The Cave of Gold<br />A Tale of California in '49, Everett McNeil [best books for students to read .txt] 📗

WE ARE AGOIN TEW GIT THE MAP OR WE ARE A GOIN TEW GIT THE GOLD AFTER YOU GIT IT IF WE HAVE TEW GIT YOU TEW DEW IT. SO TEW SAVE YURSELFS TRUBLE AND TEW KEEP HUL SKINS ON YUR BONES YOUD BETER HAND OVER THAT MAP. THARS ENUF ON US TEW WHIP THE HUL ON YOU OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH AND WE WIL DO IT IF YOU DONT GIVE UP THE MAP. A WORD TEW THE WISE IS ENUF. LIFE IS WURTH MORN GOLD. TI THE MAP TEW THE END OF THE STRING THAT YOU WIL FIND TIED TEW A STICK STUCK IN THE GROUND RIGHT NEAR YUR DOOR AND WE WIL PUL THE MAP TEW US. IF YOU TRI TEW FOLLOW THE MAP WE WIL SHOOT TEW KIL. IF YOU TRI TEW ROUSE THE TOWN WE WIL VAMOSE. WE ARE ON THE WATCH. GIVE 3 JERKS ON THE STRING WHEN YUR REDY FOR US TEW PUL THE MAP IN. IF WE DONT GIT THE MAP BY MIDNIGHT TEWNIGHT WE WIL KNOW ITS TEW BE WAR TEW THE DEATH.

This ominous note was unsigned; but there was no need of any signature.

For a moment after all had finished reading, no one spoke, but each stood staring from the paper to the dagger in Ham's hand. Then Ham suddenly straightened up with a growl of rage.

"I thought it was them, an' this proves I was right. Th' durned skunks!" and the righteous wrath in Ham's eyes was good to see. "Now, men," and his glance swept swiftly the circle of excited faces, "this makes th' offerin' of proof unnecessary. We know who robbed th' Dicksons! An' we know, if they hadn't a-ben watchin' us an' a tryin' tew git hold of that thar skin map, they wouldn't have found out 'bout Dickson's gold an' did th' robbin'. This makes us sort of respons'ble for th' robbin'; an', I reckon, it's up tew us tew try an' make good what th' Dicksons lost on 'count of our bringin' them skunks down on them, more special since their mine's gin out, tew. Now, seein' that thar durned dam has played out on us, I reckon we're all a-calculatin' on havin' a try for th' Cave of Gold next; an' I figger 'twouldn't be more'n square for us tew ask th' Dicksons tew go long with us on th' hunt for th' dead miner's wonderful cave, an', if we find it, for them tew share in th' gold same as us. How does th' propersition strike you, men?"

"Bully!" exclaimed Thure enthusiastically. "Mrs. Dickson can beat dad and the rest of you making flapjacks all hollow; and she can make biscuits, real biscuits that a fellow can eat without cracking them first with a hammer, the same as nuts!"

"Wal, I reckon, that argyment settles it," grinned Ham.

"Supposing we consider the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company in session and put it to a vote," suggested Mr. Conroyal.

All agreeing, Mr. Conroyal promptly put the matter to a vote; and Mr. and Mrs. Dickson were duly elected members of the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company, with all the rights and privileges appertaining thereto, the vote being unanimous.

"Now I'll appoint Hammer Jones and Rad Randolph a committee to notify Mr. and Mrs. Dickson of their election and to escort them to the offices of the Never-Give-Up California Mining Company," and Mr. Conroyal smiled.

Ham and Mr. Randolph at once caught up their hats and hurried off to perform their pleasant mission; and in five minutes were back with the wondering man and woman on their arms between them.

As briefly as possible Mr. Conroyal now told the story of the skin map and the Cave of Gold; and how they had every reason to believe that the men who had robbed them were the same men who had murdered the miner, and who now were striving so desperately to secure the skin map; and in proof that the robbers and the murderers were the same, he showed the note and the dagger, which they had found on the table, in evidence that the men had been there that afternoon.

"Now," he concluded, "Ham thinks, and we all agree with him most emphatically, that, since we are in a way responsible for bringing the robbers down upon you, it would be no more than fair for us to invite you to join with us in our search for this Cave of Gold, understanding, of course, that, if the gold is found, all are to share alike, as all will have to share alike the dangers and the difficulties of finding and keeping it; and, judging by the note we found on the table, the dangers will be real enough. Of course we are not sure that the cave really exists, nor, if it does exist, that we will be able to find it; but we have faith enough in it to give it a try. We plan to start on the hunt just as soon as we can get ready, probably sometime tomorrow. This I think explains the matter sufficiently for you to come to a decision. Are you with us?"

"Yes! Yes!" exclaimed both Mr. and Mrs. Dickson eagerly.

"In to the death, as the note says," added Mrs. Dickson, smiling. "And we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for the chance."

"Do you know this murdered miner's name?" Dickson asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I think I know the man."

"John Stackpole, the map says," answered Mr. Conroyal.

"That's the man!" declared Dickson excitedly. "The very man I went prospecting with last fall. He had some crazy idea in his head then about a Cave of Gold that an old Indian whom he had cured of some disease, he had been an army doctor once, had told him he had found in a hidden gulch that opened into a canyon. We hunted all up and down the canyon, into which the Indian said the gulch opened, but we couldn't find no such gulch as the Indian described, and had to give it up. You remember my telling you all about it, don't you, Mollie?" and Dickson turned to his wife.

"Yes, yes," assented Mrs. Dickson eagerly. "You went on the trip while I was away to Sacramento City and you told me all about it, when I got back. Queer how things do turn out!"

"And so Stackpole really found the cave at last; but at the cost of his life," and Dickson's face saddened. "Too bad!—I mean his murder; for he was a good sort of a fellow, when he was away from liquor, but, let him get a little whiskey down him, and he was as ugly as the devil. I reckon that it was drink that drove him out of the army in disgrace; and I reckon it was drink that caused his murder; for he was a very cautious man and would have said nothing about his discovering the Cave of Gold, especially to strangers, if he had been in his right senses—Can I, can I see that map?" and Dickson's face suddenly lighted up. "Possibly I know the place."

"Sure," and Mr. Conroyal turned to Thure. "Get out the map, Thure."

Thure's face reddened a little, but, turning his back to Mrs. Dickson, he quickly, with the aid of his knife, ripped open the bosom of his shirt, and, pulling out the map, handed it to his father, who at once spread it out on the table in front of Dickson.

"Lot's Canyon!" Dickson cried excitedly, almost the moment his eyes fell on the map. "Why, that's the very name we gave the canyon where we tried to find the hidden gulch, on account of a white pillar of rock, that Stackpole said might have been Lot's wife. And here is the very pillar itself!" and he pointed to the little square on the map marked Lot's Wife. "And the Big Tree! And the Devil's Slide! And Goose Neck Lake! Every one of them names that we gave to places! I am sure that that is the same canyon that Stackpole searched for the Cave of Gold when I was with him," and Dickson turned an excited face to Mr. Conroyal. "It's about a five days' tramp from here."

"That's what the dying miner said," broke in Bud eagerly.

"And do you think you can find that canyon again?" asked Mr. Conroyal anxiously. "The trail on the map is none too clear; and I reckon we'd have to do some hunting before we found it, with only the map to guide us."

"I am sure I can," answered Dickson, his eyes still on the map.

"Well, then, we are in great luck," declared Mr. Conroyal. "I—Jumping grasshoppers, if we are not forgetting all about that polite note!" he exclaimed, as his eyes happened suddenly to fall on the dagger and the bit of paper, which, during all this time, had lain on the table neglected. "Now, what shall we do about that?" and his eyes flashed around the circle of faces.

"Let's first see if the string is really there," proposed Thure.

"Good idee," and Ham caught up the candle and started for the door, followed by all the others, Thure and Bud at his heels.

Within six feet of the door they found a sharpened stick thrust into the ground, with the end of a strong string tied to it. The string ran along the ground as far as the eye could see and disappeared in the darkness of the night, in the direction of a thick clump of trees forty rods away.

"Wal, now, they shore are cunnin' cusses!" and Ham's eyes followed the string admiringly until it was lost in the darkness. "Jest tie th' map tew th' end of this string, an' somebudy out thar somewhere in th' darkness will pull it tew him, without nobudy here bein' th' wiser for it. Not a durned bit of use tew follow up th' string neither. They could shoot an' cut an' run long afore we could see them in th' darkness. They shore are good at planning th' durned skunks! Say, jest supposin' we send 'em a leetle message, jest tew see how th' string works," and Ham turned to the others, a broad grin on his face.

This impressed all as a good idea, and they hurried back into the house to prepare the message. In a few minutes the message, written on the back of the piece of paper which they had found on the table, was ready. It was brief, but to the point, and read: