9148
ANCE GILDER [140] was not of a morose nature. The following morning he
ate as hearty a breakfast as ever, and while smoking his morning cigar,
acknowledged to himself that he had fallen in love with the picturesque
scenery of the mountains, rivers, valleys and everything about him
was restful, while an alluring contentment stole into his heart. He
congratulated himself that he was far away from the hot and crowded
metropolis of the Atlantic seaboard. Here, far removed from “the busy
marts of men,” and the restless commotion of commerce and traffic, he
could rest and wait.
The day passed quickly by; the afternoons and evenings usually in the
society of Louise. They were bewildering days in their completeness. The
night claimed the day all too soon when in her society.
He was surprised, after the first shock of disappointment had passed
away, to find how indifferent he was becoming in regard to the loss of
his position on the Banner.
One morning he awakened to a keen sense of incompleteness where
completeness had dwelt. Also around Gold Bluff, he [141] covered a vein
of discontent where contentment had reigned supreme. His love of the
mountains, the rivers, and the picturesque scenery was but a prelude of
promise, thumbing sweetly of the great, unselfish love awakened in him
for Louise.
This unrest dated from a certain evening when Louise first sang for him.
He was quite entranced by the full, rich volume of her contralto voice.
She began by striking the chords in a hesitating way; but presently the
genius of her musical nature seized her with its wonderful power, and
she sang with wild abandon:
‘We seemed to those who saw us meet
The casual friends of every day;
His courtesy was frank and sweet,
My smile was unrestrained and gay.
But yet, if one the other’s name
In some unguarded moment heard,
The heart you thought so free and tame
Would flutter like a frightened bird.”
As she sang Vance gave himself up to the intoxication of the moment. His
soul broke through the barriers and went out to hers, and as the song
died on her lips, and the music ceased with a few reluctant farewell
chords, he knew that a great and tender love had sprung up in his
heart—a love that was not for a day, but for all time.
“Miss Bonifield,” said Vance, with emotion, “you are, indeed, a
constant surprise to me. Your playing is [142] certainly superb, while
your voice; not only soft and musical, but has great range. To hear you
sing fills me with a longing to be a better man.”
“Thank you,” said Louise, “I seldom play or sing excepting for
papa. Your compliment, however, is highly appreciated.”
“As long as I remain in Gold Bluff I hope I will be privileged in
hearing you sing occasionally.”
“We will promise not to ostracize you altogether, Mr. Gilder,” said
Louise, laughingly, “but may I ask how long you expect to remain
with us?” There was just enough hesitation in the question to suggest
interest.
“I do not know,” replied Vance. “I presume you think it is strange
that I have remained as long as I have. To be frank with you, Miss
Bonifield, I have lost my position on the Banner.”
“Lost your position!” said Louise, with unmistakable concern.
“I am indeed sorry,” replied Vance, “whether it is a misfortune or
not. I had an offer to-day to take charge of the Gold Bluff Prospector,
and am thinking seriously of accepting.”
“You quite [143] astonish me,” said Louise, “but I know papa will
be delighted if you conclude to remain permanently in Gold Bluff.”
“Of course,” said Vance thoughtfully, “there is quite a difference
between the New York Banner and the Gold Bluff Prospector—one a
cosmopolitan daily and the other a country newspaper without any special
circulation. It would only be profitable to me as I increased its
circulation and its importance to advertisers. I shall not decide for a
few days. I may [144] receive some explanation from the Banner that will
put a different light upon my dismissal.”
0151
“I have almost made up my mind that I should like to remain in
Gold Bluff,” continued Vance, looking inquiringly at Louise. “My
confidence in Gray Rocks is growing daily, and I believe it is only a
question of a short time until your father’s efforts will be crowned
with success.”
“Mr. Gilder,” replied Louise, feelingly, “I thank you for your
confidence and faith in my father. It seems that nearly every one
disbelieves in his final success. I cannot tell why, yet my faith
is unbounded. Even sister Virgie has lost hope, and at times papa is
greatly discouraged because sister and Aunt Sally talk as they do; but I
am sure in time he will be able to fully prove how mistaken they are in
their judgment.”
As Vance rose to go he took her hand and said “Miss Bonifield, you
certainly are a noble daughter, and your father is pardonable for
wishing to keep you with him in this western country. I am beginning to
understand what a great strength and support you must be to him.”
“Thank you,” replied Louise, “I am sure you overestimate the
assistance I am to my father, but my greatest pride is in doing
something that will add to his comfort, and I am sure papa cannot want
me with him more than I wish to remain.”
Vance had become accustomed to Louise’s frankness of speech, yet he
received a shock that thrilled him with delight when she said, “I
shall be very happy, Mr. Gilder, if you conclude to remain in Gold
Bluff. You have no idea how lonesome I should be if you were to go
away.”
Vance’s heart beat wildly, and something seemed to rise up in
his throat as he attempted to thank her. The expression of his face
evidently betrayed his feelings, for she quickly drew away, and with
a formality that was new to Vance she bowed stiffly and said “Good
night.” After leaving the Bonifield’s home, he followed the road
which led up the mountain side toward Gray Rocks. The moon, large and
round, was just lifting itself above the eastern horizon. He walked on
past the shaft, where the [145] night force of men were busy working
away toward the 400 foot level, and soon found himself near the old
prospect shaft on the Peacock. The valley where the little city of Gold
Bluff nestled was far beneath him. He saw a light glimmering from one
of the windows in the Bonifield home, and interpreted it as a beacon of
hope.
9153
He repeated over and over again Louise’s words relative to his
remaining in Gold Bluff.
“Yes,” said he, “I will remain, no matter what the explanation may
be from the Banner office,” and filled with this decision, he returned
to his hotel.
One evening, about a week after receiving the letter dismissing him from
the Banner force, the mail brought a copy of that great New York paper.
Vance eagerly perused it to see if it contained his last communication.
No, it had been rejected, but in its stead he found an article entitled
“Two Western Towns.” It was a three-column article devoted to Butte
City and Waterville. It referred in the most vindictive manner to the
members of the Waterville Town Company, and classed them as a lot of
town site boomers. It warned eastern people not to be caught and misled
by such wildcat speculations as were offered by them in the great Thief
River Valley.
It said the valley was one immense lava bed, interspersed with
sage brush thickets, alkali swamps and basalt plains. The wonderful
water-power, it claimed, was an absolute myth; and, in fact, the printed
statements in the circulars of these “town boomers” were deliberate
lies. [146] Another thing which eastern investors should bear in mind,
the paper went on to say, was the fact that the property which had been
platted into town lots was still government land. The town company
had no title, and, perhaps, never would have. It branded the whole
enterprise as the most gigantic confidence game that had ever been
perpetrated on an unsuspecting public.
It further said the swindling operations of these irresponsible and
restless town boomers of Waterville were only exceeded in point of
adroitness by the mining operations in and around Butte City, Montana.
The article said the mountain sides at Butte City were perforated with
prospect holes, where hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of dollars of
eastern people’s money had been expended by local managers in riotous
living and debauchery, and claimed that it was a safe estimate to say
that for every thousand dollars put into prospect shafts in and about
Butte City, not more than one dollar had been taken out.
It spoke of the inhabitants of both Butte City and Waterville as
plebians of the lowest sort and condition of life.
The worst cut of all to Vance, however, was the closing paragraph, where
it stated that it was the habit of promoters of these western towns to
bribe indiscriminately correspondents of eastern papers, and that many
were weak enough to fall, which was not only unfortunate for the journal
publishing these flattering falsehoods, but a base injustice to the
eastern investor, who was led captive with his savings into
western “booms” through [147] the machinations of unprincipled
correspondents.
If Vance had been nonplussed on receipt of the assistant’s letter,
he was now stunned. He thought very little about his own investment
in Waterville, but rather, what would his old associates on the Banner
think of him? He regarded the article as a direct thrust at himself and
his integrity.
After waiting a few days and receiving no further communication from
the Banner office, and feeling too much humiliation to write to his city
friends until time had dulled the blow, he concluded to go to Waterville
and see if he could not make arrangements with the Town Company whereby
he could return at once the money invested by his old associates in
Waterville town lots.
The more he thought over the refuting article in the Banner the more
indignant he became. “There is not a manufacturer or other institution
in the east rich enough,” said he to himself, “to stand such
wholesale boycotting as this western country is constantly subjected to
by the eastern press. It is not conservatism; it is downright injustice.
I have not been long in the west, it is true, but my respect for it and
its people is growing. Even Chicago, with all her greatness, energy and
achievements, is belittled by the boycotting press of the east!
“By birth I am a Gothamite, and by education I am an eastern man, but
my patriotism for America and all that is American has never prevented
me from turning up my trousers when there is a heavy fog in London?”