig-
nantly after the departing figure of Demo-
rest and suspiciously at the others. The
lady was looking from the window with a
faint smile on her face.
" He might hev given me a civil answer,"
muttered the passenger, and resumed his
novel.
When the coach drew up before Carter's
Hotel the lady got down, and the curiosity
of her susceptible companions was gratified
to the extent of learning from the register
that her name was Horncastle.
She was shown to a private sitting-room,
which chanced to be the one which had be-
longed to Mrs. Barker in the days of her
maidenhood, and was the sacred, impenetra-
ble bower to which she retired when her
daily duties of waiting upon her father's
guests were over. But the breath of custom
had passed through it since then, and but
little remained of its former maiden glories,
except a few schoolgirl crayon drawings on
the wall and an unrecognizable portrait of
124 THREE PAETNERS.
herself in oil, done by a wandering artist
and still preserved as a receipt for his un-
paid bill. Of these facts Mrs. Horncastle
knew nothing; she was evidently preoccu-
pied, and after she had removed her outer
duster and entered the room, she glanced at
the clock on the mantel-shelf and threw her-
self with an air of resigned abstraction in
an armchair in the corner. Her traveling-
dress, although unostentatious, was tasteful
and well-fitting; a slight pallor from her
fatiguing journey, and, perhaps, from some
absorbing thought, made her beauty still
more striking. She gave even an air of
elegance to the faded, worn adornments of
the room, which it is to be feared it never
possessed in Miss Kitty's occupancy. Again
she glanced at the clock. There was a tap
at the door.
" Come in."
The door opened to a Chinese servant
bearing a piece of torn paper with a name
written on it in lieu of a card.
Mrs. Horncastle took it, glanced at the
name, and handed the paper back.
" There must be some mistake," she said.
" I do not know Mr. Steptoe."
THREE PARTNERS. 125
"No, but you kuow me all the same,"
said a voice from the doorway as a man
entered, coolly took the Chinese servant by
the elbows and thrust him into the passage,
closing the door upon him. " Steptoe and
Horncastle are the same man, only I prefer
to call myself Steptoe here. And I see
you 're down on the register as ' Horncastle.'
Well, it 's plucky of you, and it 's not a bad
name to keep ; you might be thankful that I
have always left it to you. And if I call
myself Steptoe here it 's a good blind against
any of your swell friends knowing you met
your husband here."
In the half-scornful, half -resigned look she
had given him when he entered there was no
doubt that she recognized him as the man
she had come to see. He had changed little
in the five years that had elapsed since he
entered the three partners' cabin at Heavy
Tree Hill. His short hair and beard still
clung to his head like curled moss or the
crisp -flocculence of Astrakhan. He was
dressed more pretentiously, but still gave
the same idea of vulgar strength. She lis-
tened to him without emotion, but said, with
even a deepening of scorn in her manner :
126 THESE PARTNERS.
" What new shame is this ? "
" Nothing new" he replied. " Only five
years ago I was livin' over on the Bar at
Heavy Tree Hill under the name of Steptoe,
and folks here might recognize me. I was
here when your particular friend, Jim Stacy,
who only knew me as Steptoe, and doesn't
know me as Horncastle, your husband, for
all he 's bound up my property for you,
made his big strike with his two partners.
I was in his cabin that very night, and
drank his whiskey. Oh, I 'm all right there 1
I left everything all right behind me
only it 's just as well he does n't know I 'm
Horncastle. And as the boy happened to be
there with me " He stopped, and looked
at her significantly.
The expression of her face changed.
Eagerness, anxiety, and even fear came into
it in turn, but always mingling with some
scorn that dominated her. " The boy ! " she
said in a voice that had changed too ; " well,
what about him ? You promised to tell me
all, all!"
" Where 's the money ? " he said. " Hus-
band and wife are one, I know," he went on
with a coarse laugh, " but I don't trust my-
self in these matters."
THEEE PARTNERS. 127
She took from a traveling-reticule that lay
beside her a roll of notes and a chamois
leather bag of coin, and laid them on the
table before him. He examined both care-
fully.
" All right," he said. " I see you 've got
the checks made out 'to bearer.' Your
head 's level, Conny. Pity you and me can't
agree."
"I went to the bank across the way as
soon as I arrived," she said, with contemp-
tuous directness. " I told them I was going
over to Hymettus and might want money."
He dropped into a chair before her with
his broad heavy hands upon his knees, and
looked at her with an equal, though baser,
contempt : for his was mingled with a cer-
tain pride of mastery and possession.
" And, of course, you '11 go to Hymettus
and cut a splurge as you always do. The
beautiful Mrs. Horncastle! The helpless
victim of a wretched, dissipated, disgraced,
gambling husband. So dreadfully sad, you
know, and so interesting ! Could get a di-
vorce from the brute if she wanted, but
won't, on account of her religious scruples.
And so while the brute is gambling, swin-
128 THREE PARTNERS.
dling, disgracing himself , and dodging a shot
here and a lynch committee there, two or
three hundred miles away, you 're splurging
round in first-class hotels and watering-
places, doing the injured and abused, and
run after by a lot of men who are ready to
take my place, and, maybe, some of my re-
putation along with it."
" Stop ! " she said suddenly, in a voice
that made the glass chandelier ring. He
had risen too, with a quick, uneasy glance
towards the door. But her outbreak passed
as suddenly, and sinking back into her chair,
she said, with her previous scornful resig-
nation, " Never mind. Go on. You know
you 're lying ! "
He sat down again and looked at her
critically. " Yes, as far as you 're concerned
I was lying ! I know your style. But as
you know, too, that I 'd kill you and the first
man I suspected, and there ain't a judge or
a jury in all Californy that would n't let me
go free for it, and even consider, too, that it
had wiped off the whole slate agin me it 's
to my credit ! "
"I know what you men call chivalry,"
she said coldly, " but I did not come hero to
THREE PARTNERS. 129
buy a knowledge of that. So now about the
child ? " she ended abruptly, leaning forward
again with the same look of eager solicitude
in her eyes.
"Well, about the child our child
though, perhaps, I prefer to say my child,"
he began, with a certain brutal frankness.
" I '11 tell you. But first, I don't want you
to talk about buying your information of
me. If I have n't told you anything before,
it 's because I did n't think you oughter
know. If I did n't trust the child to you,
it 's because I did n't think you could go
shashaying about with a child that was
three years old when I " he stopped and
wiped his mouth with the back of his hand
".made an honest woman of you I
think that 's what they call it."
" But," she said eagerly, ignoring the
insult, " I could have hidden it where no one
but myself would have known it. I could
have sent it to school and visited it as a
relation."
" Yes," he said curtly, " like all women,
and then blurted it out some day and made
it worse."
" But," she said desperately, " even then,
130 THREE PARTNERS.
suppose I had been willing to take the shame
of it ! I have taken more ! "
" But I did n't intend that you should,"
he said roughly.
" You are very careful of my reputation,' 1
she returned scornfully.
" Not by a d d sight," he burst out ;
" but I care for his ! I 'm not goin' to let
any man call him a bastard ! "
Callous as she had become even under
this last cruel blow, she could not but see
something in his coarse eyes she had never
seen before ; could not but hear something
in his brutal voice she had never heard be-
fore! Was it possible that somewhere in
the depths of his sordid nature he had his
own contemptible sense of honor ? A hys-
terical feeling came over her hitherto passive
disgust and scorn, but it disappeared with
his next sentence in a haze of anxiety.
" No ! " he said hoarsely, " he had enough
wrong done him already."
" What do you mean ? " she said implor-
ingly. " Or are you again lying ? You
said, four years ago, that he had ' got into
trouble ; ' that was your excuse for keeping
him from me. Or was that a lie, too ? "
THREE PARTNERS. 181
His manner changed and softened, but
not for any pity for his companion, but
rather from some change in Ms own feelings.
"Oh, that" he said, with a rough laugh,
" that was only a kind o' trouble any sassy
kid like him was likely to get into. You
ain't got no call to hear that, for," he added,
with a momentary return to his previous
manner, " the wrong that was done him is
my lookout ! You want to know what I did
with him, how he 's been looked arter, and
where he is ? You want the worth of your
money. That 's square enough. But first
I want you to know, though you mayn't be-
lieve it, that every red cent you Ve given
me to-night goes to him. And don't you
forget it"
For all his vulgar frankness she knew he
had lied to her many times before, ma-
liciously, wantonly, complacently, but never
evasively; yet there was again that some-
thing in his manner which told her he was
now telling the truth.
" Well," he began, settling himself back
in his chair, " I told you I brought him to
Heavy Tree Hill. After I left you I was n't
going to trust him to no school ; he knew
132 THREE PARTNERS.
enough for me ; but when I left those parts
where nobody knew you, and got a little
nearer 'Frisco, where people might have
known us both, I thought it better not to
travel round with a kid o' that size as his
father. So I got a young fellow here to
pass him off as his little brother, and look
after him and board him ; and I paid him a
big price for it, too, you bet ! You would n't
think it was a man who 's now swelling
around here, the top o' the pile, that ever
took money from a brute like me, and for
such schoolmaster work, too ; but he did,
and his name was Van Loo, a clerk of the
Ditch Company."
" Van Loo ! " said the woman, with a
movement of disgust ; " that man ! "
" What 's the matter with Van Loo ? " he
said, with a coarse laugh, enjoying his wife's
discomfiture. " He speaks French and Span-
ish, and you oughter hear the kid roll off the
lingo he 's got from him. He 's got style,
and knows how to dress, and you ought to
see the kid bow and scrape, and how he car-
ries himself. Now, Van Loo was n't ex-
actly my style, and I reckon I don't hanker
after him much, but he served my purpose."
THBEE PAETNEES. 133
" And this man knows " she said, with
a shudder.
" He knows Steptoe and the boy, but he
don't know Horncastle nor you. Don't you
be skeert. He 's the last man in the world
who would hanker to see me or the kid again,
or would dare to say that he ever had !
Lord ! I 'd like to see his fastidious mug
if me and Eddy walked in upon him and his
high-toned mother and sister some arter-
noon." He threw himself back and laughed
a derisive, spasmodic, choking laugh, which
was so far from being genial that it even
seemed to indicate a lively appreciation of
pain in others rather than of pleasure in
himself. He had often laughed at her in
the same way.
" And where is he now ? " she said, with a
compressed lip.
" At school. Where, I don't tell you.
You know why. But he 's looked after by
me, and d d well looked after, too."
She hesitated, composed her face with an
effort, parted her lips, and looked out of the
window into the gathering darkness. Then
after a moment she said slowly, yet with a
certain precision :
134 THEEE PARTNERS.
" And his mother ? Do you ever talk to
him of her ? Does does he ever speak
of me?"
" What do you think ? " he said comfort-
ably, changing his position in the chair, and
trying to read her face in the shadow.
" Come, now. You don't know, eh ? Well
no ! No ! You understand. No ! He 's my
friend mine ! He 's stood by me through
thick and thin. Run at my heels when
everybody else fled me. Dodged vigilance
committees with me, laid out in the brush
with me with his hand in mine when the
sheriff's deputies were huntin' me ; shut his
jaw close when, if he squealed, he 'd have
been called another victim of the brute
Horncastle, and been as petted and canoodled
as you."
It would have been difficult for any one
but the woman who knew the man before
her to have separated his brutish delight in
paining her from another feeling she had
never dreamt him capable of, an intense
and fierce pride in his affection for his child.
And it was the more hopeless to her that it
was not the mere sentiment of reciprocation,
but the material instinct of paternity in its
THREE PARTNERS. 135
most animal form. And it seemed horrible
to her that the only outcome of what had
been her own wild, youthful passion for this
brute was this love for the flesh of her flesh,
for she was more and more conscious as he
spoke that her yearning for the boy was the
yearning of an equally dumb and unreason-
ing maternity. They had met again as
animals in fear, contempt, and anger of
each other ; but the animal had triumphed
in both.
When she spoke again it was as the
woman of the world, the woman who had
laughed two years ago at the irrepressible
Barker. " It 's a new thing," she said,
languidly turning her rings on her fingers,
"to see you in the role of a doting father.
And may I ask how long you have had this
amiable weakness, and how long it is to
last?"
To her surprise and the keen retaliating
delight of her sex, a conscious flush covered
his face to the crisp edges of his black and
matted beard. For a moment she hoped
that he had lied. But, to her greater sur-
prise, he stammered in equal frankness :
" It 's growed upon me for the last five years
136 THREE PARTNERS.
ever since I was alone with him." He
stopped, cleared his throat, and then, stand-
ing up before her, said in his former voice,
but with a more settled and intense deliber-
ation : " You waiiter know how long it will
last, do ye ? Well, you know your special
friend, Jim Stacy the big millionaire
the great Jim of the Stock Exchange the
man that pinches the money market of Cali-
forny between his finger and thumb and
makes it squeal in New York the man
who shakes the stock market when he
sneezes ? Well, it will go on until that man
is a beggar ; until he has to borrow a dime
for his breakfast, and slump out of his lunch
with a cent's worth of rat poison or a bullet
in his head ! It '11 go on until his old part-
ner that softy George Barker comes to
the bottom of his d d fool luck and is a
penny-a-liner . for the papers and a hanger-
round at free lunches, and his scatter-brained
wife runs away with another man ! It '11 go
on until the high-toned Demorest, the last
of those three little tin gods of Heavy Tree
Hill, will have to climb down, and will know
what / feel and what he 's made me feel,
and will wish himself in hell before he ever
THREE PARTNERS. 137
made the big strike on Heavy Tree ! That 's
me ! You hear me ! I 'm shoutin' ! It '11
last till then ! It may be next week, next
month, next year. But it '11 come. And
when it does come you '11 see me and Eddy
just waltzin' in and takin' the chief seats in
the synagogue ! And you '11 have a free
pass to the show ! "
Either he was too intoxicated with his
vengeful vision, or the shadows of the room
had deepened, but he did not see the quick
flush that had risen to his wife's face with
this allusion to Barker, nor the after-settling
of her handsome features into a dogged
determination equal to his own. His blind
fury against the three partners did not touch
her curiosity ; she was only struck with the
evident depth of his emotion. He had
never been a braggart ; his hostility had
always been lazy and cynical. Remember-
ing this, she had a faint stirring of respect
for the undoubted courage and consciousness
of strength shown in this wild but single-
handed crusade against wealth and power ;
rather, perhaps, it seemed to her to condone
her own weakness in her youthful and in-
explicable passion for him. No wonder she
had submitted.
138 THREE PARTNERS.
"Then you have nothing more to tell
me ? " she said after a pause, rising and
going towards the mantel.
"You needn't light up for me," he re-
turned, rising also. " I am going. Unless,"
he added, with his coarse laugh, " you think
it would n't look well for Mrs. Horncastle
to have been sitting in the dark with a
stranger ! " He paused as she contemptu-
ously put down the candlestick and threw
the unlit match into the grate. " No, I 've
nothing more to tell. He 's a fancy-looking
pup. You 'd take him for twenty-one,
though he 's only sixteen clean-limbed
and perfect but for one thing " He
stopped. He met her quick look of inter-
rogation, however, with a lowering silence
that, nevertheless, changed again as he sur-
veyed her erect figure by the faint light of
the window with a sardonic smile. " He
favors you, I think, and in all but one thing,
too."
" And that ? " she queried coldly, as he
seemed to hesitate.
" He ain't ashamed of we," he returned,
with a laugh.
The door closed behind him ; she heard
THESE PARTNERS. 139
his heavy step descend the creaking stairs ;
he was gone. She went to the window and
threw it open, as if to get rid of the atmos-
phere charged with his presence, a pre-
sence still so potent that she now knew that
for the last five minutes she had been, to
her horror, struggling against its magnet-
ism. She even recoiled now at the thought
of her child, as if, in these new confidences
over it, it had revived the old intimacy in
this link of their common flesh. She looked
down from her window on the square shoul-
ders, thick throat, and crisp matted hair of
her husband as he vanished in the darkness,
and drew a breath of freedom, a freedom
not so much from him as from her own
weakness that he was bearing away with him
into the exonerating night.
She shut the window and sank down in
her chair again, but in the encompassing
and compassionate obscurity of the room.
And this was the man she had loved and for
whom she had wrecked her young life ! Or
was it love ? and, if not, how was she better
than he ? Worse ; for he was more loyal
to that passion that had brought them to-
gether and its responsibilities than she was.
140 THESE PARTNERS.
She had suffered the perils and pangs of
maternity, and yet had only the mere ani-
mal yearning for her offspring, while he had
taken over the toil and duty, and even the
devotion, of parentage himself. But then
she remembered also how he had fascinated
her a simple schoolgirl by his sheer
domineering strength, and how the objec-
tions of her parents to this coarse and com-
mon man had forced her into a clandestine
intimacy that ended in her complete subjec-
tion to him. She remembered the birth of
an infant whose concealment from her par-
ents and friends was compassed by his low
cunning; she remembered the late atone-
ment of marriage preferred by the man she
had already begun to loathe and fear, and
who she now believed was eager only for
her inheritance. She remembered her ab-
ject compliance through the greater fear of
the world, the stormy scenes that followed
their ill-omened union, her final abandon-
ment of her husband, and the efforts of her
friends and family who had rescued the last
of her property from him. She was glad
she remembered it ; she dwelt upon it, upon
his cruelty, his coarseness and vulgarity,
THREE PARTNERS. 141
until she saw, as she honestly believed, the
hidden springs of his affection for their
child. It was his child in nature, however
it might have favored her in looks ; it was
his own brutal self he was worshiping in
his brutal progeny. How else could it have
ignored her its own mother ? She never
doubted the truth of what he had told her
she had seen it in his own triumphant
eyes. And yet she would have made a kind
mother ; she remembered with a smile and
a slight rising of color the affection of Bar-
ker's baby for her ; she remembered with a
deepening of that color the thrill of satisfac-
tion she had felt in her husband's fulmina-
tion against Mrs. Barker, and, more than
all, she felt in his blind and foolish hatred
of Barker himself a delicious condonation of
the strange feeling that had sprung up in
her heart for Barker's simple, straightfor-
ward nature. How could he understand,
how could they understand (by the plural
she meant Mrs. Barker and Horncastle), a
character so innately noble. In her strange
attraction towards him she had felt a charm-
ing sense of what she believed was a supe-
rior and even matronly protection ; in the
142 THREE PARTNERS.
utter isolation of her life now and with
her husband's foolish abuse of him ringing
in her ears it seemed a sacred duty.
She had lost a son. Providence had sent
her an ideal friend to replace him. And this
was quite consistent, too, with a faint smile
that began to play about her mouth as she
recalled some instances of Barker's delight-
ful and irresistible youthfulness.
There was a clatter of hoofs and the
sound of many voices from the street. Mrs.
Horncastle knew it was the down coach
changing horses ; it would be off again in a
few moments, and, no doubt, bearing her
husband away with it. A new feeling of
relief came over her as she at last heard the
warning " All aboard ! " and the great vehi-
cle clattered and rolled into the darkness,
trailing its burning lights across her walls
and ceiling. But now she heard steps on
the staircase, a pause before her room, a
whisper of voices, the opening of the door,
the rustle of a skirt, and a little feminine
cry of protest as a man apparently tried to
follow the figure into the room. " No, no !
I tell you no ! " remonstrated the woman's
voice in a hurried whisper. " It won't do.
THREE PARTNERS. 143
Everybody knows me here. You must not
come in now. You must wait to be an-
nounced by the servant. Hush ! Go ! "
There was a slight struggle, the sound of
a kiss, and the woman succeeded in finally
shutting the door. Then she walked slowly,
but with a certain familiarity towards the
mantel, struck a match and lit the candle.
The light shone upon the bright eyes and
slightly flushed face of Mrs. Barker. But
the motionless woman in the chair had re-
cognized her voice and the voice of her com-
panion at once. And then their eyes met.
Mrs. Barker drew back, but did not utter
a cry. Mrs. Horncastle, with eyes even
brighter than her companion's, smiled. The
red deepened in Mrs. Barker's cheek.
" This is my room ! " she said indignantly,
with a sweeping gesture around the walls.
" I should judge so," said Mrs. Horn-
castle, following the gesture ; " but," she
added quietly, " they put me into it. It
appears, however, they did not expect you."
Mrs. Barker saw her mistake. "No,
no," she said apologetically, " of course not."
Then she added, with nervous volubility,
sitting down and tugging at her gloves,
144 THREE PARTNERS.
" You see, I just ran down from Marysville
to take a look at my father's old house on
my way to Hymettus. I hope I have n't
disturbed you. Perhaps," she said, with
sudden eagerness, " you were asleep when I
came in ! "
" No," said Mrs. Horncastle, " I was not
sleeping nor dreaming. I heard you come
in."
" Some of these men are such idiots,"
said Mrs. Barker, with a half-hysterical
laugh. " They seem to think if a woman
accepts the least courtesy from them they 've
a right to be familiar. But I fancy that
fellow was a little astonished when I shut
the door in his face."
" I fancy he was" returned Mrs. Horn-
castle dryly. " But I should n't call Mr.
Van Loo an idiot. He has the reputation
of being a cautious business man."
Mrs. Barker bit her lip. Her companion
had been recognized. She rose with a slight
flirt of her skirt. " I suppose I must go
and get a room; there was nobody in the
office when I came. Everything is badly
managed here since my father took away the
best servants to Hymettus." She moved
THREE PARTNERS. 145
with affected carelessness towards the door,
when Mrs. Horncastle, without rising from
her seat, said :
" Why not stay here ? "
Mrs. Barker brightened for a moment.
" Oh," she said, with polite deprecation, " I
could n't think of turning you out."
" I don't intend you shall," said Mrs.
Horncastle. " We will stay here together
until you go with me to Hymettus, or until
Mr. Van Loo leaves the hotel. He will
hardly attempt to come in here again if I
remain."
Mrs. Barker, with a half-laugh, sat down
irresolutely. Mrs. Horncastle gazed at her
curiously ; she was evidently a novice in this
sort of thing. But, strange to say, and I
leave the ethics of this for the sex to settle,
the fact did not soften Mrs. Horncastle's
heart, nor in the least qualify her attitude
towards the younger woman. After an awk-
ward pause Mrs. Barker rose again. " Well,
it 's very good of you, and and I '11 just
run out and wash my hands and get the dust
off me, and come back."
" No, Mrs, Barker," said Mrs. Horncastle,
rising and approaching her, " you will first
146 THREE PARTNERS.
wash your hands of this Mr. Van Loo, and
get some of the dust of the rendezvous off
you before you do anything else. You can
do it by simply telling him, should you meet
him in the hall, that I was sitting here when
he came in, and heard everything ! Depend
upon it, he won't trouble you again."
But Mrs. Barker, though inexperienced in
love, was a good fighter. The best of the
sex are. She dropped into the rocking-
chair, and began rocking backwards and for-
wards while still tugging at her gloves, and
said, in a gradually warming voice, " I cer-
tainly shall not magnify Mr. Van Loo's
silliness to that importance. And I have
yet to learn what you mean by talking about
a rendezvous ! And I want to know," she
continued, suddenly stopping her rocking and
tilting the rockers impertinently behind her,
as, with her elbows squared on the chair
arms, she tilted her own face defiantly up
into Mrs. Horncastle's, " how a woman in
your position who does n't live with her
husband dares to talk to me I "
There was a lull before the storm. Mrs.
Horncastle approached nearer, and, laying
her hand on the back of the chair, leaned
THREE PARTNERS. 147
over her, and, with a white face and a me-
tallic ring in her voice, said : " It is just be-
cause I am a woman in my position that I
do ! It is because I don't live with my hus-
band that I can tell you what it will be
when you no longer live with yours which
will be the inevitable result of what you are
now doing. It is because I was hi this posi-
tion that the very man who is pursuing you,
because he thinks you are discontented with
your husband, once thought he could pursue
me because I had left mine. You are here
with him alone, without the knowledge of
your husband ; call it folly, caprice, vanity,
or what you like, it can have but one end
to put you in my place at last, to be consid-
ered the fair game afterwards for any man
who may succeed him. You can test him
and the truth of what I say by telling him
now that I heard all."
" Suppose he does n't care what you have
heard," said Mrs. Barker sharply. " Sup-
pose he says nobody would believe you, if
' telling ' is your game. Suppose he is a
friend of my husband and he thinks him H
much better guardian of my reputation than
a woman like you. Suppose he should be
148 THREE PARTNERS.
the first one to tell ray husband of the foul
slander invented by you ! "
For an instant Mrs. Horncastle was taken
aback by the audacity of the woman before
her. She knew the simple confidence and
boyish trust of Barker in his wife in spite
of their sometimes strained relations, and
she knew how difficult it would be to shake
it. And she had no idea of betraying Mrs.
Barker's secret to him, though she had made
this scene in his interest. She had wished
to save Mrs. Barker from a compromising
situation, even if there was a certain vindic-
tiveness in her exposing her to herself. Yet
she knew it was quite possible now, if Mrs.
Barker had immediate access to her hus-
band, that she would convince him of her
perfect innocence. Nevertheless, she had
still great confidence in Van Loo's fear of
scandal and his utter unmanliness. She
knew he was not in love with Mrs. Barker,
and this puzzled her when she considered
the evident risk he was running now. Her
face, however, betrayed nothing. She drew
back from Mrs. Barker, and, with an indif-
ferent and graceful gesture towards the
door, said, as she leaned against the mantel,
THREE PAETNEES. 149
" Go, then, and see this much-abused gentle-
man, and then go together with him and
make peace with your husband even on
those terms. If I have saved you from the
consequences of your folly I shall be willing
to bear even his blame."
" Whatever I do," said Mrs. Barker, ris-
ing hotly, " I shall not stay here any longer
to be insulted." She flounced out of the
room and swept down the staircase into the
office. Here she found an overworked clerk,
and with crimson cheeks and flashing eyes
wanted to know why in her own father's
hotel she had found her own sitting-room
engaged, and had been obliged to wait half
an hour before she could be shown into a
decent apartment to remove her hat and
cloak in ; and how it was that even the gen-
tleman who had kindly escorted her had
evidently been unable to procure her any
assistance. She said this in a somewhat
high voice, which might have reached the
ears of that gentleman had he been in the
vicinity. But he was not, and she was
forced to meet the somewhat dazed apologies
of the clerk alone, and to accompany the
chambermaid to a room only a few paces
150 THREE PARTNERS.
distant from the one she had quitted. Here
she hastily removed her outer duster and
hat, washed her hands, and consulted her
excited face in the mirror, with the door
ajar and an ear sensitively attuned to any
step in the corridor. But all this was effected
so rapidly that she was at last obliged to sit
down in a chair near the half -opened door,
and wait. She waited five minutes ten
but still no footstep. Then she went out
into the corridor and listened, and then,
smoothing her face, she slipped downstairs,
past the door of that hateful room, and
reappeared before the clerk with a smiling
but somewhat pale and languid face. She
had found the room very comfortable, but it
was doubtful whether she would stay over
night or go on to Hymettus. Had anybody
been inquiring for her? She expected to
meet friends. No ! And her escort the
gentleman who came with her was possi-
bly hi the billiard-room or the bar ?
" Oh no ! He was gone," said the clerk.
" Gone! " echoed Mrs. Barker. " Impos-
sible! He was he was here only a mo-
ment ago."
The clerk rang a bell sharply. The sta-
bleman appeared.
THEEE PARTNERS. 151
" That tall, smooth-faced man, in a high
hat, who came with the lady," said the clerk
severely and concisely, " did n't you tell
me he was gone ? "
" Yes, sir," said the stableman.
" Are you sure ? " interrupted Mrs. Bar-
ker, with a dazzling smile that, however,
masked a sudden tightening round her heart.
"Quite sure, miss," said the stableman,
" for he was in the yard when Steptoe came,
after missing the coach. He wanted a buggy
to take him over to the Divide. We had n't
one, so he went over to the other stables, and
he did n't come back, so I reckon he 's gone.
I remember it, because Steptoe came by a
minute after he'd gone, in another buggy,
and as he was going to the Divide, too, I
wondered why the gentleman hadn't gone
with him."
"And he left no message for me? He
said nothing?" asked Mrs. Barker, quite
breathless, but still smiling.
" He said nothin' to me but * Is n't that
Steptoe over there ? ' when Steptoe came in.
And I remember he said it kinder suddent
as if he was reminded o' suthin' he'd
forgot ; and then he asked for a buggy. Y&
152 THREE PARTNERS.
see, miss," added the man, with a certain
rough consideration for her disappointment,
" that 's niebbe why he clean forgot to leave
a message."
Mrs. Barker turned away, and ascended
the stairs. Selfishness is quick to recognize
selfishness, and she saw in a flash the reason
of Van Loo's abandonment of her. Some
fear of discovery had alarmed him ; perhaps
Steptoe knew her husband ; perhaps he had
heard of Mrs. Horncastle's possession of the
sitting-room ; perhaps for she had not
seen him since their playful struggle at the
door he .had recognized the woman who
was there, and the selfish coward had run
away. Yes ; Mrs. Horncastle was right :
she had been only a miserable dupe.
Her cheeks blazed as she entered the room
she had just quitted, and threw herself in a
chair by the window. She bit her lip as she
remembered how for the last three months
she had been slowly yielding to Van Loo's
cautious but insinuating solicitation, from
a flirtation in the San Francisco hotel to a
clandestine meeting in the street; from a
ride in the suburbs to a supper in a fast
restaurant after the theatre. Other women
THREE PARTNERS. 153
did it who were fashionable and rich, as Van
Loo had pointed out to her. Other fashion-
able women also gambled in stocks, and had
their private broker in a " Charley " or a
" Jack." Why should not Mrs. Barker
have business with a " Paul " Van Loo,
particularly as this fast craze permitted se-
cret meetings? for business of this kind
could not be conducted in public, and per-
mitted the fair gambler to call at private
offices without fear and without reproach.
Mrs. Barker's vanity, Mrs. Barker's love of
ceremony and form, Mrs. Barker's snobbish-
ness, were flattered by the attentions of this
polished gentleman with a foreign name,
which even had the flavor of nobility, who
never picked up her fan and handed it to
her without bowing, and always rose when
she entered the room. Mrs. Barker's scant
schoolgirl knowledge was touched by this
gentleman, who spoke French fluently, and
delicately explained to her the libretto of a
risky opera bouffe. And now she had finally
yielded to a meeting out of San Francisco
and an ostensible visit still as a specu-
lator to one or two mining districts
with her broker. This was the boldest of
154 THESE PARTNERS.
her steps an original idea of the fashion-
able Van Loo which, no doubt, in time
would become a craze, too. But it was a
long step and there was a streak of rustic
decorum in Mrs. Barker's nature the in-
stinct that made Kitty Carter keep a per-
fectly secluded and distinct sitting-room in
the days when she served her father's guests
that now had impelled her to make it a
proviso that the first step of her journey
should be from her old home in her father's
hotel. It was this instinct of the proprieties
that had revived in her suddenly at the door
of the old sitting-room.
Then a new phase of the situation flashed
upon her. It was Bard for her vanity to
accept Van Loo's desertion as voluntary and
final. What if that hateful woman had
lured him away by some trick or artfully
designed message ? She was capable of such
meanness to insure the fulfillment of her
prophecy. Or, more dreadful thought, what
if she had some hold on his affections she
had said that he had pursued her ; or, more
infamous still, there were some secret un-
derstanding between them, and that she
Mrs. Barker was the dupe of them both I
THREE PARTNERS. 155
What was she doing in the hotel at such a
moment ? What was her story of going to
Hymettus but a lie as transparent as her
own ? The tortures of jealousy, which is as
often the incentive as it is the result of pas-
sion, began to rack her. She had probably
yet known no real passion for this man ; but
with the thought of his abandoning her, and
the conception of his faithlessness, came the
wish to hold and keep him that was danger-
ously near it. What if he were even then in
that room, the room where she had said she
would not stay to be insulted, and they, thus
secured against her intrusion, were laughing
at her now ? She half rose at the thought,
but a sound of a horse's hoofs in the stable-
yard arrested her. She ran to the window
which gave upon it, and, crouching down be-
side it, listened eagerly. The clatter of
hoofs ceased ; the stableman was talking to
some one ; suddenly she heard the stable-
man say, " Mrs. Barker is here." Her heart
leaped, Van Loo had returned.
But here the voice of the other man
which she had not yet heard arose for the
first time clear and distinct. " Are you
quite sure ? I did n't know she left San
Francisco."
156 THREE PAETNEE8.
The room reeled around her. The voice
was George Barker's, her husband ! " Very
well," he continued. " You need n't put up
my horse for the night. I may take her
back a little later in the buggy."
In another moment she had swept down
the passage, and burst into the other room.
Mrs. Horncastle was sitting by the table
with a book in her hand. She started as
the half-maddened woman closed the door,
locked it behind her, and cast herself on her
knees at her feet.
" My husband is here," she gasped.
" What shall I do ? In Heaven's name help
me!"
" Is Van Loo still here ? " said Mrs.
Horncastle quickly.
" No ; gone. He went when I came."
Mrs. Horncastle caught her hand and
looked intently into her frightened face.
" Then what have you to fear from your
husband ? " she said abruptly.
" You don't understand. He did n't know
I was here. He thought me in San Fran-
cisco."
" Does he know it now ? "
" Yes. I heard the stableman tell him.
THREE PARTNERS. 157
Could n't you say I came here with you ;
that we were here together ; that it was just
a little freak of ours ? Oh, do ! "
Mrs. Horncastle thought a moment.
" Yes," she said, " we '11 see him here to-
gether."
" Oh no ! no ! " said Mrs. Barker sud-
denly, clinging to her dress and looking
fearfully towards the door. " I could n't,
could n't see him now. Say I 'm sick, tired
out, gone to my room."
" But you '11 have to see him later," said
Mrs. Horncastle wonderingly.
" Yes, but he may go first. I heard him
tell them not to put up his horse."
" Good ! " said Mrs. Horncastle sud-
denly. " Go to your room and lock the
door, and I '11 come to you later. Stop !
Would Mr. Barker be likely to disturb you
if I told him you would like to be alone ? "
" No, he never does. I often tell him
that."
Mrs. Horncastle smiled faintly. " Come,
quick, then," she said, "for he may come
here first."
Opening the door she passed into the half
dark and empty hall. " Now run ! " She
158 THREE PARTNERS.
heard the quick rustle of Mrs. Barker's skirt
die away in the distance, the opening and
shutting of a door silence and then
turned back into her own room.
She was none too soon. Presently she
heard Barker's voice saying, " Thank you, I
can find the way," his still buoyant step on
the staircase, and then saw his brown curls
rising above the railing. The light stream-
ing through the open door of the sitting-
room into the half-lit hall had partially
dazzled him, and, already bewildered, he
was still more dazzled at the unexpected
apparition of the smiling face and bright
eyes of Mrs. Horncastle standing in the
doorway.
" You have fairly caught us," she said,
with charming composure ; " but I had half
a mind to let you wander round the hotel a
little longer. Come in." Barker followed
her in mechanically, and she closed the door.
" Now, sit down," she said gayly, " and tell
me how you knew we were here, and what
you mean by surprising us at this hour."
Barker's ready color always rose on meet
ing Mrs. Horncastle, for whom he enter-
tained a respectful admiration, rot. without
THESE PARTNERS. 159
some fear of her worldly superiority. He
flushed, bowed, and stared somewhat blankly
around the room, at the familiar walls, at
the chair from which Mrs. Horncastle had
just risen, and finally at his wife's glove,
which Mrs. Horncastle had a moment before
ostentatiously thrown on the table. Seeing
which she pounced upon it with assumed
archness, and pretended to conceal it.
"I had no idea my wife was here," he
said at last, " and I was quite surprised
when the man told me, for she had not writ-
ten to me about it." As his face was bright-
ening, she for the first time noticed that his
frank gray eyes had an abstracted look, and
there was a faint line of contraction on his
youthful forehead. " Still less," he added,
" did I look for the pleasure of meeting you.
For I only came here to inquire about my
old partner, Demorest, who arrived from
Europe a few days ago, and who should
have reached Hymettus early this afternoon.
But now I hear he came all the way by
coach instead of by rail, and got off at the
cross-road, and we must have passed each
other on the different trails. So my journey
would have gone for nothing, only that I
160 THREE PARTNERS.
now shall have the pleasure of going back
with you and Kitty. It will be a lovely
drive by moonlight."
Relieved by this revelation, it was easy
work for Mrs. Horncastle to launch out into
a playful, tantalizing, witty but, I grieve
to say, entirely imaginative account of her
escapade with Mrs. Barker. How, left alone
at the San Francisco hotel while their gen-
tlemen friends were enjoying themselves at
Hymettus, they resolved upon a little trip,
partly for the purpose of looking into some
small investments of their own, and partly
for the fun of the thing. What funny
experiences they had ! How, in particular,
one horrid inquisitive, vulgar wretch had
been boring a European fellow passenger
who was going to Hymettus, finally asking
him where he had come from last, and when
he answered " Hymettus," thought the man
was insulting him
" But," interrupted the laughing Barker,
" that passenger may have been Demorest,
who has just come from Greece, and surely
Kitty would have recognized him."
Mrs. Horncastle instantly saw her blun-
der, and not only retrieved it, but turned it
THREE PARTNERS. 161
to account. Ah, yes ! but by that time poor
Kitty, unused to long journeys and the heat,
was utterly fagged out, was asleep, and per-
fectly unrecognizable in veils and dusters on
the back seat of the coach. And this brought
her to the point which was, that she was
sorry to say, on arriving, the poor child was
nearly wild with a headache from fatigue
and had gone to bed, and she had promised
not to disturb her.
The undisguised amusement, mingled with
relief, that had overspread Barker's face
during this lively recital might have pricked
the conscience of Mrs. Horncastle, but for
some reason I fear it did not. But it em-
boldened her to go on. " I said I promised
her that I would see she was n't disturbed ;
but, of course, now that you, her husband^
have come, if "
" Not for worlds," interrupted Barker
earnestly. " I know poor Kitty's headaches,
and I never disturb her, poor child, except
when I 'm thoughtless." And here one of
the most thoughtful men in the world in his
sensitive consideration of others beamed at
her with such frank and wonderful eyes that
the arch hypocrite before him with difficulty
102 THREE PARTNERS.
suppressed a hysterical desire to laugh, and
felt the conscious blood flush her to the root
of her hair. " You know," he went on, with
a sigh, half of relief and half of reminiscence,
" that I often think I 'm a great bother to
a clear-headed, sensible girl like Kitty. She
knows people so much better than I do.
She 's wonderfully equipped for the world,
and, you see, I 'm only ' lucky,' as every-
body says, and I dare say part of my luck
was to have got her. I 'm very glad she 's
a friend of yours, you know, for somehow I
fancied always that you were not interested
in her, or that you did n't understand each
other until now. It 's odd that nice women
don't always like nice women, is n't it ? I 'm
glad she was with you ; I was quite startled
to learn she was here, and could n't make
it out. I thought at first she might have
got anxious about our little Sta, who is
with me and the nurse at Hymettus. But
I 'm glad it was only a lark. I should n't
wonder/' lie added, with a laugh, " although
she always declares she is n't one of those
' doting, idiotic mothers/ that she found it
a little dull without the boy, for all she
thought it was better for me to take him
somewhere for a change of air."
THESE PARTNERS. 163
The situation was becoming more difficult
for Mrs. Horncastle than she had conceived.
There had been a certain excitement in its
first direct appeal to her tact and courage,
and even, she believed, an unselfish desire
to save the relations between husband and
wife if she could. But she had not calcu-
lated upon his unconscious revelations, nor
upon their effect upon herself. She had
concluded to believe that Kitty had, in a
moment of folly, lent herself to this hare-
brained escapade, but it now might be pos-
sible that it had been deliberately planned.
Kitty had sent her husband and child away
three weeks before. Had she told the whole
truth ? How long had this been going on ?
And if the soulless Van Loo had deserted
her now, was it not, perhaps, the miserable
ending of an intrigue rather than its begin-
ning? Had she been as great a dupe of
this woman as the husband before her? A
new and double consciousness came over her
that for a moment prevented her from meet-
ing his honest eyes. She felt the shame of
being an accomplice mingled with a fierce
joy at the idea of a climax that might sepa-
rate him from his wife forever.
164 THESE PARTNERS.
Luckily he did not notice it, but with a
continued sense of relief threw himself back
in his chair, and glancing familiarly round
the walls broke into his youthful laugh.
" Lord ! how I remember this room in the
old days. It was Kitty's own private sit-
ting-room, you know, and I used to think it
looked just as fresh and pretty as she. I
used to think her crayon drawing wonderful,
and still more wonderful that she should
have that unnecessary talent when it was
quite enough for her to be just ' Kitty.'
You know, don't you, how you feel at those
times when you 're quite happy in being in-
ferior " He stopped a moment with a
sudden recollection that Mrs. Horncastle's
marriage had been notoriously unhappy.
" I mean," he went on with a shy little laugh
and an innocent attempt at gallantry which
the very directness of his simple nature
made atrociously obvious, "I mean what
you've made lots of young fellows feel.
There used to be a picture of Colonel Brigg
on the mantelpiece, in full uniform, and
signed by himself ' for Kitty ; ' and Lord !
how jealous I was of it, for Kitty never
took presents from gentlemen, and nobody
THREE PARTNERS. 165
even was allowed in here, though she helped
her father all over the hotel. She was aw-
fully strict in those days," he interpolated,
with a thoughtful look and a ^ half -sigh;
" but then she was n't married. I proposed
to her hi this very room ! Lord ! I remem-
ber how frightened I was." He stopped
for an instant, and then said with a certain
timidity, " Do you mind my telling you
something about it? "
Mrs. Horncastle was hardly prepared to
hear these ingenuous domestic details, but
she smiled vaguely, although she could not
suppress a somewhat impatient movement
with her hands. Even Barker noticed it,
but to her surprise moved a little nearer to
her, and in a half-entreating way said, " I
hope I don't bore you, but it 's something
confidential. Do you know that she first
refused me ? "
Mrs. Horncastle smiled, but could not re-
sist a slight toss of her head. " I believe
they all do when they are sure of a man."
" No ! " said Barker eagerly, " you don't
understand. I proposed to her because I
thought I was rich. In a foolish moment
I thought I had discovered that some old
166 THESE PARTNERS.
stocks I had had acquired a fabulous value.
She believed it, too, but because she thought
I was now a rich man and she only a poor
girl a mere servant to her father's guests
she refused me. Refused me because
she thought I might regret it in the future,
because she would not have it said that she
had taken advantage of my proposal only
when I was rich enough to make it."
" Well ? " said Mrs. Horncastle incredu-
lously, gazing straight before her ; " and
then?"
" In about an hour I discovered my error,
that my stocks were worthless, that I was
still a poor man. I thought it only honest
to return to her and tell her, even though I
had no hope. And then she pitied me, and
cried, and accepted me. I tell it to you as
her friend." He drew a little nearer and
quite fraternally laid his hand upon her
own. " I know you won't betray me,
though you may think it wrong for me to
have told it ; but I wanted you to know how
good she was and true."
For a moment Mrs. Horncastle was
amazed and discomfited, although she saw,
with the inscrutable instinct of her sex, no
THESE PARTNERS. 167
inconsistency between the Kitty of those
days and the Kitty now shamefully hiding
from her husband in the same hotel. No
doubt Kitty had some good reason for her
chivalrous act. But she could see the un-
mistakable effect of that act upon the more
logically reasoning husband, and that it
might lead him to be more merciful to the
later wrong. And there was a keener irony
that his first movement of unconscious kind-
liness towards her was the outcome of his
affection for his undeserving wife.
" You said just now she was more prac-
tical than you," she said dryly. " Apart
from this evidence of it, what other reasons
have you for thinking so ? Do you refer to
her independence or her dealings in the
stock market ? " she added, with a laugh.
" No," said Barker seriously, " for I do
not think her quite practical there ; indeed,
I'm afraid she is about as bad as I am.
But I 'm glad you have spoken, for I can
now talk confidentially with you, and as you
and she are both in the same ventures, per-
haps she will feel less compunction in hear-
ing from you as your own opinion what
I have to tell you than if I spoke to her
168 THREE PARTNERS.
myself. I am afraid she trusts implicitly to
Van Loo's judgment as her broker. I be-
lieve he is strictly honorable, but the general
opinion of his business insight is not high.
They perhaps I ought to say he have
been at least so unlucky that they might
have learned prudence. The loss of twenty
thousand dollars in three months "
" Twenty thousand ! " echoed Mrs. Horn-
castle.
" Yes. Why, you knew that ; it was in
the mine you and she visited ; or, perhaps,"
he added hastily, as he flushed at his indis-
cretion, " she did n't tell you that."
But Mrs. Horncastle as hastily said,
" Yes yes of course, only I had for-
gotten the amount ; " and he continued :
" That loss would have frightened any
man ; but you women are more daring.
Only Van Loo ought to have withdrawn.
Don't you think so ? Of course I could n't
say anything to him without seeming to con-
demn my own wife ; I could n't say anything
to her because it 's her own money."
"I didn't know that Mrs. Barker had
any money of her own," said Mrs. Horn-
castle.
THREE PARTNERS. 169
" Well, I gave it to her," said Barker,
with sublime simplicity, "and that would
make it all the worse for me to speak about
it."
Mrs. Horncastle was silent. A new
theory flashed upon her which seemed to re-
concile all the previous inconsistencies of the
situation. Van Loo, under the guise of a
lover, was really possessing himself of Mrs.
Barker's money. This accounted for the
risks he was running in this escapade, which
were so incongruous to the rascal's nature.
He was calculating that the scandal of an
intrigue would relieve him of the perils of
criminal defalcation. It was compatible with
Kitty's innocence, though it did not relieve
her vanity of the part it played in this de-
spicable comedy of passion. All that Mrs.
Horncastle thought of now was the effect of
its eventful revelation upon the man before
her. Of course, he would overlook his wife's
trustfulness and business ignorance it
would seem so like his own unselfish faith!
That was the fault of all unselfish goodness ;
it even took the color of adjacent evil, with-
out altering the nature of either. Mrs.
Horncastle set her teeth tightly together, but
170 THREE PARTNERS.
her beautiful mouth smiled upon Barker,
though her eyes were bent upon the tabje-
cloth before her.
" I shall do all I can to impress your views
upon her," she said at last, " though I fear
they will have little weight if given as my
own. And you overrate my general influ-
ence with her."
Her handsome head drooped in such a
thoughtful humility that Barker instinctively
drew nearer to her. Besides, she had not
lifted her dark lashes for some moments,
and he had the still youthful habit of look-
ing frankly into the eyes of those he ad-
dressed.
" No," he said eagerly ; " how could I ?
She could not help but love you and do as
you would wish. I can't tell you how glad
and relieved I am to find that you and she
have become such friends. You know I
always thought you beautiful, I always
thought you so clever I was even a little
frightened of you; but I never until now
knew you were so good. No, stop ! Yes, I
did know it. Do you remember once in
San Francisco, when I found you with
Sta in your lap in the drawing-room ? I
THREE PARTNERS. 171
knew it then. You tried to make me think
it was a whim the fancy of a bored and
worried woman. But I knew better. And
I knew what you were thinking then. Shall
I tell you?"
As her eyes were still cast down, although
her mouth was still smiling, in his endeavors
to look into them his face was quite near
hers. He fancied that it bore the look she
had worn once before.
" You were thinking," he said in a voice
which had grown suddenly quite hesitating
and tremulous, he did not know why,
" that the poor little baby was quite friend-
less and alone. You were pitying it you
know you were because there was no one
to give it the loving care that was its due,
and because it was intrusted to that hired
nurse hi that great hotel. You were think-
ing how you would love it if it were yours,
and how cruel it was that Love was sent
without an object to waste itself upon. You
were : I saw H in your face."
She suddenly lifted her eyes and looked
full into his with a look that held and pos-
sessed him. For a moment his whole soul
seemed to tremble on the verge of their lus-
172 THREE PARTNERS.
irons depths, and he drew back dizzy and
frightened. What he saw there he never
clearly knew ; but, whatever it was, it seemed
to suddenly change his relations to her, to
the room, to his wife, to the world without.
It was a glimpse of a world of which he
knew nothing. He had looked frankly and
admiringly into the eyes of other pretty wo-
men ; he had even gazed into her own before,
but never with this feeling. A sudden sense
that what he had seen there he had himself
evoked, that it was an answer to some ques-
tion he had scarcely yet formulated, and that
they were both now linked by an understand-
ing and consciousness that was irretrievable,
came over him. He rose awkwardly and
went to the window. She rose also, but
more leisurely and easily, moved one of the
books on the table, smoothed out her skirts,
and changed her seat to a little sofa. It is
the woman who always comes out of these
crucial moments unruffled.
" I suppose you will be glad to see your
friend Mr. Demorest when you go back,"
she said pleasantly ; " for of course he will
be at Hymettus awaiting you."
He turned eagerly, as he always did at
THREE PARTNERS. 173
the name. But even then he felt that De-
inorest was no longer of such importance to
him. He felt, too, that he was not yet quite
sure of his voice or even what to say. As
he hesitated she went on half playfully : " It
seems hard that you had to come all the
way here on such a bootless errand. You
have n't even seen your wife yet."
The mention of his wife recalled him to
himself, oddly enough, when Demorest's name
had failed. But very differently. Out of
his whirling consciousness came the instinc-
tive feeling that he could not see her now.
He turned, crossed the room, sat down on
the sofa beside Mrs. Horncastle, and with-
out, however, looking at her, said, with his
eyes on the floor, " No ; and I 've been
thinking that it 's hardly worth while to dis-
turb her so early to-morrow as I should have
to go. So I think it 's a good deal better to
let her have a good night's rest, remain here
quietly with you to-morrow until the stage
leaves, and that both of you come over to-
gether. My horse is still saddled, and I
will be back at Hymettus before Demorest
has gone to bed."
He was obliged to look up at her as he
174 THREE PARTNERS.
rose. Mrs. Horncastle was sitting erect,
beautiful and dazzling as even he had never
seen her before. For his resolution had
suddenly lifted a great weight from her
shoulders, the dangerous meeting of hus-
band and wife the next morning, and its
results, whatever they might be, had been
quietly averted. She felt, too, a half-fright-
ened joy even in the constrained manner in
which he had imparted his determination.
That frankness which even she had some-
times found so crushing was gone.
" I really think you are quite right," she
said, rising also, " and, besides, you see, it
will give me a chance to talk to her as you
wished."
" To talk to her as I wished ? " echoed
Barker abstractedly.
" Yes, about Van Loo, you know," said
Mrs. Horncastle, smiling.
" Oh, certainly about Van Loo, of
course," he returned hurriedly.
" And then," said Mrs. Horncastle bright-
ly, " I '11 tell her. Stay ! " she interrupted
herself hurriedly. " Why need I say any-
thing about your having been here at all ?
It might only annoy her, as you yourself sug-
THESE PARTNERS. 175
gest." She stopped breathlessly with parted
Hps.
"Why, indeed?" said Barker vaguely.
Yet all this was so unlike his usual truthful-
ness that he slightly hesitated.
" Besides," continued Mrs. Horncastle,
noticing it, " you know you can always tell
her later, if necessary." And she added with
a charming mischievousness, " As she did n't
tell you she was coming, I really don't see
why you are bound to tell her that you were
here."
The sophistry pleased Barker, even though
it put him into a certain retaliating attitude
towards his wife which he was not aware of
feeling. But, as Mrs. Horncastle put it, it
was only a playful attitude.
" Certainly," he said. " Don't say any-
thing about it."
He moved to the door with his soft, broad-
brimmed hat swinging between his fingers.
She noticed for the first tune that he looked
taller in his long black serape and riding-
boots, and, oddly enough, much more like
the hero of an amorous tryst than Van
Loo. " I know," she said brightly, " you
are eager to get back to your old friend, and
176 TIIREE PARTNERS.
it would be selfish for me to try to keep you
longer. You have had a stupid evening, but
you have made it pleasant to me by telling
me what you thought of me. And before
you go I want you to believe that I shall
try to keep that good opinion." She spoke
frankly in contrast to the slight worldly con-
straint of Barker's manner ; it seemed as
if they had changed characters. And then
she extended her hand.
With a low bow, and without looking up,
he took it. Again their pulses seemed to
leap together with one accord and the same
mysterious understanding. He could not
tell if he had unconsciously pressed her hand
or if she had returned the pressure. But
when their hands unclasped it seemed as if
it were the division of one flesh and spirit.
She remained standing by the open door
until his footsteps passed down the staircase.
Then she suddenly closed and locked the
door with an instinct that Mrs. Barker
might at once return now that he was gone,
and she wished to be a moment alone to
recover herself. But she presently opened
it again and listened. There was a noise in
the courtyard, but it sounded like the rattle
THREE PAETNEES. 177
of wheels more than the clatter of a horse-
man. Then she was overcome a sudden
sense of pity for the unfortunate woman still
hiding from her husband and felt a mo-
mentary chivalrous exaltation of spirit. Cer-
tainly she had done " good " to that wretched
" Kitty ; " perhaps she had earned the epi-
thet that Barker had applied to her. Per-
haps that was the meaning of all this hap-
piness to her, and the result was to be only
the happiness and reconciliation of the wife
and husband. This was to be her reward.
I grieve to say that the tears had come into
her beautiful eyes at this satisfactory conclu-
sion, but she dashed them away and ran out
into the hall. It was quite dark, but there was
a faint glimmer on the opposite wall as if the
door of Mrs. Barker's bedroom were ajar to
an eager listener. She flew towards the
glimmer, and pushed the door open : the
room was empty. Empty of Mrs. Barker,
empty of her dressing-box, her reticule and
shawl. She was gone.
Still, Mrs. Horncastle lingered ; the wo-
man might have got frightened and retreated
to some further room at the opening of the
door and the coming out of her husband.
178 THESE PARTNERS.
She walked along the passage, calling her
name softly. She even penetrated the dreary,
half-lit public parlor, expecting to find her
crouching there. Then a sudden wild idea
took possession of her : the miserable wife
had repented of her act and of her conceal-
ment, and had crept downstairs to await her
husband in the office. She had told him
some new lie, had begged him to take her
with him, and Barker, of course, had as-
sented. Yes, she now knew why she had
heard the rattling wheels instead of the
clattering hoofs she had listened for. They
had gone together, as he first proposed, in
the buggy.
She ran swiftly down the stairs and en-
tered the office. The overworked clerk was
busy and querulously curt. These women
were always asking such idiotic questions.
Yes, Mr. Barker had just gone.
" With Mrs. Barker in the buggy ? "
asked Mrs. Horncastle.
" No, as he came on horseback. Mrs.
Barker left half an hour ago."
" Alone ? "
This was apparently too much for the
long-suffering clerk. He lifted his eyes to
THREE PARTNERS. 179
the ceiling, and then, with painful precision,
and accenting every word with his pencil on
the desk before him, said deliberately, " Mrs.
George Barker left here with her
escort the man she was always
asking for in the buggy at ex.
actly 9.35." And he plunged into his
work again.
Mrs. Horncastle turned, ran up the
staircase, reentered the sitting-room, and
slamming the door behind her, halted in the
centre of the room, panting, erect, beauti-
ful, and menacing. And she was alone in
this empty room this deserted hotel.
From this very room her husband had left
her with a brutality on his lips. From this
room the fool and liar she had tried to warn
had gone to her ruin with a swindling hypo-
crite. And from this room the only man in
the world she ever cared for had gone forth
bewildered, wronged, and abused, and she
knew now she could have kept and com-
forted him.
CHAPTER IV.
WHEN Philip Demorest left the stage-
coach at the cross-roads he turned into the
only wayside house, the blacksmith's shop,
and, declaring his intention of walking over
to Hymettus, asked permission to leave his
hand-bag and wraps until they could be sent
after him. The blacksmith was surprised
that this " likely mannered," distinguished-
looking " city man " should walk eight miles
when he could ride, and tried to dissuade
him, offering his own buggy. But he was
still more surprised when Demorest, laying
aside his duster, took off his coat, and, sling-
ing it on his arm, prepared to set forth with
the good-humored assurance that he would
do the distance in a couple of hours and get
in in time for supper. " I would n't be too
sure of that," said the blacksmith grimly,
" or even of getting a room. They 're a
stuck-up lot over there, and they ain't goin'
to hump themselves over a chap who comes
THREE PARTNERS. 181
traipsin' along the road like any tramp, with
nary baggage." But Demorest laughingly
accepted the risk, and taking his stout stick
hi one hand, pressed a gold coin into the
blacksmith's palm, which was, however, de-
clined with such reddening promptness that
Demorest as promptly reddened and apolo-
gized. The habits of European travel had
been still strong on him, and he felt a slight
patriotic thrill as he said, with a grave
smile, " Thank you, then ; and thank you
still more for reminding me that I am
among my own ' people,' ' and stepped
lightly out into the road.
The air was still deliciously cool, but
warmer currents from the heated pines be-
gan to alternate with the wind from the
summit. He found himself sometimes walk-
ing through a stratum of hot air which
seemed to exhale from the wood itself, while
his head and breast were swept by the moun-
tain breeze. He felt the old intoxication
of the balmy-scented air again, and the five
years of care and hopelessness laid upon his
shoulders since he had last breathed its fra-
grance slipped from them like a burden.
There had been but little change here ; per-
182 THREE PARTNERS.
haps the road was wider and the dust lay
thicker, but the great pines still mounted in
serried ranks on the slopes as before, with
no gaps in their unending files. Here was
the spot where the stagecoach had passed
them that eventful morning when they were
coming out of their camp-life into the world
of civilization ; a little further back, the spot
where Jack Hamlin had forced upon him
that grim memento of the attempted robbery
of their cabin, which he had kept ever since.
He half smiled again at the superstitious in-
terest that had made him keep it, with the
intention of some day returning to bury it,
with all recollections of the deed, under the
site of the old cabin. As he went on in the
vivifying influence of the air and scene, new
life seemed to course through his veins ; his
step seemed to grow as elastic as in the old
days of their bitter but hopeful struggle for
fortune, when he had gayly returned from
his weekly tramp to Boomville laden with
the scant provision procured by their scant
earnings and dying credit. Those were
the days when her living image still in-
spired his heart with faith and hope ; when
everything was yet possible to youth and
THREE PARTNERS. 183
love, and before the irony of fate had given
him fortune with one hand only to withdraw
Jier with the other. It was strange and
cruel that coming back from his quest of
rest and forgetfulness he should find only
these youthful and sanguine dreams revive
with his reviving vigor. He walked on
more hurriedly as if to escape them, and was
glad to be diverted by one or two carryalls
and char-a-bancs filled with gayly dressed
pleasure parties evidently visitors to Hy-
mettus which passed him on the road.
Here were the first signs of change. He
recalled the train of pack-mules of the old
days, the file of pole-and-basket carrying
Chinese, the squaw with the papoose strapped
to her shoulder, or the wandering and foot-
sore prospector, who were the only wayfar-
ers he used to meet. He contrasted their
halts and friendly greetings with the inso-
lent curiosity or undisguised contempt of the
carriage folk, and smiled as he thought of
the warning of the blacksmith. But this
did not long divert him ; he found himself
again returning to his previous thought.
Indeed, the face of a young girl in one of
the carriages had quite startled him with its
184 THREE PARTNERS.
resemblance to an old memory of his lost
love as he saw her, her frail, pale ele-
gance encompassed in laces as she leaned
back in her drive through Fifth Avenue,
with eyes that lit up and became transfig-
ured only as he passed. He tried to think
of his useless quest in search of her last
resting-place abroad ; how he had been baf-
fled by the opposition of her surviving re-
lations, already incensed by the thought that
her decline had been the effect of her hope-
less passion. He tried to recall the few
frigid lines that reconveyed to him the last
letter he had sent her, with the announce-
ment of her death and the hope that " his
persecutions " would now cease. A wild
idea had sometimes come to him out of the
very insufficiency of his knowledge of this
climax, but he had always put it aside as a
precursor of that madness which might end
his ceaseless thought. And now it was re-
turning to him, here, thousands of miles
away from where she was peacefully sleep-
ing, and even filling him with the vigor of
youthful hope.
The brief mountain twilight was giving
way now to the radiance of the rising moon.
THREE PARTNERS. 185
He endeavored to fix his thoughts upon his
partners who were to meet him at Hymettus
after these long years of separation.
Hymettus ! He recalled now the odd
coincidence that he had mischievously used
as a gag to his questioning fellow traveler :
but now he had really come from a villa
near Athens to find his old house thus classi-
cally rechristened after it, and thought of it
with a gravity he had not felt before. He
wondered who had named it. There was no
suggestion of the soft, sensuous elegance of
the land he had left in those great heroics
of nature before him. Those enormous
trees were no woods for fauns or dryads ;
they had their own godlike majesty of bulk
and height, and as he at last climbed the
summit and saw the dark-helmeted head of
Black Spur before him, and beyond it the
pallid, spiritual cloud of the Sierras, he did
not think of Olympus. Yet for a moment
he was startled, as he turned to the right,
by the Doric-columned facade of a temple
painted by the moonbeams and framed in
an opening of the dark woods before him.
It was not until he had reached it that he
saw that it was the new wooden post-office
of Heavy Tree Hill.
186 THREE PARTNERS.
And now the buildings of the new set-
tlement began to faintly appear. But the
obscurity of the shadow and the equally dis-
turbing unreality of the moonlight confused
him in his attempts to recognize the old
landmarks. A broad and well-kept winding
road had taken the place of the old steep,
but direct trail to his cabin. He had
walked for some moments in uncertainty,
when a sudden sweep of the road brought
the full crest of the hill above and before
him, crowned with a tiara of lights, over-
topping a long base of flashing windows.
That was all that was left of Heavy Tree
Hill. The old foreground of buckeye and
odorous ceanothus was gone. Even the great
grove of pines behind it had vanished.
There was already a stir of life in the
road, and he could see figures moving slowly
along a kind of sterile, formal terrace spread
with a few dreary marble vases and plaster
statues which had replaced the natural slope
and the great quartz buttresses of outcrop
that supported it. Presently he entered a
gate, and soon found himself in the carriage
drive leading to the hotel veranda. A num-
ber of fair promenaders were facing the
THREE PARTNERS.
187
keen mountain night wind in wraps and
furs. Demorest had replaced his coat, but
his boots were red with dust, and as he
ascended the steps he could see that he was
eyed with some superciliousness by the
guests and with considerable suspicion by
the servants. One of the latter was ap-
proaching him with an insolent smile when a
figure darted from the vestibule, and, brush-
ing the waiter aside, seized Demorest's two
hands in his and held him at arm's length.
" Demorest, old man ! "
" Stacy, old chap ! "
" But where 's your team ? I 've had all
the spare hostlers and hall-boys listening for
you at the gate. And where 's Barker ?
When he found you 'd given the dead-cut to
the railroad his railroad, you know he
loped over to Boomville after you."
Demorest briefly explained that he had
walked by the old road and probably missed
him. But by this time the waiters, crushed
by the spectacle of this travel- worn stranger's
affectionate reception by the great financial
magnate, were wildly applying their brushes
and handkerchiefs to his trousers and boots
until Stacy again swept them away.
188 THREE PARTNERS.
"Get off, all of you! Now, Phil, you
come with me. The house is full, but I 've
made the manager give you a lady's drawing-
room suite. When you telegraphed you'd
meet us here there was no chance to get
anything else. It 's really Mrs. Van Loo's
family suite ; but they were sent for to go
to Marysville yesterday, and so we '11 run
you in for the night."
" But " protested Demorest.
" Nonsense ! " said Stacy, dragging him
away. " We '11 pay for it ; and I reckon
the old lady won't object to taking her share
of the damage either, or she is n't Van Loo's
mother. Come."
Demorest felt himself hurried forward by
the energetic Stacy, preceded by the obse-
quious manager, through a corridor to a
handsomely furnished suite, into whose bath-
room Stacy incontinently thrust him.
" There ! Wash up ; and by the time
you 're ready Barker ought to be back, and
we '11 have supper. It 's waiting for us in
the other room."
" But how about Barker, the dear boy ? "
persisted Demorest, holding open the door.
" Tell me, is he well and happy ? "
THESE PAETNEES. 189
" About as well as we all are," said Stacy
quickly, yet with a certain dry significance.
" Never mind now ; wait until you see him."
The door closed. When Demorest had
finished washing, and wiped away the last
red stain of the mountain road, he found
Stac}' seated by the window of the larger
sitting-room. In the centre a table was
spread for supper. A bright fire of hickory
logs burnt on a marble hearth between two
large windows that gave upon the distant
outline of Black Spur. As Stacy turned
towards him, by the light of the shaded
lamp and flickering fire, Demorest had a
good look at the face of his old friend and
partner. It was as keen and energetic as
ever, with perhaps an even more hawk-like
activity visible in the eye and nostril ; but it
was more thoughtful and reticent in the
lines of the mouth under the closely clipped
beard and mustache, and when he looked
up, at first there were two deep lines or fur-
rows across his low broad forehead. De-
morest fancied, too, that there was a little of
the old fighting look in his eye, but it soft-
ened quickly as his friend approached, and
he burst out with his curt but honest single-
190 TUBES PARTNERS.
syllabled laugh. " Ha ! You look a little
less like a roving Apache than you did when
you came. I really thought the waiters
were going to chuck you. And you are
tanned ! Darned if you don't look like the
profile stamped on a Continental penny !
But here 's luck and a welcome back, old
man!"
Demorest passed his arm around the neck
of his seated partner, and grasping his up-
raised hand said, looking down with a smile,
" And now about Barker."
" Oh, Barker, d n him ! He 's the
same unshakable, unchangeable, ungrow-up-
able Barker ! With the devil's own luck,
too ! Waltzing into risks and waltzing out
of 'em. With fads enough to put him in
the insane asylum if people did not prefer
to keep him out of it to help 'em. Always
believing in everybody, until they actually
believe in themselves, and shake him !
And he 's got a wife that 's making a fool
of herself, and I should n't wonder in time
-of him!"
Demorest pressed his hand over his part-
ner's mouth. " Come, Jim ! You know you
never really liked that marriage, simply be-
THREE PARTNERS. 191
cause you thought that old man Carter made
a good thing of it. And you never seem to
have taken into consideration the happiness
Barker got out of it. For he did love the
girl. And he still is happy, is he not ? " he
added quickly, as Stacy uttered a grunt.
" As happy as a man can be who has his
child here with a nurse while his wife is
gallivanting in San Francisco, and throwing
her money and Lord knows what else
away at the bidding of a smooth-tongued,
shady operator."
" Does he complain of it ? " asked Demo-
rest.
" Not he ; the fool trusts her ! " said
Stacy curtly.
Demorest laughed. " That is happiness !
Come, Jim ! don't let us begrudge him that.
But I 've heard that his affairs have again
prospered."
"He built this railroad and this hotel.
The bank owns both now. He did n't care
to keep money in them after they were a
success ; said he was n't an engineer nor a
hotel-keeper, and drew it out to find some-
thing new. But here he comes," he added,
as a horseman dashed into the drive before
192 THREE PARTNERS.
the hotel. " Question him yourself. You
know you and he always get along best
without me."
In another moment Barker had burst into
the room, and in his first tempestuous greet-
ing of Demorest the latter saw little change
in his younger partner as he held him at
arm's length to look at him. " Why,
Barker boy, you have n't got a bit older
since the day when you remember you
went over to Boomville to cash your bonds,
and then came back and burst upon us like
this to tell us you were a beggar."
" Yes," laughed Barker, " and all the
while you fellows were holding four aces up
your sleeve in the shape of the big strike."
"And you, Georgy, old boy," returned
Demorest, swinging Barker's two hands
backwards and forwards, " were holding a
royal flush up yours in the shape of your
engagement to Kitty."
The fresh color died out of Barker's
cheek even while the frank laugh was still
on his mouth. He turned his face for a
moment towards the window, and a swift
and almost involuntary glance passed be-
tween the others. But he almost as quickly
THESE PARTNERS. 193
turned his glistening eyes back to Demorest
again, and said eagerly, " Yes, dear Kitty !
You shall see her and the baby to-morrow."
Then they fell upon the supper with the
appetites of the Past, and for some moments
they all talked eagerly and even noisily to-
gether, all at the same time, with even the
spirits of the Past. They recalled every
detail of their old life ; eagerly and impetu-
ously recounted the old struggles, hopes, and
disappointments, gave the strange impor-
tance of schoolboys to unimportant events,
and a mystic meaning to a shibboleth of
their own ; roared over old jokes with a
delight they had never since given to new ;
reawakened idiotic nicknames and bywords
with intense enjoyment ; grew grave, anxious,
and agonized over forgotten names, trifling
dates, useless distances, ineffective records,
and feeble chronicles of their domestic econ-
omy. It was the thoughtful and melancholy
Demorest who remembered the exact color
and price paid for a certain shirt bought
from a Greaser peddler amidst the envy of
his companions ; it was the financial mag-
nate, Stacy, who could inform them what
were the exact days they had saleratus bread
194 THREE PARTNERS.
and when flapjacks ; it was the thoughtless
and mercurial Barker who recalled with un-
heard-of accuracy, amidst the applause of
the others, the full name of the Indian squaw
who assisted at their washing. Even then
they were almost feverishly loath to leave the
subject, as if the Past, at least, was secure
to them still, and they were even doubtful
of their own free and full accord in the
Present. Then they slipped rather reluc-
tantly into their later experiences, but with
scarcely the same freedom or spontaneity ;
and it was noticeable that these records
were elicited from Barker by Stacy or from
Stacy by Barker for the information of
Demorest, often with chaffing and only un-
der good-humored protest. " Tell Demorest
how you broke the ' Copper Ring,' " from
the admiring Barker, or, "Tell Demorest
how your d d foolishness in buying up the
right and plant of the Ditch Company got
you control of the railroad," from the mis-
chievous Stacy, were challenges in point.
Presently they left the table, and, to the
astonishment of the waiters who removed
the cloth, common brier-wood pipes, thought-
fully provided by Barker in commemoration
THREE PARTNERS. 195
of the Past, were lit, and they ranged them-
selves in armchairs before the fire quite
unconsciously in their old attitudes. The
two windows on either side of the hearth
gave them the same view that the open door
of the old cabin had made familiar to them,
the league-long valley below the shadowy
bulk of the Black Spur rising in the dis-
tance, and, still more remote, the pallid
snow-line that soared even beyond its crest.
As in the old time, they were for many
moments silent ; and then, as in the old
tune, it was the irrepressible Barker who
broke the silence. "But Stacy does not tell
you anything about his friend, the beautiful
Mrs. Horncastle. You know he 's the guard-
ian of one of the finest women in California
a woman as noble and generous as she is
handsome. And think of it ! He 's protect-
ing her from her brute of a husband, and
looking after her property. Is n't it good
and chivalrous of him ? "
The irrepressible laughter of the two men
brought only wonder and reproachful indig-
nation into the widely opened eyes of Barker.
He was perfectly sincere. He had been
thinking of Stacy's admiration for Mrs.
196 THREE PARTNERS.
Horncastle in his ride from Boomville, and,
strange to stay, yet characteristic of his
nature, it was equally the natural outcome
of his interview with her and the singular
effect she had upon him. That he (Barker)
thoroughly sympathized with her only con-
vinced him that Stacy must feel the same
for her, and that, no doubt, she must re-
spond to him equally. And how noble it
was in his old partner, with his advantages
of position in the world and his protecting
relations to her, not to avail himself of this
influence upon her generous nature. If he
himself a married man and the husband
of Kitty was so conscious of her charm,
how much greater it must be to the free
and inexperienced Stacy.
The italics were in Barker's thought ; for
in those matters he felt that Stacy and even
Demorest, occupied in other things, had not
his knowledge. There was no idea or con-
sciousness of heroically sacrificing himself or
Mrs. Horncastle in this. I am afraid there
was not even an idea of a superior morality
in himself in giving up the possibility of
loving her. Ever since Stacy had first seen
her he had fancied that Stacy liked her,
THREE PARTNERS. 197
indeed, Kitty fancied it, too, and it seemed
almost providential now that he should know
how to assist his old partner to happiness.
For it was inconceivable that Stacy should
not be able to rescue this woman from her
shameful bonds, or that she should not con-
sent to it through his (Barker's) arguments
and entreaties. To a " champion of dames "
this seemed only right and proper. In his
unfailing optimism he translated Stacy's
laugh as embarrassment and Demorest's as
only ignorance of the real question. But
Demorest had noticed, if he had not, that
Stacy's laugh was a little nervously pro-
longed for a man of his temperament, and
that he had cast a very keen glance at
Barker. A messenger arriving with a tele-
gram brought from Boomville called Stacy
momentarily away, and Barker was not slow
to take advantage of his absence.
" I wish, Phil," he said, hitching his chair
closer to Demorest, " that you would think
seriously of this matter, and try to persuade
Stacy who, I believe, is more interested
in Mrs. Horncastle than he cares to show
to put a little of that determination in love
that he has shown in business. She 's an
198 THREE PARTNERS.
awfully fine woman, and in every way suited
to him, and he is letting an absurd sense of
pride and honor keep him from influencing
her to get rid of her impossible husband.
There's no reason," continued Barker in
a burst of enthusiastic simplicity, "that
because she has found some one she likes
better, and who would treat her better, that
she should continue to stick to that beast
whom all California would gladly see her
divorced from. I never could understand
that kind of argument, could you ? "
Demorest looked at his companion's glow-
ing cheek and kindling eye with a smile.
" A good deal depends upon the side from
which you argue. But, frankly, Barker
boy, though I think I know you in all your
phases, I am not prepared yet to accept you
as a match-maker ! However, I '11 think it
over, and find out something more of this
from your goddess, who seems to have be-
witched you both. But what does Mistress
Kitty say to your admiration ? "
Barker's face clouded, but instantly bright-
ened. " Oh, they 're the best of friends ;
they 're quite like us, you know, even to
larks they have together." He stopped and
THREE PARTNERS. 199
colored at his slip. But Demorest, who had
noticed his change of expression, was more
concerned at the look of half incredulity and
half suspicion with which Stacy, who had
reentered the room in time to hear Bar-
ker's speech, was regarding his unconscious
younger partner.
" I did n't know that Mrs. Horncastle and
Mrs. Barker were such friends," he said
dryly as he sat down again. But his face
presently became so abstracted that Demo-
rest said gayly :
" Well, Jim, I 'm glad I 'm not a Napo-
leon of Finance! I couldn't stand it to
have my privacy or my relaxation broken in
upon at any moment, as yours was just now.
What confounded somersault in stocks has
put that face on you ? "
Stacy looked up quickly with his brief
laugh. " I 'm afraid you 'd be none the
wiser if I told you. That was a pony ex-
press messenger from New York. You re-
member how Barker, that night of the strike,
when we were sitting together here, or very
near here, proposed that we ought to have a
password or a symbol to call us together in
case of emergency, for each other's help?
200 THREE PARTNERS.
Well, let us say I have two partners, one in
Europe and one in New York. That was
my password."
" And, I hope, no more serious than ours,"
added Demorest.
Stacy laughed his short laugh. Never-
theless, the conversation dragged again. The
feverish gayety of the early part of the even-
ing was gone, and they seemed to be suffer-
ing from the reaction. They fell into their
old attitudes, looking from the firelight to
the distant bulk of Black Spur without a
word. The occasional sound of the voices of
promenaders on the veranda at last ceased ;
there was the noise of the shutting of heavy
doors below, and Barker rose.
" You '11 excuse me, boys ; but I must go
and say good-night to little Sta, and see that
he's all right. I haven't seen him since
I got back. But " to Demorest " you '11
see him to-morrow, when Kitty comes. It is
as much as my life is worth to show him
before she certifies him as being presentable."
lie paused, and then added : " Don't wait up,
you fellows, for me ; sometimes the little chap
won't let me go. It 's as if he thought, now
Kitty 's away, I was all he had. But I '11
THREE PARTNERS. 201
be up early in the morning and see you. 1
dare say you and Stacy have a heap to say to
each other on business, and you won't miss
me. So I '11 say good-night." He laughed
lightly, pressed the hands of his partners in
his usual hearty fashion, and went out of the
room, leaving the gloom a little deeper than
before. It was so unusual for Barker to be
the first to leave anybody or anything in
trouble that they both noticed it. " But for
that," said Demorest, turning to Stacy as the
door closed, " I should say the dear fellow
was absolutely unchanged. But he seemed
a little anxious to-night."
" I should n't wonder. He 's got two
women on his mind, as if one was not
enough."
" I don't understand. You say his wife
is foolish, and this other "
" Never mind that now," interrupted
Stacy, getting up and putting down his
pipe. " Let 's talk a little business. That
other stuff will keep."
" By all means," said Demorest, with a
smile, settling down into his chair a little
wearily, however. " I forgot business. And
I forgot, my dear Jim, to congratulate you.
202 THREE PARTNERS.
I 've heard all about you, even in New York.
You 're the man who, according to every-
body, now holds the finances of the Pacific
Slope in his hands. And," he added, lean-
ing affectionately towards his old partner,
" I don't know any one better equipped in
honesty, straightforwardness, and courage for
such a responsibility than you."
" I only wish," said Stacy, looking thought-
fully at Demorest, " that I did n't hold
nearly a million of your money included in
the finances of the Pacific Slope."
" Why," said the smiling Demorest, " as
long as I am satisfied ? "
" Because / am not. If you 're satisfied,
I'm a wretched idiot and not fit for my
position. Now, look here, Phil. When you
wrote me to sell out your shares in the
Wheat Trust I was a little staggered. I
knew your gait, my boy, and I knew, too,
that, while you did n't know enough to trust
your own opinions or feeling, you knew too
much to trust any one's opinion that was n't
first-class. So I reckoned you had the
straight tip ; but / did n't see it. Now, I
ought not to have been staggered if I was
fit for your confidence, or, if I was staggered,
THREE PARTNERS. 203
I ought to have had enough confidence in
myself not to mind you. See ? "
" I admit your logic, old man," said De-
morest, with an amused face, " but I don't
see your premises. When did I tell you to
sellout?"
"Two days ago. You wrote just after
you arrived."
" I have never written to you since I
arrived. I only telegraphed to you to know
where we should meet, and received your
message to come here."
"You never wrote me from San Fran-
cisco ? "
" Never."
Stacy looked concernedly at his friend.
Was he in his right mind ? He had heard
of cases where melancholy brooding on a
fixed idea had affected the memory. He
took from his pocket a letter -case, and
selecting a letter handed it to Demorest
without speaking.
Demorest glanced at it, turned it over,
read its contents, and in a grave voice said,
44 There is something wrong here. It is like
my handwriting, but I never wrote the let-
ter, nor has it been in my hand before."
204 THESE PARTNERS.
Stacy sprang to his side. " Then it 's a
forgery ! "
" Wait a moment." Demorest, who, al-
though very grave, was the more collected
of the two, went to a writing-desk, selected a
sheet of paper, and took up a pen. " Now,"
he said, " dictate that letter to me."
Stacy began, Demorest's pen rapidly fol-
lowing him :
" DEAR JIM, On receipt of this get rid
of my Wheat Trust shares at whatever fig-
ure you can. From the way things pointed
in New York"
" Stop ! " interrupted Demorest.
" Well ? " said Stacy impatiently.
" Now, my dear Jim," said Demorest
plaintively, " when did you ever know me
to write such a sentence as ' the way things
pointed ' ? "
" Let me finish reading," said Stacy.
This literary sensitiveness at such a moment
seemed little short of puerility to the man of
business.
" From the way things pointed in New
York," continued Stacy, " and from pri-
vate advices received, this seems to be the
only prudent course before the feathers
THREE PARTNERS. 205
begin to fly. Longing to see you again and
the dear old stamping-ground at Heavy
Tree. Love to Barker. Has the dear old
boy been at any fresh crank lately ?
"Yours, PHIL DEMOREST."
The dictation and copy finished together.
Demorest laid the freshly written sheet be-
side the letter Stacy had produced. They
were very much alike and yet quite distinct
from each other. Only the signature seemed
identical.
" That 's the invariable mistake with the
forger," said Demorest ; " he always forgets
that signatures ought to be identical with
the text rather than with each other."
But Stacy did not seem to hear this or
require further proof. His face was quite
gray and his lips compressed until lost in
his closely set beard as he gazed fixedly out
of the window. For the first time, really
concerned and touched, Demorest laid his
hand gently on his shoulder.
" Tell me, Jim, how much does this mean
to you apart from me ? Don't think of
me."
" I don't know yet," said Stacy slowly.
" That 's the trouble. And I won't know
206 THREE PARTNERS.
until I know who 's at the bottom of it.
Does anybody know of your affairs with
me?"
" No one."
" No confidential friend, eh ? "
" None."
" No one who has access to your secrets ?
No no woman ? Excuse me, Phil," he
said, as a peculiar look passed over Demo-
rest's face, " but this is business."
" No," he returned, with that gentleness
that used to frighten them in the old days,
" it 's ignorance. You fellows always say
4 Cherchez la femme ' when you can't say
anything else. Come now," he went on
more brightly, " look at the letter. Here 's
a man, commercially educated, for he has
used the usual business formulas, * on re-
ceipt of this,' and ' advices received,' which
I won't merely say I don't use, but which
few but commercial men use. Next, here 's
a man who uses slang, not only ineptly,
but artificially, to give the letter the easy,
familiar turn it has n't from beginning to
end. I need only say, my dear Stacy, that
I don't write slang to you, but that nobody
who understands slang ever writes it in that
THREE PARTNERS. 207
way. And then the knowledge of my
opinion of Barker is such as might be gained
from the reading of my letters by a per-
son who could n't comprehend my feelings.
Now, let me play inquisitor for a few mo-
ments. Has anybody access to my letters to
you ? "
" No one. I keep them locked up in a
cabinet. I only make memorandums of
your instructions, which I give to my clerks,
but never your letters."
" But your clerks sometimes see you make
memorandums from them ? "
" Yes, but none of them have the ability
to do this sort of thing, nor the opportunity
of profiting by it."
" Has any woman now this is not retali-
ation, my dear Jim, for I fancy I detect a
woman's cleverness and a woman's stupidity
in this forgery any access to your secrets
or my letters ? A woman's villainy is always
effective for the moment, but always defec-
tive when probed."
The look of scorn which passed over
Stacy's face was quite as distinct as Demo-
rest's previous protest, as he said contempt-
uously, " I 'm not such a fool as to mix
208 THREE PARTNERS.
up petticoats with my business, whatever I
do."
" Well, one thing more. I have told you
that in my opinion the forger has a commer-
cial education or style, that he does n't know
me nor Barker, and don't understand slang.
Now, I have to add what must have occurred
to you, Jim, that the forger is either a
coward, or his object is not altogether mer-
cenary : for the same ability displayed in this
letter would on the signature alone had it
been on a check or draft have drawn
from your bank twenty times the amount
concerned. Now, what is the actual loss
by this forgery?"
" Very little ; for you 've got a good
price for your stocks, considering the depre-
ciation in realizing suddenly on so large an
amount. I told my broker to sell slowly
and in small quantities to avoid a panic.
But the real loss is the control of the stock."
" But the amount I had was not enough
to affect that," said Demorest.
" No, but I was carrying a large amount
myself, and together we controlled the mar-
ket, and now I have unloaded, too."
" You sold out ! and with your doubts ? "
said Deraore^t.
THREE PARTNERS. 209
" That 's just it," said Stacy, looking
steadily at his companion's face, " because I
had doubts, and it won't do for me to have
them. I ought either to have disobeyed
your letter and kept your stock and my own,
or have done just what I did. I might
have hedged on my own stock, but I don't
believe in hedging. There is no middle
course to a man in my business if he wants
to keep at the top. No great success, no
great power, was ever created by it."
Demorest smiled. " Yet you accept the
alternative also, which is ruin ? "
" Precisely," said Stacy. " When you
returned the other day you were bound to
find me what I was or a beggar. But no-
thing between. However," he added, " this
has nothing to do with the forgery, or," he
smiled grimly, " everything to do with it.
Hush ! Barker is coming."
There was a quick step along the corridor
approaching the room. The next moment
the door flew open to the bounding step and
laughing face of Barker. Whatever of
thoughtfulness or despondency he had car-
ried from the room with him was completely
gone. With his amazing buoyancy and
210 THREE PARTNERS.
power of reaction he was there again in his
usual frank, cheerful simplicity.
" I thought I 'd come in and say good-
night," he began, with a laugh. " I got
Sta asleep after some high jinks we had
together, and then I reckoned it was n't the
square thing to leave just you two together,
the first night you came. And I remem-
bered I had some business to talk over, too,
so I thought I 'd chip in again and take a
hand. It 's only the shank of the evening
yet," he continued gayly, " and we ought to
sit up at least long enough to see the old
snow-line vanish, as we did in old times.
But I say," he added suddenly, as he glanced
from the one to the other, " you 've been
having it pretty strong already. Why, you
both look as you did that night the back-
water of the South Fork came into our
cabin. What 'sup?"
" Nothing," said Demorest hastily, as he
caught a glance of Stacy's impatient face.
" Only all business is serious, Barker boy,
though you don't seem to feel it so."
" I reckon you 're right there," said Bar-
ker, with a chuckle. " People always laugh,
of course, when I talk business, so it might
THREE PARTNERS. 211
make it a little livelier for you and more of
a change if I chipped in now. Only I don't
know which you '11 do. Hand me a pipe.
Well," he continued, filling the pipe Demo-
rest shoved towards him, " you see, I was in
Sacramento yesterday, and I went into Van
Loo's branch office, as I heard he was there,
and I wanted to find out something about
Kitty's investments, which I don't think he 's
managing exactly right. He was n't there,
however, but as I was waiting I heard his
clerks talk about a drop in the Wheat Trust,
and that there was a lot of it put upon the
market. They seemed to think that some-
thing had happened, and it was going down
still further. Now I knew it was your pet
scheme, and that Phil had a lot of shares in
it, too, so I just slipped out and went to a
broker's and told him to buy all he could of
it. And, by Jove! I was a little taken
aback when I found what I was in for, for
everybody seemed to have unloaded, and I
found I had n't money enough to pay mar-
gins, but I knew that Demorest was here,
and I reckoned on his seeing me through."
He stopped and colored, but added hope-
fully, " I reckon I 'm safe, anyway, for just
212 THESE PARTNERS.
as the thing was over those same clerks of
Van Loo's came bounding into the office to
buy up everything. And offered to take it
off my hands and pay the margins."
" And you ? " said both men eagerly, and
in a breath.
Barker stared at them, and reddened and
paled by turns. " I held on," he stam-
mered. " You see, boys "
Both men had caught him by the arms.
** How much have you got ? " they said,
shaking him as if to precipitate the answer.
" It 's a heap ! " said Barker. " It 's a
ghastly lot now I think of it. I 'm afraid
I 'm in for fifty thousand, if a cent."
To his infinite astonishment and delight
he was alternately hugged and tossed back-
wards and forwards between the two men
quite in the fashion of the old days. Breath-
less but laughing, he at length gasped out,
" What does it all mean? "
" Tell him everything, Jim, everything,"
said Demorest quickly.
Stacy briefly related the story of the for-
gery, and then laid the letter and its copy
before him. But Barker only read the
forgery.
THEEE PARTNERS. 213
" How could you, Stacy one of the
three partners of Heavy Tree be deceived !
Don't you see it 's Phil's handwriting but
it is n't Phil ! "
" But have you any idea who it is ? " said
Stacy.
"Not me," said Barker, with widely
opened eyes. " You see it must be some-
body whom we are familiar with. I can't
imagine such a scoundrel."
" How did you know that Demorest had
stock ? " asked Stacy.
" He told me in one of his letters and
advised me to go into it. But just then
Kitty wanted money, I think, and I did n't
go in."
" I remember it," struck in Demorest.
" But surely it was no secret. My name
would be on the transfer books for any one
to see."
" Not so," said Stacy quickly. " You
were one of the original shareholders ; there
was no transfer, and the books as well as
the shares of the company were in my
hands."
" And your clerks ? " added Demorest.
Stacy was silent. After a pause he
214 THREE PARTNERS.
asked, " Did anybody ever see that letter,
Barker ? "
" No one but myself and Kitty."
" And would she be likely to talk of it ? "
continued Stacy.
" Of course not. Why should she ?
Whom could she talk to ? " Yet he stopped
suddenly, and then with his characteristic
reaction added, with a laugh, " Why no, cer-
tainly not."
" Of course, everybody knew that you
had bought the shares at Sacramento ? "
" Yes. Why, you know I told you the
Van Loo clerks came to me and wanted to
take it off my hands."
" Yes, I remember ; the Van Loo clerks ;
they knew it, of course," said Stacy with a
grim smile. "Well, boys," he said, with
sudden alacrity, " I 'm going to turn in, for
by sun-up to-morrow I must be on my way
to catch the first train at the Divide for
'Frisco. We '11 hunt this thing down to-
gether, for I reckon we 're all concerned in
it," he added, looking at the others, " and
once more we 're partners as in the old times.
Let us even say that I 've given Barker's
signal or password," he added, with a laugh,
THREE PARTNERS. 215
" and we '11 stick together. Barker boy,"
he went on, grasping his younger partner's
hand, " your instinct has saved us this time ;
d d if I don't sometimes think it better
than any other man's sabe ; only," he
dropped his voice slightly, " I wish you had
it in other things than finance. Phil, I 've
a word to say to you alone before I go. I
may want you to follow me."
" But what can I do ? " said Barker
eagerly. " You 're not going to leave me
out."
" You 've done quite enough for us, old
man," said Stacy, laying his hand on Bar-
ker's shoulder. " And it may be for us to
do something for you. Trot off to bed now,
like a good boy. I '11 keep you posted when
the time comes."
Shoving the protesting and leave-taking
Barker with paternal familiarity from the
room, he closed the door and faced Demorest.
" He 's the best fellow in the world," said
Stacy quietly, " and has saved the situation ;
but we mustn't trust too much to him for
the present not even seem to."
" Nonsense, man ! " said Demorest impa-
tiently. " You 're letting your prejudices
216 THESE PARTNERS.
go too far. Do you mean to say that you
suspect his wife."
" D n his wife ! " said Stacy almost sav-
agely. " Leave her out of this. It 's Van
Loo that I suspect. It was Van Loo who
I knew was behind it, who expected to profit
by it, and now we have lost him."
" But how? " said Demorest, astonished.
" How ? " repeated Stacy impatiently.
" You know what Barker said ? Van Loo,
either through stupidity, fright, or the wish
to get the lowest prices, was too late to buy
up the market. If he had, we might have
openly declared the forgery, and if it was
known that he or his friends had profited by
it, even if we could not have proven his
actual complicity, we could at least have
made it too hot for him in California. But,"
said Stacy, looking intently at his friend,
" do you know how the case stands now ? "
" Well," said Demorest, a little uneasily
under his friend's keen eyes, " we 've lost
that chance, but we 've kept control of the
stock."
" You think so ? Well, let me tell you
how the case stands and the price we pay
for it," said Stacy deliberately, as he folded
THREE PARTNERS. 217
his arms and gazed at Demorest. "You
and I, well known as old friends and former
partners, for no apparent reason for we
cannot prove the forgery now have thrown
upon the market all our stock, with the
usual effect of depreciating it. Another old
friend and former partner has bought it in
and sent up the price. A common trick, a
vulgar trick, but not a trick worthy of James
Stacy or Stacy's Bank ! "
" But why not simply declare the forgery
without making any specific charge against
Van Loo?"
"Do you imagine, Phil, that any man
would believe it, and the story of a providen-
tially appointed friend like Barker who saved
us from loss? Why, all California, from
Cape Mendocino to Los Angeles, would roar
with laughter over it ! No ! We must swal-
low it and the reputation of 'jockeying'
with the Wheat Trust, too. That Trust 's as
good as done for, for the present ! Now you
know why I didn't want poor Barker to
know it, nor have much to do with our
search for the forger."
" It would break the dear fellow's heart if
he knew it," said Demorest.
218 THESE PARTNERS.
" Well, it 's to save him from having his
heart broken further that I intend to find
out this forger," said Stacy grimly. " Good-
night, Phil ! I '11 telegraph to you when I
want you, and then come ! "
With another grip of the hand he left
Demorest to his thoughts. In the first ex-
citement of meeting his old partners, and in
the later discovery of the forgery, Demorest
had been diverted from his old sorrow, and
for the tune had forgotten it hi sympathetic
interest with the present. But, to his hor-
ror, when alone again, he found that interest
growing as remote and vapid as the stories
they had laughed over at the table, and even
the excitement of the forged letter and its
consequences began to be as unreal, as im-
potent, as shadowy, as the memory of the
attempted robbery in the old cabin on that
very spot. He was ashamed of that selfish-
ness which still made him cling to this past,
so much his own, that he knew it debarred
him from the human sympathy of his com-
rades. And even Barker, in whose court-
ship and marriage he had tried to resuscitate
his youthful emotions and condone his selfish
errors even the suggestion of his unhappi-
THREE PARTNERS. 219
ness only touched him vaguely. He would
no longer be a slave to the Past, or the
memory that had deluded him a few hours
ago. He walked to the window ; alas, there
was the same prospect that had looked upon
his dreams, had lent itself to his old visions.
There was the eternal outline of the hills ;
there rose the steadfast pines ; there was no
change in them. It was this surrounding
constancy of nature that had affected him.
He turned away and entered the bedroom.
Here he suddenly remembered that the
mother of this vague enemy, Van Loo, for
his feeling towards him was still vague, as
few men really hate the personality they
don't know, had only momentarily vacated
it, and to his distaste of his own intrusion
was now added the profound irony of his
sleeping in the same bed lately occupied by
the mother of the man who was suspected of
having forged his name. He smiled faintly
and looked around the apartment. It was
handsomely furnished, and although it still
had much of the characterlessness of the
hotel room, it was distinctly flavored by its
last occupant, and still brightened by that
mysterious instinct of the sex which is inevi-
220 THESE PARTNERS.
table. Where a man would have simply
left his forgotten slippers or collars there
was a glass of still unf aded flowers ; the cold
marble top of the dressing-table was littered
with a few linen and silk toilet covers ; and
on the mantel-shelf was a sheaf of photo-
graphs. He walked towards them mechan-
ically, glanced at them abstractedly, and then
stopped suddenly with a beating heart.
Before him was the picture of his past, the
photograph of the one woman who had filled
his life !
He cast a hurried glance around the room
as if he half expected to see the original
start up before him, and then eagerly seized
it and hurried with it to the light. Yes!
yes ! It was she, she as she had lived in
his actual memory ; she as she had lived in
his dream. He saw her sweet eyes, but the
frightened, innocent trouble had passed from
them ; there was the sensitive elegance of
her graceful figure in evening dress ; but the
figure was fuller and maturer. Could he be
mistaken by some wonderful resemblance
acting upon his too willing brain ? He
turned the photograph over. No ; there on
the other side, written in her own childlike
THREE PARTNERS. 221
hand, endeared and familiar to his recollec-
tion, was her own name, and the date ! It
was surely she !
How did it come there? Did the Van
Loos know her ? It was taken in Venice ;
there was the address of the photographers.
The Van Loos were foreigners, he remem-
bered ; they had traveled ; perhaps had met
her there in 1858 : that was the date in her
handwriting ; that was the date on the pho-
tographer's address 1858. Suddenly he
laid the photograph down, took with trem-
bling fingers a letter-case from his pocket,
opened it, and laid his last letter to her, in-
dorsed with the cruel announcement of her
death, before him on the table. He passed
his hand across his forehead and opened the
letter. It was dated 1856 ! The photograph
must have been taken two years after her
alleged death !
He examined it again eagerly, fixedly,
tremblingly. A wild impulse to summon
Barker or Stacy on the spot was restrained
with difficulty and only when he remembered
that they could not help him. Then he be-
gan to oscillate between a joy and a new fear,
which now, for the first time, began to dawn
222 THREE PARTNERS.
upon him. If the news of her death had
been a fiendish trick of her relations, why
had . she never sought him ? It was not ill
health, restraint, nor fear ; there was nothing
but happiness and the strength of youth
and beauty in that face and figure. He, had
not disappeared from the world ; he was
known of men ; more, his memorable good
fortune must have reached her ears. Had
he wasted all these miserable years to find
himself abandoned, forgotten, perhaps even
a dupe? For the first time the sting of
jealousy entered his soul. Perhaps, uncon-
sciously to himself, his strange and varying
feelings that afternoon had been the gather-
ing climax of his mental condition ; at all
events, in the sudden revulsion there was a
shaking off of his apathetic thought ; there
was activity, even if it was the activity of
pain. Here was a mystery to be solved, a
secret to be discovered, a past wrong to be
exposed, an enemy or, perhaps, even a faith-
less love to be punished. Perhaps he had
even saved his reason at the expense of his
love. He quickly replaced the photograph
on the mantel-shelf, returned the letter care-
fully to his pocket-book, no longer a sou-
THESE PARTNERS. 223
tenir of the past, but a proof of treachery,
and began to mechanically undress him-
self. He was quite calm now, and went to
bed with a strange sense of relief, and slept
as he had not slept since he was a boy.
The whole hotel had sunk to rest by this
time, and then began the usual slow, nightly
invasion and investment of it by nature.
For all its broad verandas and glaring ter-
races, its long ranges of windows and glit-
tering crest of cupola and tower, it gradually
succumbed to the more potent influences
around it, and became their sport and play-
ground. The mountain breezes from the
distant summit swept down upon its flimsy
structure, shook the great glass windows as
with a strong hand, and sent the balm of
bay and spruce through every chink and
cranny. In the great hall and corridors the
carpets billowed with the intruding blast
along the floors ; there was the murmur of
the pines in the passages, and the damp
odor of leaves in the dining-room. There
was the cry of night birds in the creaking
cupola, and the swift rush of dark wings
past bedroom windows. Lissome shapes
crept along the terraces between the stolid
224 THREE PARTNERS.
wooden statues, or, bolder, scampered the
whole length of the great veranda. In the
lulling of the wind the breath of the woods
was everywhere ; even the aroma of swelling
sap as if the ghastly stumps on the defor-
ested slope behind the hotel were bleeding
afresh in the dewless night stung the eyes
and nostrils of the sleepers.
It was, perhaps, from such cause as this
that Barker was awakened suddenly by the
voice of the boy from the crib beside him,
crying, " Mamma ! mamma ! " Taking the
child in his arms, he comforted him, saying
she would come that morning, and showed
him the faint dawn already veiling with
color the ghostly pallor of the Sierras. As
they looked at it a great star shot forth from
its brethren and fell. It did not fall per-
pendicularly, but seemed for some seconds
to slip along the slopes of Black Spur,
gleaming through the trees like a chariot of
fire. It pleased the child to say that it was
the light of mamma's buggy that was fetch-
ing her home, and it pleased the father
to encourage the boy's fancy. And talking
thus in confidential whispers they fell asleep
once more, the father himself a child in
THESE PARTNERS. 225
so many things holding the smaller and
frailer hand in his.
They did not know that on the other
side of the Divide the wife and mother,
scared, doubting, and desperate, by the side
of her scared, doubting, and desperate accom-
plice, was flying down the slope on her
night-long road to ruin. Still less did they
know that, with the early singing birds, a
careless horseman, emerging from the trail
as the dust-stained buggy dashed past him,
glanced at it with a puzzled air, uttered a
quiet whistle of surprise, and then, wheeling
his horse, gayly cantered after it.
CHAPTER V.
IN the exercise of his arduous profession,
Jack Hamlin had sat up all night in the
magnolia saloon of the Divide, and as it
was rather early to go to bed, he had, after
his usual habit, shaken off the sedentary
attitude and prepared himself for sleep by
a fierce preliminary gallop in the woods.
Besides, he had been a large winner, and on
those occasions he generally isolated himself
from his companions to avoid foolish alter-
cations with inexperienced players. Even
in fighting Jack was fastidious, and did not
like to have his stomach for a real difficulty
distended and vitiated by small preliminary
indulgences.
He was just emerging from the wood into
the highroad when a buggy dashed past
him, containing a man and a woman. The
woman wore a thick veil ; the man was
almost undistinguishable from dust. The
glimpse was momentary, but dislike has a
THREE PARTNERS. 227
keen eye, and in that glimpse Mr. Hamlin
recognized Van Loo. The situation was
equally clear. The bent heads and averted
faces, the dust collected in the heedlessness
of haste, the early hour, indicating a
night-long flight, all made it plain to him
that Van Loo was running away with some
woman. Mr. Hamlin had no moral scruples,
but he had the ethics of a sportsman, which
he knew Mr. Van Loo was not. Whether
the woman was an innocent schoolgirl or an
actress, he was satisfied that Van Loo was
doing a mean thing meanly. Mr. Hamlin
also had a taste for mischief, and whether
the woman was or was not fair game, he
knew that for his purposes Van Loo was.
With the greatest cheerfulness in the world
he wheeled his horse and cantered after
them.
They were evidently making for the
Divide and a fresh horse, or to take the
coach due an hour later. It was Mr. Ham-
lin's present object to circumvent this, and,
therefore, it was quite in his way to return.
Incidentally, however, the superior speed of
his horse gave him the opportunity of fre-
quently lunging towards them at a furious
228 THREE PARTNERS.
pace, which had the effect of frantically in-
creasing their own speed, when he would
pull up with a silent laugh before he was
fairly discovered, and allow the sound of his
rapid horse's hoofs to die out. In this way
he amused himself until the straggling town
of the Divide came in sight, when, putting
his spurs to his horse again, he managed,
under pretense of the animal becoming un-
governable, to twice "cross the bows " of the
fugitives, compelling them to slacken speed.
At the second of these passages Van Loo
apparently lost prudence, and slashing out
with his whip, the lash caught slightly on
the counter of Hainliii's horse. Mr. Ham-
lin instantly acknowledged it by lifting his
hat gravely, and speeded on to the hotel,
arriving at the steps and throwing himself
from the saddle exactly as the buggy drove
up. With characteristic audacity, he ac-
tually assisted the frightened and eager wo-
man to alight and run into the hotel. But
in this action her veil was accidentally lifted.
Mr. Hamlin instantly recognized the pretty
woman who had been pointed out to him in
San Francisco as Mrs. Barker, the wife of
one of the partners whose fortunes had im-
THESE PARTNERS. 229
terested him five years ago. It struck him
that this was an additional reason for his
interference on Barker's account, although
personally he could not conceive why a man
should ever try to prevent a woman from
running away from him. But then Mr.
Hamlin's personal experiences had been
quite the other way.
It was enough, however, to cause him to
lay his hand lightly on Van Loo's arm as
the latter, leaping down, was about to follow
Mrs. Barker into the hotel. " You '11 have
time enough now," said Hamlin.
"Tune for what?" said Van Loo sav-
agely.
"Time to apologize for having cut my
horse with your whip," said Jack sweetly.
"We don't want to quarrel before a wo-
man."
" I 've no time for fooling ! " said Van
Loo, endeavoring to pass.
But Jack's hand had slipped to Van
Loo's wrist, although he still smiled cheer-
fully. " Ah ! Then you did mean it, and
you propose to give me satisfaction ? "
Van Loo paled slightly ; he knew Jack's
reputation as a duelist. But he was des-
230 THREE PARTNERS.
perate. " You see my position," he said
hurriedly. " I 'm in a hurry ; I have a
lady with me. No man of honor "
" You do me wrong," interrupted Jack,
with a pained expression, "you do, in-
deed. You are in a hurry well, I have
plenty of tune. If you cannot attend to
me now, why I will be glad to accompany
you and the lady to the next station. Of
course," he added, with a smile, " at a proper
distance, and without interfering with the
lady, whom I am pleased to recognize as the
wife of an old friend. It would be more
sociable, perhaps, if we had some general
conversation on the road ; it would prevent
her being alarmed. I might even be of
some use to you. If we are overtaken by
her husband on the road, for instance, I
should certainly claim the right to have the
first shot at you. Boy ! " he called to the
hostler, "just sponge out Pancho's mouth,
will you, to be ready when the buggy
goes?" And, loosening his grip of Van
Loo's wrist, he turned away as the other
quickly entered the hotel.
But Mr. Van Loo did not immediately
seek Mrs. Barker. He had already some
THREE PARTNERS. 231
experience of that lady's nerves and irasci-
bility on the drive, and had begun to see his
error in taking so dangerous an impediment
to his flight from the country. And another
idea had come to him. He had already
effected his purpose of compromising her
with him in that flight, but it was still
known only to few. If he left her behind
for the foolish, doting husband, would not
that devoted man take her back to avoid a
scandal, and even forbear to pursue him for
his financial irregularities? What were
twenty thousand dollars of Mrs. Barker's
money to the scandal of Mrs. Barker's
elopement? Again, the failure to realize
the forgery had left him safe, and Barker
was sufficiently potent with the bank and
Demorest to hush up that also. Hamlin
was now the only obstacle to his flight ; but
even he would scarcely pursue him if Mrs.
Barker were left behind. And it would be
easier to elude him if he did.
In his preoccupation Van Loo did not see
that he had entered the bar-room, but, find-
ing himself there, he moved towards the
bar; a glass of spirits would revive him.
As he drank it he saw that the room was
232 THREE PARTNERS.
full of rough men, apparently miners OP
packers some of them Mexican, with here
and there a Kanaka or Australian. Two
men more ostentatiously clad, though appar-
ently on equal terms with the others, were
standing in the corner with their backs
towards him. From the general silence as
he entered he imagined that he had been the
subject of conversation, and that his alter-
cation with Hamlin had been overheard.
Suddenly one of the two men turned and
approached him. To his consternation he
recognized Steptoe, Steptoe, whom he had
not seen for five years until last night, when
he had avoided him in the courtyard of the
Boomville Hotel. His first instinct was to
retreat, but it was too late. And the spirits
had warmed him into temporary reckless-
ness.
" You ain't goin' to be backed down by a
short-card gambler, are yer ? " said Steptoe,
with coarse familiarity.
" I have a lady with me, and am pressed
for time," said Van Loo quickly. " He
knows it, otherwise he would not have
dared "
"Well, look here," said Steptoe roughly.
THREE PARTNERS. 233
" I ain't particularly sweet on you, as you
know ; but I and these gentlemen," he added,
glancing around the room, " ain't particu-
larly sweet on Mr. Jack Hamlin neither,
and we kalkilate to stand by you if you say
so. Now, I reckon you want to get away
with the woman, and the quicker the better,
as you 're afraid there '11 be somebody after
you afore long. That 's the way it pans out,
don't it ? Well, when you 're ready to go,
and you just tip us the wink, we '11 get in a
circle round Jack and cover him, and if he
starts after you we '11 send him on a little
longer journey ! eh, boys ? "
The men muttered their approval, and one
or two drew their revolvers from their belts.
Van Loo's heart, which had leaped at first
at this proposal of help, sank at this failure
of his little plan of abandoning Mrs. Barker.
He hesitated, and then stammered, " Thank
you ! Haste is everything with us now ;
but I should n't mind leaving the lady among
chivalrous gentlemen like yourselves for a
few hours only, until I could communicate
with my friends and return to properly chas-
tise this scoundrel."
Steptoe drew in his breath with a slight
234 THREE PARTNERS.
whistle, and gazed at Van Loo. He instantly
understood him. But the plea did not suit
Steptoe, who, for purposes of his own, wished
to put Mrs. Barker beyond her husband's
possible reach. He smiled grimly. " I
think you 'd better take the woman with
you," he said. " I don't think," he added
in a lower voice, " that the boys would like
your leaving her. They 're very high-toned,
they are ! " he concluded ironically.
" Then," said Van Loo, with another des-
perate idea, " could you not let us have
saddle-horses instead of the buggy? We
could travel faster, and in the event of pur-
suit and anything happening to me," he
added loftily, " she at least could escape her
pursuer's vengeance."
This suited Steptoe equally well, as long
as the guilty couple fled together, and in
the presence of witnesses. But he was not
deceived by Van Loo's heroic suggestion of
self-sacrifice. " Quite right," he said sarcas-
tically, " it shall be done, and I 've no doubt
one of you will escape. I '11 send the horses
round to the back door and keep the buggy
in front. That will keep Jack there, too,
with the boys handy."
THESE PARTNERS. 235
But Mr. Hamlin had quite as accurate an
idea of Mr. Van Loo's methods and of his
awn standing with Steptoe's gang of roughs
as Mr. Steptoe himself. More than that,
he also had a hold on a smaller but more
devoted and loyal following than Steptoe's.
The employees and hostlers of the hotel
worshiped him. A single word of inquiry
revealed to him the fact that the buggy was
not going on, but that Mr. Van Loo and
Mrs. Barker were on two horses, a tem-
porary side-saddle having been constructed
out of a mule's pack-tree. At which Mr.
Hamlin, with his usual audacity, walked into
the bar-room, and going to the bar leaned
carelessly against it. Then turning to the
lowering faces around him, he said, with a
flash of his white teeth, " Well, boys, I 'm
calculating to leave the Divide in a few
minutes to follow some friends in the buggy,
and it seems to me only the square thing
to stand the liquor for the crowd, without
prejudice to any feeling or roughness there
may be against me. Everybody who knows
me knows that I 'm generally there when the
band plays, and I 'm pretty sure to turn up
for that sort of tiling. So you '11 just con-
236 THESE PARTNERS.
sider that I 've had a good game on the
Divide, and I 'm reckoning it 's only fair to
leave a little of it behind me here, to
4 sweeten the pot ' until I call again. I
only ask you, gentlemen, to drink success to
my friends in the buggy as early and as
often as you can." He flung two gold pieces
on the counter and paused, smiling.
He was right in his conjecture. Even
the men who would have willingly " held
him up " a moment after, at the bidding of
Steptoe, saw no reason for declining a free
drink " without prejudice." And it was a
part of the irony of the situation that Step-
toe and Van Loo were also obliged to parti-
cipate to keep in with their partisans. It
was, however, an opportune diversion to Van
Loo, who managed to get nearer the door
leading to the back entrance of the hotel,
and to Mr. Jack Hamlin, who was watching
him, as the men closed up to the bar.
The toast was drunk with acclamation,
followed by another and yet another. Step-
toe and Van Loo, who had kept their heads
cool, were both wondering if Hanilin's inten-
tion were to intoxicate and incapacitate the
crowd at the crucial moment, and Steptoe
THREE PARTNERS. 237
smiled grimly over his superior knowledge of
their alcoholic capacity. But suddenly there
was the greater diversion of a shout from
the road, the on-coming of a cloud of red
dust, and the halt of another vehicle before
the door. This time it was no jaded single
horse and dust-stained buggy, but a double
team of four spirited trotters, whose coats
were scarcely turned with foam, before a
light station wagon containing a single man.
But that man was instantly recognized by
every one of the outside loungers and stable-
boys as well as the staring crowd within the
saloon. It was James Stacy, the millionaire
and banker. No one but himself knew that
he had covered half the distance of a night-
long ride from Boomville in two hours.
But before they could voice their astonish-
ment Stacy had thrown a letter to the obse-
quious landlord, and then gathering up the
reins had sped away to the railroad station
half a mile distant.
" Looks as if the Boss of Creation was in
a hurry," said one of the eager gazers in the
doorway. " Somebody goin' to get smashed,
sure."
"More like as if he was just humpin'
238 THREE PARTNERS.
himself to keep from getting smashed," said
Steptoe. " The bank has n't got over the
effect of their smart deal in the Wheat
Trust. Everything they had in their hands
tumbled yesterday in Sacramento. Men like
me and you ain't goin' to trust their money
to be ' jockeyed ' with in that style. No-
body but a man with a swelled head like
Stacy would have even dared to try it on.
And now, by G d ! he 's got to pay for
it."
The harsh, exultant tone of the speaker
showed that he had quite forgotten Van
Loo and Hamlin in his superior hatred of
the millionaire, and both men noticed it.
Van Loo edged still nearer to the door, as
Steptoe continued, " Ever since he made
that big strike on Heavy Tree five years
ago, the country has n't been big enough to
hold him. But mark my words, gentlemen,
the time ain't far off when he '11 find a two-
foot ditch again and a pick and grub wages
room enough and to spare for him and his
kind of cattle."
"You 're not drinking," said Jack Hamlin
cheerfully.
Steptoe turned towards the bar, and then
THREE PARTNERS. 239
started. " Where 's Van Loo ? " he de-
manded of Jack sharply.
Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
" Gone to hurry up his girl, I reckon. I
calculate he ain't got much time to fool
away here."
Steptoe glanced suspiciously at Jack. But
at the same moment they were all startled
even Jack himself at the apparition of
Mrs. Barker passing hurriedly along the
veranda before the windows in the direction
of the still waiting buggy. " D n it ! " said
Steptoe in a fierce whisper to the man next
him. "Tell her not there at the back
door ! " But before the messenger reached
the door there was a sudden rattle of wheels,
and with one accord all except Hamlin
rushed to the veranda, only to see Mrs.
Barker driving rapidly away alone. Steptoe
turned back into the room, but Jack also
had disappeared.
For in the confusion created at the sight
of Mrs. Barker, he had slipped to the back
door and found, as he suspected, only one
horse, and that with a side-saddle on. His
intuitions were right. Van Loo, when he
disappeared from the saloon, had instantly
240 THREE PARTNERS.
fled, taking the other horse and abandoning
the woman to her fate. Jack as instantly
leaped upon the remaining saddle and dashed
after him. Presently he caught a glimpse
of the fugitive in the distance, heard the
half-angry, half-ironical shouts of the crowd
at the back door, and as he reached the hill-
top saw, with a mingling of satisfaction and
perplexity, Mrs. Barker on the other road,
still driving frantically in the direction of
the railroad station. At which Mr. Hanilin
halted, threw away his encumbering saddle,
and, good rider that he was, remounted the
horse, barebacked but for his blanket-pad,
and thrusting his knees in the loose girths,
again dashed forwards, with such good
results that, as Van Loo galloped up to the
stagecoach office, at the next station, and
was about to enter the waiting coach for
Marysville, the soft hand of Mr. Hamlin
was laid on his shoulder.
" I told you," said Jack blandly, " that I
had plenty of time. I would have been here
before and even overtaken you, only you
had the better horse and the only saddle."
Van Loo recoiled. But he was now des-
perate and reckless. Beckoning Jack out
THREE PARTNERS. 241
of earshot of the other passengers, he said
with tightened lips, " Why do you follow me ?
What is your purpose in coming here ? "
" I thought," said Hamlin dryly, " that I
was to have the pleasure of getting satisfac-
tion from you for the insult you gave me."
" Well, and if I apologize for it, what
then ? " he said quickly.
Hamlin looked at him quietly. " Well, I
think I also said something about the lady
being the wife of a friend of mine."
" And I have left her behind. Her hus-
band can take her back without disgrace,
for no one knows of her flight but you and
me. Do you think your shooting me will
save her ? It will spread the scandal far
and wide. For I warn you, that as I have
apologized for what you choose to call my
personal insult, unless you murder me in
cold blood without witness, I shall let them
know the reason of your quarrel. And I
can tell you more: if you only succeed in
stopping me here, and make me lose my
chance of getting away, the scandal to your
friend will be greater still."
Mr. Hamlin looked at Van Loo curiously.
There was a certain amount of conviction in
242 THREE PARTNERS.
what he said. He had never met this kind
of creature before. He had surpassed even
Hamlin's first intuition of his character.
He amused and interested him. But Mr.
Hamlin was also a man of the world, and
knew that Van Loo's reasoning might be
good. He put his hands in his pockets, and
said gravely, " What is your little game ? "
Van Loo had been seized with another
inspiration of desperation. Steptoe had
been partly responsible for this situation.
Van Loo knew that Jack and Steptoe were
not friends. He had certain secrets of Step-
toe's that might be of importance to Jack.
Why should he not try to make friends with
this powerful free-lance and half -outlaw ?
" It 's a game," he said significantly,
"that might be of interest to your friends to
hear."
Hamlin took his hands out of his pockets,
turned on his heel, and said, " Come with
me."
" But I must go by that coach now," said
Van Loo desperately, "or I 've told you
what would happen."
" Come with me," said Jack coolly. " If
I 'm satisfied with what you tell me, I '11 put
THESE PARTNERS. 243
you down at the next station an hour before
that coach gets there."
" You swear it ? " said Van Loo hesitat-
ingly.
" I 've said it," returned Jack. " Come ! "
and Van Loo followed Mr. Hamlin into the
station hotel.
CHAPTER VI.
THE abrupt disappearance of Jack Hamlin
and the strange lady and gentleman visitor
was scarcely noticed by the other guests of
the Divide House, and beyond the circle
of Steptoe and his friends, who were a dis-
tinct party and strangers to the town, there
was no excitement. Indeed, the hotel pro-
prietor might have confounded them to-
gether, and, perhaps, Van Loo was not far
wrong in his belief that their identity had
not been suspected. Nor were Steptoe's
followers very much concerned in an episode
in which they had taken part only at the
suggestion of their leader, and which had
terminated so tamely. That they would
have liked a " row," in which Jack Hamlin
would have been incidentally forced to dis-
gorge his winnings, there was no doubt, but
that their interference was asked solely to
gratify some personal spite of Steptoe's
against Van Loo was equally plain to them.
THREE PAETNERS. 245
There was some grumbling and outspoken
criticism of his methods.
This was later made more obvious by the
arrival of another guest for whom Steptoe
and his party were evidently waiting. He
was a short, stout man, whose heavy red
beard was trimmed a little more carefully
than when he was first known to Steptoe
as Alky Hall, the drunkard of Heavy Tree
Hill. His dress, too, exhibited a marked
improvement in quality and style, although
still characterized in the waist and chest by
the unbuttoned freedom of portly and slov-
enly middle age. Civilization had restricted
his potations or limited them to certain fes-
tivals known as " sprees," and his face was
less puffy and sodden. But with the acces-
sion of sobriety he had lost his good humor,
and had the irritability and intolerance of
virtuous restraint.
" Ye need n't ladle out any of your forty-
rod whiskey to me," he said querulously to
Steptoe, as he filed out with the rest of the
party through the bar-room into the adjacent
apartment. " I want to keep my head level
till our business is over, and I reckon it
would n't hurt you and your gang to do the
246 THESE PAETNEES.
same. They 're less likely to blab ; and
there are few doors that whiskey won't un-
lock," he added, as Steptoe turned the key
in the door after the party had entered.
The room had evidently been used for
meetings of directors or political caucuses,
and was roughly furnished with notched
and whittled armchairs and a single long
deal table, on which were ink and pens.
The men sat down around it with a half-em-
barrassed, half-contemptuous attitude of
formality, their bent brows and isolated
looks showing little community of sentiment
and scarcely an attempt to veil that indi-
vidual selfishness that was prominent. Still
less was there any essay of companionship
or sympathy in the manner of Steptoe
as he suddenly rapped on the table with his
knuckles.
" Gentlemen," he said, with a certain de-
liberation of utterance, as if he enjoyed his
own coarse directness, " I reckon you all
have a sort of general idea what you were
picked up for, or you would n't be here.
But you may or may not know that for the
present you are honest, hard-working miners,
the backbone of the State of Californy,
THEEE PARTNEES. 247
. and that you have formed yourselves into
a company called the ' Blue Jay,' and you 've
settled yourselves on the Bar below Heavy
Tree Hill, on a deserted claim of the Mar-
shall Brothers, not half a mile from where
the big strike was made five years ago.
That 's what you are, gentlemen ; that 's
what you '11 continue to be until the job 's
finished ; and," he added, with a sudden
dominance that they all felt, " the man who
forgets it will have to reckon with me.
Now," he continued, resuming his former
ironical manner, "now, what are the cold
facts of the case? The Marshalls worked
this claim ever since '49, and never got any-
thing out of it ; then they dropped off or
died out, leaving only one brother, Tom
Marshall, to work what was left of it. Well,
a few days ago he found indications of a big
lead in the rock, and instead of rushin' out
and yellin' like an honest man, and callin'
in the boys to drink, he sneaks off to 'Frisco,
and goes to the bank to get 'em to take a
hand in it. Well, you know, when Jim
Stacy takes a hand in anything, it 's both
hands, and the bank would n't see it until
he promised to guarantee possession of the
248 THREE PARTNERS.
whole abandoned claim, ' dips, spurs, and
angles,' and let them work the whole
thing, which the d d fool did, and the
bank agreed to send an expert down there
to-morrow to report. But while he was
away some one on our side, who was an
expert also, got wind of it, and made an ex-
amination all by himself, and found it was
a vein sure enough and a big thing, and
some one else on our side found out, too, all
that Marshall had promised the bank and
what the bank had promised him. Now,
gentlemen, when the bank sends down that
expert to-morrow I expect that he will find
you in possession of every part of the de-
serted claim except the spot where Tom is
still working."
"And what good is that to us?" asked
one of the men contemptuously.
" Good ? " repeated Steptoe harshly.
" Well, if you 're not as d d a fool as Mar-
shall, you '11 see that if he has struck a lead
or vein it 's bound to run across our claims,
and what 's to keep us from sinking for it
as long as Marshall has n't worked the other
claims for years nor preempted them for
this lead ? "
THESE PARTNEES. 249
" What '11 keep him from preempting
now?"
" Our possession."
" But if he can prove that the brothers
left their claims to him to keep, he '11 just
send the sheriff and his posse down upon
us," persisted the first speaker.
" It will take him three months to do that
by law, and the sheriff and his posse can't
do it before as long as we 're in peaceable
possession of it. And by the time that
expert and Marshall return they '11 find us
in peaceful possession, unless we 're such
blasted fools as to stay talking about it
here!"
" But what 's to prevent Marshall from
getting a gang of his own to drive us off ? "
" Now your talkin' and not yelpin'," said
Steptoe, with slow insolence. " D d if I
did n't begin to think you kalkilated I was
goin' to employ you as lawyers ! Nothing
is to prevent him from gettin' up his gang,
and we hope he '11 do it, for you see it puts
us both on the same level before the law, for
we 're both breakin' it. And we kalkilate
that we 're as good as any roughs they can
pick up at Heavy Tree."
250 THREE PARTNERS.
" I reckon ! " " Ye can count us in ! "
said half a dozen voices eagerly.
" But what 's the job goin' to pay us ? "
persisted a Sydney man. " An' arter we 've
beat off this other gang, are we going to
scrub along on grub wages until we 're
yanked out by process-sarvers three months
later ? If that 's the ticket I 'm not in it.
I are n't no b y quartz miner."
" We ain't going to do no more mining
there than the bank," said Steptoe fiercely.
" And the bank ain't going to wait no three
months for the end of the lawsuit. They '11
float the stock of that mine for a couple of
millions, and get out of it with a million
before a month. And they '11 have to buy
us off to do that. What they '11 pay will
depend upon the lead ; but we don't move
off those claims for less than five thousand
dollars, which will be two hundred and fifty
dollars to each man. But," said Steptoe
in a lower but perfectly distinct voice, " if
there should be a row, and they begin it,
and in the scuffle Tom Marshall, their
only witness, should happen to get in the
way of a revolver or have his head caved in,
there might be some difficulty in their hold-
THREE PARTNERS, 251
in' any of the mine against honest, hard-
working miners in possession. You hear
me?"
There was a breathless silence for the
moment, and a slight movement of the men
in their chairs, but never in fear or pro-
test. Every one had heard the speaker dis-
tinctly, and every man distinctly understood
him. Some of them were criminals, one or
two had already the stain of blood on their
hands ; but even the most timid, who at
other times might have shrunk from sug-
gested assassination, saw in the speaker's
words only the fair removal of a natural
enemy.
" All right, boys. I 'm ready to wade in
at once. Why ain't we on the road now ?
We might have been but for foolin' our
time away on that man Van Loo."
" Van Loo ! " repeated Hall eagerly,
" Van Loo ! Was he here ? "
" Yes," said Steptoe shortly, administer-
ing a kick under the table to Hall, as he
had no wish to revive the previous irrita-
bility of his comrades. " He 's gone, but,"
turning to the others, " you 'd have had to
wait for Mr. Hall's arrival, anyhow. And
252 THREE PARTNERS.
now you've got your order you can start.
Go in two parties by different roads, and
meet on the other side of the hotel at Hy-
mettus. I '11 be there before you. Pick
up some shovels and drills as you go ; re-
member you're honest miners, but don't
forget your shootin'-irons for all that. Now
scatter."
It was well that they did, vacating the
room more cheerfully and sympathetically
than they had entered it, or Hall's manifest
disturbance over Van Loo's visit would have
been noticed. When the last man had dis-
appeared Hall turned quickly to Steptoe.
"Well, what did he say? Where has he
gone ? "
" Don't know," said Steptoe, with uneasy
curtness. " He was running away with a
woman well, Mrs. Barker, if you want to
know," he added, with rising anger, " the
wife of one of those cursed partners. Jack
Hamlin was here, and was jockeying to stop
him, and interfered. But what the devil
has that job to do with our job ? " He was
losing his temper ; everything seemed to
turn upon this infernal Van Loo !
" He was n't running away with Mrs.
THREE PARTNERS. 253
Barker," gasped Hall, "it was with her
money ! and the fear of being connected
with the Wheat Trust swindle which he
organized, and with our money which I lent
him for the same purpose. And he knows
all about that job, for I wanted to get him
to go into it with us. Your name and mine
ain't any too sweet-smelling for the bank,
and we ought to have a middleman who
knows business to arrange with them. The
bank dare n't object to him, for they 've em-
ployed him in even shadier transactions than
this when they didn't wish to appear. /
knew he was in difficulties along with Mrs.
Barker's speculations, but I never thought
him up to this. And," he added, with sud-
den desperation, " you trusted him, too."
In an instant Steptoe caught the fright-
ened man by the shoulders and was bearing
him down on the table. " Are you a traitor,
a liar, or a besotted fool? " he said hoarsely.
" Speak. When and where did I trust
him?"
" You said in your note I was to
help him," gasped Hall.
"My note," repeated Steptoe, releasing
Hall with astonished eyes.
254 THREE PARTNERS.
"Yes," said Hall, tremblingly searching
in his vest pocket. " I brought it with me.
It is n't much of a note, but there 's your
signature plain enough."
He handed Steptoe a torn piece of paper
folded in a three-cornered shape. Steptoe
opened it. He instantly recognized the
paper on which he had written his name
and sent up to his wife at the Boomville
Hotel. But, added to it, in apparently the
same hand, in smaller characters, were the
words, " Help Van Loo all you can."
The blood rushed into his face. But he
quickly collected himself, and said hurriedly,
"All right, I had forgotten it. Let the
d d sneak go. We 've got what 's a thou-
sand times better in this claim at Marshall's,
and it 's well that he is n't in it to scoop the
lion's share. Only we must not waste time
getting there now. You go there first, and
at once, and set those rascals to work. I '11
follow you before Marshall conies up. Get ;
I '11 settle up here."
His face darkened once more as Hall hur-
ried away, leaving him alone. He drew out
the piece of paper from his pocket and stared
at it again. Yes; it was the one he had
THESE PARTNERS. 255
sent to his wife. How did Van Loo get
hold of it ? Was he at the hotel that night ?
Had he picked it up in the hall or passage
when the servant dropped it ? When Hall
handed him the paper and he first recognized
it a fiendish thought, followed by a spasm of
more fiendish rage, had sent the blood to his
face. But his crude common sense quickly
dismissed that suggestion of his wife's com-
plicity with Van Loo. But had she seen
him passing through the hotel that night,
and had sought to draw from him some
knowledge of his early intercourse with the
child, and confessed everything, and even
produced the paper with his signature as a
proof of identity? W*>men had been known
to do such desperate things. Perhaps she
disbelieved her son's aversion to her, and
was trying to sound Van Loo. As for the
forged words by Van Loo, and the use he
had put them to, he cared little. He believed
the man was capable of forgery ; indeed, he
suddenly remembered that in the old days
his son had spoken innocently, but admir-
ingly, of Van Loo's wonderful chirographi-
cal powers and his faculty of imitating the
writings of others, and how he had evei*
256 THREE PARTNERS.
offered to teach him. A new and exasper-
ating thought came into his feverish con-
sciousness. What if Van Loo, in teaching
the boy, had even made use of him as an
innocent accomplice to cover up his own
tricks ! The suggestion was no question of
moral ethics to Steptoe, nor of his son's pos-
sible contamination, although since the night
of the big strike he had held different views ;
it was simply a fierce, selfish jealousy that
another might have profited by the lad's
helplessness and inexperience. He had been
tormented by this jealousy before in his son's
liking for Van Loo. He had at first encour-
aged his admiration and imitative regard for
this smooth swindler's graces and accom-
plishments, which, though he scorned them
himself, he was, after the common parental
infatuation, willing that the boy should pro-
fit by. Incapable, through his own con-
sciousness, of distinguishing between Van
Loo's superficial polish and the true breed-
ing of a gentleman, he had only looked upon
it as an equipment for his son which might
be serviceable to himself. He had told his
wife the truth when he informed her of Van
Loo's fears of being reminded of their for.
THESE PARTNERS. 257
mer intimacy ; but he had not told her how
its discontinuance after they had left Heavy
Tree Hill had affected her son, and how he
still cherished his old admiration for that
specious rascal. Nor had he told her how
this had stung him, through his own selfish
greed of the boy's affection. Yet now that
it was possible that she had met Van Loo
that evening, she might have become aware
of Van Loo's power over her child. How
she would exult, for all her pretended hatred
of Van Loo ! How, perhaps, they had
plotted together ! How Van Loo might
have become aware of the place where his
son was kept, and have been bribed by the
mother to tell her ! He stopped in a whirl
of giddy fancies. His strong common sense
in all other things had been hitherto proof
against such idle dreams or suggestions ; but
the very strength of his parental love and
jealousy had awakened in him at last the
terrors of imagination.
His first impulse had been to seek his
wife, regardless of discovery or consequences,
at Hyinettus, where she had said she was
going. It was on his way to the rendezvous
at Marshall's claim. But this he as instantly
258 THREE PARTNERS.
set aside. It was his son he must find ; she
might not confess, or might deceive him
the boy would not; and if his fears were
correct, she could be arraigned afterwards.
It was possible for him to reach the little
Mission church and school, secluded in a
remote valley by the old Franciscan fathers,
where he had placed the boy for the last few
years unknown to his wife. It would be a
long ride, but he could still reach Heavy Tree
Hill afterwards before Marshall and the ex-
pert arrived. And he had a feeling he had
never felt before on the eve of a desperate
adventure, that he must see the boy first.
He remembered how the child had often
accompanied him in his flight, and how he
had gained strength, and, it seemed to him,
a kind of luck, from the touch of that small
hand in his. Surely it was necessary now
that at least his mind should be at rest re-
garding him on the eve of an affair of this
moment. Perhaps he might never see him
again. At any other time, and under the
influence of any other emotion, he would have
scorned such a sentimentalism he who
had never troubled himself either with pre-
paration for the future or consideration for
THREE PARTNERS. 259
the past. But at that moment he felt both.
He drew a long breath. He could catch the
next train to the Three Boulders and ride
thence to San Felipe. He hurriedly left the
room, settled with the landlord, and galloped
to the station. By the irony of circum
stances the only horse available for that pur-
pose was Mr. Hamlin's own.
By two o'clock he was at the Three
Boulders, where he got a fast horse and
galloped into San Felipe by four. As he
descended the last slope through the fast-
nesses of pines towards the little valley
overlooked in its remoteness and purely pas-
toral simplicity by tha gold-seeking immi-
grants, its seclusion as one of the furthest
northern Californian missions still preserved
through its insignificance and the efforts of
the remaining Brotherhood, who used it as
an infirmary and a school for the few re-
maining Spanish families, he remembered
how he once blundered upon it with the boy
while hotly pursued by a hue and cry from
one of the larger towns, and how he found
sanctuary there. He remembered how, when
the pursuit was over, he had placed the boy
there under the padre's charge. He had
260 THREE PARTNERS.
lied to his wife regarding the whereabouts of
her son, but he had spoken truly regarding
his free expenditure for the boy's mainte-
nance, and the good fathers had accepted,
equally for the child's sake as for the
Church's sake, the generous " restitution "
which this coarse, powerful, ruffianly look-
ing father was apparently seeking to make.
He was quite aware of it at the tune, and
had equally accepted it with grim cynicism ;
but it now came back to him with a new and
smarting significance. Might they, too, not
succeed in weaning the boy's affection from
him, or if the mother had interfered, would
they not side with her in claiming an equal
right ? He had sometimes laughed to him-
self over the security of this hiding-place, so
unknown and so unlikely to be discovered
by her, yet within easy reach of her friends
and his enemies ; he now ground his teeth
over the mistake which his doting desire to
keep his son accessible to him had caused
him to make. He put spurs to his horse,
dashed down the little, narrow, ill-paved
street, through the deserted plaza, and pulled
up in a cloud of dust before the only re-
maining tower, with its cracked belfry, of
THREE PARTNERS. 261
the half-ruined Mission church. A new
dormitory and school-building had been ex-
tended from its walls, but in a subdued, har-
monious, modest way, quite unlike the usual
glaring'white-piue glories of provincial towns.
Steptoe laughed to himself bitterly. Some
of his money had gone in it.
He seized the horsehair rope dangling
from a bell by the wall and rang it sharply.
A soft-footed priest appeared, Father Do-
minico. " Eddy Horncastle ? Ah ! yes.
Eddy, dear child, is gone."
" Gone ! " shouted Steptoe in a voice that
startled the padre. " Where ? When ?
With whom ? "
** Pardon, seilor, but for a time only a
pasear to the next village. It is his saint's
day he has half-holiday. He is a good
boy. It is a little pleasure for him and for
us."
" Oh ! " said Steptoe, softened into a
rough apology. " I forgot. All right.
Has he had any visitors lately lady, for
instance ? "
Father Dominico cast a look half of
fright, half of reproval upon his guest.
** A lady Jiere ! "
262 THREE PARTNERS.
In his relief Steptoe burst into a coarse
laugh. " Of course ; you see I forgot that,
too. I was thinking of one of his woman
folks, you know relatives aunts. Was
there any other visitor?"
" Only one. Ah ! we know the senor's
rules regarding his son."
" One ? " repeated Steptoe. " Who was
it?"
" Oh, quite an hidalgo an old friend of
the child's most polite, most accomplished,
fluent in Spanish, perfect in deportment.
The Senor Horncastle surely could find
nothing to object to. Father Pedro was
charmed with him. A man of affairs, and
yet a good Catholic, too. It was a Senor
Van Loo Don Paul the boy called him,
and they talked of the boy's studies in the
old days as if indeed, but for the stranger
being a caballero and man of the world
as if he had been his teacher."
It was a proof of the intensity of the fa-
ther's feelings that they had passed beyond
the power of his usual coarse, brutal expres-
sion, and he only stared at the priest with a
dull red face in which the blood seemed to
have stagnated. Presently he said thickly,
" When did he come ? "
THESE PARTNERS. 263
" A few days ago."
* Which way did Eddy go ? "
" To Brown's Mills, scarcely a league
away. He will be here even now on
the instant. But the senor will come into
the refectory and take some of the old Mis-
sion wine from the Catalan grape, planted
one hundred and fifty years ago, until the
dear child returns. He will be so happy."
" Ne ! I 'm in a hurry. I will go on
and meet him." He took off his hat,
mopped his crisp, wet hair with his handker-
chief, and in a thick, slow, impeded voice,
more suggestive than the outburst he re-
strained, said, " And as long as my son
remains here that man, Van Loo, must not
pass this gate, speak to him, or even see
him. You hear me ? See to it, you and
all the others. See to it, I say, or " He
stopped abruptly, clapped his hat on the
swollen veins of his forehead, turned quickly,
passed out without another word through
the archway into the road, and before the
good priest could cross himself or recover
from his astonishment the thud of his
horse's hoofs came from the dusty road.
It was ten minutes before his face resumed
264 THREE PARTNERS.
its usual color. But in that ten minutes, as
if some of the struggle of his rider had
passed into him, his horse was sweating
with exhaustion and fear. For in that ten
minutes, in this new imagination with which
he was cursed, he had killed both Van Loo
and his son, and burned the refectory over
the heads of the treacherous priests. Then,
quite himself again, a voice came to him
from the rocky trail above the road with the
hail of " Father ! " He started quickly as
a lad of fifteen or sixteen came bounding
down the hillside, and ran towards him.
" You passed me and I called to you, but
you did not seem to hear," said the boy
breathlessly. "Then I ran after you.
Have you been to the Mission ? "
Steptoe looked at him quite as breath-
lessly, but from a deeper emotion. He was,
even at first sight, a handsome lad, glowing
with youth and the excitement of his run,
and, as the father looked at him, he could
see the likeness to his mother in his clear-
cut features, and even a resemblance to him-
self in his square, compact chest and shoul-
ders and crisp, black curls. A thrill of
purely animal paternity passed over him,
THESE PARTNERS. 265
the fierce joy of his flesh over his own flesh !
His own son, by God ! They could not take
that from him; they might plot, swindle,
fawn, cheat, lie, and steal away his affec-
tions, but there he was, plain to all eyes,
his own son, his very son !
"Come here," he said in a singular, half-
weary and half-protesting voice, which the
boy instantly recognized as his father's ac-
cents of affection.
The boy hesitated as he stood on the edge
of the road and pointed with mingled mis-
chief and fastidiousness to the depths of
impalpable red dust that lay between him
and the horseman. Steptoe saw that he
was very smartly attired in holiday guise,
with white duck trousers and patent leather
shoes, and, after the Spanish fashion, wore
black kid gloves. He certainly was a bit
of a dandy, as he had said. The father's
whole face changed as he wheeled and came
before the lad, who lifted up his arms expect-
antly. They had often ridden together on
the same horse.
" No rides to-day in that toggery, Eddy,"
he said in the same voice. " But I '11 get
down and we '11 go and sit somewhere under
266 TIIEEE PARTNERS.
a tree and have some talk. I 've got a bit
of a job that 's hurrying me, and I can't
waste time."
"Not one of your old jobs, father? I
thought you had quite given that up ? "
The boy spoke more carelessly than re-
proachfully, or even wonderingly ; yet, as he
dismounted and tethered his horse, Steptoe
answered evasively, " It 's a big thing,
sonny ; maybe we '11 make our eternal for-
tune, and then we '11 light out from this
hole and have a gay time elsewhere. Come
along."
He took the boy's gloved right hand in his
own powerful grasp, and together they clam-
bered up the steep hillside to a rocky ledge
on which a fallen pine from above had
crashed, snapped itself in twain, and then
left its withered crown to hang half down
the slope, while the other half, rested on
the ledge. On this they sat, looking down
upon the road and the tethered horse. A
gentle breeze moved the treetops above their
heads, and the westering sun played hide-
and-seek with the shifting shadows. The
boy's face was quick and alert with all that
moved round him, but without thought ,, the
THREE PARTNERS. 267
father's face was heavy, except for the eyes
that were fixed upon his son.
44 Van Loo came to the Mission," he said
suddenly.
The boy's eyes glittered quickly, like a
steel that pierced the father's heart. " Oh,"
he said simply, " then it was the padre told
you?"
" How did he know you were here ? "
asked Steptoe.
" I don't know," said the boy quietly.
44 1 think he said something, but I 've for-
gotten it. But it was mighty good of him
to come, for I thought, you know, that he
did not care to see me after Heavy Tree,
and that he 'd gone back on us."
44 What did he tell you ? " continued Step-
toe. " Did he talk of me or of your
mother?"
44 No," said the boy, but withou. any show
of interest or sympathy ; " we talked mostly
about old times."
44 Tell me about those old times, Eddy.
You never told me anything about them."
The boy, momentarily arrested more by
something in the tone of his father's voice
a weakness he had never noticed before
268 THREE PARTNERS.
than by any suggestion of his words,
said with a laugh, " Oh, only about what we
used to do when I was very little and used
to call myself his 4 little brother,' don't
you remember, long before the big strike on
Heavy Tree ? They were gay times we had
then."
" And how he used to teach you to imi-
tate other people's handwriting ? " said Step-
toe.
"What made you think of that, pop?"
said the boy, with a slight wonder in his
eyes. " Why, that 's the very thing we did
talk about."
" But you did n't do it again ; you ain't
done it since," said Steptoe quickly.
" Lord ! no," said the boy contemptu-
ously. " There ain't no chance now, and
there would n't be any fun in it. It is n't
like the old times when him and me were
all alone, and we used to write letters as
coming from other people to all the boys
round Heavy Tree and the Bar, and some-
times as far as Boomville, to get them to do
things, and they 'd think the letters were
real, and they 'd do 'em. And there 'd be
the biggest kind of a row, and nobody ever
knew who did it."
THREE PARTNERS. 269
Steptoe stared at tins flesh of his own
flesh half in relief, half in frightened admira-
tion. Sitting astride the log, his elbows on
his knees and his gloved hands supporting
his round cheeks, the boy's handsome face
became illuminated with an impish devilry
which the father had never seen before.
With dancing eyes he went on. " It was one
of those very games we played so long ago
that he wanted to see me about and wanted
me to keep mum about, for some of the
folks that he played it on were around here
now. It was a game we got off on one of
the big strike partners long before the strike.
I '11 tell you, dad, for you know what hap-
pened afterwards, and you '11 be glad. Well,
that partner Demorest was a kind of
silly, you remember a sort of Miss Nancy-
ish fellow always gloomy and lovesick
after his girl in the States. Well, we 'd
written lots of letters to girls from their
chaps before, and got lots of fun out of it ;
but we had even a better show for a game
here, for it happened that Van Loo knew
all about the girl things that even the
man's own partners did n't, for Van Loo's
mother was a sort of a friend of the girl's
270 THESE PAETNEES.
family, and traveled about with her, and knew
that the girl was spoony over this Demorest,
and that they corresponded. So, knowing
that Van Loo was employed at Heavy Tree,
she wrote to him to find out all about De-
morest and how to stop their foolish non-
sense, for the girl's parents did n't want her
to marry a broken-down miner like him. So
we thought we 'd do it our own way, and
write a letter to her as if it was from him,
don't you see ? I wanted to make him call
her awful names, and say that he hated her,
that he was a murderer and a horse-thief,
and that he had killed a policeman, and that
he was thinking of becoming a Digger Injin,
and having a Digger squaw for a wife, which
he liked better than her. Lord ! dad, you
ought to have seen what stuff I made up."
The boy burst into a shrill, half -feminine
laugh, and Steptoe, catching the infection,
laughed loudly in his own coarse, brutal
fashion.
For some moments they sat there looking
in each other's faces, shaking with sympa-
thetic emotion, the father forgetting the pur-
pose of his coming there, his rage over Van
Loo's visit, and even the rendezvous to
THREE PARTNERS. 271
which his horse in the road below was wait-
ing to bring him ; the son forgetting their
retreat from Heavy Tree Hill and his shame-
ful vagabond wanderings with that father
in the years that followed. The sinking sun
stared blankly in their faces ; the protecting
pines above them moved by a stronger gust
shook a few cones upon them ; an enormous
crow mockingly repeated the father's coarse
laugh, and a squirrel scampered away from
the strangely assorted pair as Steptoe, wip-
ing his eyes and forehead with his pocket-
handkerchief, said :
" And did you send it ? "
" Oh ! Van Loo thought it too strong.
Said that those sort of love-sick fools made
more fuss over little things than they did
over big things, and he sort of toned it
down, and fixed it up himself. But it told.
For there were never any more letters in
the post-office in her handwriting, and there
was n't any posted to her in his."
They both laughed again, and then Step-
toe rose. " I must be getting along," he
said, looking curiously at the boy. " I 've
got to catch a train at Three Boulders Sta-
tion."
272 THREE PARTNERS.
" Three Boulders ! " repeated the boy.
" I 'm going there, too, on Friday, to meet
Father Cipriano."
" I reckon my work will be all done by
Friday," said Steptoe musingly. Standing
thus, holding his boy's hand, he was think-
ing that the real fight at Marshall's would
not take place at once, for it might take a
day or two for Marshall to gather forces.
But he only pressed his son's hand gently.
" I wish you would sometimes take me
with you as you used to," said the boy curi-
ously. " I 'm bigger now, and would n't be
in your way."
Steptoe looked at the boy with a choking
sense of satisfaction and pride. But he said,
" No ; " and then suddenly with simulated
humor, " Don't you be taken in by any let-
ters from me, such as you and Van Loo
used to write. You hear ? "
The boy laughed.
" And," continued Steptoe, " if anybody
says I sent for you, don't you believe them."
" No," said the boy, smiling.
" And don't you even believe I 'm dead
till you see me so. You understand. By
the way, Father Pedro has some money of
THEEE PARTNERS. 273
mine kept for you. Now hurry back to
school and say you met me, but that I was
in a great hurry. I reckon I may have been
rather rough to the priests."
They had reached the lower road again,
and Steptoe silently unhitched his horse.
" Good-by," he said, as he laid his hand on
the boy's arm.
" Good-by, dad."
He mounted his horse slowly. " Well,"
he said smilingly, looking down the road,
" you ain't got anything more to say to me,
have you?"
" No, dad."
"Nothin' you want?"
Nothin', dad."
" All right. Good-by."
He put spurs to his horse and cantered
down the road without looking back. The
boy watched him with idle curiosity until he
disappeared from sight, and then went on
his way, whistling and striking off the heads
of the wayside weeds with his walking-stick.
CHAPTER VII.
THE sun arose so brightly over Hymettus
on the morning after the meeting of the
three partners that it was small wonder that
Barker's impressionable nature quickly re-
sponded to it, and, without awakening the
still sleeping child, he dressed hurriedly, and
was the first to greet it in the keen air of
the slope behind the hotel. To his panthe-
istic spirit it had always seemed as natural
for him to early welcome his returning bro-
thers of the woods and hills as to say good-
morning to his fellow mortals. And, in
the joy of seeing Black Spur rising again to
his level in the distance before him, he
doffed his hat to it with a return of his old
boyish habit, laid his arm caressingly around
the great girth of the nearest pine, clapped
his hands to the scampering squirrels in his
path, and whistled to the dipping jays. In
this way he quite forgot the more serious
affairs of the preceding night, or, rather, saw
THREE PARTNERS. 275
them only in the gilding of the morning,
until, looking up, he perceived the tall figure
of Demorest approaching him ; and then it
struck him with his first glance at his old
partner's face that his usual suave, gentle
melancholy had been succeeded by a critical
cynicism of look and a restrained bitterness
of accent. Barker's loyal heart smote him
for his own selfishness ; Demorest had been
hard hit by the discovery of the forgery and
Stacy's concern in it, and had doubtless
passed a restless night, while he (Barker)
had forgotten all about it. " I thought of
knocking at your door, as I passed," he said,
with sympathetic apology, " but I was afraid
I might disturb you. Is n't it glorious here ?
Quite like the old hill. Look at that lizard ;
he has n't moved since he first saw me. Do
you remember the one who used to steal our
sugar, and then stiffen himself into stone on
the edge of the bowl until he looked like an
ornamental handle to it ? " he continued, re-
bounding again into spirits.
" Barker," said Demorest abruptly, " what
sort of woman is this Mrs. Van Loo, whose
rooms I occupy ? "
" Oh," said Barker, with optimistic in-
276 THREE PARTNERS.
nocence, "a most proper woman, old chap.
White-haired, well-dressed, with a little for-
eign accent and a still more foreign courtesy.
Why, you don't suppose we 'd "
" But what is she like ? " said Demorest
impatiently.
" Well," said Barker thoughtfully, " she 's
the kind of woman who might be Van Loo's
mother, I suppose."
" You mean the mother of a forger and a
swindler ? " asked Demorest sharply.
" There are no mothers of swindlers and
forgers," said Barker gravely, " in the way
you mean. It 's only those poor devils," he
said, pointing, nevertheless, with a certain
admiration to a circling sparrow-hawk above
him, " who have inherited instincts. What
I mean is that she might be Van Loo's mo-
ther, because he did n't select her."
" Where did she come from ? and how
long has she been here ? " asked Demorest.
" She came from abroad, I believe. And
she came here just after you left. Van Loo,
after he became secretary of the Ditch Com-
pany, sent for her and her daughter to keep
house for him. But you '11 see her to-day or
to-morrow probably, when she returns. I '11
THREE PARTNERS. 277
introduce you ; she '11 be rather glad to meet
some one from abroad, and all the more if
he happens to be rich and distinguished, and
eligible for her daughter." He stopped
suddenly in his smile, remembering Denio-
rest's lifelong secret. But to his surprise
his companion's face, instead of darkening
as it was wont to do at any such allusion,
brightened suddenly with a singular excite-
ment as he answered dryly, " Ah well, if the
girl is pretty, who knows ! "
Indeed, his spirits seemed to have re-
turned with strange vivacity as they walked
back to the hotel, and he asked many other
questions regarding Mrs. Van Loo and her
daughter, and particularly if the daughter
had also been abroad. When they reached
the veranda they found a few early risers
eagerly reading the Sacramento papers,
which had just arrived, or, in little knots,
discussing the news. Indeed, they would
probably have stopped Barker and his com-
panion had not Barker, anxious to relieve
his friend's curiosity, hurried with him at
once to the manager's office.
" Can you tell me exactly when you ex-
pect Mrs. Van Loo to return ? " asked
Barker quickly.
278 THREE PARTNERS.
The manager with difficulty detached
himself from the newspaper which he, too,
was anxiously perusing, and said, with a
peculiar smile, " Well no ! she was to return
to-day, but if you 're wanting to keep her
rooms, I should say there would n't be any
trouble about it, as she '11 hardly be coming
back here now. She 's rather high and
mighty in style, I know, and a determined
sort of critter, but I reckon she and her
daughter would n't care much to be waltzing
round hi public after what has happened."
" I don't understand you," said Demorest
impatiently. " What has happened ? "
" Have n't you heard the news ? " said the
manager in surprise. " It 's in all the Sac-
ramento papers. Van Loo is a defaulter
has hypothecated everything he had and
skedaddled."
Barker started. He was not thinking of
the loss of his wife's money only of her
disappointment and mortification over it.
Poor girl! Perhaps she was also worrying
over his resentment, as if she did not know
him ! He would go to her at once at Boorn-
ville. Then he remembered that she was
coming with Mrs. Horncastle, and might be
THREE PARTNERS. 279
already on her way here by rail or coach,
and he would miss her. Demorest in the
meantime had seized a paper, and was in-
tently reading it.
" There 's bad news, too, for your friend,
jour old partner," said the manager half sym-
pathetically, half interrogatively. " There
has been a drop out in everything the bank
is carrying, and everybody is unloading.
Two firms failed in 'Frisco yesterday that
were carrying things for the bank, and have
thrown everything back on it. There was
an awful panic last night, and they say none
of the big speculators know where they
stand. Three of our best customers in the
hotel rushed off to the bay this morning,
but Stacy himself started before daylight,
and got the through night express to stop
for him on the Divide on signal. Shall I
send any telegrams that may come to your
room ? "
Demorest knew that the manager sus-
pected him of being interested in the bank,
and understood the purport of the question.
He answered, with calm surprise, that he
was expecting no telegrams, and added,
"But if Mrs. Van Loo returns I beg you
280 THREE PARTNERS.
to at once let me know," and taking Barker's
arm he went in to breakfast. Seated by
themselves, Demorest looked at his compan-
ion. " I 'm afraid, Barker boy, that this
thing is more serious to Jim than we ex-
pected last night, or than he cared to tell
us. And you, old man, I fear are hurt a
little by Van Loo's flight. He had some
money of your wife's, had n't he ? "
Barker, who knew that the bulk of Demo-
rest's fortune was in Stacy's hands, was
touched at this proof of his unselfish thought,
and answered with equal unselfishness that
he was concerned only by the fear of Mrs.
Barker's disappointment. " Why, Lord !
Phil, whether she 's lost or saved her money
it 's nothing to me. I gave it to her to do
what she liked with it, but I 'm afraid she '11
be worrying over what / think of it, as
if she did not know me ! And I 'm half a
mind, if it were not for missing her, to go
over to Boomville, where she 's stopping."
" I thought you said she was in San Fran-
cisco ? " said Demorest abstractedly.
Barker colored. " Yes," he answered
quickly. "But I've heard since that she
stopped at Boomville on the way."
THREE PsLRTNERS. 281
" Then don't let me keep you here," re-
turned Demorest. " For if Jim telegraphs
to me I shall start for San Francisco at
once, and I rather think he will. I did not
like to say so before those panic-mongers
outside who are stampeding everything ; so
run along, Barker boy, and ease your mind
about the wife. We may have other things
to think about soon."
Thus adjured, Barker rose from his half-
finished breakfast and slipped away. Yet
he was not quite certain what to do. His
wife must have heard the news at Boom-
ville as quickly as he had, and, if so, would
be on her way with Mrs. Horncastle ; or
she might be waiting for him knowing,
too, that he had heard the news in fear
and trembling. For it was Barker's custom
to endow all those he cared for with his own
sensitiveness, and it was not like him to
reflect that the woman who had so recklessly
speculated against his opinion would scarcely
fear his reproaches in her defeat. In the
fullness of his heart he telegraphed to her in
case she had not yet left Boomville : " All
right. Have heard news. Understand per-
fectly. Don't worry. Come to me." Then
282 THREE PARTNERS.
he left the hotel by the stable entrance in
order to evade the guests who had congre-
gated on the veranda, and made his way to
a little wooded crest which he knew com-
manded a view of the two roads from Boom-
ville. Here he determined to wait and in-
tercept her before she reached the hotel.
He knew that many of the guests were
aware of his wife's speculations with Van
Loo, and that he was her broker. He
wished to spare her running the gauntlet of
their curious stares and comments as she
drove up alone. As he was climbing the
slope the coach from Sacramento dashed
past him on the road below, but he knew
that it had changed horses at Boomville at
four o'clock, and that his tired wife would
not have availed herself of it at that hour,
particularly as she could not have yet re-
ceived the fateful news. He threw himself
under a large pine, and watched the stage-
coach disappear as it swept round into the
courtyard of the hotel.
He sat there for some moments with his
eyes bent upon the two forks of the red
road that diverged below him, but which
appeared to become whiter and more daz-
THEEE PABTNEES. 283
zling as he searched their distance. There
was nothing to be seen except an occasional
puff of dust which eventually revealed a
horseman or a long trailing cloud out of
which a solitary mule, one of a pack-train of
six or eight, would momentarily emerge and
be lost again. Then he suddenly heard his
name called, and, looking up, saw Mrs.
Horncastle, who had halted a few paces
from him between two columns of the long-
drawn aisle of pines.
In that mysterious half-light she seemed
such a beautiful and goddess-like figure that
his consciousness at first was unable to grasp
anything else. She was always wonderfully
well dressed, but the warmth and seclusion
of this mountain morning had enabled her
to wear a light gown of some delicate fabric
which set off the grace of her figure, and
even pardoned the rural coquetry of a silken
sash around her still slender waist. An
open white parasol thrown over her shoulder
made a nimbus for her charming head and
the thick coils of hair under her lace-edged
hat. He had never seen her look so beauti-
ful before. And that thought was so plainly
in his frank face and eyes as he sprang to
284 THESE PAETNEES.
his feet that it brought a slight rise of color
to her own cheek.
" I saw you climbing up here as I passed
in the coach a few minutes ago," she said,
with a smile, " and as soon as I had shaken
the dust off I followed you."
" Where 's Kitty ? " he stammered.
The color faded from her face as it had
come, and a shade of something like reproach
crept into her dark eyes. And whatever it
had been her purpose to say, or however
carefully she might have prepared herself
for this interview, she was evidently taken
aback by the sudden directness of the in-
quiry. Barker saw this as quickly, and as
quickly referred it to his own rudeness.
His whole soul rushed in apology to his face
as he said, " Oh, forgive me ! I was anxious
about Kitty ; indeed, I had thought of com-
ing again to Boomville, for you Ve heard the
news, of course? Van Loo is a defaulter,
and has run away with the poor child's
money."
Mrs. Horncastle had heard the news at
the hotel. She paused a moment to collect
herself, and then said slowly and tentatively,
with a watchful intensity in her eyes, " Mrs.
Barker went, I think, to the Divide "
THREE PARTNERS. 285
But she was instantly interrupted by the
eager Barker. " I see. I thought of that
at once. She went directly to the company's
offices to see if she could save anything from
the wreck before she saw me. It was like
her, poor girl ! And you you," he Went
on eagerly, his whole face beaming with
gratitude, " you, out of your goodness,
came here to tell me." He held out both
hands and took hers in his.
For a moment Mrs. Horncastle was speech-
less and vacillating. She had often noticed
before that it was part of the irony of the
creation of such a simple nature as Barker's
that he was not only open to deceit, but
absolutely seemed to invite it. Instead of
making others franker, people were inclined
to rebuke his credulity by restraint and
equivocation on their own part. But the
evasion thus offered to her, although only
temporary, was a temptation she could not
resist. And it prolonged an interview that
a ruthless revelation of the truth might have
shortened.
" She did not tell me she was going
there," she replied still evasively ; " and, in-
deed," she added, with a burst of candor
286 THREE PARTNERS.
still more dangerous, " I only learned it
from the hotel clerk after she was gone.
But I want to talk to you about her relations
to Van Loo," she said, with a return of her
former intensity of gaze, " and I thought we
would be less subject to interruption here
than at the hotel. Only I suppose every-
body knows this place, and any of those
flirting couples are likely to come here. Be-
sides," she added, with a little half-hysterical
laugh and a slight shiver, as she looked up
at the high interlacing boughs above her
head, " it 's as public as the aisles of a
church, and really one feels as if one were
* speaking out ' in meeting. Is n't there
some other spot a little more secluded, where
we could sit down," she went on, as she
poked her parasol into the usual black gun-
powdery deposit of earth which mingled
with the carpet of pine-needles beneath her
feet, " and not get all sticky and dirty ? "
Barker's eyes sparkled. " I know every
foot of this hill, Mrs. Horncastle," he said,
" and if you will follow me I '11 take you to
one of the loveliest nooks you ever dreamed
of. It 's an old Indian spring now for-
gotten, and I think known only to me and
THREE PARTNERS. 287
the birds. It 's not more than ten minutes
from here ; only " he hesitated as he
caught sight of the smart French bronze
buckled shoe and silken ankle which Mrs.
Horncastle's gathering up of her dainty
skirts around her had disclosed " it may
be a little rough and dusty going to your
feet."
But Mrs. Horncastle pointed out that she
had already irretrievably ruined her shoes
and stockings in climbing up to him, al-
though Barker could really distinguish no
diminution of their freshness, and that
she might as well go on. Whereat they
both passed down the long aisle of slope to
a little hollow of manzanita, which again
opened to a view of Black Spur, but left the
hotel hidden.
" What time did Kitty go ? " began
Barker eagerly, when they were half down
the slope.
But here Mrs. Horncastle's foot slipped
upon the glassy pine-needles, and not only
stopped an answer, but obliged Barker to
give all his attention to keep his companion
from falling again until they reached the
open. Then came the plunge through the
288 THREE PARTNERS.
manzanita thicket, then a cool wade through
waist-deep ferns, and then they emerged,
holding each other's hand, breathless and
panting before the spring.
It did not belie his enthusiastic descrip-
tion. A triangular hollow, niched in a shelf
of the mountain-side, narrowed to a point
from which the overflow of the spring per-
colated through a fringe of alder, to fall in
what seemed from the valley to be a green
furrow down the whole length of the moun-
tain-side. Overhung by pines above, which
met and mingled with the willows that
everywhere fringed it, it made the one cool-
ing shade in the whole basking expanse
of the mountain, and yet was penetrated
throughout by the intoxicating spice of the
heated pines. Flowering reeds and long
lush grasses drew a magic circle round an
open bowl-like pool in the centre, that was
always replenished to the slow murmur of
an unseen rivulet that trickled from a white-
quartz cavern in the mountain-side like a
vein opened in its flank. Shadows of timid
wings crossed it, quick rustlings disturbed
the reeds, but nothing more. It was silent,
but breathing ; it was hidden to everything
but the sky and the illimitable distance.
THREE PARTNERS. 289
They threaded their way around it on the
spongy carpet, covered by delicate lace-like
vines that seemed to caress rather than
trammel their moving feet, until they reached
an open space before the pool. It was cush-
ioned and matted with disintegrated pine
bark, and here they sat down. Mrs. Horn-
castle furled her parasol and laid it aside ;
raised both hands to the back of her head
and took two hat-pins out, which she placed
in her smiling mouth ; removed her hat,
stuck the hat-pins in it, and handed it to
Barker, who gently placed it on the top of
a tall reed, where during the rest of that
momentous meeting it swung and drooped
like a flower ; removed her gloves slowly ;
drank still smilingly and gratefully nearly
a wineglassful of the water which Barker
brought her in the green twisted chalice of
a lily leaf ; looked the picture of happiness,
and then burst into tears.
Barker was astounded, dismayed, even
terror-stricken. Mrs. Horncastle crying!
Mrs. Horncastle, the imperious, the col-
lected, the coldly critical, the cynical, smiling
woman of the world, actually crying ! Other
women might cry Kitty had cried often
290 THREE PARTNERS.
but Mrs. Horncastle ! Yet, there she was,
sobbing ; actually sobbing like a schoolgirl,
her beautiful shoulders rising and falling
with her grief ; crying unmistakably through
her long white ringers, through a lace pocket-
handkerchief which she had hurriedly pro-
duced and shaken from behind her like a
conjurer's trick ; her beautiful eyes a thou-
sand times more lustrous for the sparkling
beads that brimmed her lashes and welled
over like the pool before her.
" Don't mind me," she murmured behind
her handkerchief. "It's very foolish, I
know. I was nervous worried, I suppose ;
I '11 be better in a moment. Don't notice
me, please."
But Barker had drawn beside her and was
trying, after the fashion of his sex, to take
her handkerchief away in apparently the
firm belief that this action would stop her
tears. " But tell me what it is. Do Mrs.
Horncastle, please," he pleaded in his boy-
ish fashion. " Is it anything I can do ?
Only say the word ; only tell me som&~
thing ! "
But he had succeeded in partially remov-
ing the handkerchief, and so caught a glimpse
THESE PARTNERS. 291
of her wet eyes, in which a faint smile
struggled out like sunshine through raiii.
But they clouded again, although she did n't
cry, and her breath came and went with the
action of a sob, and her hands still remained
against her flushed face.
"I was only going to talk to you of
Kitty " (sob) " but I suppose I 'm weak "
(sob) " and such a fool " (sob) " and I
got to thinking of myself and my own sor-
rows when I ought to be thinking only of
you and Kitty."
" Never mind Kitty," said Barker impul-
sively. " Tell me about yourself your
own sorrows. I am a brute to have both-
ered you about her at such a moment ; and
now until you have told me what is paining
you so I shall not let you speak of her."
He was perfectly sincere. What were
Kitty's possible and easy tears over the loss
of her money to the unknown agony that
could wrench a sob from a woman like this ?
" Dear Mrs. Horncastle," he went on as
breathlessly, " think of me now not as
Kitty's husband, but as your true friend.
Yes, as your best and truest friend, and
speak to me as you would speak to him."
292 THREE PARTNERS.
" You will be my friend ? " she said sud-
denly and passionately, grasping his hand,
" my best and truest friend ? and if I tell
you all, everything, you will not cast me
from you and hate me ? "
Barker felt the same thrill from her warm
hand slowly possess his whole being as it
had the evening before, but this tune he was
prepared and answered the grasp and her
eyes together as he said breathlessly, " I will
be I am your friend."
She withdrew her hand and passed it over
her eyes. After a moment she caught his
hand again, and, holding it tightly as if she
feared he might fly from her, bit her lip,
and then slowly, without looking at him,
said, " I lied to you about myself and Kitty
that night ; I did not come with her. I
came alone and secretly to Boomville to see
to see the man who is my husband."
" Your husband ! " said Barker in surprise.
He had believed, with the rest of the world,
that there had been no communication be-
tween them for years. Yet so intense was
his interest in her that he did not notice
that this revelation was leaving now no ex-
cuse for his wife's presence at Boomville.
THESE PAETNEES. 293
Mrs. Horncastle went on with dogged bit-
terness, " Yes, my husband. I went to him
to beg and bribe him to let me see my child.
Yes, my child," she said frantically, tighten-
ing her hold upon his hand, " for I lied to
you when I once told you I had none. I
had a child, and, more than that, a child
who at his birth I did not dare to openly
claim."
She stopped breathlessly, stared at his
face with her former intensity as if she would
pluck the thought that followed from his
brain. But he only moved closer to her,
passed his arm over her shoulders with a
movement so natural and protecting that it
had a certain dignity in it, and, looking
down upon her bent head with eyes brim-
ming with sympathy, whispered, " Poor,
poor child ! "
Whereat Mrs. Horncastle again burst into
tears. And then, with her head half drawn
towards his shoulder, she told him all, all
that had passed between her and her husband,
even all that they had then but hinted at.
It was as if she felt she could now, for the
first time, voice all these terrible memories
of the past which had come back to her last
294 THREE PARTNERS.
night when her husband had left her. She
concealed nothing, she veiled nothing ; there
were intervals when her tears no longer
flowed, and a cruel hardness and return of
her old imperiousness of voice and manner
took their place, as if she was doing a rigid
penance and took a bitter satisfaction in lay-
ing bare her whole soul to him. " I never
had a friend," she whispered ; " there were
women who persecuted me with their jealous
sneers ; there were men who persecuted me
with their selfish affections. When I first
saw you, you seemed something so apart and
different from all other men that, although I
scarcely knew you, I wanted to tell you, even
then, all that I have told you now. I wanted
you to be my friend ; something told me that
you could, that you could separate me
from my past ; that you could tell me what
to do ; that you could make me think as you
thought, see life as you saw it, and trust
always to some goodness in people as you
did. And in this faith I thought that you
would understand me now, and even forgive
me all."
She made a slight movement as if to dis-
engage his arm, and, possibly, to look into
THREE PARTNERS. 295
his eyes, which she knew instinctively were
bent upon her downcast head. But he only
held her the more tightly until her cheek
was close against his breast. " What could
I do ? " she murmured. " A man in sorrow
and trouble may go to a woman for sympathy
and support and the world will not gainsay
or misunderstand him. But a woman
weaker, more helpless, credulous, ignorant,
and craving for light must not in her
agony go to a man for succor and sym-
pathy."
" Why should she not ? " burst out Barker
passionately, releasing her in his attempt to
gaze into her face. " What man dare refuse
her?"
" Not that" she said slowly, but with still
averted eyes, " but because the world would
say she loved him."
" And what should she care for the opin-
ion of a world that stands aside and lets her
suffer ? Why should she heed its wretched
babble ? " he went on in flashing indigna-
tion.
"Because," she said faintly, lifting her
moist eyes and moist and parted lips towards
him, " because it would be true ! "
296 THREE PARTNERS.
There was a silence so profound that even
the spring seemed to withhold its song as
their eyes and lips met. When the spring
recommenced its murmur, and they could
hear the droning of a bee above them and
the rustling of the reed, she was murmuring;
too, with her face against his breast : " You
did not think it strange that I should follow
you that I should risk everything to tell
you what I have told you before I told you
anything else ? You will never hate me for
it, George?"
There was another silence still more pro-
longed, and when he looked again into the
flushed face and glistening eyes he was say-
ing, " I have always loved you. I know
now I loved you from the first, from the
day when I leaned over you to take little
Sta from your lap and saw your tenderness
for him in your eyes. I could have kissed
you the?i, dearest, as I do now."
" And," she said, when she had gained
her smiling breath again, " you will always
remember, George, that you told me this
before I told you anything of her."
"Her? Of whom, dearest?" he asked,
leaning over her tenderly.
THREE PARTNERS. 297
"Of Kitty of your wife," she said im-
patiently, as she drew back shyly with her
former intense gaze.
He did not seem to grasp her meaning,
but said gravely, "Let us not talk of her
now. Later we shall have much to say of
her. For," he added quietly, " you know I
must tell her all."
The color faded from her cheek. " Tell
her all ! " she repeated vacantly ; then sud-
denly she turned upon him eagerly, and
said, " But what if she is gone ? "
" Gone ? " he repeated.
" Yes ; gone. What if she has run away
with Van Loo ? What if she has disgraced
you and her child ? "
"What do you mean?" he said, seizing
both her hands and gazing at her fixedly.
" I mean," she said, with a half -frightened
eagerness, " that she has already gone with
Van Loo. George ! George ! " she burst out
suddenly and passionately, falling upon her
knees before him, "do you think that I
would have followed you here and told you
what I did if I thought that she had now
the slightest claim upon your love or honor?
Don't you understand me? I came to tell
298 THREE PARTNERS.
you of her flight to Boomville with that
man ; how I accidentally intercepted them
there ; how I tried to save her from him,
and even lied to you to try to save her from
your indignation ; but how she deceived me
as she has you, and even escaped and joined
her lover while you were with me. I came
to tell you that and nothing more, George, I
swear it. But when you were kind to me
and pitied me, I was mad wild ! I wanted
to win you first out of your own love. I
wanted you to respond to mine before you
knew your wife was faithless. Yet I would
have saved her if I could. Listen, George !
A moment more before you speak ! "
Then she hurriedly told him all ; the
whole story of his wife's dishonor, from her
entrance into the sitting-room with Van Loo,
her later appeal for concealment from her
husband's unexpected presence, to the use
she made of that concealment to fly with
her lover. She spared no detail, and even
repeated the insult Mrs. Barker had cast
upon her with the triumphant reproach that
her husband would not believe her. " Per-
haps," she added bitterly, "you may not
believe me now. I could even stand that
THREE PARTNERS. 299
from you, George, if it could make you hap-
pier ; but you would still have to believe it
from others. The people at the Boomville
Hotel saw them leave it together."
" I do believe you," he said slowly, but
with downcast eyes, " and if I did not love
you before you told me this I could love you
now for the part you have taken ; but "
He stopped.
" You love her still," she burst out, " and
I might have known it. Perhaps," she went
on distractedly, "you love her the more
that you have lost her. It is the way of
men and women."
" If I had loved her truly," said Barker,
lifting his frank eyes to hers, " I could not
have touched your lips. I could not even
have wished to as I did three years ago
as I did last night. Then I feared it was
my weakness, now I know it was my love.
I have thought of it ever since, even while
waiting my wife's return here, knowing that
I did not and never could have loved her.
But for that very reason I must try to save
her for her own sake, if I cannot save her
for mine ; and if I fail, dearest, it shall not
be said that we climbed to happiness over
300 THREE PARTNERS.
her back bent with the burden of her shame.
If I loved you and told you so, thinking her
still guiltless and innocent, how could I
profit now by her fault ? "
Mrs. Horncastle saw too late her mistake.
" Then you would take her back ? " she said
frenziedly.
" To my home which is hers yes.
To my heart no. She never was there."
" And /, " said Mrs. Horncastle, with a
quivering lip, " where do / go when you
have settled this ? Back to my past again ?
Back to my husbandless, childless life ? "
She was turning away, but Barker caught
her in his arms again. " No ! " he said, his
whole face suddenly radiating with hope and
youthful enthusiasm. " No ! Kitty will help
us ; we will tell her all. You do not know
her, dearest, as I do how good and kind
she is, in spite of all. We will appeal to
her ; she will devise some means by which,
without the scandal of a divorce, she and I
may be separated. She will take dear little
Sta with her it is only right, poor girl ;
but she will let me come and see him. She
will be a sister to us, dearest. Courage!
All will come right yet. Trust to me."
THREE PARTNERS. 301
Aii hysterical laugh came to Mrs. Horn-
castle's lips and then stopped. For as she
looked up at him in his supreme hopefulness,
his divine confidence in himself and others
at his handsome face beaming with love
and happiness, and his clear gray eyes glit-
tering with an almost spiritual prescience
she, woman of the world and bitter expe-
rience, and perfectly cognizant of her own
and Kitty's possibilities, was, nevertheless,
completely carried away by her lover's op-
timism. For of all optimism that of love
is the most convincing. Dear boy ! for
he was but a boy in experience only his
love for her could work this magic. So she
gave him kiss for kiss, largely believing,
largely hoping, that Mrs. Barker was in love
with Van Loo and would not return. And
in this hope an invincible belief in the folly
of her own sex soothed and sustained her.
" We must go now, dearest," said Barker,
pointing to the sun already near the meri-
dian. Three hours had fled, they knew not
how. " I will bring you back to the hill
again, but there we had better separate, you
taking your way alone to the hotel as you
came, and I will go a little way on the road
302 THREE PARTNERS.
to the Divide and return later. Keep your
own counsel about Kitty for her sake and
ours ; perhaps no one else may know the
truth yet." With a farewell kiss they
plunged again hand in hand through the cool
bracken and again through the hot manza-
nita bushes, and so parted on the hilltop, as
they had never parted before, leaving their
whole world behind them.
Barker walked slowly along the road un-
der the flickering shade of wayside sycamore,
his sensitive face also alternating with his
thought in lights and shadows. Presently
there crept towards him out of the distance
a halting, vacillating, deviating buggy, trail-
ing a cloud of dust after it like a broken
wing. As it came nearer he could see that
the horse was spent and exhausted, and that
the buggy's sole occupant a woman
was equally exhausted in her monotonous
attempt to urge it forward with whip and
reins that rose and fell at intervals with
feeble reiteration. Then he stepped out of
the shadow and stood in the middle of the
sunlit road to await it. For he recognized
his wife.
The buggy came nearer. And then the
THREE PARTNERS. 303
most exquisite pang he had ever felt before
at his wife's hands shot through him. For
as she recognized him she made a wild but
impotent attempt to dash past him, and then
as suddenly pulled up in the ditch.
He went up to her. She was dirty, she
was disheveled, she was haggard, she was
plain. There were rings of dust round her
tear-swept eyes and smudges of dust-dried
perspiration over her fair cheek. He thought
of the beauty, freshness, and elegance of the
woman he had just left, and an infinite pity
swept the soul of this weak-minded gentle-
man. He ran towards her, and tenderly
lifting her in her shame-stained garments
from the buggy, said hurriedly, " I know it
all, poor Kitty ! You heard the news of
Van Loo's flight, and you ran over to the
Divide to try and save some of your money.
Why did n't you wait ? Why did n't you
tell me?"
There was no mistaking the reality of his
words, the genuine pity and tenderness of
his action ; but the woman saw before her
only the familiar dupe of her life, and felt
an infinite relief mingled with a certain con-
tempt for his weakness and anger at her pre-
vious fears of him.
304 THREE PARTNERS.
" You might have driven over, then, your-
self," she said in a high, querulous voice,
" if you knew it so well, and have spared me
this horrid, dirty, filthy, hopeless expedition,
for I have not saved anything there ! And
I have had all this disgusting bother ! "
For an instant he was sorely tempted to
lift his eyes to her face, but he checked him-
self ; then he gently took her dust-coat from
her shoulders and shook it out, wiped the
dust from her face and eyes with his own
handkerchief, held her hat and blew the dust
from it with a vivid memory of performing
the same service for Mrs. Horncastle only
an hour before, while she arranged her hair ;
and then, lifting her again into the buggy,
said quietly, as he took his seat beside her
and grasped the reins :
" I will drive you to the hotel by way of
the stables, and you can go at once to your
room and change your clothes. You are
tired, you are nervous and worried, and want
rest. Don't tell me anything now until you
feel quite yourself again."
He whipped up the horse, who, recogniz-
ing another hand at the reins, lunged for-
ward in a final effort, and in a few minutes
they were at the hotel.
THREE PAETNERS. 305
As Mrs. Horncastle sat at luncheon in
the great dining-room, a little pale and ab-
stracted, she saw Mrs. Barker sweep confi-
dently into the room, fresh, rosy, and in a
new and ravishing toilette. With a swift
glance of conscious power towards the other
guests she walked towards Mrs. Horn-
castle. " Ah, here you are, dear," she said
in a voice that could easily reach all ears,
" and you 've arrived only a little before
me, after all. And I 've had such an awful
drive to the Divide ! And only think !
poor George telegraphed to me at Boomville
not to worry, and his dispatch has only just
come back here."
And with a glance of complacency she
laid Barker's gentle and forgiving dispatch
before the astonished Mrs. Horncastle.
CHAPTER VIH.
As the day advanced the excitement over
the financial crisis increased at Hymettus,
until, in spite of its remote and peaceful iso-
lation, it seemed to throb through all its
verandas and corridors with some pulsation
from the outer world. Besides the letters
and dispatches brought by hurried mes-
sengers and by coach from the Divide,
there was a crowd of guests and servants
around the branch telegraph at the new
Heavy Tree post-office which was constantly
augmenting. Added to the natural anxiety
of the deeply interested was the stimulated
fever of the few who wished to be " in the
fashion." It was early rumored that a
heavy operator, a guest of the hotel, who
was also a director in the telegraph com-
pany, had bought up the wires for his sole
use, that the dispatches were doctored in his
interests as a " bear," and there was wild
talk of lynching by the indignant mob. Pas-
THREE PARTNERS. 307
sengers from Sacramento, San Francisco,
and Marysville brought incredible news and
the wildest sensations. Firm after firm had
failed in the great cities. Old established
houses that dated back to the " spring of
'49," and had weathered the fires and inun-
dations of their perilous Californian infancy,
collapsed before this mysterious, invisible,
impalpable breath of panic. Companies
rooted in respectability and sneered at for
old-fashioned ways were discovered to have
shamelessly speculated with trusts ! An
eminent deacon and pillar of the church was
found dead in his room with a bullet in his
heart and a damning confession on the desk
before him ! Foreign bankers were sending
their gold out of the country ; government
would be appealed to to open the vaults of
the Mint ; there would be an embargo on
all bullion shipment ! Nothing was too
wild or preposterous to be repeated or cre-
dited.
And with this fever of sordid passion the
summer temperature had increased. For
the last two weeks the thermometer had
stood abnormally high during the day-long
sunshine ; and the metallic dust in the roads
308 THREE PARTNERS.
over mineral ranges pricked the skin like
red-hot needles. In the deepest woods the
aromatic sap stood in beads on felled logs
and splintered tree-shafts ; even the moun-
tain night breeze failed to cool these baked
and heated fastnesses. There were ominous
clouds of smoke by day that were pillars
of fire by night along the distant valleys.
Some of the nearer crests were etched
against the midnight sky by dull red creep-
ing lines like a dying firework. The great
hotel itself creaked and crackled and warped
through all its painted, blistered, and ve-
neered expanse, and was filled with the sti-
fling breath of desiccation. The stucco
cracked and crumbled away from the cor-
nices ; there were yawning gaps in the
boarded floors beneath the Turkey carpets.
Plate-glass windows became hopelessly fixed
in their warped and twisted sashes, and
added to the heat ; there was a warm in-
cense of pine sap in the dining-room that
flavored all the cuisine. And yet the bab-
ble of stocks and shares went on, and peo-
ple pricked their ears over their soup to
catch the gossip of the last arrival.
Demorest, loathing it all in his new-found
THREE PARTNERS. 309
bitterness, was nevertheless impatient in his
inaction, and was eagerly awaiting a tele-
grain from Stacy ; Barker had disappeared
since luncheon. Suddenly there was a com-
motion on the veranda as a carriage drove
up with a handsome, gray-haired woman.
In the buzzing of voices around him Demo-
rest heard the name of Mrs. Van Loo. In
further comments, made in more smothered
accents, he heard that Van Loo had been
stopped at Canon Station, but that no war-
rant had yet been issued against him ; that
it was generally believed that the bank
dared not hold him ; that others openly
averred that he had been used as a scape-
goat to avert suspicion from higher guilt.
And certainly Mrs. Van Loo's calm, confi-
dent air seemed to corroborate these asser-
tions.
He was still wondering if the strange
coincidence which had brought both mother
and son into his own life was not merely a
fancy, as far as she was concerned, when a
waiter brought a message from Mrs. Van
Loo that she would be glad to see him for
a few moments in her room. Last night he
could scarcely have restrained his eagerness
310 THREE PARTNERS.
to meet her and elucidate the mystery of
the photograph ; now he was conscious of an
equally strong revulsion of feeling, and a
dull premonition of evil. However, it was
no doubt possible that the man had told her
of his previous inquiries, and she had merely
acknowledged them by that message.
Demorest found Mrs. Van Loo in the
private sitting-room where he and his old
partners had supped on the preceding night.
She received him with unmistakable courtesy
and even a certain dignity that might or
might not have been assumed. He had no
difficulty in recognizing the son's mechanical
politeness in the first, but he was puzzled at
the second.
" The manager of this hotel," she began,
with a foreigner's precision of English, " has
just told me that you were at present occupy-
ing my rooms at his invitation, but that you
wished to see me at once on my return, and
I believe that I was not wrong in apprehend-
ing that you preferred to hear my wishes
from my own lips rather than from an inn-
keeper. I had intended to keep these rooms
for some weeks, but, unfortunately for me,
though fortunately for you, the present
THREE PARTNERS. 311
terrible financial crisis, which has most un-
justly brought my son into such scandalous
prominence, will oblige me to return to San
Francisco until his reputation is fully cleared
of these foul aspersions. I shall only ask
you to allow me the undisturbed possession
of these rooms for a couple of hours until I
can pack my trunks and gather up a few
souvenirs that I almost always keep with
me."
" Pray, consider that your wishes are my
own in respect to that, my dear madam,"
returned Demorest gravely, " and that, in-
deed, I protested against even this temporary
intrusion upon your apartments ; but I con-
fess that now that you have spoken of your
souvenirs I have the greatest curiosity about
one of them, and that even my object in
seeking this interview was to gratify it. It
is in regard to a photograph which I saw
on the chimney-piece in your bedroom, which
I think I recognized as that of some one
whom I formerly knew."
There was a sudden look of sharp sus-
picion and even hard aggressiveness that
quite changed the lady's face as he men-
tioned the word " souvenir," but it quickly
312 THESE PARTNERS.
changed to a smile as she put up her fan
with a gesture of arch deprecation, and said :
" Ah ! I see. Of course, a lady's photo-
graph."
The reply irritated Demorest. More than
that, he felt a sudden sense of the absolute
sentimentality of his request, and the con-
sciousness that he was about to invite the
familiar confidence of this strange woman
whose son had forged his name in regard
to her !
" It was a Venetian picture," he began,
and stopped, a singular disgust keeping him
from voicing the name.
But Mrs. Van Loo was less reticent.
" Oh, you mean my dearest friend a lovely
picture, and you know her? Why, yes,
surely. You are the Mr. Demorest who
Of course, that old love-affair. Well, you
are a marvel ! Five years ago, at least, and
you have not forgotten ! I really must write
and tell her."
" Write and tell her ! " Then it was all
a lie about her death ! He felt not only his
faith, his hope, his future leaving him, but
even his self-control. With an effort he
said :
THREE PARTNERS. 313
" I think you have already satisfied my
curiosity. I was told five years ago that she
was dead. It was because of the date of
the photograph two years later that I
ventured to intrude upon you. I "was anx-
ious only to know the truth."
" She certainly was very much living and
of the world when I saw her last, two years
ago," said Mrs. Van Loo, with an easy smile.
" I dare say that was a ruse of her rela-
tives a very stupid one to break off the
affair, for I think they had other plans.
But, dear me ! now I remember, was there
not some little quarrel between you before?
Some letter from you that was not very
kind? My impression is that there was
something of the sort, and that the young
lady was indignant. But only for a time,
you know. She very soon forgot it. I dare
say if you wrote something very charming
to her it might not be too late. We women
are very forgiving, Mr. Demorest, and al-
though she is very much sought after, as are
all young American girls whose fathers can
give them a comfortable dot, her parents
might be persuaded to throw over a poor
prince for a rich countryman in the end.
314 THREE PARTNERS.
Of course, you know, to you Republicans
there is always something fascinating in
titles and blood, and our dear friend is like
other girls. Still, it is worth the risk.
And five years of waiting and devotion really
ought to tell. It 's quite a romance ! Shall
I write to her and tell her I have seen you,
looking well and prosperous ? Nothing more.
Do let me ! I should be delighted."
" I think it hardly worth while for you to
give yourself that trouble," said Demorest
quietly, looking in Mrs. Van Loo's smiling
eyes, " now that I know the story of the
young lady's death was a forgery. And I
will not intrude further on your time. Pray
give yourself no needless hurry over your
packing. I may go to San Francisco this
afternoon, and not even require the rooms
to-night."
" At least, let me make you a present of
the souvenir as an acknowledgment of your
courtesy," said Mrs. Van Loo, passing into
her bedroom and returning with the photo-
graph. " I feel that with your five years of
constancy it is more yours than mine." As
a gentleman Demorest knew he could not
refuse, and taking the photograph from her
THREE PARTNERS. 315
with a low bow, with another final salutation
he withdrew.
Alone by himself in a corner of the
veranda he was surprised that the interview
had made so little impression on him, and
had so little altered his conviction. His dis-
covery that the announcement of his be-
trothed's death was a fiction did not affect
the fact that though living she was yet dead
to him, and apparently by her own consent.
The contrast between her life and his during
those five years had been covertly accented
by Mrs. Van Loo, whether intentionally or
not, and he saw again as last night the full
extent of his sentimental folly. He could
not even condole with himself that he was
the victim of miserable falsehoods that oth-
ers had invented. She had accepted them,
and had even excused her desertion of him
by that last deceit of the letter.
He drew out her photograph and again
examined it, but not as a lover. Had she
really grown stouter and more self-compla-
cent ? Was the spirituality and delicacy he
had worshiped in her purely his own idiotic
fancy? Had she always been like this?
Yes. There was the girl who could weakly
316 THREE PARTNERS.
strive, weakly revenge herself, and weakly
forget. There was the figure that he had
expected to find carved upon the tomb which
he had long sought that he might weep over.
He laughed aloud.
It was very hot, and he was stifling with
inaction. What was Barker doing, and why
had not Stacy telegraphed to him ? And
what were those people in the courtyard
doing ? Were they discussing news of fur-
ther disaster and ruin ? Perhaps he was
even now a beggar. Well, his fortune
might go with his faith.
But the crowd was simply looking at the
roof of the hotel, and he now saw that a
black smoke was drifting across the court-
yard, and was conscious of a smell of soot
and burning. He stepped down from the
veranda among the mingled guests and ser-
vants, and saw that the smoke was only
pouring from a chimney. He heard, too,
that the chimney had been on fire, and that
it was Mrs. Van Loo's bedroom chimney,
and that when the startled servants had
knocked at the locked door she had told them
that she was only burning some old letters
and newspapers, the refuse of her trunks.
THREE PARTNERS. 317
There was naturally some indignation that
the hotel had been so foolishly endangered,
in such scorching weather, and the manager
had had a scene with her which resulted in
her leaving the hotel indignantly with her
half -packed boxes. But even after the smoke
had died away and the fire been extinguished
in the chimney and hearth, there was an
acrid smell of smouldering pine penetrating
the upper floors of the hotel all that after-
noon.
When Mrs. Van Loo drove away, the
manager returned with Demorest to the
rooms. The marble hearth was smoked and
discolored and still littered with charred
ashes of burnt paper. " My belief is," said
the manager darkly, " that the old hag came
here just to burn up a lot of incriminating
papers that her son had intrusted to her
keeping. It looks mighty suspicious. You
see she got up an awful lot of side when I
told her I did n't reckon to run a smelting
furnace in a wooden hotel with the thermo-
meter at one hundred in the office, and I
reckon it was just an excuse for getting off
in a hurry."
But the continued delay in Stacy's pro
318 THREE PARTNERS.
mised telegram had begun to work upon De-
morest's usual equanimity, and he scarcely
listened in his anxiety for his old partner.
He knew that Stacy should have arrived in
San Francisco by noon. He had almost
determined to take the next train from the
Divide when two horsemen dashed into the
courtyard. There was the usual stir on
the veranda and rush for news, but the two
new arrivals turned out to be Barker, on a
horse covered with foam, and a dashing, ele-
gantly dressed stranger on a mustang as
carefully groomed and as spotless as him-
self. Demorest instantly recognized Jack
Hamlin.
He had not seen Hamlin since that day,
five years before, when the latter had accom-
panied the three partners with their treasure
to Boomville, and had handed him the mys-
terious packet. As the two men dismounted
hurriedly and moved towards him, he felt a
premonition of something as fateful and im-
portant as then. In obedience to a sign from
Barker he led them to a more secluded angle
of the veranda. He could not help noticing
that his younger partner's face was mobile
as ever, but more thoughtful and older ; yet
THREE PARTNERS. 319
his voice rang with the old freemasonry of
the camp, as he said, with a laugh, " The
signal has been given, and it 's boot and
saddle and away."
"But I have had no dispatch from
Stacy," said Demorest in surprise. "He
was to telegraph to me from San Francisco
in any emergency."
" He never got there at all," said Barker.
"Jack ran slap into Van Loo at the Di-
vide, and sent a dispatch to Jim, which
stopped him halfway until Jack could reach
him, which he nearly broke his neck to do ;
and then Jack finished up by bringing a
message from Stacy to us that we should all
meet together on the slope of Heavy Tree,
near the Bar. I met Jack just as I was
riding into the Divide, and came back with
him. He will tell you the rest, and you can
swear by what Jack says, for he 's white all
through," he added, laying his hand affec-
tionately on Hamlin's shoulder.
Hamlin winced slightly. For he had
not told Barker that his wife was with Van
Loo, nor his first reason for interfering.
But he related how he had finally overtaken
Van Loo at Canon Station, and how the fu-
320 THREE PARTNERS.
gitive had disclosed the conspiracy of Step
toe and Hall against the bank and Marshall
as the price of his own release. On this
news, remembering that Stacy had passed
the Divide on his way to the station, he had
first sent a dispatch to him, and then met
him at the first station on the road. " I
reckon, gentlemen," said Hamlin, with an
unusual earnestness in his voice, " that he 'd
not only got my telegram, but all the news
that had been flying around this morning,
for he looked like a man to whom it was
just a ' toss-up ' whether he took his own
life then and there or was willing to have
somebody else take it for him, for he said,
* I '11 go myself,' and telegraphed to have
the surveyor stopped from coming. Then
he told me to tell you fellows, and ask you
to come too." Jack paused, and added half
mischievously, " He sort of asked me what I
would take to stand by him in the row, if
there was one, and I told him I 'd take
whiskey ! You see, boys, it 's a kind of off-
night with me, and I would n't mind for the
sake of old times to finish the game with old
Steptoe that I began a matter of five years
ago."
THREE PARTNERS. 321
" All right," said Demorest, with a kin-
dling eye ; " I suppose we 'd better start at
once. One moment," he added. " Barker
boy, will you excuse me if I speak a word to
Hamlin ? " As Barker nodded and walked
to the rails of the veranda, Demorest took
Hamlin aside. " You and I," he said hur-
riedly, " are single men ; Barker has a wife
and child. This is likely to be no child's
play."
But Jack Hamlin was no fool, and from
certain leading questions which Barker had
already put, but which he had skillfully
evaded, he surmised that Barker knew some-
thing of his wife's escapade. He answered
a little more seriously than his wont, "I
don't think as regards his wife that would
make much difference to him or her how
etiff the work was."
Demorest turned away with his last pang
of bitterness. It needed only this confirma-
tion of all that Stacy had hinted, of what
he himself had seen in his brief interview
with Mrs. Barker since his return, to shake
his last remaining faith. " We '11 all go to-
gether, then," he said, with a laugh, " as in
the old times, and perhaps it 's as well that
we have no woman in our confidence."
322 THREE PARTNERS.
An hour later the three men passed
quietly out of the hotel, scarcely noticed by
the other guests, who were also oblivious of
their absence during the evening. For Mrs.
Barker, quite recovered from her fatiguing
ride, was in high spirits and the most beau-
tiful and spotless of summer gowns, and
was considered quite a heroine by the other
ladies as she dwelt upon the terrible heat
of her return journey. " Only I knew Mr.
Barker would be worried and the poor
man actually walked a mile down the Di-
vide road to meet me I believe I should
have stayed there all day." She glanced
round the other groups for Mrs. Horncastle,
but that lady had retired early. Possibly
she alone had noticed the absence of the two
partners.
The guests sat up until quite late, for the
heat seemed to grow still more oppressive,
and the strange smell of burning wood revived
the gossip about Mrs. Van Loo and her stu-
pidity in setting fire to her chimney. Some
averred that it would be days before the
smell could be got out of the house ; others
referred it to the fires in the woods, which
were now dangerously near. One spoke of
THREE PARTNERS. 323
the isolated position of the hotel as affording
the greatest security, but was met by the
assertion of a famous mountaineer that the
forest fires were wont to leap from crest to
crest mysteriously, without any apparent con-
tinuous contact. This led to more or less
light-hearted conjecture of present danger
and some amusing stories of hotel fires and
their ludicrous revelations. There were also
some entertaining speculations as to what
they would do and what they would try to
save in such an emergency.
" For myself," said Mrs. Barker auda-
ciously, " I should certainly let Mr. Barker
look after Sta and confine myself entirely to
getting away with my diamonds. I know
the wretch would never think -of them."
It was still later when, exhausted by the
heat and some reaction from the excitement
of the day, they at last deserted the veranda
for their rooms, and for a while the shadowy
bulk of the whole building was picked out
with regularly spaced lights from its open
windows, until now these finally faded and
went out one by one. An hour later the
whole building had sunk to rest. It was
said that it was only four in the morning
324 THREE PARTNERS.
when a yawning porter, having put out the
light in a dark, upper corridor, was amazed
by a dull glow from the top of the wall, and
awoke to the fact that a red fire, as yet
smokeless and flameless, was creeping along
the cornice. He ran to the office and gave
the alarm ; but on returning with assistance
was stopped in the corridor by an impene-
trable wall of smoke veined with murky
flashes. The alarm was given in all the
lower loors, and the occupants rushed from
their oeds half dressed to the courtyard,
only 10 see, as they afterwards averred, the
flames burst like cannon discharges from
the upper windows and unite above the
crackling roof. So sudden and complete
was the catastrophe, although slowly pre-
pared by a leak in the overheated chimney
between the floors, that even the excitement
of fear and exertion was spared the surviv-
ors. There was bewilderment and stupor,
but neither uproar nor confusion. People
found themselves wandering in the woods,
half awake and half dressed, having de-
scended from the balconies and leaped from
the windows, they knew not how. Others
on the upper floor neither awoke nor moved
THESE PARTNERS. 325
from their beds, but were suffocated without
a cry. From the first an instinctive idea of
the hopelessness of combating the conflagra-
tion possessed them all ; to a blind, automatic
feeling to flee the building was added the
slow mechanism of the somnambulist ; deli-
cate women walked speechlessly, but securely,
along ledges and roofs from which they
would have fallen by the mere light of rea-
son and of day. There was no crowding or
impeding haste in their dumb exodus. It
was only when Mrs. Barker awoke dishev-
eled in the courtyard, and with an hysterical
outcry rushed back into the hotel, that there
was any sign of panic.
Mrs. Horncastle, who was standing near,
fully dressed as from some night-long vigil,
quickly followed her. The half-frantic wo-
man was making directly for her own apart-
ments, whose windows those in the courtyard
could see were already belching smoke. Sud-
denly Mrs. Horncastle stopped with a bitter
cry and clasped her forehead. It had just
flashed upon her that Mrs. Barker had told
her only a few hours before that Sta had
been removed with the nurse to the upper
floor ! It was not the forgotten child that
326 THREE PARTNERS.
Mrs. Barker was returning for, but her dia-
monds ! Mrs. Horncastle called her ; she
did not reply. The smoke was already pour-
ing down the staircase. Mrs. Horncastle
hesitated for a moment only, and then,
drawing a long breath, dashed up the stairs.
On the first landing she stumbled over some-
thing the prostrate figure of the nurse.
But this saved her, for she found that near
the floor she could breathe more freely.
Before her appeared to be an open door.
She crept along towards it on her hands
and knees. The frightened cry of a child,
awakened from its sleep in the dark, gave
her nerve to rise, enter the room, and dash
open the window. By the flashing light she
could see a little figure rising from a bed.
It was Sta. There was not a moment to
be lost, for the open window was beginning
to draw the smoke from the passage. Luck-
ily, the boy, by some childish instinct, threw
his arms round her neck and left her hands
free. Whispering him to hold tight, she
clambered out of the window. A narrow
ledge of cornice scarcely wide enough for
her feet ran along the house to a distant
balcony. With her back to the house she
THESE PARTNERS. 327
zigzagged her feet along the cornice to get
away from the smoke, which now poured
directly from the window. Then she grew
dizzy ; the weight of the child on her bosom
seemed to be toppling her forward towards
the abyss below. She closed her eyes, fran-
tically grasping the child with crossed arms
on her breast as she stood on the ledge,
until, as seen from below through the twist-
ing smoke, they might have seemed a figure
of the Madonna and Child niched in the
wall. Then a voice from above called to
her, " Courage ! " and she felt the flap of a
twisted sheet lowered from an upper window
against her face. She grasped it eagerly;
it held firmly. Then she heard a cry from
below, saw them carrying a ladder, and at
last was lifted with her burden from the
ledge by powerful hands. Then only did
she raise her eyes to the upper window
whence had come her help. Smoke and
flame were pouring from it. The unknown
hero who had sacrificed his only chance of
escape to her remained forever unknown.
**
Only four miles away that night a group
of men were waiting for the dawn in the
328 THREE PARTNERS.
shadow of a pine near Heavy Tree Bar.
As the sky glowed redly over the crest be-
tween them and Hymettus, Hamlin said :
" Another one of those forest fires. It 's
this side of Black Spur, and a big one, I
reckon."
"Do you know," said Barker thought-
fully, " I was thinking of the time the old
cabin burnt up on Heavy Tree. It looks to
be about in the same place."
"Hush ! " said Stacy sharply.
CHAPTER IX.
AN abandoned tunnel an irregular ori-
fice in the mountain flank which looked like
a dried-up sewer that had disgorged through
its opening the refuse of the mountain in
red slime, gravel, and a peculiar clay known
as " cement," in a foul streak down its side ;
a narrow ledge on either side, broken up by
heaps of quartz, tailings, and rock, and half
hidden in scrub, oak, and myrtle ; a decay-
ing cabin of logs, bark, and cobblestones
these made up the exterior of the Marshall
claim. To this defacement of the moun-
tain, the rude clearing of thicket and under-
brush by fire or blasting, the lopping of
tree-boughs and the decapitation of saplings,
might be added the debris and ruins of half-
civilized occupancy. The ground before the
cabin was covered with broken boxes, tin
cans, the staves and broken hoops of casks,
and the cast-off rags of blankets and cloth-
ing. The whole claim in its unsavory, un-
330 THREE PAETNEES.
picturesque details, and its vulgar story of
sordid, reckless, and selfish occupancy and
abandonment, was a foul blot on the land-
scape, which the first rosy dawn only made
the more offending. Surely the last spot
in the world that men should quarrel and
fight for !
So thought George Barker, as with his
companions they moved in single file slowly
towards it. The little party consisted only
of himself, Demorest, and Stacy ; Marshall
and Hamlin according to a prearranged
plan were still in ambush to join them
at the first appearance of Steptoe and his
gang. The claim was yet unoccupied ; they
had secured their first success. Steptoe's
followers, unaware that his design had been
discovered, and confident that they could
easily reach the claim before Marshall and
the surveyor, had lingered. Some of them
had held a drunken carouse at their rendez-
vous at Heavy Tree. Others were still en-
gaged in procuring shovels and picks and
pans for their mock equipment as miners,
and this, again, gave Marshall's adherents
the advantage. They knew that their op-
ponents would probably first approach the
THESE PAETNEES. 331
empty claim encumbered only with their
peaceful implements, while they themselves
had brought their rifles with them.
Stacy, who by tacit consent led the
party, on reaching the claim at once posted
Demorest and Barker each behind a sepa-
rate heap of quartz tailings on the ledge,
which afforded them a capital breastwork,
and stationed himself at the mouth of the
tunnel wHich was nearest the trail. It had
already been arranged what each man was
to do. They were in possession. For the
rest they must wait. What they thought
at that moment no one knew. Their char-
acteristic appearance had slightly changed.
The melancholy and philosophic Demorest
was alert and bitter. Barker's changeful
face had become fixed and steadfast. Stacy
alone wore his " fighting look," which the
others had remembered.
They had not long to wait. The sounds
of rude laughter, coarse skylarking, and
voices more or less still confused with half-
spent liquor came from the rocky trail.
And then Stcptoe appeared with part of his
straggling followers, who were celebrating
their easy invasion by clattering their picks
332 THREE PARTNERS.
and shovels and beating loudly upon their
tins and prospecting-pans. The three part-
ners quickly recognized the stamp of the
strangers, in spite of their peaceful imple-
ments. They were the waifs and strays of
San Francisco wharves, of Sacramento dens,
of dissolute mountain towns ; and there was
not, probably, a single actual miner among
them. A raging scorn and contempt took
possession of Barker and Demorest, but
Stacy knew their exact value. As Steptoe
passed before the opening of the tunnel he
heard the cry of " Halt ! "
He looked up. He saw Stacy not thirty
yards before him with his rifle at half-cock.
He saw Barker and Demorest, fully armed,
rise from behind their breastworks of rock
along the ledge and thus fully occupy the
claim. But he saw more. He saw that his
plot was known. Outlaw and desperado as
he was, he saw that he had lost his moral
power in this actual possession, and that
from that moment he must be the aggressor.
He saw he was fighting no irresponsible
hirelings like his own, but men of position
and importance, whose loss would make a
stir. Against their rifles the few revolvers
THREE PARTNERS. 833
that liis men chanced to have slung to them
were of little avail. But he was not cowed,
although his few followers stumbled together
at this momentary check, half angrily, half
timorously like wolves without a leader.
" Bring up the other men and their guns,"
he whispered fiercely to the nearest. Then
he faced Stacy.
" Who are you to stop peaceful miners
going to work on their own claim ? " he said
coarsely. " I '11 tell you who, boys," he
added, suddenly turning to his men with a
hoarse laugh. " It ain't even the bank !
It 's only Jim Stacy, that the bank kicked
out yesterday to save itself, Jim Stacy
and his broken-down pals. And what 's the
thief doing here in Marshall's tunnel
the only spot that Marshall can claim ? We
ain't no particular friends o' Marshall's,
though we 're neighbors on the same claim ;
but we ain't going to see Marshall ousted by
tramps. Are we, boys ? "
" No, by G d ! " said his followers, drop-
ping the pans and seizing their picks and
revolvers. They understood the appeal to
arms if not to their reason. For an instant
the fight seemed imminent. Then a voice
from behind them said :
334 THREE PARTNERS.
" You need n't trouble yourselves about
that ! I'm Marshall ! I sent these gentle-
men to occupy the claim until I came here
with the surveyor," and two men stepped
from a thicket of myrtle in the rear of Step-
toe and his followers. The speaker, Mar-
shall, was a thin, slight, overworked, over-
aged man ; his companion, the surveyor, was
equally slight, but red-bearded, spectacled,
and professional-looking, with a long trav-
eling-duster that made him appear even
clerical. They were scarcely a physical
addition to Stacy's party, whatever might
have been their moral and legal support.
But it was just this support that Steptoe
strangely clung to in his designs for the
future, and a wild idea seized him. The
surveyor was really the only disinterested
witness between the two parties. If Step-
toe could confuse his mind before the actual
fighting from which he would, of course,
escape as a non-combatant it would go
far afterwards to rehabilitate Steptoe' s party.
" Very well, then," he said to Marshall, " I
shall call this gentleman to witness that we
have been attacked here in peaceable pos-
session of our part of the claim by these
THREE PARTNERS. 836
armed strangers, and whether they are act-
ing on your order or not, their blood will be
on your head."
" Then I reckon," said the surveyor, as
he tore away his beard, wig, spectacles, and
mustache, and revealed the figure of Jack
Hamlin, " that I 'm about the last witness
that Mr. Steptoe-Horncastle ought to call,
and about the last witness that he ever will
call!"
But he had not calculated upon the des-
peration of Steptoe over the failure of this
last hope. For there sprang up in the out-
law's brain the same hideous idea that he
voiced to his companions at the Divide.
With a hoarse cry to his followers, he crashed
his pickaxe into the brain of Marshall, who
stood near him, and sprang forward. Three
or four shots were exchanged. Two of his
men fell, a bullet from Stacy's rifle pierced
Steptoe's leg, and he dropped forward on one
knee. He heard the steps of his reinforce-
ments with their weapons coming close behind
him, and rolled aside on the sloping ledge to
let them pass. But he rolled too far. He
felt himself slipping down the mountain-side
in the slimy shoot of the tunnel. He made a
830 THESE PARTNERS.
desperate attempt to recover himself, "but the
treacherous drift of the loose debris rolled
with him, as if he were part of its refuse,
and, carrying him down, left him uncon-
scious, but otherwise uninjured, in the bushes
of the second ledge five hundred feet below.
When he recovered his senses the shouts
and outcries above him had ceased. He
knew he was safe. The ledge could only be
reached by a circuitous route three miles
away. He knew, too, that if he could only
reach a point of outcrop a hundred yards
away he could easily descend to the stage
road, down the gentle slope of the mountain
hidden in a growth of hazel-brush. He
bound up his wounded leg, and dragged him-
self on his hands and knees laboriously to
the outcrop. He did not look up ; since his
pick had crashed into Marshall's brain he
had but one blind thought before him to
escape at once ! That his revenge and com-
pensation would come later he never doubted.
He limped and crept, rolled and fell, from
bush to bush through the sloping thickets,
until he saw the red road a few feet below
him.
If he only had a horse he could put miles
THREE PARTNERS. 337
between him and any present pursuit!
Why should he not have one ? The road
was frequented by solitary horsemen
miners and Mexicans. He had his revolver
with him ; what mattered the life of another
man if he escaped from the consequences of
the one he had just taken ? He heard the
clatter of hoofs ; two priests on mules rode
slowly by ; he ground his teeth with disap-
pointment. But they had scarcely passed
before another and more rapid clatter came
from their rear. It was a lad on horseback.
He started. It was his own son !
He remembered in a flash how the boy
had said he was coming to meet the padre
at the station on that day. His first im-
pulse was to hide himself, his wound, and
his defeat from the lad, but the blind idea
of escape was still paramount. He leaned
over the bank and called to him. The as-
tonished lad cantered eagerly to his side.
" Give me your horse, Eddy," said the
father ; " I 'm in bad luck, and must get."
The boy glanced at his father's face, at
his tattered garments and bandaged leg,
and read the whole stoiy. It was a familiar
page to him. He paled first and then flushed,
338 THESE PAETNEES.
and then, with an odd glitter in his eyes,
said, " Take me with you, father. Do !
You always did before. I '11 bring you.
luck."
Desperation is superstitious. Why not
take him ? They had been lucky before,
and the two together might confound any
description of their identity to the pursuers.
" Help me up, Eddy, and then get up before
me."
" Behind, you mean," said the boy, with
a laugh, as he helped his father into the
saddle.
" No," said Steptoe harshly. " Before
me, do you hear ? And if anything hap-
pens behind you, don't look ! If I drop off,
don't stop! Don't get down, but go on
and leave me. Do you understand ? " he
repeated almost savagely.
" Yes," said the boy tremulously.
" All right," said the father, with a softer
voice, as he passed his one arm round the
boy's body and lifted the reins. " Hold
tight when we come to the cross-roads, for
we '11 take the first turn, for old luck's sake,
to the Mission."
They were the last words exchanged be-
THESE PARTNERS. 339
tween them, for as they wheeled rapidly to
the left at the cross-roads, Jack Hamlin and
Demorest swung as quickly out of another
road to the right immediately behind them.
Jack's challenge to " Halt ! " was only an-
swered by Step toe's horse springing forward
under the sharp lash of the riata.
" Hold up ! " said Jack suddenly, laying
his hand upon the rifle which Demorest had
lifted to his shoulder. " He 's carrying
some one, a wounded comrade, I reckon.
We don't want him. Swing out and go for
the horse ; well forward, in the neck or
shoulder."
Demorest swung far out to the right of
the road and raised his rifle. As it cracked
Steptoe's horse seemed to have suddenly
struck some obstacle ahead of him rather
than to have been hit himself , for his head
went down with his fore feet under him, and
he turned a half -somersault on the road,
flinging his two riders a dozen feet away.
Steptoe scrambled to his knees, revolver
in hand, but the other figure never moved.
" Hands up ! " said Jack, sighting his own
weapon. The reports seemed simultaneous,
but Jack's bullet had pierced Steptoe's brain
340 THREE PARTNERS.
even before the outlaw's pistol exploded
harmlessly in the air.
The two men dismounted, but by a com-
mon instinct they both ran to the prostrate
figure that had never moved.
" By God ! it 's a boy ! " said Jack, lean-
ing over the body and lifting the shoulders
from which the head hung loosely. " Neck
broken and dead as his pal." Suddenly he
started, and, to Demorest's astonishment,
began hurriedly pulling off the glove from
the boy's limp right hand.
" What are you doing ? " demanded De-
morest in creeping horror.
" Look ! " said Jack, as he laid bare the
small white hand. The first two fingers
were merely unsightly stumps that had been
hidden in the padded glove.
' Good God ! Van Loo's brother ! " said
Demorest, recoiling.
" No ! " said Jack, with a grim face, " it 's
what I have long suspected, it 's Steptoe's
son!"
" His son ? " repeated Demorest.
" Yes," said Jack ; and he added, after
looking at the two bodies with a long-drawn
whistle of concern, " and I would n't, if I
were you, say anything of this to Barker."
TUREE PARTNERS. 341
" Why ? " said Demorest.
" Well," returned Jack, " when our
scrimmage was over down there, and they
brought the news to Barker that his wife
and her diamonds were burnt up at the
hotel, you remember that they said that
Mrs. Horncastle had saved his boy."
" Yes," said Demorest ; " but what has
that to do with it ? "
" Nothing, I reckon," said Jack, with a
slight shrug of his shoulders, " only Mrs.
Horncastle was the mother of the boy that 's
lying there."
Two years later as Demorest and Stacy
sat before the fire in the old cabin on Mar-
shall's claim now legally their own
they looked from the door beyond the great
bulk of Black Spur to the pallid snow-line
of the Sierras, still as remote and unchanged
to them as when they had gazed upon it
from Heavy Tree Hill. And, for the mat-
ter of that, they themselves seemed to have
been left so unchanged that even now, as
in the old days, it was Barker's voice as he
greeted them from the darkening trail
alone broke their reverie.
842 THREE PARTNEE8.
" "Well," said Demorest cheerfully, " your
usual luck, Barker boy ! " for they already
saw in his face the happy light they had
once seen there on an eventful night seven
years ago.
" I 'm to be married to Mrs. Horncastle
next month," he said breathlessly, " and
little Sta loves her already as if she was
his own mother. Wish me joy."
A slight shadow passed over Stacy's face ;
but his hand was the first to grasp Barker's,
and his voice the first to say " Amen I "
UNDER THE REDWOODS
CONTENTS
rial
JIMMY'S Bio BBOTHEE FHOM CALIFORNIA . . 1
THE YOUNGEST Miss PIPEE .... 39
A WIDOW OF THE SANTA ANA VALLEY . .71
THE MKUMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT . . 103
UNDEK THE EAVES 140
How REUBEN ALLEN " SAW LIFE " IN SAN FBAH-
cisco 177
THKEE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD . . . .211
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN .... 237
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE ..... 257
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO . . . 298
UNDER THE REDWOODS
JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER FROM
CALIFORNIA
As night crept up from the valley that
stormy afternoon, Sawyer's Ledge was at
first quite blotted out by wind and rain,
but presently reappeared in little nebulous
star-like points along the mountain side, as
the straggling cabins of the settlement were
one by one lit up by the miners returning
from tunnel and claim. These stars were
of varying brilliancy that evening, two no-
tably so one that eventually resolved it-
self into a many-candled illumination of a
cabin of evident festivity; the other into a
glimmering taper in the window of a silent
one. They might have represented the ex-
treme mutations of fortune in the settlement
that night: the celebration of a strike by
Robert Falloner, a lucky miner; and the
sick-bed of Dick Lasham, an unlucky one.
2 JIMMTS BIG BROTHER
The latter was, however, not quite alone.
He was ministered to by Daddy Folsom, a
weak but emotional and aggressively hope-
ful neighbor, who was sitting beside the
wooden bunk whereon the invalid lay. Yet
there was something perfunctory in his atti-
tude: his eyes were continually straying to
the window, whence the illuminated Falloner
festivities could be seen between the trees,
and his ears were more intent on the songs
and laughter that came faintly from the
distance than on the feverish breathing and
unintelligible moans of the sufferer.
Nevertheless, he looked troubled equally
by the condition of his charge and by his
own enforced absence from the revels. A
more impatient moan from the sick man,
however, brought a change to his abstracted
face, and he turned to him with an exagger-
ated expression of sympathy.
"In course! Lordy! I know jest what
those pains are: kinder ez ef you was havin'
a tooth pulled that had roots branchin' all
over ye ! My ! I 've jest had 'em so bad I
couldn't keep from yellin' ! That's hot
rheumatics! Yes, sir, I oughter know!
And" (confidentially) "the sing'ler thing
about 'em is that they get worse jest as
FROM CALIFORNIA 3
they 're going off sorter wringin' yer
hand and punchin' ye in the back to say
' Good-by. ' There!" he continued, as the
man sank exhaustedly back on his rude pil-
low of flour-sacks. "There! didn't I tell
ye ? Ye '11 be all right in a minit, and ez
chipper ez a jay bird in the mornin'. Oh,
don't tell me about rheumatics I 've bin
thar! On'y mine was the cold kind that
hangs on longest yours is the hot, that
burns itself up in no time! "
If the flushed face and bright eyes of
Lasham were not enough to corroborate this
symptom of high fever, the quick, wander-
ing laugh he gave would have indicated the
point of delirium. But the too optimistic
Daddy Folsom referred this act to improve-
ment, and went on cheerfully: "Yes, sir,
you 're better now, and " here he assumed
an air of cautious deliberation, extravagant,
as all his assumptions were "I ain't say-
in' that ef you was to rise
up" (very slowly) "and heave a blanket or
two over your shoulders jest by way o'
caution, you know and leanin' on me,
kinder meander over to Bob Falloner's cabin
and the boys, it would n't do you a heap o'
good. Changes o' this kind is often pre-
4 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
scribed by the faculty." Another moan from
the sufferer, however, here apparently cor-
rected Daddy's too favorable prognosis.
"Oh, all right! Well, perhaps ye know
best; and I'll jest run over to Bob's and
say how as ye ain't comin', and will be back
in a jiffy!"
"The letter," said the sick man hur-
riedly, "the letter, the letter! "
Daddy leaned suddenly over the bed. It
was impossible for even his hopefulness to
avoid the fact that Lasham was delirious.
It was a strong factor in the case one
that would certainly justify his going over
to Falloner's with the news. For the pre-
sent moment, however, this aberration was
to be accepted cheerfully and humored after
Daddy's own fashion. "Of course the
letter, the letter," he said convincingly;
"that's what the boys hev bin singin' jest
now
' Good-by, Charley ; when you are away,
Write me a letter, love ; send me a letter, love ! '
That 's what you heard, and a mighty purty
song it is too, and kinder clings to you.
It 's wonderful how these things gets in
your head."
" The letter write send money
FROM CALIFORNIA ft
money money, and the photograph the
photograph photograph money," con-
tinued the sick man, in the rapid reiteration
of delirium.
" In course you will to-morrow when
the mail goes," returned Daddy soothingly;
"plenty of them. Jest now you try to get a
snooze, will ye ? Hoi' on ! take some o'
this."
There was an anodyne mixture on the
rude shelf, which the doctor had left on his
morning visit. Daddy had a comfortable
belief that what would relieve pain would
also check delirium, and he accordingly
measured out a dose with a liberal margin
to allow of waste by the patient in swallow-
ing in his semi-conscious state. As he lay
more quiet, muttering still, but now unin-
telligibly, Daddy, waiting for a more com-
plete unconsciousness and the opportunity
to slip away to Falloner's, cast his eyes
around the cabin. He noticed now for the
first time since his entrance that a crumpled
envelope bearing a Western post-mark was
lying at the foot of the bed. Daddy knew
that the tri-weekly post had arrived an hour
before he came, and that Lasham had evi-
dently received a letter. Sure enough the
6 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
letter itself was lying against the wall be-
side him. It was open. Daddy felt justi-
fied in reading it.
It was curt and business-like, stating that
unless Lasham at once sent a remittance for
the support of his brother and sister two
children in charge of the writer they
must find a home elsewhere. That the ar-
rears were long standing, and the repeated
promises of Lasham to send money had
been unfulfilled. That the writer could
stand it no longer. This would be his last
communication unless the money were sent
forthwith.
It was by no means a novel or, under
the circumstances, a shocking disclosure to
Daddy. He had seen similar missives from
daughters, and even wives, consequent on
the varying fortunes of his neighbors; no
one knew better than he the uncertainties
of a miner's prospects, and yet the inevi-
table hopefulness that buoyed him up. He
tossed it aside impatiently, when his eye
caught a strip of paper he had overlooked
lying upon the blanket near the envelope.
It contained a few lines in an unformed
boyish hand addressed to "my brother,"
and evidently slipped into the letter after it
FROM CALIFORNIA "
was written. By the uncertain candlelight
Daddy read as follows :
Dear Brother, Rite to me and Cissy rite
off. Why aint you done it? It's so long
since you rote any. Mister Recketts ses
you dont care any more. Wen you rite
send your fotograff. Folks here ses I aint
got no big bruther any way, as I disre-
member his looks, and cant say wots like
him. Cissy's kryin' all along of it. I 've
got a hedake. William Walker make it
ake by a bio. So no more at present from
your loving little bruther Jim.
The quick, hysteric laugh with which
Daddy read this was quite consistent with
his responsive, emotional nature; so, too,
were the ready tears that sprang to his eyes.
He put the candle down unsteadily, with a
casual glance at the sick man. It was no-
table, however, that this look contained less
sympathy for the ailing "big brother " than
his emotion might have suggested. For
Daddy was carried quite away by his own
mental picture of the helpless children, and
eager only to relate his impressions of the
incident. He cast another glance at the
8 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
invalid, thrust the papers into his pocket,
and clapping on his hat slipped from the
cabin and ran to the house of festivity.
Yet it was characteristic of the man, and so
engrossed was he by his one idea, that to
the usual inquiries regarding his patient he
answered, "He 's all right," and plunged at
once into the incident of the dunning letter,
reserving with the instinct of an emo-
tional artist the child's missive until the
last. As he expected, the money demand
was received with indignant criticisms of
the writer.
"That 's just like 'em in the States," said
Captain Fletcher; "darned if they don't
believe we 've only got to bore a hole in the
ground and snake out a hundred dollars.
Why, there 's my wife with a heap of
hoss sense in everything else is allus won-
derin' why I can't rake in a cool fifty be-
twixt one steamer day and another."
"That's nothin' to my old dad," inter-
rupted Gus Houston, the "infant" of the
camp, a bright-eyed young fellow of twenty;
"why, he wrote to me yesterday that if I 'd
only pick up a single piece of gold every
day and just put it aside, sayin' ' That 's for
popper and rnommer,' and not fool it away
it would be all they 'd ask of me."
FROM CALIFORNIA
"That's so," added another; "these ig-
norant relations is just the ruin o' the min-
ing industry. Bob Falloner hez bin lucky
in his strike to-day, but he 's a darned sight
luckier in being without kith or kin that he
knows of."
Daddy waited until the momentary irrita-
tion had subsided, and then drew the other
letter from his pocket. "That ain't all,
boys," he began in a faltering voice, but
gradually working himself up to a pitch of
pathos; "just as I was thinking all them
very things, I kinder noticed this yer poor
little bit o' paper lyin' thar lonesome like
and forgotten, and I read it and well
gentlemen it just choked me right
up! " He stopped, and his voice faltered.
"Go slow, Daddy, go slow! " said an au-
ditor smilingly. It was evident that Dad-
dy's sympathetic weakness was well known.
Daddy read the child's letter. But, un-
fortunately, what with his real emotion and
the intoxication of an audience, he read it
extravagantly, and interpolated a child's
lisp (on no authority whatever), and a sim-
ulated infantile delivery, which, I fear, at
first provoked the smiles rather than the
tears of his audience. Nevertheless, at its
10 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
conclusion the little note was handed round
the party, and then there was a moment of
thoughtful silence.
"Tell you what it is, boys," said Fletcher,
looking around the table, "we ought to be
doin' suthin' for them kids right off! Did
you," turning to Daddy, "say anythin'
about this to Dick?"
"Nary why, he's clean off his head
with fever don't understand a word
and just babbles," returned Daddy, forget-
ful of his roseate diagnosis a moment ago,
"and hasn't got a cent."
" We must make up what we can amongst
us afore the mail goes to-night," said the
"infant," feeling hurriedly in his pockets.
"Come, ante up, gentlemen," he added, lay-
ing the contents of his buckskin purse upon
the table.
"Hold on, boys," said a quiet voice. It
was their host Falloner, who had just risen
and was slipping on his oilskin coat.
"You've got enough to do, I reckon, to
look after your own folks. I 've none !
Let this be my affair. I 've got to go to
the Express Office anyhow to see about my
passage home, and I '11 just get a draft for
a hundred dollars for that old skeesicks
FROM CALIFORNIA 11
what 's his blamed name ? Oh, Ricketts "
he made a memorandum from the letter
"and I'll send it by express. Mean-
time, you fellows sit down there and write
something you know what saying that
Dick 's hurt his hand and can't write you
know; but asked you to send a draft, which
you're doing. Sabe? That's all! I'll
skip over to the express now and get the
draft off, and you can mail the letter an
hour later. So put your dust back in your
pockets and help yourselves to the whiskey
while I 'm gone." He clapped his hat on
his head and disappeared.
"There goes a white man, you bet! " said
Fletcher admiringly, as the door closed be-
hind their host. "Now, boys," he added,
drawing a chair to the table, "let 's get this
yer letter off, and then go back to our
game."
Pens and ink were produced, and an ani-
mated discussion ensued as to the matter to
be conveyed. Daddy's plea for an extended
explanatory and sympathetic communica-
tion was overruled, and the letter was writ-
ten to Ricketts on the simple lines sug-
gested by Falloner.
"But what about poor little Jim's letter?
12 JIMMTS BIG BROTHER
That ought to be answered," said Daddy
pathetically.
"If Dick hurt his hand so he can't write
to Ricketts, how in thunder is he goin' to
write to Jim? " was the reply.
"But suthin' oughter be said to the poor
kid," urged Daddy piteously.
"Well, write it yourself you and Gus
Houston make up somethin' together. I 'm
going to win some money," retorted Fletcher,
returning to the card-table, where he was
presently followed by all but Daddy and
Houston.
"Ye can't write it in Dick's name, be-
cause that little brother knows Dick's hand-
writing, even if he don't remember his face.
See?" suggested Houston.
"That's so," said Daddy dubiously;
"but," he added, with elastic cheerfulness,
"we can write that Dick * says.' See?"
"Your head's level, old man! Just you
wade in on that."
Daddy seized the pen and "waded in."
Into somewhat deep and difficult water,
I fancy, for some of it splashed into his
eyes, and he sniffled once or twice as he
wrote. "Suthin' like this," he said, after a
pause :
FROM CALIFORNIA 13
DEAR LITTLE JIMMIE, Your big bro-
ther havin' hurt his hand, wants me to tell
you that other ways he is all hunky and Al.
He says he don't forget you and little Cissy,
you bet! and he 's seudin' money to old
Ricketts straight off. He says don't you
and Cissy mind whether school keeps or not
as long as big Brother Dick holds the lines.
He says he 'd have written before, but he 's
bin f oiler in' up a lead mighty close, and
expects to strike it rich in a few days.
"You ain't got no sabe about kids," said
Daddy imperturbably; "they've got to be
humored like sick folks. And they want
everythin' big they don't take no stock
in things ez they are even ef they hev
'em worse than they are. ' So,' " continued
Daddy, reading to prevent further interrup-
tion, "' he says you 're just to keep your
eyes skinned lookin' out for him comin'
home any time day or night. All you 've
got to do is to sit up and wait. He might
come and even snake you out of your beds !
He might come with four white horses and
a nigger driver, or he might come disguised
as an ornary tramp. Only you 've got to
be keen on watchin'.' (Ye see," inter-
14 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
rupted Daddy explanatorily, " that '11 jest
keep them kids lively.) ' He says Cis-
sy's to stop cryin' right off, and if Willie
Walker hits yer on the right cheek you just
slug out with your left fist, 'cordin' to
Scripter.' Gosh," ejaculated Daddy, stop-
ping suddenly and gazing anxiously at
Houston, "there's that blamed photograph
I clean forgot that."
"And Dick hasn't got one in the shop,
and never had," returned Houston emphati-
cally. "Golly! that stumps us! Unless,"
he added, with diabolical thoughtfulness,
"we take Bob's? The kids don't remember
Dick's face, and Bob 's about the same age.
And it 's a regular star picture you bet!
Bob had it taken in Sacramento in all his
war paint. See ! " He indicated a photo-
graph pinned against the wall a really
striking likeness which did full justice to
Bob's long silken mustache and large,
brown determined eyes. "I '11 snake it off
while they ain't lookin', and you jam it in
the letter. Bob won't miss it, and we can
fix it up with Dick after he 's well, and send
another."
Daddy silently grasped the "infant's"
hand, who presently secured the photograph
FROM CALIFORNIA 15
without attracting attention from the card-
players. It was promptly inclosed in the
letter, addressed to Master James Lasham.
The "infant" started with it to the post-
office, and Daddy Folsom returned to Lash-
am 's cabin to relieve the watcher that had
been detached from Falloner's to take his
place beside the sick man.
Meanwhile the rain fell steadily and the
shadows crept higher and higher up the
mountain. Towards midnight the star
points faded out one by one over Sawyer's
Ledge even as they had come, with the dif-
ference that the illumination of Falloner's
cabin was extinguished first, while the dim
light of Lasham 's increased in number.
Later, two stars seemed to shoot from the
centre of the ledge, trailing along the de-
scent, until they were lost in the obscurity
of the slope the lights of the stage-coach
to Sacramento carrying the mail and Rob-
ert Falloner. They met and passed two
fainter lights toiling up the road the
buggy lights of the doctor, hastily sum-
moned from Carterville to the bedside of
the dying Dick Lasham.
The slowing up of his train caused Bob
16 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
Falloner to start from a half doze in a
Western Pullman car. As he glanced from
his window he could see that the blinding
snowstorm which had followed him for the
past six hours had at last hopelessly blocked
the line. There was no prospect beyond
the interminable snowy level, the whirling
flakes, and the monotonous palisades of
leafless trees seen through it to the distant
banks of the Missouri. It was a prospect
that the mountain -bred Falloner was begin-
ning to loathe, and 1 although it was scarcely
six weeks since he left California, he was
already looking back regretfully to the deep
slopes and the free song of the serried ranks
of pines.
The intense cold had chilled his temperate
blood, even as the rigors and conventions
of Eastern life had checked his sincerity
and spontaneous flow of animal spirits be-
gotten in the frank intercourse and brother-
hood of camps. He had just fled from the
artificialities of the great Atlantic cities to
seek out some Western farming lauds in
which he might put his capital and energies.
The unlooked-for interruption of his pro-
gress by a long-forgotten climate only deep-
ened his discontent. And now that train
FROM CALIFORNIA 17
was actually backing! It appeared they
must return to the last station to wait for
a snow-plough to clear the line. It was,
explained the conductor, barely a mile from
Shepherdstown, where there was a good
hotel and a chance of breaking the journey
for the night.
Shepherdstown ! The name touched some
dim chord in Bob Falloner's memory and
conscience yet one that was vague. Then
he suddenly remembered that before leaving
New York he had received a letter from
Houston informing him of Lasham's death,
reminding him of his previous bounty, and
begging him if he went West to break
the news to the Lasham family. There was
also some allusion to a joke about his (Bob's)
photograph, which he had dismissed as un-
important, and even now could not remem-
ber clearly. For a few moments his con-
science pricked him that he should have for-
gotten it all, but now he could make amends
by this providential delay. It was not a
task to his liking; in any other circum-
stances he would have written, but he would
not shirk it now.
Shepherdstown was on the main line of
the Kansas Pacific Road, and as he alighted
18 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
at its station, the big through trains from
San Francisco swept out of the stormy dis-
tance and stopped also. He remembered,
as he mingled with the passengers, hearing
a childish voice ask if this was the Califor-
nian train. He remembered hearing the
amused and patient reply of the station-
master: "Yes, sonny here she is again,
and here 's her passengers," as he got into
the omnibus and drove to the hotel. Here
he resolved to perform his disagreeable duty
as quickly as possible, and on his way to
his room stopped for a moment at the office
to ask for Bicketts' address. The clerk,
after a quick glance of curiosity at his new
guest, gave it to him readily, with a some-
what familiar smile. It struck Falloner
also as being odd that he had not been
asked to write his name on the hotel regis-
ter, but this was a saving of time he was
not disposed to question, as he had already
determined to make his visit to Ricketts at
once, before dinner. It was still early even-
ing.
He was washing his hands in his bedroom
when there came a light tap at his sitting-
room door. Falloner quickly resumed his
coat and entered the sitting-room as the
FROM CALIFORNIA 19
porter ushered in a young lady holding a
small boy by the hand. But, to Falloner's
utter consternation, no sooner had the door
closed on the servant than the boy, with
a half -apologetic glance at the young lady,
uttered a childish cry, broke from her, and
calling, "Dick! Dick!" ran forward and
leaped into Falloner's arms.
The mere shock of the onset and his own
amazement left Bob without breath for
words. The boy, with arms convulsively
clasping his body, was imprinting kisses
on Bob's waistcoat in default of reaching
his face. At last Falloner managed gently
but firmly to free himself, and turned a
half-appealing, half-embarrassed look upon
the young lady, whose own face, however,
suddenly flushed pink. To add to the con-
fusion, the boy, in some reaction of in-
stinct, suddenly ran back to her, frantically
clutched at her skirts, and tried to bury his
head in their folds.
"He don't love me," he sobbed. "He
don't care for me any more."
The face of the young girl changed. It
was a pretty face in its flushing; in the
paleness and thoughtfulness that overcast it
it was a striking face, and Bob's attention
20 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
was for a moment distracted from the gro-
tesqueness of the situation. Leaning over
the boy she said in a caressing yet authori-
tative voice, "Kun away for a moment,
dear, until I call you," opening the door
for him in a maternal way so inconsistent
with the youthfulness of her figure that it
struck him even in his confusion. There
was something also in her dress and car-
riage that equally affected him: her gar-
ments were somewhat old-fashioned in style,
yet of good material, with an odd incon-
gruity to the climate and season.
Under her rough outer cloak she wore a
polka jacket and the thinnest of summer
blouses; and her hat, though dark, was of
rough straw, plainly trimmed. Neverthe-
less, these peculiarities were carried off
with an air of breeding and self-possession
that was unmistakable. It was possible
that her cool self-possession might have
been due to some instinctive antagonism,
for as she came a step forward with coldly
and clearly -opened gray eyes, he was vaguely
conscious that she didn't like him. Never-
theless, her manner was formally polite,
even, as he fancied, to the point of irony,
as she began, in a voice that occasionally
FROM CALIFORNIA 21
dropped into the lazy Southern intonation,
and a speech that easily slipped at times
into Southern dialect :
"I sent the child out of the room, as I
could see that his advances were annoying
to you, and a good deal, I reckon, because
I knew your reception of them was still
more painful to him. It is quite natural, I
dare say, you should feel as you do, and I
reckon consistent with your attitude to-
wards him. But you must make some al-
lowance for the depth of his feelings, and
how he has looked forward to this meeting.
When I tell you that ever since he received
your last letter, he and his sister until
her illness kept her home have gone every
day when the Pacific train was due to the
station to meet you; that they have taken
literally as Gospel truth every word of your
letter "
"My letter?" interrupted Falloner.
The young girl's scarlet lip curled slightly.
" 1 beg your pardon I should have said
the letter you dictated. Of course it was n't
in your handwriting you had hurt your
hand, you know," she added ironically.
"At all events, they believed it all that
you were coming at any moment ; they lived
22 JIMMTS BIG BROTHER
in that belief, and the poor things went to
the station with your photograph in their
hands so that they might be the first to
recognize and greet you."
"With my photograph?" interrupted
Falloner again.
The young girl's clear eyes darkened
ominously. "I reckon," she said deliber-
ately, as she slowly drew from her pocket
the photograph Daddy Folsom had sent,
"that that is your photograph. It certainly
seems an excellent likeness," she added, re-
garding him with a slight suggestion of
contemptuous triumph.
In an instant the revelation of the whole
mystery flashed upon him! The forgotten
passage in Houston's letter about the stolen
photograph stood clearly before him; the
coincidence of his appearance in Shepherds-
town, and the natural mistake of the chil-
dren and their fair protector, were made
perfectly plain. But with this relief and
the certainty that he could confound her
with an explanation came a certain mis-
chievous desire to prolong the situation and
increase his triumph. She certainly had
not shown him any favor.
"Have you got the letter also?" he asked
quietly.
FROM CALIFORNIA 23
She whisked it impatiently from her
pocket and handed it to him. As he read
Daddy's characteristic extravagance and
recognized the familiar idiosyncrasies of his
old companions, he was unable to restrain
a smile. He raised his eyes, to meet with
surprise the fair stranger's leveled eyebrows
and brightly indignant eyes, in which, how-
ever, the rain was fast gathering with the
lightning.
"It may be amusing to you, and I reckon
likely it was all a California joke," she said
with slightly trembling lips; "I don't know
No'thern gentlemen and their ways, and
you seem to have forgotten our ways as you
have your kindred. Perhaps all this may
seem so funny to them: it may not seem
funny to that boy who is now crying his
heart out in the hall; it may not be very
amusing to that poor Cissy in her sick-bed
longing to see her brother. It may be so
far from amusing to her, that I should hesi-
tate to bring you there in her excited condi-
tion and subject her to the pain that you
have caused him. But I have promised
her; she is already expecting us, and the
disappointment may be dangerous, and I
can only implore you for a few moments
24 JIMMTS BIG BROTHER
at least to show a little more affection
than you feel." As he made an impulsive,
deprecating gesture, yet without changing
his look of restrained amusement, she
stopped him hopelessly. "Oh, of course,
yes, yes, I know it is years since you have
seen them; they have no right to expect
more; only only feeling as you do,"
she burst impulsively, " why oh, why did
you come? "
Here was Bob's chance. He turned to
her politely; began gravely, "I simply
came to " when suddenly his face
changed ; he stopped as if struck by a blow.
His cheek flushed, and then paled! Good
God! What had he come for? To tell
them that this brother they were longing for
living for perhaps even dying for
was dead! In his crass stupidity, his
wounded vanity over the scorn of the young
girl, his anticipation of triumph, he had
forgotten totally forgotten what that
triumph meant! Perhaps if he had felt
more keenly the death of Lasham the
thought of it would have been uppermost
in his mind ; but Lasham was not his part-
ner or associate, only a brother miner, and
his single act of generosity was in the ordi-
FROM CALIFORNIA 25
nary routine of camp life. If she could
think him cold and heartless before, what
would she think of him now? The ab-
surdity of her mistake had vanished in the
grim tragedy he had seemed to have cruelly
prepared for her. The thought struck him
so keenly that he stammered, faltered, and
sank helplessly into a chair.
The shock that he had received was so
plain to her that her own indignation went
out in the breath of it. Her lip quivered.
"Don't you mind," she said hurriedly,
dropping into her Southern speech; "I
did n't go to hurt you, but I was just that
mad with the thought of those pickaninnies,
and the easy way you took it, that I clean
forgot I 'd no call to catechise you ! And
you don't know me from the Queen of
Sheba. Well," she went on, still more
rapidly, and in odd distinction to her pre-
vious formal slow Southern delivery, "I'm
the daughter of Colonel Boutelle, of Bayou
Sara, Louisiana; and his paw, and his paw
before him, had a plantation there since the
time of Adam, but he lost it and six hun-
dred niggers during the Wah! We were
pooh as pohverty paw and maw and we
four girls and no more idea of work than
26 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
a baby. But I had an education at the
convent at New Orleans, and could play,
and speak French, and I got a place as
school-teacher here; I reckon the first
Southern woman that has taught school in
the No'th! Ricketts, who used to be our
steward at Bayou Sara, told me about the
pickaninnies, and how helpless they were,
with only a brother who occasionally sent
them money from California. I suppose
I cottoned to the pooh little things at first
because I knew what it was to be alone
amongst strangers, Mr. Lasham; I used to
teach them at odd times, and look after
them, and go with them to the train to look
for you. Perhaps Ricketts made me think
you didn't care for them; perhaps I was
wrong in thinking it was true, from the
way you met Jimmy just now. But I 've
spoken my mind and you know why."
She ceased and walked to the window.
Falloner rose. The storm that had swept
through him was over. The quick determi-
nation, resolute purpose, and infinite pa-
tience which had made him what he was
were all there, and with it a conscientious-
ness which his selfish independence had
hitherto kept dormant. He accepted the
FROM CALIFORNIA 27
situation, not passively it was not in his
nature but threw himself into it with all
his energy.
"You were quite right," he said, halting
a moment beside her; "I don't blame you,
and let me hope that later you may think
me less to blame than you do now. Now,
what's to be done? Clearly, I've first to
make it right with Tommy I mean Jimmy
and then we must make a straight dash
over to the girl! "Whoop!" Before she
could understand from his face the strange
change in his voice, he had dashed out of
tlie room. In a moment he reappeared with
the boy struggling in his arms. "Think of
the little scamp not knowing his own bro-
ther!" he laughed, giving the boy a really
affectionate, if slightly exaggerated hug,
"and expecting me to open my arms to the
first little boy who jumps into them! I 've
a great mind not to give him the present I
fetched all the way from California. Wait
a moment." He dashed into the bedroom,
opened his valise where he providentially
remembered he had kept, with a miner's
superstition, the first little nugget of gold
he had ever found seized the tiny bit of
quartz of gold, and dashed out again to dis-
play it before Jimmy's eager eyes.
28 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
If the heartiness, sympathy, and charm-
ing kindness of the man's whole manner
and face convinced, even while it slightly
startled, the young girl, it was still more
effective with the boy. Children are quick
to detect the false ring of affected emotion,
and Bob's was so genuine whatever its
cause that it might have easily passed
for a fraternal expression with harder crit-
ics. The child trustfully nestled against
him and would have grasped the gold, but
the young man whisked it into his pocket.
"Not until we 've shown it to our little sis-
ter where we 're going now ! I 'm off to
order a sleigh." He dashed out again to
the office as if he found some relief in ac-
tion, or, as it seemed to Miss Boutelle, to
avoid embarrassing conversation. When
he came back again he was carrying an im-
mense bearskin from his luggage. He cast
a critical look at the girl's unseasonable
attire."
" I shall wrap you and Jimmy in this
you know it 's snowing frightfully."
Miss Boutelle flushed a little. "I'm
warm enough when walking," she said
coldly. Bob glanced at her smart little
French shoes, and thought otherwise. He
FROM CALIFORNIA 29
said nothing, but hastily bundled his two
guests downstairs and into the street. The
whirlwind dance of the snow made the sleigh
an indistinct bulk in the glittering dark-
ness, and as the young girl for an instant
stood dazedly still, Bob incontinently lifted
her from her feet, deposited her in the vehi-
cle, dropped Jimmy in her lap, and wrapped
them both tightly in the bearskin. Her
weight, which was scarcely more than a
child's, struck him in that moment as being
tantalizingly incongruous to the matronly
severity of her manner and its strange effect
upon him. He then jumped in himself,
taking the direction from his companion,
and drove off through the storm.
The wind and darkness were not favor-
able to conversation, and only once did he
break the silence. "Is there any one who
would be likely to remember me where
we are going?" he asked, in a lull of the
Btorm.
Miss Boutelle uncovered enough of her
face to glance at him curiously. "Hardly!
You know the children came here from the
No'th after your mother's death, while you
were in California."
"Of course," returned Bob hurriedly;
33 JIMMY'S BIG BROTHER
"I was only thinking you know that
some of my old friends might have called,"
and then collapsed into silence.
After a pause a voice came icily, although
under the furs: "Perhaps you'd prefer
that your arrival be kept secret from the
public? But they seem to have already
recognized you at the hotel from your in-
quiry about Ricketts, and the photograph
Jimmy had already shown them two weeks
ago." Bob remembered the clerk's famil-
iar manner and the omission to ask him to
register. "But it need go no further, if
you like," she added, with a slight return
of her previous scorn.
"I 've no reason for keeping it secret,"
said Bob stoutly.
No other words were exchanged until the
sleigh drew up before a plain wooden house
in the suburbs of the town. Bob could see
at a glance that it represented the income
of some careful artisan or small shopkeeper,
and that it promised little for an invalid's
luxurious comfort. They were ushered into
a chilly sitting-room, and Miss Boutelle ran
upstairs with Jimmy to prepare the invalid
for Bob's appearance. He noticed that a
word dropped by the woman who opened
FROM CALIFORNIA 31
the door made the young girl's face grave
again, and paled the color that the storm
had buffeted to her cheek. He noticed also
that these plain surroundings seemed only
to enhance her own superiority, and that
the woman treated her with a deference in
odd contrast to the ill-concealed disfavor
with which she regarded him. Strangely
enough, this latter fact was a relief to his
conscience. It would have been terrible to
have received their kindness under false
pretenses; to take their just blame of the
man he personated seemed to mitigate the
deceit.
The young girl rejoined him presently
with troubled eyes. Cissy was worse, and
only intermittently conscious, but had asked
to see him. It was a short flight of stairs
to the bedroom, but before he reached it
Bob's heart beat faster than it had in any
mountain climb. In one corner of the
plainly furnished room stood a small truckle
bed, and in it lay the invalid. It needed
but a single glance at her flushed face in
its aureole of yellow hair to recognize the
likeness to Jimmy, although, added to that
strange refinement produced by suffering,
there was a spiritual exaltation in the child's
32 JIMMT8 BIG BROTHER
look possibly from delirium that awed
aiid frightened him; an awful feeling that
he could not lie to this hopeless creature
took possession of him, and his step fal-
tered. But she lifted her small arms pa-
thetically towards him as if she divined his
trouble, and he sank on his knees beside
her. With a tiny finger curled around his
long mustache, she lay there silent. Her
face was full of trustfulness, happiness, and
consciousness but she spoke no word.
There was a pause, and Falloner, slrghtly
lifting his head without disturbing that
faintly clasping finger, beckoned Miss Bou-
telle to his side. "Can you drive?" he
said, in a low voice.
"Yes."
"Take my sleigh and get the best doctor
in town to come here at once. Bring him
with you if you can; if he can't come at
once, drive home yourself. I will stay
here."
"But" hesitated Miss Boutelle.
"I will stay here," he repeated.
The door closed on the young girl, and
Falloner, still bending over the child, pre-
sently heard the sleigh-bells pass away in
the storm. He still sat with his bent head,
FROM CALIFORNIA 33
held by the tiny clasp of those thin fingers.
But the child's eyes were fixed so intently
upon him that Mrs. Kicketts leaned over
the strangely -assorted pair and said
"It 's your brother Dick, dearie. Don't
you know him?"
The child's lips moved faintly. "Dick 's
dead," she whispered.
"She's wandering," said Mrs. Ricketts.
"Speak to her." But Bob, with his eyes
on the child's, lifted a protesting hand.
The little sufferer's lips moved again. "It
is n't Dick it 's the angel God sent to tell
me."
She spoke no more. And when Miss
Boutelle returned with the doctor she was
beyond the reach of finite voices. Falloner
would have remained all night with them,
but he could see that his presence in the
contracted household was not desired. Even
his offer to take Jimmy with him to the
hotel was declined, and at midnight he re-
turned alone.
What his thoughts were that night may
be easily imagined. Cissy's death had re-
moved the only cause he had for concealing
his real identity. There was nothing more
to prevent his revealing all to Miss Boutelle
34 JIMMTS BIO BROTHER
and to offer to adopt the boy. But he re-
flected this could not be done until after the
funeral, for it was only due to Cissy's mem-
ory that he should still keep up the role of
Dick Lasham as chief mourner. If it seems
strange that Bob did not at this crucial mo-
ment take Miss Boutelle into his confidence,
I fear it was because he dreaded the per-
sonal effect of the deceit he had practiced
upon her more than any ethical considera-
tion; she had softened considerably in her
attitude towards him that night; he was
human, after all, and while he felt his con-
duct had been unselfish in the main, he
dared not confess to himself how much her
opinion had influenced him. He resolved
that after the funeral he would continue his
journey, and write to her, en route, a full
explanation of his conduct, inclosing Dad-
dy's letter as corroborative evidence. But
on searching his letter-case he found that
he had lost even that evidence, and he must
trust solely at present to her faith in his
improbable story.
It seemed as if his greatest sacrifice was
demanded at the funeral! For it could
not be disguised that the neighbors were
strongly prejudiced against him. Even the
FROM CALIFORNIA 35
preacher improved the occasion to warn the
congregation against the dangers of putting
off duty until too late. And when Robert
Falloner, pale, but self -restrained, left the
church with Miss Boutelle, equally pale and
reserved, on his arm, he could with diffi-
culty restrain his fury at the passing of a
significant smile across the faces of a few
curious bystanders. "It was Amy Bou-
telle, that was the ' penitence ' that fetched
him, you bet! " he overheard, a barely con-
cealed whisper; and the reply, "And it's
a good thing she 's made out of it too, for-
he 's mighty rich! "
At the church door he took her cold hand
into his. "I am leaving to-morrow morn-
ing with Jimmy," he said, with a white
face. "Good-by."
"You are quite right; good -by," she re-
plied as briefly, but with the faintest color.
He wondered if she had heard it too.
Whether she had heard it or not, she
went home with Mrs. Ricketts in some
righteous indignation, which found after
the young lady's habit free expression.
Whatever were Mr. Lasham's faults of
omission it was most un-Christian to allude
to them there, and an insult to the poor
36 JIMMY'S JBIG BROTHER
little dear's memory who had forgiven them.
Were she in his shoes she would shake the
dust of the town off her feet ; and she hoped
he would. She was a little softened on ar-
rivijug to find Jimmy in tears. He had lost
Dick's photograph or Dick had forgotten
to give it back at the hotel, for this was all
he had in his pocket. And he produced a
letter the missing letter of Daddy, which
by mistake Falloner had handed back in-
stead of the photograph. Miss Boutelle
saw the superscription and Californian post-
mark with a vague curiosity.
"Did you look inside, dear? Perhaps it
slipped in."
Jimmy had not. Miss Boutelle did
and I grieve to say, ended by reading the
whole letter.
Bob Falloner had finished packing his
things the next morning, and was waiting
for Mr. Ricketts and Jimmy. But when a
tap came at the door, he opened it to find
Miss Boutelle standing there. "I have sent
Jimmy into the bedroom," she said with a
faint smile, "to look for the photograph
which you gave him in mistake for this. I
think for the present he prefers his brother's
picture to this letter, which I have not ex-
FROM CALIFORNIA 37
plained to him or any one." She stopped,
and raising her eyes to his, said gently: "J
think it would have only been a part of your
goodness to have trusted me, Mr. Falloner."
"Then you will forgive me?" he said
eagerly.
She looked at him frankly, yet with a
faint trace of coquetry that the angels might
have pardoned. "Do you want me to say
to you what Mrs. Ricketts says were the
last words of poor Cissy?"
A year later, when the darkness and rain
were creeping up Sawyer's Ledge, and
Houston and Daddy Folsom were sitting
before their brushwood fire in the old
Lasham cabin, the latter delivered himself
oracularly.
"It's a mighty queer thing, that news
about Bob! It's not that he's married,
for that might happen to any one; but this
yer account in the paper of his wedding
being attended by his ' little brother. ' That
gets me! To think all the while he was
here he was lettin' on to us that he hadn't
kith or kin! Well, sir, that accounts to
me for one thing, the sing'ler way he tum-
bled to that letter of poor Dick Lasham's
little brother and sent him that draft!
38 JIMMTS BIG BROTHER
Don't ye see? It was a feller feelin' !
Knew how it was himself ! I reckon ye
all thought I was kinder soft reading that
letter o' Dick Lasham's little brother to
him, but ye see what it did."
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
I DO not think that any of us who en-
joyed the acquaintance of the Piper girls or
the hospitality of Judge Piper, their father,
ever cared for the youngest sister. Not on
account of her extreme youth, for the eldest
Miss Piper confessed to twenty-six and
the youth of the youngest sister was estab-
lished solely, I think, by one big braid
down her back. Neither was it because
she was the plainest, for the beauty of the
Piper girls was a recognized general distinc-
tion, and the youngest Miss Piper was not
entirely devoid of the family charms. Nor
was it from any lack of intelligence, nor
from any defective social quality; for her
precocity was astounding, and her good-
humored frankness alarming. Neither do I
think it could be said that a slight deafness,
which might impart an embarrassing pub-
licity to any statement the reverse of our
general feeling that might be confided by
any one to her private ear, was a sufficient
40 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
reason; for it was pointed out that she al-
ways understood everything that Tom Spar-
rell told her in his ordinary tone of voice.
Briefly, it was very possible that Delaware
the youngest Miss Piper did not like us.
Yet it was fondly believed by us that the
other sisters failed to show that indifference
to our existence shown by Miss Delaware,
although the heartburnings, misunderstand-
ings, jealousies, hopes and fears, and finally
the chivalrous resignation with which we at
last accepted the long foregone conclusion
that they were not for us, and far beyond
our reach, is not a part of this veracious
chronicle. Enough that none of the flirta-
tions of her elder sisters affected or were
shared by the youngest Miss Piper. She
moved in this heart-breaking atmosphere
with sublime indifference, treating her sis-
ters' affairs with what we considered rank
simplicity or appalling frankness. Their
few admirers who were weak enough to at-
tempt to gain her mediation or confidence
had reason to regret it.
"It 's no kind o' use givin' me goodies,"
she said to a helpless suitor of Louisiana
Piper's who had offered to bring her some
sweets, "for I ain't got no influence with
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 41
Lu, and if I don't give 'em up to her when
she hears of it, she '11 nag me and hate you
like pizen. Unless," she added thought-
fully, "it was wintergreen lozenges; Lu
can't stand them, or anybody who eats them
within a mile." It is needless to add that
the miserable man, thus put upon his gal-
lantry, was obliged in honor to provide Del
with the wintergreen lozenges that kept him
in disfavor and at a distance. Unfortu-
nately, too, any predilection or pity for any
particular suitor of her sister's was attended
by even more disastrous consequences. It
was reported that while acting as "goose-
berry" a role usually assigned to her
between Virginia Piper and an exception-
ally timid young surveyor, during a ramble
she conceived a rare sentiment of humanity
towards the unhappy man. After once or
twice lingering behind in the ostentatious
picking of a wayside flower, or "running
on ahead " to look at a mountain view,
without any apparent effect on the shy and
speechless youth, she decoyed him aside
while her elder sister rambled indifferently
and somewhat scornfully on. The young-
est Miss Piper leaped upon the rail of a
fence, and with the stalk of a thimbleberry
42 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
in her mouth swung her small feet to and
fro and surveyed him dispassionately.
"Ye don't seem to be ketchin' on?" she
said tentatively.
The young man smiled feebly and inter-
rogatively.
"Don't seem to be either follering suit
nor trumpin'," continued Del bluntly.
" I suppose so that is, I fear that Miss
Virginia " he stammered.
" Speak up ! I 'm a little deaf. Say it
again ! " said Del, screwing up her eyes and
eyebrows.
The young man was obliged to admit in
stentorian tones that his progress had been
scarcely satisfactory.
"You're goin' on too slow that 'sit,"
said Del critically. "Why, when Captain
Savage meandered along here with Jinny "
(Virginia) "last week, afore we got as far
as this he 'd reeled off a heap of Byron and
Jamieson " (Tennyson), "and sich; and
only yesterday Jinny and Doctor Beveridge
was blowin' thistletops to know which was
a flirt all along the trail past the cross-
roads. Why, ye ain't picked ez much as
a single berry for Jinny, let alone Lad's
Love or Johnny Jumpups and Kissme's,
TEE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 43
and ye keep talkin' across me, you two, till
I'm tired. Now look here," she burst out
with sudden decision, "Jinny 's gone on
ahead in a kind o' huff; but I reckon she 's
done that afore too, and you '11 find her,
jest as Spinner did, on the rise of the hill,
sittin' on a pine stump and lookin' like
this." (Here the youngest Miss Piper
locked her fingers over her left knee, and
drew it slightly up, with a sublime in-
difference to the exposure of considerable
small-ankled red stocking, and with a
far-off, plaintive stare, achieved a colorable
imitation of her elder sister's probable atti-
tude.) "Then you jest go up softly, like
as you was a bear, and clap your hands on
her eyes, and say in a disguised voice like
this " (here Del turned on a high falsetto
beyond any masculine compass), "' Who's
who? ' jest like in forfeits."
"But she'll be sure to know me," said
the surveyor timidly.
"She won't," said Del in scornful skepti-
cism.
"I hardly think " stammered the young
man, with an awkward smile, "that I in
fact she '11 discover me before I can
get beside her."
44 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
"Not if you go softly, for she '11 be sittin'
back to the road, so gazing away, so"
the youngest Miss Piper again stared dream-
ily in the distance, "and you '11 creep up
just behind, like this."
"But won't she be angry? I haven't
known her long that is don't you see ? "
He stopped embarrassedly.
"Can't hear a word you say," said Del,
shaking her head decisively. "You 've got
my deaf ear. Speak louder, or come
closer."
But here the instruction suddenly ended,
once and for all time! For whether the
young man was seriously anxious to perfect
himself; whether he was truly grateful to
the young girl and tried to show it ; whether
he was emboldened by the childish appeal
of the long brown distinguishing braid
down her back, or whether he suddenly
found something peculiarly provocative in
the reddish brown eyes between their thick-
set hedge of lashes, and with the trim figure
and piquant pose, and was seized with that
hysteric desperation which sometimes at-
tacks timidity itself, I cannot say ! Enough
that he suddenly put his arm around her
waist and his lips to her soft satin cheek,
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 45
peppered and salted as it was by sun-freckles
and mountain air, and received a sound box
on the ear for his pains. The incident was
closed. He did not repeat the experiment
on either sister. The disclosure of his re-
buff seemed, however, to give a singular
satisfaction to Ked Gulch.
While it may be gathered from this that
the youngest Miss Piper was impervious to
general masculine advances, it was not until
later that Red Gulch was thrown into skep-
tical astonishment by the rumors that all
this time she really had a lover ! Allusion
has been made to the charge that her deaf-
ness did not prevent her from perfectly un-
derstanding the ordinary tone of voice of a
certain Mr. Thomas Sparrell.
No undue significance was attached to
this fact through the very insignificance and
"impossibility" of that individual; a
lanky, red-haired youth, incapacitated for
manual labor through lameness, a clerk
in a general store at the Cross Roads ! He
had never been the recipient of Judge
Piper's hospitality; he had never visited
the house even with parcels; apparently his
only interviews with her or any of the family
had been over the counter. To do him jus-
46 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
tice he certainly had never seemed to seek
any nearer acquaintance; LJ was not at the
church door when her sisters, beautiful in
their Sunday gowns, filed into the aisle,
with little Delaware bringing up the rear;
he was not at the Democratic barbecue, that
we attended without reference to our per-
sonal politics, and solely for the sake of
Judge Piper and the girls; nor did he go
to the Agricultural Fair Ball open to all.
His abstention we believed to be owing to
his lameness; to a wholesome consciousness
of his own social defects ; or an inordinate
passion for reading cheap scientific text-
books, which did not, however, add fluency
nor conviction to his speech. Neither had
he the abstraction of a student, for his ac-
counts were kept with an accuracy which
struck us, who dealt at the store, as ignobly
practical, and even malignant. Possibly
we might have expressed this opinion more
strongly but for a certain rude vigor of
repartee which he possessed, and a sugges-
tion that he might have a temper on occa-
sion. "Them red-haired chaps is like to
be tetchy and to kinder see blood through
their eyelashes," had been suggested by an
observing customer.
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 47
In short, little as we knew of the young-
est Miss Piper, he was the last man we
should have suspected her to select as an
admirer. What we did know of their
public relations, purely commercial ones,
implied the reverse of any cordial under-
standing. The provisioning of the Piper
household was entrusted to Del, with other
practical odds and ends of housekeeping,
not ornamental, and the following is said
to be a truthful record of one of their over-
heard interviews at the store :
The youngest Miss Piper, entering, dis-
placing a quantity of goods in the centre to
make a sideways seat for herself, and look-
ing around loftily as she took a memoran-
dum-book and pencil from her pocket.
"Ahem! If I ain't taking you away
from your studies, Mr. Sparrell, maybe
you '11 be good enough to look here a minit ;
but" (in affected politeness) "if I 'm dis-
turbing you I can come another time."
Sparrell, placing the book he had been
reading carefully under the counter, and
advancing to Miss Delaware with a com-
plete ignoring of her irony : " What can we
do for you to-day, Miss Piper? "
Miss Delaware, with great suavity of
48 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
manner, examining her memorandum-book :
"I suppose it wouldn't be shocking your
delicate feelings too much to inform you
that the canned lobster and oysters you sent
us yesterday wasn't fit for hogs?"
Sparrell (blandly): "They weren't in-
tended for them, Miss Piper. If we had
known you were having company over from
Red Gulch to dinner, we might have pro-
vided something more suitable for them.
We have a fair quality of oil-cake and corn-
cobs in stock, at reduced figures. But the
canned provisions were for your own fam-
fly."
Miss Delaware (secretly pleased at this
sarcastic allusion to her sister's friends,
but concealing her delight): "I admire to
hear you talk that way, Mr. Sparrell; it's
better than minstrels or a circus. I sup-
pose you get it outer that book," indicat-
ing the concealed volume. "What do you
call it? "
Sparrell (politely): "The First Princi-
ples of Geology."
Miss Delaware, leaning sideways and
curling her little fingers around her pink
ear: "Did you say the first principles of
4 geology ' or ' politeness ' ? You know I
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPES 49
am so deaf; but, of course, it couldn't be
that."
Sparrell (easily): "Oh no, you seem to
have that in your hand " pointing to Miss
Delaware's memorandum-book "you were
quoting from it when you came in."
Miss Delaware, after an affected silence
of deep resignation : " Well ! it 's too bad
folks can't just spend their lives listenin' to
such elegant talk ; I 'd admire to do nothing
else! But there 's my family up at Cotton-
wood and they must eat. They 're that
low that they expect me to waste my time
getting food for 'em here, instead of drink-
ing in the First Principles of the Grocery."
"Geology," suggested Sparrell blandly.
"The history of rock formation."
"Geology," accepted Miss Delaware
apologetically ; "the history of rocks, which
is so necessary for knowing just how much
sand you can put in the sugar. So I reckon
I '11 leave my list here, and you can have
the things toted to Cottonwood when you 've
got through with your First Principles."
She tore out a list of her commissions
from a page of her memorandum -book,
leaped lightly from the counter, threw her
brown braid from her left shoulder to its
50 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
proper place down her back, shook out her
skirts deliberately, and saying, "Thank you
for a most improvin' afternoon, Mr. Spar-
rell," sailed demurely out of the store.
A few auditors of this narrative thought
it inconsistent that a daughter of Judge
Piper and a sister of the angelic host should
put up with a mere clerk's familiarity, but
it was pointed out that "she gave him as
good as he sent," and the story was gen-
erally credited. But certainly no one ever
dreamed that it pointed to any more pre-
cious confidences between them.
I think the secret burst upon the family,
with other things, at the big picnic at
Keservoir Canon. This festivity had been
arranged for weeks previously, and was un-
dertaken chiefly by the "Red Gulch Con-
tingent," as we were called, as a slight re-
turn to the Piper family for their frequent
hospitality. The Piper sisters were ex-
pected to bring nothing but their own per-
sonal graces and attend to the ministration
of such viands and delicacies as the boys
had profusely supplied.
The site selected was Reservoir Canon, a
beautiful, triangular valley with very steep
sides, one of which was crowned by the
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 51
immense reservoir of the Pioneer Ditch
Company. The sheer flanks of the canon
descended in furrowed lines of vines and
clinging bushes, like folds of falling skirts,
until they broke again into flounces of
spangled shrubbery over a broad level car-
pet of monkshood, mariposas, lupines, pop-
pies, and daisies. Tempered and secluded
from the sun's rays by its lofty shadows,
the delicious obscurity of the canon was in
sharp contrast to the fiery mountain trail
that in the full glare of the noonday sky
made its tortuous way down the hillside,
like a stream of lava, to plunge suddenly into
the valley and extinguish itself in its cool-
ness as in a lake. The heavy odors of wild
honeysuckle, syringa, and ceanothus that
hung over it were lightened and freshened
by the sharp spicing of pine and bay. The
mountain breeze which sometimes shook the
serrated tops of the large redwoods above
with a chill from the remote snow peaks
even in the heart of summer, never reached
the little valley.
It seemed an ideal place for a picnic.
Everybody was therefore astonished to hear
that an objection was suddenly raised to
this perfect site. They were still more as-
52 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
tonished to know that the objector was the
youngest Miss Piper ! Pressed to give her
reasons, she had replied that the locality
was dangerous; that the reservoir placed
upon the mountain, notoriously old and
worn out, had been rendered more unsafe
by false economy in unskillful and hasty
repairs to satisfy speculating stockbrokers,
and that it had lately shown signs of leak-
age and sapping of its outer walls ; that, in
the event of an outbreak, the little triangu-
lar valley, from which there was no outlet,
would be instantly flooded. Asked still
more pressingly to give her authority for
these details, she at first hesitated, and then
gave the name of Tom Sparrell.
The derision with which this statement
was received by us all, as the opinion of
a sedentary clerk, was quite natural and
obvious, but not the anger which it excited
in the breast of Judge Piper; for it was
not generally known that the judge was the
holder of a considerable number of shares
in the Pioneer Ditch Company, and that
large dividends had been lately kept up by
a false economy of expenditure, to expedite
a "sharp deal" in the stock, by which the
judge and others could sell out of a failing
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 53
company. Rather, it was believed, that
the judge's anger was due only to the dis-
covery of Sparrell's influence over his daugh-
ter and his interference with the social af-
fairs of Cottonwood. It was said that there
was a sharp scene between the youngest
Miss Piper and the combined forces of the
judge and the elder sisters, which ended in
the former's resolute refusal to attend the
picnic at all if that site was selected.
As Delaware was known to be fearless
even to the point of recklessness, and fond
of gayety, her refusal only intensified the
belief that she was merely "stickin' up for
Sparrell's judgment " without any reference
to her own personal safety or that of her
sisters. The warning was laughed away;
the opinion of Sparrell treated with ridicule
as the dyspeptic and envious expression of
an impractical man. It was pointed out that
the reservoir had lasted a long time even in
its alleged ruinous state; that only a mira-
cle of coincidence could make it break down
that particular afternoon of the picnic ; that
even if it did happen, there was no direct
proof that it would seriously flood the val-
ley, or at best add more than a spice of ex-
citement to the affair. The "Red Gulch
54 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
Contingent," who would be there, was quite
as capable of taking care of the ladies, in
case of any accident, as any lame crank who
wouldn't, but could only croak a warning
to them from a distance. A few even wished
something might happen that they might
have an opportunity of showing their supe-
rior devotion ; indeed, the prospect of carry-
ing the half -submerged sisters, in a condi-
tion of helpless loveliness, in their arms to
a place of safety was a fascinating possibil-
ity. The warning was conspicuously inef-
fective; everybody looked eagerly forward
to the day and the unchanged locality; to
the greatest hopefulness and anticipation
was added the stirring of defiance, and
when at last the appointed hour had arrived,
the picnic party passed down the twisting
mountain trail through the heat and glare
in a fever of enthusiasm.
It was a pretty sight to view this spar-
kling procession the girls cool and radiant
in their white, blue, and yellow muslins
and flying ribbons, the "Contingent" in its
cleanest ducks, and blue and red flannel
shirts, the judge white-waistcoated and pan-
ama-hatted, with a new dignity borrowed
from the previous circumstances, and three
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 55
or four impressive Chinamen bringing up
the rear with hampers as it at last de-
bouched into Reservoir Canon.
Here they dispersed themselves over the
limited area, scarcely half an acre, with the
freedom of escaped school children. They
were secure in their woodland privacy.
They were overlooked by no high road and
its passing teams; they were safe from acci-
dental intrusion from the settlement; in-
deed they went so far as to effect the exclu-
siveness of "clique." At first they amused
themselves by casting humorously defiant
eyes at the long low Ditch Reservoir, which
peeped over the green wall of the ridge, six
hundred feet above them; at times they
even simulated an exaggerated terror of it,
and one recognized humorist declaimed a
grotesque appeal to its forbearance, with
delightful local allusions. Others pre-
tended to discover near a woodman's hut,
among the belt of pines at the top of the
descending trail, the peeping figure of the
ridiculous and envious Sparrell. But all
this was presently forgotten in the actual
festivity. Small as was the range of the
valley, it still allowed retreats during the
dances for waiting couples among the con-
56 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
venient laurel and manzanita bushes which
flounced the mountain side. After the
dancing, old-fashioned children's games
were revived with great laughter and half-
hearted and coy protests from the ladies;
notably one pastime known as "I 'm a-pin-
in'," in which ingenious performance the
victim was obliged to stand in the centre of
a circle and publicly "pine" for a member
of the opposite sex. Some hilarity was oc-
casioned by the mischievous Miss "Georgy "
Piper declaring, when it came to her turn,
that she was "pinin' " for a look at the face
of Tom Sparrell just now !
In this local trifling two hours passed,
until the party sat down to the long-looked-
for repast. It was here that the health of
Judge Piper was neatly proposed by the edi-
tor of the "Argus." The judge responded
with great dignity and some emotion. He
reminded them that it had been his humble
endeavor to promote harmony that har-
mony so characteristic of American princi-
ples in social as he had in political cir-
cles, and particularly among the strangely
constituted yet purely American elements
of frontier life. He accepted the present
festivity with its overflowing hospitalities,
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 57
not in recognition of himself ("yes!
yes!") nor of his family (enthusiastic
protests) but of that American principle !
If at one time it seemed probable that these
festivities might be marred by the machina-
tions of envy (groans) or that harmony
interrupted by the importation of low-toned
material interests (groans) he could say
that, looking around him, he had never be-
fore felt er that Here the judge
stopped short, reeled slightly forward,
caught at a camp-stool, recovered himself
with an apologetic smile, and turned inquir-
ingly to his neighbor.
A light laugh instantly suppressed
at what was at first supposed to be the ef-
fect of the "overflowing hospitality" upon
the speaker himself, went around the male
circle until it suddenly appeared that half
a dozen others had started to their feet at
the same time, with white faces, and that
one of the ladies had screamed.
"What is it?" everybody was asking
with interrogatory smiles.
It was Judge Piper who replied :
"A little shock of earthquake," he said
blandly; "a mere thrill! I think," he added
with a faint smile, "we may say that Nature
58 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
herself has applauded our efforts in good
old Calif ornian fashion, and signified her
assent. What are you saying, Fludder? "
"I was thinking, sir," said Fludder de-
ferentially, in a lower voice, "that if any-
thing was wrong in the reservoir, this shock,
you know, might "
He was interrupted by a faint crashing
and crackling sound, and looking up, be-
held a good-sized boulder, evidently de-
tached from some greater height, strike the
upland plateau at the left of the trail and
bound into the fringe of forest beside it.
A slight cloud of dust marked its course,
and then lazily floated away in mid air.
But it had been watched agitatedly, and it
was evident that that singular loss of ner-
vous balance which is apt to affect all those
who go through the slightest earthquake
experience was felt by all. But some sense
of humor, however, remained.
"Looks as if the water risks we took
ain't goin' to cover earthquakes," drawled
Dick Frisney; "still that wasn't a bad
shot, if we only knew what they were aim-
ing at."
"Do be quiet," said Virginia Piper, her
cheeks pink with excitement. "Listen,
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 59
can't you? What 's that funny murmuring
you hear now and then up there?"
"It's only the snow-wind playin' with
the pines on the summit. You girls won't
allow anybody any fun but yourselves."
But here a scream from "Georgy," who,
assisted by Captain Fairfax, had mounted
a camp-stool at the mouth of the valley,
attracted everybody's attention. She was
standing upright, with dilated eyes, staring
at the top of the trail. "Look! " she said
excitedly, "if the trail isn't moving! "
Everybody faced in that direction. At
the first glance it seemed indeed as if the
trail was actually moving; wriggling and
undulating its tortuous way down the moun-
tain like a huge snake, only swollen to twice
its usual size. But the second glance showed
it to be no longer a trail but a channel of
water, whose stream, lifted in a bore-like
wall four or five feet high, was plunging
down into the devoted valley.
For an instant they were unable to com-
prehend even the nature of the catastrophe.
The reservoir was directly over their heads ;
the bursting of its wall they had imagined
would naturally bring down the water in
a dozen trickling streams or falls over the
60 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
cliff above them and along the flanks of
the mountain. But that its suddenly liber-
ated volume should overflow the upland be-
yond and then descend in a pent-up flood
by their own trail and their only avenue
of escape, had been beyond their wildest
fancy.
They met this smiting truth with that
characteristic short laugh with which the
American usually receives the blow of Fate
or the unexpected as if he recognized
only the absurdity of the situation. Then
they ran to the women, collected them to-
gether, and dragged them to vantages of
fancied security among the bushes which
flounced the long skirts of the mountain
walls. But I leave this part of the descrip-
tion to the characteristic language of one
of the party :
"When the flood struck us, it did not
seem to take any stock of us in particular,
but laid itself out to ' go for ' that picnic
for all it was worth! It wiped it off the
face of the earth in about twenty-five sec-
onds! It first made a clean break from
stem to stern, carrying everything along
with it. The first thing I saw was old
Judge Piper, puttin' on his best licks to
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 61
get away from a big can of strawberry ice
cream that was trundling after him and try-
ing to empty itself on his collar, whenever
a bigger wave lifted it. He was followed
by what was left of the brass band ; the big
drum just humpin' itself to keep abreast o'
the ice cream, mixed up with camp-stools,
music-stands, a few Chinamen, and then
what they call in them big San Francisco
processions ' citizens generally.' The hull
thing swept up the canon inside o' thirty
seconds. Then, what Captain Fairfax
called ' the reflex action in the laws o' mo-
tion' happened, and darned if the hull
blamed procession didn't sweep back again
this time all the heavy artillery, such
as camp-kettles, lager beer kegs, bottles,
glasses, and crockery that was left behind
takin' the lead now, and Judge Piper and
that ice cream can bringin' up the rear.
As the jedge passed us the second time, we
noticed that that ice cream can hevin'
swallowed water was kinder losing its
wind, and we encouraged the old man by
shoutin' out, ' Five to one on him! ' And
then, you wouldn't believe what followed.
Why, darn my skin, when that ' reflex ' met
the current at the other end, it just swirled
62 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
around again in what Captain Fairfax
called the 'centrifugal curve,' and just
went round and round the canon like ez
when yer washin' the dirt out o' a prospect-
in' pan every now and then washin' some
one of the boys that was in it, like scum,
up ag'in the banks.
"We managed in this way to snake out
the judge, jest ez he was sailin' round on
the home stretch, passin' the quarter post
two lengths ahead o' the can. A good deal
o' the ice cream had washed away, but it
took us ten minutes to shake the cracked
ice and powdered salt out o' the old man's
clothes, and warm him up again in the
laurel bush where he was clinging. This
sort o' ' Here we go round the mulberry
bush ' kep' on until most o' the humans
was got out, and only the furniture o' the
picnic was left in the race. Then it got
kinder mixed up, and went sloshin' round
here and there, ez the water kep' comin'
down by the trail. Then Lulu Piper, what
I was holdin' up all the time in a laurel
bush, gets an idea, for all she was wet and
draggled; and ez the things went bobbin'
round, she calls out the figures o' a cotillon
to 'em. ' Two camp-stools forward.' ' Sa-
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 63
shay and back to your places.' 'Change
partners.' ' Hands all round.'
"She was clear grit, you bet! And the
joke caught on and the other girls jined
in, and it kinder cheered 'em, for they was
wan tin' it. Then Fludder allowed to pa-
cify 'em by sayin' he just figured up the
size o' the reservoir and the size o' the
canon, and he kalkilated that the cube was
about ekal, and the canon couldn't flood
any more. And then Lulu who was peart
as a jay and could n't be fooled speaks
up and says, ' What 's the matter with the
ditch, Dick?'
" Lord ! then we knew that she knew the
worst; for of course all the water in the
ditch itself fifty miles of it ! was drain-
in' now into that reservoir and was bound
to come down to the canon."
It was at this point that the situation
became really desperate, for they had now
crawled up the steep sides as far as the
bushes afforded foothold, and the water was
still rising. The chatter of the girls ceased,
there were long silences, in which the men
discussed the wildest plans, and proposed to
tear their shirts into strips to make ropes to
support the girls by sticks driven into the
64 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
mountain side. It was in one of those in-
tervals that the distinct strokes of a wood-
man's axe were heard high on the upland
at the point where the trail descended to
the canon. Every ear was alert, but only
those on one side of the canon could get a
fair view of the spot. This was the good
fortune of Captain Fairfax and Georgy
Piper, who had climbed to the highest bush
on that side, and were now standing up,
gazing excitedly in that direction.
"Some one is cutting down a tree at the
head of the trail," shouted Fairfax. The
response and joyful explanation, "for a dam
across the trail," was on everybody's lips
at the same time.
But the strokes of the axe were slow and
painfully intermittent. Impatience burst
out.
"Yell to him to hurry up! Why have
n't they brought two men? "
"It's only one man," shouted the cap-
tain, "and he seems to be a cripple. By
Jiminy ! it is yes ! it 's Tom Spar-
rell!"
There was a dead silence. Then, I grieve
to say, shame and its twin brother rage took
possession of their weak humanity. Oh,
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 65
yes! It was all of a piece! Why in the
name of Folly hadn't he sent for an able-
bodied man. Were they to be drowned
through his cranky obstinacy?
The blows still went on slowly. Pre-
sently, however, they seemed to alternate
with other blows - but alas ! they were
slower, and if possible feebler !
"Have they got another cripple to work? "
roared the Contingent in one furious voice.
"No it's a woman a little one
yes! a girl. Hello! Why, sure as you
live, it 's Delaware ! "
A spontaneous cheer burst from the Con-
tingent, partly as a rebuke to Sparrell, I
think, partly from some shame over their
previous rage. He could take it as he
liked.
Still the blows went on distressingly slow.
The girls were hoisted on the men's shoul-
ders ; the men were half submerged. Then
there was a painful pause; then a crum-
bling crash. Another cheer went up from
the canon.
"It's down! straight across the trail,"
shouted Fairfax, "and a part of the bank
on the top of it."
There was another moment of suspense.
66 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
Would it hold or be carried away by the
momentum of the flood? It held! In a
few moments Fairfax again gave voice to
the cheering news that the flow had stopped
and the submerged trail was reappearing.
In twenty minutes it was clear a muddy
river bed, but possible of ascent ! Of course
there was no diminution of the water in the
canon, which had no outlet, yet it now was
possible for the party to swing from bush
to bush along the mountain side until the
foot of the trail no longer an opposing
one was reached. There were some mis-
steps and mishaps, flounderings in the
water, and some dangerous rescues, but
in half an hour the whole concourse stood
upon the trail and commenced the ascent.
It was a slow, difficult, and lugubrious pro-
cession I fear not the best-tempered one,
now that the stimulus of danger and chiv-
alry was past. When they reached the
dam made by the fallen tree, although they
were obliged to make a long detour to avoid
its steep sides, they could see how success-
fully it had diverted the current to a decliv-
ity on the other side.
But strangely enough they were greeted
by nothing else ! Sparrell and the youngest
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 67
Miss Piper were gone; and when they at
last reached the highroad, they were as-
tounded to hear from a passing teamster
that no one in the settlement knew any-
thing of the disaster!
This was the last drop in their cup of
bitterness! They who had expected that
the settlement was waiting breathlessly for
their rescue, who anticipated that they
would be welcomed as heroes, were obliged
to meet the ill-concealed amusement of pas-
sengers and friends at their dishevelled and
bedraggled appearance, which suggested
only the blundering mishaps of an ordinary
summer outing! "Boatin' in the reservoir,
and fell in?" "Playing at canal-boat in
the Ditch?" were some of the cheerful hy-
potheses. The fleeting sense of gratitude
they had felt for their deliverers was dissi-
pated by the time they had reached their
homes, and their rancor increased by the
information that when the earthquake oc-
curred Mr. Tom Sparrell and Miss Dela-
ware were enjoying a "pasear" in the for-
est he having a half-holiday by virtue of
the festival and that the earthquake had
revived his fears of a catastrophe. The
two had procured axes in the woodman's
68 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
hut and did what they thought was neces-
sary to relieve the situation of the picnick-
ers. But the very modesty of this account
of their own performance had the effect of
belittling the catastrophe itself, and the
picnickers' report of their exceeding peril
was received with incredulous laughter.
For the first time in the history of Red
Gulch there was a serious division between
the Piper family, supported by the Contin-
gent, and the rest of the settlement. Tom
Sparrell's warning was remembered by the
latter, and the ingratitude of the picnickers
to their rescuers commented upon; the ac-
tual calamity to the reservoir was more or
less attributed to the imprudent and reck-
less contiguity of the revelers on that day,
and there were not wanting those who re-
ferred the accident itself to the machina-
tions of the scheming Ditch Director Piper !
It was said that there was a stormy scene
in the Piper household that evening. The
judge had demanded that Delaware should
break off her acquaintance with Sparrell,
and she had refused; the judge had de-
manded of Sparrell's employer that he
should discharge him, and had been met
with the astounding information that Spar-
THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER 69
rell was already a silent partner in the con-
cern. At this revelation Judge Piper was
alarmed; while he might object to a clerk
who could not support a wife, as a consist-
ent democrat he could not oppose a fairly
prosperous tradesman. A final appeal was
made to Delaware; she was implored to
consider the situation of her sisters, who
had all made more ambitious marriages or
were about to make them. Why should
she now degrade the family by marrying
a country storekeeper?
It is said that here the youngest Miss
Piper made a memorable reply, and a reve-
lation the truth of which was never gain-
said :
" You all wanter know why I 'm going to
marry Tom Sparrell? " she queried, stand-
ing up and facing the whole family circle.
"Yes."
"Why I prefer him to the hull caboodle
that you girls have married or are going to
marry?" she continued, meditatively biting
the end of her braid.
"Yes."
"Well, he's the only man of the whole
lot that hasn't proposed to me first."
It is presumed that Sparrell made good
70 THE YOUNGEST MISS PIPER
the omission, or that the family were glad
to get rid of her, for they were married that
autumn. And really a later comparison of
the family records shows that while Captain
Fairfax remained "Captain Fairfax," and
the other sons-in-law did not advance pro-
portionately in standing or riches, the lame
storekeeper of Red Gulch became the Hon.
Senator Tom Sparrell.
A WIDOW OF THE SANTA ANA
VALLEY
THE Widow Wade was standing at her
bedroom window staring out, in that vague
instinct which compels humanity in mo-
ments of doubt and perplexity to seek this
change of observation or superior illumina-
tion. Not that Mrs. Wade's disturbance
was of a serious character. She had passed
the acute stage of widowhood by at least
two years, and the slight redness of her soft
eyelids as well as the droop of her pretty
mouth were merely the recognized outward
and visible signs of the grievously minded
religious community in which she lived.
The mourning she still wore was also partly
in conformity with the sad -colored garments
of her neighbors, and the necessities of the
rainy season. She was in comfortable cir-
cumstances, the mistress of a large ranch
in the valley, which had lately become more
valuable by the extension of a wagon road
through its centre. She was simply worry-
ing whether she should go to a " sociable "
72 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
ending with "a dance" a daring innova-
tion of some strangers at the new hotel,
or continue to eschew such follies, that
were, according to local belief, unsuited to
"a vale of tears."
Indeed at this moment the prospect she
gazed abstractedly upon seemed to justify
that lugubrious description. The Santa
Ana Valley a long monotonous level
was dimly visible through moving curtains
of rain or veils of mist, to the black mourn-
ing edge of the horizon, and had looked
like that for months. The valley in some
remote epoch an arm of the San Francisco
Bay every rainy season seemed to be try-
ing to revert to its original condition, and,
long after the early spring had laid on its
liberal color in strips, bands, and patches
of blue and yellow, the blossoms of mustard
and lupine glistened like wet paint. Never-
theless on that rich alluvial soil Nature's
tears seemed only to fatten the widow's
acres and increase her crops. Her neigh-
bors, too, were equally prosperous. Yet
for six months of the year the recognized
expression of Santa Ana was one of sadness,
and for the other six months of resigna-
tion. Mrs. Wade had yielded early to this
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 73
influence, as she had to others, in the weak-
ness of her gentle nature, and partly as it
was more becoming the singular tragedy that
had made her a widow.
The late Mr. Wade had been found dead
with a bullet through his head in a secluded
part of the road over Heavy Tree Hill in
Sonora County. Near him lay two other
bodies, one afterwards identified as John
Stubbs, a resident of the Hill, and probably
a traveling companion of Wade's, and the
other a noted desperado and highwayman,
still masked, as at the moment of the at-
tack. Wade and his companion had prob-
ably sold their lives dearly, and against
odds, for another mask was found on the
ground, indicating that the attack was not
single-handed, and as Wade's body had not
yet been rifled, it was evident that the re-
maining highwayman had fled in haste.
The hue and cry had been given by appar-
ently the only one of the travelers who es-
caped, but as he was hastening to take the
overland coach to the East at the time, his
testimony could not be submitted to the
coroner's deliberation. The facts, however,
were sufficiently plain for a verdict of will-
ful murder against the highwayman, al-
74 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
though it was believed that the absent wit-
ness had basely deserted his companion and
left him to his fate, or, as was suggested by
others, that he might even have been an
accomplice. It was this circumstance which
protracted comment on the incident, and
the sufferings of the widow, far beyond that
rapid obliteration which usually overtook
such affairs in the feverish haste of the
early days. It caused her to remove to
Santa Ana, where her old father had feebly
ranched a "quarter section" in the valley.
He survived her husband only a few months,
leaving her the property, and once more
in mourning. Perhaps this continuity of
woe endeared her to a neighborhood where
distinctive ravages of diphtheria or scarlet
fever gave a kind of social preeminence to
any household, and she was so sympatheti-
cally assisted by her neighbors in the man-
agement of the ranch that, from an un-
kempt and wasteful wilderness, it became
paying property. The slim, willowy figure,
soft red-lidded eyes, and deep crape of
"Sister Wade" at church or prayer-meet-
ing was grateful to the soul of these gloomy
worshipers, and in time she herself found
that the arm of these dyspeptics of mind
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 75
and body was nevertheless strong and sus-
taining. Small wonder that she should hes-
itate to-night about plunging into inconsist-
ent, even though trifling, frivolities.
But apart from this superficial reason,
there was another instinctive one deep down
in the recesses of Mrs. Wade's timid heart
which she had kept to herself, and indeed
would have tearfully resented had it been
offered by another. The late Mr. Wade
had been, in fact, a singular example of
this kind of frivolous existence carried to a
man-like excess. Besides being a patron
of amusements, Mr. Wade gambled, raced,
and drank. He was often home late, and
sometimes not at all. Not that this conduct
was exceptional in the "roaring days" of
Heavy Tree Hill, but it had given Mrs.
Wade perhaps an undue preference for a
less certain, even if a more serious life.
His tragic death was, of course, a kind of
martyrdom, which exalted him in the femi-
nine mind to a saintly memory; yet Mrs.
Wade was not without a certain relief in
that. It was voiced, perhaps crudely, by
the widow of Abuer Drake in a visit of
condolence to the tearful Mrs. Wade a few
days after Wade's death. "It's a vale o'
76 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
sorrow, Mrs. Wade," said the sympathizer,
"but it has its ups and downs, and I recken
ye '11 be feelin' soon pretty much as I did
about Abner when he was took. It was
mighty soothin' and comfortin' to feel that
whatever might happen now, I always knew
just whar Abner was passin' his nights."
Poor slim Mrs. Wade had no disquieting
sense of humor to interfere with her recep-
tion of this large truth, and she accepted it
with a burst of reminiscent tears.
A long volleying shower had just passed
down the level landscape, and was followed
by a rolling mist from the warm saturated
soil like the smoke of the discharge.
Through it she could see a faint lightening
of the hidden sun, again darkening through
a sudden onset of rain, and changing as
with her conflicting doubts and resolutions.
Thus gazing, she was vaguely conscious of
an addition to the landscape in the shape
of a man who was passing down the road
with a pack on his back like the tramping
"prospectors" she had often seen at Heavy
Tree Hill. That memory apparently settled
her vacillating mind; she determined she
would not go to the dance. But as she was
turning away from the window a second
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 77
figure, a horseman, appeared in another
direction by a cross-road, a shorter cut
through her domain. This she had no dif-
ficulty in recognizing as one of the strangers
who were getting up the dance. She had
noticed him at church on the previous Sun-
day. As he passed the house he appeared
to be gazing at it so earnestly that she drew
back from the window lest she should be
seen. And then, for no reason whatever,
she changed her mind once more, and re-
solved to go to the dance. Gravely announ-
cing this fact to the wife of her superintend-
ent who kept house with her in her lone-
liness, she thought nothing more about
it. She should go in her mourning, with
perhaps the addition of a white collar and
frill.
It was evident, however, that Santa Ana
thought a good deal more than she did of
this new idea, which seemed a part of the
innovation already begun by the building
up of the new hotel. It was argued by
some that as the new church and new school -
house had been opened by prayer, it was
only natural that a lighter festivity should
inaugurate the opening of the hotel. "I
reckon that dancin' is about the next thins:
78 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
to travelin' for gettin' up an appetite for
refreshments, and that 's what the landlord
is kalkilatin' to sarve," was the remark of a
gloomy but practical citizen on the veranda
of "The Valley Emporium." "That 's
so," rejoined a bystander; "and I notice
on that last box o' pills I got for chills the
directions say that a little ' agreeable exer-
cise ' not too violent is a great assist-
ance to the working o' the pills."
"I reckon that that Mr. Brooks who's
down here lookin' arter mill property, got
up the dance. He 's bin round town can-
vassin' all the women folks and drummin'
up likely gals for it. They say he actooally
sent an invite to the Widder Wade," re-
marked another lounger. "Gosh! he's got
cheek!"
"Well, gentlemen," said the proprietor
judicially, "while we don't intend to hev
any minin' camp fandangos or 'Frisco
falals round Santa Any (Santa Ana was
proud of its simple agricultural virtues)
I ain't so hard-shelled as not to give new
things a fair trial. And, after all, it 's the
women folk that has the say about it.
Why, there 's old Miss Ford sez she hasn't
kicked a fut sence she left Mizoori, but
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 79
would n't mind trying it agin. Ez to
Brooks takin' that trouble well, I sup-
pose it 's along o' his bein' healthy ! " He
heaved a deep dyspeptic sigh, which was
faintly echoed by the others. "Why, look
at him now, ridin' round on that black hoss
o' his, in the wet since daylight and not
carin' for blind chills or rhumatiz! "
He was looking at a serape-draped horse-
man, the one the widow had seen on the
previous night, who was now cantering
slowly up the street. Seeing the group on
the veranda, he rode up, threw himself
lightly from his saddle, and joined them.
He was an alert, determined, good-looking
fellow of about thirty-five, whose smooth,
smiling face hardly commended itself to
Santa Ana, though his eyes were distinctly
sympathetic. He glanced at the depressed
group around him and became ominously
serious.
"When did it happen?" he asked
gravely.
"What happen?" said the nearest by-
stander.
"The Funeral, Flood, Fight, or Fire.
Which of the four F's was it ? "
"What are ye talkin' about?" said the
80 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
proprietor stiffly, scenting some dangerous
humor.
" You," said Brooks promptly. "You 're
all standing here, croaking like crows, this
fine morning. I passed your farm, John-
son, not an hour ago ; the wheat just climb-
ing out of the black adobe mud as thick as
rows of pins on paper what have you to
grumble at? I saw your stock, Briggs,
over on Two-Mile Bottom, waddling along,
fat as the adobe they were sticking in, their
coats shining like fresh paint what's the
matter with you? And," turning to the
proprietor, "there 's your shed, Saunders,
over on the creek, just bursting with last
year's grain that you know has gone up two
hundred per cent, since you bought it at a
bargain what are you growling at? It 's
enough to provoke a fire or a famine to
hear you groaning and take care it don't,
some day, as a lesson to you."
All this was so perfectly true of the pros-
perous burghers that they could not for a
moment reply. But Briggs had recourse to
what he believed to be a retaliatory taunt.
"I heard you 've been askin' Widow
Wade to come to your dance," he said, with
a wink at the others. " Of course she said
'Yes.'"
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 81
"Of course she did," returned Brooks
coolly. "I 've just got her note."
"What?" ejaculated the three men to-
gether. "Mrs. Wade comin'?"
" Certainly ! Why should n 't she ? And
it would do you good to come too, and shake
the limp dampness out o' you," returned
Brooks, as he quietly remounted his horse
and cantered away.
"Darned ef I don't think he's got his
eye on the widder," said Johnson faintly.
"Or the quarter section," added Briggs
gloomily.
For all that, the eventful evening came,
with many lights in the staring, undraped
windows of the hotel, coldly bright bunting
on the still damp walls of the long dining-
room, and a gentle downpour from the hid-
den skies above. A close carryall was espe-
cially selected to bring Mrs. Wade and her
housekeeper. The widow arrived, looking
a little slimmer than usual in her closely
buttoned black dress, white collar and cuffs,
very glistening in eye and in hair, whose
glossy black ringlets were perhaps more
elaborately arranged than was her custom,
and with a faint coming and going of
color, due perhaps to her agitation at this
82 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
tentative reentering into worldly life, which
was nevertheless quite virginal in effect.
A vague solemnity pervaded the introduc-
tory proceedings, and a singular want of
sociability was visible in the "sociable"
part of the entertainment. People talked
in whispers or with that grave precision
which indicates good manners in rural com-
munities; conversed painfully with other
people whom they did not want to talk to
rather than appear to be alone, or rushed
aimlessly together like water drops, and
then floated in broken, adherent masses over
the floor. The widow became a helpless,
religious centre of deacons and Sunday-
school teachers, which Brooks, untiring, yet
fruitless, in his attempt to produce gayety,
tried in vain to break. To this gloom the
untried dangers of the impending dance,
duly prefigured by a lonely cottage piano
and two violins in a desert of expanse, added
a nervous chill. When at last the music
struck up somewhat hesitatingly and pro-
testingly, from the circumstance that the
player was the church organist, and fumbled
mechanically for his stops, the attempt to
make up a cotillon set was left to the heroic
Brooks. Yet he barely escaped disaster
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 83
when, in posing the couples, he incautiously
begged them to look a little less as if they
were waiting for the coffin to be borne down
the aisle between them, and was rewarded
by a burst of tears from Mrs. Johnson, who
had lost a child two years before, and who
had to be led away, while her place in the
set was taken by another. Yet the cotillon
passed off; a Spanish dance succeeded;
"Money musk," with the Virginia Reel, put
a slight intoxicating vibration into the air,
and healthy youth at last asserted itself in
a score of freckled but buxom girls in white
muslin, with romping figures and laughter,
at the lower end of the room. Still a rigid
decorum reigned among the elder dancers,
and the figures were called out in grave
formality, as if, to Brooks' s fancy, they were
hymns given from the pulpit, until at the
close of the set, in half -real, half -mock de-
spair, he turned desperately to Mrs. Wade,
his partner :
"Do you waltz?"
Mrs. Wade hesitated. She had, before
marriage, and was a good waltzer. "I do,"
she said timidly, "but do you think they "
But before the poor widow could formu-
late her fears as to the reception of "round
84 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
dances," Brooks had darted to the piano,
and the next moment she heard with a
"fearful joy" the opening bars of a waltz.
It was an old Julien waltz, fresh still in the
fifties, daring, provocative to foot, swamp-
ing to intellect, arresting to judgment, irre-
sistible, supreme ! Before Mrs. Wade could
protest, Brooks 's arm had gathered up her
slim figure, and with one quick backward
sweep and swirl they were off! The floor
was cleared for them in a sudden bewilder-
ment of alarm a suspense of burning
curiosity. The widow's little feet tripped
quickly, her long black skirt swung out;
as she turned the corner there was not only
a sudden revelation of her pretty ankles,
but, what was more startling, a dazzling
flash of frilled and laced petticoat, which at
once convinced every woman in the room
that the act had been premeditated for
days! Yet even that criticism was pre-
sently forgotten in the pervading intoxica-
tion of the music and the movement. The
younger people fell into it with wild romp-
ings, whirlings, and clasping of hands and
waists. And stranger than all, a coryban-
tic enthusiasm seized upon the emotionally
religious, and those priests and priestesses
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 85
of Cybele who were famous for their frenzy
and passion in camp-meeting devotions
seemed to find an equal expression that
night in the waltz. And when, flushed and
panting, Mrs. Wade at last halted on the
arm of her partner, they were nearly
knocked over by the revolving Johnson and
Mrs. Stubbs in a whirl of gloomy exulta-
tion ! Deacons and Sunday-school teachers
waltzed together until the long room shook,
and the very bunting on the walls waved
and fluttered with the gyrations of those
religious dervishes. Nobody knew no-
body cared how long this frenzy lasted it
ceased only with the collapse of the musi-
cians. Then, with much vague bewilder-
ment, inward trepidation, awkward and in-
coherent partings, everybody went dazedly
home ; there was no other dancing after that
the waltz was the one event of the festi-
val and of the history of Santa Ana. And
later that night, when the timid Mrs. Wade,
in the seclusion of her own room and the
disrobing of her slim figure, glanced at her
spotless frilled and laced petticoat lying on
a chair, a faint smile the first of her wid-
owhood curved the corners of her pretty
mouth.
86 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
A week of ominous silence regarding the
festival succeeded in Santa Ana. The local
paper gave the fullest particulars of the
opening of the hotel, but contented itself
with saying: "The entertainment concluded
with a dance." Mr. Brooks, who felt him-
self compelled to call upon his late charming
partner twice during the week, characteris-
tically soothed her anxieties as to the result.
"The fact of it is, Mrs. Wade, there's
really nobody in particular to blame and
that 's what gets them. They 're all mixed
up in it, deacons and Sunday-school teach-
ers ; and when old Johnson tried to be nasty
the other evening and hoped you hadn't
suffered from your exertions that night, I
told him you hadn't quite recovered yet
from the physical shock of having been run
into by him and Mrs. Stubbs, but that, you
being a lady, you did n't tell just how you
felt at the exhibition he and she made of
themselves. That shut him up."
"But you shouldn't have said that," said
Mrs. Wade with a frightened little smile.
"No matter," returned Brooks cheerfully.
"I '11 take the blame of it with the others.
You see they '11 have to have a scapegoat
and I 'm just the man, for I got up the
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 87
dance ! And as I 'm going away, I suppose
I shall bear off the sin with me into the
wilderness."
"You're going away?" repeated Mrs.
Wade in more genuine concern.
"Not for long," returned Brooks laugh-
ingly. "I came here to look up a mill site,
and I 've found it. Meantime I think I 've
opened their eyes."
"You have opened mine," said the widow
with timid frankness.
They were soft pretty eyes when opened,
in spite of their heavy red lids, and Mr.
Brooks thought that Santa Ana would be
no worse if they remained open. Possibly
he looked it, for Mrs. Wade said hurriedly,
"I mean that is I've been thinking
that life needn't always be as gloomy as
we make it here. And even Acre, you know,
Mr. Brooks, we have six months' sunshine
though we always forget it in the rainy
season."
"That 's so," said Brooks cheerfully. "I
once lost a heap of money through my own
foolishness, and I 've managed to forget it,
and I even reckon to get it back again out
of Santa Ana if my mill speculation holds
good. So good-by, Mrs. Wade but not
88 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
for long." He shook her hand frankly and
departed, leaving the widow conscious of a
certain sympathetic confidence and a little
grateful for she knew not what.
This feeling remained with her most of
the afternoon, and even imparted a certain
gayety to her spirits, to the extent of caus-
ing her to hum softly to herself; the air
being oddly enough the Julien Waltz. And
when, later in the day, the shadows were
closing in with the rain, word was brought
to her that a stranger wished to see her in
the sitting-room, she carried a less mournful
mind to this function of her existence. For
Mrs. Wade was accustomed to give audience
to traveling agents, tradesmen, working-
hands and servants, as chatelaine of her
ranch, and the occasion was not novel.
Yet on entering the room, which she used
partly as an office, she found some difficulty
in classifying the stranger, who at first
glance reminded her of the tramping miner
she had seen that night from her window.
He was rather incongruously dressed, some
articles of his apparel being finer than
others; he wore a diamond pin in a scarf
folded over a rough "hickory" shirt; his
light trousers were tucked in common min-
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 89
ing boots that bore stains of travel and a
suggestion that he had slept in his clothes.
What she could see of his unshaven face
in that uncertain light expressed a kind of
dogged concentration, overlaid by an as-
sumption of ease. He got up as she came
in, and with a slight "How do, ma'am,"
shut the door behind her and glanced fur-
tively around the room.
"What I 've got to say to ye, Mrs. Wade,
as I reckon you be, is strictly private
and confidential ! Why, ye '11 see afore I
get through. But I thought I might just
as well caution ye agin our being disturbed."
Overcoming a slight instinct of repulsion,
Mrs. Wade returned, "You can speak to
me here ; no one will interrupt you unless
I call them," she added with a little femi-
nine caution.
"And I reckon ye won't do that," he
said with a grim smile. "You are the
widow o' Pulaski Wade, late o' Heavy Tree
Hill, I reckon?"
"I am," said Mrs. Wade.
"And your husband 's buried up thar in
the graveyard, with a monument over him
setting forth his virtues ez a Christian and
a square man and a high-minded citizen?
90 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
And that he was foully murdered by high-
waymen? "
"Yes," said Mrs. Wade, "that is the in-
scription."
"Well, ma'am, a bigger pack o' lies
never was cut on stone ! "
Mrs. Wade rose, half in indignation, half
in terror.
"Keep your sittin'," said the stranger,
with a warning wave of his hand. "Wait
till I 'm through, and then you call in the
hull State o' Californy, ef ye want."
The stranger's manner was so doggedly
confident that Mrs. Wade sank back trem-
blingly in her chair. The man put his
slouch hat on his knee, twirled it round
once or twice, and then said with the same
stubborn deliberation :
"The highwayman in that business was
your husband Pulaski Wade and his
gang, and he was killed by one o' the men
he was robbin'. Ye see, ma'am, it used to
be your husband's little game to rope in
three or four strangers in a poker deal at
Spanish Jim's saloon I see you 've heard
o' the place," he interpolated as Mrs. Wade
drew back suddenly " and when he could
n't clean 'em out in that way, or they
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 91
showed a little more money than they
played, he 'd lay for 'em with his gang in
a lone part of the trail, and go through
them like any road agent. That 's what he
did that night and that's how he got
killed."
"How do you know this?" said Mrs.
Wade, with quivering lips.
" I was one o' the men he went through
before he was killed. And I 'd hev got my
money back, but the rest o' the gang came
up, and I got away jest in time to save my
life and nothin' else. Ye might remember
thar was one man got away and giv' the
alarm, but he was goin' on to the States
by the overland coach that night and could
n't stay to be a witness, /was that man.
I had paid my passage through, and I could
n't lose that too with my other money, so
I went."
Mrs. Wade sat stunned. She remem-
bered the missing witness, and how she had
longed to see the man who was last with
her husband; she remembered Spanish
Jim's saloon his well-known haunt; his
frequent and unaccountable absences, the
sudden influx of money which he always
said he had won at cards ; the diamond ring
92 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
he had given her as the result of "a bet;"
the forgotten recurrence of other robberies
by a secret masked gang; a hundred other
things that had worried her, instinctively,
vaguely. She knew now, too, the meaning
of the unrest that had driven her from
Heavy Tree Hill the strange unformu-
lated fears that had haunted her even here.
Yet with all this she felt, too, her present
weakness knew that this man had taken
her at a disadvantage, that she ought to
indignantly assert herself, deny everything,
demand proof, and brand him a slanderer!
" How did you know it was my hus-
band?" she stammered.
"His mask fell off in the fight; you
know another mask was found it was his.
I saw him as plainly as I see him there ! "
he pointed to a daguerreotype of her hus-
band which stood upon her desk.
Mrs. Wade could only stare vacantly,
hopelessly. After a pause the man contin-
ued in a less aggressive manner and more
confidential tone, which, however, only in-
creased her terror. "I ain't sayin' thatyow
knowed anything about this, ma'am, and
whatever other folks might say when they
know of it, I '11 allers say that you didn't."
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 93
"What, then, did you come here for?"
said the widow desperately.
"What do I come here for?" repeated
the man grimly, looking around the room ;
"what did I come to this yer comfortable
home this yer big ranch and to a rich
woman like yourself for? Well, Mrs.
Wade, I come to get the six hundred dollars
your husband robbed me of, that's all! I
ain't askin' more! I ain't askin' interest!
I ain't askin' compensation for havin' to
run for my life and," again looking
grimly round the walls, "I ain't askin'
more than you will give or is my rights."
"But this house never was his; it was
my father's," gasped Mrs. Wade; "you
have no right "
"Mebbe 'yes' and mebbe 'no,' Mrs.
Wade," interrupted the man, with a wave
of his hat ; " but how about them two checks
to bearer for two hundred dollars each found
among your husband's effects, and collected
by your lawyer for you my checks, Mrs.
Wade?"
A wave of dreadful recollection over-
whelmed her. She remembered the checks
found upon her husband's body, known only
to her and her lawyer, believed to be gam-
94 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
bling gains, and collected at once under his
legal advice. Yet she made one more de-
sperate effort in spite of the instinct that
told her he was speaking the truth.
" But you shall have to prove it before
witnesses."
"Do you want me to prove it before wit-
nesses?" said the man, coming nearer her.
"Do you want to take my word and keep
it between ourselves, or do you want to call
in your superintendent and his men, and
all Santy Any, to hear me prove your hus-
band was a highwayman, thief, and mur-
derer? Do you want to knock over that
monument on Heavy Tree Hill, and upset
your standing here among the deacons and
elders? Do you want to do all this and be
forced, even by your neighbors, to pay me
in the end, as you will? Ef you do, call in
your witnesses now and let 's have it over.
Mebbe it would look better ef I got the
money out of your friends than ye a
woman! P'raps you 're right! "
He made a step towards the door, but
she stopped him.
"No! no! wait! It's a large sum I
haven't it with me," she stammered, thor-
oughly beaten.
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 95
"Ye kin get it."
"Give me time!" she implored. "Look!
I '11 give you a hundred down now, all I
have here, the rest another time ! " She
nervously opened a drawer of her desk and
taking out a buckskin bag of gold thrust it
in his hand. "There! go away now!" She
lifted her thin hands despairingly to her
head. "Go! do!"
The man seemed struck by her manner.
"I don't want to be hard on a woman," he
said slowly. "I '11 go now and come back
again at nine to-night. You can git the
money, or what 's as good, a check to
bearer, by then. And ef ye '11 take my ad-
vice, you won't ask no advice from others,
ef you want to keep your secret. Just now
it's safe with me; I 'm a square man, ef
I seem to be a hard one." He made a
gesture as if to take her hand, but as she
drew shrinkingly away, he changed it to an
awkward bow, and the next moment was
gone.
She started to her feet, but the unwonted
strain upon her nerves and frail body had
been greater than she knew. She made
a step forward, felt the room whirl round
her and then seem to collapse beneath her
96 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
feet, and, clutching at her chair, sank back
into it, fainting.
How long she lay there she never knew.
She was at last conscious of some one bend-
ing over her, and a voice the voice of
Mr. Brooks in her ear, saying, "I beg
your pardon; you seem ill. Shall I call
some one ? "
"No!" she gasped, quickly recovering
herself with an effort, and staring round
her. " Where is when did you come
in?"
"Only this moment. I was leaving to-
night, sooner than I expected, and thought
I 'd say good-by. They told me that you
had been engaged with a stranger, but
he had just gone. I beg your pardon I
see you are ill. I won't detain you any
longer."
"No! no! don't go! I am better
better," she said feverishly. As she glanced
at his strong and sympathetic face a wild
idea seized her. He was a stranger here,
an alien to these people, like herself. The
advice that she dare not seek from others,
from her half -estranged religious friends,
from even her superintendent and his wife,
dare she ask from him? Perhaps he saw
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 97
this frightened doubt, this imploring appeal,
in her eyes, for he said gently, " Is it any-
thing I can do for you? "
"Yes," she said, with the sudden despera-
tion of weakness; "I want you to keep a
secret."
"Yours? yes! " he said promptly.
Whereat poor Mrs. Wade instantly burst
into tears. Then, amidst her sobs, she told
him of the stranger's visit, of his terrible
accusations, of his demands, his expected
return, and her own utter helplessness. To
her terror, as she went on she saw a singu-
lar change in his kind face ; he was follow-
ing her with hard, eager intensity. She
had half hoped, even through her fateful
instincts, that he might have laughed, man-
like, at her fears, or pooh-poohed the whole
thing. But he did not. "You say he
positively recognized your husband?" he
repeated quickly.
"Yes, yes!" sobbed the widow, "and
knew that daguerreotype ! " she pointed to
the desk.
Brooks turned quickly in that direction.
Luckily his back was towards her, and she
could not see his face, and the quick, startled
look that came into his eyes. But when
98 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
they again met hers, it was gone, and even
their eager intensity had changed to a gen-
tle commiseration. "You have only his
word for it, Mrs. Wade," he said gently,
"and in telling your secret to another, you
have shorn the rascal of half his power over
you. And he knew it. Now, dismiss the
matter from your mind and leave it all to
me. I will be here a few minutes before
nine and alone in this room. Let your
visitor be shown in here, and don't let us
be disturbed. Don't be alarmed," he added
with a faint twinkle in his eye, "there will
be no fuss and no exposure ! "
It lacked a few minutes of nine when
Mr. Brooks was ushered into the sitting-
room. As soon as he was alone he quietly
examined the door and the windows, and
having satisfied himself, took his seat in
a chair casually placed behind the door.
Presently he heard the sound of voices and
a heavy footstep in the passage. He lightly
felt his waistcoat pocket it contained a
pretty little weapon of power and precision,
with a barrel scarcely two inches long.
The door opened, and the person outside
entered the room. In an instant Brooks
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 99
had shut the door and locked it behind him.
The man turned fiercely, but was faced by
Brooks quietly, with one finger calmly
hooked in his waistcoat pocket. The man
slightly recoiled from him not as much
from fear as from some vague stupefaction.
"What's that for? What's your little
game? " he said half contemptuously.
"No game at all," returned Brooks coolly.
"You came here to sell a secret. I don't
propose to have it given away first to any
listener."
" You don't who are you ? "
"That's a queer question to ask of the
man you are trying to personate but I
don't wonder! You're doing it d d
badly."
"Personate you?" said the stranger,
with staring eyes.
"Yes, me," said Brooks quietly. "I am
the only man who escaped from the robbery
that night at Heavy Tree Hill and who
went home by the Overland Coach."
The stranger stared, but recovered him-
self with a coarse laugh. " Oh, well I we 're
on the same lay, it appears! Both after
the widow afore we show up her hus-
band."
100 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY
"Not exactly," said Brooks, with his
eyes fixed intently on the stranger. "You
are here to denounce a highwayman who is
dead and escaped justice. I am here to
denounce one who is living ! Stop ! drop
your hand ; it 's no use. You thought you
had to deal only with a woman to-night,
and your revolver is n't quite handy enough.
There ! down ! down ! So ! That '11 do."
"You can't prove it," said the man
hoarsely.
" Fool ! In your story to that woman you
have given yourself away. There were but
two travelers attacked by the highwaymen.
One was killed I am the other. Where
do you come in? What witness can you
be except as the highwayman that you
are ? Who is left to identify Wade but
his accomplice ! "
The man's suddenly whitened face made
his unshaven beard seem to bristle over his
face like some wild animal's. "Well, ef
you kalkilate to blow me, you 've got to
blow Wade and his widder too. Jest you
remember that," he said whiningly.
"I've thought of that," said Brooks
coolly, "and I calculate that to prevent it
is worth about that hundred dollars you got
A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLEY 101
from that poor woman and no more !
Now, sit down at that table, and write as
I dictate."
The man looked at him in wonder, but
obeyed.
"Write," said Brooks, '"I hereby cer-
tify that my accusations against the late
Pulaski Wade of Heavy Tree Hill are er-
roneous and groundless, and the result of
mistaken identity, especially in regard to
any complicity of his in the robbery of John
Stubbs, deceased, and Henry Brooks, at
Heavy Tree Hill, on the night of the 13th
August, 1854.'"
The man looked up with a repulsive smile.
"Who's the fool now, Cap'n? What's
become of your hold on the widder, now? "
"Write! " said Brooks fiercely.
The sound of a pen hurriedly scratching
paper followed this first outburst of the
quiet Brooks.
"Sign it," said Brooks.
The man signed it.
"Now go," said Brooks, unlocking the
door, "but remember, if you should ever
be inclined to revisit Santa Ana, you will
find me living here also."
The man slunk out of the door and into
102 A WIDOW OF SANTA ANA VALLETf
the passage like a wild animal returning to
the night and darkness. Brooks took up
the paper, rejoined Mrs. Wade in the par-
lor, and laid it before her.
"But," said the widow, trembling even
in her joy, "do you do you think he was
really mistaken? "
"Positive," said Brooks coolly. "It's
true, it 's a mistake that has cost you a
hundred dollars, but there are some mis-
takes that are worth that to be kept quiet."
They were married a year later; but there
is no record that in after years of conjugal
relations with a weak, charming, but some-
times trying woman, Henry Brooks was
ever tempted to tell her the whole truth of
the robbery of Heavy Tree Hill.
THE MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE
POINT
SOME forty years ago, on the northern
coast of California, near the Golden Gate,
stood a lighthouse. Of a primitive class,
since superseded by a building more iu
keeping with the growing magnitude of the
adjacent port, it attracted little attention
from the desolate shore, and, it was alleged,
still less from the desolate sea beyond. A
gray structure of timber, stone, and glass,
it was buffeted and harried by the constant
trade winds, baked by the unclouded six
months' sun, lost for a few hours in the
afternoon sea-fog, and laughed over by cir-
cling guillemots from the Farallones. It
was kept by a recluse a preoccupied man
of scientific tastes, who, in shameless con-
trast to his fellow immigrants, had applied
to the government for this scarcely lucra-
tive position as a means of securing the
seclusion he valued more than gold. Some
believed that he was the victim of an early
disappointment in love a view charitably
104 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
taken by those who also believed that the
government would not have appointed "a
crank" to a position of responsibility.
Howbeit, he fulfilled his duties, and, with
the assistance of an Indian, even cultivated
a small patch of ground beside the light-
house. His isolation was complete ! There
was little to attract wanderers here: the
nearest mines were fifty miles away; the
virgin forest on the mountains inland were
penetrated only by sawmills and woodmen
from the Bay settlements, equally remote.
Although by the shore-line the lights of the
great port were sometimes plainly visible,
yet the solitude around him was peopled
only by Indians, a branch of the great
northern tribe of "root-diggers," peace-
ful and simple in their habits, as yet undis-
turbed by the white man, nor stirred into an-
tagonism by aggression. Civilization only
touched him at stated intervals, and then
by the more expeditious sea from the gov-
ernment boat that brought him supplies.
But for his contiguity to the perpetual tur-
moil of wind and sea, he might have passed
a restful Arcadian life in his surroundings;
for even his solitude was sometimes haunted
by this faint reminder of the great port
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 105
hard by that pulsated with an equal unrest.
Nevertheless, the sands before his door and
the rocks behind him seemed to have been
untrodden by any other white man's foot
since their upheaval from the ocean. It
was true that the little bay beside him was
marked on the map as "Sir Francis Drake's
Bay," tradition having located it as the
spot where that ingenious pirate and empire-
maker had once landed his vessels and
scraped the barnacles from his adventurous
keels. But of this Edgar Pomfrey or
"Captain Pomfrey," as he was called by
virtue of his half -nautical office had
thought little.
For the first six months he had thoroughly
enjoyed his seclusion. In the company of
his books, of which he had brought such a
fair store that their shelves lined his snug
corners to the exclusion of more comfortable
furniture, he found his principal recreation.
Even his unwonted manual labor, the trim-
ming of his lamp and cleaning of his reflec-
tors, and his personal housekeeping, in
which his Indian help at times assisted, he
found a novel and interesting occupation.
For outdoor exercise, a ramble on the sands,
a climb to the rocky upland, or a pull in
106 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
the lighthouse boat, amply sufficed him.
"Crank" as he was supposed to be, he was
sane enough to guard against any of those
early lapses into barbarism which marked
the lives of some solitary gold-miners. His
own taste, as well as the duty of his office,
kept his person and habitation sweet and
clean, and his habits regular. Even the
little cultivated patch of ground on the lee
side of the tower was symmetrical and well
ordered. Thus the outward light of Cap-
tain Pomfrey shone forth over the wilder-
ness of shore and wave, even like his beacon,
whatever his inward illumination may have
been.
It was a bright summer morning, remark-
able even in the monotonous excellence of
the season, with a slight touch of warmth
which the invincible Northwest Trades had
not yet chilled. There was still a faint
haze off the coast, as if last night's fog had
been caught in the quick sunshine, and the
shining sands were hot, but without the
usual dazzling glare. A faint perfume
from a quaint lilac-colored beach-flower,
whose clustering heads dotted the sand like
bits of blown spume, took the place of that
smell of the sea which the odorless Pacific
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 107
lacked. A few rocks, half a mile away,
lifted themselves above the ebb tide at vary-
ing heights as they lay on the trough of the
swell, were crested with foam by a striking
surge, or cleanly erased in the full sweep
of the sea. Beside, and partly upon one
of the higher rocks, a singular object was
moving.
Pomfrey was interested but not startled.
He had once or twice seen seals disporting
on these rocks, and on one occasion a sea-
lion, an estray from the familiar rocks on
the other side of the Golden Gate. But he
ceased work in his garden patch, and com-
ing to his house, exchanged his hoe for a
telescope. When he got the mystery in
focus he suddenly stopped and rubbed the
object-glass with his handkerchief. But
even when he applied the glass to his eye
for a second time, he could scarcely believe
his eyesight. For the object seemed to be
a woman, the lower part of her figure sub-
merged in the sea, her long hair depending
over her shoulders and waist. There was
nothing in her attitude to suggest terror or
that she was the victim of some accident.
She moved slowly and complacently with
the sea, and even a more staggering sug-
108 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
gestion appeared to be combing out the
strands of her long hair with her fingers.
With her body half concealed she might
have been a mermaid !
He swept the foreshore and horizon with
his glass; there was neither boat nor ship
nor anything that moved, except the
long swell of the Pacific. She could have
come only from the sea; for to reach the
rocks by land she would have had to pass
before the lighthouse, while the narrow strip
of shore which curved northward beyond
his range of view he knew was inhabited
only by Indians. But the woman was un-
hesitatingly and appallingly white, and her
hair light even to a golden gleam in the
sunshine.
Pomfrey was a gentleman, and as such
was amazed, dismayed, and cruelly embar-
rassed. If she was a simple bather from
some vicinity hitherto unknown and unsus-
pected by him, it was clearly his business
to shut up his glass and go back to his
garden patch although the propinquity of
himself and the lighthouse must have been
as plainly visible to her as she was to him.
On the other hand, if she was the survivor
of some wreck and in distress or, as he
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 109
even fancied from her reckless manner, be-
reft of her senses, his duty to rescue her
was equally clear. In his dilemma he de-
termined upon a compromise and ran to his
boat. He would pull out to sea, pass be-
tween the rocks and the curving sand-spit,
and examine the sands and sea more closely
for signs of wreckage, or some overlooked
waiting boat near the shore. He would
be within hail if she needed him, or she
could escape to her boat if she had one.
In another moment his boat was lifting
on the swell towards the rocks. He pulled
quickly, occasionally turning to note that
the strange figure, whose movements were
quite discernible to the naked eye, was still
there, but gazing more earnestly towards
the nearest shore for any sign of life or
occupation. In ten minutes he had reached
the curve where the trend opened north-
ward, and the long line of shore stretched
before him. He swept it eagerly with a
single searching glance. Sea and shore
were empty. He turned quickly to the
rock, scarcely a hundred yards on his beam.
It was empty too ! Forgetting his previous
scruples, he pulled directly for it until his
keel grated on its submerged base. There
110 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
was nothing there but the rock, slippery
with the yellow-green slime of seaweed and
kelp neither trace nor sign of the figure
that had occupied it a moment ago. He
pulled around it ; there was no cleft or
hiding - place. For an instant his heart
leaped at the sight of something white,
caught in a jagged tooth of the outlying
reef, but it was only the bleached fragment
of a bamboo orange -crate, cast from the
deck of some South Sea trader, such as
often strewed the beach. He lay off the
rock, keeping way in the swell, and scruti-
nizing the glittering sea. At last he pulled
back to the lighthouse, perplexed and dis-
comfited.
Was it simply a sporting seal, trans-
formed by some trick of his vision? But
he had seen it through his glass, and now
remembered such details as the face and
features framed in their contour of golden
hair, and believed he could even have iden-
tified them. He examined the rock again
with his glass, and was surprised to see how
clearly it was outlined now in its barren
loneliness. Yet he must have been mis-
taken. His scientific and accurate mind
allowed of no errant fancy, and he had al-
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 111
ways sneered at the marvelous as the result
of hasty or superficial observation. He
was a little worried at this lapse of his
healthy accuracy, fearing that it might be
the result of his seclusion and loneliness,
akin to the visions of the recluse and soli-
tary. It was strange, too, that it should
take the shape of a woman; for Edgar
Pomfrey had a story the usual old and
foolish one.
Then his thoughts took a lighter phase,
and he turned to the memory of his books,
and finally to the books themselves. From
a shelf he picked out a volume of old voy-
ages, and turned to a remembered passage :
"In other seas doe abound marvells soche
as Sea Spyders of the bigness of a pinnace,
the wich they have been known to attack
and destroy; Sea Vypers which reach to
the top of a goodly maste, whereby they are
able to draw marinners from the rigging by
the suction of their breathes; and Devill
Fyshe, which" vomit fire by night which
makyth the sea to shine prodigiously, and
mermaydes. They are half fyshe and half
mayde of grate Beauty, and have been seen
of divers godly and creditable witnesses
swymming beside rocks, hidden to their
112 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
waist in the sea, combing of their hayres,
to the help of whych they carry a small
mirrore of the bigness of their fingers."
Pomfrey laid the book aside with a faint
smile. To even this credulity he might
come !
Nevertheless, he used the telescope again
that day. But there was no repetition of
the incident, and he was forced to believe
that he had been the victim of some extraor-
dinary illusion. The next morning, how-
ever, with his calmer judgment doubts be-
gan to visit him. There was no one of
whom he could make inquiries but his In-
dian helper, and their conversation had
usually been restricted to the language of
signs or the use of a few words he had
picked up. He contrived, however, to ask
if there was a "waugee" (white) woman in
the neighborhood. The Indian shook his
head in surprise. There was no "waugee"
nearer than the remote mountain-ridge to
which he pointed. Pomfrey was obliged to
be content with this. Even had his vocab-
ulary been larger, he would as soon have
thought of revealing the embarrassing secret
of this woman, whom he believed to be of
his own race, to a mere barbarian as he
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 113
would of asking him to verify his own im-
pressions by allowing him to look at her
that morning. The next day, however,
something happened which forced him to
resume his inquiries. He was rowing
around the curving spot when he saw a
number of black objects on the northern
sands moving in and out of the surf, which
he presently made out as Indians. A nearer
approach satisfied him that they were wad-
ing squaws and children gathering seaweed
and shells. He would have pushed his ac-
quaintance still nearer, but as his boat
rounded the point, with one accord they all
scuttled away like frightened sandpipers.
Pomfrey, on his return, asked his Indian
retainer if they could swim. " Oh, yes! "
"As far as the rock? " "Yes." Yet Pom-
frey was not satisfied. The color of his
strange apparition remained unaccounted
for, and it was not that of an Indian woman.
Trifling events linger long in a monoto-
nous existence, and it was nearly a week
before Pomfrey gave up his daily telescopic
inspection of the rock. Then he fell back
upon his books again, and, oddly enough,
upon another volume of voyages, and so
chanced upon the account of Sir Francis
114 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
Drake's occupation of the bay before him.
He had always thought it strange that the
great adventurer had left no trace or sign
of his sojourn there; still stranger that he
should have overlooked the presence of
gold, known even to the Indians themselves,
and have lost a discovery far beyond his
wildest dreams and a treasure to which the
cargoes of those Philippine galleons he had
more or less successfully intercepted were
trifles. Had the restless explorer been con-
tent to pace those dreary sands during three
weeks of inactivity, with no thought of pen-
etrating the inland forests behind the range,
or of even entering the nobler bay beyond?
Or was the location of the spot a mere
tradition as wild and unsupported as the
"mar veils " of the other volume? Pomfrey
had the skepticism of the scientific, inquir-
ing mind.
Two weeks had passed and he was return-
ing from a long climb inland, when he
stopped to rest in his descent to the sea.
The panorama of the shore was before him,
from its uttermost limit to the lighthouse
on the northern point. The sun was still
one hour high, it would take him about that
time to reach home. But from this coign
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 115
of vantage he could see what he had not
before observed that what he had always
believed was a little cove on the northern
shore was really the estuary of a small
stream which rose near him and eventually
descended into the ocean at that point. He
could also see that beside it was a long low
erection of some kind, covered with thatched
brush, which looked like a "barrow," yet
showed signs of habitation in the slight
smoke that rose from it and drifted inland.
It was not far out of his way, and he re-
solved to return in that direction. On his
way down he once or twice heard the bark-
ing of an Indian dog, and knew that he
must be in the vicinity of an encampment.
A camp-fire, with the ashes yet warm,
proved that he was on the trail of one of
the nomadic tribes, but the declining sun
warned him to hasten home to his duty.
When he at last reached the estuary, he
found that the building beside it was little
else than a long hut, whose thatched and
mud-plastered mound-like roof gave it the
appearance of a cave. Its single opening
and entrance abutted on the water's edge,
and the smoke he had noticed rolled through
this entrance from a smouldering fire within.
116 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
Pomfrey had little difficulty in recognizing
the purpose of this strange structure from
the accounts he had heard from "loggers"
of the Indian customs. The cave was a
"sweat-house" a calorific chamber in
which the Indians closely shut themselves,
naked, with a "smudge" or smouldering
fire of leaves, until, perspiring and half
suffocated, they rushed from the entrance
and threw themselves into the water before
it. The still smouldering fire told him that
the house had been used that morning, and
he made no doubt that the Indians were en-
camped near by. He would have liked to
pursue his researches further, but he found
he had already trespassed upon his remain-
ing time, and he turned somewhat abruptly
away so abruptly, in fact, that a figure,
which had evidently been cautiously follow-
ing him at a distance, had not time to get
away. His heart leaped with astonishment.
It was the woman he had seen on the rock.
Although her native dress now only dis-
closed her head and hands, there was no
doubt about her color, and it was distinctly
white, save for the tanning of exposure and
a slight red ochre marking on her low fore-
head. And her hair, long and unkempt as
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 117
it was, showed that he had not erred in his
first impression of it. It was a tawny
flaxen, with fainter bleachings where the
sun had touched it most. Her eyes were
of a clear Northern blue. Her dress, which
was quite distinctive in that it was neither
the cast off finery of civilization nor the
cheap "government" flannels and calicoes
usually worn by the Californian tribes, was
purely native, and of fringed deerskin, and
consisted of a long, loose shirt and leggings
worked with bright feathers and colored
shells. A necklace, also of shells and fancy
pebbles, hung round her neck. She seemed
to be a fully developed woman, in spite of
the girlishness of her flowing hair, and
notwithstanding the shapeless length of her
gaberdine -like garment, taller than the ordi-
nary squaw.
Pomfrey saw all this in a single flash of
perception, for the next instant she was
gone, disappearing behind the sweat-house.
He ran after her, catching sight of her
again, half doubled up, in the characteris-
tic Indian trot, dodging around rocks and
low bushes as she fled along the banks of
the stream. But for her distinguishing
hair, she looked in her flight like an ordi-
118 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
nary frightened squaw. This, which gave
a sense of unmanliness and ridicule to his
own pursuit of her, with the fact that his
hour of duty was drawing near and he was
still far from the lighthouse, checked him
in full career, and he turned regretfully
away. He had called after her at first,
and she had not heeded him. What he
would have said to her he did not know.
He hastened home discomfited, even em-
barrassed yet excited to a degree he had
not deemed possible in himself.
During the morning his thoughts were
full of her. Theory after theory for her
strange existence there he examined and
dismissed. His first thought, that she was
a white woman some settler's wife
masquerading in Indian garb, he aban-
doned when he saw her moving; no white
woman could imitate that Indian trot, nor
would remember to attempt it if she were
frightened. The idea that she was a cap-
tive white, held by the Indians, became
ridiculous when he thought of the nearness
of civilization and the peaceful, timid char-
acter of the "digger " tribes. That she was
some unfortunate demented creature who
had escaped from her keeper and wandered
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 119
into the wilderness, a glance at her clear,
frank, intelligent, curious eyes had contra-
dicted. There was but one theory left
the most sensible and practical one that
she was the offspring of some white man
and Indian squaw. Yet this he found,
oddly enough, the least palatable to his
fancy. And the few half-breeds he had
seen were not at all like her.
The next morning he had recourse to his
Indian retainer, "Jim." With infinite
difficulty, protraction, and not a little em-
barrassment, he finally made him under-
stand that he had seen a "white squaw"
near the "sweat-house," and that he wanted
to know more about her. With equal dif-
ficulty Jim finally recognized the fact of
the existence of such a person, but imme-
diately afterwards shook his head in an em-
phatic negation. With greater difficulty
and greater mortification Pomf rey presently
ascertained that Jim's negative referred to
a supposed abduction of the woman which
he understood that his employer seriously
contemplated. But he also learned that
she was a real Indian, and that there were
three or four others like her, male and fe-
male, in that vicinity ; that from a " skeena
120 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
mo witch " (little baby) they were all like
that, and that their parents were of the
same color, but never a white or "waugee"
man or woman among them ; that they were
looked upon as a distinct and superior caste
of Indians, and enjoyed certain privileges
with the tribe; that they superstitiously
avoided white men, of whom they had the
greatest fear, and that they were protected
in this by the other Indians; that it was
marvelous and almost beyond belief that
Pomfrey had been able to see one, for no
other white man had, or was even aware of
their existence.
How much of this he actually understood,
how much of it was lying and due to Jim's
belief that he wished to abduct the fair
stranger, Pomfrey was unable to determine.
There was enough, however, to excite his
curiosity strongly and occupy his mind to
the exclusion of his books save one.
Among his smaller volumes he had found
a travel book of the "Chinook Jargon,"
with a lexicon of many of the words com-
monly used by the Northern Pacific tribes.
An hour or two's trial with the astonished
Jim gave him an increased vocabulary and
a new occupation. Each day the incon-
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 121
gruous pair took a lesson from the lexicon.
In a week Pomfrey felt lie would be able
to accost the mysterious stranger. But he
did not again surprise her in any of his
rambles, or even in a later visit to the
sweat-house. He had learned from Jim that
the house was only used by the "bucks,"
or males, and that her appearance there
had been accidental. He recalled that he
had had the impression that she had been
stealthily following him, and the recollec-
tion gave him a pleasure he could not ac-
count for. But an incident presently oc-
curred which gave him a new idea of her
relations towards him.
The difficulty of making Jim understand
had hitherto prevented Pomfrey from in-
trusting him with the care of the lantern;
but with the aid of the lexicon he had been
able to make him comprehend its working,
and under Pomfrey's personal guidance the
Indian had once or twice lit the lamp and
set its machinery in motion. It remained
for him only to test Jim's unaided capa-
city, in case of his own absence or illness.
It happened to be a warm, beautiful sunset,
when the afternoon fog had for once de-
layed its invasion of the shore-line, that he
122 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
left the lighthouse to Jim's undivided care,
and reclining on a sand-dune still warm
from the sun, lazily watched the result of
Jim's first essay. As the twilight deep-
ened, and the first flash of the lantern
strove with the dying glories of the sun,
Pomfrey presently became aware that he
was not the only watcher. A little gray
figure creeping on all fours suddenly glided
out of the shadow of another sand-dune and
then halted, falling back on its knees, gaz-
ing fixedly at the growing light. It was
the woman he had seen. She was not a
dozen yards away, and in her eagerness and
utter absorption in the light had evidently
overlooked him. He could see her face
distinctly, her lips parted half in wonder,
half with the breathless absorption of a
devotee. A faint sense of disappointment
came over him. It was not him she was
watching, but the light! As it swelled out
over the darkening gray sand she turned as
if to watch its effect around her, and caught
sight of Pomfrey. With a little startled
cry the first she had uttered she darted
away. He did not follow. A moment be-
fore, when he first saw her, an Indian salu-
tation which he had learned from Jim had
MERMAID OF LiaHT HOUSE POINT 123
risen to his lips, but in the odd feeling
which her fascination of the light had
caused him he had not spoken. He watched
her bent figure scuttling away like some
frightened animal, with a critical conscious-
ness that she was really scarce human, and
went back to the lighthouse. He would
not run after her again ! Yet that evening
he continued to think of her, and recalled
her voice, which struck him now as having
been at once melodious and childlike, and
wished he had at least spoken, and perhaps
elicited a reply.
He did not, however, haunt the sweat-
house near the river again. Yet he still
continued his lessons with Jim, and in this
way, perhaps, although quite unpremedi-
tatedly, enlisted a humble ally. A week
passed in which he had not alluded to her,
when one morning, as he was returning
from a row, Jim met him mysteriously on
the beach.
"S'pose him come slow, slow," said Jim
gravely, airing his newly acquired English ;
"make no noise plenty catchee Indian
maiden." The last epithet was the polite
lexicon equivalent of squaw.
Pomfrey, not entirely satisfied in his
124 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
mind, nevertheless softly followed the noise-
lessly gliding Jim to the lighthouse. Here
Jim cautiously opened the door, motioning
Pomfrey to enter.
The base of the tower was composed of
two living rooms, a storeroom and oil-tank.
As Pomfrey entered, Jim closed the door
softly behind him. The abrupt transition
from the glare of the sands and sun to the
semi-darkness of the storeroom at first pre-
vented him from seeing anything, but he
was instantly distracted by a scurrying flut-
ter and wild beating of the walls, as of a
caged bird. In another moment he could
make out the fair stranger, quivering with
excitement, passionately dashing at the
barred window, the walls, the locked door,
and circling around the room in her desper-
ate attempt to find an egress, like a captured
seagull. Amazed, mystified, indignant with
Jim, himself, and even his unfortunate cap-
tive, Pomfrey called to her in Chinook to
stop, and going to the door, flung it wide
open. She darted by him, raising her soft
blue eyes for an instant in a swift, sidelong
glance of half appeal, half -frightened admi-
ration, and rushed out into the open. But
here, to his surprise, she did not run away.
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 125
On the contrary, she drew herself up with
a dignity that seemed to increase her height,
and walked majestically towards Jim, who
at her unexpected exit had suddenly thrown
himself upon the sand, in utterly abject
terror and supplication. She approached
him slowly, with one small hand uplifted in
a menacing gesture. The man writhed and
squirmed before her. Then she turned,
caught sight of Pomfrey standing in the
doorway, and walked quietly away.
Amazed, yet gratified with this new asser-
tion of herself, Pomfrey respectfully, but
alas! incautiously, called after her. In an
instant, at the sound of his voice, she
dropped again into her slouching Indian
trot and glided away over the sandhills.
Pomfrey did not add any reproof of his
own to the discomfiture of his Indian re-
tainer. Neither did he attempt to inquire
the secret of this savage girl's power over
him. It was evident he had spoken truly
when he told his master that she was of a
superior caste. Pomfrey recalled her erect
and indignant figure standing over the pro-
strate Jim, and was again perplexed and
disappointed at her sudden lapse into the
timid savage at the sound of his voice.
126 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
Would not this well-meant but miserable
trick of Jim's have the effect of increas-
ing her unreasoning animal-like distrust of
him? A few days later brought an unex-
pected answer to his question.
It was the hottest hour of the day. He
had been fishing off the reef of rocks where
he had first seen her, and had taken in his
line and was leisurely pulling for the light-
house. Suddenly a little musical cry not
unlike a bird's struck his ear. He lay on
his oars and listened. It was repeated;
but this time it was unmistakably recogni-
zable as the voice of the Indian girl, al-
though he had heard it but once. He
turned eagerly to the rock, but it was
empty; he pulled around it, but saw no-
thing. He looked towards the shore, and
swung his boat in that direction, when
again the cry was repeated with the faintest
quaver of a laugh, apparently on the level
of the sea before him. For the first time
he looked down, and there on the crest of
a wave not a dozen yards ahead, danced
the yellow hair and laughing eyes of the
girl. The frightened gravity of her look
was gone, lost in the flash of her white teeth
and quivering dimples as her dripping face
127
rose above the sea. When their eyes met
she dived again, but quickly reappeared on
the other bow, swimming with lazy, easy
strokes, her smiling head thrown back over
her white shoulder, as if luring him to a
race. If her smile was a revelation to him,
still more so was this first touch of feminine
coquetry in her attitude. He pulled eagerly
towards her; with a few long overhand
strokes she kept her distance, or, if he ap-
proached too near, she dived like a loon,
coming up astern of him with the same
childlike, mocking cry. In vain he pursued
her, calling her to stop in her own tongue,
and laughingly protested ; she easily avoided
his boat at every turn. Suddenly, when
they were nearly abreast of the river estu-
ary, she rose in the water, and, waving her
little hands with a gesture of farewell,
turned, and curving her back like a dolphin,
leaped into the surging swell of the estuary
bar and was lost in its foam. It would
have been madness for him to have at-
tempted to follow in his boat, and he saw
that she knew it. He waited until her
yellow crest appeared in the smoother water
of the river, and then rowed back. In his
excitement and preoccupation he had quite
128 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
forgotten his long exposure to the sun dur-
ing his active exercise, and that he was
poorly equipped for the cold sea-fog which
the heat had brought in earlier, and which
now was quietly obliterating sea and shore.
This made his progress slower and more
difficult, and by the time he had reached
the lighthouse he was chilled to the bone.
The next morning he woke with a dull
headache and great weariness, and it was
with considerable difficulty that he could
attend to his duties. At nightfall, feeling
worse, he determined to transfer the care
of the light to Jim, but was amazed to find
that he had disappeared, and what was
more ominous, a bottle of spirits which
Pomfrey had taken from his locker the
night before had disappeared too. Like all
Indians, Jim's rudimentary knowledge of
civilization included "fire-water;" he evi-
dently had been tempted, had fallen, and
was too ashamed or too drunk to face his
master. Pomfrey, however, managed to
get the light in order and working, and
then, he scarcely knew how, betook him-
self to bed in a state of high fever. He
turned from side to side racked by pain,
with burning lips and pulses. Strange fan-
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 129
cies beset him; he had noticed when he lit
his light that a strange sail was looming off
the estuary a place where no sail had
ever been seen or should be and was re-
lieved that the lighting of the tower might
show the reckless or ignorant mariner his
real bearings for the "Gate." At times he
had heard voices above the familiar song
of the surf, and tried to rise from his bed,
but could not. Sometimes these voices
were strange, outlandish, dissonant, in his
own language, yet only partly intelligible;
but through them always rang a single
voice, musical, familiar, yet of a tongue
not his own hers ! And then, out of his
delirium for such it proved afterwards to
be came a strange vision. He thought
that he had just lit the light when, from
some strange and unaccountable reason, it
suddenly became dim and defied all his
efforts to revive it. To add to his discom-
fiture, he could see quite plainly through
the lantern a strange-looking vessel stand-
ing in from the sea. She was so clearly
out of her course for the Gate that he knew
she had not seen the light, and his limbs
trembled with shame and terror as he tried
in vain to rekindle the dying light. Yet to
130 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
his surprise the strange ship kept steadily
on, passing the dangerous reef of rocks,
until she was actually in the waters of the
bay. But stranger than all, swimming be-
neath her bows was the golden head and
laughing face of the Indian girl, even as he
had seen it the day before. A strange re-
vulsion of feeling overtook him. Believing
that she was luring the ship to its destruc-
tion, he ran out on the beach and strove to
hail the vessel and warn it of its impending
doom. But he could not speak no sound
came from his lips. And now his attention
was absorbed by the ship itself. High-
bowed and pooped, and curved like the
crescent moon, it was the strangest craft
that he had ever seen. Even as he gazed it
glided on nearer and nearer, and at last
beached itself noiselessly on the sands before
his own feet. A score of figures as bizarre
and outlandish as the ship itself now
thronged its high forecastle really a cas-
tle in shape and warlike purpose and
leaped from its ports. The common sea-
men were nearly naked to the waist; the
officers looked more like soldiers than sail-
ors. What struck him more strangely was
that they were one and all seemingly un-
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 131
conscious of the existence of the lighthouse,
sauntering up and down carelessly, as if on
some uninhabited strand, and even talking
so far as he could understand their old
bookish dialect as if in some hitherto un-
discovered land. Their ignorance of the
geography of the whole coast, and even of
the sea from which they came, actually
aroused his critical indignation ; their coarse
and stupid allusions to the fair Indian
swimmer as the "mermaid" that they had
seen upon their bow made him more furious
still. Yet he was helpless to express his
contemptuous anger, or even make them
conscious of his presence. Then an inter-
val of incoherency and utter blankness fol-
lowed. When he again took up the thread
of his fancy the ship seemed to be lying on
her beam ends on the sand; the strange
arrangement of her upper deck and top-
hamper, more like a dwelling than any ship
he had ever seen, was fully exposed to view,
while the seamen seemed to be at work with
the rudest contrivances, calking and scrap-
ing her barnacled sides. He saw that
phantom crew, when not working, at was-
sail and festivity; heard the shouts of
drunken roisterers; saw the placing of a
132 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
guard around some of the most uncontrol-
lable, and later detected the stealthy escape
of half a dozen sailors inland, amidst the
fruitless volley fired upon them from obso-
lete blunderbusses. Then his strange vision
transported him inland, where he saw these
seamen following some Indian women.
Suddenly one of them turned and ran fren-
ziedly towards him as if seeking succor,
closely pursued by one of the sailors.
Pomfrey strove to reach her, struggled vio-
lently with the fearful apathy that seemed
to hold his limbs, and then, as she uttered
at last a little musical cry, burst his bonds
and awoke !
As consciousness slowly struggled back
to him, he could see the bare wooden-like
walls of his sleeping-room, the locker, the
one window bright with sunlight, the open
door of the tank-room, and the little stair-
case to the tower. There was a strange
smoky and herb-like smell in the room.
He made an effort to rise, but as he did so
a small sunburnt hand was laid gently yet
restrainingly upon his shoulder, and he
heard the same musical cry as before, but
this time modulated to a girlish laugh. He
raised his head faintly. Half squatting,
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 133
half kneeling by his bed was the yellow-
haired stranger.
With the recollection of his vision still
perplexing him, he said in a weak voice,
"Who are you?"
Her blue eyes met his own with quick
intelligence and no trace of her former
timidity. A soft, caressing light had taken
its place. Pointing with her finger to her
breast in a childlike gesture, she said, "Me
Olooya."
"Olooya!" He remembered suddenly
that Jim had always used that word in
speaking of her, but until then he had
always thought it was some Indian term
for her distinct class.
"Olooya," he repeated. Then, with dif-
ficulty attempting to use her own tongue,
he asked, "When did you come here?"
"Last night," she answered in the same
tongue. "There was no witch-fire there,"
she continued, pointing to the tower ; " when
it came not, Olooya came! Olooya found
white chief sick and alone. W T hite chief
could not get up! Olooya lit witch-fire for
him."
"You? " he repeated in astonishment.
"I lit it my self."
134 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
She looked at him pityingly, as if still
recognizing his delirium, and shook her
head. "White chief was sick how can
know? Olooya made witch-fire."
He cast a hurried glance at his watch
hanging on the wall beside him. It had
run down, although he had wound it the
last thing before going to bed. He had
evidently been lying there helpless beyond
the twenty -four hours !
He groaned and turned to rise, but she
gently forced him down again, and gave
him some herbal infusion, in which he re-
cognized the taste of the Yerba Buena vine
which grew by the river. Then she made
him comprehend in her own tongue that
Jim had been decoyed, while drunk, aboard
a certain schooner lying off the shore at a
spot where she had seen some men digging
in the sands. She had not gone there, for
she was afraid of the bad men, and a slight
return of her former terror came into her
changeful eyes. She knew how to light
the witch-light ; she reminded him she had
been in the tower before.
"You have saved my light, and perhaps
my life," he said weakly, taking her hand.
Possibly she did not understand him, for
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 135
her only answer was a vague smile. But
the next instant she started up, listening
intently, and then with a frightened cry
drew away her hand and suddenly dashed
out of the building. In the midst of his
amazement the door was darkened by a fig-
ure a stranger dressed like an ordinary
miner. Pausing a moment to look after
the flying Olooya, the man turned and
glanced around the room, and then with a
coarse, familiar smile approached Pomfrey.
"Hope I ain't disturbin' ye, but I al-
lowed I 'd just be neighborly and drop in
seem' as this is gov'nment property, and
me and my pardners, as American citizens
and tax-payers, helps to support it. We 're
coastin' from Trinidad down here and pro-
spectin' along the beach for gold in the
sand. Ye seem to hev a mighty soft berth
of it here nothing to do and lots of
purty half-breeds hangin' round! "
The man's effrontery was too much for
Pomfrey's self-control, weakened by illness.
"It is government property," he answered
hotly, "and you have no more right to in-
trude upon it than you have to decoy away
my servant, a government employee, during
my illness, and jeopardize that property."
136 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
The unexpectedness of this attack, and
the sudden revelation of the fact of Pom-
frey's illness in his flushed face and hollow
voice apparently frightened and confused
the stranger. He stammered a surly ex-
cuse, backed out of the doorway, and disap-
peared. An hour later Jim appeared,
crestfallen, remorseful, and extravagantly
penitent. Pomfrey was too weak for re-
proaches or inquiry, and he was thinking
only of Olooya.
She did not return. His recovery in that
keen air, aided, as he sometimes thought,
by the herbs she had given him, was almost
as rapid as his illness. The miners did not
again intrude upon the lighthouse nor trou-
ble his seclusion. When he was able to
sun himself on the sands, he could see them
in the distance at work on the beach. He
reflected that she would not come back while
they were there, and was reconciled. But
one morning Jim appeared, awkward and
embarrassed, leading another Indian, whom
he introduced as Olooya's brother. Pom-
frey's suspicions were aroused. Except
that the stranger had something of the girl's
superiority of manner, there was no likeness
whatever to his fair-haired acquaintance.
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 137
But a fury of indignation was added to his
suspicions when he learned the amazing
purport of their visit. It was nothing less
than an offer from the alleged brother to
sell his sister to Pomfrey for forty dollars
and a jug of whiskey! Unfortunately,
Pomfrey 's temper once more got the better
of his judgment. With a scathing exposi-
tion of the laws under which the Indian
and white man equally lived, and the legal
punishment of kidnaping, he swept what
he believed was the impostor from his pre-
sence. He was scarcely alone again before
he remembered that his imprudence might
affect the girl's future access to him, but it
was too late now.
Still he clung to the belief that he should
see her when the prospectors had departed,
and he hailed with delight the breaking up
of the camp near the "sweat-house" and
the disappearance of the schooner. It
seemed that their gold-seeking was unsuc-
cessful; but Pomfrey was struck, on visit-
ing the locality, to find that in their exca-
vations in the sand at the estuary they had
uncovered the decaying timbers of a ship's
small boat of some ancient and obsolete
construction. This made him think of his
138 MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT
strange dream, with a vague sense of warn-
ing which- he could not shake off, and on
his return to the lighthouse he took from
his shelves a copy of the old voyages to see
how far his fancy had been affected by his
reading. In the account of Drake's visit
to the coast he found a footnote which he
had overlooked before, and which ran as
follows: "The Admiral seems to have
lost several of his crew by desertion, who
were supposed to have perished miserably
by starvation in the inhospitable interior
or by the hands of savages. But later voy-
agers have suggested that the deserters
married Indian wives, and there is a legend
that a hundred years later a singular race
of half-breeds, bearing unmistakable Anglo-
Saxon characteristics, was found in that
locality." Pomfrey fell into a reverie of
strange hypotheses and fancies. He re-
solved that, when he again saw Olooya, he
would question her ; her terror of these men
might be simply racial or some hereditary
transmission.
But his intention was never fulfilled.
For when days and weeks had elapsed, and
he had vainly haunted the river estuary and
the rocky reef before the lighthouse without
MERMAID OF LIGHTHOUSE POINT 139
a sign of her, he overcame his pride suffi-
ciently to question Jim. The man looked
at him with dull astonishment.
"Olooya gone," he said.
"Gone! where?"
The Indian made a gesture to seaward
which seemed to encompass the whole Pa-
cific.
"How? With whom?" repeated his
angry yet half -frightened master.
" With white man in ship. You say you
no want Olooya forty dollars too much.
White man give fifty dollars takee Olooya
all same."
UNDER THE EAVES
THE assistant editor of the San Francisco
"Daily Informer" was going home. So
much of his time was spent in the office of
the "Informer" that no one ever cared to
know where he passed those six hours of
sleep which presumably suggested a domi-
cile. His business appointments outside
the office were generally kept at the restau-
rant where he breakfasted and dined, or of
evenings in the lobbies of theatres or the
anterooms of public meetings. Yet he had
a home and an interval of seclusion of which
he was jealously mindful, and it was to this
he was going to-night at his usual hour.
His room was iu a new building on one
of the larger and busier thoroughfares.
The lower floor was occupied by a bank,
but as it was closed before he came home,
and not yet opened when he left, it did not
disturb his domestic sensibilities. The same
may be said of the next floor, which was
devoted to stockbrokers' and companies'
offices, and was equally tomb-like and silent
UNDER THE EAVES 141
when he passed; the floor above that was
a desert of empty rooms, which echoed to
his footsteps night and morning, with here
and there an oasis in the green sign of a
mining secretary's office, with, however,
the desolating announcement that it would
only be "open for transfers from two to
four on Saturdays." The top floor had
been frankly abandoned in an unfinished
state by the builder, whose ambition had
"o'erleaped itself " in that sanguine era of
the city's growth. There was a smell of
plaster and the first coat of paint about it
still, but the whole front of the building
was occupied by a long room with odd
"bull's-eye" windows looking out through
the heavy ornamentations of the cornice
over the adjacent roofs.
It had been originally intended for a
club-room, but after the ill fortune which
attended the letting of the floor below, and
possibly because the earthquake-fearing San
Franciscans had their doubts of successful
hilarity at the top of so tall a building, it
remained unfinished, with the two smaller
rooms at its side. Its incomplete and
lonely grandeur had once struck the editor
during a visit of inspection, and the land-
142 UNDER THE EAVES
lord, whom he knew, had offered to make
it habitable for him at a nominal rent. It
had a lavatory with a marble basin and a
tap of cold water. The offer was a novel
one, but he accepted it, and fitted up the
apartment with some cheap second-hand
furniture, quite inconsistent with the carved
mantels and decorations, and made a fair
sitting-room and bedroom of it. Here, on
a Sunday, when its stillness was intensified,
and even a passing footstep on the pave-
ment fifty feet below was quite startling, he
would sit and work by one of the quaint
open windows. In the rainy season, through
the filmed panes he sometimes caught a
glimpse of the distant, white-capped bay,
but never of the street below him.
The lights were out, but, groping his way
up to the first landing, he took from a cup-
boarded niche in the wall his candlestick and
matches and continued the ascent to his
room. The humble candlelight flickered on
the ostentatious gold letters displayed on the
ground-glass doors of opulent companies
which he knew were famous, and rooms
where millionaires met in secret conclave,
but the contrast awakened only his sense of
humor. Yet he was always relieved after
UNDER THE EAVES 143
he had reached his own floor. Possibly its
incompleteness and inchoate condition made
it seem less lonely than the desolation of the
finished and furnished rooms below, and it
was only this recollection of past human
occupancy that was depressing.
He opened his door, lit the solitary gas
jet that only half illuminated the long room,
and, it being already past midnight, began
to undress himself. This process presently
brought him to that corner of his room
where his bed stood, when he suddenly
stopped, and his sleepy yawn changed to
a gape of surprise. For, lying in the bed,
its head upon the pillow, and its rigid arms
accurately stretched down over the turned -
back sheet, was a child's doll! It was a
small doll a banged and battered doll,
that had seen service, but it had evidently
been "tucked in " with maternal tenderness,
and lay there with its staring eyes turned
to the ceiling, the very genius of insomnia!
His first start of surprise was followed by
a natural resentment of what might have
been an impertinent intrusion on his privacy
by some practical-joking adult, for he knew
there was no child in the house.
His room was kept in order by the wife
144 UNDER THE EAVES
of the night watchman employed by the
bank, and no one else had a right of access
to it. But the woman might have brought
a child there and not noticed its disposal of
its plaything. He smiled. It might have
been worse! It might have been a real
baby!
The idea tickled him with a promise of
future "copy" of a story with farcical
complications, or even a dramatic ending,
in which the baby, adopted by him, should
turn out to be somebody's stolen offspring.
He lifted the little image that had sug-
gested these fancies, carefully laid it on his
table, went to bed, and presently forgot it
all in slumber.
In the morning his good-humor and in-
terest in it revived to the extent of writing
on a slip of paper, "Good-morning! Thank
you I've slept very well," putting the
slip in the doll's jointed arms, and leaving
it in a sitting posture outside his door when
he left his room. When he returned late
at night it was gone.
But it so chanced that, a few days later,
owing to press of work on the "Informer,"
he was obliged to forego his usual Sunday
holiday out of town, and that morning
UNDER THE EAVES 145
found him, while the bells were ringing for
church, in his room with a pile of manu-
script and proof before him. For these
were troublous days in San Francisco; the
great Vigilance Committee of '56 was in
session, and the offices of the daily papers
were thronged with eager seekers of news.
Such affairs, indeed, were not in the func-
tions of the assistant editor, nor exactly to
his taste ; he was neither a partisan of the
so-called Law and Order Party, nor yet an
enthusiastic admirer of the citizen Revolu-
tionists known as the Vigilance Committee,
both extremes being incompatible with his
habits of thought. Consequently he was
not displeased at this opportunity of doing
his work away from the office and the
"heady talk" of controversy.
He worked on until the bells ceased and
a more than Sabbath stillness fell upon the
streets. So quiet was it that once or twice
the conversation of passing pedestrians
floated up and into his window, as of voices
at his elbow.
Presently he heard the sound of a child's
voice singing in subdued tone, as if fearful
of being overheard. This time he laid aside
his pen it certainly was no delusion!
146 UNDER THE EAVES
The sound did not come from the open win-
dow, but from some space on a level with
his room. Yet there was no contiguous
building as high.
He rose and tried to open his door softly,
but it creaked, and the singing instantly
ceased. There was nothing before him but
the bare, empty hall, with its lathed and
plastered partitions, and the two smaller
rooms, unfinished like his own, on either
side of him. Their doors were shut; the
one at his right hand was locked, the other
yielded to his touch.
For the first moment he saw only the
bare walls of the apparently empty room.
But a second glance showed him two chil-
dren a boy of seven and a girl of five
sitting on the floor, which was further lit-
tered by a mattress, pillow, and blanket.
There was a cheap tray on one of the trunks
containing two soiled plates and cups and
fragments of a meal. But there was nei-
ther a chair nor table nor any other article
of furniture in the room. Yet he was struck
by the fact that, in spite of this poverty of
surrounding, the children were decently
dressed, and the few scattered pieces of lug-
gage in quality bespoke a superior condition.
UNDER THE EAVES 147
The children met his astonished stare
with an equal wonder and, he fancied, some
little fright. The boy's lips trembled a
little as he said apologetically
"I told Jinny not to sing. But she did
n't make much noise."
"Mamma said I could play with my
dolly. But I fordot and singed," said the
little girl penitently.
"Where's your mamma?" asked the
young man. The fancy of their being near
relatives of the night watchman had van-
ished at the sound of their voices.
"Dorn out," said the girl.
"When did she go out?"
"Last night."
"Were you all alone here last night?"
"Yes!"
Perhaps they saw the look of indignation
and pity in the editor's face, for the boy
said quickly
"She don't go out every night; last night
she went to "
He stopped suddenly, and both children
looked at each other with a half laugh and
half cry, and then repeated in hopeless
unison, "She 's dorn out."
" When is she coming back again ? "
148 UNDER THE EAVES
"To-night. But we won't make any
more noise."
"Who brings you your food?" continued
the editor, looking at the tray.
"Woberts."
Evidently Roberts, the night watchman!
The editor felt relieved; here was a clue to
some explanation. He instantly sat down
on the floor between them.
"So that was the dolly that slept in my
bed," he said gayly, taking it up.
God gives helplessness a wonderful intui-
tion of its friends. The children looked up
at the face of their grown-up companion,
giggled, and then burst into a shrill fit of
laughter. He felt that it was the first one
they had really indulged in for many days.
Nevertheless he said, "Hush!" confiden-
tially; why he scarcely knew, except to in-
timate to them that he had taken in their
situation thoroughly. "Make no noise," he
added softly, "and come into my big room."
They hung back, however, with fright-
ened yet longing eyes. "Mamma said we
mussent do out of this room," said the girl.
"Not alone," responded the editor
quickly, "but with me, you know; that's
different."
UNDER THE EAVES 149
The logic sufficed them, poor as it was.
Their hands slid quite naturally into his.
But at the door he stopped, and motioning
to the locked door of the other room,
asked :
"And is that mamma's room, too?"
Their little hands slipped from his and
they were silent. Presently the boy, as if
acted upon by some occult influence of the
girl, said in a half whisper, "Yes."
The editor did not question further, but
led them into his room. Here they lost the
slight restraint they had shown, and began,
child fashion, to become questioners them-
selves.
In a few moments they were in possession
of his name, his business, the kind of res-
taurant he frequented, where he went when
he left his room all day, the meaning of
those funny slips of paper, and the writ-
ten manuscripts, and why he was so quiet.
But any attempt of his to retaliate by
counter questions was met by a sudden re-
serve so unchildlike and painful to him
as it was evidently to themselves that he
desisted, wisely postponing his inquiries
until he could meet Roberts.
He was glad when they fell to playing
150 UNDER THE EAVES
games with each other quite naturally, yet
not entirely forgetting his propinquity, as
their occasional furtive glances at his move-
ments showed him. He, too, became pre-
sently absorbed in his work, until it was
finished and it was time for him to take it
to the office of the "Informer." The wild
idea seized him of also taking the children
afterwards for a holiday to the Mission
Dolores, but he prudently remembered that
even this negligent mother of theirs might
have some rights over her offspring that he
was bound to respect.
He took leave of them gayly, suggesting
that the doll be replaced in his bed while
he was away, and even assisted in "tucking
it up." But during the afternoon the recol-
lection of these lonely playfellows in the
deserted house obtruded itself upon his work
and the talk of his companions. Sunday
night was his busiest night, and he could
not, therefore, hope to get away in time to
assure himself of their mother's return.
It was nearly two in the morning when
he returned to his room. He paused for
a moment on the threshold to listen for any
sound from the adjoining room. But all
was hushed.
UNDER THE EAVES 151
His intention of speaking to the night
watchman was, however, anticipated the
next morning by that guardian himself. A
tap upon his door while he was dressing
caused him to open it somewhat hurriedly
in the hope of finding one of the children
there, but he met only the embarrassed face
of Roberts. Inviting him into the room,
the editor continued dressing. Carefully
closing the door behind him, the man be-
gan, with evident hesitation,
"I oughter hev told ye suthin' afore,
Mr. Breeze ; but I kalkilated, so to speak,
that you would n't be bothered one way or
another, and so ye hadn't any call to know
that there was folks here "
"Oh, I see," interrupted Breeze cheer-
fully; "you 're speaking of the family next
door the landlord's new tenants."
"They ain't exactly that," said Roberts,
still with embarrassment. " The fact is
ye see the thing points this way: they
ain't no right to be here, and it 's as much
as my place is worth if it leaks out that
they are."
Mr. Breeze suspended his collar-button-
ing, and stared at Roberts.
"You see, sir, they 're mighty poor, and
152 UNDER THE EAVES
they 've nowhere else to go and I reck-
oned to take 'em in here for a spell and say
nothing about it."
"But the landlord would n't object,
surely? I'll speak to him myself," said
Breeze impulsively.
"Oh, no; don't! " said Roberts in alarm;
"he would n't like it. You see, Mr. Breeze,
it 's just this way: the mother, she 's a born
lady, and did my old woman a good turn in
old times when the family was rich; but
now she 's obliged just to support her-
self, you know to take up with what
she gets, and she acts in the bally in the
theatre, you see, and hez to come in late
o' nights. In them cheap boarding-houses,
you know, the folks looks down upon her for
that, and won't hev her, and in the cheap
hotels the men are you know a darned
sight wuss, and that 's how I took her
and her kids in here, where no one knows
'em."
"I see," nodded the editor sympatheti-
cally; "and very good it was of you, my
man."
Roberts looked still more confused, and
stammered with a forced laugh, "And
so I 'in just keeping her on here, unbe-
UNDER THE EAVES 153
knownst, until her husband gets" He
stopped suddenly.
"So she has a husband living, then?"
said Breeze in surprise.
"In the mines, yes in the mines!" re-
peated Roberts with a monotonous delibera-
tion quite distinct from his previous hesita-
tion, "and she's only waitin' until he gets
money enough to to take her away."
He stopped and breathed hard.
" But could n't you could n't we get
her some more furniture? There 's nothing
in that room, you know, not a chair or
table; and unless the other room is better
furnished "
"Eh? Oh, yes!" said Roberts quickly,
yet still with a certain embarrassment; "of
course that 's better furnished, and she 's
quite satisfied, and so are the kids, with
anything. And now, Mr. Breeze, I reckon
you '11 say nothin' o' this, and you '11 never
go back on me?"
"My dear Mr. Roberts," said the editor
gravely, "from this moment I am not only
blind, but deaf to the fact that anybody
occupies this floor but myself."
" I knew you was white all through, Mr.
Breeze," said the night watchman, grasping
154 UNDER THE EAVES
the young man's hand with a grip of iron,
"and I telled my wife so. I sez, ' Jest you
let me tell him everything' but she " He
stopped again and became confused.
"And she was quite right, I dare say,"
said Breeze, with a laugh; "and I do not
want to know anything. And that poor
woman must never know that I ever knew
anything, either. But you may tell your
wife that when the mother is away she can
bring the little ones in here whenever she
likes."
" Thank ye thank ye, sir ! and I '11
just run down and tell the old woman now,
and won't intrude upon your dressin' any
longer."
He grasped Breeze's hand again, went
out and closed the door behind him. It
might have been the editor's fancy, but he
thought there was a certain interval of
silence outside the door before the night
watchman's heavy tread was heard along
the hall again.
For several evenings after this Mr.
Breeze paid some attention to the ballet in
his usual round of the theatres. Although
he had never seen his fair neighbor, he had
a vague idea that he might recognize her
UNDER THE EAVES 155
through some likeness to her children. But
in vain. In the opulent charms of certain
nymphs, and in the angular austerities of
others, he failed equally to discern any of
those refinements which might have distin-
guished the "born lady " of Roberts's story,
or which he himself had seen in her chil-
dren.
These he did not meet again during the
week, as his duties kept him late at the
office; but from certain signs in his room
he knew that Mrs. Roberts had availed
herself of his invitation to bring them in
with her, and he regularly found "Jinny's"
doll tucked up in his bed at night, and he
as regularly disposed of it outside his door
in the morning, with a few sweets, like an
offering, tucked under its rigid arms.
But another circumstance touched him
more delicately; his room was arranged
with greater care than before, and with an
occasional exhibition of taste that certainly
had not distinguished Mrs. Roberts's pre-
vious ministrations. One evening on his
return he found a small bouquet of inex-
pensive flowers in a glass on his writing-
table. He loved flowers too well not to
detect that they were quite fresh, and could
156 UNDER THE EAVES
have been put there only an hour or two
before he arrived.
The next evening was Saturday, and, as
he usually left the office earlier on that day,
it occurred to him, as he walked home, that
it was about the time his fair neighbor
would be leaving the theatre, and that it
was possible he might meet her.
At the front door, however, he found
Roberts, who returned his greeting with a
certain awkwardness which struck him as
singular. When he reached the niche on
the landing he found his candle was gone,
but he proceeded on, groping his way up
the stairs, with an odd conviction that both
these incidents pointed to the fact that the
woman had just returned or was expected.
He had also a strange feeling which
may have been owing to the darkness
that some one was hidden on the landing
or on the stairs where he would pass. This
was further accented by a faint odor of
patchouli, as, with his hand on the rail, he
turned the corner of the third landing, and
he was convinced that if he had put out his
other hand it would have come in contact
with his mysterious neighbor. But a cer-
tain instinct of respect for her secret, which
UNDER THE EAVES 157
she was even now guarding in the darkness,
withheld him, and he passed on quickly to
his own floor.
Here it was lighter; the moon shot a
beam of silver across the passage from an
unshuttered window as he passed. He
reached his room door, entered, but instead
of lighting the gas and shutting the door,
stood with it half open, listening in the
darkness.
His suspicions were verified; there was
a slight rustling noise, and a figure which
had evidently followed him appeared at the
end of the passage. It was that of a woman
habited in a grayish dress and cloak of the
same color; but as she passed across the
band of moonlight he had a distinct view of
her anxious, worried face. It was a face
no longer young; it was worn with illness,
but still replete with a delicacy and faded
beauty so inconsistent with her avowed pro-
fession that he felt a sudden pang of pain
and doubt. The next moment she had
vanished in her room, leaving the same
faint perfume behind her. He closed his
door softly, lit the gas, and sat down in a
state of perplexity. That swift glimpse of
her face and figure had made her story
138 UNDER THE EAVES
improbable to the point of absurdity, or
possibly to the extreme of pathos !
It seemed incredible that a woman of that
quality should be forced to accept a voca-
tion at once so low, so distasteful, and so
unremunerative. With her evident ante-
cedents, had she no friends but this com-
mon Western night watchman of a bank?
Had Roberts deceived him? Was his whole
story a fabrication, and was there some
complicity between the two? What was
it? He knit his brows.
Mr. Breeze had that overpowering know-
ledge of the world which only comes with
the experience of twenty-five, and to this
he superadded the active imagination of a
newspaper man. A plot to rob the bank?
These mysterious absences, that luggage
which he doubted not was empty and in-
tended for spoil ! But why encumber her-
self with the two children? Here his com-
mon sense and instinct of the ludicrous
returned and he smiled.
But he could not believe in the ballet
dancer! He wondered, indeed, how any
manager could have accepted the grim satire
of that pale, worried face among the fairies,
that sad refinement amid their vacant smiles
UNDER THE EAVE.S 159
and rouged cheeks. And then, growing sad
again, he comforted himself with the reflec-
tion that at least the children were not
alone that night, and so went to sleep.
For some days he had no further meeting
with his neighbors. The disturbed state
of the city for the Vigilance Committee
were still in session obliged the daily
press to issue " extras, " and his work at the
office increased.
It was not until Sunday again that he
was able to be at home. Needless to say
that his solitary little companions were duly
installed there, while he sat at work with
his proofs on the table before him.
The stillness of the empty house was only
broken by the habitually subdued voices of
the children at their play, when suddenly
the harsh stroke of a distant bell came
through the open window. But it was no
Sabbath bell, and Mr. Breeze knew it. It
was the tocsin of the Vigilance Committee,
summoning the members to assemble at
their quarters for a capture, a trial, or an
execution of some wrongdoer. To him it
was equally a summons to the office to
distasteful news and excitement.
He threw his proofs aside in disgust, laid
UNDER THE EAVES
down his pen, seized his hat, and paused
a moment to look round for his playmates.
But they were gone! He went into the
hall, looked into the open door of their
room, but they were not there. He tried
the door of the second room, but it was
locked.
Satisfied that they had stolen downstairs
in their eagerness to know what the bell
meant, he hurried down also, met Roberts
in the passage, a singularly unusual cir-
cumstance at that hour, called to him to
look after the runaways, and hurried to his
office.
Here he found the staff collected, ex-
citedly discussing the news. One of the
Vigilance Committee prisoners, a notorious
bully and ruffian, detained as a criminal
and a witness, had committed suicide in his
cell. Fortunately this was all reportorial
work, and the services of Mr. Breeze were
not required. He hurried back, relieved,
to his room.
When he reached his landing, breath-
lessly, he heard the same quick rustle he
had heard that memorable evening, and
was quite satisfied that he saw a figure glide
swiftly out of the open door of his room.
UNDER THE EAVES 1C1
It was no doubt his neighbor, who had been
seeking her children, and as he heard their
voices as he passed, his uneasiness and sus-
picions were removed.
He sat down again to his scattered papers
and proofs, finished his work, and took it
to the office on his way to dinner. He re-
turned early, in the hope that he might
meet his neighbor again, and had quite
settled his mind that he was justified in
offering a civil "Good-evening" to her, in
spite of his previous respectful ignoring of
her presence. She must certainly have
become aware by this time of his attention
to her children and consideration for her-
self, and could not mistake his motives.
But he was disappointed, although he came
up softly; he found the floor in darkness
and silence on his return, and he had to be
content with lighting his gas and settling
down to work again.
A near church clock had struck ten when
he was startled by the sound of an unfamil-
iar and uncertain step in the hall, followed
by a tap at his door. Breeze jumped to his
feet, and was astonished to find Dick, the
"printer's devil," standing on the threshold
with a roll of proofs in his hand.
162 UNDER TEE EAVES
"How did you get here?" he asked tes-
tily.
"They told me at the restaurant they
reckoned you lived yere, and the night
watchman at the door headed me straight
up. When he knew whar I kem from he
wanted to know what the news was, but I
told him he 'd better buy an extra and
see."
"Well, what did you come for?" said
the editor impatiently.
"The foreman said it was important, and
he wanted to know afore he went to press
ef this yer correction was yours ? "
He went to the table, unrolled the proofs,
and, taking out the slip, pointed to a
marked paragraph. "The foreman says
the reporter who brought the news allows
he got it straight first-hand ! But ef you 've
corrected it, he reckons you know best."
Breeze saw at a glance that the para-
graph alluded to was not of his own writ-
ing, but one of several news items furnished
by reporters. These had been "set up"
in the same "galley," and consequently
appeared in the same proof -slip. He was
about to say curtly that neither the matter
nor the correction was his, when something
UNDER THE EAVES 163
odd in the correction of the item struck
him. It read as follows :
" It appears that the notorious ' Jim
Bodine, ' who is in hiding and badly wanted
by the Vigilance Committee, has been
tempted lately into a renewal of his old
recklessness. He was seen in Sacramento
Street the other night by two separate wit-
nesses, one of whom followed him, but he
escaped in some friendly doorway."
The words "in Sacramento Street" were
stricken out and replaced by the correction
"on the Saucelito shore," and the words
"friendly doorway " were changed to
"friendly dinghy." The correction was not
his, nor the handwriting, which was further
disguised by being an imitation of print.
A strange idea seized him.
"Has any one seen these proofs since I
left them at the office?"
"No, only the foreman, sir."
He remembered that he had left the
proofs lying openly on his table when he
was called to the office at the stroke of the
alarm bell; he remembered the figure he
saw gliding from his room on his return.
She had been there alone with the proofs ;
she only could have tampered with them.
164 UNDER THE EAVES
The evident object of the correction was
to direct the public attention from Sacra-
mento Street to Saucelito, as the probable
whereabouts of this "Jimmy Bodine." The
street below was Sacramento Street, the
"friendly doorway" might have been their
own.
That she had some knowledge of this
Bodine was not more improbable than the
ballet story. Her strange absences, the
mystery surrounding her, all seemed to
testify that she had some connection per-
haps only an innocent one with these de-
sperate people whom the Vigilance Commit-
tee were hunting down. Her attempt to
save the man was, after all, no more illegal
than their attempt to capture him. True,
she might have trusted him, Breeze, with-
out this tampering with his papers; yet
perhaps she thought he was certain to dis-
cover it and it was only a silent appeal
to his mercy. The corrections were ingen-
ious and natural it was the act of an in-
telligent, quick-witted woman.
Mr. Breeze was prompt in acting upon
his intuition, whether right or wrong. He
took up his pen, wrote on the margin of
the proof, "Print as corrected," said to the
UNDER THE EAVES 165
boy carelessly, "The corrections are all
right," and dismissed him quickly.
The corrected paragraph which appeared
in the "Informer " the next morning seemed
to attract little public attention, the greater
excitement being the suicide of the impris-
oned bully and the effect it might have
upon the prosecution of other suspected
parties, against whom the dead man had
been expected to bear witness.
Mr. Breeze was unable to obtain any in-
formation regarding the desperado Bodine's
associates and relations; his correction of
the paragraph had made the other members
of the staff believe he had secret and supe-
rior information regarding the fugitive, and
he thus was estopped from asking questions.
But he felt himself justified now in demand-
ing fuller information from Roberts at the
earliest opportunity.
For this purpose he came home earlier
that night, hoping to find the night watch-
man still on his first beat in the lower halls.
But he was disappointed. He was amazed,
however, on reaching his own landing, to
find the passage piled with new luggage,
some of that ruder type of rolled blanket
and knapsack known as a "miner's kit."
166 UNDER THE EAVES
He was still more surprised to hear men's
voices and the sound of laughter proceeding
from the room that was always locked. A
sudden sense of uneasiness and disgust, he
knew not why, came over him.
He passed quickly into his room, shut
the door sharply, and lit the gas. But he
presently heard the door of the locked room
open, a man's voice, slightly elevated by
liquor and opposition, saying, "I know
what 's due from one gen'leman to 'nother "
a querulous, objecting voice saying,
"Hole on! not now," and a fainter femi-
nine protest, all of which were followed by
a rap on his door.
Breeze opened it to two strangers, one
of whom lurched forward unsteadily with
outstretched hand. He had a handsome
face and figure, and a certain consciousness
of it even in the abandon of liquor; he had
an aggressive treacherousness of eye which
his potations had not subdued. He grasped
Breeze's hand tightly, but dropped it the
next moment perfunctorily as he glanced
round the room.
"I told them I was bound to come in,"
he said, without looking at Breeze, "and
say ' Howdy ! ' to the man that 's bin a pal
UNDER THE EAVES 167
to my women folks and the kids and
acted white all through! I said to Mame,
' I reckon he knows who / am, and that I
kin be high-toned to them that 's high-
toned; kin return shake for shake and shot
for shot!' Aye! that's me! So I was
bound to come in like a gen'leman, sir, and
here I am ! "
He threw himself in an unproffered chair
and stared at Breeze.
"I'm afraid," said Breeze dryly, "that,
nevertheless, I never knew who you were,
and that even now I am ignorant whom I
am addressing."
"That 's just it," said the second man,
with a querulous protest, which did not,
however, conceal his admiring vassalage to
his friend; "that's what I'm allus telling
Jim. ' Jim,' I says, ' how is folks to know
you 're the man that shot Kernel Baxter,
and dropped three o' them Mariposa Vigi-
lants? They didn't see you do it! They
just look at your fancy style and them mus-
taches of yours, and allow ye might be
death on the girls, but they don't know ye!
An' this man yere he 's a scribe in them
papers writes what the boss editor tells
him, and lives up yere on the roof, 'long-
168 UNDER THE EAVES
side yer wife and the children what 's he
knowin' about you ? ' Jim 's all right
enough," he continued, in easy confidence
to Breeze, "but he's too fresh 'bout him-
self."
Mr. James Bodine accepted this tribute
and criticism of his henchman with a com-
placent laugh, which was not, however,
without a certain contempt for the speaker
and the man spoken to. His bold, selfish
eyes wandered round the room as if in
search of some other amusement than his
companions offered.
"I reckon this is the room which that
hound of a landlord, Rakes, allowed he 'd
fix up for our poker club the club that
Dan Simmons and me got up, with a few
other sports. It was to be a slap-up affair,
right under the roof, where there was no
chance of the police raiding us. But the
cur weakened when the Vigilants started
out to make war on any game a gen'leman
might hev that wasn't in their gummy-bag,
salt pork trade. Well, it 's gettin' a long
time between drinks, gen'lemen, ain't it?"
He looked round him significantly.
Only the thought of the woman and her
children in the next room, and the shame
UNDER THE EAVES 169
that he believed she was enduring, enabled
Breeze to keep his temper or even a show
of civility.
"I 'm afraid," he said quietly, "that
you '11 find very little here to remind you
of the club not even the whiskey ; for I
use the room only as a bedroom, and as I
am a workingman, and come in late and
go out early, I have never found it avail-
able for hospitality, even to my intimate
friends. I am very glad, however, that
the little leisure I have had in it has enabled
me to make the floor less lonely for your
children."
Mr. Bodine got up with an affected yawn,
turned an embarrassed yet darkening eye
on Breeze, and lunged unsteadily to the
door. "And as I only happened in to do
the reg'lar thing between high-toned gen'le-
men, I reckon we kin say ' Quits. ' ' He
gave a coarse laugh, said "So long," nod-
ded, stumbled into the passage, and thence
into the other room.
His companion watched him pass out
with a relieved yet protecting air, and then,
closing the door softly, drew nearer to
Breeze, and said in husky confidence,
"Ye ain't seem' him at his best, mister!
170 UNDER THE EAVES
He 's bin drinkin' too much, and this yer
news has upset him."
"What news?" asked Breeze.
"This yer suicide o' Irish Jack! "
"Was he his friend?"
"Friend?" ejaculated the man, horrified
at the mere suggestion. "Not much!
Why, Irish Jack was the only man that
could hev hung Jim ! Now he 's dead, in
course the Vigilants ain't got no proof agin
Jim. Jim wants to face it out now an'
stay here, but his wife and me don't see it
noways! So we are taking advantage o'
the lull agin him to get him off down the
coast this very night. That 's why he 's
been off his head drinkin'. Ye see, when
a man has been for weeks hidin' part o'
the time in that room and part o' the time
on the wharf, where them Vigilants has
been watchin' every ship that left in order
to ketch him, he 's inclined to celebrate his
chance o' getting away "
"Part of the time in that room?" inter-
rupted Breeze quickly.
"Sartin! Don't ye see? He allus kem
in as you went out sale I and got away
before you kem back, his wife all the time
just a-hoverin' between the two places, and
UNDER THE EAVES 171
keeping watch for him. It was killin' to
her, you see, for she was n't brought up to
it, whiles Jim did n't keer had two revolv-
ers and kalkilated to kill a dozen Vigilants
afore he dropped. But that 's over now,
and when I 've got him safe on that
' plunger ' down at the wharf to-night, and
put him aboard the schooner that 's lying
off the Heads, he 's all right agin."
"And Roberts knew all this and was one
of his friends? " asked Breeze.
"Roberts knew it, and Roberts 's wife
used to be a kind of servant to Jim's wife
in the South, when she was a girl, but I
don't know ez Roberts is his friend ! "
"He certainly has shown himself one,"
said Breeze.
"Ye-e-s," said the stranger meditatively,
"ye-e-s." He stopped, opened the door
softly, and peeped out, and then closed it
again softly. "It's sing'lar, Mr. Breeze,"
he went on in a sudden yet embarrassed
burst of confidence, "that Jim thar a
man thet can shoot straight, and hez fre-
quent; a man thet knows every skin game
goin' that thet man Jim," very slowly,
" hez n't really got any friends 'cept
me and his wife."
172 UNDER THE EAVES
"Indeed?" said Mr. Breeze dryly.
"Sure! Why, you yourself didn't cot-
ton to him I could see thet."
Mr. Breeze felt himself redden slightly,
and looked curiously at the man. This
vulgar parasite, whom he had set down as
a worshiper of sham heroes, undoubtedly
did not look like an associate of Bodine's,
and had a certain seriousness that demanded
respect. As he looked closer into his wide,
round face, seamed with small-pox, he fan-
cied he saw even in its fatuous imbecility
something of that haunting devotion he had
seen on the refined features of the wife.
He said more gently,
"But one friend like you would seem to
be enough."
"I ain't what I uster be, Mr. Breeze,"
said the man meditatively, "and mebbe ye
don't know who I am. I 'm Abe Shuck-
ster, of Shuckster's Ranch one of the
biggest in Petalumy. I was a rich man
until a year ago, when Jim got inter trou-
ble. What with mortgages and interest,
payin' up Jim's friends and buying off some
ez was set agin him, thar ain't much left,
and when I 've settled that bill for the
schooner lying off the Heads there I reckon
UNDER THE EAVES 173
I 'm about played out. But I 've allus a
shanty at Petalumy, and mebbe when things
is froze over and Jim gets back you '11
come and see him for you ain't seen him
at his best."
"I suppose his wife and children go with
him?" said Breeze.
"No! He 's agin it, and wants them to
come later. But that 's all right, for you
see she kin go back to their own house at the
Mission, now that the Vigiiants are givin'
up shadderin' it. So long, Mr. Breeze!
We 're startin' afore daylight. Sorry you
didn't see Jim in condition."
He grasped Breeze's hand warmly and
slipped out of the door softly. For an in-
stant Mr. Breeze felt inclined to follow him
into the room and make a kinder adieu to
the pair, but the reflection that he might
embarrass the wife, who, it would seem,
had purposely avoided accompanying her
husband when he entered, withheld him.
And for the last few minutes he had been
doubtful if he had any right to pose as her
friend. Beside the devotion of the man
who had just left him, his own scant kind-
ness to her children seemed ridiculous.
He went to bed, but tossed uneasily until
174 UNDER THE EAVES
he fancied he heard stealthy footsteps out-
side his door and in the passage. Even
then he thought of getting up, dressing,
and going out to bid farewell to the fugi-
tives. But even while he was thinking of
it he fell asleep and did not wake until the
sun was shining in at his windows.
He sprang to his feet, threw on his dress-
ing-gown, and peered into the passage.
Everything was silent. He stepped outside
the light streamed into the hall from the
open doors and windows of both rooms
the floor was empty; not a trace of the
former occupants remained. He was turn-
ing back when his eye fell upon the battered
wooden doll set upright against his door-
jamb, holding stiffly in its jointed arms a
bit of paper folded like a note. Opening
it, he found a few lines written in pencil.
God bless you for your kindness to us,
and try to forgive me for touching your
papers. But I thought that you would de-
tect it, know why I did it, and then help
us, as you did ! Good -by !
MAMIE BODINE.
Mr. Breeze laid down the paper with a
UNDER THE EAVES 175
slight accession of color, as if its purport
had been ironical. How little had he done
compared to the devotion of this delicate
woman or the sacrifices of that rough
friend! How deserted looked this nest
under the eaves, which had so long borne
its burden of guilt, innocence, shame, and
suffering! For many days afterwards he
avoided it except at night, and even then
he often found himself lying awake to listen
to the lost voices of the children.
But one evening, a fortnight later, he
came upon Roberts in the hall. "Well,"
said Breeze, with abrupt directness, "did
he get away? "
Roberts started, uttered an oath which
it is possible the Recording Angel passed
to his credit, and said, "Yes, he got away
all right!"
"Why, hasn't his wife joined him?"
"No. Never, in this world, I reckon;
and if anywhere in the next, I don't want
to go there! " said Roberts furiously.
"Is he dead?"
" Dead ? That kind don't die ! "
"What do you mean? "
Roberts's lips writhed, and then, with
a strong effort, he said with deliberate dis-
176 UNDER THE EAVES
tinctness, "I mean that the hound went
off with another woman that was in
that schooner, and left that fool Shuck-
ster adrift in the plunger."
"And the wife and children? "
"Shuckster sold his shanty at Petaluma
to pay their passage to the States. Good-
night!"
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW
LIFE" IN SAN FRANCISCO
THE junior partner of the firm of Spar-
low & Kane, "Druggists and Apotheca-
ries, of San Francisco, was gazing medi-
tatively out of the corner of the window of
their little shop in Dupont Street. He
could see the dimly lit perspective of the
narrow thoroughfare fade off into the level
sand wastes of Market Street on the one
side, and plunge into the half-excavated
bulk of Telegraph Hill on the other. He
could see the glow and hear the rumble of
Montgomery Street the great central
avenue farther down the hill. Above the
housetops was spread the warm blanket of
sea-fog under which the city was regularly
laid to sleep every summer night to the cool
lullaby of the Northwest Trades. It was
already half -past eleven; footsteps on the
wooden pavement were getting rarer and
more remote ; the last cart had rumbled by ;
the shutters were up along the street; the
glare of his own red and blue jars was the
178 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
only beacon left to guide the wayfarers.
Ordinarily he would have been going home
at this hour, when his partner, who occu-
pied the surgery and a small bedroom at
the rear of the shop, always returned to
relieve him. That night, however, a pro-
fessional visit would detain the "Doctor"
until half -past twelve. There was still an
hour to wait. He felt drowsy ; the myste-
rious incense of the shop, that combined
essence of drugs, spice, scented soap, and
orris root which always reminded him of
the Arabian Nights was affecting him.
He yawned, and then, turning away, passed
behind the counter, took down a jar labeled
"Glycyrr. Glabra," selected a piece of
Spanish licorice, and meditatively sucked it.
Not receiving from it that diversion and
sustenance he apparently was seeking, he
also visited, in an equally familiar manner,
a jar marked "Jujubes," and returned ru-
minatingly to his previous position.
If I have not in this incident sufficiently
established the youthfulness of the junior
partner, I may add briefly that he was just
nineteen, that he had early joined the emi-
gration to California, and after one or two
previous light-hearted essays at other occu-
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 179
pations, for which he was singularly unfit-
ted, he had saved enough to embark on his
present venture, still less suited to his tem-
perament. In those adventurous days trades
and vocations were not always filled by
trained workmen; it was extremely prob-
able that the experienced chemist was al-
ready making his success as a gold-miner,
with a lawyer and a physician for his part-
ners, and Mr. Kane's inexperienced posi-
tion was by no means a novel one. A
slight knowledge of Latin as a written lan-
guage, an American schoolboy's acquaint-
ance with chemistry and natural philosophy,
were deemed sufficient by his partner, a
regular physician, for practical cooperation
in the vending of drugs and putting up of
prescriptions. He knew the difference be-
tween acids and alkalies and the peculiar
results which attended their incautious com-
bination. But he was excessively deliber-
ate, painstaking, and cautious. The legend
which adorned the desk at the counter,
"Physicians' prescriptions carefully pre-
pared," was more than usually true as re-
garded the adverb. There was no danger
of his poisoning anybody through haste or
carelessness, but it was possible that an
180 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
urgent "case" might have succumbed to
the disease while he was putting up the
remedy. Nor was his caution entirely pas-
sive. In those days the "heroic" practice
of medicine was in keeping with the abnor-
mal development of the country ; there were
"record" doses of calomel and quinine, and
he had once or twice incurred the fury of
local practitioners by sending back their
prescriptions with a modest query.
The far-off clatter of carriage wheels
presently arrested his attention; looking
down the street, he could see the lights of
a hackney carriage advancing towards him.
They had already flashed upon the open
crossing a block beyond before his vague
curiosity changed into an active instinctive
presentiment that they were coming to the
shop. He withdrew to a more becoming
and dignified position behind the counter
as the carriage drew up with a jerk before
the door.
The driver rolled from his box and opened
the carriage door to a woman whom he as-
sisted, between some hysterical exclamations
on her part and some equally incoherent
explanations of his own, into the shop.
Kane saw at a glance that both were under
HOW REUBEN ALLEN " SAW LIFE" 181
the influence of liquor, and one, the woman,
was disheveled and bleeding about the
head. Yet she was elegantly dressed and
evidently en fete, with one or two "tri-
color " knots and ribbons mingled with her
finery. Her golden hair, matted and dark-
ened with blood, had partly escaped from
her French bonnet and hung heavily over
her shoulders. The driver, who was sup-
porting her roughly, and with a familiarity
that was part of the incongruous spectacle,
was the first to speak.
"Madame le Blank! ye know! Got cut
about the head down at the fete at South
Park ! Tried to dance upon the table, and
rolled over on some champagne bottles.
See? Wants plastering up! "
" Ah brute ! Hog ! Nozzing of ze kine I
Why will you lie? I dance! Ze cowards,
fools, traitors zere upset ze table and I fall.
I am cut! Ah, my God, how I am cut! "
She stopped suddenly and lapsed heavily
against the counter. At which Kane hur-
ried around to support her into the surgery
with the one fixed idea in his bewildered
mind of getting her out of the shop, and,
suggestively, into the domain and under
the responsibility of his partner. The hack-
182 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
man, apparently relieved and washing his
hands of any further complicity in the
matter, nodded and smiled, and saying, "I
reckon I '11 wait outside, pardner," retreated
incontinently to his vehicle. To add to
Kane's half -ludicrous embarrassment the
fair patient herself slightly resisted his sup-
port, accused the hackrnan of "abandoning
her," and demanded if Kane knew "zee
reason of zees affair," yet she presently
lapsed again into the large reclining-chair
which he had wheeled forward, with open
mouth, half -shut eyes, and a strange Pier-
rette mask of face, combined of the pallor
of faintness and chalk, and the rouge of
paint and blood. At which Kane's cau-
tiousness again embarrassed him. A little
brandy from the bottle labeled "Vini
Galli" seemed to be indicated, but his in-
experience could not determine if her relax-
ation was from bloodlessness or the reacting
depression of alcohol. In this dilemma he
chose a medium course, with aromatic spir-
its of ammonia, and mixing a diluted quan-
tity in a measuring-glass, poured it between
her white lips. A start, a struggle, a cough
a volley of imprecatory French, and the
knocking of the glass from his hand fol-
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 183
lowed but she came to! He quickly
sponged her head of the half-coagulated
blood, and removed a few fragments of
glass from a long laceration of the scalp.
The shock of the cold water and the appear-
ance of the ensanguined basin frightened
her into a momentary passivity. But when
Kane found it necessary to cut her hair in
the region of the wound in order to apply
the adhesive plaster, she again endeavored
to rise and grasp the scissors.
"You '11 bleed to death if you 're not
quiet," said the young man with dogged
gravity.
Something in his manner impressed her
into silence again. He cut whole locks
away ruthlessly ; he was determined to draw
the edges of the wound together with the
strip of plaster and stop the bleeding if
he cropped the whole head. His excessive
caution for her physical condition did not
extend to her superficial adornment. Her
yellow tresses lay on the floor, her neck
and shoulders were saturated with water
from the sponge which he continually ap-
plied, until the heated strips of plaster had
closed the wound almost hermetically. She
whimpered, tears ran down her cheeks; but
184 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE'*
so long as it was not blood the young man
was satisfied.
In the midst of it he heard the shop door
open, and presently the sound of rapping
on the counter. Another customer!
Mr. Kane called out, "Wait a moment,"
and continued his ministrations. After a
pause the rapping recommenced. Kane
was just securing the last strip of plaster
and preserved a preoccupied silence. Then
the door flew open abruptly and a figure
appeared impatiently on the threshold. It
was that of a miner recently returned from
the gold diggings so recently that he evi-
dently had not had time to change his clothes
at his adjacent hotel, and stood there in his
high boots, duck trousers, and flannel shirt,
over which his coat was slung like a hussar's
jacket from his shoulder. Kane would have
uttered an indignant protest at the intru-
sion, had not the intruder himself as quickly
recoiled with an astonishment and contrition
that was beyond the effect of any reproval.
He literally gasped at the spectacle before
him. A handsomely dressed woman reclin-
ing in a chair; lace and jewelry and ribbons
depending from her saturated shoulders;
tresses of golden hair filling her lap and
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE 1 ' 185
lying on the floor; a pail of ruddy water
and a sponge at her feet, and a pale young
man bending over her head with a spirit
lamp and strips of yellow plaster!
'"Scuse me, pard! I was just dropping
in; don't you hurry! I kin wait," he
stammered, falling back, and then the door
closed abruptly behind him.
Kane gathered up the shorn locks, wiped
the face and neck of his patient with a clean
towel and his own handkerchief, threw her
gorgeous opera cloak over her shoulders,
and assisted her to rise. She did so, weakly
but obediently; she was evidently stunned
and cowed in some mysterious way by his
material attitude, perhaps, or her sudden
realization of her position; at least the
contrast between her aggressive entrance
into the shop and her subdued preparation
for her departure was so remarkable that it
affected even Kane's preoccupation.
"There," he said, slightly relaxing his
severe demeanor with an encouraging smile,
" I think this will do ; we ' ve stopped the
bleeding. It will probably smart a little as
the plaster sets closer. I can send my part-
ner, Dr. Sparlow, to you in the morning."
She looked at him curiously and with a
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
strange smile. "And zees Doctor Sparr-
low eez he like you, M'sieu?"
"He is older, and very well known,"
said the young man seriously. "I can
safely recommend him."
"Ah," she repeated, with a pensive smile
which made Kane think her quite pretty.
"Ah he ez older your Doctor Sparr-
low but you are strong, M'sieu."
"And," said Kane vaguely, "he will tell
you what to do."
"Ah," she repeated again softly, with
the same smile, "he will tell me what to do
if I shall not know myself. Dat ez good."
Kane had already wrapped her shorn
locks in a piece of spotless white paper and
tied it up with narrow white ribbon in the
dainty fashion dear to druggists' clerks.
As he handed it to her she felt in her
pocket and produced a handful of gold.
"What shall I pay for zees, M'sieu?"
Kane reddened a little solely because
of his slow arithmetical faculties. Adhe-
sive plaster was cheap he would like to
have charged proportionately for the exact
amount he had used; but the division was
beyond him! And he lacked the trader's
instinct.
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE' 1 187
"Twenty-five cents, I think," he hazarded
briefly.
She started, but smiled again. "Twenty-
five cents for all zees ze medicine, ze
strips for ze head, ze hair cut " she
glanced at the paper parcel he had given
her "it is only twenty-five cents? "
"That 'sail."
He selected from her outstretched palm,
with some difficulty, the exact amount, the
smallest coin it held. She again looked at
him curiously half confusedly and
moved slowly into the shop. The miner,
who was still there, retreated as before with
a gaspingly apologetic gesture even flat-
tening himself against the window to give
her sweeping silk flounces freer passage.
As she passed into the street with a " Merci,
M'sieu, good a'night," and the hackman
started from the vehicle to receive her, the
miner drew a long breath, and bringing his
fist down upon the counter, ejaculated,
"B'gosh! She's a stunner!"
Kane, a good deal relieved at her depar-
ture and the success of his ministration,
smiled benignly.
The stranger again stared after the re-
treating carriage, looked around the shop,
188 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
and even into the deserted surgery, and
approached the counter confidentially.
"Look yer, pardner. I kem straight from
St. Jo, Mizzorri, to Gold Hill whar I 've
got a claim and I reckon this is the first
time I ever struck San Francisker. I ain't
up to towny ways nohow, and I allow that
mebbe I 'm rather green. So we '11 let that
pass! Now look yer!" he added, lean-
ing over the counter with still deeper and
even mysterious confidence, "I suppose this
yer kind o' thing is the regular go here,
eh? nothin' new to you! in course no! But
to me, pard, it's just fetchin' me! Lifts
me clear outer my boots every time ! Why,
when I popped into that thar room, and
saw that lady all gold, furbelows, and
spangles at twelve o'clock at night, sit-
tin' in that cheer and you a-cuttin' her h'r
and swabbin' her head o' blood, and kinder
prospectin' for * indications,' so to speak,
and doin' it so kam and indifferent like, I
sez to myself, ' Rube, Rube,' sez I, ' this
yer 's life! city life! San Francisker life!
and b' gosh, you 've dropped into it! '
Now, pard, look yar! don't you answer,
ye know, ef it ain't square and above board
for me to know; I ain't askin' you to give
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 189
the show away, ye know, in the matter of
high-toned ladies like that, but " (very mys-
teriously, and sinking his voice to the lowest
confidential pitch, as he put his hand to
his ear as if to catch the hushed reply),
"what mout hev bin happening, pard?"
Considerably amused at the man's sim-
plicity, Kane replied good - humoredly, :
"Danced among some champagne bottles
on a table at a party, fell and got cut by
glass."
The stranger nodded his head slowly and
approvingly as he repeated with infinite de-
liberateness : "Danced on champagne bot-
tles, champagne! you said, pard? at a
pahty ! Yes ! " (musingly and approvingly).
"I reckon that 's about the gait they take.
She 'd do it."
"Is there anything I can do for you?
sorry to have kept you waiting," said Kane,
glancing at the clock.
"O me! Lord! ye needn't mind me.
Why, I should wait for anythin' o' the
like o' that, and be just proud to do it!
And ye see, I sorter helped myself while
you war busy."
"Helped yourself?" said Kane in aston-
ishment.
190 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
"Yes, outer that bottle." He pointed to
the ammonia bottle, which still stood on the
counter. "It seemed to be handy and pop-
ular."
"Man! you might have poisoned your-
self."
The stranger paused a moment at the
idea. "So I mout, I reckon," he said
musingly, "that 's so! pizined myself jest ez
you was lookin' arter that high-toned case,
and kinder bothered you! It 's like me! "
"I mean it required diluting; you ought
to have taken it in water," said Kane.
"I reckon! It did sorter h'ist me over
to the door for a little fresh air at first!
seemed rayther scaldy to the lips. But wot
of it that got thar," he put his hand gravely
to his stomach, "did me pow'ful good."
"What was the matter with you?" asked
Kane.
"Well, ye see, pard " (confidentially
again), "I reckon it's suthin' along o' my
heart. Times it gets to poundin' away like
a quartz stamp, and then it stops suddent
like, and kinder leaves me out too."
Kane looked at him more attentively.
He was a strong, powerfully built man with
a complexion that betrayed nothing more
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 191
serious than the effects of mining cookery.
It was evidently a common case of indiges-
tion.
"I don't say it would not have done you
some good if properly administered," he
replied. "If you like I '11 put up a diluted
quantity and directions? "
"That 's me, every time, pardner! " said
the stranger with an accent of relief.
"And look yer, don't you stop at that! Ye
just put me up some samples like of any-
thin' you think mout be likely to hit. I '11
go in for a fair show, and then meander in
every now and then, betwixt times, to let
you know. Ye don't mind my drifting in
here, do ye ? It 's about ez likely a place ez
I struck since I 've left the Sacramento boat,
and my hotel, just round the corner. Ye
just sample me a bit o' everythin' ; don't
mind the expense. I '11 take your word for
it. The way you a young fellow jest
stuck to your work in thar, cool and kam
as a woodpecker not minding how high-
toned she was nor the jewelery and span-
gles she had on jest got me! I sez to
myself, ' Rube,' sez I, ' whatever 's wrong
o' your insides, you jes stick to that feller
to set ye right. ' '
192 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
The junior partner's face reddened as he
turned to his shelves ostensibly for consul-
tation. Conscious of his inexperience, the
homely praise of even this ignorant man
was not ungrateful. He felt, too, that his
treatment of the Frenchwoman, though
successful, might not be considered remu-
nerative from a business point of view by
his partner. He accordingly acted upon
the suggestion of the stranger and put up
two or three specifics for dyspepsia. They
were received with grateful alacrity and the
casual display of considerable gold in the
stranger's pocket in the process of payment.
He was evidently a successful miner.
After bestowing the bottles carefully
about his person, he again leaned confiden-
tially towards Kane. "I reckon of course
you know this high-toned lady, being in
the way of seein' that kind o' folks. I sup-
pose you won't mind telling me, ez a stran-
ger. But " (he added hastily, with a depre-
catory wave of his hand), "perhaps ye
would."
Mr. Kane, in fact, had hesitated. He
knew vaguely and by report that Madame
le Blanc was the proprietress of a famous
restaurant, over which she had rooms where
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 193
private gambling was carried on to a great
extent. It was also alleged that she was
protected by a famous gambler and a some-
what notorious bully. Mr. Kane's caution
suggested that he had no right to expose
the reputation of his chance customer. He
was silent.
The stranger's face became intensely
sympathetic and apologetic. "I see!
not another word, pard ! It ain't the square
thing to be givin' her away, and I oughtn't
to hev asked. Well so long ! I reckon
I '11 jest drift back to the hotel. I ain't
been in San Francisker mor' 'n three hours,
and I calkilate, pard, that I 've jest seen
about ez square a sample of high-toned life
as fellers ez haz bin here a year. Well,
hastermanyanner ez the Greasers say.
I '11 be droppin' in to-morrow. My name 's
Reuben Allen o' Mariposa. I know yours;
it 's on the sign, and it ain't Sparlow."
He cast another lingering glance around
the shop, as if loath to leave it, and then
slowly sauntered out of the door, pausing
in the street a moment, in the glare of the
red light, before he faded into darkness.
Without knowing exactly why, Kane had
an instinct that the stranger knew no one in
194 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
San Francisco, and after leaving the shop
was going into utter silence and obscurity.
A few moments later Dr. Spar low re-
turned to relieve his wearied partner. A
pushing, active man, he listened impatiently
to Kane's account of his youthful practice
with Madame le Blanc, without, however,
dwelling much on his methods. "You
ought to have charged her more," the elder
said decisively. " She 'd have paid it.
She only came here because she was ashamed
to go to a big shop in Montgomery Street
and she won't come again."
"But she wants you to see her to-mor-
row," urged Kane, "and I told her you
would!"
"You say it was only a superficial cut? "
queried the doctor, "and you closed it?
Uniph! what can she want to see me for? "
He paid more attention, however, to the
case of the stranger, Allen. "When he
comes here again, manage to let me see
him." Mr. Kane promised, yet for some
indefinable reason he went home that night
not quite as well satisfied with himself.
He was much more concerned the next
morning when, after relieving the doctor
for his regular morning visits, he was star-
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 195
tied an hour later by the abrupt return of
that gentleman. His face was marked by
some excitement and anxiety, which never-
theless struggled with that sense of the ludi-
crous which Californians in those days im-
ported into most situations of perplexity or
catastrophe. Putting his hands deeply into
his trousers pockets, he confronted his youth-
ful partner behind the counter.
"How much did you charge that French-
woman?" he said gravely.
"Twenty -five cents," said Kane timidly.
"Well, I'd give it back and add two
hundred and fifty dollars if she had never
entered the shop."
"What 's the matter?"
"Her head will be and a mass of it, in
a day, I reckon! Why, man, you put
enough plaster on it to clothe and paper
the dome of the Capitol! You drew her
scalp together so that she couldn't shut her
eyes without climbing up the bed -post!
You mowed her hair off so that she '11 have
to wear a wig for the next two years and
handed it to her in a beau-ti-ful sealed
package ! They talk of suing me and kill-
ing you out of hand."
"She was bleeding a great deal and
196 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
looked faint," said the junior partner; "I
thought I ought to stop that."
"And you did by thunder! Though
it might have been better business for the
shop if I 'd found her a crumbling ruin
here, than lathed and plastered in this fash-
ion, over there! However," he added, with
a laugh, seeing an angry light in his junior
partner's eye, "sAe don't seem to mind it
the cursing all comes from them. She
rather likes your style and praises it
that 's what gets me ! Did you talk to her
much," he added, looking critically at his
partner.
"I only told her to sit still or she 'd bleed
to death," said Kane curtly.
"Humph! she jabbered something
about your being l strong ' and knowing
just how to handle her. Well, it can't be
helped now. I think I came in time for
the worst of it and have drawn their fire.
Don't do it again. The next time a woman
with a cut head and long hair tackles you,
fill up her scalp with lint and tannin, and
pack her off to some of the big shops and
make them pick it out." And with a good-
humored nod he started off to finish his in-
terrupted visits.
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 197
With a vague sense of remorse, and yet
a consciousness of some injustice clone him,
Mr. Kane resumed his occupation with ni-
ters and funnels, and mortars and tritura-
tions. He was so gloomily preoccupied
that he did not, as usual, glance out of the
window, or he would have observed the
mining stranger of the previous night before
it. It was not until the man's bowed shoul-
ders blocked the light of the doorway that
he looked up and recognized him. Kane
was in no mood to welcome his appearance.
His presence, too, actively recalled the last
night's adventure of which he was a witness
albeit a sympathizing one. Kane shrank
from the illusions which he felt he would be
sure to make. And with his present ill
luck, he was by no means sure that his
ministrations even to him had been any
more successful than they had been to the
Frenchwoman. But a glance at his good-
humored face and kindling eyes removed
that suspicion. Nevertheless, he felt some-
what embarrassed and impatient, and per-
haps could not entirely conceal it. He for-
got that the rudest natures are sometimes
the most delicately sensitive to slights, and
the stranger had noticed his manner and
began apologetically.
198 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFL
"I allowed I'd just drop in anyway to
tell ye that these thar pills you giv' me did
me a heap o' good so far though mebbe
it 's only fair to give the others a show too,
which I 'm reckoning to do." He paused,
and then in a submissive confidence went
on : " But first I wanted to hev you excuse
me for havin' asked all them questions
about that high-toned lady last night, when
it warn't none of my business. I am a
darned fool."
Mr. Kane instantly saw that it was no
use to keep up his attitude of secrecy, or
impose upon the ignorant, simple man, and
said hurriedly : " Oh no. The lady is very
well known. She is the proprietress of a
restaurant down the street a house open
to everybody. Her name is Madame le
Blanc; you may have heard of her before? "
To his surprise the man exhibited no
diminution of interest nor change of senti-
ment at this intelligence. "Then," he said
slowly, "I reckon I might get to see her
again. Ye see, Mr. Kane, I rather took
a fancy to her general style and gait
arter seem' her in that fix last night. It
was rather like them play pictures on the
stage. Ye don't think she 'd make any
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 199
fuss to seein' a rough old ' forty-niner ' like
me?"
"Hardly," said Kane, "but there might
be some objection from her gentlemen
friends," he added, with a smile, "Jack
Lane, a gambler, who keeps a faro bank in
her rooms, and Jimmy O'Ryan, a prize-
fighter, who is one of her ' chuckers out. ' '
His further relation of Madame le Blanc's
entourage apparently gave the miner no
concern. He looked at Kane, nodded, and
repeated slowly and appreciatively: "Yes,
keeps a gamblin' and faro bank and a prize-
fighter I reckon that might be about her
gait and style too. And you say she
lives "
He stopped, for at this moment a man
entered the shop quickly, shut the door be-
hind him, and turned the key in the lock.
It was done so quickly that Kane instinc-
tively felt that the man had been loitering
in the vicinity and had approached from
the side street. A single glance at the in-
truder's face and figure showed him that
it was the bully of whom he had just
spoken. He had seen that square, brutal
face once before, confronting the police in
a riot, and had not forgotten it. But to-
200 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
day, with the flush of liquor on it, it had
an impatient awkwardness and confused
embarrassment that he could not account
for. He did not comprehend that the gen-
uine bully is seldom deliberate of attack,
and is obliged in common with many of
the combative lower animals to lash him-
self into a previous fury of provocation.
This probably saved him, as perhaps some
instinctive feeling that he was in no imme-
diate danger kept him cool. He remained
standing quietly behind the counter. Allen
glanced around carelessly, looking at the
shelves.
The silence of the two men apparently
increased the ruffian's rage and embarrass-
ment. Suddenly he leaped into the air
with a whoop and clumsily executed a negro
double shuffle on the floor, which jarred the
glasses yet was otherwise so singularly
ineffective and void of purpose that he
stopped in the midst of it and had to con-
tent himself with glaring at Kane.
"Well," said Kane quietly, "what does
all this mean? What do you want here? "
"What does it mean?" repeated the
bully, finding his voice in a high falsetto,
designed to imitate Kane's. "It means
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 201
I 'm going to play merry h 11 with this
shop! It means I 'm goin' to clean it out
and the blank hair-cuttin' blank that keeps
it. What do I want here ? Well what
I want I intend to help myself to, and all
h 11 can't stop me! And " (working him-
self to the striking point) "who the blank
are you to ask me?" He sprang towards
the counter, but at the same moment Allen
seemed to slip almost imperceptibly and
noiselessly between them, and Kane found
himself confronted only by the miner's
broad back.
"Hoi' yer hosses, stranger," said Allen
slowly, as the ruffian suddenly collided with
his impassive figure. "I'm a sick man
comin' in yer for medicine. I 've got some-
thin' wrong with my heart, and goin's on
like this yer kinder sets it to thumpin'."
"Blank you and your blank heart!"
screamed the bully, turning in a fury of
amazement and contempt at this impotent
interruption. " Who " but his voice
stopped. Allen's powerful right arm had
passed over his head and shoulders like a
steel hoop, and pinioned his elbows against
his sides. Held rigidly upright, he at-
tempted to kick, but Allen's right leg here
202 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
advanced, and firmly held his lower limbs
against the counter that shook to his strug-
gles and blasphemous outcries. Allen
turned quietly to Kane, and, with a gesture
of his unemployed arm, said confidentially :
"Would ye mind passing me down that
ar Romantic Spirits of Ammonyer ye gave
me last night?"
Kane caught the idea, and handed him
the bottle.
"Thar," said Allen, taking out the stop-
per and holding the pungent spirit against
the bully's dilated nostrils and vociferous
mouth, "thar, smell that, and taste it, it
will do ye good ; it was powerful kammin'
to me last night."
The ruffian gasped, coughed, choked, but
his blaspheming voice died away in a suffo-
cating hiccough.
"Thar," continued Allen, as his now sub-
dued captive relaxed his struggling, "ye V
better, and so am I. It 's quieter here now,
and ye ain't affectin' my heart so bad. A
little fresh air will make us both all right."
He turned again to Kane in his former sub-
dued confidential manner.
"Would ye mind openin' that door? "
Kane flew to the door, unlocked it, and
REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 203
held it wide open. The bully again began
to struggle, but a second inhalation of the
hartshorn quelled him, and enabled his
captor to drag him to the door. As they
emerged upon the sidewalk, the bully, with
a final desperate struggle, freed his arm and
grasped his pistol at his hip-pocket, but at
the same moment Allen deliberately caught
his hand, and with a powerful side throw
cast him on the pavement, retaining the
weapon in his own hand. "I 've one of my
own," he said to the prostrate man, "but
I reckon I '11 keep this yer too, until you 're
better."
The crowd that had collected quickly,
recognizing the notorious and discomfited
bully, were not of a class to offer him any
sympathy, and he slunk away followed by
their jeers. Allen returned quietly to the
shop. Kane was profuse in his thanks,
and yet oppressed with his simple friend's
fatuous admiration for a woman who could
keep such ruffians in her employ. "You
know who that man was, I suppose?" he
said.
"I reckon it was that 'er prize-fighter
belongin' to that high-toned lady," re-
turned Allen simply. "But he don't know
204 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
anything about rastlin\ b' gosh; only that
I was afraid o' bringin' on that heart trou-
ble, I mout hev hurt him bad."
"They think " hesitated Kane, "that
I was rough in my treatment of that
woman and maliciously cut off her hair.
This attack was revenge or " he hesi-
tated still more, as he remembered Dr.
Sparlow's indication of the woman's feeling
"or that bully's idea of revenge."
"I see," nodded Allen, opening his small
sympathetic eyes on Kane with an exasper-
ating air of secrecy "just jealousy."
Kane reddened in sheer hopelessness of
explanation. "No; it was earning his
wages, as he thought."
"Never ye mind, pard," said Allen con-
fidentially. "I'll set 'em both right. Ye
see, this sorter gives me a show to call at
that thar restaurant and give him back his
six-shooter, and set her on the right trail
for you. Why, Lordy! I was here when
you was fixin' her I'm testimony o' the
way you did it and she '11 remember me.
I '11 sorter waltz round thar this afternoon.
But I reckon I won't be keepin' you from
your work any longer. And look yar !
I say, pard! this is seein' life in 'Frisco
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 205
ain't it? Gosh! I've had more high
times in this very shop in two days, than
I 've had in two years of St. Jo. So long,
Mr. Kane! " He waved his hand, lounged
slowly out of the shop, gave a parting
glance up the street, passed the window, and
was gone.
The next day being a half-holiday for
Kane, he did not reach the shop until after-
noon. "Your mining friend Allen has been
here," said Doctor Sparlow. "I took the
liberty of introducing myself, and induced
him to let me carefully examine him. He
was a little shy, and I am sorry for it, as
I fear he has some serious organic trouble
with his heart and ought to have a more
thorough examination." Seeing Kane's
unaffected concern, he added, "You might
influence him to do so. He 'B a good fellow
and ought to take some care of himself.
By the way, he told me to tell you that
he 'd seen Madame le Blanc and made it
all right about you. He seems to be quite
infatuated with the woman."
"I 'm sorry he ever saw her," said Kane
bitterly.
"Well, his seeing her seems to have
saved the shop from being smashed up, and
206 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
you from getting a punched head," returned
the Doctor with a laugh. "He 's no fool
yet it 's a freak of human nature that a
simple hayseed like that a man who 's
lived in the backwoods all his life, is likely
to be the first to tumble before a pot of
French rouge like her."
Indeed, in a couple of weeks, there was
no further doubt of Mr. Reuben Allen's
infatuation. He dropped into the shop fre-
quently on his way to and from the restau-
rant, where he now regularly took his meals ;
he spent his evenings in gambling in its
private room. Yet Kane was by no means
sure that he was losing his money there un-
fairly, or that he was used as a pigeon by
the proprietress and her friends. The bully
O'Ryan was turned away; Sparlow grimly
suggested that Allen had simply taken his
place, but Kane ingeniously retorted that
the Doctor was only piqued because Allen
had evaded his professional treatment.
Certainly the patient had never consented
to another examination, although he repeat-
edly and gravely bought medicines, and was
a generous customer. Once or twice Kane
thought it his duty to caution Allen against
his new friends and enlighten him as to
HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 207
Madame le Blanc's reputation, but his sug-
gestions were received with a good-humored
submission that was either the effect of un-
belief or of perfect resignation to the fact,
and he desisted. One morning Dr. Spar-
low said cheerfully :
" Would you like to hear the last thing
about your friend and the Frenchwoman?
The boys can't account for her singling out
a fellow like that for her friend, so they say
that the night that she cut herself at the
fete and dropped in here for assistance, she
found nobody here but Allen a chance
customer ! That it was he who cut off her
hair and bound up her wounds in that sin-
cere fashion, and she believed he had saved
her life." The Doctor grinned maliciously
as he added: "And as that's the way his-
tory is written you see your reputation is
safe."
It may have been a month later that
San Francisco was thrown into a paroxysm
of horror and indignation over the assassi-
nation of a prominent citizen and official in
the gambling-rooms of Madame le Blanc,
at the hands of a notorious gambler. The
gambler had escaped, but in one of those
rare spasms of vengeful morality which
208 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
sometimes overtakes communities who have
too long winked at and suffered the exist-
ence of evil, the fair proprietress and her
whole entourage were arrested and haled
before the coroner's jury at the inquest.
The greatest excitement prevailed; it was
said that if the jury failed in their duty,
the Vigilance Committee had arranged for
the destruction of the establishment and
the deportation of its inmates. The crowd
that had collected around the building was
reinforced by Kane and Dr. Sparlow, wLi
had closed their shop in the next block to
attend. When Kane had fought his way
into the building and the temporary court,
held in the splendidly furnished gambling
saloon, whose gilded mirrors reflected the
eager faces of the crowd, the Chief of Police
was giving his testimony in a formal official
manner, impressive only for its relentless
and impassive revelation of the character
and antecedents of the proprietress, The
house had been long under the espionage of
the police; Madame le Blanc had a dozen
aliases; she was "wanted" in New Orleans,
in New York, in Havana! It was in her
house that Dyer, the bank clerk, committed
suicide; it was there that Colonel Hooley
HOW BEUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" 209
was set upon by her bully, O'Ryan; it was
she Kane heard with reddening cheeks
who defied the police with riotous conduct
at a. fete two months ago. As he coolly re-
cited the counts of this shameful indictment,
Kane looked eagerly around for Allen,
whom he knew had been arrested as a wit-
ness. How would he take this terrible dis-
closure? He was sitting with the others,
his arm thrown over the back of his chair,
and his good-humored face turned towards
the woman, in his old confidential attitude.
She, gorgeously dressed, painted, but un-
blushing, was cool, collected, and cynical.
The Coroner next called the only witness
of the actual tragedy, "Reuben Allen."
The man did not move nor change his posi-
tion. The summons was repeated ; a police-
man touched him on the shoulder. There
was a pause, and the officer announced:
"He has fainted, your Honor! "
"Is there a physician present?" asked
the Coroner.
Sparlow edged his way quickly to the
front. "I 'm a medical man," he said to
the Coroner, as he passed quickly to the
still, upright, immovable figure and knelt
beside it with his head upon his heart.
210 HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE"
There was an awed silence as, after a pause,
he rose slowly to his feet.
"The witness is a patient, your Honor,
whom I examined some weeks ago and
found suffering from valvular disease of
the heart. He is dead."
THREE VAGABONDS OF
TRINIDAD
"On! it 's you, is it?" said the Editor.
The Chinese boy to whom the colloquial-
ism was addressed answered literally, after
his habit :
"Allee same Li Tee; me no changee.
Me no ollee China boy."
"That 's so," said the Editor with an air
of conviction. "I don't suppose there 's
another imp like you in all Trinidad County.
Well, next time don't scratch outside there
like a gopher, but come in."
"Lass time," suggested Li Tee blandly,
"me tap tappee. You no like tap tappee.
You say, alle same dam woodpeckel."
It was quite true the highly sylvan
surroundings of the Trinidad "Sentinel"
office a little clearing in a pine forest
and its attendant fauna, made these signals
confusing. An accurate imitation of a
woodpecker was also one of Li Tee's accom-
plishments.
The Editor without replying finished the
212 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
note he was writing; at which Li Tee, as
if struck by some coincident recollection,
lifted up his long sleeve, which served him
as a pocket, and carelessly shook out a letter
on the table like a conjuring trick. The
Editor, with a reproachful glance at him,
opened it. It was only the ordinary request
of an agricultural subscriber one Johnson
that the Editor would "notice" a giant
radish grown by the subscriber and sent by
the bearer.
"Where's the radish, Li Tee?" said
the Editor suspiciously.
"No hab got. Ask Mellikan boy."
"What?"
Here Li Tee condescended to explain
that on passing the schoolhouse he had been
set upon by the schoolboys, and that in the
struggle the big radish being, like most
such monstrosities of the quick Californian
soil, merely a mass of organized water
was "mashed " over the head of some of his
assailants. The Editor, painfully aware of
these regular persecutions of his errand
boy, and perhaps realizing that a radish
which could not be used as a bludgeon was
not of a sustaining nature, forebore any
reproof. " But I cannot notice what I have
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 213
n't seen, Li Tee," he said good-humor-
edly.
"S'pose you lie allee same as John-
son," suggested Li with equal cheerfulness.
"He foolee you with lotten stuff you
foolee Mellikan man, allee same."
The Editor preserved a dignified silence
until he had addressed his letter. "Take
this to Mrs. Martin," he said, handing it
to the boy; "and mind you keep clear of
the schoolhouse. Don't go by the Flat
either if the men are at work, and don't,
if you value your skin, pass Flanigan's
shanty, where you set off those firecrackers
and nearly burnt him out the other day.
Look out for Barker's dog at the crossing,
and keep off the main road if the tunnel
men are coming over the hill." Then re-
membering that he had virtually closed all
the ordinary approaches to Mrs. Martin's
house, he added, "Better go round by the
woods, where you won't meet any one."
The boy darted off through the open
door, and the Editor stood for a moment
looking regretfully after him. He liked
his little protege ever since that unfortunate
child a waif from a Chinese wash-house
was impounded by some indignant miners
214 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
for bringing home a highly imperfect and
insufficient washing, and kept as hostage
for a more proper return of the garments.
Unfortunately, another gang of miners,
equally aggrieved, had at the same time
looted the wash-house and driven off the
occupants, so that Li Tee remained un-
claimed. For a few weeks he became a
sporting appendage of the miners' camp;
the stolid butt of good-humored practical
jokes, the victim alternately of careless in-
difference or of extravagant generosity.
He received kicks and half-dollars intermit-
tently, and pocketed both with stoical forti-
tude. But under this treatment he pre-
sently lost the docility and frugality which
was part of his inheritance, and began to
put his small wits against his tormentors,
until they grew tired of their own mischief
and his. But they knew not what to do
with him. His pretty nankeen -yellow skin
debarred him from the white "public
school," while, although as a heathen he
might have reasonably claimed attention
from the Sabbath-school, the parents who
cheerfully gave their contributions to the
heathen abroad, objected to him as a com-
panion of their children in the church at
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 215
home. At this juncture the Editor offered
to take him into his printing office as a
"devil." For a while he seemed to be en-
deavoring, in his old literal way, to act up
to that title. He inked everything but the
press. He scratched Chinese characters of
an abusive import on "leads," printed them,
and stuck them about the office; he put
"punk" in the foreman's pipe, and had
been seen to swallow small type merely as
a diabolical recreation. As a messenger
he was fleet of foot, but uncertain of deliv-
ery. Some time previously the Editor had
enlisted the sympathies of Mrs. Martin, the
good-natured wife of a farmer, to take him
in her household on trial, but on the third
day Li Tee had run away. Yet the Editor
had not despaired, and it was to urge her
to a second attempt that he dispatched that
letter.
He was still gazing abstractedly into the
depths of the wood when he was conscious
of a slight movement but no sound in
a clump of hazel near him, and a stealthy
figure glided from it. He at once recog-
nized it as "Jim," a well-known drunken
Indian vagrant of the settlement tied to
its civilization by the single link of "fire
216 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
water," for which he forsook equally the
Reservation where it was forbidden and his
own camps where it was unknown. Uncon-
scious of his silent observer, he dropped
upon all fours, with his ear and nose alter-
nately to the ground like some tracking
animal. Then having satisfied himself, he
rose, and bending forward in a dogged trot,
made a straight line for the woods. He
was followed a few seconds later by his dog
a slinking, rough, wolf -like brute, whose
superior instinct, however, made him detect
the silent presence of some alien humanity
in the person of the Editor, and to recog-
nize it with a yelp of habit, anticipatory of
the stone that he knew was always thrown
at him.
"That's cute," said a voice, "but it's
just what I expected all along."
The Editor turned quickly. His fore-
man was standing behind him, and had evi-
dently noticed the whole incident.
"It's what I allus said," continued the
man. "That boy and that In j in are thick
as thieves. Ye can't see one without the
other and they've got their little tricks
and signals by which they follow each other.
T' other day when you was kalkilatin' Li
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 217
Tee was doin' your errands I tracked him
out on the marsh, just by followin' that
ornery, pizenous dog o' Jim's. There was
the whole caboodle of 'em including Jim
campin' out, and eatin' raw fish that
Jim had ketched, and green stuff they had
both sneaked outer Johnson's garden. Mrs.
Martin may take him, but she won't keep
him long while Jim 's round. What makes
Li f oiler that blamed old Injin soaker, and
what makes Jim, who, at least, is a 'Meri-
can, take up with a furrin' heathen, just
gets me."
The Editor did not reply. He had heard
something of this before. Yet, after all,
why should not these equal outcasts of civi-
lization cling together!
Li Tee's stay with Mrs. Martin was
brief. His departure was hastened by an
untoward event apparently ushered in, as
in the case of other great calamities, by a
mysterious portent in the sky. One morn-
ing an extraordinary bird of enormous di-
mensions was seen approaching from the
horizon, and eventually began to hover over
the devoted town. Careful scrutiny of this
ominous fowl, however, revealed the fact
218 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
that it was a monstrous Chinese kite, in the
shape of a flying dragon. The spectacle
imparted considerable liveliness to the com-
munity, which, however, presently changed
to some concern and indignation. It ap-
peared that the kite was secretly constructed
by Li Tee in a secluded part of Mrs. Mar-
tin's clearing, but when it was first tried
by him he found that through some error
of design it required a tail of unusual pro-
portions. This he hurriedly supplied by
the first means he found Mrs. Martin's
clothes-line, with part of the weekly wash
depending from it. This fact was not at
first noticed by the ordinary sightseer, al-
though the tail seemed peculiar yet, per-
haps, not more peculiar than a dragon's tail
ought to be. But when the actual theft
was discovered and reported through the
town, a vivacious interest was created, and
spy -glasses were used to identify the various
articles of apparel still hanging on that
ravished clothes-line. These garments, in
the course of their slow disengagement from
the clothes-pins through the gyrations of the
kite, impartially distributed themselves over
the town one of Mrs. Martin's stockings
falling upon the veranda of the Polka Saloon,
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 219
and the other being afterwards discovered
on the belfry of the First Methodist Church
to the scandal of the congregation. It
would have been well if the result of Li
Tee's invention had ended here. Alas! the
kite-flyer and his accomplice, "Injin Jim,"
were tracked by means of the kite's tell-tale
cord to a lonely part of the marsh and rudely
dispossessed of their charge by Deacon Horn-
blower and a constable. Unfortunately,
the captors overlooked the fact that the
kite-flyers had taken the precaution of mak-
ing a "half -turn" of the stout cord around
a log to ease the tremendous pull of the kite
whose power the captors had not reckoned
upon and the Deacon incautiously substi-
tuted his own body for the log. A singu-
lar spectacle is said to have then presented
itself to the on-lookers. The Deacon was
seen to be running wildly by leaps and
bounds over the marsh after the kite, closely
followed by the constable in equally wild
efforts to restrain him by tugging at the
end of the line. The extraordinary race
continued to the town until the constable
fell, losing his hold of the line. This
seemed to impart a singular specific levity
to the Deacon, who, to the astonishment of
220 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
everybody, incontinently sailed up into a
tree! When he was succored and cut down
from the demoniac kite, he was found to
have sustained a dislocation of the shoulder,
and the constable was severely shaken. By
that one infelicitous stroke the two outcasts
made an enemy of the Law and the Gospel
as represented in Trinidad County. It is
to be feared also that the ordinary emotional
instinct of a frontier community, to which
they were now simply abandoned, was as
little to be trusted. In this dilemma they
disappeared from the town the next day
no one knew where. A pale blue smoke
rising from a lonely island in the bay for
some days afterwards suggested their pos-
sible refuge. But nobody greatly cared.
The sympathetic mediation of the Editor
was characteristically opposed by Mr. Par-
kin Skinner, a prominent citizen :
"It 's all very well for you to talk senti-
ment about niggers, Chinamen, and Injins,
and you fellers can laugh about the Deacon
being snatched up to heaven like Elijah in
that blamed Chinese chariot of a kite but
I kin tell you, gentlemen, that this is a
white man's country! Yes, sir, you can't
get over it ! The nigger of every descrip-
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 221
tion yeller, brown, or black, call him
' Chinese,' ' Injin,' or ' Kanaka,' or what
you like hez to clar off of God's footstool
when the Anglo-Saxon gets started! It
stands to reason that they can't live along-
side o' printin' presses, M'Corniick's reap-
ers, and the Bible! Yes, sir! the Bible;
and Deacon Hornblower kin prove it to
you. It 's our manifest destiny to clar
them out that 's what we was put here
for and it 's just the work we 've got to
do!"
I have ventured to quote Mr. Skinner's
stirring remarks to show that probably Jim
and Li Tee ran away only in anticipation
of a possible lynching, and to prove that
advanced sentiments of this high and en-
nobling nature really obtained forty years
ago in an ordinary American frontier town
which did not then dream of Expansion and
Empire !
Howbeit, Mr. Skinner did not make al-
lowance for mere human nature. One
morning Master Bob Skinner, his son, aged
twelve, evaded the schoolhouse, and started
in an old Indian "dug-out" to invade the
island of the miserable refugees. His pur-
pose was not clearly defined to himself, but
222 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
was to be modified by circumstances. He
would either capture Li Tee and Jim, or
join them in their lawless existence. He
had prepared himself for either event by
surreptitiously borrowing his father's gun.
He also carried victuals, having heard that
Jim ate grasshoppers and Li Tee rats, and
misdoubting his own capacity for either
diet. He paddled slowly, well in shore, to
be secure from observation at home, and
then struck out boldly in his leaky canoe
for the island a tufted, tussocky shred
of the marshy promontory torn off in some
tidal storm. It was a lovely day, the bay
being barely ruffled by the afternoon
"trades;" but as he neared the island he
came upon the swell from the bar and the
thunders of the distant Pacific, and grew
a little frightened. The canoe, losing way,
fell into the trough of the swell, shipping
salt water, still more alarming to the prairie-
bred boy. Forgetting his plan of a stealthy
invasion, he shouted lustily as the helpless
and water-logged boat began to drift past
the island ; at which a lithe figure emerged
from the reeds, threw off a tattered blanket,
and slipped noiselessly, like some animal,
into the water. It was Jim, who, half
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 223
wading, half swimming, brought the canoe
and boy ashore. Master Skinner at once
gave up the idea of invasion, and concluded
to join the refugees.
This was easy in his defenceless state,
and his manifest delight in their rude en-
campment and gypsy life, although he had
been one of Li Tee's oppressors in the past.
But that stolid pagan had a philosophical
indifference which might have passed for
Christian forgiveness, and Jim's native
reticence seemed like assent. And, possi-
bly, in the minds of these two vagabonds
there might have been a natural sympathy
for this other truant from civilization, and
some delicate flattery in the fact that Mas-
ter Skinner was not driven out, but came
of his own accord. Howbeit, they fished
together, gathered cranberries on the marsh,
shot a wild duck and two plovers, and when
Master Skinner assisted in the cooking of
their fish in a conical basket sunk in the
ground, filled with water, heated by rolling
red-hot stones from their drift-wood fire
into the buried basket, the boy's felicity
was supreme. And what an afternoon!
To lie, after this feast, on their bellies in
the grass, replete like animals, hidden from
224 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
everything but the sunshine above them ; so
quiet that gray clouds of sandpipers settled
fearlessly around them, and a shining brown
muskrat slipped from the ooze within a few
feet of their faces was to feel themselves
a part of the wild life in earth and sky.
Not that their own predatory instincts were
hushed by this divine peace; that intermit-
ting black spot upon the water, declared by
the Indian to be a seal, the stealthy glide
of a yellow fox in the ambush of a callow
brood of mallards, the momentary straying
of an elk from the upland upon the borders
of the marsh, awoke their tingling nerves
to the happy but fruitless chase. And
when night came, too soon, and they pigged
together around the warm ashes of their
camp-fire, under the low lodge poles of
their wigwam of dried mud, reeds, and
driftwood, with the combined odors of fish,
wood-smoke, and the warm salt breath of
the marsh in their nostrils, they slept con-
tentedly. The distant lights of the settle-
ment went out one by one, the stars came
out, very large and very silent, to take
their places. The barking of a dog on the
nearest point was followed by another far-
ther inland. But Jim's dog, curled at the
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 226
feet of his master, did not reply. What
had he to do with civilization ?
The morning brought some fear of conse-
quences to Master Skinner, but no abate-
ment of his resolve not to return. But
here he was oddly combated by Li Tee.
"S'pose you go back allee same. You
tellee f am 'lee canoe go topside down you
plentee swimee to bush. Allee night in
bush. Housee big way off how can get?
Sabe?"
"And I'll leave the gun, and tell Dad
that when the canoe upset the gun got
drowned," said the boy eagerly.
Li Tee nodded.
"And come again Saturday, and bring
more powder and shot and a bottle for
Jim," said Master Skinner excitedly.
"Good! " grunted the Indian.
Then they ferried the boy over to the
peninsula, and set him on a trail across the
marshes, known only to themselves, which
would bring him home. And when the
Editor the next morning chronicled among
his news, " Adrift on the Bay A School-
boy's Miraculous Escape," he knew as little
what part his missing Chinese errand boy
had taken in it as the rest of his readers.
226 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
Meantime the two outcasts returned to
their island camp. It may have occurred
to them that a little of the sunlight had
gone from it with Bob; for they were in
a dull, stupid way fascinated by the little
white tyrant who had broken bread with
them. He had been delightfully selfish
and frankly brutal to them, as only a
schoolboy could be, with the addition of the
consciousness of his superior race. Yet
they each longed for his return, although
he was seldom mentioned in their scanty
conversation carried on in monosyllables,
each in his own language, or with some
common English word, or more often re-
stricted solely to signs. By a delicate flat-
tery, when they did speak of him it was in
what they considered to be his own lan-
guage.
"Boston boy, plenty like catchee Aim,"
Jim would say, pointing to a distant swan.
Or Li Tee, hunting a striped water snake
from the reeds, would utter stolidly, "Meli-
kan boy no likee snake." Yet the next two
days brought some trouble and physical
discomfort to them. Bob had consumed,
or wasted, all their provisions and, still
more unfortunately, his righteous visit, his
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 227
gun, and his superabundant animal spirits
had frightened away the game, which their
habitual quiet and taciturnity had beguiled
into trustfulness. They were half starved,
but they did not blame him. It would
come all right when he returned. They
counted the days, Jim with secret notches
on the long pole, Li Tee with a string of
copper "cash" he always kept with him.
The eventful day came at last, a warm
autumn day, patched with inland fog like
blue smoke and smooth, tranquil, open sur-
faces of wood and sea ; but to their waiting,
confident eyes the boy came not out of either.
They kept a stolid silence all that day until
night fell, when Jim said, "Mebbe Boston
boy go dead." Li Tee nodded. It did not
seem possible to these two heathens that
anything else could prevent the Christian
child from keeping his word.
After that, by the aid of the canoe, they
went much on the marsh, hunting apart,
but often meeting on the trail which Bob
had taken, with grunts of mutual surprise.
These suppressed feelings, never made
known by word or gesture, at last must
have found vicarious outlet in the taciturn
dog, who so far forgot his usual discretion
228 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
as to once or twice seat himself on the
water's edge and indulge in a fit of howl-
ing. It had been a custom of Jim's on
certain days to retire to some secluded
place, where, folded in his blanket, with
his back against a tree, he remained motion-
less for hours. In the settlement this had
been usually referred to the after effects of
drink, known as the "horrors," but Jim
had explained it by saying it was "when
his heart was bad." And now it seemed,
by these gloomy abstractions, that "his
heart was bad " very often. And then the
long withheld rains came one night on the
wings of a fierce southwester, beating down
their frail lodge and scattering it abroad,
quenching their camp-fire, and rolling up
the bay until it invaded their reedy island
and hissed in their ears. It drove the game
from Jim's gun; it tore the net and scat-
tered the bait of Li Tee, the fisherman.
Cold and half starved in heart and body,
but more dogged and silent than ever, they
crept out in their canoe into the storm-
tossed bay, barely escaping with their mis-
erable lives to the marshy peninsula. Here,
on their enemy's ground, skulking in the
rushes, or lying close behind tussocks, they
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 229
at last reached the fringe of forest below
the settlement. Here, too, sorely pressed
by hunger, and doggedly reckless of conse-
quences, they forgot their caution, and a
flight of teal fell to Jim's gun on the very
outskirts of the settlement.
It was a fatal shot, whose echoes awoke
the forces of civilization against them. For
it was heard by a logger in his hut near the
marsh, who, looking out, had seen Jim
pass. A careless, good-natured frontiers-
man, he might have kept the outcasts' mere
presence to himself; but there was that
damning shot! An Indian with a gun!
That weapon, contraband of law, with dire
fines and penalties to whoso sold or gave it
to him ! A thing to be looked into some
one to be punished! An Indian with a
weapon that made him the equal of the
white! Who was safe? He hurried to
town to lay his information before the con-
stable, but, meeting Mr. Skinner, imparted
the news to him. The latter pooh-poohed
the constable, who he alleged had not yet
discovered the whereabouts of Jim, and
suggested that a few armed citizens should
make the chase themselves. The fact was
that Mr. Skinner, never quite satisfied in
230 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
his mind with his son's account of the loss of
the gun, had put two and two together, and
was by no means inclined to have his own
gun possibly identified by the legal author-
ity. Moreover, he went home and at once
attacked Master Bob with such vigor and
so highly colored a description of the crime
he had committed, and the penalties at-
tached to it, that Bob confessed. More
than that, I grieve to say that Bob lied.
The Indian had "stoled his gun," and
threatened his life if he divulged the theft.
He told how he was ruthlessly put ashore,
and compelled to take a trail only known to
them to reach his home. In two hours it
was reported throughout the settlement that
the infamous Jim had added robbery with
violence to his illegal possession of the
weapon. The secret of the island and the
trail over the marsh was told only to a few.
Meantime it had fared hard with the
fugitives. Their nearness to the settlement
prevented them from lighting a fire, which
might have revealed their hiding-place, and
they crept together, shivering all night in
a clump of hazel. Scared thence by passing
but unsuspecting wayfarers wandering off
the trail, they lay part of the next day and
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 231
night amid some tussocks of salt grass,
blown on by the cold sea-breeze; chilled,
but securely hidden from sight. Indeed,
thanks to some mysterious power they had
of utter immobility, it was wonderful how
they could efface themselves, through quiet
and the simplest environment. The lee
side of a straggling vine in the meadow, or
even the thin ridge of cast-up drift on the
shore, behind which they would lie for hours
motionless, was a sufficient barrier against
prying eyes. In this occupation they no
longer talked together, but followed each
other with the blind instinct of animals
yet always unerringly, as if conscious of
each other's plans. Strangely enough, it
was the real animal alone their nameless
dog who now betrayed impatience and a
certain human infirmity of temper. The
concealment they were resigned to, the suf-
ferings they mutely accepted, he alone re-
sented! When certain scents or sounds,
imperceptible to their senses, were blown
across their path, he would, with bristling
back, snarl himself into guttural and stran-
gulated fury. Yet, in their apathy, even
this would have passed them unnoticed, but
that on the second night he disappeared
232 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
suddenly, returning after two hours' ab-
sence with bloody jaws replete, but still
slinking and snappish. It was only in the
morning that, creeping on their hands and
knees through the stubble, they came upon
the torn and mangled carcass of a sheep.
The two men looked at each other without
speaking they knew what this act of
rapine meant to themselves. It meant a
fresh hue and cry after them it meant
that their starving companion had helped
to draw the net closer round them. The
Indian grunted, Li Tee smiled vacantly;
but with their knives and fingers they fin-
ished what the dog had begun, and became
equally culpable. But that they were hea-
thens, they could not have achieved a deli-
cate ethical responsibility in a more Chris-
tian-like way.
Yet the rice-fed Li Tee suffered most in
their privations. His habitual apathy in-
creased with a certain physical lethargy
which Jim could not understand. When
they were apart he sometimes found Li Tee
stretched on his back with an odd stare in
his eyes, and once, at a distance, he thought
he saw a vague thin vapor drift from where
the Chinese boy was lying and vanish as ho
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 233
approached. When he tried to arouse him
there was a weak drawl in his voice and a
drug-like odor in his breath. Jim dragged
him to a more substantial shelter, a thicket
of alder. It was dangerously near the fre-
quented road, but a vague idea had sprung
up in Jim's now troubled mind that, equal
vagabonds though they were, Li Tee had
more claims upon civilization, through those
of his own race who were permitted to live
among the white men, and were not hunted
to "reservations" and confined there like
Jim's people. If Li Tee was "heap sick,"
other Chinamen might find and nurse him.
As for Li Tee, he had lately said, in a
more lucid interval: "Me go dead allee
samee Mellikan boy. You go dead too
allee samee," and then lay down again with
a glassy stare in his eyes. Far from being
frightened at this, Jim attributed his con-
dition to some enchantment that Li Tee
had evoked from one of his gods just as
he himself had seen "medicine-men" of his
own tribe fall into strange trances, and was
glad that the boy no longer suffered. The
day advanced, and Li Tee still slept. Jim
could hear the church bells ringing; he
knew it was Sunday the day on which he
234 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
was hustled from the main street by the
constable; the day on which the shops were
closed, and the drinking saloons open only
at the back door. The day whereon no
man worked and for that reason, though
he knew it not, the day selected by the in-
genious Mr. Skinner and a few friends as
especially fitting and convenient for a chase
of the fugitives. The bell brought no sug-
gestion of this though the dog snapped
under his breath and stiffened his spine.
And then he heard another sound, far off
and vague, yet one that brought a flash into
his murky eye, that lit up the heaviness of
his Hebraic face, and even showed a slight
color in his high cheek-bones. He lay down
on the ground, and listened with suspended
breath. He heard it now distinctly. It
was the Boston boy calling, and the word
he was calling was "Jim."
Then the fire dropped out of his eyes as
he turned with his usual stolidity to where
Li Tee was lying. Him he shook, saying
briefly: "Boston boy come back!" But
there was no reply, the dead body rolled
over inertly under his hand ; the head fell
back, and the jaw dropped under the
pinched yellow face. The Indian gazed at
THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD 235
him slowly, and then gravely turned again
in the direction of the voice. Yet his dull
mind was perplexed, for, blended with that
voice were other sounds like the tread of
clumsily stealthy feet. But again the voice
called "Jim! " and raising his hands to his
lips he gave a low whoop in reply. This
was followed by silence, when suddenly he
heard the voice the boy's voice once
again, this time very near him, saying
eagerly :
"There he is!"
Then the Indian knew all. His face,
however, did not change as he took up his
gun, and a man stepped out of the thicket
into the trail :
"Drop that gun, you d d Injin."
The Indian did not move.
"Drop it, I say!"
The Indian remained erect and motion-
less.
A rifle shot broke from the thicket. At
first it seemed to have missed the Indian,
and the man who had spoken cocked his
own rifle. But the next moment the tall
figure of Jim collapsed where he stood into
a mere blanketed heap.
The man who had fired the shot walked
236 THREE VAGABONDS OF TRINIDAD
towards the heap with the easy air of a con-
queror. But suddenly there arose before
him an awful phantom, the incarnation of
savagery a creature of blazing eyeballs,
flashing tusks, and hot carnivorous breath.
He had barely time to cry out "A wolf! "
before its jaws met in his throat, and they
rolled together on the ground.
But it was no wolf as a second shot
proved only Jim's slinking dog; the only
one of the outcasts who at that supreme
moment had gone back to his original
nature.
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
MR. JACKSON POTTER halted before the
little cottage, half shop, half hostelry, op-
posite the great gates of Domesday Park,
where tickets of admission to that venerable
domain were sold. Here Mr. Potter re-
vealed his nationality as a Western Ameri-
can, not only in his accent, but in a certain
half-humorous, half-practical questioning
of the ticket-seller as that quasi-official
stamped his ticket which was neverthe-
less delivered with such unfailing good-
humor, and such frank suggestiveness of
the perfect equality of the ticket-seller and
the well-dressed stranger that, far from
producing any irritation, it attracted the
pleased attention not only of the official,
but his wife and daughter and a customer.
Possibly the good looks of the stranger had
something to do with it. Jackson Potter
was a singularly handsome young fellow,
with one of those ideal faces and figures
sometimes seen in Western frontier villages,
attributable to no ancestor, but evolved
238 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
possibly from novels and books devoured
by ancestresses in the long solitary winter
evenings of their lonely cabins on the fron-
tier. A beardless, classical head, covered
by short flocculent blonde curls, poised on
a shapely neck and shoulders, was more
Greek in outline than suggestive of any
ordinary American type. Finally, after
having thoroughly amused his small au-
dience, he lifted his straw hat to the "la-
dies," and lounged out across the road to
the gateway. Here he paused, consulting
his guide-book, and read aloud: "St. John's
Gateway. This massive structure, accord-
ing to Leland, was built in" murmured
"never mind when; we '11 pass St. John,"
marked the page with his pencil, and ten-
dering his ticket to the gate-keeper, heard,
with some satisfaction, that, as there were
no other visitors just then, and as the cice-
rone only accompanied parties, he would be
left to himself, and at once plunged into a
by-path.
It was that loveliest of rare creations
a hot summer day in England, with all the
dampness of that sea-blown isle wrung out
of it, exhaled in the quivering blue vault
overhead, or passing as dim wraiths in the
4 VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 239
distant wood, and all the long-matured
growth of that great old garden vivified
and made resplendent by the fervid sun.
The ashes of dead and gone harvests, even
the dust of those who had for ages wrought
in it, turned again and again through inces-
sant cultivation, seemed to move and live
once more in that present sunshine. All
color appeared to be deepened and mel-
lowed, until even the very shadows of the
trees were as velvety as the sward they fell
upon. The prairie-bred Potter, accustomed
to the youthful caprices and extravagances
of his own virgin soil, could not help feel-
ing the influence of the ripe restraints of
this.
As he glanced through the leaves across
green sunlit spaces to the ivy-clad ruins of
Domesday Abbey, which seemed itself a
growth of the very soil, he murmured to
himself: "Things had been made mighty
comfortable for folks here, you bet! " For-
gotten books he had read as a boy, scraps
of school histories, or rarer novels, came
back to him as he walked along, and peo-
pled the solitude about him with their
heroes.
Nevertheless, it was unmistakably hot
240 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
a heat homelike in its intensity, yet of a
different effect, throwing him into languid
reverie rather than filling his veins with
fire. Secure in his seclusion in the leafy
chase, he took off his jacket and rambled
on in his shirt sleeves. Through the open-
ing he presently saw the abbey again, with
the restored wing where the noble owner
lived for two or three weeks in the year,
but now given over to the prevailing soli-
tude. And then, issuing from the chase,
he came upon a broad, moss-grown terrace.
Before him stretched a tangled and luxu-
riant wilderness of shrubs and flowers,
darkened by cypress and cedars of Leb-
anon; its dim depths illuminated by daz-
zling white statues, vases, trellises, and
paved paths, choked and lost in the trailing
growths of years of abandonment and for-
getfulness. He consulted his guide-book
again. It was the "old Italian garden,"
constructed under the design of a famous
Italian gardener by the third duke ; but its
studied formality being, displeasing to his
successor, it was allowed to fall into pictur-
esque decay and negligent profusion, which
were not, however, disturbed by later de-
scendants, a fact deplored by the artistic
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 241
writer of the guide-book, who mournfully
called attention to the rare beauty of the
marble statues, urns, and fountains, ruined
by neglect, although one or two of the rarer
objects had been removed to Deep Dene
Lodge, another seat of the present duke.
It is needless to say that Mr. Potter con-
ceived at once a humorous opposition to the
artistic enthusiasm of the critic, and, plun-
ging into the garden, took a mischievous
delight in its wildness and the victorious
struggle of nature with the formality of art.
At every step through the tangled labyrinth
he could see where precision and order had
been invaded, and even the rigid masonry
broken or upheaved by the rebellious force.
Yet here and there the two powers had com-
bined to offer an example of beauty neither
could have effected alone. A passion vine
had overrun and enclasped a vase with a
perfect symmetry no sculptor could have
achieved. A heavy balustrade was made
ethereal with a delicate fretwork of vegeta-
tion between its balusters like lace. Here,
however, the lap and gurgle of water fell
gratefully upon the ear of the perspiring
and thirsty Mr. Potter, and turned his at-
tention to more material things. Following
242 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
the sound, he presently came upon an enor-
mous oblong marble basin containing three
time-worn fountains with grouped figures.
The pipes were empty, silent, and choked
with reeds and water plants, but the great
basin itself was filled with water from some
invisible source.
A terraced walk occupied one side of the
long parallelogram; at intervals and along
the opposite bank, half shadowed by wil-
lows, tinted marble figures of tritons, fauns,
and dryads arose half hidden in the reeds.
They were more or less mutilated by time,
and here and there only the empty, moss-
covered plinths that had once supported
them could be seen. But they were so life-
like in their subdued color in the shade that
he was for a moment startled.
The water looked deliciously cool. An
audacious thought struck him. He was
alone, and the place was a secluded one.
He knew there were no other visitors; the
marble basin was quite hidden from the rest
of the garden, and approached only from
the path by which he had'come, and whose
entire view he commanded. He quietly
and deliberately undressed himself under
the willows, and unhesitatingly plunged into
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 243
the basin. The water was four or five feet
deep, and its extreme length afforded an
excellent swimming bath, despite the water-
lilies and a few aquatic plants that mottled
its clear surface, or the sedge that clung to
the bases of the statues. He disported for
some moments in the delicious element, and
then seated himself upou one of the half-
submerged plinths, almost hidden by reeds,
that had once upheld a river god. Here,
lazily resting himself upon his elbow, half
his body still below the water, his quick ear
was suddenly startled by a rustling noise
and the sound of footsteps. For a moment
he was inclined to doubt his senses; he
could see only the empty path before him
and the deserted terrace. But the sound
became more distinct, and to his great un-
easiness appeared to come from the other
side of the fringe of willows, where there
was undoubtedly a path to the fountain
which he had overlooked. His clothes were
under those willows, but he was at least
twenty yards from the bank and an equal
distance from the terrace. He was about
to slip beneath the water when, to his
crowning horror, before he could do so, a
young girl slowly appeared from the hidden
244 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
willow path full upon the terrace. She was
walking leisurely with a parasol over her
head and a book in her hand. Even in his
intense consternation her whole figure a
charming one in its white dress, sailor hat,
and tan shoes was imprinted on his mem-
ory as she instinctively halted to look upon
the fountain, evidently an unexpected sur-
prise to her.
A sudden idea flashed upon him. She
was at least sixty yards away ; he was half
hidden in the reeds and well in the long
shadows of the willows. If he remained
perfectly motionless she might overlook him
at that distance, or take him for one of the
statues. He remembered also that as he
was resting on his elbow, his half -submerged
body lying on the plinth below water, he
was somewhat in the attitude of one of
the river gods. And there was no other
escape. If he dived he might not be able
to keep under water as long as she re-
mained, and any movement he knew would
betray him. He stiffened himself and
scarcely breathed. Luckily for him his
attitude had been a natural one and easy
to keep. It was well, too, for she was
evidently in no hurry and walked slowly,
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 245
stopping from time to time to admire the
basin and its figures. Suddenly he was in-
stinctively aware that she was looking to-
wards him and even changing her position,
moving her pretty head and shading her
eyes with her hand as if for a better view.
He remained motionless, scarcely daring to
breathe. Yet there was something so in-
nocently frank and undisturbed in her ob-
servation, that he knew as instinctively that
she suspected nothing, and took him for a
half-submerged statue. He breathed more
freely. But presently she stopped, glanced
around her, and, keeping her eyes fixed in
his direction, began to walk backwards
slowly until she reached a stone balustrade
behind her. On this she leaped, and, sit-
ting down, opened in her lap the sketch-
book she was carrying, and, taking out a
pencil, to his horror began to sketch !
For a wild moment he recurred to his
first idea of diving and swimming at all
hazards to the bank, but the conviction that
now his slightest movement must be de-
tected held him motionless. He must save
her the mortification of knowing she was
sketching a living man, if he died for it.
She sketched rapidly but fixedly and ab-
246 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
sorbedly, evidently forgetting all else in
her work. From time to time she held out
her sketch before her to compare it with
her subject. Yet the seconds seemed min-
utes and the minutes hours. Suddenly, to
his great relief, a distant voice was heard
calling "Lottie." It was a woman's voice;
by its accent it also seemed to him an
American one.
The young girl made a slight movement
of impatience, but did not look up, and her
pencil moved still more rapidly. Again
the voice called, this time nearer. The
young girl's pencil fairly flew over the
paper, as, still without looking up, she
lifted a pretty voice and answered back,
"Y-e-e-s!"
It struck him that her accent was also
that of a compatriot.
"Where on earth are you?" continued
the first voice, which now appeared to come
from the other side of the willows on the
path by which the young girl had ap-
proached. "Here, aunty," replied the girl,
closing her sketch-book with a snap and
starting to her feet.
A stout woman, fashionably dressed, made
her appearance from the willow path.
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 247
"What have you been doing all this
while? " she said querulously. "Not sketch-
ing, I hope," she added, with a suspicious
glance at the book. " You know your pro-
fessor expressly forbade you to do so in
your holidays."
The young girl shrugged her shoulders.
"I've been looking at the fountains," she
replied evasively.
"And horrid looking pagan things they
are, too," said the elder woman, turning
from them disgustedly, without vouchsafing
a second glance. "Come. If we expect
to do the abbey, we must hurry up, or we
won't catch the train. Your uncle is wait-
ing for us at the top of the garden."
And, to Potter's intense relief, she
grasped the young girl's arm and hurried
her away, their figures the next moment
vanishing in the tangled shrubbery.
Potter lost no time in plunging with his
cramped limbs into the water and regaining
the other side. Here he quickly half dried
himself with some sun-warmed leaves and
baked mosses, hurried on his clothes, and
hastened off in the opposite direction to the
path taken by them, yet with such circui-
tous skill and speed that he reached the
248 A VISION Or THE FOUNTAIN
great gateway without encountering any-
body. A brisk walk brought him to the
station in time to catch a stopping train,
and in half an hour he was speeding miles
away from Domesday Park and his half-
forgotten episode.
Meantime the two ladies continued on
their way to the abbey. "I don't see why
I mayn't sketch things I see about me,"
said the young lady impatiently. "Of
course, I understand that I must go through
the rudimentary drudgery of my art and
study from casts, and learn perspective, and
all that; but I can't see what 's the differ-
ence between working in a stuffy studio
over a hand or arm that I know is only a
study, and sketching a full or half length
in the open air with the wonderful illusion
of light and shade and distance and
grouping and combining them all that
one knows and feels makes a picture. The
real picture one makes is already in one's
self."
"For goodness' sake, Lottie, don't go on
again with your usual absurdities. Since
you are bent on being an artist, and your
Popper has consented and put you under
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 249
the most expensive master in Paris, the
least you can do is to follow the rules.
And I dare say he only wanted you to ' sink
the shop ' in company. It 's such horrid
bad form for you artistic people to be
always dragging out your sketch-books.
What would you say if your Popper came
over here, and began to examine every
lady's dress in society to see what material
it was, just because he was a big dry -goods
dealer in America?"
The young girl, accustomed to her aunt's
extravagances, made no reply. But that
night she consulted her sketch, and was so
far convinced of her own instincts, and the
profound impression the fountain had made
upon her, that she was enabled to secretly
finish her interrupted sketch from memory.
For Miss Charlotte Forrest was a born
artist, and in no mere caprice had persuaded
her father to let her adopt the profession,
and accepted the drudgery of a novitiate.
She looked earnestly upon this first real
work of her hand and found it good ! Still,
it was but a pencil sketch, and wanted the
vivification of color.
When she returned to Paris she began
still secretly a larger study in oils. She
250 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
worked upon it in her own room every mo-
ment she could spare from her studio prac-
tice, unknown to her professor. It ab-
sorbed her existence; she grew thin and
pale. When it was finished, and only then,
she showed it tremblingly to her master.
He stood silent, in profound astonishment.
The easel before him showed a foreground
of tangled luxuriance, from which stretched
a sheet of water like a darkened mirror,
while through parted reeds on its glossy
surface arose the half -submerged figure of
a river god, exquisite in contour, yet whose
delicate outlines were almost a vision by
the crowning illusion of light, shadow, and
atmosphere.
"It is a beautiful copy, mademoiselle,
and I forgive you breaking my rules," he
said, drawing a long breath. " But I can-
not now recall the original picture."
"It's no copy of a picture, professor,"
said the young girl timidly, and she dis-
closed her secret. "It was the only perfect
statue there," she added diffidently; "but
I think it wanted something."
"True," said the professor abstractedly.
" Where the elbow rests there should be a
half-inverted urn flowing with water; but
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 251
the drawing of that shoulder is so perfect
as is your study of it that one guesses
the missing forearm one cannot see, which
clasped it. Beautiful! beautiful!"
Suddenly he stopped, and turned his eyes
almost searchingly on hers.
"You say you have never drawn from
the human model, mademoiselle?"
"Never," said the young girl innocently.
"True," murmured the professor again.
"These are the classic ideal measurements.
There are no limbs like those now. Yet it
is wonderful! And this gem, you say, is
in England? "
"Yes."
" Good ! I am going there in a few days.
I shall make a pilgrimage to see it. ' Until
then, mademoiselle, I beg you to break as
many of my rules as you like."
Three weeks later she found the professor
one morning standing before her picture in
her private studio. "You have returned
from England," she said joyfully.
"I have," said the professor gravely.
"You have seen the original subject? "
she said timidly.
"I have not. I have not seen it, made-
moiselle," he said, gazing at her mildly
252 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
through his glasses, "because it does not
exist, and never existed."
The young girl turned pale.
"Listen. I have go to England. I ar-
rive at the Park of Domesday. I penetrate
the beautiful, wild garden. I approach the
fountain. I see the wonderful water, the
exquisite light and shade, the lilies, the
mysterious reeds beautiful, yet not as
beautiful as you have made it, mademoi-
selle, but no statue no river god ! I de-
mand it of the concierge. He knows of it
absolutely nothing. I transport myself to
the noble proprietor, Monsieur le Due, at
a distant chateau where he has collected the
ruined marbles. It is not there."
"Yet I saw it," said the young girl ear-
nestly, yet with a troubled face. "0 pro-
fessor," she burst out appealingly, "what
do you think it was ? "
"I think, mademoiselle," said the pro-
fessor gravely, "that you created it. Be-
lieve me, it is a function of genius ! More,
it is a proof, a necessity! You saw the
beautiful lake, the ruined fountain, the soft
shadows, the empty plinth, curtained by
reeds. You yourself say you feel there was
' something wanting. ' Unconsciously you
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 253
yourself supplied it. All that you had ever
dreamt of mythology, all that you had ever
seen of statuary, thronged upon you at that
supreme moment, and, evolved from your
own fancy, the river god was born. It is
your own, chere enfant, as much the off-
spring of your genius as the exquisite atmo-
sphere you have caught, the charm of light
and shadow that you have brought away.
Accept my felicitations. You have little
more to learn of me."
As he bowed himself out and descended
the stairs he shrugged his shoulders slightly.
"She is an adorable genius," he murmured.
"Yet she is also a woman. Being a wo-
man, naturally she has a lover this river
god! Why not?"
The extraordinary success of Miss For-
rest's picture and the instantaneous recog-
nition of her merit as an artist, apart from
her novel subject, perhaps went further to
remove her uneasiness than any serious con-
viction of the professor's theory. Never-
theless, it appealed to her poetic and mystic
imagination, and although other subjects
from her brush met with equally phenome-
nal success, and she was able in a year to
return to America with a reputation assured
254 A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN
beyond criticism, she never entirely forgot
the strange incident connected with her ini-
tial effort.
And by degrees a singular change came
over her. Rich, famous, and attractive,
she began to experience a sentimental and
romantic interest in that episode. Once,
when reproached by her friends for her in-
difference to her admirers, she had half
laughingly replied that she had once found
her " ideal," but never would again. Yet the
jest had scarcely passed her lips before she
became pale and silent. With this change
came also a desire to re-purchase the pic-
ture, which she had sold in her early suc-
cess to a speculative American picture-
dealer. On inquiry she found, alas! that
it had been sold only a day or two before
to a Chicago gentleman, of the name of
Potter, who had taken a fancy to it.
Miss Forrest curled her pretty lip, but,
nothing daunted, resolved to effect her pur-
pose, and sought the purchaser at his hotel.
She was ushered into a private drawing-
room, where, on a handsome easel, stood
the newly acquired purchase. Mr. Potter
was out, "but would return in a moment."
Miss Forrest was relieved, for, alone and
I
A VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN 255
undisturbed, she could now let her full soul
go out to her romantic creation. As she
stood there, she felt the glamour of the old
English garden come back to her, the play
of light and shadow, the silent pool, the
godlike face and bust, with its cast-down,
meditative eyes, seen through the parted
reeds. She clasped her hands silently be-
fore her. Should she never see it again as
then?
"Pray don't let me disturb you; but
won't you take a seat?"
Miss Forrest turned sharply round.
Then she started, uttered a frightened little
cry, and fainted away.
Mr. Potter was touched, but a master of
himself. As she came to, he said quietly :
" I came upon you suddenly as you stood
entranced by this picture just as I did
when I first saw it. That 's why I bought
it. Are you any relative of the Miss For-
rest who painted it?" he continued, quietly
looking at her card, which he held in his
hand.
Miss Forrest recovered herself sufficiently
to reply, and stated her business with some
dignity.
"Ah," said Mr. Potter, "that is another
256 A VISWN OF THE FOUNTAIN
question. You see, the picture has a special
value to me, as I once saw an old-fashioned
garden like that in England. But that
chap there, I beg your pardon, I mean
that figure, I fancy, is your own creation,
entirely. However, I '11 think over your
proposition, and if you will allow me I '11
call and see you about it."
Mr. Potter did call not once, but many
times and showed quite a remarkable in-
terest in Miss Forrest's art. The question
of the sale of the picture, however, remained
in abeyance. A few weeks later, after a
longer call than usual, Mr. Potter said :
"Don't you think the best thing we can
do is to make a kind of compromise, and
let us own the picture together?"
And they did.
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
As the train moved slowly out of the
station, the Writer of Stories looked up wea-
rily from the illustrated pages of the maga-
zines and weeklies on his lap to the illus-
trated advertisements on the walls of the
station sliding past his carriage windows.
It was getting to be monotonous. For a
while he had been hopefully interested in
the bustle of the departing trains, and looked
up from his comfortable and early invested
position to the later comers with that sense
of superiority common to travelers; had
watched the conventional leave-takings
always feebly prolonged to the uneasiness
of both parties and contrasted it with the
impassive business promptitude of the rail-
way officials; but it was the old experience
repeated. Falling back on the illustrated
advertisements again, he wondered if their
perpetual recurrence at every station would
not at last bring to the tired traveler the
loathing of satiety; whether the passenger
in railway carriages, continually offered
258 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
Somebody's oats, inks, washing blue, can-
dles, and soap, apparently as a necessary
equipment for a few hours' journey, would
not there and thereafter forever ignore the
use of these articles, or recoil from that
particular quality. Or, as an unbiased
observer, he wondered if, on the other
hand, impressible passengers, after passing
three or four stations, had ever leaped from
the train and refused to proceed further
until they were supplied with one or more
of those articles. Had he ever known any
one who confided to him in a moment of
expansiveness that he had dated his use of
Somebody's soap to an advertisement per-
sistently borne upon him through the me-
dium of a railway carriage window? No!
Would he not have connected that man
with that other certifying individual who
always appends a name and address singu-
larly obscure and unconvincing, yet who, at
some supreme moment, recommends Some-
body's pills to a dying friend, afflicted
with a similar address, which restore him
to life and undying obscurity. Yet these
pictorial and literary appeals must have a
potency independent of the wares they ad-
vertise, or they wouldn't be there.
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 259
Perhaps he was the more sensitive to this
monotony as he was just then seeking
change and novelty in order to write a new
story. He was not looking for material,
his subjects were usually the same, he
was merely hoping for that relaxation and
diversion which should freshen and fit him
for later concentration. Still, he had often
heard of the odd circumstances to which his
craft were sometimes indebted for sugges-
tion. The invasion of an eccentric-looking
individual probably an innocent trades-
man into a railway carriage had given
the hint for "A Night with a Lunatic; " a
nervously excited and belated passenger had
once unconsciously sat for an escaped
forger; the picking up of a forgotten novel
in the rack, with passages marked in pencil,
had afforded the plot of a love story ; or the
germ of a romance had been found in an
obscure news paragraph which, under less
listless moments, would have passed unread.
On the other hand, he recalled these in-
convenient and inconsistent moments from
which the so-called "inspiration" sprang,
the utter incongruity of time and place in
some brilliant conception, and wondered if
sheer vacuity of mind were really so favor-
able.
GO A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
Going back to his magazine again, he
began to get mildly interested in a story.
Turning the page, however, he was con-
fronted by a pictorial advertising leaflet
inserted between the pages, yet so artistic
in character that it might have been easily
mistaken for an illustration of the story he
was reading, and perhaps was not more re-
mote or obscure in reference than many he
had known. But the next moment he re-
cognized with despair that it was only a
smaller copy of one he had seen on the
hoarding at the last station. He threw the
leaflet aside, but the flavor of the story was
gone. The peerless detergent of the adver-
tisement had erased it from the tablets of
his memory. He leaned back in his seat
again, and lazily watched the flying sub-
urbs. Here were the usual promising
open spaces and patches of green, quickly
succeeded again by solid blocks of houses
whose rear windows gave directly upon the
line, yet seldom showed an inquisitive face
even of a wondering child. It was a
strange revelation of the depressing effects
of familiarity. Expresses might thunder
by, goods trains drag their slow length
along, shunting trains pipe all day beneath
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 261
their windows, but the tenants heeded them
not. Here, too, was the junction, with its
labyrinthine interlacing of tracks that dazed
the tired brain ; the overburdened telegraph
posts, that looked as if they really could
not stand another wire; the long lines of
empty, homeless, and deserted trains in
sidings that had seen better days; the idle
trains, with staring vacant windows, which
were eventually seized by a pert engine hiss-
ing, "Come along, will you?" and de-
parted with a discontented grunt from every
individual carriage coupling ; the racing
trains, that suddenly appeared parallel with
one's carriage windows, begot false hopes
of a challenge of speed, and then, without
warning, drew contemptuously and super-
ciliously away; the swift eclipse of every-
thing in a tunneled bridge; the long, slith-
ering passage of an "up " express, and then
the flash of a station, incoherent and un-
intelligible with pictorial advertisements
again.
He closed his eyes to concentrate his
thought, and by degrees a pleasant languor
stole over him. The train had by this time
attained that rate of speed which gave it
a slight swing and roll on curves and
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
switches not unlike the rocking of a cradle.
Once or twice he opened his eyes sleepily
upon the waltzing trees in the double planes
of distance, and again closed them. Then,
in one of these slight oscillations, he felt
himself ridiculously slipping into slumber,
and awoke with some indignation. An-
other station was passed, in which process
the pictorial advertisements on the hoard-
ings and the pictures in his lap seemed to
have become jumbled up, confused, and to
dance before him, and then suddenly and
strangely, without warning, the train
stopped short at another station. And
then he arose, and what five minutes be-
fore he never conceived of doing gathered
his papers and slipped from the carriage to
the platform. When I say "he" I mean,
of course, the Writer of Stories; yet the
man who slipped out was half his age and
a different-looking person.
The change from the motion of the train
for it seemed that he had been traveling
several hours to the firmer platform for
a moment bewildered him. The station
looked strange, and he fancied it lacked a
certain kind of distinctness. But that qual-
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 263
ity was also noticeable in the porters and
loungers on the platform. He thought it
singular, until it seemed to him that they
were not characteristic, nor in any way im-
portant or necessary to the business he had
in hand. Then, with an effort, he tried to
remember himself and his purpose, and
made his way through the station to the
open road beyond. A van, bearing the in-
scription, "Removals to Town and Coun-
try," stood before him and blocked his way,
but a dogcart was in waiting, and a griz-
zled groom, who held the reins, touched his
hat respectfully. Although still dazed by
his journey and uncertain of himself, he
seemed to recognize in the man that distinc-
tive character which was wanting in the
others. The correctness of his surmise was
revealed a few moments later, when, after
he had taken his seat beside him, and they
were rattling out of the village street, the
man turned towards him and said :
"Tha '11 know Sir Jarge? "
"I do not," said the young man.
"Ay! but theer 's many as cooms here as
doan't, for all they cooms. Tha '11 say it
ill becooms mea as war man and boy in Sir
Jarge 's sarvice for fifty year, to say owt
264 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
agen him, but I 'm here to do it, or they
couldn't foolfil their business. Tha wast
to ax me questions about Sir Jarge and the
Grange, and I wor to answer soa as to make
tha think thar was suthing wrong wi' un.
Howbut I may save tha time and tell thea
downroight that Sir Jarge forged his un-
cle's will, and so gotten the Grange. That
'ee keeps his niece in mortal fear o' he.
That tha '11 be put in haunted chamber wi'
a boggle."
"I think," said the young man hesitat-
ingly, "that there must be some mistake.
I do not know any Sir George, and I am
not going to the Grange."
"Eay! Then thee aren't the 'ero sent
down from London by the story writer?"
"Not by that one," said the young man
diffidently.
The old man's face changed. It was no
mere figure of speech: it actually was an-
other face that looked down upon the trav-
eler.
"Then mayhap your honor will be be-
spoken at the Angel's Inn," he said, with
an entirely distinct and older dialect, "and
a finer hostel for a young gentleman of
your condition ye '11 not find on this side of
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 265
Oxford. A fair chamber, looking to th
sun ; sheets smelling of lavender from Dame
Margery's own store, and, for the matter
of that, spread by the fair hands of Maud-
lin, her daughter the best favored lass
that ever danced under a Maypole. Ha!
have at ye there, young sir ! Not to speak
of the October ale of old Gregory, her
father ay, nor the rare Hollands, that
never paid excise duties to the king."
"I'm afraid," said the young traveler
timidly, "there's over a century between
us. There 's really some mistake."
"What?" said the groom, "ye are not
the young spark who is to marry Mistress
Amy at the Hall, yet makes a pother and
mess of it all by a duel with Sir Roger de
Cadgerly, the wicked baronet, for his over-
free discourse with our fair Maudlin this
very eve? Ye are not the traveler whose
post-chaise is now at the Falcon? Ye are
not he that was bespoken by the story
writer in London?"
"I don't think I am," said the young
man apologetically. "Indeed, as I am feel-
ing far from well, I think I '11 get out and
walk."
He got down the vehicle and driver
266 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
vanished in the distance. It did not sur-
prise him. "I must collect my thoughts,"
he said. He did so. Possibly the collec-
tion was not large, for presently he said,
with a sigh of relief :
"I see it all now! My name is Paul
Bunker. I am of the young branch of an
old Quaker family, rich and respected in
the country, and I am on a visit to my an-
cestral home. But I have lived since a
child in America, and am alien to the tra-
ditions and customs of the old country, and
even of the seat to which my fathers belong.
I have brought with me from the far West
many peculiarities of speech and thought
that may startle my kinsfolk. But I cer-
tainly shall not address my uncle as ' Hoss ! '
nor shall I say ' guess ' oftener than is
necessary."
Much brightened and refreshed by his
settled identity, he had time, as he walked
briskly along, to notice the scenery, which
was certainly varied and conflicting in char-
acter, and quite inconsistent with his pre-
conceived notions of an English landscape.
On his right, a lake of the brightest cobalt
blue stretched before a many-towered and
terraced town, which was relieved by a
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 267
background of luxuriant foliage and emer-
ald-green mountains; on his left arose a
rugged mountain, which he was surprised
to see was snow-capped, albeit a tunnel was
observable midway of its height, and a train
just issuing from it. Almost regretting that
he had not continued on his journey, as he
was fully sensible that it was in some way
connected with the railway he had quitted,
presently his attention was directed to the
gateway of a handsome park, whose man-
sion was faintly seen in the distance. Hur-
rying towards him, down the avenue of
limes, was a strange figure. It was that of
a man of middle age, clad in Quaker garb,
yet with an extravagance of cut and detail
which seemed antiquated even for England.
He had evidently seen the young man ap-
proaching, and his face was beaming with
welcome. If Paul had doubted that it was
his uncle, the first words he spoke would
have reassured him.
"Welcome to Hawthorn Hall," said the
figure, grasping his hand heartily, "but
thee will excuse me if I do not tarry with
thee long at present, for I am hastening,
even now, with some nourishing and sus-
taining food for Giles Hayward, a farm
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
laborer." He pointed to a package he was
carrying. "But thee will find thy cousins
Jane and Dorcas Bunker taking tea in the
summer-house. Go to them ! Nay posi-
tively I may not linger, but will return
to thee quickly." And, to Paul's astonish-
ment, he trotted away on his sturdy, re-
spectable legs, still beaming and carrying
his package in his hand.
"Well, I'll be dog-goned! but the old
man ain't going to be left, you bet!" he
ejaculated, suddenly remembering his dia-
lect. "He'll get there, whether school
keeps or not!" Then, reflecting that no
one heard him, he added simply, "He cer-
tainly was not over civil towards the nephew
he has never seen before. And those girls
whom I don't know! How very awk-
ward!"
Nevertheless, he continued his way up
the avenue towards the mansion. The park
was beautifully kept. Remembering the
native wildness and virgin seclusion of the
Western forest, he could not help contrast-
ing it with the conservative gardening of
this pretty woodland, every rood of which
had been patrolled by keepers and rangers,
and preserved and fostered hundreds of
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 269
years before he was born, until warmed for
human occupancy. At times the avenue
was crossed by grass drives, where the origi-
nal woodland had been displaced, not by
the exigency of a "clearing" for tillage, as
in his own West, but for the leisurely plea-
sure of the owner. Then, a few hundred
yards from the house itself, a quaint Jaco-
bean mansion, he came to an open space
where the sylvan landscape had yielded to
floral cultivation, and so fell upon a charm-
ing summer-house, or arbor, embowered
with roses. It must have been the one of
which his uncle had spoken, for there, to
his wondering admiration, sat two little
maids before a rustic table, drinking tea
demurely, yes, with all the evident delight
of a childish escapade from their elders.
While in the picturesque quaintness of their
attire there was still a formal suggestion of
the sect to which their father belonged,
their summer frocks differing in color,
yet each of the same subdued tint were
alike in cut and fashion, and short enough
to show their dainty feet in prim slippers
and silken hose that matched their frocks.
As the afternoon sun glanced through the
leaves upon their pink cheeks, tied up in
270 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
quaint hats by ribbons under their chins,
they made a charming picture. At least
Paul thought so as he advanced towards
them, hat in hand. They looked up at his
approach, but again cast down their eyes
with demure shyness; yet he fancied that
they first exchanged glances with each
other, full of mischievous intelligence.
"I am your cousin Paul," he said smil-
ingly, "though I am afraid I am introdu-
cing myself almost as briefly as your father
just now excused himself to me. He told
me I would find you here, but he himself
was hastening on a Samaritan mission."
"With a box in his hand? " said the girls
simultaneously, exchanging glances with
each other again.
"With a box containing some restorative,
I think," responded Paul, a little wonder-
"Restorative! So that's what he calls
it now, is it?" said one of the girls saucily.
"Well, no one knows what's in the box,
though he always carries it with him. Thee
never sees him without it "
"And a roll of paper," suggested the
other girl.
"Yes, a roll of paper but one never
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 271
knows what it is ! " said the first speaker.
"It's very strange. But no matter now,
Paul. Welcome to Hawthorn Hall. I am
Jane Bunker, and this is Dorcas." She
stopped, and then, looking down demurely,
added, "Thee may kiss us both, cousin
Paul."
The young man did not wait for a second
invitation, but gently touched his lips to
their soft young cheeks.
"Thee does not speak like an American,
Paul. Is thee really and truly one ? " con-
tinued Jane.
Paul remembered that he had forgotten
his dialect, but it was too late now.
"I am really and truly one, and your
own cousin, and I hope you will find me
a very dear "
" Oh ! " said Dorcas, starting up primly.
"You must really allow me to withdraw."
To the young man's astonishment, she
seized her parasol, and, with a youthful
affectation of dignity, glided from the sum-
mer-house and was lost among the trees.
"Thy declaration to me was rather sud-
den," said Jane quietly, in answer to his
look of surprise, "and Dorcas is peculiarly
sensitive and less like the ' world's people '
272 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
than I am. And it was just a little cruel,
considering that she has loved thee secretly
all these years, followed thy fortunes in
America with breathless eagerness, thrilled
at thy narrow escapes, and wept at thy
privations."
"But she has never seen me before!"
said the astounded Paul.
"And thee had never seen me before,
and yet thee has dared to propose to me
five minutes after thee arrived, and in her
presence."
"But, my dear girl! " expostulated Paul.
"Stand off!" she said, rapidly opening
her parasol and interposing it between
them. "Another step nearer ay, even
another word of endearment and I shall
be compelled nay, forced," she added in
a lower voice, "to remove this parasol, lest
it should be crushed and ruined ! "
"I see," he said gloomily, "you have
been reading novels; but so have I, and
the same ones! Nevertheless, I intended
only to tell you that I hoped you would
always find me a kind friend."
She shut her parasol up with a snap.
" And I only intended to tell thee that my
heart was given to another."
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 273
"You intended and now?"
"Is it the ' kind friend ' who asks?"
"If it were not?"
"Eeally?"
"Yes."
"Ah!"
"Oh!"
"But thee loves another? " she said, toy-
ing with her cup.
He attempted to toy with his, but broke
it. A man lacks delicacy in this kind of
persiflage. "You mean I am loved by an-
other," he said bluntly.
"You dare to say that! " she said, flash-
ing, in spite of her prim demeanor.
"No, but you did just now! You said
your sister loved me! "
"Did I?" she said dreamily. "Dear!
dear! That 's the trouble of trying to talk
like Mr. Blank's delightful dialogues. One
gets so mixed! "
"Yet you will be a sister to me?" he
said. "'Tis an old American joke, but
'twill serve."
There was a long silence.
"Had thee not better go to sister Dor-
cas? She is playing with the cows," said
Jane plaintively.
274 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
"You forget," he returned gravely, "that,
on page 27 of the novel we have both read,
at this point he is supposed to kiss her."
She had forgotten, but they both remem-
bered in time. At this moment a scream
came faintly from the distance. They both
started, and rose.
"It is sister Dorcas," said Jane, sitting
down again and pouring out another cup of
tea. "I have always told her that one of
those Swiss cows would hook her."
Paul stared at her with a strange revul-
sion of feeling. "I could save Dorcas," he
muttered to himself, "in less time than it
takes to describe." He paused, however,
as he reflected that this would depend en-
tirely upon the methods of the writer of
this description. "I could rescue her! I
have only to take the first clothes-line that
I find, and with that knowledge and skill
with the lasso which I learned in the wilds
of America, I could stop the charge of the
most furious ruminant. I will ! " and with-
out another word he turned and rushed off
in the direction of the sound.
He had not gone a hundred yards before
he paused, a little bewildered. To the left
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 275
could still be seen the cobalt lake with
the terraced background; to the right the
rugged mountains. He chose the latter.
Luckily for him a cottager's garden lay in
his path, and from a line supported by a
single pole depended the homely linen of
the cottager. To tear these garments from
the line was the work of a moment (al-
though it represented the whole week's
washing), and hastily coiling the rope dex-
terously in his hand, he sped onward. Al-
ready panting with exertion and excitement,
a few roods farther he was confronted with
a spectacle that left him breathless.
A woman young, robust, yet gracefully
formed was running ahead of him, driv-
ing before her with an open parasol an ani-
mal which he instantly recognized as one
of that simple yet treacherous species most
feared by the sex known as the "Moo
Cow."
For a moment he was appalled by the
spectacle. But it was only for a moment!
Recalling his manhood and her weakness,
he stopped, and bracing his foot against a
stone, with a graceful flourish of his lasso
around his head, threw it in the air. It
uncoiled slowly, sped forward with unerr-
276 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
ing precision, and missed! With the sin-
gle cry of "Saved! " the fair stranger sank
fainting in his arms! He held her closely
until the color came back to her pale face.
Then he quietly disentangled the lasso from
his legs.
"Where am I?" she said faintly.
"In the same place," he replied, slowly
but firmly. "But," he added, "you have
changed! "
She had, indeed, even to her dress. It
was now of a vivid brick red, and so much
longer in the skirt that it seemed to make
her taller. Only her hat remained the
same.
"Yes," she said, in a low, reflective voice
and a disregard of her previous dialect, as
she gazed up in his eyes with an eloquent
lucidity, "I have changed, Paul! I feel
myself changing at those words you uttered
to Jane. There are moments in a woman's
life that man knows nothing of; moments
bitter and cruel, sweet and merciful, that
change her whole being; moments in which
the simple girl becomes a worldly woman ;
moments in which the slow procession of
her years is never noted except by an-
other woman! Moments that change her
A ROMANCE OF TI1E LINE 277
outlook on the world and her relations to it
and her husband's relations! Moments
when the maid becomes a wife, the wife a
widow, the widow a re-married woman, by
a simple, swift illumination of the fancy.
Moments when, wrought upon by a single
word a look an emphasis and rising
inflection, all logical sequence is cast away,
processes are lost inductions lead no-
where. Moments when the inharmonious
becomes harmonious, the indiscreet discreet,
the inefficient efficient, and the inevitable
evitable. I mean," she corrected herself
hurriedly "You know what I mean! If
you have not felt it you have read it! "
"I have," he said thoughtfully. "We
have both read it in the same novel. She
is a fine writer."
"Ye-e-s." She hesitated with that slight
resentment of praise of another woman so
delightful in her sex. "But you have for-
gotten the Moo Cow ! " and she pointed to
where the distracted animal was careering
across the lawn towards the garden.
"You are right," he said, "the incident
is not yet closed. Let us pursue it."
They both pursued it. Discarding the
useless lasso, he had recourse to a few
278 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
well-aimed epithets. The infuriated ani-
mal swerved and made directly towards a
small fountain in the centre of the garden.
In attempting to clear it, it fell directly
into the deep cup-like basin and remained
helplessly fixed, with its fore-legs projecting
uneasily beyond the rim.
"Let us leave it there," she said, "and
forget it and all that has gone before.
Believe me," she added, with a faint sigh,
"it is best. Our paths diverge from this
moment. I go to the summer-house, and
you go to the Hall, where my father is ex-
pecting you." He would have detained
her a moment longer, but she glided away
and was gone.
Left to himself again, that slight sense
of bewilderment which had clouded his mind
for the last hour began to clear away; his
singular encounter with the girls strangely
enough affected him less strongly than his
brief and unsatisfactory interview with his
uncle. For, after all, he was his host, and
upon him depended his stay at Hawthorn
Hall. The mysterious and slighting allu-
sions of his cousins to the old man's eccen-
tricities also piqued his curiosity. Why
had they sneered at his description of the
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 279
contents of the package he carried and
what did it really contain? He did not
reflect that it was none of his business,
people in his situation seldom do, and he
eagerly hurried towards the Hall. But he
found in his preoccupation he had taken
the wrong turning in the path, and that he
was now close to the wall which bounded
and overlooked the highway. Here a sin-
gular spectacle presented itself. A cyclist
covered with dust was seated in the middle
of the road, trying to restore circulation to
his bruised and injured leg by chafing it
with his hands, while beside him lay his
damaged bicycle. He had evidently met
with an accident. In an instant Paul had
climbed the wall and was at his side.
"Can I offer you any assistance?" he
asked eagerly.
"Thanks no! I've come a beastly
cropper over something or other on this
road, and I 'm only bruised, though the
machine has suffered worse," replied the
stranger, in a fresh, cheery voice. He was
a good-looking fellow of about Paul's own
age, and the young American's heart went
out towards him.
"How did it happen ? " asked Paul.
280 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
"That's what puzzles me," said the
stranger. "I was getting out of the way
of a queer old chap in the road, and I ran
over something that seemed only an old
scroll of paper; but the shock was so great
that I was thrown, and I fancy I was for
a few moments unconscious. Yet I cannot
see any other obstruction in the road, and
there 's only that bit of paper." He pointed
to the paper, a half -crushed roll of ordi-
nary foolscap, showing the mark of the
bicycle upon it.
A strange idea came into Paul's mind.
He picked up the paper and examined it
closely. Besides the mark already indi-
cated, it showed two sharp creases about
nine inches long, and another exactly at
the point of the impact of the bicycle.
Taking a folded two-foot rule from his
pocket, he carefully measured these parallel
creases and made an exhaustive geometrical
calculation with his pencil on the paper.
The stranger watched him with awed and
admiring interest. Rising, he again care-
fully examined the road, and was finally
rewarded by the discovery of a sharp inden-
tation in the dust, which, on measurement
and comparison with the creases in the
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 281
paper and the calculations he had just
made, proved to be identical.
"There was a solid body in that paper,"
said Paul quietly; "a parallelogram exactly
nine inches long and three wide."
"I say! you 're wonderfully clever, don't
you know," said the stranger, with unaf-
fected wonder. "I see it all a brick."
Paul smiled gently and shook his head.
"That is the hasty inference of an inexpe-
rienced observer. You will observe at the
point of impact of your wheel the parallel
crease is curved, as from the yielding of
the resisting substances, and not broken,
as it would be by the crumbling of a brick."
"I say, you're awfully detective, don't
you know ! just like that fellow what 's
his name?" said the stranger admiringly.
The words recalled Paul to himself.
Why was he acting like a detective? and
what was he seeking to discover? Never-
theless, he felt impelled to continue. "And
that queer old chap whom you met why
did n't he help you?"
"Because I passed him before I ran into
the the parallelogram, and I suppose he
didn't know what happened behind him?"
"Did he have anything in his hand?"
282 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
"Can't say."
"And you say you were unconscious af-
terwards? "
"Yes!"
"Long enough for the culprit to remove
the principal evidence of his crime? "
"Come! I say, really you are you
know you are ! "
"Have you any secret enemy?"
"No."
"And you don't know Mr. Bunker, the
man who owns this vast estate?"
"Not at all. I 'm from Upper Tooting."
"Good afternoon," said Paul abruptly,
and turned away.
It struck him afterwards that his action
might have seemed uncivil, and even in-
human, to the bruised cyclist, who could
hardly walk. But it was getting late, and
he was still far from the Hall, which, oddly
enough, seemed to be no longer visible from
the road. He wandered on for some time,
half convinced that he had passed the lodge
gates, yet hoping to find some other en-
trance to the domain. Dusk was falling;
the rounded outlines of the park trees be-
yond the wall were solid masses of shadow.
The full moon, presently rising, restored
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 283
them again to symmetry, and at last he, to
his relief, came upon the massive gateway.
Two lions ramped in stone on the side pil-
lars. He thought it strange that he had
not noticed the gateway on his previous en-
trance, but he remembered that he was fully
preoccupied with the advancing figure of
his uncle. In a few minutes the Hall itself
appeared, and here again he was surprised
that he had overlooked before its noble pro-
portions and picturesque outline. Its broad
terraces, dazzlingly white in the moonlight;
its long line of mullioned windows, suffused
with a warm red glow from within, made it
look like part of a wintry landscape and
suggested a Christmas card. The vener-
able ivy that hid the ravages time had made
in its walls looked like black carving. His
heart swelled with strange emotions as he
gazed at his ancestral hall. How many of
his blood had lived and died there; how
many had gone forth from that great porch
to distant lands ! He tried to think of his
father a little child peeping between
the balustrades of that terrace. He tried
to think of it, and perhaps would have suc-
ceeded had it not occurred to him that it
was a known fact that his uncle had bought
284 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
the estate and house of an impoverished
nobleman only the year before. Yet he
could not tell why he seemed to feel higher
and nobler for that trial.
The terrace was deserted, and so quiet
that as he ascended to it his footsteps
seemed to echo from the walls. When he
reached the portals, the great oaken door
swung noiselessly on its hinges opened
by some unseen but waiting servitor and
admitted him to a lofty hall, dark with
hangings and family portraits, but warmed
by a red carpet the whole length of its stone
floor. For a moment he waited for the
servant to show him to the drawing-room
or his uncle's study. But no one appeared.
Believing this to be a part of the char-
acteristic simplicity of the Quaker house-
hold, he boldly entered the first door, and
found himself in a brilliantly lit and per-
fectly empty drawing-room. The same ex-
perience met him with the other rooms on
that floor the dining-room displaying an
already set, exquisitely furnished and deco-
rated table, with chairs for twenty guests!
He mechanically ascended the wide oaken
staircase that led to the corridor of bed-
rooms above a central salon. Here he
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 285
found only the same solitude. Bedroom
doors yielded to his touch, only to show the
same brilliantly lit vacancy. He presently
came upon one room which seemed to give
unmistakable signs of his own occupancy.
Surely there stood his own dressing-case on
the table ! and his own evening clothes care-
fully laid out on another, as if fresh from
a valet's hands. He stepped hastily into
the corridor there was no one there; he
rang the bell there was no response!
But he noticed that there was a jug of hot
water in his basin, and he began dressing
mechanically.
There was little doubt that he was in a
haunted house, but this did not particularly
disturb him. Indeed, he found himself
wondering if it could be logically called
a haunted house unless he himself was
haunting it, for there seemed to be no other
there. Perhaps the apparitions would come
later, when he was dressed. Clearly it was
not his uncle's house and yet, as he had
never been inside his uncle's house, he re-
flected that he ought not to be positive.
He finished dressing and sat down in an
armchair with a kind of thoughtful expec-
tancy. But presently his curiosity became
286 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
impatient of the silence and mystery, and
he ventured once more to explore the house.
Opening his bedroom door, he found him-
self again upon the deserted corridor, but
this time he could distinctly hear a buzz
of voices from the drawing-room below.
Assured that he was near a solution of the
mystery, he rapidly descended the broad
staircase and made his way to the open
door of the drawing-room. But although
the sound of voices increased as he ad-
vanced, when he entered the room, to his
utter astonishment, it was as empty as be-
fore.
Yet, in spite of his bewilderment and
confusion, he was able to follow one of the
voices, which, in its peculiar distinctness
and half-perfunctory tone, he concluded
must belong to the host of the invisible
assembly.
"Ah," said the voice, greeting some
unseen visitor, "so glad you have come.
Afraid your engagements just now would
keep you away." Then the voice dropped
to a lower and more confidential tone.
"You must take down Lady Dartman, but
you will have Miss Morecamp a clever
girl on the other side of you. Ah, Sir
A ROMANCE CF TEE LINE 287
George! So good of you to come. All
well at the Priory? So glad to hear it."
(Lower and more confidentially.) "You
know Mrs. Monkston. You '11 sit by her.
A little cut up by her husband losing his
seat. Try to amuse her."
Emboldened by desperation, Paul turned
in the direction of the voice. "I am Paul
Bunker," he said hesitatingly. "I 'm
afraid you '11 think me intrusive, but I was
looking for my uncle, and "
"Intrusive, my dear boy! The son of
my near neighbor in the country intrusive ?
Keally, now, I like that! Grace!" (the
voice turned in another direction) "here is
the American nephew of our neighbor
Bunker at Widdlestone, who thinks he is
' a stranger. ' '
"We all knew of your expected arrival
at Widdlestone it was so good of you to
waive ceremony and join us," said a well-
bred feminine voice, which Paul at once
assumed to belong to the hostess. "But I
must find some one for your dinner partner.
Mary " (here her voice was likewise turned
away), "this is Mr. Bunker, the nephew of
an old friend and neighbor in Upshire;"
(the voice again turned to him), "you will
288 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
take Miss Morecamp in. My dear " (once
again averted), "I must find some one else
to console poor dear Lord Billingtree with."
Here the hostess's voice was drowned by
fresh arrivals.
Bewildered and confused as he was,
standing in this empty desert of a drawing-
room, yet encompassed on every side by
human voices, so marvelous was the power
of suggestion, he seemed to almost feel the
impact of the invisible crowd. He was
trying desperately to realize his situation
when a singularly fascinating voice at his
elbow unexpectedly assisted him. It was
evidently his dinner partner.
"I suppose you must be tired after your
journey. When did you arrive ? "
"Only a few hours ago," said Paul.
"And I dare say you haven't slept since
you arrived. One does n't on the passage,
you know ; the twenty hours pass so quickly,
and the experience is so exciting to us
at least. But I suppose as an American
you are used to it."
Paul gasped. He had passively accepted
the bodiless conversation, because it was at
least intelligible ! But now 1 Was he
going mad?
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 289
She evidently noticed his silence. "Never
mind," she continued, "you can tell me all
about it at dinner. Do you know I always
think that this sort of thing what we're
doing now, this ridiculous formality of re-
ception, which I suppose is after all only
a concession to our English force of habit,
is absurd ! We ought to pass, as it were,
directly from our houses to the dinner-table.
It saves time."
" Yes no that is I'm afraid I
don't follow you," stammered Paul.
There was a slight pout in her voice as
she replied: "No matter now we must
follow them for our host is moving off
with Lady Billingtree, and it 's our turn
now."
So great was the illusion that he found
himself mechanically offering his arm as he
moved through the empty room towards the
door. Then he descended the staircase
without another word, preceded, however,
by the sound of his host's voice. Following
this as a blind man might, he entered the
dining-room, which to his discomfiture was
as empty as the salon above. Still follow-
ing the host's voice, he dropped into a chair
before the empty table, wondering what
290 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
variation of the Barmecide feast was in
store for him. Yet the hum of voices from
the vacant chairs around the board so
strongly impressed him that he could almost
believe that he was actually at dinner.
"Are you seated?" asked the charming
voice at his side.
"Yes," a little wonderingly, as his was
the only seat visibly occupied.
"I am so glad that this silly ceremony is
over. By the way, where are you?"
Paul would have liked to answer, "Lord
only knows! " but he reflected that it might
not sound polite. "Where am I? >> he
feebly repeated.
"Yes; where are you dining?"
It seemed a cool question under the cir-
cumstances, but he answered promptly,
"With you."
"Of course," said the charming voice;
"but where are you eating your dinner? "
Considering that he was not eating any-
thing, Paul thought this cooler still. But
he answered briefly, "In Upshire."
"Oh! At your uncle's?"
"No," said Paul bluntly; "in the next
house."
"Why, that 's Sir William's our host's
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 291
and he and his family are here in Lon-
don. You are joking."
"Listen!" said Paul desperately. Then
in a voice unconsciously lowered he hur-
riedly told her where he was how he came
there the empty house the viewless
company! To his surprise the only re-
sponse was a musical little laugh. But the
next moment her voice rose higher with an
unmistakable concern in it, apparently ad-
dressing their invisible host.
"Oh, Sir William, only think how dread-
ful. Here 's poor Mr. Bunker, alone in an
empty house, which he has mistaken for
his uncle's and without any dinner! "
"Really; dear, dear! How provoking!
But how does he happen to be with us?
James, how is this? "
"If you please, Sir William," said a
servant's respectful voice, "Widdlestone is
in the circuit and is switched on with the
others. We heard that a gentleman's lug-
gage had arrived at Widdlestone, and we
telegraphed for the rooms to be made ready,
thinking we 'd have her ladyship's orders
later."
A single gleam of intelligence flashed
upon Paul. His luggage yes, had been
292 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
sent from the station to the wrong house,
and he had unwittingly followed. But
these voices! whence did they come? And
where was the actual dinner at which his
host was presiding? It clearly was not at
this empty table.
" See that he has everything he wants at
once," said Sir William; "there must be
some one there." Then his voice turned in
the direction of Paul again, and he said
laughingly, " Possess your soul and appetite
in patience for a moment, Mr. Bunker;
you will be only a course behind us. But
we are lucky in having your company
even at your own discomfort."
Still more- bewildered, Paul turned to his
invisible partner. "May I ask where you
are dining?"
"Certainly; at home in Curzon Street,"
returned the pretty voice. "It was raining
so, I did not go out."
"And Lord Billington? " faltered
Paul.
"Oh, he's in Scotland at his own
place."
"Then, in fact, nobody is dining here at
all," said Paul desperately.
There was a slight pause, and then the
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 293
voice responded, with a touch of startled
suggestion in it: "Good heavens, Mr.
Bunker! Is it possible you don't know
we 're dining by telephone? "
"By what?"
"Telephone. Yes. We 're a telephonic
dinner-party. We are dining in our own
houses ; but, being all friends, we 're
switched on to each other, and converse
exactly as we would at table. It saves a
great trouble and expense, for any one of
us can give the party, and the poorest can
equal the most extravagant. People who
are obliged to diet can partake of their own
slops at home, and yet mingle with the
gourmets without awkwardness or the neces-
sity of apology. We are spared the spec-
tacle, at least, of those who eat and drink
too much. We can switch off a bore at
once. We can retire when we are fatigued,
without leaving a blank space before the
others. And all this without saying any-
thing of the higher spiritual and intellectual
effect freed from material grossness of
appetite and show which the dinner party
thus attains. But you are surely joking!
You, an American, and not know it!
Why, it comes from Boston. Have n't you
294 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
read that book, ' Jumping a Century ' ?
It 's by an American."
A strange illumination came upon Paul.
"Where had he heard something like this
before? But at the same moment his
thoughts were diverted by the material en-
trance of a footman, bearing a silver salver
with his dinner. It was part of his singu-
lar experience that the visible entrance of
this real, commonplace mortal the only
one he had seen in the midst of this
voiceless solitude was distinctly unreal, and
had all the effect of an apparition. He
distrusted it and the dishes before him.
But his lively partner's voice was now ad-
dressing an unseen occupant of the next
chair. Had she got tired of his ignorance,
or was it feminine tact to enable him to eat
something? He accepted the latter hypo-
thesis, and tried to eat. But he felt himself
following the fascinating voice in all the
charm of its youthful and spiritual inflec-
tions. Taking advantage of its momentary
silence, he said gently,
"I confess my ignorance, and am willing
to admit all you claim for this wonderful
invention. But do you think it compen-
sates for the loss of the individual person ?
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 295
Take my own case if you will not think
me personal. I have never had the plea-
sure of seeing you; do you believe that I
am content with only that suggestion of
your personality which the satisfaction of
hearing your voice affords me?"
There was a pause, and then a very mis'
chievous ring in the voice that replied: "It
certainly is a personal question, and it is
another blessing of this invention that
you '11 never know whether I am blushing
or not; but I forgive you, for / never be-
fore spoke to any one I had never seen
and I suppose it 's confusion. But do you
really think you would know me the real
one any better? It is the real person
who thinks and speaks, not the outward
semblance that we see, which very often
unfairly either attracts or repels us? We
can always show ourselves at our best, but
we must, at last, reveal our true colors
through our thoughts and speech. Is n't it
better to begin with the real thing first?"
"I hope, at least, to have the privilege
of judging by myself," said Paul gallantly.
"You will not be so cruel as not to let me
see you elsewhere, otherwise I shall feel as
if I were in some dream, and will certainly
296 A ROMANCE OF THE LINE
be opposed to your preference for reali-
ties."
"I am not certain if the dream would not
be more interesting to you," said the voice
laughingly. "But I think your hostess is
already saying ' good-by.' You know
everybody goes at once at this kind of
party ; the ladies don't retire first, and the
gentlemen join them afterwards. In an-
other moment we '11 all be switched off; but
Sir William wants me to tell you that his
coachman will drive you to your uncle's,
unless you prefer to try and make yourself
comfortable for the night here. Good-by ! "
The voices around him seemed to grow
fainter, and then utterly cease. The lights
suddenly leaped up, went out, and left him
in complete darkness. He attempted to
rise, but in doing so overset the dishes be-
fore him, which slid to the floor. A cold
air seemed to blow across his feet. The
"good-by" was still ringing in his ears as
he straightened himself to find he was in
his railway carriage, whose door had just
been opened for a young lady who was en-
tering the compartment from a wayside sta-
"> tion. "Good-by," she repeated to the friend
who was seeing her off. The Writer of
A ROMANCE OF THE LINE 297
Stories hurriedly straightened himself, gath-
ered up the magazines and papers that had
fallen from his lap, and glanced at the sta-
tion walls. The old illustrations glanced
back at him ! He looked at his watch ; he
had been asleep, just ten minutes !
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRAN-
CISCO
IT is but just to the respectable memory
of San Francisco that in these vagrant re-
collections I should deprecate at once any
suggestion that the levity of my title de-
scribed its dominant tone at any period of
my early experiences. On the contrary, it
was a singular fact that while the rest of
California was swayed by an easy, careless
unconventionalism, or swept over by waves
of emotion and sentiment, San Francisco
preserved an intensely material and practi-
cal attitude, and even a certain austere
morality. I do not, of course, allude to
the brief days of '49, when it was a strag-
gling beach of huts and stranded hulks, but
to the earlier stages of its development into
the metropolis of California. Its first tot-
tering steps in that direction were marked
by a distinct gravity and decorum. Even
during the period when the revolver set-
tled small private difficulties, and Vigilance
Committees adjudicated larger public ones,
an unmistakable seriousness and respecta-
bility was the ruling sign of its governing
class. It was not improbable that under
the reign of the Committee the lawless and
vicious class were more appalled by the
moral spectacle of several thousand black-
coated, serious-minded business men in em-
battled procession than by mere force of
arms, and one "suspect" a prize-fighter
is known to have committed suicide in
his cell after confrontation with his grave
and passionless shopkeeping judges. Even
that peculiar quality of Californian humor
which was apt to mitigate the extravagances
of the revolver and the uncertainties of
poker had no place in the decorous and re-
sponsible utterance of San Francisco. The
press was sober, materialistic, practical
when it was not severely admonitory of
existing evil; the few smaller papers that
indulged in levity were considered libelous
and improper. Fancy was displaced by
heavy articles on the revenues of the State
and inducements to the investment of cap-
ital. Local news was under an implied
censorship which suppressed anything that
might tend to discourage timid or cautious
capital. Episodes of romantic lawlessness
300 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
or pathetic incidents of mining life were
carefully edited with the comment that
these things belonged to the past, and that
life and property were now "as safe in San
Francisco as in New York or London."
Wonder-loving visitors in quest of scenes
characteristic of the civilization *were coldly
snubbed with this assurance. Fires, floods,
and even seismic convulsions were subjected
to a like grimly materialistic optimism. I
have a vivid recollection of a ponderous
editorial on one of the severer earthquakes,
in which it was asserted that only the un-
expectedness of the onset prevented San
Francisco from meeting it in a way that
would be deterrent of all future attacks.
The unconsciousness of the humor was only
equaled by the gravity with which it was
received by the whole business community.
Strangely enough, this grave materialism
flourished side by side with and was even
sustained by a narrow religious strictness
more characteristic of the Pilgrim Fathers
of a past century than the Western pioneers
of the present. San Francisco was early
a city of churches and church organizations
to which the leading men and merchants
belonged. The lax Sundays of the dying
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 301
Spanish race seemed only to provoke a re-
vival of the rigors of the Puritan Sabbath.
With the Spaniard and his Sunday after-
noon bullfight scarcely an hour distant,
the San Francisco pulpit thundered against
Sunday picnics. One of the popular
preachers, declaiming upon the practice of
Sunday dinner-giving, averred that when
he saw a guest in his best Sunday clothes
standing shamelessly upon the doorstep of
his host, he felt like seizing him by the
shoulder and dragging him from that thresh-
old of perdition.
Against the actual heathen the feeling
was even stronger, and reached its climax
one Sunday when a Chinaman was stoned
to death by a crowd of children returning
from Sunday-school. I am offering these
examples with no ethical purpose, but
merely to indicate a singular contradictory
condition which I do not think writers of
early Calif ornian history have fairly re-
corded. It is not my province to suggest
any theory for these appalling exceptions
to the usual good-humored lawlessness and
extravagance of the rest of the State. They
may have been essential agencies to the
growth and evolution of the city. They
302 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
were undoubtedly sincere. The impressions
I propose to give of certain scenes and inci-
dents of my early experience must, there-
fore, be taken as purely personal and Bohe-
mian, and their selection as equally indi-
vidual and vagrant. I am writing of what
interested me at the time, though not per-
haps of what was more generally character-
istic of San Francisco.
I had been there a week an idle week,
spent in listless outlook for -employment;
a full week in my eager absorption of the
strange life around me and a photographic
sensitiveness to certain scenes and incidents
of those days, which start out of my mem-
ory to-day as freshly as the day they im-
pressed me.
One of these recollections is of "steamer
night," as it was called, the night of
"steamer day," preceding the departure
of the mail steamship with the mails for
"home." Indeed, at that time San Fran-
cisco may be said to have lived from steamer
day to steamer day; bills were made due
on that day, interest computed to that pe-
riod, and accounts settled. The next day
was the turning of a new leaf: another
essay to fortune, another inspiration of en-
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 303
ergy. So recognized was the fact that even
ordinary changes of condition, social and
domestic, were put aside until after steamer
day. " I '11 see what I can do after next
steamer day " was the common cautious or
hopeful formula. It was the "Saturday
night " of many a wage-earner and to
him a night of festivity. The thorough-
fares were animated and crowded; the
saloons and theatres full. I can recall my-
self at such times wandering along the City
Front, as the business part of San Fran-
cisco was then known. Here the lights
were burning all night, the first streaks of
dawn finding the merchants still at their
counting-house desks. I remember the dim
lines of warehouses lining the insecure
wharves of rotten piles, half filled in that
had ceased to be wharves, but had not yet
become streets, their treacherous yawning
depths, with the uncertain gleam of tarlike
mud below, at times still vocal with the lap
and gurgle of the tide. I remember the
weird stories of disappearing men found
afterward imbedded in the ooze in which
they had fallen and gasped their life away.
I remember the two or three ships, still left
standing where they were beached a year
304 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
or two before, built in between warehouses,
their bows projecting into the roadway.
There was the dignity of the sea and its
boundless freedom in their beautiful curves,
which the abutting houses could not destroy,
and even something of the sea's loneliness
in the far-spaced ports and cabin windows
lit up by the lamps of the prosaic landsmen
who plied their trades behind them. One
of these ships, transformed into a hotel,
retained its name, the Niantic, and part
of its characteristic interior unchanged. I
remember these ships' old tenants the
rats who had increased and multiplied to
such an extent that at night they fearlessly
crossed the wayfarer's path at every turn,
and even invaded the gilded saloons of
Montgomery Street. In the Niantic their
pit-a-pat was met on every staircase, and
it was said that sometimes in an excess of
sociability they accompanied the traveler
to his room. In the early "cloth-and-
papered " houses so called because the
ceilings were not plastered, but simply cov-
ered by stretched and whitewashed cloth
their scamperings were plainly indicated in
zigzag movements of the sagging cloth, or
they became actually visible by finally drop-
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 305
ping through the holes they had worn in it !
I remember the house whose foundations
were made of boxes of plug tobacco part
of a jettisoned cargo used instead of more
expensive lumber; and the adjacent ware-
house where the trunks of the early and
forgotten "forty-niners" were stored, and
never claimed by their dead or missing
owners were finally sold at auction. I
remember the strong breath of the sea over
all, and the constant onset of the trade
winds which helped to disinfect the deposit
of dirt and grime, decay and wreckage,
which were stirred up in the later evolutions
of the city.
Or I recall, with the same sense of youth-
ful satisfaction and unabated wonder, my
wanderings through the Spanish Quarter,
where three centuries of quaint customs,
speech, and dress were still preserved;
where the proverbs of Sancho Panza were
still spoken in the language of Cervantes,
and the high-flown illusions of the La Man-
chian knight still a part of the Spanish
Californian hidalgo's dream. I recall the
more modern "Greaser," or Mexican his
index finger steeped in cigarette stains ; his
velvet jacket and his crimson sash; the
306 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
many -flounced skirt and lace manta of his
women, and their caressing intonations
the one musical utterance of the whole hard-
voiced city. I suppose I had a boy's diges-
tion and bluntness of taste in those days,
for the combined odor of tobacco, burned
paper, and garlic, which marked that melo-
dious breath, did not affect me.
Perhaps from my Puritan training I ex-
perienced a more fearful joy in the gam-
bling saloons. They were the largest and
most comfortable, even as they were the
most expensively decorated rooms in San
Francisco. Here again the gravity and de-
corum which I have already alluded to were
present at that earlier period though per-
haps from concentration of another kind.
People staked and lost their last dollar with
a calm solemnity and a resignation that was
almost Christian. The oaths, exclamations,
and feverish interruptions which often char-
acterized more dignified assemblies were
absent here. There was no room for the
lesser vices; there was little or no drunken-
ness; the gaudily dressed and painted wo-
men who presided over the wheels of for-
tune or performed on the harp and piano
attracted no attention from those ascetic
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 307
players. The man who had won ten thou-
sand dollars and the man who had lost
everything rose from the table with equal
silence and imperturbability. / never wit-
nessed any tragic sequel to those losses; I
never heard of any suicide on account of
them. Neither can I recall any quarrel or
murder directly attributable to this kind of
gambling. It must be remembered that
these public games were chiefly rouge et
noir, monte, faro, or roulette, in which the
antagonist was Fate, Chance, Method, or
the impersonal "bank," which was supposed
to represent them all; there was no indi-
vidual opposition or rivalry ; nobody chal-
lenged the decision of the "croupier," or
dealer.
I remember a conversation at the door
of one saloon which was as characteristic
for its brevity as it was a type of the pre-
vailing stoicism. "Hello!" said a depart-
ing miner, as he recognized a brother miner
coming in, "when did you come down?"
"This morning," was the reply. "Made
a strike on the bar? " suggested the first
speaker. "You bet!" said the other, and
passed in. I chanced an hour later to be
at the same place as they met again their
308 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
relative positions changed. "Hello! Whar
now?" said the incomer. "Back to the
bar." "Cleaned out?" "You bet!" Not
a word more explained a common situation.
My first youthful experience at those
tables was au accidental one. I was watch-
ing roulette one evening, intensely absorbed
in the mere movement of the players.
Either they were so preoccupied with the
game, or I was really older looking than
my actual years, but a bystander laid his
hand familiarly on my shoulder, and said,
as to an ordinary habitue, "Ef you 're not
chippin' in yourself, pardner, s'pose you
give me a show." Now I honestly believe
that up to that moment I had no intention,
nor even a desire, to try my own fortune.
But in the embarrassment of the sudden
address I put my hand in my pocket, drew
out a coin, and laid it, with an attempt at
carelessness, but a vivid consciousness that
I was blushing, upon a vacant number.
To my horror I saw that I had put down
a large coin the bulk of my possessions !
I did not flinch, however; I think any boy
who reads this will understand my feeling ;
it was not only my coin but my manhood
at stake. I gazed with a miserable show
BOHEMIAN DATS IN SAN FRANCISCO 309
of indifference at the players, at the chan-
delier anywhere but at the dreadful ball
spinning round the wheel. There was a
pause; the game was declare^, the rake
rattled up and down, but still I did not
look at the table. Indeed, in my inexpe-
rience of the game and my embarrassment,
I doubt if I should have known if I had
won or not. I had made up my mind that
I should lose, but I must do so like a man,
and, above all, without giving the least sus-
picion that I was a greenhorn. I even af-
fected to be listening to the music. The
wheel spun again; the game was declared,
the rake was busy, but I did not move. At
last the man I had displaced touched me
on the arm and whispered, "Better make
a straddle and divide your stake this time."
I did not understand him, but as I saw he
was looking at the board, I was obliged to
look, too. I drew back dazed and bewil-
dered ! Where my coin had lain a moment
before was a glittering heap of gold.
My stake had doubled, quadrupled, and
doubled again. I did not know how much
then-- 1 do not know now it may have
been not more than three or four hundred
dollars but it dazzled and frightened me.
310 BOHEMIAN DATS IN SAN FRANCISCO
"Make your game, gentlemen," said the
croupier monotonously. I thought he
looked at me indeed, everybody seemed
to be looking at me and my companion
repeated his warning. But here I must
again appeal to the boyish reader in defense
of my idiotic obstinacy. To have taken
advice would have shown my youth. I
shook my head I could not trust my
voice. I smiled, but with a sinking heart,
and let my stake remain. The ball again
sped round the wheel, and stopped. There
was a pause. The croupier indolently ad-
vanced his rake and swept my whole pile
with others into the bank ! I had lost it all.
Perhaps it may be difficult for me to ex-
plain why I actually felt relieved, and even
to some extent triumphant, but I seemed to
have asserted my grown-up independence
possibly at the cost of reducing the number
of my meals for days ; but what of that ! I
was a man ! I wish I could say that it was
a lesson to me. I am afraid it was not.
It was true that I did not gamble again,
but then I had no especial desire to and
there was no temptation. I am afraid it
was an incident without a moral. Yet it
had one touch characteristic of the period
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 311
which I like to remember. The man who
had spoken to me, I think, suddenly real-
ized, at the moment of my disastrous coup,
the fact of my extreme youth. He moved
toward the banker, and leaning over him
whispered a few words. The banker looked
up, half impatiently, half kindly his
hand straying tentatively toward the pile
of coin. I instinctively knew what he
meant, and, summoning my determination,
met his eyes with all the indifference I could
assume, and walked away.
I had at that period a small room at the
top of a house owned by a distant relation
a second or third cousin, I think. He
was a man of independent and original
character, had a Ulyssean experience of
men and cities, and an old English name
of which he was proud. While in London
he had procured from the Heralds' College
his family arms, whose crest was stamped
upon a quantity of plate he had brought
with him to California. The plate, to-
gether with an exceptionally good cook,
which he had also brought, and his own
epicurean tastes, he utilized in the usual
practical Californian fashion by starting a
rather expensive half-club, half-restaurant
312 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
in the lower part of the building which
he ruled somewhat autocratically, as became
his crest. The restaurant was too expen-
sive for me to patronize, but I saw many
of its frequenters as well as those who had
rooms at the club. They were men of very
distinct personality; a few celebrated, and
nearly all notorious. They represented a
Bohemianism if such it could be called
less innocent than my later experiences.
I remember, however, one handsome young
fellow whom I used to meet occasionally on
the staircase, who captured my youthful
fancy. I met him only at midday, as he
did not rise till late, and this fact, with a
certain scrupulous elegance and neatness in
his dress, ought to have made me suspect
that he was a gambler. In my inexpe-
rience it only invested him with a certain
romantic mystery.
One morning as I was going out to my
very early breakfast at a cheap Italian cafe
on Long Wharf, I was surprised to find
him also descending the staircase. He was
scrupulously dressed even at that early
hour, but I was struck by the fact that he
was all in black, and his slight figure, but-
toned to the throat in a tightly fitting fro."k
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 313
coat, gave, I fancied, a singular melancholy
to his pale Southern face. Nevertheless,
he greeted me with more than his usual
serene cordiality, and I remembered that
he looked up with a half-puzzled, half-
amused expression at the rosy morning sky
as he walked a few steps with me down the
deserted street. I could not help saying
that I was astonished to see him up so early,
and he admitted that it was a break in his
usual habits, but added with a smiling sig-
nificance I afterwards remembered that it
was "an even chance if he did it again."
As we neared the street corner a man in a
buggy drove up impatiently. In spite of
the driver's evident haste, my handsome
acquaintance got in leisurely, and, lifting
his glossy hat to me with a pleasant smile,
was driven away. I have a very lasting
recollection of his face and figure as the
buggy disappeared down the empty street.
I never saw him again. It was not until
a week later that I knew that an hour after
he left me that morning he was lying dead
in a little hollow behind the Mission Dolores
shot through the heart in a duel for
which he had risen so early.
I recall another incident of that period,
314 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
equally characteristic, but happily less
tragic in sequel. I was in the restaurant
one morning talking to my cousin when a
man entered hastily and said something to
him in a hurried whisper. My cousin con-
tracted his eyebrows and uttered a sup-
pressed oath. Then with a gesture of
warning to the man he crossed the room
quietly to a table where a regular habitue
of the restaurant was lazily finishing his
breakfast. A large silver coffee-pot with
a stiff wooden handle stood on the table
before him. My cousin leaned over the
guest familiarly and apparently made some
hospitable inquiry as to his wants, with his
hand resting lightly on the coffee-pot handle.
Then possibly because, my curiosity hav-
ing been excited, I was watching him more
intently than the others / saw what prob-
ably no one else saw that he deliberately
upset the coffee-pot and its contents over
the guest's shirt and waistcoat. As the
victim sprang up with an exclamation, my
cousin overwhelmed him with apologies for
his carelessness, and, with protestations of
sorrow for the accident, actually insisted
upon dragging the man upstairs into his
own private room, where he furnished him
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 315
with a shirt and waistcoat of his own. The
side door had scarcely closed upon them,
and I was still lost in wonder at what I had
seen, when a man entered from the street.
He was one of the desperate set I have al-
ready spoken of, and thoroughly well known
to those present. He cast a glance around
the room, nodded to one or two of the
guests, and then walked to a side table and
took up a newspaper. I was conscious at
once that a singular constraint had come
over the other guests a nervous awkward-
ness that at last seemed to make itself
known to the man himself, who, after an
affected yawn or two, laid down the paper
and walked out.
"That was a mighty close call," said one
of the guests with a sigh of relief.
"You bet! And that coffee-pot spill was
the luckiest kind of accident for Peters,"
returned another.
"For both," added the first speaker, "for
Peters was armed too, and would have seen
him come in ! "
A word or two explained all. Peters
and the last comer had quarreled a day or
two before, and had separated with the in-
tention to "shoot on sight," that is, wher-
316 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
ever they met, a form of duel common to
those days. The accidental meeting in the
restaurant would have been the occasion,
with the usual sanguinary consequence,
but for the word of warning given to my
cousin by a passer-by who knew that Peters'
antagonist was coming to the restaurant to
look at the papers. Had my cousin re-
peated the warning to Peters himself he
would only have prepared him for the con-
flict which he would not have shirked
and so precipitated the affray.
The ruse of upsetting the coffee-pot,
which everybody but myself thought an
accident, was to get him out of the room
before the other entered. I was too young
then to venture to intrude upon my cousin's
secrets, but two or three years afterwards I
taxed him with the trick and he admitted
it regretfully. 1 believe that a strict inter-
pretation of the "code" would have con-
demned his act as unsportsmanlike, if not
unfair!
I recall another incident, connected with
the building equally characteristic of the
period. The United States Branch Mint
stood very near it, and its tall, factory-like
chimneys overshadowed my cousin's roof.
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 317
Some scandal had arisen from an alleged
leakage of gold in the manipulation of that
metal during the various processes of smelt-
ing and refining. One of the excuses offered
was the volatilization of the pracious metal
and its escape through the draft of the tall
chimneys. All San Francisco laughed at
this explanation until it learned that a cor-
roboration of the theory had been estab-
lished by an assay of the dust and grime
of the roofs in the vicinity of the Mint.
These had yielded distinct traces of gold.
San Francisco stopped laughing, and that
portion of it which had roofs in the neigh-
borhood at once began prospecting. Claims
were staked out on these airy placers, and
my cousin's roof, being the very next one
to the chimney, and presumably "in the
lead," was disposed of to a speculative com-
pany for a considerable sum. I remember
my cousin telling me the story for the
occurrence was quite recent and taking
me with him to the roof to explain it, but
I am afraid I was more attracted by the
mystery of the closely guarded building, and
the strangely tinted smoke which arose from
this temple where money was actually being
"made," than by anything else. Nor did
318 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
I dream as I stood there a very lanky,
open-mouthed youth that only three or
four years later I should be the secretary
of its superintendent. In my more adven-
turous ambition I am afraid I would have
accepted the suggestion half-heartedly.
Merely to have helped to stamp the gold
which other people had adventurously found
was by no means a part of my youthful
dreams.
At the time of these earlier impressions
the Chinese had not yet become the recog-
nized factors in the domestic and business
economy of the city which they had come
to be when I returned from the mines three
years later. Yet they were even then a
more remarkable and picturesque contrast
to the bustling, breathless, and brand-new
life of San Francisco than the Spaniard.
The latter seldom flaunted his faded dignity
in the principal thoroughfares. "John"
was to be met everywhere. It was a com-
mon thing to see a long file of sampan coo-
lies carrying their baskets slung between
them, on poles, jostling a modern, well--
dressed crowd in Montgomery Street, or
to get a whiff of their burned punk in the
side streets; while the road leading to their
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 319
temporary burial-ground at Lone Mountain
was littered with slips of colored paper
scattered from their funerals. They brought
an atmosphere of the Arabian Nights into
the hard, modern civilization; their shops
not always confined at that time to a
Chinese quarter were replicas of the ba-
zaars of Canton and Peking, with their
quaint display of little dishes on which tid-
bits of food delicacies were exposed for
sale, all of the dimensions and unreality of
a doll's kitchen or a child's housekeeping.
They were a revelation to the Eastern
immigrant, whose preconceived ideas of
them were borrowed from the ballet or pan-
tomime ; they did not wear scalloped drawers
and hats with jingling bells on their points,
nor did I ever see them dance with their
forefingers vertically extended. They were
always neatly dressed, even the commonest
of coolies, and their festive dresses were
marvels. As traders they were grave and
patient; as servants they were sad and
civil, and all were singularly infantine in
their natural simplicity. The living repre-
sentatives of the oldest civilization in the
world, they seemed like children. Yet they
kept their beliefs and sympathies to them-
320 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
selves, never fraternizing with the fanqul,
or foreign devil, or losing their singular
racial qualities. They indulged in their
own peculiar habits; of their social and
inner life, San Francisco knew but little
and cared less. Even at this early period,
and before I came to know them more in-
timately, I remember an incident of their
daring fidelity to their own customs that
was accidentally revealed to me. I had be-
come acquainted with a Chinese youth of
about my own age, as I imagined, al-
though from mere outward appearance it
was generally impossible to judge of a
Chinaman's age between the limits of sev-
enteen and forty years, and he had, in a
burst of confidence, taken me to see some
characteristic sights in a Chinese warehouse
within a stone's throw of the Plaza. I was
struck by the singular circumstance that
while the warehouse was an erection of
wood in the ordinary hasty Californian
style, there were certain brick and stone
divisions in its interior, like small rooms
or closets, evidently added by the China-
men tenants. My companion stopped be-
fore a long, very narrow entrance, a mere
longitudinal slit in the brick wall, and with
BOHEMIAN DATS IN SAN FRANCISCO 321
a wink of infantine deviltry motioned me
to look inside. I did so, and saw a room,
really a cell, of fair height but scarcely six
feet square, and barely able to contain a
rude, slanting couch of stone covered with
matting, on which lay, at a painful angle,
a richly dressed Chinaman. A single
glance at his dull, staring, abstracted eyes
and half -opened mouth showed me he was
in an opium trance. This was not in itself
a novel sight, and I was moving away when
I was suddenly startled by the appearance
of his hands, which were stretched helplessly
before him on his body, and at first sight
seemed to be in a kind of wicker cage.
I then saw that his finger-nails were
seven or eight inches long, and were sup-
ported by bamboo splints. Indeed, they
were no longer human nails, but twisted
and distorted quills, giving him the appear-
ance of having gigantic claws. "Velly big
Chinaman," whispered my cheerful friend;
" first-chop man high classee no can
washee no can eat no dlinke, no catchee
him own glub allee same nothee man
China boy must catchee glub for him, allee
time ! Oh, him first-chop man you bet-
tee!"
322 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
I had heard of this singular custom of
indicating caste before, and was amazed and
disgusted, but I was not prepared for what
followed. My companion, evidently think-
ing he had impressed me, grew more reck-
less as showman, and saying to me, "Now
me showee you one funny thing heap
makee you laugh," led me hurriedly across
a little courtyard swarming with chickens
and rabbits, when he stopped before an-
other inclosure. Suddenly brushing past
an astonished Chinaman who seemed to be
standing guard, he thrust me into the inclo-
sure in front of a most extraordinary object.
It was a Chinaman, wearing a huge, square,
wooden frame fastened around his neck like
a collar, and fitting so tightly and rigidly
that the flesh rose in puffy weals around his
cheeks. He was chained to a post, although
it was as impossible for him to have escaped
with his wooden cage through the narrow
doorway as it was for him to lie down and
rest in it. Yet I am bound to say that his
eyes and face expressed nothing but apathy,
and there was no appeal to the sympathy
of the stranger. My companion said hur-
riedly,
"Velly bad man; stealee heap from
BOHEMIAN DATS IN SAN FRANCISCO 323
Chinamen," and then, apparently alarmed
at his own indiscreet intrusion, hustled me
away as quickly as possible amid a shrill
cackling of protestation from a few of his
own countrymen who had joined the one
who was keeping guard. In another mo-
ment we were in the street again scarce
a step from the Plaza, in the full light of
Western civilization not a stone's throw
from the courts of justice.
My companion took to his heels and left
me standing there bewildered and indig-
nant. I could not rest until I had told my
story, but without betraying my companion,
to an elder acquaintance, who laid the facts
before the police authorities. I had ex-
pected to be closely cross-examined to be
doubted to be disbelieved. To my sur-
prise, I was told that the police had already
cognizance of similar cases of illegal and
barbarous punishments, but that the victims
themselves refused to testify against their
countrymen and it was impossible to con-
vict or even to identify them. "A white
man can't tell one Chinese from another,
and there are always a dozen of 'em ready
to swear that the man you 've got isn't the
one." I was startled to reflect that I, too,
324 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
could not have conscientiously sworn to
either jailor or the tortured prisoner or
perhaps even to my cheerful companion.
The police, on some pretext, made a raid
upon the premises a day or two afterwards,
but without result. I wondered if they had
caught sight of the high-class, first-chop
individual, with the helplessly outstretched
fingers, as that story I had kept to myself.
But these barbaric vestiges in John
Chinaman's habits did not affect his rela-
tions with the San Franciscans. He was
singularly peaceful, docile, and harmless as
a servant, and, with rare exceptions, honest
and temperate. If he sometimes matched
cunning with cunning, it was the flattery
of imitation. He did most of the menial
work of San Francisco, and did it cleanly.
Except that he exhaled a peculiar druglike
odor, he was not personally offensive in
domestic contact, and by virtue of being
the recognized laundryman of the whole
community his own blouses were always
freshly washed and ironed. His conversa-
tional reserve arose, not from his having to
deal with an unfamiliar language, for he
had picked up a picturesque and varied
vocabulary with ease, but from his natural
temperament. He was devoid of curiosity,
and utterly unimpressed by anything but
the purely business concerns of those he
served. Domestic secrets were safe with
him; his indifference to your thoughts, ac-
tions, and feelings had all the contempt
which his three thousand years of history
and his innate belief in your inferiority
seemed to justify. He was blind and deaf
in your household because you did n't inter-
est him in the least. It was said that a
gentleman, who wished to test his impas-
siveness, arranged with his wife to come
home one day and, in the hearing of his
Chinese waiter who was more than usually
intelligent to disclose with well-simulated
emotion the details of a murder he had just
committed. He did so. The Chinaman
heard it without a sign of horror or atten-
tion even to the lifting of an eyelid, but
continued his duties unconcerned. Unfor-
tunately, the gentleman, in order to increase
the horror of the situation, added that now
there was nothing left for him but to cut
his throat. At this John quietly left the
room. The gentleman was delighted at the
success of his ruse until the door reopened
and John reappeared with his master's
326 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
razor, which he quietly slipped as if it
had been a forgotten fork beside his mas-
ter's plate, and calmly resumed his serving.
I have always considered this story to be
quite as improbable as it was inartistic,
from its tacit admission of a certain interest
on the part of the Chinaman. / never
knew one who would have been sufficiently
concerned to go for the razor.
His taciturnity and reticence may have
been confounded with rudeness of address,
although he was always civil enough. "I
see you have listened to me and done ex-
actly what I told you," said a lady, com-
mending some performance of her servant
after a previous lengthy lecture; "that's
very nice." "Yes," said John calmly, "you
talkee allee time; talkee allee too much."
"I always find Ling very polite," said an-
other lady, speaking of her cook, "but I
wish he did not always say to me, ' Good-
night, John,' in a high falsetto voice."
She had not recognized the fact that he was
simply repeating her own salutation with
his marvelous instinct of relentless imita-
tion, even as to voice. I hesitate to record
the endless stories of his misapplication of
that faculty which were then current, from
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 327
the one of the laundryman who removed
the buttons from the shirts that were sent
to him to wash that they might agree with
the condition of the one offered him as a
pattern for "doing up," to that of the
unfortunate employer who, while showing
John how to handle valuable china care-
fully, had the misfortune to drop a plate
himself an accident which was followed
by the prompt breaking of another by the
neophyte, with the addition of "Oh, hel-
lee!" in humble imitation of his master.
I have spoken of his general cleanliness ;
I am reminded of one or two exceptions,
which I think, however, were errors of
zeal. His manner of sprinkling clothes in
preparing them for ironing was peculiar.
He would fill his mouth with perfectly pure
water from a glass beside him, and then,
by one dexterous movement of his lips in
a prolonged expiration, squirt the water in
an almost invisible misty shower on the
article before him. Shocking as this was
at first to the sensibilities of many Ameri-
can employers, it was finally accepted, and
even commended. It was some time after
this that the mistress of a household, ad-
miring the deft way in which her cook had
328 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
spread a white sauce on certain dishes, was
cheerfully informed that the method was
"allee same."
His recreations at that time were chiefly
gambling, for the Chinese theatre wherein
the latter produced his plays (which lasted
for several months and comprised the events
of a whole dynasty) was not yet built. But
he had one or two companies of jugglers
who occasionally performed also at Ameri-
can theatres. I remember a singular inci-
dent which attended the debut of a newly
arrived company. It seemed that the com-
pany had been taken on their Chinese repu*
tation solely, and there had been no pre-
vious rehearsal before the American stage
manager. The theatre was filled with an
audience of decorous and respectable San
Franciscans of both sexes. It was sud-
denly emptied in the middle of the perform-
ance; the curtain came down with an
alarmed and blushing manager apologizing
to deserted benches, and the show abruptly
terminated. Exactly what had happened
never appeared in the public papers, nor in
the published apology of the manager. It
afforded a few days' mirth for wicked San
Francisco, and it was epigrammatically
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 329
summed up in the remark that "no woman
could be found in San Francisco who was
at that performance, and no man who was
not." Yet it was alleged even by John's
worst detractors that he was innocent of
any intended offense. Equally innocent,
but perhaps more morally instructive, was
an incident that brought his career as a
singularly successful physician to a disas-
trous close. An ordinary native Chinese
doctor, practicing entirely among his own
countrymen, was reputed to have made ex-
traordinary cures with two or three Ameri-
can patients. With no other advertising
than this, and apparently no other induce-
ment offered to the public than what their
curiosity suggested, he was presently be-
sieged by hopeful and eager sufferers.
Hundreds of patients were turned away
from his crowded doors. Two interpreters
sat, day and night, translating the ills of
ailing San Francisco to this medical oracle,
and dispensing his prescriptions usually
small powders in exchange for current
coin. In vain the regular practitioners
pointed out that the Chinese possessed no
superior medical knowledge, and that their
religion, which proscribed dissection and
330 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
autopsies, naturally limited their under-
standing of the body into which they put
their drugs. Finally they prevailed upon
an eminent Chinese authority to give them
a list of the remedies generally used in the
Chinese pharmacopeia, and this was pri-
vately circulated. For obvious reasons I
may not repeat it here. But it was summed
up again after the usual Calif ornian epi-
grammatic style by the remark that
"whatever were the comparative merits of
Chinese and American practice, a simple
perusal of the list would prove that the
Chinese were capable of producing the most
powerful emetic known." The craze sub-
sided in a single day; the interpreters and
their oracle vanished; the Chinese doctors'
signs, which had multiplied, disappeared,
and San Francisco awoke cured of its mad-
ness, at the cost of some thousand dollars.
My Bohemian wanderings were confined
to the limits of the city, for the very good
reason that there was little elsewhere to go.
San Francisco was then bounded on one
side by the monotonously restless waters of
the bay, and on the other by a stretch of
equally restless and monotonously shifting
sand dunes as far as the Pacific shore.
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 331
Two roads penetrated this waste: one to
Lone Mountain the cemetery; the other
to the Cliff House happily described as
"an eight-mile drive with a cocktail at the
end of it." Nor was the humor entirely
confined to this felicitous description. The
Cliff House itself, half restaurant, half
drinking saloon, fronting the ocean and the
Seal Rock, where disporting seals were the
chief object of interest, had its own pecul-
iar symbol. The decanters, wine-glasses,
and tumblers at the bar were all engraved
in old English script with the legal initials
"L. S." (Xocws Sigilli), "the place of
the seal."
On the other hand, Lone Mountain, a
dreary promontory giving upon the Golden
Gate and its striking sunsets, had little
to soften its weird suggestiveness. As the
common goal of the successful and unsuc-
cessful, the carved and lettered shaft of the
man who had made a name, and the staring
blank headboard of the man who had none,
climbed the sandy slopes together. I have
seen the funerals of the respectable citizen
who had died peacefully in his bed, and the
notorious desperado who had died "with
his boots on," followed by an equally im-
332 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
pressive cortege of sorrowing friends, and
often the self -same priest. But more awful
than its barren loneliness was the utter ab-
sence of peacefulness and rest in this dismal
promontory. By some wicked irony of its
situation and climate it was the personifica-
tion of unrest and change. The incessant
trade winds carried its loose sands hither
and thither, uncovering the decaying coffins
of early pioneers, to bury the wreaths and
flowers, laid on a grave of to-day, under
their obliterating waves. No tree to shade
them from the glaring sky above could live
in those winds, no turf would lie there to
resist the encroaching sand below. The
dead were harried and hustled even in their
graves by the persistent sun, the unremit-
ting wind, and the unceasing sea. The de-
parting mourner saw the contour of the
very mountain itself change with the shift-
ing dunes as he passed, and his last look
beyond rested on the hurrying, eager waves
forever hastening to the Golden Gate.
If I were asked to say what one thing
impressed me as the dominant and charac-
teristic note of San Francisco, I should say
it was this untiring presence of sun and
wind and sea. They typified, even if they
BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO 333
were not, as I sometimes fancied, the actual
incentive to the fierce, restless life of the
city. I could not think of San Francisco
without the trade winds; I could not ima-
gine its strange, incongruous, multigenerous
procession marching to any other music.
They were always there in my youthful re-
collections; they were there in my more
youthful dreams of the past as the myste-
rious vientes generales that blew the Philip-
pine galleons home.
For six mouths they blew from the north-
west, for six months from the southwest,
with unvarying persistency. They were
there every morning, glittering in the
equally persistent sunlight, to chase the
San Franciscan from his slumber; they
were there at midday, to stir his pulses with
their beat; they were there again at night,
to hurry him through the bleak and flaring
gas-lit streets to bed. They left their mark
on every windward street or fence or gable,
on the outlying sand dunes; they lashed
the slow coasters home, and hurried them
to sea again; they whipped the bay into
turbulence on their way to Contra Costa,
whose level shoreland oaks they had trimmed
to windward as cleanly and sharply as with
334 BOHEMIAN DAYS IN SAN FRANCISCO
a pruning-shears. Untiring themselves,
they allowed no laggards; they drove the
San Franciscan from the wall against which
he would have leaned, from the scant shade
in which at noontide he might have rested.
They turned his smallest fires into confla-
grations, and kept him ever alert, watchful,
and eager. In return, they scavenged his
city and held it clean and wholesome; in
summer they brought him the soft sea-fog
for a few hours to soothe his abraded sur-
faces; in winter they brought the rains and
dashed the whole coast-line with flowers,
and the staring sky above it with soft, un-
wonted clouds. They were always there
strong, vigilant, relentless, material, un-
yielding, triumphant.
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