CHAPTER XIX
COMMERCE AT HEART'S DESIRE
_Showing Wonders of the Thirst of McGinnis, and the Faith of Whitemanthe Jew_
There was a barber at Heart's Desire, a patient though forgotten man,who had waited some years in the belief that eventually a patron wouldcome into his shop in search of professional services. No one didcome, but still the barber hoped. He was one of those who had clamoredmost loudly for Eastern Capital. After the town meeting the courage ofthe barber failed him. He declared himself as at length ready toabandon his faith in Heart's Desire, and to depart in search of acommunity offering conditions more encouraging. In this determinationhe was joined by Billy Hudgens of the Lone Star, a man also patientthrough long years of adversity, who now admitted that he might beobliged to close up and move to Arizona.
The news of these impending blows fell upon a community already gloomyand despondent. Some vague, intangible change had come over Heart'sDesire. The illusion of the past was destroyed. Men rubbed theireyes, realizing that they had been asleep, that they had been dreaming.There dawned upon them the conviction that perhaps, after all, the oldscheme of life had not been sufficient. The lotus plant was robbed ofits potency.
It was at this time that McGinnis came to town. His advent was themost fortunate thing that could have happened. Certainly, it washailed with joy and accepted as an omen; for, as was known of all menover a thousand miles of mining country in the Rockies, McGinnis wasthe image and emblem of good luck.
Not that this meant prosperity for McGinnis himself, for that gentlemancontinued in a very even condition as to worldly goods, being steadilyand consistently broke,--a sad state of affairs for one who had broughtso much happiness to others. History proved to the point of proverbthat whenever McGinnis visited a camp,--and he had followed scores ofstrikes and stampedes in all the corners of the metalliferousworld,--that camp was destined to witness a boom at no distant day.
McGinnis was not actually a newcomer at Heart's Desire, but upon thecontrary one of the autochthones of that now decadent community. Hewas a friend and former bunk-mate of old Jack Wilson, discoverer of theHomestake mine. Five years ago, however, at the breaking of theHeart's Desire boom, he had silently stolen away, whether for Alaska orthe Andes no one knew nor asked. Returning now as though fromtemporary absence, he punched an ancient and subdued burro into town,and unrolled his blankets behind Whiteman's corral, treating hisreturn, as did every one else, entirely as a matter of course. Seeingthese things, a renewed cheerfulness came to the lately despondent.Whiteman the Jew, ever a Greatheart, openly exulted, and voiced againhis perennial confession of commercial faith in Heart's Desire.
"Keep your eye on Viteman," said he. "Der railroat may go, der barbermay go, der saloon may go, but not Viteman. My chudgment is like itvas eight years ago. Dis stock of goots is right vere I put it. If noone don't buy it, I keeps it. I know my pizness. Should I put intwenty thousand dollars' vort of goots, and make a mistake of der blacevere a town should be? I guess not! Viteman stays. By and by derrailroat comes to Viteman. You vatch. Keep your eye on Viteman."
He stood in the door of his long log store building, squat, stocky,bristling, blue shirted like the rest, and cast his eye down countersand shelves piled with clothing and hats, boots and gloves, pick-axes,long-handled shovels, saddles, spurs, wagon bows, flour, bacon, and allmanner of things which come in tin cans. Dust was over all; but abovethe dust was expectancy and not despair. The Goddess of Progress hadher choicest temple in the frontier store.
"I toll you poys years ago," Whiteman went on, "you should blat dertown. Ve blat it oursellufs now. Ve don't act like childrens no more.Ve meet again. Ve holt a election. Ve make Viteman gounty dreasurer.Dan Anderson should be mayor, and McGinney glerk. Ve make a towngouncil, and ve go to vork like ve should ought to did. Ve moveNogales City over here and make dis der gounty seat. Ve bedition for anew gounty--ve don't vant to belong to dot Becos River gow outfit. Vemake a town for oursellufs. Viteman didn't put in dis stock of gootsfor noddings. You vatch Viteman."
This speech turned the tide, coming as it did with the arrival ofMcGinnis. Billy Hudgens decided to wait for a few more days, althoughfor the time he was out of business for lack of liquids. It wasfortunate that McGinnis did not know this latter fact.
The capital of McGinnis, aside from his freckles and his thirst, wassomewhat limited. His blankets were thin and ragged, his pistol minusthe most important portion of a revolver--to wit, the cylinder--andwithal so rusted that even had it boasted all the component parts of asix-shooter, it could not have been fired by any human agency. He hada shovel, a skillet, and a quart tin cup. He had likewise asteel-headed and long-handled hammer, in good condition; this being,indeed, the only item of his outfit which seemed normal and in perfectrepair. McGinnis was a skilled mechanic and a millwright and could usea hammer as could but few other men.
On the morning after his arrival McGinnis rolled early out of hisblankets, ate his breakfast of flapjacks and water, and put his hammerin his hip pocket, where some men put a gun who do not know how tocarry a gun. McGinnis spoke to no one in particular, but headed upinto the mouth of the curving valley where stood the silent works ofthe New Jersey Gold Mills Company. He was not cast down because hefound no one whom he could ask for work. He whistled as he walkedthrough the open and barn-like building, looking about him with the eyeof a man who had seen gold mills before that time.
"They've got their plates fixed at a lovely angle!" said he; "andthere's about enough mercury on 'em to make calomel for a sick cat.There's been _talent_ in this mill, me boy!"
He crawled up the ore chute into the bin, and cast a critical gaze uponthe rock heaped up close to the crusher. Then he examined the batteryof stamps with silent awe. "This," said McGinnis, softly to himself,"is the end of the whole and intire earth! Is it a confectionery shopthey've got, I wonder? They do well to mash sugar with them lemonsqueezers, to say nothing of the Homestake refractories."
He passed on about the mill in his tour of inspection, still whistlingand still critical, until he came to the patent labor-saving orecrusher, which some inventor had sold to the former manager of the NewJersey Gold Mills Company, along with other things. McGinnis driftedto this instinctively, as does the born mechanician, to the gist of anyproblem in mechanics.
"Take shame to ye fer this, me man, whoivver ye were," said McGinnis,and the blood shot up under his freckles in indignation. "This is sobad it's not only unmechanical and unprofissional--it's absolutelyunsportsmanlike!"
His ardor overcame him, and, hammer in hand, he swung down into the orebin underneath the crusher. "Here's where it is," said he to himself."With the jaw screwed that tight, how cud ye hope to handle thisstuff--especially since the intilligent and discriminatin' mine-bosswas sendin' down quartz that's more'n half porphyry! Yer little donkeyinjin, and yer little sugar mashers, and yer little lemon squeezer of acrusher--yah! It's a grocery store ye've got, and not a stamp mill.Loose off yer nut on the lower jaw, man; loose her off!"
McGinnis was a man of action. In a moment he was tapping at theclenched bolt with the head of his bright steel hammer. Slowly atfirst, and sullenly, for it had long been used to treatment thatMcGinnis called "unsportsmanlike"; then gently and kindly as it feltthe hand of the master, the head of the bolt began to turn, until atlength the workman was satisfied. Then he turned also thecorresponding nut on the opposite face of the jaw, swung the greatsteel jaw back to the place where he fancied it, and made all fastagain. "She's but a rat-trap," said he to himself, "but it's only fairto give the rat-trap its show."
McGinnis went out and sat down upon a pile of ore. It was a bright andcloudless morning, such as may be seen nowhere in the world but inHeart's Desire. The Patos Mountains, across the valley, seemed soclose that one might lay his hand upon them. The sun was bright andunwinking, and all the air so golden sweet that McGinnis pushed backhis hat and gloried simply that he was alive. He did not
even note thecottontail that came out from behind a bush to peer at him, nor markthe sweeping shadow of a passing eagle that swung high above the littlevalley. His eye now and again fell upon the abandoned mill, gaunt,idle and silent; yet he regarded it lazily, the spell of the spot andthe languor of the air filling all his soul.
But at last the sun grew more ardent, and McGinnis, knowing the secretof the dry Southwest, sought shade in order that he might be cool. Herose and strolled again into the mill, looking about him as before,idly and critically. "Av ye was all me own, it's quite a coffee mill Icud make of ye, me dear," said he, familiarly. And at this moment athought seemed to strike him.
"It has always been me dream to be a captain of industhry,"soliloquized McGinnis. "I've always longed to hear the busy hum of meown wheels, and to feel that I was the employer and not merely theemployeed." He mused for a few moments, too lazy to think far at oneflight.
"It wud be nice," he resumed later, "to see the smoke of your ownfacthory ascendin' to the sky, and to feel that yerself 'uz the wholeaffair, cook and captain bold, ore shoveller, head ingineer,amalgamator and main squeeze."
"All capital," continued McGinnis, "is too much depindent upon labor.The only real solution--" he paused to feel his pockets for amatch--"the only real solution is to be _both_ capital and labor.Then, av ye've anny kick, take it to yourself, and settle it fair ferboth!" He paused again, and again the light of his idea showed uponhis countenance. "This," said McGinnis, "is Accajyun!"
He wandered over to the little boiler which drove the engine, and tookinventory of the pile of crooked pinon wood that lay heaped up near by.He sounded the tank on top of the engine house, and found that it washalf full. Then, calmly and methodically, he took off his coat, foldedit, and laid it across a bench. He picked up a piece of board,whittled a little pile of shavings, thrust them into the ashy grate,and piled some wood above them. Then he scraped a match, and turning acock or so to satisfy himself that the boiler would not go out throughthe roof in case he did get up steam, sat down to await developments."She'll steam for sure," he ruminated. "She'll steam as much as wud dofor a peanut wagon, av ye give her time."
Before the morning was gone the little boiler began to thump and churnand threaten. McGinnis ran the belt on to the stamp shaft. He went upand connected the crusher and shovelled a few barrows of ore into thehopper. Not long afterwards there was a dull and creaking rumble. Theshaft of the stamps turned half around, slipped and stopped with arusty squeak. Then came further creaks, groans, and rumbles. McGinniswalked calmly from place to place, tightening, loosening, shaking,testing, shovelling, and watching.
"It's wonderful," said he to himself, softly. "It's just wonderfulwhat human bein's can do! If I, hadn't ever seen this mill, I wuddn'thave believed it! But I'll say at this point meself, that I'm notlooking a gift mill in the mouth. Moreover, this runnin' of your ownmill, not bein' beholden to any sordid capitalist, nor yet depindent onanny inefficient labor, is what I may call a truly ijeel situation inlife. I'll stay here till the wood runs out. Not that I'll cut woodfor annybody. Capital must draw the line somewhere!"
No one noticed the smoke from the abandoned gold mill. McGinnis ran itby himself and undisturbed until his woodpile waned. Then hedisconnected, blew off, and set to work to scrape his plates, whereonto his experienced eye there now appeared a gratifying roughness in thecoating. He got off a lump of amalgam as big as his fist, and wascontent. "It's ojus there's no retort here," said he, "but like enoughI'll find some way to vollituize this mercury."
He crossed the _arroyo_, and went to the cabin which had once been theoffice of the assayer. The latter was now an _emigre_, but he had lefthis crucibles and his furnace behind him; because it is not convenientto carry such things when one is afoot. McGinnis found a retort,adjusted it, set it going, volatilized the mercury from his amalgam,and in time had his button of dirty but quite valid gold. It lay heavyin his hand and rested heavy in his pocket. "As a captain ofindusthry," said he, "I must see what I can do for poor sufferin'humanity." He chuckled, and passed out into the street.
"As capital," said McGinnis to himself, walking on in the moonlight, "Iam entitled to the first drink meself, and after that to one or two asa laborer. Then, if there's anny left, after treatin' all round, I'llbuy the town a public liberry, pervidin' the town'll make itsufficiently and generally understood that I'm a leadin' andpublic-minded citizen that has reached success by the grace of God anda extraordinary brain."
But McGinnis in his philanthropic intentions met difficulty. Hewandered into the Lone Star, and placing his crude bullion upon thecounter, swept about him a comprehensive hand. To his wonder there wasno response. A few of the assembled populace shifted uneasily in theirseats, but none arose. "Do you take this for a low-down placer camp?"asked Billy Hudgens, with a dull show of pride, when McGinnis demandedthe gold scales.
"No," said McGinnis, "it's a quartz camp right enough, and all it needsis developin'. At this speakin', I'm capital and labor both, and crewof the _Nancy Brig_. What's the matter?"
A sigh escaped from the audience, as Billy Hudgens made reply. "Not adrop," said he; "all gone. Nothing till Tom Osby gets back from Vegas,and maybe not then. I owe Gross & Blackwell over two hundred now."
McGinnis's voice dropped into a low, intent whisper. "Do you mean totell me that?" he said. "Me, with my thirst?" He laid a hand onBilly's shoulder. "Friend," said he, "I've walked two hundred miles.I've developed your place. I'm in a position to give this town apublic liberry worth maybe forty dollars. Now, do you mean to say tome--do you mean--" He gulped, unable to proceed. Hudgens nodded.McGinnis let fall his hand from the counter, turned and silently leftthe place.
He moved up the street to the adobe where the barber had his shop. Thebarber was gloomily sitting inside, waiting. McGinnis entered, andlooked about him with the ease of one revisiting familiar scenes.
In a case upon the wall were rows of shaving mugs, now dusty andabandoned, mute witnesses of a former era of glory. Indeed, theyremained an historical record of earlier life in Heart's Desire.
Once there had been rivalry between McGinnis and Tom Redmond for theaffections of a widow who kept a boarding-house in Heart's Desire, thesame long since departed. There came by express one day, addressed toTom Redmond, a shaving mug of great beauty and considerable size,whereon the name of Tom Redmond, handsomely emblazoned, led all therest. The fame of this work of art so spread abroad that Tom Redmond,as befitted one who had attained social distinction, became therecipient of increased smiles from the widow aforesaid. McGinnis bidedhis time. Thirty days later, there arrived by stage for him a shavingmug of such stature and such exceeding art as cast that of Tom Redmondcompletely in the shade! Thenceforth the widow smiled upon McGinnis.Tom Redmond, unable to endure this humiliation, and in the limitationof things wholly unable to raise the McGinnis ante in shaving mugs, wasobliged to leave the town. McGinnis hung upon the handle of theRedmond mug a goodly card bearing the legend, "Gone, but notforgotten." Shortly after that McGinnis himself left town. Alas! atthe instance of the widow the barber hung upon the McGinnis mug asimilar card; it having appeared that McGinnis had emigrated withoutpaying either his board bill or his barber's bill.
This evidence of his early delinquency now confronted McGinnis as hestepped into the shop for the first time in these years. He regardedit with displeasure. "Take it off," said he to the barber, sternly."I paid the widdy in Butte, two years ago. As for yourself, I havecome six hundred miles to pay my bill to you. Take it out of that."He presented his heavy button of gold.
The barber protested that he could not make change on this basis, butcheerfully extended the credit. He was glad to see McGinnis backagain, for he was most promisingly hairy.
"I am back, but I'll not be stayin' long," said McGinnis. "Have yeannything to drink?"
The barber mournfully shook his head, even as had Billy Hudgens.McGinnis, refusing to believe such heavy news, walked up
to the mantle,picked up a tall bottle labelled "Hair tonic," smelled of it, andwithout asking leave, raised it to his lips and drained it to thebottom.
"For industhrial purposes, friend," said he. In twenty minutes he waslying in a deep and dreamless sleep.
"In some ways this fellow has talent," said Billy Hudgens, as he lookedin on McGinnis later; "but like enough he's come to a show-down now."
Until noon the next day McGinnis slept soundly. Then he sat up on thefloor. "How're you feelin' now, man?" asked Billy Hudgens.
"Friend," said McGinnis, "I'm feelin' some dark and hairy inwardly; butI'm a livin' example of how a man can thriumph over circumstances."Wherewith he smiled gently, sank back, and slept again till dark.
"It wud have been too bad," said McGinnis to the barber when he awoke,"if you had left this town before I came. What ye've all been needin'is some one to give ye a lesson in not gettin' discouraged.
"As for combinin' hair tonic and strong drink into one ingradyint, ifanny one tells you it's a good thing, you may say for me the reportlacks confirmashun. But we'll not despair. Aside from the proverbabout the will and the way, 'tis well known that no disgrace can cometo a real captain of industhry through a timporary change in theindusthrial conditions. I'm sayin' to you, get in a new chair, and getready for the boom."