Rensselaer Republican, Volume 26, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 November 1893 — JUMPING A CLAIM. [ARTICLE]

JUMPING A CLAIM.

Chicago Times. It was New Year’s eve in the camp and the Gold Nugget saloon was doing a heavy business all along tht line. Drinks were being rapidly dispensed over the counter, and in thf rear faro, roulette, and draw pokei were flourishing. —- “Pete” was in high humor. Hf had “bucked the tiger” successfully to-night and had quite enough ahead to work his claim in Corkscrew gulch. True, he had not done his assessment work this year, and by law anybody could “jump” the “Lone Star” that very day at midnight. But Pete was not the man to be footed with, as he already had two graves to his credit in Doc Turner’s ranch (the name applied to the cemetery in honor of a local doctor), which contained the bodies of two “tenderfeet” who had “differed” with him and were accidentally shot. The old year had but a few minutes to live when Hank Smith tied up his horse among the tall, snowladen pine trees near the “Lone Star,” and, loosening the thongs which fastened a pick to his horse’s saddle, and transfering a couple of sticks of dynamite and some candles from his saddle-bag to his pockets, shouldered the pick and slowly mounted the tortuous trail. He had long awaited this moment. Four years ago he had owned the Lone Star himself, but sickness came and he could not work his asssessment, and when he returned to the prospect and found Pete, armed to the teeth, in possession, he had accepted his hard luck with a good grace, but had “laid” for Pete ever since. But now at last his opportunity had come, and he determined to regain his property, and defend it at the risk of his life if necessary. “The tunnel was soon reached, and the moonlight, streaming aslant its black mouth, easily disclosed to his eyes Pete’s location stake. He looked at his watch. It marked exactly midnight. He then lit a candle and, finding a board, quickly sharpened one end of it, and smoothing off the board end, wrote his location notice on it —rechristening the claim the “Bright Hopes,” and planted the stake firmly in the ground. Thinking he would go into the tunnel and “see how she looked,” he took up his candle and pick and started in.

Just as he did so he thought he heard a whistle. He paused and listened; some one was coming up the trail below, whistling softly. Quickly dousing the light he crouched behind a big bowlder just at the mouth of the tunnel and drew his revolver. A few minutes later Pete stepped in view with a week’s supplies. Before he could put his burden down Hank suddenly rose up before him with the muzzle of his pistol almost touching the other’s face. “Hands up!” he cried; “I’ve got the drop on yer now.” Pete, seeing the other man had a full hand, promptly threw up his while Hank deftly relieved him of his firearms. “ ’Tain’t worth fightin’ about, anyhow,” Said Pete, carelessly. “There ain’t a pound of ore in the whole claim.” “Oh, come off,” said Hank. “How about all that ore you shipped last summer?” “That was out of a pocket I struck which petered out mighty quick; but if you don’t believe me, I’ll go in the hole and show you,” and taking a candle, Pete started in the tunnel, Hank following, but keeping his hand within easy reach of his gun. The breast of the tunnel was soon reached, and Pete, holding his candle up before it, said: “There, now, whatdid I tell yer? It’s nothin’ but dead rock.”

Hank took his candle and carefully examined the breast, roof and sides, but not a trace of mineral could be seen. “You’re welcome to her,” said Pete; “I’ve blown in all the money I want to; you can have a blast at her now if you want to.” Hank did not reply but appeared to be lost in thought. Finally he said, “Hold my candle a minute, Pete,” and taking his pick in both hands he struck the breast a heavy blow, and the rock and mud with which Pete had plastered it to fool curious and unwelcome visitors fell away, exposing a vein of glittering white metal. Almost at the same instant there was a deafening report and Hank fell to the ground with a bullet through his heart. Pete, with a smoking revolver in his hand, which he had snatched from Hank’s belt as 'he struck the blow, stood over him with a grim smile as he muttered “Another accident!” But retribution was close at hand. The reverberation of the shot had hardly died away among the neighborning peaks when a rock, which had long been loose, started by the sudden shock, fell from the roof, bringing tons of earth with it, and Pete and his third victim were crushed into a shapeless mass.