CHAPTER IV
CASH
It was evident to Bunker Hill that no common measures would serve tointerest this young capitalist in his district; and yet there he was, abig husky young miner, with eight hundred dollars in his pocket. Thateight hundred dollars, if wisely expended, might open up a bonanza inPinal; and in any case, if it was spent with him, it would help to paythe freight. Old Bunk chopped open a bale of hay with an ax and gave hishorse a feed; and, after he had given his prospect time to rest, hedrifted off down towards the creek.
The creek at Pinal was one of those vagrant Western streams that appearand disappear at will. Where its course was sandy it sank from sight,creeping along on the bed-rock below; but where as at Pinal the bed-rockcame to the surface, then the creek, perforce, rushed and gurgled. Fromthe dark and windy depths of Queen Creek Canyon it came rioting downover the rocks and where the trail crossed there was a mighty sycamorethat almost dammed its course. With its gnarled and swollen roots halfdug from their crevices by the tumultuous violence of cloudbursts, itclung like an octopus to a shattered reef of rocks and sucked up itsnourishment from the water. In the pool formed by its roots the minnowsleapt and darted, solemn bull-frogs stared forth from dark holes, and ina natural seat against the huge tree trunk Big Boy sat cooling his feet.He looked younger now, with the blood washed off his face and the hardlines of hunger ironed out, and as Bunker Hill made some friendly crackhe showed his white teeth in a smile.
"Pretty nice down here," he said and Bunker nodded gravely.
"Yes," he said, "nice place for frogs. Say, did you ever hear the storyabout Spud Murphy's frog farm? Well Spud was an old-timer, awful gallantto the ladies, especially when he'd had a few drinks, and every timehe'd get loaded about so far he'd get out an old flute and play it. Butit sounded so sad and mournful that everybody kicked, and one time overat a dance when Spud was about to play some ladies began to jolly himabout it.
"'Well, I'll tell you,' says Spud, 'there's a story connected with thatflute. The only time I ever stood to make a fortune I spoiled it byplaying that sad music.'
"'Oh, tell us about it,' they all says at once; so Spud began on histale.
"It seems he was over around Clifton when some French miners came inand, knowing their weakness, Spud dammed up the creek and got ready tohave a frog farm. He sent back to Arkansaw and got three carloads ofbull-frogs--thoroughbreds old Spud said they was--and turned them loosein the creek; and every evening, to keep them from getting lonely, he'dplay 'em a few tunes on his flute. Well, they were doing fine, gettingused to the dry country and beginning to get over being homesick, whenone night Murph went up there and played them the Arkansaw Traveler.
"Well, of course that was the come-on--Old Spud stopped his story--andfinally one lady bit.
"'Yes, but how did you lose your fortune?' she asks and Spud he shakeshis head.
"'By playing that tune,' he says. 'Them frogs got so homesick theystarted right out for Arkansaw--and every one perished on the desert.'"
"Huh!" grunted Big Boy, who had been listening intolerantly. "Say, isthat all you do--sit around and tell stories for a living? Why the helldon't you git out and work?"
"Well, you got me again, kid," admitted Old Bunk mournfully, "I'm suresorry I made you that talk. But I was so doggoned sore at that pardnerof yours that I kinder went out of my head."
"Well, all right," conceded Big Boy, "if that's the way you feel aboutit there's no use rubbing it in, but you certainly lost out with me. Myhands may be big, but I never broadened my knuckles by battering onother people's back doors. At the same time if I have to ask a man for ameal I expect to be treated civil. When I'm working around town and aminer strikes me for a stake I give him a dollar to eat on, and if Ihappen to be broke when I land in a new camp I work my face the sameway. That's the custom of the country, and when a man asks me why Idon't work----"
"Aw, forget it!" pleaded Bunker, "didn't I ask your pardon? Didn't mywife tell you why I said it? But I'll bet you, all the same, if you'dfed as many as I have you'd throw a fit once in a while, yourself.Here's the whole camp shut down, only one outfit working and they'rejust running a diamond drill--and at the same time I have to feed everyhobo that comes through, whether he's got any money or not. How'd youlike to buy your grub at these war-time prices and run a hotel fornothing, and at the same time keep up the assessment work on fifteen ortwenty claims? Maybe you'd get kind of peevish when a big bum laid inhis blankets and wouldn't even get up for breakfast!"
"Ah, that man Meacham!" burst out Big Boy scornfully. "Say do you knowwhat that yap did to me? We were drilling pardners in the double-jackcontest--it was just yesterday, over in Globe--and in the last fewminutes he began to throw off on me, so I had to win the money myself.Practically did all the work, and while they were giving me a rub-downafterwards he collected the money and beat it. I'd put up every dollar Ihad in side bets, and the first prize was seven hundred dollars; but hecollected it all and then, when I began looking for him, he took outover this trail. Well, I was so doggoned mad when I found out what he'ddone that I didn't even stop to eat, and I followed him on the run untildark. When I ran out of matches to look for his tracks I laid down andslept in the trail and this morning when I got up I was so stiff andweak that I couldn't hardly crawl. But I caught the big jasper andbelieve me, old-timer, he'll think twice before he robs me again!"
"He will that," nodded Bunker, "but say, tell me this--ain't half ofthat money his?"
"Not a bean!" declared Big Boy. "We fought for the purse, the winner totake it all. He saw I was weak or he'd never have stood up to me--that'swhy he was so sore when he lost."
"I'd never've let him hurt you!" protested Old Bunk vehemently, "I hadmy gun on him, all the time. And if I'd had my way you'd never havefought him--I'd have taken the purse away from him."
"Yes, that's it, you see--that's what he was fishing for--he wanted youto make it a draw! But I knew all the time I could lick him with onehand--and I did, too, and got the money!"
"You did danged well!" praised Bunker roundly, "I never see a gamierfight; but I thought at the end he sure had you beat--you could hardlyhold up your hands."
"All a stall!" exclaimed Big Boy proudly. "I began fighting his way atfirst, but I saw I was too weak to slug; so, just for a come-on, Ipulled my blows and when he made a swing I downed him."
"Well, well!" beamed Old Bunk, "you certainly are a wise one--you knowhow to use your head. I wouldn't have believed it, but if you're assmart as all that you've got no business working as a miner. You've gota little stake--why don't you buy a claim and make a play for big money?Look at the rich men in the West--take Clark and Douglas andWingfield--how did they all get their money? Every one of them made itout of mining. Some started in as bankers, or store-keepers orsaloon-keepers; but they got their big money, just the same as you or Iwill, out of a four-by-six hole in the ground. That's the way I dope itout and I've spent fifteen years of my life just playing that system towin. Me and old Bible-Back Murray, the store-keeper down in Moroni, havebeen working in this district for years; and, sooner or later, one orthe other of us will strike it and we'll pile up our everlastingfortunes. I hate the Mormon-faced old dastard, he's such a sanctifiedold hypocrite, but I always treat him white and if his diamond drillhits copper he'll make the two of us rich. Anyhow, that's what I'mwaiting for."
Big Boy looked up at the striated hills which lay like a section oflayer cake between the base of the mountains and the creek and then heshook his head.
"Nope," he said, "it don't look good to me. The formation runs tooregular. What you need for a big mineral deposit is some fissure veins,where the country has been busted up more."
"Oh, it don't look like a mineral country at all, eh?" enquired BunkerHill sarcastically. "Well, how do you figure it out then that they tookout four million dollars' worth of silver from that little hill right upthe creek?"
"Don't know," answered Big Boy, "but you couldn't work it now, withsilver down to fifty-two cents
. It's copper that's the high card now."
"Yes, and look what happened to copper when the war broke out?" criedBunker Hill derisively, "it went down to eleven cents. But is it down toeleven now? Well, not so you'd notice it--thirty-one would be more likeit--and all on account of the metal trust. They smashed copper down,then bought it all up, and now they're boosting the price. Well, they'lldo the same with silver."
"Aw, you're crazy," came back Big Boy, "they need copper to makemunitions to sell to those nations over in Europe; but what can you makeout of silver?"
"Oh, nothing," jeered Bunker, "but I'll tell you what you _can_do--you can use it to pay for your copper! You hadn't figured that out,now had you? Well, here now, let me tell _you_ a few things. Thesepeople that are running the metal-buying trust are smart, see--they lookway ahead. They know that after we've grabbed all the gold away fromEurope those nations will have to have some other metal to stand behindtheir money--and that metal is going to be silver. The big operators upin Tonopah ain't selling their silver now, they're storing it away invaults, because they know in a little while all the nations in the worldare going to be bidding for silver. And say, do you see that line ofhills? There's silver enough buried underneath them to pay the nationaldebt of the world."
He paused and nodded his head impressively and Big Boy broke into agrin.
"Say," he said, "you must have some claim for sale, like an old feller Imet over in New Mex.
"'W'y, young man,' he says when I wouldn't bite, 'you're passing up theUnited States Mint. If you had Niagara Falls to furnish the power, andall hell to run the blast furnace, and the whole State of Texas for adump, you couldn't extract the copper from that property inside of amillion years. It's big, I'm telling you, it's big!' And all he wantedfor his claim was a thousand dollars, down."
"Aw, you make me tired," confessed Bunker Hill frankly, now that he sawhis sale gone glimmering, "I see you're never going to get very far.You'll tramp back to Globe and blow in your money and go back topolishing a drill. W'y, a young man like you, if he had any ambition,could buy one of these claims for little or nothing and maybe make afortune. I'll tell you what I'll do--you stay around here a while andlook at some of my claims; and if you see something you like----"
"Nope," said Big Boy, "you can't work me now--you lost your horse-shoethis morning. I was a hobo then and you told me to go to hell, but nowwhen you see I've got eight hundred dollars you're trying to bunco meout of it. I know who you are, I've heard the boys tell aboutyou--you're one of these blue-bellied Yankees that try to make a livingswapping jack-knives. You got your name from that Bunker Hill monumentand they shortened it down to Bunk. Well, you lose--that's all I'll say;I wouldn't buy your claims if they showed twenty dollar gold pieces,with everything on 'em but the eagle-tail. And the formation is no goodhere, anyhow."
"Oh, it ain't, hey?" came back Bunk thrusting out his jaw belligerently,"well take a look up at that cliff. That Apache Leap is solidporphyry----"
"Apache Leap!" broke in Big Boy suddenly sitting erect and looking allaround, "by grab, is this the place?"
"This is the place," replied Old Bunk wagging his head and smilingwisely, "and that cap is solid porphyry."
"Gee, boys!" exclaimed Big Boy getting up on his feet, "say, is thatwhere they killed all those Indians?"
"The very place," returned Bunker Hill proudly, "you can find theirskeletons there to this day."
"Well, for cripe's sake," murmured Big Boy at last and looked up at thecliff again.
"Some jump-off," observed Bunker, but Big Boy did not hear him--he waslooking up at the sun.
"Say," he said, "when the sun rises in the morning how far out does thatshadow come?"
"What shadow?" demanded Bunker Hill. "Oh, of Apache Leap? It goes wayout west of town."
"And does it throw its shadow on these hills where your claims are?Well, old-timer, I'll just take a look at them."
He climbed out purposefully and began to put on his shoes and Old Bunksquinted at him curiously. There was something going on that he did notknow about--some connection between the Leap and his mines; he waited,and the secret popped out.
"Say," said Big Boy after a long minute of silence, "do you believe infortune-tellers?"
"Sure thing!" spoke up Bunker, suddenly taking a deep breath andswallowing his Adam's apple solemnly, "I believe in them phenomenaimplicitly. And, as I was about to say, you can have any claim I've gotfor eight hundred dollars--cash."
Silver and Gold: A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp Page 4
