A CURIOUS STORY
While the old miner was standing at the gate, with the two brothers, Mr.
Crosby came out of the house.
"Here is the man who helped us find Pete, father," said Will.
"I'm glad to meet you, sir," responded the farmer heartily, extending
his hand. "Won't you come in?"
"I just invited him to dinner, dad," spoke Jed.
"That's right. Come in, Mr.--er----"
"Harrison, Gabriel Harrison, though my pardners and the boys used to
call me Gabe. I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure, for your invitation."
"We don't often see strangers out this way," went on the farmer. "I
understand you are a miner."
"I used to be, but I'm not much of anything now. I've been prospecting
around here lately, looking for something to turn up, but it doesn't
seem to be going to. Pretty dry around here, isn't it, Mr. Crosby?"
"Entirely too much so. I don't know what I'm going to do about my crops
if we don't get rain soon."
Gabe Harrison looked up at the sky. The sun seemed to be blazing down as
hot as ever. The old miner glanced to the various points of the compass.
Then he leaned over and gravely felt of his left foot.
"What's the matter? Got a stone bruise?" asked Mr. Crosby.
"No, but I've got a very sensitive corn. It's as good as a barometer.
It's beginning to hurt like all possessed, and I shouldn't be surprised
if we had a rain storm soon. It always aches as it does now, just before
a storm."
"Doesn't it bother you at other times?" asked Jed with a smile.
"Not at all. I think we're going to have rain."
"I certainly hope so," remarked Mr. Crosby. "But you'd better come in
now. My wife and daughter have dinner all ready, and I know the women
folks don't like to be kept waiting when everything's on the table."
"You're right there, stranger--I mean Mr. Crosby," said Gabe. "I'll come
in. Can I wash up a bit? I've got considerable of the dirt of this
county spread over my face and hands, only it isn't 'pay dirt.'"
"What's 'pay dirt'?" asked Will
"That, my boy, is what miners call dirt that has gold in it. Many a
rocker full I've washed up. Sometimes I'd get a lot of the yellow dust,
and, again I wouldn't make enough to buy my bacon. But it's all in the
day's work."
Mr. Crosby led his rather queer guest to a shed, where in the summer
time the male members of the family washed in preparation for their
meals. Mr. Harrison gave himself a vigorous scrubbing with the yellow
soap, and polished his face on the coarse towel until his countenance
fairly shone. He was a well preserved old man, with a ruddy complexion,
that showed through his coating of tan.
"Do you find gold mining pays?" asked Mr. Crosby, after the meal, when
the gold-hunter had done full justice to the cooking of Mrs. Crosby and
Nettie.
"Yes, about as well as anything--farming, for instance. I suppose your
business has its ups and downs."
"Mostly downs. I declare, I never knew such hard times as we're having
now! Not only me, but every farmer I know. This long dry spell is likely
to have a bad effect on the country."
"I believe you. We miners don't have it all our own way, either."
"I thought you said you had dug plenty of gold," put in Jed, who, with
his brother, was an interested listener.
"So I did. But digging it and keeping it are two different things, young
man."
"Did you lose what you had?" asked Mr. Crosby, who had heard from his
sons something of their guest's history.
"I lost it--yes--in a way. I might as well tell you the story. It's not
a very pleasant one. It goes to show that a man can be a pretty big fool
when he tries real hard. That's not a very nice thing to say, but it's
the truth."
"How did it happen?" asked Will.
"Well, as I've told you, I've been a gold miner for a number of years.
I've prospected, or looked for gold, in many places in this country. And
I've found my share of yellow nuggets in my time.
"I made my last strike in Nevada. Where I was, nobody thought there was
much but silver, but I was lucky enough to come upon a good gold lead,
and the vein got bigger the farther I dug. Well, to make a long story
short, I took out several thousand dollars in pure gold. Then I lost
it."
"Couldn't you find it again?" asked Nettie, who, with her brothers, was
eagerly listening to the miner's story.
"No, little miss, I couldn't, for I lost it by gambling."
"Gambling!" exclaimed Mr. Crosby, for he and his wife were strict church
people, and did not know much about the vices of the world.
"That's the plain truth. Everybody out West gambles--that is, nearly
everybody. There are some exceptions, of course, but I wasn't one. Very
foolishly thought I could get something for nothing, and put up my money
in a card game."
"And you lost?" inquired Mrs. Crosby.
"Every one but the man running the game loses sooner or later, ma'am,"
replied the miner. "It's run that way. I lost over a thousand dollars
before I had sense enough to quit."
"Oh, then you stopped in time. I'm glad to hear that," said the farmer.
"No, I didn't. I stopped gambling, but I didn't get out of the company
of the gamblers, as I should have done. I stayed right there, for I
thought I knew it all. Ah, that's a true saying, that there's 'no fool
like an old fool,' if you'll excuse me using such language, but I want
you boys to take a lesson from me."
"Then how did you lose the rest of your fortune?" asked Jed.
"I was swindled out of it," replied Gabe Harrison. "It was partly my own
fault, though. If I had had sense enough to keep away from the gamblers
it wouldn't have happened. But one of them proposed a certain deal to
me, and I went in with him. When it was all over I found I knew a great
deal more than I did at first, but I hadn't any money left."
"They took it all?" asked Mr. Crosby.
"One man got the most of it."
"How?"
"Well, it was an old-time swindle, but I don't believe you'd understand
if I told you. Such things aren't good for young people to hear about,
anyhow. But I woke up one morning without a cent in my pocket, whereas
the night before I had over five thousand dollars in pure gold."
"Five thousand dollars!" murmured Mr. Crosby, to whom such a sum seemed
a large fortune.
"Yes. Oh, we didn't think much of that amount in the West. Money was
easily made and easily spent there."
"Who got it?" asked Jed, leaning forward in his intense interest in the
miner's curious story.
"One man got the most of it."
"Who was he?" inquired Will.
"He went by the name of Con Morton, but I guess he had half a dozen
other titles he used whenever it was convenient. Yes, he got most of my
fortune by a swindle, and then he lit out. I haven't seen him since. I
wish I had. I think I could have made him give me back at least a part
of it."
"Where was this?" asked Mrs. Crosby.
"Out in Nevada. Now, I'm afraid I've taken up too much of your time with
my foolish story. But maybe it will be a lesson to the boys," and he
looked at Jed and Will. "I don't suppose you'll ever go hunting gold,
and gambling, but if you do, steer clear of any one by the name of Con
Morton."
"I don't believe we'll ever get the chance to hunt gold, Mr. Harrison,"
replied Jed, "and we certainly won't gamble."
"Stranger things have happened--I mean about hunting gold--but I'm
pretty sure if you do find any of the yellow lumps you won't be as
foolish as I was, and let a swindler get them away from you. Well, I
reckon I'd better be traveling along."
"Are you going to any place in particular?" asked Mr. Crosby.
"No. As I told your boys when I met them looking for the runaway horse,
I'm just waiting for something to turn up. I may go back West again, or
I may settle down in the East. I'm looking for a job, to tell you the
truth. My money is 'most gone, and I need a little to keep me going,
though I don't require much to live on."
"Then why don't you stay here?" asked the farmer. "I need a man to help
me with the cultivating. I can't pay much--no farmer can these
times--but I'll do the best I can. If I had a man to help with the
cultivating I could stir the dirt up around the crops, and it wouldn't
matter quite so much about the rain. Did you ever work on a farm?"
"Once, when I was a young lad. But if my corn keeps on hurting the way
it does, I know we'll have rain."
"I hope so. But would you like to stay here a few days?"
"I think so. In fact, I will. I don't care so much about the money, but
I like it here, and it will give me a chance to rest. Yes, Mr. Crosby,
I'll stay and help you cultivate. Maybe it will rain, and I can then
help you in other ways."
"Perhaps. Then if you'll come with me I'll show you a room you can use."
And so it was settled that the old miner should remain, for the time
being, at the Crosby farm.