The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

THE. GOLD: GLEANERS. her. By a. stern effort of the will she forced herself onward. The alley between: the serrred’ rows was black with shadow, yet she turned into it and traversed it with flying: feet. Breathiess, she halted at Tank Ten, the faint. ripple of running water striking on her ears. By this time she was almost wild with apprehension, but fear for her father was stronger than fear for any dangers that. might threaten herself, Back and forth around the tanks crosswise of the two rows she began weaving her way, and in a few mo- ments tripped over some object on the ground and fell to her knees. “ Padre!” she whispered, still kneel- ing and groping with her hands. Her fingers rested on a human form, the form of a man. A gasp of horror escaped her, but instantly she was re- assured. ‘he form moved slightly, and the flesh of the face was warm to her touch. “ Padre!” padre?” | An incoherent sound was returned to her. As her trembling fingers. passed gently over the man’s face she felt a cloth covering his: lips. The cloth was knotted at the baek of the head, and she untied it and drew it:away. “Is it you, ‘Teresa? ”’ came the voice of her father. “Yes, yes!” she answered tremu- lously. ““ What has happened? Are vou hurt? Tell me!” “ Gracias a Dies!” gasped Gonzales: “quick, little daughter! Untie these ropes from my hands. The Sefior Whip- ple is in danger—he may be dead! ” “Dead? ” echoed the girl in a voice full of terror and surprise. “ No, no!” “Untie my hands, I tell you,” cried Gonzales; “ there is no time for words. Dios mio, if they have killed the man- ager! And I lying here so helpless. It was Chombo—I saw him—and Sefior Jeffries, and I know not who else. Hasten, Teresa! ” Teresa’s nervousness made her awk- ward, but finally she had her father’s hands free, and he himself removed the ropes from his ankles. | “My lantern,” he muttered; “ah, here it is!” His hand fell upon it she said; “is it you, C. OuUgle ¥ 109 ‘where it lay overturned beside him. “ Now for a light, and: then to find the manager.” Striking a mateh, Gonzales touched the flame to the wick and sprang up, the lighted lantern in: his hand. “Where was Senor Whipple, father?” asked Teresa. “ What hap- pened to him? ” She half-sobbed the words, but Gon- Zales paid no attention. Flashing the light about him, he raeed along the path between the rows of tanks, Teresa close behind. “They were here,” panted:the watch- man, halting at the end of the path. * Madre nua! Look, Teresa! There was a struggle—I heard it, and I could do nothing. See how the earth is beaten down! And there 1s his hat, Senor Whipple’s hat! And. blood—Madre de (‘ristos, there is blood! ” ‘Teresa. was crying: the excitement, her overwrought nerves, and perhaps fear for the manager were more than she could bear. “flush! Listen!” Gonzales laid a trembling hand on lis daughter’s shoul- der. “ The cyanide is running m the empty tank ° Teresa bounded to the incline that led to the gangway, flew to the top of Tank Ten, and knelt down on the plank that crossed it from rim to rim. ‘“* Flere!” she cried. “ He is here, father! ” The next instant, all unconscious of her own peril, Teresa had thrown aside her rebosa and dropped splashing into the vat. Her father would have stayed her had he been near enough, for he well knew the dangers of the “ White Death.” Throwing himself down along thé plank, Gonzales dipped his lantern into the murk below. What he saw brought a wild cry to his lips. Whipple, his hands bound behind him, was sitting on the bottom of the tank. his back to the curved wall. The slowly rising flood of solution had al- most reached his waist. His hair was matted over his forehead, his clothe- were soggy and torn, and at his breast was a stain of livid red. | “He lives, father!” cried Teresa. a wild joy thrilling in her voice. (COL —__) __) LY A LOOOLK COL