Joe's Luck; Or, Always Wide Awake

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  "No--he didn't say."

  "I dare say it'll all come right in the end. At any rate, we shan'tstarve for the next forty-eight hours."

  So in better spirits the two companions kept on their way.

  CHAPTER XXX

  ON THE YUBA RIVER

  On the following day Joe and his comrade fell in with a party of menwho, like themselves, were on their way to the Yuba River. They werepermitted to join them, and made an arrangement for a share of theprovisions. This removed all anxiety and insured their reachingtheir destination without further adventure.

  The banks of the Yuba presented a busy and picturesque appearance.On the banks was a line of men roughly clad, earnestly engaged inscooping out gravel and pouring it into a rough cradle, called arocker. This was rocked from side to side until the particles ofgold, if there were any, settled at the bottom and were picked outand gathered into bags. At the present time there are improvedmethods of separating gold from the earth, but the rocker is stillemployed by Chinese miners.

  In the background were tents and rude cabins, and there was theunfailing accessory of a large mining camp, the gambling tent, wherethe banker, like a wily spider, lay in wait to appropriate thehard-earned dust of the successful miner.

  Joe and his friend took their station a few rods from the river andgazed at the scene before them.

  "Well, Mr. Bickford," said Joe, "the time has come when we are to tryour luck."

  "Yes," said Joshua. "Looks curious, doesn't it? If I didn't know,I'd think them chaps fools, stoopin' over there and siftin' mud. It'minds me of when I was a boy and used to make dirt pies."

  "Suppose we take a day and look round a little. Then we can find outabout how things are done, and work to better advantage."

  "Just as you say, Joe, I must go to work soon, for I hain't nary red."

  "I'll stand by you, Mr. Bickford."

  "You're a fust-rate feller, Joe. You seem to know just what to do."

  "It isn't so long since I was a greenhorn and allowed myself to betaken in by Hogan."

  "You've cut your eye-teeth since then."

  "I have had some experience of the world, but I may get taken inagain."

  Joe and his friend found the miners social and very ready to givethem information.

  "How much do I make a day?" said one in answer to a question fromJoshua. "Well, it varies. Sometimes I make ten dollars, and fromthat all the way up to twenty-five. Once I found a piece worth fiftydollars. I was in luck then."

  "I should say you were," said Mr. Bickford. "The idea of findin'fifty dollars in the river. It looks kind of strange, don't it, Joe?"

  "Are any larger pieces ever found here?" asked Joe.

  "Sometimes."

  "I have seen larger nuggets on exhibition in San Francisco, worthseveral hundred dollars. Are any such to be found here?"

  "Generally they come from the dry diggings. We don't often find suchspecimens in the river washings. But these are more reliable."

  "Can a man save money here?"

  "If he'll be careful of what he gets. But much of our dust goesthere."

  He pointed, as he spoke, to a small cabin, used as a store andgambling den at one and the same time. There in the evening theminers collected, and by faro, poker, or monte managed to lose allthat they had washed out during the day.

  "That's the curse of our mining settlement," said their informant."But for the temptations which the gaming-house offers, many whom yousee working here would now be on their way home with a comfortableprovision for their families. I never go there, but then I am in theminority."

  "What did you used to do when you was to hum?" inquired Joshua, whowas by nature curious and had no scruples about gratifying hiscuriosity.

  "I used to keep school winters. In the spring and summer I assistedmy father on his farm down in Maine."

  "You don't say you're from Maine? Why, I'm from Maine myself,"remarked Joshua.

  "Indeed! Whereabouts in Maine did you live?"

  "Pumpkin Hollow."

  "I kept school in Pumpkin Hollow one winter."

  "You don't say so? What is your name?" inquired Joshua earnestly.

  "John Kellogg."

  "I thought so!" exclaimed Mr. Bickford, excited.

  "Why, I used to go to school to you, Mr. Kellogg."

  "It is nine years ago, and you must have changed so much that Icannot call you to mind."

  "Don't you remember a tall, slab-sided youngster of thirteen, thatused to stick pins into your chair for you to set on?"

  Kellogg smiled.

  "Surely you are not Joshua Bickford?" he said.

  "Yes, I am. I am that same identical chap."

  "I am glad to see you, Mr. Bickford," said his old school-teacher,grasping Joshua's hand cordially.

  "It seems kinder queer for you to call me Mr. Bickford."

  "I wasn't so ceremonious in the old times," said Kellogg.

  "No, I guess not. You'd say, 'Come here, Joshua,' and you'd jerk meout of my seat by the collar. 'Did you stick that pin in my chair?'That's the way you used to talk. And then you'd give me an all-firedlickin'."

  Overcome by the mirthful recollections, Joshua burst into anexplosive fit of laughter, in which presently he was joined by Joeand his old teacher.

  "I hope you've forgiven me for those whippings, Mr. Bickford."

  "They were jest what I needed, Mr. Kellogg. I was a lazy youngrascal, as full of mischief as a nut is of meat. You tanned my hidewell."

  "You don't seem to be any the worse for it now."

  "I guess not. I'm pretty tough. I say, Mr. Kellogg," continuedJoshua, with a grin, "you'd find it a harder job to give me a lickin'now than you did then."

  "I wouldn't undertake it now. I am afraid you could handle me."

  "It seems cur'us, don't it, Joe?" said Joshua. "When Mr. Kelloggused to haul me round the schoolroom, it didn't seem as if I couldever be a match for him."

  "We change with the passing years," said Kellogg, in a moralizingtone, which recalled his former vocation. "Now you are a man, and wemeet here on the other side of the continent, on the banks of theYuba River. I hope we are destined to be successful."

  "I hope so, too," said Joshua, "for I'm reg'larly cleaned out."

  "If I can help you any in the sway of information, I shall be glad todo so."

  Joe and Bickford took him at his word and made many inquiries,eliciting important information.

  The next day they took their places farther down the river andcommenced work.

  Their inexperience at first put them at a disadvantage, They wereawkward and unskilful, as might have been expected. Still, at theend of the first day each had made about five dollars.

  "That's something," said Joe.

  "If I could have made five dollars in one day in Pumpkin Hollow,"said Mr. Bickford, "I would have felt like a rich man. Here it costsa feller so much to live that he don't think much of it."

  "We shall improve as we go along. Wait till to-morrow night."

  The second day brought each about twelve dollars, and Joshua feltelated.

  "I'm gettin' the hang of it," said he. "As soon as I've paid up whatI owe you, I'll begin to lay by somethin'."

  "I don't want you to pay me till you are worth five hundred dollars,Mr. Bickford. The sum is small, and I don't need it."

  "Thank you, Joe. You're a good friend. I'll stick by you if youever want help."

  In the evening the camp presented a lively appearance.

  When it was chilly, logs would be brought from the woods, and abright fire would be lighted, around which the miners would sit andtalk of home and their personal adventures and experiences. Oneevening Mr. Bickford and Joe were returning from a walk, when, asthey approached the camp-fire, they heard a voice that soundedfamiliar, and caught these words:

  "I'm from Pike County, Missouri, gentlemen. They call me theRip-tail Roarer. I can whip my weight in wildcats."

  "By gosh!" exclaimed Joshua
, "if it ain't that skunk from Pike. Imean to tackle him."

  CHAPTER XXXI

  JUDGE LYNCH PRONOUNCES SENTENCE

  The gentleman from Pike was sitting on a log, surrounded by miners,to whom he was relating his marvelous exploits. The number ofIndians, grizzly bears, and enemies generally, which, according tohis account, he had overcome and made way with, was simply enormous.Hercules was nothing to him. It can hardly be said that hislisteners credited his stories. They had seen enough of life to bepretty good judges of human nature, and regarded them as romanceswhich served to while away the time.

  "It seems to me, my friend," said Kellogg, who, it will beremembered, had been a schoolmaster, "that you are a modern Hercules."

  "Who's he?" demanded the Pike man suspiciously, for he had neverheard of the gentleman referred to.

  "He was a great hero of antiquity," exclaimed Kellogg, "who did manywonderful feats."

  "That's all right, then," said the Pike man. "If you're friendly,then I'm friendly. But if any man insults me he'll find he's tackledthe wrong man. I can whip my weight in wildcats------"

  Here he was subjected to an interruption.

  Mr. Bickford could no longer suppress his indignation when at alittle distance he saw his mustang, which this treacherous braggarthad robbed him of, quietly feeding.

  "Look here, old Rip-tail, or whatever you call yourself, I've got anaccount to settle with you."

  The Pike man started as he heard Mr. Bickford's voice, which, beingof a peculiar nasal character, he instantly recognized. He felt thatthe meeting was an awkward one, and he would willingly have avoidedit. He decided to bluff Joshua off if possible, and, as the best wayof doing it, to continue his game of brag.

  "Who dares to speak to me thus?" he demanded with a heavy frown,looking in the opposite direction. "Who insults the Rip-tail Roarer?"

  "Look this way if you want to see him," said Joshua. "Put on yourspecs if your eyes ain't good."

  The man from Pike could no longer evade looking at his late comrade.He pretended not to know him.

  "Stranger," said he, with one hand on the handle of his knife, "areyou tired of life?"

  "I am neither tired of life nor afraid of you," said Joshua manfully.

  "You don't know me, or------"

  "Yes, I do. You're the man that says he can whip his weight inwildcats. I don't believe you dare to face your weight in tame cats."

  "Sdeath!" roared the bully. "Do you want to die on the spot?"

  "Not particularly, old Rip-tail. Don't talk sech nonsense. I'lltrouble you to tell me why you stole my horse on the way out here."

  "Let me get at him," said the Pike man in a terrible voice, but notoffering to get up from the log.

  "Nobody henders your gettin' at me," said Mr. Bickford composedly."But that ain't answerin' my question."

  "If I didn't respect them two gentlemen too much, I'd shoot you whereyou stand," said the Pike man.

  "I've got a shootin'-iron myself, old Rip-tail, and I'm goin' to useit if necessary."

  "What have you to say in answer to this man's charge?" asked one ofthe miners, a large man who was looked upon as the leader of thecompany. "He charges you with taking his horse."

  "He lies!" said the man from Pike.

  "Be keerful, old Rip-tail," said Mr. Bickford in a warning tone. "Idon't take sass any more than you do."

  "I didn't steal your horse."

  "No, you didn't exactly steal it, but you took it without leave andleft your own bag of bones in his place. But that wasn't so bad asstealin' all our provisions and leavin' us without a bite, out in thewilderness. That's what I call tarnation mean."

  "What have you to say to these charges?" asked the mining leadergravely.

  "Say? I say that man is mistaken. I never saw him before in mylife."

  "Well, that's cheeky," said Joshua, aghast at the man's impudence."Why, I know you as well as if we'd been to school together. You arethe Rip-tail Roarer. You are from Pike County, Missouri, you are.You can whip your weight in wildcats. That's he, gentlemen. I leaveit to you."

  In giving the description, Joshua imitated the boastful accents ofhis old comrade with such success that the assembled miners laughedand applauded.

  "That's he! You've got him!" they cried.

  "Just hear that, old Rip-tail," said Mr. Bickford. "You see thesegentlemen here believe me and they don't believe you."

  "There's a man in this here country that looks like me," said thePike man, with a lame excuse. "You've met him, likely."

  "That won't go down, old Rip-tail. There ain't but one man can whiphis weight in wildcats and tell the all-firedest yarns out. That'syou, and there ain't no gettin' round it."

  "This is a plot, gentlemen," said the man from Pike, glancinguneasily at the faces around him, in which he read disbelief of hisstatements. "My word is as good as his."

  "Maybe it is," said Mr. Bickford. "I'll call another witness. Joe,jest tell our friends here what you know about the gentleman fromPike. If I'm lyin', say so, and I'll subside and never say anotherword about it."

  "All that my friend Bickford says is perfectly true," said Joemodestly. "This man partook of our hospitality and then repaid us bygoing off early one morning when we were still asleep, carrying offall our provisions and exchanging his own worn-out horse for myfriend's mustang, which was a much better animal."

  The man from Pike had not at first seen Joe. His countenance fellwhen he saw how Mr. Bickford's case was strengthened, and for themoment he could not think of a word to say.

  "You are sure this is the man, Joe?" asked, the leader of the miners.

  "Yes, I will swear to it. He is not a man whom it is easy tomistake."

  "I believe you. Gentlemen," turning to the miners who were sittingor standing about him, "do you believe this stranger or our twofriends?"

  The reply was emphatic, and the man from Pike saw that he wascondemned.

  "Gentlemen," he said, rising, "you are mistaken, and I am the victimof a plot. It isn't pleasant to stay where I am suspected, and I'llbid you good evening."

  "Not so fast!" said the leader, putting his hand heavily on hisshoulder. "You deserve to be punished, and you shall be. Friends,what shall we do with him?"

  "Kill him! String him up!" shouted some.

  The Rip-tail Roarer's swarthy face grew pale as he heard theseominous words. He knew something of the wild, stern justice of thosedays. He knew that more than one for an offense like his hadexpiated his crime with his life.

  "It seems to me," said the leader, "that the man he injured shouldfix the penalty. Say you so?"

  "Aye, aye!" shouted the miners.

  "Will you two," turning to Joe and Bickford, "decide what shall bedone with this man? Shall we string him up?"

  The Pike man's nerve gave way.

  He flung himself on his knees before Joshua and cried:

  "Mercy! mercy! Don't let them hang me!"

  Joshua was not hard-hearted. He consulted with Joe and then said:

  "I don't want the critter's life. If there was any wild-cats round,I'd like to see him tackle his weight in 'em, as he says he can. Asthere isn't, let him be tied on the old nag he put off on me, withhis head to the horse's tail, supplied with one day's provisions, andthen turned loose!"

  This sentence was received with loud applause and laughter.

  The horse was still in camp and was at once brought out. The manfrom Pike was securely tied on as directed, and then the poor beastwas belabored with whips till he started off at the top of his speed,which his old owner, on account of his reversed position, was unableto regulate. He was followed by shouts and jeers from the miners,who enjoyed this act of retributive justice.

  "Mr. Bickford, you are avenged," said Joe,

  "So I am, Joe. I'm glad I've got my hoss back; but I can't helppityin' poor old Rip-tail, after all. I don't believe he ever killeda wildcat in his life."

  CHAPTER XXXII

  TAKING
ACCOUNT OF STOCK

  Three months passed. They were not eventful. The days were spent insteady and monotonous work; the nights were passed around thecamp-fire, telling and hearing, stories and talking of home. Most oftheir companions gambled and drank, but Mr. Bickford and Joe keptclear of these pitfalls.

  "Come, man, drink with me," more than once one of his comrades saidto Joshua.

  "No, thank you," said Joshua.

  "Why not? Ain't I good enough?" asked the other, half offended.

  "You mean I'm puttin' on airs 'cause I won't drink with you? No,sir-ree. There isn't a man I'd drink with sooner than with you."

  "Come up, then, old fellow. What'll you take?"

  "I'll take a sandwich, if you insist on it."

  "That's vittles. What'll you drink?"

  "Nothing but water. That's strong enough for me."

  "Danged if I don't believe you're a minister in disguise."

  "I guess I'd make a cur'us preacher," said Joshua, with a comicaltwist of his features. "You wouldn't want to hear me preach more'nonce."

  In this way our friend Mr. Bickford managed to evade the hospitableinvitations of his comrades and still retain their good-will--notalways an easy thing to achieve in those times.

  Joe was equally positive in declining to drink, but it was easier forhim to escape. Even the most confirmed drinkers felt it to be wrongto coax a boy to drink against his will.

  There was still another--Kellogg--who steadfastly adhered to coldwater, or tea and coffee, as a beverage. These three were dubbed bytheir companions the "Cold-Water Brigade," and accepted thedesignation good-naturedly.