“the office,” quite late one evening, listening to the quaint talk of
my miner friends and marvelling on the quantity of fluid the human body
could lose by way of expectoration and still live, when I was recalled
to a realization of the fact that I was a practitioner of medicine, by
a voice at the hotel door.
“Say, Doc, kin I see y’u a minute?”
Looking up I saw standing in the doorway one of the boys, who was
familiarly known as Toppy, his States’ name being Ike Dexter. Toppy
motioned for me to come out on the porch, and impressed by his gravity
of manner and earnestness of gesticulation, I hastened to comply.
“What is it, Toppy?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “thar’s one uv my friends whut’s bin an’ got hisself
hurt, an’ I want y’u ter come an’ fix him up. He’s a very parti’cler
friend, an’ I’d like ter hev yer do yer best on him. Ye needn’t say
nuthin’ ter the boys about it, jes’ now, Doc.”
“Very well, Toppy, I’ll go with you, but what kind of an accident has
befallen your friend?” I asked.
“Oh, I dunno ez ye could jes’ call it a accident, Doc. It’s jest a
little shootin’ scrape, that’s all, an’ I reckon ye’d better take some
’stracters erlong.”
In accordance with the honest miner’s suggestion I did take some bullet
extractors with me.
“Ye see, Doc,” said Toppy, by way of preparatory explanation of the
case I was about to see, “this yere friend of mine hez bin down in
’Frisco fer a spell, an’ might hev staid thar a good while longer,
only some feller picked a row with him. Thar wuz a duel, an’ duels
ain’t so pop’lar down ’Frisco way ez they useter wuz, ’specially when
somebody gits hurt. A real bad accident happened ter th’ uther feller,
an’ he passed in his checks. Jim--that’s my friend--got a ball in his
thigh, whut stuck thar, and ez he didn’t hev much time to hunt fer a
doctor, he jest come up hyar, whar its kinder quiet like, an’ we thort
we’d hev y’u sorter look arter the thing. Ye see, Jim won’t keer to git
’round much fer a few weeks--not ’till that little accident gits blowed
over”--and Toppy’s eyes gleamed humorously.
My friend led me down to the river bank, and pushing aside a clump of
willows revealed a small, rudely constructed row-boat.
“Ah!” I said, as I took my seat in the somewhat insecure-looking and
cranky little craft, “It is evident that you have taken your friend to
your own cabin.”
Toppy, as I well knew, had the only abode on the opposite bank of
the river, where, high up on the hillside, in full though somewhat
distant view of the little town, he had built a small but neat cabin,
which nestled in the bosom of the hill, looking not unlike a child’s
playhouse as seen from the town proper.
“Yep,” replied the miner, “thar’s whar he is. It aint best ter depen’
too much on pop’larity, ye know, Doc, an’ Jim’ll be a little safer over
thar than in town. Nobody goes ter my place--less’n I invite ’em,” and
Toppy grinned sardonically.
I recalled the fate of a poor devil who did go to his cabin without an
invitation--from Toppy--in the early days of his housekeeping on the
hillside, when a more or less charming little Mexican half-breed damsel
was said to have presided over Toppy’s domestic affairs.
Being averse to the discussion of other people’s family matters, I had
never conversed with my miner friend on that delicate subject. To tell
the truth, there seemed to be very little encouragement for gossip in
Jacksonville--town-talk was too direct a cut to the little collection
of white head-boards that decorated a small plateau just outside the
town. All my information on such subjects, was therefore derived from
more subtle and less dangerous airy rumor.
The river was quite low, and a few vigorous pulls from Toppy’s stalwart
arms brought us to the opposite shore, from which I could see, far up
the hillside, the gleaming white walls of the miner’s rude little home,
where lay my prospective patient.
Toppy was notoriously careless in his personal grooming, but the
little half-breed had evidently inspired a coat of whitewash for the
cabin, that endured longer than the sentiment with which its owner
had inspired that swarthy little traitress. Possibly that gleaming
white cabin was her monument--who knows? The river ran dangerously
and temptingly near, considering how short a time it takes to fall a
few hundred feet down a steep and rocky hillside, and rumor whispered
that Pepita--well, no one knew where she was, and women were not so
plentiful in the Tuolumne valley that hiding was easy.
But the Tuolumne kept its secret well, if secret there was. Its
quick-sands told no tales. They could hide the precious gold of the
river bottom; why not a mouldering skeleton?
On entering Toppy’s cabin, completely winded after my climb up the hill
that constituted his front yard, I found my new patient lying on a cot
in the middle of the room. He turned inquiringly toward the door as
his host and I entered, and what was my amazement to see reflected in
the dim light of the candle with which the cabin was illuminated, the
features of the handsome unknown of the San Francisco gambling-house,
whose adventure with the unfortunate young southerner I have already
related. The recognition was evidently mutual, but I fancied that
my patient looked at me with an expression slightly suggestive of
annoyance.
Toppy’s introduction was laconic, and as characteristic as was he
himself:
“Doc, this is Jim--Jim, this yer’s Doc Weymouth, an’ he’s all right,
y’u bet, ’specially on bullets an’ sich things.”
I was used to California customs, hence the cognomen, “Jim” was
sufficiently comprehensive and perfectly satisfactory to me, and after
the brief introduction that my miner friend gave me, I proceeded to
investigate the case.
As Toppy had already informed me of the circumstances that led to the
reception of my patient’s wound, I made no inquiry in that direction. I
found also, that Toppy was correct as to the location of the injury--as
he had said, the ball had entered his friend’s thigh.
The wound had been inflicted several days before I saw my patient, and
would probably have healed promptly enough if it had not been for the
weary ride he had taken immediately after the shooting---he had come
to Jacksonville on horse back. The result of the necessary movement in
the saddle, together with the hot sun and dust of the roads, had been
to produce considerable inflammation of the injured part. I presume
that nowadays the surgeon would seek for no other cause than germ
infection for such a condition as followed the wound which my patient
had received--but at that time things were different; the various
sources of irritation to which he had been exposed were a reasonable
explanation of the state in which I found his wound.
The wound was merely muscular, neither important vessels nor bone
having been injured, and, much to my gratification, I almost
immediately succeeded in finding and extracting the ball.
[Illustration: “JIM WAS BOUNDING TOWARD THE OPEN DOOR, LEAVING HIS
INSULTER LYING UPON THE FLOOR WITH A CLEAN CUT IN HIS CHEST”]
Jim, as I will now call him, stood my manipulations and the cutting
necessary for the extraction of the bullet without the slightest
indication that such operations were not an every-day experience with
him. This was not without its effect upon Toppy, who looked upon his
heroic friend with all the pride and tenderness imaginable.
When I was first introduced to the wounded man, he had merely nodded
his head in greeting. He did not speak thereafter, until I had finished
dressing the wound, Toppy meanwhile answering all necessary questions.
It seemed to me, also, that my patient rather avoided scrutiny of his
countenance. He either averted his face or shaded it with his hand,
under the pretense that the flickering light of the candle which Toppy
held for me affected his eyes, during the entire time of my surgical
attention.
I gave this circumstance hardly a second thought; nothing seemed more
natural than that my patient should desire to conceal any little
involuntary expression of suffering that might have disturbed his
features during my exceedingly painful manipulations. I was struck,
however, by his conduct as I was preparing to leave.
“Doctor,” he said, “I am very sorry that my old friend, Toppy, insisted
upon calling you to-night. I could have stood the racket till morning,
and your rest was much more important than my worthless existence. I
appreciate your kindness, sir, and wish that I could reciprocate in
some more fitting manner than by mere financial compensation. However
that’s the best I can do now;” saying which, my patient reached beneath
the rude mattress upon which he was lying, drew out a bag of gold, and
without further ceremony handed it to me.
“I wish it might have been more, doctor,” said Jim, “but I came
away from ’Frisco in a deuce of a hurry, and without heeling myself
properly. However, I have divided evenly with you, and I believe such a
rate of compensation is usually considered fair by professional men,”
and he smiled somewhat mischievously, his black eyes twinkling with
humor.
My heart warmed toward my patient, I knew not why. It certainly was
not because of his liberality, for that was common enough in that
rude mining town, where the people were so crude as to believe that a
physician’s services should be liberally compensated. I kept no books
in those days, my patients were so wild and uncivilized that I did not
find it necessary.
“I will see you again to-morrow, sir,” I said, as I nodded in
recognition of the liberal fee that my interesting patient had given
me, and extended my hand to bid him good-morning--for it was then long
past midnight.
“Oh, no,” replied Jim, hastily, “it will probably not be necessary, and
my friend, Toppy, here, who is an exceptionally good nurse, can give me
all the attention I require. Be assured, sir, that you shall be called
in again if anything unfavorable arises. There’s something healing in
the California air. The bullet is out and as I can rest quietly in
Toppy’s cabin, there will be no further trouble, I am sure. I have been
there before, Doctor,” and he smiled grimly.
“Very well then,” I said, “if you insist on assuming the responsibility
of your own case, I suppose I have no right to protest. Remember your
promise, however, and call me at the slightest intimation of trouble.
I will learn how you are, from time to time, through Toppy, and if I
should at any time hear an unfavorable report, I might be discourteous
enough to call without an invitation.”
“I think we understand each other, Doctor,” replied Jim, “and now I
believe I’ll take a nap; sleep has been a scarce commodity with me for
a few days past.”
As I left the cabin I could not rid myself of the impression that
there was something strangely familiar about my patient. My first
acquaintance with him was certainly the night of the affair at the
Palace in San Francisco, and yet, he impressed me differently from what
might have been expected in meeting an entire stranger. I had an ill
defined impression that Jim had been a factor in my life before. But
when, and where? My mind was a blank upon this point, nor was I likely
to become enlightened, considering the lack of encouragement with which
inquiries into the personal histories of the early California citizen
were usually met.
When we arrived at the bank of the river on our return to the town,
Toppy safely secured his little boat to the overhanging willows
and insisted on escorting me back to the hotel. Although this was
unnecessary, I was very glad to have the kind-hearted fellow’s company,
the more especially as I desired to learn something of my new and
interesting patient.
Arriving at the Tuolumne House, I said--“Toppy, you have furnished me
the opportunity of losing my sleep, and I propose to get even. It is
almost daylight, and we may as well make a full night of it. I want
to know more of your friend Jim. I don’t know why, but he greatly
interests me. Not but that I am always interested in my patients, but
my feeling toward your friend is rather a peculiar one. Suppose we
find a quiet seat somewhere and talk a little about him?”
Toppy acquiesced, and having declined the cigar I proffered him, in
favor of a stubby black pipe that he produced and lighted, we seated
ourselves upon an old stump, a little way from the hotel.
“Well, Doc, I don’t s’pose it’s ness’ary fer me ter tell y’u that
Jim’s my best friend. He’s the best I ever hed, since--well, since I
come from the States. I’ve got good reasons fer likin’ him, ez you’ll
obsarve.
“I fust met Jim at Angel’s Camp, about three years ago. I was
prospectin’ round in Calaveras county, an’ used ter make my
headquarters at Angel’s.
“I used ter booze a lot in them days--mor’n I do now, Doc. I guess
my hide was stretchier then, an’ used ter hold more. I was allus a
leetle bit excitable when I was drunk, an’ everlastin’ly gittin’ inter
trouble. That’s how I fell in with Jim.
“I happened to be raisin’ partickler h--l round town one night, an’
drifted inter Ned Griffiths place. I’d been thar lots uv times, an’ ez
everybody in Angel’s knowed me, an’ I was purty poplar, I’d never hed
no trouble, till this night I’m tellin’ y’u about.
“It jest happened that a crowd uv fellers hed come down from Murphy’s
camp ter have a little fun on ther own account, an’ it was jes’ my d--d
luck ter run agin the gang ’bout the time they was beginnin’ ter feel
ther oats purty lively, an’ of course, I hed ter git into a muss with
’em.
“Ez I didn’t hev no friends in the place at the time, an’ folks don’t
mix in other fellers’ rows much in the diggin’s, I was buckin’ agin a
dead tough game. Ez luck’d hev it, I happened ter git mixed up with
the toughest cuss in the crowd--Three Fingered Jack, a feller what’ll
ornyment a tree yit, y’u see if he don’t![B]
[B] And ornament the gallows tree he did, several years later.
Author.
“I got my gun out, all right, but the d--d thing was outer fix, an’ if
it hadn’t been, I was too bilin’ drunk ter hit a cow at three paces.
“Well, Jack jest played with me with his knife, kinder carvin’ me up on
the installment plan, ye know. He’d socked a few purty good sized holes
inter my ole carkiss, an’ was gittin’ ready ter finish up the job in
good shape, when Jim come in an’ took a han’ in the game with his own
little bowie.
“I was too full er booze ter ’preciate the show, but they do say ez how
Jim did a purty neat job. Jack got well arter a while, but he didn’t
act very sosherble with the folks at Angel’s enny more.”
“When I found out how Jim had saved my life, y’u kin bet I didn’t
lose no time a looking him up an’ squarin’ myself. I’d heard er Jim
afore, an’ I knowed he was a gambler by perfession, but he played a
game that night, that made a big winnin’ fer yores trooly, an’ I’ve
jest bin layin’ fer a chance ter do him a good turn ever since. He may
be a gambler, but he plays a squar’ game--an’ poker at that--that’s
why they call him ‘Poker Jim.’ He’s a gentleman born an’ bred, that’s
dead sartin, an’ he’s got more eddication an’ squar’ness than a hull
lot er people whut never gambled in ther lives. When Poker Jim makes a
promise, it’s kept. If he shud borrer a thousan’ dollars uv me--an’ he
could hev it too, if I hed it, you bet! an’ he shud say, ‘Lookee hyar,
Toppy, I’ll give this back to yer nex’ Monday et five o’clock,’ an’
he wasn’t on han’ with the stuff, w’y, then I’d know that suthin had
happened to him. Poker Jim’ll keep enny promise that he makes, if he’s
alive when the time fer squar’in things comes.”
“You have excellent reasons for loyalty to your friend Jim,” I said.
“He certainly deserves your friendship and respect, no matter what his
occupation may be. I have met him before, and under circumstances that
proved him to be a truly noble character. But tell me, Toppy, how does
it happen that you and Jim drifted apart?”
“Well, ye see, Doc, ’twas this way. The folks up at Angel’s got so
virtoous arter a while, that gamblers was too rich fer ’em, an’ they
ordered all the gams ter vamoose. Jim got ketched in the round-up ’long
with the rest, an’ hed ter git out ’twixt the light uv two days. He
couldn’t lick ’em all, less’n they’d come on one at a time, so he jest
played git up an’ git with t’other sports. He went to Frisco ter play
higher stakes than Angel’s Camp could put up, an’ I came down hyar.
Ye see, I wasn’t none too pop’lar, on account er standin’ up fer Jim,
an’ ez I don’t gin’rally fergit ter say my say, I got inter a little
argyment with one uv the prominent citizens uv Angel’s one day. I was
sober on that erkasyun an’, well--I come down ter Jacksonville fer my
health. I writ ter Jim ez soon ez I got hyar, an’ told him whar I was,
an’ ez soon ez he got inter trouble he knowed whar ter find a fren’
whut’ll stan’ by him ez long ez ther’s a shot in ther locker--savvy?”
“Well,” I said, “Poker Jim will soon be able to take care of himself
again, and I hope he will not experience any annoyance from his recent
duelling experience. He certainly is possessed of great courage, and I
should dislike to see his bravery get him into further trouble.”
“Y’u kin jest bet Jim’s got sand! Y’u air all right on that pint, Doc.
Thar ain’t no braver man livin’. D’ye know whut I seed him do one night
up ter Sonora? Well, thar was eight of us fellers went up thar ter a
fandango, an’ Jim went along ter kinder give the thing a little tone,
ye know.
“‘Mericans aint none too pop’lar with the greasers nohow, ’cept with
their women folks, an’ them fellers up thar was jes’ bilin’, when they
seed us come inter ther ole fandango. When we got ter cuttin’ ’em out
with their black eyed senoritas, they was ugly enough ter slit our
throats, en it was jest our blind luck that fin’ly kep’ ’em from doin’
it.
“Jim don’t often drink enny licker, but he was a feelin’ purty good
that night, an’ jest spilin’ fer a row with the d--d greasers. Things
was goin’ too slow fer him, so he takes a piece er chalk, goes out
inter the middle of the hall an’ draws a great big ’Merican eagle on
the floor. Then he pulled his gun an’ called for some d--d greaser ter
step on the bird! We seed he was in for it, an’ gathered ’round him
ready fer the music ter begin. Each side was waitin’ fer t’other ter
open the ball, when the feller what run the hall blowed the lights out.
We grabbed Jim an’ hustled him out, an’ made him take leg bail ’long
with the rest uv us. He wanted ter go back, but we wouldn’t hev it--the
game was jest a little too stiff fer us, y’u bet! Oh, yes, Poker Jim is
dead game, all right.
“An’ now, Doc, I’m goin’ ter tell ye suthin’ on the dead quiet. Jim’s
got a wife an’ child down in Frisco. He married a little Spanish gal
about two years ago, an’ she was a bute, I kin tell ye! They’ve got a
little baby a year ole, an’ Jim’s the proudes’ feller y’u ever seed. Ez
soon ez that Frisco scrape is through with, he’s goin’ ter send fer
his family, an’ I’m goin’ ter quit my cabin an’ let Jim an’ his folks
hev it. My place is kinder outer the way an’ private like, an’ that’ll
jest suit Jim.”
“Well, Toppy,” I said, “I am more interested in your friend than ever,
and I hope that you may soon consummate your plans to domicile him and
his family among us.”
Day was now breaking, and the voice of the devout Dave Smuggins could
be heard ringing through the halls and vibrating the very roof of
the hotel, as he hoarsely shouted his pious appeal to the slumbering
boarders.
Toppy accompanied me to the hotel bar and joined me in an “eye-opener,”
after which he bade me good morning and returned home, while I prepared
to do full justice to Keyse’s immortal flapjacks.
* * * * *
As Toppy had planned, Poker Jim subsequently became a citizen of
Jacksonville. Advices from San Francisco showed the excitement caused
by the duel to be practically over after a few weeks, and, his wound
having healed, my patient quietly installed himself among the sporting
element of our population, resuming the occupation that had earned for
him the sobriquet of “Poker Jim.”
The inhabitants of Jacksonville had often heard of the cool, quiet
gentleman who had called down and cut up Three Fingered Jack. Many
of his fellow townsmen knew him personally. No questions were asked
therefore, when Poker Jim quietly and unostentatiously identified
himself with our thriving town. Nor did the citizens become more
inquisitive, when, a short time afterward, Jim’s family arrived and
took possession of Toppy’s cabin. A few curious looks were bestowed
on Toppy, when it was learned that he had given up his cabin to the
gambler and his family and had taken quarters at the Tuolumne House.
Curiosity being at a discount in our little burg, however, and Toppy
being inclined to keep his own counsel, there was no disposition to
press matters to the point of disturbing his serenity.
The same conservative tendency with which the towns-people regarded
the arrangement between Toppy and his friend Jim, also protected the
family of the latter from intrusion. Jim never alluded to his domestic
affairs, and, as Toppy did all of the necessary chores and errands for
his friend’s family, the personnel of the latter was entirely a matter
of speculation.
Despite the social prejudice which even a mining town entertains
against the professional gambler, however leniently his occupation
may be regarded, Poker Jim became very popular. His squareness and
undisputed courage, associated with his quiet, unobtrusive demeanor and
the never-failing accuracy with which he handled his revolver, gained
for him an esteem which, if it was not respect, had about the same
market value as that sentimental commodity.
Jim’s field of operation was necessarily such that I did not often
come in contact with him. I had endeavored to cultivate him at first,
but he seemed to be decidedly averse to continuing my acquaintance and
even appeared to avoid me, much to my bewilderment. I often wondered
why he should have conducted himself so strangely, and also why his
appearance and ways seemed so familiar. I sometimes wished I might have
the opportunity of conversing with him, but he so persistently avoided
me that I finally gave up all hope of ever learning more about him.
Time passed quickly in Jacksonville, and in the pressure of work that
was forced upon me by numerous cases of rheumatism and other effects
of exposure during the stormy weather of the winter season, I found
plenty to occupy my attention, hence I heard very little of the affairs
of our people at large, for some time. I was therefore quite surprised
one evening to find that my fellow citizens were in a state of rather
pronounced excitement, and, incidentally, greatly concerned about the
moral status of our community.
It seemed that a wave of moral purification had been gradually passing
through the mining region from one town and camp to another and the
fever of moral reaction had finally struck Jacksonville.
At a more or less informal meeting held at the Tuolumne House, at
which Tennessee Dick presided with more enthusiasm than knowledge of
parliamentary law, it was finally decided that the gambling element
of Jacksonville was a superfluous and dangerous quantity in the body
social, and must therefore be removed--and that quickly. With the
gambling fraternity there was included in a sweepingly condemnatory
resolution, certain other unwholesome elements in our primitive social
system--of the feminine persuasion.
It was noticeable that those of our citizens whose losses at the
gambling table were largest and most recent, or whose morals in other
directions were least worthy of commendation, were the noisiest
champions of social reform. As is usually the case with meetings where
the dominant impulse is to pretend a virtue though one has it not, the
party of reform--and noise--carried the day.
The meeting was well timed, for the only man who might have interposed
an objection to the sweeping tone of the final resolution was absent
from town--Toppy had been in Stockton for several weeks. Poor fellow!
He remained in blissful ignorance of the social revolution that menaced
the safety of Poker Jim, until long after it was too late to defend his
friend--in this world at least.