FACING THE NEW SITUATION.
Sandy’s partners, meanwhile, having left the village as early as
possible, had made so good progress that the three met at about the
half-way point.
“Hello!” Len sang out gaily, as he caught sight of Sandy, “here’s our
canny Scot! But why makest thou such a walking arsenal of thyself?
’Fraid of Injuns?”
“Weel,” was the slow reply, as the tall son of Saint Andrew glanced down
at himself, “he needs a long shankit spoon wha sups kail wi’ the deil.
I’m no likin’ neeknames as a rule, but may be ye’re no far wrang when
you ca’ me an arsenal. Did ye obsairve the new trick I’ve learned?”
Stooping down, while the twinkle in his eyes belied the gravity of his
face, he solemnly pulled from his boot-leg the long butcher-knife with
which the boys were wont to slice their bacon.
This was too much. Both tumbled upon the nearest bed of moss and made
the rocky walls ring with shouts of laughter, but Sandy remained as
grave as an undertaker.
“Laugh at leisure, ye may greet ere e’en,” he said in his proverbial
style, adding, when they had checked their merriment, “Now if you’re
wantin’ to hear a vera pretty tale, why I’m willin’ to tell ye, though
you’ve not been ower respectfu’ to a puir body during the last five
minutes or so.”
“Oh, go on Sandy, go on. We don’t mind you’re making yourself a scalp
hunter from the wild west, if you like it. Go on, let’s have your story.
What sort of a mare’s nest have you found this time?”
“I’m not sure ye quite heard my remark aboot bein’ respectfu’; an’ if I
ha’ foond a mare’s nest, I’m thinking ye’ll find yoursel’ unco
eenterested in the aiggs.”
After this parting shot Sandy began to tell what he had seen and heard,
as he lay on the edge of the cliff. Two of the men he knew, as we have
seen, and his description of the third at once identified him in the
minds of the rest as Old Bob.
“So that’s where you learned to carry a knife in your boot is it?”
“Ay,” admitted Sandy, “That’s where I learned it. I was tickled, dinna
ye ken, wi’ the idea that a man like him, hating me as he did, should be
teachin’ me sumthin’.”
“But that’s no way to carry a knife,” Max interrupted with fine
contempt. “At least no gentleman would do so, though a gambler might.”
“How then?” asked Sandy, considerably crest-fallen. “Where does a
_gentleman_ usually carry his bowie-knife?”
“Down the back of his neck.”
“Weel, weel, what would my old grandmither up in Dundee say to that!
This is what I’m thinkin’ she would remark, that a wise man gets
learnin’ frae them that has nane to themsel’s.”
This ten-strike scored to Scotch credit, they settled down again to
their study of the new situation, the full meaning of which grew upon
them as they talked it over.
“It strikes me,” said Sandy, “that it wad be a gude thing if Bushwick
were to go directly back to town and see that Mr. Morris. Perhaps,
considerin’ a’ the saircumstances, he would watch the rascals a wee bit.
I suppose he’s na ower-fond o’ that blackleg, and maybe he wad come up
on Saturday night, and so gie us a bit o’ help if we happened to be
needin’ it. Meanwhile Brehm an’ mysel’ will put our castle in a state o’
defense, as it were.”
This course was decided upon. Len unslung his load of groceries,
ammunition, the ever-welcome mail, and other purchases, and it was
shouldered by Sandy, who gave him in return one of his pistols. Then Len
started back toward town, caring little for the extra walk.
The other two lads meanwhile hastened home, busily talking as they
strode along.
Max recounted how Lennox had secured an entirely unbiased judgment from
the old miner, who had assured them positively that the brown stuff
which had been so long the object of their attention was certainly a
telluride ore of gold, and apparently a rich one.
“Ay, that sounds well,” Sandy assented, “but can you be quite certain
this Professor, as you dub him, kens well what he’s talkin’ aboot?”
“I think he does,” Max assured his friend, and gave his reason.
“But how has it escaped notice heretofore?” the Scotchman persisted.
“It’s an extremely uncommon ore in northern Colorado, where most of the
mining has been done up to this time, and few of our citizens have ever
seen it. Moreover, I suppose the early prospectors here were looking
wholly for chlorides, or sulphurets, or ruby silver, or some other well
known ores of that sort, and this is like none of these, or any other
silver indication I know of. But if they had gone a little deeper, I am
inclined to think they’d have found plenty of that, too, and
consequently, that we would never have got possession of this prospect
hole.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Oh, I judge so from the way the rock looks.”
“Then you think we may strike a silver ore in addition to this telluride
of gold?”
“Don’t know, can’t see into the ground further’n your pick-point. Sorry
I didn’t get a letter from the Denver assayer, to whom we sent our
specimens for analysis. I expected to have heard from him by this time.”
As they neared the house they fell to discussing what it would be best
to do toward preparing for their unwelcome visitors. Sandy asked why
they could not have Old Bob and his crew arrested, whereupon Max
explained the loose condition of legal matters in that country, and that
they had no ground to stand a trial upon. Sandy had no witnesses to
threats he had heard. They could not legally prevent any one from going
on the Aurora dump, or into the Aurora tunnel, or even from staying in
it, since it was not their property, and they themselves were there only
by permission. This gave them no rights which they could defend without
blame.
“But we have such rights in the Last Chance premises,” Sandy persisted,
“and can protect that?”
“Yes, but in this region it would be a poor plan to call in the sheriff,
at any rate before we’re attacked; and when the attack comes on I reckon
the sight of that knife-handle sticking out of your boot-leg will keep
’em off better than all the sheriffs in the San Juan. By the way, I can
find a second bowie for the other boot if you want it!”
“Not this moment, thank’ee. Then as I understand, you mean to let ’em
take the Aurora, but you’ll fight for the Last Chance and the cabin, our
hearthstone, as it were?”
“Yes, I don’t see what else we can do. It would be difficult to defend
both if we tried, and when they get possession of the Aurora I fancy
they wont go to any great trouble or risk to wrest this from us. You see
they believe it is the Aurora we are working and that there the riches
lie. I don’t believe they have a hint of the cross-cut or the real state
of things, do you?”
“Not to judge by what I overheard yesterday. But once they get
possession of the Aurora entrance, wont they be able to find it all out
in a few minutes, and seize on the cross-cut and the new work? Our army
is rather sma’ to garrison the mine-chamber and the cabin too; besides,
how can we get in or out, if they hauld the entrance? I’m ’fraid, my
friend, ye’re biting off mair than your cheeks’ll hold.”
“Not at all. Come with me and I’ll show you how I mean to begin a flank
movement on the enemy.”
PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.