Down the Mother Lode [21]
ought to be. Time to get into our biled shirts for the house warmin', anyway."
"Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but there won't be a house warming. I built it for them and they're gone. It'll stay locked till they come again. This old cabin is good enough for me."
So they left him. Bob relit his pipe and settled back on his bench. Once he roused a moment to mutter. "But they'd ought to know me better. They needn't have run away from their best friend."
Soon after dark a pinto paced home through the quiet, mourning camp with a very weary bulldog at her heels. Beckey slid from her side saddle and crept to Bob's open door. By the light of a full moon she could see the big lax figure in an attitude of utter despair.
"Bob!"
"You! Girl, I thought you'd gone."
"I went because - because I thought you'd come after me. I'd tried everything else that a woman can do to make you understand * * * He's begged me so many times to run off. When he understood, he was beastly. He put me off the horse and told me to walk, then. It was the dog who fought him, and then I ran for Pinto and came back." Her low voice failed her, but she controlled herself, and went on, "I thought if I pretended to go you'd see - "
"See! Girl, you've known ever since you came creeping into Snake Gulch that night that you were the very heart and soul of me."
"Yes, yes," she sobbed, "that is not what I would have you know."
"You mean - no, I am a great fool. No woman could bring herself to - A face like mine! Even if you did, it would be from gratitude. I could not permit such a sacrifice," he finished, with a touch of pride.
The girl waited, then when he was silent she turned with a sob to go to her mother's cabin. The soft footfalls died away. Bob stood motionless. Suddenly a scream rang out on the still night air. Bulldoze scrambled off the door-stone with a snarl of battle-rage and charged for the sound, but he was easily outdistanced by the huge miner, who ran with the lithe grace of an Indian. In an incredibly short time the little form was safe in his arms.
"Oh, there's a terrible animal in the mining ditch. I heard it! It's coming this way! A grizzley, I know!" Bob peered into the ditch.
"Why, girl, it's only drunken old Solly Jake going home holding his jug out of the water. He gets into the ditch so he won't lose the way."
"But how does he know when to get out?"
"Well, when he bangs his head on the overbrace of the first flume, he knows he's home and crawls out." Bob began gently to withdraw his arms.
If you let me go now," she whispered, "I'll wish that it had been a grizzley."
"I must take you home."
'Oh, you have! I am home," clinging to him desperately, "I want no other in the world than this one."
"But my scarred - "
The girl reached up, drawing down his tall, dark head in her arms. She kissed his mutilated cheek, then pressed it tenderly against her soft, bare throat. It did not stay long, as Bob felt that such kisess should be returned without delay.
"Hu-ray," cheered Solly Jake, waving his whisky jug, "tale ended right! Time f'r 'nother drink, boys!" and standing up to his middle in water he proceeded to demonstrate his idea.
Curley Coppers the Jack
VII
"On Selby Flat we live in style; We'll stay right here till we make our pile. We're sure to do it after a while, Then good-bye to Californy!"
-Canfield's "Diary of a Forty-Niner."
The beautiful Casino at Monte Carlo stands in one of the loveliest settings on earth. Facing the blue Mediterranean and enhanced by the exquisitely kept marble villas of Monaco, it may justly be called the acme of gambling institutions. It has become an institution through the years. Time has brought it stability.
Its absolute antithesis were the gambling dens of '49. Built over-night, destined to remain if the mines were rich, and to melt away if they pinched out, the gambling hells were sometimes the veriest makeshifts. Canvas covered, dirt floored, except for the dancing platform, rough red-wood bar and tables; surrounded by all the sordidness
"Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but there won't be a house warming. I built it for them and they're gone. It'll stay locked till they come again. This old cabin is good enough for me."
So they left him. Bob relit his pipe and settled back on his bench. Once he roused a moment to mutter. "But they'd ought to know me better. They needn't have run away from their best friend."
Soon after dark a pinto paced home through the quiet, mourning camp with a very weary bulldog at her heels. Beckey slid from her side saddle and crept to Bob's open door. By the light of a full moon she could see the big lax figure in an attitude of utter despair.
"Bob!"
"You! Girl, I thought you'd gone."
"I went because - because I thought you'd come after me. I'd tried everything else that a woman can do to make you understand * * * He's begged me so many times to run off. When he understood, he was beastly. He put me off the horse and told me to walk, then. It was the dog who fought him, and then I ran for Pinto and came back." Her low voice failed her, but she controlled herself, and went on, "I thought if I pretended to go you'd see - "
"See! Girl, you've known ever since you came creeping into Snake Gulch that night that you were the very heart and soul of me."
"Yes, yes," she sobbed, "that is not what I would have you know."
"You mean - no, I am a great fool. No woman could bring herself to - A face like mine! Even if you did, it would be from gratitude. I could not permit such a sacrifice," he finished, with a touch of pride.
The girl waited, then when he was silent she turned with a sob to go to her mother's cabin. The soft footfalls died away. Bob stood motionless. Suddenly a scream rang out on the still night air. Bulldoze scrambled off the door-stone with a snarl of battle-rage and charged for the sound, but he was easily outdistanced by the huge miner, who ran with the lithe grace of an Indian. In an incredibly short time the little form was safe in his arms.
"Oh, there's a terrible animal in the mining ditch. I heard it! It's coming this way! A grizzley, I know!" Bob peered into the ditch.
"Why, girl, it's only drunken old Solly Jake going home holding his jug out of the water. He gets into the ditch so he won't lose the way."
"But how does he know when to get out?"
"Well, when he bangs his head on the overbrace of the first flume, he knows he's home and crawls out." Bob began gently to withdraw his arms.
If you let me go now," she whispered, "I'll wish that it had been a grizzley."
"I must take you home."
'Oh, you have! I am home," clinging to him desperately, "I want no other in the world than this one."
"But my scarred - "
The girl reached up, drawing down his tall, dark head in her arms. She kissed his mutilated cheek, then pressed it tenderly against her soft, bare throat. It did not stay long, as Bob felt that such kisess should be returned without delay.
"Hu-ray," cheered Solly Jake, waving his whisky jug, "tale ended right! Time f'r 'nother drink, boys!" and standing up to his middle in water he proceeded to demonstrate his idea.
Curley Coppers the Jack
VII
"On Selby Flat we live in style; We'll stay right here till we make our pile. We're sure to do it after a while, Then good-bye to Californy!"
-Canfield's "Diary of a Forty-Niner."
The beautiful Casino at Monte Carlo stands in one of the loveliest settings on earth. Facing the blue Mediterranean and enhanced by the exquisitely kept marble villas of Monaco, it may justly be called the acme of gambling institutions. It has become an institution through the years. Time has brought it stability.
Its absolute antithesis were the gambling dens of '49. Built over-night, destined to remain if the mines were rich, and to melt away if they pinched out, the gambling hells were sometimes the veriest makeshifts. Canvas covered, dirt floored, except for the dancing platform, rough red-wood bar and tables; surrounded by all the sordidness