"I will marry you if only to get rid of him, Richard," said Florence,impetuously.
"I won't quarrel with your motives, since you consent."
So it happened that on their arrival in San Francisco they directedJones to drive to the house of a clergyman, and were speedily united inmarriage, the clergyman's wife and daughter being witnesses.Circumstances compelled them to dispense with the usual "cards andcake."
At nine o'clock, Orton Campbell, secure of his prey, drove up to Mrs.Bradshaw's door and leisurely descended.
"Well, and how is Miss Douglas this morning?" he asked of the astonishedlandlady.
"How is she? She's gone."
"What!" ejaculated Orton, furiously; "you have dared to let her escape?"
"You sent for her yourself. She went away with the mad doctor."
"'The mad doctor'? I don't know anything about any mad doctor. Woman,you are deceiving me."
"Don't call me _woman_!" said Mrs. Bradshaw, offensively, putting herarms akimbo. "I'm no more a woman than you are."
"Then you'd better dress differently," sneered Campbell. "Tell me whatall this means."
"The man that drove the lady out here yesterday came here more than anhour ago and said you had sent for her. He said there was a doctor inthe carriage who would take her to the asylum. That corresponded withwhat you told me, and I let her go."
"That scoundrel Jones!" exclaimed Orton Campbell. "So this is hisrevenge? I must go back to the city at once and circumvent him if Ican."
He was about to go when Mrs. Bradshaw said, "Before you go you'd betterpay me what you promised."
"I won't pay you a cent," said Campbell, angrily.
"Jack!"
The word spoken by the woman brought a rough-looking man to thecarriage-door.
"This man says he won't pay me a cent, Jack," said Mrs. Bradshaw.
"You'd better reconsider that, stranger," said Jack, pulling out arevolver and fingering it significantly.
"I owe her nothing," said Orton Campbell, surveying the revolveruneasily. "If she had kept the young lady here, it would have beendifferent."
"If there's a trick been played on you, my wife ain't goin' to suffer byit. She's earned the money, stranger, and I'll give you just two minutesto pay it over."
Orton Campbell read something in the man's face that convinced him hewas not to be trifled with. With many an inward groan he drew out onehundred dollars from his purse and handed it over.
"That's all right, stranger," said Jack, coolly. "I thought you'd bereasonable. Short reckonings make long friends."
With a muttered imprecation Orton Campbell sharply ordered his driver toturn the horses' heads toward San Francisco and make his way there asquickly as possible. His thoughts were by no means pleasant company. Hehad just been forced to pay out a considerable sum without valuereceived, and was beginning to think the sum paid to Jones also moneythrown away.
CHAPTER XXIX.
A WEDDING RECEPTION.
Orton Campbell cursed his folly in arousing the hostility of Jones. Heconcluded that the latter had released Florence in order to obtain ahold upon him, and would be ready to assist him again if satisfactorilypaid. In that event all was not lost. It was necessary to see Jones asearly as possible and make matters right with him.
He was not quite clear as to where Jones could be found, but concludedthat he had carried Florence back to her boarding-house. He thereforeordered his driver to proceed at once to the house of Mrs. Armstrong.
He hastily descended from the carriage and rang the bell.
It was answered by Mrs. Armstrong in person, who regarded him with novery friendly eye.
Orton Campbell, knowing his own treachery, and conscious that it wasalso known to the lady before him, asked, in some embarrassment, "IsMiss Douglas here?"
"No, sir."
Orton Campbell looked surprised. "I--I thought she might be here," hestammered.
"Were you the person who lured her from my house yesterday by a falseletter?" demanded Mrs. Armstrong, sternly.
"No," answered Campbell, unblushingly; "it was an agent of mine, who hasdeceived and betrayed me."
"Then, you had nothing to do with the disappearance of the young lady?"
"Certainly not," answered Orton Campbell, boldly. "I assure you it hasgiven me great concern, and I have been riding hither and thither thismorning in search of her."
"Won't you come in, sir? Perhaps we may be able to throw some light onthis mystery."
"She believes me," thought Orton Campbell, congratulating himself on theeffect of his duplicity.--"Certainly," he answered; "I shall be mosthappy to do so."
He was ushered into the parlor, into which, five minutes later, enteredFlorence, Richard Dewey, and a gentleman of clerical appearance.
"Miss Douglas!" exclaimed Orton Campbell, in astonishment.--"I thoughtyou said," turning to Mrs. Armstrong, "that Miss Douglas was not here?"
"I am not Miss Douglas," said Florence, quietly.
"I don't understand you."
"Perhaps I can explain the mystery," said Richard Dewey, coming forward.
"I wish you would, if you can," said Orton Campbell, with a sneer.
"This young lady is my wife."
"Your wife? And who are you?"
"Richard Dewey, at your service."
Orton Campbell had never known Dewey well, and his life at the mines hadso changed his appearance that it was not surprising he did notrecognize him.
"Is this true?" he asked, in visible dismay. "When were you married?"
"Half an hour since, by this gentleman;" and Richard Dewey waved hishand in the direction of the clerical gentleman already referred to.
"You have done a good stroke of business, sir," said Campbell, with asneer and a look of baffled hatred. "The lady's fortune makes her a goodmatch."
"So you evidently thought, sir," answered Dewey. "Your unscrupulousmethods have not succeeded, and I beg to warn you that the lady now hasa protector who will punish any such persecution as that with which youhave recently visited her."
"You are quite mistaken. My agent--"
"Only followed your instructions," said an unexpected voice, as Jones,who was within hearing, now entered from the adjoining room. "Mr. Orton,I have confessed all, so you needn't try to humbug this gentleman."
"You are a scoundrel," said Campbell, wrathfully, excited by theappearance of the man who, in return for being cheated, had betrayedhim.
"Then there's a pair of us, Mr. Campbell," said he, coolly. "I admitthat I behaved like a rascal, but I've tried to set matters right."
"You can find your way back to New York as you can; I have done withyou," said Campbell, hardly conscious that this very remark betrayedhim.
"Mr. Dewey has kindly offered to take me back with him," said Jones, notat all disturbed by this notice.
"If you are going back by the next steamer, Mr. Campbell," said RichardDewey, "I will thank you to apprise your father of his ward's marriage,and ask him to arrange for the surrender of her property at the propertime."
"You may attend to your own messages, sir," said Orton, irritably. "Iwill have nothing to do with them."
Without any further words he hurried out of the house, and drove at onceto the office of the steamship company, where he secured passage by theearliest vessel eastward bound.
That same evening Mr. and Mrs. Richard Dewey held an informal receptionat their boarding-house.
It was not largely attended, for Florence had made but fewacquaintances during her stay in the city. Uncertain as her prospectswere, she had thought it best to keep aloof from her friends, who mightpossibly make known her residence to her guardian. Among those present,however, were Richard Dewey's tried friends, Bradley and Ben Stanton.
Bradley tried to excuse himself, on the ground that he was only a roughminer and not accustomed to society, but his objection was overruledboth by Florence and her husband.
"You are a true friend, Mr. Bradley," said Florence, gratefully,
"and Ishould miss you more than any one else except my young friend andcousin, Ben."
"Ben's different from what I am," said Bradley. "He ain't such a roughspecimen."
"I'm only a miner, like you," said Ben. "I am a country boy and not usedto society, but I don't believe Cousin Ida will care for that."
"Cousin Ida" was the name by which Ben had been instructed to callFlorence when she came out to California under his escort.
The upshot of it all was that both Bradley and Ben were present at thebride's reception, and were made so thoroughly at home by Mrs. RichardDewey that neither felt in the least awkward.
Two weeks later Richard Dewey and his wife sailed for New York, but Benand Bradley remained behind.
"Come with us, Ben," said Florence. "I don't like to leave you behind."
"Thank you, Miss Florence--I mean Mrs. Dewey," said the boy--"but I amnot ready to go yet."
"Don't let the thought of money keep you here, Ben. I am rich, or Ishall be in a few months, when my guardian surrenders his trust, and Iwill take care that you are well provided for."
"Thank you again," said Ben; "but I've promised to go back to the mines.I've got a claim reserved for me, and so has Bradley. We'll go back nowand try to gather a little more gold-dust."
"But you'll let us see you in New York before long?"
"Yes, I shall go home in a few months, even if I come back again later.I want to see Uncle Job and Cousin Jennie, and all my old friends, notforgetting Sam Sturgis," added Ben, smiling.
"We must be content with that, I suppose," said the young lady. "I hopeyou will have good luck, but even if you don't, remember that you havetwo friends who will only be too glad to be of service to you.--Pleaseconsider, Mr. Bradley, that this is said to you also."
"Thank you, ma'am," said Jake Bradley, awkwardly, for with all his goodtraits he was not quite at ease in the society of ladies.
Ben and Bradley saw the young couple off on the steamer, and thenprepared to go back to the mines.
"It's made me feel kind of lonesome to part with Dick Dewey," saidBradley, thoughtfully. "He's a whole-souled feller, and he's 'struck itrich' in a wife."
"That's so, Jake."
CHAPTER XXX.
THE NUGGET.
Ben and Bradley made their way back to Golden Gulch by easy stages. Theyreached the Gulch about sunset, and were welcomed in such noisy style bythe miners that it might almost be called an ovation.
"We reckoned you'd come," said one of the leaders. "You look like you'dkeep your promise."
"I hope there ain't any hosses been stole since we went away," saidBradley, jocosely. "Ben and I ain't quite ready to hand in our checks."
"We wouldn't hold you responsible if there had been," was the reply.
"That makes me feel a little easier in mind," said Bradley. "It may bepleasant to hang from a branch with a noose round your neck, but I don'twant to try it."
The miners were just preparing to take their evening meal, and Ben andhis friend were invited to share their hospitality. After supper pipeswere produced, and Bradley was called upon to bring forth his budget ofnews. In the little mining-settlement, far from the great world, a manwho could give the latest news from the city or produce a late paperfrom any of the Eastern cities was hailed as a public benefactor.
So it was at an unusually late hour that our friends and the minersretired to rest.
The next morning the two new-comers were shown the claims which had beenset aside for them. They were eligibly located, and already had acommercial value, but were bestowed out of good-will, without a cent ofcompensation.
Bradley and Ben got to work at once. They had had their vacation, andwere ready to settle down to business. They were stimulated to effort bythe success of some of their fellow miners. Ben's next neighbor hadalready gathered nearly three thousand dollars' worth of gold-dust, andit was quite within the limits of probability that our young hero mightbe as successful.
"If I fail it won't be for lack of trying," thought Ben.
Three thousand dollars, in addition to the thousand he already had,would make him feel rich. Some of my readers, who have been luxuriouslyreared, will be surprised to hear this. But Ben had always been used tosmall things. He had been brought up in a small country town, where adollar counts for a good deal more than it does in the city, and where aman possessing ten thousand dollars is thought to be independently rich.His uncle Job, who was thrifty and industrious, and generally, throughcareful economy, had a little money in the savings bank, was probablyworth, at the outside, fifteen hundred dollars.
No wonder, then, that the prospect of being worth four thousand dollarsdazzled our young hero and stimulated him to unwonted effort.
Neither of our two friends got on fast. They averaged perhaps fiftydollars a week each, but out of this their expenses had to be paid, andthese, on account of the high price of all articles of necessity, wererather heavy. Still, the end of each week found both richer, and theywere contented.
It was the aim of every miner to "strike it rich." Each had a dream ofsome day cutting a rich vein or finding a nugget of extraordinary sizewhich should compress into one day the profits of a year or two ofordinary success. But such lucky finds were not numerous. As in ordinarylife, the large prizes are rare, and average success is the rule. Butthe general hope was kept up by occasional lucky strokes.
"Ben," said Bradley, one day in excitement, returning from a visit tothe claims half a mile distant on the other side of a hilly ridge, "I'vegot great news."
"What is it, Jake?"
"Perkins has just found a nugget that must contain five hundred dollars'worth of gold."
"You don't say so, Jake?"
"Fact; I just saw it."
"I hope there's more of them 'round here."
"So do I. That's a find worth having."
The discovery made a sensation at Golden Gulch. It excited the hope ofall, and stimulated labor. What had fallen to Perkins might chance toany one of his comrades.
So, as the miners sat round their roaring fire--for it was gettingchilly in the evening--one and another discussed the interestingquestion, "What would I do if I could find a nugget?" Various, ofcourse, were the answers. One would go home and start a dry-goods store(he had been a dry-goods clerk in Philadelphia); another would buy theold Stuart place and get married; another would pay off a mortgage onthe old homestead, and so on.
"What would you do, Ben?" asked Bradley.
"I would go home by the next steamer, and buy Uncle Job the three-acrelot he has been wanting so long, and buy new dresses for aunt andJennie. But it isn't much use forming plans till the nugget is found."
"That's so, Ben; but you are as likely to find it as the next man."
"I will hope for it, at any rate."
Though Ben's prospects were excellent, and he had met with unusualsuccess, his thoughts often wandered back to the quiet village wherethe years of his boyhood had been chiefly passed. From time to time hewas disturbed by the thought that something might have happened to hisuncle's family, of whom he had heard little or nothing since he wentaway. He afterward learned that letters had been sent which he had notreceived. He was not exactly homesick, but he felt keenly the lack ofnews from home.
In spite of this, however, he worked on with energy and industry. Hefelt that every dollar he earned brought nearer the day when he wouldfeel justified in turning his back upon the gold-fields of Californiaand wending his homeward way to Hampton.
Meanwhile, Ben did not neglect to do what he could for the generalentertainment. It has already been mentioned that he could sing verycreditably, and his talent was very often called into requisition in theevening. Ben was obliging, and, finding he could give pleasure, hegenerally complied with the request of the miners and rehearsed suchsongs as he knew, so that he was considered a decided acquisition bythe little company, and his popularity was unbounded.
"I've been thinkin', Ben," said Bradley, one Sunday when they weretaking a walk together, "tha
t if there was any offices to be filledyou'd stand a good show of bein' elected."
"What makes you think so, Jake?"
"You're the most popular man in the camp--leastways, boy."
"I can easily believe that, Jake, as I am the only boy."
"Well, there's no one ahead of you, man or boy."
"I am glad if that is so," said Ben, modestly. "It is chiefly because Iam a boy."
"Boys are not always popular. It depends a good deal on the kind ofboy."
So the reader will get some idea of Ben's life at the mines and theestimation in which he was held by his comrades. It was not veryexciting nor very eventful, but there was to be a change.
One day his pick struck something hard. It might be a rock which wouldneed to be removed. He dug round it patiently, but when he wished tolift it after it was loosened, he found it necessary to summon Bradleyto his assistance.
"Why, Ben!" exclaimed Bradley, in excitement, "this isn't a rock; it isa nugget, and a bouncer."
"'A nugget'!" repeated Ben, incredulously.
"Yes; look here!" and Bradley pointed out the indubitable signs of itsvalue. "Yes, Ben, your fortune has come at last."
"How much is it worth?" demanded Ben, almost breathless with excitementand exhilaration.
"How much? Three thousand dollars at least."
"Then I can go home."
"Yes, Ben, you're got your pile."
It may as well be stated here that Bradley's guess was not far out ofthe way. The nugget, when it reached San Francisco, was found to amountto three thousand seven hundred dollars.