Redskin and Cow-Boy: A Tale of the Western Plains

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER I.

  AN ADVERTISEMENT.

  Cedar Gulch was, in 1851, a flourishing camp. There had been some goodfinds by the first prospectors, and a rush had of course followed.In many cases first discoveries proved illusive, but it was not so atCedar Gulch. The ground turned out well, and although no extraordinaryfinds were made, the average was good all over the bottom, and therewere few who were not doing fairly well.

  The scene was a busy one. Several hundreds of men were hard at work onthe flat, which in winter was the bed of a wide stream, but which insummer was a mere thread of water among the rocks, scarce enough forwashing purposes.

  Everywhere were piles of stones and rubbish that had been brought upfrom the shafts; men toiled at windlasses; others emptied the bucketsas they came up into swinging troughs or cradles; others again keptthese supplied with water, and swung or rocked them, taking off thelarge stones that the motion brought to the surface, while the slushand mud ran out at the lower end. New-comers moved about watching thework with eager eyes, wishing that they had had the luck to get thereamong the early arrivals, and to take up a claim, for every foot ofground far down the valley had already been occupied, and there wasnow no getting into a claim except by purchasing a share or altogetherbuying out the present holders.

  One of the claims that was doing best was held by three men who hadworked in partnership for the last two years, and who had been amongthe first to arrive at Cedar Gulch. They were known among the others asEnglish Bill, Sim Howlett, and Limping Frank. Sim Howlett was perhapsthe leader of the party. He had been one of the earliest gold-diggers,and was a square, powerfully built man. He was a man of few words, butthe words when spoken were forcible. He was by no means quarrelsome,but was one whom few cared to quarrel with, even in a place whereserious quarrels were of constant occurrence, and where revolverscracked so often that the sound of a fray excited but little attention.

  English Bill was a tall wiry man, hot of temper, but a generalfavourite. Generous with his money, always ready to lend a helping handto anyone who was down on his luck, he also was a capital worker, andhad, in spite of his rough clothes and the use of language as rough asthat of his companions, a certain air which told that, like many othersin the diggings, he was a gentleman by birth. Why these two men shouldhave taken up with Limping Frank as a comrade was a matter of surpriseto those who knew them. They were both men in the prime of life, whilehe was at least ten years their senior. His hair was already white;his face was that of a student rather than a miner, with a gentle andalmost womanly expression. His frame was slight, and looked altogetherincapable of hard work, and he walked with a distinct limp, the resultof a bullet wound in the hip. And yet there were men in the gulchwho, having known the trio at other diggings, declared that theywould rather quarrel either with English Bill or Sim Howlett than withLimping Frank, and as some of them were desperate fellows, and notedpistol shots, their report was quite sufficient to secure respect fora man who otherwise would have been regarded with pity or contempt.

  Very little of the hard work of the partnership fell upon Frank. Hecooked, looked after the shanty, did what washing and mending to theclothes was necessary, and occasionally came down and assisted to workthe cradle and sort the stuff. They generally addressed him as doctor.Not that he made any profession of medical knowledge; but he was alwaysready to give his services in case of sickness, and many a miner had hepulled through fevers which, had it not been for his nursing and care,would have proved fatal.

  "I can't make out what yer mean by saying I had best not quarrel withthat little old atomy you call Limping Frank," a big, powerful fellowwho had recently arrived at the camp said to one who had been talkingover with him the characteristics of several of the miners. "I ain'tvery pertiklar who I quarrels with; but what on arth there can be inthat little chap to make one keep clear of him beats me. Can he shoot?"

  "You bet," the other replied. "He could put a bullet plumb between youreyes ten times following, the length of the long saloon up there. Thereain't no better shot nor quicker anywhere on the slopes."

  "But he don't look as if he could speak up for himself," the other said.

  "No; and he doesn't speak up for himself, though his mates would beready enough to speak up for him if anyone said anything to him. Thereis nothing quarrelsome about him. He is always for peace and order.He is a sort of Judge Lynch all to himself. He has cleared out one ortwo camps I have been at. When a chap gets too bad for anything, andtakes to shooting over and above what is usual and right, 'speciallyif he draws on quiet sort of chaps and becomes a terror, then LimpingFrank comes out. I was down at Dead Man's Gulch when there was a gangof three or four men who were a terror to the place. They had stretchedout seven or eight between them, and Texan Jack, as the worst of themwas called, one day shot down a young fellow who had just come intocamp, for no reason at all, as far as any one knew.

  "I happened to be in the saloon five minutes afterwards, when LimpingFrank came in. Texan Jack was standing drinking there with two of hismates, laughing and jawing. You would scarcely have known that littlechap if you had seen him then! He had been nursing a mate of mine onlythe night before, and as I had been sitting near him I thought what agentle sort of face he had--more like a woman's than a man's. But nowhis eyes were wide open and his lips closed, and there was just a setlook in his face that I knew meant mischief--for I had seen him oncebefore when his dander was up--and I put my hand into my back pocketfor my pistol, for I knew there was going to be a muss. He stopped inthe middle of the room, and he said in a loud, clear voice that madeevery one look sharp round, 'Texan Jack, murderer and villain, we haveborne with you too long. If you are a man, draw.' Texan Jack staredwith astonishment.

  "'Are you mad, you little fool?' he said.

  "'Draw, or I will shoot you down as you stand,' Limping Frank said,and the Texan saw that he meant mischief. Frank had no weapon in hishand, for he was not one to take an advantage. The Texan carried hisweapon up his sleeve, but quick as he was with it, Frank was as quick,and the two pistols cracked pretty well at the same moment. Frank gota ball in the shoulder, but the Texan fell dead with a bullet in thecentre of his forehead. His two mates drew in a moment, but Frank'srevolver cracked twice as quick as you could count them, and there werejust three bodies lying dead in a heap. Then he put up his pistol, andsaid in his ordinary quiet voice, 'I don't like these things, but wemust have peace and order. Will some of you tell the others that theyhad better git.' And you bet they did git. Limping Frank never saidanother word about it, but got his arm in a sling, and half an hourafterwards I saw him quietly cooking his mates' dinner while they wereboth standing by blowing him up for starting out without them to backhim."

  "What did he say?" the new-comer asked.

  "I heard him say, 'It is no use your going on like that, mates. If youhad gone down he would have got his friends, and then there would havebeen a general fight, and several would have got hurt. When you havemurderers like these you don't want a fight--you want an execution; andhaving a sort of natural knack with the pistol, I took it upon myselfto be executioner.'

  "There was another case, although it didn't happen at the camp I wasat, in which a woman was murdered by a half-breed Mexican. I did nothear the circumstances, but it was a shocking bad case. She left achild behind her, and her husband, a little German, went clean off hishead.

  "Next morning Limping Frank was missing. All that was known was thathe had bought a horse of a man who had come in late the night before,and was gone. His two mates looked high and low for him, but said atlast they guessed he would turn up again. It was well-nigh two monthsbefore he came back. He brought back with him a watch and some trinketsthat had been stolen from the murdered woman, and it seems that he hadfollowed the fellow right down into New Mexico, and had shot him there.The man who told me said he never made any talk about it, but was atwork as usual the morning after he came back. I tell you I would ratherquarrel with Sim Howlett and English Bill together than I would
getthat little man's dander up. He is a peacemaker too, he is, and many aquarrel he has smoothed down. At one camp we were in we made him a sortof judge, and whenever there was a dispute about claims, or tools, oranything else, we went to him and he decided, and no judge could havegone into the case fairer or given a better judgment; and though, incourse, those he decided against were not pleased, they had to put upwith it. In the first place, the camp was with him; and in the second,there ain't much use disputing with a judge who can shoot as straightas he can, and is ready to do it if necessary."

  The three partners had finished their day's work, and sat down to ameal of tea, steak, and corn-cakes that Limping Frank had prepared forthem.

  "We shall have to be moving from here soon," the Englishman said."Another week and our claim will be worked out. We have not done badly,on the whole. The question is, had we better buy up somebody else'sclaim and go on working here, or make a start for some fresh field?"

  "I vote for a move," Sim Howlett said. "I don't say the claim hasn'tpanned out well, but there is no excitement about it. The gold liesregular right through the gravel, and it is almost as bad as workingfor wages. You can always tell within an ounce or so what there willbe when you come to clean up the cradle. I like a bit of excitement.Nothing one day and eight or ten ounces the next."

  "It comes to the same thing in the long run," the Englishman said."We don't get very much forwarder. Grub costs a lot of money, andthen what there is over and above slips through our fingers somehow.The gambling-tables take a large share of mine; and your weakness forchampagne, Sim, when you break out about once a month, makes a hole inyours; and as to Frank's, he spends half his in getting meat for soupsand wines and medicines for his patients."

  "What is one to do?" Frank said apologetically. "One cannot see peopledie for want of ordinary necessaries. Besides, Bill, you give away alot too."

  "Only my money is not so well spent as yours, doctor."

  "Well, no, I don't think it is."

  "I suppose it comes to the same thing in the end. I don't want to layby money. What should I do with it if I had it?"

  "You don't want to lay by money because you are strong, and can go onearning it for years yet; and you both know very well that if you hada hundred thousand dollars you would chuck it all away in six months."

  Sim Howlett laughed aloud.

  "Perhaps you are right, doctor," English Bill said. "But if yourargument means anything, it means that we are fools for working as hardas we do."

  "Not at all," the doctor said gently. "You don't earn more than youwant, as is shown by the fact that you lay by so little, and that wehaven't more than enough dust in our sack to keep us for a month ortwo if we don't happen to strike it in the next claim we take up. No; Ithink we earn just enough. If you earned three times as much you wouldgo three times as often to that cursed gambling-table, and it would bebad for your temper. If Sim earned three times as much he would go onthe spree three times as often, and it would be bad for his health.If I were to earn three times as much, I should have three times asmany patients to attend to, and I couldn't stand such a strain; so yousee we are just right as we are," and he nodded pleasantly to his twocomrades.

  "You are the most perplexing beggar I ever came across, doctor," theEnglishman said, "and I have seen some rum specimens during the twentyyears I have been knocking about in the States."

  The little man nodded as if it had been a compliment.

  "I know, Bill. That is what I think myself sometimes; there is a tilejust a little loose somewhere."

  "Not at all, not at all," Bill said hotly; while Sim Howlett growledthat he would like to hear any one else say so.

  "Not off, you know," Frank said, "but just a little loose. I know,dear boys. You see my machine gets muddled up. It may work right enoughsometimes, but the chances are that a cog has got bent, or that thereis a little twist in a crank, and the thing never works quite even. Itjust catches, you know--rattles now and then. You may look it all overas much as you like, but you cannot spot where it is. You say it wantsgrease, but you may pour bucketfuls over it and it makes no difference.There"--and he broke off--"they are at it again up in that saloon."

  Two or three pistol-shots rang out in the evening air.

  "Things are not going on as they ought to," he went on quietly. "Thatis another machine that wants regulating. There are more bad men inthis camp than there ought to be."

  "Don't you worry yourself," Bill said hastily. "You cannot expect amining camp to be a sort of paradise, doctor, and all the bad men keptoutside. Things have been going on pretty smooth of late. It has beenquite a peaceful camp."

  "I don't like the ways of that man Symonds the gambler," the doctorsaid meditatively, with his head a little on one side.

  "He is a bad lot," Sim Howlett agreed; "but he is going. I heard tellyesterday that he said he was going down to Frisco at the end of theweek; and if he doesn't go, Bill and I will get a dozen other fellowsto go with us and tell him that he had better git, or the air of thiscamp is likely to be unhealthy for him."

  "Well, if that is so we need not think any more about it," the doctorsaid. "I dreamt last night I saw him with a bullet mark in the centreof his forehead; but perhaps that was a mistake, or the mark will notcome at present. It will come sooner or later," he added musingly, "butperhaps not for a good time yet."

  "Well, well," Sim Howlett broke in, "we are wandering about like greenhands lost in a sage-bush. We started by talking about whether, when wehave worked up our claim, we shall stop here or foot it."

  "If we foot it, where do you propose to go, Sim?"

  "I heard this morning that they are doing well in that new place theycall Gold Run. Then, again, you know we have always had a fancy for amonth's prospecting up at the head of the Yuba. The gold must come fromsomewhere, though nobody has ever hit the spot yet."

  "I am ready to go where you like, Sim," the doctor said; "but as I haveoften told you before, you miners are altogether wrong in your notions,as any one can see with half an eye by the fact, that whether you aredown here in the bottom of a gulch, or whether you are up on thoseflats, 2000 feet above us, you always find gravel. Now those flats wereonce the bed of a great river, that was when the mountains round weretens of thousands of feet higher than they are now; they must have beenall that or there would never be water enough for such a river as thatmust have been. That river must have rolled on for thousands of years,for the gravel, which you can see in some places is 500 feet thick, isall water-worn; whether it is big boulders or little stones, it has allbeen rolled about.

  "Well, in time these mountains were all worn away. There wasn't waterthen for the big river, and the water from the hills, as you seethem now, began to cut fresh channels, and this Yuba, which is one ofthem, lies a thousand feet below the old gravel bed. In some places ithas crossed the old bed, and the gold that came down from the formermountains into the gravel has been washed down into these valleys. Youwill never find, as you all dream of doing, a quartz vein stuck full ofgold. There may have been veins like that in the old mountains, but thequartz veins that you find now, and lots of them have been assayed, areall very poor; they have got gold in them, but scarce enough to pay forworking even when they get the best machinery. I fancy gold goes offwith depth, though why it should I cannot say, and that these quartzveins which near the surface had big nuggets, and were choke-full ofsmall stuff, just pettered away to nothing as they went deeper. Thatis why I think, Sim, that you will find no quartz reefs worth workinganywhere now, and why you are less likely to find much pay dirt inthe upper gorges, because the water there has not gone through the oldgravel fields as it has in its windings lower down."

  "But according to that, doctor, we should find it richest of all if wewere to sink in the bed of the river down by the plains."

  "Not at all, not at all, Bill. From the point where the Yuba's courseleaves the old gravel bed of the big river and makes its own waythrough hills down to the plains it has picked up no more gold.
Asyou know the big nuggets are generally found pretty high up, as wasnatural they should be, for as soon as the new river washed them outof the old bed they would sink down in some convenient hole; and as inthe course of ages the Yuba cut down deeper and deeper, they would godown too. Their weight would prevent their rolling far; the light stuffwould wash down, moving onwards with the sands and gravel. And so, asyou search lower down, you get better surface washings, but find lesscoarse gold."

  "I dare say you are right, doctor," Sim Howlett said yawning, "so wewon't go prospecting up in the hills, though some nice little findshave been made up there in spite of what you say. I vote we leave itopen until we have cleared up, and then look round. A new rush may bestarted before a week is over, and if we are ready to move at once wemay manage to take up claims in the thick of it; if one isn't prettyearly at a new place, one may just as well stay away altogether. Thereis the horn. The mail is late to-night. I will go out and see if Ican get hold of a Sacramento paper--one sees all about the new placesthere. Not that one need swallow all they say, for the lies about whatis being got are tremendous. One fellow strikes it rich, and then theyput it in that every fellow in the camp is making from four to tenounces a day. I believe most of these lies come from the store-keepers.Of course, it is to their interest to get up a rush to places wherethey have set up their stores, and if a newspaper man comes along theylay it on thick. Well, here goes;" and throwing on his wide-awake, SimHowlett sauntered off.

  In a quarter of an hour he returned with a newspaper. "Here you are,Bill, you may as well do the reading. I am out of practice, and thedoctor is not to be depended upon, and will miss the very bits we wantto know."

  Taking the paper the Englishman read the columns devoted to reportsfrom the mining camps. A stranger would have thought from the perusalthat every miner on the Pacific slope must have been making a fortune,so brilliant were the accounts of the gold that was being obtained inevery mining camp. "_John Wilkins and party obtained at their week'sclear-up 304 ounces of gold, including many fine nuggets. Many othershave met with almost equal good fortune; the sand on the shoulder ispanning out very rich._"

  Such was a sample of the descriptions. The three men were unmoved bythem. They knew too well how untrustworthy were the reports. Manywere, as has been said, the work of the store-keepers; others werethe invention of miners desirous of disposing of their claims tonew-comers, and shifting to more promising regions. Little was said ofthe fabulous prices of provisions, of the fever that decimated some ofthe camps, of the total abandonment of others; and yet even the miners,although knowing by frequent experience that no dependence could beplaced on these reports, were prone to cling to the hope that thistime they were correct, and the roads were thronged by parties who,having failed at one camp, were making their way to a distant locationof which they had heard brilliant reports, and who were met, perhaps,on their way by parties coming from that very camp to the one they hadjust quitted.

  "It sounds well," the doctor said with a quiet smile when the readingwas concluded.

  "Sounds be blowed!" Sim growled. "They are thundering lies. What dothey say of this camp?--read it again, Bill."

  "_It is difficult to get at the exact state of things at Cedar Gulch.Men who are doing well are always reticent as to their earnings; butthere is little doubt that all are doing well, and that while thoseworking in companies are obtaining very large results, the averagethrough the camp is not less than from two to three ounces a day._"

  "The camp is not doing badly," Sim remarked. "There are mighty fewhere who ain't earning their grub. I don't believe there is one who ismaking from three to four ounces a day, not regular. Of course if hecomes on a pocket, or strikes the bed rock, he may earn a good bit overthat, ten times as much perhaps in a day; but take it all round, anounce, or at most an ounce and a quarter, would be the outside."

  English Bill nodded. "I should say an ounce at the outside. There arescores who ain't earning half an ounce regular, and there are a fewwho have to run into debt for their grub. Well, there is nothing verytempting in that lot of notices. We have tried a good many of them inthe last two years, and at any rate we have got another week before weneed make up our minds. I expect it will come again, Bill, to what ithas come to half a dozen times before. Write all the names on a pieceof paper, put them into a bag, let the doctor draw one, and go forit. It is as good a plan as another, and the doctor's luck has alwayspulled us through."

  Sim and the Englishman stretched themselves upon their blankets and laythere smoking, while Limping Frank squatted down by the side of thesolitary candle and began to look at the small portion of the paperdevoted to general news. This was soon finished, and then he ran hiseye over the advertisements. These principally related to articlesin demand by miners--patent rockers and cradles, picks and shovels,revolvers and bowie-knives, iron houses for stores, tents, clothing,waterproof boots, and flannel shirts. Then there was a column of townlots in Sacramento, notices of steamers starting for San Francisco,notices of stolen horses, offers of rewards for the capture ofnotorious criminals, and advertisements for missing friends.

  "Bill," he said presently.

  "Hello!" said the Englishman with a start. He had just laid his pipedown and was already dozing.

  "Didn't you once say your name was Tunstall?"

  "Yes, that's it, though I have pretty well forgotten it. What is it?"

  "Well, there is an advertisement here that may relate to you."

  "What is it, say? I haven't been running off with a horse, or shootinga sheriff, so I don't know why they are advertising for me."

  "_Five hundred dollars reward. The above sum will be paid by JamesCampbell, attorney, San Francisco, to any one who will give himinformation as to the whereabouts of William Tunstall, who was lastheard of four years ago in California. The said William Tunstall isentitled to property in England under the will of his brother, the lateEdgar Tunstall of Byrneside, Cumberland._"

  "That's me," the Englishman said, sitting upright and staring at thedoctor. "Well, well, so Edgar has gone, poor lad! Well, I am sorry."

  Sim Howlett had also roused himself at the news. "Well, Bill, I wasgoing to congratulate you," he said; "but that doesn't seem the lightyou take the news in."

  "No, I am not thinking of money," the other said. "I could have hadthat long ago if I had chosen to take it. I was thinking of my brother.It is twenty years since I saw him, and I don't suppose I should haveever seen him again any way; but it is a shock to know that he hasgone. It never was his fault, and I am sorry now I held off so. I neverthought of this. It has come to me sometimes that when I got old andpast work I might go back to the old place and end my days there; but Inever thought that he would go before me. I am sorry, mates, more sorrythan I can say."

  "How was it, Bill?" the doctor asked. "Don't tell us if you don't like;it is no business of ours. Here in the diggings there are few men whotalk of old times. Their eyes are all on the future, and what theywill do with their wealth when they gain it; but no one asks anotheras to his past history. The answer might sometimes be a pistol-shot.Here we three have been living together for more than two years andnot one of us has wanted to know what the others were before we met. Itis quite an accident that I know your name. You gave it when you gaveevidence as to the murder of that old German that we hung Red Hugh for.It struck me it was an odd name then, but I never thought of it againuntil I saw it in the paper. And you said once--it was Christmas Day, Iremember--you said there was a home for you in England if you liked togo to it."

  "I will tell you the story," the Englishman said. "I would have told itto you long ago, only there was nothing in it to tell you. It was justwhat has happened ten thousand times, and will happen as often again.My father was one of the largest land-owners in Cumberland. I was hiseldest son. We never got on well together. He was cold and haughty, ahard landlord, and a despot at home. We should have quarrelled earlierthan we did; but I was sent to Rugby, and often did not even come homefor the holidays, for I ha
d a good many friends in those days. I wentback when I was eighteen, and was to have gone to college a month ortwo later. I made a fool of myself, as boys do, and fancied I was inlove with one of our tenants' daughters.

  "Some meddling busybody--I always thought it was the parson's wife, forshe drove along one evening just as I was saying good-bye to the girlat the stile--told my father about it, and there was a frightful row.For once he got in a passion, and I lost my temper too. It was reallya harmless flirtation, I think, and would have died out when I wentoff to college. However, when my father swore that if I ever spoke toher again he would turn me out of the house, I said he might do as heliked, and that I would marry her when I came of age. He ordered me toleave the house and never see his face again; said that I was no longerhis son, and might go to the devil, or words to that effect. So, beingjust as obstinate in my way as he was in his, I went, and never did seehim again. Of course, I went first to see the girl. She was frightenedout of her life when she heard of what had happened, said that herfather would be turned out of his house, and all sorts of things, andat any rate she would have nothing more to say to me.

  "So I walked to Liverpool, and took my berth in the first sailing shipto the States. My brother Edgar, who was two years younger than I,was away at the time. We had always been capital friends. Ten yearslater, when my father died, he advertised for me, and, the name beingan uncommon one, someone pointed it out to me, and I answered. He wrotemost affectionately, and lamented that our father had died withoutforgiving me, and had not only cut me entirely out of his will, buthad, knowing his affection for me, inserted a clause that should heendeavour to alter the purport of the will, or to hand over by deed orotherwise any part or share of the estates to me, the property shouldrevert at once to a distant relative. Edgar said, however, that he hadconsulted his lawyers, and they were of opinion that this clause in noway affected his power to dispose of his income drawn from the estate,and that he proposed to share this equally with me.

  "I wrote back that while I was obliged to him for his offer I shouldnot accept it, for, as the property was not entailed, our father hada perfect right to leave it as he liked. He had left it to him, andthere was an end of it. We exchanged several letters, but I was justas obstinate as my father had been. I was too busy or too lazy forletter-writing. Somehow no one writes here, and then one is constantlyon the move. Anyhow, I had one or two letters from him which I neveranswered. The last was three or four years ago. And now he is dead, andI suppose has left me some of the property I would not take during hislifetime. Of course I was a fool, and an obstinate fool, all along, butone never acknowledges this until it is too late."

  The others made no remark for some time.

  "Well, anyhow, Bill, you ought to go down to Frisco and see thislawyer."

  "I will think it over," the other said as, after relighting his pipe,he lay back on the blankets again; "there is no hurry for a day ortwo."

  No further mention was made of the matter until the claim was clearedup, but that evening Bill returned to the subject. "I have thought itover, and I suppose I had better go down to Frisco. I don't think Ishall take this money. I should be like a fish out of water in England,and should be miserable there. If I take anything it will be a thousandpounds or so. I should sink that in buying a snug little place on thefoothills, and I should put somebody on to work it and plant it up withfruit-trees or vines, or that sort of thing, and then some day when Iget too old for knocking about I shall settle down there; and I needn'tsay that my home will also be yours, mates. I sha'n't be much more thana week away. I shall come back here, and if you hear of anything beforeI return leave a line with the store-keeper telling me where you areoff to. I have my kit packed, and if I start in half an hour I shallcatch the night coach as it comes along past the top of the gulch."

  Sim Howlett made no comment, but simply observed, "I expect you willfind us here." But just as Bill was starting the doctor put his handon his arm and said, "Don't do anything hasty, mate. You see you maderather a mess of your life by putting your foot down before when itseems there was no occasion for it. There is never any good comes ofmaking up your mind in a hurry when there is no need for it. When yousee a man slipping his hand round towards his back trouser-pocket, Iallow that is not the time for thinking. You have got to act, and toact mighty sharp too, or you will get a bullet in you before you havedrawn; but in a thing of this sort it makes no difference whether youdecide now or six months hence. You need only write and say that youare found, and ask for particulars and so on, and when you have gotthem you can take your time about giving an answer. Many men beforenow have refused a good thing and been sorry for it afterwards. Yourbrother, according to your own account, has acted kindly and welltowards you. Why should you refuse what he wished you to have, merelybecause you think that it ought to have come to you in the first place?That is all I have to say, Bill;" and he walked slowly back to thetent, while Bill started at a steady pace up the long steep hill fromthe gulch to the plateau above, along which ran one of the principalroads from Sacramento through the mining district.

  "We shall miss him, Sim," Limping Frank said as he and his mate lightedtheir pipes after their meal that evening. "It seems kinder lonelywithout him after sitting down regularly for two years now."

  "He ain't gone yet," Sim growled, "and I don't think as he is going.What Bill said he will stick to, you bet."

  "Oh, yes! he means what he says, Sim. Bill has gone away from here withthe fixed idea of going down there, writing a letter or two, comingback here, waiting for his money to come over, investing it in a farm,and going on working with us just as before; but, bless you, it is onething to make up your mind and another to carry it out."

  "What is to prevent his carrying it out, doctor?"

  "Lots of things, Sim. When a man once gets mixed up in a will, or inany kind of law business, he ceases to be a free agent."

  "Ceases to be what, doctor?"

  "Well, he ceases to be his own master. Bill thinks he has only gotto go into a lawyer's office, and say,--'Here I am. I am the chapmentioned in that advertisement. I dare say my brother has left me agood lot, but I don't want it. Just write and tell them to send me onfive thousand dollars, that's all I want out of it. I am going back toSacramento to-morrow. When the money comes pay it into the bank therefor me.' Then he thinks that he will have a day's spree at Frisco, andcome back by steamer next day."

  "And why shouldn't he? What is to hinder him?"

  "Well, it won't be like that, Sim, at all. When he goes in and says'I am William Tunstall,' the lawyer will say, 'I am heartily glad tosee you, sir. Allow me to congratulate you;' and he will shake Billby the hand, and Bill will say to himself, 'This is just as it shouldbe. Five minutes will do this job. I will go out and look up two orthree friends who are in from the mines, and we will have a bottle ofchampagne a-piece over this business.' Just as he has thought that overthe lawyer will say to him, 'Of course you are in a position to provethat you are the Mr. Tunstall advertised for.' Bill will say, 'Oh, yes!here are my brother's letters.' Then the lawyer will smile and nod andsay, 'Most satisfactory,' and then he will add, 'Of course, you arein a position to prove that you are the person to whom these letterswere sent? Of course, I don't doubt it for a moment, but letters do getlost, you know, and fall into other people's hands. In a matter of thiskind we must proceed in a legal and business way.' Then Bill will say,'Of course, I can prove that. There is Sim Howlett and Frank Bennett,my mates. They know I am Bill Tunstall.' 'They knew you before you cameout here, I suppose?' 'Oh, no! but they have known me for two years.''Known you as William Tunstall?' 'Yes, of course,' Bill will say,beginning to get riled. Then the lawyer will point out to him that wecan only say that he called himself Will Tunstall, and that as the lastof these letters he has got is dated earlier than that it comes to thefact that there is only his word to go upon, and that the law requiresvery much stronger proofs of identity than this. Then Bill will getmad, and will say the money can go to the deuce, an
d that he sha'n'ttrouble any more about it."

  "What then, doctor?" Sim Howlett asked as his companion stopped.

  "Ah! well, that I cannot say. He may come straight off without doinganything more, or the lawyer may get him to talk it over. As to that Icannot say; but you may be quite sure that if Bill is to touch a pennyof the money left to him he will have to go back to England to provewho he is, and it is like enough he may not succeed when he gets there.By what he says he was only at home just occasionally during his schoolholidays. He was little more than a boy when he left, and after twentyyears' knocking about on the plains and here it is like enough he maynot be able to find a soul to recognize him."