UNWELCOME VISITORS.
"I did think for a time that I should find my father and the nugget
together, and even gave it out among the sheep-and cattle-growers who
would listen to me," continued Elam, taking a few long pulls at his
pipe. "But I have since given that idea up. I didn't say anything to the
men hereabouts, for it kinder ran in my head after a while that they
thought I was luny on the subject; so I just kept my ideas to myself.
You see, the thing couldn't have gone through so many hands without my
hearing something of my father, but, search high or low, I never heared
a word about him. The old man is dead. He was killed when the robbers
made their assault on the train, and the nugget has been doing all this
of itself."
"All what of itself?" asked Tom.
"Why, it has been bobbing up and bobbing down," replied Elam. "One day
you know where it is, and by the time you get on the track of it it has
gone up, nobody knows where."
For a long time Tom did not say anything. The story seemed so real--as
real as that he was sitting on his couch of furs, with his feet tucked
under him, gazing hard into the fire. It did not seem possible that the
story could get abroad, and so many men believe it, and here this one
was known two hundred miles away. There must be something in it.
"Well," said Elam, "do you think I am crazy?"
"I don't know what to think," said Tom. "Such a story never got wind in
the settlements."
"Of course it didn't. There's a heap more things that happen out here
than you think for. There isn't one man in ten who would believe about
that ghost."
"No, sir," said Tom emphatically. "And I don't know what to believe
about it, either, and I have seen it. Are you going up there to that
pocket?"
"I am going to start day after to-morrow if you will show me the way.
When I strike the nugget, I will give you half."
The proposition almost took Tom's breath away. All that amount of money
for facing the Red Ghost! Now that he had got safely out of reach of it
and had heard so much about its going everywhere it pleased, here to-day
and a hundred miles away to-morrow, Tom was obliged to confess that
there was more of a ghost about it than he was at first willing to
suppose. But there was his horse with the broken lariat! No ghost could
do a thing like that.
"You see, I shall spend to-morrow in gathering in my traps," said Elam.
"I may not come back, you know, and I don't want to leave them out where
everybody can steal them, and when they are all in, I shall be ready to
start."
When Elam said this, Tom picked up a burned chunk, threw it on the fire,
and laid down again. If Elam thought he wasn't going to come back, what
was the use of his visiting the pocket? Tom had about concluded that he
would not go.
"No, I may not come back," said Elam, anxious that Tom should learn just
how desperate the undertaking was, "and while I don't want to have my
traps stolen, I want to leave them where someone can use them. Then I
will pack my spelter on my horse and go to the nighest post--it is just
a jump from here--and trade it off for provisions. We can easy get them
as far as here."
"Yes; but what will you do from here on? You won't have any bronco to
carry them for you."
"We will pack it on our backs. It's a poor hunter who can't go into the
woods and carry provisions enough for two weeks."
"And what if the Red Ghost appears? The first thing it will pitch into
will be ourselves. I don't think I will go. I have got all over
prospecting for gold, and wish that summer might come so that I can go
to work herding cattle."
"Well, I know what will happen to you then," said Elam.
"Well, what will happen to me then?" said Tom, after waiting for his
companion to finish what he had on his mind.
"You'll go plumb crazy; that's what will happen to you. You will be set
to riding the line----"
"What's that?" interrupted Tom.
"Why, riding up and down a fence, or rather where the fence ought to be,
to see that none of your cattle break away. It will take you two days to
make a trip, and you will get so tired of it that you will finally skip
out and leave the line to take care of itself. But all right. You go to
bed and sleep on it, and if it doesn't look better in the morning, I'll
say no more about it. I will go by myself."
With something like a sigh of regret Elam turned over and prepared to go
to sleep. There was no undressing, no handling of blankets, but just as
he was he was all ready to go to slumber. Tom felt sorry for him, and,
besides, he knew how Mr. Parsons and the cowboys would look upon such a
proceeding if it should once get to their ears. And he didn't see any
way to prevent it. If Elam's story was able to travel for two hundred
miles, the idea that he was afraid to face the Red Ghost would travel,
too, and then what would be his prospect of getting employment with Mr.
Parsons? And, besides, there was a chance for him to go "plumb crazy"
while riding the line and seeing that the cattle did not break through.
That was another thing that was against Tom.
"I am afraid I am unlucky, after all," thought he, once more arranging
his bunch of furs. "I am sent out into the mountains to prospect for
gold, when there isn't any gold in sight except what belongs to Elam,
here, and have the promise that when summer comes I shall be given a
chance." Then aloud: "Say, Elam, does a fellow have to ride this line at
first, and before he can call himself a full-fledged cowboy?"
"Sure," said Elam; "he must get used to everything that is done on the
ranch. He must begin at the lowest round of the ladder and work his way
up."
"Well," said Tom to himself, "I just aint a-going to do it. I'll just go
to sleep on it now, and if the thing looks better to me to-morrow than
it does to-night, I'll stick to your heels."
While Tom was thinking about it, he fell asleep. When he awoke the next
morning, it was broad daylight, but he was alone. Elam must have moved
with stealthy footsteps while he was getting breakfast; but there was
everything on the table just as he found it on the previous morning, and
the pictures which Elam had drawn, and which Tom had placed on the wall
so that they could be easily seen, had been taken down and put where he
had seen them the day before.
"I hope to goodness that I will get through with my sleep after a
while," thought Tom, as he proceeded to put on his moccasons. "He has
gone out to gather the rest of his traps, and I am left to decide
whether or not I will go with him. Well, I will go. If that fellow is
not afraid of the ghost, I'm not, either. I know it isn't a ghost, but
he thinks it is, and we'll see who will show the most pluck."
Tom went about his business with alacrity, and in an hour the breakfast
was eaten and the dishes put away. Then he had nothing to do but to cut
a supply of wood for Elam, though he didn't know how it was going to be
of any use to him, seeing that he was going to the mountains; but it was
better than sitting idle all day, and so Tom went at it, throwing the
wood as fast as he cut it in under the eaves of the cabin, where it
would be protected from the weather. At last the wood that was down was
all cut, and Tom, leaning on his axe with one hand, and scratching his
head with the other, was looking around to determine what tree ought to
come down next, when he happened to glance toward the path where it
emerged from the evergreens and ran up to the door of the house, and
discovered two men standing there with their arms at a ready. If they
had tried to come up under cover of his chopping they had succeeded
admirably. They might have approached close to him, and even laid hold
upon him, and Tom never would have known it until he found himself in
their grasp.
Of all the sorry-looking specimens that Tom had ever seen since he came
West these were the beat. Elam would have been ashamed to be seen in
their company. His clothes were whole and clean, while these men had
scarcely an article between them that was not in need of repairs. Their
hats, coats, and trousers ought long ago to have gone to the ragman; and
as for their boots--they had none, wearing moccasons instead. Tom felt
that something was going to happen. He knew he was growing pale, but
leaned with both hands upon his axe and tried not to show it.
"Howdy, pard?" said one of the men, looking all around.
"How are you?" said Tom.
He would have been glad to step into the cabin and get his rifle, but he
noticed that the men stood between him and the doorway.
"Whar's your pardner?" asked the man.
"He is around here somewhere," said Tom, shouldering his axe and
starting for the door. "What do you want?"
"I want to know if you have anything to eat? We have been out looking
for some steers that have broke away, and we've got kinder out of our
reckonin'."
"Who are you working for?"
"For ole man Parsons. Our horses got away from us, too, and didn't leave
us so much as a hunk of bacon."
"I don't believe a word of your story," said Tom, who knew from the
start that the man was lying. "But come in. I reckon Elam would give you
something if he was here, though, to tell you the truth, we haven't got
much."
"So Elam is your pardner, is he?"
"You seem to know him pretty well."
"Oh, yes. Elam and I have been hunting many a time."
"He's liable to come back at any minute," returned Tom, who wished there
was some truth in what he was saying. "He has just stepped out to look
at some traps. I don't see what keeps him so long, for of course you
will be glad to see him."
Tom had by this time got inside the cabin, closely followed by the two
men, who, he noticed, did not go very far from the door. One of them
hauled a stool up beside it and sat down where he could keep a close
watch on everything that went on outside, and the other kept so close to
Tom that the latter could not have used his axe if he had tried it. Tom
wanted to get his hands on his rifle, but one of the men had placed
himself directly in front of it so that his broad shoulders were between
him and the weapon. The men pushed back their hats and took a survey of
the interior of the cabin while Tom was getting down the side of bacon,
and finally one of them discovered the pile of wolf-skins which Elam had
tied up and left in the corner. With a smile and a muttered ejaculation
he walked over and examined it.
"Elam's at his ole tricks, aint he?" said he, after he had tested the
skins and tried to determine by the weight of them how many there were
in the package. "How many do you reckon he's got here? So many skins at
forty-five dollars apiece would be--how much would it be, Tender-foot?"
Tom was rather taken aback by this style of address. He had tried to
play himself off on the men as one to the manor born, but his language,
his dress, or something had given him away entirely. The man spoke to
him as if he was as well acquainted with his history as Elam was.
"I don't reckon we want anything to eat do we, Aleck?" continued the
man, lifting the bundle and carrying it back to the door with him. "If
you see anybody else coming along here that's hard up for grub----"
"Here--you!" exclaimed Tom, throwing down his axe and making an effort
to take the bundle from the man. "Put that down, if you know when you
are well off."
"If you know when you are well off, you will keep your hands to yourself
and sit down thar," said the man, and at the same time the one who had
been addressed as Aleck arose to his feet, cocking his rifle as he did
so. "Oh, you needn't call for Elam, 'cause we know where he is as well
as you do," he continued, as Tom thrust both men aside and started post
haste for the door. "Now, Tender-foot, just go and behave yourself. We
know that Elam has gone out to attend to his traps and won't be back
before night, and so we've got all the time we want. Sit down."
Tom saw it all now. The men had evidently watched Elam from the time he
started out, until they saw him pick up one trap and set out for
another, and had then made up their minds to rob him. They little
expected to find a tender-foot behind to watch his cabin, and had
consequently made up their story on the spur of the moment.
"Aleck, you will find your bundle over thar," said the man, "and there
are some otter-skins you can take, too. This rifle I will just take with
me and leave it agin some rocks out here whar you can easy find it. Mind
you, we haint done you no harm so far, but don't come nigh this rifle
under an hour. You hear me?"
Tom said nothing in reply. He watched Aleck as he picked up the other
bundle and otter-skins (he left the eighteen Elam had brought in the
night before, because they were not cured), flung them over his
shoulder, and joined his companion at the door, where the latter had
already taken charge of the rifle.
"You haint disremembered what I've told you?" he said, in savage tones.
"You come out in one hour and you can find the rifle; but you come out
before that time expires and ten to one but you will get a ball through
your head."
Tom still made no reply, and the robbers went out as noiselessly as they
had come in. He listened, but did not hear the snapping of a twig or the
swishing of bushes to prove that they had worked their way through the
thicket of evergreens to the natural prairie along which Elam was to
come.
"Well, now, I am beat," drawing a long breath of relief, thrusting his
feet out in front of him, and putting his hands into his pockets. "So it
seems that Elam isn't so very happy, after all, and that, no matter
where one gets, he's going to have trouble. Here he's been working like
a nailer for--I don't know how long he's been out here--until it seems
to me----What's that?" he added, as his feet came in contact with a
small buckskin bag which one of the robbers had dropped.
Tom bent over and saw that one side of the string was broken. The bag
had been tied around the man's neck, and had worked its way down until
it found an opening at the bottom of his trousers above his moccasons.
The man had never noticed it, and this was the first Tom had seen of it.
It was small, but it was well filled, and Tom began to look about for a
place to hide it.
"Let him take the skins if he wants to, and I'll take this," said he,
getting up and looking first into one place and then into another, and
making up his mind each time that that was a poor spot to hide things.
"He may miss it before he has gone a great ways, and I don't want him to
know that he has left that much behind. Just as soon as he goes away
I'll take it out and examine it."
Tom, who was not so badly frightened as some boys would have been, made
his way toward the door and finally went out, but could hear no signs of
the robbers. He removed some sticks from the pile of wood he had cut and
there placed the bag, covering it over as if nothing had been disturbed,
and then struck up a lively whistle and started down the path. The
robbers were not in sight, but there was Elam's horse just quenching his
thirst at the brook, and that proved that his companion had not been
stolen afoot, anyway.
"I'll be perfectly safe if I try to find the rifle now," said Tom, as he
began beating around through the bushes. "By George! I hope they haven't
carried the gun off with them. They couldn't, for their packs were too
heavy."
Here was a new apprehension, and it started Tom to work with increased
speed; and it was only after an hour's steady search that he found the
gun hidden where nobody would have thought of looking for it. It was
uninjured, and this made it plain that the only object the robbers had
in view was to rob Elam.
"They've got just sixteen skins or I'm mistaken," said Tom, shouldering
his recovered rifle and retracing his steps to camp. "Sixteen skins at
forty-five dollars would be worth seven hundred dollars and better.
That's quite a nice little sum to rake out before dinner. Now, my next
care is to examine that bag."
Arriving at the wood-pile, the bag was taken out and carried into the
cabin. Tom caught it by the bottom and emptied its contents on the
table, first taking care, however, to place his rifle across his knees,
where it could be seized in case of emergency. He was surprised at the
contents of the little bag. In the first place there was some money
tightly wrapped up in folds of buckskin, and when Tom unfolded it to see
how much there was, two yellow-boys rolled out.
"Hurrah! Here's something to pay for the stolen skins," said Tom, and,
hastily putting the money into his pocket, he caught up his rifle and
hastened out of doors to listen for some sounds of the returning
robbers. Everything was silent. The men were gone, and Tom had nothing
to do but to examine the bag in peace.
"I am glad they didn't do anything more," thought he, as he went in and
seated himself at the table. "If they had wanted to do mischief, they
might have pulled a chunk from the fire and set the whole thing to
going, but instead of doing that they just contented themselves with
robbing us. Forty dollars. Where did they get it? Two gold eagles and
bills enough to make up the balance. Here's tobacco enough to last both
of them a week; needles and thread, so it don't seem to me that they
ought to have been satisfied to go around with their jackets full of
holes, as I saw them, and----What's this? It's something pretty
precious, I guess, because it is wrapped up tightly."
It was a small parcel tied up in buckskin that caught Tom's eye just
then. It was so neatly wrapped up in numerous folds that by the time Tom
got them unfolded he fully expected to find some quartz or some more
gold pieces; but when he brought it to light, there was nothing but a
little piece of paper, with ordinary lines drawn upon it. Did he throw
it away? He spread it out upon the table as smoothly as he could, and
set to work to study out the problem presented to him. One thing was
plain to him: the line which ran up the middle, paying no attention to
other lines which came into it at intervals, was a gully. Right ahead it
went until it branched off in two places, and there it stopped. What did
it mean?
"It means something, as sure as I am a foot high," said Tom, settling
back in his chair and holding the paper up before him. "There is
something buried there, and how did these people come by it? I guess
that Elam had better see that."
Filled with excitement, Tom bundled the things back into the bag, and
put the bag into his pocket, wondering what sort of history those two
men had passed through. Did they know anything about the nugget? The
idea was ridiculous, simply because there were some marks on a paper
which he did not understand.
"There was only one of them who escaped with the nugget, and he buried
it within ten miles of the fort," said Tom. "And Elam says, further,
that he was so sick and tired when he was relieved that he could not
draw a map to lead anyone to it. No matter; there's something there, and
I am in hopes it will----By George! they are coming back."
There was no doubt about it, and he might have heard them before if he
had not been so busy with his reflections. He listened and could hear
them tramping through the bushes, and all on a sudden one raised his
voice and called out to the other, who was evidently behind him:
"I tell you he's got it. If I don't get it back, I am ruined!"
"That means me," thought Tom.
For an instant Tom stood irresolute, and then the idea came upon him
that he wasn't going to be imposed upon in this way any longer. He moved
across the floor with long strides, took down his revolver and put it
into his pocket and moved out of the door, pulling it to after him. The
men were close upon him. He heard them coming along the path as he
slipped around the corner of the cabin and into the bushes.