CLAUS HEARS SOMETHING.
Never had a winter appeared so long and so utterly cheerless as this
one did to Solomon Claus. The first thing he did, after he made the
acquaintance of Jake and his partner, was to change his place of
abode. Jake was as ready to ask for cigars as Claus had been, and the
latter found that in order to make his money hold out he must
institute a different state of affairs. He found lodgings at another
second-rate hotel in a distant part of the city, but he found
opportunity to run down now and then to call upon Bob and Jake,--those
were the only two names he knew them by,--to see how they were coming
along, and gradually lead the way up to talking about the plans he had
in view. It all came about by accident. One day, when discussing the
haunted mine, Claus remarked that he knew the two boys who were
working it, and hoped they would have a good deal of dust on hand by
the time he got here.
"Then they will freeze to death!" declared Bob. "What made you let
them go there, if you knew the mine was haunted?"
"Oh, they are not working it now," said Claus. "They are in St. Louis,
and are coming out as soon as spring opens. They are plucky fellows,
and will find out all about those ghosts before they come back."
"Yes, if the ghosts don't run them away," answered Bob. "I understood
you to say they are boys. Well, now, if they get the better of the
ghosts, which is something I won't believe until I see it, and we
should get there about a month or two after they do, and find that
they have dug up dust to the amount of ten or fifteen thousand
dollars--eh?"
"But maybe the gentleman is set on those two boys, and it would not
pay to rob them," remarked Jake.
"No, I am not set on them," avowed Claus, smiling inwardly when he saw
how readily the miners fell in with his plans. "I tried my level best
to get those boys to stay at home, for I don't want them to dig their
wealth out of the ground, but they hooted at me; and when I saw they
were bound to come, I thought I would get up here before them and see
what sort of things they had to contend with."
"What sort of relationship do you bear to the two boys?" asked Bob.
"I am their uncle, and I gave them a block of buildings here in Denver
worth a hundred thousand dollars and this haunted mine; but, mind you,
I did not know it was haunted until after I had given it to them. But,
boy like, they determined to come up, brave the ghosts, and take
another fifty thousand out of it."
Bob and Jake looked at each other, and something told them not to
believe all that Claus had said to them. If he was worth so much money
that he was willing to give his nephews a hundred thousand dollars of
it, he did not live in the way his means would allow.
"And another thing," resumed Claus. "I would not mind their losing ten
thousand dollars, provided I got my share of it, for then they would
learn that a miner's life is as full of dangers as any other. But
remember--if you get ten thousand, I want three thousand of it."
This was all that Claus thought it necessary to say on the subject of
robbing the boys, and after finishing his cigar he got up and went
out. Jake watched him until he was hidden in the crowd on the street,
and then settled back in his chair and looked at Bob.
"There is something wrong with that fellow," he remarked. "His stories
don't hitch; he has some other reason for wishing to rob those boys.
Now, what is it?"
"You tell," retorted Bob. "He has something on his mind, but he has no
more interest in that pit than you or I have. He never owned it, in
the first place."
"Then we will find out about it when we show him the way to the Flat,"
said Jake.
"Oh, there will be somebody there working the mine--I don't dispute
that. But he is no uncle to them two boys. But say--I have just
thought of something. We are not going up there for three dollars a
day; and if we don't make something out of the boys, what's the reason
we can't go to headquarters?"
Jake understood all his companion would have said, for he winked and
nodded his head in a way that had a volume of meaning in it. The two
moved their chairs closer together, and for half an hour engaged in
earnest conversation. There was only one thing that troubled
them--they did not like the idea of staying at Dutch Flat, among the
miners, until they heard how the boys were getting on with their mine.
"You know they did not like us any too well last summer," said Bob,
twisting about in his chair. "If we had not come away just when we
did, it is my belief they would have ordered us out."
"Yes; and it was all on your account, too. You were too anxious to
know how much the other fellows had dug out of their mines. You must
keep still and say nothing."
Claus went away from the hotel feeling very much relieved. Bob and
Jake had come over to his plans, and they had raised no objection to
them. The next thing was to bring them down to a share in the spoils.
He was not going to come out there all the way from St. Louis and
propose that thing to them, and then put up with what they chose to
give him.
"I must have a third of the money they make, and that is all there is
about it," said he to himself. "They would not have known a thing
about it if it had not been for me. Who is that? I declare, it is
Julian and Jack!"
The boys were coming directly toward him, and this was the first time
he had seen them since his arrival in Denver, although he had kept a
close watch of everybody he had met on the street. He stepped into a
door, and appeared to be looking for some one inside; and when the
boys passed him, he turned around to look at them. The latter were in
a hurry, for it was a frosty morning, and they felt the need of some
exercise to quicken their blood; besides, they were on their way to
school, in the hope of learning something that would fit them for
some useful station in life. They were dressed in brand-new overcoats,
had furs around their necks and fur gloves on their hands, and Julian
was bent partly over, laughing at some remark Jack had made. He
watched them until they were out of sight, and then came out and went
on his way.
"I tell you we are 'some,' now that we have our pockets full of
money," soliloquized Claus, who grew angry when he drew a contrast
between his and their station in life. "Most anybody would feel big if
he was in their place. But I must look out--I don't want them to see
me here."
Fortunately Claus was not again called upon to dodge the boys in his
rambles about the city. He kept himself in a part of the city remote
from that which the boys frequented. The winter passed on, and spring
opened, and he did not again see them; but he heard of them through
Bob and Jake, who made frequent visits to the hotel where Mr. Banta
was located.
"I guess we saw your boys to-day," said Bob, who then went on to
give a description of them. "They have it all cut and dried with
Banta, and he is going to show them the way to their mine. No, they
did not mention your name once. They are going to buy a pack-horse,
and load him up with tools and provisions, and are going out as big as
life."
"That is all right," said Claus. "Now, remember--I am to have a third
of the dust you get."
"Of course; that is understood," answered Jake, who now seemed as
anxious to go to Dutch Flat as he had before been to keep away from
it. "It would not be fair for us to take it all. Where are you going
after you get the money?"
"I haven't got it yet," remarked Claus, with a smile. "Those ghosts
may be too strong for the boys, and perhaps they will come away
without anything."
"Then we will pitch in and work the mine, ourselves," said Bob. "They
say that gold is so thick up there that you can pick it up with your
hands. We won't come away and leave such a vein behind us."
"What about the ghosts?" queried Claus, who could not deny he was
afraid of them. "They may be too strong for you, also."
"If they can get away with cold steel we'll give in to them," said
Jake. "But I'll risk that. Where are you going when you get the money?
Of course you can't go back to St. Louis."
"No; I think I shall go on to California. I have always wanted to see
that State."
"Well, we will go East. Three thousand dollars, if they succeed in
digging out ten thousand, added to what we shall make--humph!" said
Bob; and then he stopped before he had gone any further.
It was a wonder that Claus did not suspect something, but his mind was
too fully occupied with other matters. Where was he going when he got
the money? That was something that had not occurred to Claus before,
and he found out that he had something yet to worry him.
"You fellows seem to think you will get rich by robbing those boys,"
remarked Claus, knowing that he must say something.
"No, we don't," answered Jake; "but that will be enough to keep us
until we can turn our hands to some other kind of work. Now about our
pack-horse, tools and provisions. You have money enough to pay for
them, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes--that is, I have a little," Claus replied, cautiously, for he
was afraid the miners might want more of it than he felt able to
spend. "But I tell you I shall be hard up after I get those things."
"You have other money besides what you gave the boys," said Bob. "You
can write to St. Louis for more."
"But I don't want to do that. I have with me just what I can spare,
for my other funds are all invested."
"Oh, you can get more for the sake of what is coming to you," said
Jake, carelessly. "Now, we want to start for Dutch Flat in about a
week. That will give the boys time to fight the ghosts and get to work
in their pit. Suppose we go and see about our pack-horse and tools."
Claus would have been glad to have put this thing off for a day or
two, but he could not see any way to get out of it. He went with the
miners, who knew just where they wanted to go, and the horse he bought
was a perfect rack of bones that did not seem strong enough to carry
himself up to Dutch Flat, let alone a hundredweight of tools and
provisions with him. The tools he bought were to be left in the store
until they were called for, and the miners drew a long breath of
relief, for that much was done. If Claus at any time got sick of his
bargain, and wanted to haul out, he could go and welcome; but they
would hold fast to his tools and provisions, and use them in
prospecting somewhere else.
The morning set apart for their departure came at last, and Claus and
his companions put off at the first peep of day. They made the journey
of two hundred miles without any mishap, and finally rode into the
camp of Dutch Flat just as the miners were getting ready to have their
dinner. They all looked up when they heard the newcomers, and some
uttered profane ejaculations under their breath, while others greeted
them in a way that Claus did not like, for it showed him how his
partners stood there with the miners.
"Well, if there ain't Bob I'm a Dutchman!" exclaimed one,
straightening up and shading his eyes with his hand. "You are on hand,
like a bad five-dollar bill--ain't you? I was in hopes you were well
on your way to the States by this time."
"No, sir; I am here yet," answered Bob. "You don't mind if I go and
work my old claim, do you? I don't reckon that anybody has it."
"Mighty clear of anybody taking your claim," said another. "You can go
there and work it, for all of us; but we don't want you snooping
around us like you did last summer."
"What is the matter with those fellows?" asked Claus, when they were
out of hearing. "What did you men do here last summer?"
"Just nothing at all," replied Jake. "We wanted to know how much gold
everybody was digging, and that made them jealous of us."
"But if you can't mingle with them as you did then, how are you going
to find out about the haunted mine?"
"Oh, we'll mix with them just as we did last year, only we sha'n't
have so much to say to them," said Jake. "Here is our claim, and it
don't look as though anybody had been nigh it."
Claus was both surprised and downhearted. If he had known that the
miners were going to extend such a reception as that to him he would
have been the last one to go among them. There he was, almost alone,
with two hundred brawny fellows around him, each one with a revolver
strapped to his waist, and their looks and actions indicated that if
necessity required it they would not be at all reluctant to use them.
He managed to gather up courage to visit the general camp-fire, which
was kindled just at dark, where the miners met to smoke their pipes
and tell about what had happened in their mines during the day. This
one had not made anything. The dirt promised fairly, and he hoped in a
few days to strike a vein that would pay him and his partner
something. Another had tapped a little vein, and he believed that by
the time he got a rock out of his way he would stumble onto a deposit
that would make him so rich that he would start for the States in
short order.
"Well, partner, how do you come on?" asked the man who was sitting
close to Claus, who was listening with all his ears. "Does your dirt
pan out any better than it did last summer?"
"We have not seen the color of anything yet," replied Claus. "I do not
believe there is any gold there."
"You are a tenderfoot, ain't you?"
"Yes; I never have been in the mines before."
"And you will wish, before you see your friends again, that you had
never seen them this time. If you get any dust, you hide it where your
partners can't find it."
There was one man, who did not take any part in the conversation, that
kept a close watch on Claus and listened to every word he said. It was
Mr. Banta, who wondered what in the world could have happened to bring
so gentlemanly appearing a man up there in company with Bob and Jake.
"He must have money somewhere about his good clothes, and that is what
Bob is after," said he to himself. "But if that is the case, why did
they not jump him on the way here? I think he will bear watching."
Three nights passed in this way, Claus always meeting the miners at
the general camp-fire, while his partners stayed at home and waited
for him to come back and tell them the news, and on the fourth evening
Banta seemed lost in thought. He sat and gazed silently into the fire,
unmindful of the tales that were told and the songs that were sung all
around him. At last one of the miners addressed him.
"Well, Banta, I suppose this is your last evening with us," he
remarked.
"Yes; I go off to-morrow."
"Don't you wish you had not promised to go up there?"
"No, I don't; I shall find out if the boys are all right, anyway. That
is what I care the most about. I shall take some provisions with me,
and if the boys are above ground I will leave them; otherwise, I shall
bring them back."
"Oh, the boys must have the better of the ghosts by this time," said
another; "they would have been here before this time if they had not.
You will find them with more gold stowed away than they know what to
do with."
"And didn't they see the ghosts at all?"
"Why, as to that, I can't say. But they have beaten them at their own
game. You will see."
Claus pricked up his ears when he heard this, and when the miners had
all drawn away, one by one, and sought their blankets in their
lean-to's, he asked of the man who sat near him, and who was waiting
to smoke his pipe out before he went to bed,
"Where is Banta going?"
"Up to the haunted mine," was the reply. "You see, he went up there
two weeks ago with the boys, and promised to come back in two weeks to
see how they were coming on. His two weeks are up to-night."
"What is up there, anyway?"
"Well, you can ask somebody else to answer that question," said the
miner, getting upon his feet. "I don't know what is up there, and I
don't want to know."
The miner walked off and left Claus sitting there alone. He was
certain that he was on the right track at last. As soon as Banta came
back they would know something about the haunted mine.