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BEADLE & ADAMS’ 20 CENT NOVELS.

Albert W. Aiken’s Dick Talbot Series.

 

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Kentuck, the Sport.
BY, ALBERT W. AIKEN.
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAM ST., N. Y.

 

 

 

 

 
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| KENTUCK, THE SPORT;

oR,

DICK TALBOT AT THE MINES,

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

Ar=uor or ‘“ Rocky Mountarm Ros,” “ Insun Dick,” “ OverLann Krr.

NEW YORK:
BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,

9 WILLIAM STREBE.
 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by
BEADLE AND ADAMS,

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

PROLOGUE.

THE DEVIL’S CANYON.

**@Go read the annals of the North,
And records there of many a wail,
Of marshaling and going forth
For missing sheriffs, and for men

Who fell and none knew where or when—
7 * * * * * . e

Go cross their wilds, as I have done,
From -nowy crest to sleeping vales,
And you will find on every one
, by i Enough to swell a thousand tales.”

. —JOAQUIN MILLER.
noe Down over the lava-beds, blackened by the action of the
volcanic fires, rushed the Pitt river.

From the borders of Oregon came the stream, and for a
hundred miles or more grim Mount Shasta’s snow-crowned
peak kept watch and ward over the winding river.

Barren and desolate was the plateau through which the
upper part of the stream flowed. The braves of the moun-
tain tribes—the Shastas, McClouds, Pushas and Tonatons—
_ | aptly termed this dreadful waste the Devil’s Garden; and the

te ; deep defile at the end of the lava formation, through which

_ the mighty power of the headlong stream had cut a ragged

_ Way, they fitly called the Devil’s Canyon. Little wonder

| that the superstitious red-men believed the evil spirit loved

_ both barren waste and rude defile, for at the end of the can-

yon, where the stream rushed out into the valley, the geyser

springs poured their jets of boiling water high into the air,

and the cavity from which the hot steam spurted fresh from

the subterranean chamers beneath, where the chemical ac-

_ tion disturbed the repose vf oid mother Earth, seemed like to
_. be the portal to the realios below. Jean

i
. ‘

| ts

1

i . a
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‘with them he bound the helpless man hard and fast. This

10 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

The smoke from the white man’s fire ascended not within
the valley of the Pitt; civilization had not planted her ban-
ners there.

And, barren, desolate, the larid seemed laboring under a
curse. Even the red warriors bent their steps either to the

north or south, and avoided the lava region, which afforded |

shelter only to noisome and venomous reptiles.

Almost timberless, too, was the country near to the stream,
only a scattered growth of cedar and juniper.

The hot afternoon sun of an August day had sunk behind
the snowy top of Shasta, when a powerfully-built, bronzed-
faced, heavily-bearded man came slowly down the eastern
slope washed by the river.

He carried a rifle, ready cocked, in the hollow of his arm,
and carefully scrutinized the country before him as he came
on. He was looking for a foe; he sought him amid the low
growth of juniper by the bank of the -stream; watched for
the gleam of his rifle-barrel amid the dark clumps of cedai
high up on the mountain side above the geyser springs.

But he saw neither the glistening barrel, nor the haggard,

brown-bearded face that he sought, yet feared; and an ea. |

clamation of satisfaction came from his lips.

Descending to the stream, he stooped to drink. Hardly
had he bent over the rushing water and lifted the first glit-
tering drops to his parched lips, when, from the shelter of »

neighboring bowlder, behind which, snakelike, he had bee, |

lying in ambush, sprung a dark-faced, haggard-featured man.

With all the strength of the Oregon lion, lord of the lone-
ly northern wastes, the new-comer struck the stranger a fear-
ful blow behind the ear with his clenched fist. A single
groan and the victim fell over on his side, stunned.

The assailant first bent over his victim, then stood erect
and cast a hasty glance around, as if to assure himself that
he was master of the field. No living thing was in sight,
except the brawny stranger lying motionless by the side of
the stream.

Then the victor stooped, and, removing the cord of un-
tunned leather which he had wound many times around his
waist, cut off two pieces, each about a yard in length, and

 
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    

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8

THE AVENGER. 11

‘Work completed, he stood erect and again looked around

him, evidently pondering what next to do. The prey was
his hands, but he hesitated to kill him; death seemed so
r a vengeance.

His eyes fell upon a shelving rock, which extended out
far over the rapid torrent, three hundred feet or more down
the river; a scanty growth of juniper had gained a foothald
amid the rocks, and the foliage extending over the stream
Was mirrored in the clear waters twenty feet below.

A fierce smile came over the thin features of the out-
Cast and wanderer as he saw the overhanging rock, anda
terrible scheme flashed into his mind.

‘ Seizing the brawny form of his victim he cast it over his
shoulder, thus plainly revealing his wondrous strength.)

To the summit of the rock he bore the senseless form.
Laying it prone upon the face, the outcast rove a running
Noose and placed it around the neck of his prisoner. The
Other end of the cord he fastened to the juniper roots. Then
he sat down and waited for the stunned man to recover.

Slowly the senses of the stranger came back to him. It

“did not take him long to realize his position.

‘“‘ Mercy!” he cried, piteously, looking up into the haggard

2.

“ What mercy did you or your gang show me?” the out-
Cast sternly demanded.

“T but did another’s bidding.”

“And now must answer for it! You first, and then the
Test, one by one; no mercy, no escape from my vengeance,
except in death!”

Then the terrible avenger seized the man and swung him
Off the cliff, letting him descend slowly; he had adjusted the
Noose so as not to hang him outright.

From the bosom of the river a small rock lifted its jagged

@dges, the surface exposed just enough for a man to place

his feet upon. As the doomed man’s toes touched this rock,
the merciless executioner tightened the cord around the roots
of the juniper.

Half-suspended by the cord, half-resting his feet upon the
tock, pinioned hand and foot, the stern-faced stranger felt
as if death would be almosv a blessing. A single motion

 

 
   

12 KENTUCK, TINE SPORT.
would cast him from the rock, and then, the noose tighten-
ing, would send him to eternity. He feared to move, feared
even to call aloud, although he knew that his companions
could not be far off and might chance to come that way at
any moment.

The avenger left the rock, went up the stream to the
mouth of the canyon and there crossed by means of the rocks
in the river to the other bank. On his way he had stopped
and taken a rifle from behind the bowlder which had served
him as a place of ambush. He then found a seat upon a
rock near where the geyser springs spouted out of the earth,
his rifle laid across his lap; and from that seat he watched
and waited for the pinioned wretch .to die.

Slowly the light faded and the darkness came.

Prayer and supplication, then oath and threat wildly de-
livered, came from the man who stood so near to the brink
of eternity. One moment he would promise countless gold
in exchange for liberty; the next he would call down curses
upon the head of his tormentor, and cry aloud that from the
grave even he would rise for vengeance.

_ Darkness came, and executioner and culprit alike were hid-
den from each other’s eyes.

The night wind surged gently through the cedar boughs
and softly kissed the leaves vf the juniper; the river ran
steadily on, breaking in spray drops against the edges of the
bowlders in the stream, its waters even falling now and then
upon the feet of the doomed man, as, despite his efforts, the
weakening muscles were slowly yielding, and he was gradu-
ally slipping from the rock.

In the darkness, above the roar of the river, rushing and
tumbling from the mouth of the canyon, above the sighing
of the wind amid the cedar and juniper boughs, and its shrill
‘whistle as it played in the hollows of the canyon, came thc
sound of a human voice, but now so unnatural, so unlike
the voice of man, so shrill, harsh, and discordant, that it
seemed more like the attempt of some giant ape to imitate
his cultured descendant than like the tones of a human be-
ing.

Curses, too awful for ears to hear, or tongue to repeat;
wild bursts of maniac laughter, followed by imploring cries

 

 

 
 

 

THE PRINCE OF MOUNTAINS.

for death to come, and yet, the speaker clung to the slippery
surface of the rock with the desperation of despair.

Slowly the moon came up; it shone down on Shasta’s
crown of virgin snow, and Lassen’s uncovered peaks—danced
its beams along the river where a stolid, haggard man sat
like a statue and watched the execution of the most terrible
vengeance that a seared heart could wish or an unsparing
band could execute.

CHAPTER I.
IN THE RED SNOW.

Lirtine its snow-crowned ‘peak, fourteen thousand feet
above the level of the sea, great Mount Shasta towers aloft,
as if keeping watch and ward over Northern California.

Never melts the snow from Shasta’s summit, no matter
how fierce the warm spring rains or how torrid the heat of
the summer sun. 3

~ Covered over with virgin snow, pure as when fresh from

‘*Heaven’s garners,” it falls in feathery flakes upon the an-
cient volcano peak, the proud old mountain lifts its summit
above the clouds, a landmark to the traveler for leagues
around.

Approaching Shasta from the north, the slope is covered
by a scanty growth of stunted cedar and oak, such is the
poverty of the soil; scattered through the higher parts of this
timber-belt are patches of chaparral which—sure proof of the
barrenness of the soil—are termed the ‘‘ Devil’s Acres.” At
eight thousand feet above the level of the sea, the forest trees
disappear, and a few hardy shrubs, struggling for existence,
take their place. At nine thousand feet, the shrubs die
away, and then commences the growth of a low form of veg-
etable of a vermilion color, which, generated in and staining
the white flakes, cause the belt to be known as the ‘red
Snow.” At twelve thousand feet, even this vegetation ends,
and from that hight to the cone of the mountain stretches one ©
Vast field of untarnished snow.

Thirteen thousand two hundred and forty feet above the

 

  

 
 

14 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

level of the sea, a rudely circular and nearly level place, evi-
dently the bottom of an extinct crater, the northern side of
which has been broken away, strongly proves Shasta’s volcanic
claim.

On the level arena, the steam and sulphurous gases con-
stantly escaping, clearly show that the old-time fire still dimly
burns within the heart of the mountain peak.

The clear sun of May was shining full upon the snowy
peak; its beams also féll upon two human forms, tenants of
the circular space upon the mountain’s side.

The dusky skins of the two told that within their veins ran
the red life-blood of the Indian.

One was a chief, as was amply proved by the eagle plumes
braided in his hair, the massive wristlets of virgin gold, rudely
formed by the stone hatchets of the savage, which he wore,
and. from the costly skins which protected him from the keen
edge of the mountain air; also from his bearing, too, upright
as the mountain pine, and his form builded with the strength
of hammered brass by nature’s loving hand.

Hee-ma-Nang-a (Sun-man) was chief of the Shasta tribe.
The time had been when from the Sacramento river to the
Klamath lake—from the peaks of the Sierra Nevada to the
spurs of the coast range, the braves of Shasta had been the
lords of hill, valley and stream; Pusha, Sacramento, Tonaton,
McCloud, Pah-Utah, all alike fled from the Shasta warriors,
when they donned the war-paint, for were they not the fav-
ored children of the great spirit, Topitone, who dwelt on the
top of the mighty peak of Shasta?

But, another race had come, a tribe of bearded men,
strangely clad, cruel, and overbearing, armed with wondrous
weapons, who dug into the bowels of the mountains, and
turned the streamlet’s course aside that they might delve in
the sands beneath for the yellow grain which they called
gold.

Hee-ma-Nang-a, chief of a hundred braves, the sole rem-
nant of the once powerful tribe of Shasta, mourned over the
lost hunting grounds of his race, and with jealous eyes saw
that each day added to the strength of the bearded men, and
that, little by little, they had come nearer and nearer to the
haunts of the red warriors.

   

aio

 
 
  
 
 
 
    

 

 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
   
   
   
      

TEE CHIEF OF TH# FPHASTAS, 15

The chief, standing within the circular space, with his
back to the peak, was gazing, full-eyed, into the sun, as if
secking counsel from the god of his ancestors.

On the edge of the space, gazing northward down the val-
ley, was the companion of the chief, an Indian girl, light in
color, regular in feature, and perfect in form.

With all the grace of a Diana, ancient goddess of the

chase, she stood poised upon the lava-rock, clad in a garb of
4+ skins, her arms bare andadorned with golden bands, curiously
hammered from the rough gold of the mountain “pocket.”
A fillet of skin bound around her temples confined the luxu-
riant raven hair that floated in tangled masses over her
shapely shoulders. A single eagle-plume, the flight feathers
of the princely bird, entwined amid her hair, told that she
was the daughter of a chief.

Yuet-a (Moon) was the sister of the chief of the Shastas and
the idol of the tribe.

Gazing northward, down the valley, afar off by the swift
; waters of the Shasta river, she saw the smoke curling upward
st on the air from the settlement of the whites, which, in their

3 strange language, they called Cinnabar City.

Six months before, no smoke from a white man’s fire rose
within a day’s walk of Shasta, but then there came a party of
the bearded, red-shirted white men following the course of the
river up from the town of Yreka; they came into the pleasant
valley cut by the Shasta stream, and the quartz rock tumbled
from the mountain side, as the pick-axes tore into the bosom
of the cliff.

The prospecters had struck a ‘‘lead,” and soon Cinnabar
City had a local habitation and a name.

The Cinnabar City Quartz Mining Company, Richard Tal-
bot, Superintendent, erected a mill with eight stamps; some
en smaller concerns put up mills, the adjacent country promised

well, and, at the time of which we write, Cinnabar City had
a population of over three hundred.

The whites wrought a wondrous change in the appearance
of the country in a very little while. Huge tunnels were run
into the sides of the mountains, water-power was directed

' against the dirt-hills and cut out great slices of earth, and in
the bed of the river, just below the town, where a bar ex-

 
—e

ere

   

16 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

tended across it, the water had been turned a little from its
course, so that the greater part of the bar was dry, and there
a small settlement had sprung up, popularly known by the
name of Angel’s Bar.

Cinnabar City bid fair to grow into something of a place,
for there was gold there in abundance, although not to be
picked up in the rough.

The Indian girl sighed as she saw the white smoke curling
up on the air from the mining town; the presence of the pale
and bearded invader was fatal to her race.

‘‘Does my sister see the pale strangers yet?” asked the
chief, who, leaning on his rifle, was standing so far back
that he did not command an immediate view of the mountain
side. ;

“No, Yuet-a can only see the smoke from the lodges of
the bearded men,” the girl replied.

And then, even as she spoke, from amid the low growth
of oak and cedar came two men toiling up the mountain side.

‘“ Yes, Yuet-a does see them now!” she exclaimed, and, as
she spoke, she drew back so as not to be seen by the new-
comers,

“Take my rifle and from behind the rock watch the pale
strangers; they are snakes.and may seek to bite the red chief.
If their tongues are not forked they come to tell the braves of
Shasta how to drive the white men from the valley.”

““They have stopped amid the red snow!” the girl said..
‘‘Good; it is there they will meet the chief.”

CH AGP: TE Rail .

CINNABAR CITY.

A Bricut October day and a troop of bearded, red-shirted
men advancing up the stream which was fed by the melting
snows on Shasta peak. Reckless were they that ’round them
the Indian watch-fires burned on the summit of the hills, and
that the red braves, ten, twenty to one, like panthers, concealed
within the wood, stood ready to spring upon them.

 

 

 
 

ANGEL’S BAR. 17

_ And then, when they camped at night beside the stream,
the red McClouds, led by their great war-chief, Koo-chus
(The Hog), came down upon them with the fury of the ava-
Janche. A hundred red braves sprung from canyon and from
hill-side—their intent, at a single charge, to drive the hand-
ful of whites into the river; but the prospecting miners were
made of tough material. The repeating rifles with which
they were armed did terrible execution, and in ten minutes’
time the Indians, panic-stricken, were in full retreat.

Never again did the warriors of the McCloud venture upon
an open attack, but they hung like wasps upon the flank of
the whites, ready to dispatch any straggler who might stray
from the main body.

At last the little party of whites came to where the foot-
hills retreated on either side, forming a valley through the
center of which ran the river.

For three miles or so within the valley the stream assumed
a new character; before, it had been a turbulent torrent,
rushing madly onward, but when it debouched from the small
eanyon at the head of the valley, it changed altogether and
flowed peacefully along—the very ideal of a pastoral stream
—over yellow sands.

Rough Bill Brown, one of the men of ’49, a veteran miner,
got just one look at the reach of yellow sand, extending half-
across the river, as he came round the bend at the lower end
of the valley, and up went his old slouch-hat in the air.

““Hi-yah, boys!” he yelled; ‘‘the promised land, for sure!
Thar’s the place to take out the ‘pay dirt’ or I’m a sucker!
Ain’t that Jeetle bar jist fit fur an angel to squat on an’ stake
a claim, eh?”

And the chance appellation stuck to the reach of sand,
Angel’s Bar it was from that time forth.

It was about four in the afternoon when the party struck
the valley, but pick and shovel, pan and spoon were soon in
full play, and before the sun went down to his bed behind
the far-distant peaks of the Coast Range, Brown announced
that he ‘‘ reckoned ” the quartz from the cliff-side would ‘‘ pan
out” at the rate of from fourteen to twenty dollars a ton, and

oy mebbe” do better than that when they got fairly into the
Vein.

 
eer ener ee te

    
 

18 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

The ‘‘pan” too reported good ‘‘ pay dirt,” both from the
bar in the river and from the low foot-hills at the northern
end of the valley.

“*T calculate a man can rake in from four to ten dollars

- per day, and that ain’t to be sneezed at,” observed the “‘ pros-
. pecter,” who had operated the pan.

And so, busy as bees, the little party went to work.
Claims were staked off, cabins were built, and soon the smoke
of the mining camp ascending to heaven, told to the native
red-man that another fair valley was lost to his race forever.

Brown and another one of the party, much to the aston-
ishment of the rest, had laid claim to the quartz district, neg-
lecting the easier worked ‘‘ bar” and ‘‘ placer” claims.

But the miners soon saw what the two were up to, when
Dick Talbot, Brown’s partner, started with a lot of the ore
for San Francisco, with the intention of their forming a joint-
steck mining-company.

Talbot, active and go-ahead, succeeded in enlisting a com-
yany of capitalists in his enterprise. They dispatched an
gent to examine the claim; he reported favorably, and the
result was the forming of the Cinnabar Quartz Mining Com-
pany, capital $50,000, divided into five hundred shares at $100
each. One hundred shares were allotted to Talbot and
Brown, in consideration of which they made over the claim
to the company; and in addition, they were engaged, respec-
tively, as superintendent and foreman of the mine, at a sal-
ary of five dollars per day, and the company to find dwelling-
places for them upon the claim.

The salary was put at a merely nominal figure, at .Talbot’s
request. Both he and Brown were firm in their belief that
they had a ‘‘lead” which would ‘beat the Marysville
Quartz all hollow,” in regard to gold per ton of ore, and
they wished to let the capitalists see that it was no ‘ salted”
claim they had discovered.

In Californian mining parlance to “‘ salt” a claim is either
to conceal rich pay dirt, and then dig it up, and pretend that
it is virgin soil, or else to mingle first-class ore with the real
product of the claim, and then submit it as a fair sample of
the richness of the mine.

“The Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company built Cinnabar

 

 

 
 

A BIG STRIKE. 19

City; Angel’s Bar became only a suburb, The company
put up an eight-stamp mill, and built a canal from the head
of the valley, diverting a portion of the water from its natural
channel, to give power to work their machinery.

This proceeding took a good many hands; and as the re-
port of the new “ diggings” got abroad, settlers began te
flock in. etn

In mining parlance, the Cinnabar diggings were ‘‘ panning
out” well. The folks on the “‘ Bar” were making from
eight to twelve dollars per day, with the “pan” and cradle
alone, and four or five of them combined were putting up a
“sluice” from which they expected great things

After spending about thirty thousand for machinery, labor,
etc., Superintendent Talbot let the water on in the canal, and
the mill went to work, surrounded by the entire population
of the ‘‘ city” and vicinity. Even the diggings on the Bar
were deserted; all had come to see machinery—representing
brains—compete with manual labor. ©

About three tons of ore the stamps turned out, and then,
with a smash—bang—part of the machinery gave way.

While Talbot and the machinist went to work to repair
damages, Brown proceeded with his assistants to clean up
the sluices and get at the gold.

Great was the excitement when he announced that the
ore had yielded at the rate of forty dollars per ton; and as
the cost of the extracting process might be roughly set down
at ten dollars, the yield was therefore equal to a profit of
about thirty dollars a ton if the quartz continued equally
rich, as they continued to follow up the vein; and as the
mill was equal to crushing eighteen to twenty tons in the
twenty-four hours, being run night and day, it was plain
that the Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company had made a “ big
strike.”

A company was formed on the spot of rough, bearded,
red-shirted, slouch-hatted men who offered Messrs. Talbot
and Brown $20,000 for their one hundred shares in the mine,
equal to an advance of a hundred per cent above par.

But Brown and Talbot, both clear-headed, calm-nerved
men, quietly said that they would like to hear some gentle-
man oiter $40,000, and then they would consider about it.

 
  

20 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

This new company couldn’t raise*the ‘‘ blind,” but imme-
diately bought a claim near to the new mill, and prepaxed to
r,t go into the Quartz crushing business on their own hook.

} } It took about a day to repair the mill, then she started
a again, ran about an hour, and went to smash.

Nothing discouraged, Talbot and Brown went to work to
repair her, while the gentlemen who were making ten dol-
lars a day, with old-fashioned pans and ‘‘ cradles,” down at
the Bar, emphatically declared that they didn’t believe in
them ‘‘ blamed ” mills ‘‘ anyhow.”

The machinery finally got to work, though, and went
along for a month or so all right, but the ore didn’t keep up
tothe standard of the first day; from forty dollars per ton,
it slowly but surely diminished to about fifteen; then in three
months more, it got to twelve, and then to nine, and finally
: | to six, a clear loss of four dollars per ton.

It was all right at head-quarters, at San Francisco, as long
as the mine was running at a profit; but when it commenced
to lose money, the president and directors began to growl,
ys and to send special agents to see what the matter was; and
_ then the more long-headed .of -the stockholders, believing
Hi } that the mine was done for, quietly sold out their stock, and
| the result was, that Cinnabar Quartz Mining stock went
LEE down to about 75 from 190, And then the spring flood
i came, and swept away the upper end of the canal, which
supplied the water to run the mill. Again work stopped.
This was a heavy blow to Superintendent Talbot.

 

CHAPTER III.
A FRISCO “SHARP.”

On the north side of California street, about ten doors
from where the Bank of California edifice now stands, was a
small, three-story brick house, the upper part of which was
chiefly devoted to lawyers’ offices.

Just about two weeks after the canal of the Cinnabar
~ Quartz Mining Company broke, and shrewd observers had

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
  
  
   
  
 
     
   

 
 

 

THE GENTLEMAN IN BLACK. 21

prophesied that the aforesaid company would ‘‘ go bu’st,” a
tall, slenderly-built. gentleman, dressed entirely in black, and
with considerable care, was proceeding slowly along Cali-
fornia street. He was evidently in search of something, for
he scrutinized the houses closely as he walked along, and paid
particular attention to all the little tin lawyer-signs.

When, he came to the modest three-story brick-house that
we have mentioned, his eyes fell upon a very plain little
sign, affixed to one side of the entry-way, and which bore -
the simple inscription, ‘‘Hosa Congleton,” in plain Roman
letters.

“That’s my man!” the gentleman in black muttered; and
as he hesitated for a moment to take a look at the building,
before he entered it, we will improve the opportunity to de-
scribe him.

As we have said, he was tall and slender in build; an
Italian face; high cheek-bones; shifting, dark-gray eyes, with
ever and anon a greenish cast to them; pointed chin; hair
jet-black, curly and worn rather long; the complexion pale;
the eyebrows heavy, and two deep wrinkles between them;
the teeth very white, and the lips very thin and bloodless.
It was the face of a student, one who had spent vigils long,
burning the midnight oil, and poring into the lore of sages
long since returned to the dust from which they sprung.
His hands, too, would go far as evidence to prove that he
toiled with brains alone, for they were as white as the taper
fingers of a school-girl—long and slender hands, exceedingly
well taken care of, too, hands to be proud of, if the owner
took pride in his personal appearance.

The face of this person was cleanly shaven and really
showed little more traces of a beard than the face of a boy
of fifteen.

Only one other peculiarity about the man worth mention-
ing, and that was a fashion he had of wearing his glossy silk
hat tilted rakishly over his right eye.

Tf it had not been for this, he would have easily passed
for a minister of the gospel, but the one failing betrayed to
the man of the world, used to the tribe, that the pale-faced
gentleman was indeed a student, but that it was cards and

_ the mysteries of the ‘“‘ green-cloth ” that he had studied, and
J g

 
  

 

 
   

22 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

his principal occupation in his silent hours was an endeavor
to deal from the bottom of the pack without detection, vr,
in shuffling, to slip the top cut under the lower one befure
the eyes of witnesses, and yet do it so deftly that it would
escape observation, and no snap of the cards coming togetiier
betray the “ pass.”

Andrew Jackson Hardin, late of the State of Kentucky,
and commonly termed by his intimate friends “‘ Kentuck ”—
the slender gentleman in black that we have just described—
was about as skiliful and unprincipled a “ blackleg” as ever
the State of California had the misfortune to harbor.

Happening to be in Yreka just about the time of the set-
tlement of Cinnibar City, he was one of the first “sporting”
gentlemen to visit it, and perceiving that the place was likely
to amount to something, he had had a shanty built and had
started a faro bank.

A dead sure thing Kentuck had, whether the mines paid
or not; he was bound to “corral” all the loose stamps float-
ing around.

Entering the doorway, Hardin proceeded up the first flight
of stairs, In the entry above, a small sign informed him
that Mr. Congleton’s office was No. 6 on the floor above.

Kentuck went at once to No. 6, and entered the room
without any ceremony, ‘There, seated by the window, per-
using a newspaper, was a heavily-built man, forty-five or
thereabout, with a broad, stolid face, the chin covered by a
scanty beard, of a tawny hue, like in color to the short hair
that grew up, brash and rough, from his head.

The man was heavy and coarse in appearance, both in
figure, face and dress, except that the long, half-closed gray
eyes which glistened beneath the protruding brows were keen
and cunning. =

Hosa Congleton was what might be termed a Western
Yankee. Originally frofa Connecticut, he had emigrated to
Ohio when quite a young man, then to Missouri, and finally
to California. By profession he was a speculator, dabbled a
little in mining stocks, and was looked upon by those. that
had business transactions with him as being a hard, sharp
man, but not a particularly honorable one; he was reputed
to be wealthy, and in stock operations he had been quite suc-

  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 

 

 

 

 

   

A DRUG IN THE. MARKET.
eessful since operating in Frisco. To sum up his character
in a word, a Californian would have termed him ‘‘a sharp.”

Congleton looked up from his newspaper, glanced over the
person of his visitor in some little astonishment, and waited
to hear what he had to say.

‘“Mr. Congleton, I presume?” Kentuck observed, with ex-
treme politeness, removing the glossy beaver from his cure-
fully oiled locks.

“Yes, sir; that is my name.”

‘Permit me to give you my card,” and Kentuck passed
the bit of pasteboard into the hand of the other.

‘““A. Jackson Hardin,” said Congleton, half to himself,
reading the inscription upon the card. ‘' Sit down, sir,” and
he nodded to the only other chair in the room.

Kentuck aecepted the invitation at once.

Congleton looked inquiringly at his visitor, as much as to
ask him to explain his business.

“You deal a little in stocks, I believe, Mr. Congleton,”
Hardin said.

‘Yes, sir, I do.”

*T suppose you stand ready to buy any stock you see a
chance to make money out of?”

“Yes, sir.” Congleton was sparing of words; he wished
his visitor to come to the point.

“By the way, Mr. Congleton, I forgot to mention it be-
fore: ’'m from Cinnabar City, Siskigon county,” Kentuck
said, abruptly.

‘Ah, yes; I know the place; that is where the Cinnabar
Company have their mine.”

“Exactly; and, by the way, would you like to buy some

shares of the Cinnabar Company’s stock?”

“No, sir; don’t want it!” exclaimed Congleton, abruptly.
“Pve got more of the Cinnabar stock on my hands now than
I want.”

“Ts that possible?” and Kentuck pretended to be petits
surprised.

“Yes, sir; Cinnabar stock i is a drug in this market.”

“Perhaps you would like to sell the stock of the Cinnabar
Company that you have on hand,” Kentuck suggested.
Congleton shut up his left eye in a peculiar way he had

  
 

 

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
    
  
 
 
    

24 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

when meditating deeply, and looked at the gentleman in
black for a moment. He was just a little bit puzzled. Ken-
tuck didn’t look much like a stock-broker.

“Well,” he said, after quite a little pause, ‘‘ I suppose that
I would be willing to sell at a fair offer.”

‘‘ How many shares?”

§ Ten.”

“Pll give you two thousand dollars, payable in sixty
days.”

Again Congleton shut his left eye and stared at his visitor.

“‘May I ask how long it is since you left Cinnabar City?”
he said, slowly.

“Just got in this morning—came straight from there.”

‘You rather astonish me,” Congleton observed, thought-
fully; “if you come from Cinnabar City you must be posted
in regard to the mine.”

“‘T reckon I am,” Kentuck replied, with perfect uncon-
cern.

*“You know that the canal is broken—that the stamps are

‘not heavy enough to work the ore for a profit—that the

blanket system is a mistake there, however well it may work
in Grass Valley?”

‘‘T know all about it, and I know that I can go into the
open market and buy the shares that I offer you two hund-
red dollars apiece for for about sixty odd.”

‘““ Yes, the shares have dropped fifteen dollars since the
last report. When the truth got out about the canal and the
stamps, and*that it would take about ten thousand dollars to
start things again, it fell instantly. It’s the directors now
who are ‘‘bulling” the market and keeping the price where
it is. We have got the ten thousand dollars, but I have been
appointed a special agent to visit the mine and report
whether it will be worth while to put more money into it
or whether to let the thing drop.”

‘Sport, if you will go in with me, I'll show you the big-
gest operation that you ever heard of!” Kentuck exclaimed,
suddenly, extending his thin, white hand and laying it on
the speculator’s knee.

’

   

 

Dl pene a

 
 

 

: yg =

 

  

SUPERINTENDENT AND FOREMAN.

OFT EAR *i-V
VIRGIN GOLD.

Sranpine a hundred feet or so from where the souunern
current of the Shasta had been diverted into the canal of the
Cinnabar Company were the two prime movers in the enter-
prise, Richard Talbot, Superintendent, and William Brown—
more generally termed Billy Brown—Foreman of the mine.
~ Five years have wrought but little change in Injun Dick’s
handsome features, and any one who had met him during his
sojourn in the Spur City region as depicted in the pages of
“ Overland Kit,” or among the hills and valleys near the
Humbug Bar, in the Wisdom river locality, as told in the
story of ‘‘ Rocky Mountain Rob,” could not have failed to
recognize the ex-road-agent and ex-man-hunter at the first
glance. The only change perceptible in the man was that
here and there amid his dark locks a stray gray hair might
be detected, not so much a sign of years as of the terrible
dangers through which he had passed. -=

~- Brown, his companion, was a yellow-bearded, yellow:
haired, gray-eyed giant, with a face as round as the moon, as
pleasant as a young girl’s smile, and yet with a certain air of
determination lurking in it, which plainly told of an iron wiil
that no obstacle could turn from its way, and no danger could
shake.

The workmen were busy at the canal, giving the finishing
touches to the repairs. .

A motley crew, the men with picks, axes, shovels! A Chi-
naman side by side with the graduate of the English Eton
college, who, to use the phrase of his countrymen, was
“down on his back,” and seeking a new fortune far from his
native land; a son of the Emerald Isle, fresh from his native
bogs, and the absconding cashier of a New York bank;
prison-birds and broken, honest men side by side.

“ Now we're bout ready for work agin!” Brown exclaimed,
slapping his partner heartily on the back.

 

  
   
 

 

|
|
i
5
|

 

26 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

* Yes, glad of it, too,” Talbot answered, in a thoughtfui
sort of way; ‘but I tell you what, Brown, I’d give a dollar
to know where we are going to get the money to pay the
hands! There’s about two thousand dollars due them, next
Saturday.” :

“Don’t you s’pose the directors in Frisco will pony up?”

“Tm a leetle doubtful,” Talbot replied. ‘‘The special
agent that they are going to send up to investigate the condi-
tion of things should get here within the next three days. It
he is a sensible man he can not help making such a report
as will bring the money. In fact, from the letter of the pres-
ident, | should infer that this special agent is really invested
with the power to pay the money right over if he is satisfied
that everything is all right.”

“‘ Suppose that we shouldn’t get the money?” Brown said.

“T reckon we'll have trouble then,” Talbot replied, tersely.
“We've got some ugly customers among the hands.”

“Yow re right, by hookey!” Brown exclaimed, ‘‘and, from
what I heard, I think some of the galoots in the town are
putting the hands up to be ugly.”

~~ Talbot’s brows contracted just a little bit.

“They had better not try that,” he said, quietly.

“You see, pard, the ‘sharps’ ain’t over ait above friendly
to us because we've done all we could to keep our men away
from their places, and then this king-pin of the spony ‘Ken-
tuck,’ as they call him, has got a grudge ag’in’ you.”

“So:I understand, though I can’t comprehend the reason

+ “for ated

© Dick, Pll spit it right out!” Brown exclaimed, bluntly;

é 45 you should ‘pass in your checks’ suddenly, I reckon he'd

ty to marry your widder.”

Just a single flash of fire came from the eyes of Injun
Dick, and then he spoke quietly and calmly, as was usual
with him.

‘‘Tf the fellow knows what is good for him, he’ll keep his
eyes away from me and mine. But enough of that. It
makes me angry when I think of the possibility that this rep-
tile should dare to cast his eyes upon my wife.” ~

“Po change the subject,” said Brown, abruptly, ‘‘ suppose
the company won’t come down, and the men strike?”

 

 
R

 

 

 

   

A TRYST. 27

“T have thought of that and have been devising means to
meet the crisis.”

‘“ You won’t give up the mine?”

“Not a give,” replied Dick, tersely.

“Bully for you!” cried Brown, emphatically. ‘‘ Tm with
you, old man!”

Talbot consulted the little silver watch he wore

‘“‘Tt’s later than I thought,” he said, in surprise. ‘‘ I must
be off. I’ve an appointment at noon. I'll be back before
night.”

Brown looked a little astonished as Talbot hurried away up
the stream.

““Thunder! I wonder if he’s on the same trail that I
struck?” Brown exclaimed.

Walking with the long, springy stride peculiar to him, and
which covered a deal of ground, Talbot soon left the settle-
ment behind and entered the canyon. At the upper end of
the long, dark ravine an Indian trail struck off into the wil-
derness, leading apparently straight to the peak of the Shasta,

Talbot followed the trail for a half-hour or more, and then
coming to a second path crossing the first, entered upon it,
and in twenty minutes more was at the river’s side again.

He was in a little valley hemmed in on all sides by the huge
lava rocks and the forest wilderness, except where the stream
entered and departed from it.

The Shasta was here only a mountain torrent, pools, rapids
and shallow reaches, reflecting in its waters the images of the
giant rocks that reared their heads aloft on every side.

Talbot cast a hasty glance around, It was evident that he
expected some one, but his eyes fell only upon the sparkling
waters and the lava rocks, fringed with pine, cedar, and juni-
per, while, a few miles.to the south-east, great Mount Shasta, j
like a guardian genius, surveyed the scene.

“Tam too soon or else I have been tricked,” Talbot mut-
tered, consulting his watch, which marked the time as being
five minutes after twelve. Then he cast a wary glance
around and examined the revolvers which were strapped to
his waist under the coat. He had little dread of danger
though, for the Indian had learned to held the bearded white
man in dread, and rarely attempted an attack except by night

  
    

 

fas

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

and in overwhelming numbers. Their savage weapons were
weak indeed against the fire-arms of the invader.

No sign or sound that denoted danger could Talbot see or
hear.

“TI wait,” he muttered, as he seated himself upon a pro
jecting rock; ‘‘something may have occurred to detain my
friend.”

Scarcely were the words uttered, when, bounding down the
rocks at the upper end of the little valley, came a light, grace-
ful form, clad in the costume of an Indian boy, in years ap-
parently not over twelve; very light in complexion, although
the hideous black and yellow paint which disfigured the face
almost concealed that fact.

So light were the footsteps of the Indian and so quick the
motion, that a squirrel descending this lava stair-way of na-
ture could not have been more noiseless.

Talbot rose to receive the Indian.

‘““My brother is late,” he said, speaking in the Indian
tongue in which he was well versed, from long acquaintance-
ship with the mountain red-men, and surveying the face of
the youth with considerable curiosity.

“‘Wallae come when the sun is highest—it is full high
now—then go straight behind the rocks, there,” and the In-
dian pointed to the distant peaks of the coast range.

Talbot comprehended that possibly his watch was fast.

““My brother’s name is Wallae?”

“Yes, Wallae—friend, in Shasta language.”

‘* And you will be a friend to the white man?”

The Indian bowed his head gravely.

‘Is my little brother on the war-path that he paints his
face?” Talbot asked.

‘“No war-path,” responded the youth, evidently confused;
then he thrust his hand into the embroidered pocket that
hung by his side and produced a lump of virgin gold, five
ounces at least in weight. ‘‘ See, me know where plenty gold
live.”

Talbot examined the gold in astonishment. The mountain
“pocket” from which it had come must be a rich one.

“‘And you will show me where you procured this lump of
gold?” Talbot asked.

 

 
et

 

 

 

A CHANCE FOR A BIG STRIKE, 29

** Maybe,” replied the Indian, evasively.

“Tt is in the Indian country?”

“Yes, two only of the Shasta tribe know where, the chief,
Hee-ma-Nang-a—”

“And yourself.”

““Yes, for the blood of the Sun-King is in my heart,” the
Indian said, proudly, pointing aloft to the sun.

“You are the son of the chief?” Talbot asked, but be-
fore the Indian could answer the question, the shrill hoot of
the great horned owl resounded on the air. Talbot grasped
his revolvers; he guessed the meaning of the sound only too
well, for, at the signal, each cresting rock bore an Indian
warrior, and high over the rest, on a lava throne, stood Koo-
chue (the Hog), the great chief of the McClouds and the
deadly enemy of the white settlers of Cinnabar.

CHAPTER: NV.
** BEARING ” THE MARKET.

Congleton indulged in a good, long look at his visi-
if studying Kentuck’s face to discover aught there,
‘as well have stared at the wall.
ypose you explain what the operation is?” the specu-
lator suggested, ‘‘ and then I can talk to you.”

‘You want to understand the little game, eh?”

Congleton nodded.

‘“That’s square!” Kentuck exclaimed; ‘‘now just keep
your eyes open and I'll show you the biggest chance for
a big strike there is this day on the Pacific slope. You
are posted about the Cinnabar Company—who holds the
stock, etc.”

‘Yes, as well posted as any man in town.”

‘‘Let me see! there’s about five hundred shares worth at
par a hundred dollars apiece, isn’t there?”

‘Exactly five hundred.”

“Suppose two or three hundred should be forced on the
market with orders to realize at any price, what would be
the effect?”

 
 

30 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Knock the stock ’way down to almost nothing; the di-
rectors are holding it at sixty now, and if any stray shares
come into the market they pick ’em up at that price.”

“« And if you go up and find things are bad, you will pro-
bably try to realize on the ten shares of stock that you hold,
before the fact gets out?”

“That is possible,” Congleton said, cautiously.

““To come right down to the point, you fellers that are
bolstering the stock up will get right out if you find that the
mine is played.”

“* Now, really, you must see that it is not possible for me
to answer such a question!” Congleton exclaimed, a little as-
tonished that his visitor should possess such an intimate
knowledge of the ideas of the president and directors of the
company.

“Well, sport, you needn’t go to Cinnabar City!” Ken-
tuck said, in his peculiar, abrupt way. ‘‘ The mine is all
hunky. I ought to know. I run the Occidental saloon
there, and I reckon I’m posted. I ain’t no miner myself,
and couldn’t tell ‘pay dirt’ from the ‘ bed-rock,’ but I know
a cuss that can break the bank in that line, every time, and
what he knows I know. The thing is all right. If the
company forks over the ten thousand dollars it will run, in
fact, I reckon it will run anyway. Here’s two thousand dol-
lars—Wells, Fargo & Co.’s receipt for the dust; so jes’ trans-
fer the ten shares over and I'll git.” Kentuck held the re-
ceipt in his thin, white fingers and flourished it before the
eyes of the speculator.

Congleton, though, seemed in no hurry to deliver the shares.
He regarded Kentuck attentively for a moment, his eyes half-
closed: as usual.

‘‘See here, my friend!” he exclaimed, suddenly, ‘if the
shares are worth two hundred apiece to you, why they must
be worth that to me, soI guessI won’t sell; but what is your
game anyway offering three times what you can buy the shares
for, in the open market?”

“Because in sixty days they’ll be worth two hundred;
that’s only my opinion, of course, but I back it up with two
thousand dollars in dust; a man can’t talk plainer than when
he backs his words with the solid stuff.”

 
we

A LITTLE FIGURING. 81

‘Yes; but why do you come and tell me this?” Congleton
asked; ‘‘ why don’t you go into the market and pick up your
shares at the market price?”

“Because I’m after a bigger strike than to make a few
hundred dollars on shares,” Kentuck replied, coolly. ‘I
propose to go into partnership with you and to buy out the
stockholders of the Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company.”

The speculator took a good, long look at the cool-headed
individual who so carelessly proposed to assume the responsi-
i) bility of a great mining company.

‘Have you any idea how much it would cost to carry out
the little scheme you speak of?” Congleton asked.

‘‘Let me see! five hundred shares at sixty each would
come to about thirty thousand dollars,” replied Kentuck, tak-
ing a pencil from his pocket and figuring out the sum on the
back of an envelope.

‘A leetle more than that,” said Congleton, ‘‘for, as you
commenced to absorb the shares, naturally you would pro-
duce a demand for them, and then people would begin to in-
quire who was buying them up, and then they would inves
tigate the condition, present and prospective, of the mine,
and if the things looked well the shares would go up.”

‘Tf they get the ten thousand dollars up at Cinnabar, the
mine, with the new machinery, will work the ore they have
on hand at a profit of about a dollar a ton.” :

“How can that be?” demanded Congleton; ‘‘the last ore
only produced about six dollars worth of gold to the ton, and
the expense of raising and milling were at least ten dollars per
ton.”

“They had about used that ore up when the mill broke;
and the fresh ore will pan out ten to eleven dollars per ton.
You see, sport, I had a leetle curiosity on the subject, so I
had a galoot lift some of the ore one dark night, and try it;
and with the new machinery, maybe, it will do better than
that.”

‘But even that product will not send the stock up to two
: hundred.” f :
B “Well, I’m betting two thousand dollars that in less than
‘ a month the mill will be working ore almost as rich as when
she first started. They’ve struck a big ‘lead’ in the tunnel

eterna

 

 

e
SA
a

 
 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

but they haven’t commenced to work it yet. You sce, sport,
I had that ore sampled, too.”

Congleton began to realize that he had got hold of a cool
hand,

“Tf what you say be true, it seems to me that the moment,
this gets out, the Cinnabar stock won’t be for sale at all,” the
speculator remarked. ;

“That’s so,” Hardin ejaculated; “and, rocks, you couldn’t
buy the hundred shares that Talbot and Brown hold at any
price ; they believe in the mine, and will spend their last cent
before they throw up their cards.”

“ How can we buy up the shares, then, supposing I thought
favorably of your partnership idea?”

“We must play a bluff game,” said Kentuck; ‘‘ you must
go up to Cinnabar, examine the mine, and report that you
think the ten thousand will fix things all right. Thecompany
planks down the ducats, the machinery goes in—goes to work
ag’in and breaks. You call upon the company fer five or ten
thousand more; it’s a hundred to one that they won’t ‘ ante’
up, then down goes the stock to nothing; we quietly corral it
all, start the mill again, and make the biggest strike ever
known in the north. I reckon instead of paying sixty for the
stock, we can get it for about twenty, or perhaps less.”

Congleton reflected for a moment.

“T think that it would not be wise to put the new machin-
ery in, because we might not be able to arrange the break all
right. The idea is to get the ten thousand dollars, buy the
machinery, but not to put it in. Can we fix matters with this
Talbot, the superintendent of the works?”

‘‘Nary fix, [ reckon,” replied Kentack, tersely. “He and
Brown have got to be got out, some way.”

“We might buy their shares.”

“They won’t sell, sport; the fact is, we have got to bu’st
the concern all up, and run those two men out before we can
make the strike. I reckon I can attend to that. Iowe this
Talbot a leetle grudge, and mebbe I wouldn’t have thought of
this ten-strike if I hadn’t been Planning how to get square
with him.”

“The scheme does look plausible,” the speculator said,
thoughtfully. “‘ The mine is in pretty bad odor, now. There
have been so many wild-cat concerns up in that region, that
the capitalists are afraid of all of them. If there should be
any more trouble in regard to the mine, the men who arenow
keeping the credit of the company up, would be apt to try to
get out at almost any sacrifice.”

“Then our game is just as plain as can be!” Kentuck ex-
claimed. ‘‘ Get the ten thousand dollars locked up in new
machiuvery, then start the mill, and contrive to bu’st her ag'’in.
_ Jest as soon as the news that she’s stopped working reaches

 
 

 

CHIEF AND SLAVE. Bd

Frisco, fling your shares and mine on themarket; I own ten,
and with your ten, that makes twenty. Give out that you’re
disgusted, and quit the game. Even twenty shares, right on
the heels o. the bad news, forced toa sale, will be apt to
break the price; and if some fifty-share fellar gets frightened
and looses his grip, we’re hunky to buy in at our own price.”

“Tl take a look at the mine, and then Pll give you an an-
swer,” Congleton said.

“‘Rocks! youll go in with me; it’sa hundred to one!”
Kentuck said.

CHAPTER VI.
KOO-CHUE, THE HOG.

A STRANGE and startling tableau that picture in the little
valley of the Shasta.

Thirty Indian warriors perched like statues upon the lava-
crags, gayly decked with the war-paint and fully armed with
the weapons of their race, and some few of them with the
death-dealing fire-arms of the white-man.

Talbot, the cocked revolver im his hand, ready to sell his
life dearly, and the young Indian, weaponless, yet fearlessly
upright, facing the great McCloud chief as though he came
with the green boughs of peace, rather than with the shout of
war and the weapons of destruction.

And the great chieftain of the warlike McClouds, too, a
monarch with the lion’s mien, claiming descent from the sun-
god, ruler of the western world, whose everlasting flame had
burned for aye upon the altar reared of quartz and gold to
mighty Tonatin. The rifle of the bearded pale-face the chief-
tain held within his hand; the leopard-skin fell from his
broad shoulders, massive ornaments of red gold adorned his
wrists, and the claws of a grizzly bear, the Sierra’s lord, were
strung in a necklace around his finely-chiseled throat.

A single glance Talbot gave, and at once perceived: that
there was no immediate danger.

Not a red savage of the McClouds was within rifle-range,
except the chief, and he bore his weapon calmly in his hand,
the hammer down. : :

“*Tt is the red McClonds!” exclaimed the young Indian.

“Friends of yours?” asked Talbot, suspiciously.

‘*The blood of the Shasta tribe is in the heart of Wallae,”
replied the youth, proudly; “the Shastas were chiefs when
the McClouds groveled in the dust as slaves. Long time ago,
in the red plains of the south, the McClouds burned in the
sun, while the Shastas lived in the shade, so the Shasta people
are yellow like gold, and the McClouds red as the copper. No
friendship between the chief and the slave.”

Talbot was fully satisfied that the boy spoke the truth, al-

 
 

 

 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

though his first thought was that he had been cunningly lured
into the hands of the Indians.

“Is not yonder warrior the head chief of the McClouds?”
he asked.

“Yes, Koo-chue, the hog,” the Indian replied—his face ex-
pressing the contempt he felt for the McCloud chief.

Talbot thought that he recognized the warrior, although he
had never seen him except in the heat of battle. He under-
stood at once that he was in a position of great peril; for
what could one do against a host, even with the advantage of
weapons?

And as Talbot was vainly striving to devise some plan to
escape from the danger that surrounded him, the McCloud
chief, high up on thelava-rock, suddenly waved his hand, and,
at the signal, each Indian brave instantly vanished from
sight. Talbot could hardly believe his eyes; one moment a
score and more of the red-skinned foes, crowning each point
of vantage, weapons in their hands, and the instinct of blood
strong in their faces, and then, nothing but the naked lava-
rocks, the one chief, and the nodding tops of the pine, cedar
and juniper!

But that the McCloud chief still kept his position, the cool
and hardy superintendent of the Cinnabar Company would
almost have believed that he had been dreaming while awake.

The stern chief of the McClouds though, with his iron-like
face, massive limbs, and warrior bearing, was visible proof
that danger still threatened the white man.

When the eyes of Talbot again turned toward the chief,
after noting the disappearance of his warriors, Koo-chue
beckoned to the white, as if inviting him to a conference.
The Indian cast. down the rifle upon the rock, drew the long,
glittering scalping-knife from his belt of untanned leather,
and the tomahawk from its resting-place beside it, and placed
them upon the flinty stone to bear the rifle company.

Then down from his crested peak, unarmed, he came; he
plucked a branch of the juniper and bore it along in his strong
right hand as a signal that he eame on a peaceful quest.

““The chief would speak,” the Indian boy said.

“T fear some treachery,” Talbot observed, doubtfully.

“Fear not; Koo-chue would not break the sign of peace
even to slay his deadliest foe. Not a brave in his band but
would despise the act.” Firmly and decidedly the Indian
spoke, and his tone carried conviction with it,

The McCloud chief advanced until he came within « hun-
dred feet of where Talbot and the Indian boy stood, and then
he paused, extended his arms as if to indicate his defenseless
condition, then waited for the white to advance.

Talbot, distrustful, hesitated at first 10 leave his weapons
in charge of the Indian boy; a dim suspicion was in his mind
that, perhaps all this was but a ruse to deprive him of his

 
 

   
 
  

A CONUNDRUM. 33

weapons and so take his life without a struggle; but a glance
into the face of the youth and he dismissed the thought as
unworthy of belief. Then the idea occurred to him that,
while he advanced to meet the chief, some of his followers,
snake-like, might manage under cover of the rocks to ap-
proach near enough to capture the weapons by a sudden
dash. He resolved not to trust to the honor of the Indian.
Clinking the htmmers of the revolvers down, he thrust them
?back into their holsters beneath the skirts of his coat, and, ex-
tending his arm in imitation of the manner of the savage,
he advanced to meet him.

Koo-chue, with a frowning brow, noticed that the white
man did not lay aside his weapons, but he manifested no fear
and kept bis position.

Talbot came within six feet of the chief and there he halted.

Curiously each surveyed the other.

The McCloud chief was the first to speak.

“The pale chief does not trust to the honor of the red-
man,” he said, an expression of contempt apparent upon his
dusky features. “The McCloud chief comes weaponless to
talk to his white brother.”

“You seek the conference, not I,” Talbot replied. “ You
are surrounded by your warriors, Iam alone, and upon your
ground.”

** Does the white chief acknowledge that the Indians own
any thing?” asked the warrior, scornfully, ‘‘ or is it because
the valley is so rough that the pale-face can not scratch in the
earth like a rabbit?”

“Ts this what you wanted to say to me?” Talbot ques-
tioned, in his cool way, ‘‘ because it seems to me, that if it
is, you have taken a great deal of trouble for nothing.”

“The chief will speak now,” the Indian replied, shortly.
‘*The white man is alone, far from his people; what is his
life worth surrounded by the warriors of the McCloud?”

“That’s a conundrum, chief,” Talbot replied, and both his
words and the smile upon his lips puzzled the Indian.

‘* The red-man can not understand his white brother—can
he not answer the question ?”

‘“ Well, Pll try,” Dick said in his quiet way. “In the val-
ley, in a fair fight, my life is worth at least twelve McCloud
braves, and if I suecéed in breaking through the line and
reach the cover of the timber, I reckon it’s worth thirty lives
at least.”

“My brother talks big, but words do not all,” the Indian
remarked, shrewdly; ‘‘the rifle of the chief will send a ball
through the heart of the white man before he can fire his lit-
tle gun twice.” ;

“The only way tosettle it is to find out ; so step back, chief,
and raise the war-cry for the fight to commence!”

Talbot had been in and escaped from too many dangers 40

 
SSS

i
|
;

 

 

   
 

= See

 

36 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

be frightened by words, and he knew full well, too, that the
chief had desired to speak with him for some other purpose
than mere bravado.

“The warriors of the McCloud will not take the life of the
white chief, if he will do as he is bid,” the chief said, lower-
ing his voice almost to a whisper.

“What must I do?” Talbot demanded, astonished at the
speech.

“Go straight from the valley to the smoke of your own
lodges.”

Suddenly, Talbot thought he comprehended the Indian’s
scheme.

‘** And the Indian boy ?”

“ No boy—girl !” responded the warrior, laconically.

Talbot was not prepared for this information.

““Are you not wrong? His nameis Wallae—Friend, in the
Indian language.”

“Yes, Wallae—Her, too, in Shasta tongue.”

“And it is a girl?”

** Yuet-a—Moon, the flower of the Shastas!”

 

CHAP PRRs.
THE FIGHT.

TaBor was decidedly astonished at this information, for
he was well aware that the Indians of the Shasta race were
fully as hostile to the whites as any of the northern tribes,
and yet a daughter of that race had sought him with intent
to reveal the treasure-house of nature where the golden grains
were stored. Keen-sighted, quick-witted Injun Dick was
puzzled. He could assign no reason for the girl’s conduct.

“Does my white brother believe the McCloud chief?” the
warrior asked.

““Why should you deceive me?” Talbot replied, evasively.

“ Koo-chue does not lie when the truth will do as well,”
the savage said, a candid confession which rather surprised

Talbot, who had been used to dealing with the Indians east,

of the Sierra Nevada chain, an entirely different race from the
tribes of California, descendants of the ancient Mexicans, the
followers of Montezuma. 5

“ Yuet-a is the sister of the great chief of the Shasta tribe,
Hee-ma Nang-a,” continued the warrior; ‘she is the sun-
light of the North. Koo-chue is a big brave; once the Mc-
Clouds feared to tread in the hunting-grounds of the Shastas
and the Tonatons, and the Sacramentos—on the north, the
first two; on the south, the last—between the two the war-
riors of the McCloud were ground to pieces like corn between
the stones in the hands of a squaw. Now, the Sacramentos

 

 

 

 
DICK’S ANS VER. 87

mount their mustangs and fly like the wind when Koo-chue

leads the McClouds with the spring-waters down the river to .
the big valley, and the warrgs of the north run like the
bears to their caves when the war-cry of the fuvored sons
of Ytzaqual rises on the mountain side. Koo-cliue would
kill the bearded warrior but fears that Yuct-a may be
harmed.”

“Tn short, you spare me that you may obtain the girl,

“My brother speaks wisely,” the chief replied.

** And if I refuse the offer?”

‘* My bearded brother will not refuse, for life is sweet even
} to the reptile that crawls on the earth,” the wily Indian an-
swered.

“But if Ido?” persisted Talbot.

“Then my brother will never see the white smoke of his
lodges again. His bones will whiten here by the side of the
river, and his scalp will dry and blacken in the teepee of a
McCloud warrior!” the chief exclaimed proudly, his eyes
flashing and chest swelling.

’ “First the McClouds must win the scalp, and before it is
won, many a brave will need to have the death-song sung, to
* smooth his passage to the happy hunting-grounds.”

Just a single instant the savage looked into the eyes of the
white, but in that instant he read the answer to his offer.

“My brother refuses?”

“ Yes. »

‘*The Shastas are not my brother’s friends; why should he
Concern himself in a matter that is nothing to him?” the In-
dian very naturally asked.

“Thut is my affair,” Talbot replied, shortly. ‘“ You have
my answer, chief. Either the girl goes free with me, or else,
Single-handed, I’ll fight your warriors. Remember, too, if I
fall by the hands of the McClouds, my comrades down the
Tiver will most terribly avenge my death,”

“Some day the McUlouds will kill all the white men to-
ether,” replied the chief, loftily; then he turned upon his
eel and strode away.

Talbot returned at once to the Indian girl. Motionless as

_ One of the bowlders she had remained, while the conference
é had been.in progress between the white and the savage.

When Talbot reached the side of the girl he cast a hasty
glance around. No sign of a foe could he see, excepting the
tall figure of the McCloud chief ascending the defile.

 

 

e “The chief tells me that you are Yuet-a, a daughter of the
- | Shasta tribe,” Talbot said.

# “Tt is true.”

* Why did you deceive me by assuming to be a boy?”

af ‘The white chief would not have listened to the words of
x } 8irl, nor have followed her counsel,” she replied.

“The McCloud chief has offered to let me go free—?

 
 

 

a}

Hh
i]
|
i
tf
RY
i

Ee

   

 

38 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“And leave Yuet-a a prisoner in the hands of the man she
hates?” the Indian girl exclaimed with vehemence.

“You dislike the chief?” ;

“The child of the eagle mates not with the hawk,” she an-
swered, disdainfully.

‘SAud the chieftain would make you his squaw?”

The girl did not reply, but the look of disgust upon her face
convinced Talbot that he had guessed rightly.

“Well, weynust fight them, for 1 have refused to go with-
out you,” and as he spoke, Talbot drew one of the revolvers
from its holster. :

With a calm face, but beaming eyes, the girl looked upon
him, as he glanced around to note the positions of the foe.

Not a living thing was in sight, and yet Talbot knew that
the warriors of the red McCloud were lurking near, concealed
behind the lava rocks, and that at each moment he might ex-
pect to hear the whiz of arrows flying through the air, or the
sharp crack of the more deadly fire-arm.

“You are familiar with the valley; what course shall we
take to escape from this trap?” Talbot asked. ‘‘ We can not
remain here, for the red braves are certainly closing in upon
us, taking advantage of the concealment afforded by the
a The moment they are within range they will open

re.

“We must go down the valley,” the girl answered,rapidly.
“Tf we can gain the canyon at the lower end, we shall be
safe, for within the defile one man can beat off a hundred,”

A hurried glance Talbot took of the locality indicated by
the girl. ’Twas five hundred yards or so from the spot on
which the two stood to where the canyon reared its dark
walls three hundred feet or more straight to the sky, hem-
ming in the river to a little narrow passage scarce fifty feet
in width.

Half-way between the little open space whereon Talbot and
the Indian girl stood and the entrance to the dark canyon
was a rocky ledge, four or five feet high, and as regularly
formed as though built by a mason’s cunning hand. Behind _
the ledge some of the Indians had been concealed; how many,
Talbot could not remember, but four or five at the least, he
was certain. The ground from where he stood to tle wall of.
rock was tolerably clear, but beyond the ledge it was broken
up by rocky spars.

Talbot's qu.ck wits had conceived a plan of action.

“We must make a dash to gain the mouth of the canyon!”
he exclaimed, hurriedly drawing the other revolver from his
belt as he spoke, and cocking it. ‘‘The sudden advance will
undoubtedly surprise the Indians; and there is a chance that
we may escape their arrows. They’ll not stand quiet and

fire at us once I am within revolver range. Follow close oD |

my heels. Now!”

e|

. Ux

the

 

 
 

A HAVEN OF SAFETY. 89

And then, at his topmost speed, a cocked revolver in each
hand, Talbot ran down by the side of the river, heading
straight for the ledge of rocks—straight for the mouth of the
canyon, while the Indian girl followed close behind.

Before Dick had taken six steps, up from their places of
concealment sprung the warriors of the McCloud, all inamaze-
iment at the unexpected action.

Five warriors manned the rocky wall, right between the
fugitives and the canyon’s mouth. Wildly they discharged
their arrows as Talbot and tlie girl came on; but their mis-
siles fell harmlessiy upon the earth, the range short a hundred
yards at least.

Then the angry tones of Koo-chue, the McCloud chief,
came pealing on the clear mountain air, ringing out a com-
mand to charge upon the fugitives.

The braves on the flanks and rear obeyed instantly, but the
five in front hesitated to abandon their rocky rampart, and
Cast, too, anxious glances to the right and left, as if caleulat-
ing the chances of escaping, if they failed to stop the desper-
ate charge of the white foe.

Another flight of arrows, this time the flint-heads tearing
| up the earth even at Txlbot’s feet. And then the revolvers
spoke, for Dick was within range, and the Indians were half
Uncovered, reckless in their excitement,
~ Four shots and two warriors down, the other three in a
Panic-stricken retreat for the shelter of the hillside.

t
CHAPTER VIII.
d . ' ‘TO THE DEATIT.
= A NARROW space betwixt tle gray stone walls that uprear-
ly €d their heads to heaven on either side of the Shasta stream;

id, } ®canyon so dark and deep that neither the piercing beams of

y> _ the midday sun nor the trembling light of the midnighs stars
ng €ver penetrated the gloom that had rested for ages on the bo-
Ol-

Som of the river; a gloomy recess, like to a charnel vault or

i the prison-home of a Jost soul, condemned forever to linger.
| ©n the precincts of the tomb. .

i But the shelter of the dark canyon was to Injun Dick more

nt Welcome than would have been the portals of an earthly para-

 

 

his Ise, for it promised safety from the fierce warriors of the

vill Ted McCloud.

hat dust at the entrance of the canyon the river took a sudden

and | leap down five feet or so, as if in haste to be gathered in the
op | “brace of thé frowning cliffs.

4 Standing ankle-deep in the water, behind the natural breast-
4 Work formed by the rocks, over which the river splashed

See

 
 

iieuneneaaranndate

 

 

 

40 .  KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

with a dull and sullen sound, Talbot and the Indian girl
watched for the approach of the foe.

Weapon in hand, cool and collected, the white man gazed
with an earnest glance up the stream and over the open
space, where, but a moment before, in nature’s amphitheater,
tbe lords of the wilderness and the pioneer of civilization had
met in a aeadly strife.

No trace of 2 hostile foe could Talbot see as warily his
keen eyes ranged from rock to rock, and from tree to tree;
and yet he knew that a score or more of painted warriors,
with hearts swelling with rage, to avenge the fate of their
fallen comrades, stricken down by the deadly fire-hail of
their bearded foe, were lurking elese at hand,

The gentle breeze, blowing fresh from great Shasta’s top,
stirred the stiff foliage of the cedars, and. kissed with a soft
and loving touch the leaves of the juniper—just as if nature,
with her calm and smiling face, sought to rebuke the crea-
tures who were so eager for blood and massacre.

Bowlder and beetling cliff, cedar and juniper, sky and river,
but no trace of the living red MeClouds visible to the eyes of
the hunted gold-seeker, who waited so patiently, revolver in
hand, and finger on trigger, for the foe to begin a fresh attack.
The dead braves Jay on the rocks just as they had fallen in
death’s terrible agonies. One huge warrior, all huddled up in
a heap, his head bent down between his knees, as though he
was but resting, and soon might rise and walk again. The
other stretched at full length upon the Java rocks, his face
downward, shot as he had turned to flee, his mouth stained
with gory dust, und a fragment of the rock clutched within
his massive hand, grasped wildly in the parting ecnvulsions
of nature ere life’s spark fled.

“Not one of them in sight!” Talbot muttered, when five
minutes or more had elapsed and no indications of the In-
dians had been given. “Is it possible that they have aban-
doned their project?”

The Indian girl, placing her hand on Talbot’s shoulder,
pointed to the dead warriors in the open space.

Talbot was not slow to guess the meaning of the motion.

“Phe McClouds would not leave their dead men, eh ?”

“The white chief has spoken straight,” replied the girl. ‘‘If

it cost the lives of half his warriors, Koo-chue would not |

leave his dead brothers to be scalped by the pale-face.”

‘**Tt will cost five lives at least, I reckon,” Talbot observed, —
grimly, as he noted the position of the two braves and saw f
how open was the neighborhood of the ground whereon they |

lay. “I wonder what the red fiends are up to?” he con-,

tinued, musingly.. “I fear that this silence means mischief. | ~

Is it possible for a party to get round the canyon and attack
us in the rear?”
The girl shook her head.

 

  

 

 
 

 

A NARROW ESCAPE. 41

*<Tt is many steps to the end, and the rocks are high, and
the thicket so dense that a snake alone may pass. “Koo-chue
and his braves will creep toward us as the fox crawls through
the bushes upon a rabbit.”

Talbot had been glancing about him, noting the lay of the

ground; his eyes resting finally upon the tall sides of the
ravine, a@ thought occurred to him.

“Ts there any path by means of which the Indians can gain
the top of the rocks ana Out the hight fire down upon us?”
he asked.

“No path, but over the rocks and through the bushes, the
way of the mountain sheep.”

‘‘But itis possible for the warriors to get to the sum-
mit ?”

“ Yes, but not to harm us from there?” exclaimed the girl,
quickly. “The distance is too great, and the eye of the eagle
alone can penetrate the darkness of the canyon.”

Satisfied at this answer, Talbot again devoted his entire at-
tention to the open space before him. Quickly his keen eyes
scanned the probable points of the foe’sapproach. But watch
as carefully as he might, no hostile sign could he detect.

And then, just as he was beginning to come to the conclu-
sion that, contrary to savage custom from time immemorial,
the McClouds had abandoned their slain brothers and had re-
treated from the field, the Indian girl clutched him violently
by the arm and pulled him toward her. Not a moment too
s00n was the action, for an arrow, barbed with flint and
hurled with a most dextrous aim, came whizzing through the
air within a foot of Talbot’s head. Had he kept his former
Position it would have pierced his heart. The prompt action
of the Indian girl bad surely saved his life.

Almost before the hard flint of the arrow-head’ quivered
against the rock ledge in the bed of the stream, Talbot’s quick
eyes had detected from whence the shot had come.

High up on the side of the hill, only a hundred yards or so
from the natural redoubt occupied by the fugitives, was a
clump of juniper, hardly Jarge enough apparently to give
Shelter to a carrion crow, and yet a slender and agile brave of
the red McCiouds had, snake-like, wormed a passage along

the hill-side unobserved and gained a sheltered position be-
nd the little clump of bushes and the uprising rocks of the
Narrow ledge.
Above the ledge whereon the savage had secured an am-
ush the rocky wall rose, curving upward thirty feet at least,
elow it the ledge dipped abruptly down to the bed of the
Stream, over which the bushes hung.
_ The Indian, lying at fall length behind the shelving wall.

 Peerine through the leaves of the juniper, was almost as well
rotected from Talbot's fire as if his gayly-painted body had
» %en ineased in iron. -

 
 

 

 

 

-

42 KEXTUCK, THE SPORT.

Talbot, raising his reyolver, took deliberate aim at the pru-
jecting wreck right above the savage and fired.

It was the carom of the billiard table over again, for the
ball, rebounding from the rock, tore its way through the skin
of the red skin, inflicting, though, but a snght flesh wound,
for the force of the ball was spent.

But Talbot’s object was gained, for the savage, with a
how] of rage, half uprose, as if to discover by what miracu-
lous means the white man had managed to wound him in the
rear while firing at his front.

Talbot was not slow to improve the opportunity. Again
the sharp crack of the revolver rung out on the air. A moan
of pain from the stricken McCloud warrior answered the re-
port.

The ball had entered the naked breast of the warrior, just
under the left arm, as he had turned upon his side to gaze at
the rock above him.

A mortal wound, but one not snetanily fatal.

With a yell of defiance the chieftain fitted an arrow to his

bow, and, drawing it to the head, essayed to hurl the flint- s

headed missile upon the daring pale-face below. £
The barbed head quivered for a second against the sinew

of deer with which the bow was strung, then, witha low YD

moan, the nervous arms of the savage relaxed, the arrow sped

into empty space, and the warrior slid from the rocky ledge. h

A last dying clutch he made at the juniper bush; the feeble

branch parted under the weight, and then, with a heavy thud, st

the agile chieftain of the red McClouds came down lifeless to

upon the lava rocks.

A howl of rage came from a score of throats when the light-
limbed McCloud warrior came tumbling down the cliff-side, he
struggling in the agonies of death.

Rising from their hiding-places amid the rocks, and from | Sh
beliind the friendly shelter of the cedar and the juniper, the | Teg
red chiefs discharged a flight of arrows in the direction of the | gre

victorious white man. on
It was but an empty threat, for not a missile came within @| Noy
hundred feet of the canyon’s mouth. lay
* They'll not be apt to send a second brave along that rock- ot

ledge,” Talbot muttered, grimy, as he removed the discharged} 'T
shells from the cylinder r of his revolver and shoved fresh car-| Of t
tridges in their places. é | the

“The white chief is.a great warrior!” exclaimed the Indian | eS
girl, in great admiration. _

Talbot smiled, not so much at the girl’s words, as at the
manner in which she uttered them.

Again the little valley resumed its normal stillness. The
red warriors had retaken their former position, and to tht
eyes of a stranger, Talbot would have OPT to be keeping :
guard only against rags and trees, 7

 

 

 

— came
A SUBTLE CHARM. 43

But, Injun Dick, well acquainted with the wily arts of the
savage, knew that the fierce warriors of the McCloud still
hemmed him in, thirsting for his blood.

“T don’t know but what it would be as well to make a
dash down the canyon,” Talbot murmured, doubtfully, with
a side-way glance at the dark passage behind him,

: “‘The chief should not fly,” the girl said with a proud ac- -
eent. ‘‘ Like the great white bear he should stand and fight
; till his teeth are drawn and his nails are cut.”
‘‘Even the bear may retreat without disgrace if twenty
1 mountain lions surround him,” Talbot said. And as he
1 spoke he was gazing curiously into the proud and handsome

= face of the Shasta queen.
“The chief can kill the McClouds, one by one—they are
not lions, but wolves that can only prowl and snap,” the girl
ut replied, contemptuously,

“ And is that the reason why you will not listen to the suit
of the McCloud chief 2?”
is “Yuet vis the queen of the Shastas; she can not be the
\t- squaw of a chief who is red as the copper ore. She is of the

golden race.”

Ww ‘** Perhaps you favor a chief of your own tribe?” Talbot re-
yw Marked, carelessly.

ed ‘* No,” replied the Indian girl promptly. “ Yuet-a looks

ee. higher still.”

ble “Indeed!” Talbot exclaimed, rather astonished at. the

ud, Strange declaration, ‘“‘and what red warrior do you consider

jess lo be either better or braver than the men of your tribe?”
**No red brave—zhite !” the girl answered, laconically,

rhit-

“Oh, I understand,” and as he spoke, Talbot wondered that
ide, he had not guessed the girl’s meaning before.

“The bearded men are no braver than the warriors of the
rom | Shasta tribe, but they are as cunning as the beaver. The
the | Ted-men can not stand against them, Once the altar fires to
‘the | &reat Yopitone burnt on the rocks where the big water dashes

°n the shore. Many moons ago the white men came, and
iin @| Ow their lodges stand where once the sacred fire leaped and
Played, Now the white comes up the valley of the Shasta.
rock: | oes he not seek the yellow metal which he calls gold ?”
wrged | Talbot nodded assent. Astonished as he was by the words
cate} Of the girl, he still kept a wary eye upon tl.e movements of
} the foe ‘while continuing the conversation.
ndiaB “Yuet-a knows a ‘sink’ in the mountaing where the white
i 4n can walk on the yellow metal.”
nt the} ,, Talbot’s eyes glistened at the very thoughts of such a
} . find ;” even in his present dangerous position there was a
vue} “Ubtle charm in the idea of picking up virgin gold in solid
to thé} Mgzets,

eeping} — “And from that place you procured the specimen that you
| B8Ve to me just before the McClouds attacked us?”

 

 
H 44 . KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Why did you seek the interview with me?” Talbot asked
suddenly ; “ why did you wish to reveal to me the existence
of this wonderful mine ?”

“Ts not the pale-face the great chief of the lodges down
the river?”

“Yes, I am one of the principal men there.”

“And you come to the valley of the Shasta after the yellow
metal?”

“That is our main quest.”

“ And if you had plenty, you would go away ?”

Talbot could not forbear smiling at the eager manner in
which the Indian asked the question. ;

“That is doubtful,” he said; ‘‘it would take a great deal
of gold to satisfy the settlers in Cinnabar City. I am afraid
that the more they got, the more they would want.” |

““Yuet-a can not lie!” exclaimed the girl, suddenly; ‘‘she |:
will talk straight to the pale chief. She is a queen among
her people, and when she speaks she does not speak like the

| ot Cee
{
i
u

wr

 

 

| if daughter of a common chief. Yuet-a knows that her tribe 1
i : can not fight the white men alone, and the Shastas can not {
i } unite with the McClouds. The red warriors must fight the
white men in the white man’s way. Yuet-a has watched the r
HN | lodges of the whites from the trees of the hill-side and she t
| has learned to like their chief. She will give him yellow
Ht | metal enough to fill one of his lodges; he shall give his bro-
Ht | thers what they want and tell them to go away; then he can a
q z come to the Shastas and ask for their queen to come and sing I
i i 1 | in his lodge, and she will be so proud of the great white chief 5
i hI that she will not say him nay, but will make him the lord of
HH FI all the Shasta valley.”
Hy I | With an earnest, sober face the Indian girl delivered her
Hy | speech. It was the welfare of her people that she sought,
H i +} and it was the queenly blood within her veins which told her
i i! } | that for their sake she might cast aside her maiden modesty
i and speak her thoughts freely to the man she fancied.
} Talbot was considerably astonished. At first he felt in- of
| i clined to smile at the proposal, but a glance into the open,
| innocent face of the Indian girl revealed to him how thor lis
| oughly in earnest she was in the matter, and when he cant
to cousider the subject, he was fain to confess that the un- !
| | tutored child of Nature—the feathered, garnished queen of the) fi;.
i i Shasta tribe—had really hit upon _a capital idea if she could re
bie | ' only succeed in carrying it out. Divide and conquer, the old er;
} | device; old since the world was young. 3 Wt tio
; “ Suppose that the white men in the valley refuse to gof} @,
r | Talbot suggested. q I
i “Then the pale king of the red-men can teach his warrior re

how to fight with the fire-guns and drive the strangers away,
replied the girl, spiritedly. Wa

 

 
A TERRIBLE DANGER. 45

It was evident that she had fully calculated the chances
5 that might arise from the situation.
““You have spoken frankly,” Talbot observed, after a mo-

 

ment’s thought, “and I will be as frank with you. In the
5 white lodges down the river I have a squaw, so what you
i speak of can not be.”
The Indian girl hung her haed sadl+ ; the bright vision she
had cherished had suddenly vanished.
av Then upon the air pealed the fierce war-cry of the McClouds.
Talbot waited anxiously for the attack, but after a minute
or so became convinced that the yell was mere bravado.
2 ‘‘The moment the gloom of the night comes, we can easily
ay escupe down the canyon,” he’said, cheerfully.
] . As the words passed his lips, the girl started suddenly from
sid her abstraction and laid her hand upon his arm.
ey ‘Listen !” she cried ; “ there are steps coming up the can-
yon,
she “Surrounded front and rear,” muttered Talbot; “but I’m
nS | not dead yet!”
pe And while with bated breath the two watched and waited
1©'| for the foe in the rear to approach, high up over their heads a
nee terrible danger impended. E
‘Ng _ The wily chieftain of the McClouds with five of his war-
ua Tors had scrambled through the thicket and gained the wall
‘ ‘a that formed the brink of the canyon on the south.
as By the edge was a massive bowlder, a ton at least in weight.
ne With the hatchets the braves had felled a young cedar tree,
cu) and using it as a lever, forced the massive rock over the edge.
hie? own it thundered into the mighty chasm straight for the
4 of Spct whereon stood Talbot and the Indian girl.
| her eo
ight,
het OHAPTER IX.
lesty A REINFORCEMENT,
ie Crear and distinctly sounded the footsteps from the gloom
ee Of the canyon,
ve

With eager earnestness Talbot and the queen of the Shastas
thor} “listened, ~
a “No Indian !” exclaimed the girl suddenly ; ‘‘ white man!”
P Talbot had also arrived at a similar conclusion. After the
of the I's ENP ; y j

St moment of surprise his own good sense told him that a
Ted-skinned foe would have crept up the canyon with all the
Crafty watchfulness of the panther, and that the first. intima-
ton of his presence would have been the sound of the feath-
g* | Sted, barbed arrow flying, bird-like, through the air.
+t was evident that the new-comer was a white man, and
Plain, also, that he had no suspicion of the strange scene that
WAYt!) Was trancnirine - cae

F transpiring at the mouth of the canyon,

 

 
  
   
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
      
 
       
 
  
  

re

 

 

   

46 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“A reinforcement!” Talbot exclaimed.

Then round the little bend in the dark defile came the man
Whose footsteps had at first caused even Talbot’s cool heart
10 beat a trifle quicker.

“This beats snakes!” cried the new-comer, as he halted at
the bend and surveyed Talbot and his companion in great
amazement.

It was Injun Dick’s partner, burly Bill Brown. A rein-
forcement iideed !

Brown was scarcely & hundred yards away ard readily un-
derstood the warning gesture that Talbot made. He saw at
once that there was trouble brewing.

Slowly and cautiously he glided along the side of the can-
yon, keeping close to the wall until he reached the bottom of
the little cascade and stood by Tualbot’s side.

‘* What’s up, Dick, anyway ?” he asked. |

With a single gesture, Talbot directed Brown’s attention to
the bodies of the Indian warriors lying so motionless by the

side of the clear streamlet.
“Thunder and lightning!” exclaimed Brown, “this looks
like business!” ‘
‘‘ There are twenty or thirty more reds concealed behind the
rocks and bushes up yonder,” Talbot said. a
“Friends of this yere tanned young man ?” asked Brown a
with a comical grin, referring to the Indian girl, whose pre- t

 

seiice with Talbot somewhat astonished him.
Yuet-a drew up her light figure as the miner spoke and} ¥Y
looked at him scornfully. She was well enough acquainted | 2
with the language of the white man to understand that Brown |
had not spoken of her in-a very respectful manner. un
“No,” Talbot replied; ‘‘it is Koo-chue, the hog, and his §
McCloud warriors who have given me battle. This is a girl,
not a boy, and she is one of the Shasta tribe.”
“Twenty or thirty of them?’ Brown asked, thought -
ly.
tes.” &
“We might as well retreat then,” and-as he spoke, the vet-|
eran miner heaved a deep sigh; ‘‘ my little speculation has} !€
gone bu’st ag’in. We kin retreat, facing’em, an’ I really} |
reckon that they won’t come within range of our revolvers e 4 ef
they know it. It won’t be healthy for them ef they do.” ’ -
‘There is very little danger of their making a rush against} “8
two of us,” Talbot remarked. “J feared to risk a retreat

 

   

 

    
  

when alone, for they might have attempted an advance if ha
force and perhaps have succeeded in winging me with one of «¢
their arrows.” 4 .

A long, wishful look, Brown gave at the little valley, the -
sivhed mournfully. hi
_“* The promised land for sure, an’ we've got to git up ane =i,

git,” be said, slowly; “mebbe, though, Billie Brown wi

  
 

A LAST EFFORT. 47

prospect through this yere clearin’ yet, afore he passes in his
checks.”

‘* Let us retreat without attracting the observation of the
Indians, if it be possible,’ Talbot suggested.

Cautiously and carefully the three plunged into the gloom
of the canyon.

Not fifty steps had they proceeded, when, with a thunder
like the roar of an avalanche, the enormous bowlder, forced
by the red-men’s sinews over the edge of the canyon, came
crashing down into the bed of the Shasta. By a miracle, al-
most, the three had escaped destruction.

“ The red fiends are at the bottom of that!” Talbot cried as
the sound of the shock died away on the air. ‘‘ Quick, let us
get out of this!”

With eager steps the three hurried on. The Indians did
not pursue; from the position they oceupied they did not com-
Mand a view of the canyon beyond the waterfall, althongh
Talbot had imagined that they could. The McClouds trusted
that both the white man and the Indian girl were crushed
berfeath the bowlder, but they waited for the return of their
chief before daring to proceed to ascertain the truth.

On the three went through the gloom of the deep canyon,
Splashing through the water, stumbling over the roeks, until
at last they came to the end where the stream entered upon
the Shasta valley.

No sound of pursuit had reached their ears, and now they
Were fairly out of danger, for they conhl see the motley build-
Ings of the settlement so widely known as Cinnabar City. If
the McCloud chief had been backed by every red-skin in his
ribe he would not have dared to pursne his prey into the
Shasta valley.

The girl balted as they emerged from the canyon.

“Yuet-a will bid the white chief farewell, now,” she said,
addressing Talbot, and speaking in the Indian tongue. ‘She
Must go to her own people. She is sorry that, the white chief
fan not leave his tribe and dwell with the red-men. He.
Would be a king and could build his lodge of the yellow metat

Mf it pleased him.”

There was a tone of entreaty,in the girl’s voice; one last
fort to wir the pale-face, who had found favor in her eyes
4nd pleased the fancy that. the bravest of the red) warriors
Naud failed to catch.

““It.can not be,” Talbot said, gravely: “the chief already
has q sqnaw with his own people.”

«ue Let her come, too!” exclaimed the Indian girl, suddenly.

She shall be « sister to the queen of the Shuastas, Yuet-n’s
fart is so large, that, for the sake of the white chicf, she will

Share his lodge with another.”

ae untutored daughter of the norihern wilderness was

Ply in earnest.

 
a

 

 

 

~~

 

 

48 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Again Talbot shook his head.

“No, Yuet-a,” he said, “the white squaw would not con-
seni to that. She would not share the chief with any one.”

The Indian girl drooped her head sadly and turned upon
her heel to depart; then a sudden idea came to her, and she
wheeled abruptly around.

‘The white chief is a great man among his people?” she
demanded.

“Ves, one of the great men.”

**T{as he so many friends in his tribe that no white warrior
can wrong him?”

Talbot hardly understood the drift of the question, but re-
plied ‘o it as well as he could.

“Tt is almost impossible to answer that,” he said, honestly,
“but Lthiuk that I have friends who would stand by me in
the hour of danger; this man here is one.”

The girl cast a quick, shrewd glance into the face of Brown,
who stood near by, wondering at the conversation, few words
of which he understood.

‘““He is no snake,” the girl observed, evidently satisfied
that she could read Brown’s character in his face. ‘ The
time may come, though, when the white chief will want
friends—-the yellow metal maybe. Let him come to the
queen of the Shastas and he will find both. He has saved
Yuet-a from the McCloud hog, and she would die for the pale
chief.”

‘You may be far from here when danger threatens me,”
Talbot suggested.

“No!” exclaimed the girl, quickly. “The queen of the
Shastas will watch over the brave white chief as the big
mountain of her tribe, great Shasta, keeps guard over North-

ern California. Each night, when the little fires burn in the |

sky, Yuet-a will stand here beside the river, or, if she can not
come, she will send a trusty messenger instead, one as cun-
ning as the beaver and as wise as the fox. If the chief wishes
to see the Shasta queen, let him come here when the big white
lamp is straight over his head. Let him ask and he shall he
satisfied.’ Then, wheeling abruptly round again, the girl
plunged into the thicket and disappeared from sight. For a
moment the two could hear the sound of her light footsteps,
and then the noise ceased and the silence of the wilderness
ruled supreme. 5
* Well, now !” exclaimed Brown, helping himself to a huge
“chaw of tobacco,” “she’s what I call a reg’lar screamer !”

 

 

 
ww

 

 

BROWN ASTONISHED. 49

CHAPTER X.
THB SECRET MINE.

TALsoT remained motionless as a statue for a minute, gaz-
ing into the dense chaparral, into which the Indian girl had
darted with all the swiftness of a frightened deer, as if he
imagined that he could trace the flying footsteps of the Indian
maid, despite the dense curtain, Nature’s handiwork.

The lips of Injun Dick were tightly compressed, and there
Was a strange expression upon his usually calm face, and, as
the light feet of the Shasta queen penetrated further and fur-
ther imto the thicket, and the sound thereof grew fainter and
fainter, and, at last, ceased altogether, with a half-sigh Tal-
bot seemed to descend from dream-land again to sober earth.

“*T s’pose you didn’t hear me intimate that I considered
that tan-colored young feminine a reg’lar ripper?” Brown
said. He had been watching Talbot’s abstraction with con-
siderable astonishment.

‘Yes, I heard you remark something to that effect,” was
Talbot’s calm reply.

“T didn’t quite understand the outlandish lingo that she
Was spitting out so vigorously,” continued Brown, ‘‘ but, to
the best of my knowledge and belief, I reckon that the young
Critter was telling you that she thought a heap of you. Oh,
kin’dom come! how her black eyes did sparkle! I say, Dick,
Treckon the old woman would have jest got her little back
Up if she had seen thatshe savage jest now.’ And then

rown indulged in a loud laugh.

Talbot couldn't resist smiling at the comical manner of the

urly miner, grave as was the subject.

“Just you keep quiet now, old fellow,” he said; ‘“ Heaven
knows that I was quite innocent of an intention of having
any love affair with the girl, and, when I agreed to meet her
Up in the little valley yonder, I had no idea that she was any
thing but a boy.”

“* Well, what did the little critter have to say, anyway ?”

town asked, his curiosity excited. / :

“What do you think of that ?” was Talbot’s answer, and he
Dut th@ little golden nugget that he had received from the In-
ian girl into Brown’s hand.

@ Thunder!” exclaimed that worthy poineer of 49, as he
€xamined the nugget. His big gray eyes fairly stuck out of
Ms head in astonishment as he looked wpon the virgin gold.

Brown held up the lump in the center of his broad, brown
tlm, and as he balanced it, apparently testing the weight,
albot surveyed him with a quict smile.

 
i
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|
)

 

ren aand

SS

ees

Sa

 

 

50 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

‘A reg’lar little sockdolager!” exclaimed the miner, in
<< “Did you get this from the Injun gal?”

oe ves.

“T reckon that thar’s a heap more whar this one came
from,” remarked Brown, thoughtfully.

“T shouldn’t be surprised.”

‘I s’pose, in course, the Injun knows whar they are?”

‘** She stated so.”

“Ts she going to show you the place ?”

Talbot shook his head.

“ Oh, thunder!” exclaimed Brown, in disgust.

“IT couldn’t agree to the conditions that she imposed.”

“Were they steep?” asked Brown, eagerly.

“No, not very; merely that I should take her for my
squaw.” ‘

“Ts that all?” cried Brown, evidently in a state of high ex-
citement.

** About all.” :

“Which way did she go?” exclaimed the brawny miner,
preparing to dart into the thicket. ‘‘ Thunder! I'll. marry
her—marry a "hull grist of them, young or old, touglt or ten-
der. Gol darn it! I'll marry any woman that owns a gold
mine, an’ I don’t mind ef she is a leetle off color!’ Then a
sudden thought occurred to Brown and he hesitated. ‘‘ Come
to think of it, mebbe I wouldn’t suit the young critter. I
ain’t quite so dandy-lookin’ as you are, but thar’s a heap sight
more of me? What d’ye think? Is it worth while to foller
up the ‘lead ?” Come, old man, advise me; shall I chip in?”

‘* Pass, partner!” replied Talbot, laconically.

“Can’t I ‘raise the blind ? ”

“Nary ante! Your hand in that game ain’t worth a
cent.”
‘ me indulged in a deep sigh, and shook his head mourn-
ully.
“Old pard, if you kin persuade the gal to jine in my leetle
game, I'll go cahoots with you; fairer I can’t say.”

“T don’t think it is much use to try it, Billie,” Talbot pro-
tested. t 2

‘“T swow to thunder, ef I don’t have the toughest tug-mut-
ton luck!” Brown exclaimed, mournfully; ‘‘nary a chance
for me to ‘bile in’ ary time. I remember in ’52, down in the
Gila country, one of the chaps of our party found an Injun,
of the Apache tribe, all chawed up by a bear, an’ he®tended
the red until he got well; an’ then the ‘ buck’ took the young’)

 

ster off in the mountains an’ jest weighted him down ube
tle nuggets. I reckon that when the young cuss got back
camp he ‘panned’ out a cool five thousand dollars’ worth 4!
the ‘ clear stuff.’ ”

“Tt must have been trying to you,” Talbot suggested. : as

“ Tryin’ !” expostulated Brown; ‘‘ well, now you talk, at
 

DETERMINED TO STICK. - 51

would you bélieve it, till we got back to civilization there
wasn’t one of the party that didn’t go prowling round a-hunt-
in’ for some chawed-up Injun, layin’ round loose fur to pan a
gold mine out of.”

“Couldn’t the young fellow take you back to the mine?”

“ Nary take,” Brown replied. ‘‘In the first place, he wasn’t
very sure about the locality, and in the second, when we
tried that leetle game, the Apaches came down on us thicker
than fleas in a Mexican ranche, an’ we had to run mighty
lively to save our topnots.”

“The girl told me that she knew where there was a mine
in the mountains, but of course without seeing it, I could not
decide as to the truth of her story.”

“‘Korect, pard, every time!” exclaimed Brown, with a
great deal of emphasis. “I’m as sure of it, as if I had a-seen
it with my own two lookin’ eyes, as our darky cook use to
say. The whole lay of the country is in favor of it: These
regions up above here must be full of mountain ‘ pockets.’
I reckon, I’ve cut my eye-teeth on the gold-prospecting ques-
tion,” and the miner shook his head wisely as he made the
assertion. “ You know, pard, once on a time, all this coun-
try, clear way down to Frisco, was ‘the bed of a big river
with branches; then come a gen’ral convulsion, an’ it kinder
tumbled the mountains round loose an’ kivered the rivers up,
but whenever you strike the ‘ auriferous gravel’ that was at
the bottom of them air rivers, why then you strike ‘ pay-dirt’
an’ rich right down to the ‘béd rock” IT was on the trail my-
self, old mun; that was what fetched me up the leetle canyon
yonder. Ireckoned, mebbe, that I might tumble overa moun-
tain ‘ pecket’ somewhere an’ rake out two or three thousand
dollars right in the virgin lumps.” !

“Tf we can get things in working order again at’ the mine,
we have vot a fortune easy enough.”

‘“That’s so, true as preaching! All that I'm afeerd of is’
that the chaps in Frisco won’t poney up the dimes for to
start things again.”

“Then we must trust to our own resources,” Talbot re-
plied, quietly but decidedly. “ Solong as Iam a living, breath-
ing man I will never give up the Cinnabar mine, unless I am
convinced that its richness is but a phantom of our fancy, and
that we have already struck the bed-rock.”

“Tt ain't so, pard!’ Brown cried, earnestly. “TI know it’
ain’t’so! Tl bet the shirt off my back on it! Vil bet my
Doots! I'll bet even the leetle Injun gal !”

~@ Talbot Janghed at the emphasis of the other.

—“ Come, let us get back to the town,” he said; “ T shouldn’t be
surprised to find the special agent from San Francisco there.”

“T hope that they’ve sent us a chap that knows a good
thing when he sées it,” Brown grumbled, following Talbot
toward the mining camp. ‘‘ But, I say, pardner, ’m rally

 
Pe er arte anne een et TS TEI Be

 

 

——

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

in earnest "bout the tan-colored gal. Jest you propose m@ —
next time you see her. JH marry her and all her relations,
male an’ female, if they’ll throw in a gold mine.” j

CHAPTER XI,
A CHARACTER.

Ta.zot and Brown proceeded down the bank of the Shasta
toward the famous city of Cinnabar. We say ‘‘ famous” ad-
visedly, for the mining camp by the swift flowing Shasta
was a famous place in the eyes—and mouths—of the hardy
adventurers who were peopling Northern California, and who
were slowly, but surely, driving the red-men from the little
fertile valleys by the water-courses to the rocky peaks and —
dark canyons of the mountain ranges, just as the ances-
tors of the Indians, centuries before, had driven out a weaker
race.

“By the by!” exclaimed Talbot, suddenly, just before
they reached the outskirts of the town, “I suppose that it is
hardly necessary for me to caution you not to mention any
thing in regard to this Indian girl or her gold-mine ?”

“Oh, of course, J understand,” Brown replied; “two words
about a gold placer up yonder would start off half the town
in search of it, and the Injuns would be sure to make trouble,
an’ a long war with them would knock fits out of us. Of
course, they would be whipped in the end, but the fight would
render things mighty uncertain while it lasted. :

Just as Brown finished his speech, he noticed a man a hun-
dred yards or 80 on, sitting on a stone close to the bank of
the river, gazing intentiy into the stream. The stranger was
resting his head on his hands and sat as still as if he had
been fixed immovably to the stone. Brown called Talbot's
attention to the fellow. :

“Guess he’s a stranger,” the miner observed, “he don’t
look familiar, an’ he’s such a strange-looking cuss, I think
that I should have remembered him ef I had ever seen him
before.”

As the two drew near, the man lifted his head, took a long
look at them, and then rose from his seat and with a good-
natured grin on his face advanced to meet them with out-
stretched hands. :

As he come on, the two men had an opportunity to exam-
ine him.

Brown had described the stranger quite correctly in regard ©
to his general appearance, when he had stated him to be “a
strange-looking cuss.”

He was about five feet in hight; round and plump in limb;
his red face, loaded with fat, shone out from under the

 
se me
tions,

ista
ad-
sta
rd
ha
tle
nd
2S
er

 

 

is

»

 

RNAGGUD, FAT AND DIRTY. 53

Tagged yim of the high, bell-crowned felt hat that he wore,
ike a new moon breaking through a rift inan evening cloud;
&huge tawny beard that ornamented the chin made the face
Seem rounder than it naturally was; the eyes were more like
the eyes of a fish than of a human being, so glassy and bead-
like were they, and they actually protruded from his head.

he dress of the man, ragged, greasv, and so besmirched
With mud that it was almost impossible to tell the original
Color, did not add to the personal attractiveness of the smil-
Ing, huge-mouthed visitor.

“Thunder!” exclaimed Brown, in an undertone of deep
diseust as the mancame grinning onward. ‘‘I believe a cake
of soap would make tnat fellow sick!”

“Rather he’d make the soap sick,” Talbot replied.

When the stranger got within ten feet of the two, who na-
turally halted, perceiving that he intended to accost them, he
Came to a stop also, and struck a theatrical attitude, his legs
Wide apart and both hands upraised.

“Now, so help me Bob, if I expected this!” the greasy
fellow cried, in a sort of a shrill squeal.

Brown and Talbot looked at each other in considerable as-
tonishment at this strange greeting. As neither one of them
had ever seen the person before, to their knowledge, they
couldn’t understand what on earth he meant.

“Tt is too much, ha! ha!” wildly yelled the ragged man,
and he beat his arms against his breast.

Brown stepped back a pace and doubled up his brawny
fistin alarm. ‘‘He’s got the jimjams, by thunder!” he ex-
claimed, cautiously, in Talbot’s ear.

‘“No; he’s sober enough,” Dick protested.

“The sight of you two sharps here on this barren waste,
and with the ge-lorious beams of the sun a-shinin’ down on
yer, is good for sore eyes!” cried the stranger, making a
dart forward with outstretched hand.

Both Talbot and Brown reco‘led; neither one cared to take
the fat paw so profusely garnished with dirt.

A moment the bearded fellow gazed upon them, an expres-
sion of incredulous wonder upen his dirty face.

“What! kin 1 believe my eyes! Don’t you know me?”
and then he extended both hands, pathetically, opened his
mouth, as if he intended to swallow both of the two, and
rolled his eyes around in their sockets, until Talbotana Brown
began to be alarmed and wonder if he would ever be able to
get them right again.

“ No, I don’t know you!” declared Brown.

“ And you—don’t you remember. me, Richard?” ana the
stranger sighed deeply as he addressed Talbot.

‘©No; I never saw you befcre,” Talbot answered consid-
erably amused by the stranger’s antics. Brown was affected
differently. He was getting indignant.

:
 

    
 
 
 

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KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

‘‘Oh! So help me Bob, did you ever hear any thing like
this before?” The stranger appealed to some imaginary inr
dividual up in the air over his head.

“‘It almost makes me weep!”
ganged his fists against his fat stomach and howled dis:
mally.

“Oh, shut up yer noise an’ get out of the way!” growled
Brown, advancing a step in such an extremely menacing way
shat the stranger retreated in decided alarm, as he cried :

“Hullo, sport, let up! You wouldn’t hit a feller yer
xnow! Why, William, don’t you remember when we used
to play poker, five cents ante, down at Mud Springs?”

“No, I don’t; an’ I never was thar,” Brown retorted.

“Kin it be that me brain is wandering?” ejaculated the
stranger, smashing in the crown of his aged and weather-
worn hat with violent energy; then he extended both hands
to Talbot. ‘“ Kin you not remember me, old pard—when
we used to go to school together, and play in the medder
amid the hay—”

“Where ?” demanded Talbot, suddenly.

The abrupt question floored the greasy stranger, so to
speak. He rolled his eyes around mechanically, opened and
shut his huge mouth for a moment or two, like a dying
dolphin gasping for air, then a bright idea struck him.

“Why, jest as if you didn’t know; shell I mention the spot?
Never! Shall I tell the ‘sharps’ round here? Not much,
you bet! It is safe locked up in my bosom. All right, pard,
wild hosses couldn’t tear the secret from me,” and the vaga-
bond smiied, beamingly, and winked in a very knowing man-
ner at Talbot, as much as to assure him that every thing
was O. K.

“ Lookee hyer?” exclaimed Brown, abruptly; ‘‘you’re a
dead beat, you are!”

The stranger drew himself up with an air of cignity; “ kin
Ibe drunk, or am I sober?” he questioned with an air of
profound reflection. ‘‘Do I hear Joe Bowers—the orig’nal
Joe Bowers—called a beat? Oh, Billie B’own, how could
you? The man wot calls me a beat insults the lady I board
with. No other man but you, Billie, could call me a beat an’
jive’ a minite; but as it’s you I'll pass over it. 1 will even
dtink with you; or, what is the same, you kin pay me a
quarter. I prefer jest now to take my fluid solid.”

And Mr. Joe Bowers extended his dirty paw toward
Brown.

This was too much for the stalwart miner’s risibles,/and he
Durst into a roar. :
“TTyer, take the quarter,” he said, tossing it into Mr.

Bowers’ paw. “‘ It’s worth a quarter to see a first-class fraud,

any day.
: With graceful and easy dignity Mr. Bowers deposited the
& y y P

 
 
    

Then the man of greas@ |

— quartet
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THE ORIG’NAL JOE BOWERS.

(arter somewhere among his rags, and as. he did so he
Winked at Talbot.

“Billie must have his little joke, you know, but for the
Sake of the days that are ‘ played,’ as the poet says, I looks
Over it.” (

Talbot could not forbear smiling at the cool impudence of
the rascal, whereon Mr. Bowers took advantage to approach
quite close to him, somewhat to Talbot’s annoyance.

“ Pardon me,” Mr. Bowers said, persuasively, ‘* but between
friends, you know—old timers—have you a dollar that you
Can spare just as well as not?”

“No, sir,” replied Talbot, shortly.

‘** Ah,” Mr, Bowers looked thouglitful; ‘‘ it makes no dif-
ference, though. Could you be so kind as to direct me to
the chateau of my esteemed friend, Mr. Andrew Jackson
Hardin, commonly called Kentuck ?” :

  
 

CHAPTER XII.
THE SPECIAL AGENT.
_** Harpin, eh?” Brown questioned; ‘‘ Kentuck the gam-

bler 2”

“Wal, now you speak of it, I reckon he does finger the
papers onc’t on a while,” said Bowers, with a grin. “ He’s a
buzam friend of mine—an old p.rd.”

‘He hangs out at the Last Chance saloon,” Brown said,

» curtly.

“ Billie, I thank you!” exclaimed Mr. Bowers, raising his
battered-up hat with an air of stately dignity.

“ Look’er yere, ef you call me. Billy ag’in, Pll jest crawl all
over you!” cried Brown, indignant at the familiarity of the
fellow.

Bowers started back a step, and struck his breast with his
fist in a very tragic manner.

* Oh, Mr. Brown! can I ever tutor my wayward tongue
to call you any thing but the old familiar Billie of our child-
hood’s days?” Then Mr. Bowers lifted up his voice and
howled dismally for a moment. :

‘* Get out, you fraud!” shouted the burly miner, not at all
affected by the vehement sorrow of the greasy and pathetic
Mr, Bowers.

“ Good-by—O’river!” responded “the fraud,” retreating
Tapidly for a few paces. “I forgive yer, old pard; ag‘in’ a
friend I can not bear malice. The orig’nal Joe Bowers
never goes back on an old pard. Ta, ta, Richard; V’ll see
you ag’in—so lung!” And with this parting salutation, and
a dignified wave of his dirty paw, the orig’nal Joe Bowers
turned round and headed for the town, :

  
   

  
Ee

 

 

 

 

REE Tasers

 

saasie

 

45 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“He's what I call the clean white thing’ in the dead beat
‘ne !” Brown exclaimed, as he watched the retreat of the rag-

nuffin.

“ He’s a character,” Talbot confessed. “I ought to have
given the fellow a quarter—the exhibition was worth it.”

The two now resumed their progress onward to the mining
camp.

“TI wonder if the chap is one of Kentuck’s gang ?”

“No, I think not,” Talbot replied. “He has probably
heard of this Hardin as being one of the principal sporting
men in the town, just as he got our names and descriptions
‘rom some one and then laid in wait for us.”

“Thunder! I didn’t think of that!” exclaimed Brown. ‘1
thought at first that I had met the cuss somewhar’, but I
xnew that it wasn’t at Mud Springs, for I was never thar.”

“J don’t generally forget faces,” Talbot remarked, “ al-
though lve seen a few in my time, and I knew the minute
that I set eyes on this fellow that he was a stranger to me.”

‘7 reckon he wont? make any thing out of Kentuck,” ob-
served Brown. ‘I don’t know much about the man, but from
what Icetle I have seen, I think he’s about the hardest-hearted
an’ the cvolest-headed rascal that I ever happened to run
across.”

‘Yes, that’s about,the measure I’ve taken of him,” Talbot
admitted.

‘“* When he first set up his shebang yere he tried mighty
hard to ring me in for to have a leetle game, but the thing
wouldn’t hold water. Wve seen the ‘tiger’ an’ felt his claws,
an’ I reckon that [ ain’t hankering much fora tussle with the
critter. Ireckon that no man ever rally made any money
gamblin’. It’s dead open an’ shut game in the long run.
A man is bound to lose. ’Sides, I remember an old sayin’ that
[ heerd when I was a boy East, ‘what’s got over the devil’s
pack will go under the devil’s belly.’ Pard, it’s gospel truth,
too!”

“ Yes, ‘ill got, ill gone,” Talbot added. “A man can not
prosper on such gains.”

“That’s so!’ protested Brown, decidedly, “TI don’t mind
a lectle quiet hand at poker with jest enough anted up to pay
for the oysters and fixin’s, but when it comes to right down
gamblin’, you kin count this chicken out. Hasn’t this Ken-
tuck ever tried to rope you in to his place?”

‘Oh, yes, and if he gets to be too .big a nuisance I shall
take a hand one of these days an’ bu’st up the whole con-
cern.”

Talbov’s words, coupled with the quiet way in which be bad 7 /

uttered them, rather astonished Brown. ;
“You understand somethin’ about the ‘ papers’ then?”

“ Enough to flax this Kentuck, smart as he thinks himself,” —

Talbot replied, quietly,

 

 

COO CAS ert bad | bale peg jon 0

do

 
ot

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THE MINING CO.’S OFFICE. 5?

“Dick, I swowI’d give a five to see you bn’st up the
ranch!” exclaimed Brown, excitedly. .“ You ain’t forgot
what I told you about this sport’s boastin’ that he’d run us
out of town ?”

“* Not much,” Talbot said, laconically, but with a peculiar
Ting in his voice that spoke volumes.

‘* Dick, we two ought to be able to flax this galoot!”

“ Yes, he and all his tribe.”

Talbot had little idea though when he made the speech, ot
the extent of the “tribe” of Andrew Jackson [ardin, late of
the State of Kentucky.

Right on the eutskirts of the town was the Cinnabar mine,
and as the two approached the works, the watchman of tbe
Company, a stout. Irishman, answering to the name of
O'Rourke, informed Talbot that a gentleman in the oflice de-
sired to see him.

“It’s a stranger, Mister Talbot,” he said; “a well-fed gin-
tleman—from Fr’isco too, I'll go bail.”

“The special agent, by thunder !” exclaimed Brown, in Tal-
bot’s ear.

“T hope so,” replied Talbot, his face lighting up; ‘‘ we’re
all ready to start, ain’t we?”

“Yes, bout; Pll go an’ take a look at the canal before the
darkness comes,” said Brown. ‘Put it to him, pard; ef
they'll gi’n us a few thousand it will take over four oughts to
buy out my share of this strike.”

Then Brown started off to where the workmen were putting
the finishing touches to the repairs on the canal, and Talbot
entered the little wooden shanty near the mouth of the mine,
Over the door of which a rude sign bore the legend :

CINNABAR QuaRTz Minine Co. OFFICE.
The little shanty was only some twelve feet square by eight
igh. In one corner, by the sole window, stood a rude desk,
skillfully constructed out of a common dry-goods box, prop-
Ped up on four bowlders, one at each corner. A stool, deftly
Made by knocking out the top of acandle-box and putting
four legs in the corners, stood behind the desk. This was the
Office furniture of he Superintendent of the Cinnabar Quartz
lining Con.pany. On the other side of the window a smaller

X with the side knocked out, placed upon the floor, and a
fandle-box standing on end answered for a desk and stool for
-f€ foreman of the aforesaid mining company. _ Boxes of var-
lous shapes and sizes, containing soap, candles, dried fish,
Crackers, flannel shirts, felt hats, brogans, boots and half a
Zen other articles, lumbered up the room, almost filling the
Space from floor to ceiling, so that there was only a narrow
Passareway left open from the door to the ‘‘desk” at the rear
“nd of the room.

‘he shanty was not only an office but a storehouse as well.

itting on the desk of the foreman, clad in a dark suit that

 
 

 

 
  
 
 
 
   

 

 

 

eee eee Te

  
  
   
 
 
 
  

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

showed evident signs of how rough the journey was from
Yreka up the valley of the Shasta, was Hosa Congleton, Esq.,
Special Agent from the directors of the Cinnabar Mining

Jompany at San Francisco to investigate the way things
really were at Cinnabar City.

As Talbot came in, Congleton took a good, long look at
him from under his protruding eyebrows.

“Mr. Talbot, I reckon,” Congleton said, still keeping his
seat upon the box.

Fog pnt

“ My name is Congleton—Hosa Congleton from San Fran-
cisco. Lam a special agent to examine into the condition of
this mine; letter from tbe president.”

Talbot took the letter and opened it; it simply introduced
Mr. Congleton, and stated that he had been intrusted with
full discretion in all matters appertaining to the mine.

“Tam glad to see you, sir,” Talbot said, in his quiet way.
He too had used his eyes and he was not greatly taken with
the personul appearance of the special agent.

““T reckon things are pretty bad around these yere parts,
Mister Superintendent!” Congleton exclaimed, abruptly. “I
hain’t seen much, but what I have seen indicates that the
Cinnabar mine has gone bu’st, and the quicker we wind up
the company and sell out the better, by blazes!”

Talbot looked at the “ special agent” in astonishment.

 

 

CHAPTER XIII.
A BLUFF GAME.

“You surely do not think that it would be advisable to
give up the mine altogether ?” Talbot said, slowly.

“Well, I rather think I do!” was Congleton’s prompt ap-
swer.

“Mr. Congleton, I think the chances are after you have
thoroughly examined the affairs of the mine you will change
your opinion.”

“T don’t think that is a likely thing,’ Congleton replied.
“The trouble, Mr. Superintendent Talbot, is just hyer; you
folks that run these mining operations are generally reluctant
to quit work while a solitary chance remains. You go ahead,
hoping and hoping that the ore will get richer as you penc- —
trate into the ledge; you keep drawing and drawing on us _
flats in Frisco, who piank down the solid stuff to keep things |
running, until at last we wenken and then the consarn goes
to ’tarnal smash. Mind, Mr. Superintendent, I don’t blame you
a bit for sticking to the thing. T wouldn’t give a cent for’ |
map who couldn’t and wouldn’t stick where his bread and_
butter was consarned; but Pm a right, straightforward, plaid”

 

 

 
 

 

 
   
 
 

 

  

THE CONDITION OF THE MINE.

.an of business, and I’ve had all the kinks taken out of me
by hard knocks. [’m just old business from the word go,
I’m satisfied that the mine is played out, and the best thing
for the hull on us to do is to look the matter right squar’ in
the eye, so to speak, you know.”

Talbot had been watching the special agent intently during
the delivery of his bluff and rather offensive speech. Dick
was puzzled. Why the man should jump so suddenly to the
conclusion that the mine was worthless was beyond his com-
prehension.

“Mr. Congleton, don’t you think you had better examine
the works-vefore you make up your mind definitely ?” Talbot
said. “I think I shaii be able to convince you that the mine
is all right, and that the deeper we get into the ledge the bet-
ter the ore will get.”

“Let me see!” exclaimed Congleton, abruptly ; ‘‘ you want
about ten thousand dollars to start the works aguin, I be-
lieve ?” =

“No, we can start without a cent,” Talbot replied. ‘In
fact, we will get to work to-morrow, but if we hada few
thousand dollars’ worth of machinery more suited to the char-
acter of our ore, it would be almost certain to increase the
product a third at least. Then we are behind with the hands:
there is nearly two months’ pay due them. And of course,
Mr. Congleton, you are aware that it is a pretty hard job
to keep men to work in this region without their regular

a .

"Yes, I s’pose so,” Congleton grunted, rather than said.

“The money due the hands presses us more than any thing
€lse, but even that payment I suppose I could stave off if the
money couldn’t be got.”

“Then you can start the stamps again to-morrow, el?”
Congleton asked, in a thoughtful sort of way.

S 6a”

“ And I s’pose that by the way the ore pans out to-morrow
you think that you can satisfy me that the mine is all O. K.,
eh ?”

**No, the ore we have got on hand will only pay two or
three dollars per ton profit; but the new ore that the men are
getting now increases in richness every inch. I propose to
test some of that ore in a rough way, just to let you see what
the mine will doin the future.”

‘See hyer, Mister Superintendent!” exclaimed Congleton,
roughly and abruptly. “I’m an old bird, lam! Ask about
me in San Francisco, and they’ll tell you that my eye teeth
were cut long ago. I’m rough and ready, Mr. Superintendent,
but the man that tries to pull the wool over my eyes will have
to get up rather early in the morning. You can’t play any
‘salted’ mine on me, you know!”

And then Congleton shook his head knowingly, and looked

 

  
   
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
    

 

Soest ose

 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

§jnto T.lbot’s face in such an insolent way that Dick’s blood
began to boil.

Invcluntarily Talbot’s hands clenched and he took a single
step toward the special agent, and so manifest was his hostile
intention in his face that Congleton jumped with wonderful
alacrity from his seat upon the ‘‘desk” and took refuge, in
decided alarm, behind the box.

“Hallo! what d’ye mean?” he exclaimed, thrusting his
hand behind him as he spoke, as if to grasp a pistol.

It was a moment before Dick replied, for all the angry
pussions of his nature had been roused by the insolence of
the stranger.

“Mr, Special Agent,” he said, at length, “I reckon that
you don’t know who you are talking to. Ive a good mind
to take you by the neck and throw you out of the shanty.”

And just at that moment the San Francisco “sharp” had
a decided belief that the enraged superintendent could easily
carry out his threat.

“ Be careful, sir!” exclaimed Congleton; ‘‘ remember my
position. Iam armed, sir, too.”

““T reckon you wouldn’t use your weapons much if I got
my two hands on you once,” Talbot remarked, quietly.

Congleton by this time had come to the conclusion that he
had *‘ waked up the wrong passenger,” and, although a big,
burly fellow, almost twice as large as Talbot, yet he bad no
desire to try ‘‘ conclusions ” with the superintendent. Some-
thing in Talbot’s manner plainly indicated that he was not
to be trifled with. To use the common phrase, the special
agent ‘* took water.”

“Really, Mister Superintendent, I assure you that I did
not intend to wound your feelings. I trust that you will
overlook any hasty or careless remark made by me in the
heat of discussion,” Congleton said, endeavoring to be civil.
“T may be a lectle rough, but ’m generally straightforward
and come right to the p’int. I’ve seen so much skull-duggery
about these hyer mines and testing ore that it ain’t to be won-
dered at that ’m naturally jest a little suspicious.”

“Mr. Congleton, will you let me ask you a question ?” de-
manded Talbot, in his quiet way.

“ Certainly—what is it?” answered the speculator, endea-
voring to assume an air of unconcern that he was far from
feeling.

“Town outright fifty shares in this company, or I should
say, to bring in my partner, Brown, we own one hundred
shares of the Cinnabar stock, one-fifth of the entire capital;
we have spent every dollar almost that we had in the world
to get the thing started; now then, what two men on earth
have greater reason to wish the mine to succeed, or would be
more apt to drop it like a hot potato if we found thal it was
played out?”

 
 

A FATR PROPOSITION. 61

** Yes, of conrse; IT understand all that,” Congleton ob+
served, with an air of great wisdom, “ but you might sell out
zou know.” P

“T reckon, from what the Frisco papers says, that the
money sharps there ain’t eager to invest in Cinnabar stock,”
Dick replied, curtly.

“That's true.”

‘* But now to return to business; I want to show you that
the mine is all right. Til call my partner; we'll go into the
shaft, and with your own hand you shall detach a piece of
ore; Brown shall smash and wash it for you and if it dom’t
run at the rate of fifty dollars per ton, Vl make you a present
of my shares in the mine.”

“That’s fair enough!” Congleton exclaimed, emerging from
behind the box.

“Inside of an hour, you'll believe in the Cinnabar Inde,”
Talbot said, as he led the way from the shanty.

Brown happened to be standing right at the mouth of the
mine, and the two approached him.

The tunnel of the Cinnabar company extended into the

rock some twenty feet.

The mouth of the tunnel was surrounded by a wide stockade
fence.

“*Do you guard the mine?” Congleton asked, with a glance
at the watchman, O’Rourke, who was sitting on a bowlder
near by, smoking a short black pipe.

“ Yes, it is necessary, else the ore would be carried off at
night; that is, if the light-fingered gentry got any idea that it
would ‘pan’ out well,” Talbot replied. Then he introduced
Congleton to Brown.

“No men at work, I see,” the agent said, as he stepped in-
side the stockade and peered into the mouth of the tunnel.

“No, all at work on the canal,” Brown answered. Wecan
let the water on in the morning and start the stamps ag’in.”

“Mr. Brown, will you show Mr. Congleton where the last
lot of ore was taken out ?” Talbot asked,

 

CHAPTER XI¥,
A “sTOCK” OPERATION.

“CERTAINLY, step right inside.”

The two followed the foreman into the tunnel.

Brown took a candle-end from his pocket and a match; lit
the candle and Jed the way to the end of the tunnel.

A heap of ore and a pick, carelessly cast down by its side,
showed where the workmen had been extracting the treasures
of the mine.

“Take up the pick, Brown,” Talbot said, extending his

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
  

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

hand for the lighted candle. “I want you to knock off a
fresh piece of quartz for Mr. Congleton here, then * wash’ it
up for him, so that he can be satisfied that we have got a good
thing.”

Brown looked rather astonished, but gave the candle to
Talbot, and stooping, took up the pick.

“Now, Mr. Congleton, if you will be kind enough to ex-
amine the surface of the rock,” Talbot said, stepping forward
and holding the candle within six inches of the irregular wall;
“T want you tosee that this isthe genuine article; no humbug
about it, but just.as the force of nature formed it when she piled
all these mountains down on the old river.”

‘Oh, it’s ‘blue gravel,’ sure enough!” Brown exclaimed,
poising the pick and bringing it down with a mighty stroke
against the rocky wall.

Congleton stooped eagerly and picked up the fragments dis-
placed by the blow, while Brown leaned upon the handle. of
the pick and looked at the special agent in considerable aston-
ishment.

“ Now, sir, if you will walk into the mill, Mr. Brown will
pulverize the ore and ‘ wash’ it up for you.”

Without a word the speculator followed Talbot, and Brown
brought up the rear.

In the mill the foreman pulverized the ore, then in a pan,
such as are commonly used by a ‘‘prospecter,” he washed
away the base materials from the golden grains until only the
heavy sand and the precious metal remained; this residne
was amalgamated with alittle mercury, thus separating the
gold from the sand, and the work was done.

Congleton watched the process very intently. Hehad dab-
bled enough in mines and mining to be pretty well posted,

Brown weighed the gold obtained and then multiplied the
amount.

“Pretty rich ‘ pay-dirt,”” the foreman observed, laying
down his pencil and handing the reckoning to Congleton for
his inspection.

“ How much?” Talbot asked.

‘* About seventy dollars per ton.”

Congleton devoured the figures with his eyes in breathless
earnestness. He was hardly willing to believe the evidence
of either eyes or ears.

But the figures were all right—no mistake, and there was
the shining gold before him.

“Are you sure that this is correct?” the speculator asked,
shaking his head as if he was in doubt.

“ Tl] bet you all the stock I own in this hyer consarn ag’in’
five dollars that thar, is nary mistake ’bont it! Brown ex-
claimed, contidently. .

Congleton’s hand fairly trembled as he held the papet
‘This bid fair to be the great strike of his life. ;

 

  
 

RBOPE ENOUGH TO HANG HIMSELF. 63

“But the vein may play ri-ht out,” he observed.

“Nary play out a-tween hyer and the other side of the
divide!” exclaimed Brown, confidently, ‘‘ and T reckon that
that’s *bout five miles through the solid rock.”

“You see, Mr. Congleton, that the mine hasn’t gone back
on us yet,” Dick remarked with a quiet smile.

Congleton’s eyes wandezc2 cubievs!y from the superinten-
dent to the foreman, and then back again to the superinten-
dent. He did not hear the words that Talbot had addressed
to him, fora magnificent idea had taken possession of his
mind. He had quickly formed an estimate of both Talbot
and Brown. Clear, cool-headed, resolute men that they
were, it was Clearly the better policy to have them friends
than foes. If he could but carry out his idea.

‘*T suppose that you two gentlemen would object to part-
ing with your interest in this hyer mine,” the speculator said.

“Oh, no!” Dick feplied, “I guess that Mr. Brown and I
would be quite willing to vet out, if we could find anybody
tu give us our price.”

“And how much would you demand ?”

“ About a hundred thousand dollars.”

Congleton gave utterance to a low whistle.

“Why, gents, that’s a fortune!” he exclaimed.

“So is a hundred shares of Cinnabar mining stock,” replied
Talbot, ‘‘ or it will be « fortune before a year is over.”

“The stock wouldn’t fetch fifty in the Frisco market.”

“That’s likely,” Talbot responded, with an air of indif-
ference, “ but, Mr. Congleton, I put it to you as a judge of
that sort of thing, what will the stock be worth when it gets
out that we can make a profit of sixty dollars a ton out of our
ore.”

‘Ah, that will take some timé; You necd money ; suppose
the company refuse to advance any more?”

“T suppose we would have to get along without it.”

“You would hold onto the mine, anyway?”

“You vet?”

This terse and easily-comprehended ejaculation from Brown
completely settled Congleton’s mind upon that point.

“This is a very strange circumstance, gents,” the specula-
tor said, slowly, and after a pause; ‘‘ the president and di-
rectors down in Frisco think that the mine is done for. If I
Should go back to the city and report that the mine was
Worthless, the moment the news got out the Cinnabar stock
wouldn’t be worth twenty-five cents on a dollar.” And as
he uttered the observation, from under his bushy eyebrows,
Congleton watched the faces of the two men eagerly. Brown
didn’t perceive the drift of the “ feeler”; and although Talbot
did, he didn’t let Congleton perceive it. He wanted to hear
Nim out. It was the old idea, “ give him rope enough’and

*ll havg himself.”

 
  
 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“ Ah, do you think so?” Talbot questioned in the most
innocent manner possible.

“Pm sure of it!” the speculator exclaimed.

“Then it would be what you ‘stock’ gentlemen call a
shrewd operation to circulate the report, and so get the shares
all into the hands of the inside ring ?”

“ Yes, but the ring hare got abous ali the shares, now,”
Congieton replied, quickly; ‘‘ they had to buy ’em up to
keep the bottom, from tumbling out of the ’hull consarn,
when the canal bu’sted.”

“At any rate they’ll realize a great profit on their invest-
ments !”

“Yes, but don’t you see, Talbot, what a splendid chance
there is for skinning the ‘ring’ themselves, if I was mean
enough to go back on ’em?” Congleton exclaimed, eagerly,
coming quite close to Dick.

“How so?” Talbot pretended extreme ignorance, while
— really was at a loss to guess the meaning of the specu-
ator.

“Why, don’t you see? The company have sent me up hyer
as a special agent to investigate the condition of the mine. I
go back to Frisco and say that the thing has gone to ’tarnal
smash; that the michinery has bu’sted, and the ore won’t pay
for working. Tl fix it so that the thing leaks out and gets
into the papers; down tumbles the stock, of course. I throw
my shares and your shares into the market, with orders to sell
at any price. Through a broker I buy’em right in again,
and tien pitch ’em on the market ag’in. All the rest get
frighiened, and pile in tosell at any price. We gobble up the
shares at almost nothing; call a meeting of stockholders—us
three only—elect a president and board of directors—us three
again ; start the mine an@ make a hundred or two hundred
thourand dollars out of the thing, clear profit.”

“But how about the money to buy up the shares?” Talbot
asked.; while Brown, lost in silent wonder at the rascality of
the “ special agent,” stared at him in open-mouthed astonish-
ment

“¥ can fix that; that is, if I was mean enough to play any
such zame,” and here Congleton winked facetiously at the
superintendent.

** yes: and if we were mean enough to aid you to rob the
men that trust you; but we ain’t,” Talbot remarked, quietly.
“ So you'll go back to Fr’isco and tell them that the Cinnabar
mine is O. K., and the stock worth a hundred cents on the
dolla ', at the least !”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

THE LAST CHANCE. %

CHAPTER XV.
KENTUCK’S HOME.

Tue “Last Chance Saloon,” conducted by the sporting gen.
tleman who proudly proclaimed that his name was A idrew
Jack son Hardin, from the State of Kentucky, was not a very
imposing structure. It was merely a long, low, ont -story
shanty constructed out of rough boards. But rough an | rude
as it was, it was the largest building, and by far the mi st im-
posing, of all the structures, that, classed together, ma le up
Cinnabar City. \

: The building was about twenty feet wide, and abou’ fifty
ong.

Over the door the sign, painted with considerable skil , bore

the inscription
LAST CHANCE SALOON.

When Mr. Hardin had first affixed this very descriptive sign
to the “fore-front” of his shanty—as O'Rourke had ob:erved
—the honest miners understood at once, from the myst e em-
blems displayed thereon, that in the interior of the bt ilding
you could drain the flowing bowl, play cards, or chuck dice,
or listen to the magic strains of music’s soothing notes; the
aforesaid music furnished by an aged colored gent eman
pickinig-on “ de ole banjo!” The only thing that puzzl .d the
- citizens of Cinnabar, was to decide which was a man’s “ast
chance,” the bottle, the gaming-table, or the old nigge’ with
the banjo. We believe the colored gentleman carried tle day,
for the majority of the miners decided that, aftera maiy had.
listened to about three of the old darky’s tunes, he was per-
fectly willing to die to avoid further torture.

Entering the front door of the saloon, one beheld i bar-
room. The bar extended along the side of the room for about
twenty feet, and then came a partition with a door in it.
Passing throngh the door, the second room was devo ed to
the goddess, Fortune; or in other words, it was a gumi 4g sa-
loon, where the miners risked their hard-earned gains apen
the uncertain chance of luck. Due credit must be gi en to
the “sporting” men of the mining regions that their **; ame”
Was generally an honest one. In fact, had it been oth« rwise,
and the miners discovered it, small chance would the “sorts”
have had of escaping with their lives from their victims.

The gentleman with the banjo was an adjunct to Dame

ortune’s dominions.

The gaming-saloon was about twenty by twenty in s'ze. A
faro “ lay-out "—a suit of cards placed upon a green cl th, in
regular order—occupied the large table in the center of the
Toom. A couple of small tables, in one of the corner!, werg

 
    

66 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

evidently for the accommodation of poker-parties, if they
chose to honor the saloon with their presence instead of in
dulging in the alluring game in the sanctity of their own
domicils.

Beyond the gaming-saloon was a third room, much smallez
than the first two. This was the private apartment of the
proprietor of the “ Last Chance,” Mr. Hardin, more commonly
termed, however, ‘‘ Kentuck.”

The red-headed young man who acted as Mr. Hardin’s bar-
keeper, and who was known far and wide as Foxy Greek—
some irreverent miner, disguised in liquor, had once termed
the young man a foxy-headed Greek, simply because his hair
was red, and Ireland was his birth-place; and the name had
stuck to him so closely that his own original appellation had
been entirely forgotten—was busy preparing for the business
of the night. The day-trade of the ‘‘ Last Chance,” in com-
mon with the rest of the saloons in the mining region, did not
amount to much. It was only after the day’s toil was done
that the brawny, flannel-shirted, big-footed, and huge-whis-
kered seekers after fortune, flocked into town, Then Cinna-
bar City was lively, and a “ gay place to tie up at,” to use the
local parlance.

The bar-keeper was busy polishing a tumbler and whistling
lowly to himself, when the door of the saloon was openec,
and a frowsy head, surmounted by a shockingly bad hat, was
poked into the room.

The young man with the red head suspended his ..prations
and looked at the stranger in wonder, The patrong of the
Last Chance were not, as a general thing, particuiary fastid-
ious in regard to their personal appearance; and a decently-
dressed man was the exception not the rule; but the bearded
stranger with his bloated face, bleared eyes and general dis-
reputable appearance was something out of the common run.

The stranger glanced around the room, then at the wonder-
struck barkeeper, and commenced to wink at him in a most
peculiar manner. é

‘« What do you mane by actin’ like that, ye nondescript ye?”
demanded the young man, as soon as he could recover from
his astonishment.

Then the stranger introduced the whole of his body through
the doorway, much in the same way that a snake would have
wormed himself in, closed the door behind him, struck a
imagic attitude and pushed back the greasy hat from his fore-
read.

The barkeeper surveyed the movement with wonder and
apprehension.

“Oh! Foxy, don’t you know me; old Joe Bowers?” yelled
the stranger, at the top of his voice; then he extended his |
arms as if he intended to rush forward and clasp the bar- |
keeper to his greasy bosom. 7

 

 

 

 
 

AN AFFECTING SCENE. 67

Foxy seized a bottle in alarm and shook it menacingly at
* old Joe Bowers.”

“Oh! to the divil wid ye!’ he cried; ‘‘ where would I
know the likes of yees 2”

“ What!” exclaimed the greasy man, in a sort of prolonged
howl; “have you, oh, Foxy! forgot the original Joe Bowers,
your old pard, when you used for to sling drinks at Yankee
Jim? Hav’ you went back on the haleyon hours at Grass
“Valley and Ked Dog? -Itcan not-be! me ears deceive me!
Oh! how I have worn thee in my beart of hearts, old top, and
now thou knowest me not! It is too much; it laceraies ihe
heart of the original Joe Bowers! Oh, oho!”

Then, overcome by his emotions, the wanderer staggered
to the counter, leaned his head upon it and moaned, fainuy:

“ Giye me whisky, old pard, or I kin not stand it.”

“Arrah, git out!” cried the barkeeper, shoving back his
ancient friend rudely from the counter ; ‘‘let me see the color
of your money first, or divil a sup will yees git here, @ye
mind?”

“Kin you think of money when you see your pard suffer-
ing fur a leetle fire-water ?” demanded Mr. Bowers, in the
most feeling manner possible. :

But the hard-hearted young man who represented the no-
torious “‘ Kentuck” was not at all affec*ed.

‘*Oh, go to blazes an’ shake yersclf!” he retorted, indig-
tantly. ‘‘] niver set me two eyes on yees before, and bedad

don’t care a straw how long it is before Isee yeag’in. Ye'll
get no whisky in this shebang until 1 lay me fist on yer
money.”

“Are the ties of friendship nothing, rocks?” cried Mr.
Bowers, indignantly, yet with a touch of sadness visible in
his voice.

“ Git out, ye fraud !” the barkeeper exclaimed, quickly.

“ An’, Foxy, kin you refuse an old pard like the original
Joe Bowers, four fingers of whisky ’ca’se he hasn’t got the
dueats handy, an’ his banker has gone out 0’ town?” asked

Ir. Bowers, coaxingly.

‘By me soul! I'll be after breakin’ your back for yees if
ye don’t lave this quick!” The barkeeper was getting exas-
Perated.

Mr. Bowers retreated cautiously to the door, and held i

  

Open so as to secure a retreat in case the fiery you an
manifested any intention of carrying out his threat; this done,

he sighed deeply, and shook his head in a very mournful
Manner.

‘“* Foxy, old pard, I forgive you; you will be sorry when
’m gone. You will reflect and say, rather thun refuse old-
time rocks, the original Joe Bowers, 1 ought for to have put
& bottle of fire-water into his hand an’ sed, ‘ Go it, old pard ;
heaven bless you, me chyld! Oh, if your dook was hyer,

 

 
68 « KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

old Andy Jackson Wardin, that I used to go to schoo! with
in the town of Harrodsburg, Kentucky, he would have acted
differently. I say it ag’in, an’ I say it boldly—that noble son
of the State of Kentucky, Andrew Jackson Hardin—”

“Well, what do you want with him?” asked ‘* Kentuck ”
in person, walking into the room just then.

CHAPTER XVI.
OLD TIMES.

Tur original Joe Bowers was a little taken aback by the
ibrupt entrance of the man with whose name he was maxing
30 free, but the members of the genus ‘‘ bummer” are not _
2asily abashed.

Just for a moment the seedy vagabond gazed with open
mouth into the face of the “ sport,” then he lifted up his voice
and cried aloud:

‘Tt is, so. help me Bob! it is my old pard, Kentuck ; oh!
this is a joyful moment! Oft into the stilly night when the
lively musketer sung his love-song an’ dipped his leetle bill
into the sleepin’ galoots, hav’ I dreamed of this moment!”
Overcome by his emotions, Mr. Joe Bowers advanced with
outstretched arms toward Kentuck, as if with intent to fall
and weep upon his bosom.

“Look out! what are you ’bous?” cried Kentuck, retreat-
ing in disgust from the approach of the bummer.

“Oh, Andy, kin I not hold thee to this beatin’ heart, jest
onc’t for old-times rocks ?” exclaimed Mr. Bowers, patheti-
cally. |

“Get out, you fraud!” cried Hardin, indignantly; “ are you
drunk or crazy ?”

“No, Andy,” replied the greasy stranger, mournfully. “1
kin not get drunk in your ranche, for nary drop of tangle- —
foot would that red-headed angel yonder sling out unto me. }-
T tole him that you and I were old pards, but he sed it was |
‘played? an’ I were jes’ a-goin’ to levant as a gentlemapD |
should when his honor is doubted.” :

“Why, I never saw you before in my life!” Hardin ex- | ~
claimed. 7.

“He sed that he wint to the same school wid yees, bad |
%eess to him !” cried the barkeeper.

_ **An’ so I did, you Paddy whack!” replied Mr. Bowers, |
scornfully. = -

The barkeeper fairly jumped up and down behind his coun- | —
ter, boiling over with rage. a 1

“Tm a native ’Merican, you first-class bummer, ye, an’ fe
yees call me a Paddy whack ag’in, Pll bate yees black ar,

 
Ss ae

-

 

 

THE FLOWER OF MERCER COUNTY. 69

blue!” and Foxy shook his fist defiantly at Mr. Bowers, but
that individual only surveyed him with a beaming smile.

**Foxy’s allers the same,” he said, addressing Kentuck, in
a semi-confidential manner, “allers the sume red-headed,
Open-hearted chyild of natur’. When I. hears the boys talk
‘bout this whisky-h’ister an’ t’other p’ison-slinger, 1 allers
tells’em give me Foxy, Kentucks’s zight bower, for a man
you kin ’pend upon every time. You kin put your hand on
him an’ he’s thar! That’s what I tells ’em, an’ I further
seys, gentlemen, I puts my pile on Foxy, an’ I don’t keer who
knows it !”

The angry barkeeper was not at all appeased by these flat-
tering remarks, but still continued to scowl savagely at the
original Joe Bowers.

“See here, do you want to see me for any thing ?” Kentuck
demanded. -

“Nothin’ ’ticular, old pard,” replied Mr. Bowers, bluntly.
“I was jest a-passin’ by, an’ I asked a ‘pilgrim’ whar I could
get some licker fit fur a gentieman’s stomach, an’ he seys to
me, this pilgrim did, ‘ Stranger, strike a bee-line for the Last
Chance; <tiar’s the spot whar good liquor is got, an’ Andy
Jackson Hardin is his name.’ ‘Kin I believe me ears?’ I
Cried; ‘kin it be possible that it is the Andy of me chyild-
hood days, way back in old Kentnck?? An’ then this ‘ pil-
grim’ he seys to me, he seys, ‘Stranger, you've struck it
Tich, for the sport is from Kentuck !? Then, Andy, old pard,

 

 

I jes’ bugged that ‘pilgrim’ thar an’ then, an’ made tracks

40r-this hyer shanty.”
- “ You're a fraud, you are!” exclaimed Kentuck, abruptly.
[ never saw you before in my life; you can’t play that on
Me. Now, you'd better get out. Your little game’s bu’sted.”
‘Kin it be possible that my old friend goes back on me,
the, the orig’nal Joe Bowers?” and Mr. Bowers howled loud-
ly, in his anguish. ‘‘ Kin you not remember our old stamp-
Ing-ground, Harrodsburg, Kentucky, Mercer county, whar
they raise the fattest cattle, the fattest hosses, the puttiest
als, an’ the finest whisky under the etarnal sun?”
ardin’s brow grew dark at the mention of the Kentucky
Own, and he cast a quick and troubled glance into the face

f the inveterate bummer. It seemed as if be was seeking

M™ the swollen and discolored features ‘to discover traces of
& face once familiar to him; but, if such was his object,
the look upon his face clearly betrayed that he had not suc-
Ceeded.

“Are you from Harrodsburg, Kentucky?” Hardin asked,
€vidently puzzled in his mind in regard to something con-
Rected with the greasy and dilapidated stranger.

“Tam; Pm one of the products of that air noble State!
They used to call me the Flower of Mercer county!” Mr.
Bowers replied, with dignity

.

 
KENTUCK, THE 8PORT.

** And you used to go to school with me?”

“Oh, you kin bet your pile on that! it’s a four-uce hand,
old pard!? Mr. Bowers was emphatic.

“Whats your name ?”

“ Joseph Bowers, Esq.,” and he cocked his battered-up hat
rakishly over his eyes as he spoke.

For a moment Hardin survers4 the stranger, a thoughtful
expression upon his face; then he appeared to come to a sud-
den decision.

“Youre a dead beat, out and out!’ he exclaimed. “TI
never saw you before, and I was rever in Harrodsburg ; [
come from Paducah, McCracken county.”

“Kin Il be deceived ?” exclaimed Mr. Bowers, striking his
breast with his left hand in a tragic manner, and opening his
huge mouth to its widest extent.

“Treckon you are,” remarked Kentuck; “and now you
had better travel.” Ff

‘*It kin not be possible!”

‘““Well, itjust is; git?’ Kentuck said, tersely.

‘“*Mr. Hardin, if I am wrong in my prognosis, I forgive
you!” Mr. Bowers observed, blandly ; “sich things will hap-
pen in the best regulated families; but, Mr. Hardin, could
you tell a ‘pilgrim’ whar he could strike a job to tackle fur —
his daily bash ?” 7

“No, I can’t,” responded Kentuck, shortly; ‘‘I don’t keep
an intelligence office.”

“Kin you not make room for another barkeeper?” sug-
gested Mr. Bowers, insinuatingly. “I’m the liveliest cock-
tail juggler that ever wasseen. I kin throw out more whisky
an’ take in more dust in a single night than any other man in
Northern Californy.”

“Throw yourself outside of-wmore whisky you mean,” re- |
marked Kentuck, in a tone of disparagement, but Mr. Bowers |
was heedless of the insinuation. -

‘*’m the man for your money, Mr. Hardin ; jes’ try me.

* Chief cook and bottle-washer, cap’n of the waiters,
Set him on his head, peel two bags of ’taters,’”

But Kentuck neither appreciated Mr. Bowers’ offer nor hi: —
poetry. )

“Don’t want you!” he exclaimed; “quit your howling ands
get out!” ‘ {

“TY tell you what, Andy, old pard, jes’ gimme a show an! ~
I'll allow that the orig’nal ole Joe Bowers is wuth his weight 7
in dust fur a first-class p’ison-juggler. Why, the very sight”

of my face is ’nuff to rope ’em right in fur a drink. Tve got — Re

more nat’ral talent fur throwin’ whisky over the bar than any |
two-legged man from hyer to Frisco. Jes’ see me juggl@
that bottle one’t.” 4
Mr. Bowers made an advance toward the bar, but Foxy |.
seized the bottle and drew back his arm, threateningly. a
e

 
    

A DISCOMFITED PLOTTER. ve

  
  

  
     
       
     
       
   
        
          
       
       
     
     
   
   
      
 
       
   
   
        
     
   

“Let up, old pard!” exclaimed Mr, Bowers, halting. in in-
enntton; “lemme show the boss how I kin sling out the
uid !”

Kentuck concluded that it would be folly to waste further
Words upon the intrepid bummer, so he at once seized him
by the back of the neck, wheeled him round, facing the
door, and dextrously applying the toe of his boot, kicked him
Sut of doors. ‘

The sudden assault sent Mr. Bowers headlong into the street
and down upon his hands and knees.

Picking himself up slowly, he turned around and addressed
the irritated proprietor of the Last Chance saloon, a beaming
Smile upon his face. S :

“ All right, I understand; you don’t hav’ to say much to
old Joe. When a gentl’man intimates that he wants me to
80, I allers understand. You did that well, Andy, old pard ;
Most scientific thing I’ve seen fur a long while; couldn’t be
eat round this hyer ranch; [ll go my pile on that, old fel’,
every time. Say, Andy, could you lend a feller a quarter, [
Want to buy some postage stamps to write to my banker.”

“Get out!” Hardin slammed the door, in disgust.

    
      
      
   

  

Then Mr. Joe Bowers shook his fist indignantly at the sa-
j on.
cd “Til get even with you, old pard; never was kicked fur
p | Nothin’ afore in my life! 1 allers got a quarter fur that luxury.”
r-
c=
a
2 CHAPTER XVII.
e- THE SITUATION.
rs ConeEeton’s heavy under jaw dropped as he listened to
Talbot's words, anda look of sullen anger came over his
“tee. Tuo late he saw how the calm and quiet superinten-
€nt had led him pr to explain bis rascally scheme without
€aning to’ assist him in the least; and as he reflected how
hi Ifully he—the ‘‘Fri’sco. sharp”—had been induced to
wake a fool of himself, by the. able wit of the mere mining
nds i oss,” there came up in his heart such a feeling of rage that
py could have gladly killed Talbot on the spot. It was only
an’ | .¥ 4 great effort that he restrained himself from an open dis-
ht Y of his intense disgust. — :
ght | And Talbot, coolly watching the features of the “special
got gent,” who had been intrusted with the control of a great
any ding company; and who had so calmly and deliberately
eglé | Otted to rob the men who trusted him, and seize upon their
oa Olden chance for himself, really enjoyed the discomfiture so
roxY dlainty apparent in Congleton’s face; while Brown, whose

     

iY of humor was decidedly keen, only refrained from in’
  
  
 
 

  

 
 

72 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

dulging in one of his horse-laughs, by turning it into a violent
fit of coughing. ,

“Yes, sir; you may go back to Frisco, Mr. Special Agent,
and tell the good folks there that the Cinnabar lode is as
good a one as was ever struck in Northern California.”

“Aly, yes, of course,” muttered Congleton, in confusion.

* Tell them to hold on to their stock, and not to part with
it for less than a hundred and fifty. If the ore increases in
richness, as I think it will in the next fifty feet, it will pan
out as rich as any one of the Grass-Valley strikés.”

“Yes; its lucky that things look so well,” the speculator
observed, absently.

“You see, I was quite correct-when I told you that IT conld
change your opinion in regard to the value of the Cinnabar
stock,”

“Yes, Isee.” Congleton was rather at a loss for word.

“Now of course you can return and cheer up the heurts
of the Cinnabar stockholders ; you have pretty good proo | of
what the lode is really worth. There is nothing like aim-:i
seeing things with his own eyes.”

“ Ah, yes ;” and then a brilliant idea came to the specula-
tor; he saw a way to get out of the awkward position into
which his uncautious words had placed him. His face bright-
ened up, and a look of profound wisdom came over his hard
features.

‘Of course, Mr. Talbot, you understand the drift of my
remarks a few minutes ago?”

“ Yes, I believe I comprehend your meaning,” the superin-
tendent replied dryly.

“You and Mr. Brown are of course strangers to me, and,
as special agent of the company, deputed with full power to
act as the company itself, it was only natural that I should
want to understand the style of men running the machine.”

“ Well, I hope, Mr. Congleton, that you are pretty well ac-
quainted with my style, although you haven’t seen much of
me,” Talbot remarked, his face calm, but a latent touch of |
deviltry apparent in his tone. a

“Oh, yes, I’m quite satisfied !” the speculator spoke, hasti-—
ly. “Isee that you are nota man to be influenced by any —
enemies of the Cinnabar Company. In fact, Iam fully satis-
fied that you are not to be bought. I trust that you, asa |

man of business, will appreciate the leetle trap that I laid jest
now to draw you out.” j

“Oh, certainly,” returned Talbot, with easy politeness; |
“it was very cleverly done, too, Mr. Congleton ; the smartest |
man in the world would have believed that you were fully |-
in earnest, and that you intended to sell out the interest |
of the men who selected you to look after the affairs of tn? f
wine.” j
“*That’s so!” exclaimed Brown, and then he ga>

    
   
 

 
       
   
   
   
         
     
   
   
   
   
   
     
 

 
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
       
     
   
   
      

 
   
   
     
 

      
 

  
HOW AFFAIRS stoop. 33

to a horse laugh which grated harshly on the ears of the spe-
cial agent; but Congleton concealed his annoyance with a
forced laugh.

‘“Weill, gentlemen, I reckon we understand each other.
now,” with a very well-assumed appearance of hearty satis-
faction and frank openness.

‘‘Yes; I think you are quite right about that, Mr. Congle-
ton,” Talbot observed, not the shadow of a smile upon bis
face. “ For my part I am quite sure that we understand each
other.”

Brown gave just one look at Talbot’s features, and then turn-
ed away to conceal a smile. He understood the delicate in-
sinuation.

Congleton did not appear to notice the doubtful assurance,
and affected to appear quite satisfied,

“ There is nothing like having the working folks of a thing
of this sort all O, K.,” added the speculator. “If the parties

5 that find the funds and the men that. disburse them are all

: working together, the machine runs smooth.”

: “Well, Mr. Congleton, as far as the foreman and superin-
tendent of the Cinnabar mine are concerned, you can tell the

- directors of the company that it will take more money than

; any sane man would care to offer to buy them to smash the

' concern which they are paid to manage. The books of the

d company are right here in the office, ready for your examina-
tion, at.any minute. They will show where every dollar has
y gone to, and I really reckon that there hasn’t been much dust
: wasted.. In fact, the footings of the books, counting the sup-

 

ne _ plies on hand at their cash value, will show there has been
More money expended than I have received from the com-
id, Pany, and from the product of the stamps.”
to = “ How can that be?” asked Congleton, in astonishment.
ld ““The company’s money ran out just as the canal broke.
and the money that I realized from the sales of ¢. on hand,
ace Crushed but not washed, was only sufficient to pay the hands
i q for a single week. We have been shut down just four weeks
=o now to-day, and the second week Brown and myself ad-
g vanced the money to the company out of our own private re-
astl- | Sources, to settle. I sent a full statement of just how things
any Stood to San Francisco, and. stated that unless we reccived
atis: | . Money enough to square the labor bills up, that we should be
as & compelled to stop just where we were. _ The president wrote —
| jest that 1 must keep things running, and that he would send a
_ |  S8becial agent with money. That was three weeks ago. The
ness; } Only way we could keep the men on was to pay them or give
urtest | = them good assurance that they would be paid. As I have
fully > Said, Brown and myself squared the bills the first week; that
ten took five hundred dollars cash from us, which brought us
of 1® | down to the bed-rock.”

_pa}  ‘‘Cleaned you out, eh?” Scag

 
   

 

  

.

74 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Yes; the labor bills amount to six hundred per week ;
but the store run a hundred, and eased us up that much.”

“Then there’s two weeks’ pay due the hands?”

“Yes; two weeks Saturday last, and this is Monday.”

“ And you have no money?”

“ Yes we have; there’s two, hundred and ten dollars in the
treasury of the Cinnabar Company at this present moment.”

‘« Where did you get it from?” asked Congleton, in aston-
ishment.

“From the store—sales of goods during the past two
weeks,” Talbot replied. ‘‘I laid in the goods to supply our
own hands; but when I found that we were going to rur
short of money, I quietly got word around town that the
Cinnabar Company would ‘sell their stock at cost prices, so
we built up quite a little business. We have the store open
every night now.”

For the first time Congleton began to realize what a job he
had taken in hand, when he had made up his mind to “ throw”
the superintendent of the Cinnabar mine. But the prize was
such a golden one that it was worthy a desperate struggle.

“Then you have two hundred dollars, about, to pay twelve
hundred with?”

‘“That’s correct.”

“I suppose that if you covldn’t pay, the hands would
wait willingly enough ?” Congleton suggested. E

“* Some would and others wouldn’t,” Talbot replied ; ‘ but
the moment it gets round that tbere’s a special agent of the
company here, I doubt if there’s a man of them would do

stroke of work without his money.”

“That's bad, for I’ve brought no funds with me,” Congle-
ton said, abruptly.

Talbot’s brows knitted, and Brown looked astonished.

. -°*ButIcan doubtless get finds from San Francisco in &
week or sv, upon the receipt there of a favorable report.”

“Tm afraid that we will have trouble then,” Talbot re
marked with a grave look upon his face.

‘Oh, I reckon not,” Congleton said, carelessly. ‘‘ Well,
ents, I’m much obliged. Tl jes’ take a look round the town.
‘1 see you again to-night.” j

As the door closed after the speculator, Brown caught Tal

~ bot’s eye.

‘© What do you think, old man?” the foreman asked. — ,

“ He’s an ugly customer, and we’re going to have trouble.

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

   
   

 
 

FITS IN WELL. %

OHA PT Piya Vi
THE GAMBLER’s ‘‘LuUCcK.’’

CoNGLETON strolled carelessly down the street toward the
center of the mining camp. His face wore a very sober look
and his brows were wrinkled with lines that told of deep re-
flection.

‘ “T reckon that this hyer thing ain’t as easy as rolling off a
log,” he muttered to himself, in deep abstraction, as he walk-
ed along: ‘“ This cuss will show fight, sure. It will take
considerable work to boost him out of the Cinnabar Com-
pany, but it will be did. I reckon Hosa Congleton, Esq.,
don’t ginerally turn back when he puts his hand to the plow.
; Durn the fellow! Tl be ready for him the next time it

j comes to fight-talk. It ain’t often that H. Congleton, the

3 4 Frisco shark, takes. water—not often does he crawfish, and
I reckon he won’t ag’in. Now TI’ll see what. stuff this broad-

e cloth sport'is made of. He was right; it’s.a big stake!”
: And as the speculator walked along he reflected: upon the
} details of the interview which he had just had with the super-
d intendent of the Cinnabar Company, and the mere he thought
of the matter the greater grew the rage in his heart against

at the man he could neither buy nor use.

ne “IT. would rather have gone cohoots with him than with
a this. outside party,” he muttered. ‘‘ The confounded idiot!
I never saw a man so blind to his own interest before. -I
le- would have thrown this sport overboard if I could have fixed

the matter with Talbot, but since it ain’t to be, why he’ll jist
have to git out. Thar ain’t- many men in this world kin cross
n& |- .the path of Hosa Congleton, Esq., and live to boast of it.
When [stretch out my hand, it’s like old death a-feelin’ for
reg em.”

' And justas the unscrupulous speculator uttered the yaunt,

 

ell, and stretched his long, hairy fingers out asif in illustration

WD: | of his words, he happened to raise his. eyes and saw the sign
of the Last’Chance Saloon,

Tal “ Hallo!” he exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt; ‘“‘there’s

the place now. ‘Last Chance,’.eh? ‘Well, now, that fits in
a correct. Talbot was my first and this fellow is my last chance
ble. to make a big strike out of the Cinnabar mine.”

Smiling at the conceit, the speculator entered the saloon.
Foxy, the bar-keeper, alone was visible. He ducked his head
‘in salutation as Congleton entered. The bar-keeper saw at
Once that the speculator was a stranger. *

“Isn't this Mr. Hardin’s place?” Congleton asked,

‘Tis, sur,” answered Foxy, promptly.

“Ts hein?” : aid

 
   
  
  
   
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
  
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

 

Se eT essen

“Vd like to see him ona little business; say Mr. Congle-
ton wishes to see him.”

Foxy departed and ina moment returned with Kentuck in
person, from the inner room.

“T didn’t expect you so soon,” Kentuck said; “come inte
my private room. Foxy, if any one wishes to see me, except
Yankee Jim, tell ’em that I’m out and won’t be home till
dark. If Jim comes, tell me.”

Hardin then conducted the speculator through the gam-
bling saloon into his little room at the back of the house.

Congleton was considerably astonished at the. manuer in
which the private apartment of the gambler was furnished.
The Last Chance building was nothing but a big wooden
shanty,-constructed in the cheapest and easiest manner; the
bar-room and the saloon dedicated to King Faro, were only
two bare apartments, the walls and ceilings whitewashed,
and the floors covered with sawdust loosely sprinkled over
the rough boards; but the little room, Kentuck’s snugvery,
was neat and pretty as a lady’s boudoir. The rough ceiling
was hid by blue cotton cloth tacked to the rafters with little
brass-headed nails. The walls were hung wiih similar stuff.
The floor was covered with a tasty, small-figured blue and
yellow carpet. The furniture comprised a bed—the bedding
made up neat as wax, and covered with a snowy quilt—a bu-
reau, a small table, a rocking-chair, and two common ones.
But strangest of all, from the ceiling, pendent from a gilt
hook, swung a bird cage with a bright little canary perched
within.

The room was lighted by a single window only, and that
was high up in the wall and looked into the gaming saloon.

‘ Kentuck noticed the look of amazement upon Congleton’s
face as he glanced around the apartment.

‘*Didn’t expect to see a shebang fixed up like this, in these
yere diggings, I reckon?” the sport remarked.

“No, I confess I didn’t. You appear to be pretty comfort-
ably situated here.”

 

 

 

“Yes; it cost a heap of money to get these things up from
Yreka though, but we can’t live but once, an’ I wasn’t raised
in a wilderness.” , :
‘* But the bird,” said Congleton, pointing to the canary.
“That beats your game, eh?” .

“Yes, rather; you don’t appear to be the kind of man to [| h
take to a thing of that kind,” ; tu
‘*You're right thar!” exclaimed Kentuck, abruptly. “I

 

won that bird in my place in Yreka; kinder curious, too. a
There was a soft headed fellow, all worn out with the fever, [| — e

came into my place one night, and bucked the bank until “
he was bu’sted; then he went out and came back with that | do

bird. He said it was a pet of his wife who had come wjt®
 

ni

 

A STRANGE SUPERSTITION. G7

him up to the mines and died thar, and for her sake he had
held onto the bird. Well, to make a long’ story short, he
wanted to stake the critter. Seein’ the cuss had run his pile
out at my table, I couldn’t very well go back on him, and as
I wanted to do the squar’ thing, I jest allowed him five dol-
lars’ worth of chips. He slung ’em all down on the queen
and lost like the durned fool that he was. He jes’ gave one
look when the queen came up on the wrong side, and then
gave a yell and rushed out. I never seen him arter that
time. I didn’t want the bird any way and I thought mebbe
that the cuss would come back after it, so I jest put it away.
And now, sport, comes the hull strength of the story. Afore
I got the bird, things were rough with me, but from that
night they changed right round, an’ the ‘ bank’ made money,
hand over fist, cept when the bird happened to be sick. If
that little yaller galoot stays up on his perch all day long,
with his head down in between his shoulders, jes’ like a man
with the fever, an’ won’t eat nothin’, then I dive for my pile,
because it’s a sure sign that luck will run bad that night ; but
if he’s lively an’ hoppin’ round his cage during the day, then
the bank will run O. K. that night.”

“That's a strange superstition,” the speculator remarked,
in astonishment. He was not familiar with the peculiar
ideas in regard to luck so common to men who risk their
fortune upon the turning of a card and depend entirely
— the green cloth and the painted pictures for their daily

read.

“Well, it may be. a superstition,” the sport said, reflec-
tively, ‘‘but, rocks, it would take a pile of money to buy
that bird from me. Now, I jes’ tell you one little instance.
When I started this place, the first two nights I was open
the bird was on the road and didn’t get through. Those two
nights the ‘bank’ lost "bout two thousand dollars; pretty
heavy loss considerin’ that bets were limited to a hundred,
and the very night that the bird got in the bank was losin’
again, but the moment the little feller spread himself and
listed his wings around, luck turned and the ‘bank’ won.”

The grave face of Kentuck and his earnest manner were
ample proof that he fully believed in his theory.

‘Suppose the bird should die?” Congleton asked.

“Sport, the Last Chance would see nary card flipped up
out of the box fora week at least. I’d give the streak of
uck time to turn.”

“You seem to have a pretty good thing of it here,” the
Speculator observed.

““Yes, as far as the money is concerned, I’m doing well
enough; but it’s an awful life,” Kentuck said, soberly.
‘There ain’t hardly a man risks his money in my place that
don’t really hunger for my life if the wrong card comes up
and ] rake in his dust. A man who 1uns a gambling shop in

 
 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

  

this yere country does it with his life in hishand. Youwsee,
I don’t have.any windows. looking to the outside, except in
the front of the building. Why, after I’ve closed up the
concern at night, Pve heard the scamps prowling up and
down outside, jes’ mad to let daylight through my carcass.
They’ve fired into the room two or three times, but the wall
is double and the space between filled in with dirt—a regu-
lar breastwork.”

“JT should think that they would go for you in the daytime,
Congleton suggested.

“That has happened five or six times, but ‘ Jack has allers
been as good as his master,’” replied the sport, coolly. “If
it comes to drawin’ shootin’-irons, you can bet your bottom
dollar no man gets the ‘drop’ on me. I reckon to have first
fire every time.”

‘* Well, to come to business,” said Congleton, abruptly,
“Tam ready to go in with you, but it willbe no’easy job to
get Talbot out.”

“Pll do it!” cried Kentuck; ‘‘Pll do it if it takes the
heart right out of me!”

”

CHAPTER XIX.
IN COUNCIL.

ConGLETON made a grimace at Kentuck’s vaunting speech.
“Don’t you believe that I kin run Talbot out?” the sport
questioned, noticing the look upon the face of the speculator.

“It won't! be easy,” Congleton observed, doubtfully.

“Big strikes-ain’t to be got easy'in’ this world!” Kentuck
replied, sagely;-‘‘ but, as sure as I sit-here, Pll run him out.

“But the way?”

“That's what I’m coming to; take it easy, rocks; when I
start in to break a bank, I allers calculate’ the chances before
I puts down my ‘checks. Now, don’t run away with the
idea that because I said in my emphatic way I was going to
win the trick, that I’m:going to'rush in like a mad bull, keer-
less whether thar’s' corral of bushes ora solid rock wall
afore me; nary time! I said that I would run Talbot out of
the Cinnabar mine if it took tlie heart right out of me. Now
tliat’s my game and'I’m going to play a winning hand, so I
must‘ stock’ the’pack and ring in a‘ cold’ deal-on'the Super-
intendent of the Cinnabar Company.”

“You have some plan in view then?” said Congleton, just
a little surprised.

“Co’rect, old man!” exclaimed Kentuck, emphatically. “T
have just got the little deal arranged that will win my game,
I reckon.”

‘*Go ahead and explain.”

‘*In the first place let us understand each other,” Kentuck

 

 

 
 

 

  

KENTUCK'S TOAST.

 

observed, in his usual impassive way. “Sit down,” and the
sport pulled two chairs up to the little table, then produced a
suiall flask anda couple of wine-glasses from one of the
bureau drawers. | °

Congleton sat down, Kentuck filled the wine-glasses from
the flask, pushed one toward the speculator, and sat down on
the unoccupied chair, and took the other glass in his hand.

“Take a little brandy; it’s a prime article, twenty years
old; no poison about it; it’ssome thatI keep for my own
private use; it will clear yourhead. Ill give you a toast, too;
Luck to the Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company—that’s you
and me, rocks.” f

Kentuck took a sip of the brandy and laughed at his own
witty remark.

“Now, first and foremost, do you accept the proposition
that I made to you in your office in Fr’isco ?”

‘‘ That is to fix things so as to get possession of this mine
hyer ?”

“ Co’rect !”

“It’s a bargain.”

“ Shake,” said Kentuck, laconically.

As the thin, white fingers of the gambler closed over the
horny palm of the brawny speculator, Kentuck looked Con-
gleton straight in the eye.

“ Now, the fair thing is,” Kentuck said, slowly, still retain-
ing Congleton’s hand within his own, ‘‘ we share alike after
tlxeejob is done, but if you put in ten thousand-dollars to my
five, or 1 two thousand to your one, as the case may be, the
extra amount is to be paid over to the man who advanced it
out of the profits of the mine before any division is made.”

‘““That’s perfectly fair,” Congleton remarked; “do you
want any papers drawn up?”

‘* Nary paper,” replied the sport, laconically. ‘‘I reckon
we understand each other. If 1 was going to try to beat you,
rocks, all the papers in Californy wouldn’t stop me.”

“ But the legal papers might stop me, you know, if I took
in into my head to go back on our agreement,” Congleton
suggested, a twinkle in his shrewd eyes.

“JT reckon, pardner, that if you were to beat me out of my
share in this yere transaction, your heirs would stand a heap
sight better chance than you of enjoying the spiles.” Ken.
tuck’s meaning was quite plain.

“JI gness we understand each other,” the speculator ob-
served, with an appearance of great frankness.

‘*T reckon so.”

Then Kentuck released Congleton’s hand and took another
sip of the brandy.

“TI s’pose you understand the way affairs are fixed ?”

“Oh, yes; 1 had a iong talk with Talbot and Brown.”
“They think that the mine is big ?”

 
 
   

  
   

 

 

 

 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT,

“Yes, ro chance of brying them out. They are going to
start the stamps again to-morrow.”

“PH bet two to one they don’t, if Isay the word!” Ken-
tuck exlaimed.

“ Aha! you’ve got things in working order so soon ?”

“T reckon so; in the first place, how much money has Tal-
bot got in the treasury?”

“ About two hundred dollars.”

‘* And he owes the hands nigh on to twelve hundred.”

‘*But they will be apt to wait for their money if he distri-
butes the two hundred among them, and then, too, if he is
hard pushed, he has a lot of goods in store thathe might be
able to raise some money on. And if he gets the stamps to
work, he’ll be able to get an advance from the express com-
pany, possibly.”

““ Well, we must block all these moves,” Kentuck announced.
‘“«Thar’s one man that runs the hands, and Lrun that one man.
If I say strike, strike itis! Not only that, but Pll fix itso
that they will neither work themselves nor let anybody else
work. As to raising money on the goods, I reckon it can’t be
done. Thar ain’t many hundred dollars laying round loose
in this yere town.”

‘But if he gets the stamps in working order—”

“But nary stamp will he work!” interrupted Kentuck, de-
cidedly. ‘I reckon the strikers won’t let things run untii
they get their money.”

* Talbot may show fight.” e

‘““So much the better,” Kentuck replied ; ‘* he isn’t the only
man that carries a shootin’-iron in this yere city. If thar is a
scrimmage, it’s ten to one that somebody wings him, and tbat
would save us a heap of trouble.”

“Pve got an idea!” exclaimed Congleton, suddenly, “an
idea that may work well. I have full authority from the
directors of the company at San Francisco ; suppose lremove
both Talbot and Brown from their offices upon the plea that
they have squandered the money of the company and that
their mismanagement has ruined the mine.”

‘Pretty good, pard, but 1 reckon that they wouldn’t go.
They would be mighty apt to stick, and to tell both you and
the directors to go to blazes.”

“Then we’ve got’em!” cried the speculator, exultingly.
‘* We call upon the law to step in and enforce our rights.”

‘Yes, but we hav’n’t got any law here yet,” Kentuck re-
marked. ‘‘ Next week we’re going to elect a mayor, though,
and form a regular city government.”

“Then we'll be all right.”

“S’pose the mayor won’t act in our interest ?” suggested
Kentuck.

“We must take care to elect a man that will. Who are the
candidates ?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

LAYING THEIR PLANS 81

“Only two up, Billy MacArdle, an old Scotchman, presi-
dent of the Dundee Company ; they run the Blue Bonnet and
the Dundee lodes. Did you notice as mall concern just outside
the city as you came up from Yreka ?”

Congleton nodded.

“Old Red Billy, they call him; he’s a close-fisted old cuss,
but pop’lar with the best men of the town.”

“Could we use him ?” Congleton asked, significantly.

“Nary use,” responded Kentuck, laconically.. * He’s a
cross-grained old galoot, contrary asa mule. If he had his
way, he’d shut up all sich places as mine, durn him!”

“JT shouldn’t think that such a man would be acceptable to
the inhabitants of this delightful region, judging from what I
have seen of it,” Congleton remarked.

“‘ Well, 1 tell you what it is, rocks; Cinnabar is a good deal
like the rest of the mining camps, looks worse than it is.
Thar’s a heap of men round this yere town that don’t trouble
whisky much and never lay out a dollar on keerds.”

“But the other candidate?”

“Jimmy Hughes; he keeps the Dry-Up Hotel; that’s the
white-washed building over the way. Jimmy is very pop’lar
with the boys, keeps the best liquor in town—no better judge
of whisky this side of Frisco.”

“] should think that his chances would be good now!”

** Well, I don’t know,” Kentuck observed. ‘‘ Talbot. and
Brown and nearly all the big men are backing Mac; they’ve
got the rocks and the influence.”

“Do you think that Hughes would be uccessible to reason
if he was elected ?” Congleton asked, with a suggestive wink.

“*T reckon a hundred dollars would plug Jimmy's eyes up
so tight that he'd be willing to sw’ar black was white and
white no color at all.”

“ He’s the man for our money,” Congleton exclaimed, de-
cidedly. ‘* We must elect him, Hardin, if we don’t succeed in
getting Talbot out before the election comes on. I've had
some little experience in the election line east. Ireckon we
kin fix things. What are the regulations in regard to voters?”

“Any man that’s been in the city ten days.”

“And the inspectors who receive the vote ?”

“Two for each side; the city is divided into two wards,
upper and tower.”

“Splendid chance for our men to vote twice,” protested
Congieton, briskly, rubbing his hands,

“We'll give ’em a lively shake, any way,” Kentuck replied,

Foxy sticking his head into the room interrupted the con-
versation

“Here’s Yankee Jim; d’ye want him ?” the burkeeper asked.

** Yes, start him in!”

The barkeeper’s head disappeared.

“ He’s the man that runs the hands on the Cinnabar work.”

 
   

 

I
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it
if
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KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

CHAPTER XX.
YANKEE JIM.

“ AnD we can use'this fellow?”
‘*T reckon'so; he hates Talbot like p’ison. Jim’sa bruiser,
and the superintendent interfered one day when he wasthrash-
ing a man smaller than himself.”

“T should have thougkt he would have ‘ gone’ for Talbot.”

‘“The galoot was ready for him with his shootin’-iron, and
Yankee knew it. He would have drilled: daylight through
Jim quicker’n lightning.”

The opening of the door cut short further conversation.
A stout, muscularly-built: individual, clad in a blue flannel
shirt, rough pantaloons, stuck into big boots, and. a dilapida-
ted felt hat, entered the room. His face was round, brutal and
ugly; the broken nose, the bull-dog-like jaw, retreating fore-
head and thick neck would have delighted an admirer of the
exponents of the so called ‘ manly” art of self-defense.

Yankee Jim was an English-Irishman; that is, the child of
parents who had emigrated from the Green Isle to the land
of joys and roast beef. What his right name was no one
knew, and how he had come to be termed ‘‘ Yankee” was a
mystery, which we doubt if even the man himself could
solve. But he was pretty well known as Yankee Jim to the
denizens of the different mining camps in the north, for since
he had made his appearance in the mining region, he had
been concerned in some half a dozen prize-fights and at least
ten‘or fifteen shooting and cutting affairs.

“How are you, Yankee?” said Kentuck,. as the bully
slouched into the room. ‘“ How’s things?”

“ Rough,” responded Yankee.

“ Got any money from the Cinnabar folks?”

“ Nary dime.”

“This is. the special agent of the company from Fr’isco,
Mr. Congleton.”

“ How d’ye do?” said Yankee, ducking his head. ‘‘I hope
that-you’ve brought up the dust to pay off the boys.”

“Tm sorry, my friend, to say that I hav’n’t,” Congleton re-
plied; ‘‘ the fact is the company’s broke.”

‘““That’s bad,” observed Yankee, in disgust.

“Mr. Talbot informed me thathe intends to start the works
to-morrow; perhaps he knows of some way to raise the
money to pay off the boys,” Congleton suggested.

‘* He won’t start no work here till he ponies down the dtst
that’s due us!” exclaimed Yankee, savagely.

“That’s the talk, Yank!” said Kentuck, encouragingly ;
“Jest stick. to that. Don’t let’em touch a stick nor-a piece

 

 

 
 

THEM HEATHENS. 88

of machinery until you get your dust. The quicker this Tal-
bot gets out the better it will be for the boys. A new man
and a new company would make things fly round yere,”

“That’s so!” exclaimed Yankee, emphatically; “ this sup-
erintendent puts on Chinamen in the place of decent white
men. Why, we’ve got two in our gang now. I’ve jist bin
a-stirrin’ the boys up. They’ll clean out them pig-tails ’fore
long, and Mister Superintendent with them if he dares ta in-
terfere,”

Hardly had the words left his lips when there came a tre-
mendous series of yells from the street.

Yankee started to the door.

“ Tl] go bail tliat the boys are arter the heathen now!” he
cried.

All three at once proceeded to the street, Kentuck tak-
ing particular care to lock the door of his private room after
him. :

As Yankee had guessed, it was the “‘ boys” “ going” for
the unfortunate Chinamen.

Down the road ran the Celestials, their somber garments
covered with dust, and their long cues streaming’ behind
them in the air, while, close at their heels, came ten or fifteen
rough, red-shirted, huge-bearded whites.

“ Kill’em! Lynch ’em! Hang the heathens!”

Wild were the shouts and angry the voices of the miners.

The hunted Chinamen ran straight for the stockade which
hemmed in the Cinnabar miue, and disappeared within the
opening.

“Now we’ve got °em!” cried the leader of the rabble, flour-
ishing a huge bowie-knife; “come on, boys; we'll skin the
yaller cusses!”

But as the rabble were about to rush into the yard they
were suddenly confronted by Talbot and Brown at tle open-
ing.

“Hello, fellow-citizens, what’s the trouble?” exclaimed
Talbot, as he faced the excited throng.

“Them heathens!’ gusped the self-constituted leader of
the crowd, a little out of breath from the exertions he had
made.

“The Chinamen 2” asked Talbot, blandly, as if he was in
total ignorance of the object of the excited men.

“ Yes, yes!” yelled the members of the crowd.

“Well, what of them?” queried the superintendent, smil-
ing, calm and serene, in the faces of the scowling miners.

“We want ’em!” cried the leader of the rabble, rather puz-
zled at Talbot’s coolness,

“ Ali right, I'll tell ’em so,” responded Dick, with extreme
politeness. ‘“ Brown, just tell the Chinamen that a distin-
guished delegation of their fellow-citizens are waiting for
them out here.”

 
 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Four or five ot the crowd, who had simply joined in the
chase for the fun of the thing, snickered at this, but the leader
of the litle mob and three or four more, who were the insti-
gators of the affair, scowled and began to handle their weap-
ons in a very significant manner.

“ Look hyer, pilgrim !”” cried the ringleader of the crowd, a
burly fellow known as Long Tom Merigan, and reputed to
be a thoroughly bad character in cvery respect, “we don’t
want no chin-music; we’re on business, we are. P’haps you
don’t know who Iam; I’m Judge Lynch, and this hyer crowd
is my court, an’ we jest want them two heathens!”

“ See here, pilgrim,” said Talbot, imitating the manner of
the other, ‘‘I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I really
reckon that this city don’t require any of Judge Lynch’s
work just now. Lreally doubt your authority to act.” :

“You doubt my authority, do you?” cried “ Judge Lynch,”
in a bullying way, flourishing his big knife almost in Talbot's
face.

“ Yes, I do,” replied Talbot, slowly, putting his hands in
the pockets of the loose sack-coat he wore in the most careless
way in the world.

“ By the living blazes!” cried the rough, fiercely, “if you
don’t git, Pll-cut you _up into mince-meat. I’m Long Tom
Merigan, from Pike, Missouri, I am! I’m jest living death
when I’m riled! Jest you smell of that!” and the bully
thrust his knife within a foot of Talbot’s nose.

Talbot jumped back a step, raised up the right skirt of his
coat, the hand still in the pocket, and fired the derringer con-
tained within, without taking the trouble to draw it.

With an awful howl, “Long Tom Merigan from Pike”
went over on his back in the dust, and the crowd behind him
scattcred like a heap of dried leaves before the blast of a No-
vember gale.

Those of the crowd on the outside who had merely joined
in to see the fun had no disposition to stand as targets for
Talbot’s shots; as one of them expressed it, “it was none of
his funeral,” and as for the three or four who were really in
earnest to lynch the heathens, the sudden and complete
downfall of the gigantic Missourian was quite enough for
them. :

Heads were peering round the corners of the neighboring
shanties, eager to witness the end of the “ trouble.”

The “ member from Pike” was rolling around in the dust,
howling in the most dreadful manner.

“ Anybody else wants to step up to the captain’s office and

settle?’ asked Dick, his hand on his revolver.
_. All down but nine, pard; rake ’em in!” suggested a
brawny, yellow-bearded miner from behind the shelter of a
huge bowlder which hardly concealed his stalwart propoz-
tions.

 
 

 

MORE FRIGHTENED THAN HURT. 85

“ Will anybody give this man from Pike a decent funeral ®”
asked Dick, advancing to where the giant was wallowing in
the dust.

At the suggestion, another piteous yeowl came from the
prostrate “ Judge Lynch.”

Then, to the surprise of all the lookers-on, Talbot bestowed
a few hearty kicks upon the wounded man, which served to
produce a series of yells which went far to prove that tbe lungs
of Long Tom were all right.

“Get up, you big baby!” cried Talbot, in contempt, “ boot-
ing the prostrate man, as he spoke, in an extremely dextrous
and scientific manner. “You're not killed; I only shot off
the tip of your ear.”

Long Tom suddeniy stopped his yelling, while the bystand-
ers, roaring with Jaughter, came from their “ fortifications”
and gathered round him, Talbot returning to the shelter of
the mine‘again.

Slowly and sheepishly the man from Pike gathered himself
together.

As Talbot had said, the ball had just cut the tip of the
ear.

Long Tom did not wait to hear the comments of the miners,
but left at once for the suburbs.

“«The fellow is plucky,” Kentuck observed to Congleton,
referring to Talbot.

“* Yes, but I reckon his defense of the Chinamen will cost
the party he supports fifty votes when the election comes,”
Congleton said, shrewdly.

CHAPTER XXI.
THE STRIKE.

TALBort and his wife, Catherine, were at breakfast.

The few vears that had elapsed since we traced the fortunes
of “ John Rimee ” in the pages of Rocky Mountain Rob, had
wrought but little change in the face of the fair young girl.
The dark, lustrous eyes were still the same; still the little
jetty ringlets clustered over the olive-tinged brow.

The face was a trifle paler, for she was suffering from a se-
vere cold. ,

Talbot's quick eyes noticed the pallor of the face, and his
apprehensions were excited.

“You don’t look well this morning, Kate,” he said.

“T passed a very bad night,” she replied. ‘‘ I was troubled
with terrible dreams.”

“Of what nature ?”

“T can’t tell,” she said, ‘‘ only that you seemed to be in
danger and I was powerless to help you. Three or four times

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT,

at least I woke with a sudden start, chilled to the heart with

terror.

“ Probably only a light fever attack,” Talbot suggested,
cheerfully.

“Perhaps so; and yet I feel a strange, vague. apprehension
of danger that I can not account for.”

A vigorous knock at the door interrupted the conversation.
Talbot rose and admitted Brown.

A single look at the sober face of the foreman was quite

ufficient to inform Talbot that there was mischief afoot.

“ Well?” Talbot asked.

“The hands have struck !”

Few words, but much information.

“ How did it came about?” Talbot questioned.

“Tt was all cut and dried beforehand, I reckon,” Brown re-
plied. ‘I ordered all hands to be at the canal,,ready to let
the water in, this morning. I jes’ started up thar; the men
were on hand all right, but when I got within twenty feet of
em, I saw thar was trouble ahead, an’ the long an’ the short
of the matter was, that they all declined to put their hands to
the tools until their back wages were paid.”

“What put such an idea into their heads?” Talbot asked,
in astonishment. ‘‘I should think that their own common
sense would tell them that they stand a better chance to get
their money if the mill goes to work than if they compel i
to remain idle.”

“Thats jest their leetle game!” cried Brown, abruptly.
“The spokesman of the party told me that, until they got
what was owing to them they would neither work themselves
nor let anybody else work.”

~e« Talbot’s brow knitted, and the cold, hard, white look,which
boded such danger, came over his face.

“They intend to take such action, then, that we cannot
raise ne money to pay them, however good our will?” he
queried.
 «Thar’s somethin’ underneath this hyer lull business that
I don’t understand,” Brown continued ; “the men haye been
growling a leetle for a week back, but when IJ talked reason
an’ sense to ’em, they allers listened to it; but this morning
you might as well talk to alot of rocks. One thing, though,
may have set ’em up to this hyer piece of work; they
know that there’s a special agent from the company in
town.

“A peculiar look came over Talbot’s face.

“Do you think that he has had any thing to do with insti-
gating the affair?”

‘© Well, I’ll be hanged if I know,” replied Brown, bluntly.
“T don't really see, what he could make by any sich trick; bu!
what struck me was that the men, hearing that there was ®
special agent from the company here, might jump at the no-

2 TRON LET

a

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THE STRIKERS. 87

tion that he had brought money with him, an’ if they struck
an’ acted ugly, he might be induced to shell out.”

“That is probable,” Dick admitted. ‘“ VIl go and have a
talk with them, and see if I can get at the bottom of the mat-
ter. How many are concerned in the strike?”

“The hull crowd except O'Rourke and the two Chinamen.”

Talbot drained off his cup of coffee, thrust his revolvors
into his belt, placed his little derringers, one in each of the
lower pockets of the loose sack coat that he wore, kissed his
wife, bade her take good care of herself, and then followed
Brown into the open air. re

Talbot’s house was a little, one-story shanty, divided into
two rooms, and occupied a corner of the inclosure that sur-
rounded the Cinnabar mine.

“ You're prepared for work, I see,” Brown said, glancing: at
the belt that girded in Dick’s supple waist.

“Yes; experience has taught me that the best way to avoid
a quarrel is to be prepared for one.) O'Rourke!” :

The Irishman, who was, as usual, smoking his short, black
pipe by the doorway, came in answer to Talbot’s call.

“You saw that gentleman that was here yesterday, Mr.
Congleton?”

“The stout gintleman that was well dressed ?”

“ce Yes.”

**Shure an’ I did.”

“Run round town ard see if you can find him. Tell him
that Mr. Talbot would like to see him immediately. You'll
probably find him at Hughes’ hotel.”

‘** Vis, sur,” and O’Rourke started.

Ten steps beyond the inclosure, the superintendent and
foreman met the strikers in procession, marching toward the
mine.

The news of the trouble had spread rapidly around town.
and the consequence was that every idler in the city bad
rushed to the spot, expecting to see some “ fun ;” so the crig-
inal eighteen strikers had been augmented into quite a crowd.

Perceiving the procession, Talbot and Brown halted. The
Strikers and their followers also stopped. Then from the
ranks of the crowd Yankee Jim stepped forward. It was evi-
dent that he intended to act’as spokesman for the rest.

‘*Mr. Superintendent, I represent this hyer delegation of
workin’ men,” Yankee said; ‘‘ we come right straight up as
honest, squar’ men should, for to complain of the way in
which we have been treated.” “

“Tm ready to listen to any complaints, and to give you all
the redress in my power,” Talbot replied. ‘‘ Go ahead; what’s
‘the trouble?”

‘* We want the dust that’s due us; two weeks’ wages any-

/

. “Way, afore we do another stroke of work.”

Now we want to talk this matter over calmly,” said Tal-

 

     
&8 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

bot, quiet and cool. “As superintendent of the Cinnabar
works, I am perfectly aware that there is two weeks’ pay due
you from the company. Ican only say that there is no money
in the treasury to speak of, but if you will only be patient,
attend to your duties, and so let the stamps go to work, by
the end of the week I shall probably be able—even if I do not
receive any money from head-quarters—to get an advance
upon our product for the week, and pay you a large propor-
tion of the money due.”

“That don’t suit us!’ exclaimed Yankee; “ we want our
money now or a show for it. If we had the reg’lar officers of |
law hyer, we could attach the works for our money; and as |
we haven’t, we propose to take the law into our own hands,
au’ we say nary stamp will go to work till we get our
dust.”

Talbot saw at once that another mind than Yankee Jim’s
had conceived this idea, and he was at a loss to imagine who
was at the bottom of the affair. 1

“ Well, men, 1 can’t say any thing more ; I am but the agent
of the company; I haven’t got the money, and I can’t pay you
until I do get it; but, let me assure you that the quickest way
to get~your money is to let the works go on.”

And just at this moment Talbot caught sight of Congleton
approaching, piloted by O'Rourke. ;
“Men, here is Mr. Congleton; he’s a special agent of the —
company ; listen to him and he can tell you exactly how af-

fairs stand.”

Then as the speculator came up, Talbot explained to him | ©

what was the matter.

Congleton made a speech to the men. It was very short |
and extremely unsatisfactory. He merely said that the direc-
tors were not very well pleased with the way affairs had gone,
but he had no doubt that, upon his representing matters in
their proper light, some satisfactory arrangement. could be —

‘made.

After this speech, the strikers held a short consultation
among themselves, and then Yankee Jim stepped again to the
front. ;

“* My mates an’ I wili agree to one thing. If Mister Talbot —
and Brown will resign their places, and deliver up the works, —
an’ money, an’ goods to Mister Congleton hyer, an’ he will
make a fair division of what money thar is, we'll go to work
ag’in.”

Si An earthquake ripping the ground open at his feet could
hardly have astonished Talbot more. For the first time the
nature of the demonstration occurred to him. His first |
thought was correct, too; there were wiser heads than Yankee —
Jim’s at the back of the movement. ;

‘*In my capacity of special agent for the Cinnabar Company |
IT can not perceive any objections to your plan,” Congleton ©

 
A BOLD CHALLENGE.

Said; “and Uve no doubt that both the superintendent and
Oreman will see the force of your remarks, and resign their
Positions immediately.”

CHAPTER XXII.
TALBOT SHOWS FIGHT.

A ruasu of fire blazed from Dick’s dark eyes as he listened
to the ultimatum of the strikers. The oily words of Congle-
fon, too, did not tend to lessen the angry passions that were

urning within the heart of the superintendent.

“Resign my position, eh?” Talbot said, very quietly ; but
to those who knew him well, it was evident that it was only

Y a great effort that he retained his composure.
ie “That’s whar we stick,” replied Yankee Jim, insolently.

We kinder think that the consarn would run better with a
Tesh man to the fore; in course, meanin’ no offense to you,

ister Talbot.”

But there was offense in the man’s manner, if not in his
Words,

“As special agent of the company, Mr. Talbot, I world
Tealiy recommend you to adopt the plan suggested by these
8entlemen, since that seems to be the only way to settle this
“difficulty,” the special agent remarked.

Talbot paid no attention whatever to Congleton.

“Unless you get your money you and the rest will not
Work?” directly addressing Yankee Jim.

“That’s the pint!” the bully replied, insolently ; ‘‘ not
Only that, but you can jes’ chalk it up that nary other man
Will do a lick of work on this hyer mine till we gits what's
Comin’ to us.”

_ Dick’s lips quivered, but with a powerful effort he restrain-
, himself.
““Now, just listen to me, men,” the superintendent said, in
low, deep tones. “In the first place any talk of my resigning
hy position in this mine is wasted. I don’t recognize the
Neht of any man in the employ of the Cinnabar Company to
_ “ictate to that company how they shall carry on their bus-
| Mess, You have a perfect right to strike, if it so pleases you;
} ‘hat is your privilege. Now, to come right down to plain
| “dk; is there any personal matter at the bottom of this de-
Mand that Ishall resign my position? Is there any man

“None you that has a grudge against me? or any {wo men,

‘ three men, or five men, or more? If so, I’m ‘ heeled,’ and
~STeckon you all are. Qraw your weapons, then, any one,
_ itree, five, or more, and step right ont where we'll be clear of
a this crowd of fellow-citizens, and we'll settle it! If Pve
| ronged any man, I’m not afraid to give hin a chance to get
| “Quare 1) 5 Be

”

 
90 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Talbot had been gradually getting excited, and his voice
had swelled from its low tone into the loud, clear, bugle-blast
of defiance. ; 4

When he had warned them that he was “heeled,” to usé |
the mining parlance, he had swung back the skirts of his coat, —
and showed the revolvers belted to his side. 2.

Not one of the crowd made a motion as if to accept the bold |
defiance, but five or six in the outer circles of the throng, took —
a step or two backward, and cast their eyes quietly around as |
if for the purpose of ascertaining the position of the nearest
shelter, from which they might have a view of the coming |
“circus,” and yet be out of the reach of harm. f

Yankee Jim understood the nature of the challenge to be
principally meant for him; but, anxious as he was to get even
with Talbot, he had no idea of risking his precious carcass in
a fair fight with, notoriously, one-of the best shots in Califor-
nia. 1
““Come, come, fellow-citizens !” cried Dick, impatiently, |
“my money’s up; who ‘calls’ me?” 2

There was a moment of silence, and then a hoarse voice of
a huge blue-shirted miner, on the extreme edge of the crowd, |
cried: a

“T reckon we all ‘ pass,’ pard!”

There was a general laugh at this sally. /

Comedy and tragedy go ever hand in hand on the border. |

“ Allright!’ cried Talbot, after the laughter had ceased; |
“if no one cares to ‘chip in,’ I’m agreeable. All I want is to |
have the matter understood. If I have wronged any man, he
needn’t go ‘hunting’ me round town; I’m always ready to |
step up to the captain’s office and settle. Now, fellow-citizens, |
we'll fix one point, certain: I don’t go out of the Cinnaba
mine until I am carried out, feet first !” -

“ Bully for D.-Talbot, Esquire!” sung out a discordant voice | —
from the center of the crowd. ;

Dick recognized in the speaker the bummer who had called
himself Joe Bowers. (

“ Now for the next question before the meeting,” Talbo
continued, without taking any notice of the interruptio’
“There are two weeks’ pay due to you Cinnabar men. I as
you to wait until to-morrow morning. At nine o’clock
morrow you shall have every cent that’sdue you. I give y'
my word of honor upon it, and I reckon there isn’t a man 1
this crowd can say that he ever knew Dick Talbot to go back |
on his word. Will this satisfy you?”

“*Course it does, old pard! Bully for Talbot! Right, 0!
man, every time for ducats!” yelled Mr. Joe Bowers, in wil
enthusiasm, much to the astonishme#t of the miners, to who!
the tattered and weatber-beaten bummer was a stranger,

‘“Wot do you know ’bout it?” growled a compatriot’
Yankee Jim’s, looking askance at the ragged fellow.

 
CONGLETON’s “ PUT.”

__ “Ole pards; you know,” explained Mr. Bowers; ‘‘ went, to
School with him!” and then he pretended to catch sight of
the face of the miner for the first time.

“Why, ole fel’, is it you? Give us your fist! I ain’t seen

| You since that time in Skinner’s Flat!”
Tbe miner was about to indignantly repudiate all know-
| ledce of Mr. Joe Bowers, but Talbot, speaking, attracted his
| Attention.
| _ “As I don’t hear any thing against it, I suppose my pro-
g | Posal satisfies you.”
“Yes, yes—that’s fair!” came in murmurs from the crow 1.
ankee Jim, the former spokesman of the strikers, wus
Silent,. The sudden turn of affairs bothered him, and he was
- &ta loss what to say. The miners seemed disposed to accept
‘albot’s offer, and he guessed that it would be of little use
| forhim to attempt to turn the current which had set so
- Strongly. He looked at Congleton as though he expected in
the face of the speculator to read some instructions, but the
Special agent was quite at sea what to do himself. Talbot's
- Confident assurance bewildered him. .
“To-morrow at nine o’clock, your money will be ready for

Ou,” Talbot said, apparently ending the matter. But as Tal-

Ot spoke, a sudden idea occurred to Congleton. He thought

had surmised where the superintendent was going to raise
the money, and he resolved to put ‘a spoke in his wheel,” as
: would: have expressed it had he put his thoughts into

ords,
“Gentlemen, a parting word!” Congleton exclaimed, ap-
- Pealing to the crowd who were already moving away. The
_ Words stopped the dispersion.

“The worthy superintendent of the Cinnabar mine has just
assured you that you shall receive the wages due for the past
two weeks to-morrow morning. I confess: that I haven’t the
Yemotest idea where he is going to raise the amount, for

Welve hundred dollars, more or less, don’t grow on every

Ush in this hyer region, nor does it walk round in many |
Men’s pockets. I reckon that I don’t often take a back-seat
M financial matters, but it has just beat me to raise money for

is-hyer consarn. Why, gentlemen, thar’s nigh onto ten

_ thousand dollars’ worth of new machinery for the Cinnabaré
Mine stuck on the road from San Francisco hyer, jest because

e tompany can’t raise the money to fetch italong. Why,

ents, thar’s a mortgage on every piece of wood, iron or rock

longing to this hyer Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company!
Why, gents, if any liberal man was disposed to lend me a
 handred dollars on any securiety that I could give him in my
_ fapacity of special agent for the Cinnabar Company—that is,
4 mean, on any security belonging to the company, he'd never
Sit nary cent of that money back ag’ir, ’cos it’s all covered
Row, the property with mortgages almost enough to kiver the

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

hull durned mine with a paper carpet. I speaks right out
plain as an honest man should. I want you to have your
money, you that have worked for it. Vd like to borrow some:
‘dust from some of you fellers that are running paying mines,
but I ain’f a-going to lie to you about the security, "cos the
man that would do that is a villain, fellow-citizens, am’? I’m
just that sort of a plain man that would tell him so, Tight to
his teeth. I rally differ with Mr. Superintendent hy er. r
think that it would be better to clean the hull thing out an’
start fresh. But he’s going torun the machine now, an’ f
wish him iuck. I reckon he’ll need all the good wishes he
kin git. I respect his pluck an’ I liked to help him pull
through, but not even to save the Cinnabar Company would
I take any man’s money on worthless security.” :

This peculiar speech from the blunt and ‘‘ honest” Congle-
ton of course had due effect.

If Talbot had hoped to borrow any money on the strength
of the Cinnabar Company, that idea was done for.

It was doubtful if the superintendent could have raised ten
“dollars.

“Don’t wrong yourself, Mister Special Agent,” the super
intendent said, in icy tones; “as you lave just remarked,
Pm running the machine, and if the Cinnabar Company is
broke, I reckon Dick Talbot ain’t. And when it comes dow ne

to mortzages, there’s some shanties on the Cinnabar property
on which I hold a builder’s lien which no mortgage can
worry.” And after this remark the assemblage dispersed.

CHAPTER XXIII.
GAME TO THE BACKBONE,

THE miners slowly sauntered away, the crowd breaking apt
into little groups, all intent upon discovering where and how
the superintendent was going to raise the money necessary
to pay off the labor debts of the Cinnabar Company. 4

Many were the surmises and vague the conjectures. “

“He'll do it, boys, for rocks !” ejaculated Mr. Bowers, who
had managed to introduce himself into the center of the
strikers who were clustered around Yankee Jim. ‘ve
know’d Dick Talbot ever since he was knee-high to a chaw
tobacco. He’s jes’ all lightning, every time, You'll git yer
money, pards, I'll bet ten dollars on it !” ;

This declaration, and Mr. Bowers’ willingness to back uP |
‘his words with the solid stuff, had due weight upon the minds
of the workmen. They crowded quite eagerly around the |
bummer, but Yankee Jim looked daggers at the free and eas!
stranger.

“Tt’s all O. K.,” repeated Mr. Bowers, witb a dignified wave

 
 

ee

BROWN’S GUESS. 93

 

|
s
1 3

.

of his dirty paw. “TI tell yez what it is, pards, Talbot’s
| 00d squar’ man, and he’s worth a heap o’ dust. I kin re-
Member ’im in ’fifty-four, down in Pig-tail Gulch, when he
es’ run the town. He’s all right now, I tell you!”
Yankee Jim didn’t wait to hear any more, but walked off
With a muttered curse, while the curious miners endeavored to
extract from the redoubtable Mr. Bowers all he knew concern-
ing the superintendent of the Cinnabar mine, and as that
Worthy possessed a remarkable power of invention, he satis-
| fied the curiosity he had excited with some of the most won-
, ) erful yarns that had ever been heard. And as the whole
Party adjourned every now and then to a saloon to “ liquor-
Up,” within on hour or so it would have puzzled a conjurer to
decide which was the most drunken one of the throng. It is
. | hardly necessary to remark that Mr. Bowers did not drink
r 4 his own expense; but the credulous miners footed the
y | Dill.
___ Talbot walked slowly toward the mouth of the shaft ; Brown
1 | followed a few steps behind him.
The supermtendent sat down on an overturned wheelbar-

- | Yow, and taking outa little pearl-handled pocket-knife, pro-
; Ceeded to trim his nails.

s | _ Brown squatted down upon a chunk of rock, and drawing
1 | forth the huge jack-knife which he always earried, picked up
; &chip from the ground and commenced to whittle. This act-
1 lon indicated that the stalwart foreman was deep in thought.

— “What do you think about it?” asked Talhot, suddenly,
_ Suspending operations on his nails, and addressing Brown.
; “Ree lar old p'ison!” replied the foreman, emphatically,
| Whittling off a huge slice from thie chip.
“You think that some one has incited the men to strike?”
~ “Co-rect !” exclaimed Brown, “and the first letter of his
Name is this durned scamp Congleton.”
p |} = “ Just my own thought,” said Talbot, in his quiet way.
¢ | | “Plain as the nose on my face!” cried Brown, getting vio-
y |} lent in his honest indignation.
, “When I saw this Yankee Jim at the head of the men I
} had an idea that he had excited them to strike, because I
0 Now that the fellow hates me; but I soon understood that
e} he was only the tool, not the master. What do you make of
e} 1t, Mr. Brown, anyway?”
¥ } | The foreman whittled away for a few minutes. in silence.
t | He was evidently debating the question in his mind.

| . “Well,” he said at length, “I can’t exactly reason ‘the
p |} thing out, but Ireckon I kin give a pritty good guess at it,
8 | This durned special agent is at the bottom of the bull thing,
@ | tle’s the man that fonnd the brains in the affair. I don’t ex-
sy | *Ctly see what he’s drivin’ at. ’cept that he wants to get’ you

~| 8nd Tont of this ranche. P*haps his idea is, that he’ll git.
v@ | ®ome other men in he’ll be able to ‘use,’ and I reckon by this

 

pa "

 
  
  

 
 
   
 
 
  
  
   
     
    
  
 
  

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

time he understands that he can’t perform that leetle opera
tion with us.”

“ But how, in so short a time, could he have possibly come
to an understanding with Yankee Jim?’ Talbot asked, his
gaze bent upon the ground.

“T reckon Kentuck, the gambler, could answer that ques-
tion,” Brown replied. ‘‘ Mebbe I wouldn’t have thought of it,
but I see’d Congleton coming out of Kentuck’s place last
night, an’ that looks mighty suspicious, pard.”

wee A cold, hard look came on Dick’s face, and he thrust the
slender blade of the penknife deep into the wood of the bar-
ae Brown watched him, a curious expression upon his
ace.

“ What are you thinkin’ of, eh?” - -
“Tf these two men are in league against me, it’s alucky |
ae for them that I’ve got a wife here,” Talbot replied, | a)
slowly. — |

‘* What would you do, Dick, if the wife wasn’t here?” |  «
Brown asked. Etro
~ “First convince myself that my suspicions were true,and f —«

then send these two men where gold wouldn’t. be of much fF  «
use to them,” Talbot replied, a lurid light blazing from his | a t)
eyes. . “
“Tt may come to that before we are through,” Brown sug- &

| gested. Van
‘*T will keep it off as long as I can, for her sake,” Dick J

i said, slowly. ‘‘She is not well; I can see it in her face, arf glow
though she makes no complaints. It’s strange that all througl | «
my life fate seems to take pleasure in forcing me into scene?
of bloodshed. But this, time I will not seek the quarrel.”

** But if you can’t avoid it? if it’s forced right straight ont®
you?” Brown questioned.

“Well, in that case, I reckon that the Cinnabar Mining
Company will need another special agent, and that there’ll B®
one gambler less in Cinnabar City.” ;

Talbot’s tone was quiet and cold, but there was a look
his eyes which plainly revealed the angry passions that bul
ed within his heart. sp

“That's the talk !” exclaimed Brown, emphatically. “J@®}
count me in, Dick; I’ll back yez, teeth and toenails. Nev®
give up the mine! It’s ours! We fit the McClouds for it, a
walloped the red snakes right out of their boots! But I s®
Dick, one thing gits me; whar in the name of creation, 4
you goin’ to raise money to pay the hands?” 4

Talbot laughed. 2a

“That bothers you, eh ?”

‘« Well, now, it jes’ does,” Brown replied. ‘‘I tho
when you made the speech to the boys that they should
their money to-morrow, you intended to try an’ raise ®
’round town, pledge the machinery an’ tools, mebbe, but

iL

i

ee a an RS Se Ea ane Sane

 

 
   
    
  
   
  
   
 
    
 
 

 

HIs LITTLE GAME. 95

special agent jes’ knocked fits out of that idee with that speech
of his’n.”

“That is exactly what he intended to do,” Talbot said.
“That is why he spoke. He wanted to prevent me from rais-
__ ing money on the Company’s property, even supposing that
any man with money was fool enough to think that, as su-
__ perintendent of the mine, I had power to put in peril: the
|. Property of the Company.”

e “Then that wasn’t the idee?”
3 |  — “No; 1 knew when I assured the men that they should
-  \ have their money, that I couldn’t raise it upon any security
$s @ that I could offer.”
_ “Then how in thunder air you goin’ to git it ?”
Brown’s curiosity was strongly excited.
y= “Make a raid on the enemy’s supplies,” Dick replied, with
d, | 8 baffling smile.
. “ Well, L reckon I don’t understand,” Brown suid, slowly.

“You think that Congleton and Oo. is at the bottom of this
trouble among the hands?” Talbot demanded.’

“ Sartin !”

“Tf I pay the hands what is due them to-morrow it will be
& triumph for me?”

“You bet!”

“Suppose I force the party who caused the trouble to ad-
Vance me the money to allay it?”
al “T reckon: that is nigh onto impossibility,” Brown said,

Oowly.
a. lt would be a double triumph for me, though; would it
— hot, if I succeed in doing so ?”
_ . “fE reckon that it would, Christopher. Columbus!” ejacu-
‘| “ated Brown, excitedly.
, ‘Now, you know my little game,” Talbot said, rising as
he spoke, closing up the penknife and returning it to his
Pocket.
a But can you work it?” Brown asked, anxiously, also ris-

iS.
“T guess:so,” Talbot answered, quietly. ‘‘I’ll try it at all
vents.”
__ “But when will you know?”
,, Before midnight.”
“ And thar’s a cliance ?”
*“More than a chance !” ;
-**Go in then, old’ hoss!” cried Brown; excitedly. “ Win
is first trick and the game’s ours!”
m Maybe not; Congleton may have other trumps back,”
Tabor replied with a laugh, as he walked out of the stockade,

 

 

 

 
   
     
    
       
        
     
  

 
  
   
 
      
   
  
  

     
   
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

CHAPTER XxX TY.
AN INDIAN’S FAITH,

TALBoT walked up the main street of the mining-camp,
which ran parallel with the river. 7 1

He passed through the scattered shanties, the south-eastern
suburb of Cinnabar City, and followed up the Shasta stream
toward its source in the mountains.

Onward he went with a tireless stride, evidently with some
other object in view than a mere ramble.

Cinnabar City faded away in the distance and still Talbot
pressed onward. The chaparral grew dense and dark, and
great Shasta’s ice-crowned peak loomed up clearer and clearer,
its summit of virgin snow cutting the clear blue sky,

Then the thicket ended and the wall of rock which marked
the entrance to Shasta’s canyon, rose before the adventurer.

Talbot halted ;-he glanced around him to make sure that
he had not mistaken the spot. No! his path was true; straight
he had come to where he had parted with the Indian maid
after the terrible encounter with Koo-chue and his red Me-
Clouds.

Alone, by the bank of the river, stood the white, his keen
glances piercing the shrubbery around. But quick and sharp
as were the eyes of Injun Dick, trained by long years, passed
in perilous adventures, to read the signs of the wilderness
they were at fault now. He looked for a human but none
could he see.

Then he raised his voice and spoke in the Indian tongue:

“Tf one of the Shasta tribe lies hid within the wood let
him come forth and hold speech with his white brother.”

Searcely had the sounds of the words died away on the air
when, from the top of a scrubby oak which overhung the
rushing current of the Shasta stream, a light form scrambled
down the knotty trunk.

Before Talbot stood the light-red elf, clad in the garb of the
wilderness and unarmed, except that a slender-bladed knife
was thrust through the belt of untanned leather that girded in
his supple waist.

“‘ Ho-ya-pa Choo-Koo (Good Dog) has waited for his white
bfother,” said the youth, gravely.

‘And his white brother has come,” Talbot replied; ‘‘ how
long before Ho-ya-pa can bring to the person that bid him
watch the tidings that the white chief waits by the swift wa-
ters?”

‘* Before the white chief could go to his lodges down the
river and return,” said the youth, quickly.

“ Let my brother run swift as the deer and the white chief
will wait.’

 

 
MEDITATIVE. 97

Without a word, the Indian darted away, not into the can-
yon but through the thicket to the south of the river.

For a few moments Talbot could hear the sound of his light
footsteps, and then the noise grew fainter and fainter untii it
died away altogether.

Seating himself upon the trunk of a fallen tree, Talbot gave
himself up to meditation. The whole of his life passed in re-
view before him as he sat, silent and motionless, and listened
to the strange, wild cries from bird, beast and insect which
broke upon the stillness of the wilderness air.

| _— A peculiar depression had come upon him; a depression
ay that he could not really account for. It came not from the
contest in which he was engaged, for he had passed unseathed

through too many dangers for the present difficulties to af-
fect him, But there wasa dim apprehension of coming ill-
fortune that weighed like lead upon his usual buoyautspirits,

It was the old superstition of the gambler overagain. A run
of ill-luck was at hand; avert it, mortal could not, no matter
how hard the struggle. It would run its course, do its dam-
age and he succeeded by the brighter skies due to the genit,
Good Fortune.

Lost in reflection: tracing his career over and over again
from the day when, as Patrick Gwyne, he had struck the
fatal blow in the New York porter-house which had sent him,
a fugitive from justice, to the wilds of the far West, down to
the discovery of the Cinnabar mine.

“ Will I never have done with struggle and strife?” he mut-
tered, as the events of his past life came trooping back through
his brain in regular array. ‘“ Will I never taste the peace and
happiness that come from contentment and ease? Must my
life be ever a struggle, and men’s blood eternally stain my
hands?”

Buried in reflections, sad and stern, the hour passed quickly
by, but with the last minute forth from the confines of the
thicket stepped the Queen of the Shastas.

So noiseless had been her approach, and so deeply had Tal-
bot been absorbed in his reflections, that not until she stepped
into the little open space was the white conscious of her pre-
sence.

Talbot rose to his feet; the Indian girl extended her hand
eagerly, and as the strong fingers of the white closed around
the dusky palm, a thrill of delicious pleasure quivered the
form and quickened the pulse of the daughter of the wilder-

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
 

v ness.

n “ The white chief has sent for Yuet-a!” she cried, eagerly;

a “the Shasta Queen can serve the warrior who saved her from
the red McClouds. Let him speak! If he asks for great

he Shasta’s top, Yuet-a’s nails shall tear it down !”

Z “‘T have come to put to the proof the words you said,” Tal-

iof bot said, “ and I will ask as freely as the pledge was given.”

 

 

 

 
 

KENTUCK, THE 8PORT.

‘* Let the chief speak ; Yuet-a will hold as true to her word
as the sun to theearth !” the girl exclaimed, proudly, drawing
her lithe figure up to its fullest hight as she spoke.

Talbot took from his pocket the little Jump of virgin gold
which he had received from the girl in the ravine above the
dark canyon.

“Does Yuet,a remember this?” he asked.

The girl inclined her head gravely in reply.

a “You told me that there were great stores of this yellow
metal safe hid in the mountain canyons.”

‘‘Yuet-a spoke truth; would the white chief have more
yellow metal?”

Se Gee

“ How much?”

There was a sadness,apparent in the voice and manner of
the girl, and Talbot.guessed the reason only too well.

‘“Can Yuet-a give her white brother a hundred pieces?” he
asked, slowly. \

“ Two hundred,” she answered, quickly, “ and that doubled
if not enough.”

“Two hundred be it, then,” he said, “and the white chief
will return the yellow metal, within a moon.”

The girl looked at ‘Talbot in astonishment.

“ Yuet-a does not wish the chief to bring back the gift she
gives!” she exclaimed, her eyes flashing. ‘‘She would cast
the yellow lumps into the water. If the chief asked for her
heart, her own hands would give it to him, and gladly to Yo-
pitone would she chant her death-song !”

“Her white brother would bid: the Shasta Queen live, not
die,” Talbot replied, gravely. “He could not bear to think
of the death-song chanted by her lips. She must live to pre-
-serve her people from the white warriors.” .

Then a sudden thought seemed to flash over the mind of
the Indian.

“The white man is a chief among his people !” she exclaim-
ed, abruptly; ‘‘let him listen to the red queen. There are
snakes in his tribe who sting him to death.”

Talbot listened in astonishment to her words.

‘JT do not understand,” he said.

“Two white snakes have sought Heema-Naug-a, the Shasta |

chief. They offer the long fire-arrows to th¢ red warriors if —
they will do their bidding.” -

“Two white men, and from Cinnabar City?”

‘From the lodges down the river,” the giri replied, and she
pointed to where the smoke curled upward in thesky from
the mining-camp.

Talbot was puzzled; he could not understand this at all. |

“And they will arm the Shasta warriors and lead them |

against the whites?” :

The girl inclined her head in assent.

 
     
     
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
   
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    

FOR THE SAKE OF GOOD FELLOWSHIP. 99

Talbot could hardly believe that the girl was not mis-
taken.

“ But I can not understand,” he persisted; ‘who are these
men ?”

“ Yuet-a does not know.”

“ And have the red warriors accepted the offer

‘““Not yet; in four sleeps Heema-Nang-a will meet the
white chiefs on Shasta’s side, and then they will say what they
fwill do, and the red chief will decide.” -

“And you willinform me whether the Shastas decide on
peace or war?”

“ Yuet-a lives only to obey the white chief,” the maiden
replied, simply. ‘‘If be bids her die, the Shastas would
mourn their queen, for she would go straight to Yopitone’s
bosom.”

‘*How soon will you return?” Talbot asked, as the girl
made a motion to depart.

“When the sun seeks, his lodge !”

A minute more, and Talbot stood alone in the wilderness.

9”?

CHAPTER XXV.
AFTER DARK.

OnE by one the stars came out in the dark sky, and one by
one the huge-bearded, red and blue-shirted and big-footed
miners “ dropped into” the various saloons that adorned the
main street of Cinnabar City.

We say main street, because the natives termed the avenue
so, but truth compels us to acknowledge that there was. only
one street in the “lively city ” of Cinnabar.

As every third house was either a saloon or restaurant, or
the two combined, or a gambling-den or dance-house, or,both
together added on, the miners did not have far.to travel to
dispose of their hard-earned gold-dust.

The saloons, dance-houses and gaming-dens afforded the
recreation so necessary, to the sons. of toil.

After wielding the pick or shovel all day Jong in the moun-
tain gulches, or in the deep recesses of the shaft and tunnel,
or straining one’s back at the “ sluice” or ‘‘ cradle,” what was
more natural than to seek the well-lighted saloon, hear the
news of the day, and indulge in a stimulating glass, just for
the sake of good fellowship.

If a man wanted to see another man after dark in the Cin-
nabar region, if he was “ postec,” he songht his friend in the
saloons rather than at, the man’s home.

Man is naturally a gregarious animal and “ hankers” after
the society of his kind. C
~ The shanties occupied by the miners in general were not

be
mn

em

 
  

KENTUCE, THE SPORT.

palaces, and offered few inducements to keep a man in, after
dark.

Then, too, by making the rounds from one saloon to another,
one could hear all the gossip of the town. How Billy Smug
had struck it ‘‘rich” in the Grizzly Bear region; how the
Emerald lode had got the “ bed-rock,” and the company had
“*pu’sted;” how Mexican Pete, the “ Greaser” gambler had
tackled Boston Johnny’s faro bank, ‘‘ broke” the concern,
and sent Johnny, in wrath, in search of fresh fields and pas-
tures new.

All the news going was to be heard in the saloons of Cin-
nabur after nightfall,

Then, too, every other night or so there would be the fun
and excitement attending a personal encounter, and the chance
of stopping a stray bullet intended for another man.

The reader must not think that all the Cinnabar folks were
either rogues or gamblers, for that is not the truth. Out of
the three hundred citizens credited to the city and its suburbs,
one could hardly have picked out twenty desperately bad
characters. True, there was the wild recklessness common
to the frontier, where the lines of law are not strictly drawn ;
but it was a good-natured roughness, and oné that rarely
worked harm to anybody.

The mines in and near Cinnabar were all doing well, with
the single exception of the Cinnabar Company itself, undoubt-
edly the richest “strike” of them all; and, as a natural con-
sequence of the gold yield being large, the miners were flush
and business brisk.

Kentuck’s place, The Last Chance Saloon, being the largest
in town, naturally did the best business, and on the evening
of which we write, both bar-room and gaming saloon were
full of visitors.

The miners were gathered in little knots here and there;
some drinking at the bar, others discussing the news of the
day, and a few trying their luck at the faro-tabe, where Ken-
tuck, in his shirt-sleeves, sat, dealing the cards from a Ger-
man-silver box and presiding over the game universally
known far and wide, as ‘‘ the tiger.”

But a few were ‘‘ bucking ” the ‘‘ beast,” for it was only
about nine o’clock, and heavy play rarely commenced before
ten. .

Asa general rule, the miners filled themselves up pretty
well with patent “benzine,” before attempting to cut the
claws of the king of the India jungle.

Kentuck, cool and impassive as an iceberg, slipped the
eards from the box with as much composure as though at
every turn they raked in the gold-dust for him, instead of
obliging him, one-half the time at least, to ‘‘shell out” to
some lucky adventurer.

True, the “game” was small; not over twenty dollars on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
AROUND TOWN. 101

the board at any one time; but report said that Andrew Jack-
8on Hardin, late of the State of Kentucky, “flipped” the
Cards as coolly for a hundred as for one. He had the nerve,
lacking which a gambler never thrives.

Kentuck, though busy in the game, watched each visitor
that sauntered carelessly into the apartment. In atwinkling

€ would make a mental calculation, as to the probability of
the visitor tempting the whims of the fickle goddess, Dame

ortune.

Quite a number in the room had evidently come there
Merely for the purpose of passing the time by watching the
Progress of the game.

Any one was free and welcome to walk into Kentuck’s
Place, whether he played or not. The gambler himself never
tempted men to play. The green cloth was there, with the
Cards arranged in due order. If a visitor chose to bet, well
and good; if not, well and good again.

Only once in a great while would Kentuck indulge in any

_Yemarks not appertaining strictly to the conduct of the game.

If a better lost, and a “ greenhorn” fresh from the mud of
some gulch, or from the sand of some bar, ventured a jeer
upon the result, Kentuck would quietly remark that, “ per-
haps the gent from Pike—” an expression of utter contempt
common to Kentuck—* could do better, or maybe worse.”

Of course the gent from Pike—in sporting parlance—either

- put up or shut up. ;

It was about balf-past nine when the Fr'isco speculator,
Congleton, escorted by Jimmy Hughes, the landlord of the
wie ic hotel in town, the Dry-up Saloon, entered Kentuck’s
piace.

Hughes was a short, thick-set man of forty-five; a keen, en-
ergetic New Yorker, from Great Gotham itself. He had a
round, red face, fringed by a bushy, yellow beard, anda bluff
and hearty way with him that invariably created a favorable
impression.

Hughes, upon learning that his guest was the special agent
of the Cinnabar Company, instantly took upon himself the

r task of entertaining the Frisco gentleman in a suitable man-
ner. So when night had approached, the landlord of the
‘“Dry-up ” had suggested that it might possibly prove inter-
esting to Mr. Congleton to take a trip about town and see the
wonders of the metropolis of Cinnabar by candlelight. Gas
there was none, and oil there was not. ;

Mr. Congleton had accepted the invitation in the same cor-
dial spirit in which it had been given, and the twohad started.

By half-past nine they had made the rounds, and finally had
fetched up at the Last Chance.

“Powerful smart man this Kentuck,” Hughes observed, as
they entered the bar-room. ‘‘ Quite a decent sort o’ man,
too; never gets mixed up in rows or anything of that sort.

 

 
   

  

102 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Keeps the best place of the kind in town-—first chop ; more
money changes hands here in a night than in all the rest
of the faro shebangs put together; plays a good square game,
too. When I’m flush and feel like a little excitement, I
run over and go him ten or twenty dollars, just for the fun
of the thing, you know. Kinder keeps a man’s blood stirring.
Will you take something?”

One peculiarity about the landlord of the Dry-Up was, that
he rarely finished a long speech without winding up with an
invitation to imbibe. It is perhaps needless to remark that.
certain class, common not only to the mining-camp of Cinn: -
bar, but to more civilized regions, were always delighted when
Jimmy Hughes got fairly started in a lengthy discourse.

“ Thank you; I don’t mind,” Congleton remarked, urbanely.
He had a particular reason for wishing to be on good terms
with the landlord of the principal hotel in Cinnabar City, and
the prospective mayor of the young metropolis.

Foxy Greek slung a couple of glasses across the counter in
the dextrous manner peculiar to the-tribe, bar-keeper, as the
two approached.

“ Give me a little extract of copper-tacks and Prussic acid,”
said Hughes, facetiously.

The whisky bottle was produced instanter. ‘

‘Burn a hole at forty feet—dead sure on rats,” remarked
Foxy, with a grin.

“T reckon I’ve got a sheet-iron stomach, and I'll h’ist it in,”
Hughes rejoined.

This delicate pleasantry tickled the miners in the room,
and under cover of the “ha! ha!’ Hughes and Congleton
drank their liquor, paid for it, and entered the inner room,
sacred to King Faro.

‘“‘That’s Huges that keeps the Dry-Up,” one of the miners
observed, as the door closed behind that gentleman.

‘“ Yes, he’s up for mayor,” remarked another. “He can
corral my vote. I like a man that takes his liquor straight
and doesn’t sp’ile the fluid with guzzling nasty water arter it.”

CHAPTER XXVI.:
JOE BOWERS AGAIN.

“Tats fellow is jest the king-pin of the sports around this
town,” Hughes remarked, as he and Congleton entered the
gaming-room.

There were about a dozen around the table now, and the
play had grown a little higher. .

Hentack’s quick eyes noticed the two when they entered,
_ and he favored them with a nod of recognition.

 

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FIGHTING THE TIGER. 108
; More
© Test “T met this Mr. Hardin in San Francisco,” Congleton hast-
game, €ned to say. “ He told me he lived here.”
ent, I “*T reckon now you didn’t guess what kind of a business he
e fun | followed for a living ?” Hughes said, with a chuckle.
Ting, “Well, yes, I did get some.sort of an idea from what he
: said to me in regard to the business he carried on here.”
that **Oh, of course, you could guess then;-but I reckon you
h an wouldn’t if he’d kept a close mouth.”
lat, | “ Perhaps not.”
On: = “Vm going to take ten dollars’ worth of chips,” Hughes
hen observed, fishing out a ten-dollar gold-piece from his vest-
ocket. ‘‘T’ve gota ten here that I never expected to get.
ely. he fellow owed it to me nigh onto two months. I reckoned
‘ms that he had sloped, but he turned up this morning, sed he’d
od made a big strike, and planked down his money like a scholar
and a genUleman.”
in “Well, I guess that Hardin can take care of it for you, if it
he burns your pocket,” Congleton remarked, quietly.
“T reckon that Pl] make another ten outen it afore I go to
$4 my little bunk this night,” responded Hughes. Then he ap-
proached the table and bought ten dollars’ worth of chips.
“*How’s luck to-night, Hardin?” Hughes asked as he rattled
d _ the chips in his hand preparatory to betting.
‘Oh, jes’ so-so,” the gambler answered.
; “Are they breaking you?”

“T reckon a nan will have to put down a heap of chips on
this table to break this yere bank,” Kentuck retorted.

“Tm going for you, old man!” exclaimed Hughes, with a
serious air as he put two chips—two dollars—upon the
green.

There was a genera! snicker among the gamesters around
the board, at the idea of a man threatening to break the bank
and beginning operations with a two-dollar bet.

But Jimmy Hughes was well known to them all, and his
joke was understood.

The play went on. Gamesters lost and gamesters won. So
even wus the luck that it was really doubtful if the bank was
ten dollars ahead onthe evening’s play, despite the actual
percentage of advantage allowed in favor of the bank.
Hughes got ten dollars ahead, then he lost all that, and ran
six dollars behind; then he picked up a little, and got even,
and as, with a great floarish, he put down four chips upon
the green—his favorite card—and inquired if the bank could
meet the loss if the green came up a winner, the door opened
and the ragged bummer who called himself Joe Bowers stalked
nto the room,

Dilapidated miners, intent upon risking their little all upon
he turn of the card, were not at all uncommon in Kentuck’s
taloon, although the rate was high, aud he sold no checks un-
Jer a dollar. This was different from nearly all of the gaming

 

 
 

104 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

dens of Cinnabar, where a man could stake a quarter if he
had no more.

Kentuck’s eyes flashed as he noticed thé entrance of the
bummer. The gambler, though well used to dealing with
both reckless and worthless vagabonds, had taken a sudden
and most unaccountable dislike to. the veteran, Joe Bowers.
If he had attempted to give his reason for the dislike, it would
have puzzled him. But one thing was certain to his mind,
he hated the very sight of the fat and ragged bummer; and
with that hate there was mingled a slight feeling that seemed
like apprehension. Now this was something very strange.
Hardin, cool, cautious man of ice that he was, used to keep
his passions under an iron rule, taught by the precarious busi-
ness that he followed, to wear forever an invisible mask upon
his face, was yet brave almost to rashness. It is safe to say
that he never felt fear in all bis life, until the face of Joe
Bowers came before him. Perhaps it was something akin to
the feeling that seizes even upon the bravest man when in the
thicket he places his foot upon the slimy coil of the snake.
The man so situated springs back although the reptile may
be as harmless as a dried bough.

In Kentuck’s mind there was a dim remembrance that he
had either seen the features of the bummer before, or else a
face that greatly resembled his. Where or when was a mys-
tery, and yet, Hardin possessed a most wonderful memory.

Joe Bowers halted just inside the door, and cast a glance
around as if to survey the scene.

Meeting Kentuck’s eyes, he nodded to the gambler in the
most familiar manner.

The coolness of this proceeding so enraged Kentuck that it
was only by a strong effort he refrained from rising from his
seat, seizing the bummer by the neck, and kicking him into
the street. :

Then to Kentuck’s disgust, Joe Bowers came straight up tc
the table.

“The green cloth was pretty well surrounded, but as Bower
approached a stalwart miner, having “ coopered ” the tray tc
lose, and saw it turn up a winning card to his dismay, pulle
his old slouch hat down over his brows and retired ‘‘ clear -
out,” to meditate upon the uncertainty of matters in th 3
lower world.

Bowers deftly edged himself into the place left vacant ry
the departed miner, And as he did so, Kentuck scowled at
him across the table.

Little use was it though ; a man might as well have sct- .led
at the moon.

“ Tfow’s things, old pard?” asked Mr, Bowers, affectio ~wtely.
‘* How are they a-workin’, Andy ?”

Kentuck paid no attention whatever to the remérks, and
went on dealing.

 

 

 

   

oe ee

  
 

 

AN IMPERTURBABLE CHARACTER. 105

“Now, ain’t he jes’ old lightnin’?” said Mr. Bowers, in what
he evidently intended to bea confidential undertone, to his
next neighbor, a little dapper fellow who looked like a French-
Canadian. ‘‘T tells ’em all, I does, when it comes to dealin’
the papers, I puts my money up on old Kentuck every time.
That’s so, boys! jes’ you b’lieve it!” and Bowers addressed
the bystanders, who, however, paid but little attention to his
remarks, as nearly all were absorbed in watching the progress
of the game.

The cards had run outand Kentuck was shuffling them pre-
paratory to a fresh deal.

“ How are you, pard?” ejaculated Mr. Bowers, thrusting his
body half over the table so that the gamester could not avoid
noticing him. ‘‘Tll bet yer I’m glad that I slid in for to see
you, me noble dook! I told you I’d run in afore I left town.
How’s things?”

“Tf you want any checks, this gent will attend to you,”
Kentuck said, curtly, indicating his assistant.

“ Now you hit me whar [ live!” exclaimed Bowers, with a
wink at the crowd, who rather enjoyed the words of the re-
doubtable bummer. “ AsT allers says, give me Andy Hardin
for a man that allers comes right to the pint! Say, old pard,
what’s the limit?” And as the bummer asked the question,
he drew himself up with the air of a man who felt inclined
to challenge the bank to a contest of life or death by putting
down a clean thousand dollars upon a card.

‘*More money than you'll put up, my friend, I reckon,”
Hardin replied, dryly. ‘‘Just you slap down all the money
you like, and I reckon the bank will meet it.”

“ Andy, if I don’t skeer the animile with two dollars and
half, ’m your man you bet!” cried Mr. Bowers, with great
dignity.

The crowd around the table roared at this rejoinder; and
Bowers opened his big mouth in a grin and winked at the
players in triumph.

“Say! Idon’t want your money!” Kentuck cried, abruptly.
“JT reckon that you'll need all you’ve got to get out of town
with.”

“*Gentl’men, it’s evident that the bank is skeered an’ wants
te bluff me off !’ Mr. Bowers ejaculated. ‘

This was too much for the risibles of the crowd, and they
raved outright.

“Why, gentl’men,” continued Bowers, with great gravity,
“‘my old pard, hyer, knews that I’m a jes’ rollin’ in money.
Gentl’men, I’m a ree’ lur wailkin’ gold mine!”

“Tf you want to play, why play; if not, get out!” exclaimed
Kentuck, impatiently.

“Don’t he jes’ throw out the solid chunks of wisdom?” ob
served Mr. Bowers, confidently to the crowd. “ Young man,
jes’ waltz me over five dollars’ worth of chips!’ and as he

 
     

 

106 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

spoke, the bummer produced a five dollar piece from amo®
his rags and-tossed it on the table. bi

The chips were pushed across to Mr. Bowers; Kentuck

slipped the cards in the box, the players made their “gam,
and.the gambler was just about to deal when the door openet
and Dick Talbot, followed by Brown, the foreman of
Cinnabar mine, entered the apartment.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE TIGER’S JUNGLE,

Kentuck was decidedly astonished when he caught sight
of Talbot and Brown. It was the first time that the superi2
tendent and foreman of the Cinnabar Company had ever bod"
ored the Last Chance by a visit.

Joe Bowers, who happened just at that minute to be watel
ing the face of the gambler, noticed the expression of asto®
ishment apparent upon it, slight as it was, and turned arou
to see what had occasioned Kentuck’s wonder. ;

Preceiving Talbot and Brown, a broad grin came over h8
dirty face, and Mr. Bowers favored the two. with a friendly
nod of recognition,

“How are ye, pards?” he cried in salutation; ‘‘are you
goin’ to gambol a leetle on the green? Jes’ slide up hyer a2
see me clean out this hyer bank. The orig’nal Joe Bowers 8
jes’ the galoot that can cut the claws of this animile. Andy
old pard, Pll go you a dollar on the Jack!” —~ /
°° Bowers’ speech attracted general attention to the new:
comers, and one and all turned about to see who had enteré
the apartment.

The sight of Talbot and Brown excited considerable aston
ishment in the minds of the gamesters who happened to bé
well acquainted with the two,

Both of them were known to be opposed to gaming and
drinking, and it was well known, too, that they had used all
the means in their power to keep the hands under their con-
trol away from such places as the Last Chance. Quite 8
number of the men in the room knew, too, that the best 0
feeling did not exist between Kentuck the Sport, and the su-
perintendent of the Cinnabar mine, and their first thought
was that there was going to be a difficulty.

Some such idea, too, had occurred to Congleton when hé
had looked around and discovered that Talbot was in thé
room ; but the face of the superintendent showed no signs of

assion.

Talbot and Brown sauntered carelessly up to the table as if
they had merely strolled in out of curiosity.

oe

 

 

Fees fox Fe ghar ee s

dt SS +. ap OO

——

 
 

SCIENCE AND LUCK. 10?

ong jRentuck did not feel over and above easy in his mind when
uck | discovered his unexpected visitors.

e had a dim foreboding that it was no mere curiosity that

_
; | had prompted Talbot to walk into the tiger’s den, and that

‘i is errand was one of mischief.
At the first sight of Talbot, Kentuck had quietly thrust his

left hand underneath the table. In the place where a small
wer should have been was a little shelf, and on the shelf
Were two revolvers, loaded, capped and the hammers drawn
k ready for action; a sharp-pointed, keen-edged eight-inch
Wie-knife kept the. revolvers company. :
Although Kentuck had examined his weapons and placed
€m in their usual place before he opened the game that night,
Yet asort of a wish tobe sure that they were there all right had
‘ome into his mind when he saw Talbot enter the room.
Congleton nodded in the most friendly manner to the super-
ittendent and foreman as they approached the table, but their
Salutation on the contrary was cool in the extreme,
oth Talbot and Brown despised the speculator, and neither
them were men who took much pains to conceal their real
Sentiments.
he game proceeded. The newcomers stood qnietly by
4nd looked on.
ithin the short space of a half an hour, it became per-
tly apparent, not only to Kentuck, but to nearly all the
! bystanders, that the ragged bummer, Joe Bowers, knew a
ing or two in regard to the game of faro. It was quite cer-
tain to the experienced gamblers that Bowers knew exactly
hen the odds were most favorable to the bank, and when to
the player. Then, too, he had an ugly way of staking his
Money which was very annoying to the dealer, as it insinu-
&ted that the game was not a fair one. If one of the players
Made a heavy bet, say from twenty-five to fifty dollars, upon
certain card to win, Bowers would invariably back the card
lose, Of course, if the game had not been a fair one and
the dealer had complete mastery over the cards, and could
-€ither make a card to win or lose at his pleasure, naturally he
Would try to win the heavy stake by making the backed card
¥ wose, and as Bowers had backed it to lose, he of course would
- Win,
Then, too, it was very plain that Bowers was posted as to the
doctrine of chances, and played not by mere whim, as did
- ‘early all the gamesters, but by regular scientific rules. Thus
if the king had three times come up a losing card, the odds
Were greatly in favor of the fourth king winning, and upon
— “is would Bowers bet. .
_. Playing in this skillful manner, and being aided, too, by
uck, for the cards seemed te run in his favor, within half an
E hour, Mr. Bowers had increased his pile of five chips to twenty
Ormore, Then he became very cautious in hisplay. It was

 

 
 

108 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

evident that he began to be afraid that his luck would turm |
He made four or five small bets, increased his pile of checks
to twenty-five, and then with a lordly air shoved the pile of
ivory over to the cashier.

«Young man, jes’ cash up; I reckon I won’t rob the bank
any more to-night,” Mr. Bowers remarked, thoughtfully. By

this time, Talbot and Brown had secured a position right ab ]_

the back of Bowers. Happening to look around the bummel
noticed them. a
“ How are ye again, pards!” Bowers exclaimed, in his usual
affable manner. ‘“ Goin’ to play, Richard, ole fellow? Lent”
ou five if you want it.- I reckon my chips are heap Dig |
uck, as a Digger Injun would remark.” a
‘* Well, since you are so kind, I don’t mind if Ido take
five of your checks,” Talbot replied, in his cool, quiet way. |
The original Joe Bowers wasa little taken aback by thé} ,
prompt acceptance of his offer, but it was only for a secon@ |-
though, and then he rose quite equal to the occasion. ——-
“Glad to blige, old pard!” he exclaimed witha dignifiee ;
wave of his dirty paw. “ Young feller, jes’ gimme four fiv@
dollar pieces and five chips back. Whenever a friend calls
on the original Joe Bowers, he’s thar every time. Though *

say it myself, you kin jes’ put your money right on me; P| ~

right thar!” ;

Bowers received the gold-pieces and the checks, put th® |
money in his pocket and passed the checks to Talbot. The?
he made room at the table for the superintendent.

‘« Jes’ you take my place, old pard!” he suggested; ‘*1
jes’ an ole lucky place now, you kin bet. You'll win a heap.

hen Mr. Bowers shook his head mournfully at Kentuck
“Pm sorry for you, Andy, but my old side-pardner hyer wl!
clean you out for sure. I pities you, but ’tain’t none of wy
funeral.”

Kentuck’s eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

The game went on.

In about fifteen minutes Kentuck discovered to his ast0
ishment that skillful as the original Joe Bowers had prov!
to be in the difficult task of stripping the hide from * #
tiger,” without being scratched by his claws, or lacerated by
his teeth, he was far surpassed by the superintendent of
Cinnabar Company.

Talbot seemed to be able to read the cards right throu
their backs. net

Three times he backed the six to win, and three times
succession the six did win. Then he backed the last si
lose, and Jose it did.

Another point Talbot knew, and Kentuck was not long
ascertaining that the superintendent knew it, and that :
that the chances were far more favorable to the player at
commencement of the deal than in the middle or at the e2

 
aia

oa ae SU

sn ee

A HEAVY STAKE. 109

Talbot, like Joe Bowers, played by calculation and not by

ance.

As for that worthy he was delighted at Talbot’s success,

“Ttold you so, boys; them checks of mine were lucky
Checks! Jf any gentl’man in the room wants to speculate,

Il buy checks for em fur a quarter of a dollar commission.”

Though the gamesters were astonished at the success of

_ Aalbot they did not care to’accept the liberal offer of Mr. Joe

wers.
Talbot's five checks had swelled into forty within half an
our. He cashed five of them and gave the money to Bowers,

_ Who affected to receive it with reluctance.

The last card of the deal had passed from the box and Ken-
ck was shuffling, preparatory to commencing anew.

“Tm getting tired of this,” Talbot said, addressing Brown,
tin so loud a tone that his words were audible to all in the

/ mom “‘T might as well play for enough to make it interest-
ag

» for I seem to be in luck to-night. What’s the limit to
e game?”

4 __ Kentuck understood that this question meant business.

“No limit; you can bet all you like,” he replied.

“Well, I intend to bet pretty high. Weigh that, will you?”
+albot laid a buck-skin bag of gold-dust upon the table.

“A thousand and twenty dollars,” said the cashier, after

. the dust was weighed.

, Correct ; that’s exactly what Billy McArdle said the am-
twas. Well, I'll put that thousand and twenty dollars
Pon the six to win,” and Talbot placed the bag upon the
Card. «“ We might as well do without the checks and come

} ~©Wn to the solid stuff.”

to pontuck hesitated for a moment, but his natural pluck came
tis rescue,

‘All right; the bank will see it; game all made, gentle-

’ Men ”

aly a few took the hint, for all were more intent upon
Ed Atching the big play than to play themselves.

Mt Bet any gentl’men five dollars that the six wins!” cried
_*. Bowers, vigorously.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
‘* PASS IN YOUR CHECKS !”

Pa anybody’s mutton that the six wins !” repeated Bowers,
flantly, but no one seemed inclined to take up the ban-

’ Congleton was decidedly astonished at the amount in pos-
‘lon of the superintendent. The thousand and twenty
ars so boldly risked upon the chance of a card winning o1

 
nn ae

 

110 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

4
losing would almost suffice to pay off the hands vf the Cin
bar Company and start the works again.

The speculator consoled himself, however, with the thought }_
that the six might not win, and then Kentuck would “rake-
in” the superintendent’s dust. =

Not the least astonished man in the room was Brown, thé |
foreman. ‘

Talbot had suddenly made a raid upon Brown’s quarters | -

about nine o’clock, and suggested a walk around town. Brown
had consented, nothing loth, and the two started, dropping

in here and there, until at Jast they halted in front of the 4

Last Chance. .
Talbot remarked that he had never been in the place and
proposed to take a look inside. 4
Brown of course assented, and the two had entered. 7

The foreman was considerably amazed when Talbot ac
cepted the loan of five checks from Bowers, and had com-_
menced playing, but it was nothing compared to his astonish |
ment when Talbot produced the solid bag of gold-dust and }-
coolly wagered a thousand and twenty dollars that the six |
would win.

Brown was so much astonished that it rendered him speech-
less; he could only look on in profound amazement, his eye’ |
assuming a saucer-like appearance. —

Kentuck gave a glance around the board as if to assure him-
self that all probable bets had been made.

Very few had “chipped” in; the big bet had “ kinder” | :

frigatened off the little ones. 4

Slowly and deliberately Kentuck commenced to deal. If |
was not every night that he flipped the cards with a thousaD
dollars and over plunked down upon the board.

There was only just a second or two of suspense, for the |

first winning card that came out was the six of hearts, a
The bystanders drew a long breath of relief; Congleton —

checked a muttered curse that rose to his lips, and just @ |

single drop of perspiration oozed out upon the forehead of
Kentuck.
Talbot himself was as cool as an icicle. Brown ejaculated,

“By thunder!” evidently wonderstruck, while Mr. Joe Bowers — ;

loudly demanded to know where the man was who had takeD
up his bet that the six would win.

Kentuck took a second look at the red-faced six of hearts
as if to assure himself that his eyes had not deceived him;
then he cast a look upon the money, the capital of the bank, —
displayed upon the table, saw that there was only some five —
hundred dollars or so, and took a buck-skin bag from its rest
ing-place on the little shelf, where the revolvers and bowle —
knife reposed, counted out sixty twenty-dollar gold-pieces an@ —
shoved them across the table toward the winner, es

A very long breath indeed came from the majority of the —

 
FOR AND AGAINST. 111

lookers on, and many a mouth watered at the sight of the

ttle heap of gold coins.

_ Talbot put down his hand, scooped up the double eagles in a
ittle heap by the side of the bag of gold-dust, and moved the
fntire ‘‘ concern” to the seven spot.

. “Two thousand and forty dollars that the seven wins,” he
_ Said, as coolly and calmly as if the dollars were but cents.

_ Kentuck took a short, quick breath, and his eyes snapped
&s he looked upon the money piled upon the card. He hesi-
ited. Talbot’s luck had run so good that the gambler feared
to accept the bold defiance.

As for the ‘‘ lookers-on in Vienna,” each and every one
€dged closer and closer up to the table, as though they feared

_ that they would miss seeing some part of thefun. Then, too,
it was not every day that the proprietor of the Last Chance
Could be forced to consider whether he dared to accept a ban-
ter or no.

Naturally the sympathy of the crowd was with Talbot and
Against the bank. Hardly a man in the little crowd, with the
€xception of Congleton, who wouldn’t gladly have given five

| dollars to see the bank forced to suspend operations. Break-

| Igabank was almost equal to a first-class “ ruection” with

Tevolvers and bowie-knives to the fore.

Joe Bowers was wild with delight.

_“ That’s the ticket!” he cried, vociferously ; “all down but
Nine—set ’em up again! Vl go twenty-five dollars that the
Seven-spot wins!”

And suiting the action to the word, Bowers laid down
twenty-five dollars by the side of Talbot's bet.

} , A few others of the gamesters, carried away by the belief
that Talbot’s luck would Jand him a winner, followed the ¢x-

_ &mple of Mr. Joe Bowers, and deposited small sums upon the

ard, each and all wagering that tue seven-spot would win.

“Go fur it, boys!” suggested Bowers; ‘‘ thar’s luck in odd
Numbers! My old pard hyer is dead sure to win, Gentle-
Men I disremember ever secin’ him break at. this ’ere game.

_ Andy, Ym sorry fur you, but I reckon that you hev’ to quit
ater this round.”

“You'd better keep your jaw to yourself!” Hardin retorted,
§ngrily. “ Yew won't bu’st the concern, anyway !”

‘“*Im goin’ to help, ole man !” said Mr. Bowers with a grin.
Pl take twenty-five ‘checks’ outen you!”
| . Kentuck was undecided. There was now a little over

. Wwenty-one hundred dollars on the board, and each and every

Oar laid that the seven would win. Talbot had been un-
Unal.y lucky; there was a chance that his good fortune
Might desert him at any moment; why not now with this

_ Reavy stake pending? :

Such was the question that the gambler asked himselt,

~ “Come; are we going to have a show, or is the bh.

he

 
112 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

broke?” asked Talbot, his tone just a trifle irritating to the
ears of Kentuck. 4

““P}] go a hundred dollars that the seven loses !” exclaimed |
Congleton, abruptly, drawing out five double-eagles from bis |
pocket as he spoke, and addressing Talbot. The speculator |
had become strangely excited. He had learned to hate Tak |
bot, and it galled him when he saw that Kentuck hesitated to |
_accept the bold defiance of the superintendent of the Cinna-
bar mine. The Frisco sharp felt sure that Talbot would lose, |
and he wanted to spur the gambler on to accepting the wae]

er.
a I’m your man, sir!” Talbot replied, quickly, and he drew —
a buck-skin bag from his pocket, which bore Billy McArdle’s”
signature and a hundred dollar mark. ‘Just weight that,
Jonny ! !” and he tossed the bag to the cashier, who ‘inst: rntly
transferred it to the scales.

We have before neglected to mention that a pair of scales |
to weigh gold-dust forms a highly useful part of the equip-
ment of every gaming-saloon in the mining region.

“*Co-rect!” said the cashier, tersely. |

“Pll stake you another hundred that the seven loses!" ex: |
claimed Congleton, hotly, showing out a handful of money. |

“ Done!” cried T albot, producing another little bag. “ Now |
Tl] bet you a hundred more, or two hundred, or five hundred, |
or a thousand, or as much money as you choose to put down |
on the table! shell it right out! Pll cover it!”

After this Mr. Bowers could restrain himself no longer.

“Qld man, I don't mind if I go you twenty-five dollars!”
he howled, shaking his dirty fist in Congleton’s face.

The excitement was now at its hight. 1

“Vl bet yer five dollars, rocks!” ‘yelled agaunt miner, who |
didn’t look as if he had five cents in the world. i

“Tl go you ten !” shouted another. -.

“Two dollars anda half that the seven wins!” bellowed i
Long Tom Merigan, the gentleman from Pike, making 2 ©
frantic rush at the speculator. :

_And in a second Congleton was surrounded by an eager,
and to tell the ‘truth, a dirty crowd, all clamorous to back
Talbot's bet.

The man from Frisco perceived at once that he was not sO —
expert in the game of bluff as he had imagined. 4

“T reckon I’m satisfied with the two-hundred bet,” he said, —
in confusion, 4

“Oh, go me twenty-five !” implored Mr. Bowers, patheti —
call ”

We haven’t heard yet whether the bank will play or not,”
Talbot observed, quietly. ,

Then all of a sudden Kentuck made up his mind. At thé
worst it would not break him entirely. If luck ran against —
him, and he lost, in a week or so he would make it up again q

 
‘(mHE BANK IS BROKE.” 118

ih “The bank will play, gentlemen,” he said, decidedly
“Your game made ?”

Then hungry, wolfish eyes. glared upon the gambler, and
Upon the faro lay-out and the shining box which held the

| Cards.

Even the land of the gamester trembled. Two men alone
_ Of the throng around the table seemed calm, and betrayed no
traces of excitement. The first was Talbot, and the second,
_ the original Joe Bowers. —¢
So intense was the excitement that tae gamesters were as
Still as mice, intent on nightly prey.
The play commenced; first cume a six, then a queen, then
& jack, then a seven—
Talbot had won.
“The bank is broke; pass in your checks, gentlemen,” Ken-
_ tuck said.

\

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE SERENADE.

Tue lights were out in the gaming saloon of the Last
Chance, although the bar-room in front was still in full blast.

The gamesters had received their winnings and departed.
Of course it did not take long for the news to circulate around
town that the superintendent of the Cinnabar Company had
iroken Kentuck’s bank, and by the time that the astonishing
tidings had been freely commented on for a half-hour or so,
the report of Talbot’s winnings had swollen all the way from

ve to twenty thousand dollars.

All the hands attached to the Cinnabar mine rejoiced, ex-
Cept the ringleader of the strikers, Yankee Jim. The hands
elt sure of their money now, but Jim would rather have lost
ond two weeks’ wages due him than see Talbot hold his posi-
ion,

Some half a dozen of the Cinnabar men got together, egged
0n by Joe Bowers—who had given a flaming and a most
Claborate account of how the Cinnabar superintendent had
- Pared the nails of Kentuck’s tiger—and they had_resolved to
Serenade the superintendent in first-class style. Bowers had
Willingly agreed to lead the singers, stating that he had once
been the middle-man for a minstrel band.

Instrumental musie was difficult to procure in lively Cinna-

ar City, and after much discussion as to certain miners
_ known to sometimes torture unoffending instruments, some

One of the crowd suddenly thought of the negro who played
the banjo in the Last Chance saloon.

As Bowers explained, it would bea high old joke to seren-
ade Kentuck’s conqueror with Kentuck’s own musician.

The idea tickled the crowd, and a committce was instantly

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

appointed to visit the saloon and secure the banjo-player, and |
as Long Tom Merigan, the “ member from Pike,” was at the}
head of the committee, and significantly remarked that be]
‘*reckoned ” he could persuade the “dark” to come, or els@ |
there would be ‘‘a first-class chance for a funeral,” at the santé
time picking his teeth with a bowie-knife a foot long at least, |
it was not doubted that the gentle musician would accept the |
pressing invitation. ‘

Long Tom had conceived a most wonderful respect for
Talbot, ever since the time when the superintendent had |
made so free with his ear.

The committee succeeded; and, headed by the old negro |
an banjo, took up the line of march for the Cinnabar
works. f

Naturally, the novelty of these proceedings attracted quite |

alittle crowd. All the miners floating about the street and
in the saloons hastened, when they heard the sounds of the
banjo, to discover what was the meaning of the unusual
noise; and when they heard the delegation express their de-
termination to serenade Superintendent Talbot on account of
his breaking Kentuck’s faro-bank and winning fifty thousand
dollars—it had risen to that sum by the time the procession
got fairly under way—almost every one concluded to ‘‘ go
along.” So, by the time the serenading party reached the |
Cinnabar mine, there were nearly fifty men marching in tol-
erably regular order behind the banjo-player; tolerably, we
say, considering the usual condition of the Cinnabar bucks at |
midnight.

When the procession halted and commenced to pepare for |
the serenade, a slight difficulty arose. The aged» negro’s |
knowledge of tunes was limited; “Old Bob Ridley,” ‘* Vir- —
ginia Rose,” ‘‘ Nancy Till,” and a few other simple airs were
all that he could accomplish.

Bowers, nothing daunted, directed thé “dark” to sail in om
the “ Virginia Rose,” and pitched into:

“*The mo-on is beam-ing o’er the la-ke,
Co-me, s8a-il in me li-ght ca-o0-00!’”

Then Mr. Bowers and the music broke down altogether. |

“T kin not, gentl’men !” the fat bummer ejaculated, in dis- |
gust; “‘ this hyer old piccaroon ain’t fit fur to play fur a bliné —
owl fur to dance !”

“You jes’ go ’way, white man! ‘fore de Lord, I'll jes’ foteh | -
you a lick dat will make you t’ink dat you is sent furan’ can’t |
come !” cried the African, rising ina rage and grasping the |

banjo with both bands, intent upon converting it into an of-
fensive weapon, ;

Probably the singer and the musician would have come to | —

blows, as the miners were just in the humor to enjoy the fun,

had not Talbot’s appearance at the door of his shanty attract- | _

ed their attention.

—

 
  

 
  
  
 
 
 
 

  

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
  

 
 
 

  

THE MOUNTAIN FEVER. 115

“Thar he is!” exclaimed Bowers, in joy; “ thar’s ny old
pard, R. Talbot, Esquire! He’s the man wot went into the
tiger’s den an’ peeled the hide right off the animile, without —
hary scratch or turning a hair; let out, boys; yell fur him;

hip, hip, hurrah!”

And the crowd took up the shout, vigorously.

“Thats the man that won seventy-five thousand dollars at a’
lick, an’ I see’d him do it!” cried Mr. Bowers.

By this time Talbot understood that this demonstration had
been gotten up entirely in his honor.

“Pm very much obliged to you, gentlemen,” he said,
“very much flattered by this honor, but I really must request
a vo levant at once. My wife is very sick indeed, and the

east noise disturbs her.” a

“ Wot ails her, old pard ?” asked’ Bowers sympathetically.

‘“‘'The mountain fever,” replied Talbot.

— ‘We ’pologize, old pard,” said Bowers, with great dignity,
removing his tattered hat ; ‘didn’t know that thar was sick-
hess in the family. We'll dust, you bet! An’ you, you
durned old banjo-player, wot do yer mean by comin’ an’
howlin’ an’ kickin’ up a row when a man’s wife is sick?
Ain’t you ’shamed of yerself?” demanded the bummer, with
Breat dignity.

Talbot retreated into the house and closed the door behind
lim, Slowly the assemblage dispersed. The rough, boister-
ous miners, a quarter of them at least under the influence of
liquor, trod as softly as though they were stepping or egg-
shells as they stole away from the house wherein lay the sick
Woman,

As for the negro banjo-player, after Mr. Bowers’ reproving
words, he had not stood upon the order of his going, but van-
ished at once into the darkness.

“Say, what is the mountain fever, anyway?” demanded a
“yilgrim” fresh from the East.

‘© Wot is it” cried Mr. Bowers, who happened to be near
at hand when the question was asked. .‘‘ Wot is it?” he re-
Peated, in a tone which at once betrayed profound contempt
for the ignorance of the questioner and wonder that he should
be so ignorant. ‘ Wal, I reckon a cuss that has ever once
had a touch of the mountain fever will be apt to remember it.
Fust you feel a pain in your head, then a gnawing in the
region-where you stow away your victuals, then a cold sweat
all over you. You feel as if you'd like to die, then you feel
sorry that you don’t I’ve jes’ seen a reg’lar old mountain
hunter, weighin’ nigh onto two hundred pounds, fotched
right down in a couple of days, so that he wouldn’t have stood
no show in a fight with a sick tom-cat.” ia

Then, as was usual with Mr, Bowers when almost any sub-
ject was started, he proceeded to retate a series of tales, each
‘one more murvelous than its predecessor, of the wonderful

:

 

    
 
 

 

116 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

ravages that he had seen the mountain f¢ver inflict upon’

friends and acquaintances of his royal self.
Strict adherence to the truth compels us to state that, by.

twelve o’clock, the original Joe Bowers, Esquire, and his im-.

mediate following, were sadly under the influence of strong |

liquors, and were making night hideous by executing war- |

dances, with splendid imitations of the war-whoop of the In- |

dians, in front of the Last Chance saloon.

After Talbot had closed the door in the face of the delega- a

tion, he went at once to the bedside of his wife.
The dark-eyed girl who had loved Injun Dick with such a
strange, peculiar passion, had changed wonderfully in a few

short hours. The glorious dark eyes had sunk deep within |

the head; the sqft cheeks were pale and hollowed by the
fever that held possession of the light, fragile frame.

It needed but a single glance to tell that the woman was not
long for this world.

As Bowers had truly stated, earth held not a sickness that
could compare in torture with the dreaded mountain fever.

‘* What was it, Dick ?” she asked, feebly, as Talbot resumed
his seat by her bedside.

“Some of the boys wanting to give mea serenade. You
remember I told you when I came in that I had broken the
bank owned by this Kentuck.” ‘

“ Yes, | remember,” she said, slowly; ‘‘ you have been suc-
cessful?”

“Oh, quite successful. I have won over three thousand
dollars. I shall be able to keep my promise to the hands, and
settle with them in full to-morrow. I can start the works
again. Ihave triumphed so far. You remember I told you
that I thought this special agent wished to get both Brown
and myself out of the Cinnabar Company, and I havea sus-
picion that Kentuck is in some way mixed up with Congle-
ton.”

“ But you have got the best of itso far?” she asked, with
strange earnestness.

“ Yes,” Talbot replied, astonished at her manner and a lit-
tle alarmed by it. ‘‘ Why do you ask that?”

“ Because I had a fearful dream,” she murmured, a shudder
quivering her slight frame. ‘I dreamed that I was dead,
and [ seemed in a spirit form to be hovering over the earth.
There came a great noise—the sound of deadly strife; I seemed
to see you struggling with a host of foes, and your hands
were dripping red with blood.”

Quietly Talbot put his strong arms around the nervous wo-
man, and drew her to his breast.

“Don’t tremble, dear; it was only a dream,” he said.

 
ong
yar
In-
ga-
a
2W
in
he

ot

THE PLOTTERS.

CHAPTER XXX.
A SUDDEN ATTACK.

Kenrvuck and Congleton sat together in the now deserted
Zaming-saloon. A single candle placed upon the faro-table
Shed a glimmering, uncertain light around.

After the gamesters had cashed their checks and departed,
Hughes and Congleton, with a nod to the enraged gambler,
and a “better luck next time,” had followed the example of
the rest and retired.

After Congleton had arrived at the hotel, he had parted
from Hughes, apparently to go to bed, but in reality to return
to the Last Chance, and deliberate with his fellow-plotter
upon the plan of action to be pursued.

The door of the gaming-room was closed and bolted, but a
word to the bar-keeper, communicated by him to Kentuck,
caused that individual to shove back the bolt and admit the
speculator.

The place, lit up only by the single candle, looked ex-
tremely desolate to Congleton when he thought of the exciting
scene that had occurred within the room, and in which he
had played so prominent a part.

Kentuck sat down by the table, and resting his elhow upon
it, supported his cheek on his hand in a very gloomy manner,

Congleton helped himself toa seat; and as he glanced at
the table where the cards were spread out in luring array, *
bitter curse came to his-lips ashe thought of the two hundrea
dollars that the superintendent had ‘ corraled,”

“Did you ever see such infernal luck?” cried Kentuck, ab-
ruptly.

*« Never,” replied Congleton, decidedly.

“T thought that | had him foul.”

“Sure things are very uncertain sometimes,” the speculator
observed, dryly, and he sighed. He thought of that “leetle”
two hundred.

“Tvs a mystery to me where he managed to raise the dust,”
Kentuck said, slowly. ‘‘I understood you to say that he only
had a couple of hundred.”

“So he told me,” Congleton replied. “He distinctly said
that he was down to the bed-rock—that he and Brown had
prid out all the money that they had to keep the works go-
ing.”

“ Well, he either lied to you, or else he made a raise out of
somebody, curse him!” Kentuck exclaimed, bitterly.

“ Curse him all you like, but curse me if he hasn’t got the

 
   

     
 
 
 
 
    
   
 
   
   
    
    
   
    
    
    
 
   
   
   
   
   
    
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
    
   
   
   
   

118 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

 
 

} best of us!’ Why, he’ll be able to pay the hands off with ont
| own money, and after our getting him into the hobble, tool

i Hardin, we’ve been beat right at our own game.”
Bi “Thats no news,” Kentuck rejoined, gloomily. “If 1
H i hadn’t been a cursed idiot, I might have known that thar was”
Af mischief afoot when I saw him come into the saloon. Why,

   
 

   

sport, he came hyer jist on purpose to break the bank. He is } Fart o

no greenhorn at playing faro; I saw that right at the beginn« | broker

ing. Te managed to flax you, too, on that side bet.” } Can ei

“Yes; I got excited. I thought that the seven would lose, and q

and, of course, the more we won of him the better.” Then @ | Supp

sudden idea occurred to Congleton. ‘‘ Do you suppose that- keeps

he has been playing ‘ possum’ all the time—that he’s gos likes

| plenty of money, and that he only pretends to be short of | exact
i funds?” laws
“What's the use of speculating about any such thing as } Mak

that?” asked Kentnck, impatiently. ‘‘He’s got the money ear

now whether he had it before or not. He’ll be able to start ki

the works to-morrow, sure enough.” and

“Well, we must buck at him ag’in!” Congleton exclaimed, | Com

in a very decided manner. “ One trick don’t make a game, Wwe

nor two for that matter. He’s bluffed us off this time; now inte

then for the next attack.”

“Goin! I’m with you if it takes every dollar that P've got
in the world, or every drop of my blood! Anything to get
square for this night’s work,” Kentuck cried, fiercely.

“Tve got it planned out nice,” Congleton said, with a
knowing shake of the head. “ I’m special agent of the com-
{ pany, and sent up here with full authority to act as the com-

ih pany itself. Now I purpose to serve a notice on both Talbot
Hh | and Brown that their services are no longer required by the

i} Cinnabar Company, and that they will forthwith turn over to

the man I shall appoint all the property in their hands belong-
ing to the company, and render a full account of their acts
since they have been in possession of the mine.”

“They will laugh at such an order.”

“Exactly; but there is an old saying that le laughs best
who laughs last,” Congleton said, shrewdly, ‘The legal
points I make are, Talbot and Brown turned over the mine to

.. the company in consideration of so many shares of stock and
~~ of their being appointed to the positions, of superintendent
-. and foreman of the works, at certain salaries and considera-
tions. The file to the mine rests in the company. If the
company fails to keep its agreement with Messrs. Talbot and
Brown, then they have their remedy by an action at law for
damages, present and prospective; but as for their altempting
to wrest the right and title of the mine from the company, it
can’t be dene !”

“Well, I don’t know much about the law,” Kentuck said,
reflectively. ‘I’ve always tried to keep out of ils reach as

oj

fof ee Tea gee SPE ng

     
   
   
     
   
   

 
CONGLETON’S PLAN. 119

ch as possible. It has felt for me once or twice, but I was
‘Always too quick for it.”
“YTreckon that I am pretty well posted in regard to legal
‘} Matters,” Congleton observed, with great complacency.
“You see, if the company puts the two men out of their posi-
tions, they'll have an ugly case for a lawyer to take hold of.
rt of the original contract will have been kept and part
roken. Besides, it costs money to carry-on lawsuits. Gold
an either oil the legal wheels so that they will run smooth
nd quickly, or clog the machine to a turtle-like rate of speed,
uppose I turn the two out? They sue the company; that
‘eeps up a row and naturally down goes the stock; no man
likes to buy a lawsuit, you know. That answers our purpose
exactly. We want to ‘corral’ the stock at a low figure; the
awsuit is just the thing to frighten the stockholders and
Make ’em weaken in their grip. It will take two or three
Bere mayde five or more—to get any sort of a decision; for
kin make out a strong case for the company, that Talbot
and Brown were not fit for their positions and wasted the
— Company’s funds; then, after the decision is finally given—for
We can keep on appealing and appealing the case until we get
into the Supreme Court—if Talbot and Brown beat us, we
in afford to settle with them, for I-reckon by that time we
in make a million apiece out of the mine.”
Kentuck saw at once how feasible was the scheme of the
Wily speculator. Only one objection occurred to him.
_ “As I said, Talbot and Brown will laugh at you when you
inform them that they must give up their positions.”
“Let ’em laugh!” cried Congleton.
“But what I mean is, they won’t give up their positions,”
“Tien we'll appeal to the law to make ’em, I’ve been
Pipe-layin’ already,” Congleton said, with a wink. “ Hughes
ls pretty sure to be elected mayor, particularly if we go in and
Work for him. 1 kin fix him so that he will throw the weight
of the law on our side. Then, if Talbot and his gang shows
fight, why we’ll raise a regular army and take the mine by
Main force. lf there should happen to be anybody killed in-
the row, which is mighty probable, we can make this region
too hot to hoid Talbot. “Mind you, he ain’t over and above
Popular now. The boys don’t like his interfering in behalf of
the Chinamen, the other day. There’s a p’int that we kin
Work strong against him. Oh, I tell you that we’re going to
Wist Mister Talbot outen the Cinnabar mine or thar ain't any
Wirtue in money or brains!”
“Then in the first place we must go in to elect Hughes
“That's the first p’int!”
“Then, after the election, we'll serve the notices on the
Superintendent and foreman, and if they stick, call on Hughes
‘or authority to raise a force to put ’em oul.”
“Pxactly; we must keep the law on our side, you know te

”

 
   
 

 

 

 

 

   
  
   

120 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

dd to the
nh 10 the
custo

and Congleton winked significantly at Kentuck. ‘‘ You s
if they offer resistance, it will be obstructing the officers of thi
oe in their duties, and we'll be fully justified in wiping 4 AON *

- | los err

“Tt will work!” cried Kentuck, starting to his feet, a gloomy ; a
sort of smile upon his sallow face. “TI had an idea somethi§ | jhe ead.
like it, but your plan is much the best.” ‘J my time

“ What was your idea?” Congleton asked, also rising. «Wh

“Let us take a turn in the open air and [ll explain; my | giver p
head is hot staying in this close room.” 1

Kentuck led the way into the outer saloon. All the cus |
tomers had departed, and Foxy was about closing up for the ;
night.

The cool evening air, Jaden with balmy perfume from thé
pines of the mountain-side, felt refreshing. :

Even the two gold-hearted, revengeful plotters, with theif }_
thoughts full of malice, could not help noticing how beautiful ~
was the night. 4

“ This is splendid, isn’t it?” exclaimed Kentuck, and as he-
spoke he turned his head to look up at the star-spangled —
sky.

The movement saved his life, for even as the last word
passed the gamble1’s lips, the sharp crack of a revolver broke
upon the stillness of the night, and the leaden slug whistled
within an inch of the ear of Kentuck. '

A second bullet followed the first, but not directed with
near so careful an aim, for it entered the front of the house, a
yard or so above the gambler’s head.

  

 

CHAPTER XXXII.
A MYSTERY,

Wirn the speed of an antelope, Kentuck darted from the
moonlit street round the corner of the shanty, into the shade
of the building.

He had seen the two littie flashes of fire preceding the
shots, and had noted that the man who had so coolly and
abruptly attempted his life must be concealed in the shadow
of a little tumble-down, deserted shanty, two hundred feet or
so from the saloon, and situated on the other side of the
street.

Congleton had followed the example of the gambler with a
degree of quickness about his movements that was really
wonderful.

Concealed by the shadow cast by the house, Kentuck peered
out, endeavoring to discover who had fired the shots,

The noise of the discharging of the weapon excited no at-
tention whatever. The citizens of Cinnabar were too much
  
  
  
    

A LUCKY CITANCE. 121

d to the quick, sharp crack of the pistol to pay any atten-
9n to the shots we have described. Besides, it was a com
Mon custom for the miners and storekeepers to empty their
Weapons after dark by discharging them, that they might re-
gloomy oad them afresh.
nething |“ Durned close work !” ejaculated Kentuck; with a shake of
| tle head. “ Did you hear that first bullet whistle? I thought
| “Yy time had come!”
n; my} .“ Who do you suppose it is?” Congleton asked, a slight
| Shiver passing over his stalwart frame,
e cus | , ‘You're too much for me,” Kefftuck answered. “ All I
or the know about it is, that I heard the bullets whistle as they cut
: rough the air, and that I saw the flash of the flame in the
n the | Shadow of that shanty over the way.
4 “Do you feel sure that the shots were fired at you?” the

You
TS of th
IDE en

-

their eculator inquired. He felt a little uneasy in his mind.
tiful | This being made a target of by some concealed foe was not
&t all to his taste.
| he | “T reckon if Ihadn’t happened to cant my head up jest
led | 88 the cuss fired, that I would have been having a slight con-
} Yersation with the old head fellow down-stairs by this time,”

xd | Kentuck replied, perfectly serious.

ke - “But, who do you suppose fired the shots?” said Congle-

ed ton who felt alittle relieved by the positive opinion of the gam-_
‘ ler that the unknown assailant had selected him as a target.

h | | “Some man that wants to git squar’ with me, Ireckon, but

a Til be blamed if I kin guess who it is!”

‘Not Talbot?”

“Oh, no!” Kentuck replied, at once; ‘it isn’t his style.
This is some poor, mean shoat that’s been lying in wait for
Me to come out. You see, he had a splendid chance to draw
a bead on me when we stood talking in front of the house.
As I said afore, if I hadn't lifted up my head, it would have
settled me for sure. The second shot that he fired in a hurry
Wasn’t within a foot of me.”

“J can’t make out anything over there,” Congleton ob-
served, trying to pierce with his eyes the dark shadow which
hung around the upper end of the tumble-down sbanty op-
- Posite.

7 “The galoot is probably crouched down by the road. Tl
see whi it is, inside of five minutes, if you choose to take a
hand in the game.”

Now the speculator was no coward, although he was ex-
tremely desirous of keeping his well-preserved person from

: the possibility of harm as far as lay within his power.

“T cuess you can count me in,” he replied. ;

“The man is thar, sure,” Kentuck said, in a very decided
tone. “Ive kept my eyes on the place, and I reckon I conld
have seen a rabbit if it attempted to sneak away, the moon is

4 30 bright. You're armed?” t

 

 
122 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

In answer, Congleton drew a revolyer—navy size-—from
der his coat. 3

‘ All right; now you jes’ keep watch here; [ll make a
ele round and take this fellow in the rear. If anybody stef
out from behind that shanty over thar, you jes’ jump up a]
cover him with your shoot!n’-iron.”

Congleton nodded and drew back the hammer of
“navy ” that he held in his hand.

Then, Kentuck glided round the back of the shanty with?
step as noiseless as an Indian brave treading his wily Pp
through a sleeping camp®f foes, and disappeared in the da
ness.

“Now, I must be carefui that I don’t make a mistake a?
pop over this sport,’ Congleton muttered. ‘‘If he an
owned the mine, I reckon that my fingers would be might!
nervous. But, as it is, 1 need him an@ I mustn’t spoil
own game,”

Five minutes at least Congleton watched and waited. N

 

ae

even a mouse seemed to be stirring in his vicinity, althougs”
ever and anon he could hear the wild war-whoop of som®
drunken mincr, pursuing his devious way to his shanty.

Then, all of asudden, from the shadow of a shanty abot
fifty feet or so from the ambush where the. concealed a
sin hid, Kentuck jumped, and, cocked revolver in hand, 78” ]_

toward the dilapidated ruin. , a

Congleton at once sprung forward and followed Kentuck* |
example.

At each step both the gambler and the speculator expecté
to see the little flash of flame and hear the sharp, quick crac
of the revolver. at

But both were disappointed. em:

When Congleton reached the shanty he found Kentw@® |
gazing down in utter astonishment upon a man. curled up ©
the ground fast asleep. b

The man was the original Joe Bowers, and by his hea@
and irregular breathing evidently much the worse for liquo!

The two were puzzled, for both had recognized the vetera®
bummer. ; iy

Kentuck casta quick, sharp glance around, but there was?”
a single soul within sight.

“He’s playing "possum !” Kentuck cried, and he drew bs
his foot and booted the sleeping man with a degree of vig
that gave strong proof that the gambler was well develop
in the lower limbs. ye

Joe Bowers woke up very suddenly, and rising to a sittina—
posture, remonstrated against. the. assault with some of rhe
most remarkable oaths that were ever invented. Then hest
denly discovered who was. his assailant.

“ An’ is it my old. pard ?” he exclaimed, in wonder.
be blessed ef I didn’t think I recognized the kick!"

,

7

 
I A TIGHT PLACE. 23

You infernal crazy galoot, I’ve a good mind to blow the
ull top of your head off!” Kentuck exclaimed, in wrath,
Keeling his revolver threateningly at the head of the bumn-
er,
_, “Hol on--what yer ’bout?” cried Mr. Bowers, dodging the
" leveled muzzle in great dismay. ‘“ You wouldn’t shoot a fel-
i you know?”
| “What did you fire at me for?” demanded the gambler,
Sterniy, still keeping the revolver unpleasantly near to the
.| head of the bummer.
| «. Wot’s that?” asked Bowers, in profound astonishment
| Who fired at you, Andy, me boy?”
, “You did, you infernal scoundrel!” thundered Kentuck,
ina rage, and then he lifted up his foot and fetched Bowers
4 thundering kick.
“Hol on! don’t dothut! you hurts me; ’sides, you wears
} ut my clothes!” Mr. Bowers remonstrated.
““ What made you fire those two shots at me?”
“Me fire at you ?” the bummer asked.
“Yes, you, you cowardly sneak!” replied Kentuck; “ what
did I ever do to you?”
«  Nuffin; who sed you did?” cried Bowers, indignantly.
Show me the man that says you did, old pard, an’ I'll jest
Warm him !”
“See hyer!” cried Kentuck, sternly. “Tl give you just
two minutes to tell me why you fired those shots at me, and
if you don’t, I’ll plaster your brains all over the side of this
Shanty!’ And as the gambler spoke, he pressed the cold
Muzzle of the revolver against the head of the bummer. _ Sit-
Nated as he was, his back pressed against the house and the
istol against his forehead, Mr. Joe Bowers might be said to
| %e in a tight place.
| + But the bummer did not seem to be much alarmed ; pos-
Sibly he was so thoroughly soaked in liquor that he did not
Understand the danger that threatened him.
“Now let up, old pard,” he suid, in expostulation. ‘‘T
ain’t done nuffin to nobody. I’ve jes’ been out with the boys,
| 4n’ I felt a leetle tired an’ snoozed down hyer. Look a-hyer,
if yon fire off that pop-gun you'll sp’ile this hyer wall, an’
léssed if I pays the damages. Andy, ole man, you bin
drinkin’. You ought to know that old Joe Bowers wouldn't
do nuttin to you!”
“Where’s your revolver?” asked Congleton, for the first
time joining in the conversation.
“Why, rocks, is that you? An’ you wouldn’t go me twenty-
five orn that seven winnin’!’ ‘and Bowers grinned with a
drunken leer in the faces of the two enraged men.
“ Where’s the pistol ?” demanded Kentuck.
“Oh, my prophetic soul, me uncle!” exclaimed Bowers. -
I pawned it in Yreka; three bulls, two to one you don’t

 

 
 

124 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

take out what you putin. If you don’t b’lieve me, s’arch m'
I'm jes’ the old orig’nal Joe Bowers !”

The two accepted the invitation, and did search him, bu
found no weapon.

In baffled anger, Kentuck bestowed another hearty kick ]
upon the astonished bummer, and then with Congleton re
turned to his saloon. :

One solution only to the mystery ; the man who had fired |
the shots had instantly decamped, and, favored by the dark _
ness, had managed to escape unobserved. 6 i

Bowers, after the two had departed, immediately curled |
himself up and went to sleep. "i

CHAPTER * XXXII:
TWO WHITE SNAKES AND A RED EAGLE. :
RETURN we now to the scene transpiring on the side of |
Shasta’s snow-crowned peak, part of which we related in al |
early chapter of our story. 7
Standing within the hollow crown, the crater of the extinct |
voleano, Hee-ma-Nang-a (sun-man), chief of the Shasta tribe,

and Yuet-a (moon), his sister, awaited the coming of the white ]_

strangers, who had promised to tell them how the invading — F
pale-faces might be driven from the valley of the Shasta. =
Slowly the strangers toiled up the steep and snowy path.
“They will soon be here,” the maiden said. a
“Let the daughter of the Shastas then retire and crouch
among the rocks. It is not fit that the pale strangers should |
look upon the face of the Shasta queen,” the chief commanded, |
gently.

Yuet-a obeyed at once.

Fifty feet from the edges of the crater was an irregular cole
lection of huge stones, each one of which showed visible
traces of the terrible fires that in the days of old had upraised
the peaks of Northern California from the level plain, an
had imprisoned mighty rivers within a rocky cell.

The girl disappeared behind the rocks. The chief advanced
to the edge of the crater and looked down upon the whites,
who were quite near at hand. f

The keen eyes of the Indinn noted the faces of the stran-

ers.

“ What manner of men are these who would strike like thé
wolves at their own brothers?” muttered the chief, contempt
curling his proud lips. “The Indian would drive the beard: |
ed pale-face from the valley of his fathers, but he would d@_
the act alone, aided only by the knowledge that. his course 18 —
just, and that great Yopitone, from the crowned peak OF —
mighty Shasta, looks down and smiles upon his cause,” a

 
WHITE AND RED.

A wary, lengthened: glance the chief cast, and then he
_ Paced back to his former station, and waited for the whites
| t© approach.
At last the strangers reached the level, open space, the cra-
ter of the extinct volcano, and advanced to meet the chief.

The two white men were the gambler Hardin, and the
Visco sharp, Congleton.

Kentuck knew the chief well by sight, for Hee-ma-Nang-a
ad visited Cinnabar City more than once, curious to see the
omes of the white invaders.

“Glad to see you, chief,” Kentuck said. ‘“ Youreceived my
- Message?” ;

__“Ti-am, Shasta brave, told the chief of the Shasta tribe
that two men would hold a talk with him,” the chief replied,

e spoke English quite fluently.

 “Bxactly; and 1am the man who sent the message. Did
| the warrior tell the chief that perhaps his white brother would
be able to advise him how to get back the valley yonder for
tis people again?” And Kentuck pointed as he spoke to
Where the distant smokes of Cinnaba. city were curling up on
the clear mountain air.

“The brave spoke—a Shasta has not two tongues,” replied

ee-ma-Nang-a, with calm deliberation.

Will the chief listen while his white brother talks sense?”
Kentuck asked.

“The chief’s ears are open.”

“Let him hear then; would he like to get back the valley
Of the Shasta again, and drive out the white men ?”

The bronzed bosom of the Indian swelled beneath its deer-
Skin covering as he listened to the question. His tall, form
Straightened up, and an eagle-like glare came from his dark
tyes. :

‘When the Shasta chief dies would he go to Yopitone’s

som, and sit forever in the light of the sacred fire?—would
the hunted deer seek the lake when the big wolves are snap-
Ping at his heels? Let my white brother listen !”

The chief raised his long arm and pointed down the valley.

“Two sleeps ago the Shasta chief hid like a bear in the

ushes; he looked out upon the graves of his fathers, where
all the Shasta chiefs are laid when the bow is unstrung and
great Yopitone calls his children home. A white man had
Planted his wigwam there. With his strange things that
Scratched up:the earth he dug into the graves of the dead
Warriors of the Shasta tribe—their bones he trampled under
his feet, and the skulls of the mighty warriors he gave to his
Pappooses to play with. Heema-Nang-a, the chief of the
hasta, within whose veins burns the sacred fire that Monte-
zuma drew from the gspirit-land, saw the graves of his dead
Warriors defiled by the liands of the pale-face, and: yet be
Sung net the war chant, bid not his braves paint their faces,

 

 
 

126 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

and whet thei: arrows on the flinty rock; he led them not]
forth to kill the stranger. No, he knew that the red-ma
could not contend with the pale-face with his fire-arrows
The Shasta chief covered his head with ashes and wept t0 |
think how poor was his nation.” 1

Congleton had listened to this speech in utter astonishment |
His ideas of what an Indian was like had been gathered from |
the few miserable specimens he had seen hanging around the
whisky shops in the frontier towns, or from the century-de-
based Southern Californian tribes, the peon slaves of the mis
sion priests. It-was the first time that he had ever encount
ered a mountain savage, free and uncontaminated by thé
withering influence of civilization.

“The chief leads many warriors; if they were armed with |

the fire-guns of the whites, could they not fight them then?”
Kentuck questioned.

“ Mebbe,” the Shasta replied, laconically. 3

“ The whites are not satisfied with the valley; they do nof
find as much yellow metal there as they expected. If the —
Indians should trouble them much they would leave the val
ley rather than fight for it.”

‘More come every day,” the chief said, slowly.

“Ah, but they would not come if they knew that they —
would have to fight the Shastas!” Kentuck exclaimed,
quickly. :

“ Mebbe,” again said the savage, sententionsly.

“Now, chief, I will talk right plain to you,” Kentuck saia,
abruptly. “If you choose, I will find fire-cuns for some of
your men, with powder and ball, and when you are ready I'll —
Jead a dozen or twenty warriors, and show them where they
can strike a heavy blow and get many good things almost —
without resistance. The attack must be made at night. The
whites will follow you of course to avenge the atlack; then
you can select your own ground in the hills and fight ’ent
with all the advantage on your side. A half a dozen attacks,
and the whites will clear out of the valley, and leave their
goods—fire-water—houses—every thing for the red-man to en-

OY.
: é Tt is good!” grunted the chief, folding his arms across his
breast and looking the wily white full in the eye.

Kentuck could hardly conceal his triumph; he cast a side
glance full of meaning at Congleton. In the look he meant —
to say, ‘“‘ This is by far the easiest way to dispose of superin-
tendent Talbot!” 4

Congleton understood him and nodded.

“The chief will take the fire-guns and fight the white man
in the white man’s way ?” Kentuck questioned.

‘My pale-face brother is wise,” said the Indian, slowly,
and in a tone that betrayed deep reflection. ‘“ Heema-Nang-#
is only a red chief, and when he was 2 pappoose did not “ear?

 
THE CHIEF'S ANSWER. 127

What his white brother learned. Yopitone did not give the
Same head alike to his red and white children. Did the wise
Men of his tribe ever tell my brother the story of the fox and
e beaver?”
Both Kentuck and Congleton were considerably astonished

} &t the question, put in such a grave manner by the Indian.

“No; I think not,” Kentuck replied.
“Let my brother listen,’ said the chief; “he will not use
his ears for nothing. One day a beaver who had been driven

Tom his tribe because he had been so foolish, sat by the edge

Of the Shasta and patted the bank with his tail. Then to him

there came a red fox; he looked into the water and saw a fat

fish with red spots upon its sides. ‘Get me the fish, beaver

Chief,’ the fox said, ‘and you_shall have half.’ The beaver

Chief caught the fish; then the fox bit off his head, and ate

Oth beaver chief and the fish.”

There was a dead silence for a few minutes after the savage
had recited the jegend.
The whites understood that the simple red-man had pene-
_ tated their design.
“Well, chief, play the beaver for us; catch our fish and

We'll agree that you shall have a fair share of the game,”
_ Kentuck said, with an appearance of great frankness,

The Shasta warrior shook his head.

“Tt is only the death of two men,” Congleton added.
“Yes,and you can strike them unawares,” Kentuck ex-
Claimed.

“My brother would like to see two chiefs dead?”

“Yes, yes!” cried both of the whites in a breath.

“Go fight them then like the eagle not like the snake!” said
the warrior, proudly. ‘t Hee-ma-Nang-a is a chief not a
Squaw. If he could bite like a snake, the white braves would
_ lose two warriors now!”

The whites half started, cast anxious glances around, and
Placed their hands upon the weapons in their belts.

The Indian surveyed them with a scornful smile. .

“The white braves are safe,” he said. ‘‘ ‘Ti am pledged his
Word that they should come and go free. The chief of the

— will not break the word given by the meanest of his

1 ye.”

Both the whites realized that further discussion was useless;
80 they turned about and descended the hill again.

Legal trickery must decide the fortunes of the Cinnabar
‘Wine after all.

 

 
 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE.
ELEctTion day was near at hand.

For a week at least previous to that all-important eveat,

Cinnabar City had been greatly excited. Before that time

very little interest had been manifested»by the miners at large

as to the result of the first election ever held in the young met

ropolis of the North. But all of a sudden, the advocates of |
Jimmy Hughes, the genial landlord of the Dry-Up suloon, com> |

menced to electioneer for their candidate. re

Huge posters—imported from Yreka at a great expense—
appeared in conspicuous places, urging the citizens to vote for |
James Hughes, Esquire, “ the People’s Candidate for Mayor.” |

A mass-meeting had been gotten up, and the several speakers

who had addressed the crowd, had ventilated Hughes’ claim |

to be elected.

Congleton had spoken at the meeting. By this time the |
“ special agent” of the Cinnabar Company had become pret _

ty well known about town, and as the mine was working

right straight on, the hands having been paid up according to F

agreement, and set to work—with the single exception of Yan-
kee Jim, who had been given his walking papers—and was re-
ported to be doing well, naturally the Cinnabar folks looked”
with a great deal of respect upon the San Francisco sharp.
Congleton had “indorsed” Hughes without reserve, said
that, as the representative of the heaviest mining concern it
the place, he, Congleton, of course, felt a great interest in the
result of the election. Mr. Hughes was a man of solid weight
and independence. Heran his own machine, and as he de-
pended upon the prosperity of the town for support, and —

thrived as the town thrived, he naturally would have an inter | _

est in pushing things ahead. Against the opposition candi-
date he wouldn’t say a word; Mr. MacArdle was a gentleman
whom he respected, but with all due deference he thought
that as the interests of Cinnabar City were made up of numer
ous mining concerns notof one, he really thought that #
would be better for the citizens at large, who were intereste
in mining, to support a candidate for Mayor who was totally

independent of any mining company; and in case of a diffel-

ence arising between two concerns, could decide upon th@
merits of the case without the suspicion of being unduly in-_
fluenced in the matter. ;

This was a strong point, and the muttered remarks of the
crowd showed that it had produced an impression upol
them. : :

Many small mining enterprises were being carried on iD
t

 

exwororaw

rae oa

Se a Bg Ge Ga ae OS ae) De en ny, Cee ene dae ie
Le » a a a ae ee. 8

A TEN STRIKE. 129

8nd about Cinnabar, and the men concerned in them had a

eadly fear that the big-bugs, as they commonly termed the

-teeularly incorporated companics, might attempt in some un

derhand manner to secure an advantage over them. Exuacily
Ow this could be carried out would have puzzled the wisest

0f the workers to have explained, but the fear was there
_hevertbeless. It was the old story over again. Labor dis-
trusted capital.

After Congleton, Kentuck rose to address the crowd.

The Last Chance was running again at full speed, only that
ts were limited at the faro-table to an even hundred dol-
rs,

‘* Fellow-citizens,” began Kentuck, in the bluff, frank man.

_‘Ner generally assumed by men of doubtful reputations when

ey want to curry favor with a mixed audience, “Tm not
Nuch of a hand at speechifying, but I reckon that I can ex-
ress my feelings on this yere matter as well as the next man.
take an interest in this yere election, because I reckon that
My bread and butter depends upon it. I reckon ’bout ail of
You know who I am and what sort of a place I keep. In my
SLebang a gentleman kin amuse himself when he’s tired out

| &fter a hard day’s work. Thar has been talk right yere in

this city of Cinnabar, that sich places as mine ought to be

‘Shut up. And why, fellow-citizens? that’s the question I put

to you ; why do some men in this yere town say that all te

} Saloons ought to be shut up, and who are those men? Fel-

Ow-citizens, I won’t mention any names. I strike no man
behind his back, but 1 kin jest tell you, you Cinnabar folks,
every man in this yere town who says the saloons ought to

shut up, will walk up to the polls and vote for Billy Mac-

| Ardie for Mayor. I don’t say, mind you, that Mr. MacArdle

thinks so, but his supporters do, and I reckon the man that is
flected will have to pay some attention to the men who elect-
td him. Now,I tell you, fellow-citizens, why these good
folks want the saloons closed up; ’cause the poor man goes

_ to’em, the man that works with his two hands, and has made

this yere city of Cinnabar jist what it is!”
Then the crowd yelled. Kentuck had made a ‘ten

-«“&trike.”

“These sports who want to shut up the ‘ Last Chance,’ the
Cosmopolitan,’ the ‘Silver Palace,’ ‘Macginnis’ Home,’ and
li the other shebangs in this yere lively town, can lay in
their fire-water in jugs and barrels, but the poor man that
Can’t afford it, he must go without!”
Then there was another yell from the crowd. The arts of
e demagogue are ever the same and the effect wonderful.
“ Fellow-citizens, we all know whar Jimmy Hughes stands

9n this yere question. His platform is our platform; but
_Whar—oh, whar does Billy MacArdle stand ?”

Kentuck retired amid a storm of applause.

 

 
130 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

After two or three more had addressed the crowd tle mee}

f

ing broke up.

The platform of the Hughes party was now clearly define# | },

“Free rum and no monopoly!” =

Talbot and Brown held council together when they heal),
what prominent parts the gambler and speculator were taki | .
in the election contest. Z

But the superintendent and the foreman feared that th
effects of their two enemies in behalf of the “ People’s Cand
date,” Jimmy Hughes, meant evil to them; so, after due de
liberation, they decided to work for MacArdle with all the!
might. -

Again the express brought down posters from Yreka; aD@ |
a call for a meeting to further the claims ef “our eminel?
fellow-citizen, William MacArdle, Esq.,” stared every one
the face.

The night of the meeting came. Talbot, Brown, and a fe
other prominent men addressed the crowd, which was almos |
twice as large as at the Hughes meeting. 7

Talbot felt encouraged at first, but after a few minutes
became convinced that the Hughes party were largely in ¢
ascendant. He saw that there was mischief ahead.

In the intervals between the speakers, there were loud calls
from the crowd for MacArdle; Talbot foresaw that. the cal
was made for no good purpose, and tried to keep MacArdlé
from responding to the demand, but the old Scotchman wa’
possessed of all the proverbial obstinacy of his race, and im”
sisted upon speaking. ;

He made an excellent speech, too; said that, if he was
elected, he should do all in his power to promote the advance ~
ment of the town ; declared that he was in favor of “licensed” |
saloons, but would shut np the dens where honest men wel@ |.
drugged and robbed. And in regard to his being connected
with a mining enterprise he appealed to the crowd as 1 |
which one could best settle a mining dispute, the man wh® |
had followed mining all his life for a living, or a ‘‘ braw
judge of strong liquors. P

The crowd rather enjoyed the ‘‘dig” at Hughes, and thé |
MacArdle party began to congratulate themselves that they
were gaining ground when a voice from the thick of thé
throng cried out:

“ Are you in favor of Chinese labor?” 3

Talbot and Browm exchanged glances; they recognized
Kentuck’s voice. ,

MacArdle was ‘‘ floored” by the directly put question. 54
president of the Dundee Company he had six Chinamen 1
ais employ. we

‘<] believe in each man settling that question for himself, a
he replied, after hesitating for a moment. . a

“Thar’s fifteen heathen in the Dundee mine now!” cried 9 |

ri

.

 
A CLINCHER.

Ourse voice in the crowd, and then a storm of hisses went up
Nn the air. :
],,° MacArdle’s in favor of Chinamen; they’re cheap!” yelled
A€ntuck.
| Talbot and Brown knew the voice, else they would not
lave been able to discover the speaker, who was wedged in
© center of the throng.
'|,, “That’s a lie, mon!” cried MacArdle, in a rage, shaking his
4st in the direction from which the voice had proceeded.
“Mr, MacArdle is not in favor of Chinese Jabor!” yelled
town, at the top of his voice.
And just then there was a commotion in the crowd, and a
‘Yery fair prospect of a general fight, for the MacArdle men
Were plucky and not disposed to Jet Hughes’ friends break
| *P the meeting.
All of a sudden the veteran bummer, Joe Bowers, was
w hoisted up in the air on the shoulders of Long Tom Merigan
‘e. Ml another compatriot.
,. Lemme say a word to Billy, old pards!” yelled the bum-
Mer,
the crowd hushed their noise and looked on in astonish
‘Ment.
_ “Now, gentI'men, all I want to ask of the ean’idate is 11.
let him answer it if he kin!” Bowers shouted. “ Whi

 

ied Billy MacArdle’s grandmother?”
The crowd roared; Bowers disappeared, and MacArdle,
‘Wearing in the broadest of Seotch, hurried home, followed
Yy his friends.
The betting that night was ten to one that Hughes would
elected Mayor of Cinnabar City.

CHAPTER XXXIV.
ELECTION NIGHT.

Suxpown had come and the long agony was over, The
first Mayor that the city of Cinnabar had ever possessed had
n duly elected.
, There was very little doubt as to the resuli of the ch-ction,
for even to the most casual observer, it was plainly apparent
ait the Hughes party was largely in the ascendant,
Whisky ran as freely as water that day at nearly every sa-
490n in town. Every shebang-keeper in Cinnabar felt that
Rughes’ eause was his own, and that. the election of Billy
acArdle meant utter ruin to him, the aforesaid ‘“ saloonist.”
lerefore the potent influence of the alluring fire-water was
‘teely used to induce voters to go for the landlord of the

ry Up.”

 
\

1382 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

It did not take the election canvassers very long to col
the ballots, aud within an bour after the polls had closed,
result was officially announced, ‘

Hughes was elected by a majority of a hundred and ni
votes.

A good fair contest it was too.

Congleton and Kentuck, the principal managers of tht
Hughes ‘‘ machine,” saw that the triumph of their candidal
was almost certain, and wisely concluded not to endanger tt
result by allowing their opponents any chance to contest thé]
fairness of the election,

Possibly, never since Cinnabar City had a local habitatio®
and a name, was there such a scene of wild hilarity as thel®
was on the night of the election. It is safe to say that tw
thirds of the inhabitiants went to bed that night a great de
the worse for liquor. And the drunkest man of them all wé
the orig’nal Joe Bowers. ;

The ridiculous accusation implied in the question that }
had addressed to MacArdle on the night of the mass meetilg
had tickled the fancy of the miners, ever keen to enjoy
joke. :

: And, “ Who killed Billy MacArdle’s grandmother?” becam®
a by-word around town. A
There is nothing that can hurt the popularity of a publi!
man so much as ridicule; and it is safe to say that the absu
question put by Joe Bowers—and at which MacArdle lost hil
temper, cost him at the least forty or fifty votes. ;

A due regard for the truth compels us to state that, on thé
night after his election, Hughes attempted to celebrate bS
triumph by drinking with every man that came into his hote
to congratulate him upon the important event, and the resu
was that, about nine o'clock, the Mayor of Cinnabar City wi
in such a state of joy it took three men to carry him up-stail®
and put him to bed. 7

Probably about the only two really prominent men of thé
winning party who were strictly sober that night were th@
two who had worked hardest for Hughes’ election and wh@
expected to profit the most by that event—Congleton ané
Kentuck. i

There was no “game” running election night at Kentuck®
place, he having given due notice that such would be thé
case.

Kentuck was a shrewd observer.
would be freely dispensed and that drunken men were apt
be quarrelsome and disposed to kick up a fuss on very slight
provocation. So he determined to shut up shop. 3

The saloon part, though, of the Last Chance, ran as usua4
and was crowded with customers. :

Within King Faro dominions all was gloom and _ silenc®

. The door of the gambler’s private room was slightly ajar, ane@—

 
THE NEXT MOVE. 188

‘ray of light coming from it and the sound of voices told that

* was occupied.

- Congleton and Kentuck sat in council together.

So far, they had succeeded. They had elected their man
Mayor of the city, and now they were deliberating upon

Mie next move in the game.

, The boys are celebrating,” Kentuck remarked, as he lis-
Ned to the drunken yells coming from the street,

“Yes, and we'll be able to celebrate a month or two hence,
4¥eckon,” said Congleton, witb an air of great satisfaction.

~ “When will you make a move ?”

“In about a week,” Congleton replied, after a moment’s
Ought. “We must allow time for Hughes to get fairly
‘uted in his office and put the machine in working order.”

Bb, Well, what is the programme, anyway ?” :

ti Tn the first place, notify Talbot that, after due examina-

‘on of circumstances appertaining to the Cinnabar mine, I

1 convinced that the affairs of the company will never be
Prosperous as they should be, until there is a change in the

Ainagement of the works.”

'» You mean to suggest delicately but pointedly that he and

Brown had better get out.”

, Yes, that’s about the size of it,” Congleton replied, re-

*ctively.

_ “Do you intend to write this or to see him?”

Oh, see him, of course. You understand, Mardin, ?m

‘€0ing to wait upon Superintendent Talbot and suggest this to

as a friend desirous of acting both for his interest and for
the interest of the Cinnabar company.”

. “TI don’t think he will be able to see it in that light,” Ken-

lick remarked, dryly. ;

Possibly not,” Congleton said, with agrin. “But I must

‘Manage this matter so that public opinion will believe that I

{ right and Talbot is wrong, when we come to the fighting

Mirt of the matter.” g
“You feel that it’s dead sure it will come to a fight?” Ken-
ek asked, abruptly.

+ No mistake about it?’ Congleton exclaimed, decidedly.

hy, Hardin, those two men will stick to the mine so tight
at a derrick couldn't list them ont. You see, my game is
€ soft and easy one; the threats and the violence must come

‘Tom the other side. AsI said, I shall wait on Talbot in

ut a week and ventilate my views in regard to the mine.

The chances are that he will get mad as thunder and order

Xe off the property. If he does, then, as special agent of the
Mpany, lam justified in using force to obtain admussivn,
that I can look after the machine.”

“S’pose he’s wise enough to only refuse to resign, and
mes No steps agaiast you?”

“Then V\ writs him a letter in the name of the company,

 
EKENTUCK, THE SPORT.

telling him that his services are no longer required by
Cionabar Company and that he must instantly turn over allt
property in his possession belonging to the company to W
At the same time, PH stick up notices round town that
business appertaining to the mine will be well transacted
mysclf, and that Messrs. Richard Talbot and William Brow#y]”
are no longer employees of the company. Jf he defies WHT
nolice and sticks to the mine, I shall raise a force and sc
if, appealing to Hughes in his capacity of Mayor of the tow™
to interfere to prevent any tesistance on the part of the di”
Charged superintendent and foreman,” =
““But you’ve got to have a mighty good reason to back UP:
all this,” Kentuck observed, shrewdly. ‘‘ Not a legal reasov}
I mean one that will satisfy the people of the city at large |
“I shall allege mismanagement of the affairs of the mid
and resistance to my authority, I being special agent of thé
company and invested with supreme power.” rg
“T can fix a better reason than that!” cried Kentuck, sud |
denly. a
“* Spit it out,” remarked Congleton. :
“*'What do you s’pose had more to do with the election of
Jimmy Hughes than any thing else?” queried the gambler.
“The liquor men backing him,” answered Congletody |
promptly. j
“Well, that helped; but I tell you, rocks, the main p’int
was the Chinaman question. White men don’t like the yel |
ler heathen that work for nothing and get fat on half of thab-
No, sir-ee! I tell you, sport, the suspicion that Billy Ma& |
Ardle believes in hiring the Johns had more to do with Ii§
defeat than any thing else. Why, I heerd a dozen say toda }
right out on the street—‘Old Billy’s a good litle man, but + |
don’t vote for any man that hires Chinamen an’ takes the-
bread out of decent white men’s mouths.’ That’s jest what
they said, and that’s jest what flaxed MacArdle.” a
“What has that got to do with h’isting our men out of thé
Cinnabar?” Congleton questioned. |
“Thar’s two heathen working in the mine now. Some of
the men went for ’em the other day and Talbot interfered’
pretty near killed one man, too, I heered, in the fuss. Now
the game is to get up a strike among the boys working for thé
Cinnabar Company, ag’in’ the two Johns. Let’em throw”
down their tools and sw’ar that they won’t do another lick of
work unless the heatiien are kicked out.”
“ Talbot may yield to the demand,” suggested Congleton.

“Now that ain’t likely, or not fur a while, anyway. He'll |]

be obstinate long enough for us to fix him. Jest as soon 95 —
the strike gets under good headway, you kin interfere—say —
that the company never authorized the superintendent

work any Johus on the mine—that you believe in free whilé
labor and won’t see the clean white article trodden down bY

 
THE LULL BEFORE THE STORM. 136

“Any yaller heathen, and that you will instantly remove tha
hperintendent and foreman, kick out the Cbinamen and put
ack the boys on increased wages. Jest work it that way and

; Ta like to see the an, white, red or yuller, that kin stop it.

| The boys have got their blood up about this Chinaman busi-

| Ness and they’re jest a-going to clean out the heathen on the
st fair chance,”
It did not take long for the speculator to perceive how true

Were Kentuck’s words.

CHAPTER XXXYV.
A ROUND ROBIN.

 Jusr seven days since Cinnabar City had celebrated the
lection of its first Mayor.
And in those seven days very little had happened, to out-
Ward seeming, to affect the characters of our story.
The yield from the Cinnabar mine was increasing day by
day; Talbot and Brown were in excellent spirits, except that

- the former was worried about the continued sickness of his

Wife. She was apparently no better, and yet could not be

| 82id‘to be worse.

Congleton had been unusually civil toward the superintend-
€nt and the foreman, and they, on their part, while respond-

g very cautiously to his advances, had about come to the
Conclusion that they should have no more trouble with him.
One thing only, annoyed Brown, and that was, that the dis-
: glans hand, Yankee Jim, was constantly lurking around

e mine. .

Four or five days at least, during the noon hour, Brown had
detected Jim in earnest conversation with the hands, He
 Couldn’t imagine what the fellow was up to, but he felt pretty
Sure that Jim came to the mine for no good purpose. Brown
tad not mentioned the matter to Talbot, preferring not to
trouble him until there was some good proof that Jim was

Planning mischief.

Brown, however, did not discover any thing to speak of,
until, after the noon hour on the seventh day from the election,
the men, instead of going to work, formed ina body and.
~ Marched to the superintendent's office.

Talbot and Brown were enjoying a pipe just outside the
Shanty, which was dignified by the title of office. They had
selected two masses of rocks that had come from the mouth
‘f the tunnel for seats, and were haying a cosy chat together
concerning what they would do when they had made a for-
ane out of the mine and had retired from active business to
tajoy it.

The sight of the workmen marching up ina body rather
&stonished them. .

 
236 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

‘*Somethin’s broke!’ Brown exclaimed, taking the pipe ou
of his mouth.

“* Looks like it,” Talbot replied, shortly.

The workmen arrived within ten feet, halted, and one of
them—a_thick-set son of Indiana, known as Jake Shaw—
stepped forward from the rest and presented a paper to Tal
bot.

Both the superintendent and the foreman had risen to re-
ceive the men, as it was very evident from the manner of.
their approach that they came upon some unusual errand. _

The paper was one of the kind usually termed a ‘‘ round
robin,” from the fact that the names of the signers were writ-
ten in a circle, so that no one name headed the list of signa:
tures, but all were on an equality. No one, by looking at thi
paper, could have told which name was signed first.

The paper read as follows:

‘* We, the undersigned, workmen in the employ of the Cinnabar Quart.
Mining Company, re-pectiully protest against the employment of Chi
nese laborers upon the works of the aforesaid mine, as being contrary !¢
the dignity and spirit of free republican institutions which were institute
for the benefit of tree white men and not for uncivilized heathens, the
scourings of a foreign country.

“And we hereby declare that the employment of Chinamen is some
thing that we, as tree and independent citizens of a great and glorious r@
ublic, can not look upon without seeing that by -uch employment ti

fee white working-man js degraded and his manhocd soiled.

* And we have resolved that we can not longer permit the ignorant and
heathen Chinese to take the bread out of the mouths of our wives aD
children, and we hereby declare that we, as free white men, protest
against the starvation laborors employed by the Cinnabar Quartz Mini:
Company, and that until the said heathen are cleaned out, we can n0
work tor the aforesaid company.”

Then followed the names of all the workmen attached to
the Cinnabar mine, written in a circle, as we have describe

Talbot read this document aloud for the edification
Brown.

“ Well, fellow-citizens,” Talbot said in his quiet way, afte
he had finished reading the “ round robin,” “it seems to m
that you have taken a great many words to express one idea
You might have said right out that you don’t like the John
and wouldn’t work with them. Well, boys,” and Talbot’
voice was as gentle and as soothing as a mother caressing bet
little one, “I don’t think much of the Johns myself.
me see, tlie two I’ve got here are both cooks, washerwomeD
and in fact, handy at any thing of that sort. They get t
dollars a day and found. Which two of you crowd will tak
their places at five dollars a day ?” :

Not a soul stirred, but the workmen looked at each other
little puzzled by this offer.

“Come, don’t all speak at once,” Tallot said; “* who wan
the Jonns’ places ?”

“Wal, Lreckon that thar ain’t any one of use * ld 9

 
PLAIN TALK. 137

‘full’ band id that line,” Jake Shaw replied, after quite a
tong pause.
“Oh, I perceive, you intend, fellow-citizens, to turn out
the heathen, but you don’t want their places. That is, in
Teality, you in solemn caucus decide that Brown and myself
} Shall in future cook our own victuals or go without,” Talbot
_ Said, and just about that time, the long-headed ones of the
Crowd began to understand that the superintendent, so far,
Aad the best of it.
““Wal—we hain’t got any thing to do with that,” Jake re-
Plied, acting as spokesman for the rest. ‘‘ We object to the
} Chinamen an’ we want ’em cleaned out.”
} _ “That is, you mean that you intend to dictate to the Cin-
- Rabar Company how they shall carry on their business.”
Jake looked puzzled for a moment but evaded the question
y replying:
“We don’t want to dictate to nobody or noffin’, but we ain’t
- on to work for this hyer mine #f the Jolins ain’t made to
y quit!”
“That's so, that’s so!” muttered three or four of the crowd.
| . Talbot saw that he was only wasting his breath in talking
_ 60 the men, and so he cut the interview short. 3
“Men, you have a perfect right to decide whether you wish
_ to work for this company or not; I don’t dispute the justice
Of that, at all; but the Cinnabar Company also has the right
carry on their business in their own way, and it is not pro-
| able that they will yield any more than you will. To settle
_ the matter here and now, I refuse to acknowledge your right
)demand the discharge of any man inthe employ of the
innabar Company, and I would see the mine sunk a hund-
Ted feet under ground before I would yield to any strike
—f this sort. I talked pretty plain to you the other day,
} ‘0d it is hardly necessary to repeat what Isaid then. I don’t
_cknowledge the right of any one man, or twenty men, to
ully me in regard to howI shall run the machine in my
Charge. You men really have no more to do with those two
-Chinamen, than you have with the red-skins out in the woods,
it looks to me as if there wassomething at the bottom of this,
‘Sut, be that as it may, it don’t make much difference; if you
“0n’t want to work, come up and say so; your money’s ready
_ *0r you, and you can get out.”
__ “ Look-a-here, you’re talking pretty bold, Mister Talbot!”
-€Xclaimed Jake, sulkily; “we reckon that we’ve got some
“ght in this hyer matter!”
Talbot took one step forward, while the strikers got a little
_ Closer to their leader. There was fight in the superintendent's
‘Manner. ; ;
With a powerful effort, though, Talbotrestrained his angry
sions.
A moment the two men looked at each other, Shaw’s hand

 
138 YENTUCK, THE SPORT

thrust behind him and grasping the revolver that he wor | —
belted to his hip, while the superintendent’s right hand wa8]

held in the pocket of the loose sack-coat that he wore.

If Shaw had made the slightest motion to draw the revo
ver, Dick’s quick fingers would have put a bullet through hid
from the Derringer that ready-cocked was in his pocket, lop
before the leader of the strikers could have had time to rais
the hammer of his weapon.

> As we have said, just a moment the two looked upon cach
other, eye to eye, and then, Shaw perceiving that Talbot h
got the “drop on him,” to use the mining phrase, and that
single hostile motion on his part would be almost certain t
send him to that long home where all men are equal, be they
white or yellow, concluded that it was not any of his funer@
just then.

Shaw removed his hand from his revolver, slowly. é

“See hyer, pardner, I don’t mean no offense, you know
Tain’t a-goin’ round jist now knockin’ any chips offen 00]
man’s shoulder. I’m jist a-talkin’ for my mates hyer. a

“That's all well and good,” Talbot said, quietly. “I see’
no quarrel with any man, but if anybody wants to ‘see’ me
they won’t have to hunt for me long.”

“Wal, are you a-goin’ to keep the Chinamen?” asked
voice from the throng: ‘A
“I reckon that’s the hand I'll play, boys,” Talbot replied.

“ Thar’s nary a white man in this hyer town will work fo
you then!’ Shaw exclaimed, doggedly. “ We ain’t the onl
gang that wants to clean out the heathen cusses. Mister Ta
bot, I warns you, as a friend, that you'll have trouble ef yo

let_us go and keep the Johns!”° * ~ a

” ~

For the first time, Talbot began to have an idea of the e® | |

tent of the conspiracy against the Cinnabar Company.
words of the striker implied that force would be used to kee
men from working.

CHAPTER XXXVI.
COMING TO A FOCUS.

THE appearance of anew actor upon the scene gave
wondrous turn to the state of affairs. ¢
The new-comer was the special agent of the Cinnabar Com

pany, Hosa Congleton.
“Why, gentlemen, what is the matter?” he exclaimed, ®
he came to the scene of discussion. j
‘* We folks have struck ag’in’ the Chinamen,” said Shaw.
_‘* Why, why?” cried Congleton, apparently in great asto?
ishment. “ What is the matter?” 4
‘“We won’t work with the Johns,” said another one of
crowd, A

zz

 
THE SPECIAL AGENT'S ADVICE. 1389

Congleton, with a look of wonder upon his face, turned to
Talbot as if to ask an explanation.
| .“ These gentlemen have refused to work for the Cinnabar
|} YOmpany unless I turn out the two Chinamen,” Dick said.
_ ““What answer have you made?” asked the special agent,
‘“aressing his bearded chin, apparently in deep reflection.
“Told them that I ran the machine just now, and while J]
{0 run it, it will be run my own way.”
Congleton appeared for a few moments to be lost in
thought; then, as if he had suddenly hit upon a plan to re
|} Move the difficulty, he addressed the strikers.
} “Gentlemen, if you will retire for five minutes or so, I
|| think I shall be able to arrange this matter satisfactorily, both
} © you and to Mr. Talbot hyer.”
_, Now you're talkin’!” exclaimed Shaw, emphatically;
We'll git!” -
, The procession fell back three or four hundred yards, and
took up a position by the bank of the river, ;
Quite a little crowd had begun to assemble, attracted by
the news that there was trouble at the Cinnabar works. In
the smallest village there are always plenty of people to form
—{ audience when a disturbance takes place.
Talbot could hardly restrain himself from expressing in his
| ice the contempt he felt for the special agent when the suiil-
hg Congleton approached him.
“Don’t you think, Mr. Talbot, that it will be better for the
} Affairs of the company if you yield to the demand of the men
hd discharge the Chinamen?”
- “Td sce them in Tophet first!” replied Talbot.
| “Of course that is very natural, taken individually,” Con-
‘| Sleton remarked ; “but, in this case the welfare of the com-
} Pany, whose salary you receive, requires that you should
‘Stifle all personal feeling and work things for the best for the
mMpany.”
“You mean tlie salary that the company promised to pay
Ne!’ Talbot retorted, contemptuously. “But, in regard to
},/Our question, if we yield to this demand, what assurance
| dive we that they will not attempt to regulate other matters?
Say, perhaps, how many tons of ore we shall crush ina week.”
| “Oh, no! there’s no danger of that !” Congleton exclaimed,
“onfidently.
| ..“ Then, as special agent of the Cinnabar Comy any, you ad-
| Vise me to yield to this demand?” Talbot said, stowly.
. That is my advice,” Congleton replied, with an assump-
0n of great dignity.
rown watched Talbot’s face with visible anxicty; he ex-
rected an outburst of passion and feared the consequences,
“lke Dick, the foreman felt sire that the wily Frisco sharp
Was at the bottom of all the disturbance.
“Well, I will follow your advice, Mr. Congleton,” Talbot

«

 
   
 
  
 
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
    
   
 
 
  
 
 
   
   
 
   

 

 

 

 

140 KENTFUCK, THE SPORT.

said, and after quite a long panse; “the two Chinamen shall
leave ; I accede to the demand of these men.” ;

“That will settle the hull difficulty !” Congleton exclaimed
briskly, but even as he spoke, there was a peculiar smile Jur
ing about the corners of his mouth, that Dick, shrewd oP
server as he was, saw augured no good to him.

Congleton walked off at a quick pace toward the men.

“ Aha!” cried Brown, in glee, ‘‘ you’ve got the better of
that pole-cat this time. He would have bet his bottom dolla!
that you wouldn’t give in to the men.”

«Don’t let us cry until we are out of the wood,” Dick said;
dryly. “ There’s trouble abead, Bill; Ican read it in tha
man’s face!”

“Thunder!” cried Brown, in astonishment; ‘‘ what do you
suppose he’ll be up to next?”

‘© We'll know that inside of thirty minutes or I’m no pre
phet!” Dick replied.

By this time, Congleton had reached the strikers, and w®
busily engaged in conversation with them.

For five minutes at least the superintendent and the for®
man watched the progress of the inferview. between tb?
special agent and the men; it was evident from the manner?
th parties concerned that the affair was not advancils
toward a favorable conclusion. Then Shaw drew the revol
ver from his belt and flourished it in the air; four or fiv®
more of the men also drew weapons, and things looked dé
cidedly hostile. P

“Thunder! they ain’t going for the Fr’isco chap, are they?
Brown exclaimed.

“Not a bit of it!” Talbot. answered ; ‘‘this little pantom
ime is intended for our benefit. Didn’t I tell you that thet
was trouble ahead?”

Congleton left the men and returned to where Talbot and
Brown was standing. The face of the special agent was vell)
grave, and he looked as if he was troubled by some matter of
deep moment.

‘*Mr, Talbot,” Congleton said, as hecame up to him, “I al
very sorry to be obliged to state that the trouble is not se¥
tled yet.”

“ So I imagined,” Dick replied, his cool tone and pierci#?®
look being decidedly uncomfortable to the gentleman fro!
F1’isco.

“The hands are not satistied.”

‘‘T did not believe they would be,” Talbot said, calmlf
“ What is it that the gentlemen want now? Do they desif®
that the fee-simple of the Cinnabar lode shall be vested #
them?”

“ Not so bad as that, exactly,” Congleton replied, speakin8
very slowly.

“Well, spit it out; what do they want?”

 
ANOTHER DEMAND. 141

r. Talbot, I trust that you will consider my feelings in
matter,” Congleton began ; “ what I have to say will pro-
ably be very unpleasant to you, and if I had imagined how
S affair was going to turn, I should have tried to have kept
1 of it altogether.”
~ Oh, come to the point at once!” exclaimed Talbot, no lon-
fr able to conceal the feeling of contempt which was swell-
‘g in his bosom. “There is no love lost between us, Mr.
“Meleton. I’m no man’s fool and [ reckon I know who is at
l@ bottom of all the trouble that has come to the Cinnabar
Mhe since you’ve been in this city.”
_Congleton’s coarse face flushed up ; the truth was not pleas-
v}} thus abruptly told. f
Mr. Talbot, you are laboring under some great mistake,
? he exclaimed, drawing himself up as he spoke, with an
: has offended dignity.

1, What do they want?” asked Talbot, entirely ignoring
epeton’s words, and keeping straight to the business in
dl,
_ ‘Well sir, they declare that they find it impossible to work
Y longer under your superintendentship, and request that
M will resign the position.”

“The old Injun with a new face!” Talbot exclaimed, con-
nptuously. “* That’s what they wanted when they struck

‘% their back pay. These men appeared to have the idea
lat every ill that Cinnabar Company is heir to, can be ended

my getting out. Well, Mr. Congleton, in your capacity of

SPecial agent, I suppose you assured the. men that I would
leld as promptly to their second demand as I did to their

thst, ee maybe you have appointed a new superintendent
tread y.”” 5

“Oh, no,” Congleton said, taking no notice of the sarcasm,

ough he had winced at the shot. ‘‘I merely told them
that I thought you would be willing to resign rather than

“We the works stop; you and Mr. Brown both.”

‘They want him to ‘ dust’ too?”
= Yes.” ,
“The works stop, eh?” Talbot said, reflectively, “and who

id that the works are going to stop?”

F « Why, if the men refuse to work—” p

,, Are they the only men in Cinnabar City that can grip &

Dick or a shovel?” cried Dick, fiercely; “and if they were, I

kon that there is a heap more men betwixt this town and

“But they have resolved that they will not allow any men

> take their places,” Congleton urged. 3
“To resolve is one thing, to carry out the resolution is an-
er!” Talbot exclaimed, grimly. “If they are better men
‘han the men I put in their places, maybe they’ll be able to
Shut up the Cinnabar mine, but I reckon there will be a few

 
 

ee KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

funerals round this town first; and not quite so
strikers!”

‘¢ But the property of the mine would be likely to be
troyed if the1e should be a row!” Congleton cried, affec
great concern.

‘* Not much danger of that,” Talbot replied, dryly. }

“But, really, I must protest against steps being taken %
put the property of the mine in jeopardy!” Congleton persist
“In my judgment I think that you should resign and I will#
that the company makes itali right with you.” 4

‘*Resign!” cried Dick, in a riage, fiarmg up, “I'd see yé
the Cinnabar Company and those men yonder, your tools,
the hottest flames below first! I'l] tell you what, Mist
Special Agent, it will take an earthquake to shake me out
the Cinnabar mine!”

‘“‘Well, sir, if you refuse to listen. to reason, I shall
obliged to use the autlioriiy delegated tome by the Presi
and Directors of the Cinnabar Company. I shall remove y®
from your office !” Congleton exclaimed, retreating. ° f

“Remove your granny!” Talbot exclaimed, in contemph}

“Go ahead with your dirty work! You haven’t got the miy
Vou ‘
And in five minutes more, Talbot and Brown, aided by |
faithful O’Rourke, were inside the stockade of the mip

preparing to resist an attack.

CHAPTER XXXVII.
Oo’ ROURKE TO THE FORE.
CoNGLETON hal retreated to the strikers and reported

them the conversation that he had had with the srperinte™ | si}

dent.
‘* But, boys,” he added, in conclusion, ‘‘ I’m going to
this matter up all right. ‘‘ I’m going to serve a notice on t

Sully of a superintendent, that his services are no long@ )

required by the Cinnabar Company. He said right out just
now that he didn’t mean to let the heathen go; he was only ®
playing with you, and that he intended to run the machine #
his own way, or bu’st it!” ; j
A growl of rage went up from the workmen as Congleto?®
concluded his speech. 3
“Tl fix it in the shake of a lamb’s tail, boys!” the spect

agent exclaimed: ‘‘1’ll have him out of that mine before he’s

an hour older.”

Then Congleton hurried: off to write his notice, while th!
workmen remained by the bank of the river, discussing thel
grievances and casting threatening glances toward the st
ade that hemmed in the Cinnabar mine.

The news of the difficulty had spread pretty rapidly aroun

 

P

Bt

om
THE TURN OF THE TIDE. 148

Wn, and quite a group of curious lookers-on had collected,
M eager to see the fun.
Dame Rumor, too, with her hundred tongues—as potent in
‘Mining camp of Cinnabar as in the great cities of civili-
oy heart—had wonderfully magnified the cause of the
*Ouble.
‘It was commonly reported and readily believed, that the
Iperintendent of the Cinnabar Company had announced his
}Mention of discharging all the white men employed on the
orks, and filling their place with the yellow sons of heathen
“Alna.
As but natural, after’such a report bad been ‘duly circulated
1 currently beheved, the superititendent of the Cinnabar
ine had few friends bold enough to attempt to stem the
he of popular opinion running so strongly against Dick
ot.
As ‘one of the strikers bluffly declared:
_“For two cents we'd jist pull that old shanty down over
Ais ears! and the speaker shook his fist-in menace toward the
“losed gate of the Cinnabar stockade.
Strange to relate, so strong had public opinion turned
inst Talbot, since ithad been given out that he favored
@ cheap libor of the Chinese, that the summary course of
ion proposed by the indignant striker met with the general
%)probation of the crowd, who had really no interest what-
Ver in the affairs of the Cinnabar Company, and one gener-
Us individual in the throng in a burst of enthusiasm offered
ee ance the two cents necessary for a bringing on of the
“Un.
This public-spirited person, who was more conspicuous for
his general seediness than for any thing: else, was the irrepres-
Sible Joe Bowers.
‘But the miore moderate ‘workmen counseled that they
ould wait and see the result of Congleton’s action before
ing any step tending to violence.
| To return to Talbot and Brown: after they had entered the
Stockade, they had shut the heavy gate and took measures to
‘Prepare for 2 siege.
The stockade was about six feet high and there were crev-
es between the logs that formed the fence, every foot or so,
‘Natural loop-holes for musketry.
_ The fence inclosed a space of abort a hundred feet square,
‘Duilt in the form of « half-circle, each end resting upon the
Solid wall of rock that rose almost perpendicular from the
| “arth to the heavens, and which formed the south-western
Side of the valley.
The canul which gave the power to run the machinery of
Me mine, entered under the stockade at the southern end
tnd passed out at the north, flowing then straight back aguin
to the parent stream, the swift gliding Shasta, :

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Within the inclosure was the mill where the stamps crusllé
the ore, the sluice-way for washing it, the shanty—Talbot a?
Brown’s residence—and the little office which was store-ho
and office combined. 4

The stockade fence had been originally set up for warlil
purposes, for at the time of the settlement of the valley, tl
fierce warriors of the red McCloud threatened perpetual

oa!

nity. :

Talbot, bidding Brown keep an eye upon the anticipall
foe, had hurried into the shanty to procure arms and amu!
nition. }

Dick stole quietly into his wife’s room. She was soul
asleep, and a gentle and peaceful smile illuminated her pi
features. She looked better than she had fora long time al
the heart of the stern, strong man experienced a great thro!
of joy as he noted the change. Then, withdrawing as quiet)
as he had entered, he went into Brown’s apartment w here
guns and ammunition were always kept.

A couple of six-shooting Colt’s rifles stood in a corner, até
near them, two revolvers hung on .the wall. The cartridgé
were op a shelf handy.

Talbot stuffed his pocket full of the copper tubes, powde| —
ball, and cap combined, took the rifles and revolvers, the
left the house and rejoined Brown, who, seated on a hug
bowlder, was watching through a crevice in the fence #
movements of the men gathered by the bank of the river.

Talbot gave the two revolvers to Brown, who, as a gene
rule, went unarmed, and leaning the rifles up against th
fence, sat down on a bowlder a yard or so from the forema

“ Well, what do you think of it?” asked Talbot, speakid
as quietly as though he had questioned Brown as to the me] —
its of a julep.

‘“Looks like a thunder shower; may blow over though,
Brown replied, reflectively.

“ Brown, I’ve kinder got you into this,” Talbot observe
slowly.

“Have yon?” said the foreman, doubtfully. ‘‘ Wal, now,
I’ve bin reckoning ‘twas this pesky pole-cat of a speci®
agent.” ]

“The careless expression fully revealed to Talbot that th@
burly foreman was with him to the death. 5

Silently, Dick leaned forward and extended his hand; Brow®
clasped it in his huge paw. The two men thoroughly undel
stood each other; companions either for life or death. :

“ Dick, how about the Irishman?” asked Brown suddenly

Talbot turned to look at O’ Rourke; he was sitting with bB-
back to him. The Irishman, rifle in hand, was looki
through one of the crevices in the fence near the gate.

** It’s none of his soup, you know,” Brown added.

“That's so,” Talbot said, thoughtfully.

 
FIGHT FIRST 145

— -Pain’t exactly the cheese to mix him up in our funeral.”

“You're right, old man; I'll talk to him—explain matters;
frather think he don’t exactly understand how things are.’

And then Talbot, raising his voice, called the Irishmian.

_ “*O’Rourke !”

_. ‘Yis, sur,” replied the Irishman, and as he approached

F both Talbot and Brown noticed that he had the hammer of

is rifle drawn back, and that he bad belted two revolvers to

is waist.

“ Perhaps you're a little astonished at what has just taken

Dace?” Talbot said, as the Irishman halted in front of him.

“Oh, no, sur,” O’Rourke replied quickly; ‘‘ ve bin too
long in ’Merica to be astonished at any thing, sur.”

“Well, we’re going to have a fight!” t

_“More power to ye!” yelled the Irishman, evidently ex
Cited.
“But it’s none of your funeral, you know—”
“Begorra! I hope it won’t be!” O'Rourke interrupted.
but you don’t exactly understand,” Talbot con-
; “ we're going to have a fight—”

“ Shure and I understand that!” exclaimed O’Rourke. ‘ Be
the powers I’ll break some of their heads, the dhirty blag-
gards!”

“ But it’s no quarrel of yours—”

*““Who the divil said it was?” demanded O’Rourke, evi-
dently astonished. =

“ But there’s no occasion for you to fight—”

- “No occasion!” cried the Irishman in a rage, ‘‘an’ them
blageards shaking their dhirty fists at us! Jist suy the word,
Misther Talbot, an’ Pll go out an’ murdher the whole of
them!”

Neither Brown nor Talbot could repress asmile at the eager
earnestness of the warm-hearted son of the Green Isle.

“Tf you will only keep quiet a moment, O’Rourke,” Talbot
Said, “I will explain just what the difficulty is.”

“Oh, to the divil I'd pitch explanation!” cried O’Rourke,
scornfully. “ Let’s fight furst an’ explain afterward !” ‘

“ But it’s none of your quarrel, and you need not fight at
all,” Dick explained. ‘‘ You can walk out of the gate before
the trouble begins. They have nothing against you.”

“An’ it is to get out I am, bekase the dhirty blaggards
didn’t sind me am invitation to fight wid ’em!” exclaimed
O'Rourke, evidently in a state of high indignation, “Shure,
Misther Talbot, iv’s a good man ye air; a dacenter master a
poor boy never had; but, by me soul! you insult the blood
of the O'Rourke when you think that ’d walk out forninst
that gate, an’ lave you and Misther Brown for to fight them

‘ rapparees alone. No, sur! begorra! Td die furst—an’ then |

» wouldn't!”
The two men were touched by the devotion of the Irishman.
-

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Talbot made one last effort to save him from the danger that _
he appenred to be so willing to encounter. ¢

“See here, O'Rourke, if we do havea fight, which looks |
pretty probable just now, there may he some killing done; |

then if they get the best of us in the end, they may hang us.”

“Misther Talbot, it’s proud I’d be to be hanged by the side. |

of you, sur,” the Irishman replied, with a low bow.

‘There was no use arguing with sucha man, and Talbot

gave up the task. f
‘All right, old man; if you ‘chip’ in of your own freé

will, goit? I only wanted you to understand how mattet® |

stood.” i
‘*Oh, shure I know all about it, sur,” O’Rourke replied, #

cunning grin upon his face. ‘‘I heard two of thim blaggards |

talkin’ this mornin’, an’ they were sayin’ that it was time you

 

wasn’t here, But they haven’t got you out yit, Misther Tak —

bot. Be the powers! three of us wid these pop-guns could
hould the place ag’in’ a hundred of them!”
“ Hallo!” cried Brown, suddenly ; ‘‘here’s Congleton cont -
ing!” 3
Brown had been keeping watch through one of the crevices

   

in the fence, during the conversation between Talbot and the a

Irishman.

“He has a paper in his hand,” observed Talbot, lookin
through one of the holes in the fence; “ but I reckon it wl
take something more than that to get us out of this mine !”

CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE LAST DEMAND.
- CONGLETON advanced to within a hundred feet of the stock

carried a folded paper in his hand.
“T should like to see Mr. Talbot!” the special agent said.
“Tm here, sir; what do you want?” £
“Tf you will have the kindness to step this way, I have §
little document. to deliver to you,” Congleton said.

sde and halted. As Talbot bad noticed, the special agent :

“The polecat don’t dare to walk up like a man and spit out j

what he’s got to say!”” Brown exclaimed, in contempt.

Dick jumped down from the bowlder and proceeded to oper ;

the gate. a
“TH see what he wants,” Talbot said, removing the heavy

bar that held the gate closed. “ We'll use no violence excé
in self-defense.”

— pol

a ee Ste 4 pe ph op oP SS, et

““Mebbe they’re up to some gum-game,” Brown suggest@™ | —

suspiciously. : : 3 “ye
“ Cover Congleton with your rifle; if they make a sig?

 
THE OFFICIAL NOTIFICATION,

advancing upon me, drive a ball through him!” Talbot said,
| tersely.

“You bet!”

_ The two little words and Brown’s emphatic manner of de-
Ivery spoke volumes.

Talbot threw open the gate and waiked forth toward the
Speculator. Before he had got half way to him, though, a vis
ble change appeared in Congleton’s manner. His face grew
& trifle white and his eyes moved nervously in their sockets.
Talbot guessed the reason. The speculator had discovered
Brown and the shining tube of the Colt rifle.

“See hyer, I don’t understand this sort of thing!” the law-
yer exclaimed, in expostulation, as Talbot approached.

“What do you mean?”

“Why, Mr. Brown with that gun!’ Congleton replied.

“T reckon he won’t trouble you if your folks over there
keep quiet,” Talbot observed, coolly. “‘‘ Now, then, sir, I’m

ere; what do you want with me?”

“Mr. Talbot, « very unpleasant duty has devolved upon
the,” the speculator said, striving to appear ‘composed and
dignified, a rather difficult task for even a‘ braver man than
‘the special agent, considering that Brown, with an ugly look
Upon his face, was leaning over the top of thé stockade; his

~Ungers playing carelessly with the lock of the rifle that he

held in his hands. “I repeat, sir, a very disagreeable duty.
You must be aware that, after what has happened, it will be
impossible for you to hold the position you now occupy: As
‘the representa ive of the Cinnabar Company, Thereby give
You a chance to personally tender me your resignation.”

“* And if I don’t see fit to do that?” Talbot asked, quietly.

“Then, sir, 1 shall be obliged to deliver to you this letter,
Which contains an official notification that the services of
nett and Mr. Brown are no Jonger required by the Cinna-

ar Quartz Mining Company.”

“*T guess you’d better give me the official notification,” Tal-

t observed, in his quiet way.

“There it is, sir; that is your notification, sir, and if you

_ Will ‘have the kindness to show it to ‘Mr. Brown, I shall be
Much obliged, sir.”

— Congleton landed the paper which he held in his hand to
the superintendent: sigs 0

Talbot opened the letter and read it through carefully. It
Was merely a notice couched in exéeeding brief terms that the
Services of himself and Mr. Brown were no longer required

the Cinnabar Company.

“No reason assigned here for this action, I see,’ Talbot re-
Marked, reflectively. ‘

“Really, was not aware that any reason was required,”

_ Nongieton replied; “ but if you carry this matter into aJaw-
 Sourt, probably the Cinnabar Company will be ablé to give

 
 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

good and sufficient reasons for their action, or stand the hag
ard of failing to do so.”

“Oh, you expect this affair to get into a law-court, eh?”

“ The company stands ready, sir, to meet you there, if you
think you are wronged by our action.”

“You are posted in the iaw, I suppose,” Talbot said, in 8
thoughtful sort of way.

‘*In regard to this case, reckon I am posted,” CongletoB
affirmed, in a tone of easy condescension.

“Did you ever hear the saying that possession was niné@
points of the law?” }

“ Well, yes, I think I have.”

‘Notice to quit, and signed by Hosa Congleton, special
agent, Cinnabar Quartz Mining Company,” murmured Tal |
bot, thoughtfully, gazing at the paper which he held open i! | _
his hand. j

Then, in the coolest and quietest manner possible, he tor
the letter into little bits, put them all in the palm of his hand,
and with a gentle puff of his breath blew them into the face
the astonished Frisco sharp.

“That’s my answer to you, sir,’ Talbot said; “ now git! and
just bear in mind that I hold the Cinnabar works, and wilt
hold ’em against Satan himself!”

Talbot turned upon his heel and strode back toward thé
mine, leaving the special agent almost speechless with rage |
He did not dare to show his passion, though, nor make apy |
attack upon’the man who had so carelessly walked away from | —
him, for he knew that Brown, from the top of the stockad& | —
kept a wary eye upon him, :

Chafing with rage, and yet well pleased that the superil:
tendent had so boldly challenged his power, Congleton hurrié
back to where the strikers were gathered by the bank of th®
river. {
Quite a crowd of loungers had assembled, eager to see the
fun, and as Congleton came up to the crowd, Hughes, th® |
Mayor, arrived upon the scene. 3

To the Mayor, Congleton. briefly explained all that had 00 |
curred, 3

Hughes, of course, instantly sided with the special agen
but suggested it was probable there would be considerable?”
trouble in getting possession of the mine. ;

“ Not at all!” Congleton rejoined, briskly; “ there’s twent!
of the boys hyer, at least, that will take a hand in the ful
They'll knuckle fast enough when they see that we’re in dea®
earnest, this hyer durned superintendent and foreman.”

“ Well, go it; I'll get out of the way, so that they can’t call
upon me to interfere,’ and the Mayor departed. 4

Kentuck arrived just. at this moment and volunteered @
take a hand in the coming attack.

Yankee Jim had been conversing with the strikers W®

 
THE WHITE FLAG. 149

urging them to go in and ‘‘wipe out” the superintend-
ent.

Since Talbot had interfered in behalf of the two Chinamen
he had fallen in very bad repute with the miners generally.
It had been asserted around town, too, that the superintend-
ent of the Cinnabar works had openly said that in a month
he wouldn’t have a white man on the place.

And with this sort of feeling existing in the breasts of the
brawny miners, it did not require much urging on the part of
Congleton and his captains, Kentuck, Yankee Jim and Jake
Shaw, to work the passions of the miners up to fever heat -
against Talbot.

“Gents!” cried Congleton, as a “wind-up,” “Tl give a
thousand dollars to be put in possession of the Cinnabar mine!
You kin share it among you jest as you like—say share and
Share alike for all that takes part in the fuss!” ~

‘*Let’s go fur’em!” cried Shaw, drawing a revolver from
his belt and flourishing it in the air.

“Hold on! Let’s give ’em fair warning; mebbe they’ll quit
Without any fight when they see that we mean biz,” suggested
another one of the crowd.

This idea was received with general favor, and so it was
resolved to send a white flag in charge of Shaw, to negotiate
with Talbot and Brown in regard to a surrender.

Before the flag of truce was dispatched, the attacking force
was divided into three squads, commanded by Jake Shaw,
Yankee Jim, and the gambler, Kentuck.

The first squad was designed to operate against the stock-
ade from the north, the second from the south, and the third
was to force the gate of the stockade. ;

Cautiously, taking advantage of the shanties that werr
convenient for cover, the three detachments got into position.

A hundred yards of open ground surrounded the Cinnabar
works on three sides; on the fourth, the wall of rock, in which
Was the tunnel of the company, rose straight upward for three
hundred feet at least.

With the white flag, a dirty-brown towel tied on a stick,
Jake Shaw stepped boldly forward and walked up to the gate
of the stockade.

When he got within a dozen feet of the fence, Talbot's head
rose above the stockade. h

“ Well, Mr. Shaw, what can I do for you?” the superintend-
ent demanded, =f, :

“We're goin’ to, take this hyer shebang, an’ we want to
know if you're willin’ to quit peaceably,” Mr. Shaw said,
boldly. ;

a Mees quit,” replied the superintendent, laconically,

“ See hyer, we mean business!” Jake observed,

“80 do I!”

“You won't quit?”

 
KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“See you in blazes first !
“Somebody’ll get hurt !”

“T reckon that’s so; picked out your tombstone yet ?” +3
“You won't quit?” No notice taken of Talbot’s facetious
question.

“Nary time!”
“Tharll be trouble!” And with this remark, Mr, Shaw re-
treated. ;

CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE ATTACK.

Tue three within the beleaguered stockade prepared for
the apparently inevitable encounter.

Talbot had noticed the three detachments approaching the
mine in different directions, and understood at once that it
was the intention of the assailing party to attack at three sep-
arate points at the same moment so as to divide the fire of the
defense.

‘Brown, you take the north fence, V’ll take the south, and, | |

O’Rourke, you take the gate,” Talbot said. “Pick your men
and drop them as they come in. Don’t fire in ahurry. Aim
first at the Jeader of the party. If we can lay out two or ©
three of the foremost men, the rest won’t have much stomach
to climb over the fence and we popping at ’em with our re-
volvers. Take ’em quietly, and plug the leaders first.”
O’Rourke, whose Celtic blood was in a flame at the prospect —
of a ruction, could not restrain the delight he felt at exchang-
ing shots with the “ blaggards.” 4
“How about the wife?” Brown questioned, in an under-

tone, as he passed by Talbot to take his position on the north. — 7

“*She will hardly suspect the truth,” Talbot replied ; “ it
cannot be helped: it is Heaven’s will. Blood must be shed.
We are in the right and must conquer.”

‘*T hope that the special agent will take a hand in the fun,”
Brown said, grimly. ‘Let me get a single crack at him and
T reckon that thar will be one polecat less in this world.”

Silently, Talbot wrung Brown’s outstretched hand. Then
a cry from O’Rourke alarmed them,

** Oh, holy smoke! they're comin’, the blaggards !”

With nimble feet, both Talbot and Brown hurried to their
posts, cocking their rifles as they ran.

' As the Irishman had said, the three detachments were |

dashing at the fort at the top of their speed, encouraging each
other as they ran, with loud and savage yells.

Theattacking force got. within two hundred feet of the —
fence before there was a single manifestation of hostilities

upon the part of the besieged. : :
Then Talbot deliberately took aim at Yankee Jim, who led

 
WHO RAN FIRST?

the attacking force designed to operate against the southern
Ride of the stockade, and the ruffian went down with a yell, a
dali through the fleshy part of his leg.

The sound of Brown’s rifle re-echoed that of Talbot, and
dake Shaw, with a builet through the shoulder, fell, cursing
{Md eroaning, to the ground. Then followed a regular volley

Of shots as O'Rourke fired the whole six barrels of his piece

tt the attacking force as fast as he possibly could, and then,
Ma frantic sort of way, grabbed his revolvers and blazed

way with ‘them.

O’Rourke’s first shot had grazed Kentuck’s cheek and
| drawn the blood; the Irishman had fired to kill, unlike Talbot

{d= Brown, who merely tried to disable their men, and
O'Rourke, therefore, hid aimed at the head.
~ Kentuck had halted and clapped his hand to his cheek, un-
der the impression that he was badly hurt; the rest had halted
44 Also, following their leader’s example, and then had come the

Wild discharge of O’Rourke’s fire pattering harmlessly about
their heads, but it produced a pinie, and faneying that they
Were exposed to the wliole fire of the “garrison,” the whole
| Party had retreated in hot haste.

The example of the middle detachment was not lost npon
the other two, and as they had halted upon the fall of their
| Tespective leaders, they improved the chance to turn the halt

nto a full retreat, carrying the wounded men with them.

Then O’Rourke’s head appeared above the stockade,

Wild and exulting shouts came from the battle-crazed Irish-
Man. Defiintly he called upon the retreating foe to come
back and be “kilt” like ‘‘ gintlémen,” and upbraided them
for showing the “‘ full front” of their backs at the first. fire.

But the discomfited foe were quite satisfied with the trial

ey had had, and were not to be taunted into a second attack
At present. And, as is quite usual in such cases, each de-

chment blamed the other for being the first to show the
White feather.
~ Then, too, when they had examined the wounds of the men
Who had been hurt, and discovered that they were far from
ing dangerous, their rage knew no bounds.

-Kentuzk felt disgusted with himself that he had allowed
= panic-stricken followers to carry him away with their

sh

uc We're a set of infernal fools!” he exclaimed, savagely.
, Why, we had the game right in our own hands when we
8ot skeered an’ run like a pack of durned frightened rabbits!”
Then came a lot of blustering talk. Each individual man
%Sserting that he hadn’t run until he’d seen somebody else
n, and the entire force, although they had not been very
ger to fight Talbot and his friends when the time for ac-
On came, now atrived within an ace of getting into a most
femendous fight among themselves as to who’ had run first.

 
152 KENIUCK, TIE SPORT.

With consideratle difficulty, Kentuck managed to qué!
the troubled waters of dispute, and then arranged the plan f0
a second attack upon the stockade. ;

“ There’s onty three men inside the fence,” he exclaime@]
“They can’t fire more than six shots apiece with their rifié
and then they'll have to fall back on their revolvers, and
volvers are mighty onsartin. Now, we don’t want to atta
in regular bodies at all: we want to jest spread out like a fal
each man on his own hook, and skirmish up. Jest as soo?
as their six shots apiece are fired, they’re done for.”

“ But how will we git over that blamed fence ?” asked #
stalwart miner, who evidently meant business.

“Cut the canal that flows under the fence and let the wat@
back ag’in into the river,” suggested Kentuck, eager to dat!
age the property of the mine ‘all he could. “ Then we can g@
under the fence where the water goes now.”

The gambler unconsciously was but repeating the old &
pedient that gave the foreign foe entrance to hundred-gaté
Babylon, the jewel of the East.

Eagerly the miners ran off to fulfill the injunction of thet}
leader, and in fifteen minutes more the waters of the cap] —
were turned back again into the parentriver, and the strea?
that was wont to give power to the Cinnabar mill grew le
and less as the water flowed off, and no fresh water came 0
replace it.

Within the stockade O’Rourke was the first one who hap
pened to notice the decrease of the water.

‘*Oh, Mother of Moses! will ye luck at that?” he cried is
horror, running up to Talbot and pointing to the can
“ Shure! the water's dryin’ up, be gob!” 3

Talbot and Brown instantly looked in the direction indi
eated by the Irishman. They understood what had baP
pened.

“ They’ve cut the canal,” Brown suid, tersely, and he help®
Limself to a chaw of tobacco.

“ They are determined to ruin the works!” Talbot exclaim
ed, bitterly.

“Jt looks like it, pard, ” Brown responded. ‘‘I tell yo
what it is, old man, we’ ve struck the bed-rock in this hy®
concern. [reckon we won't make a million outen this ands
East. to enjoy it!”

‘* Will anybody else make any thing out of it!” Talbot asket
a gleam of fire in his dark eyes.

‘Treckon not much !” Brown exclaimed, fingering the 1o®
of his rifle in an extremely significant manner.

“ Brown, did you try to Kill the man you aimed at ja
now?”

“ No. ”

‘* Neither did I, although I might have killed him as easy
to have put a ball through his leg, asI did.”

q

 
A SHRILL CRY. 153

-. “Dick, old fellow, I’m goin’ to shoot to kill this me!”
_ Brown exclaimed, abruptly. “I begin to see now that this is
| eal business. These asses would kill us as quick as a wink,
if they could.”

“Perhaps they intend to use the canal so as to get under

the stockade.”

Then a yell from O’Rourke interrupted them, just as it had

done on the occasion of the previous attack!
}] , ° They’re comin’ agin, the dhirty blaggards, bad ’cess to
} em!” cried O’Rourke.

_ As the attacking force had decided, they came up in skirm-
'} ‘shing-line fashion, each man for himself, and taking ad-
‘} Yantage of the cover afforded by the neighboring shanties.
Four or tive of the attacking party were armed with rifles
- and the bullets began to sing in the air as they whistled over
‘| the stockade, or with a dull thud buried themselves in the

Wood of the logs.
_. **This rally looks like work,” observed Brown, coolly, as

P he poked the muzzle of his rifle out through one of the holes

Mm the stockade, and took deliberate aim at a marksman
_ Whose head appeared from behind a huge bowlder. ‘I think
can plag that red-headed galoot!” he remarked, abstractedly

as he peered through the sights of the rifle.

And just as the sound of the report rung out on the air,
_ Came the shrill cry of a woman.
- “That's my wife!” cried Dick, in anguished tones.

CHAPTER: XLi
A BLOODY DEFEAT.

Even bluff and burly Brown shivered when the piercing
Scream of the woman rung in his ears. As for O’Rourke, he
_ Was too eagerly watching for a shot at the assailants—his
brain too full of the hot Celtic war-blood to lear any thing
except the sounds of strife.
Brown, with a white and scared face, looked at Talbot.
__ Injun Dick—man of ice and heart of iron—only betrayed,
by the increased pallor of his face, the dire apprehension that
filled his heart.
. ‘© What—what was that ?” Brown said, slowly.
“ Heaven only knows!” replied Talbot, his face deeply lined,
and his brows contracted. ‘I fear the worst.”
**Hadn’t you better go and see !” suggested Brown, :
“And let these villains take the stockade and murder you
in cold blood 2” cried Talbot, his veins swelling with angry
“No, first we'll beat these hounds back, and

 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

 

154 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

A fresh discharge of shots and a yell from the hoarsé
throats of the besieging force interrupted Talbot’ sspeech.

Both of the men, without further words, hurried to theif
respective posts.

lardly had they reached the stockade when the attacking
party, ata signal from Kentuck, quitted their shelter, am
dashed forward at the top of their speed toward the fence.

There were some twenty-eight or thirty men in the attack
ing force, and they had entirely surrounded the stockade, thelf
line stretching from the wall of rock on the north to the same
wall of rock qn the south.

The men of the attacking line were irregularly distributed
at distances ranging from twenty-five to seventy feet of eac
other,

It was the principal of the skirmish line of the regular bat
tle tactics over again. But as the line closed in to the mine
naturally the attack became directed to three distinct points
the gate of the stockade in the center, the dry bed of the canal,
entering under the fence at the south, and the similar dry be
poking out under the fence at the north.

The attack on the gate at the center was directed by Ke’
tuck, but at the canal entrances cach man fought on his ow?
hook.

The moment the foe appeared in sight O’Rourke, not
withstanding that he hud been cautioned in regard to rapi
firing, at once opened the ball, and poured the entire conten
of his rifle, six shots, at the men of the skirmish line, withoul
taking much care as to his aim.

The result was that asthe men of the attacking force wer
not huddled together, as had been the case at the first attack,
O’Rourke’s wild discharge did not damage them in the least

Obedient to Kentuck’s orders, they Had thrown themselves
flat upon the ground, and the balls had whistled harmlessl¥
over their heads.

After he had fired, O’Rourke discovering, for the first tim
that the entire attacking line in his front was prostrate upod
the ground, jumped to the conclusion that he had succeedef
in killing the whole party, and as a natural consequence lié
celebrated his victory by a series of terrific yells.

“ We've bate thim!” he shouted. ‘‘*Oh, Mother of Moses!
Ive kilt ivery blaggard of thim! whoop!”

Conceive the astonishment and disgust of the triumphant
son of the Emerald Isle when the supposed dead men jumpe€
up and poured a volley at him as he incautiously exposed on@
half of his body above the stockade, in his eagerness to nolé
the results of his supposed deadly fire.

Just a single exclamation of astonishment came from
O’Rourke’s lips at the miracle of the dead men coming to life
so suddenly, and then the bullets whistled by his ears, en@
one, better directed than the -rest, struck him in the le!

 

  
IN. EARNEST. 155

6] Shoulder, and hurled him to the ground, where he Jay half
| Stunned by the shock, and pretty effectually disabled from
taking much further interest in the struggle.

f Kentuck and the men under his command set up a loud
shout when they saw the luckless Irishman tumble headlong
from his perch behind the wall, and with renewed hopes from
this partial triumph they rushed onward.

Brown, when attracted by the sounds that denoted an im-
Mediate attack, had hurried to his post by the bank of thie
 €anal, cocking his rifle as he ran.

Thrusting the barrel through one of the loop-holes in the

fence, he had taken deliberate aim at the man nearest to him,
and with the same coolness, as if it was but a senseless mark
of painted wood, instead of a living, breathing human, had
ulled the trigger, and the faithful weapon sped the leaden
all straight to the heart of the assailant.

With scarcely a groan—merely a throwing up of the hands
and a convulsive clutch at the air, the stricken man fell upon

his face, dead.

A second more, and in that second, the firm finger of the

| Cinnabar foreman had recocked the rifle, taken a deadly aim

at another yelling assailant, and had stretched him writhing
Upon the earth with a ball through his lungs.

The fall of the second man checked the hostile advance,
the line came to an abrupt halt; each man asked himself if it
Would not be his turn next, and each one did not care to have
the question answered.

A scattering volley of shots the hesitating assailants directed
at the stockade which concealed their unknown foe.

One of the random, bullets cut through the flannel shirt of
the burly foreman and grazed the skin beneath.

Smarting with the pain and believing the wound to be
Much more serious than it really was, again Brown glared
along the hollow tube, again the finger sped the missile, and
again there was a hollow groan and a man was cut down by
the unerring ball.

Just a single ery; ‘‘I’m played, boys!” and a young miner,
Who had no possible concern in the quarrel in which he had
freely entered, “ jes’ for fun,” was sent, all his sins upon his
head, to his final reckoning.

Three men killed and not fifty foot of ground gained, was
it a wonder that the panic-stricken skirmish line broke in sad
disorder and fell back to their former shelter, each man run-
hing for his life and expecting every moment to hear the crick
of the death-dealing rifle, and perhaps to feel the metal mes-
Senger of fate tearing its way amid his flesh.

But the keen-eyed, cool-ncryed marksman fired not at the,
beaten and flying foe; it was strictly in self-defense he fought,
but he had made up bis mind that the mad assailants, one-
half of whom had espoused a quarrel not their own, should

 
KENTUCK, THE s¥ORT.

distinctly understand that this was war and not jesting. ‘‘ Ey
to him from whom evil cometh.” j

And on his side, Talbot had routed the attacking fore
more quietly even than had Brown, and with far more dire
ful result. 4

Talbot’s blood was in a flame. He feared the worst for his}
wife. The terrible scream that had come from her lips was
still ringing in his ears. A man of an ordinary nature, al}
event of this fearful kind would have totally unfitted for cool
calculation and the nice discrimination necessary to th
marksman’s art. -

Not so with Talbot. The blood was boiling in every vei!
not a pulse in his body but swelled to its utmost with excite} —
ment; for the time he became bloodthirsty; as the parcheé]
traveler in the desert waste craves for the sparkling wate]
that should satisfy tyrant nature, so Injun Dick craved fol} _
the lives of the men that menaced him, craved for their blood
to satisfy the thirst for vengeance that now raged within his}
heart.

As he dropped upon his knee, brought his rifle to hi®
shoulder and glared through the loop-hole in the stockad®}-
calm as a smiling gallant treading with his love the mazes 0
the dance, was the white-faced man, whose eyes shot lurif
fires and whose firm-pressed lips seemed chiseled out OF]
marble. ;

Nine brawny, bearded men, arms in their hands, oath’
upon their lips, and the wild demon of excitement tugging a)
the heart-strings were bounding over the earth, determine@] —
to take the fortress at a single dash. a

Only a hundred and fifty feet and then the bed of the cana}
now only a muddy pathway, would afford them easy acces]
under the stockade.

One minute the onward rush of the armed line, all converg’
ing toward the canal bed, their defiant yells filling the ait]
the next a field of slaughter and the panic-stricken fugitivé
flying for their lives,

Within a single minute the rifle of Talbot sounded on thé
air six times, and each ball sped by the potent powder foun®
its billet in a human form.

Four men on the field killed outright—the crack of rifle al]

- swered by the hollow groan that announced the coming ?
the grim king of terrors—two men severely wounded and if”
capable of moving.

And then, hastily reloading the cylinder of the rifle, th®
blood-crazed marksinan gliured through the stockade intent
upon more prey. , a

And at that monient, just as the attacking forces upon the}
north and south were flying in sad disorder, there came a UF
umphant yell from the direction of the center gate.

Both Talbot and Brown turned quickly toward the sp?

 
BEATEN AGAIN. 157

_ They saw O’Rourke upon the ground, one of the assailants
half-over the wall, and the heads of two others visible above
it.

But before the two could move finger, O’Rourke, disabled
as he was, with a mighty effort raised his hand which still
grasped a revolver, and shot the man on the wall straight
through the temple. With a shriek of pain the assailant
loosed his grip, and falling backward, dislodged the other two

CHAPTER XLI
AFTER THE BATTLE.

Tue bravest of men when collected in a body are almost
as liable to be stricken by a sudden panic asa crowd of
cowards. And so it happened to the attacking party at the
Center gate, headed by Kentuck. :

They had witnessed the flight of their comrades on the
horth and south, but it had only inspired them with a renewed
desire to capture the stockade, and avenge the bloody recep-
tion that their fellow-soldiers had met.

But when Phil Mulligan, the noted desperado, came tumb-
ling down in their midst, the death-yell breaking from his lips,
and his bronzed forehead stained with his blood, they hesi-
tated ; a sudden fear had seized upon them.

Kentuck alone of all the party still retained his courage.

In the faces of his companions he saw the impression
produced by the death of Mulligan, and understood at once
that they were about to seek safety in flight.

This, to his mind, was madness, for be felt sure that a
determined attack now would win the stockade. He saw that
no time was to be lost.

“At it again, boys!” he cried; “one try more and we've
got’ em!”

But even as the vaunt came from his lips, Talbot and
Brown, who had hastened to the spot, poked the muzzles of '
their rifles through the loopholes in the stockade, and opened
fire upon the attacking force.

So near were they to the assailants, that the powder-flame
that came from the muzzles of the rifles singed the clothes
of the miners. But as the defenders of the stockade had
merely blazed away without taking any particular aim,
the assailants escaped any serious harm from the two shots.

The sudden fire was quite enough to counterbatance Ken-
tuck’s words. The miners fled in wild disorder, scattering to
the north and south, so as to get out of the direct range of the
loopholes. So thoroughly demoralized were the fugitives
that half of them at least threw away their weapons that they
night run the faster.

 

 
  

 

 

 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

So thirsty for blood was Talbot that he leaped upon thé
bowlder from which O’Rourke had fallen, and drew 4
deliberate “ bead” upon one of the flying fugitives, and fired.

Brown, perceiving the action, cried aloud in al arm, an
grasped Talbot by the leg.

The foreman’s movement probably saved the life of Ken:
tuck, for it was the leader of the assailants that Talbot had
singled out fora victim.

The ball whistled through the air, not more than six inches
above the head of the gambler.

‘* Hold on, Dick ; don’t fire ’cept in self-defense!” ae fore-
man cried.

The words recalied Talbot to his senses.

“You are right,” he cried, dropping the butt of his vit
from his shoulder. ‘‘I am sorry you spoke, though, for
you had kept quiet, I would have put a ball through that Ken:
tuck, as sure as there is a sky above us.”

“Wal, I’m sorry I did speak,” Brown said, reflectively

“if it saved that ’tarnal pole-cat ; but how in thunder could
I tell who you.were aiming at ? You see, Dick, this has beet
an awful bloody business, anyway.”

“Ts it not right that aman should protect his own?” Tak
bot said, as he descended from the bowlder.

“Sart’in ; but it’s awful the way these poor fellows rushed
to death. °Tain’t our fault, though. Are they clean gone?’

“There is not one within range, now. They will not be
apt to renew the attack in some time, if they do at all. They
have suffered severely in this last affair.’

Then Talbot cast a look at O’Rourke, who was lying quite
still upon the ground, with his eyes closed.

“Brown, you. look after him,” and Dick pointed to the
Irishman. “I’m afraid that he is done for. Pll be back
soon. If you see any movement on the part of the enemy,
call me!”

Talbot cast his rifle into the hollow of his arm, and, with @
wild expression upon his pale face, took his way to the shan-
ty. Ashe walked over the ground, with his long, nervous
stride, his head slightly bent forward, he seemed to Brown’s
anxious eyes more like a metal image of a man strangely en-
dowed with life, than like a human being.

A.long-drawn sigh came from Brown’s lips as he watched
Talbot enter the door of the shanty. The imagination of the
stalwart miner pictured the scene of horror which he felt sure
would meet the eyes of the anxious husband. Since the
time when that one wild scream had rung upon the air, not
a sound denoting human life had come from the house. The
silence of the tomb. had reigned there, and that silence pre-
dicted terrible things.

“Lreckon he’s prepared for the worst, though,” Brown
said, in a Jow undertone, communing with himself And

 

   
   
 
  
 
   
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
    
   
   
 
   
 
    
 
 
  
  
   
   
 
   
   
   
    

ther
tion

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the

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Th
Stai
hu

qui
anc
for
Cla

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de
on

hi

on

 
HOW IT, FELT. 159

/ then, after this comforting observation, he turned his atten-
tion to O’Rourke.

The wounded*Irishman was lying all curled up in a heap;

the pisto]-shot had cost him a terrible effort, and after the
—-€xertion he had fainted.

Brown knelt down by his side and examined the wound.

he red shirt which covered the Irishman’s breast was
| Stained a darker scarlet by the blood that had: flown from the

—Aurt.

The foreman, during his life of adventure, had picked up

} Quite a deal of knowledge concerning gunpowder wounds,
and as be examined O’Rourke’s chest, pushing back the shirt
for that purpose, he shook his head dubiously.

“By king! they’ve plugged him pretty bad!’ Brown ex-
| Claimed. ‘I’m afeared he’s a goner.”

Taking out his handkerchief, the foreman, softly and

elicately, proceeded to wipe away the blood, half congealed

0n the Irishman’s brawny breast.

The touch, slight as it was, seemed to rouse O’Rourke from
is stupor. :
‘The saints be good to us!” he murmured, faintly, as he

pened his eyes, evidently bewildered. Then he caught

Sight of Brown’s bearded face, as the foreman bent over him ;

back to the memory of the wounded man came the recollec-
| lion of the fight in which he had received his hurt.

_“ Have we bate thim?” he asked, eagerly, attempting to

a as he spoke, but his strength was not equal to the ef-
Ort.
“Yes; don’t try to get up!” Brown said, noticing that the
€ffort had caused the blood to flow faster from the wound.
| “Shure, it’s purty bad I’m hurted,” murmured the Irish-
} Man; ‘but we bate thim, though, bad ’cess to the dirty blag-
Zards, I thought Pd kilt the hull of them. I must have bin
lind, for I saw thim all on the ground, an’ thin they all kim
to life an’ blazed away at me.”
“Does the wound pain you much?” asked Brown, again
Attempting to wipe away the blood.

‘* Would it be plaising to yees fur to have a red-hot poker
Stick in atune yer ribs, Misther Brown?” O’Rourke said, pa-
| thetically.

* And is that the way it feels?”

** Bedad it is.”

‘| — Hardly had the words left the lips of the wounded man

| When Brown noticed a decided change come over his face,

 his\breathing became more labored, and it was evident that
€very inspiration caused a pang of pain.

__ * How long is it since we bate thim?” O’Rourke muttered,

Quite feebly.

“Only a few minutes,” Brown replied, wondering at the

lestion.

 

 

 
 

 

160 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“The darkness is comin’ on early to-night,” and the Irish
man half-closed his eyes as he spoke.

Brown at once came to the conclusion that O’Rourke’s
mind was wandering.

“*Oh, no; the darkness won’t come for two hours yet,” the
foreman returned, hardly knowing what to say and fearing
the worst.

“Maybe it’s light to you,” O’Rourke murmured, slowly,
“but it’s mighty dark tome. We bate thim, though.”

Just a single flash of triumph came from the eyes of the
wounded man, and then, with a slight groan from the lips,
the soul of the stricken one fled from its earthly tenement and
sought that haven of peace where strife is not and light is
universal.

Brown shook his head mournfully.

“A better-hearted boy never drew the breath of life,” he
said, slowly. “I hope when my time comes that Tl pass in
my checks as easy.”

The foreman rose to his feet, and with a very grave expres-
sion upon his face walked to the stockade and took a look at
the foe.

No hostile menace could he discover. For the present
there was very little danger of an attack. It would take time
to reanimate the courage of Kentuck’s followers.

Brown sat down upon a stone and waited for events to de-
velop themselves.

Ten, twenty, thirty minutes he waited. All was quiet with-
out the stockade. The crowd by the bank of the river kept
constantly increasing, but did not seem inclined to take hos-
tile action against the fortress which had been defended so
stoutly.

Talbot had not come from the shanty, and Brown argued
the worst from his delay, but he felt a natural delicacy about
proceeding to learn the cause of it.

After some thirty minutes or so from the time that he had
taken up his position upon the bowlder, Brown noticed a de-
decided movement in the crowd congregated by the river.

A man advanced toward the stockade, a white flag in his
hand.

CHAPTER XLII.
THE FLAG OF TRUCE.

Brown recognized the man advancing with the white flag
atonce. It was Jimmy Hughes, Mayor of the city.

When Hughes got within a short distance of the stockade,
Brown brought his rifle to his shoulder and took deliberaté
aim at Hughes, much to that gentleman’s annoyance.

Hello! what are you ’bout?” Hughes eaclaimed, coming

 

aq
an.
Up
the
Va
en!

he
of
lo)
wi
8o
to
BROWN’S RUSE. 161

a halt and looking nervously around him as if in search of
‘lier. ‘You wouldn’t fire onto a flag of truce, would
Jour”
,‘‘That depends upon. sarcumstances,” Brown replied.
What mought you want, Mister Flag-of-truce?”
|. “I want to have a talk with you folks ’bout this hyer busi
jess,” Hughes answered, still nervously looking at the threat-
| *ting rifle, which Brown kept at his shoulder.
| ‘Spit out what you’ve got to say,” was Brown’s perempt-
“ry retort.
“Ts Talbot thar?”
“He ain’t fur off.”
“You'd better call him an’ see if we can fix up this fuss.
har’s been a heap of blood spilt a’ready, an’ I reckon thar’ll
more if things ain’t fixed.”
Brown’s first thought was that the flag of truce was merely
‘Adevice to throw the defenders of the stockade off their guard,
nd then take advantage of the ruse to spring a sudden attack

- | “pon them. But, after glancing at the enemy, gathered by

le river, it was plainly evident that they had no idea of ad-

mncing against the well defended fortification for the pres-

"nt.

“ All right; I'll tell the superintendent,” Brown said; then
le dismounted from the bowlder, disappearing from the sight

} °f Hughes behind the fence. But as the feet of the foreman
touched the ground it occurred to him that it would be as

Well to deceive Hughes into the belief that he was still in per-

oe danger. So he exclaimed, just loud enough for Hughes

© hear:

“Rourke, draw a bead on Mister Hughes, and if you see
{ny signs of a gum-game, plug him!”

And then he picked up the gun of the dead Irishman and
thrust the muzzle through one of the holes in the fence, sup-
} Porting the butt upon a convenient bowlder.

Hughes was now doubly alarmed. He could see the barrel

Of the rifle sticking through the fence, and he nothing doubted
that the Irishman was at the other end of it.

“It’s all square, Mr. Brown!” he exclaimed. ‘‘I pledge
You my word that every thing is all right. We want to settle
the matter up without further bloodshed.”

“No danger to you, Mr. Hughes, if the folks yonder don’t
try to flank us,” Brown replied, from behind the stockade
And then xe pretended to give further orders to O'Rourke.

“Don’t fire on the flag unless you see signs of treach-
ery.”

j “Yes, Mr. O’Rourke, be careful,” exclaimed the Mayor,

s who began to feel that he was in a very awkward position ;

for heaven’s sake be careful how you fool with the trigger
of that cursed rifle. You might set the thing off without in-
lending to do so.”

 

 
 

 

 

 

142 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

Brown, chuckling inwardly at the success of his clever ruse,
walked toward Dick’s shanty.

Not a sound came from the house. Brown hesitated as he
stood upon the threshold, his hand upon the latch. It seemed
to him like entering a tomb.

“Thar’s death inside, I reckon,” the foreman muttered, to
himself, as he lifted the Jateh and entered.

The lower floor of the shanty consisted of one large room,
from which a rude stairway led to the second story, which
was divided into two small apartments.

Talbot was not in the lower room.

“T reckon he’s up-stairs with his wife”? Brown murmured, as
he ascended the frail stairway, which creaked and groaned
under his weight.

At the head of the staircase was a little entry running
across the house, In it were two doors leading to the apart-
ments into which the upper story had been divided. The
rear room, which faced the wall of rock; was occupied by
Brown, the front one, the window of which looked out upon
the town, had been assigned to Talbot. The door of the
room was open, but. not a sound came from within. Brown
half hesitated as he advanced to the open door. He feared to
see what he should see.

And, standing in the doorway, a fearful sight met his eyes
—a scene of horror which made even his firm nerves tremble,
and congealed the blood within his vains.

Upon the little bed lay Talbot's wife, stone dead, the blood
oozing from a fearful wound in her breast, and her white
night-dress all stained with the clotted gore.

The sight made Brown sick at heart; his head reeled, and
but that he had rested his hand against the side of the door,
he would have staggered back.

Kneeling by the bedside, his face buried in his hands, was
Talbot ; still as a statue carved of marble, he seemed not t0
heed the presence of the foreman.

After a moment Brown recovered from the feeling of hor’
ror that had taken complete possession of him when first he
had looked upon the fearful scene.

Death, seizing upon the person of the young and lovely
woman within the silent chamber, seemed infinitely mot?
terrible than when his iron talons had clutched strong met
upon the field of battle, with wedponsin their hands ane
oaths upon their lips.

Gladly would the burly foreman have noiselessly with
drawn from this chamber of horrors, without disturbing thé
silent man, wlio was evidently in such deep affliction, had not
circumstances compelled him to interrupt the mourner.

nian Brown said at length, feeling that he must
speak. t

Silently and slowly Dick raised his head, and to Brown ®

 

hy
a

th
h;

&

8
TALBO’S OATH.

- horror, he saw that the pale fice of Talbot was streaked here
-} 4nd there with the blood of his murdered wife.
“ They’ve sent a flag of truce.”
. Talbot gazed at Brown like a man who did not understand
the meaning of words. It was asif the dreadful calamity that
lad befallen him had deprived him of reason.

Brown was staggered for a monfent as he looked upon the
Stolid face—so utterly devoid of all expression.

? “Don’t you understand, Dick?” he questioned, anxiously.
“They’ve sent a flag of truce—you know—the fellows we've
been fighting with.”

“ Yes, the murdering hounds of Satan whose bloody work
8 here,” Talbot said, slowly, and in a voice as cold and low
4s the echo from a church-yard vault.

‘It’s Hughes—Jimmy Hughes, you know, the Mayor.”

“ What does he want?”

“To see you.”

“Pl see him,” Talbot replied ; for the first time seeming to

Wake from the trance-like state into which he had fallen.

here was a fearful meaning, too, in the manner in which he

‘Spoke tlie simple sentence.

. Talbot stooped and picked his rifle up from the floor where

_ it was lying.
Brown ventured a question.
‘* Was she dead, Dick, when you came?”
“Yes” Talbot answered, in the low and measured tone
in which he had first spoken; a voice more fitting a cun-

: se machine framed in imitation of a man, than a man him-

Self, :

“T s’pose she was hit jest afore we heard that scream.”

“Yes, the ball entered through the window.” Talbot point-

€d to the shattered glass,

“Poor thing! it was rough,” Brown observed, feelingly.

“Yes, she was the only tie that bound me to the world. I

Seem to be fated to bring death to all that love me!” Talbot
Said, slowly. ‘ Go ahead ; Pll follow you in a moment.”

_ Brown withdrew at once; he understood that Talbot de-
Sired to be for 2 moment alone with his murdered wife.

,, + single instant, with firm-pressed lips and staring eyes,

Talbot looked upon the features, now cold in death, of the
Woman he had once loved so well. Then, kneeling again by

ler side, he dipped the fingers of his right hand in the clotted
-} ore that had come from the terrible wound through which
} the light had fled, and then, carrying the blood-stained band
_ to his lips, he kissed it solemnly.

“ As I kneel here « living man, I swear that I will neither
orget nor forgive the doers of this deed. One by ove I will
Munt them down to their death, and if 1 fail to Keep this oath
May my heart rot in my body while I walk the earth alive!”
“lowly and firmly came the words from his lips; then, rising

 
 

 

 

 

164 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

to his feet, he seized his rifle, took a last look at the: body;
and hurried from the house.

Brown had returned to the stockade and had informed
Huehes that Talbot would soon come.

The flag-of-truce-man felt. mighty relieved at this intelli-
gence, for he had been in momentary fear that the Irishmal!
might mistake some slight motion’on his part for an indica
tion of treachery, and ‘‘ plug” him instanter, in obedience t
the order Brown had given. So Hughes had remained a8
quiet as a mouse, not daring to stir. Judge, then, of bis
surprise when Talbot appeared above the stockade and pro
ceeded to take deliberate aim at him.

CHAPTER XLIII.
A FEARFUL DEED.

‘‘HELLO! take care! Pm a flag of truce !” Hughes yelled, a
the top of his lungs.

But Talbot was glaring along the barrel of the rifle with
the eye of amadman, and Jimmy Hughes’ life wouldn’t hav
been worth an hour’s purchase, had not Brown, perceiving
the state of mind that Talbot was in, jumped upon the bowl
der by his side and forcibly restrained him.

‘‘ For Heaven’s sake, Dick, don’t fire!” Brown cried in Tal-
bot’s ear; “ this man has never harmed us; to hurt him woul
be nothing but murder |”

Talbot glared at Brown fora moment; then slowly hé
lowered the muzzle of the rifle. =

“ You are right,” he said, slowly. “I begin to think that J
am going mad.”

Hughes somewhat recovered his equanimity when bhé
saw that the deadly muzzle of the rifle no longer threatene
him.

“See hyer, gents,” he said, “I’ve come to try to settle this
fuss up, someway. Tkar’s bin a heap of men killed.”

“ And whose fault is it?” demanded Talbot, sternly. ‘“ we
are here with arms°in our hands to protect our property ,
When we are assailed, then woe to the assailants. We hav’
not attacked any man; we have simply defended oul
selves.”

“ Yes, I understand that,” Hughes said; “ that’s your side
of the story. Now the other party say that they are the law
ful owners of this mine, and that they came to take peaceable
possession of what belonged to them, and that you commitlé
an assault upon them.”

“Did they need an army to back up their peaceable d&
sign?” asked Talbot, bitterly. ‘‘ These men resorted to fore®
and by torce tney were met. We are ir possession of th

 

 

‘h
A FAILURE. 165

» But we have no courts of law down hyer, you know,”
‘“ughes remonstrated.
}.*So much the better for us, and so much the worse for
i Talbot retorted. ‘“ There are courts at Yreka,
Hough ; let the men that claim the mine go there and fight us.”
(, phen you absolutely refuse to give up the property?”
,, Do you suppose that you are tulking to a couple of idiots,
ister Mayor?” exclaimed Talbot, angrily.
But the next attack will come in such force that you can’t
‘Sist.””
|. “Baht Go and talk to the wind!” Talbot exclaimed, con-
, ‘‘emptuously. “© You can’t bluff us down with threats. We're
; ing a Jone hand here and we hold the winning cards.
ifty men may be able to take this stockade, but they'll lose
; Wenty men in the attempt. Then, after the stockade is
: ken, we can retreat to the tunnel, and we can whip a hun-
dred there. Now go ahead with your game ; count up your
: Nand pile in. Just now I don’t care much whether I live
' M die ; maybe I would rather die than live.”
‘But can’t the affair be arranged, anyway?” said Hughes.
Uppose you resign the property into my hands until the law
fttles who it does belong to?” 3

“Oh, no; we reckon we can hold it,” Talbot replied,
iB

‘} “This is your final answer, then?”
_.. Do you want to be told so a dozen times?” Dick exclaim-
a, impatiently. .
‘Mind, I warn you that this will end in the death of all
°f you,” Hughes said, half turning around as if to depart.
} . “TI reckon we'll have a heap of company a-crossing the dark
tiver,” Talbot replied, significantly.
, i give you one last chance!’ Hughes said, impressively ;
Will you surrend@r this property peaceably? I pledge you
Y word, as Mayor of the city of Cinnabar, that I will see
| that you have a fair show for your rights.” :
» ‘When we go out of the Cinnabar mine, it will be feet
frst, T reckon, and four men apiece to carry us.”
_, There was no replying to this grim answer of the superinten-
flent of the Cinnabar mine, und Hughes returned to relate the
“lure of the flag of truce.
y, albot, descending from his perch by the wall, noticed, for
€ first time, the body of the faithful O'Rourke.
“Dead,” he muttered, his brows contracted, ‘killed in a
} Warrel which was nothing to him.”
A deep sigh came from Talbot's lips.
“He would have it, you know,” Brown observed, seeing
He deep impression that the @eath of the Irishman had made
“on the superintendent.

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

166 KENTUCK, THE sronrt.

‘* Blood seems ever to haunt, my footsteps,” Talbot obser
ed, mournfully. “Innocent blood, guiltless of wrong, thi
but for me would not be shed.”

Brown, through one of the loop holes, had turned his attet
tion to watching the movements of the enemy.

“ Any signs of an attack?” asked Dick.

‘No; T reckon that they will wait until dark, and then #
for us,’ Brown suggested.

“We must prepare for that, then.”

‘What do you think of doing?”

. . . » @
“* Taking refuge in the tunnel; we can easily form a bal”
> 2 . .

cade in the mouth of it.”

‘“'That’s so, and we two kin hold it ag’in’ a hundred.”

‘“ Yes, we must provide ammunition, provisions, and watel
Will you go to the house and transport the things, while
will keep watch here?”

Brown readily understood Talbot's reluctance to again ent
the abode where the bolt of death had stricken one so néé
and dear to him. t

“ Sartin,” the foreman replied; “and if you see any sign ©
a hostile demonstration sing out, and V’ll be with you in ¢
wag of an antelope’s tail.”

Brown departed at once upon his mission, while Talbob
seated on a bowlder, watched and waited for the foe ™
come,

But the enemy had suffered far too severely to care si
again rashly dare the strength of: the defenders of the stock
ade.

Time passed on ; lower and lower sunk the sun, and at Jast
it disappeared altogether; the twilight was at hand—the skit
mish line of the night’s sable army. «ple

Then, as the darkness thickened, a movement was visi
upon the part of the enemy. Dark figures commenced t
move to and fro in the gloom. ft

Quickly taking the weapon of the dead,O’Rourke, Talb®
and Brown retreated to the shelter of the tunnel, whé
the latter had built a barricade of bowlders at the entrance: ;

Clambering over the barricade, the two took post bebil
it. Then, for the first time, Brown thought of the bo®

of the murdered woman, and spoke regarding it to Talbots

“‘T hada purpose in letting it remain in the house,”
bot answered. “I wish these bloody villains to look up?
their handy-work. If they are men and not fiends, the sig
should strike terror to their guilty souls.” {0
Brown said no more; words were useless in reference
such a mournful topic. pe
Darker and darker grew the night; the breeze stirred tbe
cedars on the hill-side, and played amid the leaves of ©
junipers. en
Then to the ears of the two men came the sound of ®

 
FIRING THE BUILDINGS. 107

Jing the stockade wall, anda loud yell proclaimed their
tory as they entered the fortification which had been so
Yoldly defended.
, Talbot, clutching hie rifle eagerly, peered through the
“arkness, waiting for « chance for vengeance. But the as-
-jStilants were careful to keep within the dark shadows cast
) the shanties within the inclosure. They felt pretty sure
Hat the desperate defenders of the Cinnabar mine were
Mcealed within the tunnel, and were not eager to expose
Memselves to the deadly aim of the repeating rifles.
5, Lreally reckon that they ain’t a-goin’ to trouble us,”
“town observed, after waiting ten minutes or more and per-
“ving no signs. of an attack.
“They do not dare to attack us.”
Then Brown began to snuf the air as if some peculiar odor
Mas offending his nostrils.
Say, don’t you smell something?” he inquired of Talbot.
“Yes, what is it?” -
“Tt smells like something burning.” @
ardly had the words passed his lips, when a column of
Me shot up on the air from the little shanty which was
“rehouse and office combined.
}, 4 minute more and a light, tongue-like flame came through
“Windows of the large house.
» Kingdom come!” exclaimed Brown, in excitement, grasp-
est by the arm as he spoke: “ the skunks have fired the
dings !”
«So it appears,” Talbot replied quietly.
: But, Dick, the body of your wife?” Brown gasped.
_ Will have a funeral pyre worthy of her pure soul,” the
band said. ‘What matters it how the body comes to
St, whether by the slow process of rotting in the earth or

O yy the action of the purifying flame? The burial of the

*man Jords will do for her. No flame yonder as pure asher

*U, or as bright as her shining worth.”

Brown was appalled by the calmness of his companion. A
N with the strong old New England notions, the burn-

of the dead body seemed to him almost as horrible as

‘murder of the sick woman.

The flames leaped up higher and higher as though they,
Pired to reach the sky. Larger and larger they grew until
"y extended to the stockade fence, and within ten minutes

~ the woodwork within the inclosure was in a blaze.

 
 

 

 

 

 

168 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

CHAPTER XLIV.
IN THE TUNNEL,

As the flames burst forth in their fury, the blaze lighy 2d up
the darkness of the night.

Brown,’'incautiously, had remained near to the entrance of
the tunnel, and some of the besieging force, lurking behind
the bowlders, making use of every ‘‘coigne of vantage” 10
screen them from the fire of the men conecaled within thé
tunnel, perceived the burly figure of the foremian, and salute
him with a shower of bullets.

With an exclamation of pain, Brown drew back.

“You are hit?” Talbot inquired, anxiously.

“Yes, cuss ’em!” Brown growled ; “ they’ve plugged mé@
in the side, hygr. 1 reckon ’tain’t nothin’ more than 4
seratch.”

But the deep and Jong-drawn sigh of pain that came from
Brown’s lips, despite his efforts to repress it, convinced Tal-
bot that the wound of the foreman wasa painful if not #
dangerous one.

Cautiously, Talbot peered into the open space, lit up by the
lurid flames, which were so rapidly reducing to ashes the
property of the Cinnabar Company. Dick thirsted for s
chance to avenge Brown’s hurt.

Zach man, though, of the attacking force had too keen 4
dread of the deadly rifles of the desperate. men conceale
within the recesses of the tunnel, to. wantonly expose them
selves to almost certain death, and so snugly had they co®
cealed themselves, that Talbot looked iv vain for a mark fot
his rifle.

Higher and higher leaped the flames, and then, at Jast, with
a loud crash, the roofs of the two houses tumbled in, and the
walls collapsed.

A great shower of sparks, a dense clond of smoke, and
after these, blazing embers alone marked the spot whereon ™!
shanties had stood.

Along the stockade the flames still burned, but only fitfull¥s
like so many huge torches lighting up the darkness of te
night.

“Wal, Dick, I reckon that this hyer speculation has come
to a’tarnal smash,” Brown observed, quite sorrowfully, a
the shanties yielded to the flames and came down all ip
heap. ‘‘ Nary a hundred thousand dollars will we rake oute?
this hyer mine.”

‘We have one consoling thought, and that is, that the
other party won’t profit by our loss,” said Talbot, grimly.

 
WOUNDED, 169

“Do you reckon that Coheieton had the buildings set on fire
Sa purpose?” Brown asked.
. “No, [think not; he and this sport, Kentuck, started the
_ thing, but the machine has got too strong for ’em now, and is
running itself. Some of the buinmers of the town probably
Set the shanties on fire, so as to get a chance to steal the goods
Contained in them.”

‘“The Cinnabar Company is done for now, anyway,” Brown

remarked sadly.

“Yes; but the mine remains.”

“T reckon that it will never do us much good.”

“Perhaps not; but by heaven no other man shall gain

by it!” Talbot exclaimed, with sudden and fierce energy.

Brown was astonished by Talbot’s manner. It was the

first burst of passion that he had seen him give way to since
the death of his wife.

“T reckon that I don’t quite understand what you mean,”
| Brown observed, dubiously.

“How this affair will end, it is of course impossible for me
‘| to say; we'may be killed here, but if I eseape with my life, I
| #§SwWear that no mortal man shall ever work this Cinnabar mine.
} PN haunt it like a specter, and for every ounce of gold dig

rom the bowels of this rock T'l claim a human life.”

The fiery energy with which Talbot spoke completely as-

_tonished Brown. He began to fear that the brain of his
| SOmpanion had been affected by the terrible events that had
| Sceurred in the last few hours.

Just as Brown was about to ask Talbot what he thought
| the end of the struggle would be, a sudden twinge of pain
- om from his wound, and compelled him to utter a groan of
} Pain.

_ Talbot turned anxiously.
“Tm afraid that you are badly hurt!” he exclaimed.
“Treckon that it ain’t much,” Brown replied, striving to
ear the torture ; “ but I am bleeding a few.”
| ,, “Suppose we draw back to the angle in the tunnel, and
} there I can examine and bind it up,” Dick suggested. ‘Thave
the matches in my pocket.”

“But they may jump in on us.”
|. “ That is not likely, for they can not possibly discover that
| ¥e have retired. Besides, the angle is as strong a position as

) 7 4s one.”
] “Allright; I rally feel weak.”
- at was little wonder, for Brown’s wound was a pretty severe
One,
|, Talbot assisted the foreman to the designated spot, and
‘ tre, by the light of the matches, burning one after the
‘Her, succeeded in binding up the wound so as to stop the
"eakening flow of. blood.
hen the two returned to their former position. During

=
‘

 
 

 

 

170 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

their absence from the mouth of the tunnel, not the slight
est manifestation of an attack had come from the besieging
force.

The hours passed slowly away. The flames of the burning
stockade had died out after consuming about a third of thé
fence.

The moon came slowly up, and cast her pale light ovet
the scene, which bore such terrible witness to the evil pas
-sions of mankind.

The embers smoldered, and the light smoke curled up
gracefully on the air, the smoke-rings plainly visible now 12
the moonlight, but the silence of death reigned supreme within
the little inclosure.

The foe had not abandoned their position, though; for,
every once in a while, a sound would fall upon the ears 0
the two watchers that plainly indicated that the tunnel was
besieged. Now it would be the clear1ing of a gun-stock;
carelessly dropped upon a rock, and again the muttered hum
of voices in conversation.

And then a careless besieger, reckless of the keen-eyed
men whose rifles guarded the tunnel entrance, lit a match and
started a pipe.

The little sputtering flame shone above the top of the
bowlder behind which the man was concealed. Talbot mark
ed the spot, although the fellow was securely sheltered, an
seemed to bid defiance to a shot. The faint glow died out;
the pipe was lighted, and the smoker proceeded to enjoy the
consolation of the fragrant weed ; carelessly sheltering him-
self, he allowed the bowl of the pipe to project beyond the
rock. Talbot, with finger on trigger, had watched the
place ; the red coal of the pipe, glowing in the darkness, like
alittle eye of fire, guided his aim. The hammer fell, and
the leaden ball sped within an inch of the smoker’s nosé,
striking the pipe from his lips, and loosening one of his front
teeth.

With a howl of pain, the man rolled over on his back, and
roared out that his mouth had been shot off,

Provoked by the skillfully-aimed shot, a perfect shower
of balls pattered against the rock, wherein appeared the
oom entrance of the tunnel, looking like a gate to the shades
below.

Neither one of the defenders were touched by the fire, and
they laughed, as they heard the angry oaths of the assailants
rising on the air.

Midnight came.

Still the besiegers lay on their arms ; still the two desperaté
men kept watch and ward. if

And then the cold, gray lines that heralded the coming
= ™~ morn began to line the eastern sky. Day was near at

and,

 

Fe
the |
ing
the)
the

\
retr
mo

I
not
con
the
off

]
Sie,
ths
eff
int
sq
~

“ WEAKENING.” 171

Few words had passed between the two during the vigil of
‘the night. Talbot was brooding over his wrongs and thirst-

-} ing for vengeance, while Brown was endeavoring to conceal

_ the pain his wound was giving him, and was speculating how
the affair was going to end.

With the coming of the morning light, the line of besiegers
Tetreated to a safe distance—beyond rifle range—from the
Mouth of the tunnel.

Talbot, who could now plainly see his foemen, as they did
hot trouble themselves to seek concealment, saw that they
Completely surrounded the tunnel from the wall of rock on
the north to the same rocky wall on the south, thus cutting
off all chance of escape.

Dick had meditated making a bold dash through the be-
Sieging line at the coming of the daylight, but he saw at once
that there was but little chance of succeeding in such an
effort. And as for attempting to scale the wall of rock
into which the tunnel penetrated, it would have baffled a
squirrel.

Brown, too, had changed wonderfully in the few hours
that had elapsed since he had received his wound. His usu-
ally ruddy face had grown quite pale, and Talbot became
convinced that if Brown.did not receive proper medical assis-
tance within a very short time, the chances. were that his life
would be in danger.

And while he was meditating upon this point, Hughes
stepped forward from the besieging line, bearing as before, a
flag of truce in his hand.

Brown’s face assumed a more cheerful expression. Talbot,
who had been watching him keenly, understood the meaning
of the change.

The foreman was “ weakening ;” possibly he feared that
his wound was mortal. It did not take Talbot many seconds
to make up his mind. His first thought had been a desire to
put a ball through the bearer of the white flag.

CHAPTER XLV.
THE END OF THE STRUGGLE,

ArrerR Hughes had advanced a short distance, he was
apparently called back, for he faced around and returned.

This gave Talbot a chance to discuss the situation with the
foreman.

** You are hurt pretty bad, old man,” he said, quietly.

“Wal, I reckon it is a little more than a scratch,” the fore-
man admitted.

“* You need a doctor’s care.”

“T reckon so.” s

 
 

 

 

 

153 KUNTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Suppose we can make terms with TWushes, will we st
render ?”

‘Jest as you say, pard.”

“But what are your ideas on the subject?”

“Play the game your own way and Pm with you,” Brow!
replied, slowly.

““T suppose that if we hold out, the end must come some
time. When our ammunition is gone, the game is up,” T#
bot remarked, thoughtfully.

“* Yes, that is so.”

“ Well, old fellow, I guess we'll surrender—that is, if ™
can make any decent sort of terms.”

“ Jest as you like ; the factis, Dick, I rally think that I au
done for.”

An expression of pain ecime over Talbot's face. ;

“ And you have suffered in my quarrel, too !’ Dick exclall™
éd, grasping Brown’s huge hand within his own delival
fingers.

* A durned sight I have!” Brown retorted. “I reckon that
it was my fight as well as your’n.”

‘* Brown, for my own part, lam careless whether I live of
die, except that life would give me time to Lave a bloody a
venge for the wrong that these hounds have done me; bul
feel convinced that, with proper care, yeur wound would ne
be a mortal one. So, old fellow, if we can make terms wel
give up the ship.”

“Now don’t bother about me; jest go ahead at your ow?
gait. I’m with you, either for life er death!” Brown pl
tested.

Silently Tatbot pressed the brawny hand of the forem#™
The two men thoroughly understood each other.

The days of Damon and Pythius had come again. rh
New World has bad its heroes, demi-gods in their might, bul
no poet to chronicle their deeds in mighty Verse.

Then again Hughes advanced, bearing the white flag.

Talbot showed himself at the mouth of the tunnel. :

‘“‘ For Heaven’s sake, Mr. Talbot; let us end thisawful bus
ness !” Hughes exclaimed, pathetically.

“Come on, Mr. Hughes, and let us hear what you have a
say,” Talbot replied.

Hughes at once accepted the invitation and advanced to
entrance of the hole in the rocky wall.

“Gentlemen, this has been an awful affair, and I want eo
stop itin some way,” Hughes said, earnestly. t

“Tell the men over yonder to go about their business; the
will end it,” Talbot said, laconically.

“They won’t do it, Mr. Talbot. They are all joined ee
gether now, but if they separate, they know very well t f
ou will be mighty apt to try and git squar’ with somé
em.”

 

ton
j
HUGHES OFFER. It
° UGHE R 5

“Their heads are level there!” Talbot said, tersely. ‘ I

¢ckon I shall call upon some of the ‘pilgrims’ concerned in
_ | this little affair to step up to the captain’s office and settle,
, | he of these days.” -

The manner in which Talbot spoke made the Mayor
“Well, now, Mr. Talbot, you might as well cali the thing
Quar’ !” Hughes ejaculated. “ You folks have killed about a

~|Mozen “men outright, but that’s neither here nor thar; ve

}'xed the matter up all right. Now, thar ain’t no kind of

thse in fightin’ about this hyer mine any longer; the thing
has gone to ’tarnal smash, and I reckon it would take a heap

money to put it in running order ag’in. The boys.are jes’
<a of this hyer hull thing and they are willing to quit ef you
) Wi
| “As I said before, let them walk off and not threaten is
th arms in their hands, and that will settle it.”

“Mr. Talbot, as I jest explained, they ain’t willing to do
that, ’cos they are afeard that you will be mighty apt to jump
| *8to some one of ’em, the furst good chance that you git.”
| “ What proposition do they make?”

| “Furst and foremost, for your party to lay down yourarms
} *td surrender—”
|,“ And be murdered in cold blood the minute afterward,”

‘| Palbot said, bitterly.

|, “Jest hear the thing through, furst?’ Hughes exclaimed.
’ ou lay down your arms and surrender ; then signa pledge
| ‘Mat within twenty-four hours you will leave this hyer region
}*hd that you will never return to it. And on my part 1 will
‘|arantee that neither you nor Brown shall be molested in
y way.”

Bat 4.

. Well, that seems fair enough,” Talbot observed, thought-

5 Auhy, “But, see here, Mister Mayor, what assurance have we

|that after we have given up our arms we shall be protected
tom violence?”

“T pledge my honor as Mayor of this hyer city of Cinna-

ar,” Hughes said, with great dignity.

_, Will you sign an agreement to that effect?”

-“* Certainly.”

‘““ What do you say, Brown?” asked Talbot, turning to the
‘Sreman, who was sitting on a rock a short distance from the
Month of the tunnel. z

‘Go ahead; whatever you say I'll stick to,” Brown re-

“For Heaven’s sake, Talbot, accept !” cried Hughes, anx-
‘Ously. “ What better terms could you want? The mine is
tined now, anyway. No use of fighting about it any more.
course, you must know that you can’t hold out in this hyer
hnel forever. The end must come sometime. Hyer’s a
Wndred or more ag’in’ two on you ; sometime you're bound

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

174 KENTUCK, THE SPORT y

to go under. Now, hyer’s a fair chance to git out. You’
jest made the biggest kind of a fight ; why, thar’s bin nigh
onto a dozen killed.”

‘We'll accept,” Talbot said, curtly. ‘ Go and draw up the
articles of agreement, bring them here with two witnesses—
any two good, square men; I'll sign and surrender.” a

“ Now that is sensible, Talbot; best thing you could do!
Hughes exclaimed, with an air of great relief. “ Pll see that
the squar’ thing is done, now mind ; jest give you the clea
white article, and no mistake.”

‘* But suppose the friends of the men that have been hut
in this fight should try to take vengeance upon us after We
surrender and give up our'arms?” Talbot asked, not altogeth@!
easy in his mind. a

“Tl see that that is all right; don’t you worry ’bort that!
Hughes replied, confidently. ‘‘T’ll jest fix a police guard f0
you, and if any man dares to lay a finger on you, I'll sho?
him down myself, right onto the spot.”

“ That’s fair enough,” Talbot observed; and then, as Hugh
turned to depart, he called after him: ‘* Hughes, by the way
just warn the fellows over yonder about advancing witht
range of our fire until you return, for we don’t surrender unl
we read the paper and see that it’s all O. K.”

** Now, Talbot, I wouldn't do any thing that wasn’t on thé
squar’, you ought for to know I wouldn’t; Jimmy Hugh@
don’t go back on his word, nary time!” the Mayor exclaim’
in a reproachful sort of way. !

“All right; no harm in having the matter understood,
Talbot replied. j

Hughes walked rapidly toward the besieging line, 9
Dick watched him with a peculiar expression upon his fac®,

“Tam half-afraid that there is some treachery under thi
Talbot murmured.

Brown overheard the muttered words.

“ Don’t surrender, Dick,” he said.

‘“*Oh, we might as well,” Talbot replied. ‘“ Hughes was
right; we can’t hold out: here forever. The end must co”
sometime. There isa chance that Hughes will see that tbe
agreement is kept. He has always been a fair, square mal

and I can hardly believe that he would lend himself. to any

breach of faith. He has pledged his word; I reckon he
keep it.” 0
Within half an hour Hughes returned, accompanied by te
rominent store-keepers of the city, Isaac Pollock and Da¥
ynch by name, f
After exchanging salutations, Hughes gave the articles f
surrender to Talbot to read. ide
They were extremely brief, only stipulating that, in con®!
eration of Talbot’s party laying down their arms and ple
ing their word to leave Cinnabar City within four-and-twe?

a

 

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© THE SURRENDER. 175
Aours and never to return to it, the Mayor of Cinnabar City
Would guarantee them safety from all molestation.

|. This was satisfactory. All the parties, including the two

4 itnesses, signed their names, and the surrender was com-
Dlete,

_ Hughes then held up his hand as a signal, and a party of
armed men, headed by the Chief of Police, rapidly ad-
if Yanced.

}. “Have to put both of you in the jail till nightfall, ’cos it

Culdn’t be safe for you to attempt to leave town before

}’ark,” Hughes observed. ‘‘Of course you understand that

| ere is a good deal of bitter feeling ag’in’ you.”

albot merely nodded his head. He knew that, unless he

Was protected, his life would be in instant danger the moment

“© stepped from the shelter of the tunnel.

oth Brown and Talbot had given up their arms, but the

<uperintendent, mistrusting danger, had thrust a little toy of

+ Seven-shooter inside his shirt-bosom. If he was to be mur-

; ted, he had determined that he should have company or
“S way to the “ happy hunting grounds.”

An hour later the two men were shut up in the jail shanty,
ile a howling mob roared outside, thirsty for blood.

CHAPTER XLYI.
THE LAST OF THE ‘‘ LUCK.”

Tuer shanty which had been set apart as a place of confine-
;nt for culprits was only a little, one-story, one-room
lilding, situated just about half-way between the Cinnabar
he and the center of the town.
the two prisoners and the armed guards occupied it in
Mmon.
It was very evident that, had not Hughes taken the pre-
tion to protect the prisoners, they would have fared badly
the hands of the enraged mob.
And even after the two were safely housed in the shanty,
the door had been closed and barred, the angry mur-
, “rs of the throng outside could be distinctly heard within
oe jail.
, Talbot did not seem to heed the noise at all, and Brown
4s entirely too sick to pay any attention to the loud-vaunted
eats,
,As it Inckily happened, one of the armed guards was a
ye ot—the only one, by the way, that the city boasted—and
, *r considerable trouble, he succeeded in extracting the
Wl which had remained in Brown’s wound. This afforded
@ little relief to the sufferer, and as the doctor pronounced

'

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

%6 KENTUCK, THE SPORT. +

the wound not dangerous, althongh severe, the burly foremal
began to feel better.

Possibly, if the two prisoners had been aware of what wa
taking place outside of their prison-pen, neither one woul
have taken matters so calmly.

After the surrender had taken place, Kentuck left his patly
and joined Congleton, who, at a safe distance, had watche!
all that had transpired.

The two followed a short distance behind the armed euard
that conveyed the prisoners to their quarters, listened for #
few minutes to the angry exclamations of the crowd, afte!
the two men had disappeared within the calaboose, thet
without taking any part in the heated discussion that was 1?
progress in reference to ‘‘ lynching” the’ men who had sth
rendered, Kentuck and Congleton walked slowly up we
street toward the Last Chance saloon.

Few words passed between them until they entered the
private apartment of the gambler. Each was busy with h®
own reflections, and, althongh they had triumphéd and a
tained the object for which they had toiled, yet ihe yictolY
had been dearly won.

Both men were pretty well exhausted, for neither had g0
much sleep during the vigil of the night.

Kentuck produced the brandy, and the two refreshed thei
selves with a generous dram.

“Well, what do you think ’bout things?” asked Kentuch
in a meditative sort of way.

*« We've won the trick, but it will cost a heap of money ®
repair the damage,” Congleton replied, reflectively. «* How
did it happen that the buildings were fired?” :

“That Lcan’t explain, except that some galoot did it op
purpose, so as to get a chance to help himself to the valu®
bles. I noticed that feller that says his name is Joe Bowel
hanging round the house, and I saw him afterward with
pile of shirtson his arm. I kinder think he started the bla”
It was done durned quick, anyway.”

“ Did you hear or see any thing of Talbov’s wife 2” Co®
gleton said, with a covert glance ut the face of the gamble!

*“ No,” Kentuck replied, after quite alittle pause; ** I reckol
that she went up in the fire. I heard say that she was sick
I tried to get into the house, but the smoke was too much
me, and drove me back.”

© That’s rough, isn’t it i

**You bet!” the gambler exclaimed, laconically. “ If
was sure that it was that Joe Bowers who started the in
I'd send him toa hotier one than he'll ever kindle in #?
world.” #

‘“ What’s the programme now ?” Congleton asked, 54
denly. pe

‘Do you suppose that this man Talbot is going t

9”

dre

 
PLOTTING MORE MISCHIEF. 7?

*ntent to quit the game and levant?” demanded Kentuck,
Swering one question by asking another.
“Well, I don’t know ; What is your idea on that p’int?”
“That either he must die or we will. {know hin now!
Cain’t a-going to quietly trot out of this town; the first
tne we know, he'll Jay in wait for us and measure us for
‘Offins.”
Congleton’s face turned.a shade paler at this abrupt declara-
on.
»,. He has pledged his word, you know, to go, and agrecd
; exer to return.”
Would you keep sich a promise if you were him 2” de-
}-*nded Kentuck. ‘
| © Well, I don’t know,” was the speculator’s guarded reply.
, L wouldn’t!” the gambler exclaimed. ‘’Tain’t in mortil
fu for to do it. I tell you what it is, rocks, we've got to do
both of them or they will do for us. It is no use tryin’ to
Mce the matter. It’s our lives ag’in’ theirs, and T don’t
Opose to be wiped out; no, not by ajug-full.”
“Hughes has promised: that they shall not be molested,”
Mgleton observed.
»,, He’s Mayor of the town, and a pretty good judge, but I
; ‘ckon I know a better one,” Kentuck said, shrewdly.
“Who?” Congleton inquired, rather at & loss to guess the
bler’s meaning.

y
q

|, Judge Lynch; that’s a court that thar’s no appealing
2 Lreckon that he’ll make quick work in this hyer case

|The once tries his hand at it.”
» ongieton pondered over the matter, as if debating the
abilities.
“Hardin, you're right. !” he said, at last. ‘We should he
y.2g like a couple of idiots if we let these men go. The
he is in our hands now, for this affair will. break the com-
fo.d: and wekin buy upthe property forasong. But if these
Ows are let go, they’ll be mighty apt totrouble us. Butdo
think that we can start Judze Lynch after them?”
idn’t you hear the talk on the street as we came along?”
Rtuck demanded. ‘‘T tell you what it is, the boys are hot
blood. Do you s'pose tlie men that have been killed hain’t
ot any friends? Well, L reckon they have, and they’re
shty anxions to squar’ the matter up. It’s all talk now, you
©w, but thar’s deeds back onto it. All they want isa lead-
Some man to cry out for Judge Lynch, and then it won’t
(Ong afore he’s elected.”
But even then, whoever is appointed Judge Lynch might
ilate to execute these two men,” Congleton observed.
nite was not very well posted in regard to the summary and
.ePing manner in which Judge Lynch generally arranged
ters brought before his august tribunal.
on’t you be skeered ‘bout that!” Kentuck exclaimed.

&

 
 

 

 

 

 

178 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Thar's bin men enough killed to hang a dozen. We must
start the machine, and then it will run itself all right. Come,
lev’s go for it; nothing like striking when the iron is hot.”

The sport helped the speculator to more brandy, took a po-
tent draught himself, placed the bottle in its usual abode, and
turned to leave the room. As he faced around, his eyes fell
upon the bird-cage hanging in the center of the apartment.

An exclamation of surprise fell from the lips of the gam
bler, for the bird was not 1o be seen.

Hastily bringing a chair, by its aid he examined the cage
The bird was on the floor, flat upon its little back, with its
claws extended, dead as dead could be.

With a look of sorrow upon his pale features, the gamblet
took the little bird from the cage and stroked his plumage.

“T reckon that this hyer deal don’t mean no good to me,
Kentuck said, solemnly.

Congleton remembered the gambler’s superstition, and
therefore was not astonished at the emotion he exhibited at
the death of the bird.

‘* What seems to be the matter with it ?” he asked.

“A stoppage of the breath, sport,” Kentuck replied, quieé
ly. ‘That is all that ails it. The bank is shet up; it’s cashe
its checks and ‘lit’ ont. The little thing hasn’t been we
since the night when that Talbot—curse him—cleaned me out
and made me shetup shop. Pard, I am rally afraid that that
is some bitter bad luck ahead for me.”

Congleton, not at all superstitious, wondered that a man of
iron nerves, like the cool and calculating A. J. Hardin, &
quire, should allow such a trifling circumstance as the deat
of a Canary-bird to produce such a deep impression upo®
him.

“Oh, that’s only an idea of yours.” d

‘* Mebbe it is,” Kentuck admitted; ‘‘but, between me a?
the bedpost, pardner, I would rather have lost a thousand dol
larg than had this leetle cuss die.”

Kentuck deposited the bird in its cage again, heaved a deeP
sigh, and then proceeded to examine his weapons. d

The speculator rather wondered at his precautions, but 4
nothing. i

“T guess I’m ‘heeled’ all right,” Kentuck said, at lasti
“Vet's git!”

The two proceeded a: once to the street. t

It was plain at the first glance that the war-feeling had nO’
at all weakened in its force. Groups of excited miners, ¥# 0
ing in size from three to ten, were clustered in front OF,
different saloons, all londly discussing the one leading subj&
and nearly ajl denouncing Talbot and Brown in the most vip
orous manner. «tel

To epitomize their remarks, the Cinnabar men had yea
fered in behalf of the heathen Chince; they had trample

 

tre
INCITING THE MOB. 1

the rights of the free white man; they didn’t believe in liquor-
Selling ; they wanted ‘‘ niggers” for workmen, to whom they
Could dictate just what they should do; they had sold goods
out of their store lower than the regular shop-keepers. In fine
they were a couple of scalawags, and hanging was too good
for them.

Kentuck and Congleton approached the largest of taese
crowds, assembled in front of Hughes’ hotel.

After listening to the loud talk for a few minutes, Kentuck
“put in his oar.”

“* Pll tell you what it is, fellow-citizens: what we want is
Judge Lynch, and right away, too!” he exclaimed.

CHAPTER XLVII.
JUDGE LYNCH.

TuHE proposition coincided with the humor of the crowd.
The smoldering ashes of lawless passion raging in the miners’
hearts needed only the breath of a leader to produce a flame.

“That’s ’bout so !” exclaimed one of the bystanders, a stal-
wart fellow, whose “ pardner” had fallen in the fight.

“Straight as they make ’em !” yelled a well-known voice,
and the original Joe Bowers ducked his head admiringly to
Kentuck, much to the annoyance of that gentleman, who
fairly hated the very sight of the greasy bummer.

‘*J jes’ go my leetle pile ‘on Andy, every time!” announced
Mr. Bowers; ‘‘ when it comes to solid chunks of wisdom, A.
J. Hardin, late of the State of Kentucky, is the man for your
Money. Judge Lynch is what you want, gentl'’men, an’ I jest
nominates my old side pard, Andy, fur the office.”

‘No, no!” exclaimed Kentuck, instantly, who had wit

enough to understand that a more reputable citizen than he
Was known to be, was necessary fcr the position. ‘ Irespect-
fully decline ; I ain’t the man for the office, but I can p’int
him out!”

“Go in, Andy, and I'll hold your hat, me noble juke!”
ejaculated Bowers.

“ Who is he?” demanded one of the miners, and the rest
took up the cry. :

“Mr. Congleton here,” and Kentuck indicated the special
| agent with a wave of his hand. ‘“ He’s posted in the law and

Will jest fill the bill.”

“T reckon that we don’t want much law,” growled the stal-
_ Wart fellow who had first spoken, and who burned to revenge
the death of his companion, ‘* Thar’s bin men killed, an’ we
_ know who killed ’em. All the law we want is the limb of a

tree and a rope strong enough to string the murderers up
With.”

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

180 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“ Yes, yes,” murmured two. or three more in the crowd,
friends of the dead men.

Kentuck saw the time had come to strike.

* See hyer, fellow-citizens!” he exclaimed, “ this hyer hull
business ought to be settled inside of an hour. Thar's bi®
blood spilt and the men that spilt it have got to answer fof
it?

“That's the talk! an’ Tl. back yon if nary other man i
this hyer valley does!” cried the stalwart miner, drawing 4
heavy tevolver from his belt and flourishing it menacingly.

“Pm with you, too!” exclaimed a second one of thé
crowd.

“* And me !” said a third.

“1m your mutton, Andy, ole fel!” roared Joe Bowers, shak-
ing his fist in the air, evidently ina state of great excite
ment.

Kentuck was annoyed at the bummer’s persistence in oul
ranting the ranters, but he pushed straight on to the object hé
had in view.

“ Hyer we air, ten, fifteen good men and true; I say, clea?
out these two men to onct, It ain’t enough for them to leav®
town; they must be made to settle for what they have don
Judge Lynch is the man to handle ’em. Talk is cheap and 1
takes. money to buy land; now we want work. I nominal?
ey Congleton for Judge Lynch ; who says any thing ag’?
j $ ~ .

“Yes, yes, Judge Lynch!” the crowd of miners roared, al-
most as one man.

The noise attracted the attention of the rest of the mine!
congregated in the street, and the group surrounding Kem
tuck began to rapidly augment in numbers.

“But Hughes has got them locked out in the calaboose and
a guard over them,” suggested one of the throng. :

‘What right has he to protect these two murderers?” a@
manded Kentuck, fiercely.

“Well, he’s Mayor of the city, you know,” some one in thé
crowd replied.

‘* And who made him Mayor of the city, eh, fellow-citizens?
that’s whar I put it!” cried the sport, at the top of his voi0®
‘* We did! we, the citizens of this hyer town. Besides, rd
like to see the man that dar’s to dispute with Judge Lynch
when he goes fur a red-handed murderer.”

‘Bully for Lynch! Go in, old man!” and similar eries 1030
on the air from the excited miners. ¢

‘* Ao’in Inominate Mr. Congleton hyer fur Judge Lyne
is ita go, gentl’men?” cried Kentuck.

“Yes, yes !” yelled the miners in chorus. '

‘* Now let every man that’s ‘ heeled’ step out onto the mide
dle of the street fur to form Judge Lynch’s police, and I'll
the furst!”

 

ange 20 Saas so oo

of
   
  
 

SUMMARY PROCEEDINGS. 181

And with the word, Kentuck strode into the center of the
} Street, and every man in the group, promptly drawing a wea-
} Pon, followed him.

|} An unarmed man was the exception not the rule in the
Streets of Cinnabar.

Even the bummer, Joe Bowers, produced a six-shooter from
amid his rags and flourished it wildly in the air.

| Kentuck noticed the weapon in the hands of the vagabond,
and the thought occurred to him that the bullet that came so
| Near putting an end to his existence only a few nights before,

Was probably fired from that very identical weapon. But he

ad other fish to fry now, though, and at once proceeded with
| As work.

“Hyer we are now, thirty men, with weapons in our hands
4nd justice in our hearts!” cried Kentuck, as he glanced over
| the throng who had fallen into line, soldier fashion. There
Were over thirty armed men now, and more were coming every

Moment. “‘ lve kinder taken the lead in this hyer thing, but
Tm ready to resien to any better man that wants to take holt
&nd run the machine.”

_ “No, no—go it—deal away, old man—bully for Andy!’ the
frowd responded, disjointedly. The last remark was uttered

. y Joe Bowers, who had been favoring the miner next tohim
| With an account of how many men he had killed with the six-
Shooter that he was flourishing about so recklessly.

“Now, Judge, we’re ready for action !” exclaimed Kentuck,
“ager to move tipon the jail and take possession of the pris-
| Oners,

Coneleton improved the opportunity to define his position.

“Fellow-citizens, J accept the office of Judge Lynch, and if
Tdon't put these murderers through a course of sprouts, then
Mars no water in yonder river nor no truth nor honesty in
Mankind. We'll try ’em furst and hang ’em afterward!”

Yells from the crowd, and a remark from Bowers that 1.
Would save time to hang them first.

“ We're going to Mayor Hughes, and_as free citizens of this
Young city of Northern California, the metropolis that is to
De, we will demand that these hyer murdering villains be
Siven up into our hands to be tried for their crimes. And if
te refuses, fellow-citizens, we'll jest impeach this Mayor and
ct a new one !”

More yelis from the crowd, and then ‘ the army” took up
te line of march toward the caluboose. ;
here was a small window in the side of the shanty, which
Was dignified by the title of jail, and the first intimation that
‘“ither the prisoners, or the armed guard that watched over
them, had of danger was when a tow-headed youth stuck his
lead in through the window and delivered the startling intel-
€ence that Judge Lynch was up and that he was “ going”*
for the Cinnabar men.

   

 

 

    
  
   
   
   
  
  
   

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

The captain of the guard at once requested the youth 10
“Jight ” out and hunt up Jimmy Hughes, and inform him
the trouble brewing.

The messenger departed instanter, and the captain, who
was the chief of police—Cinnabar City had possessed that me
tropolitan luxury after the election of Hughes—gathered his
men by the door and window, ready to do battle with the fol-
lowers of Judge Lynch, although it must be confessed that
both the captain and his men appeared to be more anxious
for the fight than they really were, for in truth they cared lit
tle to engage in a deadly encounter with the force that was
approaching in such martial array.

“Don’t you be skeered!” cried the captain, vauntingly, ad-
iressing the prisoners. ‘I reckon it’s only a leet!e fun that
the boys are having. I reckon they know who’s chief of po-
-ice in this hyer town, and if they don’t, they’ll be mighty apt
to find out, if they come foolin’ round this hyer ranch.”

Talbot only smiled in his calm, quiet way ; he did not put
much faith in the vaunted ability of the redoubtable captail
of police.

Brown, who was stretched at full length upon the floor;
with his wound bandaged up, turned uneasily and looked uP
into Talbot’s face.

“Does your wound hurt, Bill?” asked Dick, mistaking the
reason of the movement. :

“No, not much; but what do you think of this Lynch bust
ness ?” Brown asked, anxiously.

“What do I think, old fellow?” Dick said, in his quiet ways
“why, I think that we are both doomed men, and that the
quicker we make our peace with this world and prepare fot
the next the better.”

Bee's we have Hughes’ word that we should not be molest
ed.

“«He will be powerless to do any thing against a mob.”

“ But these men ought to be able to keep them off.”

Talbot shook his head.

“They will not endanger their lives for us, old fellow. I
was afraid of this when I agreed to surrender. I had half ®
mind to stick to the tunnel and die like a rat in a corny
fighting to the last; but it’s too late to think about that
now.

Hoarse cries outside interrupted the conversation.
The bloodhounds were at hand,

 

   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
 

 
   
  
  

DEMANDING THE PRISONERS.

=

 
    
   
   
    
   
   
  
   

CHAPTER XLVIII.
A PUNIC FAITH.

| .‘**Hetro! don’t come so near or we'll fire into you!” ex-
Claimed the captain, pointing the shot-gun with which he was
armed at the throng outside the house,

“Ef you do, gentle Thompson, thar’ll be a dead police cap-
Pn round hyer in two minutes arter,” responded Joe Bowers,
‘4 Who was one of the foremost of the crowd.

t A yell of derision from the crowd, which was,not at all com-
- | Plimentary to the captain of police, accompanied the bum-
t | Mer’s speech.

7 The worthy captain was wrathy, but from the looks of the
b armed throng he concluded that discretion was the better part
pD | of valor.

“What do you want anyway ?” he asked, sullenly.

“In the name of Judge Lynch, I demand the two prisoners
P | Now in your hands,” said Congleton, stepping forward.
Talbot recognized the voice. :

ee 4, That’s the Frisco sharp,” he observed, quietly, to Brown.
4 T reckon our goose is cooked, old fellow.”

i | Brown merely uttered a low groan in reply; since he had
Teceived his wound, half his fortitude seemed to have deserted
fi | Alm,

i | “TI don’t know anything ’bont Judge Lynch,” the captain
or cro, doggedly. ‘‘Mayor Hughes gave these men into
My charge and I am responsible for ’em.”

t “We'll give you a receipt fur’em, William,” suggested Joe
| wers, jocosely.

es See 8 we A

The crowd only smiled at this remark; they were getting
impatient and had almost lost their relish for joking.

“Judge Lynch will take all the responsibility from your
} Shoulders,” Congleton remarked.
| “It’s no use talkin’ !” exclaimed Thompson, blustering ; “I
fan’t sive up the prisoners. I want you to understand that
4ll this hyer business of Judge Lynch is ag’in’ the law.”

“We don’t ask your opinion upon that p’int!” returned
} Yongleton, sharply. ‘‘ Weare full-grown men, and not babies,
— | 8nd IT reckon we know what we are doing. We are not ag’in’
| the law, for we are the law. But we don’t want any more

: We want the two men that you’ve got inside that

Shanty. We ask you for ’em peaceably, and if that don’t an-
Ser, we'll take ’em from you by main force.’
Then the crowd growled ominously, and those nearest the
anty began to play with the locks of their weapons in an
®Xtremely significant manner,

 

or

 
   
 

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eae nn

 

 

184 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“Tl bet ten dollars to a Chinaman’s pigtail that I kin plug
the capt’n in the left eye, furst time!” cried Bowers, very
ciferously, and taking deliberate aim at the captain.

Thompson drew his head in the window, and his face 4%
sumed a nervous expression.

“See hyer, gentl’men, this ain’t right!’ he expostul: ated.
“T've got “orders from the Mz ryor to protect these hyer tw?
men. Weare all armed in hyer.

This attempt of the captain’s to intimidate the followers of
Judge Lynch was received with a shout of derision.

“And we're armed out hyer, and we mean business, too,”
replied Congleton, § significantly. “We've got men enough
byer to chaw you al! up. But we don’t want to do that
We talk to you as fellow-citizens, We ain’t got anything
ag’in’ you, but the two men inside thar we’re going t
ve. We want you to understand that. We're going t0
have ’em, if we have to kill every man that thar is inside that
shanty.”

The captain looked at the armed followers of Judge Lynch,
then upon his own men clustered by his side. He saw writ
ten on every face the reluctance to resist the demand of Judge
Lynch. In truth, it was but the sheerest folly to think for 4
moment of contending with the overwhelming force that sur
rounded the shanty.

Then a brilliant thought occurred to Thompson.

““ Will you hold on fora moment till Mayor Hughes comes?’
he asked, addressing Congleton. “I’ve sent for him and esi
be right along. Then you kin settle the hull matter with him.
Tf he says that ivs all right, why that jest takes the responsi
bility offen my shoulders.”

While Congleton was hesitating fora moment whether to
yield to the request or not, a cry was raised from the outsidé
of the crowd that Hughes was coming.

It did not take the ‘worthy Mayor long to arrive upon thé
scene of action.

“ Gentlemen! gentlemen !” he exclaimed, half out of breath,
“JT must protest against this action. It’s contrary to law.”

“Who made you Mayor of this town?” asked Congleton,
abruptly.

Hughes was rather astonished at the bluntly pnt questiov,
but proceeded to answer it, not suspecting | its drift.

**T was elected by the voters of the cit os

** Exactly, and I, Judge Lynch, was elected by the voters
of this city,” Congleton “rejoined, “We derive our anthori-
ty from the same source, but in this business, Mister Mayor,
TI reckon that if you are going to undertake to protect thes
hyer two men, and should put the thing to vote, the towB
would go a hundred to one ag’in’ you.’

“But, see hyer,” exclaimed Hughes, perceiving that he was
getting the w orst of the argt iment, a pledged these men that

  

 
  
 
 
    
   
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
    
  
 
 
 
 
  

if they
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A LASL. EFFORT. 185

ug pate would surrender peaceably they should not be mo
ed,

1 “The court is well aware of all that, Mayor Hughes,” Con-

Sleton replied, blandly. ‘We don’t want you to do anything

That isn’t all fair and squar’, sir. No, sir, this hyer court i

d Would feel hurt if she compelled the Mayor of this hyer city |

'o break his word even to red-handed murderers like the two

Men inside that air shanty.”

of Hughes breathed a little easier at this speech, and the i

“rowd began to wonder what in thunder Judge Lynch was j
Nving at.

Wie

n |, No, sir, this hyer court.don’t ask you to go back on your ‘
t | Word; no, sir, not if she knows herself, and she thinks she 2
7 ©! The court only wants to ask you one question, Mister y
, ayor; when you pledged your word that these hyer two i
y | Men should not be molested if they would surrender, did you i
t | ve the word of Jimmy Hughes, the landlord of the Dry-Up 4

‘otel, or the word of James Hughes, Esquire, Mayor of the
ity of Cinnabar?”

: “Why, as Mayor, of course,” replied Hughes, who couldn’t
| See what on earth Congleton was driving at.

“ And who gaye you authority, Mister Mayor, to pledge the
dith of this hyer City of Cinnabar?”

There was an ominous silence in the crowd as Congleton
thundered forth the question.

Too late, Hughes understood that he had made a blunder ;
ut he made a clumsy attempt to repair his error.

. Why, I thought that in my capacity of Mayor I had the
Neht to give such a pledge.”

“Where in the law of the State of California, or in the law
Of any other State in this hyer Union, will you find sich
Power as you have taken upon yourself, delegated to a
Mayor ?” demanded Congleton, sternly. “ No, sir; it aiu’t in
the statutes—it can’t be did. You have no more authority to
} Pledge these men that they should not be harmed for the |
} times they have committed, than you have to give a fee-sim- |
Dle of Cinnabar Ci y to the Territory of Oregon.”

“Drag ’em out!” yelled a hoarse voice from the crowd, and
the rest took up the cry.

_ Hughes made one last effort.

“But, gentlemen, consider; I pledged my word for their
} Safety! Jf you kill these men their death will lie at my door !”

-4e exclaimed, with outstretched hands.

| , “* Mayor Hughes, you have blundered, innocently no doubt, }
j Wt the law cannot be cheated of her rights,” Congleton re- }
} Dlied. ‘‘ These men will have a fair. trial, although there is
Not the slightest doubt as to their guilt. If you don’t want
Your policemen killed, order them to deliver up those prison-
€rs to us.” + ;
“No, I'll be cursed if I do that!” cried Hughes, who was in

 

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186 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

such arave that tears stood in his eyes. “Thar they al
take ’em if you like; I wash my hands of the hull affair.”
The crowd needed no second bidding, but rushed at one?
tumulinously into the shanty, the door being unbarred by #
men within, who filed quietly out, without attempting to
sist the entrance of Judge Lynch’s men.
Talbot had risen to his feet and stood before Brown, wh?
was sitting upon the floor with his back against the wall.
The superintendent merely outstretched his hands as the
armed men rushed in, just as if they had been a lot of boist@
ous children.
“There is no necessity for any roughness, gentlemen,” T4
bot said, coolly and quietly. “TI shall not attempt to offer ™.
resistance, and as for Mr. Brown here, he is pretty baa’
wounded and is incapable of showing fight. Handle him get
tly, if you please, for even if we are going to die, there is ®
use of causing us unnecessary pain beforehand.” '
The men who had rushed into the shanty expecting to me
resistance, and intending to drag their prisoners out, feet I
if possible, were somewhat astonished at the coolness of the!
reception, and even the roughest and boldest of them fe
abashed. They stopped short and looked at Talbot, as !
they were puzzled as to what sort of a man he really was.
“Tf yon want to bind my wrists, gentlemen, I am ag?
able,” Dick suid, extending bis delicate white hands. “ It
hardly necessary to take that precaution with Mr. Brow},
he is too weak to run, even if he wanted to.”
“ You're a cool sharp, anyway,” one of the miners i
marked, as he bound Talbot’s slender wrists together tight y

CHAPTER XLIX.
JUSTICE—SO CALLED.

Juper Lyncu’s men and the prisoners proceeded to
open air. Two of the men had assisted Brown to rise, ef
supported him between them with considerable rough tend
ness. Talbot walked among his captors more like a lea
than a prisoner. pe

Kentuck and Congleton had consulted together while {
men were in the shanty, and had arranged the programme, ,

The prisoners were placed between a file of men and z
command to march given. A wagon, drawn by a dilapidat 4
looking mule, brought up the rear, and in the wagon W
large coil of rope. po!

Many a giance was cast at the wagon and its contents, “4
no questions were asked. Each-man understood well enou
to what use the rope and wagon would be put.

the
an!

 

Tea

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Trr,

Un
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en
THE TRIAL. 187

| A snort half-mile from the town, a good-sized oak tree
fared its head, a hundred paces from the river.

The oak stood alone; no shrubbery nearer than the hillside,
uundred paces south of the tree. The wall of rock which

‘SXisted at Cinnabar City had here dwindled down to a steep,

€gular hill, completely covered by « dense chaparral.

The procession halted near the tree. The cart was driven
Nder a stout limb that projected from the parent trunk at an
ngle of forty-five degrees. Obedient to instruction from

Kentuck, an agile young fellow climbed the tree, fastened one

| nd of the rope to the projecting branch, and the other end,

ay | Which descended nearly to the wagon, was fastened with a

‘Unning noose.
| Talbot surveyed the preparations with a careless eye; and
| *8 for Brown, the walk had so wearied him that he was fain
| 0 lay on the ground, half-insensible.

Everything being ready for the execution, the court of

udge Lynch convened.

Talbot’s quiet face was a true index to the state of his mind.
To him, court and judge alike were a farce—a ghastly one,
| Perhaps, but still a farce. He knew that his death had been

Yesolved upon, and that sentence had in reality been given
fore the trial commenced.
| “The court will at once proceed to business,” Congleton
“Said, briefly. ‘ Richard Talbot and William Brown, formerly
| Superintendent and foreman of the Cinnabar mine, in the city
} Sf Cinnabar, what have you to say in regard to your crime?
} 40u, Talbot, answer first.”

“Nothing!” replicd Dick, laconically.

‘©The prisoner admits his guilt—”

**No, I don’t!” cried Talbot, sharply.

“T understood you to remark that you had nothing to say

Oneleton exclaimed, sternly.

“Did you put the question guilty or not guilty to me?”

“*That was understood.”

““Of course, it’s all understood!” Talbot said, contemptu-
| Susly, ‘‘and you’re just wasting time with this nonsense.

ou don’t want to try me; you want to hang me; that’s all
fut and dried. Why don’t you go ahead, and not fool about

e matter like a pack of schoolboys.”

Fully conscious as he was of the truth of Talbot’s words,
Yet Congleton wished to preserve the semblance of a fair
trial, Ile was afraid that, even at the last moment, the bold-
: — of the foredoomed man might win some friends to in-
- terfere.

“No,sir, you are wrong; you will have a good fair trial; if

pou are innocent you have nothing to fear from this court.
udge Lynch only troubles the guilty.”

Talbot’s face ciearly showed his disbelief, but he held his
peace. -
; a

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KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

“‘ Now, sir, are you guilty or not guilty 2?”

“J bave not heard any charge made against me, and there-
fore cannot answer,” Talbot replied, coolly.

Congleton began. to lose his temper; the calm insolence of
Talbot, even with the shadow of death banging over him, was
almost too much for ‘‘ Judge Lynch” to bear,

“You are accused of murder!” he exclaimed, sharply and
angrily.

“ Whose murder 2” asked Talbot, in the most placid manne?
possible.

‘©The men who were killed outside the Cinnabar works
yesterday,” said Congleton, angrily.

“© Well, I don’t really know whether I killed anybody of
not,” Dick replied, with an air of deep reflection. ‘‘ In self-
defense, I admit, I did fire at some men approaching my
property with arms in their hands, evidently attacking me fot
no good purpose; in fact, one of. my workmen, Paudeen
O’Rourke, was killed by a shot fired by one of them; but
whether I killed any one or not, it is of course impossible fot
me tosay. But if I did, I was acting strictly in self-defense
and protecting my own property.”

Congleton at once perceived that the quicker he brought
matters to a conclusion the better, for each word that Talbot
spoke lessened the chances of his conviction in the minds 0
the bystanders. So he instantly proceeded to call for the me®
who had witnessed the attacks and the gallant defense of the
stockade.

Phree men, each of whom had lost a friend in the fight
distinctly testified that they saw Talbot and Brown fire from
behind the shelter of the stockade, and saw the men fall mo!
tally wounded by their balls,

Congleton called no more witnesses.

“The crime of murder is proved beyond a shadow of ®
doubt, and these two men are the guilty ones,” Congieto
said, frowningly; ‘and therefore I sentence them to be hanse
by’the neck until they are both dead, and may Heaven have
mercy on their guilty souls.”

Tuibot’s lip curled in contempt; the words were blasphemy
to him.

A long-drawn breath came from the crowd as the sentené
was pronounced, but not one raised a finger in Dick’s bebal
so thoroughly had popular opinion—fickle and uncertain 8
the wind—turned against him.

“ Execute the judgment!” cried Congleton, turning to Ke
tuck.

With a half-smile of triumph upon his face, the sport ayy
proached the two prisoners. Well was it for Kentuck the
Talbot’s hands were bound, or else there would have bee?”
tragedy there under the shadows of the oak not set dow8 q
the programme of Judge Lynch’s court.

nm

 

 

 

 
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HIS LAST WISI. 189

Brown had been assisted to his feet by the two men who
had tuken charge of him.

“Let me die first, old partner,” he said, feebly, extending
his hand and grasping one of Talbot’s palins.

The form of iron-hearted, tiger-limbed Dick Talbot quiv-
fred for a moment as he looked in the honest face of burly
Bill Brown and felt the touch of his trembling fingers. It
Was only for an instant though that he manifested any emo-
Yon, and then again he was the man of ice.

“Tf you will have the kindness to unbind my hands so that
Tean take a last grip of my friend’s paw here,” he said, to the
Suard next him, “ I shall be much obliged to you.”

The man was about to comply, but Kentuck instantly and

ternly forbade it. The wily sport feared to give liberty to

the man he hated, even at the foot of the gallows: Of course
he had no suspicion that Talbot had managed to conceul a
Seven-shooter within his bosom.

Dick bit his lip; all seemed to go against him; not a chance
—not a single loop-hole for an escape. | Many a tight squeeze
hid he had since his entry into this vale of tears, but never in
Us ‘ife had death seemed so near—so certain, as now. And
ts he looked around, the sky seemed bluer, the foliage green-
€r, all nature lovelier than e’er before.

* Good-by, Dick; heaven bless you! you’ve allers bin a true
Dard to me!” Brown marmured, and then acting under a sud-

€n impulse, threw his arms, weak as he was, around Talbot
and strained him to his heart. And as Brown did so, he felt
the pistol concealed in Dick’s bosom. Then at once he under-
Stood why Talbot had requested to be unbound. ~A smile
fame over his pale face; a new-found hope, springing up in

‘is heart, whispered that Talbot would yet escape the im-
Pending danger.

“Never say die!” he whispered; ‘Sand if you do get cleat
don’t forget old Brown who stuck to you to the lust.” Again

€ pressed Dick’s manacled hands within his own broad
Palms, and then, assisted by his attendants, he walked to the
Wagon. The will of the foreman was strong although his
Siens were werk.

He mounted into the wagon and a low wretch, who had
Rao tsered to act as hangman, adjusted the noose around his

eck. >

With the near approach of death, Brown's stren¢th seemed

Increase,

“Hark ye, mates!” he said, in a clear, audible tone that
Teached the ears of every man clustered around the oak,

When I swing at the end of this rope I shall be a murdered

*%n. Iam innocent of anything except striking in self-de

‘se. TPve only got one wish, and that is, that all of you

Nithin the sound of my voice, when your time comes, may be
Je to die with as light a heart as 1'do now. T forgive you,

 

  
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190 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

for you poor, miserable sinners don’t know what you alt
doing.”

Then the old, rough foreman of the mine crossed his haads
piously on his breast, and repeated the Lord’s Prayer so #
Jow voice. Clear and full came the “ Amen” from his lip%
more like the pean of triumph than the last words of 5 col
demned murderer.

‘Now, drive on your mule team,” he said, in a loud, clea
tone, gazing around with calm yet earnest eyes. ‘

ewlhe whip cracked—the wagon started; a body writhed
the air at the end of the rope; a long-drawn breath from the
crowd, and then a sudden hush, and a murdered man swan
from the branches of the oak.

“ Now, Talbot, your turn!” cried Kentuck, unable to col
ceal his joy.

CHAPTERL.
WHAT LOVE CAN DO.

For about fifteen minutes the body of the unfortunalé
foreman swung in the air; then, the doctor examined it, pr
nounced the man dead. The rope was‘cut just above thé
noose, and the body came tumbling down heavily to thé
earth.

Acting under Kentuck’s commands, the remains were de
posited under a low bush by the side of the river.

“The vultures will make short work of him,” the gamblef
observed, contemptuously, as he hastened back to consul!
mate his vengeance.

The wagon was drawn back to its former place, a fres?
noose rigged in the rope, and again the instrument of deal
was ready.

Talbot walked quietly to the cart, and, despite his manacied
hands, climbed into the,wagon without aid. ;

With a calm and serene expression he gazed around hith
taking his last look on earth. ;

The hangman commenced to adjust the noose around 8
neck, but in a very bungling manner.

“How deuced clumsy you are,’ Talbot exclaimed, imp¥
tiently; “undo my hands, and I'll fix the thing myself.”

“Oh, I guess it will do,” the hangman replied, carelessl¥
“ Anyway, I’ll be more careful next time,” he added, with ®
grin.

Then Talbot raised his hands and affected to assist the fe
low in adjusting the rope. : +]

“Pll make it worth a thousand dollars to you if you will
unfasten my hands,” Talbot said, rapidly, and under cover ®
pretending to assist the hangman.

 
HOPE. 191.

  
  
  

“Got the moncy with you?” the fellow asked, delaying
time >y bungling with the rope.
“No; it is concealed in the tunnel up at the Cinnabar mine.
# | * will tell you the exact spot so that you can get it after I am
3, | lead, What difference docs it make to you or the rest of
De them, whether I die with my hands tied or not.”
“That’s so, pard; it’s a bargain,” replied the hangman.
at | The conversation had been carried on in a low tone, and
80 rapidly as to almost escape the notice of the interested
i0 | lookers-on.
| “Tl do it quietly so that the rest won’t know any thing
iS | pox: it,’ the fellow added, feeling in his pocket for his
| *nife.
| Hope once more beat high in Talbot’s bosom. His hands
®nce free, a desperate chance for life remained. Fortune
tad ever favored him, and why not now at this dread moment
_| When, more than ever, he needed her smiles?
Already he was calculating the advantages on the ground.
Ais hands at liberty, ¢ vigorous buffet would settle the hang-
Man, a leap to the ground upon the side of the wagon near-
St to the chaparral, and then, only three or four men were
e tween him and the hill-side. He had seven bullets in the
| tevolver concealed within his bosom, each one worth a life
@ | % the hands of a man so well used as he was to quick, snap-
¢ | Shots. If he could only gain the shelter of the thicket, the
Chances were a hundred to one that he would be enabled to
; fy all pursuit. True, he would be a target for the shots of
Ml the crowd assembled around the gallows from the moment
fF |e leaped from the cart until he had reached the hill-side,
| but he, as well as any man living, knew how little was the
‘hance of the man aimed at being hit by an indiscriminate
Scharge of weapons fired at random. He had seen too
' | Many public affrays, where both the principals escaped un-
: hurt'and the innocent bystanders alone had suffered, and the
| Parties separated by the length or breadth of a room, and
; ptying the contents of two or three revolvers at each
ler,
zi _ hands once free, it was ten to one that he’d make the
Pa YT} e2?
The hangman was fumbling in his pocket for his knife, but»
} °° clumsy was he that Kentuck, who was standing some ten

‘Paces off, had his attention attracted, and approached to see
| What the fellow was about.
| ,“Hello! what’s the matter? why don’t you go ahead?”
’ Rentuck asked, angrily.

“Tt’s played, pard; I can’t do it,” the fellow whispered,
Lurriedly, to Talbot; then he turned to the gambler. “I was
®hly a-feeling fur my handkerchief to blow my nose.”

The crowd received thisexplanation with a guffaw; a hand-
| ‘chief was a long-forgotten luxury to the majority of them,

ds
a

 

 
 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

}

  

192 KENTUCK, THE sPoRT.

“Ourse your nose!” exclaimed Kentuck; “go ahead with
your work and let’s have no more foolin’, Do you s’posé
that we want to wait hyer all day?” j

“All right; Pil fixit up ina jiffy!” and the fellow proceeded
to arrange the noose.

“You had better be careful, or we'll try the consarn om
you!” Kentuck said, threateningly, as he retreated a few
paces.

Talbot’s pale face did not betray the slightest emotion as thé
action of lis mortal enemy destroyed so suddenly the bright
hope which had sprung up in his heart; but he almost dé
spaired; one chance alone remained, and that but an uncel*
tain, wavering one.

A minute more and the hangman announced that all wasi2
reattiness for the execution.

‘*T should like to say a few words to the crowd, if there #8
no objection,” Talbot said, addressing Congleton.

That worthy hesitated for a moment, but when he reflecied
that the noose was around Talbot’s neck and Kentuck wus a
the head of the mule, ready to give the signal to draw thé
cart away from under the doomed man, he saw that there was
no objection to the prisoner’s request, so he nodded his head

“T should like to have my hands unbound for a minulé
while I say what 1 want to,” Talbot remarked.

 

Congleton was half-inclined to grant the request, but catch: -

ing the look upon Kentuck’s face, he understood that thé
gambler considered the measure a dangerous one, so Le con?
tented himself with shaking his head, thus denying the petl
tion.

Talbot’s last hope was gone now; no avenue of escape was
open to him; yet calmly, and with an unshrinking brow, be
confronted the grim King of Terrors.

“Well, if I can’t speak without my hands being bound, f
I don’t care to speak at all,” he said, quietly and calmly.

For the first time the thought flashed across Kentuck’s
mind that Talbot had meditated an escape if he had succeeded
in procuring the removal of the bonds that confined his wrist
and the sport inwardly laughed at his own shrewdness in bat
tline the desperate man.

‘lf you are ready, we are!” Kentuck cried, the satisfactio®
of swelling triumph perceptible in his voice.

“ Go ahead!” Talbot replied, just as cool at this moment of
peril as when, in the gaming-room of the Last Chance, he ba
defied the power of the “ bank,” and succeeded in cutting the
claws of the “ tiger.”

Kentuck raised his arm as asignal for the mule to mov®
on.
Seconds are sometimes of wondrous value in this life, and
the second that intervened between the raising of Kentue
arm and the driver starting the mule attached to the wago™

 

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
 
   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
  
  
 
   

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SAVED, 198

in obedience to that signal, the result of which would be to
tighten the rope around Talbot’s throat and launch him into
‘the other world, was productive of wondrous results.
Scarcely had Kentuck extended bis arm, when from the

 

| Chaparral which lined the hillside:came a flight of barbed In-

ian arrows, followed by the blood-curdling yell of the red

| Sraves.

} Twenty of the unsuspecting miners went down, stricken
‘Near to death, and among the twenty were the hangman in
| the wagon and the driver who stood at the head of the mule.
he mule, too, dropped dead in his tracks, an arrow driven

d ‘fntirely through him.

Taken entirely by surprise by the Indian attack, Judge
yneh, his court‘and lookers-on forgot entirely the prisoner,
| Who stood in the wagon with the rope around his neck.

A scattering, irresolute fire the miners poured in upon their
Concealed foe, each man acting on his own hook. Kentuck
Alone of all the throng remembered the prisoner ; determined

Not to be cheated of lis revenge, he plucked the revolver from
his belt and fired at Talbot; the shot, hastily directed, gave

| Talbot the deliverance he had craved, for it struck the knot

Of the cords that bound his hands and cutit half away. With
& single effort now of his tremendous strength, Talbol forced
the cords apart.

|  Maddened with rage at the result of his shot, Kentuck fired
| ®second.time; the hasty aim wus false, and the ball whistled

armlessly through the aira yard at least away from Tal-
t.
Then, with the quickness so natural to him, Dick drew the

Concealed weapon from his*bosom, and fired at the gambler.

he ball struck the cheek bone, glanced downward and
plowed its fearful way until it passed out, shattering the
aw,

With a terrible groan, Kentuck fell to the ground, his face
bathed in blood. The gambler was evidently past praying for
in this world.

A second flight of arrows from the chaparral followed the

rst, and ten more men were down.

After the first discharge of arrows, some ten or fifteen of
the miners, headed by Joe Bowers, all arrant cowards at

eart, started with a yell for Cinnabar City. They had no
Stomach to encounter the wild, red braves.

Suffering so severely by the fire of the Indians, discouraged
by the flight of their companions, and lacking the firm rein of
@ leader, it was little wonder that the miners gave way and
fled in wild disorder.

_ With loud yells of triumph, the savages came from their
ambush. All the figbting-men of the Shasta tribe were there,
led by their great Heema Nang-a, and with the chief came

 

Yuet-a, the Shasta princess.

   
  
 

  
   
         
     
   
   
  
  
    
   
   
    
  
   
 
   
  
  
 
 
  
      
   
      
   
   
   
     
   

 

 

 

 

 

KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

The Indian girl had saved the man she loved! » | Borther
{ j The retreat of the whites became a rout—a most fearfal | War ras
slaughter. Not until the miners gained the shanties of Cinn® At fir
if bar did they attempt to make a stand against the red foe, af Used to
F not till then did the Indians give up the pursuit and fall Lack | Martin
i te Fi sullenly to their retreat among the rocks. and in
/ \ aa Sixty men Cinnabar City lost in that fearful fight. a ares
| fa ocon
ah . ht Terizzly
| t \ ' —— Who n
nin ' Tess, r
Leh ah The
a i CHAPTER LI. Won h
aad THE DEATH TRAIL. who 1
ne AND with their bloody defeat by the banks of the river, the | Place
i | : men of Cinnabar had not seen the last of the warlike braves Wi
en et of the Shasta tribe. suffer
Lie } re Cinnabar City was surrounded night and day by the hostile valle:
1 iy i ; savages. The expresses were cut off. All communication po
i en a with Yreka was stopped, and for a week, at least, the miners rou;
} } aa had their hands full to prevent the Indians from sacking the and |
i ik town. Clou
The movements of the savages were directed with wonder Tl
ful skill, and the commander seemed to understand the de- equi
fenses of the city most thoroughly. At I
At last, it came to be rumored about that Talbot had not line.
perished in the Indian fight, by the bank of the river, on the H
day of the “hanging match,” as had been generally supposed}; war
but that he was still in the land of the living, and had joined whe
the Indians in their attack on the whites. If this rumor was des}
true, it accounted for the intimate knowledge that the In- Tor
dians seemed to possess of the strong and weak points of Cin- \
nabar City. fell
Two or three of the miners swore that they had recognized his
Dick Talbot, habited as an Indian and his face covered with wa
war-paint, in the leader of a daring band of braves who had col
penetrated to the center of the town one dark night, and See
managed to destroy about one half of the city by means of Wi
fire-brands. pa
Things began to look bad for the young metropolis of the cu
north. Property depreciated. No new men came in, and 0 ch

the old ones, all that could get away did so. ¢

 

 

Cinnabar City at last was ‘‘ clean bu’sted,” to use the for- w
cible language of one of the “ pilgrims,” escaping northward
to Yreka. Pi
! Finally the government took the matter in hand and sent u
a large force into the valley of the Shasta to repress the sav" | b
a iia age incursions and drive the red-men back to their nativé
nia: lairs. 2

Several companies of volunteers were raised, too, along th*
   

ful
nns- 4

he
res

ile
on.

1€

 

THE FINAL STRUGGLE. 195

 

 
 

Northern frontier, and for about eight months a bloody Indian
War raged.

At first the soldiers got decidedly the worst of it, not being
Used to Indian warfare; and being commanded by a military
Martinet, who, whatever his merits might be in the drill-room
And in the fields of civilized war, was utterly out of place
M the mountain region of Northern California, where he had
to contend with a foe as spry as a squirrel and as braveasa
*tizzly; who only attacked in overwhelming numbers, and
Who never defended a position, unless it wasa natural fort-
Tess, rendered almost impregnable by nature.
| Then a different officer took command. Aman who bad
| Won his gradein the swamps of Florida, against the Seminoles;
Who understood that fuss and feathers were utterly out of
Place in an Indian struggle.

Within a month the fortunes of war changed; the Indians
Suffered severely, and finally were driven from the Shasta
Valley and forced to seek refuge in the canyons in the rear of

fount Shasta. The soldiers pressed them close and at last
ought them to bay in the very same spot where Talbot
and Brown had fought Koo-chue, the Hog, and his red Me-

louds.

The red warriors fought desperately, but, outnumbered and
€quipped with inferior weapons, they gradually gave ground.
. last by a desperate charge, the soldiers broke the Indian

ine.

Heema Nang-a and the Shasta queen, together with an agile
Warrior, whose face was strangely painted black and white,
who had by their example encouraged the red-men in their
desperate struggle made one last effort to rally the flying war-
riors.

Vain was the attempt and fearful the cost. Heema Nang-a
fell, pierced by a dozen balls; Yuet-a was stricken down by
his side by the death-dealing bullets, but the panther-like
Warrior, who appeared with Heema Nang-a to share the chief

 

    
 
 

 
 
 

  

 
 

  
 

command, although exposing himself toa hundred dangers,
Seemed to bear a charmed life. Dashing up the rocky defile
With all the swiftness and strength of the mountain goat, he
Paused at the summit to-hurl back a forcible Anglo-S xon
Curse at the victorious troops, then disappeared amid the
chaparral.

It was plainly evident that the supposed Shasta warrior
Was a white man.

Some of the Cinnabar men in the California volunteers who
participated in the fight, swore that, in the parting defiance of
flying brave, they recognized the voice of Dick Tal-

ot.

With the victory in the canyon, ended the Indian struggle;
and then slowly, one by one, settlers straggled again inte the
“Sxasta valley. But there seemed to be a curse upon the spot;

  
   

  
196 KENTUCK, THE SPORT.

nothing thrived. Tt was evident, too, that there was some
one who seemed to have a spite against the settlers-in the city
of Cianabar, The torch of the incendiary fired dwellings by
night, and men were waylaid and shot at by day. Strangers
to the valley were not troubled much; it was chicfly the old
residents who had resided there before the Indian War that
were persecuted.

Allof a sudden, Mr. Hosa Congleton appeared in Cinnabar
City, He had contrived to make himself scarce during the
trouble with the savages. Now he came, accempanied by
some five San Francisco capitalists, whom he had broueht up
to 1he city to inspect the Cinnabar mine, with a view to inter-
est them in working the lode.

The Frisco sharp had become the sole owner of the proper-
ty, having bought up all the stock for a mere song during the
time of the Indian trouble. =

: At Just it seemed likely that he was about to gain the golden
end for which he had toiled so hard.

The capitalists examined the mine and declared themselves
satisfied that it was a good thing.

Congleton retired to rest that night tolerably well pleased
with himself and all the world. He dreamed of nothing but
great heaps of gold, and if a few of the lumps were spotted
with a stain like that from human blood, the wily speculator
gloated over the treasure none the less.

But with the morning light came a change over the spirits
of the plotter. .

Dick Talbot had suddenly appeared and publicly announced
that the Cinnabar mine should not be worked if he had to kill
every man with his own hand that dared to put a tool in it.

After hearing of this threat, and learning a few particulars
relating to Dick-Talbot’s life, the Frisco gentlemen concluded
that there wasn’t as much money in the Cinnabar lode as they
had thought, and they must really request to be excused from
investing any money in it. =

Congleton ground his teeth but said nothing. With the
strangers he departed. But in a month he was back again in
Cinnabar City, and with him he brought ten desperate-looking
men, and in his pocket there was a warrant for the arrest of
one Richard Talbot, and a proclamation signed by the Gover-‘
nor of the State of California, offering five hundred dollars re-
ward for the capture of the murderer, Richard Talbot.

Copies of, the proclamation were widely distributed from
Yreka to Mount Shasta, and soon Congleton got trace of the
man he hated. =

With his bloodhounds he started on the trail. aa

From the canyons north of Shasta he started the outlaw; —
round the base of the mountain he ran him, and up the valley —
of the Pitt they went; then Talbot “doubled” amid the rocky
defiles near the lake, and threw the pursuers off the track. _

 

ei Beat aw
THE SPECULATOR’S FATE, 197

Reluctant to give up the chase, and believing that Talbot
would surely attempt to reach bis old haunts by the peak of
Shasta again, Congleton led his party down the Pitt.

No tracé of the fugitive could he find, and just at the edge
of the Devil’s Canyon, after a long day’s march, Congleton,
utiracted by an antelope, that promiséd an easy shot, wan-
dered away from his men. Following the animal heedlessly,
he became bewildered in the mountains, and it was near sun-
set before he found his way back to the river, and then he
struck the stream a mile or more below the spot where his
party had camped.

Little did the unprincipled speculator dream, as he advanced
to the sparkling waters, that the man he had hunted like a
wild beast was near at hand.

Surprised by the outlaw, brown-bearded, gaunt, and strong
asian enraged lion, Congleton had been bound firmly and
suspended from the tree-trunk overhanging the stream, his
feet just touching the rock beneath, as was related in the pro-
logue to our story.

Night was ushered in by the groans and prayers of the
doomed man, suffering all the torments that the priests of old
predicted for those unfortunate souls whose misdeeds on
exrth condemned them to the power of the Prince of Dark-

ess. ;

The expedition wondered at the absence of their leader,
but did not search for him until the morfing came. They
did not have far to go. The “ obscure” birds pees :
great circles in the air over the body of the speculator afforde
rem an easy clue. :

’ Nor did Shes ae long as to who had pe sae _the
deed and took upon himself to combine judge and exeeution-
erin one. ‘

‘They understood that Congleton had ions - m8 »
sought, but not in the way in which he had hoped m
hin ve

The fight for the Cinnabar mine ee eee
pene Coe Be ae the life of Dick Tal-
their struggle they had blastec .
bot. None tae desperate man, one sentence alone could
cheer his heart:

Woe to the men of Cinnabar!

THE END.