THE COPPER SPECIMENS.
The man sat up on the slab, where, like many other unfortunate
wretches, he had been placed preparatory to a post mortem.
He stared wildly around him, not comprehending the circumstances in
which he was placed.
There was a little of the brandy left in the graduating glass, and
Charlie held it to his lips.
He gripped the boy’s hands with his two great, rough fists, almost
crushing the glass, and eagerly drained the liquor off.
Then he coughed, blinked his eyes, and sliding off the table, stood up.
He would have fallen, for he was as helpless as a scarecrow. But
Charlie caught and supported him.
“Feel better now, do you?” asked the doctor’s son.
“Yes, kinder so; only I feel plaguey weak, and I’m stone cold.”
Charlie assisted him to the only chair in the surgery.
“What’s been the matter with me, and where am I? This is a doctor’s
shop, isn’t it?” he added, looking around and observing the bottles and
instruments.
“You were brought here this morning,” explained Charlie.
“This morning!” exclaimed the man, looking up at the lamp in its
bracket. “And is it night now?”
“That’s what it is.”
“I must have been a long time out of my head, then, youngster,” he
said, with a look of perplexity on his features.
“You were more than that.”
“How’s that?”
“You fell down--to all appearance dead--at the Mugging’s farm, three
miles outside of town, and you were brought here to await an inquest.”
“Fell down dead!” gasped the stranger, with a look of blank dismay.
“That’s right. If you hadn’t come to under the influence of that
battery--which my chum suggested applying to you because you looked so
lifelike--my father would have carved you up in the morning to find out
what caused your death.”
“By the great hornspoon!” cried the man, who had apparently been
snatched from the grave by the experiment of Jack Howard. “I knowed it
would come to this some day. I’m subject to epileptic fits. I’ve always
been afeard I’d be buried alive in one of them.”
“You’ve had a narrow escape,” chipped in Jack, highly pleased at the
success of his galvanic treatment.
“I guess I had,” admitted the man, breathing hard and looking around
him with a fearsome expression. “I’m very grateful to you young chaps
for what you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t mention it,” replied Jack. “We’re mighty glad we were able to
pull you around. If you don’t mind, we should be pleased to know who
you are.”
“My name is Gideon Prawle. I’m a prospector and miner by occupation,
but just at present I guess I ain’t much better’n a tramp. I’m out
of luck, that’s all. But I’ve seen the time when I was worth a cool
hundred thousand. But I spent it in drink, at the gaming table, and I
was robbed of a good bit of it, and that’s the whole story. I’ve been a
blamed fool, but I hope to do better yet afore I die. I know something
that ought to be worth another hundred thousand to me, and when I
realize on it I shan’t forget you young fellows, not by a jugful.”
“You needn’t worry about us,” said Charlie, cheerfully, winking at
Jack, as if it was his opinion the man had wheels in his head. “We
don’t expect to be paid for what we did for you.”
The man saw the wink, and was evidently offended.
“Look here, my lads,” he said gruffly; “you think because I look like a
tramp that I’m a regular hobo--maybe that I’m talking through my hat. I
reckon I kin prove what I say.”
Then he began looking around the room.
“I had a grip with me this morning. Do you know what became of it?”
“I guess that’s it over in the corner,” said Charlie, pointing. “I took
hold of it awhile ago, and I must say it’s precious heavy. What have
you got in it--gold?” he concluded, with a grin.
“Fetch it here and I’ll show you,” said Prawle.
Charlie brought it forward and laid it at the man’s feet.
The stranger started to bend down to undo the straps, but fell back in
the chair with a groan.
“Give me another drink!” he gasped, plaintively, while the perspiration
indicative of physical weakness appeared on his forehead.
Charlie rushed into the shop for more brandy and returned in a moment.
Gideon Prawle gulped it down at a draught, and it brought him instant
relief.
“That’s good stuff, and it warms me innards nicely,” he said, smacking
his lips with a sigh of satisfaction.
“It’s the best in Sackville,” said Charlie. “It’s none of your common
saloon firewater. No, sir; that is kept exclusively for the sick.”
“I believe you,” said the Westerner. “Now, if I might ask you another
favor, it would be in the shape of something to eat. I’m most
famished. Ain’t had a mouthful since yesterday afternoon.”
“Sure thing,” replied Charlie, with alacrity. “I ought to have thought
of that myself. Meyer,” he called, stepping to the surgery door.
The German boy poked his head into the room in fear and trepidation.
“Vat haf you done mit der corpse?” he asked, seeing the slab vacant.
Then, as his eyes roved to the chair, his hair almost stood on end with
fright.
“Mein Gott! Vot is dot?”
“Don’t be a fool, Meyer,” said Charlie impatiently, grabbing him in
time to prevent him making a bolt. “The man was not dead. He was only
in a trance, and we brought him out of it with the battery.”
“So,” replied the German boy, gazing at the stranger in fearful
wonderment, “he been in dose transes under dot sheets der whole
lifelong day, ain’t it? Vot a great dings dose battery vos, I ped you.”
“Go into the house, Meyer, and see what you can pick up in the pantry
in the way of a cold bite. Fetch a jug of milk from the cellar.”
Meyer opened the door leading to the garden and looked out.
The storm had passed over the town by this time and was receding in a
northwesterly direction.
“You’ll find the entry door unlocked, Meyer,” added Charlie. “See that
you don’t make any unnecessary noise.”
“I vill look oud, I ped you,” replied Dinkelspeil. “Off I voke der cook
ub I vouldn’t heard der last off it purty soon I dink.”
Then he vanished into the night.
Gideon Prawle, feeling better after the reaction, began undoing the
straps of his grip.
Then he fumbled in his pocket for the key.
After taking out a somewhat rumpled shirt, a suit of underclothes and a
couple of pair of socks, Prawle said:
“Now, young gents, I’m going to show you some of the finest specimens
of real virgin copper ever dug out of mother earth.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Charlie, a slight shade of disappointment in his voice,
“I thought it was gold or silver quartz you had there. But copper----”
“Young man,” said Prawle, diving one hairy paw into his grip and
fishing out a magnificent specimen of raw copper, “look at that and
hold your breath. There is ninety per cent of copper in that hunk.
Think of that! It has only to be separated from its rocky matrix, when
it is ready for market. That chunk, just as I took it from the mine,
where there are thousands and thousands of tons of it waiting to be dug
out, is almost chemically pure copper. That mine, young gentlemen, is
a marvel. There’s millions in it. Nothing in this country to match it
outside of the great Calumet and Hecla mine of Michigan, which has an
annual production of 50,000,000 pounds.”
Jack Howard examined the specimen with great interest.
“Where is this mine you speak of?”
Gideon Prawle winked one eye expressively and moistened his lips with
his tongue.
“It’s in Montana,” he said, with a significant grin.
“That’s a pretty big State,” said Jack. “Whereabouts in Montana?”
“That’s my secret,” said Prawle, “and I’m going to Chicago to sell it.”
“Then you have really located a valuable copper deposit?” asked Jack
with kindling eyes, for he had a strong enthusiasm for anything
connected with mines and minerals.
“That’s the size of it, young gent. It’s an old, deserted surface
copper mine that was originally worked after a rude fashion by the
Injuns, or some other folks who didn’t know its value. There’s millions
of pounds there waiting for modern methods to bring it up to the light
of day.”
Jack and Charlie looked at the several rich specimens Prawle laid out
for their inspection, and then at one another.
Evidently this tramplike man, whom they had so strangely brought back
to life, had stumbled on to a good thing.
Both of the boys had read stories of similar good things having been
discovered by the merest accident, and the tales had excited their
imagination at the time.
But this was different.
Here was evidence of a thrilling fact, and this prospect of sudden
wealth, as it were, could not fail to have its effect on the two lads.
At this point Meyer made his appearance with an abundant cold repast,
which, being placed before the stranger, he attacked like a famished
wolf.