was an old friend of mine holdin' down a mine out in the hills. I
knew he wouldn't have no company around, and I pined for solitude.
There is a time in the affairs of men, as Shakespeare says, when a
pair of cold feet beats any hands in the deck. Keno Jim said
Shakespeare said so, and Shakespeare's too dead to argue.
"'So I puts on a pair of them long, slidin' snowshoes they call
'skees' and slips for William Pemberton and the lonesome mountains.
People don't call a thing 'skee' unless they hev good reason for
it. Before I caught the hang of them durn disconnected bob-sleds I
saw where the 'skee' come in. The feller that loaned 'em to me
kindly explained that you slid down the hills on 'em, and it was
great sport. When I clumb the first hill and stood perspirin' on
top I felt entitled to a little sport. 'Hooray!' says I, and
pushed loose. It was a long, wide, high hill with trees and things
on it. Some time after I started, say about three seconds, I
thought I'd like to slack a bit and view the scenery. The way I
was travelin' the scenery looked like the spokes of a flywheel. I
left my stummick and my immortal soul about ten rods behind me.
You could play checkers on my coat-tail, as the sayin' is. Man!
And I pushed up a hurricane. It cut my eyes so I cried icicles a
foot long. _Roar-row-roor-s-s-wish_! we went in the open, and
_me-a-arrr_! we ripped through the timber. I crossed a downed log
unexpected and flew thirty foot in the air. Whilst aloft I see a
creek dead ahead of me. There wasn't nothin' to do but jump when I
come to it, so I jumped. I don't care a cuss whether you believe
me or not, dear friends and brothers, but I want to tell you right
now that I cleared the creek with something like one hundred and
eighty feet to spare! At which I took to throwin' summersaults. I
threw one solid quarter-mile of summersaults before that suddent
cravin' was satisfied.
"'Y-a-as,' says I when I picked myself up. 'Well, I reckon I've
done enough of this here skeedaddlin' for one mornin'. So after
that I went along quiet and dignified to William Pemberton's.
"I hit his cabin on Christmas Eve, findin' him very low-spirited.
It seems that he was expectin' an attack from some people anxious
to jump the claims, thereby gettin' the mill standin' on the
property. The feller that hired Billy as watchman promised him
everything and forgot it. Billy was almighty faithful but
hot-tempered'
"'Think of it!' says he to me. 'I gets word two days ago that the
gang is comin' to hop me, and old man Davis ain't even sent me a
rifle, like he agreed. What does he expect? Does he have
illusions that when they come squirtin' lead at me I'm goin' to peg
at 'em with snowballs?'
"Then he laid back, fightin' for breath, and kickin' out with his
legs till I loosened his collar. It was a terrible strain, bein'
watchman of a mill under them conditions, with a disposition like
this. I pitched in to make him feel better. After I'd narrated
some incidents that went to make up livin' with Mrs. Scraggs he
chirped up considerable. 'Well, sir! This _is_ a gay world, ain't
it?' says he. 'I wisht I could offer you something to drown your
sorrers in, Zeke, but unless you happen to have brought along the
makings of a flowing bowl we can't put an end to 'em at this ranch.'
"Well, now, that was sorrerful tidin's. I reckon William took
notice of my face--Christmas Eve, alone on top of a God-forsaken
mountain and not a smell of anything to make the sun rise in our
souls--oh, murder!
"'I feel awful bad about this, Zeke,' says he.
"'Don't mention it,' says I as soon's I could tune my pipes to a
cheerful lie. 'Your presence is sufficient.'
"'But I have an idee,' says he, pushing his finger agin my ribs.
'Don't git excited, Zeke, only to be cast down the harder, but
there's a chance. All last summer we had stockholders'
investigation meetings, and the way old man Davis led 'em to make
investigations through a glass darkly was a sin and a scandal. The
altytood was too altytoodinous for strangers, says old man Davis,
and therefore they must take a drink; and it was too cold and too
hot, too wet and too dry, and if everything else failed it was too
cussed mejium for them to live through it without takin' a drink.
The consequence was that all I remember about a stockholder is that
he's a kind of man with wibbly-wabbly knees and feet that wants to
swap sides, who spends his time hiccupin' up and down the mine
trails, findin' specimens when and where old man Davis wills.'
"William Pemberton smote his forehead with the flat of his
hand--everything took hold of William _so_ vi'lent. 'I give you my
word, Zeke,' says he, 'that them horse-car busters picked hunks of
red serpentine, loaded with gold from the Texas Star, out of our
white quartz ledges that never see gold since Adam played tag, and
believed it was all right--just the same as the gent pulls a rabbit
out of your hat at the show, and you're convinced that rabbit was
there all the time unbeknownst to you. And to think--' he says.
"'Sit down, William, sit down,' says I. 'I don't know what to do
for appleplexy.'
"'Well, I'll sit down to oblige you, Zeke; but to think of them
flappy-footed yawps puttin' away good liquor by the
pailful--pailful?' yells William scornful.
'Barrelful--steam-enjine b'ilerful--
"'Well,' says I hastily, 'you was sayin' you had an idee?'
"'Oh, yes!' says he. 'It don't stand in reason they rounded up
every last bottle, so it occurred to me that if we hunted we might
make discoveries.'
"'Why, so we could!' I hollers loud and hearty, with more notion of
creatin' a diversion, however, than any rank faith in my havin' a
good time off what old man Davis overlooked. 'It'll be like
hide-and-go-seek of a Christmas Eve when we was kids, William.'
"So we scrimmaged round here and there till there was only one
closet in the cabin left.
"'I saved it till the last--it's the most likely,' says William.
'Shine a light on our departing hopes, Ezekiel.'
"He put his hand very careful toward the back. 'E. G. W., says
he,' 'my fingers have teched something cold and smooth, just like a
bottle--pull hard, Ezekiel.'
"I took a long breath and pulled hard.
"'It _is_ round,' says William Pemberton. 'It _is_ a bottle.'
"Nothin' could be heard but the beatin' of our hearts.
"'Is it--is it--_heavy_, William?' I falters. Then you couldn't
hear nothin', for our hearts had cease to beat. He let loose of a
roar same as a lion that's skipped atop of his prey.
'Ezekiel G. W. Scraggs!' he shrieks, 'she's full!'
"'I wish no better luck myself,' says I. 'Trot her out!'
"When the light of the lantern fell upon that bottle we got a
shock. Instead of the cheerin' color that usually fills useful
bottles, the contents of this here one was green--green as grass
off a June hillside.
"'Well!' says William, 'what in--where in--why, it's perfumery!' he
hollers, and raises it for a smash.
"'Hold, William! Hold!' says I. 'It's got red sealin'-wax on the
top. If you break it before we take a sample you and me is the
best of friends parted in the middle, not to mention the
disturbance we'll make in this room.'
"So I took it away from him and looked at it in the candle-light.
Sure enough, there was the inspirin' words on it, 'Liqueur--Creme
de Menthe.' A furreign way of spellin' liquor, to be sure, but
what's a letter or two out of the way, so long as the results is in
sight?
"'William,' says I, 'L-i-q, lick, u-e-u-r, er--licker. Get
glasses, William, and let us be joyful.'
"William mumbled somethin' about green not bein' a joyful color,
but he went and did as I told him.
"That stuff smelt of perpemint, fearful. It was a young ladies'
bevridge if ever I hit one. We sot opposite each other, filled a
tumbler apiece, says, 'Here's how,' and waited. We waited quite
some time.
"'Ezekiel, do you notice anythin'?' says William. Well, to tell
the truth, I hadn't; yet it might only been fancy, so I says,
'Seems to me I _do_, William--nothin' vi'lent, nor musical, nor
humorous--but a kind of a tranquil, preliminary,
what-you-might-call-indication of somethin' to follow.'
"'Huh,' says William, 'let's try another.
"We was careful to load to the brim this time. After five minutes
I says, 'Are you sure you don't notice nothin,' William?' I
observed a risin' color in his face.
"'U-m-m--y-a-as,' says he most sarcastical; 'I notice somethin',
Ezekiel--a strong smell of peppermint--not escaped you, perhaps?
Well, there's just one more swig of green paint goin' to force
itself into the midst of William Pemberton, and if there ain't more
to show for it than the present odor and a sensation 'sif I'd been
turned inside out and exposed to the wintry blasts you'll hear from
me, Ezekiel. I've stood,' says William, 'about all I'm prepared to
stand. The next act will be for me to proceed to get a move on.'
"Knowin' what a powerful disposition he had I most sincerely hoped
our next glass would bring about satisfactory conclusions. I
downed her, but it had got to be all I could do, I felt a freezin'
cold in my vitals, like William had complained of, instead of the
warmth and comfort for which I looked. Y-a-as, I swallered that
glass by main strength, like a snake would a hop-toad--kinder
lengthened myself until I was outside of it.
"'Tick-tick-tick,' remarks William's clock on the wall. When it
had arranged its hands before its mild countenance in such a way as
to inform me that twenty minutes, mountain time, had done all the
elapsin' possible, I slid my anxious gaze on William. He held to
his chair with both hands, and white spots showed in his cheeks,
the way he chawed his teeth together.
"'Ahem,' says I, clearin' my throat, 'Hum--ah, do you--er--do you
no--'
"I got no farther. William leant over and bent his finger double
agin my chest. 'Full well,' says he in a tone of v'ice not loud
but so loaded with meanin' it bumped on his teeth--'full well,
Ezekiel George Washington Scraggs, do I assimerlate what the
results of such a course will be, but if you should persume to ast
me any more if I notice anything I shall at once arise and bat you
in the eye--I am beyond carin' for conserquences.'
"'Now, now, now! What is the use of gettin' so excited? Take a
drink of water--you'll bust your b'iler, foamin' like that,' I says.
"'Water!' says William. 'Ha, ha, ha.' It wasn't no giggle, that
laugh of his. It was one of them blood-curdlers you read about.
"'All right," says he, brisk, 'to oblige you--remember that.' He
turned the dipper upside down, then heaved it through the window.
'Sufferin' Ike'' says he, "I can't even taste it--nothin' but cold,
cold. Went down my gullet like a buckshot down a ten-foot shaft.'
He struggled for air and continued; 'Here am I,' says he, 'William
Pemberton, celebratin' Christmas by dyeing my linin' green and
smellin' like a recess in a country school.' His ventilation give
out again, whilest he worked his face into knots and flew his hands
around. 'You come along with me,' says he, 'and I'll show you a
Christmas celebration.'
"I grabbed him. 'William,' I says, 'your eye is desperate. You
explain to me before you scuff a foot.'
"'Leggo me,' he says; 'I tell you, leggo me, Zeke Scraggs. I'm
goin' to have my revenge. I'm goin' to take ten cases of giant
powder and blow the mill of Honorable John Lawson Davis, Member of
Congress, Champion Double-Jointed, Ground-and-Lofty,
Collar-and-Elbow, Skin and Liar, so high in the air that folks'll
think there's a new comet, predictin' war and trouble.'
"'William,' I says 'you ain't goin' to do no such thing--that's
wicked, that is.' I tried to speak stern, but this here Christmas
hadn't amounted to much so far, and I never had seen a stamp mill
blew up, so I couldn't help wonderin' how it would look.
"'See here!' says he, 'I'll admit many a time you've licked me in a
friendly way, Ezekiel, and I'm obliged to you; but, now, be you, or
ben't you, my guest?'
"'I be,' says I.
"'Then don't let's hear no more out of you,' he says, 'but come
along.'
"'The powder'll be friz,' I hints, still tryin' to switch him off.
"'Not much,' he says. 'She's down a cellar twenty foot deep--come
on.'
"'Just as you say, William,' I remarks--the only thing to do.
"So we toted ten cases of giant to the bottom of the mill, fixed
the cap and fuse careful, touched her off, and walked away from
there.
"Whilest I wouldn't have you think for a minute, dear friends and
brothers, that I uphold any conduct like that, for my part I'm
willin' to admit there's things less exhileratin' than standin' on
a small rise, of a clear, fine, moonlight winter night, waitin' to
see a fifty-stamp mill go off,
"And she went. Let me repeat it: she went. We first ketched a
smack on the soles of our feet, and then that mill flew to a fiery
finish. Jeehoopidderammity! It was simply gorgeous.
"We didn't have time to take it all in, howsomever, for after the
first blast a big, black thing sailed over our heads with the
fearfullest screech that ever scart a man to death.
"'Zeke,' says William, hangin' on to my neck, 'did I hear
somethin', or is it that cussed green ink workin'?'
"'I thought I observed a sound,' says I; 'and whatever it was lit
yonder. Let's go see.
"William hadn't intended to go and see at all. In fact, I dragged
him by the hair and belt the hull distance--not that I was exactly
afraid, but nothin' is so lonesome when you have company.
"There was a hole in a snowbank where whatever it was went in. I
started to paw down, but William was for bunchin' it.
"'I tell you, let it be and hump yourself out'n here,' says he.
'It's after me because I blew up the mill; it's the devil, that's
what it is.'
"'Is it?' says I. 'Well, let's have a look at him. My veins is
full of cream de menthy, and I'll knock his horns off'n him if he
gives me any lip.'
"Just then the snowbank heaved up. It wasn't no devil--that is,
not exactly. It was a lady. I'd a bet on it if I'd had time to
think. I might have known there was no place on top of this
footstool where E. G. W. Scraggs could rest his weary feet without
some female happenin' in the same spot at the same time. I should
have took William's advice, but it was now too late.
"We stood around kinder awk'ard, with her brushin' snow from
herself, till I says, 'Well, good-evenin', ma'am.'
"First off she says good-evenin', too, out of surprise. Then she
begun to talk altogether different. She described William and me
by sections, goin' into particulars, and nobuddy'd loaned us money
on her recommend. I was used to this at home, so I spoke up nice
and silent in our defense. There ain't quite so much noise when
only one is talkin.'
"Finally, when her breath give out, William says very humble,
'Would you mind informin' us, ma'am, how you come to be in these
parts just now?'
"She explained fully that, in answer to an advertisement in the
paper, she was slidin' over to Squaw Creek. The advertisement
called for a wife for a farmer, to be forty years old, or
thereabouts, able to cook, plow, do washing and light blacksmith's
work, and to have a capital of five hundred dollars to invest in
the concern.
"'An' now,' says she, beginning to weep, 'I'd camped in that mill,
an' I was only for steppin' out to git a bit of a stick to cook me
soopper, an' I was on me way back, when a-r-rur-BOOMP! it ses, an'
where's the five hoondred dollars that I left there, I dunno?
Agghh woosha-woosha the day, ye divils, ye! An' me hoopled t'rough
the air like a ol' hat--bad cess to yer ugly faces! The cuss o'
Crom'll lie heavy on ye for mistreatin' a poor, lone widdy woman!'
"'Well, ma'am,' says I, 'I wouldn't take the loss of the money to
heart. When the gentleman sees your face he won't care.' Usually,
you can kinder edge around the rough places with that game of talk.
But it didn't go here.
"'Aggh, g'wan, ye bald-headed ol' pepper-mint lozenger!' she
hollers. 'D'ye s'pose I niwer see a lookin'-glass? Where's the
man'll marry me widout me money? "Me face is me forchune, sor,"
sez she. "Tek it to the gravel bank an' have it cashed, then," sez
he. Where's the man that'll have me, face an' all, lackin' the
coin? Woora, woora, answer me that!'
"Well, as usual, it was up to me. There wasn't no escapin' it. A
man might just as well meet his fate smilin' as trailin' his lip on
the ground, for my experiences teaches, dear friends and brothers,
that Fate just naturally don't care a wooden-legged tinker's dam.
"'Madam,' says I, removin' my hat and bowin', 'the honorable name
of Scraggs is at your disposal.'
"'Eh?' says she. 'What's that you're sayin'?'
"'I repeat, plainly and sadly, ma'am, that one-fourteenth of my
heart and hands is at your disposal.'
"'Heh?' says she again. 'An' what's the one-foorteeneth mane?'
"'I have now,' I replies, 'thirteen wives--'Before I could get
another word out she was ra'rin.'
"'Oh!' she yells, 'ye villyan! Ye long-legged blaggard! Ye
hairless ol' scoundrel of the world! How dast ye?' She begun
lookin' around for a club, so I talked fast.
"'It's my religion, ma'am,' says I. 'I'm a Mormon by profession,
mixed with accident. Think a minute before you do somethin'
that'll cause general regret.'
"'Well,' she says, calmin' down, 'is there e'er an Oirish leddy in
the lot?'
"'Not one, up till this joyful present,' I answers. 'I don't
rightly know what country they hail from, but I can truthfully add
that I'm not thinkin' of takin' up homestead rights there.'
"'Aggh, g'long wid yer jokin',' says she, as kittenish as anything.
'Yer only foolin', ye are.' "'Ma'am,' says I, 'if you say the word
I shall at once proceed to get my fiery, untamed skees and go
gallopin' over the mountains to make you the fourteenth Mrs.
Scraggs with all speed and celery possible. You have only to speak
to turn this dreadful uncertainty into a horrible fact. I pay for
what I break; that's me, Jo Bush.'
"'Well, ain't this suddent!' she says. 'But I'll not stop ye from
yer intentions--men is that set in their ways! Run along, now,
loike a good choild!'
"'Well, good-by, William!' I says when we started, 'You see how it
is yourself!"
"He cried on my coat collar. I honest believe that grass-juice had
a jump or two in it, so darned insijous a man wouldn't notice.
"'To think it was me brought this on,' he hollers. 'Me an' my
revengeful nature! You try to forgive me, Ezekiel. And we
everlastingly did wind up that mill, anyhow!'
"'William,' says I, 'take no heed. No man is above what happens to
him, unless like he'd been atop of the mill when she dispersed. I
forgive you--good-by.'"
Mr. Scraggs puffed his pipe thoughtfully. "Thirteen," he
ruminated, and shook his head. "Tell me not them mournful numbers."
"But," interrupted Charley, "I don't see as you was any worse off
than before?"
"Me?" replied Mr. Scraggs in surprise. "Me? No, _I_ wasn't any
worse off. But, as I said before, inquire of the snake.
"Mrs. Mehitabel Thirteenth Scraggs opened up on me a few mornings
after that, and my latest acquisition instantly laid hold of her by
the hair of her head and beat her with a fryin'-pan till Number
Thirteen had to take to her feet and stay that way for a week.
"'You _will_ talk to my ol' man like that, will _you_?' says
Bridget. 'Well, mind you this, now! If he nades batin' _I'll_
bate him, but fur anny skimpy, yaller critter like yerself to so
much as give him a sassy look I'll construe as a mortial offense.
Run along, now, run along, and git him his breakfas', or I'll
strangle ye with me foot!'
[Illustration: "You _will_ talk to my ol' man like that, will
_you_?"]
"No," said Mr. Scraggs, sadly. "I wasn't no worse off. If so it
hadn't 'a' been Bridget took a drop too much at the drug-store one
night, and another drop too much over the edge of the canon on the
way home, I reckon I'd had some good out of life. But it wasn't to
be, it wasn't to be. Drowned in the bud by the inflooence of that
cussed unlucky number, thirteen."
VI
MR. SCRAGGS INTERVENES
"There was a man," said Mr. Scraggs, "who said, 'Deliver me from my
friends.' Now, I ain't goin' so far as to say I indorse that
statement, nor I ain't standin' still so strong as to say I don't.
But I know this: An enemy will do something for you every time,
whilest most friends won't, and, moreover, I ain't ever had any
enemy who furnished me with as much light entertainment as my
friend Pete.
"I am speakin' from this here point of view. The real joyousness
of life consists of being busy. We won't take no vote on the
subjeck; we'll just admit it. Hence an enemy, that is an enemy,
when you be in good health and able for to look after the enemy
part from your side, is a great source of innercent amusement. A
man gets so durn practical, he don't take no interest in all the
pleasant rocks and bushes strewed over the country by the
beneficent hand of Providence. He shacks along on his little old
cayuse, with his mind occupied on how many things he can't do next,
and he gits plumb disgusted. But suppose there's a chance of an
able-bodied enemy, aided and abetted with a gun, a-hidin' behind
each and every one of them rocks and bushes? Don't life take on an
interest? I bet you money! The imaginations of that man's mind
gets started up. Life becomes full of chances. The man, he's
interested in his life because the other feller wants to take it
away from him. A good enemy in a lonesome country means more to
that man than her best friend's widower means to a maiden aunt.
You bet.
"Red and me differs there, I know, but his idees gets sifted
through that crop of red alfalfa he wears, whilest I present a
clean proposition to any idee that comes boundin' o'er the lee, or
to wind'ard, or any direction she chooses to bound. Yessir; when I
begin to feel that life ain't worth livin' give me an enemy or a
friend like Pete Douglass.
"It ain't for me to poke no fun at Pete's looks. There's a place
where a humarious turn of mind orter stop. Pete's looks was too
serious for any man to get comic about. It appeared as if his
features had been blowed on to his face by a gale of wind; his
whiskers had a horrified expression, like they'd made their escape
if they hadn't been fastened on, and he was double-jointed in every
point of the compass. When he stood up straight he give you more
the impression of sittin' down then a man sick a-bed could. I
dunno how it come, but everything old Pete looked like, seemed
precisely the reverse.
"The way I got acquainted with Pete was when he put his hard coin
agin a French tin-horn's race-track game. There was little horses
running around a board, and you put your money where you thought it
would win, but you never thought right, because the Dago had a
stick under the table that pulled them races to suit his fancy.
"It stood to reason that taking money off'n a man who'd play such a
game was inhumanity in the first degree, so when Pete's last dollar
departed I entered that horse-race with a gun, just as I had no
business to, and I says to the tin-horn, 'Look-a-here, you put that
money across the board, or I'll play a tune on you,' and so he
shouldn't think I was interferin' out of an idle curiosity, I
pointed the weapon at him.
"'O-rrr righ'!' says he; 'Tooty-sweet.' I lost a good deal of
patience on the spot. You see, it seemed like he was tryin' to be
entertaining. I say, by way of an amoosin' remark, that I'm goin'
to play a tune on that tin-horn, and he gayly tells me to toot
sweet! Well, I don't want to harrow your feelin's. Anyway, Pete
got his money and Frenchy returned to the land where his style of
remarks was more appreciated, a little later.
"So Pete, he grasps my hand with tears in his eyes and considerable
blood on his nose, where I'd accidently hit him with the Dago, and
he says I'm his friend forever, and he'll show me what friendship
really means. That's why I'm inclined to say that for rest and
recreation I'll take an enemy. Whether our friend and brother, Mr.
Douglass, was the luckiest or unluckiest man on earth, I've never
been able to figger out. He personally explored the bottom of
every old prospeck hole in the country. He was romantic by
disposition, Pete was, and loved to go for walks at night. If he
didn't turn up for breakfast I took down the coil of rope and
proceeded until I found the right hole, because you could bet as
safe that he was at the bottom of one of 'em as you could that the
bottom itself was there.
"When I asked him, 'How come you to do it, Pete?' he allus
answered, 'I dunno; I got to thinkin' about somethin'.' If
anything valooable had occurred to Pete, whilest he was in one of
them thinking spells, he'd have been one of these here geniuses.
"When a saw mill sent a slab sailin', or bust a belt, Pete was at
the center of the disturbed districk. He fell off every foot log
in ten miles; why, he was drowned fourteen times in three weeks!