CHAPTER IIITHE ACCIDENT
When the party reached the yacht, Mr. Dalken said that chairs had been placed on the forward deck where they could sit and watch the scenes at night, as they sailed up to the City. So all but Tom and Polly went forward and found comfortable seats. Tom had asked Polly to stroll about with him, and she, feeling guilty of neglecting such an old friend when on the steamer, consented.
Thus it happened that Tom led her to the side of the craft where they had climbed the ladder to the deck, as this side was in shadow and farthest from the group of friends who were seated on the forward deck.
But they had not promenaded up and down many times, before the Captain gave anxious commands to his crew. Every man jumped to obey, instantly, while Tom and Polly halted intheir walk just at the gap in the rail, where the adjustable ladder had been lowered to the boat when the passengers arrived from the steamer. The steps had been hauled in but the sailor had forgotten to replace the sliding rail. In the dense fog this neglect had been overlooked.
Immediately following the Captain’s shouts, a great hulk loomed up right beside the yacht, and a fearful blow to the rear end of the pleasure craft sent her flying diagonally out of her path, across the water. The collision made her nose dip down dangerously while the stern rose up clear of the waves.
The group seated forwards slid together, and some were thrown from their chairs, but managed to catch hold of the ropes and rail to prevent being thrown overboard.
Polly and Tom, standing, unaware, so near the open gap in the rail, still arm in arm as they had been walking, were thrown violently side-ways and there being nothing at hand to hold to, or to prevent their going over the side, they fell into the dark sea.
Feeling as if the earth had dropped from under her, Polly screamed in terror before her voice was choked with water. Tom instinctively held on to her arm, as he had been doing when the impactof a larger vessel came upon the yacht, and he maintained this grip as they both sank.
Polly had always dreaded water, because it seemed so unfamiliar to her. After living in the mountains with only narrow roaring streams, or the glacial lakes found in the Rockies, she had never tried to swim in the ocean, but preferred swimming in a pool. Consequently, this sudden dive into the awesome black abyss so frightened her, that she fainted before she could fight or struggle.
But Tom Latimer was an expert swimmer, having won several medals while at College for his continued swimming under water. At one time during his first college days, he had saved the lives of some young folks when their canoe capsized a long distance from shore. In this supreme test of ability and presence of mind, with the girl he loved in his arms to save, Tom was as self-possessed as if on deck with Polly.
In less time than it takes to tell, both victims of the collision sank until the natural fight between the weight of the water and the force of the air in their lungs, sent them up again to the surface. In that short time, Tom used every muscle and physical power to swim far enoughunderthe water to clear away from the boatswhich might do them more harm than the water.
Fortunately he found the surface free when he rose for breath, and finding no resistance from the unconscious form he held, he managed to change his grip from her arm to a firm hold under the shoulders. In this position he could manage to keep Polly’s head above water, and at the same time, could swim backwards, by using his feet as propellers.
The only handicap he now had, was his clothing and shoes; these interfered with his free action in swimming so he managed to kick off his dancing pumps. The greatest danger he feared, was the sudden coming of some craft that would compel him to dive again, or might even run them down, unseen in the dark.
But the very fog that had caused this accident, also befriended them now, as no wary seaman would recklessly go on his way in such a bewildering mist, and the majority preferred waiting for a temporary lifting of the blanket, before continuing their journeys.
Tom felt no concern over the fact that Polly had fainted or had been in the water for a time, for he knew she was so healthy that no ill would occur to her from such causes. All he feared now, was his power of endurance to keep floatinguntil some craft might pick them up, or he could reach a temporary rest.
Suddenly he felt a sweeping current whirl him about and in another moment, he was swimming rapidlywithinstead ofagainstthe tide in the Bay. He realized that in that short time the tide had turned, either about some point of land, or in the River. He began to tread water while he tried to lift his head and gaze across the waves. Then a broad shaft of dazzling light shot across the Bay from a nearby reflector. At the same time Tom heard the tolling of a bell-buoy, not very far distant.
He changed his course that the outgoing tide would assist him in reaching this light that might be coming from a ship, or maybe, from an island in the Bay. As his powerful strokes carried him along, the sound of the bell-buoy seemed to come so plainly that he felt sure it was not far away. If he could but hang on to it for a time, in order to gain second wind!
Suddenly there was a momentary lift of the heavy fog, and he discovered he was quite near Bedloe’s Island. The powerful search light had reflected from the arc held aloft in the hand of the Goddess of Liberty; and the light that danced upon the waves all about him came from thesmaller arcs which were placed along the sea-wall of the Island.
The current now carried him helplessly past the pier where the boats from the Battery land, but just as he tried to lift his head once more and yell for help, a motor boat was heard chugging through the fog. His cry was heard by those in the boat, and in a few moments the flash-light in its prow was blinding Tom because of its proximity.
A chorus of amazed voices now mingled with the noise of the water dashing against the wall and the ringing of the buoy, and Tom began to feel faint and dazed. But almost before he knew what was happening, a powerful grip caught him on his thick hair, and he was dragged partly out of the water.
A commanding voice shouted: “Help grab the girl—we’ll take care of the man!”
Then Tom heard no more, nor indeed, knew more until he indistinctly heard a far-off call of “Guard! Guard!” Then he opened his eyes to find he was on the solid earth, once more. Polly was stretched out on the sand. The Guards tumbled out of the barracks and rushed for the spot where the officer stood calling.
While a few of the boys lifted and half carriedTom to the general assembly room, others ran to assist the boatman with the girl. She was carefully conveyed to the barracks and the doctor sent for. Meantime the men applied the Schaefer Method to both the strangers; Tom instantly recovered himself fully but Polly’s faint lasted longer.
When the doctor hurried in, his kindly wife followed. Tom was able to sit up and tell the story of how the accident happened; then he begged someone to notify the Wharf Police to keep a lookout in the Harbor as there might be a yacht in distress after that collision. Also, if inquiry was made at Police Headquarters, the news was to be given that both Polly and he were safe on Liberty Island.
A Corporal of the Guard was sent to attend to these messages, and Tom was taken to a cot in the ward of the Barracks. His wet clothing was removed and he was rolled in a hot blanket and given hot lemonade. In a few moments he was sound asleep.
Polly was taken to the doctor’s cottage where his wife attended the patient as well as any trained nurse could have done. The girl also was rolled in warm blankets with hot-water bottles placed about her cold body. Slowly she began to show more animation, and when she could speak, she asked if Tom was saved.
TOM AND POLLY ARE RESCUED.Polly’s Business Venture.Page 39
“Yes, dear; you both are safe now,” replied Mrs. Hall.
“And can we get word——” began she.
“We have taken care of that, too, dear. Now try to drink this nice hot lemonade and then go to sleep.”
Polly obediently drank the hot drink and sighed in relief. Then she sank back and, almost instantly, Nature claimed her rights to make up for the unwonted interference with her customary routine.
Mrs. Hall sat beside the cot for some time after Polly was asleep, but she finally succumbed to weariness, and finding her patient fully recovered and warm, she threw herself upon a nearby cot.
Both young people slept late in the morning, and when Tom finally opened his eyes, feeling a bit stiff in his joints, he had to collect his thoughts to remember where he was. Like a flash, everything came back, and he jumped up to dress and find out how Polly was.
His suit had been dried and pressed and hung over a chair beside the cot. His dress-coat seemed ridiculously out of order after that swimand, now, for the morning’s work. But he smiled as he donned the clothes, and started for the door of the long room.
Just as Tom reached the door one of the men entered and greeted him warmly. “I see you’re all right again!”
“Yes, thank you. I hope the little girl is feeling as well,” ventured Tom, anxiously.
“Doctor Hall just left her and says she is right as a fiddle. I’m the young fellow that telephoned the Police for you. I got back word, early this morning, that your folks finally got home, without any harm to anyone. And say! Maybe there wasn’t some joy when they heard you two were safe with us!”
Tom felt a strange gripping at his throat, and his voice quavered as he replied: “Iknowthere was!”
The young man glanced at the evening dress and then said, “I’m going to loan you one of my long coats to cover those togs.”
Tom responded gratefully, and said: “If I can only do as much for you boys some time!”
“Say,” laughed the soldier, “don’t wish such an experience on any of us!”
Then both laughed. As they reached the housewhere Polly had spent the night, the doctor opened the door and smiled. When he saw that Tom was feeling as good as ever, he said: “I just hung up the ’phone. A gentleman called ‘Dalken’ told me that they were all coming over to take you away. But I warned him that the entire party would be arrested if they landed on Government Ground without a permit.
“Then I remembered that he might secure a permit, so I said: ‘Anyway, before you people can get here, my patients will be on their way to the Battery.’ I said that, because the young lady ought to be kept perfectly quiet all morning, after such a fearful experience, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” admitted Tom. “And I am glad you said what you did.”
“Now we had her dress dried and pressed, and the little miss will be up and ready to thank you for your courageous deed, in an hour or so,” explained the doctor, significantly.
“Thank you, ever so much!” said Tom, grasping his hand.
“Let Ted, here, show you about the place and entertain you until it’s time to call again,” suggested the doctor.
So Tom went away with his companion, not toexplore the Island, but to go to the telephone and have a long talk with his friends in the city, who were anxious to hear about the accident.
Just before noon, an orderly came to Tom to say that Mrs. Hall said, “Mr. Latimer could call, if he liked.” Tom laughed at the message—“if he liked.”
As he entered the little sitting-room of the doctor’s house, Tom tiptoed as if he felt he had to tread softly. But Polly sat in an arm-chair by the window and saw him coming. She jumped up and ran to the door to greet him, and Mrs. Hall went out of the room by the kitchen-door.
Tom was unable to speak a word when he finally came into Polly’s presence. She caught hold of his hands and shook them gladly, as she cried: “Oh, Tom! What do I not owe you after last night!”
Tom wanted to demand payment, but he knew that would ruin his chances forever, so he held a tight leash on his feelings and smiled wanly. Then he said in an unnatural tone: “Lucky for us both that I knew how to swim, eh, Polly?”
Polly was relieved to hear him speak in such a way, but her next act was the outgrowth of spontaneous gratitude. She flung both arms about his neck and being too short to reach his cheek, kissedhim on the chin as she would have done had he been John. Tom trembled, but realized at the same time, that Polly’s kiss meant nothing. Still he was humbly grateful for even that token of gratitude from the reserved girl.
“Now tell me, Tom dear, what did the folks say about our sudden elopement?” Polly laughed as she used the term.
“Oh, Polly! I’d swim from here to China for you if only it could be an elopement!”
The girl instantly took alarm, and looked about for Mrs. Hall. But Tom forced a laugh and tried to make her believe he was joking. “Do you think that any man would dothatfor a girl?” he added.
Then he hurried on to say that no one on the yacht had been injured by the collision, but they were hours in reaching their dock. He said that they (Polly and Tom) were not missed at first, and not until conditions had calmed down somewhat, did Eleanor call for Polly. Then it was found that neither Tom nor Polly were to be found.
“It was Eleanor who remembered seeing us promenade along the side where the rail was detachable, and it was Eleanor who said we must have been thrown out where the steps came up.So the captain was taken to task for having such a careless man on board, and both the man and the captain were discharged.”
“Poor man—it wasn’t his fault!” sighed Polly.
“Well, if you hadn’t recovered, I’d have sent him to jail for life, because it was criminal negligence to leave that rail open as it was!” was Tom’s threatening reply.
“I’m glad there is no cause for such harsh treatment,” responded Polly.
Tom gazed, with his soul in his eyes, as he breathed fervently: “You’re not half as glad as I am, darling!”
Polly sprang away at that, and ran to the window, saying: “Don’t you think we might start for the City? Mrs. Hall went to fetch a hat and wrap for me and she ought to be back by this time.”
CHAPTER IVA REUNION AND A VISITOR
Never was maiden welcomed so enthusiastically and so fervently, as Polly Brewster, that morning when she stepped from the launch to the sea-wall at Battery Park. Her father and mother vied with each other in embracing and kissing her, while the tears of happiness streamed from their eyes; John and Anne hovered beside them, watching every dear feature of Polly’s face. Eleanor stood holding fast to her best friend’s skirt, as if that could keep her forever near her.
The members in the “Delegation of Welcome,” acted as if they had been imbibing some intoxicating stimulant. Such happy laughter, and vehement demonstrations of joy and love because Polly was with them again, spoke louder than words that they had all thought she was drowned. Tom found that little fuss was made over him in the first exuberant greetings, but he came in for his share after the doctor had concluded his story about the valiant young rescuer.
“Now, Mr. Brewster, you pay attention to me,” remarked the physician, when he was ready to depart on the launch: “You take your daughter home, at once, and put her to bed for the rest of the day, to spare her any nervous reaction. Then, if she is all right tomorrow, you may allow her to receive a caller, or two—no more for the time being, or you will have her break down.”
Mr. Brewster promised to obey the orders faithfully, and soon afterwards, Polly’s friends followed her and her parents to the automobiles which were waiting near the curb of the Park. Tom was surrounded, on both sides and fore and aft, by his family and John and Mr. Dalken, all of whom wished to hear the thrilling story of the rescue again.
“I’d rather hear how you folks kept afloat after that boat rammed the yacht,” said he, shunning a subject that still made him shudder.
Mr. Dalken insisted that Tom with his father and mother get into his luxurious limousine and let him drive them home. On the way uptown, Mr. Dalken told the story of their narrow escape from being lost in the Bay after the collision.
“Immediately after the yacht was rammed and we could collect our senses to comprehend what had happened, and what to do, the old tub of aferry-boat kept on her course. But there were some worried citizens on board, for they shouted and, finally, the captain stopped his engines and blew the whistles to see if we needed help.
“Fortunately for us, a river tug was quite close at hand when the accident occurred, and its captain called through a megaphone to say that he would assist us in any way we commanded.
“Our Captain then ascertained that part of our gear had been shaken out of place, and it would be dangerous for him to try to run the vessel under her own power, and trust our steering gear. So the good old man on the tug took us in tow and landed us, towards dawn, at our dock.
“The moment we were on land, I rushed to the telephone at the Yacht Club house, and notified Police Headquarters. Ken Evans was an eye-witness to the dive that we feared had cost Polly and you your lives; so we told the Sergeant at the Station just about where you went down.
“The Bureau at Battery Park was ’phoned but they said the tide was running out at that time, so you both would be carried past Bedloe’s Island; if you both were good swimmers there was a slight hope of your being rescued.
“I tell you, Tom, we were almost frantic with joy and relief when word came from Liberty Islandthat you both were safe in bed, there, without injury or other hurt, excepting the shock. Polly’s mother swooned and we thought she was gone because it was so long before we could revive her.”
Tom’s mother sat holding her boy’s hand within her own, and his father smiled at him so often that Tom began to feel fussed. But Mr. Dalken laughed at his apparent self-consciousness.
“Tom, my boy, grin and bear this ordeal for the time, as you may never in your life, have another experience like it. It shows you what we all think of you, to sit and idolize you in this fashion.”
They laughed at the banter, but Tom felt more at ease after Mr. Dalken’s little speech.
Having arrived at his home, Tom rebelled against being kept quiet that day. “Goodness’ sakes, mother! any one would think I was an invalid. Why, I feel better than I have in months!” and his happy gayety attested to his spirits. But no one knew that he was joyous because Polly had kissed him that morning. And he was sure that thatsomethinghe had detected in her eyes, was the awakening of love, instead of the fervent gratitude it really was.
Tom could not settle down to do anything thatday, but he called John up on the ’phone several times to ask about Polly. John patiently replied each time, that Polly was fast asleep and would probably remain so, for several hours more, because she required it. When Tom asked if he had better come down that evening and call, John was most emphatic in his refusal.
But the following day, Tom kept telephoning the Brewsters every little while and Anne finally capitulated and invited him to call that evening.
Polly was fully recovered again, with no signs of the shock or soaking she had received; so, when Tom was announced by the telephone girl in the hotel office, she felt no undue nervousness.
“Anne, you are going to help entertain Tom, aren’t you?” said she, casually patting her hair down neatly.
Anne looked at her sister-in-law with an amused smile. “If you think you will need a chaperone when such an old friend calls. Tom always seems more like a brother than a young man who might turn out to be a beau, some day.”
Polly pondered this sentence for a time, then said: “Well, there’s no telling what he may think after that ducking, you know, so it will be more comfortable to have you about.”
Tom fully expected a warm welcome fromPolly, and perhaps, another flash of something akin to love that he thought he had detected in her deep blue eyes, when he met her in the hospital. So he was more than chagrined to find Polly smile friendily upon him as she took his hand in the same manner that she would have taken Mr. Dalken’s.
“I just thought I would bring in a little glow with me, Polly,” remarked Tom, when he recovered self-possession again. “A few roses, such as I know you like.”
He handed a long box to Polly and watched eagerly as she cut the string and opened the lid of the box.
“Oh, Tom! American Beauties again! How lovely!” and she buried her face in the fragrant red petals that filled the one end of the box.
Anne held out her hand for the box when Polly went to place it on a chair. “I’ll hand them to mother, Polly, for her to arrange in a jar. The others that came yesterday, can be placed in another glass.”
“Oh, did Polly receive other roses?” asked Tom, trying to appear unconcerned, but flushing as he spoke.
“Why, didn’t you send them to me? There was no card in the box, but you always send AmericanBeauties, Tom,” exclaimed Polly, in surprise.
Tom laughed sheepishly. “Well, I did send them, Polly, but I thought I would make you guess who it could have been. I never dreamed you would give me credit for the roses.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It would have seemed queer if you hadn’t sent flowers, when everyone within a thousand miles, sent boxes and bouquets to me, all yesterday and all day today.”
“They did! What for?” asked Tom, wonderingly.
“What for? Why, goodness me! Don’t you suppose my friends weregladthat I wasn’t drowned,” retorted Polly, in amazement. “Everyone that ever knew me, sent love and flowers, so I never thought it strange that you sent me some, too.”
This was a hard slap for Tom, and he winced under the words which denoted that Polly considered him only as one of many friends. Even the roses presented that night, with a little heart-shaped card tied in the center of the group of stems, now seemed useless in his eyes.
But Polly had not removed the roses from the box so she failed to find the heart-shaped card that Tom had spent the whole afternoon in inditing. Anne gave the box to Mrs. Brewster, and whenthat sensible mother took the roses out, one by one, and found the card, she put it away with the cards that had come with other flowers. She also forgot to mention the card to Polly, so the girl never knew that Tom had written her of his undying love. As Anne replied, for Polly, to all the cards, Tom received the same sort of polite little note as others did, with Polly’s name and a “per A.B.” signed to it.
Finding Polly so self-possessed that evening, Tom pulled himself together with an effort, and tried to converse on various topics of general interest. Anne eagerly assisted in the conversation, so Polly listened without having much to say.
Tom tried to make Polly talk, too, but without success, so he became silent and left most of the entertaining for Anne to do. But even she found the task of finding subjects to interest two dumb people rather irksome, and she decided on acoup.
“Excuse me for a moment, please, while I see if John has returned with his father.” So saying, Anne ran from the room.
Polly sat up and watched her go as if her protector had turned traitor. She glanced at Tom in a half doubtful manner as if to ask what he would do now with the chaperone out of the way?
But Anne’s absence gave Tom’s morbid senses an inspiration that he acted upon without second thought. It was the best thing he could have done with Polly in this baffling mood.
“I’m returning to Pebbly Pit, in a few days, Polly. I am actually homesick for a sight of the dear old mountains.”
Polly gasped. “Oh, no one told me you were leaving us. Jim told me that he thought you might remain here for several months.”
“Jim? What does that kid know about my affairs?” said Tom, impatiently. “Besides, when did you see Jim?”
“Oh, Jim just dropped in for a minute this afternoon.”
Tom felt the pangs of jealousy because his younger brother had been able to see Polly before she would allow him to call. Then he remembered his rôle to act the part of a platonic brother and friend.
Polly continued: “I think Jim is a dear boy. He is so fond and proud of you, too. Why, when he was here he sat and talked of nothing else but you and your loyalty to family, friends, and your work.”
As Polly spoke, Tom felt ashamed of his momentary jealousy of his brother. When she hadfinished speaking, he laughed and said: “What a pity Jim sees me through such fine magnifying glasses. The undesirable qualities in my character he never detects.”
“I think it is great to have your family think you are all that is wonderful! I think my family regard me as a saint, and I like it, too,” declared Polly.
“That’s because you are one, Polly dear,” retorted Tom, and the fervor he expressed in his eyes and voice, caused his companion to gasp.
Before Tom could follow up his sudden declaration and make Polly understand his sentiments for her, she broached another subject of conversation.
“Tom, what has been accomplished at the mine and at Rainbow Cliffs while I was in Europe?”
Tom frowned, but he realized that Polly was more sensible than he. He remembered, once more, what Anne had advised, so he choked the despondent sigh and replied instead, with seeming interest:
“Oh, John and I had another queer bout with some thieves. They were not after the land this time, but they planned to get at the ore and carry off as much of the gold as they could lay hands on. Our old friend, Rattlesnake Mike, caughtthem red-handed, and now they are serving a term in prison at hard labor.”
“Oh, Tom! I never heard a word of this!” cried Polly, eagerly. “Do tell me about it.”
CHAPTER VTHE RAID ON CHOKO’S FIND MINE
“You remember when we all came East last June to attend John’s wedding and see you off for Europe?” asked Tom.
Polly nodded eagerly but said nothing to interrupt him.
“Well, we remained longer than we had planned when we left Pebbly Pit. The friends in New York were so eager to entertain us before we went back home, that the days passed swiftly before we realized we had stayed on ten days longer than we should have done at that time.
“Now to go back to the time when those two rascals tried to jump your claim, the time your father and Mike guided the party when you-all climbed the Indian Trail to Grizzly Slide.
“It seems that crafty clerk who had copied the rough map of the claim you staked on Flat Top and filed in Oak Creek, never gave up hope of some day getting his hands on enough of that goldto help him get away and live comfortably, ever after, on the proceeds.
“When he learned that everyone of the family at Pebbly Pit, would be East for a few weeks, and the mine would be left in charge of Mike and the other employees, he immediately called a few cut-throats together and laid his plans accordingly.
“After the discovery of his perfidy in copying the claim papers and then trying to jump the staked claim, he had been discharged from the office in Oak Creek and, thereafter, no one respectable would employ him. So he hung about the saloon and spent his time in gambling with the miners from Up-Crest, back of Oak Creek station. He found willing confederates in this group of Slavs who hailed the invitation to steal enough gold to enable them to go back to Europe and pose as rich men.
“The whole plot had been kept unusually secret for that species of foreigner, so no one at Oak Creek knew of the proposed raid. But Mike rode into Oak Creek the morning before the night these rascals planned to act, and with his unusual gift of intuition, he felt that something was working quietly in the minds of the evil-looking men he found whispering over a small table in one corner of the saloon.
“Mike hung around for several hours to try and learn if any plot was hatching against Rainbow Cliffs while the owners were absent; or perhaps these men planned a rush on the mine while he and but few men were on guard. But nothing could be discovered. Feeling assured because of the sly and malicious expressions of the men at the table when they glanced at Mike, as he sat in another corner and pretended to doze, that Hank had some move under way to trouble him and his assistants, made the Indian use splendid judgment and action that day.
“He borrowed the Sheriff’s thoroughbred bloodhound, and asked for a few extra men to accompany him to the cave and stay there until the owners returned, promising them better wages than they could earn at any work in Oak Creek, or on the ranches nearby. To allay suspicion he rode out of town, alone, but he had agreed to wait at Pine Tree Blaze for the extra men.
“The men rode away from town each at a different time, to avoid talk or notice by the loungers at the saloon, and all met at the rendezvous that afternoon. Mike then led the way up the steep trail, and by dark they were in camp.
“This was the second day after we left PebblyPit. Mike had warned Jeb of his suspicions, too, and that wary little man had instantly taken steps to protect the Cliffs, by ordering all hands working there to keep away from Oak Creek until the Boss got home. He said that unusual care must be used for a time, to watch during the nights, and keep trespassers out during the day, for fear of raiders.
“The first night in camp on the mountains, Mike never rested a minute, but moved silently from one place to another, with senses keyed for some sign of the rascals. However, that first night passed quietly away. His extra men spent the evening in smoking and playing cards, then they rolled up in their blankets and snored peacefully the night through.
“The next day Mike smiled to himself when the men laughed at his suspicions. They were so far from any settlement and the mountains were so great and silent, that it gave them confidence in the peace and good will with all men.
“The second night the men were again playing cards near the camp-fire. Mike sat on the ledge in front of the cave with the hound stretched out on a slab of rock at his feet. The giant wooden flume could be faintly discerned, through the smoke of the fire and from the pipes of the men,not twenty feet away from the engines that worked it.
“Suddenly the hound lifted his head and pointed his ears. Mike leaned forward with face turned towards the flume, listening. Then he laid his pipe down on the rock and crawled away upon his hands and knees, followed closely by the hound.
“Do you remember the giant flume we planned to carry off the water of the river that flowed underground; the one into which Nolla and you dropped the torch the day you found the cave?”
Polly silently signified that she remembered, and Tom continued: “Well, we used that flume during the work of mining and washing trash from the ore, but at night, when there was no need for the water to pour through it, we turned the current down the other way on the opposite side of the mountain.
“Mike crept silently across the ledge and peered far down into the black chasm below, to ascertain if the suspicious sounds came from that pit. But the dog crawled noiselessly across the ledge to the flume and there he stood with tense nerves. His ears were erect and his tail was standing out straight behind him, as he stood and glared at the wooden flume.
“As the dog was so well-trained, Mike did not doubt his instinct, but crept over to his side and there waited and listened.
“Had he not been absolutely quiet, the faint sound of something moving inside that flume would have been lost on the outside. But Mike was as keen a hunter as his dog, and they both sensed that something very foreign to water was passing through that flume.
“Accompanying the strange muffled sound inside the flume every few moments, there came a different sound, as if something sharp was being driven into the wood for a hold. Mike figured out that the inside of the flume had been worn so slippery with the flood of waters and sand or pebbles passing through it in torrents, that it was necessary to use steel-pointed staffs and creepers to help anyone in the dangerous ascent.
“As soon as Mike felt convinced that someone was trying a new trick to gain possession of the mine, he crept back to the camp-fire and told the men of the sounds inside the flume. They laughed immoderately at Mike, and declared that he was going mad because of his prohibition since his employers left him in charge.
“But Mike ordered a few of his most trustworthyminers to guard the cave in front, while the others were sent over the top of the range to keep watch at the opposite entrance to the mine. You’ll remember, Polly, that that was the side where the pit cut the cave in half. We bridged that chasm, you know, and used the short-cut entrance quite often, although the ore was brought out through Choko’s Find.
“Mike then selected several of his brawniest fighters and very quietly led the way to the opening of the flume where the water-gate was located. As they could travel faster on the ground than the men creeping up inside the slippery wooden tube, Mike and his companions reached the water-gate before they heard the suspicious sounds from within the flume.
“He signalled his men to keep absolutely quiet, and then crept out on the lintel of the gate and got a firm purchase on the lever. No one dreamed of his purpose at the moment, and he suddenly seemed to reconsider his plan, for he crept back again and had just reached the trio of curious men, when a sigh of relief was distinctly heard from inside the flume.
“Then a whispering was heard, but not understood. In a few moments a grating sound as if some sharp tool was being used. Mike surmisedthat they were trying to break a way through the wooden door by which to get out.
“Without further delay, then, Mike threw open the lid in the top of the flume and commanded the trespassers to come forth.
“There was no reply from within, and not a sound was heard after Mike opened the lid. So he called again: ‘Ef yoh no come us wash riber fru dis pipe.’
“Still no reply or sound was heard, so Mike winked at his companions, and gave a fictitious order: ‘Frow water gate open!’
“‘Stop! Wait a minute!’ shouted a frightened voice from the flume.
“Another voice cursed in the most dreadful way, but soon after Mike’s order to turn in the water, four men managed to emerge from the tube and sit astride it.
“Seeing but four opponents there to fight, the leader of the gang gave a sign, and the daring raiders tried to over-power Mike and his three men. But they had not seen the wolf-hound in the shadows. As they dropped upon the men to fight them, the dog sprang out and drove his fangs deep into one rascal’s throat. He will carry those marks to his last day. It was a wonder he was not killed outright.
“That released Mike and he turned his attention to help his companions free themselves. The dog fought mightily, and after a short but fierce battle, the trespassers were bound and laid on the ground for the night.
“‘What’cha goin’ to do wid’dem, Mike?’ asked one of his men.
“‘Ship ’em down th’ flume, Mike, th’ way they come up,’ laughed another of his men.
“‘So me say, but Mike go jail fer kill man,’ replied the Indian.
“The other men strongly approved of that course of justice, however, and Mike had all he could do to keep them from following their inclination to wash the guilty men down the flume and out into Bear Forks River at the foot of the mountain.
“The next day Mike and his men drove the raiders down the steep trail and left them in the hands of the constable of Oak Creek, to await trial in the County Court. But the captured rascals had boon companions in Oak Creek, and when they learned that four of their group were in prison they started a regular riot.
“They tarred and feathered poor little Jeb the next time he drove in to Oak Creek for mail andsupplies, and a few days before we got back home, they made a well-planned raid on the lava mines at Rainbow Cliffs. Not a piece of machinery was left intact, and the great bags of jewels we had waiting for shipment were scattered far and wide by the vandals.
“But the sheriff heard of the proposed visit to Pebbly Pit, and took a possé of men to follow the drunken miners to the Cliffs. Such a battle as ensued, beggars my weak description. The sheriff told us about it when we got home, but his language is not very graphic, nor is it thrilling, so we only heard the bare facts of the fight.
“But, Polly, you must supply with your own vivid imagination, the details that may be missing from my account. When I tell you that the vandals were slowly backed away from the Cliffs and were, eventually, driven to the gully back of the Devil’s Causeway where those two men were engulfed in the slide, the day they came to cajole your father into signing papers for the Cliffs, you can picture their horror when the edge of the great cliff began to crumble in. They could not turn to right or left, as they were hemmed in by the pursuers, and they dared not remain where they were for fear of being swallowed in the quicksandthat was already sliding downwards. So they gave up to the sheriff and surrendered their guns.
“That was a bad case, as one of the sheriff’s men had been dangerously wounded and it was feared he would die. All our valuable machinery was ruined and all orders for the delivery of the lava jewels had to be cancelled, or postponed for a year. So the culprits each got twenty years and Oak Creek is quieter, by far, because more than a score of its worst citizens are safely housed in jail.”
As Tom ended his story, Polly unclasped her hands which she had nervously clenched during the recital of the raids on her precious property.
“Oh, Tom! I never dreamed of all the trouble everyone would have because of those precious mines, the day Nolla and I filed our papers at Oak Creek,” gasped Polly.
“No one does dream of these things—they only see the future in rosy hues,” retorted Tom.
“And to think of the work and worry John and you have had in establishing this great undertaking, while I was in Europe taking life easy, and spending money without a thought of how it was being produced at home!” sighed Polly.
“That is as it should be, Polly. You were notsquandering the money, but using it in ways to profit yourself for the future. John and I knew, when we started in on this mining venture, that the line would not lay in flower-strewn paths, but that it might force us over all sorts of snags, before we reached success.”
“Well, it is fine of you to talk like this, Tom,” admitted Polly, gratefully. “If it were not for you boys taking an interest in the work, I might as well say ‘good-by’ to the gold.”
Tom laughed. “Polly, this is so insignificant a work to do for you—just taking an interest in your mine. Some day I hope to prove in some greater way, just what I want to, and can, do for you.”
Tom’s manner and looks again alarmed Polly and she changed the subject adroitly. “Tom, do you like the home in Pebbly Pit? Isn’t it different from living in the city, in these apartments?”
Tom smiled, for he understood. “Yes, it is fine, Polly. It is a real home—with your blessed mother at the ranch-house. I have lived in adobe huts in Arizona, and out on sand wastes in New Mexico, you know, so that Pebbly Pit is great, in comparison.”
“Mother told me how good it was to have Anne and you with her all summer, while I wasabroad,” said Polly, after a short interval of silence. “I feel that it was not so heartless of me to enjoy myself in Europe as I did, so long as mother and father were not lonely and homesick for me.”
“But your mother often said to me, that were it not for Anne’s being with her, she would have cabled you to come home. She had looked forward so anxiously to your spending this vacation at Pebbly Pit,” remarked Tom.
“My! Then I was more fortunate than I dreamed of,” laughed Polly. “I should have hated to leave Eleanor in Europe, with such a wonderful tour before us, and come back home without having done the whole trip.”
Tom had no desire to hear more about that enjoyable tour and the probable acquaintance the girls had made with eligible young men with fascinating titles. So he spoke of his imminent departure for the West.
“I had a talk with Dad and Mr. Dalken today, and they think it best for me to get back at the mines without further delay. The mountain storms will soon be sweeping over the peaks, and winter protection must be completed at the Cave and Flume before then; so I think I shall be leaving in a day, or so.”
Polly murmured some friendly regret at his going so soon.
“But the need of my being at the mines to prepare for winter is not the main cause of my leaving New York, so soon,” began Tom, moodily. “I came East with a definite hope in mind, but so many unforeseen events have happened since I met you, that I haven’t furthered my interests since I left Pebbly Pit.” Tom waited for encouragement from Polly.
Polly did not pursue the subject, however, but she said: “Well, this winter, I have planned to actuallywork!”
“I thought you said you have been working ever since you came to New York,” laughed Tom.
“Yes, at school and in other ways; but now, I propose going to work in Mr. Ashby’s shop. You know, he has a wonderful place on Fifth Avenue where they have every kind of article one needs in the way of ornament or decorating. There is where Eleanor and I managed to get such splendid experience in textiles and other objects familiar to interior decorators.
“Now I propose going to work for him at a stated salary, and giving every morning to the work, this year. In the afternoons I will be free to visit Exhibitions, Museums, hunt up antiques,or just play. Four evenings every week we will attend school and lectures, you know, so there will not be very much time left in which to write letters.”
“You never did work hard at writing letters,” said Tom, smilingly.
“No, and this winter there will be even less time for them. My friends will have to be satisfied with picture post-cards or telegrams,” laughed Polly, hoping that would answer all expected requests for a correspondence.
“Well,” said Tom, “I only write to people I really want to hear from. And I never ask anyone to write to me unless I take a great deal of pleasure in reading their letters. I never asked you to correspond with me, have I?”
“No-o, I think not,” replied Polly, disconcerted at this announcement. She had felt sure he was going to beg her to write as often as possible, and now this was so different!
“I thought not! You see our likes and pursuits are so different. The very difference in our ways of living now—you with luxurious art in New York, me in the rugged life of a miner in the Rockies, creates a gulf between our ideals. Mine is getting at gold that is the basis of most worldly success, and yours is an ideal and aspirationin art that transcends my common work and business. So we would not know what to say to each other in letters, would we? You would not wish to speak of gold and mining, and I haven’t any idea of art or its ideals.”
What it must have cost Tom to say all this, no one knows, but he was piqued, at last, and so acted his part admirably; and he had the satisfaction of seeing that Polly felt sorry at his words.
“Tom, I always felt sure you were an idealist at soul. It makes me feel a deep regret to learn that you have no such ideals left.”
Tom bid Polly good-by without an outward sign of regret, and so she sat and pondered over that unusual fact, long after he had gone.