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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 29, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 20',
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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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was another human being approach
He looked out to see a man walk
ing across the sand and alkali. At
once a fear came over him. This man
was coming to rob him of his cher
ished gold. ""
Furtive as a fox, he crept along
the gulch, out of sight of his son,
whom he had not recognized. Over
his shoulder he carried the sack full
of his precious stones. He knew
that, once clear of the gulch bed, he
could make his way among the
mountains and be well on his way
homeward before the newcomer had
come upon the place where he had
He chuckled as he strode manfully
across the plain, oblivious of the
burning sun. He covered mile after
mile, borne up by the knowledge that
fortune, which he had evaded so
long, lay hidden in that bag. And
thus he staggered into the cabin late
at night, an hour before Edwin's re
turn. "I found his tracks,'1 cried Edwin,
at the door. "But he's gone he's
"No, he's here," answered his wife
sourly. "He played a fine trick on
us, Edwin. He's in his bunk, asleep.
In the morning I'm going to send him
back by train."
The return of the old man, bab
bling about gold, had awakened all
her resentment Her husband saw
that it would be useless to argue with
her. But in the morning Bessie's an
ger was unchanged. They found old
Jim seated with his back at the
kitchen table. He was taking stones
out of it and arranging them along
"Well, children," he began, "I reck
on the old man fooled the pair of ye.
There'll be no more drudging now, if
I know the value of what I've struck
in the hills. Look at them stones!"
He held one up to Ross and indi
cated the tiny yellow flecks among
"It ain't much' lie said, "but wait
till we get our stamps up here. That'll
assay two ounces to the ton."
"This is too much," cried Bessie.
"Now, listen, old man! I've had
enough of this talk of gold!"
Old Jim pulled another stone out
of the bag and looked at it with
twinkling eyes. It was a yellow stone,
pure yellow, dull, rich, and unmis
takable, and at least as large as a
pigeon's egg. .
"Maybe this wouldn't make ye a
bracelet, honey," he said, holding it
up before her. "Nor this," he added,
pulling out another. He shook out a
dozen more from the bottom of the
"Why it is gold!" shouted Ed
win. "If it ain't," said Jim, "I never
prospected for it. The gulch is full
of nuggets, enough to buy our ma
chinery for stamping when the allu
vial's ended. We're rich, children,
and we'll go back to Kansas City, and
Bessie '11 have fifty new gowns, and
a house and lot, and an I guess
111 be the king of the poorhouse."
"Father!" sobbed Bessie, kneel
ing beside him. "It's your's. Take
it all. We deserve none of it after the
"way we treated you."
"Why, that's all right, honey," said
the old man, looking at her in mild
surprise. "I ain't had nothing to
complain of. It was the work, I
reckon, sort of put an edge on you.
You see, children, a good woman's
like gold she's there, somewhere,
only sometimes she takes sort of
sort of looking for."
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
IS THE DOC TRYING TO START
"The wild men of Borneo are not
wild at all," says old Doc Cook of
North Pole fame who has recently ar
rived in New York. In proof of his '
assertion the doc adds: "Their only
wild traits are headhunting and poly
gamy we had a lovely visit" Noth
ing wild about headhunting bt
- Jt m tm .A