by Zane Grey
“Men, I never got to Boise. I never got away from Challis.... We must have been watched an’ suspected. Mebbe some sharp-eyed claim-jumpers saw me unpack my burros. It was all I could do to lift thet chunk of quartz. I hid it under my bed....Wal, I had a few drinks thet night. But I wasn’t drunk or near drunk. I was in possession of all my faculties. An’ when I was slugged from behind I fell an’ seen the man who hit me before he knocked me out. He was youngish, had a big round head with short hair, an’ deep eyes like gimlets——”
“Gentlemen,” Kalispel’s voice rang out, “that description fits perfectly the man Selback I shot here the day I arrived. He was a guard at the quartz mine an’ tried to throw his rifle on me.”
Leavitt pounded the table furiously. “Another interruption will end this case,” he shouted.
“Wal, men,” resumed Jake, “when I come to I was lyin’ in a shack an’ damn near dead. An’ old fellar named Wilson had took pity on me an’ took me in. I’d been crazy for weeks. You don’t have to look close to see where I was hit.” Here Jake bent his head to show bare, livid scars over his temple. “An’ it was weeks more before I was strong enough to start back here. Accordin’ to Wilson, the day followin’ my accident Leavitt an’ Selback packed in a hurry an’ left for parts unknown. Some more men, known to be thick with Leavitt, left the next day, then muies loaded down with supplies an’ minin’-tools. Thet started the stampede....Then, the rest you know. An’ as Gawd is my witness I have told the truth!”
Emerson ended amid a breathless silence and Leavitt arose. His strong face was white with suppressed emotion which might have been anger. But to Kalispel it was that and more. Leavitt had no fear of losing the quartz mine. But he did have fear that he would lose his life. The menace of Jake Emerson could be felt by all. Moreover, Leavitt had for a second time met Kalispel’s steely-cold gaze.
“Gentlemen, I represent the Leavitt Mining Co.,” he began, clearing his throat. “And I am the only one living of the two men who found the open quartz claim.... So far as Emerson’s testimony reflects upon me, I merely deny. He did arrive in Challis. He did get drunk. He did talk and he did get into a brawl in a saloon. But I heard about that after the stampede was well on here. Selback had the hunch to come in here. I never knew where he got it. That, however, is of no importance, because when we got here we found the quartz mine open. The ground had been stripped, the lode exposed, and the gold vein was shining in the sun. But there was no miner. He had been there days before, but he was gone. Gone, gentlemen! We hunted and hunted, yet found no other trace of him than the few tools and camp equipment he had left behind. I had a perfect right to take the claim, which I did. That’s my testimony and that is all. You will please vote as you see fit.”
In silence the miners dropped their votes into the hat Lowrie passed. When the contents were emptied on the table Leavitt said: “I cannot take part in the counting. Emerson, you are invited to sit with the recorder and count these votes.”
Borden presently called out impressively: “Leavitt Mining Company sixty-six. Emerson twenty-two.”
Kalispel riveted his gaze upon Leavitt. That individual, despite an iron nerve, showed the stress of the climax, and that fury had been added to his other feelings.
“Give me those twenty-two names,” he hissed livid of face, and snatching the papers from Borden he scanned them with a mein that boded no good for these voters. Some miner yelled out the window: “Leavitt sixty-six. Emerson twenty-two.”
Loud huzzahs did not drown yells of derision. The verdict was not unanimous. Leavitt could not have failed to hear that vote of discord.
Then Jake Emerson confronted the three officers on the platform.
“You win, as we knowed you’d win,” he boomed in his sonorous voice. “But you haven’t heard the last of this deal.”
Kalispel leaped to the side of his brother.
“Leavitt, that last will come when Sam returns—or we find his body!”
Jake Emerson located an obscure claim and went to work, a gloomy, taciturn, defeated man, brooding revenge. Kalispel took to hunting, and packing elk and deer meat down off the high slopes and swales. About half his time was required to fulfill the obligations he had made. The rest he utilized working his claim, which still yielded gold. He had become obsessed with the idea that somewhere inside the claim he had walled off there might be another and the largest pocket of nuggets. These nuggets he had found appeared to have been melted and therefore must have encountered volcanic action.
In midsummer the peak of the stampede was reached and Thunder City saw its heyday. Gamblingdens, saloons, and dance-halls, reaped a rich harvest. Several shooting escapades, and a fatal encounter between Lowrie and a drunken miner, with an increase of banditry, augured ill for the future of the gold-diggings.
Kalispel celebrated the first of August by taking a full tin can of gold nuggets out of a hole no deeper than his waist. He did not tell Jake, much as he wanted to help that morose brother. The last thing Kalispel desired was for miners and robbers to learn he had struck gold. Besides, of late, Jake had taken to searching for Sam’s body, which he claimed to have seen in a dream.
Two or three times a week Kalispel would go to the town in the evenings and develop his interesting and risky friendship with Nugget or watch Blair’s gambling vicissitudes.
At length Kalispel’s opportunity arrived when he found Blair sitting in a game of poker with Pritchard, Selby, and two miners he did not know. For a change Blair was winning, which fact was obvious to all from his radiance and frequent call for drinks. Pritchard was a loser, but that fact could not have been deduced from his cold pale face and impenetrable eyes. Kalispel saw how the fickle luck went against him; and as the stakes were heavy, the gambler would certainly have to resort to trickery to recoup. Coin, currency, and small ounce-sacks of gold dust furnished the medium for betting, and the game was one of table stakes.
Kalispel watched from a vantage point behind Pritchard and out of his sight. It appeared evident that Pritchard’s ally was aware of Kalispel’s presence, yet nothing came of that fact.
Finally the tide turned against Blair and he lost the pile of gold in front of him, most of which flowed to Selby. One of the miners was under the influence of drink and scarcely knew one card from another. The second, a sharp-eyed young giant, had begun to get suspicious. Then a jack-pot was started which progressed inordinately before it was opened. Pritchard was the dealer and this was his chance. As cards were dealt Kalispel casually stepped forward. Only an eye like his could have detected duplicity on the part of the gambler. At the right instant Kalispel shoved his gun hard into the gambler’s side.
“Pritchard, if you move a finger I’ll bore you,” he called, in a voice to silence the room.
“What the...Who—?” gasped Pritchard, his face becoming ashen in hue.
“You know who....Blair, turn his hand upside down—the left one.”
Blair, staring aghast, did as he was bidden, disclosing neatly palmed in the long white hand the aces of spades and diamonds. Selby cursed under his breath. The young miner leaped to his feet with an imprecation.
“Steady, all,” warned Kalispel, “else you’ll spoil the fun or scramble this cheat’s gizzard....Now turn over the cards he dealt himself.”
In these five cards were the two other aces.
“Only four aces!” drawled Kalispel. “Pritch, you pulled one at the wrong time.”
“——!” cursed the young giant, in a rage, and he threw his cards in the face of the gambler. “We’ll run you out of town for this.”
Selby, on the opposite side of the table, broke his stiff posture to jerk suddenly. He drew, but before he could get the gun above the table Kalispel shot him in the arm. He screamed with frenzy and pain, while the gun thumped to the floor. The gambling-den rang with loud shouts and scraping of chairs and stamping of boots. Selby appeared to be fainting and fell over the table.
“Push him off,” ordered Kalispel, who did not t
rust that move of Selby’s.
The stalwart miner gave him a shove, sending him to the floor, where it was manifest that Selby was not shamming. The young giant’s next move was to lunge across the table and knock Pritchard ten feet out of his chair. Moreover he leaped after the prostrate gambler and, seizing him with powerful hands, he dragged him across the floor, making a furrow in the saw-dust. And he threw Pritchard bodily out of the hall.
“Rustle, Pritchard, or you’ll get shot,” shouted the miner. “Some of us are gettin’ damn sick of gamblers, robbers, claim-jumpers, an’ such in these diggin’s.”
He strode back to the table and shoved a hand out to Kalispel, who could not accept it, as he still had his gun extended.
“Emerson, you don’t know me, but I know you,” declared the miner, in no uncertain voice. “My name’s Jeffries. Thanks for interferin’. I’m strong for you. An’ there are a good many more in the same boat.”
“Much obliged, Kal,” added Blair, pale and shaken. “I should have taken your advice.”
“Damnation!” ejaculated Jeffries. “Can’t we play a little poker in this camp without bein’ skinned?”
Kalispel waved Blair out and backed away from the crowd. Haskell might still have to be reckoned with. Gaining the outside, Kalispel joined Blair and hurried away up the street. Kalispel cursed him roundly.
“Man, you’ll be ruined if you’re not shot,” he ended, passionately. “An’ that’ll leave Sydney at the mercy of Leavitt. Then I’ll have to kill him an’ get run out of town myself.”
They found Sydney on the porch in the moonlight with the very man Kalispel had mentioned. Anyone with half an eye could have seen that Leavitt had been making love to the girl. Kalispel certainly had murder in his heart.
“Leavitt, you better hurry downtown,” said Blair. “Kalispel shot another man. It happened in your crooked gambling-joint.”
“Oh, Dad!” cried Sydney, as Leavitt, leaving her abruptly, strode off the far end of the porch and went around the cabin.
Blair sat down upon the steps and wiped his wet face. Kalispel stood in the moonlight, gazing up at the girl.
“You—you devil!” she cried, in a low choking voice.
“Hey, do you mean me or your dad?” drawled Kal-ispel.
“I mean you. And Dad is as bad—only he’s a coward instead.”
“Wal, if you mean me—shore it takes devils like me to save bull-headed old geezers like your father.”
“Dad, what have you—done now?”
“Nothing. I was playing cards. Got way ahead. Then lost. That gambler Pritchard cheated. Kal showed him up. And then Pritchard’s partner Selby pulled his gun. Kal shot him, that’s all.”
“Killed—him?” whispered Sydney, in horror.
“For Heaven’s sake, no! Jake shot the gun out of his hand. It’d been a damn good thing if he had killed the blighter....Kal, come to think of it—who ought to clean up on that last deal?”
Kalispel threw up his hands as if to indicate to Sydney that her parent was hopeless.
“Daughter, it looked mighty like Leavitt was making love to you,” went on Blair.
“Yes? Well, if he was, you may be sure that I sanctioned it,” she retorted.
“I won’t have it,” stormed Blair. “Leavitt is not what he seems.”
“Unfortunately, that applies to the majority of men,” replied Sydney, bitterly. “I have found it true of two, at least.”
“Sydney Blair, I never was two-faced,” exclaimed Kalispel, with passion. “If I were that kind, I could tell you something about Leavitt which would make you despise him.”
“Rand Leavitt is a handsome, generous, splendid man,” she flashed, “and I am considering his offer of marriage.”
“Wal, darlin’,” drawled Kalispel, cool and hard, “consider all you like. But you won’t marry him.”
“Don’t dare call me—that. I am not your darling. And why have you the—the effrontery to say I won’t marry him?”
“Do you see this lovely little plaything, shinin’ in the moonlight?” taunted Kalispel, as he flipped his gun up and caught it.
“Oh-oh—You are a monster—or you are mad.”
“Shore. Good night, darlin’.”
The next day was Saturday, a drowsy summer day, with a hint of blue haze in the air and the smell of fall. Kalispel happened to meet Nugget on the street. In everyday costume, free of the scant and alluring attire of the dance-hall, she made a pretty graceful figure. Kalispel did not need to be asked twice to accompany her to Reed’s store. As luck would have it, Leavitt and Sydney appeared coming down the street.
“Look! There’s my secret admirer with the Blair girl,” said Nugget, laughing. “Funny thing—life!...Kalispel, do you know her?”
“I’ve met her,” replied he.
“She’s lovely. What a damned shame if she’s stuck on that hypocrite!”
“Nugget, when we pass them I dare you to speak to him.”
“Never took a dare in my life....It might be a hunch to her.”
Perhaps twenty paces distant, Sydney looked up to espy Kalispe! and his companion. Suddenly a blazing scarlet blush suffused her face. It waved away as swiftly, leaving her pale, with great tragic eyes staring straight ahead. Because of her strange reaction, which staggered Kalispel, he could not look at Leavitt.
“Howdy, Rand,” called Nugget, with the most innocent, smiling naïveté.
Then the couples passed each other and Nugget turned to her companion. “Gosh! but he’ll murder me! ...Did you see her blush....Why, Kalispel, you’re as white as a sheet!”
“Am I? Wal, I feel yellow.”
“Ashamed to be seen with me?”
“Not on your life! I was glad, an’ don’t forget it.... Nugget, that’s the girl who broke my heart.”
“You don’t say! The Blair girl!” she whispered, excitedly. “Oh, Kalispel, she is lovely. You poor fellow! Now I understand you and I like you better than ever. You’re true to that proud girl, though she passes you scornfully on the street. And Leavitt, the skunk, parades along with her, doing the elegant—and after dark, late at night, slips in the back door to try to make love to me....I’ll be darned if I don’t tell her!”
“Nugget, that’d be doin’ her a good turn,” replied Kalispel, hopefully.
“Boy, if I know girls, she didn’t burn like a house afire for nothing when she recognized you. Kalispel, I’ll bet she’s in love with you.”
“Aw, Nugget, don’t handle words so horrible careless.”
“I’ll bet it,” she went on, vehemently. “Did she ever love you?”
“I reckon so. A little.”
“Then it’s a lot now. Nothing like jealousy to show a woman’s heart! She saw us—she thought you were sweet on the little blond dance-hall girl. She gave herself away.”
“No—no! It’s only worse. She’ll like him all the more.”
“Listen, pard,” whispered the girl, wickedly. “If she does I can tell her something that will kill it pronto. And if not, I can tell you something that will make you kill him pronto.”
“Nugget!” cried Kalispel.
“That’s all now. Here’s the store. Don’t give up, cowboy—Tell Dick I’ll meet him tonight, right after supper.”
CHAPTER
* * *
8
KALISPEL was scraping and stretching an elk hide when his young friend, Dick Sloan, put in an appearance.
“Howdy, Dick. You’re not pannin’ gold while the sun shines,” was Kalispel’s greeting.
“I don’t care,” replied the youth, flinging himself down.
It was then that Kalispel glanced up from his work. Dick was a fair-haired and frank-faced young fellow of twenty-two, lately come to Thunder City, and had at once taken a liking to Kalispel. The mining-camp was not the best place in the world for Dick, and this morning he looked it.
“Had a scrap with Nugget?” asked Kalispel, intuitively.
“Not exactly. But she—dished me,�
�� rejoined Dick, miserably.
“Dished you?—Wal, the fickle little devil! She swore she liked you.”
“I thought so, too.”
“Did she meet you last night?”
“Yes. An’ we walked across the bridge. She was different, somehow. Sort of cold an’ gloomy. Wouldn’t let me touch her. I smelled liquor on her. I hate thet, an’ I scolded her fierce. She took it so quiet I was sorry. Then she said: ‘Dick, my boss says you interfere with my business. You take my time. An’ you don’t drink or gamble. There’s nothin’ in it for the house. So I’ll have to give up seeing you any more.’ ”
“Wal, I’m damned! Doesn’t sound like Nugget.... An’ what’d you say to that, Dick?”
“I told her I’d drink an’ gamble. My claim is cornin’ out fine, Kalispel. You can never tell about gold-diggin’s. My neighbor, an old miner, says I’ll strike it rich. So I can afford to take Nugget’s time.”
“Ah-huh. An’ what’d she say to that?”
“She wouldn’t hear of it. First she talked sense to me, an’ seein’ that was no good, she pitched into me proper. Then I told her there wasn’t any use—that I loved her an’ wanted to marry her an’ take her away from thet rotten dance-hall.”
“The devil you did? Gosh! Dick, you are gone. An’ all my fault! What’d I do it for? ...An’ how’d Nugget take that?”
“Kind of shocked her,” replied Sloan. “We were walkin’ back an’ had just got to the bridge. She stopped to lean on the rail. Burst out cryin’....I was plumb near cryin’ myself—she looked so forlorn an’ pretty in the moonlight. But she got over it quick an’ walked on. ‘Thanks, Dick, for askin’ me. I’m sorry I can’t.’—I asked her why she couldn’t an’ she told me didn’t care for me. An’ I said she had cared at first. She’d admitted it, an’ kissed me, too. I kept naggin’ her all the way back. Finally she laughed sort of mockin’ an’ said: ‘You poor kid! Mebbe I’m in love with Cliff Borden!’—Then she left me.”