Suddenly--was the glistening yellow mineral taking fire? It began
to give off sulphurous fumes. And drifting away with them were all
Birt's golden visions and Nate's ill-gotten wealth--ending in smoke!
The sulphurous odor grew stronger. Even Towse stopped short, and
gazed at the shovel with a reprehensive sniff.
"Ker-shoo!" he sneezed.
And commenting thus, he turned abruptly and went hastily out, with a
startled look and a downcast tail.
His sneeze seemed to break the spell of silence that had fallen on
the little group.
"It be mighty nigh bodaciously changed ter cinders!" exclaimed Birt,
staring in amaze at the lustreless contents of the shovel from which
every suggestion of golden glimmer had faded. "What do it be, ef
'tain't gold?"
"Iron pyrites," said the professor. "'Fools' gold,' it is often
called."
He explained to Birt that in certain formations, however, gold is
associated with iron pyrites, and when the mineral is properly
roasted, this process serving to expel the sulphur, the fine
particles of gold are found held in the resulting oxide of iron.
But the variety of the mineral discovered down the ravine he said
was valueless, unless occurring in vast quantities, when it is
sometimes utilized in the production of sulphur.
"I wonder," Birt broke out suddenly, "if the assayer won't find no
gold in them samples ez Nate sent him."
The professor laughed. "The assayer will need the 'philosopher's
stone' to find gold in any samples from this locality."
"Ye knowed then, all the time, ez this stuff warn't gold?" asked
Birt.
"All the time," rejoined the elder.
"An' Nate hev got the steepest, rockiest spot in the kentry ter pay
taxes on," resumed Birt, reflectively. "An' he hev shelled out a
power o' money ter the surveyor, an' sech, a'ready. I reckon he'll
be mightily outed when he finds out ez the min'ral ain't gold."
Birt stopped short in renewed anxiety.
That missing grant! Somehow he felt sure that Nate, balked of the
great gains he had promised himself, would wreak his disappointment
wherever he might; and since the land was of so little value, he
would not continue to deny himself his revenge for fear that an
investigation into the priority of the mineral's discovery might
invalidate the entry. Once more Birt was tortured by the terror of
arrest--he might yet suffer a prosecution from malignity, which had
hitherto been withheld from policy. If only the mystery of the lost
grant could be solved!
The conversation of the elders had returned to the subject of the
investigations around the "lick" and the terms for Birt's services.
As so much time had been consumed with the pyrites, the professor
concluded with some vexation that they could hardly arrange all the
preliminaries and get to work this afternoon.
"I dare say we had best begin to-morrow morning," he said at last.
"Birt can't go a-diggin' no-ways, this evenin'," put in the
officious Rufe, who stood, according to his wont, listening with his
mouth and eyes wide open, "'kase ez I kem home by the tanyard Jube
Perkins hollered ter me ter tell Birt ter come thar right quick. I
furgot it till this minit," he added, with a shade of embarrassment
that might pass for apology.
Birt felt a prophetic thrill. This summons promised developments of
importance. Only a few hours ago he was discharged under suspicion
of dishonesty; why this sudden recall? He did not know whether hope
or fear was paramount. He trembled with eager expectancy. He
seized his hat, and strode out of the house without waiting to hear
more of the professor's plans or the details of the wages.
He had reached the fence before he discovered Tennessee close at his
heels. He cast his troubled eyes down upon her, and met her
pleading, upturned gaze. He was about to charge her to go back.
But then he remembered how she had followed him with blessings--how
mercy had kept pace with her steps. He would not deny her the
simple boon she craved, and if she were troublesome and in his way,
surely he might be patient with her, since she loved him so! He
lifted her over the fence, and then started briskly down the path,
the sturdy, light-footed little mountain girl delightedly trudging
along in the rear.
When he entered the tanyard no one was there except Jube Perkins and
Andy Byers the tanner, lounging as usual on the wood-pile, and the
workman, with scarcely less the aspect of idleness, dawdlingly
scraping a hide on the wooden horse. Birt discerned a portent in
the unwonted solemnity of their faces, and his heart sank.
"Waal, Birt, we-uns hev been a-waitin' fur ye," said the tanner in a
subdued, grave tone that somehow reminded Birt of the bated voices
in a house of death. "Set down hyar on the wood-pile, fur Andy an'
me hev got a word ter say ter ye."
Birt's dilated black eyes turned in dumb appeal from one to the
other as he sank down on the wood-pile. His suspense gnawed him
like an actual grief while Jubal Perkins slowly shifted his position
and looked vaguely at Andy Byers for a suggestion, being uncertain
how to begin.
"Waal, Birt," he drawled at last, "ez yer dad is dead an' ye hev got
nobody ter see arter ye an' advise ye, Andy an' me, we-uns agreed ez
how we'd talk ter ye right plain, an' try ter git ye ter jedge o'
this hyar matter like we-uns do. Andy an' me know more 'bout the
law, an' 'bout folks too, than ye does. These hyar Griggs folks hev
always been misdoubted ez a fractious an' contrary-wise fambly. Ef
enny Griggs ain't aggervatin' an' captious, it air through bein'
plumb terrified by the t'others. They air powerful hard folks--an'
they'll land ye in the State Prison yet, I'm thinkin'. I wonder
they hain't started at ye a'ready. But thar's no countin' on 'em,
'ceptin' that they'll do all they kin that air ha'sh an' grindin'."
"That air a true word, Birt," said Andy Byers, speaking to the boy
for the first time in many days. "Ef they hev thar reason fur it,
they mought hold thar hand fur a time, but fust or las' they'll hev
all out'n ye ez the law will allow 'em."
Birt listened in desperation. All this was sharpened by the
certainty that the mineral was only valueless pyrites, and the
prescience of Nate's anger when this fact should come to his
knowledge, and prudence no longer restrain him. His rage would vent
itself on his luckless victim for every cent, every mill, that the
discovery of the "fools' gold" had cost him.
"They'll be takin' ye away from the mountings ter jail ye an' try
ye, an' mebbe ye'll go ter the pen'tiary arter that. An' how will
yer mother, an' brothers, an' sister, git thar vittles, an'
firewood, an' corn-crap an' clothes, an' sech--Rufe bein' the oldest
child, arter you-uns?" demanded the tanner. "An' even when ye git
back--I hate ter tell ye this word--nobody will want ye round.
They'll be feared ye'd be forever pickin' an' stealin'."
"But we-uns will stand up fur ye, bein' ez ye air the widder's son,"
said Byers eagerly. "We-uns will gin the Griggs tribe ter
onderstand that."
"An' mebbe the Griggses won't want ter do nuthin', ef they hain't
got no furder cause fur holdin' a grudge," put in the tanner.
"What be ye a-layin' off fur me ter do?" asked Birt wonderingly.
"Ter gin Nate's grant back ter him," they both replied in a breath.
"I hev not got it!" cried poor Birt tumultuously. "I never stole
it! I dunno whar it be!"
The tanner's expression changed from paternal kindliness to
contemptuous anger.
"Air ye goin' ter keep on bein' a liar, Birt, ez well ez a thief?"
he said sternly.
"I dunno whar it be," reiterated Birt desperately.
"_I_ know whar it be," said Byers. Birt gazed at him astounded.
"Whar?" he cried eagerly.
"Whar ye hid it," returned Byers coolly.
Birt's lips moved with difficulty as he huskily ejaculated "I never
hid it--I never!"
"Ye needn't deny it. I ez good ez seen ye hide it."
Birt looked dazed for a moment. Then the blood rushed to his face
and as suddenly receded, leaving it pale and rigid. He was cold and
trembling. He could not speak.
The tanner scrutinized him narrowly. Then he said, "Tell him 'bout
it, Andy. Tell him jes' ez ye tole me. An' mebbe he'll hev sense
enough ter gin it up when he sees he air fairly caught."
"Waal," said Byers, leaning back against the wall of the smoke-
house, and holding the knife idly poised in his hand, "I kem down
ter the tanyard betimes that mornin' arter the storm. Both ye an'
Birt war late. I noticed Nate Griggs's coat hangin' thar in the
shed, with a paper stickin' out'n the pocket, ez I started inter the
smoke-house ter tend ter the fire. I reckon I mus' hev made
consider'ble racket in thar, 'kase I never hearn nuthin' till I sot
down afore the fire on a log o' wood, an' lit my pipe. All of a
suddenty thar kem a step outside, toler'ble light on the tan. I
jes' 'lowed 't war ye or Birt. But I happened ter look up, an' thar
I see a couple o' big black eyes peepin' through that thar crack in
the wall."
He turned and pointed out a crevice where the "daubin'" had fallen
from the "chinkin'" between the logs.
"Ye can see," he resumed, "ez this hyar crack air jes' the height o'
Birt. Waal, them eyes lookin' in so onexpected didn't 'sturb me
none. I hev knowed the Dicey eye fur thirty year, an' thar ain't
none like 'em nowhar round the mountings. But I 'lowed 't war
toler'ble sassy in Birt ter stand thar peerin' at me through the
chinkin'. I never let on, though, ez I viewed him. An' then, them
eyes jes' set up sech a outdacious winkin' an' wallin', an'
squinchin', ez I knowed he war makin' faces at me. So I jes' riz
up--an' the eyes slipped away from thar in a hurry. I war aimin'
ter larrup Birt fur his sass, but I stopped ter hang up a skin ez I
hed knocked down. It never tuk me long, much, but when I went out,
thar warn't nobody ter be seen in the tanyard."
He paused to place one foot upon the wooden horse, and he leaned
forward with a reflective expression, his elbow on his knee, and his
hand holding his bearded chin.
The afternoon was waning. The scarlet sun in magnified splendor was
ablaze low down in the saffron west. The world seemed languorously
afloat in the deep, serene flood of light. Shadows were lengthening
slowly. The clangor of a cow-bell vibrated in the distance.
The drone of Andy Byers's voice overbore it as he recommenced.
"Waal, I was sorter conflusticated, an' I looked round powerful
sharp ter see whar Birt hed disappeared to. I happened ter cut my
eye round at that thar pit ez he hed finished layin' the tan in, an'
kivered with boards, an' weighted with rocks that day ez ye an' me
hed ter go an' attend on old Mrs. Price. Ye know we counted ez that
thar pit wouldn't be opened ag'in fur a right smart time?"
The tanner nodded assent.
"Waal, I noticed ez the aidge o' one o' them boards war sot sorter
catawampus, an' I 'lowed ez 't war the wind ez hed 'sturbed it. Ez
I stooped down ter move it back in its place, I seen su'thin' white
under it. So I lifted the board, an' thar I see, lyin' on the tan
a-top o' the pit, a stiff white paper. I looked round toward the
shed, an' thar hung the coat yit--with nuthin' in the pocket. I
didn't know edzactly what ter make of it, an' I jes' shunted the
plank back over the paper in the pit like I fund it, an' waited ter
see what mought happen. An' all the time ez that thar racket war
goin' on bout'n the grant, I knowed powerful well whar 't war, an'
who stole it."
Birt looked from one to the other of the two men. Both evidently
believed every syllable of this story. It was so natural, so
credible, that he had a curious sense of inclining toward it, too.
Had he indeed, in some aberration, taken the grant? Was it some
tricksy spirit in his likeness that had peered through the chinking
at Andy Byers?
He could find no words to contend further. He sat silent, numb,
dumfounded.
"Birt," said the tanner coaxingly, "thar ain't no use in denyin' it
enny mo'. Let's go an' git that grant, an' take it ter Nate an'
tell the truth."
The words roused Birt. He clutched at the idea of getting
possession of the paper that had so mysteriously disappeared and
baffled and eluded him. He could at least return it. And even if
this should fail to secure him lenient treatment, he would feel that
he had done right. He rose suddenly in feverish anxiety.
Andy Byers and Perkins, exchanging a wink of congratulation,
followed him to the pit.
"It air under this hyar board," said Byers, moving one of the heavy
stones, and lifting a broad plank.
Perkins pressed forward with eager curiosity, never having seen this
famous grant.
The ground bark on the surface was pretty dry, the layer being ten
or fifteen inches thick, and the tanning infusion had not yet risen
through it.
Byers stared with a frown at the tan, and lifted another board.
Nothing appeared beneath it on the smooth surface of the bark.
In sudden alarm they took away the boards, one after another, till
all were removed, and the whole surface of the pit was exposed.
Then they looked at each other, bewildered. For once more the grant
was gone.