Copper Streak Trail

by Eugene Manlove Rhodes

  CHAPTER IV

  Stanley Mitchell looked hard at the long black mark; he looked out alongthe south to the low line of the Gavilan Hills; he looked at the red arcof sun peering suddenly over the Comobabi Range.

  "Well--and so forth!" he said. "Here is a burn from the branding! Andwhat are we going to do now?"

  "Wash the dishes. You do it."

  "You are a light-minded and frivolous old man," said Stan. "What are wegoing to do about our mine?"

  "I've done told you. We--per you--are due to wash up the dishes. Do thenext thing next. That's a pretty good rule. Meantime I will superintendand smoke and reflect."

  "Do your reflecting out loud, can't you?" said Stan. His smooth foreheadwrinkled and a sudden cleft appeared between his eyebrows, witness of anunaccustomed intentness of thought. "Say, Pete; this partnership of oursisn't on the level. You put in half the work and all the brains."

  "'Sall right," said Pete Johnson. "You furnish the luck andpersonal pulchritude. That ain't all, either. I'm pickin' up someconsiderable education from you, learning how to pronounce wordslike that--pulchritude. I mispronounced dreadful, I reckon."

  "I can tell you how to not mispronounce half as many words as you donow," said Stan.

  "How's that?" said Pete, greatly interested.

  "Only talk half so much."

  "Fair enough, kid! It would work, too. That ain't all, either. If Italked less you'd talk more; and, talking more, you'd study out foryourself a lot of the things I tell you now, gettin' credit from you formuch wisdom, just because I hold the floor. Go to it, boy! Tell us howthe affairs of We, Us & Company size up to you at this juncture."

  "Here goes," said Stan. "First, we don't want to let on that we've gotanything at all on our minds--much less a rich mine. After a reasonabletime we should make some casual mention of discontent that we've sent offrock to an assayer and not heard from it. Not to say a word would makeour conspirators more suspicious; a careless mention of it might makethem think our find wasn't such-a-much, after all. Say! I suppose itwouldn't do to pick up a collection of samples from the best mines roundCobre--and inquire round who to write to for some more, from Jeromeand Cananea, maybe; and then, after talking them up a while, we couldsend one of these samples off to be assayed, just for curiosity--what?"

  "Bear looking into," said Pete; "though I think they'd size it up as anattempt to throw 'em off the trail. Maybe we can smooth that idea out sowe can do something with it. Proceed."

  "Then we'll have to play up to that location you filed by hiking to theGavilan and going through the motions of doing assessment work on thatdinky little claim."

  Feeling his way, Stan watched the older man's eyes. Pete nodded approval.

  "But, Pete, aren't we taking a big chance that some one will find ourclaim? It isn't recorded, and our notice will run out unless we do someassessment work pretty quick. Suppose some one should stumble onto it?"

  "Well, we've got to take the chance," said Pete. "And the chance of someone stumbling on our find by blind luck, like we did, isn't a drop in thebucket to the chance that we'll be followed if we try to slip away whilethese fellows are worked up with the fever. Seventy-five thousand rounddollars to one canceled stamp that some one has his eye glued on usthrough a telescope right this very now! I wouldn't bet the postage stampon it, at that odds. No, sir! Right now things shape up hotter than theseven low places in hell.

  "If we go to the mine now--or soon--we'll never get back. After we showthem the place--_adios el mundo_!"

  "Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird," Mitchellquoted soberly. "So you think that after a while, when their enthusiasmdies down, we can give them the slip?"

  "Sure! It's our only chance."

  "Couldn't we make a get-away at night?"

  "It is what they are hoping for. They'd follow our tracks. No, sir! We donothing. We notice nothing, we suspect nothing, and we have nothing tohide."

  "You want to remember that our location notice will be running out prettysoon."

  "We'll have to risk it. Not so much of a risk, either. Cobre is the lastoutpost of civilization. South of here, in the whole strip from Comobabito the Colorado River, there's not twenty men, all told, between here andthe Mexican border--except yonder deluded wretches in the Gavilan; andnone beyond the border for a hundred miles."

  "It is certainly one big lonesome needle-in-the-haystack proposition--andno one has any idea where our find is, not within three days' ride. Butwhat puzzles me is this: If Zurich really got wise to our copper, he'dknow at once that it was a big thing, if there was any amount of it. Thenwhy didn't he keep it private and confidential? Why tip it off to theG.P.? I have always understood that in robbery and murder, one isassisted only by intimate friends. What is the large idea?"

  "That, I take it," laughed Pete, "is, in some part, an acknowledgmentthat it doesn't take many like you and me to make a dozen. You've madeone or two breaks and got away with 'em, the last year or two, that hasgot 'em guessing; and I'm well and loudly known myself. There is a wiseold saying that it's no use sending a boy to mill. They figure on that,likely; they wanted to be safe and sanitary. They sized it up that todispatch only two or three men to adjust such an affair with us would bein no way respectful or segacious.

  "Also, in a gang of crooks like that, every one is always pullin' for hisbuddy. That accounts for part of the crowd--prudence and a far-reachingspirit of brotherly love. For the rest, when the first ten or six madepacks and started, they was worked up and oozing excitement at everypore. Then some of the old prospectors got a hunch there was somethingdoing; so they just naturally up stakes and tagged along. Always doingthat, old miner is. That's what makes the rushes and stampedes you hearabout."

  "Then we're to do nothing just now but to shun mind-readers, write noletters, and not talk in our sleep?"

  "Just so," agreed Pete. "If my saddle could talk, I'd burn it. That's ourbest lay. We'll tire 'em out. The most weariest thing in the world is tohunt for a man that isn't there; the next worst is to watch a man thathas nothing to conceal. And our little old million-dollar-a-rod hill isthe unlikeliest place to look for a mine I ever did see. Just plain dirtand sand. No indications; just a plain freak. I'd sooner take a chance inthe pasture lot behind pa's red barn--any one would. We covered up allthe scratchin' we did and the wind has done the rest. Here--you was to dothe talkin'. Go on."

  "What we really need," declared Mitchell, "is an army--enough absolutelytrustworthy and reliable men to overmatch any interference."

  "The largest number of honest men that was ever got together in onebunch," said Pete, "was just an even eleven. Judas Iscariot was thetwelfth. That's the record. For that reason I've always stuck it out thatwe ought to have only ten men on a jury, instead of twelve. It seems moremodest, somehow. But suppose we found ten honest men somewheres. It mightbe done. I know where there's two right here in Arizona, and I've got mysuspicions of a third--honest about portable property, that is. Withcattle, and the like, they don't have any hard-and-fast rule; justconsider each case on its individual merits. How the case of automobileswould strike them elder ethics is one dubious problem. Standing still, orbein' towed, so it might be considered as a wagon, a car would be safeenough; but proceedin' from hither to yon under its own power--I dunno.I'll make a note of it. Well, you get the right idea for the first thing.Honest men wanted; no questions asked. And then what?"

  "Money."

  "You've said it, kid! We could quitclaim that hill for a million cashto-morrow--"

  "If we had any claim to quit," interrupted Stanley; "and if we could dragcapital out here and rub its nose in our hill."

  "That's the word I was feelin' for--capital. It's capital we want,Stanley--not money. I could get a little money myself down at Tucson.Them two honest men of mine live there. We used to steal cattle togetherdown on the Concho--the sheriff and Jose Benavides and me. I aim to feed'em a slice of my share, anyway--but what they could put in wouldn't be adrop in the bucket. We want to go
after capital. There's where you comein. Got any rich friends back East?"

  Stan reflected.

  "My cousin, Oscar Mitchell, is well-to-do, but hardly what you would callrich, in this connection," he said. "But he is in touch with some of thereally big men. We could hardly find a better agent to interest capital."

  "Will he take the first steps on your bare word--without even a sample oran assayer's report?"

  "Certainly. Why not?"

  "Back you go, then. Here's where you come in. I had this in mind,"declared Johnson, "when I first throwed in with you. I knew we could findthe mine and you'd be needed for bait to attract capital. I rustled alittle expense money at Tucson. Say, I didn't tell you about that.Listen!"

  He recited at length his joyous financial adventures in Tucson.

  "But won't your man Marsh tell Zurich about your unruly behavior?" saidStan at the finish.

  "I think not. He's got too much to lose. I put the fear of God in hisheart for fair. I couldn't afford to have him put Zurich on his guard.It won't do to underestimate Zurich. The man's a crook; but he's gotbrains. He hasn't overlooked a bet since he came here. Zurich isCobre--or mighty near it. He's in on all the good things. Big share inthe big mines, little share in the little ones. He's got all the watersupply grabbed and is makin' a fortune from that alone. He runs thestore, the post-office, and the stage line. He's got the freightcontracts and the beef contracts. He's got brains. Only one weak pointabout him--he'll underestimate us. We got brains too. Zurich knows that,but he don't quite believe it. That's our chance."

  "Just what will you ask my cousin to do? And when shall I go?"

  "Day before to-morrow. You hike back to Cobre and hit the road for allpoints East, I'll go over to the Gavilan to be counted--take thisdynamite and stuff, and make a bluff at workin', keeping my ears open andmy mouth not. Pledge cousin to come see when we wire for him--as soon aswe get possession. If he finds the sight satisfactory, we'll organizea company, you and me keepin' control. We'll give 'em forty per cent fora million cash in the treasury. I want nine percent for my Tucsonfriends, who'll put up a little preliminary cash and help us with thefirst fightin', if any. Make your dicker on that basis; take no less.If your cousin can't swing it, we'll go elsewhere.

  "Tell him our proposition would be a gracious gift at two millions,undeveloped; but we're not selling. Tell him there'll be a millionneeded for development before there'll be a dollar of return. There's nowater; just enough to do assessment work on, and that to be hauledtwenty-five miles from those little rock tanks at Cabeza Prieta. Deepdrillin' may get water--I hope so. But that will take time and money.There'll have to be a seventy-five-mile spur of railroad built, anyway,leaving the main line somewhere about Mohawk: we'd just as well count onhauling water from the Gila the first year. Them tanks will about run aten-man gang a month after each rain, countin' in the team that does thehauling.

  "Tell him one claim, six hundred feet by fifteen hundred, will prettynear cover our hill; but we'll stake two for margin. We don't wantany more; but we'll have to locate a town site or something, to be sureof our right of way for our railroad. Every foot of these hills will bestaked out by some one, eventually. If any of these outside claims turnsout to be any good, so much the better. But there can't be the usual rushvery well--'cause there ain't enough water. We'll have to locate thetanks and keep a guard there; we'll have to pull off a franchise for ourlittle jerkwater railroad.

  "We got to build a wagon road to Mohawk, set six-horse teams to haulingwater, and other teams to hauling water to stations along the road forthe teams that haul water for us. All this at once; it's going to be somecomplicated.

  "That's the lay: Development work; appropriation for honest men in thefirst camp; another for lawyers; patentin' three claims; haul waterseventy-five miles, no road, and part of that through sand; minin'machinery; build a railroad; smelter, maybe--if some one would kindlyfind coal.

  "We want a minimum of five hundred thousand; as much more for accidents.Where does this cousin of yours live? In Abingdon?"

  "In Vesper--seven miles from Abingdon. He's a lawyer."

  "Is he all right?"

  "Why, yes--I guess so. When I was a boy I thought he was a wonderfulchap--rather made a hero of him."

  "When you was a boy?" echoed Johnson; a quizzical twinkle assisted thequery.

  "Oh, well--when he was a boy."

  "He's older than you, then?"

  "Nearly twice as old. My father was the youngest son of an old-fashionedfamily, and I was his youngest. Uncle Roy--Oscar's father--was dad'soldest brother, and Oscar was a first and only."

  Pete shook his head.

  "I'm sorry about that, too. I'd be better pleased if he was round yourage. No offense to you, Stan; but I'd name no places to your cousin ifI were you. When we get legal possession let him come out and see forhimself--leadin' a capitalist, if possible."

  "Oscar's all right, I guess," protested Stan.

  "But you can't do more than guess? Name him no names, then. I wish he wasyounger," said Peter with a melancholy expression. "The world has afoolish old saying: 'The good die young.' That's all wrong, Stanley. Itisn't true. The young die good!"