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

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER XVI

  A FRIEND

  A new spirit, a strange gladness, had come over Drusilla and parts whichhad been difficult became suddenly easy when she took up her work thenext day; but when she walked out in the cool of the evening thesombrero and boy's boots were gone. She wore a trailing robe, such asgreat ladies wear when they go to keep a tryst with knightly lovers, andshe went up the trail to where Denver was working on the last of herfather's claims. He was up on the high cliff, busily tamping the powderthat was to blast out the side of the hill, and she waited patientlyuntil he had fired it and come down the slope with his tools.

  "That makes four," he said, "and I'm all out of powder." But she onlyanswered with a smile.

  "I'll have to wait, now," he went on bluffly, "until McGraw comes upagain, before I can do any more work."

  "Yes," she answered and smiled again; a slow, expectant smile.

  "What's the matter?" he demanded and then his face changed and hefumbled with the strap of his canteen. And when he looked up his eyesmet hers and there was no longer any secret between them.

  "You can rest a few days, then," she suggested softly, "I'd like to hearsome of your records."

  "Yes--sure, sure," he burst out hastily and they walked down the trailtogether. She went on ahead with the quick step of a dancer and Denverlooked up at an eagle in the sky, as if in some way it could understand.But the eagle soared on, without effort and without ceasing, and Denvercould only be glad. In some way, far beyond him, she had divined hislove; but it was not to be spoken of--now. That would spoil it all, thedays of sweet communion, the pretence that nothing had changed; yet theyknew it had changed and in the sharing of that great secret lay the tiethat should bind them together. Denver looked from the eagle to theglorious woman and remembered the prophecy again. Even yet he mustbeware, he must veil every glance, treat her still like a simple countrychild; for the seeress had warned him that his fate hung in the balanceand she might still confer her hand upon another.

  In the happy days that followed he did no more work, further than tosack his ore and ship it; but all his thoughts were centered uponDrusilla who was friendly and elusive by turns. On that first preciousevening she came up with her father and inspected his smoke-blackenedcave, and over his new records there sprang up a conversation that heldhim entranced for hours. She had been to the Metropolitan and the BostonOpera Houses and heard the great singers at their best; she understoodtheir language, whether it was French or Italian or the now proscribedGerman of Wagner, and she listened to the records again and again,trying to steal the secret of their success. But through it all she wasgentle and friendly, and all her old quarrelsomeness was gone.

  A week passed like a day, full of dreams and half-uttered confidencesand long, contented silences; and then, as they sat in the shade of thegiant sycamore Denver let his eyes that had been fixed upon Drusilla,stray and sweep the lower road.

  "What are you looking for now?" she demanded impatiently and he turnedback with a guilty grin.

  "McGraw," he said and she frowned to herself for at last the world hadcome between them. For a week he had been idle, a heaven-sent companionin the barren loneliness of life; but now, when his powder and miningsupplies arrived, he would become the old hard-working miner. He wouldgo into his dark tunnel before the sun was up and not come out till itwas low in the west, and instead of being clean and handsome as a younggod he would come forth like a groveling gnome. His face would be grimy,his hands gnarled with striking, his digging-clothes covered withcandle-grease: and his body would reek with salty sweat and the rank,muggy odor of powder fumes. And he would crawl back to his cave like anoutworn beast of burden, to sleep while she sang to him from below.

  "Will you go back to work?" she asked at last and he nodded andstretched his great arms.

  "Back to work!" he repeated, "and I guess it's about time. I wonder howmuch credit Murray gave me?"

  Drusilla said nothing. She was looking far away and wondering at thething we call life.

  "Why do you work so hard?" she inquired, half complainingly. "Is thatall there is in the world?"

  "No, lots of other things," he answered carelessly, "but work is theonly way to get them. I'm on my way, see? I've just begun. You wait tillI open up that mine!"

  "Then what will you do?" she murmured pensively, "go ahead and open upanother mine?"

  "Well, I might," he admitted. "Don't you remember that other treasure?There's a gold-mine around here, somewhere."

  "Oh, is that all you think about?" she protested with a smile. "Thereare lots of other treasures, you know."

  "Yes, but this one was prophesied," returned Denver doggedly. "I'm boundto find it, now."

  "But Denver," she insisted, "don't you see what I mean? Thesefortune-tellers never tell you, straight out. Yours said, 'a goldentreasure,' but that doesn't mean a gold mine. There are other treasures,besides."

  "For instance?" he suggested and she looked far away as if thinking ofsome she might name.

  "Well," she said at length, "there are opals, for one. They arebeautiful, and look like golden fire. Or it might be a rare old violinthat would bring back your music again. I saw one once that was goldenyellow--wouldn't you like to play while I sing? But if you spend allyour life trying to grub out more riches you will lose your appreciationof art."

  "Yes, but wait," persisted Denver, "I'm just getting started. I haven'tgot a dollar to my name. If Murray don't send me the supplies that Iordered I'll have to go to work for my grub. The jewels can wait, andthe yellow violins, but I know that she meant a mine. It would have tobe a mine or I couldn't choose between them--and when I make my stakeI'm going to buy out the Professor and see what he's got underground. Ofcourse, it's only a stringer now but----"

  "Oh dear," sighed Drusilla and then she rose up, but she did not goaway. "Aren't you glad," she asked, "that we've had this week together?I suppose I'm going to miss you, now. That's the trouble with being awoman--we get to be so dependent. Can I play over your records,sometimes?"

  "Sure," said Denver, "say, I'm going up there now to see if McGraw isn'tin sight. Would you like to come along too? We can sit outside in theshade and watch for his dust, down the road."

  "Well, I ought to be studying," she assented reluctantly, "but I guess Ican go up--for a while."

  They clambered up together over the ancient, cliff-dwellers' trail,where each foothold was worn deep in the rock; but as they sat withinthe shadow of the beetling cliff Drusilla sighed again.

  "Do you think?" she asked, "that there will be a great rush when theyhear about your strike down in Moroni? Because then I'll have to go--Ican't practice the way I have been with the whole town filled up withminers. And everything will be changed--I'd almost rather it wouldn'thappen, and have things the way they are now. Of course I'll be glad forfather's sake, because he's awfully worried about money; but sometimes Ithink we're happier the way we are than we will be when we're all of usrich. What will be the first thing you'll do?"

  "Well," began Denver, his eyes still on the road, "the first thing is toopen her up. There's no use trying to interest outside capital untilyou've got some ore in sight. Then I'll go over to Globe to a man that Iknow and come back with a hundred thousand dollars. That's right--I knowhim well, and he knows me--and he's told me repeatedly if I findanything big enough he's willing to put that much into it. He came upfrom nothing, just an ordinary miner, but now he's got money in tendifferent banks, and a hundred thousand dollars is nothing to him. Buthis time is valuable, can't stop to look at prospects; so the firstthing I do is to open up that mine until I can show a big deposit ofcopper. The silver and lead will pay all the expenses--and you wait,when that ore gets down to the smelter I'll bet there'll be somebodycoming up here. It runs a thousand ounces to the ton or I'm a liar, theway I've sorted it out; but of course old Murray and the rest of 'emwill rob me. I don't expect more than three hundred dollars."

  "Isn't it wonderful," murmured Drusilla, "and to think it all happe
nedjust from having your fortune told! I'm going over to Globe before Istart back East and get her to tell my fortune, too; but of course itcan't be as wonderful as yours--you must have been just born lucky."

  "Well, maybe I was," said Denver with a shrug, "but it isn't all overyet--I still stand a chance to lose. And she told me some other thingsthat are not so pleasant--sometimes I wish I'd never gone near her."

  "Oh, what are they?" she asked in a hushed eager voice; but Denverignored the question. Never, not even to his dearest friend, would hetell the forecasting of his death; and as for dearest friends, if heever had another pardner he could never trust him a minute. The chanceslipping of a pick, a missed stroke with a hammer, any one of a thousandtrivial accidents, and the words of the prophecy would come to pass--hewould be killed before his time. But if he favored one man no more thananother, if he avoided his former pardners and friends, then he mightlive to be one of the biggest mining men in the country and to winDrusilla for his wife.

  "I'll tell you," he said meditatively, "you'd better keep away from her.A man does better without it. Suppose she'd tell you, for instance, thatyou'd get killed in a cave like she did Jack Chambers over in Globe;you'd be scared then, all the time you were under ground--it ruins a manfor a miner. No, it's better not to know it at all. Just go ahead, thebest you know how, and play your cards to win, and I'll bet it won't bebut a year or two until you're a regular operatic star. They'll beselling your records for three dollars apiece, and all those managerswill be bidding for you; but if Mother Trigedgo should tell you some badnews it might hurt you--it might spoil your nerve."

  "Oh, did she tell you something?" cried Drusilla apprehensively. "Dotell me what it was! I won't breathe it to a soul; and if you couldshare it with some friend, don't you think it would ease your mind?"

  Denver looked at her slowly, then he turned away and shook his head inrefusal.

  "Oh, Denver!" she exclaimed as she sensed the significance of it, andbefore he knew it she was patting his work-hardened hand. "I'm sorry,"she said, "but if ever I can help you I want you to let me know. Wouldit help to have me for a friend?"

  "A friend!" he repeated, and then he drew back and the horror came intohis eyes. She was his friend already, the dearest friend he had--was shedestined then to kill him?

  "No!" he said, "I don't want any friends. Come on, I believe that'sMcGraw."

  He rose up hastily and held out his hand to help her but she refused toaccept his aid. Her lips were trembling, there were tears in her eyesand her breast was beginning to heave; but there was no explanation hecould give. He wanted her, yes, but not as a friend--as his beloved, hisbetrothed, his wife! By any name, but not by the name of friend. He drewaway slowly as her head bowed to her knees; and at last he left her,weeping. It was best, after all, for how could he comfort her? And hecould see McGraw's dust down the road.

  "I'm going to meet McGraw!" he called back from the steps and wentbounding off down the trail.