CHAPTER I.
IN WHICH GABRIEL RECOGNISES THE PROPRIETIES.
After the visit of Mr. Peter Dumphy, One Horse Gulch was not surprisedat the news of any stroke of good fortune. It was enough that he, thegreat capitalist, the successful speculator, had been there! Theinformation that a company had been formed to develop a rich silver minerecently discovered on Conroy's Hill was received as a matter of course.Already the theories of the discovery were perfectly well established.That it was simply a grand speculative _coup_ of Dumphy's--that upon aboldly conceived plan this man intended to build up the town of OneHorse Gulch--that he had invented "the lead" and backed it by anostentatious display of capital in mills and smelting works solely for aspeculative purpose; that five years before he had selected GabrielConroy as a simple-minded tool for this design; that Gabriel's Two andOne Half Millions was merely an exaggerated form of expressing the exactwages--One Thousand dollars a year, which was all Dumphy had paid himfor the use of his name, and that it was the duty of every man toendeavour to realise quickly on the advance of property before thisenormous bubble burst--this was the theory of one-half the people of OneHorse Gulch. On the other hand, there was a large party who knew exactlythe reverse. That the whole thing was purely accidental; that Mr. PeterDumphy being called by other business to One Horse Gulch, while walkingwith Gabriel Conroy one day had picked up a singular piece of rock onGabriel's claim, and had said, "This looks like silver;" that GabrielConroy had laughed at the suggestion, whereat Mr. Peter Dumphy, whonever laughed, had turned about curtly and demanded in his usual sharpbusiness way, "Will you take Seventeen Millions for all your right andtitle to this claim?" That Gabriel--"you know what a blank fool Gabeis!"--had assented, "and this way, sir, actually disposed of a propertyworth, on the lowest calculation, One Hundred and Fifty Millions." Thiswas the generally accepted theory of the other and more imaginativeportion of One Horse Gulch.
Howbeit within the next few weeks following the advent of Mr. Dumphy,the very soil seemed to have quickened through that sunshine, and allover the settlement pieces of plank and scantling--thin blades of newdwellings--started up under that beneficent presence. On the bleak hillsides the more extensive foundations of the Conroy Smelting Works werelaid. The modest boarding-house and restaurant of Mrs. Markle was foundinadequate to the wants and inconsistent with the greatness of One HorseGulch, and a new hotel was erected. But here I am anticipating anotherevidence of progress--namely, the daily newspaper, in which these eventswere reported with a combination of ease and elegance one may envy yetnever attain. Said the _Times_:--
"The Grand Conroy House, now being inaugurated, will be managed by Mrs. Susan Markle, whose talents as a _chef de cuisine_ are as well known to One Horse Gulch as her rare social graces and magnificent personal charms. She will be aided by her former accomplished assistant, Miss Sarah Clark. As hash-slinger, Sal can walk over anything of her weight in Plumas."
With these and other evidences of an improvement in public taste, theold baleful title of "One Horse Gulch" was deemed incongruous. It wasproposed to change that name to "Silveropolis," there being, in thefigurative language of the Gulch, "more than one horse could draw."
Meanwhile, the nominal and responsible position of Superintendent of thenew works was filled by Gabriel, although the actual business andexecutive duty was performed by a sharp, snappy young fellow of abouthalf Gabriel's size, supplied by the Company. This was in accordancewith the wishes of Gabriel, who could not bear idleness; and theCompany, although distrusting his administrative ability, wiselyrecognised his great power over the workmen through the popularity ofhis easy democratic manners, and his disposition always to lend hisvaluable physical assistance in cases of emergency. Gabriel had become agreat favourite with the men ever since they found that prosperity hadnot altered his simple nature. It was pleasant to them to be able topoint out to a stranger this plain, unostentatious, powerful giant,working like themselves, and with themselves, with the added informationthat he owned half the mine, and was worth Seventeen Millions! Always ashy and rather lonely man, his wealth seemed to have driven him, by itsvery oppressiveness, to the society of his humble fellows for relief. Acertain deprecatoriness of manner whenever his riches were alluded to,strengthened the belief of some in that theory that he was merely thecreature of Dumphy's speculation.
Although Gabriel was always assigned a small and insignificant part inthe present prosperity of One Horse Gulch, it was somewhatcharacteristic of the peculiar wrongheadedness of this community thatno one ever suspected his wife of any complicity in it. It had been longsince settled that her superiority to her husband was chiefly thefeminine charm of social grace and physical attraction. That, warmed bythe sunshine of affluence, this butterfly would wantonly flit fromflower to flower, and eventually quit her husband and One Horse Gulchfor some more genial clime, was never doubted. "She'll make themmillions fly ef she hez to fly with it," was the tenor of localcriticism. A pity, not unmixed with contempt, was felt for Gabriel'sapparent indifference to this prophetic outlook; his absoluteinsensibility to his wife's ambiguous reputation was looked upon as thehopelessness of a thoroughly deceived man. Even Mrs. Markle, whoseattempts to mollify Olly had been received coldly by that youngwoman--even she was a convert to the theory of the complete dominationof the Conroy household by this alien and stranger.
But despite this baleful prophecy, Mrs. Conroy did not fly nor show anyinclination to leave her husband. A new house was built, with thatrapidity of production that belonged to the climate, among the pines ofConroy's Hill, which on the hottest summer day still exuded the freshsap of its green timbers and exhaled a woodland spicery. Here the goodtaste of Mrs. Conroy flowered in chintz, and was always fresh andfeminine in white muslin curtains and pretty carpets, and here thefraternal love of Gabriel brought a grand piano for the use of Olly, anda teacher. Hither also came the best citizens of the county--even thenotabilities of the State, feeling that Mr. Dumphy had, to a certainextent, made One Horse Gulch respectable, soon found out also that Mrs.Conroy was attractive; the Hon. Blank had dined there on the occasion ofhis last visit to his constituents of the Gulch; the Hon. JudgeBeeswinger had told in her parlour several of his most effectivestories. Colonel Starbottle's manly breast had dilated over herdish-covers, and he had carried away with him not only a vividappreciation of her charms capable of future eloquent expression, but anequally vivid idea of his own fascinations, equally incapable ofconcealment. Gabriel himself rarely occupied the house except for theexigencies of food and nightly shelter. If decoyed there at other timesby specious invitations of Olly, he compromised by sitting on the backporch in his shirt sleeves, alleging as a reason his fear of thecontaminating influence of his short black pipe.
"Don't ye mind _me_, July," he would say, when his spouse with anxiousface and deprecatory manner would waive her native fastidiousness andaver that "she liked it." "Don't ye mind me, I admire to sit out yer.I'm a heap more comfortable outer doors, and allus waz. I reckon thesmell might get into them curtings, and then--and then," added Gabriel,quietly ignoring the look of pleased expostulation with which Mrs.Conroy recognised this fancied recognition of her tastes, "and then_Olly's friends and thet teacher_, not being round like you and me allezand used to it, _they_ mightn't like it. And I've heerd that the smellof nigger-head terbacker do git inter the strings of a pianner andkinder stops the music. A pianner's a mighty cur'us thing. I've heerdsay they're as dilikit and ailin' ez a child. Look in 'em and see themlittle strings a twistin' and crossin' each other like the reins of asix mule team, and it 'tain't no wonder they gets mixed up often."
It was not Gabriel's way to notice his wife's manner very closely, butif he had at that moment he might have fancied that there were otherinstruments whose fine chords were as subject to irritation anddiscordant disturbance. Perhaps only vaguely conscious of some womanishsullenness on his wife's part, Gabriel would at such times disengagehimself as being the possible disorganising element, and lounge a
way.His favourite place of resort was his former cabin, now tenantless andin rapid decay, but which he had refused to dispose of, even after theerection of his two later dwellings rendered it an unnecessary andunsightly encumbrance of his lands. He loved to linger by the desertedhearth and smoke his pipe in solitude, not from any sentiment, consciousor unconscious, but from a force of habit, that was in this lonely manalmost as pathetic.
He may have become aware at this time that a certain growing disparityof sentiment and taste which he had before noticed with a vague pain andwonder, rendered his gradual separation from Olly a necessity of herwell-doing. He had indeed revealed this to her on several occasions withthat frankness which was natural to him. He had apologised with markedpoliteness to her music teacher, who once invited him to observe Olly'sproficiency, by saying in general terms that he "took no stock inchunes. I reckon it's about ez easy, Miss, if ye don't ring me in. Thetchile's got to get on without thinkin' o' me--or my 'pinion--allowin' itwas wuth thinkin' on." Once meeting Olly walking with some older andmore fashionable school friends whom she had invited from Sacramento, hehad delicately avoided them with a sudden and undue consciousness of hisgreat bulk, and his slow moving intellect, painfully sensitive to whatseemed to him to be the preternatural quickness of the young people, andturned into a by-path.
On the other hand, it is possible that with the novelty of her newsituation, and the increased importance that wealth brought to Olly, shehad become more and more oblivious of her brother's feelings, andperhaps less persistent in her endeavours to draw him toward her. Sheknew that he had attained an equal importance among his fellows fromthis very wealth, and also a certain evident, palpable, superficialrespect which satisfied her. With her restless ambition and the new lifethat was opening before her, his slower old-fashioned methods, hisabsolute rusticity--that day by day appeared more strongly in contrastto his surroundings--began to irritate where it had formerly onlytouched her sensibilities. From this irritation she at last escaped bythe unfailing processes of youth and the fascination of newerimpressions. And so, day by day and hour by hour, they drifted slowlyapart. Until one day Mrs. Conroy was pleasantly startled by anannouncement from Gabriel, that he had completed arrangements to sendOlly to boarding-school in Sacramento. It was understood, also, thatthis was only a necessary preliminary to the departure of herself andhusband for a long-promised tour of Europe.
As it was impossible for one of Gabriel's simple nature to keep hisplans entirely secret, Olly was perfectly aware of his intention, andprepared for the formal announcement, which she knew would come inGabriel's quaint serious way. In the critical attitude which the childhad taken toward him, she was more or less irritated, as an older personmight have been, with the grave cautiousness with which Gabriel usuallyexplained that conduct and manner which was perfectly apparent and openfrom the beginning. It was during a long walk in which the pair hadstrayed among the evergreen woods, when they came upon the littledismantled cabin. Here Gabriel stopped. Olly glanced around the spot andshrugged her shoulders. Gabriel, more mindful of Olly's manner than hehad ever been of any other of her sex, instantly understood it.
"It ain't a purty place, Olly," he began, rubbing his hands, "but we'vehad high ole times yer--you and me. Don't ye mind the nights I used tokem up from the gulch and pitch in to mendin' your gownds, Olly, and youasleep? Don't ye mind that--ar dress I copper fastened?" and Gabriellaughed loudly, and yet a little doubtfully.
Olly laughed too, but not quite so heartily as her brother, and cast hereyes down upon her own figure. Gabriel followed the direction of herglance. It was not perhaps easy to re-create in the figure before himthe outr['e] little waif who such a short time--such a long time--ago hadsat at his feet in that very cabin. It is not alone that Olly was betterdressed, and her hair more tastefully arranged, but she seemed in someway to have become more refined and fastidious--a fastidiousness thatwas plainly an out-growth of something that she possessed but _he_ didnot. As he looked at her, another vague hope that he had fostered--afond belief that as she grew taller she would come to look like Grace,and so revive the missing sister in his memory--this seemed to fade awaybefore him. Yet it was characteristic of the unselfishness of hisnature, that he did not attribute this disappointment to her alone, butrather to some latent principle in human nature whereof he had beenignorant. He had even gone so far as to invite criticism on ahypothetical case from the sagacious Johnson. "It's the differenceatween human natur and brute natur," that philosopher had answeredpromptly. "A purp's the same purp allez, even arter it's a grown dorg,but a child ain't--it's the difference atween reason and instink."
But Olly, to whom this scene recalled another circumstance, did notparticipate in Gabriel's particular reminiscence.
"Don't you remember, Gabe," she said, quickly, "the first night thatsister July came here and stood right in that very door? Lord! howflabergasted we was to be sure! And if anybody'd told me, Gabe, that_she_ was going to marry _you_--I'd, I'd a knocked 'em down," sheblurted out, after hesitating for a suitable climax.
Gabriel, who in his turn did not seem to be particularly touched withOlly's form of reminiscence, rose instantly above all sentiment in aconsideration of the proprieties. "Ye shouldn't talk o' knockin' peopledown, Olly--it ain't decent for a young gal," he said, quickly. "Notthat I mind it," he added, with his usual apology, "but allowin' thatsome of them purty little friends o' yours or teacher now, should hearye! Sit down for a spell, Olly. I've suthin' to tell ye."
He took her hand in his and made her sit beside him on the rude stonethat served as the old doorstep of the cabin.
"Maybe ye might remember," he went on, lightly lifting her hand in his,and striking it gently across his knee to beget an easy confidentialmanner, "maybe ye might remember that I allers allowed to do two thingsef ever I might make a strike--one was to give you a good schoolin'--theother was to find Grace, if so be as she was above the yearth. They wazmany ways o' finding out--many ways o' settin' at it, but they warn't_my_ ways. I allus allowed that ef thet child was in harkenin' distanceo' the reach o' my call, she'd hear me. I mout have took other men tohelp me--men ez was sharp in them things, men ez was in that trade--butI didn't. And why?"
Olly intimated by an impatient shake of her head that she didn't know.
"Because she was that shy and skary with strangers. Ye disremember howshy she was, Olly, in them days, for ye was too young to notice. Andthen, not bein' shy yourself, but sorter peart, free and promisskiss,ready and able to keep up your end of a conversation with anybody, andallus ez chipper as a jay-bird--why, ye don't kinder allow that furGracy as I do. And thar was reasons why that purty chile should beshy--reasons ye don't understand now, Olly, but reasons pow'ful andstrong to such a child as thet."
"Ye mean, Gabe," said the shamelessly direct Olly, "that she wasbashful, hevin' ran away with her bo."
That perplexity which wiser students of human nature than Gabriel haveexperienced at the swift perception of childhood in regard to certainthings left him speechless. He could only stare hopelessly at the littlefigure before him.
"Well, wot did _you_ do, Gabe? Go on!" said Olly, impatiently.
Gabriel drew a long breath.
"Thar bein' certing reasons why Gracy should be thet shy--reasonsconsarning propperty o' her deceased parients," boldly invented Gabriel,with a lofty ignoring of Olly's baser suggestion, "I reckoned that sheshould get the first word from _me_ and not from a stranger. I knowedshe warn't in Californy, or she'd hev seen them handbills I issued fiveyears ago. What did I do? Thar is a paper wot's printed in New York,called the _Herald_. Thar is a place in that thar paper whar they printnotisses to people that is fur, fur away. They is precious words fromfathers to their sons, from husbands to their wives, from brothers tosisters, ez can't find each other, from"----
"From sweethearts to thar bo's," said Olly, briskly; "I know."
Gabriel paused in speechless horror.
"Yes," continued Olly. "They calls 'em 'Personals.' Lord! I know all'b
out them. Gals get bo's by them, Gabe!"
Gabriel looked up at the bright, arching vault above him. Yet it did notdarken nor split into fragments. And he hesitated. Was it worth whileto go on? Was there anything he could tell this terrible child--his ownsister--which she did not already know better than he?
"I wrote one o' them Pursonals," he went on to say, doggedly, "in thisways." He paused, and fumbling in his waistcoat pocket, finally drew outa well-worn newspaper slip, and straightening it with some care from itsmultitudinous enfoldings, read it slowly, and with that peculiarpatronising self-consciousness which distinguishes the human animal inthe rehearsal of its literary composition.
"Ef G. C. will communicate with sufferin' and anxious friends, she will confer a favour on ole Gabe. I will come and see her, and Olly will rise up and welcome her. Ef G. C. is sick or don't want to come she will write to G. C. G. C. is same as usual, and so is Olly. All is well. Address G. C., One Horse Gulch, Californy--till further notiss."
"Read it over again," said Olly.
Gabriel did so, readily.
"Ain't it kinder mixed up with them G. C.'s?" queried the practicalOlly.
"Not for she," responded Gabriel, quickly, "that's just what July saidwhen I showed her the 'Pursonal.' But I sed to her as I sez to you, ittaint no puzzle to Gracy. _She_ knows ez our letters is the same. And efit 'pears queer to strangers, wots the odds? Thet's the idee ov a'pursonal.' Howsomever, it's all right, Olly. Fur," he continued,lowering his voice confidentially, and drawing is sister closer to hisside, "_it's bin ansered_!"
"By Grace?" asked Olly.
"No," said Gabriel, in some slight confusion, "not by Grace,exactly--that is--but yer's the anser." He drew from his bosom a smallchamois-skin purse, such as miners used for their loose gold, andextracted the more precious slip. "Read it," he said to Olly, turningaway his head.
Olly eagerly seized and read the paper.
"G. C.--Look no more for the missing one who will never return. Look at home. Be happy.--P. A."
Olly turned the slip over in her hands. "Is that all?" she asked, in ahigher key, with a rising indignation in her pink cheeks.
"That's all," responded Gabriel; "short and shy--that's Gracy, allover."
"Then all I got to say is it's mean!" said Olly, bringing her brown fistdown on her knee. "And that's wot I'd say to that thar P. A.--thatPhilip Ashley--if I met him."
A singular look, quite unlike the habitual placid, good-humouredexpression of the man, crossed Gabriel's face as he quietly reached outand took the paper from Olly's hand.
"Thet's why I'm goin' off," he said, simply.
"Goin' off," repeated Olly.
"Goin' off--to the States. To New York," he responded, "July and me.July sez--and she's a peart sort o' woman in her way, ef not o' yourkind, Olly," he interpolated, apologetically, "but pow'ful to argyfy andplan, and she allows ez New York 'ud nat'rally be the stampin' ground o'sich a high-toned feller ez him. And that's why I want to talk to ye,Olly. Thar's only two things ez 'ud ever part you and me, dear, and oneon 'em ez this very thing--it's my dooty to Gracy, and the other ez mydooty to you. Et ain't to be expected that when you oughter be gettin'your edykation you'd be cavortin' round the world with me. And you'llstop yer at Sacramento in a A-1 first-class school, ontil I come back.Are ye hark'nin', dear?"
"Yes," said Olly, fixing her clear eyes on her brother.
"And ye ain't to worrit about me. And it 'ud be as well, Olly, ez you'dforget all 'bout this yer gulch, and the folks. Fur yer to be a lady,and in bein' thet brother Gabe don't want ennythin' to cross ye. And Iwant to say to thet feller, Olly, 'Ye ain't to jedge this yer fammerlyby me, fur the men o' that fammerly gin'rally speakin' runs to size, andain't, so to speak, strong up yer,'" continued Gabriel, placing hishands on his sandy curls; "'but thar's a little lady in school inCaliforny ez is jest what Gracy would hev bin if she'd had theschoolin'. And ef ye wants to converse with her she kin give you pintsenny time' And then I brings you up, and nat'rally I reckon thet youain't goin' back on brother Gabe--in 'stronomy, grammar, 'rithmetic andthem things."
"But wot's the use of huntin' Grace if she says she'll never return?"said Olly, sharply.
"Ye musn't read them 'pursonals' ez ef they was square. They're kinderconundrums, ye know--puzzles. It says G. C. will never return. Well,s'pose G. C. has another name. Don't you see?"
"Married, maybe," said Olly, clapping her hands.
"Surely," said Gabriel, with a slight colour in his cheeks. "Thet's so."
"But s'pose it doesn't mean Grace after all?" persisted Olly.
Gabriel was for a moment staggered.
"But July sez it does," he answered, doubtfully.
Olly looked as if this evidence was not entirely satisfactory.
"But what does 'look at home' mean?" she continued.
"Thet's it," said Gabriel, eagerly. "Thet reads--'Look at littleOlly--ain't she there?' And thet's like Gracy--allus thinkin' o'somebody else."
"Well," said Olly, "I'll stop yer, and let you go. But wot are _you_goin' to do without me?"
Gabriel did not reply. The setting sun was so nearly level with his eyesthat it dazzled them, and he was fain to hide them among the clusteringcurls of Olly, as he held the girl's head in both his hands. After amoment he said--
"Do ye want to know why I like this old cabin and this yer chimbly,Olly?"
"Yes," said Olly, whose eyes were also affected by the sun, and who wasglad to turn them to the object indicated.
"It ain't because you and me hez sot there many and many a day, furthat's suthin' that we ain't goin' to think about any more. It'sbecause, Olly, the first lick I ever struck with a pick on this hill wasjust yer. And I raised this yer chimbly with the rock. Folks thinks thetit was over yonder in the slope whar I struck the silver lead, thet Ifirst druv a pick. But it warn't. And I sometimes think, Olly, that I'vehad as much square comfort outer thet first lick ez I'll ever get outerthe lead yonder. But come, Olly, come! July will be wonderin' whar youis, and ther's a stranger yonder comin' up the road, and I reckon Iain't ez fine a lookin' bo ez a young lady ez you ez, orter to co-mand.Never mind, Olly, he needn't know ez you and me is any relashuns. Come!"
In spite of Gabriel's precautionary haste, the stranger, who wasapproaching by the only trail which led over the rocky hillside,perceived the couple, and turned toward them interrogatively. Gabrielwas forced to stop, not, however, without first giving a slightreassuring pressure to Olly's hand.
"Can you tell me the way to the hotel--the Grand Conroy House I thinkthey call it?" the traveller asked politely.
He would have been at any time an awe-inspiring and aggressive object toOne Horse Gulch and to Gabriel, and at this particular moment he wasparticularly discomposing. He was elaborately dressed, buttoned andpatent-leather booted in the extreme limit of some bygone fashion, andhad the added effrontery of spotless ruffled linen. As he addressedGabriel he touched a tall black hat, sacred in that locality toclergymen and gamblers. To add to Gabriel's discomfiture, at the mentionof the Grand Conroy House he had felt Olly stiffen aggressively underhis hand.
"Foller this yer trail to the foot of the hill, and ye'll strike MainStreet; that'll fetch ye thar. I'd go with ye a piece, but I'mimployed," said Gabriel, with infinite tact and artfulness, accentingeach word with a pinch of Olly's arm, "imployed by this yer young lady'sfriends to see her home, and bein' a partikler sort o' fammerly, theymakes a row when I don't come reg'lar. Axin' your parding, don't they,Miss?" and to stop any possible retort from Olly before she couldrecover from her astonishment, he had hurried her into the shadows ofthe evergreen pines of Conroy Hill.