OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 17, 1916, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-01-17/ed-1/seq-19/

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venirs for Mollie. As the change for
a gold piece was handed to him by
the Indian girl he thrust it back, with
the words:
"I'll take one of your photographs
for that, young lady," and thrust the
card into his pocket with a adden
dum: "If you won't get jealous, Mol
lie." ' ,
Before daylight next morning Dan
was mounted on his horse, bound for
Tinker's creek. Mollie looked anx
ious and 'her father troubled, as with
his usual buoyancy Dan predicted his
speedy return.
"Look out for the Wenatchees,
Dan," warned the old man. "Word
has come that they are restless and
making war dances over beyond the
reservation. You know what that
means."
"I do," nodded Dan carelessly, "and
none of them will get me," and he
meaningly touched the belt that bore
two sturdy-looking seven-shooters.
It took Dan six days' hard travel
to cross the country to Tinker's
creek. To line this safely for some
thirty miles meant a safe arrival at
the point where the hidden hoard of
his dead partner had been buried.
The trouble was, however, for that
half of the stretch he was on reser
vation ground and further, as he
well knew, a strip where the most
mischievous and sanguinary section
of the tribe of Wenatchees made their
headquarters.
Dan had proceeded about ten miles
when, turning a great mass Of rocks,
he came directly into a nest of sav
ages. In a flash he realized that they
had been lying in wait for any unsus
pecting traveler who might come
along. They made a collective dash.
Under ordinary circumstances Dan
"would have remained quiescent and
bave let them deprive him of the
small stock of money he carried with
him. As one of the half-intoxicated
savages seized his foot and half pull
ed him 'from his horse, however, anl
another struck him with the butt of
a revolver, the fighting spirit was
aroused in the sturly miner.
Whack whack! his fist shot jout,
then seven shots of flame, and heed--ing
not who met the onslaught, Dan
drove through the shrieking mob and,
followed by a harmless fusillade,
made good his escape. t
Dan reached the end of his journey
withont further obstruction or delay.'
It was daylight when he came to the'
spot where his dead partner had hid-
den the golden results of six months;
grubbing over a placer field. Within
an hour Dan gloomily realized that
someone had anticipated him.
He had precisely located the bur
row under a flat stone where the gold
had rested. There was the outline of
the abstracted bag in the soft dirt
underneath, and one or two loose
nuggets. , ,
"Gone robbed!" gasped Dan, in
sheer stupefaction, and it took him
several hours to comprehend that to
search for the lost bundle would be
like looking for a needle 'in a hay
stack. If Dan had really secured the treas
ure he would have sought a new,
roundabout way of reaching home,
for he knew that the Indian crowd
he had outwitted would seek revenge.
Crushed by his loss, dejected, Dan
reckjessly retraced the river trail, to
get into new trouble.
He ran into his foes at an ambus
cade, and, one to ten, was overmas
tered. He fought hard, and was gen
erally mauled tip, taken captive and
hurried to a copse, where he was ar
raigned before a stern-faced chief of
the tribe. Dan had disabled three of
his assailants of the night previous,
it seemed, and revenge was demand
ed. It was while they were searching
him that a strange episodetranspired.
The chief was a morose, sullen fel
low, but he evinced interest as Dan's
possessions were removed from his
pockets. He gave a great start ahd
uttered a sharp cry as one of his
minions removed from Dan's pocket
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