The Republican. [volume], June 13, 1905, Image 6

About The Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1903-1909

Image provided by: Idaho State Historical Society

                
the republican
MILLIE E. LOWfHAOW, PaMsker.
IDAHO.
MOUNTAIN HOME,
Philadelphia is a dead town, and so
it is indulging in an epidemic of sui
cides.
"Do not hug delusions," says Ella
Wheeler Wilcox. Certainly not, Ella,
not while -
Another powerful argument for
peace is that the life of a big gun is
not insurable after the 100th shot.
Talking about having the candidates
in our midst, a child in this State re
cently swallowed a campaign button.
Workmen have dug up the bones of
a pirate while excavating a cellar, but
then haven't discovered any treasure
yet.
Woman in New York when granted
$8 a week alimony complained that it
wouldn't keep her in violets. She's a
daisy.
It is said that King Alfonso wishes
to marry a pretty American girl with
plenty of money. He isn't good
enough.
Our fashion mentor informs us that
gauzes have the pull over satin for
bridal gowns just now. Hence the
price of gauze.
Boston is maintaining its nerve
splendidly considering that hostile
warships are in motion only 12,000
miles or so away.
A Missouri man has been sued for
allowing his bees to "run at large."
He must learn to make them beehive
themselves, as it were.
"Is a woman's kiss worth $50,000?"
asks the Philadelphia Press. Well,
the present available supply seems
hardly to justify that figure.
The case of Mr. Spreckles proves
that rich American tourists who go to
Carlsbad should leave their vermi
form appendices behind them.
Osier now says bachelors ought to
,be taxed, and that there should be an
■export tax on Canadian girls. Really
almost human intelligence, isn't it?
The kissing by the Italians and
Swiss when they met in the Simplon
tunnel was not remarkable. People
sometimes kiss in tunnels in this coun
try.
Sunday warm and fine; light rod
and spidery line; two men, a five-mile
tramp, four feet most woful damp; and
twenty lies about one measly speckled
trout. *
Inspector O'Brien says New York
detectives "profit by robberies." Weil,
well! It may be that Wall Street is
not tlie wickedest part of the big city
after all.
A Westchester man has been in
dicted for drowning a $1,000 dog be
longing to a New York author. But
what business has an author with a
$1,000 dog?
t Scientific observers say Mars has
had an exceedingly mild winter. So
long as the proper planetary average
is maintained, we of this planet have
no right to kick.
Hell has been abolished. It was done
by a formal vote of the Lehigh Valley,
Pa., Ministerial Association, after a
spirited discussion. Good news to some
people, perhaps.
If our ambassadors must wear the
accepted court costumes when calling
upon the respective potentates, we
blush to think about our representa
tive in the Fiji Islands.
Henry Glass and Mary Stein have
secured a license to wed. It is to be
hoped that they are not rushing into
matrimony without having soberly
considered its responsibilities.
The Chicago health promoter who
says washboard and carpet-sweeper
physical culture is the very best for
women evidently is above any desire
for popularity with the young ladies.
A Boston schoolma'am has taught in
one school and one building for fifty
years. It would he disrespectful, how
ever. to speak of her as one of Boston's
grand old women. She is still single.
It is thought that Edgar Allan Poe
may get a niche in the Hall of Fame
this year. His name was rejected
when the first selection was made—
but still he hasn't been entirely forgot
ten.
In the course of a newspaper discus
sion of words that ire unpleasant and
difficult to write, one correspondent
names cash, taxi :, dues, notes, doctor,
undertaker, strenuous, yes, no and
enough.
By FREDERICK
UPHAM ADAMS
JOHN BURT
Etc.
Author of •'Tho Kidnapped Millionaires," "Colonel Monroe's Doctrine,'
COPYKIOHT, 1903. BT
A. J. DttUXKIi BtDDIiI
• Copyright, 1902, by
Fhsdbuick Upham Adams
All rights
reserved
CHAPTER XII.—Continued.
"I've been past it a hundred times.
I've struck a pick all around there and
never found ore," said Blake reflective
ly, "but that proves nothing. A thou
sand people walked over the Little
Calaveras before I found the gilt.
Wall, John," he concluded, relapsing
to the familiar Yankee drawl, " 'don't
this heat time,' as Uncle Toby Haynes
used to say?"
"It certainly is remarkable," said
John Burt, folding the map. "How
did you happen to select this particu
lar spot, Jim?"
"Just happened to, that's all," was
the laconic reply. I laid out claims
all along here, hut this one seemed
the most, likely."
"I suppose your claims cover the
ground indicated on this map, don't
they?" asked John.
"It don't make a bit of difference
whether they do or not," asserted
Blake with much vigor. "If you find
ore, the claim is yours, John, and don't
you forget it!"
"Suppose we go partners in the
Sailor mine," suggested John. "I have
a tidy sum of money, and I'll offset
that and the map against your claim
and experience. What do you say,
Jim?"
"It's not fair to you, John, but I'll
gladly accept, and here's my hand on
it!"
After breakfast they set about lo
cating the sailor's vein. In less than
an hour Jim Blake sunk his pick into
a quartz rock which showed free gold.
While Jim was gloating over his find,
John appeared from behind a ledge.
He handed Blake a nugget which
weighed fully ten pounds, and a
glance—to say nothing of the weight
—showed it to be almost solid gold.
Blake grasped it, devoured its dull
gloss with sparkling eyes, and hurled
his hat high in the air.
"We are rich! We are rich!" he
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SHOUTED. CEV77L THEJEOCKJ
PE30UATED
shouted until the rocks resounded.
"Monte Cristo was a beggar compared
with Burton & Blake! Hurrah for
the Sailor mine and John Burt! You
can't keep a good man down! Hur
rah!"
CHAPTER XIII.
The Quest for Gold.
The two young giants performed
wonders in the three weeks which fol
lowed their discovery of gold. Glow
ing with health and strength, and in
spired by ambition, they gnawed
ragged holes into the side of the
mountains with their picks and drills.
Several nuggets were found, but these
were of small value compared with
the broad stratum of ore which opened
out from the spot selected by John
Burt. The claim chosen by Blake
soon exhausted itself, and he turned
his attention to the third, expressing
a fear that he was a "hoodoo."
"But 'there's luck in odd numbers
says Rory O'Moore,' " sang Blake as
he poised on a shelving ledge and vig
orously drove a crowbar into a crev
ice. Ere the sun dropped below the
range he had uncovered another wide,
deep vein of gold-bearing quartz.
The spring rains set in and the
brook became a foaming, thundering
torrent. Avalanches tore down the
mountain sides, plowed their way
over the cliff, and, with a roar which
shook the cabin, hurled themselves
into the valley. The pine trees lost
their plumes of snow, and sang in a
higher key the refrain which told of
relief from burdens carried complain
ingly for months.
Piled in gray heaps near the tunnel
was ore worth not less than forty
thousand dollars. With the flight of
the snow and the birth of spring,
Blake wearied of his task and longed
for its rewards.
"Tell you what let's do, John," he
uld one night after supper. "Let's go
to Auburn and negotiate the sale of
these mines. We ought to get big
money for the Sailor, John."
"How much?" asked John, after a
moment's pause.
"Half a million," replied Blake posi
tively, with a loving accent on the
"million." "Half a million is dead
cheap. Don't you think so, John?"
"I shall not sell my interest—at
least, not at present," said John Burt,
"and I advise you not to. We can
handle this property without trouble,
and make more in developing it than
by selling it. Besides, I doubt if we
can get an offer of half a million."
"We can try, John," said Blake
hopefully. "Two hundred and fifty
thousand dollars is a lot of money. I
would take it in a minute if I could'
get it."
They discussed the matter for
hours, but Blake would not recede
from his position. Dangling before
his eyes was a purse containing two
hundred and fifty thousand dollars, to
he obtained without further work or
worry. It meant pleasure, affluence,
ease, liberty—it was enough. Not so
with John Burt. When the rock
crumbled beneath the first blow of his
pick and the ten pound nugget gleamed
in the shale, he recalled the parting
words of Peter Burt quoting the lan
guage of Isaiah: "I will give thee the
treasures of darkness and the hidden
riches of secret places."
"We'll talk no more about this mat
ter to-night, Jim," he said, when Blake
had finished telling of the great things
which could he accomplished with a
quarter of a million dollars. "I'll think
it over for two or three days, and then
we'll take the question up and de
cide it."
Blake curbed his impatience and
worked and waited. He knew John
Burt well enough npt to mention the
topic during the days which followed.
One evening, after supper, John
PE30UATED
spent an hour or more figuring in an
old note-book.
"I suppose you are still determined
to sell your share in these mines,
Jim?" said John.
"I am, if I can get an offer of a quar
ter of a million," replied Jim.
"You're making a mistake, old
man." said John Burt, laying his hand
on his friend's shoulder, "but you
have as much right to your opinion as
I have to mine. So we will call tbit
settled. I told you I would make yon
a proposition, and here it is. There
are two mines, and they look equally
promising. I propose that you take
one and I take the other. We will
call the south one 'Sailor A' and the
north 'Sailor B.' You can have your
choice."
"That's not fair!" said Jim. ''I'll
play you a game of seven-up for the
first choice; three games of ten points
each—best two out of three to take
first choice."
"All right," responded John, as
Blake produced a well worn pack of
cards and shuffled them. "But before
we play, let me finish my proposition.
You wish to sell your claims for two
hundred and fifty thousand if you can
find a purchaser. Will you give me an
option on your claim. I'll give you
five thousand in cash for the follow
ing option on your claim—you to deed
me all your rights in consideration of
one hundred thousand dollars, payable
in sixty days from this date; one hun
dred thousand payable in six months
from date, and one hundred thousand
payable in one year from date. And—"
"You bet your life I will," interrupt
ed Blake, extending his hand. Make
it two thousand in cash, John. That
will he enough. Make it two thousand
and I'll go you."
"We will call it twenty-five hundred,
and you can have the other twenty
five hundred if you need it." said John
smiling. "But l had not finished.
You shall have one-half of the pro
ceeds from the sale of the ore already
mined. That should net you $25,000.
You need not shake your head. In
any arrangement I may make with
outsiders you shall have ten per cent
of all profits payable to me. I wish to
feel that you will always have an in
terest in the Sailor mine."
"All right, John," said Jim, finally.
Now we'll play that game of seven
up."
Blake won the first game and John
the second. In the third game John
had two to go, and Blake lacked six
points. It was his deal. He turned
two jacks before the trump was se
lected, and then made high, low, jack,
and the game, and won the rubber and
the first choice.
"Lucky in cards, unlucky in love,
laughed Blake as he arose from the ta
ble. "Sailor A is mine—subject to
your option, John."
John drew up an agreement and an
option, which both signed, and the
film of Burton & Blake was dissolved.
Blake accepted twenty-five hundred
dollars in cash, and three days later
both arrived in the little mining town
of Auburn, from which they sent a
trustworthy man back to the cabin, to
remain on guard until John Burt re
turned.
Bidding Blake adieu for a week or
more, Burt proceeded to San Fran
cisco.
He engaged rooms in the Palace ho
tel—registering under the name of
John Burton—and made inquiries con
cerning the leading mining experts of
the city. He decided to present his
case to David Parker. He wrote the
famous expert a brief letter, and was
duly accorded an interview.
During the brief preliminary con
versation, John Burt studied David
Parker and decided to trust him. Then
he related the story of the discovery
of the Sailor mine.
"I have always believed that those
hills—that those hills — contained
gold," said David Parker hesitatingly.
"Why do you come to me, Mr. Bur
ton?" he asked. "I am not an—an in
vestor. I'm an expert—at least, an—
an alleged expert."
"I wish yoie to refer me to an in
vestor," replied John Burt. You are
an expert in metals and should be in
capitalists. You know them; I don't."
"Go and see John Hawkins," said
David Parker, as a faint smile froze
on his face. He is honest—but hard—
hard as granite. I hope you may suc
ceed with him—Mr. Burton. If you
and—Mr. Hawkins cannot come to
terms, I—I might refer you to others.
Good day; good day, sir—and good
luck!"
As David Parker predicted, John
Burt had little trouble in securing an
interview with John Hawkins, million
aire mine owner and investor.
He wrote the name "John Burton"
a card and gave it to an attendant.
Two burly men stood in the doorway,
pausing to make some parting re
mark, which was followed by roars of
merriment.
on
The attendant brushed
past them as they closed the door.
"Tell him to come in," was the or
der given in a voice sonorous through
the heavy partition.
John Burt's education in the eti
quette of servility and in adulation of
material things was singularly defec
tive. This may have been due to his
country training. It never occurred to
John Burt that he should stand in awe
of the Hawkins millions. He was im
pressed by the leonine head and gi
gantic proportions of the magnate, as
artist is when he contemplates for
the first time some stupendous work
He returned the great
an
of nature,
man's gaze, before which most strang
ers quailed and faltered, with an an
swering look which calmly asserted
equality, yielding deference only
to a seniority of years.
"How do you do? What can I do
for you, sir? Take a chair." Mr.
Hawkins glanced again at the card,
tossed it on his desk, and wheeled and
confronted John Burt, who had ac
an
cepted this gruff invitation.
"I own or control some recently dis
covered gold mines, and am in San
Francisco for the purpose of interest
capital in their development,"
said John Burt. "I am informed tlPat
you are an investor in mining proper
ty. I am in a position to submit prop
ositions which may result to our
mutual advantage."
"Where are they?" growled Mr.
John Hawkins.
For an answer John stepped behind
the capitalist and placed his fingers
a point indicated on a large map of
California which hung on the wall.
"They are located on the west slope
of the Sierra Nevadas, at an altitude
of about two thousand feet above the
river, five miles south of the Wormley
trail," said John. "Here is. a rough
detailed map of the surroundings."
He handed the chart to Mr. Hawkins.
"There is no gold there—not an
ounce," declared the magnate. "You
have found a mare's nest, young man.
I looked that country over ten years
There's no gold there."
"My partner and I have extracted
forty thousand dollars' worth of high
grade ore there in three weeks," said
John Burt quietly. "Here is a speci
men of it. Here is something else."
He placed a sample of ore and the ten
pound nugget in Hawkins' out
stretched "hand.
* (To be continued.)
ing
on
ago.
I
TALKING CROW IS DEAD.
Prof. Wood Always Held That Jack
Could Reason, Too.
which
Prof.
Jack, the pet crow,
Wood of the Smithsonian institution
has had for a constant roommate for
the last eight years, is dead, says a
Washington special to the
City Star. Prof. Wood has always
averred that Jack could reason as well
Wood bought the crow eight
ago when a-fledgling. For weeks
Kansas
as talk.
years
the young crow did nothing but "caw.
At last Wood, in desperation, scolded
him and the bird, to his amazement,
called out, "Come on. come on, Jack."
He had heard this said to him innum
erable times as his master left the
room.
It was several weeks before the
bird spoke again and then it broke
out with an imitation of his master,
"Well, well, well, well." The crow
learned to imitate other birds and ani
mals. The bird nearly always repeat
ed Prof. Wood's remarks four or five
times and then would stop,
studying their effect on his auditors.
He could imitate the "hello" call
over the telephone so well that it de
ceived those who were in the room
and did not know there was a talking
crow there. Prof. Wood thinks the
bird died of old age, not subscribing
to the common idea that crows live to
he centenarians.
as if
TREES JOIN THEIR LIVES.
Seen in
Combination
Maine Pine Forest.
This picture illustrates an exceed
ingly rare instance in arboreal life, of
twc trees standing side by side throw
ing out branches toward each other,
Remarkable
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and by some unexplained affinity unit
ing, thus forming a dual organism, a
vegetable counterpart of the famous
Siamese twins.
This remarkable freak of nature is
to be seen in a pine forest in Eliot,
Me. It was lately photographed, as
here shown, by Harold Goodwin, '08,
Dover, N. H., high school. He says
that the trees are young pines, about
half grown. They stand approximate
ly one foot apart, and the living arm
that unites them is from five to seven
inches in diameter. A close examina
tion shows that it consists of two
branches, one from each tree, that
have grown together.
The twin trees are joined about
seven feet from the ground.—Boston
Globe.
Mine Tunnel Used as Jail.
An unused mining tunnel with a
sheet iron door across the entrance
constitutes the branch jail at the
lively smelter town of Kennett.
Constable Limbaugh asked the
supervisors to make an appropriation
for building a calaboose, a conveni
ence that was a necessity in the lively
camp. The supervisors could not af
ford to grant the allowance. The con
stable supplied the deficiency by get
ting permission from the mining com
pany to use the abandoned tunnel. He
furnished the sheet iron door himself.
The tunnel is a long one. It makes
a commodious calaboose and one that
is mighty secure.—San Francisco
Chronicle.
Growers Get Small Percentage.
William Soule of South Livermore,
Me., recently undertook the shipment
of a lot of apples to England through
commission merchants in Liverpool.
While packing the apples, Mrs. Lillian
Bassett placed a note in one of the
barrels asking the buyer to send her
a card stating the price which he paid
for the fruit. The answer was received
the other day, stating that the barrel
in question sold for $2.48. Soule got
68 cents per barrel. A little arithme
tic, therefore, brings out the fact that,
while the grower got the trivial sum
of 68 cents, the transportation com
panies and English apple dealers got
$1.80.