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The Road Agent
by
“Look here, son,” said he to Gaynes. “Don’t do it. There’s nothin’ in it. Take my word.”
“But Fallan’s got a good stamp-mill all ready for business, and the ledge—-“
“Son,” said California John, “every once in a while the Lord gets to experimentin’ makin’ brains for a new species of jackass, and when he runs out of donkeys to put ’em in—-“
“Meaning me?” demanded Gaynes, his fair skin turning a deep red.
“Not at all. Meanin’ Barney Fallan.”
Nevertheless the Babes, as the Gaynes brothers were speedily nicknamed, paid over their good thousand for Barney’s worthless prospect with the imposing but ridiculous stamp-mill. There they set cheerfully to work. After a week’s desperate and clanking experiment they got the machinery under way and began to run rock through the crushers.
“It ain’t even ore!” expostulated California John. “Why, son, it’s only country rock. Go down on your shaft until you strike a pan test, anyway! You’re wasting time and fuel and–Oh, hell!” he broke off hopelessly at the sight of the two cherubic faces upturned respectful but unconvinced.
“But you never can tell where you will find gold,” broke in Jimmy, eagerly. “That’s been proved over and over again. I heard one fellow say once that they thought they’d never find gold in hornblende. But they did.”
California John stumped home in indignant disgust.
“Damn little ijits!” he exploded. “Pigheaded! Stubborn as a pair of mules!” The recollection of the scrubbed red cheeks, the clear, puppy-dog, frank brown eyes, the close-curling brown hair, forced his lips to a wry grin. “Just like I was at that age,” he admitted. He sighed. “Well, they’ll drop their little pile, of course. The only ray of hope’s the experience that old Bible fellow had with them turkey buzzards–or was it ravens?”
The Babes pecked away for about a month, full of tribulation and questions. They seemed to depend almost equally on optimism and chance, in both of which they had supreme faith. A huge horseshoe was tacked over the door of the stamp-mill. Jimmy Gaynes always spat over his right shoulder before doing a day’s work. They never walked under the short ladders leading to the hoppers. Neither would they permit visitors to their shafts. To California John and his friend Tibbetts they interposed scandalized objections.
“It’s bad luck to let another man in your shaft!” cried George. “I’m no high-brow on this mining proposition, but I know enough for that.”
“Bad as playing opposite a cross-eyed man,” said Jimmy.
“Or holding Jacks full on Eights,” supplemented George, conclusively.
“You’re about as wise as a treeful of owls,” said California John, sarcastically. “But, Lord love you, I ain’t cherishin’ any very burnin’ ambition to crawl down your snake hole.”
The Babes used up their provisions; they went about as far as they could on credit; they harrowed the feelings of the community–and then, in a very mild way, they struck it. Together they drifted down the single street of the camp, arm in arm, an elaborate nonchalance steadying their steps. Near the horse trough they paused.
“Gold,” said Jimmy, oracularly, to George, “is where you find it.”
“Likewise horse sense,” quoth George.
Whereupon they whooped wildly and descended on the astonished group. To it they exhibited yellow dust to the value of an hundred dollars. “And more where that came from,” said they.
“What kind of rock did you find it in?” demanded Tibbetts, after he had recovered his breath from the youngsters’ enthusiastic man-handling.
“Oh, a kind of red, pasty-looking rock,” said they.
“Show us,” demanded the miners.
“What?” cried Jimmy, astounded, “and give Old Man Luck the backhand slap just when he’s decided to buy a corner lot in the Gaynes Addition? Not on your saccharine existence!”
“But we’ll show you some more of this to-morrow Q.M.,” said George.
They bought drinks all round, and paid their various bills, and departed again feverishly to the Lost Dog whence rose smoke and clankings. And next day, sure enough, they left their work just long enough to exhibit another respectable little clean-up of fifty dollars or so.