9185
N the [177] excitement incident to Col. Bonifield’s cross-cutting into
the vein, the stage robbery, and the bewildering evenings spent in the
society of Louise, Vance quite forgot about his hopes and fears relative
to his investment in Waterville.
One evening he was out for a walk near the Bonifields’. Louise was
standing on the porch. He lifted his hat, and she waved a dainty little
handkerchief, and came down the road to meet him. There was a troubled
expression on her face which Vance had never seen before. It cut him to
the heart, and he feared some great calamity had befallen her.
“Mr. Gilder,” said she, after the morning salutation, “my father
is very despondent this morning, and while he desires greatly to see
you, yet he is so broken down that I do not know whether he will be able
to see anyone until this afternoon.”
“Why, what has happened?” asked Vance, in alarm. They were walking
along toward the Bonifield residence as they talked.
“So you have not heard?” said Louise, looking up with her big, blue
eyes. Vance looked at her in astonishment. [178] “You have not heard,”
she repeated, “that they have finished cross-cutting?”
“No,” replied Vance.
“Yes, they have finished the work,” repeated Louise, and then almost
broke down in tears. He led her to a seat on the broad porch where the
morning sun shone full and warm, and begged her to calm herself, and
tell him what had happened to her father.
“Is it not quite enough?” said she, looking up at Vance through her
tears, “another disappointment is father’s only reward.”
Vance was shocked, for this disappointment meant a great deal to him.
“Is it possible,” he ejaculated, “and your father was so confident
only the other night!”
“You will not be angry with father?” said Louise, laving her hand on
Vance’s arm.
“Angry,” replied Vance, “no; why should I be? He and I are jointly
interested in results. If they are unfavorable, why, he cannot be more
disappointed than I am. Had he been successful, we would have been equal
partners as well.”
“Thank you,” said Louise, “I pity my poor father so much.” She
dried her eyes a little and then went on: “Aunt Sally was so querulous
with papa last evening when she heard the result, and it made papa very
unhappy; indeed, he did not sleep any during the night, though I have
comforted him as well as I could.”
“And have not slept a wink?” said Vance, looking at her keenly.
“How could I, when papa was so troubled?”
Vance was silent. [179] Presently he spoke: “I will confess I never
was more disappointed in my life. I was so hopeful your father would
be successful. Mind,” he continued, hastily, glancing at Louise, “I
attach no blame to him.”
0187
“Thank you,” she murmured, and Vance went on, “No, I do not blame
him, neither do I blame myself. Hundreds, yes, thousands have pursued
the same course. Some of them have been successful, and others,
ourselves included, have not. I regret that your father should [180]
have spent so many years of his life in that useless prospect shaft.”
“There is hope yet, Mr. Gilder.”
“Hope,” said Vance quickly, “where?”
“The ore,” she continued, “is richer than at the 300 foot
level.”
“And do you believe—?” commenced Vance.
“Do not ask me, please, Mr. Gilder, what I believe at this time. Mr.
Grim was here early this morning and left a proposition with papa. He
has not the heart, he says, to tell you of it, and requested me to do
so. You know, Mr. Grim,” she continued, “is said to be a very good
business man. He has examined the ore found at the 400 foot level, and
says it is much richer than at the 300 foot level. He offers now, if you
and papa will give him a half interest in the mine, to furnish the money
to sink the shaft to the 500 foot level.”
“So,” said Vance, reflectively. Presently he said: “If Rufus Grim
has confidence to go to the 500 foot level, why not your father and
I?”
“But it will cost $6,000, Mr. Gilder, and neither papa nor I could
think of asking you to put any more money into Gray Rocks.”
“I do not think your father should take it to heart so; indeed, I do
not.”
“He does not care for himself, and neither do I care for myself, Mr.
Gilder, but we do care for you.” Vance started and the blood mounted
to his face “You have been so kind to my father and placed such
unbounded confidence in his judgment, and now it seems as if it were
impossible for him ever to [181] repay you, unless—,” she hesitated.
“Unless what?” asked Vance, impatiently.
“Unless you would be willing to join father in giving a half interest
in Gray Rocks to Mr. Grim, and let him go on and develop the mine.”
“What does your father advise? What does he say?”
“He wants to go on to the 500 foot level, Mr. Gilder, and says he will
give his own half interest in Gray Rocks to Mr. Grim rather than let the
work stop at the 400 foot level. Father believes that at the 500 foot
level they will strike ore as rich as any that has been discovered on
the Peacock, and it looks as if Mr. Grim thought the same way, else he
would not be so willing to advance the money.”
“Have you confidence in Mr. Grim?” asked Vance.
“We have always distrusted him,” replied Louise, “but perhaps he
is not so bad and mean as we have thought.”
“And do you think,” asked Vance, “that ore will be discovered at
the 500 foot level?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but I hope so.”
“Would it not be better,” urged Vance, “to give it all up and
leave these wild mountains and return to civilization, so to speak,
where your father could enjoy the remaining years of his life in peace
and contentment?” His words were full of earnestness, and he spoke
with great deliberation.
“If such an opportunity should present itself,” said Louise,
“I know my father would refuse it, for he is so high-spirited, and
moreover, he believes that a little more work, and a little more time
and expense on Gray Rocks, and his prophecy will be fulfilled.”
Vance rose to go, but still lingered near the beautiful [182] girl,
as if she were a balm to his evident disappointment. Finally he said:
“You say it will require $6,000. Now, if you had $6,000, Miss Louise,
and it was every dollar you had in the world, what would you do with
it?”
“I would sink the shaft on Gray Rocks to the 500 foot level,” she
replied quickly. “Shall I tell my father,” she asked, as Vance
started to go, “that you are favorable to Mr. Grim’s proposition?”
“No,” replied Vance, doggedly, “I have no confidence in Rufus
Grim. You may tell your father that I say not to worry any more. With
your permission, I will return in a couple of hours, and will then be
glad to see him.”
Louise seemed ignorant of any knowledge of Vance’s passionate love for
her. Her mind and thoughts were so entirely in sympathy with her father,
whom she loved so dearly and so devotedly. As Vance bade her good-bye,
she took his outstretched hand as if he had been her benefactor, instead
of only her father’s friend.
“Your judgment,” said Vance, “has decided me; we will go on
blasting—down, down, down—through solid rock toward an unknown doom.
How it will end remains to be seen.” Before Louise could make a reply,
he had turned and walked rapidly away toward his hotel.
Looking carefully over his accounts, he found he still had to his
credit, in the Chemical National Bank of New York city, barely $6,000.
He paced the floor for a full half-hour in deep thought. Finally he
paused and said aloud, “she would advance her last dollar to sink the
shaft to the 500 foot level—a weak, little, lovely woman, yet stronger
in her affections and devotion than a regiment of soldiers. Yes, I will
do it; I will gamble my [183] last dollar—for it is nothing better
than a gamble, and yet—well, who knows? We may strike it after all.”
He drew a check for the amount, making it payable to Colonel Ben
Bonifield. Before signing it, he looked at it long and thoughtfully.
“Why do I do this? Is it my faith in Gray Rocks? No. Is it my faith in
Colonel Bonifield? No. Is it my faith in Louise? Yes, a thousand times,
yes.” His hand trembled a little as he signed his name to the check.
It was the last throw of the dice. He felt that he had in a measure
passed his word to Louise. There was a question of daily bread that must
now be solved. The question was immediately ahead of him. He would call
on Colonel Bonifield and then devote himself to the bread question. Yes,
he would solve it.
Strong with resolution, and with a judgment sadly warped because of his
love for Louise, he returned to the Bonifield home. Louise met him at
the door, and he went with her into the spacious parlor, where a wood
fire was burning brightly in the open grate.
“I delivered your message to my father,” she said, “and he has
fallen into a restful sleep.”
“Do not disturb him,” said Vance, “in this envelope is a check for
$6,000. Tell him to start to-morrow morning for the 500 foot level.”
The impulsive Louise took the proffered envelope from Vance with hands
that trembled noticeably, while two great tears dimmed her lustrous blue
eyes. “Why have you done this?” she asked.
It is probable that Vance would then and there have told her why, had
not Colonel Bonifield appeared in the door. “Mr. Gilder,” said he,
“Yo’r presence in my house brings sunshine with it. Yo’ know the
worst. [184] Louise tells me she has informed yo of the unfo’tunate
geological fo’mation to be found at the 400 foot level in Gray
Rocks?”
Louise turned from Vance to her father while he was speaking, and buried
her face on his breast, weeping in stilled sobs. When Colonel Bonifield
asked her why she was weeping, she handed him the envelope, and pillowed
her head deeper on his breast. He opened the envelope and carefully
scanned the check. The old man’s eyes were dimmed with tears of
gratitude.
9192
One arm was about his daughter, and the other he extended toward Vance,
who accepted the proffered hand.
“Suh,” said the Colonel, “Yo’ ovehpoweh me with yo’r
confidence. I have been workin’ away so long on Gray Rocks, suh,
that I can’t blame my friends if they should lose heart. But, suh,
somethin’ keeps a tellin’ me that my effo’ts will yet be rewarded.
Yo’ honor me by sharin’ my confidence in the outcome of Gray Rocks;
yo’ do, indeed, suh. There’s good blood, Mr. Gilder, cou’sin’
through yo’r veins, and there’s a crown awaitin’ yo’ when once
we’ve reached the 500 foot level; yes, suh. I may neveh have mentioned
it to yo’, but I once told yo’r father that if he would stay by Gray
Rocks, it would make him a millionaire. I have forgotten whether I ever
made the obse’vation to yo’ or not, but I wish to assure yo’
at this time, Mr. Gilder, in the presence of Louise, suh, that yo’r
confidence in Gray Rocks is well-founded, and she will make yo’ richer
than all the possessions left yo’ by yo’r worthy father; yes, suh,
much richer.” [185] Louise dried her tears and soon was cheerful as a
mountain thrush that had never known a sorrow. The old Colonel declared
he had never felt better in his life, and that work should be commenced
early the following morning.
On his way back to the hotel, Vance called at the office of the Gold
Bluff Prospector.
“Where is your typo?” asked Vance in the course of the conversation.
“Haven’t got any,” replied the proprietor, “he left this morning
on the stage. We’ll not be able to get out an issue of the paper this
week unless we find someone that can set type. Say,” said he, “why
can’t I sell my printing office to you?”
“I’m not able to buy,” replied Vance.
“Well, I’ll lease it to you.”
“On what terms,” asked Vance.
“I’d lease it to you for one year for half its earnings,” replied
the good-natured proprietor, who never was known to have enough energy
to walk across the street to solicit an advertisement.
“What will it earn in a year?”
“Oh, twelve or fifteen hundred dollars—subscriptions and
advertisements. I own the building. I call this the reception and
editorial room; the other is the composing room, while the one back of
where we are sitting is where the printer usually sleeps.”
In Vance’s college days, he had been one of the trio who had edited
a college paper, set their own type, made up their own forms and
circulated the issue after night, contenting themselves, for a
compensation, with the general wonderment of their fellow-students as
to who were the publishers. He felt that he was capable of acting
as type-setter, as well as writing editorials, on the Gold Bluff
Prospector. He examined the room designated as the sleeping apartment of
the printer, and found it comfortable, yet very plain.
He told the proprietor he thought very favorably of his proposition,
and believed [186] he would accept it. The printing was done on an
old-fashioned hand press, which would require the assistance of a boy
for a couple of hours once a week.
9194
Aside from this, Vance believed he was competent to handle all the
details and labor connected with the paper. Before he retired that
night, arrangements had all been made, the lease drawn and signed, and
Vance commenced operations the next morning as the proprietor of the
Gold Bluff Prospector. He moved his trunk and personal effects into the
shabby back room, to be used in the future as his sleeping apartment.
He settled his hotel bill, and found that he had less than $3.00 in his
pocket on which to begin the struggle for bread.
It was a new experience, not without its novelty and excitement in
anticipation, however. After he had arranged his room quite tidily,
he commenced setting type, and smiled good humoredly to himself as he
thought of the change from the great New York Banner to the Prospector.
Yes, he had made sacrifices; and would he not willingly make any more
to remain near the woman he loved with a love that surpasseth
understanding.