Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the Mountains Part 16

"Myself and these two boys are," replied Gabe. "I can't say what my two companions are going to do," and he looked at the miners who had traveled with them for several days.

"I think we'll strike further south," said Mr. Hurd. "I don't like the winters in Montana, and we'll soon be having cold weather. California suits me better. My partner and I will look for a place to stay. Maybe we'll see you in the morning, before you start out. If we don't, we're glad to have met you, and we've enjoyed your company very much."

"We sure have," added Mr. Curtin.

"Same here," added Gabe. "We'd like first-rate for you two to come with us, but if you feel the call the other way, don't let us stop you."

Inquiring of the marshal where was the best place to stay over night, and being directed to what pa.s.sed for a hotel in the little settlement, Gabe and the boys made their way there. Mr. Curtin and Mr. Hurd met some former a.s.sociates, and went off with them, so the little party was separated.

In spite of a few shooting affrays during the night, there was not much disturbance in b.l.o.o.d.y Canyon. Mr. Judson had spoken truly when he said a large part of the population had left for other diggings, and midnight, which is usually the most exciting time in a mining settlement, was so quiet that the boys and Gabe were able to go to sleep.

"Well, it feels good to sit down to a table again," remarked Jed the next morning, when they were having breakfast in the "hotel."

"Make the most of it," said Gabe. "We'll soon be striking out on a new trail, and we'll have to camp out again."

"Don't you think it would be better to have a tent?" proposed Will.

"I certainly do, and I'm going to get one," replied Gabe. "I've got to get some other supplies, too--blasting powder, a new handle for my lucky pickaxe, and some grub. This is the cheapest place to get 'em, as prices will be high near good diggings."

Most of that day was spent in getting the tent and other supplies. It was so late when they finished that Gabe decided they would stay another night in the hotel at b.l.o.o.d.y Canyon, and push forward in the morning.

That evening, as the three were strolling down the main and only street of the town, a couple of men, who came from a saloon, approached Gabe and the two boys.

"Excuse us, strangers," said one. "But is it true you are going prospecting up at Dizzy Gulch?"

"We calc'late on it," replied Gabe civilly, though the manner of the man was insolent.

"Well, that's a pretty good joke!" exclaimed the other stranger, laughing heartily.

"What is?" asked Gabe, for he was sensitive about being made fun of.

"Going to Dizzy Gulch? Why, you're foolish to go there. It's petered out. There was only some outcroppings, and the boys that went there had their trouble for their pains."

"I have reliable information that there have been some good strikes made at Dizzy Gulch," responded Gabe, while Jed and Will wondered what could be the object of the two men in ridiculing their plan.

"Well, you're foolish, that's all I've got to say," went on the man who had first spoken. "Ha! ha! It's a good joke. You'll be asking some one to grub-stake you next! Eh, Jim?"

"Sure thing! Dizzy Gulch didn't pan out!"

"I guess I know my own business best," responded Gabe.

"Oh, that's all right, stranger," responded one of the men quickly, for Gabe's manner was rather one of anger. "No offense, you understand, only I have to laugh when I see an old-timer making a spectacle of himself."

"It'll be time enough for you to talk when I make a clean-up, and don't get a yellow showing," went on Gabe. "Come on, boys. They may think it's a joke, but I guess Ted Jordan knew what he was writing about."

Leaving the two miners, who, with several companions, seemed to be quite amused at the idea of Gabe and the two lads going to Dizzy Gulch, the latter reached their boarding place.

As they entered the barroom, which was the only way to get into the place, they saw it was well filled with men who were standing about, drinking. Several of them were talking loudly, and the conversation ran to topics connected with cards and mines.

At the entrance of Gabe and the two lads, several of the men glanced at them.

"Hi! Here's some strangers that haven't had a drink with me!" exclaimed a man, much the worse for liquor. "Step right up, strangers, and name your poison! Set 'em up, Bill. Give my unknown friends the best in the house."

"Don't have anything to do with him," advised Gabe in a low voice.

The man, however, walked up to Jed, and, placing his hand familiarly on the lad's shoulder said:

"Come on up, youngster, and have a drink with old Ned Haverhill! I like your looks! Name your poison!"

"Thank you," said Jed, quietly, "but I don't drink."

There was a moment of silence. The boy's remark seemed to be a novelty in that place.

"What's that?" cried Haverhill, as if he had not heard aright.

"I don't drink, thank you," said Jed again.

"Not drink! What! Not when Ned Haverhill asks you! Why, dynamite and copper-heads! You've got to drink! What! Why, what do you think of that?"

and he turned to the men lined up in front of the bar.

There were anxious faces in the saloon then, and several men quietly made their way to the door. For Ned Haverhill was known as one of the worst men of the West, and to annoy him, especially in his present condition, was no small matter. He looked at Jed with bloodshot eyes, but the lad quietly returned the stare. Old Gabe, with a worried look, drew nearer to the lad whom he considered under his protection.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MARSHAL INTERFERES

"Excuse me," said the loud-spoken man, as he made Jed a mocking bow, "but perhaps you did not understand me. I asked for the honor of your company in partaking of a little of the liquid refreshment which they serve in this palatial hotel," and with his big hat he swept the floor.

"Once more, stranger, a tenderfoot by your looks, what will you have?"

The last words were sternly spoken, and there was a general movement, on the part of those nearest Haverhill, to get out of range of the gun which they momentarily expected him to draw.

"I understood you perfectly," replied Jed, "but I can only repeat what I said. I don't drink."

"Why--why!" spluttered Haverhill, for he considered himself insulted such was his peculiar code of "honor." "You've got to drink with me, or take the consequences!"

He reached toward his revolver, which was in plain sight in his belt.

But Jed never quailed. Will, with a white face, started forward to his brother's aid, but Gabe pulled him back.

"That'll do!" exclaimed the old miner, as he took a step in advance, and stood beside Jed. "I'm with this lad, and what he says I'll back up."

"Oh, you will, eh?" asked Haverhill, with a sneer. "And who are you?"

"No tenderfoot, if that's what you mean. I was out in California in '49, when you were eating bread and milk, and you can't bluff me. Don't you draw that gun!" suddenly exclaimed the brave miner, as he saw Haverhill's hand stealing toward the revolver.