Part 14

"Oh no!" reassured Billy, seized with a sudden anxiety lest the thing had been overdone. "But the boys is all off in th' Hills workin'."

As a matter of fact the boys were doing nothing of the kind. They were behind the cracks of doors and the darkness of windows, watching eagerly every move of the disembarkation, on which they whispered excited comments. Bill Martin was there outside, of course; Lafond sauntered over from the Little Nugget; the gambler sat chair tilted, blowing cigarette rings toward Ragged Top, never even turning his head to see the arrivals, imperturbable, indifferent as ever; Graham and Moroney were on hand by especial request; and of course no one could keep Peter and the Kid away. The men in the cabins were satisfied with their representatives. They need not worry about Graham and Moroney anyway.

The first of the newcomers rolled out over the wheel, stood up on two fat legs, and shook himself in a manner which proclaimed to the dullest that his round face did not belie his good humor. He at once looked about him and laughed. The second was seen to be a tall spare man, gray-faced, deep-lined, but with the wrinkles of laughter about his eyes. He wore a long linen duster and was evidently of the sort that seasons its most serious transactions with a dry and facetious humor. The third was short, small, and irrepressible. He looked as though he should be named Frank, as in fact he was. Although all three were dressed for travelling, they carried with them a solid air of financial responsibility quite foreign to Copper Creek's experience, a certain shrewdness which no new circumstance could ever abash to the extent of forgetting the swiftest means to the main chance. But over this shrewdness now was brushed a film of optimism, the over-abundant hilarity of a business man on a holiday outside his accustomed surroundings, expanding in high spirits, persiflage, and practical jokes. During their stay in Copper Creek this never left them. They were as delighted with the country as children with a new toy, and took it about as seriously.

The concealed onlookers saw the little group stand talking a moment, and then turn into the hotel. Black Jack unloaded from the back of the buckboard several substantial leather-bound valises. Billy drove the horses home and returned on foot. He was pounced upon eagerly. Billy was still glowing with self-induced enthusiasm over Copper Creek.

"It's all right, boys!" he cried exultantly. "They shore has the right idee! They tells me they thinks this is shore the finest kentry they ever see!"

"What to do next?" they inquired anxiously.

"Do? Nothin'! This ain't no circus. When the grub bell rings, mosey on over as usual, and a'ter feedin' we institutes some sort of a game outside."

When the grub bell rang, the miners filed solemnly into the dining-room, darting covert glances at the three visitors, already seated with their entertainers. Some nodded solemnly. The Easterners were laughing and joking each other in the most childish fashion.

"By Jove, there's a girl; only one I've seen!" cried the little man named Frank, as Molly came in and took her seat at another table.

"What of it?" asked Stevens, the tall man, with his mouth full of Black Jack's boiled potatoes.

"But she's a pretty girl."

Murphy, the fat jolly one, carefully removed his butter and soda biscuits, of which the visible supply seemed limited, beyond Frank's reach, and ventured a glance.

"She is pretty," he agreed, firmly thwarting the little man's attempt to steal the butter in spite of his precautions.

He turned to Dan Barker and resumed a labored discussion of the country's game and fishing. The tall man took up his conversation with Billy.

"Yes," said he, "I go through that every morning. I find it invaluable. It keeps me as hard as nails. Feel there!"

He doubled his arm, and Billy placed his huge fingers gingerly over the Easterner's biceps. Down the long table the miners and prospectors ate uneasily, with frequent glances toward the noisy strangers, exchanging rare low-voiced comments, and twisting their feet. Between Molly and the man whom the others called Frank there sprang up an incipient flirtation of glances.

After dinner everybody went outside into the open air, where the gathering relaxed its formality and men breathed mere freely. Murphy conversed with several on the subject of Colt's forty-fives. He expressed a desire for a shooting match, to which end he borrowed Billy's six-shooter, and handled it so recklessly that everybody wanted to duck.

Finally he planted the muzzle firmly between his fat legs, rested both hands on the butt, and looked about him triumphantly.

"What'll I hit?" he asked.

"God knows!" ejaculated the tall man; "but you can shoot at this." He drew an envelope from his pocket, and turned toward a small board box resting against the stump of a tree. Bill Martin started forward in alarm.

"Hol' on!" cried he, "I got some chickens in that thar coop!"

The tall man turned and wrung his hand in a mock access of gratitude. "Thank you! thank you!" he cried fervently. "To think how near I came to having the blood of those innocent chickens on my head! I shall never cease to feel grateful to you, sir!"

He marched over to the coop and pinned the envelope square in the middle of it.

"There," said he, stepping back with an air of satisfaction. "Now the chickens are perfectly safe!"

The proprietor grinned very doubtfully. Several men laughed, one after the other, as the joke penetrated.

"You go to hell, Steve," said the fat man, bubbling all over.

He raised the long six-shooter with an easy gesture.

"They're just as good as meat!" he asserted confidently as he squinted over the sights. A breathless pause ensued.

"Always cock your pistol before shooting," Frank finally admonished in a soft and didactic voice.

Murphy, red-faced, muttered something about self-cockers and tried again. This time the pause was succeeded by a deafening report, and the pistol leaped wildly. From the coop burst a single frightened squawk. Murphy beamed.

All crowded about the box, examining for the bullet hole. On the instant, Frank became wildly and triumphantly excited, dancing about the motionless end of an index finger which pointed toward the unscratched coop. The marksman looked nonplussed for a single instant. Then his face cleared.

"It went right in through that!" he claimed arrogantly, pointing the barrel of the revolver toward a small knot hole. The other two men at once gave vent to snorts of derisive contempt. "Prove that it didn't," insisted the fat one. "Just prove that it didn't, and I'll pay up." He tucked his thumbs into the lower pockets of his waistcoat, supporting the revolver pendent on one forefinger, and smiled broadly.

Billy's straightforward mind saw no diplomacy beyond the inexorable logic of the situation. "Thar ought t' be a bullet hole in th' other side of th' coop then," he suggested in a modest voice.

Murphy cast upon him the glance of reproach.

"I give up," he confessed with grieved dignity, and, without awaiting an investigation, turned toward the saloon. "It means drinks," he observed laconically. "All of you!" he added to the crowd.

Near the door Peter fell in with the procession. The tall man seized upon him before even that experienced animal could escape. After an ineffectual lunge or so backward toward his haunches, the homely dog seemed to realize that no harm was intended, and so became quiet. Stevens passed his hands rapidly down Peter's back and haunches, lifted him first off his fore legs, then off his hind legs, watching carefully the exact position he assumed when he touched the ground again, pushed his gums away from his teeth, and moulded through the fingers the outline of his head.

"It's a genuine Airedale," he asserted with interest. "Who does he belong to, and where did he come from?"

Nobody knew.

"I don't suppose there's another west of the Mississippi," he went on. "It's a peculiar breed, built for scrapping." The men gathered about with a new interest in Peter. "Don't know just what the strain is, but it's bred in the valley of the Aire, in England. The laboring classes there mostly make furniture, and as they work by the piece, they can take all the time off they want. Consequently they're a sporty lot, and go in for cock fighting and racing and badger baiting, but, most of all, dog fighting. They evolved this strain from something or other. A good Airedale can lick anything except a Great Dane, and he falls down there only because the Dane's too big for him."

"I know of a bull terrier--" began Murphy.

"Your bull wouldn't be ace high. Look at the teeth on him! Get on to the thickness of those bones! Do you think teeth would stick on that slippery bristle coat of his? or, if they did, do you think they would get into that tough loose hide very hard?" He suddenly released Peter and stood up. "Frank," said he, "come here and size up this pup."

Peter shook himself and walked gravely into the arms of the adoring Kid. The Kid had listened open-mouthed to every word of the expert's statement.

But Frank had disappeared. The incipient flirtation had developed.

XXIII

A FOOL FOR LUCK

When it is a question of mining, the most cautious business man loses his head.

It is very difficult to realize the fact that the Western property must not be judged by Eastern standards.

These two short paragraphs state the main reasons why, in the first place, so much capital is sown in waste places; and why, in the second place, Western gold mines have so bad a reputation among investors. Nine out of ten of the legitimate mines of our Western States would be good investments if they could be run as carefully and intelligently as is any wholesale grocery. The expectation of big gambling returns seems to render men careless as to the smaller details.

Why this should be so, it would be difficult to say. Of the truth of the statement there is absolutely no doubt in the world, as anyone who knows the history of the West can testify.

During the three days' duration of their stay, the Easterners looked at facts, incomprehensible to the eyes of such as they, through the explanations, honest enough in intention, of Billy Knapp. He led them, perspiring but pleased, from prospect to prospect, from shaft to shaft, from hill to hill. He showed them leads, fissure veins, red quartz, white quartz, water supplies, timberings, hanging walls, country rock, pan tests, and he talked about it all with that easy fluency of eloquence, that flattering assumption of the other man's sophistication, which is so peculiarly a talent--nay, a genius--of the Westerner.

Some trades there are for which all men imagine themselves qualified without especial training--such as horse buying, writing stories, judging pictures, and mining. This is a little strange when one reflects that other things, such as painting, skating, keeping accounts, or making a horseshoe, while not a whit more difficult, are acknowledged to require a certain amount of technical education and practice. Perhaps it is because the initial concept is so simple; as, in this case, the digging of ore from the ground, and the reduction of it. Details come, not from observation, but from actual experience. Anybody, on the other hand, can see, without understanding, the complexity of double-entry bookkeeping.

On the afternoon of the third day, the Easterners, Billy Knapp, and Michail Lafond gathered formally to talk it over. The latter contrived to be included because he was a man of experience. After some little preliminary discussion, in which the Easterners showed by their airy familiarity with the topic just how much of the local color had soaked in, Stevens rapped on the table.

"Although this is not strictly a business meeting," he began, "perhaps we can get at what we want better by putting some little formality into its discussions. The question before us is this: Mr. Knapp here possesses certain property which he wishes to dispose of. We have been over it thoroughly in the last few days, we have examined the figures relating to its assays and the gross value of the claims. They have been satisfactory. We have next, as it seems to me, to figure on the probable working expense, in order that we may, with some intelligence, estimate the margin of profit." He sorted over some papers on the table before him. "Let us take up the Great Snake lode first. What, in your idea, would be necessary for its development?"

"Wall," began Billy, rising formally. "They is practically two leads on th' Great Snake; an' if you-all decides to work 'em both, you'd want a shaft on each. A plain-timbered shaft costs you yere about twenty to twenty-five dollars a foot. Then you needs cross-cuts, and drif's at about five or ten a foot besides--that includes everythin'--men, tools, powder. Then yore pump an' hoist is worth about two or three thousan'. includin' minin' expenses for two months. That's all th' actual expense connected with th' Great Snake itself; but of course you has to have yore stamp mill and washer for all the group of claims. A good stamp mill costs you ten thousan' dollars, but it's good forever."

"How much shaft and tunnel would you have to sink before getting to a paying basis?" asked Frank briefly.

"That would depen'. You wants to get to water level, of course, afore yore shore; but it might pay right squar' from th' surface. Count on a hunderd foot."

"And when you get to pay level, what capacity a day would you have?"

Billy laughed. "That depen's too. You can put on more or less men. Call her from fifteen to twenty ton a day."

They bent their heads together over the figures. After a little Stevens read the following tabulation:--

2 shafts of 100 feet each @ 20.00 . . . . . . . $4,000.00 Cross-cuts and drifts, say . . . . . . . . . . . 1,200.00 Pump and hoist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,000.00 1-10 of the cost of mill (there were ten claims) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1,000.00 -------- Initial expense . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $8,200.00

"That thar figger," observed Billy, "brings her right up to date without no squealin' whatever. Yere you figgers on taking good hard rock out of four hunderd foot of tunnel an' shaft. Lots of that is pay quartz. You got to figger that you gets some return out of it all. They's a good many ton of ore in four hundred foot of shaft!"

"That is true," said Murphy. "There won't be eight thousand outlay without any return."

"Yore dead right!" agreed Billy.

"Let that go for now," interrupted Stevens. "We can call that 'velvet.' Now what we want to know is, what will be the working expense of converting the ore into gold when the initial expense is over?"

"Call her about five dollars," replied Billy promptly.

Stevens consulted the assay table. "The ore on the Great Snake as shown by samples taken from various spots in the prospect shaft averages $8.55," said he. He figured for a moment. "Allow $3.00 a ton profit at twenty tons a day, it would take only a little over four months to catch the initial expense."

"Of course there's your running expenses of a camp," suggested Frank.

"Oh yes, but look at the margin to cover them."

They went on to the next, and the next, until the ten claims were all figured over. Not all showed as alluring a prospect as the Great Snake, for that was admittedly the banner claim of the group, but all yielded a good margin of profit. It was simple as a proposition in algebra. Assay value minus cost of production equals profits. There was no unknown quantity in sight. Lafond alone saw one, and he held his peace.

One more item the Easterners had to include, and this, falling within their business habits, and out of Billy's, they arranged to their own satisfaction. It was Billy's price for his claims.

"Now what are your ideas on the subject, Mr. Knapp?" asked Stevens briskly.

Billy hesitated. "Mebbe it's funny," he confessed; "but I hadn't settled on a price. I know you gentlemen 'll do what is right. But I would like to stay with her a bit."

"Stay with her?"

"Yes," explained Billy, embarrassed. "Keep a holt; sort to be interested myself, you know." There spoke Billy's vanity.

The three talked together low-voiced for a moment. They had conceived a vast respect for Billy's capacity in the West, however unsophisticated he might appear in the East; and they had long before talked out in anticipation just this point. Stevens voiced their decision.

"We have decided, Mr. Knapp," he began, "to ask you to be our superintendent, provided of course the company is formed. We feel sure that your best efforts will be expended in our behalf, because your interests will be ours." Then he went on briefly to flatter Billy exceedingly, until that individual was ready to weep with joy. "Our proposition is this," he concluded. "We intend to form a stock company of two hundred thousand shares at one dollar a share, non-assessable. Of this amount a majority will be held by the promoters of the company, some other smaller amount will remain in the treasury, and, say, fifty thousand will be floated on the market. Our offer is, to make you superintendent at a nominal salary of five thousand, and to give you in addition thirty thousand promoter's shares as your price of the claims. These shares you may either sell or keep. Thus you may either take a certain sum of money, or you may pool your interests with ours, confident that every good showing made by you as superintendent will increase the value of your holding as participator in the enterprise. In other words it gives you a personal interest in your work here. What do you say?"

"Heads I win, tails you lose," said Lafond over in the corner, but he said it under his breath.

To Billy it was all gorgeous. He saw only that he was offered thirty thousand dollars and five thousand a year, in addition to keeping the position of prominence he coveted. To him the paper dollar shares looked as good as paper dollar bills.

"What do I say?" he cried, "I say 'put her thar,' and thank you. Let's go have a drink!"

So the meeting adjourned, wonderfully inspirited, especially Michail Lafond, for at last he saw a chance.

As he looked up at the stars that night before turning in, he made a quaint little sign on high. It was the Indian gesture of worship. "Lafond," he purred to himself, "you are a fool for luck. Rippling Water used to say you were born under a lucky star, and by the Turtle, I believe she was right!"

For though the Easterners thought they had done well in paying Billy with a paper futurity, Lafond saw two sides to the question. The meeting had been conducted, apparently, in the most business-like and painstaking manner, yet it was to be noted that the fundamental facts, the facts on whose accuracy depended the whole value of the subsequent figuring, were accepted on Billy's mere say-so, without an attempt at outside verification. Billy was honest, but he was superficial. His temperament did not force him to search out the little details. Michail Lafond was in the habit of searching them out very thoroughly.

He saw that one claim, because of its peculiar situation, would require an ore bin of equally peculiar construction; that it might perhaps be necessary to flume water to another; that a third, though its surface showing was good, gave indications of being nothing but a blow-out; that though the assay of a certain ore was high, the actual working value might be low, because of the refractory character of the rock. In regard to mere externals of camp-building, his experience taught him that the Easterners' estimate would turn out to be superficial. His view from the inside showed him that every last article of equipment for the buildings, and every pound of machinery, would have to be brought in on mules; that men might not always be easy to get in a new country; that hay for horses came from a distant prairie, at prices that corresponded to the distance; that the enthusiastic promoter is rarely or never the careful, painstaking superintendent. And so with a hundred other items, which the Easterners had entirely overlooked. It is marvellous that they should have done so. Translate gold into button hooks, the Hills into a factory, Billy Knapp into an impecunious small proprietor anxious to sell, and not one of the three would have gone into the affair so blindly. But it is true. And more, the history of this operation at Copper Creek is the faithful history of a myriad of exactly similar enterprises in the West. Ask your broker friend, or anyone in a position to watch the floating of schemes on Change; he will tell you.

Having settled the business of the trip, the Easterners spent a few ridiculously juvenile days in pleasure. Billy worked himself nearly blind to get them a shot at deer, but without success. They visited Custer. On their way back to the railroad, they took in the Pine Ridge Reservation, where they saw five thousand Sioux, and bought beaded moccasins and short ill-made arrows. Finally they piled on the Pullman, vastly pleased with their sunburn, and a little inclined to swagger in the presence of these clean-shaven, quietly civilized travellers who had not just left the exciting dangers of a pioneer country.

Billy accompanied them. His presence was necessary in Chicago where the new company was to be "floated" and its final organization brought about.

None of the results of the visit were as yet known officially, but of course a well verified rumor had got about that the Easterners were really going to "take hold" and every man in camp was at the hotel door to bid the visitors farewell. Michail Lafond was the last man at the hub of the wheel before the horses started.

"I am glad you came," said he, holding Stevens' hand while he spoke, "and I am glad you are going to invest here. It will help us all, and I sincerely hope it will help you."

Stevens looked at him suddenly, as if to discover whether the lack of confidence in the words was reflected in the man's face. Apparently satisfied, he replied easily, "Course it will."

"Always figure on the safe side," suggested Lafond.

"You're dead right there," responded the other, "and that is just what we've done. We've put down that fifty thousand as dead clear outlay for a starter, without any offsets by way of return, and surely some of that ore will pay something before we get down two hundred feet. Oh, we're all right on that. You'll see us booming before spring!"

Lafond watched the wagon out of sight with a smile in his inscrutable eyes. Then he went down to spend his afternoon with Durand, humming the remnants of a little Canadian _chanson_.

"A fool for luck," he repeated to himself; "a regular fool for luck, Lafond. All you have to do is to sit right still, and it comes to you without the effort on your part."

Between him and his object there now intervened but fifty thousand dollars. And fifty thousand dollars was not an unlimited sum of money.

XXIV

BILLY STARTS IN ON HIS FIFTY THOUSAND

Billy was gone almost a month.

During that interim Lafond had absolutely nothing to do but wait, for his affairs, both domestic and foreign, were doing well.