Part 2

“Ay hope you never speak,” said Lars through swollen lips. “Bot at de same time, if you do, I not speak back.”

And thus ended the partnership of Lars and Jimmy. After years of sharing the same blanket, going through thick and thin, fighting each other’s battles--they broke friendship over a little elephant carved from yellow ivory.

And a sadness of heart drove the smiles from Ng Loy’s wrinkled face. Lars gloomed by himself; a great brooding figure, who spoke rarely. Jimmy lost his optimistic outlook upon life, and blamed it all upon the sinister influence of the little elephant.

Spring came in earnest and the warm weather thawed deep into the earth. Lars packed up his part of the food, strapped it on his back and went up the east fork of the creek, went away without explanation or a good-by to any one.

Ng Loy shook his head sadly and watched Jimmy take his pack and head for the claim on west fork. It was the parting of the ways for Jimmy and Lars. Ng Loy went back to work on his crude sluice-boxes, tearing with weak efforts into the gravel, to get enough money to enable his old bones to lie beside those of his ancestors.

It was a month later that Jimmy came down to see Ng Loy. They talked little as they smoked in the doorway of the little cabin, but before Jimmy departed he laid a heavy poke of gold on the table.

“You split it three ways, Loy.”

“T’lee ways, Jimmy?”

“Sure. A third belongs to you and a third to----”

Jimmy jerked his thumb toward the east fork mountains.

“Mebbe so he not come back.”

“Ah, ye bet he’ll come back, Loy. He knows that I’m honest and he’ll come back to git his share. See ye later, Loy.”

Loy stood in the doorway and watched Jimmy disappear in the timber. Loy knew that deep in Jimmy’s heart was a dead, dull ache for the companionship of his old partner.

“Friendship is heaven,” mused Loy sadly. “Perhaps they did not believe Ng Loy’s creed. It was heaven for Ng Loy, too; but it is heaven no longer.”

Two weeks later Lars mushed in, with the muck of the creek on his clothes. His face appeared drawn and tired and there was a hunch to his big frame that had not been there before.

“Ay locate on small creek,” he told Loy slowly, “and Ay cut de pay-streak. Hare--” he tossed a poke onto the table--“you divide, Loy. Ay locate you and Yimmy on de claim.”

Loy smiled softly. He knew that the slow-moving Swede was eating his heart out for the companionship of Jimmy, but was too bull-headed even to admit it to himself. He told Lars about Jimmy bringing in his clean-up, and gave Lars his share of the gold.

Lars squinted over it, like a huge ape which had found something he did not understand. Then he stowed it away inside his shirt and went back up the creek. Loy smiled and went back to his work.

A week later Jimmy came down to see him, and sat down beside Loy who was stripping a small piece of bed-rock.

“I kinda got pleurisy,” explained Jimmy, “so I knocked off work for the day. Loy, I ain’t been feelin’ well for a week.”

Loy took him up to the cabin and gave him his share of Lars’ gold.

“I’ll not take it!” exploded the Irishman. “I’ll not soil me hands with that cock-eyed Swede’s gold.”

“He took his share of your gold,” said Loy.

“He would. He’d take everythin’ that ain’t nailed down.”

Loy said nothing, but puttered around, getting a meal.

“Ye told us about that elephant once,” said Jimmy thoughtfully. “What was it ye said about it bringin’ happiness, Loy?”

Loy smiled softly and shook his head.

“Only to the owner is it a charm. Good luck it might bring to any one, but the owner of it will in some way bring happiness to others.”

“I understand,” thoughtfully. “But stealin’ don’t make for ownership, Loy.”

“No.”

“It’s still your elephant, Loy.”

“Yes. No matter who has it--it is still mine, Jimmy.”

“By golly, it was a fine elephant, so it was.”

“It is,” corrected Loy softly.

“That’s right. May the ---- fly away wid that cock-eyed Swede for takin’ it. He wanted to hawg all the luck, so he did.”

“Has it brought him luck?”

Jimmy frowned thoughtfully. He knew that the elephant had not brought Lars any luck.

“Bein’ a thief kinda cooks your luck, Loy.”

“Yes. Honesty is a good luck charm, Jimmy.”

“Sure, you’re a queer Chink, Loy. You’re honest as ---- and ye’ve some queer ideas of heaven and hell, but, I dunno.”

“Because I believe that there is heaven in friendship?”

Jimmy shook his head slowly and looked straight at Ng Loy.

“No, Loy; that part of it is true--Gospel true.”

“And to hate is to suffer torture, Jimmy.”

Jimmy got to his feet and stowed away his pipe.

“Well, I’ll be goin’ now, Loy. So long.”

* * * * *

It was several days later that a lone prospector came mushing up the creek and stopped at Jimmy’s claim. He was heading across the divide, but stopped to relate what news he had of the Outside.

“Did ye see the Chink down at the forks?” asked Jimmy.

“I seen the cabin, but there wasn’t any one around there. The door was open, but the cabin looked kinda like nobody had been in there for a few days. Yuh know what I mean--dirty dishes and all that.”

“Sure, that’s queer,” observed Jimmy. “Ye say the door was open?”

“Yeah. I looked in. Yuh know how a place looks when folks has been away a few days.”

They talked about other things and as soon as the man had gone, Jimmy knocked off work and went down the creek, wondering what had happened to Ng Loy.

At the open door he met Lars. It was their first meeting since Lars had left the cabin, but there was no sign of friendship in their attitude toward each other.

“Where’s Loy?” growled Jimmy.

“Ay don’t seen him,” Lars shook his head.

Jimmy turned and went down to the cut where Loy had been digging, with Lars stumbling along behind him.

And there they found Ng Loy. The Spring thaw had loosened the roots of a big fir-tree on the slope above the cut and under this fallen monarch they found Ng Loy. He had been dead for at least two days.

“By gosh, das hard luck!” breathed Lars sorrowfully.

Jimmy looked at Lars, his eyes filled with tears.

“Hard luck, ye say? Who gave him the hard luck, I’d like to know. Ye stole his luck, ye cock-eyed Swede!”

Lars shook his head, like a wounded buffalo, and hunched close to Jimmy.

“Das lie! You steal de luck yourself.”

“Me!”

Jimmy fell into a fighting crouch, his big hands opening and shutting spasmodically.

“Ye take that back, or I’ll massacree ye, Swede. Ye stole the luck of the whole creek when ye took that elephant.”

But Lars shook his head and glared at Jimmy.

“Ay don’t want for to fight you,” he said slowly. “Ay am tire’ for fighting. You go way.”

“Me go away? And why in the ---- should I go away?”

“Ay am feex up de poor Chink--me. Ay take him to de coast unt ship to China.”

“Oh, ye would, would ye? Ye would steal his luck and then ship him to China, would ye? Well, I’m tellin’ ye that I’m goin’ to do that, Swede. Hands off, that’s what I say to ye; and I’ll tend to me friend’s remains.”

Jimmy turned, picked up Ng Loy’s ax and began cutting away the tree. Lars stood dumbly aside and watched him work, but when Jimmy had severed the trunk of the tree, Lars stepped in and helped him lift it aside.

“I don’t need yer help,” assured Jimmy hoarsely. “Pick up yer heavy feet and go home.”

“You can’t do dis all alone,” declared Lars. “It be a long ways to de coast. Better we make box unt bury him until de snow come.”

Jimmy mopped his brow and considered Lars’ words. It was a long way to the coast, and he had no way of transporting the body. They could bury Ng Loy now, exhume him after the snow came and take him out with the dog-team.

“W’at you t’ink?” queried Lars.

“Sure, I was goin’ to do that,” said Jimmy, unwilling to concede the suggestion.

* * * * *

It was a hard job to make the box, and it was nearly dark when it was completed.

“I’ll bury him on the point of the hill there by the big rock,” said Jimmy.

Lars secured the shovel and pick, but Jimmy demanded that he be allowed to do the work. Lars followed him up the hill and stood aside, while Jimmy cleared away the débris from beside the big rock.

He wanted to place the box as close as possible to the outcropping of granite, beside which was a pile of loose branches, moss and the accumulation of years. Swiftly he yanked this aside with the point of his pick, using it as a rake.

As he started to drive the pick into the dirt, he stopped with the pick raised above his head. He held the pose so long that Lars grunted wonderingly and started forward.

Then Jimmy dropped the pick behind him and fell to his knees, his right hand open, fingers spread, as if afraid to pick up what he had seen.

“Lars!” he croaked thickly. “Will ye look and tell me what ye see? Look man, for the love of God!”

Lars stumbled ahead, crouching almost to the ground. His lips worked soundlessly as he stared at the débris.

“Do ye see it?” breathed Jimmy.

“Ay see dat elephant,” said Lars foolishly.

With a swift, clutching movement, Jimmy sprang to his feet, holding the ivory elephant. He staggered back, as if afraid some one might try to take it from him, holding it close to him in both hands.

“Das ---- pack-rat nest,” said Lars.

Jimmy lifted his eyes and looked across at Lars, and for a space of about ten seconds they stared at each other.

“You cock-eyed Swede!” shouted Jimmy. “You didn’t steal it!”

Lars shook his head and a smile flashed across his face.

“Nor you didn’t, you wild Irishman! By gosh, I’m glad!”

Together they sat down and examined the elephant, as if they had never seen it before. They did not shake hands nor offer any apologies. But they both knew.

“It was good luck, Lars--” Jimmy turned his head and looked square into Lars’ eyes--“but there must have been a lot of evil in that ---- pack-rat. Loy said it was only good luck to its owner, but I dunno.

“Loy still owns it, Lars; so we’ll bury it with him, if ye don’t mind.”

“Dat be best,” nodded Lars. “Ve bury it with Ng Loy.”

For a long time they sat on the side of the hill, while the long shadows stretched down across Trinity forks and threw the little cabin into a blend with the dark of the fir forests beyond it.

They did not talk. It was as if they were resting after a long, long toil. Lars’ huge hands were locked over his knees and on his big face was an expression of wonder.

“If Ng Loy was only here,” said Jimmy.

“Ay vould like dat,” said Lars. “You betcha Ay vould like dat, Yimmy.”

“And do ye remember he said that the owner of the elephant would bring happiness to some one, Lars?”

“I vonder ’bout dat, Yimmy. If he don’t die ve don’t find de elephant--unt never be happy.”

“Ye said it, Lars. Fate works in queer ways.”

And they went down the slope in the twilight--partners again.

[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the December 20, 1923 issue of Adventure magazine.]