Bob Hampton of Placer

  CHAPTER V

  A NEW PROPOSITION

  To one in the least inclined toward fastidiousness, the Miners' Home atGlencaid would scarcely appeal as a desirable place for long-continuedresidence. But such a one would have had small choice in the matter,as it chanced to be the only hotel there. The Miners' Home wasunquestionably unique as regards architectural details, having beenconstructed by sections, in accordance with the rapid development ofthe camp, and enjoyed the further distinction--there being only twoothers equally stylish in town--of being built of sawn plank, although,greatly to the regret of its unfortunate occupants, lack of seasoninghad resulted in wide cracks in both walls and stairway. These werenumerous, and occasionally proved perilous pitfalls to unwarytravellers through the ill-lighted hall, while strict privacy withinthe chambers was long ago a mere reminiscence. However, thesedeficiencies were to be discovered only after entering. Without, theMiners' Home put up a good front,--which along the border is consideredthe chief matter of importance,--and was in reality the mostpretentious structure gracing the single cluttered street of Glencaid.Indeed, it was pointed at with much civic pride by those citizens nevercompelled to exist within its yawning walls, and, with its ornament ofa wide commodious porch, appeared even palatial in comparison with thelog stable upon its left flank, or the dingy tent whose worm-eatencanvas flapped dejectedly upon the right. Directly across the street,its front a perfect blaze of glass, stood invitingly the Occidentalsaloon; but the Widow Guffy, who operated the Miners' Home with astrong hand, possessed an antipathy to strong liquor, whichsuccessfully kept all suspicion of intoxicating drink absent from thosesacredly guarded precincts, except as her transient guests imported itinternally, in the latter case she naturally remained quiescent, unlessthe offender became unduly boisterous. On such rare occasions Mrs.Guffy had always proved equal to the emergency, possessing Irishfacility with either tongue or club.

  Mr. Hampton during the course of his somewhat erratic career hadpreviously passed several eventful weeks in Glencaid. He was neitherunknown nor unappreciated at the Miners' Home, and having on previousoccasions established his reputation as a spender, experienced littledifficulty now in procuring promptly the very best accommodation whichthe house afforded. That this arrangement was accomplished somewhat tothe present discomfort of two vociferous Eastern tourists did notgreatly interfere with his pleasurable interest in the situation.

  "Send those two fellows in here to argue it out," he said, languidly,after listening disgustedly to their loud lamentations in the hallway,and addressing his remarks to Mrs. Guffy, who had glanced into the roomto be again assured regarding his comfort, and to express her deepregret over the unseemly racket. "The girl has fallen asleep, and I 'mgetting tired of hearing so much noise."

  "No, be hivings, an' ye don't do nuthin' of thet sort, Bob," returnedthe widow, good-naturedly, busying herself with a dust-rag. "This isme own house, an' Oi've tended ter the loikes of them sort er fellersafore. There'll be no more bother this toime. Besides, it's a pacefulhouse Oi'm runnin', an' Oi know ye'r way of sittling them things. It'stoo strenurous ye are, Misther Hampton. And what did ye do wid theyoung lady, Oi make bould to ask?"

  Hampton carelessly waved his hand toward the rear room, the door ofwhich stood ajar, and blew a thick cloud of smoke into the air, hiseyes continuing to gaze dreamily through the open window toward thedistant hills.

  "Who's running the game over at the Occidental?" he asked,professionally.

  "Red Slavin, bad cess to him!" and her eyes regarded her questionerwith renewed anxiety. "But sure now, Bob, ye mustn't think of playin'yit awhoile. Yer narves are in no fit shape, an' won't be fer a wakeyit."

  He made no direct reply, and she hung about, flapping the dust-raguneasily.

  "An' what did ye mane ter be doin' wid the young gyurl?" she questionedat last, in womanly curiosity.

  Hampton wheeled about on the hard chair, and regarded her quizzingly."Mrs. Guffy," he said, slowly, "you've been a mother to me, and itwould certainly be unkind not to give you a straight tip. Do? Why,take care of her, of course. What else would you expect of onepossessing my kindly disposition and well-known motives ofphilanthropy? Can it be that I have resided with you, off and on, forten years past without your ever realizing the fond yearnings of myheart? Mrs. Guffy, I shall make her the heiress to my millions; Ishall marry her off to some Eastern nabob, and thus attain to that highposition in society I am so well fitted to adorn--sure, and what elsewere you expecting, Mrs. Guffy?"

  "A loikely story," with a sniff of disbelief. "They tell me she 's oldGillis's daughter over to Bethune."

  "They tell you, do they?" a sudden gleam of anger darkening his grayeyes. "Who tell you?"

  "Sure, Bob, an' thet 's nuthin' ter git mad about, so fur as I kin see.The story is in iverybody's mouth. It wus thim sojers what brought yein thet tould most ov it, but the lieutenant,--Brant of the SeventhCavalry, no less,--who took dinner here afore he wint back after thedead bodies, give me her name."

  "Brant of the Seventh?" He faced her fairly now, his face againhaggard and gray, all the slight gleam of fun gone out of it. "Wasthat the lad's name?"

  "Sure, and didn't ye know him?"

  "No; I noticed the '7' on his hat, of course, but never asked anyquestions, for his face was strange. I didn't know. The name, whenyou just spoke it, struck me rather queer. I--I used to know a Brantin the Seventh, but he was much older; it was not this man."

  She answered something, lingering for a moment at the door, but he madeno response, and she passed out silently, leaving him staring moodilythrough the open window, his eyes appearing glazed and sightless.

  Glencaid, like most mining towns of its class, was dull and dead enoughduring the hours of daylight. It was not until after darkness fellthat it awoke from its somnolence, when the scattered miners cameswarming down from out the surrounding hills and turned into a noisy,restless playground the single narrow, irregular street. Then itsuddenly became a mad commixture of Babel and hell. At this hournothing living moved within range of the watcher's vision except avagrant dog; the heat haze hung along the near-by slopes, while alittle spiral of dust rose lazily from the deserted road. But Hamptonhad no eyes for this dreary prospect; with contracted brows he wasviewing again that which he had confidently believed to have beenburied long ago. Finally, he stepped quickly across the little room,and, standing quietly within the open doorway, looked long at the younggirl upon the bed. She lay in sound, motionless sleep, one handbeneath her cheek, her heavy hair, scarcely revealing its auburn hue inthe gloom of the interior, flowing in wild disorder across the crushedpillow. He stepped to the single window and drew down the green shade,gazed at her again, a new look of tenderness softening his stern face,then went softly out and closed the door.

  An hour later he was still sitting on the hard chair by the window, acigar between his teeth, thinking. The lowering sun was pouring aperfect flood of gold across the rag carpet, but he remained utterlyunconscious as to aught save the gloomy trend of his own awakenedmemories. Some one rapped upon the outer door.

  "Come in," he exclaimed, carelessly, and barely glancing up. "Well,what is it this time, Mrs. Guffy?"

  The landlady had never before seen this usually happy guest in hispresent mood, and she watched him curiously.

  "A man wants ter see ye," she announced, shortly, her hand on the knob.

  "Oh, I'm in no shape for play to-night; go back and tell him so."

  "Sure, an' it's aisy 'nough ter see thet wid half an eye. But this unisn't thet koind of a man, an' he's so moighty perlite about it Oi jistcud n't sind the loikes of him away. It's 'Missus Guffy, me dearmadam, wud ye be koind enough to convey me complimints to MistherRobert Hampton, and requist him to grant me a few minutes of his toimeon an important matter?' Sure, an' what do ye think of thet?"

  "Huh! one of those fellows who had these rooms?" and Hampton rose tohis feet with animation.

  The landlady lowered her voic
e to an almost inaudible whisper.

  "It's the Reverend Howard Wynkoop," she announced, impressively,dwelling upon the name. "The Reverend Howard Wynkoop, the PrasbytarianMissionary--wouldn't thet cork ye?"

  It evidently did, for Mr. Hampton stared at her for fully a minute inan amazement too profound for fit expression in words. Then heswallowed something in his throat.

  "Show the gentleman up," he said, shortly, and sat down to wait.

  The Rev. Howard Wynkoop was neither giant nor dwarf, but the veryfortunate possessor of a countenance which at once awakened confidencein his character. He entered the room quietly, rather dreading thisinterview with one of Mr. Hampton's well-known proclivities, yet inthis case feeling abundantly fortified in the righteousness of hiscause. His brown eyes met the inquisitive gray ones frankly, andHampton waved him silently toward a vacant chair.

  "Our lines of labor in this vineyard being so entirely opposite," thelatter said, coldly, but with intended politeness, "the honor of yourunexpected call quite overwhelms me. I shall have to trouble you tospeak somewhat softly in explanation of your present mission, so as notto disturb a young girl who chances to be sleeping in the room beyond."

  Wynkoop cleared his throat uneasily, his naturally pale cheeks flushed.

  "It was principally upon her account I ventured to call," he explainedin sudden confidence. "Might I see her?"

  Hampton's watchful eyes swept the others face suspiciously, and hishands clinched.

  "Relative?" he asked gravely.

  The preacher shook his head.

  "Friend of the family, perhaps?"

  "No, Mr. Hampton. My purpose in coming here is perfectly proper, yetthe request was not advanced as a right, but merely as a specialprivilege."

  A moment Hampton hesitated; then he arose and quietly crossed the room,holding open the door. Without a word being spoken the ministerfollowed, and stood beside him. For several minutes the eyes of bothmen rested upon the girl's sleeping form and upturned face. ThenWynkoop drew silently back, and Hampton closed the door noiselessly.

  "Well," he said, inquiringly, "what does all this mean?"

  The minister hesitated as if doubtful how best to explain the nature ofhis rather embarrassing mission, his gaze upon the strong face of theman fronting him so sternly.

  "Let us sit down again," he said at last, "and I will try to make mypurpose sufficiently clear. I am not here to mince words, nor do Ibelieve you to be the kind of a man who would respect me if I did. Imay say something that will not sound pleasant, but in the cause of myMaster I cannot hesitate. You are an older man than I, Mr. Hampton;your experience in life has doubtless been much broader than mine, andit may even be that in point of education you are likewise my superior.Nevertheless, as the only minister of the Gospel residing in thiscommunity it is beyond question my plain duty to speak a few words toyou in behalf of this young lady, and her probable future. I trust notto be offensive, yet cannot shirk the requirements of my sacred office."

  The speaker paused, somewhat disconcerted perhaps by the hardening ofthe lines in Hampton's face.

  "Go on," commanded Hampton, tersely, "only let the preacher part slide,and say just what you have to say as man to man."

  Wynkoop stiffened perceptibly in his chair, his face paling somewhat,but his eyes unwavering. Realizing the reckless nature before him, hewas one whom opposition merely inspired.

  "I prefer to do so," he continued, more calmly. "It will render myunpleasant task much easier, and yield us both a more direct road fortravel. I have been laboring on this field for nearly three years.When I first came here you were pointed out to me as a most dangerousman, and ever since then I have constantly been regaled by the storiesof your exploits. I have known you merely through such unfriendlyreports, and came here strongly prejudiced against you as arepresentative of every evil I war against. We have never met before,because there seemed to be nothing in common between us; because I hadbeen led to suppose you to be an entirely different man from what I nowbelieve you are."

  Hampton stirred uneasily in his chair.

  "Shall I paint in exceedingly plain words the picture given me of you?"

  There was no response, but the speaker moistened his lips and proceededfirmly. "It was that of a professional gambler, utterly devoid ofmercy toward his victims; a reckless fighter, who shot to kill upon theleast provocation; a man without moral character, and from whom anygood action was impossible. That was what was said about you. Is thetale true?"

  Hampton laughed unpleasantly, his eyes grown hard and ugly.

  "I presume it must be," he admitted, with a quick side glance towardthe closed door, "for the girl out yonder thought about the same. Amost excellent reputation to establish with only ten years of strictattendance to business."

  Wynkoop's grave face expressed his disapproval.

  "Well, in my present judgment that report was not altogether true," hewent on clearly and with greater confidence. "I did suppose youexactly that sort of a man when I first came into this room. I havenot believed so, however, for a single moment since. Nevertheless, thenaked truth is certainly bad enough, without any necessity for ourresorting to romance. You may deceive others by an assumption ofrecklessness, but I feel convinced your true nature is not evil. Ithas been warped through some cause which is none of my business. Letus deal alone with facts. You are a gambler, a professional gambler,with all that that implies; your life is, of necessity, passed amongthe most vicious and degrading elements of mining camps, and you do nothesitate even to take human life when in your judgment it seemsnecessary to preserve your own. Under this veneer of lawlessness youmay, indeed, possess a warm heart, Mr. Hampton; you may be a goodfellow, but you are certainly not a model character, even according tothe liberal code of the border."

  "Extremely kind of you to enter my rooms uninvited, and furnish me withthis list of moral deficiencies," acknowledged the other with affectedcarelessness. "But thus far you have failed to tell me anythingstrikingly new. Am I to understand you have some particular object inthis exchange of amenities?"

  "Most assuredly. It is to ask if such a person as you practicallyconfess yourself to be--homeless, associating only with the mostdespicable and vicious characters, and leading so uncertain anddisreputable a life--can be fit to assume charge of a girl, almost awoman, and mould her future?"

  For a long, breathless moment Hampton stared incredulously at hisquestioner, crushing his cigar between his teeth. Twice he started tospeak, but literally choked back the bitter words burning his lips,while an uncontrollable admiration for the other's boldness began toovercome his first fierce anger.

  "By God!" he exclaimed at last, rising to his feet and pointing towardthe door. "I have shot men for less. Go, before I forget your cloth.You little impudent fool! See here--I saved that girl from death, orworse; I plucked her from the very mouth of hell; I like her; she 'sgot sand; so far as I know there is not a single soul for her to turnto for help in all this wide world. And you, you miserable, snivellinghypocrite, you little creeping Presbyterian parson, you want me toshake her! What sort of a wild beast do you suppose I am?"

  Wynkoop had taken one hasty step backward, impelled to it by the fierceanger blazing from those stern gray eyes. But now he paused, and, forthe only time on record, discovered the conventional language of politesociety inadequate to express his needs.

  "I think," he said, scarcely realizing his own words, "you are a damnedfool."

  Into Hampton's eyes there leaped a light upon which other men hadlooked before they died,--the strange mad gleam one sometimes sees infighting animals, or amid the fierce charges of war. His hand sweptinstinctively backward, closing upon the butt of a revolver beneath hiscoat, and for one second he who had dared such utterance looked ondeath. Then the hard lines about the man's mouth softened, the fingersclutching the weapon relaxed, and Hampton laid one opened hand upon theminister's shrinking shoulder.

  "Sit down," he said, his voice unste
ady from so sudden a reaction."Perhaps--perhaps I don't exactly understand."

  For a full minute they sat thus looking at each other through the fastdimming light, like two prize-fighters meeting for the first timewithin the ring, and taking mental stock before beginning theirphysical argument. Hampton, with a touch of his old audacity ofmanner, was first to break the silence.

  "So you think I am a damned fool. Well, we are in pretty fair accordas to that fact, although no one before has ever ventured to state itquite so clearly in my presence. Perhaps you will kindly explain?"

  The preacher wet his dry lips with his tongue, forgetting himself whenhis thoughts began to crystallize into expression.

  "I regret having spoken as I did," he began. "Such language is not mycustom. I was irritated because of your haste in rejecting my advancesbefore hearing the proposition I came to submit. I certainly respectyour evident desire to be of assistance to this young woman, nor have Ithe slightest intention of interfering between you. Your act inpreserving her life was a truly noble one, and your loyalty to herinterests since is worthy of all Christian praise. But I believe Ihave a right to ask, what do you intend for the future? Keep her withyou? Drag her about from camp to camp? Educate her among thecontaminating poison of gambling-holes and dance-halls? Is her homehereafter to be the saloon and the rough frontier hotel? her ideal ofmanhood the quarrelsome gambler, and of womanhood a painted harlot?Mr. Hampton, you are evidently a man of education, of early refinement;you have known better things; and I have come to you seeking merely toaid you in deciding this helpless young woman's destiny. I thought, Iprayed, you would be at once interested in that purpose, and wouldcomprehend the reasonableness of my position."

  Hampton sat silent, gazing out of the window, his eyes apparently onthe lights now becoming dimly visible in the saloon opposite. For aconsiderable time he made no move, and the other straightened back inhis chair watching him.

  "Well!" he ventured at last, "what is your proposition?" The questionwas quietly asked, but a slight tremor in the low voice told ofrepressed feeling.

  "That, for the present at least, you confide this girl into the care ofsome worthy woman."

  "Have you any such in mind?"

  "I have already discussed the matter briefly with Mrs. Herndon, wife ofthe superintendent of the Golden Rule mines. She is a refinedChristian lady, beyond doubt the most proper person to assume such acharge in this camp. There is very little in such a place as this tointerest a woman of her capabilities, and I believe she would bedelighted to have such an opportunity for doing good. She has nochildren of her own."

  Hampton flung his sodden cigar butt out of the window. "I'll talk itover to-morrow with--with Miss Gillis," he said, somewhat gruffly. "Itmay be this means a good deal more to me than you suppose, parson, butI 'm bound to acknowledge there is considerable hard sense in what youhave just said, and I 'll talk it over with the girl."

  Wynkoop held out his hand cordially, and the firm grasp of the otherclosed over his fingers.

  "I don't exactly know why I didn't kick you downstairs," the lattercommented, as though still in wonder at himself. "Never remember beingquite so considerate before, but I reckon you must have come at me inabout the right way."

  If Wynkoop answered, his words were indistinguishable, but Hamptonremained standing in the open door watching the missionary go down thenarrow stairs.

  "Nervy little devil," he acknowledged slowly to himself. "And maybe,after all, that would be the best thing for the Kid."