Jasper County Democrat, Volume 19, Number 62, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 November 1916 — GOLD [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

GOLD

By STEWART EDWARD WHITE

SYNOPSIS Talbot Ward’s challenge to Frank Munroe to a personal encounter to determine whether Munroe is fit to make a trip to California In search of gold Is accepted. Munroe gets a hammerlock on Ward -and wins the bout. Arriving at Chagres, Talbot Ward’s knowledge of Spanish and his Arm treatment of the native boatmen help wonderfully. The party enters a tropical forest. They reach Gatun, and, after passing through several villages where Ward always diplomatically handles the natives, they arrive in Panama. Ward puts It up to each man to get f 220 In one day. Munroe makes $25 as a laborer. Johnny gambles and gets $220. Ward astounds the party by telling b° w * by shrewd business deals in one day fa the Golden City, he accumulated several thousand dollars. Ward decides that he will not go with the party to the mines, but will stay in Ban Francisco, where he thlnVif more geld is to be found. The party dig their first gold. They are mot much encouraged when told that the value of their first pan is 12 cents. Don Gaspar, a Spaniard, and his manservant Yasquez Jola forces with the trio and the gold is divided into five parts. After working like beavers several days the miners decide to take a day off and attend a miners’ meeting in town. For sls a week in gold and a drink of whisky twice a day Bagsby promises to lead the party to & rich unexplored mining country. A band of Indians come into the camp to trade. They are thankful for blankets. Later the Indians attempt an ambuscade, but are routed by rifle shots.

CHAPTER XVIII. The Robbery. WE cooked ourselves a meal and built ourselves a fire. About midnight we heard the sounds of horses rapidly approaching. Immediately we leaped from our bunks and seized our rifles, peering anxiously into the darkness. A moment later, however, we were reassured by a shrill whistle peculiar to Back Barry, and a moment later he and Don Gaspar rode into camp. We assailed them with a storm of questions—why had they returned? What had happened? Where was Tank? Had there been an accident? Don Gaspar, who appeared very weary and depressed, shook his head sadly. Barry looked at us savagely from beneath his brows. “The gold is gone, and that’s an end of it!” he growled. At these words a careful, dead silence fell on us all. The situation had suddenly become too serious for hasty treatment. We felt instinctively that a wrong word might do irreparable damage. But in our hearts suspicion and anger and dfll hatred leaped to life full grown. We tightened our belts, as it were, and clamped our elbows to our sides and became wary, watching with unfriendly eyes. Johnny atone opened his lips. “Lost? I don't believe it!” he cried. Barry cast an ugly look at him, but said nothing. We all saw that look. “Where’s Tank?” I asked. “Dead by now, I suppose,” flung back Barry. “Good God!” I cried, and under my breath. “Then you’ve murdered him!” I don’t know whether Barry heard me or not and at the time I did not much care. His sullen eye was resting on one after the other of us as we stood there in the firelight. Every face was angry and suspicious. Barry flung himself from his horse, tore the pad from its back, slapped it on the flank and turned away, reckless of where It went He cut himself a steak and set to cooking his food, an uncompromising shoulder turned in our direction. Nor did he open his mouth to utter another word until the general discussion later in the evening. Don Gaspar, who owned the only riding saddle, unharnessed his horse, led it to water, knee haltered it and turned it loose to graze. While he was gone no one spoke, but we glanced at each other darkly. He turned, sat down by the fire, rolled himself a cigaretto and volunteered his story. “My fren’,” said he, with a directness and succinctness utterly foreign to his everyday speech, “you want to know what happen’. Ver’ well, It was like this.”

He told us that after we had left them they hurried on as fast as possible in order to reach the settled country. Owing to the excellence of his animal he was generally some distance in advance. At one point, stopping on a slight elevation to allow them to catch up. he looked back in time to aee two men on horseback emerge from ♦he chaparra! just behind his companions. Don Gaspar shouted and leaped from his saddle, but before the warning had reached the others a riata from the hand of one of the men had fallen with deadly accuracy around Yank’s arms and body, jerking him violently from the saddle. The thrower whirled his horse to drag his victim, Don Gaspar fired and by great good luck shot the animal through the brain. “It fell in a heap, pinning its rider beneath it In the meantime Barry had leaped to the ground and from behind the shel-

fer of his horse had shot the first roDher through the body. Our two companions now drew together and took refuge behind some large rocks, preparing to receive the charge of a band of half dozen who now appeared. The situation looked desperate. Don•'Gaspar fired and missed. He was never anything of a marksman, and his first shot must have been a great piece of lnck. Barret held his fire. The robbers each discharged his rifle, hut harmlessly. Then just as they seemed about to charge in they whirled their horses and made off into the brush. “We could not tell the why,” observed Don Gaspar. The two men did not speculate, but ran out to where Tank lay, apparently dead, his arms still bound close to his body by the noose of the riata. Barry cut the rope with his bowie knife, and they rolled him over. They found he still breathed, but that, beside the shock of his violent fall, he had been badly trampled by the horses. After a moment he came to consciousness, but when they attempted to lift him upright they found that his leg was broken. •

At this moment they heard the sound of voices and, looking up, saw coming from the other direction a band of a dozen men, half of whom were on horseback and all of whom were armed. This looked serious. “We got behind the rock,” said Don Gaspar, “but we think to ourself our goose is cook.” The newcomers, however, proved to be miners who had heard the shots and who now came hurrying up. Evidently the robbers had caught sight or sound of their approach. They were much interested in the state of affairs, examined the horse Don Gaspar had killed, searched for and found the body of the robber Barry had shot. It proved to be a Mexican well known to them all and suspected to be a member of Andreas Aljo’s celebrated band. They inquired for the dead horse’s rider. “And then, for the first time,” said Don Gaspar, “we think of him. He went down with his horse. But now he was gone and also the horse of Senor Tank. But I think he crawl off in the chaparral and that the horse of Senor Tank run away with the other horse of the dead man.”

We saw the futility of our first instinctive flare of suspicion. It was obvious that if Don Gaspar and Buck Barry had intended treachery they would never have returned to us. I think that, curiously enough, we were unreasonably a little sorry for this. It would have been satisfactory to have

had something definite to antagonize. As it was, we sat humped around our fire until morning. With daylight we began to get a grip on ourselves a little. I felt strongly that I should see to Yank and so announced. Johnny at once offered to accompany me. While we were talking over the future prospects McNally came over to us, saying: “The boys are pretty well agreed that we ought to divide up what gold is left and let each man take care of his own share. Are you agreeable?” We instantly assented. The scales were brought out, and the division began. It consumed most of the morning and was productive of much squabbling, in which, however, we took no part. Our share, including Yank’s, with which we were intrusted, came tc about thirty-one pounds, a value ol about $7,000. By noon we had packed our goods, and by night we had broken the back of our return journey. We found a full grown town where we had left a few tents and miners’ cabins. Its main street ran either side the deep dust of the immigrant trail and consisted of the usual shanties, canvas shacks and log structures, with rather more than the customary allowance of tin cans, old clothes, wornout boots and empty barrels kicking around. The diggings were in the gulch below the road, but the streets of the town, and especially the shady sides of the buildings, were numerously furnished with lounging men. Don Gaspar led the way for a short distance along the wagon road. On the outskirts of the settlement he turned aside to a small log cabin supplemented by a brush lean-to. A long Itring of bright red peppers hung down the face of it. To our knock came a tery fat, rather dirty but exceedingly pleasant raced woman with glossy black hair, parted smoothly, and soft black eyes. She opened the door ohly the fraction of an inch at first, but instantly recognized Don Gaspar and threw it wide. To our great relief, we found Yank very much alive. He greeted us rather feebly, but with satisfaction. We found that he had been kindly ,cared for and that the surface wounds and bruises from the horses’ hoofs had been treated with some skill. *

- But I reckon I’m hurt some inside,” he whispered with difficulty, “for I can’t breathe easy, and I can’t eat nothin’ bat soup.” The broken leg too had been bound up after a fashion, but It was badly swollen above and below the bandages. “He ought to have a doctor,” said I positively. “There’s no doubt of that. There must be some among the miners. There generally is. I’m going to see if I can find one.” I returned to town and bunted up the beefy, red faced hotel keeper, who had impressed me as being an honest man. “Tes, there’s a doctor,” said he, “a mighty good one. He went by here a little while ago. Name’s Dr. Rankin. I’ll rustle him out for you. Oh, you Pete!” he shouted into the interior of the building. A moment's shuffling about preceded the appearance of a negro hoy of twelve or fourteen. “Tes, Bah.” “Go find Dr. Rankin and bring him here right away. Tell him a gentleman wants him.”

Shortly the negro boy reappeared, closely followed by a man with a blue coat and white beaver hat, whom I had taken for an eccentric gambler. This man walked slowly up to face me. “Well, sir?” he demanded. “I am told I can be of service. In what way?” His piercing black eye held mine with a certain high arrogance. “Professionally, doctor,” I replied. “A friend of mine is lying badly hurt in a nearby hut.” For a barely appreciable Instant his eye held mine after I had ceased speaking, as though he was appraising me. Then he bowed with old fashioned courtesy. “At your service, sir,” said he. “Pete, you black rascal, get my bag, and get it quick.” The little negro, who had stood by obviously worshiping, broke into a grin and darted into the hotel, almost instantly reappearing with a regulation professional satchel. “At your service, sir,” repeated Dr. Rankin.

Arrived at the hut of the Morenas, for that it seemed was the name of our host and hostess, Dr. Rankin laid aside his furry beaver hat, walked directly to the side of the bunk on which Tank lay and began his examination without vouchsafing anything or anybody else the slightest glance. At the end of ten minutes he threw the blanket over our friend’s form and stood erect, carefully dusting the ends "of his fingers against one another. “Broken leg, badly set,” said he; “two broken ribs, severe surface bruises and possibility of internal bruises in the region of the spleen. Neglected too long. Why wasn’t I sent for before?” We assisted at the rather dreadful process of resetting a broken leg three days old. At the end of the operation we were all pretty limp. “How long?” gasped Tank, opening his eyes. “Three months; not a day iess If you want that leg to be as good as ever,” stated Dr. Rankin uncompromisingly. Yank closed his eyes and groaned. The doctor resumed his coat and picked up his beaver hat. “What treatment?” I ventured to ask. “I will inform the woman,” replied the doctor. “These Californians are the best nurses in the world, once things are op a proper footing.” “Your fee, sir?” asked Johnny very formally, for the doctor’s brusque manner had rubbed. “One ounce,” stated Dr. Rankin. “I shall direct the woman, and I shall return one week from today unless conditions change. In that case summon me.” | He pouched the gold dust that Johnny shook into the palih of his hand at a guess, bowed formally to each of us in turn, picked up his hag and departed rigidly erect, the fine red dust crawling and eddying at his feet. Then we held a council of war, all of us. Don Gaspar announced his Intention of returning to his rancho in the south. “I have found the gold, and I have made fren’s, and I have now enough,” said he. Bagfcby, too, said he thought he would just ride down as far as Sutter’s Fort, there to lay in a supply of powder and hall for a trip in the mountains. “I kind of want to git up Another b’ar fight,” said he. “If I thought there was a ghost of a show to git them robbers for you hoys I’d stay and help you scout for them, hut there ain’t a show in the world. They’ve had a good three days’ start.” After shaking hands with us again and again and obtaining promises that we should all surely meet in San Francisco or Monterey they mounted and took their departure in order to get well clear of the settlement before nightfall. When they had gone Yank opened his eyes from the apparent sleep Into which he had fallen. “You fellows don’t hang around here with me. I can tell you that,” he started. “I’m fixed all right. I want you to make arrangements with these people yere to keep me. Tuck my gold under my piller, stack old Betsey up yere in the corner by me and go about your business. You come out yere to dig gold, not to take keer of cripples." “All right. Yank, we’ll fix it somehaw,” I agreed. ‘Now, if you’re all right, Johnny and I will* Just go and straighten out our camp things a little.” (To be continued. 1

The average weight of the hogs received at Chicago was 219 pounds during 1915 and 231 in 1914. The corresponding averages at Kansas City were 200 and 191, respectively.

Yank Lay, Apparently Dead, His Arms Still Bound.