by Mayne Reid
probability would have returned to a morevigorous use of his horsewhip, had his victim been still within reach;but Dick had secured himself against farther punishment, by taking tohis heels, and placing a wide distance between himself and his iratepastor.
Next day, Dick was brought before a magistrate, the Reverend Grievous,upon oath, being compelled to make a somewhat true statement of theaffair. The justice had no other course than to discharge the prisoner,which he did with reluctance--expressing regret that the strict letterof the law did not allow him to deal with the offence in the manner itso justly merited!
His native village no longer afforded a peaceful home for Dick Guinane.
He was pointed at in the streets. Other boys of his age were forbiddenby their parents to play with him; and the little school girls crossedthe road in terror, as they saw him approach. In the opinion of thevillagers, he had reached the climax of earthly iniquity.
He was sent to reside with an uncle--his mother's brother--who lived inthe city of New York. Before leaving his native place, he attempted tomake a call on Amanda Milne; but was met at the door by her mother, whorefused either to admit him within the house, or allow her daughter tosee him.
Shortly after reaching his new home in the great city, he received aletter from his mother--enclosing a note from Amanda, the contents ofwhich partly repaid him for all the injuries he had suffered.
During a residence of five years in New York, he was unsuccessful ineverything he undertook; and, unfortunately, though from no fault of hisown, lost the confidence of his uncle, as also his protection.
He returned to his native village, where he found that he was stillremembered with disfavour.
He talked of love to Amanda Milne; but his suit was rejected. Sheadmitted being much prepossessed in his favour, and that he had no rivalin her affections; but what woman can brave the ridicule of all heracquaintances, and the anger of an only parent, by accepting a loveruniversally shunned and condemned?
Dick once more bade adieu to his native village; and after variousvicissitudes in different cities of the United States, at length foundhis way to California. He had been one of the most fortunate miners onthe Feather river; and had invested the money made there in a dry goodsstore in San Francisco.
Just one week after entering upon his new business, the city of SanFrancisco was burnt to the ground; and Dick's dry goods store, includingthe contents, along with it.
With only one hundred dollars in his purse, he again started for thediggings; and it was while journeying thither that he and I cametogether, and entered into partnership as above related.
Volume One, Chapter XXI.
After breaking ground upon the Stanislaus, we toiled for three weekswithout any success. Every one around us seemed to be doing well; butthe several mining claims worked by Guinane and myself seemed to be theonly places in the valley of the Stanislaus where no gold existed. Nota grain rewarded our labours.
"For your sake we had better part company," said Guinane to me oneevening, after we had toiled hard all day, and obtained nothing. "Youwill never have any luck, so long as you are my partner."
I was inclined to think there was some truth in what my comrade said;but I did not like the idea of leaving a man, merely because he had beenunfortunate.
"Your fate cannot long contend with mine," I answered. "I am one of themost fortunate fellows in the world. If we continue to act inpartnership, my good fortune will, in time, overcome the ill-luck thatattends upon you. Let us keep together awhile longer."
"Very well," assented Guinane, "but I warn you that some one above--orbelow, may be--has a `down' on me; and the good genius attending youwill need to be very powerful to make things square. However, you leadthe way, and I will follow."
I did lead the way; and we went to Sonora, further south, where weentered upon a claim at a place called Dry Creek. Here we met withsuccess, of which we could not reasonably complain.
We often used to walk into Sonora in the evening; and amuse ourselves,by witnessing the scenes occurring in the gambling houses, or having adance with the bright-eyed Mexican senoritas.
One evening, while loitering about in one of the gambling houses, we sawa digger who was intoxicated, almost to the degree of drunkenness. Hewas moving about in half circles over the floor, keeping his feet underhim with much difficulty, unknown to himself. Every now and then, heloudly declared his intention of going home, as if he thought such aproceeding on his part, was one in which all around him must be highlyinterested. Each time, before going, he would insist upon havinganother drink; and this continued, until he had swallowed severalglasses of brandy, on the top of those that had already produced hisintoxication. In paying for these drinks, he pulled out a bag of golddust, which carried, judging from its size, about one hundred ounces;and a man behind the bar, weighed from it the few specks required inpayment for the liquor.
There was something in the appearance of this miner that strangelyinterested me. I fancied that I had seen him before; but could not tellwhere. While I was endeavouring to identify him, he staggered out ofthe house into the street--leaving me in doubt, as to whether we had metbefore or not.
The thoughts of my companion Guinane, were not absorbed by wanderingslike mine; and he had been more observant of what was transpiring aroundhim. After the miner had gone out, he came close up to me, andwhispered:--
"That man will be robbed. When he pulled out his bag of gold to pay forthe drink, I saw two men exchange glances, and walk out before him.They will waylay, and rob him. Shall we let them do it?"
"Certainly not," I answered, "I like the look of the man; and do notthink that he deserves to lose his money."
"Come on then!" said Guinane; and we both stepped out into the street.
The first direction in which we turned was the wrong one: for, afterproceeding about a hundred yards, nothing of the drunken man was to beseen; and we knew that he was too drunk to have got any farther away.
We turned back; and walked at a quick pace--indeed, ran--in the oppositedirection. This time our pursuit was more successful. We saw thedrunken miner lying on the pavement, with two men standing over him, whopretended, as we came up, that they were his friends; and that they wereendeavouring to get him home.
Had the drunken man been willing to accept of their assistance, we mighthave found no excuse for interfering; but as we drew near, we could hearhim exclaiming, "Avast there, mates! I can navigate for myself. Beoff, or, dammee! I'll teach you manners."
"Stormy Jack!" I exclaimed, rushing forward, followed by Guinane."'Tis you Stormy? What's wrong? Do you want any help?"
"Yes," replied Jack, "teach these fellows some manners for me. My legsare too drunk; and I can't do so myself."
The two men moved silently, but rapidly away.
"Have you got your gold?" I asked, ready for pursuit in case thefellows had robbed him.
"Yes, that's all right. One of them tried to take it; but I wouldn'tlet him. I'm sober enough for that. It's only my legs that be drunk.My hands are all right."
Stormy's legs were indeed drunk, so much so, that Guinane and I had muchdifficulty in getting him along. We were obliged to place him betweenus, each supporting one of his sides. After considerable labour, wesucceeded in taking him to a house where I was acquainted. Here we puthim to bed; and, after leaving instructions with the landlord, not tolet him depart until one of us should return, we went home to our ownlodgings.
Next morning, at an early hour, I called to see Stormy; and found himawake and waiting for me.
"You done me a good turn last night," said he, "and I shall not forgetit, as I have you."
"Why do you think you have forgotten me?" I asked.
"Because last night you called me Stormy Jack; and from that, I know youmust have seen me before. I've not been hailed by that name for severalyears. Now, don't tell me who you are: for I want to find out formyself."
"You could not have been very drunk last night," said I
, "or you wouldnot remember what you were called?"
"Yes, would I," answered Stormy, "according as the land lay, or whatsort of drunk it was. Sometimes my mind gets drunk, and sometimes mylegs. It's not often they both get drunk together. Last night it wasthe legs. Had you been a man six or seven years ago, when I was calledStormy Jack, I should remember you: for I've got a good memory of thingsthat don't change much. But when I used to be called Stormy Jack, youmust have been a bit o' a tiny boy. Now, who can you be? What a stupidmemory I've got!" continued he, scratching his head. "There's no way ofteaching it manners, as I knows of. But what boy used to call me StormyJack--that looked as you ought to have looked a few years ago? Ah! nowI have it. Bless my eyes, if you arn't the Rollin' Stone!"
Stormy then rushed