The Cave of Gold

E >> Everett McNeil >> The Cave of Gold

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"Supposing we wait and see him wash out another pan of dirt," and Thure
turned his flushed face and glowing eyes eagerly to Ham. "I never was so
much interested in anything in my life."

"You shore have got the gold-fever an' got it bad," laughed Ham. "An', I
reckon, you're not th' only boy hereabouts that is a-sufferin' with it,"
and he glanced at Bud's flushed face. "Wal, I'm some interested myself
in seein' how Dickson's luck holds out; so we'll wait tew see the
washin' of another pan."

In less than ten minutes the excited miner was back with another pan
full of the precious dirt, which he at once began to wash, his nervous
excitement being so great that the pan shook and trembled in his hands.
Suddenly, in the midst of his washing, he jumped to his feet with a wild
yell.

"A nugget! A nugget!" and he held aloft in one hand a little chunk of
solid gold, about as large as an egg and nearly of the same shape, only
rougher in outline.

By this time quite a little crowd of miners had gathered around the
lucky man; and handshakes and claps on the shoulders and verbal
congratulations were showered on him from all sides, while the nugget
was passed from hand to hand, with many wise and otherwise comments as
to its weight and probable value and the likelihood of there being
others like it where it came from. In the excitement caused by the
finding of the nugget, the remaining dirt in the pan was forgotten,
until Ham, suddenly remembering, turned to the excited Dickson.

"Better finish cleanin' out th' pan, Dick," he said. "Thar's probably
more gold in it."

"Gosh, if I didn't forget it!" and Dickson grabbed up the pan and began
washing its contents with feverish haste.

In a few minutes he arose and held out the pan, his hands trembling.

"There! Just look there!" he cried, pointing to the glitter of gold in
the black sand that covered the bottom of the pan. "If there isn't a
good fifteen ounces of gold there, then I miss my guess!" and he broke
into a happy laugh. "Well, boys, my luck has turned at last! And there
is a little woman up there in that little log cabin that has got to know
about it at once," and Dickson dropped the pan and started on the run up
the side of the hill toward a little log house that stood in a cluster
of pines halfway up its side, followed by cheers from the miners, who
appeared to be almost as rejoiced over his good fortune, as if it had
been their own.

All this had been very interesting and very exciting to Thure and Bud;
but now that the climax had been passed their thoughts turned at once to
their fathers.

"Now," and Thure caught hold of Ham's coat sleeve, "now that we have
seen how they get the gold from the ground, take us to our dads. We are
more anxious than ever to get to them as quickly as possible."

"I'm pow'ful glad Dickson made that strike," Ham commented, when they
were again on their way. "He's been workin' like a hoss for months,
without hardly gittin' a sight of color; but he's had th' pluck tew keep
a-diggin'. I reckon it's th' Leetle Woman up in th' cabin that's kept
him a-goin'. She's pluck clean through an' has stood right by th' side
of Dick, no matter what sort of luck fate dished out tew him. I shore am
glad Dick has hit it for th' Leetle Woman's sake, as well as his own.
Now, 'bout y'ur dads. That's their house up thar, 'bout a dozen rods
beyond Dickson's. But, I reckon, we won't find none of 'em at home this
time of th' day," and he turned his horses into a rude trail that wound
up the side of the hill toward the little grove of pine trees, in which
the boys could see the little cabin where Dickson lived and beyond that
a larger log house.

During this time Dickson had been speeding up the hill, shouting and
yelling the good news at the top of his voice as he ran. Suddenly the
boys saw the door of the cabin thrown open, and a woman rush out and run
madly down the rough trail toward the miner, her long unconfined hair
streaming out behind her.

"Whoop! I've struck it! Struck it rich, Mollie!" they heard Dickson
yell, while from down the hill rang out cheer after cheer from the
little group of miners now gathered about Dickson's find and watching
the meeting between the lucky man and the "Little Woman," as nearly all
the miners in Hangtown called Mrs. Dickson.

A few minutes later Dickson and the "Little Woman," hand in hand, like
two happy children, ran past them on their way down to the wonderful
find.

Thure and Bud, and even Ham, cheered and yelled as they ran by; and the
woman turned her shining eyes in their direction and waved her free hand
and shouted a welcome to the two boys.

"I shore am glad that Dickson made that strike," Ham again remarked,
with something that looked suspiciously like moisture in his eyes. "He's
a deservin' cuss; an' th' Leetle Woman's ben like a mother tew us all."

CHAPTER XV

AROUND THE SUPPER TABLE

Ham's expectations were fulfilled; for they found the log house vacant,
with a sign on the door that read: "BACK ABOUT SUNDOWN."

"Wal, jest dismount an' unpack an' make y'urselves tew home. We'll git
things all straightened out afore we start out tew hunt up th'
delinquents," and Ham began unpacking his horses.

But Thure and Bud had to have a look inside the house, before they
untied a rope or unbuckled a strap; and, the moment they dismounted,
they rushed to the door and entered.

The house was a very rude affair--just four walls of logs, roughly
fitted with an ax and laid one on top of the other to a height of seven
feet, enclosing a space some twenty-five feet long by eighteen feet
wide, with a bark roof, ground floor, a door cut through the logs in the
middle of one side, and three windows, one in each side and one in the
end opposite the fireplace. The fireplace was very roughly constructed
of stones and sticks, plastered together with a clay-like mud, and with
the chimney built entirely outside of the house.

The furniture was in keeping with the house. The table was the split
halves of a log, cut about ten feet long and laid side by side, with
their flat sides up, supported by four short posts driven into the
ground near the center of the room. The chairs were blocks of wood, set
on end, reenforced by a couple of old boxes and two miners' easy chairs,
a unique production, made by cutting down an empty flour barrel to
something of the shape of an armed easy chair and attaching two rockers
to the bottom. The seats of these chairs were often lined and stuffed in
good shape and had the comfortable feel and rock of the more costly
chairs of civilization--and what more need a miner ask? Along the side
of the room opposite the door ran a double tier of rude bunks, one side
of the beds being supported by posts driven into the ground and the
other by the logs of the wall. On the wall near the fireplace hung the
frying-pans and the other rude cooking utensils; and in a corner were
piled the bags, barrels, kegs, and boxes containing their camp supplies.

When you are told that this, at that time in Hangtown, was considered a
rather luxurious style of living, you may be able to form something of
an idea of the kind of style in which the average miner lived.

"Well, they don't put on much style, do they?" and the eyes Thure turned
to Bud twinkled with excitement and interest.

"Don't they! Just feast your eyes on this!" and Bud, dropping down into
the soft seat of one of the "easy" chairs, leaned back comfortably and
began rocking. "Now, if this isn't style and comfort, then I don't know
what style and comfort are. Better try it," and he winked toward the
other "easy" chair.

Thure at once profited by the suggestion.

"Well, I swun to goodness!" he declared, as he rocked back and forth in
the novel chair, "if this doesn't beat mother's easy rocker for comfort.
I reckon dad will have to make her one, when we get back home," and he
grinned.

"Say," and Ham strode into the house, a bag of flour on one shoulder, a
box of canned stuff under one arm, and a grin all over his face, "if you
yunks think you've come up here tew dew nuthin' but tew set an' rock in
y'ur dads' easy chairs, you've got another think comin' an' comin'
quick. Now, git them packs off th' backs of y'ur hosses an' intew th'
house. This ain't no Home of Cumfort for lazy yunks. Out with you!" and,
dropping the bag of flour and the box in the corner, he started for the
two boys.

Thure and Bud "outed" as fast as their four legs could take them; and
soon were busy getting the packs off their horses and the goods into the
house. When this had been done and the horses had been cared for, the
sun was nearing the tops of the western mountains; and it was decided
not to hunt up the "delinquents," as Ham called them, but to await their
return at the house; and, in the meantime, to prepare such a supper for
them as seldom blessed a miner's eyes and excited his appetite, from the
delicacies Mrs. Conroyal and Mrs. Randolph had sent in the packs of the
boys. Then, in addition, Thure and Bud determined to try and give their
fathers, who, of course, supposed the two boys were still at home with
their mothers and sisters on the rancho, a little surprise. By keeping a
sharp lookout down the trail they could be warned of the coming of the
men in sufficient time to put their surprise in operation.

Accordingly they got everything in readiness, first by tying their
horses out of sight behind a clump of bushes and removing every outward
sign of their presence, and then by drawing the two easy chairs up close
together in front of the door and placing one of the blocks of wood used
as seats in front of each chair. When they saw their fathers coming,
they would take their places in these chairs, lean back comfortably in
them, place their feet at a comfortable angle on top of the blocks of
wood, and, thus sitting cozily in the two easy chairs, be the first
objects to meet their fathers' eyes on entering the house. They fancied
that this unexpected sight might surprise the two men some; and they
were not disappointed.

Fortunately for the success of their "surprise," Mr. Conroyal and Mr.
Randolph led the little procession of miners that appeared a few minutes
after sundown, coming up the trail leading to the log house.

"Here they come!" cried Bud, who was stationed at the window overlooking
the trail, the moment the men appeared in sight. "Hurry, Thure, and get
into your chair."

The two boys quickly seated themselves in the barrel-rockers, perched
their feet comfortably on top of the blocks of wood, leaned back
comfortably into the hollows of their chairs, and fixed their eyes on
the door, their faces shining with excitement.

At last the door was flung open and the big frame of Noel Conroyal,
backed by that of Rad Randolph, appeared in the doorway.

For a moment both men stopped right where they were, and stood staring
in blank astonishment at the faces of the two boys sitting in the two
chairs.

"Walk right in," invited Thure, his eyes dancing.

"Yes, come right in and have supper with us," urged Bud.

For an instant longer the two men stood staring; and then both of them
made a rush for the two boys; and, as they were almost instantly
followed by Dill Conroyal, Thure's older brother, Rex Holt, Thure's
cousin, and Frank Holt, Thure's uncle and the father of Rex Holt, you
can imagine the excitement and confusion that reigned in that log house
and how swiftly the questions flew back and forth for the next few
minutes. The men had been away from their homes and their dear ones for
nearly a year now; and, naturally, were exceedingly anxious to learn
what had been going on during their absence. Suddenly, when the
excitement had quieted down a little, Mr. Conroyal's face clouded and
something that looked very much like a frown gathered on his forehead,
as he turned to Thure.

"But, young man," and the frown on his face deepened, "how comes it that
you are here, against my express commands? I left you at home to care
for your mother and sister and the rancho. Why have you deserted your
trust?"

"Oh, dad," and Thure turned excitedly to his father, "the most wonderful
thing has happened! We found a dying miner, who had been robbed and
stabbed; and he, just before he died, gave us a map that tells us how to
find a Cave of Gold that he had discovered; and mother, our mothers,
thought you ought to know about it; and so we are here, to get you all
to help find this wonderful Cave of Gold. The miner said that the bottom
of the cave was covered with gold nuggets, just covered with them, dad."

"And he gave us one of the nuggets, a whopper!" broke in Bud.

"And your mothers were foolish enough to believe such an improbable tale
and to send you here on such a wildgoose chase!" and something that
began to look very much like anger darkened Mr. Conroyal's face. "Why,
the camp is full of such tales; but no sensible man ever pays any
attention to them."

"But, dad, you haven't heard our story yet; and you haven't seen the map
and the nugget," insisted Thure eagerly. "I am sure you will not blame
us for coming when you know all."

"Well, my son," and Mr. Conroyal's lips tightened grimly, "we'll have a
look at that map and nugget and hear that wonderful story of yours and
then, if it doesn't look as if it might pan out true, back you will
start for home at sun-up to-morrow morning. What do you say, Rad?" and
he turned to Mr. Randolph. "The boys must be made to understand that
they can't desert a trust like that at every wild tale they hear."

"Right," agreed Mr. Randolph. "They start back for home to-morrow
morning, if their tale does not sound reasonable enough to make good
their coming. They were all the men folks left that the women could
depend on; and the reason must be a strong one to justify their
deserting them."

"But, we did not desert them," expostulated Bud. "They gave us
permission to come, told us to come, because they thought you ought to
know about the Cave of Gold and the map, and there was no one else to
send," and Bud's cheeks flushed a little with disappointment and
indignation.

"Wal, now," and the good-natured face of Ham loomed up between the two
boys, "I reckon, if you all will jest take a look at that thar table,
you'll stop y'ur talkin' and git tew eatin' some sudden. 'Tain't once in
a dog's age that a miner in Hangtown can sot down tew a table like
that," and Ham waved both hands proudly in the direction of the
split-log table, on which he had spread out, with lavish hands, the
cakes, pies, jellies, fruits, butter, eggs and the other good things
sent from home, together with the results of his own more substantial
cooking, fried bacon, nicely browned flapjacks, and steaming hot coffee.

"Whoop!" yelled Rex. "Me for the eat!" and, grabbing up one of the
blocks of wood, he made a rush for the table, followed by all present.

That was a jolly supper. The sight of the unaccustomed good things to
eat put everybody in good nature--and no wonder! for their eyes had not
seen an egg or a cake or a pie or a hunk of butter, to say nothing of
the jelly and the fruit, in Hangtown before for six months; and nobody
knows how good these things look and taste, until they have been without
even a smell of them for some months, and living on a steady diet of
salt pork and beans and man-made bread. But, at length, as all good
things will, the eating came to an end; and then, almost involuntarily,
all eyes turned toward Thure and Bud. Their stomachs were filled; and
now all were in the best possible condition to listen to their story.

"Now, for that dead miner's wonderful tale," and Conroyal turned to
Thure.

"Jest wait a minit afore you begin," and Ham arose suddenly from the
table. "We want no outside listeners tew this tale," and, hurrying
outside, he made a hasty circuit of the house, to assure himself that
there were no eavesdroppers. When he came in he remarked, by way of
answer to the inquiring glances turned in his direction: "You will know
why I'm so cautious-like afore th' yunks come tew th' end of their tale;
an', I reckon," and he glanced around the circle of somewhat startled
faces that surrounded the table, "afore they begin, we'd better have it
understood by all that thar is tew be no talkin' outside 'bout this
matter, that it's tew be kept as close as our own skins tew ourselves.
It has already caused th' death of th' old miner, an' mighty nigh th'
death of them yunks thar, as you'll soon larn, an' death is still hot on
th' trail, so it's jest good boss-sense for us tew be cautious-like. We
don't want no more killin's, if we can help it. Now, I reckon, you can
begin y'ur yarn," and, seating himself, he nodded his head to Thure and
Bud.

You may be sure that, after these ominous actions and words of Ham,
there was no lack of interest in the faces now turned toward the two
boys.

Thure began the story; and, helped here and there by Bud and often
interrupted by the angry exclamations of his excited hearers, he told
the remarkable tale, from the killing of _El Feroz_ and the death of the
old miner to their own startling arrest for murder in the streets of
Sacramento City and narrow rescue from the hangman's rope by the
providential coming of Hammer Jones and Colonel Fremont.

"And those two cowardly skunks got away!" almost yelled Conroyal, as he
banged his big fist down on the table, his face white with wrath. "And
after they had almost succeeded in getting two innocent boys hanged for
a crime they committed themselves!"

"They sart'in did," answered Ham grimly. "An' what's more th' cunnin'
devils like as not are still on th' trail of that thar skin map th' old
miner gave th' boys. That's why I reckon we'll need tew be some
cautious."

"But, where is this wonderful skin map and that big gold nugget?" cried
Rex Holt, his eyes shining and his face flushing. "Let us have a look at
them," and he jumped to his feet and leaned across the table, so as to
be nearer to Thure.

"Dill, you and Rex just take a run around the house to see that the
coast is still clear, before the boys show up the gold nugget and the
skin map," and Mr. Conroyal glanced sharply toward the door and the
windows. "As Ham says, we want no eavesdroppers in this case."

Dill and Rex at once sprang to the door; and, moving in opposite
directions, each slowly made the circuit of the house, their keen eyes
searching the surrounding darkness. They neither saw nor heard anything
suspicious.

"Now, we'll have a look at that map and gold nugget," Mr. Conroyal said,
as soon as Rex and Dill had returned and reported the coast clear. "Of
course," and he glanced around the circle of faces, "it is understood
that all that is said and seen here to-night is to be kept secret by
all, whether or not the search for the Cave of Gold is made."

"Yes, yes!" cried Dill impatiently. "We're all in on it together and
must not breathe a word about it to an outsider. We all understand that,
don't we?"

All the heads around the table quickly nodded assent.

"Now, then, let us have that map and gold nugget," and he turned
excitedly to Thure and Bud.

Thure at once thrust his hand under the bosom of his shirt and under his
left shoulder and pulled out the miner's little buckskin bag. Then he
opened the bag and pulled out the map.

"The skin map," he said, and, laying it down on the table, he swiftly
turned the bag upside down and dumped the gold nugget down on top of it.
"And here is the gold nugget."

For a moment no one moved; but all sat staring at the big yellow chunk
of metal, shining ruddily in the light of the flickering candles, as it
dropped from the bag and came to a rest on the skin map and lay there on
the table in front of Thure.

"Gosh, that sart'in looks like th' real stuff!" and the big hand of Ham
reached out and picked up the nugget and hefted it critically. "Solid
gold!" he declared, his eyes shining. "Jest heft it, Con," and he passed
the nugget to Conroyal. "Wal, I reckon you yunks have made good. Now,
let's see what's on that thar piece of skin," and, picking up the map,
he smoothed it out on the table and stared down on it, while as many
heads as possible crowded close to his head and stared down on the map
with him.

"John Stackpole, did anyone here ever hear of a feller by th' name of
John Stackpole?" and Ham raised his head and glanced around.

"I know the man," declared Frank Holt, the father of Rex, whose snowy
white hair gave him a patriarchal appearance. "I remember now. That's
the name the fellow gave I saw in Coleman's store 'bout two weeks ago.
He had a peculiar scar, shaped something like a horseshoe over one of
his eyes."

"That's the man! You remember that queer-shaped scar over one of his
eyes, don't you?" and Bud turned excitedly to Thure.

"Yes," answered Thure. "He must have just got back from the cave. What
was he doing, Uncle Frank?" and he turned eagerly to Mr. Holt.

"Well, he certainly looked as if he had just come out of a cave,"
grinned Holt. "Clothes all in rags and dirty, and hair and beard all
over his head, except his eyes and nose and mouth. But," and his face
lighted up, "he seemed to have plenty of gold-dust; for, while I was
standing there watching him curiously, he picked out a good suit of
clothes and paid for them out of a bag heavy with gold, gold that was
mostly small nuggets.

"'Struck it, pard,' and I saw Coleman's eyes glisten, as he gathered in
them small nuggets, for the gold wasn't no Hangtown gold. Anybody with
eyes could see that.

"'Just a pocket,' answered the man. 'But good and rich, for a pocket.'

"'Whereabouts might it be, if I ain't asking too much?' queried Coleman,
who I could see was some excited over that bag full of little gold
nuggets, as he placed the bundle of clothes down in front of the man.

"'Thank you,' answered the man gruffly, and, picking up the bundle, he
hurried out of the store, considerably to the disappointment of Coleman.

"Now, I calculate, that must have been our man, for he certainly told
Coleman that his name was John Stackpole, when he asked him if any
message had been left there for him. I remember it all plain, because I
got some excited over that bag full of little gold nuggets myself; but I
didn't call to mind the name until Ham called it out."

For many minutes the map and the gold nugget were now passed from hand
to hand and thoroughly examined by all, while the tongues of all wagged
with excited comments and Thure and Bud were often called upon to repeat
parts of their story. But, at length, Noel Conroyal, who had been
elected President of the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company, into
which our good friends, the Conroyals, the Randolphs, the Holts, and
Hammer Jones, had organized themselves, stood up and pounded on the
table with his big fist.

"The Never-Give-Up California Mining Company will come to order," he
said, the moment the talking ceased; "for the purpose of considering the
matter laid before it by Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph and to
determine what action, if any, shall be taken."

"Oh, cut out the big talk, dad, and just let's talk it over together,"
protested Dill a bit impatiently; for, when Mr. Conroyal assumed the
office and the dignities of the President of the Never-Give-Up
California Mining Company, he was apt to be a little formal and
long-winded. "We don't need the formalities and they take up time."

"All right, if that is the wish of the company," agreed Mr. Conroyal
good-naturedly. "I only wanted to get to doing something besides
talking."

"I think," declared Ham, "that, now that we've heer'd th' story an' seen
th' skin map an' th' gold nugget, we'd better sleep on it afore we
decide anything, 'specially seein' that it's gittin' late, an' all on
us, I reckon, are plumb tired; an' tharfore, I move that this here
meetin' be adjourned 'til tew-morrer mornin', an' that all on us be
ordered tew git intew our bunks an' go tew sleep."

Ham's suggestion sounded so sensible, for even the excitement could no
longer keep their tired bodies and brains from calling out for rest and
sleep, that it was adopted at once, with only a few feeble protests;
and, in fifteen minutes from the time it was made the lights were out
and all were in their bunks.

"Say, dad," queried Thure a bit mischievously, as he and Bud crawled
under the blankets of one of the bunks, "do we have to start back for
home at sun-up?"

"No, shut up and go to sleep," growled back Mr. Conroyal.

CHAPTER XVI

UNEXPECTED COMPANY

The next morning everybody at the Headquarters of the Never-Give-Up
California Mining Company was up an hour before the sun flashed its
golden light over the tops of the eastern mountains and down on the log
cabins and tents of Hangtown. All the workers in the mining-camps went
to bed early, tired out with their hard day's work with pick and shovel,
slept soundly, and arose early the next morning to begin another day of
toil. Only the drones--the gamblers, the saloon-keepers, and their
foolish patrons--burned the midnight oil, or, rather in this case, the
midnight candle, for there was little oil to burn in these camps. Hence
it was that when Thure and Bud hurried out of the house to wash their
hands and faces in a near-by spring, they saw that they were far from
being the only early risers, that the smoke was rising from the chimneys
of nearly every log cabin in sight and that in front of nearly every
tent glowed a camp-fire, around which the cooks already could be seen
preparing breakfast.

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