CLAUS, AGAIN.
"There!" said Mr. Solomon Claus, as he entered at a fast walk the
railroad depot, passed through it, and took up the first back street
that he came to; "I guess I have got rid of him. Now, the next thing
is to go somewhere and sit down and think about it."
Claus kept a good watch of the buildings as he passed along, and at
last saw a hotel, into which he turned. He bought a cigar at the bar,
and, drawing a chair in front of one of the windows, sat down to
meditate on his future course; for this German was not in the habit of
giving up a thing upon which he had set his mind, although he might
fail in every attempt he undertook. He had set his heart upon having a
portion of that money that Julian had come into by accident, and,
although something had happened to upset his calculations, he was not
done with it yet.
"That was a sharp trick, sending off the box by express, when they
might as well have carried its contents in their valises," said Claus,
settling down in his chair and keeping his eyes fastened upon the
railroad depot. "Wiggins was at the bottom of that, for I don't
believe the boys would ever have thought of it. I wonder how they felt
when they found their valises gone? Now, the next thing is something
else. Shall I go home, get my clothes, and spend the winter in Denver,
or shall I go home and stay there? That's a question that cannot be
decided in a minute."
While Claus was endeavoring to come to some conclusion on these points
he saw Casper Nevins coming along the railroad and entering the depot.
By keeping a close watch of the windows he discovered him pass toward
the ticket office, where he made known his wants, and presently Claus
saw him put a ticket into his pocket.
"So far, so good," muttered Claus, as he arose from his chair. "I
guess I might as well get on the train with him, for I must go to St.
Louis anyhow. Perhaps something will occur to me in the meantime."
Casper was sitting on a bench, with his hands clasped and his chin
resting on his breast, wondering what in the world he was going to do
when he got back to St. Louis, when he heard Claus's step on the
floor. He first had an idea that he would not speak to him at all; but
Solomon acted in such a friendly manner, when he met him, that he
could not fail to accost him with
"You were trying to shake me, were you?"
"Shake you! my dear fellow," exclaimed Claus, as if he were profoundly
astonished. "Such a thing never entered my head! I simply wanted to
get away by myself and think the matter over. Have a cigar."
"I don't want it!" declared Casper, when Claus laid it down upon his
knee. "I don't believe I shall want many cigars or anything else very
long."
"Disappointed over not finding that wealth, were you?" asked Claus, in
a lower tone. "Well, I was disappointed myself, and for a time I did
not want to see you or anybody else. I have wasted a heap of
hard-earned dollars upon that 'old horse.'"
"Have you given it up, too?" inquired Casper.
"What else can I do? Of course I have given it up. I will go back home
again and settle down to my humdrum life, and I shall never get over
moaning about that hundred thousand dollars we have lost."
"Do you think we tried every plan to get it?"
"Every one that occurred to me. They have it, and that is all there is
to it. What are you going to do when you get back to St. Louis?"
inquired Claus, for that was a matter in which he was very much
interested. He was not going to have Casper hanging onto him; on that
he was determined.
"I suppose I shall have to do as others do who are without work,"
replied Casper. "I shall go around to every store, and ask them if
they want a boy who isn't above doing anything that will bring him his
board and clothes. I wish I had my old position back; I'll bet you
that I would try to keep it."
"That is the best wish you have made in a long time," said Claus,
placing his hand on Casper's shoulder. "If I was back there, with my
money in my pocket, I would not care if every one of the express boys
would come and shove an 'old horse' at me. I tell you, 'honesty is the
best policy.'"
Casper was almost ready to believe that Claus had repented of his
bargain, but he soon became suspicious of him again. That was a queer
phrase to come from the lips of a man who believed in cheating or
lying for the purpose of making a few dollars by it. For want of
something better to do, he took up the cigar which Claus had laid upon
his knee and proceeded to light it.
"Well, I guess I'll go and get a ticket," remarked Claus, after a
little pause. "I don't know how soon that train will be along."
"'Honesty is the best policy,' is it?" mused Casper, watching Claus as
he took up his stand in the door and looked away down the railroad.
"Some people would believe him, but I have known him too long for
that. I wish I knew what he has in his head. He is going to try to
get his hands on that 'old horse'; and if he does, I hope he will
fail, just as we have done. He need not think that I am going to hold
fast to him. I have had one lesson through him, and that is enough."
Claus did not seem anxious to renew his conversation with Casper. He
had heard all the latter's plans, as far as he had any, and now he
wanted to think up some of his own. He walked up and down the platform
with his hands behind his back, all the while keeping a bright lookout
down the road for the train.
"I must go to Denver, because I shall want to make the acquaintance of
some fellows there whom I know I can trust," soliloquized Claus. "I
can get plenty of men in St. Louis, but they are not the ones I want.
I must have some men who know all about mining, and perhaps I can get
them to scrape an acquaintance with Julian. That will be all the
better, for then I can find out what he is going to do. Well, we will
see how it looks when I get home."
For half an hour Claus walked the platform occupied with such
thoughts as these, and finally a big smoke down the track told him the
train was coming. He stuck his head in at the door and informed Casper
of the fact, and when the train came up he boarded one of the forward
cars, leaving his companion to do as he pleased.
"You are going to shake me," thought Casper, as he stepped aboard the
last car in the train. "Well, you might as well do it at one time as
at another. I have all the money I can get out of you, but I am not
square with you by any means. From this time forward I'll look out for
myself."
And the longer Casper pondered upon this thought, the more heartily he
wished he had never seen Claus in the first place. He did not sleep a
wink during his ride to St. Louis, but got off the train when it
reached its destination and took a straight course for his room. The
apartment seemed cheerless after his experience on the train, but he
closed the door, threw himself into a chair, and resumed his
meditations, for thus far he had not been able to decide upon
anything.
"I am hungry," thought he, at length, "and after I have satisfied my
appetite I will do just what I told Claus--go around to the different
stores and ask them if they want a boy. I tell you that will be a big
come-down for me, but it serves me right for having anything to do
with Claus."
We need not go with Casper any further. For three nights he returned
from his long walks tired and hungry, and not a single storekeeper to
whom he had applied wanted a boy for any purpose whatever. Sometimes
he had sharp words to dishearten him. "No, no; get out of here--you
are the fifth boy who has been at me this morning;" and Casper always
went, for fear the man would lay violent hands on him. On the fourth
night he came home feeling a little better than usual. He had been
hired for a few days to act as porter in a wholesale dry-goods store,
and he had enough money in his pocket to pay for a good supper. The
wages he received were small--just about enough to pay for breakfast
and supper; but when the few days were up the hurry was over, and
Casper was once more a gentleman of leisure. And so it was during the
rest of the summer and fall. He could not get anything to do steadily,
his clothes were fast wearing out, and the landlord came down on him
for his rent when he did not have a cent in his pocket. Utterly
discouraged, at last he wrote to his mother for money to carry him to
his home; and so he passes out of our sight.
As for Claus, we wish we could dispose of him in the same way; but
unfortunately we cannot. Everybody was glad to see him when he entered
the pool-room where he had been in the habit of playing, and more than
one offered him a cigar. He told a long story about some business he
had to attend to somewhere out West, and when he talked he looked up
every time the door opened, as if fearful that Casper would come in to
bother him for more money. But Casper was sick of Claus. The lesson he
had received from him was enough.
Claus remained in St. Louis for two months; and he must have been
successful, too, for the roll of bills he carried away with him was
considerably larger than the one which Casper had seen. When he was
ready to go he bade everybody good-bye, and this time he carried his
trunk with him. He was going out West to attend to "some business,"
which meant that he was going to keep watch of Julian and Jack in some
way, and be ready to pounce upon them when they worked their
mine--that is, if they were successful with it.
"That will be the only thing I can do," decided Claus, after thinking
the matter over. "They have the buildings by this time, at any rate,
so that part of it has gone up; but when they get out alone, and are
working in their mine, that will be the time for me to take them. They
will have all the work, but I will have the dust they make."
When Claus reached this point in his meditations, he could not help
remembering that some of the men who were interested in the mines were
dead shots with either rifle or revolver, and that if he robbed the
boys he would be certain to have some of them after him, and what they
would do if they caught him was another matter altogether.
"I can shoot as well as they can," thought he, feeling around for his
hip pocket to satisfy himself that his new revolver was still in its
place. "If I have some of their money in my pocket, I would like to
see any of the miners come up with me."
When Claus reached Denver, his first care was to keep clear of Julian
and Jack, and his next was to find some miners who were familiar with
the country in the region bordering on Dutch Flat; for thus far Claus
had not been able to learn a thing about it. Dutch Flat might be five
miles away or it might be a hundred, and he wanted somebody to act as
his guide. He put up at a second-rate hotel, engaged his room, and
then came down into the reading-room to keep watch of the men who
tarried there.
"I must find somebody whose face tells me he would not be above
stealing a hundred thousand dollars if he had a good chance," decided
Claus; "but the countenances of these men all go against me--they are
too honest. I guess I'll have to try the clerk, and see what I can get
out of him."
On the second day, as Claus entered the reading-room with a paper in
his hand, he saw before him a man sitting by a window, his feet
elevated higher than his head, watching the people going by. He was a
miner,--there could be no doubt about that,--and he seemed to be in
low spirits about something, for every little while he changed his
position, yawned, and stretched his arms as if he did not know what to
do with himself. Claus took just one look at him, then seized a chair
and drew it up by the man's side. The man looked up to see who it was,
and then looked out on the street again.
"Excuse me," began Claus, "but you seem to be a miner."
"Well, yes--I have dabbled in that a little," answered the man,
turning his eyes once more upon Claus. "What made you think of that?"
"I judged you by your clothes," replied Claus. "Have a cigar? Then,
perhaps you will tell me if you know anything about Dutch Flat, where
there is--"
"Don't I know all about it?" interrupted the man. "Ask me something
hard. A bigger fraud than that Dutch Flat was never sprung on any lot
of men. There is no color of gold up there."
"Then what made you go there in the first place?" asked Claus.
"It got into the hands of a few men who were afraid of the Indians,
and they coaxed me and my partner to go up," replied the man. "But
there were no Indians there. I prospected around there for six months,
owe more than I shall ever be able to pay for grub-staking, and
finally, when the cold weather came, I slipped out."
"I am sorry to hear that," remarked Claus, looking down at the floor
in a brown study. "I have a mine up there, and I was about to go up
and see how things were getting on there; but if the dirt pans out as
you say, it will not be worth while."
"You had better stay here, where you have a good fire to warm you
during this frosty weather," said the man, once more running his eyes
over Claus's figure. "If you have a mine up there you had better let
it go; you are worth as much money now as you would be if you stayed
up there a year."
"But I would like to go and see the mine," replied Claus. "There was a
fortune taken out of it a few years ago, and it can't be that the vein
is all used up yet."
"Where _is_ your mine?"
"That is what I don't know. I have somehow got it into my head the
mine is off by itself, a few miles from everybody else's."
"Do you mean the haunted mine?" asked the man, now beginning to take
some interest in what Claus was saying.
"I believe that is what they call it."
"It is five miles from Dutch Flat, straight off through the mountains.
You can't miss it, for there is a trail that goes straight to it."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, I know; but that is all I do know about it. I saw two men who
went there to work the pit, and who were frightened so badly that they
lit out for this place as quick as they could go, and that was all I
wanted to know of the mine."
"Then you have never been down in it?"
"Not much, I haven't!" exclaimed the man, looking surprised. "I would
not go down into it for all the money there is in the mountain."
"Did those men see anything?"
"No, but they heard a sight; and if men can be so badly scared by what
they hear, they don't wait to see anything."
"Well, I want to go up there, and who can I get to act as my guide?"
"I can tell you one thing," answered the man, emphatically--"you won't
get me and Jake to go up there with you. I'll tell you what I might
do," he added, after thinking a moment. "Are you going to stay here
this winter?"
"Yes, I had thought of it. It is pretty cold up there in the
mountains--is it not?"
"The weather is so cold that it will take the hair right off of your
head," replied the man. "If you will stay here until spring opens, you
might hire me and Jake to show you up as far as Dutch Flat; but beyond
that we don't budge an inch."
"How much will you charge me? And another thing--do I have to pay you
for waiting until spring?"
"No, you need not pay us a cent. We have enough to last us all winter.
I was just wondering what I was going to do when spring came, and that
made me feel blue. But if you are going to hire us--you will be gone
three or four months, won't you?"
Yes, Claus thought that he would be gone as long as that. Then he
asked, "How far is Dutch Flat from here?"
"Two hundred miles."
The two then began an earnest conversation in regard to the money that
was to be paid for guiding Claus up to Dutch Flat. The latter thought
he had worked the thing just about right. It would be time enough to
tell him who Julian and Jack were, and to talk about robbing them,
when he knew a little more concerning the man and his partner. He had
not seen the other man yet, but he judged that, if he were like the
miner he was talking to, it would not be any great trouble to bring
them to his own way of thinking.