party. What'll we call it? Grizzly? Lucky Bullet?"
They were so busy searching and gloating that they had forgotten the
pack animals below and even the whereabouts of the men of the party.
On a sudden, as if replying to Charley's queries, Billy cried out
excitedly:
"Somebody else has been up here! Here's a little pile of loose rock,
and a stake with a board sign on it, that says----shucks. Can't quite
make it out. Come on and help me."
Over scrambled Charley, to where Billy was crouching and peering at a
weathered board set up in a shallow hollow. Billy's voice rang
triumphantly.
"'Golden West,' it says. 'Golden West Mine.' And----'I lay claim to
as much of this lode running east and west as is allowed by miners'
law. Tom Jones. August 22, 1848.'"
"Golden West!" exclaimed Charley, crashing and sliding to Billy's side.
"Hurrah! That's the mine we've been looking for, Billy! It's our
mine. It's the one----"
"That's where you're mistaken, bub," interrupted a new voice, speaking
cold and distinctly. "Now you pile out of there, and git! Don't come
back again, either."
Looking up, startled (as did Billy likewise), Charley faced the
long-nosed man and his two companions gazing in upon them, over the
brushy rim of the hollow and the muzzles of three guns.
XXI
MINERS' JUSTICE
"No talk, now," continued the long-nosed man, with a hard smile
slightly curving his thin black moustache. "Drop that rifle, you other
kid. Back up the side of that hollow, both of you, and scoot. You're
in the wrong pew. This happens to be _our_ claim. See?"
Billy was so surprised and bewildered at the sudden attack that he
simply couldn't say a word. He only looked, with mouth open, at
Charley; and then at the men. He and Charley slowly backed away, up
the other slope of the hollow. Charley saw that the three men were
breathing hard, as if they had just arrived, in a hurry. He was so mad
that he, too, scarcely could speak.
"'T isn't either your mine," he retorted hotly. "That's a lie, and you
know it. You're only trying to steal it. It was given to me, and
we've found it again, and we can prove it. You wait till we get our
crowd."
The three behind the gun-muzzles laughed.
"The best thing for your crowd to do is to stay out of shooting
distance," answered the long-nosed man. "We've got the mine, and the
documents to prove it's ourn. Those are two p'ints hard to beat, bub."
"You haven't any right, just the same," retorted Charley, furious.
"You stole those papers, but you needn't think you can steal the mine.
You wait."
"We'll wait," said the long-nosed man, grimly.
"Come on," bade Charley, choking with wrath and almost with tears, to
the astonished Billy. "Let's get our animals and find our partners.
Those fellows needn't think they can bluff _us_."
"Who are they, anyhow?" gasped Billy, as he and Charley went plunging
down the ridge. "Is that their mine? Did they put that sign up? I
thought we found it. We were there first, weren't we?"
"It's a long story, Billy; I'll tell you later," panted Charley,
hurrying. "But it's our mine, all right--same one that was given to
dad and me last spring. Remember I spoke about it? And we're going to
have it, too. Come on."
"And I'm going to have my rifle. They needn't think they can keep
that, either," uttered Billy, waxing pugnacious.
"I see the rest of 'em," announced Charley.
"They're making for the pack animals." And there, threading their way
through the brush near the foot of the ridge, beyond the burro and the
horse, were the figures of Mr. Adams and Mr. Walker and the tall
Frémonter. A fourth figure was with them--he looked like a miner.
Charley and Billy waved and shouted, and hurried.
"Hello! Were you doing that shooting?" demanded Charley's father, as
they approached. "What did you see?"
"A big bear," wheezed Charley. "But we found the mine--the Golden
West. And the long-nosed man took it away from us."
"There are three of 'em," joined in Billy. "They pointed guns at us
and made us get out."
"Where?"
"Up there on top of the ridge. Billy's bullet knocked out a piece of
gold quartz--see?" and Charley extended the fragment that he had been
clutching tightly. "Then Billy found a sign that said 'Golden West'
and is signed by Tom Jones, for a claim; and when we were looking at it
that Jacobs gang surprised us and told us to 'git.' Let's go back up
there. They made Billy leave his gun, too."
The four men uttered exclamations, while looking at each other; Mr.
Grigsby thoughtfully stroked his beard, and gazed at the crest of the
ridge. Charley was certain that the heads of the Jacobs party were
peeking over the brush, there.
The piece of quartz passed around, and was examined. Most excited of
all seemed to be the miner--for he certainly was a miner--who had been
added to the party: a short, heavy-set man, very shaggy and
weather-worn. He carried knife and pistol, and appeared to be good
reinforcement.
"Did you get that up on that hill?" he demanded. "How much more is
there of it? It's gold quartz, sure as shootin'--an' plaguey rich.
Say--I want some o' that, myself. Hooray! Come on, all o' ye, 'fore
the news gets out. You're fust, I'm second."
"You say you found the Golden West mine, and the Jacobs party ran you
out, Charley?" asked Mr. Adams.
"Yes, sir. Didn't we, Billy?" And Billy nodded.
"Are they up there now?"
"Yes, sir. See 'em. They've got guns, too, besides Billy's."
"Looks as though we were in for a fight, then; eh, Grigsby?" remarked
Mr. Adams, flushing. "We'll not stand to be robbed in any such
fashion. Let's go and see what they have to say."
"The way I size those gentry up," said Mr. Grigsby, "they're there and
we're here, and they won't let us get much closer. Maybe we can starve
'em out, though," and he surveyed the ridge.
"I'm with you, in anything you want to do," spoke Mr. Walker. "How
many are there? Three?"
"Jumped yore claim, have they?" asked the miner.
"They certainly have."
"You're shore it's yourn?"
"We can prove it."
"Then best thing you can do is to prove it to the boys at Rough an'
Ready," pursued the miner. "Thar's been too much claim-jumpin', in
this valley; no-one's property is safe, by thunder. You come along to
Rough an' Ready, an' we'll see if 't isn't time for law an' order to
take a hand in this game. Yore claim won't peter out while you're
gone--not if it's any good; an' whilst I believe in fightin' when you
have to, thar's no use sheddin' blood if thar's an easier way 'round to
get the same thing."
"What do you say?" invited Mr. Adams, of the two other men. As for
Charley, he saw that his father was ready to fight or not; he wasn't
afraid, was this tall, soldierly veteran who had served with Scott in
Mexico.
"I prefer getting our rights without any blood on them, if we can, of
course," answered Mr. Walker. "I hate to start in in a new country
with a fight of any kind. But you can count on me, whatever you decide
to do."
"Let's try miners' law, first, then," spoke Mr. Grigsby, shortly. "If
that doesn't help, we'll have to protect ourselves the next best way,
even to shooting. But our rights we'll have, or bust."
"Very well," said Mr. Adams. "Rough and Ready's four miles. I'll take
the boys, so they can tell their story, and our friend here; and you
and Walker stay with the animals and keep an eye on the ridge. We'll
be back as soon as we can. Come on, lads," and away he strode, with
the miner, and with Charley and Billy working hard to keep up.
They passed between the Golden West ridge and another, and emerged into
a wide pleasant valley which the miner said was called Grass Valley.
Down the valley they hastened, and in about an hour the miner, who
acted as guide, pointed ahead, with the remark:
"Thar's Rough an' Ready--the best camp in the hills. Now we'll see
what's what."
Miners were busily at work, digging and heaping piles of dirt from the
ravines and the flats; and before, against a hill slope, partly in the
pines and partly in the open, were tents and huts. As they hustled up,
the miner was greeted right and left.
"Hello, Eph. What's your hurry?"
"Injuns after you?"
"What's the news from yonder?"
"Thought you'd left the country."
"How are things at your diggin's?"
"Cleaned up your pile already?"
"By the way you're travelin' you must have made a strike, or else
you're after grub!"
"Strike!" growled Eph. "You bet thar is, an' somethin' to pay, too.
Come on, you fellows. I want everybody in the camp. We're goin' to
hold a regular town meetin'."
Rough and Ready was another conglomeration of tents new and old, bough
lean-tos, and shacks covered with canvas. In front of a tent labeled,
rudely: "New York Generul Store," Eph halted and uttered a resounding
whoop. The miners began to gather; there were other whoops, and
cheers, and the gay beating of gold pans, like gongs, until it seemed
as though the whole camp was on hand. A booted, whiskered, "rough and
ready" crowd they made, too.
"Well, Eph, what's the trouble? Somebody got the dead-wood on you?"
demanded a strapping big miner in torn red shirt and prodigious boots.
He seemed to be a sort of a leader.
"These boys and I----" began Mr. Adams; but Eph interrupted.
"I'll do the talkin', fust. You save yore powder. This gentleman an'
these two lads belong to a party I met up with at t'other end the
valley. They were prospectin' for a claim they'd heared of. The two
boys located it atop a ridge, yon, an' as I understand, they were
actually on the ground, sizin' it up, when another party jumped 'em, at
the p'int o' guns made 'em vamoose, an' proceeded to hold down the
claim themselves. Show yore sample, boys. What do you think o' that,
men?"
Charley handed out the sample. As it passed around among the craning
heads and hairy fists, it created tremendous excitement.
"Whar'd you get it?"
"Gold quartz, or I'm a sinner!"
"That'll run a thousand dollars to the pan, I bet ye."
"Hooray for the new diggin's! Come on, fellows. I'm off."
"Hold on, thar," bade the red-shirted man, stopping what would have
been a stampede. "That doesn't settle the matter. Eph, here, has
called a meetin' for a purpose; haven't you, Eph?"
"You're talkin'," assured Eph. "It's time claim-jumpin' 'round these
diggin's has got to stop. If this gentleman can prove up for his party
that they've fust rights to that discivvery, we ought to go back thar
an' show those other fellows that Rough an' Ready is takin' a stand for
law an' order."
"Hooray!" cheered the crowd, which seemed ripe for anything new.
"You say you've got fust location on that quartz claim?" inquired the
red-shirted man, of Mr. Adams.
"Yes, sir," replied Charley's father, promptly. "By two reasons. It
was given us by the former owner, in St. Louis; and these boys, who are
partners in our party, found it again on their own hook."
"What might be the name of that claim, then, stranger, if it was given
to you?" asked somebody else.
"The Golden West," answered Mr. Adams. "It was given to us by a man
whom we befriended in St. Louis. We had the documents to prove it, but
they were stolen by the very gang who drove the boys away. Even that
doesn't matter, though, for they found it, stake and all, and----"
"What did you say the name is?" demanded half a score of voices.
"The Golden West."
"Fetch the woman," cried the voices, now; and the demand rose to a
clamor: "Fetch the woman."
The crowd laughed and jostled expectantly; and presently they parted,
to give passage to a young woman, ceremoniously conducted by two of the
miners, their hats off. And who should follow her, but Mr. Motte--the
young man who had been left behind at Panama!
"Strangers," announced the red-shirted spokesman for the camp, to Mr.
Adams, "if you've found the Golden West, here's the owner of it, an' I
reckon she'll thank you for your trouble. The hull camp's' back of
her, so you'd better talk peaceable. Ain't that so, boys?"
"You bet!" came the resounding cheer.
"Well, if that's the case, of course----" said Mr. Adams, uncertainly,
removing his hat, while the young woman, in sunbonnet and neat calico
dress, appeared much embarrassed. Charley and Billy stood with mouth
open at the unexpected turn of events. But Mr. Motte pressed forward,
extending glad hand.
"Hello," spoke Mr. Adams. "How'd you get here?" He shook hands with
Mr. Motte, and so did Charley, and so did Billy, although he didn't
know exactly why.
"Yes, sir, here I am, thanks to your ticket. And here's my wife, too.
This is the gentleman who gave me the ticket from Panama, Mary."
"Hooray!" cheered the ready miners.
"How long have you been here?" asked Mr. Adams.
"Two or three days. I've been laid up (and indeed he looked thin), but
I'm all right now. The camp's been mighty kind to us. They tell me
you've found the Golden West quartz claim. Is that so?"
"Yes, sir. These boys found it; three rascals who have dogged us from
New Orleans (one of them clear from St. Louis), have jumped it. Now I
understand you or your wife have prior rights to it. How about that,
sir?"
"To tell the truth, I think that probably we have," answered Mr. Motte;
"but you shan't lose out, anyway. Not after you helped me along the
way you did, with that ticket. No, sir. Shall he, Mary?" And the
young woman shook her head. Mr. Motte continued, while the camp
listened intently. "As I've explained to these men my uncle--or my
wife's uncle, rather, whose name was Tom Jones--wrote us a letter last
year telling us to come out and giving us the Golden West quartz claim
that he had just located in this region, somewhere. He said it was a
bonanza, with plenty for all. The letter didn't get to us for six
months, and that's the last we heard from him, though we wrote him we
were coming as soon as we could. I've the letter, as this camp knows."
"You're talkin'," approved the crowd, emphatically.
"So, thanks to you, sir, we got this far, and then we ran up against
the fact that nobody seemed to know anything about a Golden West quartz
claim. My uncle was in the diggings early, and he prospected alone,
evidently, and nobody knew him, except a few people remembered his
name--and one man did recollect something about a quartz claim from
which there were samples. My uncle was a queer, quiet sort of a
man--never talked much."
"Let the stranger tell his story, now," bade the red-shirt.
So Mr. Adams did, from the beginning in St. Louis, to the apparent end
here; and he concluded:
"Your right to the mine evidently is prior to ours, sir, and we
wouldn't think of contesting it--especially not with a woman," and he
bowed to Mrs. Motte, who flushed, ill at ease among all these men.
"You're O. K.!" approved the crowd. "Especially not with a woman, you
say; an' with the only woman in Rough an' Ready. Hooray!"
"But you've made a long trip," protested young Mr. Motte, also
flushing. "You've found the claim for us, and if it hadn't have been
for you I might have been in Panama yet, either alive or dead. So I
don't agree----"
"Let's act fust an' talk afterward," interrupted the red-shirt. "Fust
thing is to oust those thar claim-jumpers yonder, for the good of the
camp, an' to put the little lady in possession. Get yore tools an'
weapons, boys, an' come on."
With a great shout the crowd rushed hither-thither; and away they all
went, streaming through the valley, laden with picks and spades and
crow-bars and guns, hustling Mr. and Mrs. Motte and Mr. Adams and
Charley and Billy along in their midst. They acted like a lot of
school-boys on a frolic, but there was an undercurrent of earnestness.
To the three men on the ridge it must have looked as though an army was
advancing; and Charley could see Mr. Walker and the Frémonter staring
from their posts whence they were keeping watch on the claim. Well,
this was pretty tough: to have traveled clear from St. Louis, and spent
a lot of money, and acted honestly all the way through; and then only
to have put somebody else in possession of the mine.
"Thar's the place--straight ahead on top the ridge," directed the miner
Eph, who was leading with the red-shirt. And following these two, up
the slope trooped the company.
The heads of the three men in the hollow poked up over the rim, as
their owners surveyed, probably in amazement, the onslaught. The
muzzles of the guns protruded, also, but the big red-shirt made no
account of them.
"Come out o' thar!" he roared, in a voice that might have been heard a
mile. "Drop those weapons; they'll do you no good. So come out o'
thar, an' come quick. Don't you know enough to make room for a lady?"
Up slowly rose the long-nosed man, and emerged, glowering but
weaponless, his hands in the air; and emerged likewise his two
partners. The long-nosed man tried to bluff his way.
"What's the meaning of this attack?" he demanded. "Where's your
warrant for it? Would you drive three honest men off ground to which
they've got rights according to evidence? Won't you consider our
documents in this matter?"
"Shot-gun rights don't go any longer in Grass Valley, mister," roared
the red-shirt. "If you'd had the right sort o' rights you'd have
proved 'em peaceable. Besides, with yore docyments--which you
stole--you're barkin' up the wrong tree. Here's the true an'
ondisputed owner of this claim--the heiress of the Golden West, not to
speak of bein' the only woman in this district an' entitled to the best
that goes. See? Get down in thar, lady; Eph, you do yoreself the
honor of escortin' her, an' read what it says on that thar stake. If
it says Golden West an' is signed Tom Jones, that settles the matter,
pronto."
"But the claim was abandoned. It hasn't been worked for a year," spoke
up one of the long-nosed man's companions.
"Then you lose out thar, too, stranger," retorted the red-shirt.
"'Cause in that case, barrin' better rights, it belongs to these two
boys by right o' rediscivvery. So don't argue with me; I'm a reg'lar
lawyer in argufyin'."
The miner Eph had very politely helped the little woman to the stake,
and stooping had traced with his gnarled finger the words on the notice.
"This is the claim," he announced. "Shore as shootin'."
"Hooray!" cheered the Rough and Ready crowd. Said the red-shirt, to
the Jacobs trio: "You git! An' I app'int the camp o' Rough an' Ready,
here assembled, as a committee of the whole to see that you do git.
Don't you stop till you're so far you'll never come back. But fust
shell out those dockyments, and be quick."
"Look here. I----" attempted the long-nosed man; but he was
interrupted.
"Shell 'em out!" roared red-shirt, advancing a step.
Without a word Mr. Jacobs looked at his companions; and as if in answer
to his unspoken appeal one of them (Charley tried hard to compare him
with the stranger aboard the _California_) extracted from a pocketbook
the well-remembered slips, and tossed them aside, to the ground.
Charley daringly darted forward and picked them up. Billy followed and
rescued his rifle.
"Are those the same?" queried red-shirt, of Charley.
"Yes, sir."
"All right. Now," repeated red-shirt, to the Jacobs trio, "you git, as
aforesaid."
That the long-nosed man and his two cronies had guilty consciences was
very plain, for replying by naught (and rather white in the face at the
threatening advance of several Rough and Ready-ites) they backed away,
down the other side of the ridge; at a little distance they shook their
fists and yelped something, but they kept on going, so long as Charley
looked. They had left not only Billy's gun, but their own guns also.
Young Mrs. Motte now was speaking, and so was her husband.
"It isn't fair," she declared bravely. "This gentleman and his two
boys found the claim, again, and have given it up without a word, after
all their trouble; and they took care of my uncle, and it looks as
though he intended them to have the claim, as much as us."
"He certainly intended them to have some of it----" added her husband.
"More likely he thought that you hadn't got his letter, and for that
reason gave us a chance," put in Mr. Adams, quickly.
"But I owe you the mine, anyway," insisted Mr. Motte. "Your ticket
from Panama was what brought me to San Francisco."
"The whole thing's soon settled," boomed the big red-shirt. "I app'int
myself chairman of this here town meetin' of the new camp of Gold Hill
(the same which is the name of this ridge)----"
"Hooray for Gold Hill!" cheered the miners.
"An' I further app'int Eph Saunders clerk, to record the minutes when
he gets whar thar's somethin' to record with. I'll make the motions,
too, if thar's no objection. I move that it be the sense of this camp
that the little woman, here, an' her husband, by name o' Motte, be
declared legal owners of the Golden West quartz claim, extendin' 100
feet, both sides of the claim stake, followin' the main lode an'
includin' all dips an' angles an' spurs whatsoever; the same bein'
really two claims, one by 'heritance an' one for luck."
"I second the motion," yelled everybody.
"Moved an' seconded. All in favor can say 'aye.'"
"Aye."
"Next I move it be the sense of this here camp," continued the
chairman, "that in consideration of this gentleman an' party havin'
sartin rights o' rediscivvery in the Golden West claim, an' havin' sort
o' defeated themselves 'cause they were kind to a young feller down at
Panama, an' havin' acted mighty white since they've been in these
diggin's, they be allowed next ch'ice o' claims, to the extent o' one
hundred an' fifty feet along the main lode, on both side o' the Golden
West, bein' 300 feet o' claims in all."
"Second the motion."
"Motion bein' seconded, all in favor say 'aye.' An' I hope no citizen
of this camp'll be so dogged mean as to say anything else."
"Aye," pealed the lusty chorus.
Mr. Adams tried to speak; Charley and Billy looked at one another and
grinned. And Billy waved at his father and Mr. Grigsby, who had
pressed up the hill to learn what was going on.
"The motion bein' carried unanimous, the chair app'ints the indivijools
known as Pike and Dutch to pace off the aforesaid distances, as close
as they can, an' mark the ends."
While everybody gravely watched, the two miners designated paced off
the 100 feet, on either side of the stake, along the ridge, and again
the 150 feet, further. They hastily marked the distances and returned.
"There bein' no other bus'ness before the meetin'," shouted red-shirt,
"I declare it hereby dissolved--an' every man for himself. Stake yore
claims, boys, while thar are any!"
Away he jumped, and away broke all. With shouts and cheers and
laughter the whole hill was covered, in an incredibly short time, with
men picking and digging and peering and driving their stakes or piling
up stones.
XXII
THE BEST OF ALL
Mr. Grigsby and Billy's father had arrived in time to hear as well as
to see the outcome of the adventure on the newly-named Gold Hill.
Watching the retreat of the Jacobs party, Mr. Grigsby, leaning on his
rifle, laughed shortly.
"They got off easy," he said, in grim manner. "Let me see the map,
boy."
"That smudgy place does look like a 'G. W.'," asserted Charley, passing
the paper over. "Anyway, it looks as much like 'G. W.' as it does like
'G. H.'"
And so it did. However, that mattered little now, and the feebly
scrawled assignment of the Golden West claim also was of small
importance; for the Golden West had been found at last, and everything
had turned out all right. Here on Gold Hill, as at the Shirt-tail
Diggin's, "the goose hung high."
Now, with everybody busy, it remained to develop the Golden West lode,
which under the hurried operations of the bevy of workers could be
traced for a mile.
"I suppose," remarked Charley's father, "that the next thing for us to
do is to form a company and to lay plans for development, and to name
our property."
"If your party have no objections," spoke young Mr. Motte, hesitantly,
coming forward, "my wife and I would be very willing to combine our
claim with yours, under the name Golden West, and work all together.
We are able to do our part, of course."
Certainly there were no objections. Thus the agreement was drawn up,
and the Golden West Mining Company was formed from the two parties.