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Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, January 13, 1887, Image 1

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Helena, Montana, Thursday, January 13, 1887.
R. E. FISK D. W. FISK. ». J. FISK,
Publishers aa<l Proprietor«.
Lar^eft Circulation of any Paperin Ifontana
Rates of Subscription.
One Year. (In ntlvanee)........................... -W 00
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Three Months, (in advance).......................... i 00
When not paid for in advance the ra'e will be
Four Dollars per yeaii
Postage, in all cases, Prepaio.
City Subscribers,delivered by carrier f 1.00a month
One Year, by mail, (in advance)................. fR 00
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WA11 communications should be addressed to
KLSK BROS., Publisher),
Helena, Montana.
Blessing «lie is; God made her so.
And deeds of week-day holiness
Pali from her noisless as the snow.
Nor had she ever chanced to know
That aught was easier than to bless.
She is most fair, and thereunto
Her life doth rightly harmonize;
Keeling or thought tliHt was not true
Ve er made less beautiful the blue
Unclouded heaven of her eyes.
•»he is a woman ; one in whom
The spring tune of lier childish years
Hath never lost its fresh perfume,
Though knowing well that liic batli room
For many Mights and many tears.
I've tieen round this country from Texas to
And mostly with nary a red ;
I've walked it for miles in the wettest of rain.
And slept on a bot»rd for a lied.
But I've learnt a few comfortin' facts by the
While living this queer life of mine.
And the principal one'of the lot, let me say,
Is "it's better to whistle than whine."
I knew hat the winter's a cornin' on fast,
I'm aware that a home I ain't got ;
1 see the clothes Pin wearin' won't last
Till I reach a more torrider spot.
But nobody yet has lias discovered in me
Anxiety's tiniest sign ;
And its jest'cauM? 1 learnt in my youth, don't
you sec.
That "it's better to whistle than whine."
It strikes me somehow that it's mighty durn
That fellers much wiser than me
Keep kickin' t>ccause this terrestrial sphere
Ain't jest what they want it to tie.
Their parents have tilled them with Latin, and
But their logic ain't up to mine,
< T else they would know every day in the week.
That "it's better to w histle than whine."
IVhen the v. inds are w ailing with a weird and dis
mal wail
And the flimsy flakes are flying on the pinions of
the gale.
When the fierce Atlantic billows, with a sullen,
angry roar.
Rush up the sandy beach and dash against the
rock-bound shore,
When from the Folar regions comes the frost king
in his might,
When we hear the storm fiends shrieking through
the tenebrific night,
When for Christ mas geese and turkeys local states
men shake the dice,
And in suburban (Kinds men fish for pickerel
through the ice,
When of smoking buckwheat pancakes men can
scarcely get enough,
I, i' then the gentle maiden wants a sealskin
sacque and muff.
He came to the sanctum one night.
The place where the editors wi ightl
He was hungry, he said.
And be w anted some bread.
Would be glad to get even a bight.
lie bad served in a cavalry corps
In the war for the Uniorv he sworps;
Rode a charger milk troite,
Was the first in each fite.
And slaughtered his foes by the scorps.
But to Lis appeals for a pension
Tbo government paid no attension;
He was old and rheumatic
And half paralytic.
And Lis woes were too numerous to mension.
His case w as a Lard one, no doubt,
ijo some of the boys went aboubt
And raised him a sum
That for some time to cum
Would keep him, and then he went oubt.
When he in the court was arraigned
L Next morning, the cause was explaigned.
He bad w asted the sum
That we gave him in rum—
He has since at the island remaigned
—Boston Courier.
I do not care
If I may never climb the heights of fame,
If I may never win a glorious name
Nor hear, with well pleased ears, the world's
I do not care.
I should not care
Though all obscure and lowly be my lot,
Though men pass idly by and know me not,
Though I should die and straightway be forgot,
1 should not care.
I would not care
Though all the world should shun the path I tread,
Though w ords of shame and scorn of me were
Why, v hen the grasses waved above my head,
1 would not care,
I would not care a cent
Were I a pious hermit, most austere,
I-iving, in lowly hermitage severe,
On thirty thou.-and dollars, say, a year.
1 would not care.
There's the maid who says she will,
And the maid who 6ays she won't.
But they Loth get mad alike,
If you don't.
There's the man who says, "No! No!
Ami tlie man who says, "Well— ye .1"
Do they l>oth imbibe alike?
Well, I guess!
This old world'« a funny place,
And it's full of funny folks.
They will keep you in a roar
With their jokes.
They w ill say all sorts of things ^
with ft countenance serene— ■
But they do not always say
What they mean.
So, then, do not be misled ,
By such hypocrites as these.
Hear them out—and then believe
What you please l
—Somerville JournaL
\ I
[Copyrighted. 1RS«, by IToughton, Mifflin ,t Co., at«!
published by arrangement with them.]
HERE was presid
ent neighing on the
summit. Concho's
horse wanted Lis
This protestation
reached the ears of
a party ascending
the mountain from
its western face. To
one of the party it
was familiar.
• Why, blank it
nil. that's Chiquita.
That d- Mexican's lying drunk some
where," said the president of the B. M. Co.
"I don't like the look obtins at all," said
Dr. Guild, as they rode up beside the indig
nant animal. "If it had been an American, it
might have been carelessness, but no Mexican
ever forgets his beast. Drive ahead, boys;
we may lie too late."
in half an Lour they came in sight of the
ledge below, the crumbled furnace, and the
motionless figure of Concho, wrapped in a
blanket, lying prone in the sunlight.
"I told you so—drunk!" said the president.
The doctor looked grave, but did not speak.
They dismounted and picketed their horses.
Then crept on all fours to the ledge above the
furnace. There was a cry from Secretary
Gibbs. "Look yer. Some fellar has been
jumping us, boys. See these notices."
There were two notices on canvas affixed
to the rock, claiming the ground, and signed
by Pedro, Manuel, Miguel, Wiles and Ros
"This was done, doctor, w hile your trust
worthy Greaser locater—d-n him—lay
there drunk. What's to be done, now?"
But the doctor was making his way to tho
untort unate cause of their defeat, lying there
quite mute to their reproaches. The others
followed him.
The doctor knelt beside Concho, unrolled
him, placed his hand upon his wrist, his ear
over his heart, and then said:
"Of course. He got medicine of you last
night. This comes of your d-d heroic
But the doctor was too much occupied to
heed the speaker's raillery. He had peered
into Concho's protulierant eye, opened his
mouth, and gazed at the swollen tongue, and
then suddenly rose to his feet.
"Tear down those notices, boys, but keep
them. Put up your own. Don't be alarmed ;
you will not lie interfered with, for here is
murder added to robbery."
"Yes," said the doctor, excitedly, "1 11 take
my oath on any inquest that this man was
strangled to death. He was surprised while
asleep. Look here. " He pointed to the revolver
still in Concho's stiffening hand, which tho
murdered man had instantly cocked, but could
not use in the struggle.
"That's so," said the president; "no man
goes to sleep with a cocked revolver. What's
to be done?"
"Everything," said the doctor. "This deed
was committed within the last two hours; the
body is still wann. The murderer did not
come our w ay, or we should have met him on
the trail. He is, if anywhere, between here
and Très Pinos."
"Gentlemen," said the president, with a
slight preparatory and half judicial cough,
"two of you will stay here and stick! The
others will follow me to Très Pinos. The law
has boon outraged. You understand the
By some odd influence the little group of
half-cynical, half-trifling and wholly reckless
men had become suddenly sober, earnest citi
zens. They said: "Go on," nodded their
heads, and betook themselves to their horses.
"Had we not better wait for the inquest and
swear out a warrant?" said the secretary,
"How many men have we?"
HE time was noon
at Très Pinos. The
three pines from
which it gained its
name, in tho dusty
road and hot air,
seemed to smoke
from their balsamic
spires. There was a
glare from the road,
• j__ - - a glare from the
sky, a glare from
tho rocks, a glare
F -
from the white canvas roofs of the few
shanties and cabins which ifiado up the
village. There was even a glare from the
unpointed redwood boards of Roscommon's
grocery and tavern, and a tendency of the
warping floor of the veranda to curl up be
neath the feet of the intruder. A few mules,
near the watering trough, had shrunk within
the scant shadow of the corraL
"Then tee don't wakt no d—d warrant.''
The grocery business of Mr. Roscommon,
although adequate and sufficient u>r me vil
lage, was not exhausting or overtaxing to the
proprietor. The refilling of the pork and flour
liarrel of the average miner was the work of
a brief hour on Saturday nights, but the daily
replenishment of the average miner with w bis
| ky was arduous and incessant. Roscommon
j spent more time behind his bar than his gro
cer's counter. Add to this the fact that a long
! shed-like extension or wing bore the legend,
"Cosmopolitan Hotel, Board or Lodging by
the Day or Week. M. Roscommon," and you
got an idea of tho variety of the proprietor's
functions. Tho "hotel," however, was more
directly under tho charge of Mrs. Roscom
mon, a lady of thirty years, strong, truculent
and good-hearted.
Mr. Roscommon had early adopted the
theory that most of his customers were in
sane, and were to be alternately bullied or
placated, as tho case might be. Nothing that
occurred, no extravagance of speech nor act,
ever ruffled his equilibrium, which was ns
dogged ami stubborn as it was outwardly
calm. "When not serving liquor, or in the in
terval while it was lieing drank, lie was al
ways wiping his counter with an exceedingly
dirty towel—or indeed anything that came
handy. Miners, noticing this purely perfunc
tory habit, occasionally supplied him slily
with articles inconsistent with their service
—fragments of their shirts anil underclothing,
flour sacking, tow, and once with a flannel
petticoat of his wife's stolen from tho
line in the back yard. Roscommon would
continue his wiping without looking up, but
yet consci ous of the presence of each customer.
"And it's not another dhrop ye ll git, Jack
Brown, until ye've wiped out the black score
that stands agin ye." "And it's there ye are,
darlint, and it's here's the bottle that's been
lukin' for ye sins Saturday." "And fwhot
hev you done w ith the last I sent ye, ye divil
of a McCorkle, and heres mo back that's bruk
entiorely wid dipping intil tho pork barl to
giv ye the best sides, and ye spending yur last
cint on a tare into Gilroy. Whist nd if it's
fer foighting ye are, boys, there's an illi
gant bit of sod bey ant the corral, and it may
bo meself 'll come out with a shtick and be
On this particular day, however, Mr. Ros
common was not in his usual spirits, and w hen
the clatter of horses' hoofs before tho door
announced the approach of strangers, ho ab
solutcly ceased wiping his counter and looked
up as Dr. Guild, the president ami secretary
of the new company strode into the shop.
"Wc are looking," said the president, "for
a man by the name of Wiles, ar.d thr«
Mexicans known as Pedro, Manuel ami
"Ye are?"
"We are!"
"Faix, and I hope ye ll foind 'em. And if
ye'll git from 'em the score I've got agin 'em,
darlint, I'll add a blessing to it."
There was a laugh at this from the by
standers, who, somehow, resented the intru
sion of these strangers.
"I fear you will find it no laughing matter,
gentlemen," said Dr. Guild, a little stiffly,
"when I tell you that a murder has been com
mitted, and the men I am seeking within an
hour of that murder put up that notice signed
by thek- names," and Dr. Guild displayed the
There was a breathless silence among the
crow d as they eagerly pressed around the
doctor. Only Roscommon kept on wiping his
"You will observe, gentlemen, that the
name of Roscommon also appears on this
paper as ono of the original locaters."
"And sure, darlint," said Roscommon, with
out looking up, "if ye've no better ividenoe
agin Ibim boys than you have fominst me, it s
home ye'd lietther be riding to wanst. For
it's meself as hasn't stirred fut out of the store
the day and noight—more betoken as the boys
I've sarved kin testify."
"That's so; Ross's right," chorused the
crowd. "We've been running the old man all
"Then how comes your name on this
"Omurdber! will ye listen to him, boys*
As if every felly that owed me a whisky bill
didn't come to mo and say: 'An, Misther
Roscommon,' or 'Moike,' ns tbe case
might be, 'sure it's an illighant stbrike I've
made this day, and it's meself that has put
down your name as an original locater, and
yer fortune's made Mr. Roscommon, and will
yer fill me up another quart for the good
luck botune you and me. Ah, but r k Jack
Brown over yan if it isn't siek that 1 am of
his original locations."
The laugh that followed this speech, and its
practical application, convinced the party that
they had Llundered, that they could obtain
no clew to the real culprits here, and that any
attempt by threats would meet violent oppo
sition. Nevertheless the doctor was persistent:
"When did you see these men last?"
"When did I see tbeiq, is it? Bedad, what
with sarvin up the f^uor and keeping me
counter's dry and swate, I never see them at
"That's so, Ross," chorused the crowd again,
to w hom the w hole proceeding was delight
fully farcical
"Then I can tell you, gentlemen," said the
doctor, stiffly, "that they were in Monterey
last night, that they did not return on that
trail this morning, and that they must have
passed here at daybreak."
With these words, which the doctor re
gretted as soon as delivered, the party rode
Mr. Roscommon resumed Ins service and
counter wiping. But late that n' ht, when
the l>ar was closed and the lasÇ loiterer was
summarily ejected, Mr. Roseofrimon, in the
conjugal privacy of his chamber produced
a legal Poking paper. "Read it, Maggie
darlint, for it's meself never had the laming
nor the parts."
Mistress Roscommon took the paper:
"Shure, it's law jiapcrs, making over some
property to vis. U Moike! ye hav'n't been
"Whist! and fwhotz that durty gray paper
wid the sales and flourishes?"
"Faix, it bothers me intoircly. Sbure it
oin't in English."
"tVhist! Maggie, it's a Spanish grant!"
"A Spanish grant? Moike, and what did
yegi" for it?"
Mi. Roscommon laid his finger beside his
nose, md.said softly, "Whishky!"
ï IN THF. ( Ol KTS.

lie tv
HILE the Blue
Mass company,
with more zeal than
1 1 iscret ion were ac
tively pursuing
Pedro and Wiles
over the road to
Très Pinos, Senors
Miguel and Manuel
were comfortablv
seated in a fonda at
Monterey, smoking
< armen. eigarritos and dis
cussing their late discovery. But they
were in no better mood than their late
companions, and it appeared from their con
versatio'i that in an evil moment they Inn
sold out,-their interest in the alleged silver
mine to Wiies and Pedro for a few hundred
dollars—succumbing to what they were as
sured would lm an active opposition on the
part of ;lie Americanos. Tho astute reader
will easily understand that tho accomplished
Mr. Wik« did not inform them of its value
as a quicksilver mine, although he was ob
liged to impart Ins secret to Pedro as a
necessary accomplice and reckless coadjutor.
That Pedro felt no qualms of conscience in
thus betraying his t 'v comrades may be in
ferred from his recent direct and sincere
treatment of Concho, and that he would, if
occasion offered or policy made it expedien
as calmly obliterate Mr. Wiles—that gentle
man biàiself never fur a moment doubted.
"If we had waited but a little be would
have given more—thi- cock-eye!" regretted
"Not a peso," said Miguel, firmly.
"And why, my Miguel? Thou knowest, we
could have worked the mine ourselves."
"Good, and lost even that labor. Look
you, bitte brother. Show to me now the
Mexican that has ever made a real of a mine
in California. How many, eh? None! Not
a one. Who owns the Mexcan's mine, eh:
Americ.mos! Who tak»«s money from the
Mexican's mine? Americanos! Thou r<
memlierest Briones, who spent a gold mini
to make a silver one? Who lias the lauds and
house of Briones? Americanos! Who has
the cattle of Briones* Americanos! Wht.
has the mine of Briotv"--' Aruericnnosl Wbt
has the silver Briones never found? Ameri
canos! Always tho same! Forever! Ah'
Tbenj*be Evil One evidently took it into
his beaJ and horns te worry and toss these
men—comparatively innocent as t hey were—
still further, for a purpose. For presently tc
them apjienred one Victor Garcia, whilom,
n clerk of the Ayunteiniento, who rallied them
over aguardiente, and told them the story of
the quicksilver discovery, and the two mining
claims taken out that night by Concho am 1
Wiles. Whereat Manuel exploded with pro
fanity and burned blue with sulphurous male
diction; but Miguel, the recent ecclesiastic,
sat livid and thoughtful. Finally came o
pause in Manuel's bombardment, and some
thing like this conversation took place be
tween the cooler actors:
Migue! (thoughtfully)—When was it thou
didst petition for lands in tbe valley, friend
Victor (amazedly)—Never! It is a sterile
waste. Am I a fool?
Miguel (softly)—Thou didst. Of thy gov
ernor, Micheltorena. I have seen tho appli
Victor (beginning to appreciate a rodentiai
odor)— Si! I had forgotten. Art thou sure it
was in tho valley?
Miguel (persuasively)—In the valley and up
tho falda.*
Victor (with decision)—Certainly. Of a
verity—t he falda likewise.
Miguel (eyeing Victor)—And yet thou hadst
not the grant. Painful is it that it shorn.,
have been burned with the destruction of tin
«tber archives by the Americanos at Mon
Victor (cautiously fueling his way)—Pos
Miguel—It might be wise to look into it.
Victor (bluntly)—As why?
Miguel—For our good and thine, friend
Victor. We bring tbeo a discovery; thou
bringest us thy skill, thy experience, thy gov
ernment knowledge—thy custom house pa
Manuel (breaking in druukenly)—But for
w hat? We are Mexicans. Are w e not fated 1
We shall lose. Who shall keep tho Ameri
canos olT?
Miguel—We shall take one American in!
Ila! seest Ibon? This American comrade
shall bribe his court, his corrcgidores. After
a little he shall supply the men who invent
• Falda, or valila, 1. e., that part of tbe skirt, of
a woman's robe that breaks upon tho pround. and
is also applied to the final slope of a hill, from the
angle that it makes upon the level plaiu.
t Grants, applications and official lotifioations.
under the Spanish government.'.were drawn on a
stamped pa|ier known as Custom House paper,
the machine of steam, the mill, the furnace,
Victor—But who is he—not to steal?
Miguel—lie is that man of Ireland, a good
Catholic, at Très Pinos.
•Victor and Manuel (omnes)—Roscommon?
Miguel—Of the same. We shall give him
a share for the provisions, for i ae tools, for
the aguardiente. It is of the Irish that the
Americanos have great fear. It is of them
that tho votes are made—that the president
is chosen. It is of him that they make the
alcalde in San Francisco. And we are of the
church, like him.
The}' said "Bueno" all together, and for the
moment appeared to be upheld by a religious
enthusiasm—a joint confession of faith that
meant death, destruction and possibly for
ger}', as against the men who thought other
This spiritual itarmony did away w ith all
practical consideration and doubt. "I have a
little niece, " said Victor, * ' whose work with the
pen is marvellous. If one says to her, 'Car
men, copy me this or the other one"—even if
it be copper plate—look you it is done, and
you cannot know of which is the original
Madré de Dios ! the other day she makes me a
rubric* of the governor, Pio Pico, the same,
identical. Thou knowest her Miguel
asked concerning thee yesterday."
With the «•mh-irrassment of an underbred
man, Miguel i. -dto appear unconcerned,
but failed dismally. Indeed, I fear that the
black eyes of Carmen had already done their
perfect and accepted work, ami hail partly
induced the application for Victor's aid. He,
however, dissembled so far as to ask:
"But will she not know*"
"She is a child."
"But will she not talk?"
"Not if I say nay, and if thou—eh, Miguel?"
This hit of flattery (which, by the way, was
a lie, for Victor's niece did not incline favor
ably to Miguel) bail its effect. They shook
hands over the table. "But," said Miguel,
"what Is to l>e done must be done now." "At
the moment," said Victor, "and thou shall see
it done. Eh? Docs it content thee? Then
Miguel nodded to Manuel. "We wi!) re
turn in an hour; wait thou here."
They tiled out into the dark, irregular street.
Fate led them to pass tho office of Dr. Guild
at the moment that Concho mounted his
horse. The shadows concealed them from
their rival, but they overheard the last in
junctions of the president to the unlucky Con
"Thou Leanest ?" said Miguel, clutching his
companion's arm.
"Yes," said Victor. "But let him ride, my
friend; in one hour we shall have that that
shall arrive years before him," and with n
complacent chuckle they passed unseen and
unheard until, abruptly turning a corner,
they stopped before a v adobe house.
It hail once liecn a somewhat pretentious
dwelling, but had evidently followed the for
tunes of its late owner, Don Juan Briones,
who hail offered it as a last sop to the three
headed Cerlierns that guarded the El Refugio
Plutonean treasures, and who had swallowed
it in a single gulp. It was in very bad ease.
The furrows of its red tiled roof looked as if
they were the results of age and decrepitude.
Its liest room had a musty smell; there was
tbe dampness of deliquescence in its slow de
cay, but the Spanish Californians were sensi
ble architects, and its massive Walls and par
titions defied the earthquake thrill, and all
the year round kept an even temperature
Victor led Miguel through a low ante room
into a plainly furnished chain tier, where Car
men sat painting.
Now Mistress Carmen was a bit of a
painter, in a pretty little way, with all the
vague longings of an artist, but without, I
fear, the artist's steadfast soul .She recog
nized beauty and formas a child might, with
out understanding their meaning, and some
how failed to make them ev^n- interpret her
woman's moods, w hich surely were nature's,
too. So she painted everything with this in
nocent lust, of the eye—dowel's, birds, insects,
landscapes and figures—with a joyous fidelity,
but. no particular poetry. Tho birds never
sang to her but ono song, the flowers or trees
spake but one language, and her skies never
brightened except in color. She came out
strong on the Catholic saints, and w ould toss
you up a cleanly-shaven Aloysius, sweetly
destitute of expression, or a dropsical, lethar
gic Madonna that you couldn't have told
from an old master, so bail it was. Her
faculty of faithful n production even showed
itself in fanciful lettering, and latterly in the
imitation of fabrics and signatures. Indeed,
with her eye for lieauty of form, she had al
ways excelled in penmanship at the convent
an accomplishment which the good sisters
held in greut repute.
In person she was- (ictite, with a still un
formed girlish figure, jierhaps a little too flat
across the back, and v ith possibly a too great
tendency to a boyish stride in walking. Her
brow, covered by blue-black hair, was low
anu frank and honest : her eyes, a very dark
hazel, were not particularly large, but rather
heavily freighted in their melancholy lid
with sleepless passion ; her nose was of that un
important character which no man remem
bers; her mouth was small and straight; her
teeth white and regular. The whole expression
of her face was piquancy that might lie sub
dued by tenderness or made malevolent by
anger. At present it was a salad in which
the oil and vinegar were deftly combined
The astute feminine reader will of course un
terstand that this is the ordinary superficial
masculine criticism, and at once make up her
mind both as to the character of the young
lady and the competency of the critic. I only
know' that I rather liked her. And her func
tions are somewhat important in this vo
racious history.
She looked up, started to her feet, leveled
her black brows at the intruder, hut, at a
sign from her uncle, showed her white teeth
and spake.
It was only a sentence, and rather a com
monplace one at that; but if she could have
put her voice upon her canvas, she might
have retrieved the Garcia fortunes. For it
was so musical, so tender, so sympathizing,
so melodious, so replete with the graciousness
of womanhood, that she seemed to have in
vented the language. And yet that sentence
was only an exaggerated form of 'How d'ye
do,' w hined out, doled out, lisped out, or shot
out from the pretty mouths of my fair coun
Miguel admired the paintings. He was
struck particularly with a crayon drawing of
a mule. "Mother of God, it is the mule itself!
observe how it will not go." Then the crafty
■'The Spanish "rubric" is the complicated flour
ish attached to a signature, and is :ts individual
and characteristic as the hand writi ng._____
Victor broke in w ith, "But it is nothing to
her writing; look, you -hall tell to me which
is the handwriting of Pio Pico;" and, from a
drawer in tho secretary, he drew forth two
signatures. One was affixed to a yellowish
paper, the other drawn on plain white fools
cap. Of course Miguel took the more mod
ern one with lover-like gallantry. "It is this
is genuine! h Victor laughed triumphantly;
Carmen echoed the laugh melodiously in
c hildlik e glee, and added, with a slight toss
of her piquant head, "It is mine!" The best
of the sex will not refuse a just and overdue
compliment from even the man they dislike.
Its the principle they're after, not the senti
But Victor was not sat 1-tied with this proof
of his niece's skill "Say to her," lie demand
ed of Miguel, "w hat name thou likest, and it
shall be done before thee here." Miguel was
not so much in love buf he perceived the drift
of Victor'» suggestion, and remarked that
the rubric of Governor Micheltorena w as ex
ceedingly complicated and difficult. "She
shall do it!" responded Victor, with decision.
From a file of old departmental papers the
governor's signature and that involved rubric,
which must have cost his late excellency
many youthful days of anxiety, was produced
and laid before Carmen.
Carmen took her lien in her band, looked
at the brownish-looking document, and then
at the virgin w hiteness of the foolscap before
her. "But," she said, jiouting prettily, "I
should have to first paint this white paper
brown. And it will absorb the ink more
quickly than that. When I painted the San
Antoni of the Mission San Gabriel for
Father Aolli,«J had to put the decay in with
my oils and brushes before tbe good padre
would accept it."
The two camps looked at each other. It
was their supreme moment. "1 think 1 have."
said Victor,* with assumed carelessness, "I
thi. J: I have some of the old custom house
paper." He produced from the secretary a
sheet of brown paper with a stamp. "Try it
on that."
Carmen smiled with childish delight, tried
it, and produced a marvel! "It is as magic,"
said Miguel, feigning to cross himself.
"it is ns magic," said Miguel.
V ictor's r> >le was more serious. He affected
to be deeply touched, took the paper, folded
it and placed it in Lis breast. "I shall make
a good fool of Don Jose Castro," he said; "he
will declare it is the governor's own signa
ture, for he was his friend; but have a care,
Carmen! that you spoil it not by the opening
of your red lifts. When he is fooled I will
tçll hitn of this marvel—this niece of mine,
and he shall buy her pictures. Eli, little
one?" and he gave her tho avuncular caress,
i. e , a pat of the hand on either cheek and i
kiss. Miguei envied him, but cupidity out
generaled Cupid, and presently the conversa
tion flagg«!, until a convenient recollection
of Victor's—that himself and comrade were
due at tbe Posada del Toros at 10 o'clock—
gave them the opportunity to retire.
But not without a chance shot from Car
men. "Tell to me," she said, half to Victor
and half to Miguel, "what lias chanced with
Concho? He was ever ready to bring to mo
flowers from the mountain and insects and
birds. Thou knowest how lie would sit, oh,
my uncle, and talk to me of the rare rocks he
had seen, and the bears and the evil spirits,
and now he comes longer, my Concho!
How is this? Nothing evil has befallen him.
surely:" and her dro ping lids closed half pa
Miguel's jealousy took (ire. "lie is drunk,
senoritn, doubtless, and has forgotten not
only thee but, mayhap, his nude and pack! 1
is his custom, ha! ha!"
The red died out of Carmen's ripe lips, and
she shut them together with a snap like a
steel purse. The dove had suddenly changed
to a hawk; the child-girl into an antique
virago; the spirit hitherto dimly outlined in
her lace, of some shrewish Garcia ancestress,
came to the fore. She darted a quick look at
her uncle, and then, with her little hands on
her rigid lips, strode w ith two steps up to
"Possibly, O Sonor Miguel Dominguez
Perez (a profound courtesy here) it is as thou
sayest. Drunkard Concho may he; but
drank or sober he never turned his back o,
bis friend—or—(the words grated a little
here)—his enemy."
Miguel would have replied, but Vic
tor was ready. "Fool," he said, pinch
ing his arm, "'tis an old friend.
And—and—the application is still to be filled
up. Are you crazy?"
But on this point Miguel was not, and with
the revenge ot a rival added to his other in
stincts, he permitted Victor to lead him away.
On their return to the fonda, they found
Master Manuel too for gone with aguardiente
and a general animosity to tho averagi
Americano to l>e of any service. Ko they
worked alone, with pen, ink and paper, in the
stuffy, cigarrito-clouded back room of the
fonda. It was midnight, two hours after Con
cho had started, that Miguel clapped spurs to
his horse lor tbe village of Tres Pinos, with an
application to Governor Micheltorena fora
grant to the "Rancho of the Red Rocks" com
fortably bestowed in his pocket.
» «.
-> «?
HERE can tie little
doubt the coroner's
jury of Fresno
would have re
turned a verdict of
"death from alco
holism," ns the re
sult of their inquest
into the cause of
Concho's death, had
not Dr. Guild
fought nobly in
support of the law
»nd his own convictions. A majority of the
jury objected to there being any inquest at
all. A sincere juryman thought it hard that
w hi never a Greaser lagged out in A sneakin'
kind 'o way, American citizens snould lie
taken from their business to find out what
ailed him. "S'pose he was killed," said^an
other, "thar ain't no time this thirty year he
weren't, so to speak, just sufferin' for it, ex
his nat'ral right ez a Mexican." The jury at
last compromised by bringing in a verdict of
homicide against certain parties unknown.
Yet it was understood tacitly that these un
known parties were severally Wilts and Pe
dro; Manuel, Miguel and Roscommon prov
ing an unmistakable alibi. Wiles and Pedro
had fled to Lower California, and Manuel,
Miguel and Roscommon deemed it advisable,
in the then excited state of the public mind, to
withhold the forged application and claim from
the co irts and the public comment. So that for
a year after the murder of Concho and the
flight of his assassins "The tRlue Mass Min
ing Company" remained in undisturbed and
actual possession of the mine, and reigned in
their stead.
But the spirit of the murdered Concho
would not down any more than that of the
murdered Banquo, and so wrought, no doubt,
in a quiet, Concho-like way, sore trouble with
the "Blue Mass Company." For a great capi
talist and master of avarice came down
to the mine and found it fair, and taking one
of the company aside, offered to lend his
name and a certain amount of coin for a con
trolling interest, accompanying the generous
offer wit h a suggestion that if it were not
acceded to he would be compelled to buy up
various Mexican mines and flood the market
with quicksilver to the great detriment of the
"Blue Mass Company," which thoughtful sug
gestion, offered by a man frequently alluded
to as one of "California's great mining
princes," and as one w ho had "done much to
develop tho resources of the state," was not
to be lightly considered; and so, after a cau
tious non-consultation with the company, and
a commendable secrecy, the stockholder sold
out. Whereat it was speedily spread abroad
that tho Great Capitalist had taken hold of
"Blue Mass," and the stock went up, and the
other stockholders rejoiced—until the Greu*
Capitalist found it was necessary to put up
expensive mills, to employ a high salaried
superintendent—in fact, to develop the mine
by spending of its earnings, so that the stock
quoted at 112 was finally saddled with an as
sessment of $50 per share. Another assess
ment of $50 to enable tho superintendent to
proceed to Russia and Spain and examine in
to tho workings of the quicksilver mines
there, and also a general commission to the
gifted an<l scientific Pillageman to examine
intothe various component parts of quick
silver, and report if it could not be manufac
tured from ordinary sandstone by steam or
electricity, speedily brought the other stock
holders to their senses. It was at this time
the good fellow "Tom," the serious-minded
"Dick" and the speculative but fortunate
"Harry," brokers of the Great Capitalist,
found it. convenient to buy up, for the Great
Capitailst aforesaid, tho various other shares
at great sacrifice.
• 1 fear that I have bored my readers in thus
giving the tiresome details of that ingenuous
American pastime which my countrymen dis
miss in their epigrammatic way as the "freez
ing out process." And lest any reader should
question the ethics of the proceeding, I beg
him to rememlier that one gentleman accom
plished in this art was always a sincere an« 1
direct opponent of the late Mr. John Oak
hurst, gambler.
j But for once tbe Great Master of Avarice
had not taken into sufficient account the av
arice of others, anil was suddenly and virtu
ously shocked to learn that an application for
a patent for certain lands, known as the "Red
Rock Rancho," was about to be offered be
fore the United States land commission.
This claim covered his mining property. But
the information came quietly and secretly, as
all of the Great Master's information was ob
tained, and he took the opportunity to sell out
his clouded title and his proprietorship to
tho only remaining member of tho original
"Blue Mass company," a young fellow of pith,
before many tongued rumor had voiced the
news far and wide. The blow was a htavy
one to the party left in possession. Saddled
by the enormous debts and expenses of the
Great Capitalist, w ith a credit further injured
by the defection of this lucky magnate, who
was admired for his skill in anticipating n
loss, and whose relinquishment of any project
meant ruin to it, the « igle hand«!, impover
ished possessor of the mine, whose title was
contested and whose reputation was yet to be
made—poor Biggs, first secretary and only
remaining officer of ihe "Blue Mass com
pany," looked ruefully over his books and
his last transfer, and sighed. But 1 have be
fore intimât«! thnt ho was built of good stuff
and that he believed in his work—which was
veil—and in himself, which was bettor; and
so, having faith even as a grain of mustard
seed, I doubt not that he would have been
able to remove that mountain of quicksilver
lieyond the overlapping of fraudulent grants.
And, again. Providence—having disposed of
fließe several scamps—raised up to him a
friend. But that friend is of sufficient im
portance to this veracious history to deserve
a paragraph to himself.
The Pylades of this Orestes was known of
ordinary mortals as Royal Thatcher. His
genealogy, birth and education are, 1 take it,
of little account to this chronicle, which is
only concerned with his friendship for Biggs
and the result thereof. He had known Biggs
a year or two previously; they had shared
each other's purses, bunks, cabins, provisions,
and often friends, with that perfect freedom
from obligation which belonged to the pioneer
life. Tho varying tide of fortune liad just
then stranded Thatcher on a desert sand hill
in San Francisco with an uninsured cargo of
expectations, while to Thatcher's active but
not curious fancy it had apparently lifted his
friend's bark over the bar in tho Monterey
mountains into an open quicksilver sea. So
that he was considerably surprised on receiv
ing a note from Biggs to this purport:
"Dear Roy : Run down here and help a
fellow. I'\e too much of a load for one.
Maybe we can make a team and pu R'Blue
Mass'out yet. B kig.se v."
Thatcher, fitting in Lis scantily furnished
lodgings, doubtful of his next meal and in
arrears for rent, heard this Maced in cry
as Kt. Paul did. He wrote a promissory and
soothing note to his landlady, but fearing the
"sweet sorrow" of a personal parting, let his
collapsed valise down from his window by a
cord, and. by means of an economical com
bination of stage riding and pedestrian ism,
he presented himself at the close of the third
day at Biggs' door. In a few moments he
was in possession of the story; half an hour
later in possession of half the mine, its infelix
past and its doubtful future, equally with bis
[to he continued ]

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