XXVII.
A NIGHT OF TRAGEDIES.
The Lone Tree saloon and dance hall was ablaze with lights. Twobar-keepers in white jackets were setting out the bottles over thelong, polished counter. There was the clink of glasses, as men stoodin rows drinking the amber-colored liquid. "Have another on me," wasfrequently heard along the counter, as someone felt it was his turn toset up the drinks to the crowd.
A brawny miner stepped up to the side of a sheep herder who had beenedging in all evening to get free drinks--and squirted a mouthful oftobacco juice in his ear.
"If anybody else had done that but you, Bill, I'd be tempted to strikehim."
"Don't let your friendship for me spoil your notions," the miner saidwith a contemptuous look.
The sheep herder made no reply, as he wiped his ear. The fire thatburned in his stomach demanded whiskey, and he would brook any insultto get it. He had reached the level of the sodden, and others passedhim by. It was yet early in the night, and crowds were gathering inthe rear of the large room, about the roulette wheel, the crap tablesand faro layout, back of which the lookout was seated on a raisedplatform. Stacks of coin in gold and silver were on the tables totempt the players. At other tables men were seated playing cards andsmoking. In an adjoining room, cut with archways, was the dance hall.An orchestra on a platform played rag-time music, while painted womenin short dresses to give them a youthful appearance, sat on benchesagainst the wall, or danced with swaggering men to the calls of abrawny bullet-headed floor manager. His bleared eyes and heavy swollenjaw showed the effects of a recent debauch ending in a fist fight.
The women urged their partners to drink at the end of every dance.While the men drank whiskey, they gave the bar-keepers a knowinglook, and a bottle like the others was set out containing ginger alewhich the women drank as whiskey, and were given a check, which theyafterwards cashed as their percentage.
While the sign on the windows read The Lone Tree Saloon and DanceHall, the place had earned the sobriquet of the Bucket of Blood, fromthe many tragedies enacted therein. And this place was run by a woman,Calamity Jane, famous in several mining camps. One fellow analyzed herwhen he said: "She is a powerful good woman, except she hain't got nomoral character."
Coyote Jim, faro dealer, sauntered in and took his place at the table.His eyes were a steel blue, the kind that men inured to the miningcamps of the early west had learned were dangerous. His face was thinand white, hair of a black blue, like a raven's wing, hung half way tohis shoulders. His thin hands handled the pasteboards in the box witha dexterity that marked him an expert. Supple in form, with quick,cat-like motions, he made one think of a tiger.
A dark faced woman wearing a Spanish mantilla was winning at theroulette wheel. The onlookers crowded about. She was winning almostevery bet. The interest grew intense, men crowded forward to catch aglimpse of her whose marvelous luck surpassed anything in the historyof the Lone Tree. Her stack of chips of white, red and blue, grewtaller at every turn of the wheel. The face of the gambler at thewheel grew vexed and then flushed with anger. The devil appeared tohave been turned loose and he was losing his stakes. The chipsvanished from his box in twenties, fifties and hundreds, and the groupof onlookers stared in astonishment. As he counted out his lasthundred he said: "If you win this you have broke the game."
The woman lost and the gambler began to have hope, when she won again,and so the pendulum of chance swung to and fro over those last hundredchips for an hour, when the gambler slammed the lid of his box withthe exclamation: "You have busted the game!"
The woman cashed in her checks. Over five thousand dollars was paid toher. She walked up to the bar and threw down five hundred dollars onthe counter and said to a bar-tender:
"I pay for everybody's drinks here tonight. Take no money from any ofthem and when this runs short, call on me."
The word was passed, "Free drinks at the bar," and the crowd surgedforward. A half-tipsy fellow raised his glass above the heads ofothers. "Here's to Mary Greenwater, Queen of the Cherokee Indians!"
"Rah fer Mary Greenwater," chattered old Amos, holding his reelingform up by the bar rail.
The invitation was even too much for Rayder, strong as had been hisresolution to let the stuff alone. The temptation of free drinks wastoo great, he imagined he needed something and called for gin.
Just then, some one came in and announced that the two men had beenrescued from under the snow-slide. The games stopped and the men atthe tables ordered their drinks from the waiters. The dance in theadjoining room stopped in the middle of a set, while men and womencrowded about the bar.
Only three in that room did not rejoice at the news--Mary Greenwater,Coyote Jim and Rayder. Amos was too drunk to know whether he ought tobe sad or rejoice. He did neither, but gave another loud "Rah for MaryGreenwater!" when a waiter led him to a seat. When the hubbub ofvoices which the announcement of the rescue had created, had subsidedsomewhat, the players resumed their games and amid the clink of chipsand glasses, could now and then be heard from some gamester, "Hold onthere, that's mine!"
Mary Greenwater went to the faro table. "Get up, Coyote," she said,"I'm going to bust this bank, and you and I have been together so muchthat they will think you have throwed the game. Let some one elsedeal." Another dealer was called and Mary laid down a hundred on theace. Men crowded about as before, when she was at the roulette wheel.There was a hush for a moment, when the clear tones of a man at thedoor rang out.
"Hands up, everybody. Don't try to escape, the doors are guarded!"
All was confusion in an instant. Calamity Jane, eyes ablaze, strodefrom behind the curtain in the dance hall. Quick of action, she firedat the nearest hold-up in mask. The uproar was furious. The lamps wereshot out by confederates of the hold-ups. The ball room women screamedwith fright, while jets of fire spit from revolvers in different partsof the room. Men were afraid to make an outcry, lest a bullet wouldfollow at the sound of their voice. Coyote Jim was crouching like atiger, beside the stacks of coin on the table. In his hand was a long,keen blade. He felt a stealthy hand near his own and he lunged theknife. A heavy groan and a few words in a language which only heunderstood, and the body sank to the floor. The tiger's blood was nowafire and he leaped upon the faro table, revolver in hand. His formwas outlined in silhouette by a light across the street, when a sparkflashed in the darkness and he fell headlong to the floor. There was aheavy roar of voices, as the men stampeded to the door.
When lights were brought from the outside, the masked men were goneexcept one. He lay dead near the door, with a bullet from CalamityJane's revolver in his brain. Coyote Jim lay dead, and by his side,Mary Greenwater, with her life's blood still ebbing from the knifestab.
From this scene of tragedy, Amos made his escape to end with thehorrors of delirium at home. The Bucket of Blood had maintained itsreputation.
The excitement of the affair spread over the town, and among thespectators who crowded in was a haggard man. His eyes were hollow anddeep-set, showing that he had undergone a severe mental strain forweeks. He saw them lift the affrighted Rayder from his place ofsafety at the baseboard, then his eyes rested on the dead woman at thefaro table. He threw a cloth over her face, and sat staring intovacancy until the undertaker and assistants came. Then he took theundertaker aside and said: "See to it that she has a Christian burial.I will be responsible." When she was buried the next day, there wasone attendant beside the undertaker and his assistants, at the grave.
The tragedies of the night marked a new era in Saguache. The betterelement arose in their might and demanded that the Bucket of Blood beforever closed.
XXVIII.
FROM OUT THE SHADOWY PAST.
When Buchan arose in the cabin and said "I thought I heard a voice,her voice," I was amazed. It did not occur to me that anyone wouldattempt our rescue, else why had they not done it long ere this?
He opened the door and shouted, then turning to me, exclaimed: "Theyare digging us out."
Our hearts leaped
for joy. We shook hands in expression of delight andBuchan danced a highland fling around the room. Two men, snow-covered,entered and hailed us joyously. Then came a woman, followed by Carson.She ran to Buchan and he caught her in his arms. I was deaf and couldnot hear what they said or I would write it word for word, but hekissed her and she cried, and he wiped away some tears, and I turnedmy back and pretended to be talking to Carson.
The men gathered up our few belongings and we hurriedly left thecabin. Sleds were waiting at the foot of the mountain, and we weresoon speeding toward Saguache. The air was crisp and the stars shonelike eyes of tender sympathy over the white plain. We were brought toa stop at the hotel. Men and women whom we had never seen came andjoyfully shook us by the hands, and had much to say in congratulation.The news of Hattie's arrival and her interest in Buchan had spreadover the camp, and many were the motherly old women who came to saysympathetic things and invite her to their homes, so great was theiradmiration for her loyalty and sacrifice for the man she loved.
The next day a mass meeting was called by the citizens. The Lone Treesaloon and dance hall had to go. A railroad survey had been completedthrough the town, and public works had been projected by thenewly-elected city council. A new era was dawning for Saguache. Thehall was crowded, as one citizen after another spoke of the futurepossibilities of the town, and a good government that would no longertolerate a lawless element. When resolutions were passed and theassembly was ready to adjourn, one speaker arose and said he heartilyendorsed everything that was said and done there that evening, butthere was another matter which should have attention: One of the menrescued from under the snow-drift had just married the girl who hadarrived a few days before from California, and his partner who led therescue party had married an estimable young woman of the town. Thedouble wedding had occurred at the hotel an hour before, and hethought it would be fitting to celebrate the event and the new era ofSaguache with a dance that night, in which everybody should be askedto participate. A roar of approval greeted the speaker. There was noresolution or motion. None was needed. Men instantly set to workclearing the hall of chairs, while a committee was sent to the hotelto announce to Buchan and Carson that a dance had been arranged thatnight in their honor.
Men came with their wives and their sweethearts, dressed just as theywere from their work, and the women as they were in their homes.Evening clothes would have been as much out of place in that ballroom,as the garb of a workman would be out of place in the ballroom of theWaldorf-Astoria. The orchestra struck up, and Buchan and Hattie weregiven the place of honor in the dance. Carson and Annie, being betterknown, felt that they should largely play the part of host and yieldedevery honor to Buchan and Hattie. The music was good. Everybody joinedin the spirit of goodfellowship, and the dance continued until thesmall hours of the morning.
It was toward the close that Rayder came upon the floor with a fatwidow milliner. He had taken a few drinks of gin and was trying to actkittenish when, in the midst of a cotillion, the widow fell to thefloor in an epileptic fit. They bore the woman to an adjoining room,where she soon recovered, but it was such a shock to Rayder's nervesthat he went out and braced up on a little more gin.
* * * * *
I was at the governor's reception in the state capitol of Colorado.The rooms and corridors were brilliantly lighted. Men and women inrich attire were there to do honor to the occasion. I was seatedbehind a decoration of palms, when a prominent attorney and acompanion took seats near me.
A heavy set man with a woman leaning on his arm entered the corridor.They were well, but modestly dressed. There were grey streaks in theirhair, but their steps were firm and, both were the picture of goodhealth, evidence of good and wholesome lives.
"Here comes Senator Buchan and lady," said the attorney to hiscompanion. "I knew those people twenty-five years ago. I was one of aparty to rescue Buchan and a companion from under a snow slide in theSangre de Christo mountains. The girl had come all the way fromCalifornia to help in the rescue. I don't believe she would have livedtwo days longer if we had not got him out. Shows what the right sortof love will do. It stands the test of time. There is no divorcebusiness in that. Buchan had an iron will, too. Somehow he and hispartners had discovered a lost Spanish mine and did not know its valueon account of some trickery of an assayer. But Silas Rayder did, soRayder hounded the boys to sell and finally when he offered a hundredand fifty thousand dollars, they closed the deal. Carson had justmarried, too. He took his money and invested it in a flouring mill. Ido not know what became of the other fellow, but Buchan put his moneyin a bank and it failed in less than three months and he went torunning an engine on the Rocky Mountain railroads. It was a prettyhard knock, but right there is where that girl came to the front likea guardian angel. She told him that perhaps it was all for the best.Riches do not always bring happiness. It is adversity that brings tothe surface our better natures and fires our ambitions to the noblerand grander things of life.
"Buchan must have had this in mind, for while he was running hisengine he was always trying to help some poor fellow. He accepted hislot in life and worked for years content with the love of that womanand when people saw he was made of the right sort of stuff theyelected him to the legislature and his very first act was to putthrough a bill making eight hours a legal day's work. That very acttook the yoke of bondage off more than half a million workers.
"It turned out just as the girl said. He has served the people threeterms and if he had not worked for their interests they would neverhave sent him back the third time.
"Adversity, sir, is oftimes the making of us. I never thought so whenBob Lee surrendered and our dreams of imperialism vanished and leftmost of us without a dollar. But I can see now it is all for thebest. As a nation united we welcome all men regardless of theirnationality, and, in return, they give us the best thoughts the worldcan produce."
"Rayder, what became of him?" asked his companion.
"When Rayder bought the mine he thought he had millions but he onlytook out of it about enough to get even when the vein gave out betweentwo big slabs of granite that came together like the thin end of awedge. A widow who had fits sued him about this time for a breach ofpromise, and either to get out of that or get square with some oldenemy, he married the widow Amos."
I arose and stood before the attorney and his companion. "I want toshake hands with you, sir," I said. He arose, and in extending hishand, said: "Your name, please?"
"I am the other fellow you rescued from the cabin," I replied.
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