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

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER XX

  JUMPERS AND TENORS

  They led Denver away as if he were a child, for the revulsion from hisanger had left him weak; but Chatwourth, the killer, was carried back totown with his head lolling forward like a dead man's. The smash of thestone had caught him full on the forehead, which sloped back like theskull of a panther; and the blood, oozing down from his lacerated scalp,made him look more murderous than ever. But his hard, fighting jaw washanging slack now and his dangerous eyes were closed; and the miners,while they carried him with a proper show of solicitude, chuckled andmuttered among themselves. In a way which was nothing short ofmiraculous Denver Russell had walked in on Murray's boss jumper andknocked him on the head with a rock--and the shot which Chatwourth hadfired in return had never so much as touched him.

  They put Chatwourth in an automobile and sent him over to Murray's camp;and then with broad smiles they gathered about Denver and took turns inslapping him on the back. He was a wonder, a terror, a proper fightingfool, the kind that would charge into hell itself with nothing but abucket of water; and would he mind, when he felt a little stronger, justwalking with them to their claims? Just a little, friendly jaunt, as onefriend with another; but if Murray's hired junipers saw him coming upthe trail that was all that would be required. They would go, and bequick about it, for they had been watching from afar and had seen whathappened to Dave--but Denver brushed them aside and went up to his cavewhere he could be by himself and think.

  If he had ever doubted the virtue of Mother Trigedgo's prophecy he putthe unworthy thought behind him. He knew it now, knew itabsolutely--every word of the prophecy was true. He had staked his lifeto prove the blackest line of it, and Chatwourth's bullet had beenturned aside. No, the silver treasure was his, and the golden treasurealso, and no man but his best friend could kill him; but the beautifulartist with whom he had fallen in love--would she now confer her handupon another? He had come back to Pinal to set the prophecy at defianceand ask her to be his dearest friend; but now, well, perhaps it would bejust as well to stick to the letter of his horoscope. "Beware how youreveal your affections," it said--and he had been rushing back to tellher! And besides, she had met his advances despitefully, and practicallycalled him a coward. Denver brushed off the dust from his shinyphonograph and put on the "Anvil Chorus."

  The next morning, early, he was up at his mine, with Chatwourth's gunslung low on his leg; and while he remained there, to defend it againstall comers, he held an impromptu reception. There was a rush of miners,to look at the mine and inspect the specimens of copper; and thenshoestring promoters began to arrive, with proposals to stock theproperty. The Professor came up, his eyes staring and resentful; and oldBunker, overflowing with good humor; and at last, when nobody else wasthere, Drusilla walked by on the trail. She glanced up at him hopefully;then, finding no response, she heaved a great sigh and turned up hispath to have it over and done with.

  "Well," she said, "I suppose you despise me, but I'm sorry--that's all Ican say. And now that I know all about your horoscope I don't blame youfor treating me so rudely. That is, I don't blame you so much. But don'tyou think, Denver, when you went away and left me, you might havewritten back? We'd always been such friends."

  She checked herself at the word, then smiled a sad smile and waited tohear what he would say. And Denver, in turn, checked what was on hislips and responded with a solemn nod. It had come to him suddenly torise up and clasp her hands and whisper that he'd take a chance on it,yet--that is, if they could still be friends--but the significance ofthe prophecy had been proved only yesterday, and miracles can happenboth ways. The same fate, the same destiny, which had fended off thebullet when Chatwourth had aimed at his heart, might turn the merestaccident to the opposite purpose and make Drusilla his unwilling slayer.

  "Yes," he said, apropos of nothing, "you see now how I'm fixed. Don'tdare to have any friends."

  "No, but Denver," she pouted, "you might say you were sorry--that'sdifferent from being friends. But after we'd been so--oh, do you believeall that? Do you believe you'll be killed by your dearest friend, andthat nobody else can harm you? Because that, you know, is justsuperstition; it's just like the ancient Greeks when they consulted theoracle, and the Indians, and Italians and such people. But educatedpeople----"

  "What's the matter with the Greeks?" spoke up Denver contentiously. "Doyou mean to say they were ignorant? Well, I talked with an old-timer--hewas a Professor in some university--and he said it would take us athousand years before we even caught up with them. Do you think that I'msuperstitious? Well, listen to this, now; here's one that he told me,and it comes from a famous Greek play. There was a woman back in Greecethat was like Mother Trigedgo, and she prophesied, before a man wasborn, that he'd kill his own father and marry his own mother. What doyou think of that, now? His father was a king and didn't want to killhim, so when he was born he pierced his feet and put him out on a cliffto die. But a shepherd came along and found this baby and named himEdipus, which means swelled feet; and when the kid grew up he waswalking along a narrow pass when he met his father in disguise. They gotinto a quarrel over who should turn out and Epidus killed his father.Then he went on to the city where his mother was queen and there was abig bird, the Sphinx, that used to come there regular and ask thosefolks a riddle: What is it that is four-footed, three-footed andtwo-footed? And every time when they failed to give the answer theSphinx would take one of them to eat. Well, the queen had said thatwhoever guessed that riddle could be king and have her for his wife, andEpidus guessed the answer. It's a _man_, you see, that crawls whenhe is a baby, stands on two legs when he's grown and walks with a canewhen he is old. Epidus married the queen, but when he found out whathe'd done he went mad and put his own eyes out. But don't you see hecouldn't escape it."

  "No, but listen," she smiled, "that was just a legend, and the Greeksmade it into a play. It was just like the German stories of Thor and theNorse gods that Wagner used in his operas. They're wonderful, and allthat, but folks don't take them seriously. They're just--why, they'refairy tales."

  "Well, all right," grumbled Denver, "I expect you think I am crazy, butwhat about Mother Trigedgo? Didn't she send me over here to find thismine? And wasn't it right where she told me? Doesn't it lie within theshadow of a place of death, and wasn't the gold added to it?"

  "Why, no!" exclaimed Drusilla, "did you find the gold, too? Ithought----"

  "That referred to the copper," answered Denver soberly. "It was yourfather that gave me the tip. When I first came over here I was inquiringfor gold, because I knew I had to make a choice; but he pointed out tome that these horoscopes are symbolical and that the golden treasuremight be copper. It looks a whole lot like gold, you know; and now justlook what happened! I chose the silver, see--I chose the righttreasure--and when I drifted in, this vein of chalcopyrites appeared andwas added to the silver. It followed along in the hanging wall until thewhole formation dipped and then----"

  "Oh, I don't care about that!" burst out Drusilla fretfully, "it's easyto explain anything, afterwards! But of course if you think more of goldand silver than you do of having me for a friend----"

  "But I don't," interposed Denver, gently taking her hand. "Sit down hereand let's talk this over."

  "Well," sighed Drusilla and then, winking back the tears, she sank downin the shade beside him.

  "I don't want you to think," went on Denver tenderly, without weighingvery carefully what he said, "I don't want you to think I don't likeyou, because--say, if you'll kiss me, I'll take a chance."

  "Oh--would you?" she beamed her eyes big with wonder, "would you take achance on my killing you?"

  "If it struck me dead!" declared Denver gallantly, but she did not yieldthe kiss.

  "No," she said, "I don't believe in kisses--have you kissed other girlsbefore? And besides, I just wanted to be friends again, the way we werebefore."

  "Well, I guess you don't want to be friends very bad," observed Denverwith a disgruntled smile. "When do
you expect to start for the East?"

  "Pretty soon," she answered. "Will you be sorry?"

  Denver shrugged his shoulders and began snapping pebbles at an ant.

  "Sure," he said and she drew away from him.

  "You won't!" she burst out resentfully.

  "Yes, I'll be sorry," he repeated, "but it won't make much difference--Idon't expect to last very long. I've always had a pardner, some fellerto ramble around with and borrow all my money when he was broke, and I'mgetting awful lonesome without one. Sooner or later, I reckon, I'll pickup another one and the crazy danged fool will kill me. Drop a timberhook on my head or some stunt like that--I wish I'd never seen oldMother Trigedgo! What you don't know never hurt anyone; but now, bygrab, I'm afraid of every man I throw in with. For the time being, atleast, he's the best friend I've got; and--oh, what's the use, anyway,it'll get you, sooner or later--I might as well go out like a sport."

  "You were awful brave," she murmured admiringly, "when you fought withMr. Chatwourth yesterday. Weren't you honestly afraid he would killyou?"

  "No, I wasn't!" declared Denver. "He didn't look bad to me--don't nowand never did--and as long as the cards are coming my way I don't let noalleged bad-man run it over me. Here's the gun that I took away fromhim."

  "Yes, I noticed it," she said. "But when he comes back for it are yougoing to give it up?"

  "Sure," answered Denver, "just show me a rock-pile and I'll run him outof town like a rabbit."

  "And you fought him with _rocks_!" she said half to herself, "Iwish I were as brave as that."

  "Well, it's all in your mind," expounded Denver. "Some people are afraidto crack an egg but I'm game to try anything once."

  "So am I!" she defended looking him boldly in the eye but he shook hishead and smiled.

  "Nope," he said, "you don't believe in kisses. But I was willing to takea chance on getting killed."

  "No," she said, "a kiss means more than that. It means--well, it meansthat you love someone."

  "It means what you want it to mean," he corrected. "Don't you have tokiss the tenor in these operas?"

  "Well that's different," she responded blushing. "That's why I'm afraidI'll never succeed! Of course we're taught to do stage kisses, butsomehow I can't bring myself to it. But oh, I do so love to sing! I likeit all, except just that part of it--and the singers are not all nicemen. Some of them just make a business of flattering pretty girls andoffering to get them a hearing. That's why some girls succeed and getsuch big parts--they have an understanding with someone that can use hisinfluence with the directors. They don't take the best singers andactors at all, it's all done by intrigue and money. Oh, I wish some real_nice_ man would start a new company and invite me to take a part.I've heard one was being organized--a traveling company that will singin all the big cities--and I've written to my music teacher about it.But if I don't get some position my money will all be gone in no timeand then--well, what will I do?"

  She looked at him bravely and he saw in her eyes the calmness that goeswith desperation.

  "You write to me," he said, "and I'll send you the last dollar I'vegot."

  "No, I didn't mean that," she replied, "I can earn my living atsomething. But father and mother have spent all their money in trainingme to be a great singer and I just can't bear to disappoint them. It'scost ten thousand dollars to bring me where I am, and this five hundreddollars is nothing. Why the great vocal teachers, who can use theirinfluence to get their pupils a hearing, charge ten dollars for ahalf-hour lesson; and if I don't go to them then every door isclosed--unless I'm willing to pay the price."

  "Well, I take it all back then," spoke up Denver at last, "there aredifferent kinds of bravery. But you go on back there and do your bestand maybe we can make a raise. I'll just take my gun and go up to yourfather's claims and jump out that bunch of bad-men----"

  "No! No, Denver!" she broke in very earnestly, "I don't want you to dothat again. I heard last night that Dave said he would get you--and ifhe did, why then I'd be to blame. You'd be doing it for me, and if oneof those men killed you--well, it would be just the same as me."

  "Nope!" denied Denver, "there was no figure of speech about that. Itsaid: 'at the _hands_ of your dearest friend.' These jumpers ain'tmy friends and never was--come on, let's take a chance. I'll run 'em offthe claims if your father will give you half of 'em, and then you canturn around and sell out for cash and go back to New York like a queen.You stand off the tenors and I'll stand off the jumpers; and then,perhaps--but we won't talk about that now. Come on, will you shake handson the deal?"

  She looked at him questioningly, his powerful hand reached out to helpher, the old, boyish laughter in his eyes, and then she smiled back asbravely.

  "All right," she said, "but you'll have to be careful--because now I'myour dearest friend."

  "I'm game," he cried, "and you don't have to kiss me either. But if someDago tenor----"

  "No," she promised looking up at him wistfully. "I'll--I'll save thekiss for you."