COINCIDENCE
For a minute Ruth sat staring at the girl, wondering whether she
might believe the evidence of her ears.
“Did you say Mary Chase?” she queried finally. “Are you sure? Oh, I
don’t mean that, my dear!” she added quickly, as the faces of both
girls expressed surprise and wonderment. “I was only thinking that my
falling into that hole back yonder might have some purpose after all!”
The girls looked more bewildered than before and Mary said slowly:
“I don’t believe we quite understand you.”
“Of course you don’t,” replied Ruth, and drew her chair a little
closer to the sisters. “Now listen, my dears, and I will tell you of
an extraordinary coincidence.”
While they listened in a wondering silence Ruth told them of her
meeting with their father’s friend, Mr. Knowles, and that he had
explained to her a great deal concerning them, including their fight
with the rascals who were attempting to get hold of their property.
“It’s wonderful—your knowing all about us!” said Ellen, in her eager,
shy voice. “Then that makes us—” she hesitated, then finished with a
blush at her boldness, “not really strangers after all.”
“It ought to make us the best of friends,” said Ruth heartily, and it
struck at her warm heart to see how the two girls brightened at her
words.
“Mr. Knowles has been here,” Mary volunteered.
A look of doubt and sadness came into her eyes as she added:
“He is very good, but I’m afraid he won’t be able to help us very
much. He seemed more bewildered than we are when we tried to explain
to him. I don’t know—I don’t know,” in a half-whisper, as though she
were speaking to herself, “what is going to become of us!”
Ruth leaned toward the girl impulsively.
“Don’t you think you could trust me enough to tell me about it,
Mary?” she said. “I don’t know that I should understand any better
than Mr. Knowles. But I should like to try.”
“You are very good!” said Mary, reaching out a hand to Ruth.
“Indeed you are!” said Ellen. “It is so long,” she added softly,
“since we have had another woman to talk to.”
“It is that man Lieberstein who is making all the trouble,” said
Mary, her face flushing with indignation as she mentioned the name of
her enemy. “He says he located the claim before Dad did.”
“Which is perfectly silly!” Ellen broke in swiftly. “He never came
here until after Dad had taken out his papers and started to work the
mine.”
“Have you the papers?” asked Ruth quickly.
Mary looked nervously about her as though even then she was afraid of
being spied upon.
“We have them, yes,” she half-whispered, and for a moment there stole
into her face a look of grim resolution that made her look many years
older. “And we are going to keep them. One of us,” with swift glance
toward her sister, “is always awake when the other sleeps. We still
have Dad’s shotgun, you see,” she added swiftly.
“You see we are trying to work the mine ourselves,” Ellen
volunteered. She spoke as casually as though operating a mine were an
ordinary occupation for young women of sixteen and twenty-one. “Old
Eddie Jones is trying to help us, and two other miners that used to
be friends of father’s.”
“We would do very well, too,” said Mary quickly, and Ruth liked the
determined gleam in her eyes, “if it wasn’t for that old cave-in. We
have to dig down through a lot of dirt and rock before we can reach
gold. It’s pretty slow going,” she added simply, “if you haven’t the
right kind of equipment.”
Ruth frowned with quick pity. She was silent for a moment, thinking
deeply.
“You are afraid this man, Lieberstein, will get hold of your father’s
papers and then lay claim to the mine?” she asked.
“Yes; and he will do it if he can,” returned Mary. “When we both have
to be away from the cabin we leave one of the old prospectors here to
guard the papers.”
“Just what have you to prove your claim?” asked Ruth.
“A map of the mine and signed papers proving that Dad was really the
one who staked the claim,” said Mary. “We keep them all in—” she
paused while the slow color flooded her face.
Ruth never knew how near Mary had come to revealing the secret to her
of the real hiding place of her dead father’s precious papers. But
Mary suspected Max Lieberstein, and so was suspicious of every one
else. Now, to cover her confusion, she said, with a grim little smile:
“You see, if we lose the papers we lose everything. And that’s why
we keep Dad’s shotgun always handy!”
“Who is this Lieberstein, anyway?” asked Ruth suddenly. “Where does
he come from?”
“Dawson City,” answered Ellen.
“I wish he were back there now!” cried Mary, speaking with a swift,
passionate rush of words. “I wish I had some way of sending him back
so that he would never, never dare come here again!”
“He is close by, then?” It was more a statement than a question.
Mary nodded.
“He stays at The Big Chance at Knockout Point,” she said.
“The Big Chance is run by a new man,” Ellen contributed, with
apparent irrelevance. “His name is Sol Bloomberg.”
Ruth rose from her chair so swiftly that it overturned and went
clattering on the bare board floor. She caught Mary by the shoulders
and shook her, scarcely knowing what she did.
“Sol Bloomberg!” she cried. “Proprietor of The Big Chance! Oh, this
is too much! I can’t believe it!”