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Sally Dows

Page 36

by Bret Harte

Cousin John bringing up therear--at last succeeded in reaching it, and were rejoiced to findthemselves near old Lane's half-ruined cabin. To their added joy andastonishment, whiffs of whirling smoke were issuing from the crumblingchimney. They ran to the crazy door, pushed aside its weak fastening,and found--Uncle Sylvester calmly enjoying a pipe before a blazing fire.A small pickaxe and crowbar were lying upon a mound of freshly turnedearth beside the chimney, where the rotten flooring had been torn up.

  The tumultuous entrance of the skating party required no explanation;but when congratulations had been exchanged, the wet snow shaken off,and they had drawn round the fire, curious eyes were cast upon thesolitary occupant and the pile of earth and debris before him.

  "I believe," said Gabriel laughingly, "that you have been so bored herethat you have actually played at gold-hunting for amusement."

  Uncle Sylvester took the pipe from his mouth and nodded.

  "It's a common diversion of yours," said Marie audaciously.

  Uncle Sylvester smiled sweetly.

  "And have you been successful THIS TIME?" asked Marie.

  "I got the color."

  "Eh?"

  Uncle Sylvester rose and placed himself with his back to the fire,gently surveying the assembled group.

  "I was interrupted in a story of gold-digging last evening," he saidblandly. "How far had I got?"

  "You were down on the San Joaquin River in the spring of '50, with achap named Flint," chorused Cousins Jane and Emma promptly.

  "Ah! yes," said Uncle Sylvester. "Well, in those days there was ascarcity of money in the diggings. Gold dust there was in plenty, but noCOIN. You can fancy it was a bother to weigh out a pinch of dust everytime you wanted a drink of whiskey or a pound of flour; but there wasno other legal tender. Pretty soon, however, a lot of gold and silverpieces found their way into circulation in our camp and the camps aroundus. They were foreign--old French and English coins. Here's one ofthem that I kept." He took from his pocket a gold coin and handed it toGabriel.

  Lane rose to his feet with an exclamation:

  "Why, this is like the louis-d'or that grandfather saved through the warand gave to father."

  Uncle Sylvester took the coin back, placed it in his left eye, like amonocle, and winked gravely at the company.

  "It is the SAME!" he went on quietly. "I was interested, for I had agood memory, and I remembered that, as a boy, grandfather had shownme one of those coins and told me he was keeping them for old Jules duPage, who didn't believe in banks and bank-notes. Well, I traced them toa trader called Flint, who was shipping gold dust from Stockton to PeterGunn & Sons, in New York."

  "To whom?" asked Gabriel quickly.

  "Old Gunn--the father of your friend!" said Uncle Sylvester blandly. "Wetalked the matter over on our way to the station this morning. Well, toreturn. Flint only said that he had got them from a man called Thompson,who had got them from somebody else in exchange for goods. A year ortwo afterwards this same Thompson happened to be frozen up with me inStarvation Camp. When he thought he was dying he confessed that he hadbeen bribed by Flint to say what he had said, but that he believed thecoins were stolen. Meantime, Flint had disappeared. Other things claimedmy attention. I had quite forgotten him, until one night, five yearsafterwards, I blundered into a deserted mining-camp, by falling asleepon my mule, who carried me across a broken flume, but--I think I toldyou that story already."

  "You never finished it," said Cousin Jane sharply.

  "Let me do so now, then. I was really saved by some Indians, who took mefor a spirit up aloft there in the moonlight and spread the alarm. Thefirst white man they brought me was a wretched drunkard known to theboys as 'Old Fusil,' or 'Fusel Oil,' who went into delirium tremens atthe sight of me. Well, who do you suppose he turned out to be? Flint!Flint played out and ruined! Cast off and discarded by his relations inNew York--the foundation of whose fortunes he had laid by the villainythey had accepted and condoned. For Flint, as the carpenter of the oldhomestead, had discovered the existence of a bricked closet in the wallof father's study, partitioned it off so that he could break into itwithout detection and rifle it at his leisure, and who had thus carriedoff that part of grandfather's hoard which father had concealed there.He knew it could never be missed by the descendants. But, through hasteor ignorance, he DID NOT TOUCH THE PAPERS and documents also hiddenthere. And THEY told of the existence of grandfather's second cache, orhiding-place, beneath this hearth, and were left for me to discover."

  He coolly relit his pipe, fixed his eyes on Marie without apparentlypaying attention to the breathless scrutiny of the others, and went on:"Flint, alias Pierre a Fusil, alias Gunn, died a maniac. I resolved totest the truth of his story. I came here. I knew the old homestead, asa boy who had wandered over every part of it, far better than you,Gabriel, or any one. The elder Gunn had only heard of it through thecriminal disclosure of his relative, and only wished to absorb itthrough his son in time, and thus obliterate all trace of Flint'soutrage. I recognized the room perfectly--thanks to our dear Kitty, whohad taken up the carpet, which thus disclosed the loose plank before thecloset that was hidden by the partition. Under pretext of rearrangingthe room--for which Kitty will forgive me--I spent the day behind alocked door, making my way through the partition. There I found therifled closet, but the papers intact. They contained a full descriptionof the sum taken by Flint, and also of a larger sum buried in a caskbeside this chimney. I had just finished unearthing it a few momentsbefore you came. I had at first hoped to offer it to the family as aChristmas gift to-morrow, but"--He stopped and sucked slowly at hispipe.

  "We anticipated you," said Gabriel laughing.

  "No," said Uncle Sylvester coolly. "But because it don't happen tobelong to YOU at all! According to the paper I have in my pocket, whichis about as legal a document as I ever saw, it is father's free gift toMiss Marie du Page."

  Kitty threw her arms around her white and breathless friend witha joyful cry, and honest Gabriel's face shone with unselfishgratification.

  "For yourself, my dear Gabriel, you must be satisfied with the fact thatMessrs. Peter Gunn & Sons will take back your wildcat stock at the priceyou paid for it. It is the price they pay for their share in this littletransaction, as I had the honor of pointing out to Mr. Gunn on our wayto the station this morning."

  "Then you think that young Mr. Gunn knew that Flint was his relation,and that he had stolen father's money," said Kitty, "and that Mr. Gunnonly wanted to"--She stopped, with flashing eyes.

  "I think he would have liked to have made an arrangement, my dear,that would keep the secret and the property in the family," said UncleSylvester. "But I don't think he suspected the existence of the secondtreasure here."

  "And then, sir," said Cousin Jane, "it appears that all these wretched,unsatisfactory scraps of stories you were telling us were nothing afterall but"--

  "My way of telling THIS one," said Uncle Sylvester.

  As the others were eagerly gathering around the unearthed treasure,Marie approached him timidly, all her audacity gone, tears in her eyes,and his ring held hesitatingly between her fingers. "How can I thankyou--and how CAN you ever forgive me?"

  "Well," said Uncle Sylvester, gazing at her critically, "you might keepthe ring to think over it."

 



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