A ROYAL NAME FOR A ROYAL MINE
Peveril was greatly distressed at the unforeseen and mysterious
disappearance of the Darrells; for it made him feel as though he had
driven them from their home and usurped their rights. The place also
seemed very empty and forlorn without Mary Darrell's winning face and
all-pervading presence; for, though he had seen but little of her and
had reason to believe that she did not feel kindly towards him, he now
realized how much his happiness had depended on the knowledge that she
was always close at hand.
Then, too, the domestic establishment that ran on so smoothly under
the supervision of Aunty Nimmo was completely broken up. Nelly
Trefethen must, of course, return at once to Red Jacket, and this she
did that very day on Mary Darrell's pony, under escort of Mike
Connell, who was only too happy to make the journey on foot. The few
men employed by Mr. Darrell having been paid off and discharged, the
departure of his two remaining friends left the young proprietor
entirely alone, in a place as desolate as though it were beyond the
reach of human knowledge. The sky was overcast, making the day dark
and cheerless, so that, as Peveril wandered disconsolately about his
deserted property, the future looked to him as gloomy as the present.
"There can't be anything in it," he said to himself, as he gazed
moodily down the black mouth of the shaft. "Of course, the men who
sank a fortune in that hole would have found it out long ago if there
were. As for those prehistoric workings on which the major counts so
largely, I don't believe but what the old fellows who opened them also
made a pretty thorough clean-up of everything in them. Certainly the
few small piles of copper that they left behind would not now pay for
their removal.
"It has all been very pleasant to dream of becoming a wealthy
mine-owner, but the sooner I realize that it is only a dream, and wake
from it to the necessity of earning a livelihood by hard work, the
better off I shall be. At any rate, I know I won't spend another day
alone in this place. If I did, I should go crazy. No wonder old man
Darrell lost his mind under the conditions surrounding him. I don't
believe Major Arkell will come back, anyway. Why should he, if, as is
probable, he has discovered the utter worthlessness of the property?
He knows that if he leaves me here alone I must turn up in Red Jacket
sooner or later, and thinks the bad news he has to tell will keep
until I do. Well, I shall throw the whole thing up to-morrow and go to
him for a job. There isn't anything else for it that I can see.
"I guess he will give me something to do, and after a while I shall
rise to be a plat-man, or timber boss, or even store-keeper, and
then--Well, then I can settle down and marry some nice girl like Nelly
Trefethen, perhaps achieve fame as a local politician, and so end my
days in a blaze of glory. Oh, it's a lovely prospect! As for poor
Rose, there's no use in thinking any longer of her, and the sooner she
forgets me the better. Probably she has ere this, and, if so, I can't
blame her."
At length the long day dragged itself wearily away, and darkness found
Peveril faint with hunger, for he had not had the heart to prepare a
dinner, awkwardly attempting to provide himself with something to eat
in Aunty Nimmo's kitchen. A single lamp threw a faint ray out from the
window, and in all that forlorn little mining village it was the only
gleam of light to be seen.
Suddenly there came a clatter of hoofs and a cheery "Hello, the
house!"
Instantly forgetful of his culinary operations, Peveril sprang to the
door, just in time to fling it open and welcome Major Arkell, who was
alighting from a weary-looking horse.
"What will you take for your Copper Princess, my boy?" shouted the
new-comer as he entered the room, rubbing his hands and sniffing
expectantly at the pleasant odors of cooking with which it was
pervaded.
"About five cents," responded Peveril.
"Done! It's a bargain," cried the other. "And we'll settle the details
of the transfer after eating the elegant supper that I discover in
process of preparation. But you are not cooking half enough. I could
eat twice as much as that and still be hungry. Let me show you how.
What has become of Aunty Nimmo, that I find you presiding over her
domain? Never mind; tell me later, after you've called Connell or some
one to look after my horse."
"I will gladly attend to the horse, major, if you will take charge of
the cooking," said Peveril, laughing for the first time that day. "You
see, I am not an expert at this sort of thing, and--"
"No, I should judge not," interrupted the other, glancing comically at
the various burned, lumpy, and muddy failures with which the stove was
covered; "but I'll do the trick for you if you will look after the
beast."
Half an hour later the two sat down to a bountiful and fairly
well-cooked meal that in the major's cheery company seemed to poor,
hungry Peveril about as fine a one as he had ever eaten. While it was
in progress he told of the happenings of the past week, including the
mysterious disappearance of the Darrells; but, as the major did not
seem to have any news to impart in return, he concluded that there was
none to tell, and so forbore to ask questions.
It was not until after they had finished supper and were sitting
before a cheerful blaze in the cosey living-room of the Darrell house
that the major said:
"Now for our bargain. Though I could, of course, hold you to that
five-cent deal, I won't do so, but will, instead, make an offer of ten
thousand dollars for one-half of your half-interest in the Copper
Princess."
"What!" gasped Peveril.
"Yes, I mean it; and, in addition, if you will devote that sum to the
development of the mine, I will advance an equal amount, or ten
thousand dollars more, for the same purpose. Now don't say a word
until I have explained the situation. By a careful searching of old
records and maps I have discovered that the Princess property not only
embraces our prehistoric mine, but extends some distance beyond it. I
think I have also found out why those who originally laid out this
mine started their cuts on the wrong side of their shaft. They
evidently knew that ancient workings existed somewhere in this
neighborhood, but they were deceived as to their location, for on all
the maps I find them marked, but the place thus indicated is always in
the opposite direction from that in which we now know them to lie."
"But--" began Peveril.
"Wait a minute. Of course those old fellows may merely have struck a
pocket and exhausted it, but I don't believe so, and am willing to
risk twenty thousand dollars on the continuance of the vein. If it is
there, that sum of money ought to enable us to reach it from your
present shaft; and if we do strike it, why, in the slang of the day,
the Copper Princess is simply a 'peach.' Are you game to accept my
offer and go in for raising that kind of fruit?"
"I certainly am."
"Good! Shake. The bargain is made, and the sooner we get to work the
better."
Ten days from that time sees the legal formalities of that quickly
concluded bargain settled, and the mining village of Copper Princess
presenting a vastly different appearance from what it did on the
melancholy day when Peveril was its sole occupant. All its houses are
now occupied, and from every window cheery lights stream out with the
coming of evening shadows.
Peveril occupies the comfortable quarters so long ago provided for the
manager, and until recently the home of the Darrells. With him lives a
young engineer of about his own age, recommended by Major Arkell, and
here, too, are the several offices. The nearest cottage to it is that
of our old friends the Trefethens--for Mark Trefethen is captain of
the mine, and Tom is shaft boss. Mrs. Trefethen and Nelly have their
hands full in caring for both these houses and in providing meals for
their occupants. Mike Connell is timber boss, and, in timbering the
ancient mine, as well as the new workings, is one of the busiest men
in the place.
Although he has a cottage of his own, it is still a lonely one, and he
is looking eagerly forward to the time when the anxiously expected
vein shall be struck. Then, and not until then--and, in case it is not
struck at all, perhaps never--will Nelly Trefethen become his wife. So
it is no wonder that the impatient fellow descends the shaft each day
to anxiously inspect the new work.
With nearly one hundred sturdy miners engaged on it, and the other
tasks necessary to its progress, it is driven by night as well as by
day, and in reality advances with great rapidity, though to Connell
it seems to creep by inches. The great chimney pours forth clouds of
smoke, heavy skips hurry up and down the shaft, there is always a
cheerful ring of anvils, rafts of logs lie in the land-locked basin,
men and teams are to be seen in every direction, and everywhere is
heard the inspiring hum of many industries, though as yet not one
pound of copper has been brought up from the underground depths.
For weeks and months the work goes on with unabated energy. Peveril,
always willing to listen to advice and never ashamed to ask it from
those more experienced than himself, is everywhere, seeing to
everything and directing everything. Though he is thinner than when we
first met him, and his face has taken on an anxious look, it wears at
the same time an expression of greater manliness, self-confidence, and
determination.
Major Arkell has not yet appeared on the scene in person, and only the
young proprietor is known as the responsible head of all this
bewildering activity.
It is bewildering to outsiders to see the long-abandoned "Darrell's
Folly" suddenly transformed into one of the busiest mining-camps of
the copper region, for as yet no one, except Connell and the
Trefethens, knows the secret hopes of the proprietors. Even those who
are driving the new side-cut far beneath the surface, straight as a
die towards the prehistoric mine, though on a much lower level, know
not what they are expected to find.
At length three months have passed since the night on which Peveril
sold for ten thousand dollars an undivided half of his interest in the
Copper Princess. Since that time he has not once left the scene of his
labors, his hopes, and his fears. He has not even visited Red Jacket
since the morning, that now seems so long ago, when he left it in
charge of a gang of log-wreckers. Now the money put into this new
venture is very nearly exhausted. It will hold out for one more
pay-day, but that is all. And as yet only barren rock has come up from
that yawning shaft that seems to gulp down money with an appetite at
once inordinate and insatiable.
A huge pile of rock has accumulated about its mouth. If it were copper
rock it would be worth a fortune; as it is, it is worse than
worthless, for it contains only disappointed hopes. And yet a point
directly beneath the ancient workings has been reached and passed. Is
the quest a vain one, after all? Is Peveril's as great a folly as
Darrell's ever was? It would seem so; and the young proprietor's heart
is heavy within him.
He has just received the letter in which Mary Darrell declares the
Copper Princess to be a worthless property. With it in his pocket he
visits the mouth of the shaft, intending to descend. As he approaches
it, a skip containing several men comes to the surface. When they
emerge into daylight they are yelling in delirious excitement. One of
them leaps out and runs towards him, shouting incoherently. It is Mike
Connell.
What had gone wrong? Has there been some terrible accident
underground?
"We've struck it, Mister Peril! We've struck the vein, and it's the
richest ever knowed!" yells the Irishman. "Here's a specimen. Did ever
you see the like? It's gold--nothing less! Hooray for us! Hooray for
the Princess! and hooray for Nell Trefethen, that'll be Mrs. Michael
Connell this day week, plaze God!"
A few minutes later every cottage in the settlement holds specimens of
the wonderful rock glistening with glowing metal. Every man is
cheering himself hoarse. The great steam-whistle is shrieking out the
glorious news, and Richard Peveril, with heavy pockets, is riding like
mad in the direction of Red Jacket. The Copper Princess--a royal name
for a royal mine--has at last entered as a power the ranks of the
world's wealth-yielding properties.