Puck — November 19, 1879 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ARCHIE GASCOYNE A ROMANCE OF SKYE, WRITIEN EXPRESSLY FOR PUCK, BY JOHN FRASER, AUTHOR OF «Efie: A Tale of Two Worlds; ‘Essays from the Westminster;” “Duncan Fenwick’s Daughter;” “Fair Fragoletta;” “Scottish CRapbooks;” “A Dream of Life;"” “+ Legends of Lorne; Lone Glengartney,” : ete., ete., ete. Continuation oF Boatswain's Story. (PROM ARCHIE GASCOYNE’S DIARY.) «Of the ten or twelve years that followed,” continued the sick man, “I need say next to nothing. My two companions disappeared in New York, and I was left to rough it alone. On the whole I did fairish well, and was raking up a steady pile of dollars on the lakes, when I met Dick. ‘That was an onlucky day for me, sir; an onlucky day. Not that there were not worse chaps than Dick; he wouldn’t cheat a friend for the world, and would stand by him through thick and thin to his bottom dollar. But he,was wild—awful wild. His people in the old country were well off—for Dick was an Englishman, and had been brought up asa gentleman, Anyone could see that, sir, as plain as a marlingspike, and we all called him ‘Gen- tleman Dick.’ Well, sir, to make a long story short, for I feel faintish-like and I don’t want to weary you, when I met Dick first there was a great talk in mining circles about some silver mines that had been struck in Colorado; and nothing would satisfy Dick but we should pack up and go off there on spec. I had saved a goodish bit of money, and Dick managed to raise some more. So we jined the lumps to- gether and started as pardners, It was a long and tiresome journey, you bet, and we were mightily tired and worn out when we got the length of Denver, and as you might almost say of Pike's Peak, the place we was agoin’ to, and a mighty wild place it is—more 'n 15,000 feet above the level of the sea, and covered with snow all the year round, When we got as far as Denver I kind of wanted to turn back, or, at any rate, rest there a spell. But Dick was a main obstinate kind of chap, and nothing would do but we'd go right ahead. So away we forged ahead again, and after most awful hard- ships got to our destination, where we met a small party of miners, and they didn’t seem in the best of spirits either. But Dick was full of spirit, and within a couple of days of arriving we had pitched our tent and set to work. The place was called Grizzly Gulch, for shortly after we left it, I’ve heard since, its name was changed and it became quite a large town; these mining towns do spring up surprising fast. Where we settled was in a canyon of the Green River, the banks of which on some places are nigh 4,000 feet high, and almighty steep. “Well, as I was sayin’, we set to work, and mighty hard work we found it, too. There was silver in plenty to be sure, but it was hard to find, and me and my pardner were main unfor- tunate. After some weeks of as hard work and as mean as ever men had, Dick he lost heart, and I wasn’t long in following suit. We hada few greenbacks left, and we made up our minds to make tracks for where we'd come from, be- fore our money was all out. So off we went, but we lost our way, and how we'd hev got to Denver, or Spanish Fort, or any other Christian town, it beats me to guess, but for meeting a mining chap that was coming home from a long spell of mining in Nevada, where he had made a mighty big pile of money. He guided us to a place of shelter where we rested a bit and got something to eat and drink. It was a mean shanty enough, where the man stayed all’by himself; but it was on the high road between Denver, La Porte, Salt Lake City, and other places, and there was a good deal of trade on it in a way. The miner chap I spoke of had been located in the shanty he took us to for nigh onto six months. He lived all alone, and sold drinks and what kind of food he had to passing bands of miners. We wanted—did Dick and I—to shove right ahead away, but a storm came on and we were glad to spend the time where we were. So, to pass the time, Smith —for that was his name—brought out the bottle and cards, and we sot down to spend the night. After we had been playing for some time luck began to run dead against us, and by two or three in the morning Smith had cleaned us right out, even to our traveling kits. You bet we felt bad, did my pardner and me; but he was wilder than me, and Smith, who had drank a mighty lot of liquor, began to chaff Dick badly. Y: “At last Dick, who had been watching him for a considerable time, gets up with an oath and grabs him by the throat. “You d—d cheat,’ shouts he, ‘you’ve four aces up your sleeve’—and he shook the other like a dog would a cat, and sure enough the cards dropped out. “You never seed a man turn as plaguy scared as that man did; but all he said was: ‘you're a liar,’ and before Dick could say naught he out with his revolver and shot full at my pardner’s face. ‘The shot struck poor Dick on the temple, and he fell forard with a sort of gasp. I then closed with Smith, and, being much stronger than him, I had whipped the metal out of his hand and had him on his back in less than no time. “Then I whispers to Dick, did I: ‘ Dick, old man, are you badly hurt ?” “Pretty rough,’ says he, ‘but I'll pull through, I think. Only remember, Jim, give that cuss hell.’ . ‘Waal, my temper was up, you see, and the man had first cheated us and then shot Dick, and we had drunk more than was good for us, and I felt that mad to see my pardner lying there all white and gasping-like, that, without even thinking of consekences, I answered, low- like: “That I will, by God’—but I didn’t do it when he was down. I let up and shoved his barker into his fist, and he fit him squar and straight. But the varmint’s hand shook so he could scarce hold the pistol, and I could—” = * -* Here Jim paused for breath, overcome with the recollections of that night. I thought his end had come, he looked so faint and ghastly, and I urged him to stop and let me call the doctor. But he was so bent on relieving his mind that I saw it would only hurt him to insist. * * * “Dick did not die after all—leastways not immediate-like, though that bit of lead sent him to the ‘Kingdom Come’ within a fortnight. He had some strength left and helped me to bury #4. Dick was for taking his money, of which he had quite a sight, close on to twenty thousand dollars, Dick guessed; for I couldn’t bear to look at it; but it was a mighty pile. Well, as I was sayin’, my pardner wanted to take the stuff, but I wouldn’t hear of it, and after a bit I got him talked over. But I seed no objections to taking back the money we'd 'a been robbed off, and maybe Dick wasn’t quite particular about the quantity like. “ But be that as it may, we buried Smith with his money—most of it tied up in his belt—and we marked the spot. Here is the paper Dick wrote. I’m no scholar,. but he was main spry with his pen; most as spry as with his revolver. Ay, here's the paper. Smith had neither kith nor kin—he told us so hisself—nor friend of any kind, and, though I could never bear to take it, I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Least- wise there’s the paper as Dick drawed up. You have been very kind to me and I feel main grateful. * * * “T needn’t say more about it. After a few days Dick died, and I felt terrible lonesome after I buried him. I couldn't forgive myself neither for shooting Smith, and it troubled me. That was fifteen years ago a’most to aday, and I've had no rest nor peace since. I got reck- less and took to room, and here I am agoing to pass in my checks, a broken wretch, long be- fore my time.” * © * He talked for some time after this, but what he said concerns no one else, Shortly after I called the doctor, and the next day all that was left of poor “ Dare-Devil Jim” was lowered into that vast wandering grave—the Sea, ‘The memorandum he had given me was a rude, weather-stained bit of coarse yellow paper, with a rough drawing on it of a mean-looking hut, close to which stood a stunted tree beneath which was written: “ Smirn’s Grav: The description of the locality was remark- ably minute, even the approximate longitude and latitude being given; the former being 108 west from Greenwich, or 31 from Washington; the latter 4o latitude. The State, Colorado, and the scene of the tragedy in the Chatopooka Pass, Pike's Peak. * * * The rest of the voyage was rendered disa- greeable to most on board by a continuous succession of terrific gales, accompanied by strong head winds and rain. On the Banks of Newfoundland which they reached on Friday, their seventh day out, this state of matters was aggravated by a heavy fog and a particularly dirty ground smell, which laid most of the passengers on their back again, and kept them there most of the way to Sandy Hook. To Archie, however, the change of weather was welcome. After the fact of his parentage and station had leaked out he had been the subject of much prying curiosity and vulgar attention. Had he been in his ordinary health and spirits this would have troubled him little. Nay, in the absence of anything particular to do, and with abundance of time on his hand he might probably have rather enjoyed and taken ad- vantage of the opportunity for studying human nature thus afforded. But, as may well be be- lieved, he was not ‘i’ the humor,” and was glad to be freed from the importunities of the inquisitive. comicbooks.com