THE MINERS' MEETING
Of all criminals in the unwritten code of mining camps in the early
days in the Yukon, the sneak-thief was the most despised. A man might
live as he pleased, as a squaw-man, or with several paramours; he might
shoot a man down in his tracks, if for honour or self-defense. But for
a man who robbed sluice boxes or stole from cabins there was no term of
condemnation strong enough in the English language. Cabins in those
days were seldom locked, and a man who secured his door at night, or
when he left the place, was viewed with suspicion, and often shunned.
Anyone might enter another's abode, borrow what he needed, and, if
hungry, help himself. It was the law, the unwritten verdict of the
place.
When Keith reached the store he found most of the men congregated
there, discussing the whole affair in no light terms. Some were
sitting on rude benches, others were standing. The room reeked with
tobacco and whiskey fumes. As he gazed around and noticed how the
scent of blood had aroused their passions, a sigh escaped his lips. A
number who at the debate had talked the strongest about temperance, who
were so quiet in the Reading Room, and orderly in church, were among
the most vehement talkers, and expressed their views in the strongest
manner.
They reminded him of a certain Sunday School class in his old home
town. When separated each was quiet and manly, a typical little saint,
who said "yes, sir," and "no, sir," most carefully, and could tell
about Moses and David with evident pride. But when together, the mob
instinct seemed to possess them, and to carry them beyond all bounds of
reason in thought, word and deed.
As he listened to these miners and heard their rash remarks he
shuddered. "God help the poor fellow!" he thought, "whoever he may be,
if he once gets into such brutish hands."
"Yes," he heard Tim Fleeters saying, "it was only yesterday that I went
out to cut fire-wood. The poke of gold was in my chest, at the foot of
my bunk. When I returned, and lifted the lid to get some tea which I
kept there, the poke was gone--gold and all."
"The sneak!" spoke up another, "shooting's too good for him."
"Hanging would be better," remarked a third. "Shooting'd be a cinch."
In the meantime the rest of the men had arrived, among whom was
Pritchen, and joined in the conversation.
There were several miners in the room calmer than the rest, of whom
Caribou Sol was one. He had watched the whole proceedings, and
listened to the talk as it drifted along. Seeing that nothing definite
was being done, he at length rose slowly to his feet, and mounted the
bench on which he had been sitting.
"B'ys," he began, rolling a wad of tobacco in his cheek, "let's git
down to bizness. We've met here, as I understand it, to see about that
poke of gold, and all the talk seems to be about what to do with the
thief. Now, who is he, and how are we to find him? I suggest that
fust of all we appoint a chairman to this here meetin', an' git down to
bed rock."
"Right ye are, Sol," said one, "and I move that you take the chair, or,
I should say, bench."
"Hold right thar, pard," broke in the old man. "I don't want that
persition, an' I won't take it. Appint some one else."
"Pritchen, then," called out another. "I move for Pritchen."
"Pritchen, Pritchen," came the response. "He'll do. He's the tongue
for such things. Mount the bench, Bill."
Since the night of the debate Pritchen appeared to be a changed man.
Instead of making a big fuss over the affair he had laughed it off with
the men, and even shook hands with Caribou Sol. "It was only a little
racket," so he told them, "and the sooner forgotten the better." He
occasionally went to the Reading Room, and one Sunday attended church.
The men declared that Bill was "the clear stuff," after all, so
agreeable did he make himself to every one who came in his way. It was
therefore quite natural that he should be chosen chairman on this
occasion.
A half smile played around his mouth as he complied with the miners'
request. He was much pleased with the result so far, and looking from
his elevated position, a contemptuous feeling for the men around him
came into his heart. "What curs they are," he said to himself, "to be
led first one way and then another. But a short time ago they were
ready to drive me out of Klassan; now they have chosen me chairman.
Oh, what great things a little oil will do to make human machines run
smoothly. I guess I've applied it all right this time. My forbears
didn't lick the Blarney stone in old Ireland for nothing, I see that
for sure."
"Boys," he began very deliberately, "I thank you for this honour.
Anyone else would make a far better fist at it; though I shall do the
best I can. It is in the interest of the community that this serious
problem before us should be considered as carefully and promptly as
possible. The meeting is now open for discussion as to the best manner
of proceeding."
"Let's turn out and search every cabin," suggested one.
"No, that won't do," replied another. "The thief may search his own
shack, and laugh up his sleeve at us."
"But we could divvy up," insisted the other. "Several go in a bunch,
and then there'd be no danger."
Caribou Sol listened attentively to the various remarks which were
made. Seeing that no solution of the difficulty was being reached, but
rather a greater complication, he slowly rose and looked around.
"B'ys," he commenced, "if yez don't mind listenin' to an old man, one
who has been through the mill, and seen sich things afore, I'd like to
offer a suggestion."
"Go ahead, Sol," responded several, for they knew the old man only
spoke when he had something important to say.
"Now, I've been in several camps sich as this, where there's no one
sich as magistrate or policeman to enforce law an' order. Then the
miners had to take matters inter their own hands."
"How did they do it?" asked one.
"Ye may be sure they didn't leave it fer every ninny to take up
valuable time waggin' his tongue, an' sayin' nothin'. They ginerally
got down to bizness as soon as the camp was formed, an' appinted
several of the leadin' men to dispense law as they saw fit. Sometimes
they were called 'The Vigilance Committee,' an' right good work they
did, too. They had their eyes peeled fer bizness, ye bet yer life."
"Tell us, Sol, how they chose them," asked Perdue.
"Sometimes by vote, either by ballot or show of hands."
"Was it ever left to the chairman to appoint them?" continued Perdue.
"I should think that's a much easier way, and I suggest that we do the
same."
"Hear, hear!" came the response. "Go ahead, Bill. Name yer men, and
let's get this business fixed up."
Pritchen's eye gleamed with a triumphant light at this turn of affairs.
He made a show of refusing such an important task, but the men would
not listen.
"Come, man," said Perdue, "stick to yer job. Ye kin do it, and all
'ill be satisfied."
"Well, if you want me to do it," replied Pritchen, "you'll have to put
up with my choice. I'll do the best I can, and I want no back jaw when
it's done."
"All right, Bill, never fear. Go ahead."
Pritchen looked slowly round the room as if weighing each man carefully
in his mind.
"Mickie O'Toole," he said, "will you stand by and help with this job?"
"Sure," came the reply. "To the very last."
"And find the rope too, Mickie?" laughed one.
"If you're the thafe, begorra, I'll find the rope, tie the knot, and
give the first pull."
The laugh which followed this repartee showed that the men were in
excellent humour, and enjoying the whole proceedings.
"Tim Slater, I spot you," continued Pritchen. "Is it a go?"
"Very well, pard, ye may bank on me," came the reply.
"Jim, how does your pulse beat?" and Pritchen threw a wink at Perdue.
"Leave me out, Bill. It's hard fer me to git away. Choose some one
else."
"Ah, come off, Jim," remonstrated Mickie. "If I tie the knot you'll
need to brace the poor divil up a bit with a dram or two of yer hot
stuff."
"Guess he won't need the rope, then; the stuff'll fix him," came a
voice from the back of the room.
Perdue craned his neck, and stood on tip-toe to see the speaker, while
his flushed face told that the thrust had gone home.
"Never mind him, Jim," laughed one of the men. "It's only Joe, the
kid, having a little fun."
"It's d-- poor fun, then," surlily replied the saloonkeeper. "Yes,
Bill, I'll jine ye, if my help'll do any good to round up the beast,
and mebbe there's more'n one."
"You ought to know," again came the voice.
Perdue was furious. He was about to give vent to his feelings in no
uncertain language, when Pritchen laid his hand upon his shoulder.
"Be quiet, Jim, and never mind the cur. Let's get on with our job. I
choose the parson," he continued, looking the missionary full in the
eyes.
Keith started as he heard his name mentioned. He had been standing
silently in a corner, watching with disgust the way in which the
business was being conducted. He noticed that the men chosen were
Pritchen's tools. Why had the chairman selected him?
"I would rather not act," he quietly replied. "Please appoint some one
else."
"Ye'd better do it, parson," urged Caribou Sol. "A chaplain may be
needed, an' ye'll be mighty handy."
A peculiar note in the old man's voice and the look in his face placed
Keith on his guard. "Yes, I may be needed," he thought. "If some poor
chap gets into the hands of those brutes it will be well to see that
fair play is given at any rate."
"Very well, then, I agree," he assented after a short pause.
Pritchen noted how quick Sol was to persuade Keith to accept, and the
look upon his face, so the little scene pleased him immensely.
"Now, gentlemen," he announced, "I think one more will do. Five should
make a good number. Let me see," and he hesitated as he looked around
the room.
"What about yourself, Bill?" spoke up several. "You'll do."
Pritchen made a pretence at remonstrating, but the words were drowned
in the noise of the miners, who stamped, clapped, and shouted until the
clamour was deafening.
"All right, then," he replied, when the tumult had subsided. "If you
are as determined as that, I suppose I must act. Let us now get to
work," he concluded, stepping down from the bench.
Keith had been thinking very seriously during all this time, and when
Pritchen ended he lifted up his voice.
"Gentlemen, you have placed upon us a hard and important task, and as
one of the Committee I wish to ask a few questions."
The men giving him respectful attention, he proceeded:
"Suppose one of us on the Committee should be the guilty person, what
are we to do?"
"Choose another," came the reply.
"Is that the will of all?"
"Ay, ay."
"And, if we find the thief, have you any suggestions to make? It may
help us very much."
"Hang him," said one.
"Drive him from Klassan," replied another.
"Let the Committee decide," spoke up a third, which remark was received
with applause.
"Thank you, gentlemen, that is all," and with this Keith joined the men
who were waiting for him at the door.
As they passed out into the night, Caribou Sol dropped his head, and
his long beard was pressed close against his breast.
"Fool, fool, that I am!" he said to himself. "Why did I refuse to act
and thus leave 'im alone with that devil an' his tools? I might have
knowed it. I might have knowed it. Somethin' will happen. Somethin's
in the air. I don't know what it is, but when that sarpent gits to
wark thare's bound to be trouble. God fergive me!"