Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 118 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

-—— - - SS —_— a ee eS Oe ee > ee eee SS Eee = ee i et ee * 14. m+ eee — eee ee ee le eee me eee we -—--—- bought cheaply, but it was rarely that enomen powid be got out of them right away to pay the es. There were other chances for investment, but Jack could see none that re struck his fancy, 80 he headed for New York. On his arrival there he was surprised to learn that the liniment venture in which he had em- barked, a few years before, had grown into a business of enormous proportions, and that the doctor had grown independently rich out of it. Jack had suspected that he had been tricked, when he sold out so cheaply. After a week’s stay in the Metropolis, he pur- chased a half interest in a paying dry-goods business, for twenty thousand dollars; then in- vested another sum of twenty-five hundred in street railway stock in Philadelphia, which he had now chosen as his future home, He then went to Baltimore and purchased a pert orchard for three thousand dollars, and uilt a neat summer residence upon it. He then took a trip down to Lowell, to find that the Bonds had moved away, but was un- able to ascertain where they had gone, One lady labored under tho supposition that they gone upon a European tour, while another believed they had moved into some of the larger Western cities. Jack was area aie but, hopeful of finding them he set out for the West, and visited all the cities of any importance until he reached San Francisco, and examining the directories with- out the hoped-for result. The name of Bond proved to be an uncommon one, and nothing of the good rector and his daughter could Jack find. Discouraged at his ill-success, he began to look around him once more for a chance to speculate. Nothing offering, he joined a party of Califor- nians, who were going down into northern Mex- ico to dig for gold, hoping to be able to fight off the Greasers and reds until they could make their pile out of the rich mineral beds that lie unworked in the heart of Chihuahua. The party comprised Old Bill McKenzie, Cap. Doolittle, Jerry Renchan, Sam Piercy, Rattle- snake Rube and Bison Tom, besides Jack, mak- ing seven in all, well mounted and well armed. i) oumney down into Mexico was attended by no incident worthy of mention, and they ar- rived in the place selected for operations about the middle of October. It was ina solemn, deserted valley, through which a stream of water flowed, and around which a deep pinyon forest encircled gloomily. It was miles from any human habitation, Mc- Kenzie said, and they were in no danger of be- ing. disturbed by Greasers or reds. he bottom of the valley was bedded with white sand, several feet in depth, and in this McKenzie claimed was gold enough to repay them for their trouble in eee, This statement was soon veri by washin Pp ah amount of gold out of a pant O ; The gold-hunters before proceeding to settle operations built them a cabin, and each agreed that all the gold divided into equal shares among the seven would be the fair way of con- ducting the thing; each man to work eight hours a day, unless sick, and to skirmish for his own ‘“‘ chuck,” After the cabin was completed, and a day’s hunt had laid in enough deer-meat to last a month, they all set to work with pan and shovel in their search after the precious metal. A good trench had been constructed leading a small part of the valley stream into the sluice- boxes, thus making the washing process a great deal easier. The first day’s labor was highly gratifying, even beyond their most sanguine expectations, for the sands of the valley-bottom yielded the golden particles handsomely. On quitting work, they all assembled in the cabin. Bill McKenzie weighed the pe col- lection, and reckoned it worth fifty dollars to the share! ‘Oh! I tell ye, we’ve struck a bonanza!” he cried, jubilantly. “ As long as old Bill can salt away fifty a day, thar ain’t a-goin’ ter be no erumblin’ in this yere camp!” ‘‘Nary a time,” Rattlesnake Rube a ‘We've feathered our bed fust-class, an’ hev rot it all to ourselves, an’ ther first galoot as icks or turns traitor, shall be hung up fer buz- Be: chuck.” ape 4 + 0 one seemed to have any desire to e, and for six months they worked steadily in { that lone valley, without discovery or molestation. One morning at the end cf that time, Old Bill McKenzie came rushing into the cabin, fror ar early morning hunt, flushed and panting. eed. Jack Hoyle. “Git yer tools ready!” he cried, “‘fer there’s a gang o’ Greasers comin’ inter ther valley, an’ we've got ter fight fer it. We mustn’t give ther durned louts no quarter, or they’ll cut us all up inter mince-meat. Let every man remember that he’s fightin’ fer his gold an’ fer his Ser ge * The men accordingly armed themselves, and stationed themselves at the cabin loop-holes, ready to fight to the bitter end. The Greasers soon came charging down into the valley with yells and screeches—a dozen of them there were, well mounted and armed, and as ruffianly a looking crowd as is often met, even on the far frontier. ‘* Give it to ’em!” Old Bill yelled, as they came charging up. ‘* Every man pick his galoot, and POR the question to him in a skientific manner.” volley was accordingly poured into the Greasers’ ranks, and six tumbled from the sad- dle out of seven shots. The other six, evidently surprised at the sud- den attack, turned their horses and spurred back into the shelter of the pinyon forest, before the miners could get in a second blast. ‘That settles our hash!” Old Bill cried, grim- ly. ‘*We may as well pack up our traps and git ready to skin out.” “Why so?” Jack asked. ‘*‘Because we ken’t mine heer, enny more, I reckon, arter lettin’ them Greasers git shih They'll send for reinforcements, now, an’ in less’n two days, or three at furtherst, thar’ll be enough o’ ther blamed cusses heer ter lick us out root an’ branch. Our only course is to pucka- chee while we’ve got a chance.” “But mebbe we ain’t got even that,” Bison Benremarked. ‘‘ It’s likely only one o’ the gang has gone for reinforcements, while the rest re- main and look out for us.” **1 don’t keer a cuss about that,” Old Bill yee. not a darned cent. I kin outwit ’em er ducats. Fetch out the box o’ gold, an’ we'll divide it, an’ every galoot kin hev his sheer. I’ve did all ther minin’ I’m goin’ ter in this yere valley, an’ them as is goin’ ter Pas inate wi’ me, kin git ready twixt now and dark.” As none had any desire to remain behind with- out Bill McKenzie, there was a general decision to get out of the wilderness while they could. —— eee he box of gold was brought out, and contents | weighed into seven separate and ee divisions, They had mined one hundred and fifty-six days, and had averaged fifty dollarsa day apiece! ody to each man seven thousand and eight hun dollars in gold, or fifty-four thousand and six hundred icflace all told. After the division was made, each man pack- ed up such traps as he desired to take awa with him, and when night again came, Old Bill McKenzie led the retreat from the valley of gold, where they had so long toiled unmolested. Through the grim pinyon forest they silently stole upon their ho and by Old Bill’s clever planning avoided meeting with the Greasers. Early in July they left Mexico, arriving in San Francisco in August. CHAPTER XIII. OLD WORLD AND HOME AGAIN FOR GOOD! THE five years of his exile now being up, and being the possessor of a considerable fortune, Jack resolved to go to Philadelphia and purchase and fit him up a home, and then search again for the Bonds. He had long since given up the hope of re- deeming his father’s estates, and knowing that he had made money cnough to support him all the natural term of his life, he resolved to take Sites l d to the Centennial e accordi journeyed to the Centenni city, and ni a binigtaonta residence on an aristocratic and fashionable thoroughfare, which he furnished after a moderate style. He then began to wonder where he should next look for the Bonds. Impulse led him to take a trip down to Lowell, and while there he went to the cemetery and adorned his father and mother’s graves with several costly and appropriate ornaments. Going to Boston, he engaged ge in a steamer for Liverpool, and was safely landed, a | few weeks later, in the city of London. After viewing the sights in this city, and sur- | roundings, he visited Paris, but soon got dis- | gusted with the French, and departed for Milan. — One evening as he was at the theater to hear | a noted singer, an usher brought him a note be the request that he immediately call upon the Mile. Lcrina, behind the scenes. : Not a little surprised, he followed the usher to the green-room, and beheld there, waiting to | greet , and looking royally beautiful in her | eostly stage attire, one whom he would quicker | OFF FOR THE —_— SE ——--< em nn ea ee —— | have expected to find at the antipodes—little Lily Thorpe, whom he had once had as a per- former in his circus. “Oh! Mr. Hoyle, I am so glad to see you!” she exclaimed, ape out her jeweled hand. © ‘*T peeped from behind the curtain, and recog- nized you as one of the audience, and could not resist the temptation to call you. Will you re- main here? J waift to talk with you after the opera.” ‘ Of course Jack could do no less than ecmy)" and then the operatic star danced gayly awzsy, , and soon after Jack heard her clear admiiai . voice, accompanied by the strains of an oper: tir orchestra. tater there was applause, and the» Mile. Lorina re-entered the green-rocm. ‘“‘Have I tired you? If solamsorry. The audience never knows when to stop applauding, you know. Come! my carriage awaits at the stage door. I shall appoint you my chaperon home,” | So Jack os her to the grand hotel where she stopped, and promised to call on the | ene aah day. He did so, and they had a long chat, together. ‘‘T came to Milan to learn to be a singer,” | she Fron in answer to Jack’s inquiries, “T had saved enough money to defray my ex- nses for a year, and in that time I progressed | avorably, and you now see me enjoying the honors of a star. Jack very much enjoyed the renewal of her acquaintance, but a telegram summoned him back to America. It was from Bessie Bond and stated that she was ill in Philadelphia, and | desired to see him. So he bade adieu to Lorina, and took the train for Havre where he struck the steamer home- ward bound. | The weather was very rough, and the steam- | — labored very severely in the mid-ocean, but finally made New York harbor, safely. | Jack immediately went to the depot for Phila delphia trains, to purchase a ticket. he was paying his fare, a young lady. deep vailed stepped up and called for a ticket for Philadelphia, also. | The moment he heard her speak, Jack thought | he recognized the voice, and watched her from a respectful distance until he saw her goaboard the ferry, when he followed her, hoping she | would raise her vail. But she did not, even when she took a seat in | the Philadelphia train. Resolved to test his suspicion, Jack approach: | ed her, and raising his hat courteously, said: ‘Perhaps I am mistaken, but is this not Miss _ Bond, formerly of Lowell?” ‘‘T am Miss Bond, yes, sir,” a faint voice re plied. ‘‘But I do not recognize you, sir.” . fea if you were to raise your vail, you might make-me out to be Jack Hoyle,” Jack re- plied, with a smile. The vail was thrown back instantly, ely | Bessie’s pretty face, and a soft white han sought the young ‘ulator’s. “Jack! Jack! Is it really you? I am so glad!” Bessie cried. ‘‘I have been wishing so much you would come back.” ‘‘ Well, I’ve been hunting for you, and the mo- ment I received your telegram, announcing your illness, I hastened back from Europe.” ‘*My illness? my telegram?” Beale exclaimed, putting up her hands. “‘ Why I haven’t written a telegram announcing any illness on my part.” “The deuce you haven’t! Didn’t you send me this?’ and Jack seated himself beside her, ry gave her the dispatch he had received in an. Bessie looked it over, and shook her little head. ‘No. I did not send it. We have been living here in New York, until poor died, four months ago. 1 was going to Philadelphia to-day to accept a position as saleswoman in a store,” ‘Well, you may go, and I will install you as mistress of my household as soon as a Clergy- man can tie a knot. Eh? what do you say that, my sweet one?” We will not chronicle the answer, but state that there wasa quiet wedding a few weeks later, in which Jack and Bessie were the partici- nts, Peon sending a detective to the house in Pbil- a where he hau been telegraphed to come to, Jack found that the Tremaines had been there, but had gone. What — they had con- templated he could not tell, for he never heard of them again. Here we leave Jack and his wife enjoying themselves on the wealth that Jack’s persever- ance and ind had accumulated. _ Long may he, and ali other boys of his stamp, live and prosper! —— EE Oe eee Oe Or 3 Seah IOORS Corn