The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 26, 1901, Page 6

THE SUNDAY CALL. Copyright, 1901, by Bret Harte. HE four men on the “Zip Coon” Jedge had not got fairly settied to their morning’s work. There was the usual lingering besitation which is ept to attend the teking up of any regular or monotonous performance, shown in this instance in the prolonged scrutiny of & pick's point, the solemn selection of a shovel, or the “hefting” or welghing of & tapping fron or drill One member, becoming interested in a fnnny paregraph he found in the ecrap of newspaper wrapped around his noon- day cheese, shamelessly sat down to fin- ish it, re less of the prospecting pan thrown at him by another. They had teken up their dafly routine of mining life like schoolboys at their tasks. “Hello!” said Ned Wyngate, jovously recognizing & possible further interrup- “Blamed if the Express rider ain’t coming here! . He was shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed over the broad, sun-baked expanse of broken “flat” between them and the high road. They all looked up and saw the figure of a mounted man with & courier’s bag thrown over his shoulder galloping toward them. It was really ar event, as their letters were left at the grocery at the crossroads, usually “] knew something was goin’ to hap- pen,” sald Wyngate. “1 didn’t feel a bit like work this morning.” Here one of their number ran off to meet the advancing horseman. They watched him unti] y saw the latt 2 up and hand a brown enveiope to their messenger, who ran breathlessly back with it to the Ledge as the horseman gal- loped away again “A telegraph for Jackson Wells,” he said, handing it to the young man who had been reading the scrap of paper. There was a dead silence. Telegrams were expensive raities in those days, es- pecially with the youthful bohemian miners of the “Zip Coon” Ledge. They were burning with curiosity, yet a sin- ular thing happened. Accustomed as v had been to a life of brotherly fa- miliarity and unceremoniousness, this portent message from the outside vilization recalled their old for- world of p adily mal pol They looked st from the receiver of the teleg: he, on his part, stammered an “Excuse me, boys,” as he broke the ere was another pause, which seemed be interminable to the waiting part- Then the volce of Wells, in quite eness, “By gum! That's Dexter—read it out Dexter Rice, the foreman, took the proffered telegram from Wells’ hand and read as follows: *“Your uncle, Quincy Wells, died yesterday, leaving you sole will 2 you to-morrow for in- ions. Baker & Twiggs, attorneys, cramento. The three miners’ faces lightened and vously to Wells. But his face zled congratulate you, Mr. Wells,” Wyngate with affected politeness, L your uncle may have been and a title goes with the ‘prop,’ r be Lord Wells, or Very May we said kson Wel * youthful face erplexity, and he began to laugh 1 silently to himself. This was protracted to such an extent that Dexter asserted himeelf, as foreman and senior Jack! don’t sit there cack- ckle-headed magple—if you e helr, can't help it,” gasped Jackson the heir—but, you see, boys, 't any property do you mean? demanded Rice. much' telegraph's too expensive sort © .eelin’. You iee, boys, t an Uncle Quincy—though I don't muth—and he may dead I dxin's consisted of a claim ours and played out long ago, ackled lot of sheds called a cot~ i a kind of market where he gotames. He was aly for calling it ‘property good Lord!" oy there What Is all that a e acres, poor, and me DEXTER RICE, THE Fo! AN D-READ. [ / “A miser, as sure as you're born!” sald Wyngate with optimistic decision. “That’s always the way. You'll find every crack of that blessed old shed stuck full of greenbacks and certificates of deposit, and Jots of gold dust and coin buried all over that cow patch! And, of course, no one /MAN . TOOK, THE PROFFERF D TE suspected it! Ang, of course, T irven’ s alone and never let any one get into his house; and nearly starved himself! Lord love you. There's hundreds of such cases. The world is full of 'em.” “That's $0,” chimed in Pulaski Briges, the fourth partner, “and I'll tell you what, Jacksy, we’ll come over with you the day you take possession and just ‘prospect’ the whole blamed shanty, plg styes and potato pateh, for fun—and won't charge anything.” moment Jackson’s face had really ned under the infection of enthusi- but it presently settled into per- again “No! You bet the boys around Buckeye Hollow would have spotted anything like that long ago.” “Buckeye Hollow!” repeated Rice and his partners. ” Buckeye Hollow; that's the plac: yo not twenty miles from here—and a god- forsaken hole, as you know. A cloud had settled on Zip Coon Ledge. They knew of Buckeye Hollow and it was evident that no good had ever yet come it of that Nazareth. There's no use of talking nmow," said Rice conclusively. *You'll draw it all from that lawyer shark who's coming here to- morrow, and you can bet your Ife he wouldn't have taken this trouble if there wasn't suthin’ in it. Anyhow, we'll knock off work now and call it bonor of our distinguished on to his baronjal estates of Buck- ollow. We'll just toddle down to omlinson’s at the crossroads and have a nip and a quiet game of old sledge at Jacksy's expense. 1 reckon the estate good for that,” he added with severe gravity “And, speaking as a fair-minded man and president of yer company, if Jackson would occasionally take out and air that telegraphic digpatch of his while we're at Tomlinson's, it might do some- thing for that compan credit—with Tomlinson! We're wantin’ some new blastin’ plant bad!” 0ddly enough, the telegram—aceidental- ly shown at Tomlinson’s produced a gratifying effect—and the Zip Coon Ledge aaterially advanced in public estimation, With this possible infusion of new capital into resources, the company was beset by offers of machinery and goods, and it was deemed expedient by the sapient Rice that to prevent the dissemination of any mo! accurate Information regarding Jackson’s property the next day, the law- yer should be met at the stage office by one of the members and conveyed secret- ly past Tomlinson’s to the Ledge.* I'd let you go. he sald to Jackson, “only it won't do for that d—d skunk of a lawyer to think you're toanxious—sabe? We want to rub into him that we are in the habit out yer of havin' things left to us—and a fortin’, more or less, falling into us now and n, ain’t nothing along side of the Zip Coon claim. It won't hurt yet to keep up a big bluff on that hand of yours. No- body wouid dare to ‘call’ you.” Indeed, this jdea was carried out with such elaboration the next day that Mr. Twiggs, the attorney, was considerably impressed both by the conduct of his guide who (although burning with curi- osity). expressed absolute indifference re- garding Jackson Wells' inheritance, and the calmness of Jackson himself, who had to be oste y called from his work on the Ledge to meet him and who even gave him an audience in the hearing of his tners. Forced, into an apologetic at- titude, he expressed his regret at being obliged to bother Mr. Wells with an affair of such secondary importance, but he was obliged to carry out the formalities of the law “What do you suppose the estate worth?” asked Wells carelegsly. “I should not think that the house, the claim and the land would bring more than $1500," replied Twiggs submissively, To the impecunious owners of Zip Coon Ledge it seemed a large sum, but tney did not show it. *“You see,” continued Mr, Twiggs, “it's really a case of ‘willing property from its obvious or direct inheritors—instead of a beneficial grant. I take it that you and your uncle were not particularly Intimate, at jeast so I gath- ered when I made the will, and his simple object was to disinherit his only daughter, with whom he nad some quarrel, and who had left him to live with his late wife's brother, Mr, Morley Brown, who I quit” 18 AS FGLLOws-G_" M wealthy and residing in the same town- xzh;p Perhaps you remember the young lady?” Jackson Wells had a dim recollection of this cousin—a hateful, red-haired school- girl-and an equally unpleasint memory of this other uncle, who was purse-proud west n2d never taken any motice of him. He answered affirmatively. “There may be some attempt to contest the will,” continued Mr. Twiggs, “as the aisinberiting of an only child and a daugh- ter offends the sentiment of the people and of judges and jury, and the law makee such a will invalid, uniess a reason is given. Fortunately your uncle has placed his reasons on record. I have a copy of the will here, and can show you the clause.” He took it from his pocket and read as follows: *T exclude my daughter, Jocelinda Wells, from any ben- efit or provision of this, my will and testa- ment, for the 1eason that she has volun- tarily abandoned her father’s roof for the house of her mother's brother, Morley Brown; has preferred the fleshpots of Egypt to the wirtuous frugalities of her own home, and hag discarded the humble friends of her vouth and the associates of her father for the meretricious and slav- ish sympathy of wealth and position. In lieu thereof, and as compensation therefor 1 do hereby give ang bequeath to her my full and free permission to gratify her fre- quently expressec wish for another guard- in’ nor seen his nephew’s rice. You know how it is yourself in these things—being 2 lawyer and a far-thinded man—it's all on one side, ginerally! There's always one who loves and sacrifices and all that, and there's always one who rakes in the pot! That's the way o’ the world, and that's why,” continued Rice, abandoning his slightly philosophical = attitude and laying his hand tenderly and yet with a singularly significant grip on Wells’ arm, ‘‘we say to him, ‘Hang on to that will and Uncle Quincy’s memory,” And we hev to say it. For he's that tender-hearted and keerless of money—having his own share in this ledge—that ef that girl came whim- perin’ to him he'd let her take the ‘prop'— and let the hull thing slide! And then he'd remember that he had rewarded that gal that broke the old man's heart—and that would upset him again in his work. And there, you see, is just where we come in! And we say, ‘Hang on to that will like grim death!” " The lawyer looked curiously at Rice and his companions, and then turned to Wells. “Nevertheless, I must look to you for in- structlons,” he said, dryly. scarred flats, the discarded levels, ruined flumes and roofless cabins of the earlier occupation, so that when Jackson Wells entered the wide straggling street of “Buckeye’’ that summer morning was filled with the radiance of its blossoms and fragrant with their incense. His first visit there ten years ago had been a pure- 1y perfunctory and hasty ome, yet he re- membered the ostentatious hotel, bullt in the “flush time” of its prosperity, and already In a green prematurs decay; he recalled the express office and town ball also passing away in a kind of similar green deliguescence; the little zinc church, now overgrown with fern and brambles, and the two or three fine sub- stantial houses in the outskirts which seemed to have sucked the vitality of the little settlement. One of these he had been told was the property of his rich and wicked maternal uncle—the hated appro- priat'r of his red-headed cousin’s affec- tions. He recalled his brief visit to the departed testators claim and market garden, and his by no means favorable impression of the lonely crabbed old man, as well as his relief that his objectionable covered and hidden the empty tin cans broken boxes and fragments of clothing which usually heaped and littered the tent pegs of the ploneer. Nature’s own profusion had thrust them into obscurity. Jackson Wells smiled as he recalled hls sanguine partner’s idea of a treasure- trove concealed and stuffed in the crevices of this tenement—aliready so palpably picked clean by those wholesome scaven- gers of California—~the dry air and burn- THE THREE PARTNERS TURNED QUITE. THE coLos. oOF HEm HAIR fan in place’of myself, and to become the adopted daughter of the sald Morley Brown, with the privilege of assuming the name of Brown as aforesald.” “You see,” he continued, ‘‘as the young lady’s pres ent position is a better one than it would be if she were in her father’s house, and was evidently 2 compromise, the senti- mental consideration of her being left homeless and penniless falls to the ground. However, as the inheritance is small, and might be of little account to you, if you chocse to waive it I daresay we may make some arrangement.” This was an utterly unexpected idea to the Zip Coon Company and Jackson ‘Wells was for a moment silent. But Dex- ter Rice was equal to the emergency and turned to the astonished lawyer with se- vere dignity. *“You'll excuse me for inter- ferin’, but as the senior partner of this yer Ledge, and Jackson Wells yer, bein’ a most important member, what affects his usefulness on this claim affects us. And we propose to carry out this yer will, with all its dips and spurs and angles! As the surprised Twiggs turned from one to the other Rice continued: “Ez far as we kin understand this little game it's the just punishment of a high-flying girl as breaks her pore old father's heart and the reward of a young feller ez has bin to our knowledge ez devoted a nephew as they make 'em. Time and time again, sittin’ around our campfire at night, we've heard Jacksy say, kinder to himself and kinder to us, ‘Now, I wonder what’s gone o' cld Uncle Quincy? and he never sat down to a square meal or ever rose from a square game but what he allus said: ‘If old Uncle Quince was only here now, boys, I'd die happy.’ I leave it to you, gentlemen, if that wasn't Jackson Wells’ gait all the time?” There was a prolonged murmur of assent and an affecting cor- roboration from Ned Wyngate of “That was him—that was Jacksy all the time!” “Indeed, indeed,” said the lawyer, nerv- ously. “I had quite the idea that there was very little fondness—" “Not on your side—not on your side,” said Rice, quickly. “Uncle Quincy may not have antied up in this matter o feel- But by this time Jackson Wells—al- though really dubious about supplanting the orphan—had gathered the sense of his partners and said, with a frank show of decision, “I think I must stand by the wilL” “Then I'll have it proved,” said TWIggs, arising. “In the meantime if there is any talk of contesting—" “If there is, you might say,” suggested ‘Wyngate, who felt' he had not had a fair show in the little comedy, “‘ye might say to that old skeesicks of a wife's brother, if he wants to nipple in, ‘that there are four men on the Ledge—and four revol- vers! We are gin'rally far-minded, peace- ful men, but when an old man’s heart is broken and hissgray hairs brought down in sorrow to the grave, so to speak, we're bcund to attend the funeral. Sabe?” When Mr. Twiggs had departed again, accompanied by a partner to guide him past the dangerous shoals of Tomlinson's srocery, Rice clapped his hand on Wells' shoulder. “If it hadn’t been for me, son- ny, that shark would have landed you intc some compromise with that. red- haired gal! 1 saw you weakenin’, and then I chipped in. I may have piled up the agony a little on your love for old - Quince, but if you aren’t an ungrateful cub, that's how you ought to hev been feelin’, anyhow!"” Nevertheless the youth- ful Wells, although touched by his elder partner’s loyaity and convinced ol ius own disinterestedness, felt a painful sense of Icst chivalrous opportunity. On mature consideration it was finally settled that Jackson Wells should make his preliminary examination of his inheri- tance alone, as it might seem inconsist- ent with the previous indifferent attitude of his partners if they accompanied him. But he was implored to yield to no bland- ishments of the enemy and to even make his visit a secret. He went. The familiar flower-spiked tree which had given its name to Buck- eye Hollow had never ylelded entirely to improvements and the incursions of min- ing enterprises, and many of them had even survived the disused ditches, the cousin wnom ne Naa not seen since Ne was a boy, was then absent at the rival uncle’s. He made his way across the road to a sunny slope where the market garden of three acres seemed to roll like a river of green rapids to a little “run’ or brook, which, even in the dry season, showed a trickling rill. But here he was struck by a singular circumstance. The garden rest- ed in a rich alluvial soil, and under the quickening Californian sky had developed far beyond the ability of its late cultiva- tor to restrain or keep it in order. Every- thing had grown luxuriously and in mon- strous size and profusion. *The garden had even trespassed its bounds and im- pinged upon the open road, the deserted claims and the ruins‘of the past. Stimu- lated by the little ' cuitivation Quincy Wells had found time to give it, it had leaped its three acres and rioted through the hollow. There were scarlet runners crossing the abandoned . siuices, peas climbing the courthouse wall, strawber- ries matting the trail, while the seeds and polien of its few homely eastern flowers had been blown far and wide through the woods. By a grim satire nature seemed to have been the only thing that still prospered in that settlement of man. The cabin itself, built of unpainted boards, consisted of a sitting-room, din- ing-room, kitchen and two bedrooms, all plainly furnished, although one of the bedrooms was better ordered, and dis- played certain signs of feminine decora- tion which made Jackson believe it had been his cousin's room. Luckily, the slight temporary structure bore no deep traces of i{s previous occupancy to dis- turb him with its memories, and for the same reason it gained in cleanliness and freshness; the dry desiccating summer wind that blew through it had carried away both the odors and the sense of domesticity; even the adobe hearth had no fireside tales to tell; its very ashes had been scattered by the winds; and the gravestone of its dead owner on the hill ‘was no more flavorless of his personality than was this plain house in which he had lived and died. The excessive vege- tation produced by the stirred-up soil had ing suu. 1et ne was not displeased at this cbliteration of a previous tenancy; there was the better chance for him to originate something. He whistled hope- fully as he lounged with his hands in his pockets toward the only fence and gate that gave upon the rcad. Something stuck up on the gatepost attracted his attention. It was a sheet of paper bear- ing the inscription in a large hand: *‘No- tice to Trespassers. Look out for the Orphan Robber!” A plain signboard in faded black letters on the gate which had borne the legend, “Quiney Wells, dealer in Fruit and Vegetables,” had been rudely altered in chalk to read *“Jackson Wells, Double Dealer in Wills and Codi- and the Intimation “Bouquets sold had been changed to, ‘“Bequests gtole here.” For an Instant the simple- minded Jackson failed to discover any sig- nificance of this outrage—which seemed to him to be merely the wanton mischief of a schoolboy. But a sudden recollection of the lawyer's caution sent the blood to his cheeks and kindled his indignation. He tore down the paper and rubbed out the chalk interpolation—and then laughed at his own anger. Nevertheless he would not have liked his belligerent partners to see it. A little curious to know the extent of this feeling, he entered one of the shops and by one or two questions, which ju- diciously betrayed his ownership of the property, he elicited only a tradesman’s interest in a possible future customer and the ordinary curlosity In a stranger. The barkeeper of the hotel was civil, but brief and gloomy. He had heard the property was “willed away” on account of some family quarrel which ‘“warn’t none of his.” Mr. Wells would find Buckeye Hol- Jow a mighty dull place after the mines, 1t was played out—sucked dry by two or three big mine owners, who were trying to “freeze out” the other settlers, so as they might get the place to themselves and *“‘boom it.” Brown, who had the big house over the hill, was the head devil of the gang. Wells felt his indignation kindle anew. And this girl that he had ousted was Brown’'s friend. Was it pos- sible that she was a party to Brown's de- signs to get this three =mcres with the other lands? If so, his long-suffering un- cle was only just in his revenge. He put all this diffidently before his partners on his return, and was a little startled at their adopting it with sanguine ferocity. They hoped that he would put an end to his thoughts of backing out of it. Such a course now would be dishonor- able to his uncle's memory. It was clearly his duty to resist these blasted satraps of capitalists; he was providentially se- lected for the purpose—a village Hamp- den to withstand the tyrant. “And I reckon that shark of a lawyer knew all about it when he was gettin' off that ‘purp stuff’ about people’s sympathies with the girl,” sald Rice belligerently. “Contest the will, would he? Why, if we caught that Brown with a finger in the pie we'd just whip up the boys on this ledge and lynch him. You hang onto that three acres and the garden patch of your forefathers, sonny, and we'll see you through!” Nevertheless it was with some misgiv- ings that Wells consented that his thres partners should actually accompany him and see him put in peaceable possession of his inheritance. His instinct told him that there wou.u be mno contest of the will, and still less any opposition on the part of the objectionable relative, Brown. When the wagon which contalned his per- sonal effects and the few articles of fur- niture necessary for his occupaney of the cabin arrived the exaggerated swag- ger which his companions had put on in their passage through the settlement gave way to a pastoral indolence equally half- real, half-affected. Lying on thelr backs under a buckeye they permitted Rice to voice the general sentiment: ‘There's a suthin’ soothin’ and dreamy in this kind o' life, Jacksy, and we'll make a point of comin’ here for a couple of days every two weeks to lend you a hand; it will be a mighty good change from our nigger work on the claim.” In spite of this as- surance and the fact that they had volun- tarily come to help him put the place In order they did very little beyond lending @ cheering expression of unqualified praise and unstinted advice. At the end of four