XVIII
ANOTHER STRANGER ARRIVES
If the history of Little Rivers were to be written in chapter headingsthe first would be, "Jasper Ewold Founded the Town"; the second, "JackWingfield Arrived"; and the third, "John Prather Arrived."
While Jack came in chaps and spurs, bearing an argosy of fancy, Prathercame by rail, carrying a suitcase in a conventional and businesslikefashion. Bill Deering, as the representative of a spring wagon that didthe local omnibus and express business, was on the platform of thestation when the 11:15 rolled in, and sang out, in a burst of joy, as thestranger, a man in the early twenties, stepped off the Pullman:
"What's this, Jack? Back by train--and in store clothes? Well, ofall--" and saw his mistake when the stranger's full face was turnedtoward him.
"Yes, I am sometimes called Jack," said the stranger pleasantly. "Now,where have we met before? Perhaps in Goldfield? No matter. It is time wegot acquainted. My name is Prather, and yours?"
As he surveyed the man before him, Bill was as fussed as the giant of thefairy story had been by a display of yellow. He was uncertain whether hewas giving his own baptismal name or somebody's else.
"By Jing! No, I don't know you, but you sure are the dead spit of afellow I do know!" said Bill.
"Well, he has done me the favor of introducing me to you, anyway," saidPrather, who had a remarkably ingratiating smile. "I would like a placeto stop while I take a look around. Is there a hotel?"
"Rooms over the store and grub at Mrs. Smith's--none better!"
"That will do."
As they rode into town more than one passer-by called out a ringing"Hello, Jack!" or, "Back, eh, Jack? Hurrah for you!" and then uttered anexclamation of disillusion when Prather turned his head.
"The others see it, too," said Bill.
"They seem to. Who is this double of mine?"
"Jack Wingfield."
"Jack Wingfield? It seems that our first names are the same, too. Helives here, I take it."
"Yes. But he's away now."
"Well, when he comes back"--with a pause of slight irritation--"therewill be no difficulty in telling us apart."
He put his finger to a triangular patch of mole on his cheek. Hisirritation passed and a sense of appreciative amusement at thedistinction took its place.
"Now, where shall I find Jasper Ewold?" he asked, as Bill drew up beforethe Smiths.
A few minutes later the Doge, busy among his orange-trees, hearing astep, looked up with a signal of recognition which changed to blankinquiry when the cheek with the mole was turned toward him.
"Upon my word, sir, I--I thought that you were--" he began.
"Mr. Wingfield! Yes, everybody in town seems to think so at first glance,so I am quite used to the comparison by this time," Prather put in,easily. "It is very interesting to meet the founder of a town, and Ihave come to you to find out about conditions here."
Prather did not appear as if he had ever done manual labor. He was tooyoung to have turned from ill health or failure in the city to the refugeof the land. Indeed, his quiet gray suit of good material indicatedunostentatious prosperity. Evidently he was well-bred and evidently hewas not an agent for a new style of seeding harrow or weed killer.
"You think of settling?" asked the Doge.
"Yes. From all I have heard of Little Rivers, it's a community where Ishould feel at home."
"Then, sir, we will talk of it at luncheon; it is knocking-off time forthe morning. Yes, I'll talk as much as you please. Come on, Mr. Prather!"They started along the avenue of palms, the Doge still studying the faceat his side. "Pardon me for staring at you, but the resemblance to JackWingfield at first sight is most striking," he added.
"Has he travelled much in the West?" asked Prather.
"Yes, much--leading an aimless life."
"Then he must be the one that I was taken for in Salt Lake City one day.The man who called out to me saw his mistake, just as you did, when hesaw my full face;" and again Prather made a gesture of understandingamusement to the mole.
"When you consider what confusion there must be in the workrooms, withthe storks flapping and screeching like newsboys outside the deliveryroom," mused the Doge, "and when you consider the multitudinouspopulation of the earth, it's surprising that the good Lord is able tofurnish such a variety of faces as he does. But they do say that everyone of us has a few doubles. In the case of famous public men they gettheir pictures in the papers."
"Yes, very few of us but have been mistaken for a friend by a strangerpassing in the street!" Prather suggested.
"Only to have the stranger see his mistake at a second glance; and onsecond glance you do not look very much like Jack Wingfield," the Dogeconcluded. "Just a coincidence in physiognomy!"
And Prather was very frank about his past.
"I have led rather a hard life," he said. "Though I was well brought upmy father left mother and me quite penniless. I had to fend for myself atthe age of sixteen. A friend gave me an opportunity to go to Goldfield atthe outbreak of the excitement there. The rough experience of amining-camp was not exactly to my taste, but it meant a livelihood. Myreal interest has always been in irrigation farming. I would rather growa good crop than mine for gold. Well, I saved a little money atGoldfield--saved it to buy land. But land is not the only consideration.The surroundings, the people with whom you have to live count for a greatdeal when you mean to settle permanently."
"Excellent!" declared the Doge. "A good citizen in full fellowship withyour neighbors! Exactly what we want in Little Rivers."
Prather had a complexion of that velvety whiteness that never tans.His eyes were calm, yet attractive, with a peculiar insinuating charmwhen he talked that made it seem easy and natural to respond to hiswishes. In listening he had an ingratiating manner that wasflattering to the speaker.
"A practical man!" the Doge said to Mary that evening. "The kind we needhere. He and I had a grand afternoon of it together. Every one of hisquestions about soils and cultivation was to the point."
"Not one argument?" she asked.
"No, Mary; no time for argument."
"You do like people to agree with you, after all!" she hazarded. For shedid not like Prather.
"Pooh! Not a matter of agreement! No persiflage! No altitudinousconversation of the kind that grows no crops. Prather wants to learn, andhe's got good, clean ideas, with a trained and accurate mind--the bestpossible combination. I hope he will stay for the very reason that he isnot the kind that takes up a plot of land for life on an impulse, whichusually results in turning on the water and getting discouraged becausenature will not do the rest. But he is very favorably impressed. He saidthat after Goldfield Little Rivers was like Paradise--practical Paradise.Good phrase, practical Paradise!"
In two or three days the new-comer knew everyone in town; but though headdressed the men by their first names they always addressed him as "Mr.Prather." In another respect besides his features he was like Jack: hewas much given to smiling.
"The difference between his smile and Jack's," said Mrs. Galway, who wasat one with Mary in not liking him, "is that his is sort of a drawing-inkind of smile and Jack's sort of radiates."
The children developed no interest in him. It was evident that he couldnot tell stories, except with an effort. In his goings and comings, everasking pleasant questions and passing compliments, he was usuallyaccompanied by the Doge, and his attitude toward the old man was theadmiring deference of disciple for master.
"I am sorry I don't understand that," he would say when the Doge fellinto a scholastic allusion to explain a point. "I was hard at work whenlots of my friends were in college."
"Learning may be ruination," responded the Doge, "though it wouldn't havebeen in your case. It's the man that counts. See what you have made ofyourself!"
"Ah, yes, but I feel that I have missed something. When I am settled hereI shall be able to make up for lost time, with your help, sir."
"Every pigeonhole in my mind will be open at you
r call!" said the Doge,glowing at the prospect.
The favor that Prather found in the eyes of Jasper Ewold partly accountedfor what favor he found in Little Rivers' eyes.
"Prather has certainly made a hit with the Doge!" quoth Bob Worther."As the Doge gets older I reckon he will like compliments better thanpersiflage. But Jack could pay a compliment, too--only he never usedthe ladle."
It was Bob, as inspector of ditches and dams, who provided a horse forPrather to inspect the source of the water supply. In keeping with acharacteristic thoroughness, Prather wanted to go up the river into thecanyon. He made himself a very enjoyable companion on the way, drawingout all of Bob's best stories. When they stopped in sight of the streakof blue sky through the breach in the mighty wall that had onceimprisoned the ancient lake, he was silent for some time, while hesurveyed this grandeur of the heights with smiling contemplation, atintervals rubbing the palms of his hands together in a manner habitualwith him when he was particularly pleased.
"I guess the same idea has struck you that strikes everybody at sight ofthat, seh!" said Bob.
"Yes, a dam might be practical," Prather answered. "But it would take alot of capital--a lot of capital!"
On the way back they stopped before a dilapidated shanty near thefoothills. In the midst of a littered yard old man Lefferts, half dozing,occupied a broken chair.
"Since the Doge came old man Lefferts has had to do no work at all. AMexican looks after him. But it hasn't made him any happier," Bobexplained as they approached.
"Howdy yourself?" growled Lefferts in answer to Bob's greeting.
"He seems to be a character!" whispered Prather to Bob, as he smiled atthe prospect. "To confess the truth, I am a little saddle sore and tired.I didn't get much riding in Goldfield. I think I'll stop and rest and getacquainted."
"You won't get much satisfaction but growls."
"That will be all the more fun for me," rejoined Prather. "But don't letme keep you."
"No. I must be going on. I've got some things to look after beforenightfall," said Bob, while Prather, in a humor proof against any hermitcantankerousness, rode into the yard.
When he returned after dark he said, laughingly, that he had enjoyedhimself, though the conversation was all on one side. The next morning hedecided to take up the plot of land adjoining Jack's.
"But I shall not be able to begin work for a few weeks," he said. "I mustgo to Goldfield to settle up my affairs before I begin my new career."
"If Jack ever comes back I wonder what he will say to his new neighbor!"Little Rivers wondered.