by Bret Harte
CHAPTER VII
A few days after the girls had returned to San Francisco, they receiveda letter from their father. His business, he wrote, would detain him inSacramento some days longer. There was no reason why they should returnto Devil's Ford in the heat of the summer; their host had written tobeg him to allow them a more extended visit, and, if they were enjoyingthemselves, he thought it would be well not to disoblige an old friend.He had heard they had a pleasant visit to Mr. Prince's place, and that acertain young banker had been very attentive to Christie.
"Do you know what all this means, dear?" asked Jessie, who had beenwatching her sister with an unusually grave face.
Christie whose thoughts had wandered from the letter, repliedcarelessly,--
"I suppose it means that we are to wait here until father sends for us."
"It means a good deal more. It means that papa has had another reverse;it means that the assay has turned out badly for the mine--that thefurther they go from the flat the worse it gets--that all the gold theywill probably ever see at Devil's Ford is what they have already foundor will find on the flat; it means that all Devil's Ford is only a'pocket,' and not a 'lead.'" She stopped, with unexpected tears in hereyes.
"Who told you this?" asked Christie breathlessly.
"Fairfax--Mr. Munroe," stammered her sister, "writes to me as if wealready knew it--tells me not to be alarmed, that it isn't so bad--andall that."
"How long has this happened, Jessie?" said Christie, taking her hand,with a white but calm face.
"Nearly ever since we've been here, I suppose. It must be so, for hesays poor papa is still hopeful of doing something yet."
"And Mr. Munroe writes to you?" said Christie abstractedly.
"Of course," said Jessie quickly. "He feels interested in--us."
"Nobody tells ME anything," said Christie.
"Didn't--"
"No," said Christie bitterly.
"What on earth DID you talk about? But people don't confide in youbecause they're afraid of you. You're so--"
"So what?"
"So gently patronizing, and so 'I-don't-suppose-you-can-help-it,poor-thing,' in your general style," said Jessie, kissing her. "There!I only wish I was like you. What do you say if we write to father thatwe'll go back to Devil's Ford? Mr. Munroe thinks we will be of servicethere just now. If the men are dissatisfied, and think we're spendingmoney--"
"I'm afraid Mr. Munroe is hardly a disinterested adviser. At least, Idon't think it would look quite decent for you to fly back without yourfather, at his suggestion," said Christie coldly. "He is not the onlypartner. We are spending no money. Besides, we have engaged to go to Mr.Prince's again next week."
"As you like, dear," said Jessie, turning away to hide a faint smile.
Nevertheless, when they returned from their visit to Mr. Prince's, andone or two uneventful rides, Christie looked grave. It was only a fewdays later that Jessie burst upon her one morning.
"You were saying that nobody ever tells you anything. Well, here's yourchance. Whiskey Dick is below."
"Whiskey Dick?" repeated Christie. "What does he want?"
"YOU, love. Who else? You know he always scorns me as not beinghigh-toned and elegant enough for his social confidences. He asked foryou only."
With an uneasy sense of some impending revelation, Christie descended tothe drawing-room. As she opened the door, a strong flavor of that toiletsoap and eau de Cologne with which Whiskey Dick was in the habit ofgracefully effacing the traces of dissipation made known his presence.In spite of a new suit of clothes, whose pristine folds refused toadapt themselves entirely to the contour of his figure, he was somewhatsubdued by the unexpected elegance of the drawing-room of Christie'shost. But a glance at Christie's sad but gracious face quickly reassuredhim. Taking from his hat a three-cornered parcel, he unfolded ahandsome saffrona rose, which he gravely presented to her. Havingthus reestablished his position, he sank elegantly into a tete-a-teteottoman. Finding the position inconvenient to face Christie, who hadseated herself on a chair, he transferred himself to the other side ofthe ottoman, and addressed her over its back as from a pulpit.
"Is this really a fortunate accident, Mr. Hall, or did you try to findus?" said Christie pleasantly.
"Partly promiskuss, and partly coincident, Miss Christie, one up andt'other down," said Dick lightly. "Work being slack at present atDevil's Ford, I reck'ned I'd take a pasear down to 'Frisco, and dip intothe vortex o' fash'nable society and out again." He lightly waved anew handkerchief to illustrate his swallow-like intrusion. "This yerminglin' with the bo-tong is apt to be wearisome, ez you and me knows,unless combined with experience and judgment. So when them boys upthere allows that there's a little too much fash'nable society and SanFrancisco capital and high-falutin' about the future goin' on fer squaresurface mining, I sez, 'Look yere, gentlemen,' sez I, 'you don't see thepint. The pint is to get the pop'lar eye fixed, so to speak, on Devil'sFord. When a fash'nable star rises above the 'Frisco horizon--like MissCarr--and, so to speak, dazzles the gineral eye, people want to knowwho she is. And when people say that's the accomplished daughter o' theaccomplished superintendent of the Devil's Ford claim--otherwise knownas the Star-eyed Goddess o' Devil's Ford--every eye is fixed on themine, and Capital, so to speak, tumbles to her.' And when they sez thatthe old man--excuse my freedom, but that's the way the boys talk of yourfather, meaning no harm--the old man, instead o' trying to corral richwidders--grass or otherwise--to spend their money on the big works forthe gold that ain't there yet--should stay in Devil's Ford and put allhis sabe and genius into grindin' out the little gold that is there, Isez to them that it ain't your father's style. 'His style,' sez I, 'ezto go in and build them works.' When they're done he turns round toCapital, and sez he--'Look yer,' sez he, 'thar's all the works youwant, first quality--cost a million; thar's all the water you want,onlimited--cost another million; thar's all the pay gravel you wantin and outer the ground--call it two millions more. Now my time's toovally'ble; my professhun's too high-toned to WORK mines. I MAKE 'em.Hand me over a check for ten millions and call it square, and work itfor yourself.' So Capital hands over the money and waltzes down to runthe mine, and you original locators walks round with yer hands in yerpockets a-top of your six million profit, and you let's Capital take thework and the responsibility."
Preposterous as this seemed from the lips of Whiskey Dick, Christiehad a haunting suspicion that it was not greatly unlike the theoriesexpounded by the clever young banker who had been her escort. She didnot interrupt his flow of reminiscent criticism; when he paused forbreath, she said, quietly:
"I met Mr. George Kearney the other day in the country."
Whiskey Dick stopped awkwardly, glanced hurriedly at Christie, andcoughed behind his handkerchief.
"Mr. Kearney--eh--er--certengly--yes--er--met him, you say. Washe--er--er--well?"
"In health, yes; but otherwise he has lost everything," said Christie,fixing her eyes on the embarrassed Dick.
"Yes--er--in course--in course--" continued Dick, nervously glancinground the apartment as if endeavoring to find an opening to some lessabrupt statement of the fact.
"And actually reduced to take some menial employment," added Christie,still regarding Dick with her clear glance.
"That's it--that's just it," said Dick, beaming as he suddenly found hisdelicate and confidential opportunity. "That's it, Miss Christie; that'sjust what I was sayin' to the boys. 'Ez it the square thing,' sez I,'jest because George hez happened to hypothecate every dollar he has,or expects to hev, to put into them works, only to please Mr. Carr, andjust because he don't want to distress that intelligent gentleman byletting him see he's dead broke--for him to go and demean himself andDevil's Ford by rushing away and hiring out as a Mexican vaqueroon Mexican wages? Look,' sez I, 'at the disgrace he brings upon ahigh-toned, fash'nable girl, at whose side he's walked and danced, andpassed rings, and sentiments, and bokays in the changes o' the cotillionand the mizzourka. And wot,' sez I, 'if some day, p
rancing along in afash'nable cavalcade, she all of a suddents comes across him drivin' aMexican steer?' That's what I said to the boys. And so you met him, MissChristie, as usual," continued Dick, endeavoring under the appearanceof a large social experience to conceal an eager anxiety to know thedetails--"so you met him; and, in course, you didn't let on yer knewhim, so to speak, nat'rally, or p'raps you kinder like asked him to fixyour saddle-girth, and give him a five-dollar piece--eh?"
Christie, who had risen and gone to the window, suddenly turned a verypale face and shining eyes on Dick.
"Mr. Hall," she said, with a faint attempt at a smile, "we are oldfriends, and I feel I can ask you a favor. You once before acted as ourescort--it was for a short but a happy time--will you accept a largertrust? My father is busy in Sacramento for the mine: will you, withoutsaying anything to anybody, take Jessie and me back at once to Devil'sFord?"
"Will I? Miss Christie," said Dick, choking between an intensegratification and a desire to keep back its vulgar exhibition, "I shallbe proud!"
"When I say keep it a secret"--she hesitated--"I don't mean that Iobject to your letting Mr. Kearney, if you happen to know where he is,understand that we are going back to Devil's Ford."
"Cert'nly--nat'rally," said Dick, waving his hand gracefully;"sorter drop him a line, saying that bizness of a social and delicatenature--being the escort of Miss Christie and Jessie Carr to Devil'sFord--prevents my having the pleasure of calling."
"That will do very well, Mr. Hall," said Christie, faintly smilingthrough her moist eyelashes. "Then will you go at once and securetickets for to-night's boat, and bring them here? Jessie and I willarrange everything else."
"Cert'nly," said Dick impulsively, and preparing to take a gracefulleave.
"We'll be impatient until you return with the tickets," said Christiegraciously.
Dick shook hands gravely, got as far as the door, and paused.
"You think it better to take the tickets now?" he said dubiously.
"By all means," said Christie impetuously. "I've set my heart on goingto-night--and unless you secure berths early--"
"In course--in course," interrupted Dick nervously. "But--"
"But what?" said Christie impatiently.
Dick hesitated, shut the door carefully, and, looking round theroom, lightly shook out his handkerchief, apparently flicked away anembarrassing suggestion, and said, with a little laugh:
"It's ridiklous, perfectly ridiklous, Miss Christie; but not bein' inthe habit of carryin' ready money, and havin' omitted to cash a draft onWells, Fargo & Co.--"
"Of course," said Christie rapidly. "How forgetful I am! Pray forgiveme, Mr. Hall. I didn't think. I'll run up and get it from our host; hewill be glad to be our banker."
"One moment, Miss Christie," said Dick lightly, as his thumb and fingerrelaxed in his waistcoat pocket over the only piece of money in theworld that had remained to him after his extravagant purchase ofChristie's saffrona rose, "one moment: in this yer monetary transaction,if you like, you are at liberty to use MY name."