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

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE MAN-KILLER

  "Did he hit ye?" yelled Bunker when Denver had conquered his pitchinghorse and set him back on his haunches. "Hell's bells, boy, I told youto stay out of there!"

  "Well, you lend me a gun!" shouted Denver in a fury, "and I'll go backand shoot it out with that dastard! It's him or me--that's all!"

  "Here's a gun, pardner," volunteered a long-bearded prospector handingup a six-shooter with tremulous eagerness; but Bunker Hill struck thelong pistol away and took Denver's horse by the bit.

  "Not by a jugful, old-timer," he said to the prospector. "Do you want toget the kid killed? Come on back to the meeting and we'll frame upsomething on these jumpers that'll make 'em hunt their holes. But thisboy here is my friend, understand?"

  He held the prancing horse, which had been spattered with glancing lead,until Denver swung down out of the saddle; and then, while the crowdfollowed along at their heels, he led the way back to the store.

  "What's going on here?" demanded Denver, looking about at the automobileand the men who had popped up like magic, "has Murray made a strike?"

  "Danged right," answered Bunker, "he made a strike last month--and nowhe has jumped all our claims. Or at least, it's his men, because Davethere's the leader; but Murray claims they're working for themselves.He's over at his camp with a big gang of miners, driving a tunnel in totap the deposit--it run forty per cent pure copper."

  "Well, we're made then," exulted Denver, "if we can get back our claims.Come on, let's run these jumpers off!"

  "Yes, that's what _I_ said, a few hours ago," grumbled Bunkerbiting savagely at his mustache, "and I never was so hacked in my life.We went up to this Dave and all pulled our guns and ordered him out ofthe district, and I'm a dadburned Mexican if he didn't pull _his_gun and run the whole bunch of us away. He's nervy, there's no usetalking; and I promised Mrs. Hill that I'd keep out of these shootingaffrays. By grab, it was downright disgraceful!"

  "That's all right," returned Denver, "he don't look bad to me. You justlend me a gun and----"

  "He'll kill ye!" warned Bunker, "I know by his eye. He's a killer ifever there was one. So don't go up against him unless you mean business,because you can't run no blazer on _him_!"

  "Well--oh hell, then," burst out Denver, "what's the use of gettingkilled! Isn't there anything else we can do? I don't need to eject himbecause he's got no title, anyway. How about these lead-pencil fellowsthat haven't done their work for years?"

  "That's it," explained Bunker, "we were having a meeting when we seenyou horn in on Dave. These gentlemen are all men that have held theirground for years and it don't seem right they should lose it. At thesame time it'll take something more than a slap on the wrist to makethese blasted jumpers let go. They've staked all the good claims and areup doing the work on them and the question is--what can we do?"

  "I'll tell you what I'll do," spoke up the old prospector vindictivelyas the crowd surged into the store, "I'll get up on the Leap and shootdown on them jumpers until I chase the last one of 'em off. They can'trun no rannikaboo on me!"

  He wagged his long beard and spat impressively but nobody paid anyattention to him. They realized at last that they were up againstgun-fighters--men picked for quick shooting and iron nerves and workingunder the orders of one man. That man was Dave Chatwourth, nominallydismissed by Murray but undoubtedly still in his pay, and until theycould devise some plan to eliminate him it was useless to talk ofviolence. So they resumed their meeting and, as Denver owned a claim, hefound himself included in the membership. It was a belated revival ofthe old-time Miners' Meeting, at one time the supreme law in Westernmining camps; and Bunker Hill, as Recorder of the district, presidedfrom his perch on the counter.

  From his seat in the corner Denver listened apathetically as the minersargued and wrangled, and the longer they talked the more it becameapparent that nothing was going to be done. The encounter with Dave hadcooled their courage, and more and more the sentiment began to leantowards an appeal to the power of the law. But then it came out that thelaw was an instrument which might operate as a two-edged sword; forpossession, and diligence in working the claim, are the two big pointsin mining law and just at that moment a legal decision would be all infavor of the jumpers. And if Murray was behind them, as all thecircumstances seemed to indicate, he would hire the most expensivelawyers in the country and fight the case to a finish. No, if anythingwas to be done they must find out some other way, or they would beplaying right into his hands.

  "I'll tell you," proposed Bunker as the talk swung back to action,"let's go back unarmed and talk to Dave again and find out what hethinks he's doing. He can't hold Denver's claim, and those claims ofmine, because the work has just been done; and then, if we can talk himinto vacating our ground, maybe these other jaspers will quit."

  "I'll go you!" said Denver rising up impatiently, "and if he won'tvacate my claim I'll try some other means and see if we can't persuadehim."

  "That's the talk!" quavered the old prospector, slapping him heartily onthe back. "Lord love you, boy, if I was your age I'd be right up infront there, shooting. Why, up in the Bradshaws in Seventy-three----"

  "Never mind what you'd do if you had the nerve," broke in Bunker Hillsarcastically. "Just because you've got a claim that you'd like to getback is no reason for stirring up trouble. No, I'm willing to go aheadand do all the talking; but I want you to understand--this is_peaceable_."

  "Well, all right," agreed the miners and, laying aside their pistols,they started up the street for Denver's mine; but as Bunker led off avoice called from the porch and his wife came hurrying after him. Behindher followed Drusilla, reluctantly at first; but as her father kept on,despite the entreaties of her mother, she ran up and caught him by thesleeve.

  "No, don't go, father!" she cried appealingly and as Bunker replied withan evasive laugh she turned her anger upon Denver.

  "Why don't you get back your own mine?" she demanded, "instead ofdragging my father into it?"

  "Never mind, now," protested Bunker, "we ain't going to have notrouble--we just want to have a friendly talk. This has nothing to dowith Denver or his mine--all we want is a few words with Dave."

  "He'll shoot you!" she insisted. "Oh, I just know something will happen.Well, all right, then; I'm going along too!"

  "Why, sure," smiled Bunker, "always glad to have company--but you'dbetter stay back with your mother."

  "No, I'm going to stay right here," she answered stubbornly, givingDenver a hateful glance, "because I don't believe a word you say."

  "Ve-ry well, my dear," responded Bunker indulgently and took her underhis arm.

  "I'm going ahead!" she burst out quickly as they came to the turn in thetrail; and before he could stop her she slipped out of his embrace andwent running to the entrance of the cut. But there she halted suddenlyand when they came up they found her pale and trembling. "Oh, go back!"she gasped. "He's in there--he'll shoot you. I know something awful willhappen!"

  "You'd better go back, now," suggested her father quietly, and then heturned to the barrier. "Don't start anything, Dave--we've comepeaceable, this time; so come out and let's have a talk."

  There was a long, tense silence and then the muzzle of a gun stirreduneasily and revealed the hiding place of Dave. He was crouched behindthe rocks which he had piled up across the cut where it entered theslope of the hill, and his long barrelled six-shooter was thrust outthrough a crack just wide enough to serve for a loop-hole.

  "Don't want to talk," he answered at last. "So go on, now; get off of myproperty."

  "Well, now listen," began Bunker shaking off Drusilla's grasp, "weacknowledge we made a slight mistake. We tried to run a whizzer and youcalled us good and plenty--all right then, now let's have a talk. If youcan show title to this ground you're holding, we'll leave you inpeaceful possession; and if you can't, you're just wasting your time andtalents, because there's plenty more claims that ain't took. It's acinch you can't hide in that hole forever, so
you might as well have itout now."

  "Well what d'ye want?" snarled Chatwourth irritably. "By cripes, I'llkill the first man that comes a step nearer. I won't stand nomonkey-business from nobody."

  "Oh, sure, sure," soothed Bunker, "we know you're the goods--nerviestgun-man, I believe, I ever saw. But here's the proposition, you ain'there for your health, you must figure on making a winning somehow. Well,if your title's good you've got a good mine, but if it ain't you're outof luck. Now I sold this claim for five hundred dollars to Mr. Russell,that you met a while ago; and we think it belongs to him yet. I gave hima clear title and he's done his work, so----"

  "Your title was no good!" contradicted Chatwourth from his rock pile,"you hadn't done your work for years. I've located this claim and theman don't live----"

  "That's all right!" spoke up Denver, "but I located it before you did. Ididn't _buy_ this claim. I paid for a quit-claim and then relocatedit myself--and my papers are on record in Moroni."

  "Who called you in on this?" burst out Chatwourth abusively, rising upwith his gun poised to shoot. "Now you git, dam' your heart, and if yousay another word----"

  "You don't dare to shoot me!" answered Denver in a passion, standingfirm as the crowd surged back. "I'm unarmed, and you don't dare to shootme!"

  "Here, here!" exclaimed Bunker grabbing hastily at Denver's arm butDenver struck him roughly aside.

  "Never mind, now," he said, "just get those folks away--I don't want anyof my friends to get hurt. But I'll tell you right now, either I throwthat man out or he'll have to shoot me down in cold blood."

  He backed away panting and the miners ran for cover, but Bunker Hillheld his ground.

  "No, now listen, Denver," he admonished gently, "you don't know whatyou're doing. This man will kill you, as sure as hell."

  "He will not!" cried Denver grabbing up a heavy stone and advancing onthe barricade, "I'm destined to be killed by my dearest friend--that'swhat old Mother Trigedgo told me! But this bastard ain't my friend andnever was----"

  He paused, for Chatwourth's gun came down and pointed straight at hisheart.

  "Stand back!" he shrilled and Denver leapt forward, hurling the rockwith all his strength. Then he plunged through the smoke, swinging hisarms out to clutch, and as he crashed through the barrier he stumbledover something that he turned back and pounced on like a cat. It wasChatwourth, but his body was limp and senseless--the stone had struckhim in the head.