Silver and Gold: A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp

by Dane Coolidge

  CHAPTER VII

  THE EMINENT BUTTINSKY

  That there was no love lost between Bunker Hill and ProfessorDiffenderfer was evident by their curt greetings, but as they began tobandy words Denver became suddenly aware that he was the cause of theirfeud. He and his eight hundred dollars, a sum so small that a shoestringpromoter would hardly notice it; and yet these two men with theirsuperfluity of claims were fighting for his favor like pawn-brokers.Bunker Hill had seen him first and claimed him as his right; butProfessor Diffenderfer, ignoring the ethics of the game, was out to makea sale anyway. He carried in one hand a large sack of specimens, andunder his arm were some weighty tomes which turned out to be Governmentreports. He came up slowly, panting and sweating in the heat, and whenhe stepped in Bunk was waiting for him.

  "O-ho," he said, "here comes the Professor. The only German count thatever gave up his title to become an American barber. Well, Professor,you're just the man I'm looking for--I want to ask your professionalopinion. If two white-bellied mice ran down the same hole would the onewith the shortest tail get down first?"

  The Professor staggered in and sat down heavily while he wiped the sweatfrom his eyes.

  "Mr. Russell," he began, ignoring the grinning Bunker, "I vant toexpound to you the cheology of dis country--I haf made it a lifelongstudy."

  "Yes, you want to get this," put in Bunker _sotto voce_, "he knowsevery big word in them books."

  "I claim," went on the Professor, slapping the books togethervehemently, "I claim dat in dis district we haf every indication of agigantic deposit of copper. The morphological conditions, such as we seeabout us everywhere, are distinctly favorable to metalliferousdeposition; and the genetic influences which haf taken place later----"

  "Well, he's off," sighed Bunker rising wearily up and ambling overtowards the door, "so long, Big Boy, I'll see you to-morrow. Never couldunderstand broken English."

  "Dat's all righd!" spat back the Professor with spiteful emphasis, "I'maddressing my remarks to dis _chentleman_!"

  "Ah--so!" mimicked Bunker. "Vell, shoodt id indo him! And say, tell himabout that tunnel! Tell him how you went in until the air got bad andcame out up the hill like a gopher. Took a double circumbendibus and,after describing a parabola----"

  "Dat's all righd!" repeated the Professor, "now--you think you're sosmart--I'm going to prove _you_ a liar! I heard you the other daytell dis young man here dat dere vas no golt in dis district. Vell! Allrighd! We vill see now--joost look! Vat you call _dat_ now, my gootyoung friend?" He dumped out the contents of his canvas ore-sack andnodded to Denver triumphantly. "I suppose dat aindt golt, eh! Maybe Itry to take advantage of you and show you what dey call fools gold--whatmineralogists call pyrites of iron? No? It aindt dat? Vell, let me askyou vun question den--am I righd or am I wrong?"

  "You're right, old man," returned Denver eagerly as he held a specimento the light; and when he looked up Bunker Hill was gone.

  "You see?" leered the Professor jerking his thumb towards the door, "dotman vas trying to _do_ you. He don't like to haf me show you disgolt. He vants you to believe dat here is only silver; but I am acheologist--I know!"

  "Yes, this is gold," admitted Denver, wetting the thin strip of quartz,"but it don't look like much of a vein. Whereabouts did you get thesespecimens?"

  "From a claim dat I haf, not a mile south of here," burst out theProfessor in great excitement; and while Denver listened in stunnedamazement he went into an involved and sadly garbled exposition of thegeological history of the district.

  "Yes, sure," broke in Denver when he came to a pause, "I'll take yourword for all that. What I want to know is where this claim is located.If its inside the shadow of Apache Leap, I'll go down and take a look atit; but----"

  "But vat has the shadow of the mountain to do with it?" inquired theProfessor with ponderous dignity. "The formation, as I vas telling you,is highly favorable to an extensive auriferous deposit----"

  "Aw, can the big words," broke in Denver impatiently, "I don't give adang for geology. What I'm looking for is a mine, in the shadow of thatbig cliff, and----"

  "Ah, ah! Yes, I see!" exclaimed the Professor delightedly, "it mustconform to the vords of the prophecy! Yes, my mine is in the shadow ofApache Leap, where the Indians yumped over and were killed."

  "Well, I'll look at it," responded Denver coldly, "but who told youabout that prophecy? It kinder looks to me as if----"

  "Oh, vell," apologized the Professor, "I vas joost going by and Icouldn't help but listen. Because dis Bunker Hill, he is alvaysspreading talk dat I am not a cheologist. But him, now; _him_! Doyou know who he is? He is nothing but an ignorant cowman. Ven dis minevas closed down I vas for some years the care-taker, vat you call thecustodian of the plant; and dis Bunker Hill, ven I happened to go avay,he come and take the job. I am a consulting cheologist and my servicesare very valuable, but he took the job for fifty dollars a month andcame here to run his cattle. For eight or ten years he lived right indat house and took all dat money for nothing; and den, when the Companycan't pay him no more, he takes over the property on a lien. Dat fine,valuable mine, one of the richest in the vorld, and vot you think hedone with it? He and Mike McGraw, dat hauls up his freight, dey tore itall down for junk! All dat fine machinery, all dem copper plates, allthe vater-pipe, the vindows and doors--they tore down everything andhauled it down to Moroni, vere they sold it for nothing to Murray!

  "Do you know vot I would do if I owned dat mine?" demanded the Professorwith rising wrath. "I vould organize a company and pump oudt the vaterand make myself a millionaire. But dis Bunker Hill, he's a big bag ofvind--all he does is to sit around and talk! A t'ousand times I haf toldhim repeatedly dat dere are millions of dollars in dat mine, and at'ousand times he tells me I am crazy. For fifteen years I haf beggedhim for the privilege to go into pardners on dat mine. I haf writtenreports, describing the cheology of dis district, for the highest miningjournals in the country; I haf tried to interest outside capital; andden, for my pay, when some chentleman comes to camp, he tells him dat Iam a barber!"

  The Professor paused and swallowed fiercely, and as Denver broke into agrin the old man choked with fury.

  "Do you know what dat man has been?" he demanded, shaking a tremblingfinger towards Bunker's house, "he has been everything but an honestman--a faro-dealer, a crook, a gambler! He vas nothing--a bum--when hisvife heard about him and come here from Boston to marry him! Dey vasboy-und-girl sveetheart, you know. And righdt avay he took her money andput it into cows, and the drought come along and killed them; and now hehas nothing, not so much as I haf, and an expensive daughter besides!"

  He paused and wagged his head and indulged in a senile grin.

  "Und pretty, too--vat? The boys are all crazy, but she von't have athing to do with them. She von't come outdoors when the cowboys ride byand stop to buy grub at the store. No, she's too good to talk to oldmens like me, and with cowboys what get forty a month; but she spendsall her time playing tunes on the piano and singing scales avay up in G.You vait, pretty soon you hear her begin--dat scale-singing drives memadt!"

  "Oh, sings scales, eh?" said Denver suddenly beginning to take aninterest, "must be studying to become a singer."

  "Dat's it," nodded the old man shaking his finger solemnly, "her mothervas a singer before her. But after they have spent all their money toeducate her the teacher says she lacks the temperament. She can neversing, he says, because she is too _dumf_; too--what you callit--un-feeling. She lacks the fire of the vonderful Gadski--she has notthe g-great heart of Schumann-Heink. She is an American, you see, anddat is the end of it, so all their money is spent."

  "Oh, I don't know," defended Denver warmly, "what's the matter withNordica, and Mary Garden and Farrar? They're Americans, all right, andI've got some of their records that simply can't be beat! You wait tillI get out my instrument."

  He broke open a box in which was packed with many wrappings a polishedand expensive phonograph, but as he was clearing a space on a ricketyold ta
ble the Professor broke into a cackle.

  "Dere! Dere!" he cried, "don't you hear her now? 'Ah, ah, ah, oo, oo,oo, oo!' Vell, dat's what we get from morning till night--by golly, itmakes me sick!"

  "Aw, that's all right," said Denver after listening critically, "she'sjust getting ready to sing."

  "Getting ready!" sneered the Professor, "don't you fool yourselfdere--she'll keep dat going for hours. And in the morning she puts onjust one thin white dress and dances barefoot in the garden. I come bydere one time and looked over the vall--and, psst, listen, she don'tvare no corsets! She ought to be ashamed."

  "Well, what about you, you danged old stiff?" inquired Denver withill-concealed scorn. "If Old Bunk had seen you he'd have killed you."

  "Ah--him?" scoffed the Professor, "no, he von't hurt nobody. Lemme tellyou something--now dis is a fact. When he married his vife--and she's anawful fine lady--all she asked vas dat he'd stop his tammed fighting.You see? I know everyt'ing--every little t'ing--I been around dis placetoo long. She came right out here from the East and offered to marryhim, but he had to give up his fighting. He was a bad man--you see? Hewas quick with a gun, and she was afraid he'd go out and get killed. SoI laugh at him now and he goes avay and leaves me--but he von't let metalk with his vife. She's an awful nice woman but----"

  "Danged right she is!" put in Denver with sudden warmth and after arapid questioning glance the Professor closed his mouth.

  "Vell, I guess I'll be going," he said at last and Denver did not urgehim to stay.