Read Copper Streak Trail Page 11


  CHAPTER XI

  A stranger came to Abingdon by the morning train. Because of awide-brimmed gray hat, which he wore pushed well back, to testify againstburning suns elsewhere--where such hats must be pulled well down, ofnecessity--a few Abingdonians, in passing, gave the foreigner the tributeof a backward glance. A few only; Abingdon has scant time for curiosity.Abingdon works hard for a living, like Saturday's child, three hundredand sixty-five days a year; except every fourth year.

  Aside from the hat, the foreigner might have been, for apparel, a thriftyfarmer on a trip to his market town. He wore a good ready-made suit, asoft white shirt with a soft collar, and a black tie, shot with red. Butan observer would have seen that this was no care-lined farmer face;that, though the man himself was small, his feet were disproportionatelyand absurdly small; that his toes pointed forward as he walked; anddetraction might have called him bow-legged. This was Mr. Peter Johnson.

  Mr. Johnson took breakfast at the Abingdon Arms. He expressed to thelandlord of that hostelry a civil surprise and gratification at thevolume of Abingdon's business, evinced by a steadily swelling current ofearly morning wagons, laden with produce, on their way to the station,or, by the river road, to the factory towns near by; was assured that heshould come in the potato-hauling season if he thought that was busy;parried a few polite questions; and asked the way to the Selden Farm.

  He stayed at the Selden Farm that day and that night. Afternoon of thenext day found him in Lawyer Mitchell's waiting-room, at Vesper,immediate successor of Mr. Chauncey Bowen, then engaged in LawyerMitchell's office on the purchase of the Watkins Farm; and he waspresently ushered into the presence of Mr. Mitchell by the demon clerk.

  Mr. Mitchell greeted him affably.

  "Good-day, sir. What can I do for you to-day?"

  "Mr. Oscar Mitchell, is it?"

  "The same, and happy to serve you."

  "Got a letter for you from your cousin, Stan. My name's Johnson."

  Mitchell extended his hand, gave Pete a grip of warm welcome.

  "I am delighted to see you, Mr. Johnson. Take a chair--this big one isthe most comfortable. And how is Stanley? A good boy; I am very fond ofhim. But, to be honest about it, he is a wretched correspondent. I havenot heard from him since Christmas, and then barely a line--thecompliments of the season. What is he doing with himself? Does heprosper? And why did he not come himself?"

  "As far as making money is concerned, he stands to make more than he'llever need, as you'll see when you read his letter," said Pete. "Otherwisehe's only just tol'able. Fact is, he's confined to his room. That's why Icome to do this business for him."

  "Stanley sick? Dear, dear! What is it? Nothing serious, I hope!"

  "Why, no-o--not to say sick, exactly. He just can't seem to get out o'doors very handy. He's sorter on a diet, you might say."

  "Too bad; too bad! He should have written his friends about it. None ofus knew a word of it. I'll write to him to-night and give him a goodscolding."

  "Aw, don't ye do that!" said Pete, twisting his hat in embarrassment. "Idon't want he should know I told you. He's--he's kind of sensitive aboutit. He wouldn't want it mentioned to anybody."

  "It's not his lungs, I hope?"

  "Naw! No thin' like that. I reckon what's ailin' him is mostly stayin'too long in one place. Nothin' serious. Don't ye worry one mite abouthim. Change of scene is what he needs more than anything else--andhorseback ridin'. I'll yank him out of that soon as I get back. And nowsuppose you read his letter. It's mighty important to us. I forgot totell you me and, Stan, is pardners. And I'm free to say I'm anxious tosee how you take to his proposition."

  "If you will excuse me, then?"

  Mitchell seated himself, opened the letter, and ran over it. It wasbrief. Refolding it, the lawyer laid it on the table before him, tappedit, and considered Mr. Johnson with regarding eyes. When he spoke hisvoice was more friendly than ever.

  "Stanley tells me here that you two have found a very rich mine."

  "Mr. Mitchell," said Pete, leaning forward in his eagerness, "I reckonthat mine of ours is just about the richest strike ever found in Arizona!Of course it ain't rightly a mine--it's only where a mine is goin' to be.Just a claim. There's nothin' done to it yet. But it's sure goin' to be acrackajack. There's a whole solid mountain of high-grade copper."

  "Stanley says he wants me to finance it. He offers to refund all expensesif the mine--if the claim"--Mitchell smiled cordially as he made thecorrection--"does not prove all he represents."

  "Well, that ought to make you safe. Stan's got a right smart of propertyout there. I don't know how he's fixed back here. Mr. Mitchell, if youdon't look into this, you'll be missin' the chance of your life."

  "But if the claim is so rich, why do you need money?"

  "You don't understand. This copper is in the roughest part of an awfulrough mountain--right on top," said Pete, most untruthfully. "That's whynobody ain't ever found it before--because it is so rough. It'll cost aheap of money just to build a wagon road up to it--as much as five or sixthousand dollars, maybe. Stan and me can't handle it alone. We got totake some one in, and we gave you the first show. And I wish," said Petenervously, "that you could see your way to come in with us and go rightback with me, at once. We're scared somebody else might find it andmake a heap of trouble. There's some mighty mean men out there."

  "Have a cigar?" said the lawyer, opening a desk drawer.

  He held a match for his visitor and observed, with satisfaction, thatPete's hand shook. Plainly here was a simple-minded person who would beas wax in his skillful hands.

  Mitchell smoked for a little while in thoughtful silence. Then, with hisbest straightforward look, he turned and faced Pete across the table.

  "I will be plain with you, Mr. Johnson. This is a most unusual adventurefor me. I am a man who rather prides himself that he makes no investmentsthat are not conservative. But Stan is my cousin, and he has always beenthe soul of honor. His word is good with me. I may even make bold to saythat you, yourself, have impressed me favorably. In short, you mayconsider me committed to a thorough investigation of your claim. Afterthat, we shall see."

  "You'll never regret it," said Pete. "Shake!"

  "I suppose you are not commissioned to make any definite proposal as toterms, in case the investigation terminates as favorably as youanticipate? At any rate, this is an early day to speak of finaladjustments."

  "No," said Pete, "I ain't. You'll have to settle that with Stan. Probablyyou'll want to sign contracts and things. I don't know nothin' about law.But there's plenty for all. I'm sure of one thing--you'll be glad tothrow in with us on 'most any terms once you see that copper, and have alot of assays made and get your expert's report on it."

  "I hope so, I am sure. Stanley seems very confident. But I fear I shallhave to disappoint you in one particular: I can hardly leave my businesshere at loose ends and go back with you at once, as, I gather, is yourdesire."

  Pete's face fell.

  "How long will it take you?"

  "Let me consider. I shall have to arrange for other lawyers to appear forme in cases now pending, which will imply lengthy consultations andcrowded days. It will be very inconvenient and may not have the happiestresults. But I will do the best I can to meet your wishes, and willstretch a point in your favor, hoping it may be remembered when we cometo discuss final terms with each other. Shall we say a week?" He tappedhis knuckles with the folded letter and added carelessly: "And, ofcourse, I shall have to pack, and all that. You must advise me as tosuitable clothing for roughing it. How far is your mine from therailroad?"

  "Oh, not far. About forty mile. Yes, I guess I can wait a week. I standthe hotel grub pretty well."

  "Where are you staying, Mr. Johnson?"

  "The Algonquin. Pretty nifty."

  "Good house. And how many days is it by rail to--Bless my soul, Mr.Johnson--here am I, upsetting my staid life, deserting my business onwhat may very well prove, after all, but a wild-goose chase! And I do notknow to w
hat place in Arizona we are bound, even as a starting-point andbase of supplies, much less where your mine is! And I don't supposethere's a map of Arizona in town."

  "Oh, I'll make you a map," said Pete. "Cobre--that's Mexican forcopper--is where we'll make our headquarters. You give me some paper andI'll make you a map mighty quick."

  Pete made a sketchy but fairly accurate map of Southern Arizona, with themain lines of railroad and the branches.

  "Here's Silverbell, at the end of this little spur of railroad. Now giveme that other sheet of paper and I'll show you where the mine is, and thecountry round Cobre."

  Wetting his pencil, working with slow and painstaking effort, makingslight erasures and corrections with loving care, poor, trustful,unsuspecting Pete mapped out, with true creative joy, a district thatnever was on land or sea, accompanying each stroke of his handiworkwith verbal comments, explaining each original mountain chain or newlyinvented valley with a wealth of descriptive detail that would haveamazed Muenchausen.

  Mitchell laughed in his heart to see how readily the simple-mindedmountaineer became his dupe and tool, and watched, with a covert sneer,as Pete joyously contrived his own downfall and undoing.

  "I have many questions to ask about your mine--I believe I had almostsaid our mine." The lawyer smiled cordially. "To begin with, how aboutwater and fuel?"

  "Lots of it. A cedar brake, checker-boarded all along the mountain.There's where it gets the name, Ajedrez Mountain--Chess Mountain;kind of laid out in squares that way. Good enough for mine timbers, too.Big spring--big enough so you might almost call it a creek--right closeby. It's almost too good to be true--couldn't be handier if I'd dreamedit! But," he added with regretful conscientiousness, "the water's prettyhard, I'm sorry to say. Most generally is, around copper that way. Andit'll have to be pumped uphill to the mine. Too bad the spring couldn'thave been above the mine, so it could have been piped down."

  Prompted by more questions he plunged into a glowing description ofAjedrez Mountain; the marvelous scope of country to be seen from thesummit; the beauty of its steep and precipitous canons; the Indianpottery; the mysterious deposit of oyster shells, high on themountain-side, proving conclusively that Ajedrez Mountain had risenfrom the depths of some prehistoric sea; ending with a vivid descriptionof the obstacles to be surmounted by each of the alternate projects forthe wagon road up to the mine, with estimates of comparative cost.

  At length it drew on to the hour for Mitchell's dinner and Pete's supper,and they parted with many expressions of elation and good-will.

  From his window in the Algonquin, Pete Johnson watched Mitchell pickinghis way across to the Iroquois House, and smiled grimly.

  "There," he confided to his pipe--"there goes a man hotfoot to dig hisown grave with his own tongue! The Selden kid has done told UncleMcClintock about Stan being in jail. She told him Stan hadn't written toCousin Oscar about no jail, and that I wasn't to tell him either. Nowgoes Cousin Oscar on a beeline to tell Uncle how dreadful Stanley haswent and disgraced the family; and Uncle will want to know how he heardof it. 'Why,' says Oscar, 'an old ignoramus from Arizona, namedJohnson--friend of Stanley's--he told me about it. He came up here toget me to help Stanley out; wanted me to go out and be his lawyer!'

  "And, right there, down goes Cousin Oscar's meat-house! He'll never toucha penny of Uncle's money. Selden, she says Uncle Mac was all for blowinghim up sky-high; but she made him promise not to, so as not to queer mygame. If I get Oscar Mitchell out to the desert, I'll almost persuade himto be a Christian.... She's got Old McClintock on the run, Mary Seldenhas!

  "Shucks! The minute I heard about the millionaire uncle, I knowedwhere Stan's trouble began. I wonder what makes Stan such a fool! Hemight 'a' knowed!... This Oscar person is pretty soft.... Mighty nicekid, little Selden is! Smart too. She's some schemer!... Too smart forOscar!... Different complected, and all that; but her ways--she sort ofputs me in mind of Miss Sally."