ROBBED
"Now I'll say good-by to you men," Marshall said, when they reached the
outskirts of Hangtown. "I am real sorry that your venture turned out the
way that it did; but a man has got to expect any sort of luck in the
diggings, and usually it is the worst sort that he gets dealt out to
him, at least that has been my experience," and he smiled bitterly.
Marshall now stood for a moment, irresolutely, his eyes fixed on Thure
and Bud; and then, suddenly, he thrust one of his hands deep into his
trousers pocket and drew out a little roll of buckskin, carefully folded
and tied. This little packet he at once untied and unrolled and brought
to light two small gold nuggets. With one of these in either hand he now
approached Thure and Bud.
"My young friends," he said, "I do not know as the life you saved is of
much value; but still I prize it, being the only life I have; and I want
to show you that I appreciate the quickness and the bravery of your
action, and to leave with you some memento of the deed and of the man
you saved from a horrible death. I am poor, others have grown rich off
my misfortunes--" Again that bitter look of mingled discontent and
useless rebellion swept over his face--"but I still have left these two
little nuggets of gold, the very two pieces of gold that I picked up
from the mill-race on that cold January morning, the first two nuggets
of gold found in California! I prize them above everything else that I
possess; and, because they are so dear to me, I now most willingly give
them to you, to keep in memory of this day and of the unfortunate man
whose life you saved," and he handed one of the nuggets to Thure and the
other to Bud. "Keep them carefully. They will be valuable mementos some
day, Good-by," and without another word or waiting for a reply, he
whirled about and walked swiftly away.
Thure and Bud both ran after him, and told him that, although they would
prize the nuggets above anything else he could give them, they did not
wish to take them from him, the one who first picked them up, that they
belonged to him, that he ought to keep them; but Marshall would not
listen to them, would not take the nuggets back, would not even stop to
hear the boys' thanks, and strode on down the trail to where the lights
of Hangtown were beginning to twinkle through the gathering shadows of
night.
In after years these two little gold nuggets became the most valued
treasures in the possession of the families of our young heroes; and
their grandchildren still cherish them among their most prized
heirlooms.
"I reckon thar's somethin' jest a leetle out of kilter in th' top of
Marshall's head," Ham commented, as he watched the man hurrying down the
trail. "He's smart enough when it comes tew th' use of tools; but
outside of them 'bout everything that he touches 'pears tew go wrong
with him, an' ginerally it goes wrong because of th' fool way he tackles
it, though he lays his bad luck all on th' ingratertude of his feller
mortals."
Thure and Bud very carefully stowed away the two nuggets in their
pockets, and hurried on after their companions, who were hurrying up the
trail leading to the log house.
As they passed the Dickson log cabin Mr. and Mrs. Dickson both came out.
Mrs. Dickson's eyes were red from crying, and the face of Dickson was
white and set, with a look of despair in his eyes not good to see.
"Hello! What has happened?" and Mr. Conroyal, who was in the lead,
stopped suddenly and stared in astonishment at the woe-begone faces of
the erstwhile happy couple.
"Robbed," Dickson answered sententiously. "Robbed and the mine has
played out."
"Yes, robbed of all but about fifty dollars' worth of gold-dust that we
took out this afternoon before the mine gave out," and Mrs. Dickson's
voice trembled. "And not a thing to tell us who did the robbing. Robbed
of a good forty thousand dollors' worth of gold-dust! Enough to have
taken us both back to New York state and enabled us to have lived the
rest of our lives in comfort," and Mrs. Dickson's voice broke into sobs.
"Robbed! Robbed of all your gold!" and our friends gather around them in
great excitement and indignation.
"When?"
"How?"
"Who did it?"
"Sometime this afternoon," answered Mr. Dickson, "as near as we can
figure it out just a little before the storm. But all that we really
know is, that, when we went to get the gold to-night, it was gone, and
without a sign left to tell who had taken it."
"And we had it so well hidden," mourned Mrs. Dickson, "under a stone in
the fireplace. And then to think that the mine should give out at the
same time!" and again she burst into tears.
"Wal, it shore is tough luck, Leetle Woman," sympathized Ham. "But we've
got tew take th' tough luck with th' tender an' make th' best on it.
Now, supposin' we have a look around. Maybe we can find some clue that
you missed, you being some excited. It'll go mighty hard with th'
robbers, if we catch them," and Ham's face hardened. "Now jest show us
where you had th' gold hidden," and he and the others followed Mr. and
Mrs. Dickson into the house.
"We had the gold hid right there, under that stone," and Dickson pointed
to an upturned flat stone, about a foot square, that lay near a small
hole, excavated in the bed of the fireplace, which the stone had
evidently covered over and concealed. "When we got in to-night there was
not a suspicious sign anywhere; and it was not until I lifted the stone
off the hole to put the gold in that we'd taken out since noon that we
discovered that we had been robbed. I reckon there is no use of trying
to find the robbers. A hundred men could hide themselves in these
mountains in a couple of hours where ten thousand could not find them,"
and the look of despair settled back on his face. "Nobody saw them come
and nobody saw them go and nobody has the least idea who did the
robbing. So, I guess, it is just up to Mollie and me to buckle down to
hard work and hard living again."
"Now, don't git discourage. Maybe thar's better luck in store for you
than you dream of," and Ham's face lighted up, as if a pleasant idea had
suddenly come to him. "I want tew have a talk with th' rest of th'
members of th' Never-Give-Up California Mining Company; an' then, may be
we'll have a propersition tew make tew you, an', ag'in, maybe we won't,"
and Ham grinned so good-naturedly that even Mrs. Dickson smiled wanly.
"Come on, fellers, let's git tew th' office of th' Never-Give-Up
California Mining Company; an' go intew secret session tew consider
important matters," and he hurried out of the house, followed by all the
others, except Mr. and Mrs. Dickson, who stared after them with
something like hope mingled with the look of wonderment on their faces.
They knew that Hammer Jones never talked that way, under such serious
circumstances, without meaning something. But, what could he mean?
Ham was the first to open the door of the log house and enter. The room
was dark and he struck a match and lit the candle, which had been left
on the table ready for lighting. The moment the light of the candle
illuminated the surface of the table, Ham uttered an exclamation and
stood staring blankly, for a moment, at something that glittered and
shimmered in the flickering candle light near the center of the table.
"Wal, I'll be durned!" and he reached out one of his big hands and
gingerly drew from the table a small keen-bladed Mexican dagger, which,
with a strong blow, had been driven through a piece of paper deep into
the wood of the table.
All the others were now crowding excitedly around the table; and Mr.
Conroyal quickly picked up the piece of paper and held it up to the
candlelight. On the paper were scrawled, with a piece of charred coal by
a hand unused to writing, the following words:
WE ARE AGOIN TEW GIT THE MAP OR WE ARE A GOIN TEW GIT THE GOLD
AFTER YOU GIT IT IF WE HAVE TEW GIT YOU TEW DEW IT. SO TEW SAVE
YURSELFS TRUBLE AND TEW KEEP HUL SKINS ON YUR BONES YOUD BETER HAND
OVER THAT MAP. THARS ENUF ON US TEW WHIP THE HUL ON YOU OFF THE
FACE OF THE EARTH AND WE WIL DO IT IF YOU DONT GIVE UP THE MAP. A
WORD TEW THE WISE IS ENUF. LIFE IS WURTH MORN GOLD. TI THE MAP TEW
THE END OF THE STRING THAT YOU WIL FIND TIED TEW A STICK STUCK IN
THE GROUND RIGHT NEAR YUR DOOR AND WE WIL PUL THE MAP TEW US. IF
YOU TRI TEW FOLLOW THE MAP WE WIL SHOOT TEW KIL. IF YOU TRI TEW
ROUSE THE TOWN WE WIL VAMOSE. WE ARE ON THE WATCH. GIVE 3 JERKS ON
THE STRING WHEN YUR REDY FOR US TEW PUL THE MAP IN. IF WE DONT GIT
THE MAP BY MIDNIGHT TEWNIGHT WE WIL KNOW ITS TEW BE WAR TEW THE
DEATH.
This ominous note was unsigned; but there was no need of any signature.
For a moment after all had finished reading, no one spoke, but each
stood staring from the paper to the dagger in Ham's hand. Then Ham
suddenly straightened up with a growl of rage.
"I thought it was them, an' this proves I was right. Th' durned skunks!"
and the righteous wrath in Ham's eyes was good to see. "Now, men," and
his glance swept swiftly the circle of excited faces, "this makes th'
offerin' of proof unnecessary. We know who robbed th' Dicksons! An' we
know, if they hadn't a-ben watchin' us an' a tryin' tew git hold of that
thar skin map, they wouldn't have found out 'bout Dickson's gold an' did
th' robbin'. This makes us sort of respons'ble for th' robbin'; an', I
reckon, it's up tew us tew try an' make good what th' Dicksons lost on
'count of our bringin' them skunks down on them, more special since
their mine's gin out, tew. Now, seein' that thar durned dam has played
out on us, I reckon we're all a-calculatin' on havin' a try for th' Cave
of Gold next; an' I figger 'twouldn't be more'n square for us tew ask
th' Dicksons tew go long with us on th' hunt for th' dead miner's
wonderful cave, an', if we find it, for them tew share in th' gold same
as us. How does th' propersition strike you, men?"
"Bully!" exclaimed Thure enthusiastically. "Mrs. Dickson can beat dad
and the rest of you making flapjacks all hollow; and she can make
biscuits, real biscuits that a fellow can eat without cracking them
first with a hammer, the same as nuts!"
"Wal, I reckon, that argyment settles it," grinned Ham.
"Supposing we consider the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company in
session and put it to a vote," suggested Mr. Conroyal.
All agreeing, Mr. Conroyal promptly put the matter to a vote; and Mr.
and Mrs. Dickson were duly elected members of the Never-Give-Up
California Mining Company, with all the rights and privileges
appertaining thereto, the vote being unanimous.
"Now I'll appoint Hammer Jones and Rad Randolph a committee to notify
Mr. and Mrs. Dickson of their election and to escort them to the offices
of the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company," and Mr. Conroyal
smiled.
Ham and Mr. Randolph at once caught up their hats and hurried off to
perform their pleasant mission; and in five minutes were back with the
wondering man and woman on their arms between them.
As briefly as possible Mr. Conroyal now told the story of the skin map
and the Cave of Gold; and how they had every reason to believe that the
men who had robbed them were the same men who had murdered the miner,
and who now were striving so desperately to secure the skin map; and in
proof that the robbers and the murderers were the same, he showed the
note and the dagger, which they had found on the table, in evidence that
the men had been there that afternoon.
"Now," he concluded, "Ham thinks, and we all agree with him most
emphatically, that, since we are in a way responsible for bringing the
robbers down upon you, it would be no more than fair for us to invite
you to join with us in our search for this Cave of Gold, understanding,
of course, that, if the gold is found, all are to share alike, as all
will have to share alike the dangers and the difficulties of finding and
keeping it; and, judging by the note we found on the table, the dangers
will be real enough. Of course we are not sure that the cave really
exists, nor, if it does exist, that we will be able to find it; but we
have faith enough in it to give it a try. We plan to start on the hunt
just as soon as we can get ready, probably sometime tomorrow. This I
think explains the matter sufficiently for you to come to a decision.
Are you with us?"
"Yes! Yes!" exclaimed both Mr. and Mrs. Dickson eagerly.
"In to the death, as the note says," added Mrs. Dickson, smiling. "And
we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for the chance."
"Do you know this murdered miner's name?" Dickson asked, his eyes
sparkling with excitement. "I think I know the man."
"John Stackpole, the map says," answered Mr. Conroyal.
"That's the man!" declared Dickson excitedly. "The very man I went
prospecting with last fall. He had some crazy idea in his head then
about a Cave of Gold that an old Indian whom he had cured of some
disease, he had been an army doctor once, had told him he had found in a
hidden gulch that opened into a canyon. We hunted all up and down the
canyon, into which the Indian said the gulch opened, but we couldn't
find no such gulch as the Indian described, and had to give it up. You
remember my telling you all about it, don't you, Mollie?" and Dickson
turned to his wife.
"Yes, yes," assented Mrs. Dickson eagerly. "You went on the trip while I
was away to Sacramento City and you told me all about it, when I got
back. Queer how things do turn out!"
"And so Stackpole really found the cave at last; but at the cost of his
life," and Dickson's face saddened. "Too bad!--I mean his murder; for he
was a good sort of a fellow, when he was away from liquor, but, let him
get a little whiskey down him, and he was as ugly as the devil. I reckon
that it was drink that drove him out of the army in disgrace; and I
reckon it was drink that caused his murder; for he was a very cautious
man and would have said nothing about his discovering the Cave of Gold,
especially to strangers, if he had been in his right senses--Can I, can
I see that map?" and Dickson's face suddenly lighted up. "Possibly I
know the place."
"Sure," and Mr. Conroyal turned to Thure. "Get out the map, Thure."
Thure's face reddened a little, but, turning his back to Mrs. Dickson,
he quickly, with the aid of his knife, ripped open the bosom of his
shirt, and, pulling out the map, handed it to his father, who at once
spread it out on the table in front of Dickson.
"Lot's Canyon!" Dickson cried excitedly, almost the moment his eyes fell
on the map. "Why, that's the very name we gave the canyon where we tried
to find the hidden gulch, on account of a white pillar of rock, that
Stackpole said might have been Lot's wife. And here is the very pillar
itself!" and he pointed to the little square on the map marked Lot's
Wife. "And the Big Tree! And the Devil's Slide! And Goose Neck Lake!
Every one of them names that we gave to places! I am sure that that is
the same canyon that Stackpole searched for the Cave of Gold when I was
with him," and Dickson turned an excited face to Mr. Conroyal. "It's
about a five days' tramp from here."
"That's what the dying miner said," broke in Bud eagerly.
"And do you think you can find that canyon again?" asked Mr. Conroyal
anxiously. "The trail on the map is none too clear; and I reckon we'd
have to do some hunting before we found it, with only the map to guide
us."
"I am sure I can," answered Dickson, his eyes still on the map.
"Well, then, we are in great luck," declared Mr. Conroyal. "I--Jumping
grasshoppers, if we are not forgetting all about that polite note!" he
exclaimed, as his eyes happened suddenly to fall on the dagger and the
bit of paper, which, during all this time, had lain on the table
neglected. "Now, what shall we do about that?" and his eyes flashed
around the circle of faces.
"Let's first see if the string is really there," proposed Thure.
"Good idee," and Ham caught up the candle and started for the door,
followed by all the others, Thure and Bud at his heels.
Within six feet of the door they found a sharpened stick thrust into the
ground, with the end of a strong string tied to it. The string ran along
the ground as far as the eye could see and disappeared in the darkness
of the night, in the direction of a thick clump of trees forty rods
away.
"Wal, now, they shore are cunnin' cusses!" and Ham's eyes followed the
string admiringly until it was lost in the darkness. "Jest tie th' map
tew th' end of this string, an' somebudy out thar somewhere in th'
darkness will pull it tew him, without nobudy here bein' th' wiser for
it. Not a durned bit of use tew follow up th' string neither. They could
shoot an' cut an' run long afore we could see them in th' darkness. They
shore are good at planning th' durned skunks! Say, jest supposin' we
send 'em a leetle message, jest tew see how th' string works," and Ham
turned to the others, a broad grin on his face.
This impressed all as a good idea, and they hurried back into the house
to prepare the message. In a few minutes the message, written on the
back of the piece of paper which they had found on the table, was ready.
It was brief, but to the point, and read:
If you want the map, come and get it. There are nine men and one
woman, worth any two men, who will be glad to welcome you.
The paper, with the message on it, was now rolled up tightly, and all
hurried out to the string.
Mr. Conroyal took the paper, and, kneeling down by the side of the
stick, untied the string, tied the little packet of paper strongly to
it, and then gave the string three sharp, strong jerks.
The response was prompt. Hardly had he given the last jerk, when the
string was pulled out of his hand, and the little packet of paper
started bobbing along over the ground toward the distant clump of trees,
with all watching its progress with fascinated eyes, until it
disappeared in the darkness.
For, perhaps, ten minutes they stood there, no one speaking a word, and
all eyes turned in the direction whither the little packet of paper had
disappeared. Then they saw a faint glow in the little clump of trees, as
if someone had struck a match.
"I reckon they're readin' it," grinned Ham. "Wonder how they like it?"
Ham did not have to wonder long; for, almost as he uttered the last
word, a spurt of flame leaped out from the dark shadows of the distant
clump of trees, and a rifle bullet whistled so close by his face that it
burnt the end of his nose, and buried itself in the logs of the house.
"Gosh A'mighty, he's got my nose!" and Ham made a break for the door of
the house, one big hand holding on to the end of his nose.
In two seconds all were in the house and the door shut.
"How much on it did he git? Not enough tew spoil my beauty, I hopes,"
and Ham held a lighted candle in front of his face before a small mirror
hanging on the wall. "Wal, I'll be durned! Jest burnt th' tip end on
it!" and he set the candle down on the table in disgust.
The darkness of the night and the wilderness of the surrounding
mountains made absolutely useless any attempt to follow up their
enemies; and, after an hour spent in discussing plans, Mr. and Mrs.
Dickson returned to their house, and our friends hurried into their
bunks, to get the rest needed to fit them for a busy morrow.