The Golden Secret
'Good morning, Mr. Howard!' cried Helen gaily. Her cheeks were still
rosy, flushed, thought Howard quickly, less with the flood of the dawn
than with some sudden rush of blood stirred by something that Carr had
been saying. Then as she gave him her hand, inspired by the imp of the
moment, she ran on: 'You should have been here last night! Shouldn't
he, Mr. Carr? Sanchia was here!'
'Mrs. Murray?' demanded Howard, wondering and therefore floundering
into Helen's trap. 'What was she doing here?'
Helen appeared to be in the lightest of spirits this morning. Her
laughter was one of sheer joyousness. Her eyes were dancing as she
retorted:
'Mrs. Murray? Who said Mrs. Murray? I was talking about Sanchia. Mr.
Chuck Evans rode her over last night, asking if we had seen you.'
Howard bit his lip. Carr laughed. Then, seeing the look upon his
friend's face, he grew grave immediately and put out his own hand,
saying merely:
'We wondered what had become of you, Al. And now to have you come in
from that direction--and on foot! What's happened?'
'A side-winder scared my horse into breaking its tie-rope and leaving
me on foot. And I've had enough walking to last me seven incarnations.
Hello, Mr. Longstreet,' as he saw the professor step out of his canvas
house. Howard went forward to meet him, leaving John Carr with Helen.
'Just the man I was wishing to see,' beamed Longstreet, shaking hands
enthusiastically. 'I was on the verge of taking up the matter with
your good friend Carr last night, but something prompted me to wait
until this morning, in hopes you would come. I--I seem to know you
better, somehow.' He lowered his voice confidentially. 'Those two out
there are just a couple of youngsters this morning. You and I will
have to be the serious brains of the occasion.'
Howard glanced over his shoulder. Carr's broad back was turned to him,
Helen's eyes, glancing toward the shack, were sparkling.
'Fire away,' he said colourlessly. 'What's in the wind?'
'First thing--Had breakfast yet?'
Oddly, Howard had no longer any appetite for coffee and bacon, though
he had hungrily swallowed his last bit of dried meat an hour ago.
'Then,' said Longstreet eagerly, 'come in here where we can talk.' And
to Helen he called, 'My dear, I want a few words with Mr. Howard.'
'Oh, we won't disturb you,' Helen laughed back at him. It struck
Howard that she would laugh at anything this morning. 'Mr. Carr and I
were just going up on the cliff for the view.'
Longstreet came in and dropped the flap behind him. Then he stepped to
a shelf and took down a roll of paper which he spread upon the table.
Howard looking at it with lack-lustre eyes saw that it was a sort of
geological chart of the neighbourhood. Longstreet set his finger upon
a point where he had made a cross in red pencil.
'It's there,' he announced triumphantly.
Howard was thinking of the view from the cliff and failed to grasp the
other's meaning.
'What's there?' he asked.
'Gold, man!' cried Longstreet. 'Gold! Didn't I say it was as simple
as A B C to find gold here? Well, I've done it!'
'Oh, gold.' And even yet Howard's interest was not greatly intrigued.
'I see.'
Longstreet stared at him wonderingly. And then, suddenly, Howard came
to earth. Why, the thing, if true, was wonderful, glorious! With all
his heart he hoped it was true; for Longstreet's dear old sake, for
Helen's. He studied the map.
'That would be right over yonder? About half a mile from here? In Dry
Gulch?'
'Precisely. And it has been there since the time Dry Gulch was not dry
but filled with rushing waters. It has been there for any man to find
who was not a fool or blind. It rather looks,' and he chuckled, 'as
though it had been waiting since the Pliocene age for me.'
'You are sure? You haven't just stumbled upon a little pocket----'
Longstreet snorted.
'I am going into the nearest fair-sized town right away,' he said
emphatically, 'to get men and implements to begin a moderate
development. It is a gold mine, my dear young sir--nothing else or
less. Here; look at this.'
It was a handful of bits of quartz, brought up into the light from the
depths of a sagging pocket. The quartz indicated high-grade ore; it
was streaked and pitted with soft yellow gold.
'By the Lord, you've got it!' cried Howard. He wrung Longstreet's hand
warmly. 'Good for you. You've got the thing you came for!'
'One of the things,' Longstreet corrected him with twinkling eyes.
'And the other?'
'Another gold mine! As our young friend Barbee puts it, I'm all loaded
for bear this trip, partner!'
'And you haven't told Miss Helen? Or Carr?'
'Never a word. And for two very excellent reasons: _Imprimis_, they
both were poking fun at me last night; Helen said that I couldn't find
gold if it were in a minted twenty-dollar gold piece in my own pocket.
Now I am having my revenge on them; I'll show them! _Secundo_: Next
week comes Helen's birthday. I am going to give her a little surprise.
A gold mine for a birthday present isn't bad, is it?'
Howard sat down to talk matters over, and since there was still coffee
and some bits of toast left he changed his mind about breakfast and ate
and drank while he listened to Longstreet. The university man had made
certain of the value of his discovery only last evening; it had
happened that Carr was staying over with them and therefore, while he
and Helen chatted about a great deal of nothing at all, Longstreet had
ample time to think matters over. To-day he meant to go into Big Run
and on into the county seat, which he had learned was but a few miles
further on and was a sizable town. There he would take on a small crew
of men and what tools and implements and powder would be needed for
uncovering his ledge and there he would attend to the necessary papers,
the proving up on his claim, matters upon which he was somewhat hazy.
The following day he would return and begin work.
'I've got to go down by the ranch,' Howard told him. 'Then, if you
like, I can go on with you. It is possible I might be of service to
you. At least, I could steer you into the right sort of people.'
Longstreet nodded vigorously. 'That's fine of you. And I won't say it
was not expected. Some day, perhaps, I can repay you for some of your
kindnesses to us. Now, if you are ready, I'll go and call Helen. And,
remember, not a word to them about our business.'
'Miss Helen will go with us?'
'I can hardly leave her out here alone, can I?' smiled Longstreet.
'And Mr. Carr said that he would have to leave this morning. While he
and Helen chat together, you and I can ride on ahead and talk. There
are any number of matters to discuss.'
Howard hastily expressed his approval of the plan, and if his tone
lacked heartiness, Longstreet did not notice.
'We are all going down to Desert Valley ranch,' Longstreet explained
when Helen and Carr came at his calling. 'From there we are going to
ride to Big Run and then on into San Ramon. I want to get some--some
tools and things there, to scratch around with, you know,' he
concluded, beaming with that expression that he wore when he had an ace
in the hole. Helen looked at him with keen suspicious eyes.
'Papa is up to something underhanded,' she announced serenely. 'He
thinks that he can fool me when he pleases and--look at his face! What
is it, father?'
'Never mind,' said Longstreet hastily. 'Just get yourself ready, my
dear. You'll ride with us, Mr. Carr?'
Helen, always ready for a ride, hurried for her hat and gloves; now
from the end of the room, her eyes bright with mischief and hidden from
the men, she called:
'Do come, Mr. Carr. I have to have some one to talk with, you know,
and papa and Mr. Howard never let me slip a word in sideways.'
'She wasn't like this when we rode home in the moonlight the other
night,' thought Howard, considerably puzzled. 'What have I done,
anyway?'
Carr did not give a direct answer. While he cut the end off a fresh
cigar, he suggested:
'How about the horses? Al is on foot.'
'That's easy,' Howard answered. 'Chuck Evans is herding a string up
this way and I can get one of them. Be back while you are getting
ready.' And over his shoulder to Carr, feeling vaguely that in his
heart he had been unreasonable and not quite loyal, 'Better come along,
John.'
From the edge of the tableland he saw Evans down below. The cowboy saw
him and came at his signal.
'So you're back, are you?' said Chuck. 'We'd begun to wonder if you'd
hit the trail for some other where. Special,' he added significantly,
'since it's been published kind of wide and large that you and Jim
Courtot was both packing shooting-irons.'
'I haven't seen Courtot,' Howard told him carelessly, 'and I'm
beginning to believe that he has other calves to brand and has pretty
well forgotten all about me. I'm shy a horse, Chuck. Scare one up for
me to ride back to the ranch, will you?'
By the time Chuck on his own horse had roped a mount for Howard the
little party was ready. They rode down into the valley four abreast
and across the fields to the ranch-house. Helen seemed a new creature
this morning, utterly tantalizing and not a little perverse. Howard
did not know what a proud and independent little person she was, nor
did he know that each day during the week she had expected him to ride
over, and had finally told herself point-blank that it did not matter
the least snap of her fingers whether he ever came or not. Naturally,
she did not know what had kept him away or that he had even wanted to
come. Now that she had heard his remark about a lost horse and a long
walk she was burning with curiosity. But that was another matter
hidden from Alan.
She did remark the big revolver at his hip and when opportunity arose
mentioned it to Carr. Wasn't it rather strange, she wanted to know,
and even somewhat absurd that a man should go about armed like that?
Carr evaded and made a vague remark about a man riding across the Bad
Lands perhaps with money in his pocket. But John Carr was a blunt,
straightforward type of a man, little given to finesse in
circumlocution, and Helen fixed her frank, level gaze upon him and knew
that he was holding back something. Still higher rose her curiosity
about a man whom she did her feminine best to ignore this morning.
Before they came to the ranch-house Helen and her father were riding
ahead, while the two friends dropped further and further back. Carr
listened with keen interest as Alan sketched the happenings of the last
few days. He whistled softly at what he learned of the man on the
trail of Jim Courtot. But he shook his head when Alan predicted that,
soon or late, Kish Taka would kill the gambler.
'It's white man and Indian, Al,' he said. 'The thing always works out
the same way. Jim got one of the two of them, didn't he? Well, he'll
get the other. And what I know of the breed of your friend Kish Taka,
they're a pretty low-lived bunch and there'd be precious little harm
done if they killed each other.'
But Alan shook his head. 'Kish Taka is a pretty deep shade of dark on
the outside, but he's white clean through under the hide of him. And
I've got it clear in my head that he'll never quit on the trail until
he's squared accounts with Courtot.'
'By the way,' said Carr carelessly after a moment, 'the professor seems
all excited about something or other this morning. What's it all
about?'
'What do you mean?' countered Howard.
'Oh, nothing. Only from the way he grabbed on to you I fancied that he
had told you. I thought that if there were anything I could do for
him----'
'No. There's nothing. He did tell me, but he asked me not to say
anything about it. I'll tell you as soon as I can, John. To-night,
maybe, or to-morrow.'
'Oh,' said Carr. 'I didn't mean to stampede in on a secret.' He
turned to other matters and presently they fell silent, jogging along
together, their eyes for the most part upon the girl riding ahead of
them.
'Papa,' Helen was saying at her first opportunity, 'where has Mr.
Howard been?'
'I have no idea, my dear,' said her father placidly.
'What! You mean to tell me that you two have done all the talking you
have, and that he hasn't said a word about where he has been hiding
himself all this week?'
'Not a word.'
'H'm,' said Miss Helen, 'that's funny.' And then, 'Papa, do you know
if he has had trouble with anyone lately?'
'What makes you ask that?' he queried uneasily, and Helen sat
straighter in the saddle and looked him full in the face. For now she
was positive that Alan had had trouble and that her father knew about
it.
Longstreet hesitated. He had no desire to recount his experience at
Moraga's saloon in Big Run. He had judged himself fortunate since the
affair that Helen had been so absorbed in her new environment that she
had not thought to call upon him for an accounting of the family funds.
But even so, all along he had had a sort of fatalistic fear that in the
end she would know everything; she always did.
'Well,' said Helen commandingly, 'tell me all about it.'
'Eh?' He started guiltily. 'About what?'
'About Mr. Howard's trouble with another man.'
Then Longstreet told her what he must. How, while he was with Barbee,
a man named Jim Courtot had joined them. How Howard had happened
along, looking for him, and had said that Jim Courtot was no gentleman.
Ahem!--he had said it very emphatically, very. Longstreet did not
recall the exact terms employed, but their purport was that Courtot was
a crook and a--a man-killer. Courtot had whipped out a revolver,
Howard had hurled himself upon him and had knocked him down. Table and
chairs were overturned, and at first Longstreet thought that Courtot
was dead. He was still unconscious when they left.
'Table?' said Helen. 'And chairs? Where were you? In whose house?
For this didn't happen at the hotel and there was no table in the
store.'
'In the--the house of a man named Moraga, I believe,' Longstreet
answered hurriedly.
Helen looked at him severely.
'A saloon, wasn't it?' she asked, quite as a school teacher may put a
leading question to a squirming little boy. When he did not answer
immediately, Helen did not wait.
'I think,' she informed him judicially, 'that it will be better for you
if I don't lose sight of you in these cattle and mining towns after
this. And it would be a better thing for Mr. Howard if he did not
frequent such places.'
'But you sent him for me!'
Helen merely sniffed at him. She was wondering if Jim Courtot really
were a man-killer? She shuddered. Then she set her brain to work upon
the name--Jim Courtot. It had a familiar ring; certainly she had heard
it before. She and her father rode on in silence. She could hear Alan
and Carr talking together again. Suddenly she remembered. It had been
that afternoon when they went to Big Run. The two men had spoken of
Mrs. Murray, remarking that she was in town. It had been Alan who had
said on the heels of this remark:
'I'll bet you Jim Courtot has turned up again!'
That was it! Sanchia Murray--Jim Courtot. What had the one to do with
the other? Had the enmity of the two men, Howard and Courtot, begun
over Sanchia Murray?
When they came to the ranch-house and Alan was at her side to help her
to the ground, Helen said, 'No, thank you,' quite stiffly and slipped
down unaided.