The Lost Cabin Mine

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by Frederick Niven


  *CHAPTER III*

  _*Mr. Laughlin's Prophecy is Fulfilled*_

  A sense of exhilaration filled me, as I strolled down town that evening,which I can only ascribe to the rare atmosphere of that part of theworld. It was certainly not due to any improvement in my financialcondition, nor to any hope of "making my pile" speedily, and to "make apile" is the predominating thought in men's minds there, with anintensity that is known in few other lands. I was pondering the story ofthe Lost Cabin Mine as I went, and in my own mind had come to thedecision that Apache Kid and his comrade knew the whereabouts of thatbonanza. Canlan, I argued, if he knew its locality at all, must havecome by his news before he fell in with his rivals on the waggon road,for after that, according to the hotel-keeper's narrative, he had had nospeech with the dying man.

  I was in the midst of these reflections when I turned into Baker Street,the main street of Baker City. There was a wonderful bustle there; menwere coming and going on either sidewalk thick as bees in hiving time;the golden air of evening was laden with the perfume of cigars; indeed,the blue of the smoke never seemed to fly clear of Baker Street on theevenings; and the sound of the many phonographs that thrust theirtrumpets out from all the stores on that thoroughfare, added to the dinof voices and laughter, rose above the sounds of talk, to be precise,with a barbaric medley of hoarse songs and throaty recitations. So muchfor the sidewalks. In the middle of the street, to cross which one hadto wade knee-deep in sand, pack-horses were constantly coming and goingand groaning teams arriving from the mountains. To add to the barbarousnature of the scene, now and again an Indian would go by, not withfeathered head-dress as in former days, but with a gaudy kerchief boundabout his head, tinsel glittering here and there about his half-savage,half-civilised garb, and a pennon of dust following the quick patter ofhis pony's hoofs. I walked the length of Baker Street and then turned,walking back again with a numb pain suddenly in my heart, for as Iturned right about I saw the great, quiet hills far off, and beyond themthe ineffable blue of the sky. And there is something in me that makesme always fall silent when amidst the din of men I see the enduring,uncomplaining, undesiring hills. So I went back to the hotel again, andwithout passing through the bar but going around the house, found therear verandah untenanted, with its half dozen vacant chairs, and there Isat down to watch the twilight change the hills. But I had not beenseated long when a small set man, smelling very strongly of whisky, cameout with his hands thrust deep in his pockets, and, leaning against oneof the verandah props, looked up at the hills, spitting at regularintervals far out into the sand and slowly ruminating a chew of tobacco.

  "Canlan, for a certainty," I said to myself, when he, looking toward thedoor from which he had emerged, attracted by a sudden louder outbreak ofvoices and rattling of chairs within, revealed to me a face very sorelypock-marked, as was easily seen with the lamplight streaming out on himfrom the bar. On seeing me he made some remark on the evening, cameover and sat down beside me, and asked me why I sat at the back of thehotel instead of at the front.

  "Because one can see the hills from here," said I.

  He grunted and remarked that a man would do better to sit at the frontand see what was going on in the town. Then he rose and, walking to andfro, flung remarks to me, in passing, regarding the doings in the cityand the mines and so forth, the local gossip of the place. He had justreverted to his first theme of the absurdity of sitting at the rear ofthe house when out came Apache Kid and Donoghue and threw themselvesinto the chairs near me, Donoghue taking the one beside me which Canlanhad just vacated. If Canlan thought a man a fool for choosing the rearinstead of the front, he was evidently, nevertheless, content to be afool himself, for after one or two peregrinations and expectorations hedrew a chair to the front of the verandah and seated himself, halfturned towards us, and began amusing himself with tilting the chair toand fro like a rocker. The valley was all in shadow now, and as we satthere in the silence the moon swam up in the middle of one of the cleftsof the mountains, silhouetting for a brief space, ere it left them forthe open sky, the ragged edge of the tree-tops in the highest forest.

  Apache Kid muttered something, Donoghue growled, "What say?" And itsurprised me somewhat to hear the reply: "O! I was only saying 'withhow sad steps, O moon, thou climb'st the skies.' It's lonesome-like, upthere, Larry."

  "Aye! Lonesome!" replied Larry with a sigh.

  A fifth man joined us then, and, hearing this, remarked: "A man thinkspowerful up there."

  "That's no lie," Donoghue growled, and so the conversation, ifconversation you can call it, went on, interspersed with long spaces ofsilence, broken only by the gurgling of the newcomer's pipe and Canlan's"spit, spit" which came quicker now. Men are prone in such times asthese to sit and exchange truisms instead of carrying on any manner ofconversation. Yet to me, not long in the country, there was a touch ofmystery in even the truisms.

  "I never seen a man who had spent much time in the mountains that wasjust what you could call all there in the upper story," said the manwith the juicy pipe.

  "Nor I," said Donoghue.

  "They 're all half crazy, them old prospectors," continued the first,"and tell you the queerest yarns about things they 've seen in themountains and expect you to believe them. You can see from the way theytalk that they believe 'em themselves. But I don't see why a man shouldlose his reason in the hills. If a man lets his brain go when he 's upthere, then he don't have any real enjoyment out of the fortune hemakes--if he happens to strike it."

  The moon was drifted far upward now and all the frontage of the hill wastipped with light green, among the darker green, where the trees thatsoared above their neighbours caught the light. "And there must be lotsof fortunes lying there thick if one knew where to find them," continuedthe talker of truisms.

  "Where?" said Apache in a soft voice.

  "In the mountains, in the mountains," was the reply.

  "Why do you ask where?" said Donoghue sharply. "Do you think if thisgentleman knew where to find 'em he would be sitting here this blessednight?"

  I felt my heart take a quicker beat at that. Knowing what I knew ofthree of these men here I began to see what Mr. Laughlin meant by the"game" they were playing.

  "O, he might," said Canlan, now speaking for the first time sinceApache's arrival.

  "That would be a crazy thing to do," said Donoghue. "That would--acrazy thing--to set here instead of going and locating it."

  "O, I don't know about _crazy_," said Mike. "You see, he might bewaiting to see if anybody else knew where it was."

  The soft-footed Chinese attendant appeared carrying a lamp which he hungup above our heads, and in the light of it I saw the face of the manwhose name I did not know, and he seemed mystified by the turn theconversation had taken. I was looking at him now, thinking to myselfthat I too would have been mystified had I not been posted in the matterthat afternoon, and suddenly I heard Donoghue say: "By God! he knowsright enough, Apache," and a gleam of light flashed in my eyes. It wasthe barrel of a revolver, but not aimed at me. It was in Donoghue'shand, and pointed fairly at Canlan's head. With a sudden intake of mybreath in horror I flung out my hand and knocked the barrel up. Therewas a little shaft of flame, a sharp crack and puff of bitter smoke, andnext moment a clatter of feet within and a knot of men thronging andcraning at the door, while the window behind was darkened with othersshouldering there and pressing their faces against the glass.

  "O you----" began Apache, and "What's this?" cried Laughlin, coming out,no coward, as one might imagine, but calm enough and yet angry as Icould see.

  "What in thunder are you all rubber-necking at the door there for?"cried Apache Kid, springing up.

  "Was it you fired that gun?" challenged the landlord.

  "No, not I," cried Apache so that all could hear. "Not but what I wasthe cause of it, by betting my partner here he could n't snap a bat onthe wing in the dusk. I never thought he'd try it, but he's as
crazy----"

  "I crazy!" cried out Donoghue; and to look at him you would have thoughthim really infuriated by the suggestion; but they knew how to play intoeach other's hands.

  All this time I sat motionless. The stranger rose and passed by,remarking: "This ain't my trouble, I guess," and away indoors he wentamong the throng, and I heard him cry out in reply to the questions: "Idon't know anything about it--saw nothing--I was asleep--I don't evenknow who fired."

  "Haw! Did n't even wake in time to see whose pistol was smoking, eh?"

  "No," cried he, "not even in time for that."

  "Quite right, you," cried another. But the trouble was not yet quiteover on the verandah, for Laughlin, with his little eyes looking veryfierce and determined, remarked: "Well, gentlemen, I can't be having anyshooting of any kind in my hotel. Besides, you know there 's a lawag'in' carrying weapons here."

  "No there ain't!" cried Donoghue. "It's concealed weapons the law isagainst, and I carry my gun plain for every man to see."

  Canlan had sat all this while on his seat as calm as you please, butsuddenly the crowd at the door opened out and somebody said: "Say, here's the sheriff, boys," and at these words two men sprang from theverandah; the one was Donoghue, and Canlan the other. I saw them amoment running helter-skelter in the sand, but when the sheriff made hisappearance they were gone.

  The sheriff had to get as much of the story as he could from theproprietor, who was very civil and polite, but lied ferociously, sayinghe did not know who the men were who had been on the verandah.

  "I know you, anyhow," said the sheriff, turning on Apache Kid. "Allowme, sir," and walking up to Apache Kid he drew his hand over his pocketsand felt him upon the hips.

  Then I knew why Canlan, though entirely innocent in this matter, hadfled at the cry of "sheriff." He, I guessed, would not have come off sowell as Apache Kid in a search for weapons.

  At this stage of the proceedings the Chinese attendant passed me, quietas is the wont of his race, and brushed up against Apache Kid just asthe sheriff turned to ask Mr. Laughlin if he could not describe the manwho had fired the shot. "I ain't been out on the verandah not for agood hour," began the landlord, when Apache Kid broke in, "Well,Sheriff, I can tell you the name of one of the men who was here."

  "O!" said the sheriff, "and what was his name?"

  "Mike Canlan," said the Apache Kid, calmly.

  "Yes," said the sheriff, looking on him with narrowing eyes, "and thename of the other was Larry Donoghue."

  "Could n't very well be Larry," said Apache Kid. "Larry was drunkto-night before sunset, and I believe you 'll find him snoring in roomnumber thirty at this very moment."

  The sheriff gazed on him a little space and I noticed, on stealing aglance at Mr. Laughlin, that a quick look of surprise passed over hiscolourless face.

  There was a ring as of respect in the sheriff's voice when, after along, eye-to-eye scrutiny of Apache Kid, he said slowly: "You 're a deepman, Apache, but you won't get me to play into your hands."

  So saying he stepped over to me and for the first time addressed me."As for you, my lad, I have n't asked you any questions, because it'sbetter that the like of you don't get mixed up at all in these kind ofaffairs, not even on the right side." He laid his hand on my shoulderin a fatherly fashion, "I 've had my eye on you, as I have my eye oneverybody, and I know you 're an honest enough lad and doing your bestto get a start here. I ain't even blaming you for being in the middleof this, but you take the advice of a man that has been sheriff in adozen different parts of the West, and when you see signs of troublejust you go away and leave it. Trouble with a gun seldom springs upbetween a good man and a bad, but most always between two bad men."

  "Is that my character you are soliloquising on?" said Apache Kid. Thesheriff turned on him and his face hardened again. "For Heaven's sake,Apache," he said, "if you and Canlan both know where the Lost Cabin is,why can't you have the grit to start off? If he follows you, well, youcan fix him. It'll save me a job later on."

  "Well, for the sake of the argument," said Apache, "but remember I 'mnot saying I know, suppose he followed up and shot me out of a bush somenight?"

  "I'd be mighty sorry," said the sheriff, "for I think between the pairof you he 's a worse man for the health of the country."

  A boyish look came over Apache Kid's face that made me think him youngerthan I had at first considered him. He looked pleased at the sheriff'swords and bowed in a way that betokened a knowledge of usages other thanthose of Baker City.

  "Thank you, Sheriff," he said. "I 'll see what can be done."

  Off went the sheriff smartly then, without another word, and Apache Kidturned to me.

  "I 've got to thank you for preventing----" he began, and then theChinaman appeared beside us. "Well, Chink?"

  "Maybe that littee jobee woth half a dollah, eh?"

  "Did Donoghue give you nothing for bringing the message?"

  "Oh, no," and a bland smile. "Mishadonah think you give me half adollah."

  "Well, it was certainly worth half a dollar; but remember, if I find outthat Donoghue gave you anything,----"

  "Oh yes," said the Chinaman, with a slight look of perturbation,"Mishadonah he gave me half-dollah."

  Apache Kid laughed. "Well," he said, "you don't hold up your bluff verylong. However, here you are, here's half a dollar to you all thesame--for your truthfulness."

  I experienced then a feeling of great disgust. Here was this Chinamanlying and wheedling for half a dollar; here just a few minutes gone Ihad seen murder attempted--and for what? All occasioned again by thatlust for gold. And here beside me was a man with a certain likablenessabout him (so that, as I had observed, even the sheriff, who suspectedhim, had a warm side to him) lying and humbugging and deceiving. Ithought to myself that doubtless his only objection to Larry Donoghue'sattempt at murder was because of the prominence of it in this place andthe difficulties that would have ensued in proving Larry guiltless hadthe attempt been consummated. "This man," said I to myself, "for allthat likableness in his manner, the kindly sparkle of his eyes, and thesmile on his lips, is no better than the hang-dog fellow he sought toshield--worse, indeed, for he has the bearing of one who has had atraining of another order." And then I saw Mrs. Laughlin's red head andfreckled face and lean, lissome form in the doorway. She was beckoningme to her, and when I made haste to see what she wanted with me shelooked on me with much tenderness and said: "You want to remember whatthe sheriff said to you, my lad. Take my advice and leave that fellowout there alone for to-night. He's a reckless lad and from the way heis talking to you he seems to have taken a fancy to you. But you leavehim alone. He 's a deep lad, is Apache Kid, and for all his taking wayhe leads a life I 'm sure neither his mother would like to see him in,nor your mother (if you have one) would like to see you taking up.There's some says he's little better than the fellow he gets his namefrom. I 'm sorry for you lads when I see you getting off the trail."

  So what with the words of the sheriff and this well-meant talk and myown disgust at all these doings, I made up my mind to keep clear ofthese three men and not permit my curiosity regarding the Lost CabinMine to lead me into their company again. But when I went up to myroom, before going to bed, I counted my remaining money and found that Ihad but seven dollars to my name. I thought to myself then that theLost Cabin Mine would be a mighty convenient thing to find. And in mydreams that night I wandered up hill and down dale seeking for the LostCabin and engaging in hand-to-hand conflicts with all three of thesemen, Canlan, Donoghue, and the Apache Kid. It was on awakening from oneof these conflicts that I lay thinking over all that I had heard of thatmysterious Cabin and all that I had seen of the three principallyconnected with it. Revolving these thoughts in my mind, it occurred tome that it was an unaccountable thing, if all three knew the situationof the mine, that the two who were "partners" should not simply startout for it and risk being followed up and shadowed by Canlan. They werealways two to one and could take watch a
nd watch by night lest Canlanshould follow and attempt to slay them from the bushes; for that, itwould appear, was the chief danger in the matter.

  Canlan's dread of starting alone I could understand. Then suddenly Isat upright in bed with the sudden belief that the truth of the matterwas that Canlan, and Canlan only, knew of the mine's situation. "Butthat again can't be," said I, "for undoubtedly Donoghue meant murderto-night and that would be to kill the goose with the golden eggs." Iwas no nearer a solution of the mystery but I could not dismiss thematter from my mind. "I believe," said I to myself, "that instead ofhaving nothing to do with this Lost Cabin Mine I will yet find out thetruth of it from these men. Who knows but what I, even I, may be theone for whom the mine with all its treasure waits?"

 

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