Dane Coolidge

“ There was a celebration that day which warmed Denver’s heart and sent Slogger Meacham cursing out of the camp, but as soon as it was over and he had his prize money in his hand Denver remembered his unguarded claim. Bunker Hill was there, of course, but the spiteful Professor had heralded his pledge afar; and a man who has promised his wife not to fight is ill-fitted to herd a mine. No, the Silver Treasure lay open for Dave or Murray to jump, if they felt like contesting his claim; and, weak as he was, Denver took no rest until he was back where he could fight for his own. ”

“ The lizards gasped for breath, Drusilla ceased to sing, all Pinal seemed to palpitate with heat; but through heat and rain one song kept on–Denver’s song of steel on steel. In the cool of his tunnel he drove up-holes and down, slugging manfully away until his round of holes was done and then shooting away the face. As the sun sank low he sat on the dump, sorting and sacking the best of his ore; and one evening as he worked Drusilla came by, walking slowly as if in deep thought. ”

“ The sun rose up higher, the heat waves began to shimmer and the landscape to blur before his eyes; and then an automobile came thundering up behind him and halted on the flat.
“Get in!” called the driver throwing the door open hospitably; and in an hour’s time Denver was set down in Moroni, but with the fever still hot in his brain. His first frenzy had left him, and the heat madness of the desert with its insidious promptings to violence; but the sense of injustice still rankled deep and he headed for Murray’s store. ”

“ There was nothing of the singer about her now, nor of the filmy-clad barefooted dancer; the jagged edge of old Pinal would permit of nothing so effeminate. Yet, over the rocks as on the smooth trails, she had a grace that was all her own, for those hillsides had been her home.
“Well, how’s the millionaire?” she inquired with a smile that made his fond heart miss a beat. “Is this the way you do it? Are you just going to drill one hole?”
“That’s the dope,” replied Denver, “sink it down ten feet and blow the whole bank off with one shot. It’s as easy as shooting fish.” ”

“ His heart sank at that, for the name of “ex-convict” is something that cannot be laid. No matter what the crime or the circumstances of the trial, once a man is convicted and sent to prison that name can always be hurled at him–and Denver knew that he was not guilty.
He had no recollection of even drawing his gun, to say nothing of striking at Meacham; and yet Chatwourth and his gang would swear him into prison if something was not done to stop them. ”

“ Tom Owen was a good man, and he was also a good driller, but there was one thing that Denver held against him–he had been a drinking man when Arizona was wet. And a man who has drunk, no matter when, is never quite the same in a contest. He has lost that narrow margin of vital force, those last few ounces of strength and stamina which win or lose at the finish. Yet even at that he was a better man than Meacham, who had laid down like a yellow dog. Denver remembered that too and when he found his man he told him they were due to win. ”

“ I should have taken the gold.”
“No; listen Denver,” she went on patiently, “and don’t always be thinking of things. A golden treasure isn’t necessarily of gold, it might be even–me.”
“You?” echoed Denver and then he clutched his hands and stared about him wildly.
“Why, yes,” she answered evenly, “haven’t you noticed my hair? Other men are not so blind–and one of them said it reminded him of fine-spun gold. Yes, I was the golden treasure in the shadow of Apache Leap, but all you could think of was mines. ”

“ Denver turned to the Mexican who, with two heavily-packed mules, stood patiently awaiting his pleasure; and with a brief nod of the head he strode down the trail while the mules minced along behind him. Past the old, worked-out mine, past the melted-down walls of abandoned adobe ruins, he led on to the store and the cool, darkened house which sheltered the family of Andrew Hill; but even here he did not stop, though Old Bunk beckoned him in. His life, which had once been as other people’s lives, had been touched by the hand of fate ”

“ He was a fine figure of a man, tall and straight as an Apollo, and yet he was a hobo. Never before had Bunker Hill seen a better built man or one more open-faced and frank, but he came down the trail with the familiar hobo-limp and Bunker set his jaws and waited. It was such men as this, young and strong and full of blood, who had kept him poor for years. Hobo miners, the most expert of their craft, and begging their grub on the trail! ”

“ A weight like that of Pelion and Ossa seemed lifted from Denver’s shoulders as he hurried down from Apache Leap and, with his wallet in his hip pocket, he strode straight to Bunker’s house. The eagle had chosen for him, and chosen right, and the last of his troubles was over. There was nothing to do now but buy the claim and make it into a mine–and that was the easiest thing he did. Pulling ground was his specialty–with a good man to help he could break his six feet a day–and now that the choice had been made between the treasures he was tingling to get to work. ”

“ THE PROPHECY
“You will make a long journey to the West and there, within the shadow of a Place of Death, you will find two treasures, one of Silver and the other of Gold. Choose well between them and both shall be Yours, but if you choose unwisely you will lose them Both and suffer a great disgrace. You will fall in love with a beautiful woman who is an artist, but beware how you reveal your affection or she will confer her hand upon Another. ”

“ There was music that evening in the Bunker Hill mansion but Denver Russell sat sulking in his cave with no company but an inquisitive pack-rat. He regretted now his curt refusal to join the Hills at supper, for Drusilla was singing gloriously; but a man without pride is a despicable creature and Old Bunk had tried to insult him. So he went to bed and early in the morning, while the shadow of Apache Leap still lay like a blanket across the plain, he set out to fulfill his contract. Across one shoulder he hung a huge canteen of water, on the other a sack of powder and fuse ”

“ Back in New York last year there was a perfectly huge man and he had a hammer as big as yours that he swung with both hands while he sang. You reminded me of him when I saw you working–don’t you get kind of lonely, sometimes?”
“Too busy,” replied Denver turning to pick up another rock, “don’t have time for anything like that.”
“Well, I wish I was that way,” she sighed after a silence and Denver smote ponderously at the rock.
“Why don’t you work?” he asked at last and Drusilla’s eyes flashed fire.
“I do!” she cried, “I work all the time! ”

“ Nor would he return to Mother Trigedgo’s boarding house, for her prophecies had ruined his life.
157He worked on for a week, trying to set his mind at rest, and then a prompting came over him suddenly to go back and see Drusilla. If death must come, if some friend must kill him, in whose hands would he rather entrust his life than in those of the woman he loved? Perhaps it was all false, like the rest of the prophecy, the gold and silver treasures and the rest; and if he was brave he might win her at last and have her for more than a friend. ”

“ But as Denver came opposite his mine a sinister thing happened–a head rose up against the black darkness of the tunnel and a man looked stealthily out. Then he drew back his head like some snake in a hole and Denver stopped and stared. A low wall of rocks had been built across the cut and the man was crouching behind it–Denver jogged down and turned up the trail. A glimpse at Pinal showed the streets full of automobiles and a huddle of men by the store door, and as he rode up towards his mine Bunker Hill came running out and beckoned him frantically back. ”

“ It’s all right, perhaps, if you’re just breaking rocks, or digging dirt in some mine; but I’m trying to become a singer and you can’t succeed that way–work will get you only so far!”
“’S that so!” murmured Denver, and at the unspoken challenge the brooding resentment of Drusilla burst forth.
“Yes, it is!” she exclaimed, “and, just because you’ve struck ore, that doesn’t prove that you’re right in everything. I’ve worked and I’ve worked, and that’s all the good it’s done me–I’m a failure, in spite of everything.” ”

“ They came on together, a team hard to match; Meacham stripped to the waist, his ponderous head thrust forward, the muscles swelling to great knots in his arms. His partner wore the heavy, yellow undershirt of a miner, his trousers draped low on his hips; and to hold them up he had a strand of black fuse twisted loosely in place of a belt. He was a hard, hairy man, with grim, deep-set eyes and a jaw that jutted out like a crag and as he raised his hammer to strike Denver saw that he was out to win.
“Go!” called the umpire and the hammer smote the drill-head till it made the blue granite smoke ”

“ But I’ll fool you, old-timer; I’ll just serve my term out and then–well, I’ll get back my mine.”
“Is that a threat?” demanded Murray but Denver only smiled and toyed with his heavy hammer. “Because if it is,” went on Murray, “just for self-protection, I’ll see that you don’t get out.”
“No, it isn’t a threat,” answered Denver quietly. “If I wanted to kill you I’d swing this sledge and knock you on the head, right now. No, I don’t intend to kill you; but a man would be a sucker to play right into your hands.” ”

“ Bible-Back Murray paused and looked him over, and his prospector’s pick and ore-sack, and a glint came into one eye. The other eye remained fixed in a cold, rheumy stare, and Denver sensed that it was made of glass.
“Who are you working for?” rasped Murray and as he raised his voice the guard started down the dump.
“I’m not working for anybody,” answered Denver boldly, “I’m out prospecting along the edge of the rim.” ”

“ He stepped into the tunnel and there, across the face, was a four inch vein of the ore. It lay between two walls, as a fissure vein should; but the dip was almost horizontal, following the level of the uptilted strata. Except for that it was as ideal a prospect as a man could ask to see–and for sale for five hundred dollars! A single ton of the ore, if it was as rich as it looked, ought easily to net five hundred dollars.
Denver knocked off some samples with his prospector’s pick and carried them out into the sun. ”

“ He must turn away from the silver treasure, that precious vein of metal which led so temptingly into the hill, and take the little stringer of quartz which the Professor had offered as a gold mine. Denver thought it all over out in front of his cave that night and at last he came back to the prophecy.
“Courage and constancy,” it said, “will attend you through life, but in the end will prove your undoing, for you will meet your death at the hands of your dearest friend.” ”

“ Yet at thirty cents a pound copper was almost a precious metal, and a report from the smelter would be a check. He would know from that how the ore really ran and how much he would be penalized for the zinc. So he picked out the best of it and broke it up fine, for the rough chunks would not do to sack; and before he had more than got started with his sampling the sun had gone down behind the ridge. And he was tired–too tired to eat.
There was music that night at the big house below but Denver could not hold up his head. ”

“ And so, of course─”
“Oh, do you believe in those people?” she inquired incredulously, “I thought─”
“But not this one!” spoke up Denver stoutly, “I know that the most of them are fakes. But this Mother Trigedgo, she’s a regular seeress–and it’s all come true, every word! Apache Leap up there is the place of death. I came west after that fellow that robbed me; and this mine here and that gold prospect of the Professor’s are both in the shadow of the peaks!” ”

“ There are some kinds of questions which require no answers and others which answer themselves. Denver had asked Bunker what he meant when he refused Drusilla’s address and intimated that he was unworthy of her friendship, but after a gloomy hour in the deepening twilight the question answered itself. Bunker had taken his daughter across the desert, on her way to the train and New York, and his curt remarks were but the reflex of her’s as she discussed Denver’s many transgressions. ”

“ It floated away in a lilting diminuendo, a joyous, mocking refrain; and long after the night was quiet again the music still ran through his head. It possessed him, it broke his sleep, it followed him in dreams; and with it all went the vision of the singer, surrounded like St. Cecilia with a golden halo of light. He woke up at dawn with a fire in his brain, a tumult of unrest in his breast; and like a buck when he feels the first sting of a wound he turned his face towards the heights. ”