The Travelers 1

by Lee Hunnicutt

  Throughout much of this conversation Anne looked puzzled. She didn’t know what a burger, fries and a malt were nor did she know what total immersion was. The only immersion she knew about was when Protestants were baptized.

  There had been many times since she had been around these strange children that she hadn’t understood what they were saying. They were speaking English but it wasn’t an English that she understood. Her only hope, she thought, of finding out what they were saying was to stick around them. Maybe then she could learn their strange language.

  The two beers had taken their toll. Sonny was already asleep. Beth looked at Anne and said, “I’m sorry Anne,” Beth yawned, “I’m goin’ to hafta go to sleep. I can’t keep my eyes open.” With that she went to sleep.

  Jack pulled his covers over his ears, looked over at Anne and under the covers waved his fingers at her and went to sleep.

  Anne pulled her covers around her, got comfortable and thought “Things are getting stranger and stranger.” and then she was asleep.

  For the next three weeks they worked as long as there was daylight. The days were getting warmer and the snow was slowly melting.

  They were pulling out about two and a half troy pounds of gold a day from their placer mine. They figured that if they worked five months and could get four months of good weather, they would have about forty-five to sixty thousand dollars in gold at eighteen dollars an ounce.

  After three weeks of steady work they were finishing dinner when Beth said, “I want a day off.”

  Sonny said, “OK.”

  “No, you don’t understand. I want one day off a week and I don’t want to work more than twelve hours a day.”

  Sonny started to say something but Jack broke in and said, “She’s right. All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.

  We need to take a break. So we have thirty grand instead of fifty at the end of fall, big deal. Thirty grand is a fortune in the 1870s.

  Besides,” he smiled at the girls, “Sonny and I have a plan on how to make it grow.”

  Jack turned to Sonny and knocked on his head like you would a door.

  “Sonny has a ‘pornographic’ memory.”

  Sonny straightened his back, looked straight ahead like a zombie and said in a monotone voice “George Herman Ruth, known as Babe Ruth, 1895 – 1948, had a twenty-two-year career, played 2503 games. He had a lifetime batting average of .342 and was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1936.

  The Eiffel Tower in Paris was built for the Paris World’s Fair of 1889 and is 984 feet tall and was constructed with 7,000 tons of iron.

  Penicillin was …”

  Jack passed his hand in front of Sonny’s eyes and said, “That is enough, Oh Great One. You don’t want to confuse lesser minds.”

  “And what does all of this have to do with making our gold grow?” Beth asked in a sarcastic voice.

  “Unbeknownst to lesser minds, Sonny has read all there is to read about the stock exchanges in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, including the San Francisco Gold Exchange.

  Isn’t that right, Oh Great One?”

  Sonny looked at Beth and gave a condescending superior smile.

  Beth gave Sonny a disgusted look and said, “Get that shit eatin’ smile off your face and” she turned to Jack, “quit calling my genetically inferior brother ‘Oh Great One’.”

  The boys held both their hands above their heads and gave a high ten.

  Sonny smirked at Beth and said, “You’re just pissed off because it’s a great idea and you didn’t think of it.”

  Beth shook her head and said, “You got me there. It is a great idea and I never would have thought of it.”

  Anne said, “What are you talking about and who is Babe Ruth.?”

  They all stopped talking and looked at Anne in shock.

  It made Anne uneasy.

  Jack said, “The Bambino, the Sultan of Swat, The House that Ruth Built but of course, you wouldn’t know. He hasn’t even been born yet.”

  “Babe Ruth was one of the greatest baseball players who ever played the game,” said Beth. “We’ll explain baseball to you later. The main thing that Jack was talking about and demonstrated with Sonny’s moron display, is that Sonny does have a great memory. If Sonny reads something, he doesn’t forget it. As much as I hate to admit it, it is amazing.

  Sonny, explain what you and Jack are planning to do with our gold.”

  Sonny began by explaining the concept of stocks and a stock exchange to Anne.

  “In the eighteen hundreds the stock exchange was a license to steal. The Gold Exchange in San Francisco is no exception but if you know how to play it, there was. I mean there is money to be made.

  The Comstock Mining stock sold for as little as $1.60 and as much as $1600.00 a share. The San Francisco Stock Exchange was a wild and wooly place. The Comstock’s rocky ride was typical of the market.

  I know which stocks will do what in the next few years. This is insider trading taken to new heights.

  We can’t miss.”

  “Our biggest drawback,” said Jack, “is that we are kids. We don’t know how the law treats the property rights of minors.

  Right now we’re just fourteen years old and look it. Maybe in a couple of years we’ll look older and can pass ourselves off as twenty-one.”

  “There is another thing that we might be able to do,” said Sonny. “In 1866 the second largest bank in Boston, The Marine Mercantile Bank of Boston, decided that it wanted to cash in on the great gold mining boom in Colorado and Nevada. and that they needed a western branch. They sent their senior manager out to Denver and opened The Marine Mercantile Bank of Boston, Denver Branch.

  Well they had two things going against them. One, nobody wanted to do business with anybody who had a name with Boston in it. The people out here are Westerners and they don’t trust Easterners. The second thing going against the bank was the bank manager was a thief. In 1868 when the people doing business with him found out that he was stealing from them, they broke into the bank and threw him out of the second story window. He might have survived the fall had it not been for the rope around his neck.

  Needless to say the bank wasn’t doing too well and they had to close their doors.”

  Sonny paused.

  Beth knew what Sonny was doing. She waited as long as she could and said with exasperation “How does all of this bullshit about a defunct bank help us?”

  Jack got a serious look on his face. He moved both hands and arms around in a circle and pointed both hands at Sonny and said, “Tell her, Oh Great One.”

  Sonny said in an authoritative voice, “I’m glad you asked that question, young woman.”

  All of this was driving Beth nuts but Anne was trying to stifle her laughter.

  Beth gave Anne a sharp look. Anne straightened her face up but she couldn’t keep it up. She gave a sharp squeak trying to stifle her laughter. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

  Beth said in a flat, resigned voice, her face deadpan, “Don’t do that Anne. All it does is encourage them.”

  Beth couldn’t keep her anger up and was soon chuckling. “OK, asshole. How is this bank going to help us out?”

  Beth’s language made Anne’s face turn as red as her hair. Even though it embarrassed her to hear her friend use foul language, she lost it and started laughing in earnest. She straightened up and fell against Beth weak with laughter. Beth went limp with defeat and looked down on Anne with a sad look.

  Sonny smiled at his sister and said, “You want the short version or the long version?”

  “Does it matter? You’re gonna tell us whatever version you want to tell us,” said Beth.

  Sonny got a hurt look on his face.

  “All right, all right, the short version,” said Beth.

  Sonny perked up and began.

  “The bank was closed for two years. The family that owned The Maritime Mercantile Bank of Boston had, in 1870, decided to se
ll or write off the Denver branch.

  Well, about that time the youngest son, the prodigal son you might say, shows up on the Boston scene and says, ‘Let me have a shot a running it.’

  The father and the two older brothers go nuts and tell the kid to buzz off.

  Well, the mother, who is the real owner of The Maritime Mercantile Bank of Boston has other ideas. The bank came down through her family. After quite a fight where the mother threatens to disown everybody, the father and the older sons see the light and have a change of heart.

  To make a long story longer, the youngest son gets his way and comes to Denver, reopens the bank and changes the name to The First Mining Bank of Denver.

  Through sheer force of personality, he’s damned likable, and by being straight arrow, he turns the bank around. The kid’s a financial genius and the bank not only shows a profit, but within six years it is making more money than the eastern bank in Boston.

  The point of all of this is, I believe we can trust this guy.”

  “So what do we do until we look old enough to deposit our gold earnings into the bank?” asked Beth.

  Sonny said, “I think we ought to lay low and keep a low profile. We work the mine during the spring to early fall and winter with the Cheyenne. If a hint of gold gets out, we’ll never be able to keep this place secret.

  At the end of two years, we should have enough to do whatever we please.”

  When Sonny had finished talking there was a momentary silence as they all thought over what he had said.

  Jack was the first to speak.

  He looked at the two girls and said, “Well, what do you think?”

  He looked at Anne and said, "Anne?”

  Anne looked up sharply, blushed and began to stammer. No one had ever asked for her opinion before, at least not an opinion that carried any importance.

  She was both embarrassed and pleased, embarrassed because she couldn’t answer and had thought she had made a fool of herself but pleased because Jack had really wanted her opinion. She looked at Beth and stuttered, “Ah, ah Beth, what do you think?”

  Beth said, "Sonny’s right, we look like kids. Hell we are kids. Maybe we will look old enough in a couple of years to pull this off.

  He’s right about laying low while we mine our gold. If any hint of what we are doing gets out, we’ll never be able to keep this place secret. There’ll be more people here than you can shake a stick at.”

  Jack started to clear the table.

  Anne jumped up and said, “I’ll do that.” and snatched the plates out of his hands.

  As she did the dishes, Sonny began to play the guitar. He played Jim Croce’s “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown”

  Beth and Jack began rocking their shoulders, popping their fingers and singing the song. Sonny played and sang along with them.

  At the end of the song he began to play another song but Anne turned around and said, "Wait until I’ve finished the dishes so I can really listen to you. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  “OK,” said Sonny and they filled their time with small talk.

  When Anne finished the dishes, she sat down at the table. Sonny picked the guitar up but Jack took it from him and played Tennessee Ernie Ford’s “Sixteen Tons” Sonny and Jack did a duet. When they finished, Anne couldn’t contain herself and clapped.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful.” she said. “Teach them all to me. I want to hear all of your songs.”

  Beth took the guitar and sang Lenny Welsh’s “Since I Fell for You”

  They passed the guitar around until it was late. Finally, Jack said, "Goodnight all. Tomorrow is another day at the mines and we have to get up early.”

  Beth yawned and said, "You’re right. I’m calling it a night too.”

  Anne was all bright eyed and said, "So soon? Just one more song.”

  Sonny laughed and said, "Tomorrow, Anne, there is always tomorrow. It’s time for bed.”

  She was disappointed but she followed Beth to their room.

  As Sonny and Jack went to sleep they could hear Anne whispering excitedly to Beth.

  Jack chuckled as he went to sleep and thought, “Boy, is she pumped.”

  As the days became longer, Jack taught Anne to ride like a Cheyenne. Sonny taught her how to shoot a pistol and Beth the rifle. They all taught her how to make and handle a bow and arrow. During the day, they spoke only Cheyenne around her and at night they taught her their music.

  They sang everything from the blues, to jazz, to rock and roll and show tunes. They sang Fats Waller, Willie Nelson, Irvin Berlin, Connie Frances, the Beatles and every artist that they had ever heard.

  Anne was like a sponge. Beth, Sonny and Jack were amazed at her. Once she heard a song she never forgot it. She could play a song and sing the words even if she had heard it only once.

  The only problem was that Anne would break down and cry at all of the sad songs. When Sonny and Jack sang the Righteous Brothers version of “Unchained Melody” and followed it with Bette Midler’s “The Rose”, she blubbered for three days.

  The only thing that Sonny, Beth and Jack could figure out about Anne’s propensity to cry at sad songs was that she was terribly naïve. She was a product of a nineteenth century romantic period education.

  They all agreed not to sing her “Tell Laura I Love Her” or “Teen Angel” for two reasons. The first reason was they didn’t want to gag. The second was they knew that Anne would be useless for days. If “Unchained Melody” upset her like it did, anything as saccharine and as corny as “Teen Angle” would have Anne walking around in a depression for weeks.

  By mid-July, the boys had to make a run to Boulder for supplies. They picked up foodstuffs like potatoes, onions, garlic, bacon, eggs and cured hams. Along with food, they picked up lamp oil and ammunition. They also were able to buy an old upright piano and the minister at the local Protestant church was able to tune it for them.

  When they returned to the mine, the girls were beside themselves with excitement. Beth said that the piano was the best surprise she had ever had. Anne agreed.

  The piano added a whole new dimension to their music. For their own amusement they now held musical reviews. They taught Anne all of the doo wop songs and dance steps that the doo wop performers used and the taught her how to rock and roll. They taught her the bop.

  She threw her nineteenth century inhibitions to the wind and took to this new music and dance like a fish to water. Her only difficulty was she didn’t understand some of the words like car and jet plane.

  They tried to explain the inventions of the twentieth century to her. To her credit she did pretty well but it was hard to imagine a machine that could fly or a device that could send color moving images to another device miles away.

  During the day they drove themselves like slaves but after a twelve-hour day, the late afternoons and evenings were filled with laughter and song.

  On their day off, they explored the valley and picnicked. On warm days they would swim in the river. Sometimes they would take the whole weekend off. On those occasions they would camp out and sleep under the stars.

  Anne loved it. This was the most fun any of them had ever experienced.

  When the end of September rolled around, the weather was getting cold so they had to close the mine earlier than they had planned. They headed to Boulder where they paid to store the wagon and have the wagon horses stabled for the winter.

  Once that was done, their hearts soared. They were headed home, home to the Cheyenne. Beth, Sonny and Jack had to contain themselves; otherwise they would have driven the horses too fast and hard, trying to get home sooner.

  Anne was excited because she was going to meet the people that her three companions had never stopped talking about. By now, she had a good command of the Cheyenne language. She could only hope that the Cheyenne would accept her.

  Beth and the boys had told her repeatedly not to worry. They knew the Cheyenne would give her a warm welcome.

  They found their tribe pr
eparing to winter on the North Platt River.

  The Cheyenne called her Little Flame because she was petite and her was red hair. They accepted and liked her not only because she was the friend of their white Cheyenne but because she rode as well as any of the Cheyenne and she was a natural at the buffalo hunt. She went out with ten arrows and killed eight buffalo on her first hunt.

  Beth’s heart was in her throat as she watched Anne follow Jack into the stampeding herd to pick out a large cow for the kill.

  Beth knew what Anne was doing. As with everything that Anne did, she had to do as much or more than anyone else to prove not only to her friends that she was worthy but she had to prove it to herself. Never again did she want to be perceived as just another weak female in a male dominated world.

  She may not have had the physical strength of a man but she had the skills and internal fortitude to compete with them.

  If nothing else, the Cheyenne loved bravado. Especially bravado that could be backed up by physical acts and Anne could certainly do that.

  The Cheyenne not only accepted her, they loved her and she loved them back. Her biological family was dead but her real family was Beth, Sonny, Jack and the Cheyenne.

  Even though the winters were harsh and she was never warm and at times she was hungry, she told Beth that she could live with the Cheyenne forever.

  The next three years flew by.

  Jack stood at the window looking down at the monstrosity in the street below. They were on the top floor of the newly built Palace Hotel in San Francisco. They had rented the two largest suites in the hotel.

  He and Sonny were in the living room of Beth and Anne’s suite. They were waiting for the girls to get dressed. They had arrived in San Francisco a week ago in their buckskins. They had hired tailors and dress makers to make them a wardrobe.

  They had worked the mine a year longer than they had planned and had amassed almost two hundred thousand dollars in dust and nuggets. At the end of August 1875, they packed up their belongings and half of the gold, closed the door to their cabin and headed for Denver. They buried the other half of their gold because they didn’t know how they would be treated when they got to Denver. They didn’t want to place all of their gold in one basket.