9131
|ANCE [123] had become so thoroughly interested during his first visit
to Waterville, that he was prepared, in a degree, to share in a general
way the enthusiasm of the citizens and the members of the Waterville
Town Company which prevailed after the meeting adjourned.
Buoyant with hope of the future, without hardly understanding why,
and with a blind belief that his investment would yield him a splendid
return, he began to feel that it was indeed a lucky day when the chief
of the Banner sent him to the northwest, and still luckier when he fell
in with the members of the Waterville Town Company.
That afternoon, accompanied by Homer Winthrop, he called on Miss
Virginia Bonifield.
That young lady received her callers with a cultured grace and dignity
that would have done honor to even one who had seen much more of the
world. She was rather tall and a pronounced brunette. Her well poised
head was in keeping with her graceful figure. One could not say she was
strikingly beautiful, but there was some [124] thing in her face as
well as manner that made one forget to desire her different than
the interesting person she was. Both vivacious and intelligent, she
possessed the rare charm, in her conversation, of reflecting the mood of
those about her. Addressing Vance, she said:
“Louise has written me so much about you that I have been quite
impatient to form your acquaintance. I presume that papa is still
working away on Gray Rocks?”
0132
“Yes,” replied Vance, “he will soon reach the 300 foot level.”
[125] “And the old story will be told again, I dare say,” said
Virginia, laughing.
“Miss Virginia is not an enthusiast,” said Winthrop, “in regard to
untold millions that have not yet been discovered in mining shafts.”
“My observations,” retorted Virginia, “have caused me to be less
sentimental, if not more practical, than my good sister Louise.”
“I fear,” said Vance, “you do not share in your father’s belief
in regard to the future of Gray Rocks?”
“I am a Bonifield,” replied Virginia, “and believe implicitly
in my father; and, in my way, love him as tenderly, I dare say, as any
daughter ever loved a parent, but sometimes I fear he is mistaken—but,
to change the subject,” she continued, “how do you like the west?”
“I am very favorably impressed with what I have seen. In the east we
have many brilliants that are not diamonds; in the west we have many
rough ashlars that are diamonds unpolished.”
“Thank you,” replied Virginia, “I consider that a compliment.”
“It is our intention,” said Winthrop, “to claim Mr. Gilder as a
western man before another year; and if Waterville continues to grow, as
we expect it will, we may persuade him to edit our first daily paper.”
Soon after, they rose to go. “I shall hope,” said Miss Virginia,
“that I will be honored by a call from you whenever you are in
Waterville.”
“Thank you,” replied Vance, “it will afford me great pleasure.”
Winthrop remained behind a few moments, while Vance walked up and down
the sidewalk. The sun was [126] well toward the western horizon. A
bluish haze lay against the mountains in the distance. It was an Indian
summer afternoon, full of quiet rest, with a gentle, invigorating
mountain breeze as a constant tonic.
Presently Winthrop joined him, and they hurried down to the depot, for
it was nearing train time, and they had arranged to travel together to
Butte City.
“How are you impressed with Miss Bonifield?” asked Winthrop.
“Quite favorably,” replied Vance. “She is, however, an entirely
different type from her sister, Miss Louise; indeed, I can discover no
family resemblance. Miss Louise is quite fair, while Miss Virginia is a
decided brunette.”
Soon after, the train came in, and they secured comfortable seats in
a Pullman. As the train started, Vance looked out of the window at the
turbulent waters in the river, and asked Winthrop where the foundry, and
sash, blind and door factory would be located.
“We have not decided as yet,” replied Winthrop. “That will be an
easy matter to arrange when the party or parties are ready to commence
building.”
“I presume you are selling a good many lots?” said Vance.
“Well, yes,” replied Winthrop, hesitatingly. “We are interesting
a good many people; and it takes people to build a city. Where a man’s
possessions are, his heart is generally not far away.”
“I should judge from your complimentary remarks about Miss Virginia
Bonifield, and the delightful expression of your face when we
called this afternoon, that your heart abides quite permanently at
Waterville.” [127] Winthrop seemed confused and looked out of the
window. Presently lie said:
“Miss Bonifield is one of the most practical young ladies it has ever
been my good fortune to meet. She is a most exemplary young lady, and
the good people of Waterville hold her in high esteem. This is her
second year in the public school at that place.”
“I judge from her remarks,” said Vance, “that her faith is very
limited in her father’s mine.”
“Yes,” replied ‘Winthrop, “I consider her the most practical
member of the Bonifield family.”
Vance blushed scarlet and turned resentfully in his seat toward
Winthrop. “Ho! ho!” said Winthrop, laughing, “I was merely
expressing my own private opinion. I see, without your saying it, that
your opinion is quite different. How fortunate it is that all men,
especially you and I, Mr. Gilder, are not of the same opinion. This very
difference of opinion,” Winthrop went on, “may, as the months come
and go, weld our friendship more and more firmly.”
Vance saw that he had betrayed his feelings, and good-naturedly observed
that he always was quite partial to blondes. “I presume,” he went
on, “when I become editor of the first daily paper in Waterville, you
will, doubtless, be president of some great banking house.”
“I hope so,” replied Winthrop, thoughtfully. “If many people are
interested in our new town it will help us in more ways than one. They
will ultimately move to Waterville, erect homes, and engage in business;
but we must not be impatient and expect too much for the first year, or
the second, for that matter. ‘Rome was not [128] built in a day.’ I
fully believe,” continued Winthrop, “that parties purchasing lots
at the present prices will receive most excellent returns on their
investments. You see,” continued Winthrop in a confidential way,
“the Waterville Town Company was compelled to go into debt very
heavily at the time it commenced its operations, but by persistent and
continued efforts on the part of various members of the company, we have
greatly reduced the indebtedness, and if the sale of lots continues for
a week longer we will, probably, not owe a dollar.
9136
We will then divide our property, each member receiving a deed for his
respective share.”
Winthrop seemed so happy in anticipation of the joyful time when the
company’ would be out of debt, and was so confidential and frank in
regard to the matter, that Vance, hardly knowing why, found himself
deeply interested in the work of selling lots, and suggested to Winthrop
that he would write to some of the members of the Banner force who were
particular friends of his, and advise them to send on their surplus
earnings for investment.
The town boomer was at once on the alert, and, in not an over-anxious
way, heartily advised the step. Accordingly, that night at the hotel in
Butte City, Vance wrote a letter to his friends advising an investment
in Waterville.
The dramatic critic, the religious editor, the police reporter, and
the heads of the several departments of the Banner at once acted on
Vance’s advice. They knew nothing of the chief’s action in regard
to Vance’s dismissal. They wired Vance, authorizing him to sight
[129] draft them for $2,500, and invest the proceeds in town lots in
Waterville.
He at once complied with the instructions, turned the money over to
Winthrop, and instructed him to forward the deeds to his friends in New
York city.
He was not a little gratified to find his last letter to the Banner
copied in full by the Intermountain Blade and the Butte City Miner, with
editorials referring to the article as particularly able, and to the
writer as having the “courage of his convictions.”
The article had a most salutary effect on Homer Winthrop’s lot selling
enterprise, and during the next few days he sold more Waterville town
lots than his most sanguine expectations had caused him to hope for.
Toward the last of the week Vance left Butte City for Gold Bluff, via
Waterville. He had in his possession additional data and statistics to
support and corroborate his recent letter to the Banner.
At first the west was distasteful to him, but as he became better
acquainted with its customs and habits he began to recognize the true
manhood that is not unfrequently found under the miner’s garb.
There is an uncouth, whole-soul generosity met with on the frontier of
which the effete easterner knows nothing.
Arriving at Waterville the following morning too late for the Gold Bluff
stage, he was compelled to put in another day at Waterville. Remembering
Miss Virginia Bonifield’s invitation, he called on her that evening,
and was most hospitably received. In the course of their conversation
she said:
“I understand, Mr. Gilder, that you are interested with my father in
Gray Rocks I hope you did not mis [130] understand me or my motive when
I spoke discouragingly of my father’s mining prospects.”
“May I ask,” said Vance, “what reason you have for your
pessimistic views, if I may term them such?”
“I presume,” she replied, a little nettled, “they are about as
tangible and equally hard to explain as those of an optimist. I have a
presentiment that father will never find what he is looking for in the
Gray Rocks mine. My sister, Louise, encourages faith in what to me seems
a mad belief.”
“Your sister may be right,” replied Vance.
“My greatest hope,” she replied, “is that I am wrong and that my
sweet sister is right; but I really fear, Mr. Gilder, you will never see
your money again that you have been investing with my father.”
“I cannot doubt your sincerity,” replied Vance, “but I am glad to
have more faith than you have.”
“Why should I have any faith,” she replied. “Have I not seen
my father clinging to that false hope year after year, and every day
resulting in a fresh disappointment? Long ago I made up my mind that
Aunt Sally is about right. She says that father has been planting money
with different prospectors all over the mountains, and none of it has
ever found its way back. She also predicts that father will work away on
Gray Rocks until he dies, and never have his hopes realized. I love
my father tenderly, and feel very sorry for him. A stranger cannot
understand his personal charms and grandeur as one of his family. He is
certainly one of the sweetest characters in the world. His persuasive
powers, as you evidently have reason to know, are very great, and I feel
it my duty to thus warn you for your own protection. Papa is [131] so
sane on everything else excepting Gray Rocks, and is so foolish about
that, notwithstanding his many years of lost labor.”
“If your father has a ‘wheel in his head’ on the subject of Gray
Rocks, I must admit that I, too, have one in mine,” replied Vance.
The blush that overspread Virginia’s face suggested that she felt
keenly the rebuke.
“Pardon me, Mr. Gilder,” said she, “I had forgotten that I am not
‘my brother’s keeper’. I promise never to refer to the subject
again.”
That evening, after Vance had taken leave of Miss Virginia Bonifield, he
experienced a strange unrest and dissatisfaction, and while he did not
admit it to himself, the glamour of his day-dreams had been broken.
8139
Presently, as he walked along, the face of Louise came before him,
and, in a moment, he forgot his unsatisfactory evening; forgot hope’s
broken glamour, and basked again in the alluring belief that the future
held no clouds for him.
It was late when he reached the hotel.
Looking through the window, he saw old Dick Ballard, who was alone in
the barroom entertaining himself with an evening drill.
He carried a long, iron poker at “carry arms,” and was marching back
and forth with military tread. Arriving at the end of the room, he would
call out “Halt! About face! March!”
Vance was very much amused at old Dick Ballard’s pantomime drill,
but finally opened the door and walked in. The transformation scene was
wonderful. Old Dick [132] Ballard was vigorously poking in the stove,
notwithstanding it was a July night.
“Hello, Mr. Gilder,” said he, looking up, “I saw a mighty big rat
run in this stove a minute ago, and I am after it.”
“Better charge your entire militia company on the enemy,” said
Vance, laughing.
“Oh, you saw me, did you,” said Ballard. “I was jes’ drillin’
up a little for dress parade. Well, pardner, I’ll set ‘em up, and
you say nothin’ about it.”
Vance declined to be entertained, but Ballard drank copiously from his
ever ready bottle.
“I tell you, Waterville’s got it and no mistake,” said he, putting
his bottle carefully away.
“Got what,” asked Vance, as he turned to go to his room.
“Got the crack military company of the state,” replied Ballard.
“You ought to see ‘em drill once. There is nothin’ in New York
city or anywhere else can tech one side of ‘em for big money.”