Silver and Gold: A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER IX

  BIBLE-BACK MURRAY

  As a matter of form Denver went with the Professor and inspected hisboasted mine but all the time his mind was far away and his heart wasbeating fast. The vein of silver that Bunker Hill had shown him wasworth a thousand dollars anywhere; but, situated as it was on the nextclaim to the Lost Burro, it was worth incalculably more. It was too gooda claim to let get away and as he listened perfunctorily to theProfessor's patter he planned how he would open it up. First he wouldshoot off the face, to be sure there was no salting, and send off somesamples to the assayer; and then he would drive straight in on the veinas long as his money lasted. And if it widened out, if it dipped andwent down, he would know for a certainty that it was the silver treasurethat good old Mother Trigedgo had prophesied. But to carry out theprophecy, to choose well between the two, he gazed gravely at theProfessor's strip of gold-ore.

  It was a knife-blade stringer, a mere seam of rotten quartz runningalong the side of a canyon; and yet not without its elements of promise,for it was located near another big fault. In geological days therim-rock had been rent here as it had at Queen Creek Canyon and thisstringer of quartz might lead to a golden treasure that would farsurpass Bunker's silver. But the signs were all against it and as Denverturned back the Professor read the answer in his eyes.

  "Vell, vat you t'ink?" he demanded insistently, "vas I right or vas Iwrong? Ain't I showed you the golt--and I'll tell you anodder t'ing, dismine vill pay from the start. You can pick out dat rich quartz and packit down to the crick and vash out the pure quill golt; but dat ore ofOld Bunk's is all mixed oop with lead and zinc, and with antimonia too.You vil haf to buy the sacks, and pay the freight, and the smeltercharges, too; and dese custom smelters they penalize you for everyt'ing,and cheat you out of what's left. Dey're nutting but a bunch of t'ievesand robbers----"

  "Aw, that's all right," broke in Denver impatiently, "for cripe's sake,give me a chance. I haven't bought your mine nor Bunk's mine either, andit don't do any good to talk. I'm going to rake this country with afine-tooth comb for claims that show silver and gold, and when I've seen'em all I'll buy or I won't, so you might as well let me alone."

  "Very vell, sir," began the Professor bristling with offended dignityand, seeing him prepared with a long-winded explanation, Denver turnedup the hill and quit him. He clambered up to the rim, dripping withsweat at every step, and all that day, while the heat waves blazed andshimmered, he prospected the face of the rim-rock. The hot stones burnedhis hands, he fought his way through thorns and catclaws and climbedaround yuccas and spiny cactus; but at the end of the long day, when hedragged back to camp, he had found nothing but barren holes. The countrywas pitted with open cuts and shallow prospect-holes, mostly dug to holddown worthless claims; and the second day and the third only served toraise his opinion of the claim that Bunker had showed him.

  On the fourth day he went back to it and prospected it thoroughly andthen he kept on around the shoulder of the hill and entered the countryto the north. Here the sedimentary rim-rock lay open as a book and as hefollowed along its face he found hole after hole pecked into onecopper-stained stratum. It was the same broad stratum of quartzitewhich, on coming to the creek, had dipped down into Bunker's claim; andnow Denver knew that others beside himself thought well of thatmineral-bearing vein. For the country was staked out regularly and ineach location monument there was the name Barney B. Murray.

  The steady panting of a gas-engine from somewhere in the distance drewDenver on from point to point and at last, in the bottom of a deep-cleftcanyon, he discovered the source of the sound. Huge dumps of white wastewere spewed out along the hillside, there were houses, a big tent andcriss-crossed trails; but the only sign of life was that _chuh_,_chuh_, of the engine and the explosive _blap_, _blaps_of an air compressor. It was Murray's camp, and the engine and thecompressor were driving his diamond drill.

  Denver looked about carefully for some sign of the armed guard and then,not too noisily, he went down the trail and followed along up the gulch.The drill, which was concealed beneath the big, conical tent, was set upin the very notch of the canyon, where it cut through the formation ofthe rim-rock; and Denver was more than pleased to see that it was fairlyon top of the green quartzite. He kept on steadily, still looking forthe guard, his prospector's pick well in front; and, just down the trailfrom the tented drill, he stopped and cracked a rock.

  "Hey! Get off this ground!" shouted a voice from the tent and as Denverlooked up a man stepped out with a rifle in his hand. "What are youdoing around here?" he demanded angrily and, as Denver made no answer,another man stepped out from behind. Then with a word to the guard hecame down the trail and Denver knew it was Murray himself.

  He was a tall, bony man with a flowing black beard and, hunched up abovehis shoulders, was the rounded hump which had given him the name of"Bible-Back." To counterbalance this curvature his head was craned back,giving him a bristling, aggressive air, and as he strode down towardsDenver his long, gorilla arms, extended almost down to his knees.

  "What are you doing here, young man?" he challenged harshly, "don't youknow that this ground is closed?"

  "Why, no," bluffed Denver, "you haven't got any signs out. What's allthe excitement about?"

  Bible-Back Murray paused and looked him over, and his prospector's pickand ore-sack, and a glint came into one eye. The other eye remainedfixed in a cold, rheumy stare, and Denver sensed that it was made ofglass.

  "Who are you working for?" rasped Murray and as he raised his voice theguard started down the dump.

  "I'm not working for anybody," answered Denver boldly, "I'm outprospecting along the edge of the rim."

  "Oh--prospecting," said Murray suddenly moderating his voice; and then,as the guard stood watching them narrowly, he gave way to a fatherlysmile. "Well, well," he exclaimed, "it's pretty hot for prospecting--youcan't see very well in this glare. Whereabouts have you made your camp?"

  "Over on the crick," answered Denver. "What have you got here, anyway?Is this that diamond drill?"

  "Never mind, now!" put in the guard who, anticipating a call-down forhis negligence, was in a distinctly hostile mood, "you know danged wellit is!"

  "Oh, I do, do I?" retorted Denver, "well, all right pardner, if you sayso; but you don't need to call me a liar!"

  He returned the guard's glare with an insulting sneer and Murray madehaste to intercede.

  "Now, now," he said, "let's not have any trouble. But of course you'veno business on this ground."

  "That's all right," defended Denver, "that don't give him a license topull any ranicky stuff. I'm as peaceable as anybody, but you can tellyour hired man he don't look bad to me."

  "That will do, Dave," nodded Murray and after another look at Denver,the guard turned back towards the tent.

  "Judas priest," observed Denver thrusting out his lip at the guard,"he's a regular gun-fighting boy. You must have something pretty goodhid away here somewhere, to call for a guard like that."

  "He's a dangerous man," replied Murray briefly, "I'd advise you not torouse him. But what do you think of our district, Mister--er----"

  "Russell," said Denver promptly, "my name is Denver Russell. I just cameover from Globe."

  "Glad to meet you," answered Murray extending a hairy hand, "my name isB. B. Murray. I'm the owner of all this ground."

  "'S that so?" murmured Denver, "well don't let me keep you."

  And he started off down the trail.

  "Hey, wait a minute!" protested Murray, "you don't need to go off mad.Sit down here in the shade--I want to have a talk with you."

  He stepped over to the shade of an abandoned cabin and Denver followedreluctantly. From the few leading questions which Mr. Murray hadpropounded he judged he was a hard man to evade; and, until he had gottitle to the claim on Queen Creek, it was advisable not to talk toomuch.

  "So you're just over from Globe, eh?" began Murray affably, "well, howare things over in that camp? Yes, I hear they are boom
ing--were youworking in the mines? What do you think of this country for copper?"

  "It sure looks _good_!" pronounced Denver unctuously, "I never sawa place that looked better. All this gossan and porphyry, and thatcopper stain up there--and just look at that dacite cap!"

  He waved his hand at the high cliff behind and Murray's eye became beadyand bright.

  "Yes," he said rubbing his horny hands together and gazing at Denverbenevolently, "we think the indications are good--were you thinking oflocating in these parts?"

  "No, just going through," answered Denver slowly. "I was camping by thecrick and saw that copper-stain, so I thought I'd follow it up. How farare you down with your drill?"

  "Quite a ways, quite a ways," responded Murray evasively. "You don'tlook like an ordinary prospector--who'd you say it was you were workingfor?"

  Denver turned and looked at him, and grunted contemptuously.

  "J. P. Morgan," he said and after a silence Murray answered with athin-lipped smile.

  "That's all right, that's all right," he said with a cackle. "No hardfeeling--I just wanted to know. You're an honest young man, but thereare others who are not, and we naturally like to inquire. Are youstaying with Mr. Hill?"

  "Well, not so you'd notice it," replied Denver brusquely. "I'm camped inthat cave across the crick."

  "Oh, is that so?" purred Murray driving relentlessly on in his quest forinformation, "did he show you any of his claims?"

  "He showed me one," answered Denver and, try as he would, he could notkeep his voice from changing.

  "Oh, I see," said Murray suddenly smiling triumphantly, "he showed youthat claim by the creek."

  "That's the one," admitted Denver, "and it sure looked good. Have yougot any interests over there?"

  "Not at present," returned Murray with a touch of asperity, "but let metell you a little about that claim. You're a stranger in these parts andit's only fair to warn you that the assessment work has never been done.He has no title, according to law; so you can govern your actionsaccordingly."

  "You mean," suggested Denver, "that all I have to do is to go in andjump the claim?"

  "Hell--no!" exclaimed Bible-Back startled out of his piosity. "I meanthat you had better not buy it."

  "Well, thanks," drawled Denver, "this is danged considerate of you.Shall I tell him you'll take it yourself?"

  "Certainly not!" snapped back Murray, "I've enough claims, already. I'mjust warning you for your own good."

  "Danged considerate," repeated Denver with a sarcastic smile, "and nowlet me ask _you_ something. Who told you I wanted to buy?"

  "Never mind!" returned Murray, "I've warned you, and that is enough."

  "Well, all right," agreed Denver, "but if you don't want ityourself----"

  "Young man!" exclaimed Murray suddenly rising to his feet and crookinghis neck like a crane, "I guess you know who I am. I can make or breakany man in this country, and I'm telling you now--don't you buy!"

  "I get you," answered Denver, and without arguing the point he rose upand went down the trail.