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The Cave of Gold

by Everett McNeil · English · Gutenberg #20126 · 522,482 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Cave of Gold

Author: Everett McNeil


        
Release date: December 17, 2006 [eBook #20126]
                Most recently updated: January 1, 2021

Language: English

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THE CAVE OF GOLD

A Tale of California in '49

by

EVERETT McNEIL

Author of "Fighting with Fremont," "In Texas with Davy Crockett," "With
Kit Carson in the Rockies," Etc.







New York
E. P. Dutton & Company
681 Fifth Ave.

First Printing, January, 1911
Second Printing, August. 1919
Third Printing, June, 1926
Printed in the U.S.A.




TO THE DESCENDANTS YOUNG OR OLD OF THE HARDY FORTY-NINERS THIS STORY OF
THE EXCITING DAYS OF THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD IN CALIFORNIA IS HOPEFULLY
DEDICATED




[Illustration: "YOU LIE!" AND THE HARD FIST LANDED SQUARELY ON THE MAN'S
CHIN.]




FOREWORD


On a cold January morning of 1848, James Wilson Marshall picked up two
yellow bits of metal, about the size and the shape of split peas, from
the tail-race of the sawmill he was building on the South Fork of the
American River, some forty-five miles northeast of Sutter's Fort, now
Sacramento City. These two yellow pellets proved to be gold; and soon it
was discovered that all the region thereabouts was thickly sown with
shining particles of the same precious yellow metal. A few months later
and all the world was pouring its most adventurous spirits into the
wilderness of California.

This discovery of gold in California and the remarkable inpouring of men
that followed, meant very much to the United States. In a few months it
cleared a wilderness and built up a great state. In one step it advanced
the interests and the importance of the United States half a century in
the policies and the commerce of the Pacific. It threw wide open the
great doors of the West and invited the world to enter. It poured into
the pockets of the people and into the treasury of the United States a
vast amount of gold--alas! soon to be sorely needed to defray the
expenses of the most costly war of the ages. Indeed, when the length and
the breadth of its influence is considered, this discovery of gold in
California becomes one of the most important factors in the developing
of our nation, the great corner-stone in the upbuilding of the West;
and, as such, it deserves a much more important place in the history of
the United States than any historian has yet given to it.

In the present story an attempt has been made, not only to tell an
interesting tale, but to interest the younger generation in this
remarkable and dramatic phase of our national development, possibly the
most picturesque and dramatic period in the history of the nation: to
picture to them how these knights of the pick and the shovel lived and
worked, how they found and wrested the gold from the hard hand of
nature, and to give to them something of an idea of the hardships and
the perils they were obliged to endure while doing it.

The period was a dramatic period, crowded with unusual and startling
happenings, as far removed as possible from the quiet commonplaceness
and routine life of the average boy and girl of to-day; and the reader
is cautioned to remember this--if disposed at any time to think the
incidents narrated in the present tale too improbable or too startling
to have ever happened--that they could not happen to-day, even in
California; but they might have all happened then and there in
California.

The author is one of those who believe that the boys and the girls of
to-day should know something of the foundation stones on which the
superstructure of our national greatness rests, and how and with what
toils and perils they were laid; and, it is in the hope that the reading
of this story will interest them in this, the laying of the great
corner-stone in the upbuilding of the West, that this tale of the
Discovery of Gold in California has been written.

No nation can afford to forget its builders.




CONTENTS

   CHAPTER

       I. El Feroz

      II. Death of the Miner

     III. The Skin Map

      IV. At the Conroyal Rancho

       V. Off for the Gold-Mines

      VI. The Sign of the Two Red Thumbs

     VII. Caught in the Flood

    VIII. Accused of Murder

      IX. The Testimony of Bill Ugger

       X. The Missing Button

      XI. An Unexpected Witness

     XII. Hammer Jones

    XIII. Explanations

     XIV. The Luck of Dickson

      XV. Around the Supper Table

     XVI. Unexpected Company

    XVII. Pockface Again

   XVIII. Story of the Great Discovery

     XIX. Some Exciting Moments

      XX. Robbed

     XXI. Pedro

    XXII. The Mystery of the Tent

   XXIII. On the Shore of Goose Neck Lake

    XXIV. In Lot's Canyon

     XXV. The Cave of Gold

    XXVI. The Catastrophe

   XXVII. Home




ILLUSTRATIONS

   "You lie!" and the hard fist landed squarely on the man's chin

   The skin map

   "You can turn your horses around and ride back the way you
   came"

   "Is there any! just look there! and there! and there!"

   Bud bent and stretched his free hand down to Marshall

   "It is gold! it is gold! and enough of it to make us all
   rich beyond our fondest dreams"




The Cave of Gold




CHAPTER I

EL FEROZ


"Whoa!"--"whoa!" With quick jerks on their bridle reins Thure Conroyal
and Bud Randolph pulled up their horses and listened shiveringly.

Again that same shrill whistling scream of dreadful agony and fear, that
had caused them to rein up their horses so suddenly a moment before,
came from the valley beyond the brow of the little hill up which they
had been slowly riding, and chilled the very marrow in their bones with
the terrible intensity of its fear and anguish. Then all was still.

"What--what was it?" and Thure turned a startled face to Bud. "It didn't
sound human and I never heard an animal scream like that before. What
can it be?"

"I don't know," Bud answered, his face whitening a little; "but I am
going to find out. Come on," and, swinging his rifle into position where
it would be ready for instant use, he started up the hill, his eyes
fixed in the direction whence had come those fearful screams.

"We'd better go a little slow, until we find out what it is," cautioned
Thure, as he quickly fell in by the side of Bud, his own rifle held
ready for instant use. "It might be Indian devilment of some kind. You
know dad's last letter from the mines said that the Indians were getting
ugly; and if it is hostile Indians, we want to see them first."

"You bet we do," was Bud's emphatic rejoinder, as he again pulled up his
horse. "Now, just hold Gray Cloud and I'll scout on ahead and see what's
going on down there in the valley before we show ourselves," and,
sliding swiftly from Gray Cloud's back, he tossed his bridle rein to
Thure, and, rifle in hand, started swiftly and as silently as an Indian
toward a thick clump of bushes that grew directly on the top of the
little hill.

Thure deftly caught the bridle rein; and then sat silent and motionless
on the back of his horse, his eyes on his comrade, waiting in tense
expectancy for the moment when he would reach the clump of bushes and
look down into the valley beyond and see the cause of those strange and
terrible cries that had so suddenly and so fearfully startled them.

Bud, carrying his cocked rifle at trail, his form bent so that the least
possible part of his body showed above the grass of the hillside, ran
swiftly until he had almost reached the brow of the hill and the clump
of bushes. Then, crouching closer to the ground, he crept cautiously and
slowly to the bushes and, gently working himself into their midst,
carefully parted the branches in front of his face until he had a clear
view of the little valley below. At the first sight he uttered an
exclamation of surprise and wrath and threw his rifle to his shoulder;
but, with a regretful shake of his head, he almost instantly lowered the
gun, and, turning quickly about, motioned excitedly for Thure to advance
with the horses and started on the run to meet him.

"Indians! Is it Indians?" Thure cried anxiously, the moment Bud was at
his side.

"No," panted the boy, as he leaped into his saddle. "It's _El Feroz_;
and if I've got anything to say about it, he has made his last kill.
Come on," and his eyes glinted with wrath and excitement, as he dug his
spurs into the flanks of Gray Cloud and galloped furiously up the hill.

"_El Feroz!_ Bully!" and Thure, with an exultant yell, struck the spurs
into his horse and galloped along by his side.

At the top of the hill both boys pulled up their horses and looked down
into the valley. The valley was small, not more than half a mile across,
and through its center ran a little stream of water, fringed with bushes
and small trees. On the near side of this fringe of trees and bushes and
only a short distance from where our two young friends sat on the backs
of their horses, crouched a huge grizzly bear over the body of a horse
that was still quivering in the death agony.

"The brute!" exclaimed Thure angrily, the moment his eyes had taken in
this scene of violence. "So that was the death scream of a horse we
heard! Well, I never want to hear another! But, we've got you now, you
old villain!" and his eyes swept over the little valley, free, except
for the fringe of trees and bushes, of all obstructions, exultingly. "If
we let you get away from this, we'll both deserve to be shot. Now," and
he turned to Bud, "you ride to the right and I'll go to the left and we
will have the brute between us, so that if he charges either of us, the
other can take after him and shoot or rope him."

"Good!" agreed Bud. "But, say, let's rope him first. Just shooting is
too good for _El Feroz_. Remember Manuel and Old Pedro, whom he killed,
and Jim Bevins, whom he tore nearly to pieces and crippled for life, to
say nothing of the cattle and the horses he has killed. And now that we
have him where he can't get away, I am for showing him that man is his
master, strong and ferocious as he is, before killing him. We could not
have picked out a better place for roping him, if we had been doing the
picking," and his eyes glanced over the smooth level of the little
valley. "We'll let him chase us until we get him away from the trees and
bushes along the creek, and then we'll have some fun with the big brute
with our ropes, before sending him to Kingdom Come with our bullets.
What do you say, Thure?"

"Well," grinned Thure reminiscently, "if it don't turn out better than
did our attempt to rope a grizzly when I was with Fremont, I say shoot
the grizzly first and rope him afterward. Now, it won't be no joke
roping _El Feroz_, even if everything is in our favor," and his face
sobered. "Still, I reckon, our horses can keep us at a safe distance
from his ugly claws and teeth; and it will be all right to have a try
with the ropes before we use bullets, but we've got to be careful. _El
Feroz_ is the largest and ugliest grizzly ever seen anywhere around
here, and could kill one of our horses with one blow of his huge paw.
Mexican Juan says that an Indian devil has taken possession of the big
brute and that only a silver bullet blessed by a priest can kill him;
and, in proof of his belief, he told me that he himself had shot five
lead bullets at _El Feroz_ and that he had heard the devil laugh when
the bullets struck and fell hot and flattened to the ground. Now he
always carries a silver bullet with him that he had a priest bless when
he was down to San Francisco last fall; and the next time he meets _El
Feroz_ he expects to kill him with the holy bullet. He showed me the
silver bullet," and Thure laughed. "But I'm willing to put my trust in
lead, if it hits the right spot, Indian devil or no devil. Now, look at
_El Feroz_. He doesn't seem to be worrying none over our presence.
Appears to think the filling of his greedy belly too important an
operation to be interrupted by us," and Thure's eyes turned to where the
huge grizzly was tearing with teeth and claws the carcass of the horse,
his wicked little eyes turned in their direction, but otherwise giving
them not the slightest attention. Evidently _El Feroz_ had only contempt
for the puny prowess of man.

"Well, we'll soon teach him better manners, the ugly brute! Come on,"
and Bud Randolph and Thure Conroyal both started slowly toward the
grizzly, loosening the strong ropes that hung from the pommels of their
saddles as they rode.

There was no need of haste. _El Feroz_ would not run away--not from a
good dinner like that he was now eating--for all the men in California.
For four years he had terrorized this part of California, had never once
turned his back to a man, but had seen the backs of many men turned to
him; and now the killing of the horse had aroused all the ferocity of
his savage nature, and he was ready to fight anything and everything
that threatened to rob him of his prey.

Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph did not for a moment expect _El Feroz_
to run, when they rode toward him. They knew grizzly nature, especially
the ferocious nature of _El Feroz_, too well to dream of such a thing.
They knew he would fight; and, if they had been afoot, they would not
have dared to attack the evil monster, armed though they were with
rifles and so skilful in their use that they could cut the head off a
wild goose at a hundred yards. But, seated on the backs of their fleet
and well-trained horses and on a smooth and open field like the one
before them, they did not fear even _El Feroz_ himself. If their ropes
did not hold or their bullets kill at once, the swift legs of their
horses could be counted on to keep them out of danger, unless some
unforeseen mischance happened.

The lassoing or roping of grizzly bears was a sport often indulged in by
the native Californians, who were among the most skilful horsemen in the
world and marvelously expert with their lassos or reatas, as they called
the long rope, usually made of hide or woven horsehair, which they used
to catch their horses and cattle; and Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph
had become as expert as any native with their reatas, and, consequently,
felt equal to the roping of even as ferocious and as huge a beast as _El
Feroz_ himself, the most dreaded grizzly in the California mountains.

Thure and Bud rode slowly toward the grizzly, one turning a little to
the left and the other to the right as he advanced, so that when they
drew near to _El Feroz_ there were some five rods of space between them.
They had fastened their rifles to the saddles in front of them, to hold
them safe and yet have them where they could be quickly seized in case
of sudden need and to give them free use of both of their hands in
throwing their ropes and in managing their horses; and now, as they
advanced toward the bear, they uncoiled their reatas and began slowly
swinging the loops around their heads in readiness for the throw, while
every faculty of their minds quickened and every muscle of their young
bodies tightened in expectation of the coming battle that might mean
death to one or both, if either blundered.

The grizzly glared furiously, first at one horseman then at the other,
and tore more savagely than ever at the flesh of the horse, until both
boys were almost upon him. Then, with a roar so savage and fearful that
both horses, well-trained as they were, jumped violently, he reared up
suddenly on his hind legs, the blood of the horse dripping from his
reddened teeth, and, growling ferociously and swaying his huge head from
side to side, he stood, for a moment, apparently trying to decide which
one of those two venturesome humans he should tear to pieces first.

"Quick! Rope him around the neck before he charges!" yelled Thure. "I'll
try to get one of his hind legs."

As Thure spoke Bud's lasso shot through the air; and the loop glided
swiftly over the great head and tightened suddenly around the hairy
neck, just at the moment the bear came to the decision to charge Thure
and sprang toward him, with the result that the sudden unexpectedness of
the jerk of Bud's rope yanked him off his feet and hurled him on his
back.

Thure instantly saw his opportunity and before the huge beast could
right himself, he had swiftly cast the loop of his rope around one of
the sprawling hind legs and drawn it tight.

"Hurrah! We've got him!" yelled Bud triumphantly, as Gray Cloud whirled
about and stood facing the grizzly, his strong body braced backward so
that he held the rope taut, as all well-broken California horses were
trained to do the moment the thrown rope caught its victim.

"Got him! You bet we've got him!" echoed Thure, as his own horse whirled
into position, with both front legs strongly braced, and drew the lasso
tight about bruin's hind leg, thus stretching him out between the ends
of the two reatas.

But they had not "got him"--not yet; for, just at that moment, all the
ferocious bulk of raging bone and muscle that had given _El Feroz_ his
name of terror, gave a tremendous heave, whirled over on its feet; and,
before either boy knew what was happening, Bud's lasso broke and about a
ton of angry bear was hurling itself toward Thure.

The unforeseen mischance had happened with a vengeance!

Bud uttered a yell of warning and horror and caught at his rifle; but,
almost before his hands could touch the gun, _El Feroz_ was upon Thure
and only a tremendous jump sideways of his brave little horse saved him
from the sweep of one of those saber-armed paws.

The grizzly bear, for an animal of his huge bulk, is astonishingly agile
and speedy, when once his fighting blood is aroused; and, if ever a
grizzly was fighting mad, that grizzly was now _El Feroz_. The instant
he saw that he had missed the horse and man, he whirled about and was
after them again; and, so swift was his turn and so sudden his charge,
that, once again, only the superior horsemanship of Thure and the
agility of the horse saved them from a sweeping blow of one of the great
paws that came so close that Thure could feel the rush of its wind
against his face.

"Out run him! Out run him!" yelled Bud excitedly. "Try to throw him with
your rope; and I'll see if I can get a bullet in him," and he suddenly
jerked up Gray Cloud, so that he could make his aim more sure, threw his
rifle to his shoulder, and fired.

The ball struck the grizzly, but did not disable him. Indeed, the wound
seemed rather to increase the terrible energy and rage with which he was
striving to reach Thure and his horse with one of those powerful paws;
and, for a dreadful moment, it appeared to Bud as if the huge beast
might even overtake the speedy horse. Then he saw that Thure was slowly
gaining, that the rope, which still clutched the hind leg of the
grizzly, was slowly tightening; and, with breathless haste, he began
reloading his rifle. He had had all the roping of _El Feroz_ he wanted;
and now his only desire was to get a bullet into the huge body, where it
would kill quickly, as speedily as possible. Suddenly, just as he was
driving the bullet down into the barrel of his rifle, he heard a wild
yell of exultation from Thure, and looked up just in time to see the
hind part of the grizzly shoot upward into the air; and the next moment
his astonished eyes saw the huge body dangling from a strong limb of an
old oak tree, that thrust itself out from the sturdy trunk some fifteen
feet above the ground, and held there by the grip of Thure's rope around
one of the hind legs.

It needed but a glance for Bud to understand how this seemingly
marvelous feat had been accomplished. The quick eyes of Thure had seen
the tree, with its sturdy limb thrust out some fifteen feet above the
ground, almost directly in the line of his flight; and, swerving a
little to one side, so as to pass close to it, and slowing up his horse
a bit, he had gathered up the slack of the rope in his hand, and, as he
passed the tree, he had thrown it so that the middle of the rope had
fallen over the top of the limb not far from the trunk; and then, of
course, the rope had jerked the bear up into the air, and Thure had
whirled his horse about, and now the well-trained animal stood, his fore
legs braced, holding the struggling grizzly up to the limb.

"Shoot, shoot him quick, before the limb or the rope breaks!" yelled
Bud, the moment his eyes had taken in the situation, and, ramming the
bullet swiftly home, he spurred Gray Cloud toward the dangling bear.

Thure at once seized his rifle; but so furious were the struggles of the
grizzly--he hung just so that his fore paws touched the ground--as he
twisted and turned and frantically pawed up the dirt, insane with rage,
that it was impossible to get accurate aim from where he sat on his
horse; and Thure jumped from his saddle and ran quickly close up to the
swinging grizzly, now struggling more furiously than ever at the near
approach of his hated enemy.

"Don't! Look out! Can't you see how the limb is bending and shaking?"
yelled Bud excitedly. "The limb or the rope might break at any moment!"
and Bud shuddered at the horror of the thought of what then might happen
and urged his horse more desperately than ever toward the scene.

And, indeed, the huge body of the grizzly, twisting and swinging at the
end of the rope, the blood flowing from the wound made by Bud's bullet,
his little red eyes glowing like coals of fire, his strong jaws snapping
and growling, and his huge paws striking furiously in the direction of
Thure, did make a sight to chill the marrow in the bones of any man.

Thure, now that he was so close to the bear that he could have touched
him with the muzzle of his rifle, realized that, in his haste, he had
done a fool-hardy thing; but he was not the kind of a lad to back down
from a position once taken, not until he had to do so, and, quickly
bringing his rifle to his shoulder, he waited until the swaying body
presented a fatal spot to his aim, pulled the trigger, and leaped
backward from the bear.

It was fortunate for Thure that he made that backward jump; for, at the
crack of his rifle, _El Feroz_ made such a tremendous lunge toward him,
that the creaking limb bent nearly double, and, with a sound like the
report of a gun, broke off close to the trunk and crashed to the ground
on top of the grizzly.

For a moment _El Feroz_ lay stunned by his wounds and fall and the crash
of the heavy limb; and then, with a roar, he struggled to his feet, just
as Bud jerked Gray Cloud to a halt not a rod away, and, instantly
throwing his rifle to his shoulder, fired. Even then the ferocious beast
plunged desperately toward his new enemy, staggering blindly, and fell
dead on the exact spot where Thure had stood.

"Jumping buffaloes, but that was a narrow escape for you, Thure!" and,
throwing himself out of his saddle, Bud rushed up to where Thure stood,
white and trembling, now that the danger was over, not ten feet from
where the bear lay dead.

"But, we've got him! Got _El Feroz_ himself!" and the blood surged back
to Thure's face. "The biggest grizzly in all California! Say, but won't
the Mexicans and the Indians think we are great hunters now? And won't
Ruth and Iola stare, when we throw down the hide of _El Feroz_ in front
of them to-night?"

No wonder Thure felt a little vainglorious over their achievement; for
there was not a hunter in all that country who would not have considered
the killing of _El Feroz_ the crowning exploit of his life, so great had
become the monster grizzly's reputation for savage ferocity and
fearlessness of man.

"Well, I reckon we won't do any more hunting to-day," Bud declared, as
he began swiftly reloading his rifle. In that country at that time no
experienced hunter ever allowed his rifle to remain unloaded a moment
longer than was necessary. "When we get the hide off that monster, it
will be time to be starting for home," and his eyes turned to the dead
grizzly. "Whew, but isn't he a whopper! I'll bet that he will weigh
nearly a ton! You are right, the girls will be surprised some, when we
throw down that hide in front of them," and his face flushed a little at
the thought of the glory that would soon be theirs. "But, come, now that
our guns are loaded, let's get busy with our knives and get this big
hide off," and, pulling out his hunting-knife from its sheath, he bent
over the huge carcass of _El Feroz_.

"I'll be with you as soon as I free Buck," and Thure, slipping the noose
of his reata off the hind leg of the dead grizzly and coiling it around
his arm, hastened to where his gallant little horse still stood; and,
after fastening the rope in its place on the pommel of the saddle, he
hurried back to where Bud was bending over the grizzly.

There was no need of tying their horses. All the rope required to hold
them fast was the rope of love they bore their young masters, and so the
two animals were left free, while the two boys busied themselves getting
the pelt off the bear.

The skinning of a grizzly bear, especially when the bear is as huge and
as tough as was _El Feroz_, is no light undertaking; but Thure and Bud
were no novices at this kind of labor, and, after half an hour's hard
work, the great pelt was off and stretched out on the ground, skin side
up.

"There, I am glad that job is done!" Thure exclaimed, with satisfaction,
as he wiped his bloody knife on the grass. "Say, but he sure was a
whopper!" and his eyes glanced exultantly over the great hide, now
looking larger than ever as it lay spread out on the grass. "Great
Moses, look at all those old bullet marks!--Fifteen of them! No wonder
that Mexican Juan thought _El Feroz_ was protected by the devil!--Hello,
what is the matter now?" and Thure jumped up quickly from the hide, over
which he had been bending counting _El Feroz's_ old bullet wounds, at a
sudden exclamation of alarm from Bud.

"There! There! Look there!" Bud was pointing excitedly up the valley.

"Mother of men, they are murdering him!" "Come on!" and Thure, grabbing
up his rifle, made a jump for his horse, followed by Bud.

Three-quarters of a mile up the valley from where our young friends had
slain the big grizzly, a spur of rocks projected down into the valley,
reaching like a long finger almost to the fringe of trees along the
creek; and around this spur of rocks three men had slowly ridden, and,
just as they had come in sight from where the boys stood, Bud, whose
eyes had happened to be turned in that direction, had seen two of the
men suddenly and apparently without warning set upon the third man and,
after a short struggle, knock him off his horse. It was this sight that
had caused his sudden cry of alarm, followed by Thure's exclamation of
horror, "They are murdering him!" and the quick jump of both boys for
their horses.

It took Thure and Bud less than a minute to reach their horses and to
spring up into their saddles; but, in that brief time, the unequal
struggle up the valley was over, and the two men were bending over the
prostrate body of their victim, apparently searching for valuables, when
the two boys, with loud yells, spurred their horses at full speed toward
them.

At the sound of their voices, the two men looked suddenly up, saw them
coming, hastily grabbed up a few things from the ground, evidently taken
from the man they were robbing, jumped to their feet, sprang on the
backs of their horses, and, before either boy was near enough to shoot,
both had disappeared around the spur of rocks, lashing and spurring
their horses frantically.

Thure and Bud jerked up their horses by the side of the fallen man and,
jumping from their saddles, bent quickly over him.

"They've murdered him!" cried Bud, the moment his horrified eyes saw the
white face and the bloodstained breast of the stricken man. "They have
stabbed him! The cowardly curs!"

"No, he is not dead! I can feel his heart beat. The stab was too low to
reach his heart. Quick, we must do something to stop this flow of blood,
or he soon will be dead," and Thure tore open the bosom of the rough
flannel shirt, exposing the red mouth of a knife wound from which the
blood was flowing freely.

Thure and Bud were both familiar with the rough surgery of the plains
and the mountains; and soon their deft hands had swiftly untied the silk
scarfs from around their necks, plugged the wound with one of them and
used the other to tightly bind and hold it in place.

"There, I think that will stop the blood! Now, let's see what other
hurts he has," and Thure passed his hands gently over the man's head.
"Two bumps--whoppers! Either enough to knock the senses out of an ox;
but, I reckon, they've done no mortal damage. It's the stab wound that I
am most afraid of. What do you make out of it all anyway?" and Thure
turned to Bud.

"Plain robbery and attempted murder," Bud answered gravely. "The man is
evidently a miner," and his eyes rested on the long unkempt hair and
beard, the weather-bronzed skin, and the rough worn clothing of the
wounded man; "and was, probably, on his way from the mines to San
Francisco with his gold-dust, when those two cowardly curs met him and,
finding out that he was from the mines, attempted to murder him for his
gold."

"Reckon you're right," agreed Thure. "Leastwise there's no use of
speculating over it longer now. The thing to do is to get him home as
soon as we can. Mother is powerful good doctoring hurts. Just see if you
can get him up on the saddle in front of me. I reckon that'll be the
safest way to carry him," and Thure mounted his horse, while Bud thrust
his sturdy young arms under the body of the insensible man and, as
gently as possible, lifted him to the saddle, where the strong arms of
Thure held him as comfortably as possible.

"Now, I'll strike out straight for home," Thure said, as he started Buck
off on a walk with his double burden; "and you can ride back and get the
hide of _El Feroz_, and soon catch up with me."

"All right. I'll be with you again as soon as I can," and Bud sprang on
the back of Gray Cloud and started off on a gallop for the scene of the
contest with the grizzly.

How wonderful it is that the tenor of our whole after lives may be, nay,
frequently is, completely changed by some seemingly unimportant
circumstance or unexpected happening. If Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph
had not heard the death-cry of that horse and had not turned aside to
see what had caused those agonizing sounds, they would not have been
delayed, by their contest with the grizzly, until the coming of the
three men, nor have witnessed the attack on the miner; and, if they had
not seen this attack on the miner and hurried to his rescue, they never
would have heard the miner's marvelous tale, nor have secured the skin
map; and, if they had not heard the miner's tale and secured the skin
map--But, I must let the story itself tell you all that resulted from
these unexpected and seemingly unimportant happenings.




CHAPTER II

DEATH OF THE MINER


California and 1849! Magical combination of Place and Date! The Land of
Gold and the Time of Gold! The Date and the Place of the opening of
Nature's richest treasure-house! Gold--free for all who would stoop and
pick or dig it out of the rocks and the dirt! The beginning of the most
wonderful exodus of gold-mad men in the history of the world! "Gold!
Gold!! GOLD!!! CALIFORNIA GOLD!" The nations of the world heard the cry;
and the most enterprising and daring and venturesome--the wicked as well
as the good--of the nations of the world started straightway for
California. Towns and cities sprang up, like mushrooms, in a night,
where the day before the grizzly bear had hunted. In a year a wilderness
became a populous state. A marvelous work to accomplish, even for an
Anglo-Saxon-American nation; but, get down your histories of California,
boys, and you will learn that we did accomplish that very thing--built a
great state out of a wilderness in some twelve months of time!

Of course, Thure and Bud (Bud with the grizzly's hide had soon overtaken
Thure), as they rode along over the soft grass of the Sacramento Valley,
on this clear July afternoon of the eventful year of 1849, did not
realize that all these wonderful things were happening or were about to
happen in their loved California. They knew that a great gold discovery
had been made in the region of the American River some forty miles
northeast of Sutter's Fort. Indeed, for the last year, all California
had gone gold-mad over this same discovery; and now every able-bodied
man in the country, who could possibly get there, was at the mines.
Stores, ranches, ships, pulpits, all businesses and all professions had
been deserted for the alluring smiles of the yellow god, gold, until it
might be truthfully said, that in all California there was but one
business and that one business was gold-digging.

The devastating gold-fever had swept over the Conroyal and the Randolph
ranchos; and had left, of all the grown-up males, only Thure and Bud,
who, not yet being of age, had been compelled to stay, much against
their wills, to care for the women folks and the ranchos, while their
fathers and brothers and all the able-bodied help had rushed off, like
madmen, to the mines; and only their loyalty to their loved mothers and
fathers had kept them from following. Now, the one great hope of their
lives was to win permission to go to the mines, where men were winning
fortunes in a day, and try their luck at gold-digging.

The Conroyal rancho, the Randolph and the Conroyal families had united,
when the men went to the mines, and both families were now living at the
Conroyal rancho, was some five miles from the scene of the robbery and
attempted murder of the miner; and, for the first two miles of the
homeward ride, the wounded man lay unconscious and motionless in Thure's
arms. Then he began to move restlessly and to mutter unintelligible
things.

"He sure isn't dead," Thure declared, as the struggles of the man nearly
pitched both of them out of the saddle. "Just give me a hand, Bud; for,
I reckon, we'll have to lower him to the ground until he gets his right
senses back or quits this twitching and jerking. I am afraid he will
start the wound to bleeding again."

Bud quickly sprang off the back of his horse; and together and as gently
as possible the two boys lowered the wounded miner from the saddle and
laid him down on a little mound of grass. A few rods away a small stream
of water wound its way, half-hidden by tall grass and bushes and low
trees, through the little valley where they had stopped.

"Get your hat full of water," Thure said, as he bent down to see if the
bandage over the wound was still in its place. "Seems to me he ought to
be getting his senses back by this time."

Bud at once started off on the run for the water and soon was back with
his broad-brimmed felt hat full of the cooling fluid; and, kneeling down
by the side of the wounded man, who now lay quiet, with eyes closed,
although he was still muttering incoherently, he bathed the hot forehead
and the swollen lumps on the back of his head.

Suddenly the miner's eyes opened and stared wonderingly around him and
up into the faces of the two boys. For a minute he did not seem to be
able to comprehend what had happened. Then the blank wondering look
suddenly left his eyes.

"Did they get the gold?" and his hand went quickly to his waist. There
was no belt there. "Gone! A good twenty pounds of as fine gold as was
ever dug from the earth, gone!--Gods, if they had but given me any kind
of a show, they would not have got it so easily!" and his eyes flamed
and he attempted to sit up, but fell back with a groan and a whitening
face.

For a minute or two he lay with eyes closed, breathing heavily.
Evidently he was trying to collect his thoughts, to realize his
situation. When he opened his eyes again there was a solemn, an awed
look in them that had not been there before, and the anger had gone.

"I have been stabbed," he said slowly, "and I am dying."

"No, no. The knife did not go near your heart. It struck too low. You
will soon be all right again. Wait until we get you home and mother will
soon make a whole man of you. Mother is about the best nurse in all
California," and Thure gripped one of the hard toil-worn hands and
smiled encouragingly.

"No." As the man spoke his eyes never once left Thure's face. "No, I am
dying. I know. I was once a surgeon, an army surgeon." For a moment his
eyes darkened, as if with bitter recollections. "But, what matters the
past now? Let it bury its dead," and he smiled grimly. "This is death.
I know. I have seen many die just this way. Internal hemorrhage, we
doctors called it. The blood from the wound is flowing into my body.
I can feel it. I have half an hour, possibly an hour to live; and
then--" The awed look in the eyes deepened, and, for a couple of minutes,
he did not speak, but lay staring straight up into the blue skies.
Suddenly his white lips tightened and he turned to Thure.

"How far is it to your home and to your mother?" he asked abruptly.

"About three miles; but I can carry you so easily that I am sure--"

"Too far," the wounded man broke in impatiently. "I might die before I
got there. No, this shall be my deathbed--the soft green grass, canopied
by the blue skies--a fitting end, a fitting end," he added gloomily.

"Come, come," and Thure tried to make his voice sound cheery and full of
hope. "Never say die, until you are dead. Just wait until we get home
and mother will put new life into you. Now, I'll get on my horse, and
Bud will lift you up into my arms, and we'll be home before you know
it," and Thure jumped to his feet and started toward his horse.

"No, come back," and the miner impatiently lifted himself up on one
elbow. "Come back. I have no time to waste riding three miles for a
deathbed. I--" Again the keen eyes searched the faces of the two boys.
"I have much to say and little time in which to say it. Get that
bearskin off your horse and make me as comfortable as possible on it.
And be quick about it; for I am going fast, and, before I go, I want to
make you two boys my heirs for saving me from those two villains. The
cowardly curs! They hit me from behind!" and again the eyes flamed with
anger. "They got the gold I had with me and they got me; but they did
not get the secret of Crooked Arm Gulch, nor learn how to find its
Golden Elbow. Curse them! If I could but live, I'd--But, what's the
use?" and he sank back white-lipped on the grass. "That knife stab in
the breast has done for me. And just when the golden key that unlocks
all the doors of pleasure and power was tight-gripped in my very
fingers! Just my luck! But," and the look of somber resignation came
back into the pain-racked eyes, "I'll not die like a snarling, whining
coyote. I'll meet death, as I have met life--face to face, with both
eyes wide open. Now," and he turned to Bud, who had hurried to his horse
and, unloosening the bear-skin, had hastened back with it and spread it
out on the grass, soft hair up, by the side of the wounded man, "lay me
on the skin and stuff something under my head and shoulders, so as to
keep the blood from flooding my lungs and heart as long as possible; for
I have that to tell that must not wait, even for death," and the white
lips tightened firmly.

Thure and Bud, anxious to do everything possible to ease the last
moments of the dying man, now carefully lifted him and laid him down on
the skin of the grizzly bear as gently as possible. Then, taking off one
of the saddles and their own coats, they placed the saddle, softened by
the folded coats and the bearskin, under the head and the shoulders of
the miner; and only the white tight-drawn lips and the burning eyes told
of the intense pain that he must have suffered while the change was
being made.

For a couple of minutes the wounded man lay silent on the bearskin, with
closed eyes, breathing heavily. Then he suddenly opened his eyes and
turned them resolutely on the two boys, who stood, one on each side,
bending anxiously over him.

"There, that is better," he said. "That is all you can do for me. Now,
sit down close to my head, so that you can hear every word that I say;
for never did dying lips have a more important message to utter, never
did mortal leave a richer inheritance to mortal than I am about to leave
to you. Gold--a cave paved with gold! Gold--a cave walled with seams of
gold! Gold--bushels, barrels of gold nuggets, to be picked up, as you
pick up pebbles from the stony bed of a river! Gods, if I could but
live!" Again the blood flushed back into the white cheeks and the eyes
glowed with feverish excitement.

"There! There!" and Thure laid a cool hand on the hot forehead. "Never
mind the gold now. When you have rested a bit and have recovered some of
your strength, Bud and I will rig up a stretcher out of the bearskin and
carry you home between us; and then, when you are comfortably fixed in a
soft bed, you can tell us all about this wonderful cave of gold."

No wonder Thure thought all this wild talk about the marvelous cave of
gold but the delirium of a dying man and tried to quiet the sufferer;
but the miner would not be quieted, and, roughly brushing the hand from
his forehead, he turned his glowing eyes full on Thure's face.

"You think I am raving," he said, "that this cave of gold exists only in
the disordered fancy of a dying man. Well, I will show you. Thrust your
hand under my shirt, beneath my right shoulder, and pull out the small
bag you will find there. Quick!" he cried impatiently, as Thure
hesitated. "You forget that I am a dying man and have not a minute of
time to waste."

Thus admonished, Thure hastily thrust his right hand under the miner's
shirt, as directed, and pulled out a small buckskin bag, fastened by a
buckskin thong about the miner's shoulder. The weight of the bag, for it
was only some seven inches long by three inches wide, surprised him.

"Cut the strings and open the bag," commanded the miner.

Thure quickly did as bidden.

"Now, see what is inside of the bag."

Thure thrust his hand into the bag and drew out a long, tightly rolled
piece of white parchment-like skin.

"That is the skin map. Never mind that now. Turn the bag bottom side up
and shake it."

Thure caught hold of the bottom of the bag with his fingers, turned it
over and gave it a vigorous shake; and then sat staring wildly at the
object that had fallen, with a thud, on the bearskin by his side. He was
looking at a solid nugget of gold nearly as large as, and shaped very
much like his fist!

"Pick it up! Lift it!" urged the miner, his eyes shining with
excitement. "It is gold, pure, virgin gold, just as God made it! I
picked it up off the bottom of the cave, where there are thousands of
other smaller nuggets. In the light of my torch they sparkled and shone
until the floor of the cave seemed flooded with golden light. In the two
hours I was there I gathered up the Five Thousand Dollars' worth of gold
nuggets the robbers stole from me and that nugget, all that I dared take
with me; for the way out of Crooked Arm Gulch is not a road over which a
man more heavily burdened would care to venture. I had no food with me,
no horses; and I must hurry back, where food, on which to live, and
horses, on which to carry my supplies to the cave and the gold away from
it, could be bought. I--"

"And you found this hunk of gold on the floor of that cave?" Thure who
had been lifting and examining the nugget with widening eyes, could
control his excitement no longer. "And you say that there are thousands
of other nuggets where this came from?"

"Yes, yes! I have been telling you God's truth," and the face grew white
and drawn with pain again. "But, don't interrupt me. I--I have only a
few minutes left. The nugget, the gold, all is yours. I--I bequeath it
to you with my dying breath. The map--the skin map--will tell you where
to find it--North--northeast from Hangtown--a good five days' tramp--No
miners there yet--Deep--steep canyon--Lot's Canyon--Tall white pillar of
rock standing near Crooked Arm Gulch--Must look--sharp--to find gulch
opening--Blocked by great--rocks--Big tree--Climb to third limb.
Remember--climb to third limb--third limb--third--My God!--My God!" and
both hands clutched madly at his throat.

His breath was now coming in quick heaving gasps; and only by a supreme
effort of will was he able longer to command his wavering reason.

"Quick--quick," he gasped, his voice coming in a hoarse whisper. "Bend
your heads close. Beware of the two men who robbed and murdered me--I--I
told--them of the cave of gold; but I did--did not tell them where it
is; and--and they--can--cannot find it without the skin map--They--they
murdered me for--for that map; but they did not get it--It--it was not
in--in my money-belt, as they thought. Guard that map--They--they would
kill--kill you to get it. One is a huge red-haired man with a broken
nose--The other is--is small, with pock-marked face--Beware--beware
pock--pock-marked face and--and broken nose--I--God--I--"

Again he clutched violently at his throat; and then a great wondering
look of awe came into his eyes, now staring straight up into the blue
skies, and his form stiffened suddenly.

Thure and Bud could endure the dreadful sight no longer and turned their
horrified eyes away; and, when, a couple of minutes later, they again
looked on the face of the miner, he was dead, with a smile on his grim
lips and a look of peace on his face, as if the coming of Death, at the
very last, had been a most pleasant and joyous event.




CHAPTER III

THE SKIN MAP


No mortal can look on death unmoved. Savage or civilized, Christian or
pagan, a great awe, a questioning wonder thrills the spirits of all who
stand in the presence of the dread, unsolvable mystery, death. The soul
asks questions that cannot be answered, that the ages have left
unanswered. And, as Thure and Bud now stood, with uncovered heads,
looking down on the quiet, peaceful face and the motionless, rigid form
of the dead miner, the world-old awe and wondering concerning death
thrilled their hearts. For a couple of minutes neither spoke, neither
moved. Then Thure's eyes sought the face of Bud.

"He is dead," he said solemnly.

"He is dead," answered Bud, not moving his awed eyes from the still
face.

"Dead!" and Thure bent and reverently straightened out the bent legs and
arms and smoothed back the matted hair from the forehead. "Dead, yes, as
dead as a stone; and yet a few minutes ago he was breathing and talking!
What a queer thing life is anyhow! Well, it won't do neither him nor us
any good to stand here thinking and talking about it. Now we must get
the body to the house and give it as decent a burial as possible. I'll
carry the body across the saddle in front of me. Come, let's hurry. I am
getting anxious to have it over."

For the moment, so great had been the shock of the miner's sudden death,
Thure and Bud had forgotten all about the dead man's marvelous tale of
the Cave of Gold; but now, as Bud stooped to help lift the body from the
bearskin, his eyes caught the yellow glow of the gold nugget, which lay
on the skin by the side of its unfortunate finder, and the sight
recalled the wondrous tale.

"What do you think of his story about finding that nugget in a cave
where the floor is covered with gold nuggets as thickly as pebbles on
the bed of a stony river? Do you suppose it is true or, just one of the
queer notions that sometimes come to the dying?" and Bud looked
wonderingly from the nugget to Thure's face.

"Great Moses, I forgot all about the gold!" and Thure's face flushed
with excitement. "Quick, let's get the body on the grass and then we'll
have another look at the nugget. That was a powerful queer story he
told; but it might be true. And if it is true," and his eyes sparkled,
"then we've just got to go to the mines and hunt up our dads and the
others and get them to help us find that cave."

In a moment more they had lifted the body off the bearskin and had laid
it down on the grass; and the gold nugget was in their hands.

"Glory! But isn't it heavy?" and Bud balanced the nugget in one hand.
"And it looks and feels and weighs like gold! It must be gold."

"It sure does look like gold," agreed Thure. "It looks and feels just
like the nuggets dad sent home, only larger. Oh, if we only could find
the cave where it came from! Let me see, he said that it was in the
Golden Elbow of Crooked Arm Gulch, in Lot's Canyon, near a white pillar
of rock and a big tree that we must climb to the third limb--a mighty
queer place I call that to find a cave! I reckon he must have been
lunaticy," and Thure turned a disappointed face to Bud.

"Well, he certainly found gold, and this proves it," and Bud tossed the
big nugget up in the air and caught it as it came down, "to say nothing
of the five thousand dollars' worth of gold nuggets that he claims his
murderers stole from him. But, didn't he say something about a map, a
skin map, that would tell us how to find the cave?" and his face
lighted.

"Yes, yes, that was the little roll of white skin I pulled first out of
the bag," and Thure's eyes searched eagerly the ground. "Here it is!"
and, stooping quickly, he picked up the little roll of white
parchment-like skin that he had pulled out of the little bag and dropped
on the ground, and began unrolling it with fingers that trembled with
excitement, while Bud crowded close to his side, his eyes on the
unrolling piece of tanned skin.

The skin was some ten inches long by seven inches wide, of a somewhat
stiff texture, and tanned so that it was nearly white. On the inner side
an unskilled hand had rudely drawn a map; and beneath the map was
written the words:

     Map, showing the location of the Cave of Gold in the Golden Elbow
     of Crooked Arm Gulch, which opens into Lot's Canyon near the white
     pillar of rock and the big tree, made by John Stackpole, the
     discoverer of the Cave of Gold.--1849.

In the lower left-hand corner of the map was a rudely drawn tree, with
three huge limbs, and, from near the end of the upper and third limb, an
arrow pointed slantingly downward, away from the trunk of the tree. In
the lower right-hand corner was a hand holding a flaming torch. Between
the tree and the torch was a cross, marked with the four main points of
the compass. In the lower left-hand corner of the map itself was a small
circle, marked "Hangtown"; and from there a crooked line trailed in a
northeasterly direction to the upper right-hand quarter of the skin,
where a map of Lot's Canyon and Crooked Arm Gulch was drawn with
considerable detail.

[Illustration: THE SKIN MAP.]

For a couple of minutes the two boys studied this map in silence, while
the conviction that the Cave of Gold was no deathbed hallucination, but
a wonderful reality, grew upon them; or else, how came the skin map,
which evidently had been made many days ago?

"Hangtown!" and Thure pointed excitedly to the name on the map. "That's
the name of the mining camp where dad was when he wrote last. And here,"
and his finger followed up the trail marked on the map, "is Lot's
Canyon! and the Big Tree! and Crooked Arm Gulch! and the Golden Elbow!
and--and this black spot, marked 'cave,' right at the point of the
Golden Elbow, must be the Cave of Gold! Great Moses, but I believe the
miner did actually find that Cave of Gold, just as he said he did!" and
Thure's eyes and face glowed with excitement.

"So do I," Bud agreed emphatically. "The skin map, the gold nugget--why,
even his murder! all go to prove the truth of his tale. The robbers
killed him to get this map. They could have got the gold without killing
and got away all right; but they knew of the Cave of Gold and the
map--the miner said he told them--and, expecting to get the map along
with the gold, they killed him to get him out of the way, so that they
could have all the gold in the cave to themselves. Say, but let's hurry
home and tell our mothers. They can't refuse to let us go to the mines
now! And we must start just as soon as possible. Come," and, for the
moment, in his excitement, forgetting the dead body of the miner, he
started to mount his horse.

"But, we can't leave him there!" and Thure pointed to the body. "Just
help me to get him up on the horse in front of me and then we'll get
home as soon as possible," and, picking up the little buckskin bag, he
slipped the nugget and the map back into it, thrust it into his pocket,
and soon, with the help of Bud, was on his horse, with the body of the
dead miner in front of him.

Bud now quickly threw the grizzly bearskin back on his horse, jumped
into his saddle, and the homeward journey was resumed.




CHAPTER IV

AT THE CONROYAL RANCHO


When Thure, bearing in his arms the dead body of a man, and Bud, with
the huge skin of a grizzly bear hanging across the back of his horse
behind the saddle, rode into the open court in front of the Conroyal
rancho, there was great excitement; and, even before they could
dismount, they were surrounded by a crowd of gesticulating,
question-shouting women and children and old decrepit men, all wild with
curiosity to know what had happened. In the midst of all this
excitement, the door of the house was flung open and two young ladies
catapulted themselves through the crowd to where Thure and Bud sat on
their horses.

"Mercy! What has happened?" and Iola Conroyal, her horrified eyes fixed
on the face of the dead miner, came to a sudden halt by the side of
Thure, with Ruth Randolph, round-eyed and white-faced, clinging to one
of her arms. "Is--is he dead?"

"Yes, he is dead," Thure answered gravely. "Murdered for his gold."
Then, seeing how white the faces of the two girls had suddenly grown, he
added quickly: "You girls hurry right back into the house and tell your
mothers that we found a miner, who had been robbed and stabbed, and
started to bring him home with us, but that he died before we got here;
and ask them to have some blankets laid on the floor of the sala for the
body to lie on and a sheet to cover it. Now, hurry. We'll tell you how
it all happened later," and not until the two girls were back in the
house did Thure make a move to get rid of his ghastly burden. Then,
reverently the body of the dead miner was lowered from the horse, and
borne into the large hall-like room of the house known as the sala, and
laid down on the blankets there prepared for it, and covered over with a
sheet.

In the meantime Bud had thrown the great hide of the grizzly to the
ground with the information that it was the skin of _El Feroz_ himself.

"How did you kill him?" "Who shot him?" and, with shouts of wonder and
delight, all the men and the boys, who had not gone into the sala with
the body of the dead miner, crowded around the skin of the fallen
monarch.

"Thure and I found the old villain just after he had killed a horse, and
shot him," Bud answered hastily, anxious to get to his mother with the
wonderful news of the Cave of Gold as quickly as possible. "Here,
Angelo!" and he turned to a young Mexican boy standing near, "Take my
horse and see that he is properly cared for. And you, Juan, take the
hide of _El Feroz_ and let us see how fine a robe you can make out of
it."

"Si, si, señor," answered the old Mexican exultingly. "He, the ugly
brute, kill my wife's brother, Pedro, whom I, like my own brother,
loved, and 'twill give my soul peace one fine robe to make out of his
big skin. A great glory, the killing of _El Feroz_, señor," and his old
eyes kindled. "Your fame like a swift horse will travel."

"Shucks! Any hunter could have got him the same as we did," and Bud
hurried into the house, all care for the glory of killing _El Feroz_
having been driven out of his head by the dying miner's remarkable
revelations.

At the door of the house Bud was met by his mother and Mrs. Conroyal,
with Ruth and Iola close behind them. The bringing of the dead body of
the murdered miner into the house had greatly excited both women.

"My son," Mrs. Randolph cried the moment she caught sight of Bud, "what
means this tale of murder and robbery and the bringing of the dead body
of a strange man into the house?"

"Oh, mother, mother," and Bud excitedly caught hold of his mother's
hand, "the most wonderful, the most marvelous thing has happened!"

"What?" and the astonished and horrified woman caught hold of both of
his shoulders and shook him. "Have you gone clean crazy, Bud Randolph,
to speak of murder and robbery like that?"

"I--I," stammered Bud, "I forgot the dead miner. We were too late to
save him; but he lived long enough to tell us--" He stopped abruptly and
glanced swiftly around the room. The secret of the Cave of Gold must not
be proclaimed from the housetops! There was no one in the room with
himself, but the two women and the two girls. "Mother, Mrs. Conroyal,"
he continued, lowering his voice, "the old miner before he died told
Thure and me of a wonderful Cave of Gold that he had discovered in a
gulch somewhere in the mountains; and he made Thure and me his heirs,
and gave us a map, showing the way to the cave, and a huge gold nugget,
which the robbers did not get, that he said he had found in the cave,
and he--But here is Thure! He has the--"

"Hush! Not so loud!" and Thure, who at that moment stepped into the room
from the sala, where the body of the dead miner lay, lifted a warning
hand. "There are many ears in there," and he pointed to the door he had
just closed behind him, "that must not hear what we have to tell. Come,
let us go to your room, mother, where there won't be any danger of what
we have to tell you being overheard," and he started for Mrs. Conroyal's
private room, followed by Bud and the two wondering women and the girls.

"I--I," and Thure stopped at the door of his mother's room and looked
hesitatingly at Iola and Ruth, "I--I reckon it is too great a secret to
tell you two girls just now. You had better wait--"

"No!"--"No!" broke in both girls indignantly, while Ruth, looking as if
she would like to box Thure's ears, declared:

"We girls can keep a secret just as well as you boys can, and you know
it; for, haven't we saved you from many a licking by not telling your
dads what you had been up to? But if this is the way you are going to
treat us, we'll fix you next time," and she shook her head
threateningly.

"Besides," supplemented Iola triumphantly, "we know most of the secret
already. It's about a Cave of Gold and a map and--"

"Oh, Christmas! You couldn't keep nothing from the girls!" and the face
Thure turned to Bud showed his disgust.

"Well, I reckon the secret is just as safe with them as it is with us,"
protested Bud stoutly, flushing a little, "especially when they know how
important it is to keep it secret. You will never tell a word of it to
anybody, will you girls? It--it might mean murder, if you did."

"No, no," affirmed Iola emphatically. "We'll not breathe a word of it to
a living human being. We'll die first. We'll not disappoint your trust
in us, Bud," and she glanced a bit scornfully from Bud to her brother.
"Will we, Ruth?"

"Never," and Ruth's red lips closed tightly over her pearly teeth. "Do
you suppose we'd betray those we love?" and her eyes flashed
indignantly.

"All right. See that you don't, then," and Thure's face cleared. To tell
the truth he was just a little ashamed of the lack of confidence he had
shown in his sister and Ruth. "Anyhow, you know so much now that you
might as well be told the rest, so come on," and he opened the door and
carefully closed and locked it, when all had entered the room.

It did not take many minutes for the two eager boys to tell the story of
the day's remarkable experiences, from the killing of the great grizzly
to the death of the old miner; for the narrative, under the lash of
their active tongues, proceeded in running jumps, from the beginning to
the end and was never allowed to lag an instant.

"And now," concluded Thure excitedly, when the last of the wonderful
tale had been told, "Bud and I must both start for the mines just as
soon as we can get ready; and get father and Rex and Dill and Uncle
Frank and Hammer Jones to help us find this Cave of Gold; and when we
have found it--"

"But," broke in Mrs. Conroyal, smiling at Thure's enthusiasm, although
her own face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling with excitement,
"where is this wonderful gold nugget and skin map, that you tell us the
miner gave you in proof of his remarkable story? You seem to forget that
you have not yet shown us your proof."

"Here, here it is!" and the excited boy thrust one hand into his pocket
and triumphantly pulled out the small buckskin bag; and, swiftly turning
the bag bottom side up, dumped its contents into his mother's lap; and
the next moment, the two women and the two girls were as excitedly
examining the big nugget and the rude skin map as ever they had been
examined by the two boys.

"And the miner told you that the bottom of the cave was covered with
gold nuggets like this?" queried Mrs. Randolph, her eyes shining, as she
held up the nugget.

"Yes, yes," answered Bud. "Thousands of them, only smaller. Of course he
picked up the biggest that he could see. We can go to the mines now,
can't we, mother?"

"And this queer skin map tells you how to find this wonderful Cave of
Gold?" and Mrs. Conroyal spread out the map on her lap and stared
wonderingly at it. "I can't see how all this jumble of crooked lines and
letters can tell you anything."

"Why, it's easy, mother," and Thure bent eagerly over the map. "You see
you start from Hangtown and go in a northeasterly direction to Humbug
Canyon and Three Tree Mountain and Goose Neck Lake and the Devil's Slide
to Lot's Canyon; and then up Lot's Canyon until you come to Crooked Arm
Gulch, and then up Crooked Arm Gulch until you come to the Golden Elbow;
and the cave, you see, is right in the point of the elbow," and Thure's
finger rested excitedly on the black spot on the map marked "cave." "The
cave is about five days from Hangtown, the miner said. We can go to the
mines now, can't we, mother?"

"Hangtown! What a horrid name!" and Mrs. Conroyal shuddered. "But," and
she started to her feet excitedly, "wasn't your father's last letter
sent from Hangtown? I am sure it was," and she hurried to her writing
desk, picked up a letter and glanced eagerly at its heading. "See! It
was! Here is the name," and she pointed triumphantly to the letter.

"You see, it won't be difficult to find the Cave of Gold from the map,
mother, not with dad's help. And, mother, we must start for the mines
just as soon as we can get ready to go. You surely will let us go now!"
and Thure caught hold of his mother's hand. "Say, yes, mother, now;
because Bud and I want to start to-morrow morning, and there is much to
be done before we go."

"My boy," and Mrs. Conroyal's face sobered, "you are all the man that
the mines have left me. Husband, son, servants, all have gone to the
mines, until now you and Bud are the only able-bodied men left on the
rancho--and now the mines are calling you!"

"But, mother, think of what the finding of such a mine means to us all!
And father and Mr. Randolph, if they knew about the Cave of Gold and the
skin map, I am sure would want us to come; and Old Juan and Manuel and
the boys can take care of the rancho; and, you know, if we find the Cave
of Gold and get the gold, then all of us, father and the rest, will be
back soon; and we will be rich; and dad can build you the new house that
you want and furnish it the way that you want it furnished; and Bud and
I can go East and get the education that we need to fit us to do a man's
work in the great new State of California that is bound to be made out
of this country, now that it has become a part of the United States. It
is yes, isn't it, mother? And we can start, can't we, to-morrow
morning?" and Thure's arm went round his mother and he drew her
appealingly to him.

For a minute or two Mrs. Conroyal did not answer. She was battling with
her mother-love. She knew what this quest of the Cave of Gold might
mean--hardships, dangers, even death for those she loved. But she was of
pioneer stock, had often seen her dearest go forth to face the dangers
of the unknown wilderness; and, at last, with something of Spartan-like
fortitude, she turned to Thure.

"Yes, my son, you may go," she said. "You may go to your father and tell
him all; and he will decide about the search for the Cave of Gold."

"Hurrah! We can go! Mother says I can go!" and Thure swung his free hand
around his head.

"And mother says I can go! Hurrah for the gold-mines!" and Bud clapped
his sister on the back, by way of letting off some of the surplus steam
of his enthusiasm. "It will be great! And I'll bring you back a necklace
of gold nuggets, sister mine. Now, we must be getting ready."

"But, first we all have a solemn duty to perform," Mrs. Conroyal said
gravely. "We must give the dead miner decent burial, as we would wish
our own dear ones buried, should they die amongst strangers. See that
the grave is dug, my son; and notify all that the funeral will be held
in the house-sala at the going down of the sun. Come, we will make ready
the house for the funeral," and, followed by Mrs. Randolph and the two
girls, she hurried from the room.

A half an hour later, all who were left on the rancho gathered in the
sala to pay the last respects of the living, who soon must die, to the
dead, who but a short time before lived. There was no minister, no
priest to be had. Mrs. Conroyal read the church service for the dead
over the body of the unfortunate miner; and then six of the oldest and
strongest boys gently lifted the boards on which the corpse lay to their
shoulders and, just as the rays of the setting sun redden the tops of
the western mountains, bore the body slowly to its last resting place,
beneath the outstretched arms of a sturdy oak, on the top of a little
hillock, near the murmuring waters of a small stream that flowed close
by the house.

That night was a busy night at the Conroyal rancho. Everything must be
got ready for the going of Thure and Bud in the morning; and it was
surprising how many things there were that needed doing. But, at length,
long after midnight, everything was in readiness and the two boys
entered their sleeping room for their last night's rest, for they knew
not how long, in the dear old home-house.

"I can hardly realize that we are to start for the mines in the
morning," Thure said, as he quickly undressed and jumped into bed. "All
that has happened to-day seems more like a dream than the reality; and I
am almost afraid that I will wake up in the morning and find that I have
been only dreaming."

"Well," declared Bud, "if it's only dreaming, I'm going to get into bed
and dream some more as quick as I can; so, not meaning to be impolite,
shut up and good night," and he settled himself down comfortably in the
bed and closed his eyes. And, in five minutes, in spite of the feverish
excitements of the day, the two tired boys were sound asleep.




CHAPTER V

OFF FOR THE GOLD-MINES


The next morning when the sun rose, in all the golden glory of dawning
day in beautiful California, above the tops of the eastern mountains and
shone down into the Valley of the Sacramento, its rays fell on an
interesting scene in front of the Conroyal house, where nearly all the
men, women and children of the place had gathered about two heavily
laden pack-horses, four saddled horses, and two boys, and two girls. The
two boys were Thure and Bud, ready to start for the mines, the two girls
were Iola and Ruth, who were to ride with the boys for an hour or so on
their way, the four saddled horses were their riding horses, and the two
pack-horses bore the outfits of the young miners, as well as sundry
tokens of love and affection sent to the dear ones at the mines. The
boys stood at their horses' heads, ready to mount. The very moment of
departure had come.

"Well, I reckon we must be going now. Good-by, mother," and Thure turned
for a last embrace in those dear arms, and then swung himself up into
his saddle.

"God bless you, and protect you, and bring you safe home, my son," and
Mrs. Conroyal, trying in vain to keep back the tears from her eyes and
the sobs from her voice, embraced and kissed Thure farewell and bravely
saw him mount.

Bud tried very hard to control his feelings, but his voice choked a
little and there were tears in his eyes, as he kissed his mother good-by
and jumped into his saddle; and then, just to break the gloom that
seemed to be gathering too thickly about the parting, he jerked off his
hat, and, swinging it around his head, shouted: "Hurrah, for the
gold-mines! Hurrah, we're off for the mines!"

And everybody shouted with him; and, in the midst of the shouting, the
two boys, leading their pack-horses and with Iola and Ruth on their
horses by their sides, rode out of the house-court and started across
the valley toward the distant eastern mountains.

The search for the dead miner's Cave of Gold had begun.

Iola Conroyal and Ruth Randolph were two very lively and high-spirited
girls, just old enough to see all the romance and little of the rough
reality and danger of such a quest as their two brothers had begun. The
wonderful tale of the dying miner, with its Cave of Gold, its
rough-drawn map and its big gold nugget, had appealed very strongly to
their vivid and romantic imaginations; and the starting of Thure and Bud
in search of this marvelous cave had surrounded them, in their eyes,
with something of the glamour that gilds the heroes of romance. They
envied them their quest; they would have gone joyfully with them, if
they could; and now, as they rode along by their sides in the cool
morning air, they could think or talk of little else than this wonderful
quest and of what would happen, if the boys should really and truly find
that marvelous Cave of Gold.

"Will you--will you promise to give me the first gold nugget you pick up
in this wonderful cave?" Ruth said, after they had been riding and
talking for some little while, glancing up a bit shyly into Thure's
face. "I will have a breastpin made out of it and always wear it in
remembrance of that great event--and--and of you," she added in a lower
voice, her face flushing a little.

"Sure I will! I--that is exactly what I had planned to do anyhow," Thure
declared. "And I'll see that it is a big one, Ruth, the biggest that I
can find. And the next nugget I pick up you shall have for a ring; and
then I'll pick up a lot of little nuggets and make you a gold necklace
out of them."

"That will be glorious," and Ruth's eyes shone. "And--and I shall prize
them all very much. Oh, dear, I don't see why we girls were just born
girls and not boys! I never wanted to do anything as much as I want to
go with you and Bud, and help hunt for this Cave of Gold. I'd go anyway,
if mother would let me."

"So would I," Iola declared, her dark eyes and cheeks glowing at the
thought. "It is terrible to be just a girl, when there is anything like
this to be done. We, at least Ruth and I, do not want to be put in a
cage and fed, like canary birds. We want to do things, too; and we could
do things, too, if folks would only let us."

"Hoity-toity!" laughed Thure. "I reckon God knew what He was about when
He made you 'just girls'--just sisters, sweethearts, wives, mothers, the
dearest words spoken in every language the world over; and, for one, I
am powerful glad that He did make you 'just girls.'"

"So am I," Bud agreed, so emphatically that all laughed.

"But, it really does seem too bad that Iola and I have got to stay at
home with our mothers, where nothing exciting ever happens," persisted
Ruth, "while you two, just because you are boys, can go hunting caves of
gold and have all sorts of wonderful adventures--not that I really and
truly would like to be a boy," she added hastily and a little
contradictorily. "Boys are so awkward and have such big feet and hands,
and--and--"

"And are such good fellows to wait on girls," grinned Bud provokingly.

"Which shows girls' real superiority," smiled back Ruth.

"Well, if you are satisfied, what are you kicking for? You haven't heard
Thure and me wishing that we were girls, have you?" queried Bud
triumphantly.

"Well, I should say not, not when you are off on a hunt like this
anyhow!" Ruth rejoined. "Oh, but I do hope you will find that Cave of
Gold! And come back covered with gold nuggets and glory!"

By this time our young friends had reached the foot of the ridge, on
whose top it had been agreed they were to say farewell to one another;
and the thought of the nearness of the parting was suddenly pressed home
to each heart, and they rode to the top of the ridge without speaking a
word. Here they pulled up their horses; and, for a moment, their eyes
looked wistfully into one another's faces, while they sat silent in
their saddles.

"Oh, come, let's have the agony over!" and Bud tried to make his voice
sound cheery and unconcerned. "Good-by, Ruth," and, urging his horse up
close to the side of his sister's horse, he leaned over, threw his arms
around her neck and kissed her. Then he turned and quickly served Iola
in the same way; and, striking spurs into his horse, started off, his
pack-horse tugging at the rope behind him.

Thure hesitated a moment; and then, following Bud's example, quickly
kissed Iola and Ruth good-by, and started after Bud.

"Don't forget that you have promised me the first gold nugget that you
pick up in the cave!" called Ruth.

"Nor the gold necklace!" warned Iola.

Thure and Bud waved their hands and shouted in reply; but rode steadily
on.

The two girls sat on their horses and watched them, until, with final
shouts and the waving of their hats, they passed over the top of a
distant ridge and vanished from sight. Then Iola and Ruth turned their
horses homeward and rode silently down the other side of the ridge. They
did not care to talk, even about the wonderful Cave of Gold, just then.

They had ridden something like a couple of miles on their way homeward
and their tongues were just beginning to wag, girl-like, again, when
both were considerably startled by a loud hallo, coming from behind.
They turned quickly and saw two horsemen, who had just ridden out from
behind a small grove of trees, some twenty rods back and to the right,
and who were now riding toward them.

"I wonder who they can be!" exclaimed Ruth. "I am sure that I never saw
them before; but I suppose we had better wait and find out what they
want. They might be lost. They look like strangers to this part of the
country," and she pulled up her horse.

"Yes," agreed Iola, halting her horse by the side of Ruth. "They are
probably foreigners on their way to the mines; and we had better wait to
see if we can be of any help to them."

In the holster that hung from the pommel of the saddle of each girl
there was a double-barreled pistol, loaded and ready for instant use;
and it was not there for ornament. Both girls had been trained to use
the rifle and the pistol; and never, since Iola's frightful experience
with the Mexican desperado, Padilla, some three years before,[1] had
either girl been permitted to ride, even a short distance from the
house, without having one or both of these weapons with her.
Consequently, trained and armed as they were, they saw nothing to fear
in meeting the two strange horsemen, although they were alone in a
little valley and out of sight and hearing of every other human being,
so far as they knew.

[Footnote 1: For an account of this adventure, see _Fighting With
Fremont_, the preceding book of this series.]

The two horsemen came up on a slow gallop; and pulled up their horses a
dozen feet from the girls.

"We asks your pardon, ladies," said the larger of the two men--a big
red-headed man with a broken nose--as he awkwardly doffed his hat. "But,
seein' you ridin' by, an' thinkin' you might be able tew give us sum
information, we bein' strangers in this part of Californy, we made bold
tew hallo tew you," and he paused, his bold eyes staring admiringly into
the dark face of Iola.

"We will be very glad to help you, if we can," answered Iola, a bit
shortly, for she did not like the looks of the big man with the broken
nose. "What is it you would like to know?"

"Wal," answered the man, glancing toward his companion, "me an' my
pardner was tew meet a man over yonder by that big rock that sticks
itself out of th' ground, like a nose on a man's face," and he pointed
to a huge rock a mile or more away that shot up out of the level of the
valley, not unlike the nose on a man's face. "He was tew git thar 'bout
noon yisterday; an' we haven't seen hide nor ha'r of him yit; an',
gittin' powerful tired of waitin' an' thinkin' you ladies might have
seen him, we stops you tew ask."

"An' bein' a leetle afeared he might have come tew harm," the other
horseman, a small man with a pock-marked face, here broke in, "seein'
that he was a comin' from th' diggin's an' was supposed tew have
considerable gold-dust with him, we makes bold tew stop you ladies tew
ask about him, jest as my pardner says, thinkin' you might have seen
him."

"What--what did he look like?" Iola asked anxiously, the moment the man
paused; for her thoughts had gone instantly to the dead man they had
buried last night, when he had spoken of the man they were looking for
as being on his way back from the diggings.

"Wal, he won't exactly what you ladies would call a beauty," answered
the big man, grinning, "seein' that he'd let his whiskers an' ha'r grow
long an' scraggly all over his face an' head; but you'd a-knowed him, if
you'd a-seen him, by a peecoolyer scar over his left eye, shaped
sumthin' like a hoss-shoe, with th' ends of th' shoe pointin' t'ord th'
corners of th' eye."

"Why," and Iola's face whitened, "he must have been the man our
brothers, Thure and Bud, brought home with them yesterday afternoon! He
had a scar on his forehead like that. Didn't you notice it?" and she
turned to Ruth.

"Yes," Ruth answered, "and he was from the mines."

"Wal, now, that's good news," declared the big man, glancing out of the
corners of his eyes at his companion. "We was afeared sum harm had come
tew him. An' so he's restin' safe an' easy at your home. Now, whar might
that be, if I may be so bold as tew ask?"

"But, he'd been robbed--murdered!" exclaimed Iola. "And it was his dead
body that had been brought to our house. We buried him last night."

"Robbed! Murdered!" almost yelled the big man. "Do you hear that,
Spike?" and he turned excitedly to his companion. "Sumone got him for
his gold, jest as he was afeared they would. An' you say 'twas your
brothers who found him, an' took th' body home with them, an' gave it
decent burial. Now I call that decent, don't you, Spike?" and he glanced
sharply at his companion.

"White an' decent," agreed Spike. "But," and his small snake-like eyes
shifted swiftly from face to face of the two girls, as he spoke, "did
he--did he leave any message for his friends; or, was he dead when your
brothers found him?"

"He lived only a little while," answered Iola. "He had been stabbed by
one of the cowards, and he died before they could get him to the house.
I don't think he left any message. I don't remember of hearing our
brothers say anything about a message, do you?" and she turned to Ruth.

"No," replied Ruth. "He--he left no word for any friend. He only--" she
stopped abruptly, and just in time; for, unthinkingly, she had been
about to speak of the skin map and the Cave of Gold.

Both men started slightly at her words and abrupt stop and flashed swift
glances into each other's eyes.

"Now, that's tew bad," declared the big man. "We sure thought he would
leave a message for us, seein' that he knowed we was here a-waitin' for
him. But, I reckon, we'd better ride on tew th' house with you ladies
an' see them brothers of your'n personal. You see we wants tew make
sart'in 'twas our friend that was robbed and murdered, besides he might
have left sum word for Spike an' me, an' your brothers not have
mentioned it, bein' naturally excited-like over th' robbery an' murder."

"But, you can't see them now!" exclaimed Iola, impulsively. "They left
for the mines this very morning. Why, we parted from them not more than
an hour ago."

Both men started violently at this news, and again the swift suspicious
glances flashed from eyes to eyes, and an ugly threatening look came
into their faces.

"Gone tew th' mines! An' started sudden, this very mornin'!" exclaimed
Spike excitedly. "Did--Did th' old miner say an'thing 'bout whar he
found his gold afore he died?" and his beady black eyes glowed angrily
into the faces of the two girls. "We're his friends, an' have a right
tew know, an' we want tew know, an' we're goin' tew know," and he urged
his horse nearer to the girls.

Both girls were badly frightened by this sudden and unexpected change in
the two men; for there was no mistaking the ugly and dangerous look on
their faces; but neither girl lost her head.

"You will not come a step closer than you now are," and the white hand
of Iola flashed to the pistol in her holster; and Spike, to his evident
horror, suddenly found himself looking straight down into two little
round holes that seemed to his startled eyes as big as the mouths of
cannons.

"And you, too, stay right where you are," and Ruth's pistol suddenly
turned the big man with a broken nose into a wildly staring equestrian
statue. "We two girls are not going to take any chances with you two
men; and--and now that we have given you all the information that we
have for you, you can turn your horses around and ride back the way you
came."

[Illustration: "YOU CAN TURN YOUR HORSES AROUND AND RIDE BACK THE WAY
YOU CAME."]

The faces of both girls had suddenly grown as white as milk; for, almost
at the same moment, each had remembered that the dying miner had
described his two murderers as a big red-headed man with a broken nose
and a small man with a pock-marked face--and they were now looking
straight into the faces of two such men. But the hands that held the
pistols did not tremble; and there was no mistaking the look in the
shining eyes back of the little round holes. They would shoot; and, if
they shot, they would not miss; and it did not take the two men two
seconds to discover these facts.

"Oh, come, this ain't no hold up game, is it, ladies?" and the big man
tried to look as if he considered the whole affair a huge joke; but he
was very careful not to make a threatening move; and he kept his eyes
fixed on the two little round holes of Ruth's pistol, in a horrible
staring way that Ruth never forgot.

"No," Ruth answered shortly. "It is not a hold up; and there is going to
be no hold up in this case," she added significantly; "so just turn your
horses around and gallop back the way you came; and be very careful not
to let your hands go near your belts or to look back while doing it,"
she warned.

"Oh, say, now," began the small man. "This ain't hospital-like. We ain't
meanin' you ladies no harm. We--"

"Drop the talk and turn your horses around and get," Iola commanded so
imperatively, so threateningly that both men, in a sudden panic of
fear--like nearly all rascals they were cowards and those two pistols in
those two girlish hands might go off at any instant--whirled their
horses around and galloped off, while a bullet from one of the barrels
of Iola's pistol, whistling between their heads, added to their panic
and speed.

"Do you," and Ruth turned her white face to Iola, the moment the two men
were at a safe distance, "do you really think they were the two men who
murdered the miner?"

"Yes," answered Iola, as she began reloading her pistol, with hands that
trembled now so that she could hardly pour the powder into the barrel.
"I am sure they were. Ugh! But what a dreadful fright they gave me! I
felt certain they were going to murder us, when they started toward us."

"And--and do you suppose they were trying to find out about that skin
map and the Cave of Gold?" and Ruth's face again began whitening.

"Yes, that is it!" and Iola started. "That was what made them so angry
and ugly, when we told them that Thure and Bud had already started for
the mines. They at once suspicioned that the boys had the map and that
they had started out to find the Cave of Gold. Oh, Ruth," and a look of
horror came into Iola's face, "do you suppose they will start on the
trail of Thure and Bud and try to get the map from them? Why, they might
murder them!"

"That is exactly what I am afraid they will do," declared Ruth, her own
face reflecting the horror in Iola's face. "But you may be sure that two
cowards like them will never get the best of our brothers, unless they
do it in some sneaking underhanded way; and the boys have been warned to
look out for them. It won't take Thure and Bud as long to discover who
they are, as it did us. The instant they see that broken nose and
pock-marked face, they will be on their guard. But I do wish we had said
nothing about the boys starting for the mines. Anyhow that is about all
the information they did get from us that will do them any good, thank
goodness! And they will have a mighty hard time finding and following
their trail, unless they are old hunters and trappers; and they did not
look as if they were. Anyhow it can't be helped now; and the best thing
that we can do is to get back home as quickly as we can."

"I don't think we had better say anything to our mothers about meeting
the two men," Iola said, as with a final look in the direction of the
two horsemen, who were still galloping up the valley, they turned their
horses homeward. "It wouldn't do any good to tell them and they'd worry
a lot."

"You're right. Mum's the word," agreed Ruth; and then both girls struck
their horses sharply and started on a swift gallop for the Conroyal
rancho, where we must leave them for the present and return to Thure and
Bud.




CHAPTER VI

THE SIGN OF THE TWO RED THUMBS


At the date of the happenings here recorded, 1849, the greater part of
California was still an unbroken wilderness, inhabited only by scattered
tribes of Indians and the wild beasts. For some three hundred years the
Spaniards and the Mexicans had occupied a few choice spots along the
coast, with now and then an isolated ranchero in the great interior
valleys of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin Rivers. Then, in 1846, had
come the War with Mexico and the Conquest of California by the
Americans, swiftly followed by the discovery of gold in 1848 and the
great inflow of gold-seekers from all parts of the world of 1849 and
later, who, of course, all rushed pell-mell to the gold regions, leaving
the rest of California more thinly populated than ever. Indeed, in 1849,
all California, except the gold regions, was practically deserted; and,
since the gold regions were located in what had been, a few weeks
before, a mountainous wilderness, nearly everybody in California was
living in the wilderness, and, necessarily, living under primitive
wilderness conditions--a wild, free, independent sort of a life that
quickly brought to the surface the real character of each individual.

Such, then, was the California of 1849, the California of Thure and Bud;
and such were the conditions of the life, the wild romantic life of the
wilderness mining camps, toward which we left our young friends
hastening, their unwilling pack-horses pulling and tugging on the ropes
which were dragging them away from the home-pastures, when we rode a
little way on the homeward journey with Iola and Ruth.

Now, to return to Thure and Bud.

The Conroyal rancho was situated in the Lower Sacramento Valley, some
two-days' journey from Sutter's Fort, near which the City of Sacramento
on the Sacramento River had sprung into a sudden and marvelous
existence; and, as Sacramento City was then the final rendezvous of all
those bound for the mines, some forty miles in the wilderness of
mountains to the east, Thure and Bud, naturally, had headed straight for
this town, intending, when there, to find someone going to Hangtown,
with whom they might journey to this mining camp, where they hoped to
find their fathers and their friends. Both boys were well acquainted
with the trail to Sutter's Fort, having been there frequently with their
fathers; and, since Sacramento City was only a couple of miles or so
from Sutter's Fort, they would have no difficulty in finding their way
thither. The trail, for the greater part of the distance, ran through
beautiful valleys and over low-lying hills, where nature still reigned
unfretted by man and where a human being was seldom seen, consequently
Thure and Bud expected to have a lonely ride to Sacramento City.

For some little while after the departure of the two girls neither boy
spoke. Somehow they did not feel like talking, not even about the
wonderful Cave of Gold, nor the skin map, nor the death of the old
miner. They were thinking of home and the dear ones from whom they had
parted for they knew not how long; and, when boys are thinking deeply of
such things, they do not like talking. But, gloom and sadness cannot
long conquer the spirits of any normal boy; and, at the end of an hour's
riding they were their own lively and talkative selves again.

"I wonder if we can make our old camping-ground to-night?" Thure
questioned doubtfully, as they came to a halt, a little before noon, on
the top of a steep ridge to give their horses a short rest. "If I
remember right, this ridge is not nearly half-way to the place where dad
and I always camped when we went to Sutter's Fort; and it must be nearly
noon now," and he glanced upward at the sun, which was fast nearing the
zenith. "Say, but these old pack-horses are as slow as oxen. I wonder if
we can't do something to hurry them up?"

"We've got to make the old camping-ground tonight, if it takes us till
midnight," Bud answered emphatically. "That is, we've got to, if we
expect to get to Sacramento City to-morrow; and that's where I, for one,
expect to be sometime to-morrow night. I reckon, we'll have to drive
them pack-horses in front of us and use the whip a little."

"A bully idea," Thure agreed. "I wonder why we did not think of it
before. Here, you old slowpoke, get up!" and, whirling his horse around,
he suddenly rode up behind his pack-horse and gave that animal a quick
blow with his whip.

The scheme worked splendidly; and the two boys were soon on their way
again and moving at a considerably increased speed. But, notwithstanding
their accelerated motion, it was not until some three hours after sunset
that the two tired boys and the four tired horses reached the old
camping-grounds, where there was an abundance of water for themselves
and horses and fuel for the camp-fire.

"Well, I swun I am tired!" Thure exclaimed, as he threw himself down
with a sigh of satisfaction on his blanket before the camp-fire, when,
at last, the horses had been unsaddled and unbridled and unpacked and
picketed where they could feed on the rich grass, and the two boys had
eaten their rude meal of broiled venison--they had shot a young deer on
their way--and homemade bread, washed down by a huge tin cup full of
coffee of their own brewing.

"I reckon you are not the only tired boy in this camp to-night," and Bud
spread out his blanket on the ground by the side of Thure's and
stretched himself out on it. "Every bone and muscle in my body has been
just a-teasing me for the last two hours to let up and give them a rest.
Well, we got here anyhow; and I guess we can now make Sacramento City
all right to-morrow night. Say," and he sat up on his blanket with a
jerk at the thought that had suddenly come to him, "do you suppose those
two villains, who robbed and killed the old miner, have found out that
we have the skin map that they committed murder in vain to get? If they
have, I reckon we'll have to be on the lookout for them good and sharp.
Why, they might be on our trail even now!"

"You are right," and Thure sat up quickly. "But I can't see just how
they could know that we have the map. They certainly didn't wait for
introductions when we charged down upon them; and I don't believe they
followed us home--they were too scart, the cowards! But, as Kit Carson
says: 'The time to be cautious is before the Indians get your scalp--not
afterwards.' I reckon that means that we've got to keep guard to-night;
and I don't believe I ever felt more sleepy," and Thure sighed. "But, if
Brokennose and Pockface should happen to be on our trail, they couldn't
ask for anything better than to get us two here alone and asleep
to-night. They sure would have the skin map in the morning, and,
probably, our horses and supplies, and, possibly, our lives. Say, but I
just would like to meet them two cowards when I am awake!" and Thure's
eyes glinted wrathfully.

"Well, I should not be surprised if we had that pleasure before long,"
and Bud's face hardened. "If the old miner told them of the Cave of Gold
and the skin map, and he said he did, they sure will be on the lookout
for the party with the map; and it wouldn't take much inquiring for them
to find out that it was us that brought the dead miner home; and then, I
reckon, it won't take them two minutes to guess what started us so
sudden-like for the mines. I sure hope they won't find us until we get
to our dads and Rex and Dill and Hammer Jones. I'd feel safe enough
then. You see, we are guarding not only our lives, but also the Cave of
Gold; and the finding of that cave means a lot to all of us."

"It sure does," Thure agreed. "Luck has been against both of our dads
lately; and, well, we've just got to find that Cave of Gold; and we are
going to find it, in spite of all the broken noses and pockmarked faces
in the world. But, it won't do to sit here talking all night. We must
get all the sleep we can. Who will stand guard first?"

"I will," Bud answered, picking up his rifle and rising; "so get into
your blanket and asleep as quick as you can. It must be almost midnight
now."

"All right," and Thure began rolling himself up in his blanket. "Wake me
in about two hours, and I'll stand guard the rest of the night. We want
to be on our way as soon as it is light enough to see. Good night," and
in five minutes Thure was as dead to his surroundings as the log near
which he lay.

Bud picked up his blanket and moved off into the dark shadows of the
low-hanging branches of an evergreen oak and out of the light of the
camp-fire, where he could watch, seeing but unseen.

The night had grown dark and cool--all California nights are chilly; and
Bud wrapped his blanket around him and, leaning up against the trunk of
the tree, looked out into the darkness surrounding the lone camp-fire.
In the distance a coyote was making the night hideous with his
demoniacal howlings. From a near tree came the lonesome hoot of an owl.
All else was still, save from all around came the mysterious sounds of
the wilderness at night, suggestive of the low whisperings and talking
of uneasy spirits.

But all this was commonplace to Bud. He had often spent the night out in
the open, had often stood guard by a lonely camp-fire, when darkness was
all around and only the weird voices of the night were heard; and he
gave little thought to these things. He was very tired and very sleepy
and it took about all the thought power he had to compel himself to stay
awake.

An hour past. There had not been a suspicious sound nor movement; and
Bud began to feel more secure, began to relax some of his vigilance,
began to close his eyes now and then for a brief moment, began to lean
more comfortably against the trunk of the tree--then, suddenly, he
straightened himself up with a jerk, his eyes wide open, his cocked
rifle held ready for instant use. Sure he had heard a sound, a sound
that did not belong to the night, a thud like the fall of some heavy
body on soft ground, and coming from the direction of the camp-fire! For
a moment he stared, tense with excitement, toward the camp-fire, now
glowing dully; but he saw nothing unusual, heard nothing unusual. Thure
still lay by the side of the log, his form showing faintly in the dull
light. The horses were grazing quietly--he could just distinguish their
forms through the darkness. They showed no alarm.

"Queer! I certainly heard something fall; and right near! Well, I reckon
I had better make sure that everything is all right with Thure," and Bud
very cautiously stepped out from the shadows of the tree and, moving
softly, crept up to where Thure lay. His deep regular breathing told him
that he was sound asleep and that all was well with him.

"Must have been dreaming," he muttered in disgust, and returned to his
station under the tree; but he did not close his eyes again.

There were no other suspicious sounds during the remainder of his watch,
nor during the watch of Thure; and the dawning of morning found both
boys and all their belongings safe and sound.

"Did you see or hear anything suspicious during your watch?" was Bud's
first query, when Thure awoke him the next morning.

"No. Why?" answered Thure. "Did you?"

"Well, I--I don't know," and Bud jumped to his feet and began looking
sharply around over the ground near the camp-fire.

Suddenly he uttered an exclamation and, bending quickly down, picked up
a large flat stone that was lying between the log, near which Thure had
slept, and the camp-fire.

"I--I don't remember of seeing this stone here last night," and he
turned it over curiously; and then uttered another exclamation that
brought Thure to his side on the jump.

The stone was flat, some three inches thick, nearly round, and,
possibly, a foot in diameter. One side was nearly white and smooth; and
the astonished eyes of the boys read, rudely written on this side,
evidently with a piece of charred coal, these ominous words:

     LEVE THE MAP TO THE MINERS CAVE UNDER THIS STON NEAR YOUR CAMP FIRE
     WHEN YOU BRAKE CAMP IN THE MORNING AND NEVER TELL NOBODY WHAT THE
     MINER TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CAVE--OR WELL GIT YOU THE SAME AS WE GOT
     THE MINER--LIFE IS WURTH MOREN GOLD AND YOULL NEVER LIVE TO GIT THE
     GOLD.

Under these words were the red prints of two thumbs--one the mark of a
huge thumb and the other the mark of a much smaller thumb--as if their
owners had covered their thumbs with blood and then pressed them against
the stone, in lieu of signatures.

For a full two minutes the two boys stood staring at these words, their
faces whitening and their eyes widening.

"How--how did this get here?" Thure was the first to speak.

For answer Bud leaped to the log, by the side of which Thure had slept,
and, bending over it, looked closely at the ground on the other side.

"Right from behind this log!" he exclaimed, after a moment's scrutiny of
the ground. "The fellow that threw that stone crept up behind this log
and then got up on his knees and tossed the rock to where we found it.
You can still see the prints of his knees and toes in the ground. I
thought I heard a sound like the fall of something heavy during my
watch; but I was half asleep when I heard it," and Bud's face flushed a
little; "and when I couldn't see anything suspicious or find anything
suspicious or hear any more suspicious sounds, I concluded I had only
fancied I had heard the sound. But that is sure no fancy," and his eyes
glared at the stone, which Thure still held.

"And I was sound asleep right on the other side of that log at that very
moment!" and Thure's weather-bronzed face whitened a little. "No more
logs for bedfellows for me!"

"Yes, and he must have been lying right on the other side of that log,
when I bent over you to see if you were all right," added Bud. "If I'd
been only smart enough to look, it might have saved us from a lot of
trouble," and Bud's lips tightened grimly.

"Better as it is," Thure declared. "Now, we've had our warning and
nobody hurt; but, if you had discovered the fellow behind the log,
they'd have got you, sure, and, probably, me, too. Both were doubtless
on hand; and would have shot you before you could have done anything, if
you had discovered one of them. Now, I reckon, if they had found the
camp unguarded, they were intending to have a try for the map then and
there--and they would have got it! Well, what do you think about doing
as they ask, and leaving the map under the stone? It seems from what
that stone says--"

"What!" and Bud turned in astonishment to Thure. "Give up that map to a
couple of the biggest cowards and cut-throats in California? I'd sooner
give them every drop of blood in my body. I--"

"Well, you need not get so rambunctuous over it," laughed Thure. "But,"
and his face sobered, "I reckon that that there is no idle threat," and
he pointed to the flat stone, which now lay on the ground at his feet;
"and I fancy the sooner we get to our dads the better it will be for us.
Not that I'd be afraid of those two skunks," he added hastily, "if
they'd come out in the open, where one could see them; but I do not care
for any more creeping upon a fellow in the dark, when he's asleep," and
he glanced shudderingly toward the log. "But, there is no use of talking
any more about it. Let's get busy. We must make Sacramento City to-night
sure."

In a very short time breakfast was eaten, the horses saddled and bridled
and packed, and the two boys ready to mount and to start on their way
again.

"Now, for our answer to that there message," and Thure picked up the
flat stone and dropped it into the camp-fire. "I reckon that will tell
them what we think of their threat; and that we're too old to be scart
like little school boys," and he sprang on the back of his horse. "Now
for Sacramento City!" and the two boys, with watchful eyes glancing all
around them, resumed their lonely journey toward the new city on the
Sacramento.




CHAPTER VII

CAUGHT IN THE FLOOD


In July, 1849, the tide of gold-seekers had not yet set in at its
greatest flow. It was too early in the year for the thousands of
emigrants coming across the plains and the mountains to the east or for
those journeying by ship from the more distant parts of the world to
have reached the Eldorado of their golden hopes; but from every
inhabited part of California and the region to the north, from Mexico
and the Pacific coast southward and from the nearer islands of the
Pacific a constant stream of gold-seekers had been flowing into the gold
regions for nearly a year. Those coming by ship landed at San Francisco;
and from there reëmbarked in smaller boats and were carried up the
Sacramento River to Sacramento City, the nearest point to the mines
reached by boat, or made the journey overland on horseback, or with
mule- or horse- or oxen-drawn wagons, or even on foot. Many of the
Mexicans and a few of the South Americans came overland, while nearly
all of those coming from Oregon territory, whither many emigrants had
gone from the States during the past few years, made the journey
southward to Sacramento City the same way they had crossed the great
plains and the mountains, when they had sought new homes in the Great
Northwest a few years before--that is, by way of the prairie-schooner,
afoot and on horseback, traveling in small companies for mutual
protection.

All of these different streams of inflowing gold-seekers were too far
south for Thure and Bud to strike until they were nearly to Sacramento
City, except that from Oregon, flowing from the north; and they hardly
expected to find this stream still flowing, since those regions were
supposed to have been already drained of all their gold-seeking
inhabitants. But, hardly had they ridden an hour on their way that
morning, when, on coming to the top of a low ridge of hills and looking
down into the valley beyond, they saw half a dozen white-topped wagons,
accompanied by a number of men, some on horseback and some afoot, a
couple of miles ahead of them and about to pass over another ridge of
hills.

"Hurrah!" yelled Thure, at sight of the wagons and the men. "I'll bet a
coon skin that they are bound for Sacramento City and the gold-diggings,
too. Come, let's hurry up our horses and see if we can't overtake them.
I'll feel a lot safer when we're in with that crowd," and his keen eyes
glanced swiftly over the valley in front of them. "There are too many
places along this trail, where them skunks could hide and shoot us
without our getting a shot back at them, to suit me. But they will
hardly venture to take a shot at us, while we are with a crowd of armed
men like that. Hurrah! Come on!" and, striking his pack-horse with his
whip, Thure hurried on down the hill.

A couple of hours later the two boys overtook the slower-moving train of
wagons; and were given a hearty welcome by the gaunt, roughly dressed
and rougher-looking men, who, as they had surmised, were bound for the
gold-mines.

Thure, as they joined the little company of prospective miners, turned
and looked backward, just in time to see two horsemen appear on the brow
of a distant hill, halt their horses and sit staring in their direction
for a couple of minutes; and then, wheeling their horses about disappear
down the other side of the hill.

"Queer!" thought Thure. "I should think they'd be only too glad to join
us, unless," and his heart gave a jump at the thought, "unless they were
Brokennose and Pockface following on our trail! I wonder--"

But here the men of the wagon-train, gathering excitedly about him and
all eagerly asking questions, drove all further thoughts of the two
solitary horsemen out of his head.

There were fifteen men, two women, and three children--a girl of
fourteen and two boys thirteen years old--in the company; and all had
come from the great wilderness to the north, whither they had gone from
the States some three years before. They had been traveling for many
days southward, through a wilderness inhabited only by wild beasts and
Indians, without seeing a human being, except a few Indians, although
they had passed a number of deserted ranchos on their way down the
Sacramento Valley, until Thure and Bud rode into their midst. All the
men were armed with long-barreled rifles, huge knives, and some of them,
in addition, carried a pistol or a revolver. They were dressed for the
most part in deerskins and their hair and beards had grown so long, that
only their bright eyes and bronzed noses and gleaming white teeth, when
they smiled or opened their mouths, were visible. All the other features
of their faces were hidden behind matted locks of hair. The faces of the
women and the children had been browned by the sun, until they were
nearly of the color of Indians, and their clothing was soiled and worn;
but all were clear-eyed and looked as if they did not know what a bodily
ache or pain was.

Thure and Bud were too familiar with this type of wilderness manhood to
be worried in the least over their rough looks and dress. They knew
something of the real men that usually dwelt within these rough
exteriors--the men who hewed the way for civilization through the
wilderness, the men of the rifle, the trap, and the ax, strong and
sturdy and as gnarled and knotted as the oaks of their own forests, yet
as true to a friend or to the right as they saw it, as the balls in
their rifles were to their sights--and neither boy hesitated an instant
to accept their invitation to "jog along" with them to Sacramento City.

For a few minutes the whole company halted and crowded excitedly around
Thure and Bud. They had heard no news of the world outside of their
little company for many days; and they were especially anxious to hear
the latest news from the diggings.

"Sure th' gold ain't petered out yit?" queried one of the men anxiously.

"No," answered Thure, smiling. "According to dad's last letter they were
discovering new diggings almost every day and all the old diggings were
still panning out well. Why, he wrote that the fellow who had the claim
right next to his claim had found a pocket the day before, out of which
he had taken in one day one thousand dollars' worth of gold nuggets!"

"Say, young man," and a great, huge-boned, lank man crowded eagerly up
to Thure's side, "jest say them words over ag'in; an' say 'em loud, so
that Sal can hear. She's bin callin' me a fool regular 'bout every hour
since we started for th' diggings. Says she'll eat all th' gold I find
an' won't have no stumick-ake neither. Now, listen, Sal," and he turned
excitedly to one of the two women, who stood together on the outskirts
of the little crowd of men around Thure and Bud. "Jest listen tew what
this boy's own dad rit home," and again he turned his eager eyes on
Thure's face.

Thure laughed and repeated, in a louder voice, the story of the miner's
good luck.

"Did you hear that, Sal?" and again the big man turned excitedly to the
woman. "One Thousand Dollars' wurth of gold nuggets picked right up out
of a hole in th' ground in one day! Gosh, that's more gold than we ever
seed in our lives! An' he found it all in one day! Good lord! in ten
days he'd have Ten Thousand Dollars! An' in one hundred days he'd have
One Hundred Thousand Dollars!" he almost shouted.

"Well, what if he did have one hundred thousand dollars! What good would
that do you? That's what I'd like tew know, Tim Perkins? He'd have th'
gold, not you, wouldn't he?" and the woman turned a thin care-worn face
to her big husband.

"But," and the big fellow's eyes fairly shone with enthusiasm, "can't
you see, Sal, that that proves that th' gold is thar; an', th' gold
bein' thar, I stand as good a chance as anybody else of runnin' ontew a
pocket like that. Good lord, a Thousand Dollars in One Day! Think of
what that would mean tew us, Sal! Edication for th' boy an' gal, a
comfortable home for us as long as we live! If we could only have sech
luck! An' I've bin dreamin' of findin' gold almost every night since we
hooked up an' started for th' diggin's!"

"An' your dreamin' always comes true!" replied Mrs. Perkins scornfully.
"Well, I've only got this tew say, an', if I've sed it onct, I've sed it
a hundred times, this is our last wild-goose chasin' trip. You'll settle
down for keeps, th' next time you settle down, Tim Perkins, gold or no
gold; or you'll do your chasin' alone," and she turned and climbed back
into one of the wagons, not at all moved by her big husband's
enthusiasm.

"Sal's some downhearted," the big fellow explained to Thure, "'cause
things ain't turned out for us like we expected since comin' tew Oregon.
But," and his face lighted up again, "jest wait till I make my strike in
th' diggings an' nuthin' 'll be tew good for her an' th' yunks."

"Do you reckon we can make Sacramento City tew-night?" here broke in one
of the men anxiously. "We was a calculatin' that we might."

"Yes," answered Thure, "if you are willing to travel late; but you'll
have to hustle to do it."

"Then we'll hustle," declared the man, who appeared to be the captain of
the little company. "Everybody who wants tew git to Sacramento City
tew-night git a-goin'," he shouted. "Th' gold stories'll keep till we
git thar," and he hurried away to his own wagon, which was in the van;
and soon, with much loud shouting and the cracking of the long lashes of
whips, the little train of wagons was again in motion.

Thure and Bud fell in at once by the side of the leader, who, learning
that they were familiar with the trail to Sacramento City, had asked
them to act as guides.

All the wagons were drawn by big raw-boned and long-legged mules; and
the two boys soon found that they had to use their whips freely on their
sturdy little pack-horses in order to hold their places in the train.

All day long they pressed steadily forward, as fast as mule legs could
drag the heavy wagons; and, a little before night, they struck the
northern trail from San Francisco to Sacramento City, now a
well-traveled road. Here, for the first time, Thure and Bud began to get
something of an idea of what the rush to the gold-mines was like. There
were some twenty-five wagons, a hundred or more horsemen, and many men
on foot in sight of their eyes, when their wagons swung around a small
hill and on to the trail, now hardened into a road by the thousands of
wheels and hoofs that had recently passed over it; and all were hurrying
forward, as if they were fearful they would be too late to reap any of
the golden harvest.

"Great buffaloes!" and Tim Perkins turned anxiously to Thure, by whose
side he was riding, "dew you reckon all them folks are bound for the
diggin's?"

"Yes," answered Thure. "Can't you see that everyone is armed with a pick
and shovel and gold-pan? Why, even the men on foot are lugging picks and
shovels and gold-pans on their backs!"

"An'," continued Tim, the anxious look on his face deepening, "dew you
reckon they've bin a-tearin' over th' trail tew th' diggin's like this
for long; or is this jest a stampede we have struck?"

"A ship has probably landed at San Francisco lately," Thure replied;
"and these are some of the gold-seekers who came in it. But I don't
think from what I have heard that what we are seeing is an unusual sight
along this trail. They've been rushing to the mines like a herd of
stampeding cattle for months."

"Gosh! I'm afeard they'll find all th' gold afore we git thar! If
'twon't for Sal an' th yunks I'd hurry on ahead. Dang it, if I was only
thar right now I might be discoverin' a pocket full of gold, like that
miner aside your dad did, at this identical moment! Hi, thar, Jud," and
he turned his eyes glowing with excitement to the face of the
train-captain, "let's see if we can't git ahead of some of this tarnel
crowd; or they'll be a-landin' on all the good spots afore we git thar."

"Now, jest keep a tight rein on your hosses, Perkins," grinned Jud
Smith, the leader of the little company of Oregon gold-seekers; "an'
rekerleck th' old sayin' 'th' more haste th' less speed,' But," and an
uneasy look came into his own eyes, "it sure does look like all creation
had started for th' diggin's. See, they're still a-comin' as far back as
th' eyes can reach! I reckon we had better try an' hit up a leetle
livelier gait. G'lang, thar, you long-eared repteels!" and the long lash
of his whip hissed through the air and cracked, like the report of a
pistol, over the heads of his leading mules.

Indeed, it seemed to be impossible for even the sanest of men to mingle
long with a crowd of hurrying gold-seekers and think of what they were
hurrying for, and not catch the fever of unreasoning haste. The thought
that they might be too late, that each moment they might be missing a
golden opportunity by not being on the spot, seemed to obsess all minds;
and the nearer they got to the gold-fields the greater became this
excitement and hurry, until it degenerated into little more than a wild
stampede of gold-mad men.

And no wonder! for the nearer they got to the mines the bigger the
stories seemed to grow of the wonderful gold finds that were being made.
Nay, more than this! They now sometimes actually saw the gold and
actually met the men who had found it, as they were returning to the
comforts and pleasures of civilization, actually burdened down with the
weight of the precious metal they were carrying! And, what if all this
gold should all be dug up before they got to the mines! The thought was
enough to put the fever of haste into the blood of any man.

The knowledge of having the skin map and the thought of the Cave of Gold
to which it pointed the way, did not keep Thure and Bud from feeling
this excitement, this wild desire to hurry, as their little company
swung into line on the trail and rushed madly on with the rest. True the
skin map and the gold nugget, still in the miner's buckskin bag, hung,
safely hidden, under the armpit of Thure's left shoulder; but the old
miner himself had found the Cave of Gold, and, if he had found it, why
might not some other man find it? That was the disturbing thought that
had troubled the two boys all along; and now, when they began to realize
how great was the flood of gold-seekers constantly pouring into the
mining regions and how their keen eyes would be searching everywhere,
their anxiety to get to their fathers as quickly as possible grew apace,
until they were almost as eager to reach the mines as was Tim Perkins
himself; and, by a constant urging of their pack-horses, managed to keep
their places with Jud Smith and his company.

However, in spite of all their hurrying, it was after nine o'clock at
night and dark before they reached the west bank of the Sacramento River
opposite Sacramento City. Here they found a hundred wagons and many
animals and men ahead of them, waiting to be ferried across the river;
and, to their very great disappointment, they were obliged to wait until
the next morning before crossing over to Sacramento City.

"Well, we are within sight of Sacramento City anyhow," declared Thure,
when Jud Smith returned from the ferry with the news that they would be
obliged to camp on that side of the river for the night; "and, I reckon,
it is just as well that we don't cross over to-night. I'll feel just a
little better entering a town like that in the clear light of day," and
his eyes looked in astonishment and wonder across the dark waters of the
river to where the myriad lights of Sacramento City shone along the
opposite bank.

The last time Thure had stood where he was now standing, only a little
over a year ago, and looked across the Sacramento River, not a sign of a
human habitation was in sight where now shone the thousands of lights of
a busy city!

"Isn't it a wonderful sight!" exclaimed Bud, as the two boys stood a
little later on the river bank, staring, with fascinated eyes, across
the water. "Looks more like a dream-city, or a scene in fairyland, than
it does like a real town inhabited by real people."

And Bud was right. It was a marvelous sight that the two boys were
looking at, a sight the like of which, probably, no human eye will ever
look upon again.

Along the river bank for a mile or more and stretching back from the
water's edge up the slope of the low-lying hills, glowed and sparkled a
city of tents, pitched in the midst of a virgin forest of huge oak and
sycamore trees. It is impossible for words to convey to the mind the
mystic charm of this wonderful city of light, when seen by night across
the dark waters of the river. Nearly all the houses were but rude frames
walled with canvas, or merely tents; and, in the darkness, the lights
within transformed these into dwellings of solid light, that glowed in
rows along the river front, their lights reflected in the water, and
straggled in glowing rows of light up the hillsides and underneath the
dark overhanging branches of great trees, while here and there through
the general glow shone out brilliant points of light, the decoy-lamps of
the gambling-houses and the saloons. And, for a background to all this,
the shadowy darkness of the surrounding night!

Thure and Bud were very tired; but they stood for many minutes looking
on this wondrous and fairylike scene, half expecting to see it all
vanish instantly at the wave of some magician's wand, before they turned
to prepare for the night. On their way back to camp and just as they
were passing a large camp-fire, they met two horsemen riding down toward
the ferry.

"No crossing to-night!" called out Thure.

The two horsemen turned their faces in their direction; and both boys
started, for, by the light of the camp-fire, they saw that one of the
men was large and the other was small and that the nose of the large man
had been broken, and then the darkness hid their faces from their sight,
as the two horsemen hurried on without uttering a word in reply.




CHAPTER VIII

ACCUSED OF MURDER


There were no laggards in the camp on the west side of the Sacramento
River the next morning. Long before sun-up a line of wagons and animals
and men stood waiting at the ferry, ready to be carried across the
river; and among the first of these were our anxious young friends,
Thure and Bud. They had pushed on ahead of their fellow travelers of the
day before, the little company of Oregon gold-seekers, who had been
delayed in getting into the line on account of their wagons, and were
fortunate enough to get near the ferry; and, just as the first rays of
the morning's sun looked down on the novel and interesting scene, they
led their animals on board the ferry-boat.

The boat was jammed with men and wagons and horses and mules and oxen.
The men were all talking excitedly of the mines, the animals were
frightened and restless--indeed, all living beings seemed to breathe in
excitement and restlessness and anxiety out of the very air, with every
breath they drew into their bodies.

"Glory be!" commented Bud, as his eyes looked over the motley gathering
of men that crowded every available spot on the boat, "but this is a
queer-looking lot of men to see in the wilds of California! Looks like
every nation in the world was represented right here in this one boat
load and sounds like the confusion of tongues at the tower of Babel.
There sure has got to be a lot of gold, if everybody gets a share!" and
his face clouded. "Say, but this boat is slow!" and he turned his
impatient eyes toward the shore, where, in the garish light of day, the
city of canvas seemed real enough, but not a whit less wonderful, only
in an entirely different way, than had the magic city of light the night
before.

A forest of masts grew from a multitude of boats strung along the river
front, and stood out in striking contrast against the leaved branches of
the trees on the shore. The boats were moored to strong trunks and huge
sinewy roots; and the larger number of them turned out "to grass," that
is, leased as shops and dwelling houses. Signboards and figure-heads
from the boats were set up along the shore, facing the levee; and back
of them, up the gentle slopes of the hills lying between the Sacramento
and the American Rivers, for the town was built at the junction of these
two rivers, ran the streets of this novel city, lined with their
odd-looking canvas houses and tents. Great forest-trees, some of them
six feet in diameter, towered here and there above the houses and the
streets, their huge column-like trunks and outspreading boughs, clothed
with green leaves, adding the needed touch of romanticism to complete
the unique picturesqueness of the scene. Everywhere was bustle and
excitement. Men were hurrying in and out of the doors of the shops and
of the saloons and up and down the streets. Drivers were shouting and
cursing at their horses, mules, or oxen; whips were cracking; and wheels
were rumbling and creaking. Parties of miners here and there, with loud
shouts of farewell, were starting off for the mines, loaded down with
pickaxes and shovels, with gold-pans and frying-pans, and other
equipments of the rude camp-life they were preparing to live. Sun-up,
everybody up, seemed to be the motto of all Sacramento City.

Into the midst of this wild hurly-burly Thure and Bud plunged directly
from the ferry-boat. At first they hardly knew what to do with
themselves and horses. Never had they been in a scene of such excitement
and confusion before. It fairly made their heads whirl; but, boy-like,
they enjoyed every bit of it, as, with their keen young eyes glancing in
every direction, they rode, holding their frightened pack-horses close
to their sides, slowly up what seemed to be the main street of the city.

"Say," and Bud pointed to a large sign on the front of one of the few
frame buildings, which read "City Hotel," "that looks like a place to
eat. Let's tie our horses outside and go in and get our breakfast. I'm
as hungry as a bear; and--and--well we can talk over what we had better
do next while we are eating. Glory be, I did not suppose Sacramento City
was like this!" and he grinned.

The boys had been in too much of a hurry to get across the river to stop
to prepare their own breakfast that morning, consequently Thure at once
welcomed Bud's suggestion; and, jumping off their horses, the two lads
tied their animals to near-by trees and walked into the City Hotel,
bravely trying to look and act as if they were accustomed to living at
hotels all their lives, although, to tell the truth, neither boy had
even seen a hotel before for ten years.

They found the dining-room and seats at one of the tables without much
difficulty; and after some little study of the bill-of-fare, during
which they forgot to look at the prices, they gave their order to the
waiter--God save the mark! no, to the steward; for there the word
"waiter," was never used, it not being considered a sufficiently
respectable calling for a man who a few months before might have been a
lawyer, a doctor, a merchant, or even a minister. The food was soon set
before them; and, as they ate, they talked over the situation.

"The first thing for us to do," declared Thure, "is to find some miners
bound for Hangtown, and then make arrangements to go with them; and the
only way to do this is to start out and ask everyone who looks as if he
was going to the diggings, if he is going to Hangtown, or knows of
anyone who is. I reckon it won't take us long to find someone; and, if
possible, we want to get on our way to-day."

Bud promptly sanctioned this plan; and, accordingly, it was agreed that,
as soon as they finished their breakfast, they would start out to find
someone bound for Hangtown.

"I'll pay the bill," magnanimously announced Thure, when the last morsel
of food and the last swallow of coffee had vanished down their throats,
and he turned to the smiling steward.

The steward wrote for a minute or so on a little pad of paper; and then,
tearing off a sheet, handed it to Thure. It was the bill for their
breakfast and read:

    4 fried eggs                             $6.00
    1 leg of mutton (with potatoes)           2.25
    1 leg of veal (with potatoes)             2.25
    2 cups of coffee (with milk)              1.50
    Bread (with butter) for two               2.00
    2 pieces of pie                           1.50
                                            ------
                           Total            $15.50

"Great Moses!" and Thure stared in the utmost astonishment at the piece
of paper he held in his hand, "does this mean that we are to pay Fifteen
Dollars and a Half for what we have just eaten?"

"Yes," smiled the steward, who had evidently been a lawyer before he
became a steward, "fifteen dollars and fifty cents is all. Eggs and
butter came down a little to-day; and we always give our patrons the
benefit of a fall in prices at once. You will see that your bill is
correct by glancing at the prices on the bill-of-fare."

Thure transferred his stare, for a moment, to the face of the smiling
steward; and then, picking up the bill-of-fare, he saw that the prices
were correct, and paid the bill.

"I see that you have already found your goldmine," he remarked, as he
handed the cashier the money.

"And without digging in mud and gravel for the gold," the cashier
replied, with a grin and a wink. "But, there is not as much gold in it
as you might think. Now, how much do you suppose those eggs cost me a
dozen?" and he pointed to the egg item on the bill-of-fare.

"Never sold any," smiled back Thure. "We always gave them away."

"Huh! I'll take a car load at that price. Now, them identical eggs that
you ate this morning cost me at the rate of Thirteen Dollars and
Seventy-five cents a dozen, wholesale! I reckon you are new to the
diggings, or you would know that prices on everything have gone soaring
up like skyrockets," and the cashier, who happened also to be the
proprietor, threw up both hands despairingly toward the ceiling. "Say,
what do you suppose I have to pay the fellow who washes the dishes?
Seventy-five Dollars a week and keep! And the cook, Mother of men! he
gets One Hundred and Eighty-five Dollars a week! Got to pay it, or
they'll go to the diggings."

"Excuse me," broke in Bud, who at this moment suddenly thought that no
one would be apt to know more about the goings and the comings of the
miners, than the hotelkeeper, himself. "But, do you happen to know of
any miners in town who are going to Hangtown? We expect to find our dads
there; and want to get away from here as soon as we can."

"Now," and the broad forehead wrinkled, "let me think. Sure!" and the
wrinkles vanished. "Yankee Tom and his company were to start for
Hangtown this morning; and, I reckon, if you hustle, you can yet get to
them before they start. You see--"

"Where'll we find them?" broke in Thure eagerly. He was too anxious to
be off to care to listen longer to the talkative landlord.

"See that big sycamore over yonder?" and the landlord pointed through
the open door to where a giant tree lifted its head far above its
surroundings.

"Yes."

"Well, Yankee Tom's camp is under that tree. Just head for that tree,
and you will sure hit his camp, if he is still there; but you'd better
hustle," and the landlord turned to attend to other guests.

Thure and Bud at once hurried out to where they had left their horses;
and were soon mounted and hastening toward the big tree. Their route,
for a short distance, lay through a very busy street, with shops of all
kinds and innumerable gambling--and drinking-hells on both sides. Great
crowds of men were hurrying in and out of these places; and the street
was so jammed with wagons and horses and mules and oxen and men that
Thure and Bud found considerable difficulty in making their way through
it.

"No more hotel eating for me," declared Thure, with a grimace, as they
made their way as speedily as possible through this crowded street. "A
Dollar and a Half for an Egg! But won't mother's eyes open when she
hears that?"

"Well, eggs are not the only things that are high. Just look at that
sign there," and Bud pointed to a large sign in front of one of the
stores, on which the storekeeper had recorded the day's bargains. The
sign read:

     THE BEST AND THE CHEAPEST PLACE

     TO BUY YOUR OUTFITS A FEW OF TO-DAY'S SPECIAL BARGAINS THAT CANT BE
     BEAT ANYWHERE IN THE CITY

     Best flour ten pounds for only          $15.00
     Rice, five pounds for only                5.00
     Potatoes, a heaped-up bushel, only       35.00
     Good butter only                          2.00 per pound
     Barley only                               1.00 per quart
     Best white beans only                     6.50
     Candles only                              1.00 each.
     Best Salaratus only                      14.50 per pound
     Hip boots, warranted waterproof         100.00
     Pair of pantaloons, good quality          36.00
     Sugar--good--only                          2.00 per pound
     Coffee, five pounds for                    9.00
     Good picks, shovels, tin-pans at only     57.00 each.

"Whew!" and Thure drew in a long breath, when he had finished reading
the sign. "It's lucky we brought our outfits along with us, or we'd be
bankrupt before we could get out of Sacramento City. Well, those prices
certainly prove that the gold is here. Nobody could live if it wasn't.
And, when you stop to think that most of the stuff has to be brought
thousands of miles and then packed for some two hundred miles more into
a roadless wilderness, the prices don't look so high--Well, what's the
rumpus now?" and Thure whirled partly around on his horse to look back
to where a huge red-headed man had suddenly jumped up on top of a barrel
in front of one of the stores, and was yelling something, just what he
could not understand, and pointing excitedly in his direction.

A sound, like a growl from the throats of a hundred angry wolves, went
up from the surrounding crowd, and a great wave, headed by the
red-headed man, rolled threateningly toward the two wondering boys.

"What--what can be the trouble?" and Bud turned an anxious face to
Thure. "They look mad; and they are coming straight toward us! What can
have happened? Who are they after?" and he looked confusedly around.

"Pull them off their horses!"

"Hang them!"

"The murderers!"

The air was now filled with these and similar dreadful cries and men
came running toward them from all directions; and, before the two boys
could fairly realize what was happening, they found themselves the
center of a seething crowd of excited and angry men, while a hundred
armed hands were lifted threateningly toward them.

"God in heaven, they are after us!" and Thure, too utterly astounded for
the moment to realize the terrible nature of their situation, stared
wildly into the surrounding angry faces. "What--what--"

But, before he could put his stammering dumbfounded query, strong hands
seized and jerked him roughly from his horse, while other hands at the
same moment jerked Bud off his horse. One of the men who seized and
pulled Thure from his horse was the big red-headed man, who had jumped
up on top of the barrel and who had led the rush against the two boys.
The moment Thure looked into his face he started back in horror. The man
had a broken nose!

At this moment and before either boy had collected his startled wits
sufficiently to even offer a protest or to demand what this rough laying
on of hands meant, a big man drove, like a sharpened wedge, through the
crowd, and halted, with a hand tightly gripping the coat collar of each
terrified lad.

"What is the trouble?" he demanded authoritatively. "What have the young
men done?"

"The sheriff!" yelled someone in the crowd. "It's Turner, the sheriff!"

"Yes, it's Turner, the sheriff," and the man tightened his grips on
Thure's and Bud's collars. "Hands off. They are my prisoners now," and
he turned a bit impatiently to the men, whose hands still had hold of
the boys. "Well, what have they done?"

"Murder!" "Murder!" yelled a dozen voices from the crowd.

"Why, they are little more than boys!" and the sheriff turned his eyes
in astonished horror on Thure and Bud. "Who accuses them?"

"Me an' my pard do," and the big red-headed man with a broken nose, who
had let go of Thure the moment the sheriff had him safely by the collar,
stepped up in front of Turner. "We accuses them of murderin' an' robbin'
John Stackpole, an old miner, who was on his way tew San Francisco from
th' diggin's; an' what's more, we saw 'em do it with our own eyes; an'
are ready tew swear tew th' same afore any judge an' jury. Ain't we
Spike?" and he turned to a small man, with a pockmarked face, who was
standing close to Bud.

"True as preachin'," declared the small man. "With my own eyes I saw 'em
knock th' miner off his hoss with their guns, an' then jump on him, an'
run a knife through his heart, an' jerk off his gold-belt, an'--"

"You lie!" and the hard fist of Bud's sturdy right arm landed squarely
on the chin of the man, with such force that he was knocked backward,
senseless, into the arms of a man standing behind him. "You and
Brokennose killed him yourselves. We--"

"Shut up!" and the sheriff whirled Bud violently around in front of him.
"Now, young man, another move like that and I will put you in irons.
Here, Dave," and he turned to a roughly dressed miner standing near,
"just pull their teeth, while I hold them. They're beginning to look
some rambunctuous."

And, indeed, Thure and Bud did look "rambunctuous"; for by now both boys
were beginning to get an inkling of the game that was being played on
them by the two scoundrels. But, what could they do? Everything had
happened so suddenly and unexpectedly, that they were in the hands of
the sheriff before either of them had recovered his wits sufficiently to
even open his mouth in protest or defense.

"Quiet, quiet," cautioned the roughly dressed miner, whom the sheriff
had summoned to his aid, in a low voice, as he swiftly pulled the boys'
knives and pistols from their belts. "Don't let your tempers git tew
buckin'. You're a sight better off in th' hands of th' sheriff, who will
see that you git a fair trial, than you would be in the hands of the
mob, who sometimes string a feller up first an' try him afterwards."

Thure and Bud promptly saw the wisdom of this counsel and allowed the
miner to disarm them without protest.

"Now, Dave, I'll make you my deputy until this little matter is settled.
Bring along the animals and I'll see that these two young--" The sheriff
paused and looked curiously into the faces of Thure and Bud. "I'll be
hanged, if you look much like murderers!" he declared frankly.
"Howsomever, I am not the judge; and you can't always tell whether or
not a dog has got fleas by his looks."

"We are innocent, absolutely innocent," began Thure excitedly. "We did
not kill the old miner. We--"

"Save your talk," broke in the sheriff good-naturedly, glancing sharply
into the boy's face, "for the trial. I'll see that you get a fair trial;
and that's all that I can do. Now, you two men that make this accusation
of murder against the prisoners, come along," and he glanced keenly at
the two men.

Brokennose still stood near Thure; and the one called Spike had
recovered sufficiently from his contact with Bud's fist to stand glaring
at Bud, with an ugly scowl on his pock-marked face.

"Where are you goin' tew take 'em?" he demanded. "This ain't no jail
case. We wants them tried immejiate. Thar ain't no need of lawyers an'
jedges tew mix things up. We seed 'em kill th' miner, an' are willin'
tew swear tew it, an' that otter be enough tew have 'em danglin' by
their necks inside of half an hour."

"They'll dangle, when they've been proven guilty, according to the laws
of this city; and not before," answered the sheriff dryly. "We'd give a
dog a fair trial in this town before we'd hang him. Come, you can tell
your stories to the alcalde," and, still keeping a tight grip on the
collars of Thure and Bud, he started down the street toward the office
of the alcalde, before whom all criminal cases were tried, followed by
Dave, the miner, with the horses of the boys, their two accusers, and
the crowd, which had made no move to dispute the authority of the
sheriff, although a little growling had been done. They knew that they
would not have long to wait. California justice in those days in the
mining towns and camps was sudden.




CHAPTER IX

THE TESTIMONY OF BILL UGGER


Sacramento City at that date had a rude but effective government of its
own. An alcalde and other city officers had been elected; and certain
unwritten laws, for the protection of life and property, had been
promulgated and were strictly enforced. Lynching, in the sense that we
know it to-day, was almost unknown. There were no disorderly mobs, who,
under the spurs of their own brutal passions, strung up their victims
unheard and without even the semblance of a fair trial. Justice, if
sudden, was usually careful to see that it was justice and not brutality
that rendered the verdict. And yet, many of these early trials had the
outward semblance of lynching-bees in the swift severity of their
punishments. A murderer would be arrested, tried, convicted, and
decently hanged, all before sundown of the same day. The mob spirit was
there, but usually held in check by the sturdy manhood of the American
miners, who had nearly all come from law abiding and law respecting
communities.

This swift severity of Justice was, in a sense, compelled by the
unusual, the almost unprecedented conditions surrounding life in a city
born suddenly in a wilderness. There were few locks and bars and bolts,
or, even, doors, in Sacramento City at that time; and large sums in gold
and great values in goods were often left exposed and almost
unprotected. The thief, under such circumstances, had to be dealt with
severely and promptly; or the property of no one would be safe. There
were no regularly established courts in the city to try criminals, no
written code of laws to dictate methods of procedure, no court officials
to enforce mandates, and no safe jails in which to confine prisoners.
Under such circumstances the people had to form their own courts, make
their own laws, and see that they were enforced; or have no laws; and
the criminal had to be dealt with summarily. The thief was sometimes
whipped, or, even, cropped, that is his ears were cut off, and he was
always driven from the city, and warned not to come back under penalty
of death. The murderer, when proven guilty to the satisfaction of the
people, was always hanged. No prisoners were held. They were proven
guilty and sentence pronounced and executed at once; or they were set
free.

Such was Sacramento City in 1849, the Sacramento City in which Thure and
Bud now found themselves under arrest for the horrible crime of murder,
the most serious crime that can be charged against a human being
anywhere, but rendered especially serious in the present case by the
peculiar surrounding circumstances. In all the city, so far as either
boy knew, they did not have a friend, or even an acquaintance, who could
vouch for them--and yet, before the sun set that night, they must prove
themselves innocent of the crime charged, or, in all human probability,
be hanged!

The alcalde's office was small, only a few of the great crowd of men who
had followed the sheriff and his prisoners could get inside of it; and,
when the alcalde saw the size of the gathering outside of his office and
learned the serious nature of the charge against the two boys, he at
once ordered the "court" to be held under the big oak in the
horse-market, where there would be room for all to see and hear how
justice was dispensed. Accordingly all started at once for the
horse-market, situated near the bottom of K Street, where an immense
evergreen oak stood in the middle of the street, furnishing an agreeable
shade for many feet around and a fittingly picturesque scene for the
holding of such a trial as was about to take place.

The method of procedure, on arriving at the horse-market, was simple but
effective. The alcalde took his station near the trunk of the great oak,
and summoned the prisoners and their accusers before him, while the
crowd gathered in a grim and stern-faced circle around this improvised
courtroom.

"What is the crime the prisoners are charged with?" and the alcalde
turned to the sheriff.

"Murder!" answered the sheriff briefly.

"Who makes the accusation?"

"Those two men standing there," and the sheriff indicated the big
red-headed man with the broken nose and the small man with the
pock-marked face, who now stood just behind the sheriff and his two
prisoners.

"Stand forth by the side of the prisoners," commanded the alcalde.

The two men shuffled awkwardly forward and stood uneasily by the side of
Thure and Bud, their eyes shifting restlessly from the face of the
alcalde to the faces of the surrounding crowd.

For a couple or more minutes the alcalde studied the faces of the two
boys and the faces of their two accusers in silence. Evidently he was
endeavoring to form an opinion of the characters of the prisoners and
their accusers; but, what that opinion was, his face did not betray.

"Why do you accuse these two young men of murder?" and the alcalde
suddenly fixed his eyes upon the face of the man with a broken nose.

"Because I seen 'em do it," answered the man. "Me an' my pard, Spike,
seen 'em do it. Ask him," and he turned to the small man, who stood
close by his side.

"And you are both willing to make oath that you saw these two young men,
who are little more than boys, commit the awful crime of murder?" the
alcalde continued.

"Yes," promptly responded both men.

"Then, may God have mercy on your souls, if the accusations are false!
What have you to say to the accusation? Guilty; or, not guilty?" and the
alcalde turned abruptly to Thure and Bud.

"Not guilty," answered Thure, his face very white. "We--"

"That will do for the present," interrupted the alcalde. "Gentlemen, how
shall the case be tried?" and he turned to the surrounding crowd of
stern-faced men.

"Give 'em a jury, an' git a-goin'," called a rough voice impatiently.

"Do you wish a trial by jury?" and again the alcalde turned to Thure and
Bud.

"Yes," answered both boys.

"The trial will be by jury," announced the alcalde. "I summon to act as
this jury," and his eyes searched the circle of surrounding faces, as he
slowly called out the names of twelve men, who, as their names were
called, stepped forth and took their stations by the side of the alcalde
and in front of the prisoners and their accusers.

When the twelve jurymen had been selected, all were solemnly sworn by
the alcalde to render a true and just verdict, according to the evidence
presented; and the trial of Thure and Bud for the murder of John
Stackpole, the miner, was ready to begin.

During all this time Thure and Bud had been doing some very serious and
some very rapid thinking. At first the suddenness and the unexpectedness
of the rush of men upon them in the busy street, followed so swiftly by
their arrest and the dreadful accusations of the two men, whom they had
every reason to believe had committed the crime themselves, had almost
completely benumbed their faculties; but this condition of mind had
lasted only a short time, and long before they reached the place of
trial their minds were busy with the dreadful problem of how to prove
themselves innocent of the crime charged, when two men were ready to
swear that they saw them commit the crime, and when they did not have,
could not have, a single witness who could swear to the truthfulness of
their statements concerning the miner's death. No one but themselves had
seen him die; and, so far as they knew, no one but themselves and their
accusers knew the cause of his death. If they only had time to send
home--But, even if they had witnesses from home, what could they prove?
Only that the two boys had brought the dead miner home and had buried
him; and that would be no proof that they had not killed him and
invented the story of the two robbers.

True, on their side, they could accuse the two men of committing the
murder themselves; but they had no positive proofs that they were guilty
of the crime, only the description of his assailants given them by the
dying miner. There might be other men with broken noses and pock-marked
faces. All that they could swear to of their own knowledge was that one
of the men they had seen murdering the old miner was larger than the
other. They had not got near enough to the murderers to be able to
recognize them again, even if they should see them, except by the
description given by the murdered man. And for them to accuse the two
men, who had caused their arrest, of the murder, in itself would look
suspicious to those who did not know the real facts and would have a
tendency to make them doubt their whole story of the death of the miner.

Then there was another matter that troubled the two boys greatly. Why
had the two men accused them thus publicly of the murder of the miner?
Why had they run this risk of turning suspicion against themselves? They
must feel very certain that the "evidence" they would produce would
convict; or, they never would have dared to have chanced accusing them
of the crime; for their acquittal would be almost sure to turn suspicion
in their own direction. True, there was the skin map, and, possibly, the
accusation was some scheme to get the map into their possession; but,
how could their hanging bring this about? If they were hanged, the map
and its meaning would be almost sure to be made public; and then every
man in Sacramento City would have as good a chance of finding the Cave
of Gold as would the two scoundrels themselves, a condition of things
that both boys felt quite sure the two men were exceedingly anxious to
avoid, and the map itself would be almost certain to be kept from them.

Then, again, the possession of the skin map itself was the cause of the
gravest anxiety and dread. If they confessed to its possession it would
reveal to all the secret of the Cave of Gold, something that they were
almost ready to give their lives to prevent, and would not help their
case in the least. Indeed, under the circumstances it would, probably,
be considered the strongest possible circumstantial evidence of their
guilt.

But, what if the alcalde should order them searched and the map be
found? Or, what if the two men, becoming desperate, should ask that they
be searched, to see if anything that belonged to the miner could be
found in their possession, and the buckskin bag and the gold nugget and
the skin map should all be discovered in their place of concealment
under Thure's left shoulder?

When the two horns of a dilemma are both equally long and sharp, how,
then, can the peril be avoided?

Indeed, the longer and the closer Thure and Bud looked at their
situation, the more dreadful and impossible of remedy it appeared. How
could they prove their innocence, when they did not have a single
witness to appear in their defense? How could their youth and
inexperience, friendless and alone, hope to combat successfully with the
cunning and the experience of these two unprincipled men, who would stop
at nothing to accomplish their ends? But, they were not the kind of boys
to give up a fight for life, as long as they could strike back; and the
more difficult their situation appeared, the more grimly determined they
became to win out somehow, or, at least, to die fighting.

"Not a word of the skin map and the Cave of Gold," hastily warned Thure
in a whisper to Bud, as the alcalde, having completed the tale of the
jury, again turned to them. "Tell everything just as it happened, but
that. The telling of that would not help us a bit; and, if it were known
that we had a map and a gold nugget that had belonged to the miner, it
would look suspicious and might hurt us a lot; and we don't want to give
away the Cave of Gold, not if we can help it."

"Right," whispered back Bud. "It's got to be our word against the word
of those two cowardly villains, I reckon," and he glared furiously in
the direction of the two men. "We've just got to beat them some way,"
and his young face grew grim and stern.

By this time the jurymen had all seated themselves comfortably on the
ground on both sides of the alcalde, and were ready to hear the
testimony.

"You may step forward and be sworn," and the alcalde's eyes signaled out
the big man with a broken nose.

The man stepped up in front of the alcalde, who sat on a stump, with a
barrel standing on end in front of him and an old worn Bible lying on
top of the barrel.

"Hold up your right hand," commanded the alcalde, his keen eyes fixing
themselves sternly on the red, brutal face; "and repeat the oath after
me."

The man's right hand went up with a sort of spasmodic jerk.

"I do solemnly swear," began the alcalde slowly, "that the testimony I
am about to give in the case now before the court, shall be the truth,
the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; and may God eternally damn
my soul, if I knowingly utter a false word."

Hesitatingly and with a whitening face, the man slowly repeated this
oath.

"Kiss the Bible," commanded the alcalde; "and may God blister the lips
that have touched His holy book, if they suffer a false word to pass
between them."

The man hesitated a moment: and then, at a muttered objurgation from his
companion, he bent and hastily pressed his lips against the cover of the
holy book.

"What is your name and business?" In this rude and informal court the
alcalde not only acted as judge, but also examined all witnesses.

"William Ugger, Bill Ugger, for short," answered the man, his eyes
shifting restlessly from face to face as he spoke. "Me an' my pard are
bound for th' diggin's."

"Now, remembering that you have sworn to speak nothing but the truth and
that your lips have just kissed the holiest of books, you may tell the
jury and the people here assembled what you know of this alleged murder
of the miner, John Stackpole. Be as brief as possible, please," and the
alcalde's eyes, as well as the eyes of every man gathered there,
fastened themselves on the face of Bill Ugger.

"Wal," and the shifting eyes fixed themselves for a few brief moments on
the ground in front of the big feet, "it happened like this. Me an' my
pard, Spike, thar," and he nodded toward his companion, "was on our way
from San Francisco tew Sacramento City an' th' diggin's a-hossback.
Somehow we happened tew git off th' reg'lar trail, me an' Spike did; an'
'long 'bout noon, three days ago, we comed tew a leetle valley, with a
leetle stream of water a-runnin' through it, an' a string of trees an'
brush a-growin' 'longside th' water. Both on us bein' tired, we'd ben
a-goin' since sun-up, we found a nice shady spot 'longside th' water,
an', tyin' our hosses tew th' trees, both on us laid down for a short
snooze. Course I don't know how long we'd ben a-snoozin', but, I reckon,
'twas 'bout a couple of hours, when we was both jerked out of a sound
sleep by a yell of agony that sounded as if it comed from a man what had
ben struck a mortal blow. Nat'rally that yell startled me an' Spike sum,
bein' that we both had been sound asleep; an', maybe, for a minute we
sot a-lookin' intew each other's eyes, doin' nuthin'. Then Spike says:
'Sounded human, Bill. Like sumone had got his,' an' I seed that he was
a-shiverin'; for 'tain't none pleasant tew be waked out of a sound sleep
by th' death-cry of a human. 'An' it sounded as if it comed from right
ayond that leetle clump of bushes,' an' he pointed a shakin' finger
toward a leetle clump of bushes, 'bout a rod away, that shut out our
view of th' valley. 'I reckon we'd better investergate,' an' we both
began a-crawlin' toward that clump of bushes, not havin' heard no more
sounds.

"Wal," and the shifty eyes shot swift glances from the face of the
alcalde to the faces of the jury and the surrounding crowd, to note the
effect of his words, "when we got tew them bushes an' looked through
'em--" He paused and laid a hand solemnly on the Bible lying on top of
the barrel in front of the alcalde--"so help me God! this is what we
saw. Th' valley in front of th' bushes was level an' open, so that we
could see clear 'cross it; an', 'bout twenty rods from whar we was, we
saw a man strugglin' violently on th' ground with two other men atop of
him, while three hosses stood a leetle ways off a lookin' at 'em; an',
even as we looked, we saw one of th' men flash a knife above his head
an' plunge it down, an' th' man on th' ground stopped strugglin'.

"This was a leetle more'n Spike an' I was a-willin' tew stand for, an'
we both jumps up out of th' bushes, an', drawin' our pistols, we had no
rifles, we yells an' starts for them two men. Both on 'em jumps tew
their feet, an' grabs up their rifles, an', afore you could say Jack,
they had th' both on us covered, we not bein' near enough tew use
our pistols. But we was close enough tew see 'em plain; an', afore
God!--" The man stopped abruptly and, whirling suddenly about, pointed
a finger dramatically directly into the face of Thure--"it was that young
villain a-standin' thar what had his gun a-pointin' straight at me!"

Thure, in utter astonishment, took a quick step backward; and then,
suddenly realizing what that pointing finger meant, backed by those
startling words, he lost all control of himself for the moment and
leaped straight toward Bill Ugger.

"It's a lie! A lie!" he yelled, as with all his young strength he
struggled furiously with the great bulk of his antagonist. But, before
either could do the other any harm, the strong hands of the sheriff
seized Thure by the shoulders.

"Here, you young catamount!" and he jerked Thure violently backward, and
lifted the butt of his heavy revolver threateningly, while his face
hardened. "Quit it, or--" and the heavy butt descended lightly on
Thure's head by way of warning.

"But he lied! Every word that he uttered was a lie!" and tears of rage
gathered in Thure's eyes.

"Young man," the alcalde was now standing on his feet, all the sympathy
gone from his face, "you will give me your word of honor not in any way
again to do violence to the decorum of this court during this trial, or
I shall order the sheriff to bind you hand and foot. Do I have your
promise?" and he fixed his eyes sternly on the white face of Thure.

For a moment Thure stood silent. Then his young face hardened and his
lips tightened into two thin straight lines. Reason again had firm hold
of the helm.

"I promise," he answered quietly; "and I ask the court's pardon for my
violent action. But the damnable lies told by that--"

"That will do," interrupted the alcalde. "Sheriff, if either of the
prisoners forgets himself or our presence again, bind him hand and foot.
Now," and he turned to Bill Ugger, who, as soon as Thure had been torn
from him, had again returned quietly to his place before the official
barrel, his red face flushed and his little eyes shining with triumph,
"you may go on with your testimony, William Ugger. You were saying that
you recognized one of the prisoners as one of the murderers and that he
had you covered with his rifle. Remembering your oath and comprehending
fully what your dreadful accusation means to a fellow human being, you
still swear that the man who sprang up from the prostrate body and
leveled his rifle at you was this prisoner?" and the alcalde's lifted
hand indicated Thure.

The interest of the crowd surrounding the court had by this time become
intense. Men were breathing heavily and their faces had hardened and an
ugly look had come into their eyes. All now stretched their heads
forward, as they listened almost breathlessly for the reply of Bill
Ugger.

"I do," answered the man grimly. "I saw his face plain, a-lookin' at me
above th' top of his rifle."

A deep growl went up from the surrounding crowd, a sound more like the
throat mutterings of a monstrous tiger than anything human. The sheriff
started and his keen eyes swiftly searched the circle of faces.

"I reckon thar ain't no need of waitin' for more testimony," cried a
hoarse voice. "They was seen killin' th' man; an' that's all we wants
tew know. Let jedgement be pronounced, an' we'll 'tend tew th' ex'cutin'
of it."

"Right!" yelled another. "There's no need of wasting more--"

"Silence!" thundered the alcalde, leaping to his feet. "This court, a
court elected by your own authority, is trying the prisoners; and, by
the Eternal Andrew Jackson! they shall not be declared guilty until they
have been heard in their own defense, until they have been proven guilty
in full accordance with the laws of this city. William Ugger, you may go
on with your testimony. There will be no further interruptions," and the
alcalde quietly laid a couple of big revolvers down on top of the
barrel, one on each side of the Bible.

At this moment and when all eyes were bent on the alcalde, Thure felt a
slight jerk on his coat sleeve, and, glancing down, saw that the smaller
of their accusers, the pock-marked man, had moved up close to his side
and that it had been his hand that had jerked his sleeve.

"Read at once," and the man swiftly slipped a piece of paper into his
hand. "It is your only hope," and he moved away, not having once even
glanced toward Thure.

Thure, stepping a little behind Bud and holding the paper so that no
eyes but his own could see it, cautiously opened the note and slowly
read these words:

     If you wil give us the miners map and promice tu say nuthin bout
     the gold kave Bill and me wil sudenly diskuver that we is mistakin
     in thinkin that you was the ones tu kil old Stakpole and you wil go
     free. If you dont you wil both hang afore sun down tu nite and al
     the gold in Caleforny aint wurth as much tu you as is yur lives. If
     you agrees tu this nod yur hed 2 times. If you dont git redy tu
     hang.

The note was unsigned; and no signature was necessary. Its meaning was
plain. The two boys were to surrender the skin map to the two scoundrels
and say nothing about the Cave of Gold; or, the dreadful plot, in whose
meshes they found themselves so tightly ensnared, was to be followed out
to its horrible conclusion. The motive back of the two men's action now
stood revealed. They expected to frighten the two boys into giving up
the skin map and into keeping secret their knowledge of the Cave of
Gold. But, what a fiendish plot! And with what diabolical cunning it had
all been worked out and was being executed!

Thure read the note through slowly; and, in a flash, he had comprehended
the whole atrocious, scheme and with what devilish cunning circumstances
had been manipulated to bring about their present terrible situation;
but, only the furious look in his eyes showed how the note had affected
him.

"From Pockface," he whispered, as he quietly slipped the paper into
Bud's hand. "Read it on the sly; and then give me your answer."

Bud cautiously took the note and opened it, wondering greatly at its
coming from Pockface. He read it through slowly, comprehendingly; and
then he turned and glanced into Thure's face. One look was sufficient.

During all this time Pockface's eyes had been covertly watching the
boys.

Bud now waited until he saw that the man's eyes were upon him, then he
deliberately raised the piece of paper to his mouth, spit on it, and,
bending down, placed it under the heel of his boot, ground it to pieces
in the ground, and, defiantly turning his back on the man, gave his
attention to the doings of the alcalde.

The two scoundrels had misjudged the courage and the pluck of two
American boys like Thure Conroyal and Bud Randolph; and, judging from
the scowls that disfigured their faces and the ugly light that flashed
into their eyes, at the sight of Bud's actions, in their disappointment,
they would show them no mercy. They would get the map, or they would
hang the boys. Indeed, this action on their part now became almost
necessary; for, if they did not succeed in hanging the boys, the boys,
in all probability, would succeed in hanging them.

This dramatic byplay had taken but a short time in the enacting and had
passed unnoticed in the excitement occasioned by the threats from the
surrounding crowd and the placing of the alcalde's two big revolvers by
the side of the Bible on top of the barrel standing in front of him.
When it was over and Thure and Bud again gave their attention to the
court, Bill Ugger was about to continue with his testimony, the majority
of the crowd having shown themselves so plainly in sympathy with the
actions of the alcalde that the rougher ones evidently thought it wise
to keep quiet.

"As I was a-sayin'," continued Bill Ugger, when everything had quieted
down again, "afore we could git near enough tew th' murderers tew use
our pistols, they held us up with their rifles, an' ordered us tew git
an' git lively; an', by way of makin' plain their meaning that skunk,"
and he glared at Thure, "sent a bullet a-whistlin' so close tew my ears
that it made this hole through th' brim of my hat," and the man held up
his wide-brimmed hat and pointed with his finger to a little round hole
in the brim close to the crown. "Three inches more tew one side an' he'd
a-got me, tew.

"Wal, me an' Spike didn't stop tew argy none after that; but got back
ahind them bushes an' trees as sudden as our legs would take us. But,"
and Ugger paused and glared at Thure and Bud, "if I knowed I was on my
deathbed an' a-goin' tew die in five minits, I'd be willin' tew swear
that th' tew murderers was them tew boys a-standin' thar. We saw their
faces plain an' thar ain't no mistake," and his eyes flashed an ugly
look in the direction of Thure and Bud.

"Of course," continued Bill Ugger, "they didn't dare follow us, 'cause,
if they did, they knowed we could hide ahind a tree an' pot 'em, which
we'd ben sum glad tew do," and his eyes glowed vindictively. "Wal, we
waited, hid ahind th' bushes an' trees, not darin' tew show ourselves
an' bein' tew far off tew do any pistol shooting a-hopin' that they'd
ride off an' leave th' body of th' man they'd robbed an' probably
killed, but they was tew cunnin' tew do that; for, in a leetle while,
they throwed th' body, like it was a bag of grain, across th' back of
one of th' hosses an' tied it thar; an' then they rode off, a-leadin'
th' hoss with th' body on it ahind 'em. Me an' Spike waited 'til they'd
gone out of sight over th' top of a distant hill an' then we made for
th' spot of th' killin'. Th' grass was sum tread up an' bloody; an'
lyin' in th' blood an' partly tread intew th' ground, we found this,"
and Ugger thrust his hand into one of his pockets and pulled out a small
daguerreotype-case, perhaps a couple of inches square, on which could be
plainly seen ominous stains of red.

"This," and he held up the small case where all could see, "has inside
of it th' picter of as handsum a lady as I ever seed; an' under th'
picter is writ, in a woman's writin,' these words: Tew my beloved
husband, John Stackpole'; an' we reckoned, me an' Spike did, as how th'
murdered man's name must a-ben John Stackpole. See for yourselves," and
he handed the case to the alcalde, who, after opening it and looking at
the picture inside and the blood stains on the outside, passed it on to
the jury, who examined it carefully.

"Of course," continued Ugger, after he had watched the effect of the
daguerreotype on the alcalde and the jury for a minute, "bein' bound for
th' diggin's an' knowin' 'twould be almost useless tew try an' trail th'
murderers, me an' Spike at once started on our way ag'in for Sacermento
City, not expectin' tew see them murderers ag'in, leastwise not so soon.
We got intew th' city this mornin'; an' was a-standin' on th' street
a-lookin' at th' humans a-passin' by, when who should come a-ridin'
along right afore our eyes, but them tew identickle young fellers what
we had seen kill that man; an', of course, bein' honest an' law-abidin'
men, me an' Spike seen tew it that they didn't git away a second time.
Now, I reckon, that's all I've got tew tell, only," and again his eyes
turned vindictively to Thure and Bud, "thar ain't ben no mistake made
an' you've got th' right men; an' if they don't hang afore night, then
thar ain't no justice in Sacermento City. I'm done."

The alcalde sat for a moment looking straight in front of him. Evidently
he was swiftly reviewing the man's testimony to see if there were any
points that needed clearing up; but everything had been told,
apparently, in such a clear, straightforward manner that there seemed to
be nothing that needed explaining, and, with a sigh as he thought of the
youthfulness of the prisoners, the alcalde turned to the jury.

"Would you like to ask the witness any questions?" he inquired.

"No. Everything seems to have been told as clear and as straight as a
string," one of them replied, and all the others nodded their assent to
this, statement.

"Have the prisoners any questions they wish to ask the witness?" and the
alcalde turned to Thure and Bud.

For a moment the two boys consulted together. Then Thure said quietly:
"No, there is nothing that either of us would care to ask that man."

"The prisoner is dismissed for the present," and the alcalde motioned
Bill Ugger to step back from in front of the barrel.




CHAPTER X

THE MISSING BUTTON


"You may step forward and be sworn," and the alcalde turned his shrewd
eyes on the pockmarked face of the small man.

The man stepped quickly forward; but, just before he reached the barrel,
a sudden gleam shot into his eyes, which at that moment happened to be
bent on the ground and looking at the spot where Thure and Ugger had had
their brief but vigorous struggle. The next instant his foot apparently
caught in a root that protruded above the ground; and he stumbled and
fell violently downward, both outstretched hands clutching at the
ground. As he jumped hastily to his feet, his face very red and his
mouth flowing with apologies to the alcalde for his clumsiness, he
glanced downward swiftly into one of his hands, and then, with another
quick gleam of cunning triumph in his eyes, he quickly slipped the hand
into one of his pockets, and, taking his place in front of the barrel,
faced the alcalde.

"What is your name and present business?" the alcalde asked, when he had
sworn the witness, in the same manner Ugger had been sworn, to tell the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

"Spikenard Quinley," the man answered, shifting his eyes quickly from
the face of the alcalde to the two big revolvers on top of the barrel;
"but most of my friends jest call me Spike, for short. I'm bound for th'
diggin's, 'long with my pard, Bill Ugger, him who jest testified."

"Tell the jury all that you know about the case now before it; and make
your testimony as brief as possible, please," and the alcalde settled
back on his rude seat and fixed his eyes on the face of the witness.

Quinley did not prove to be as dramatic a witness as Ugger had been; but
he told a seemingly straightforward and honest story of how he and his
partner had witnessed the killing of the man supposed to be John
Stackpole, that differed only in the manner of its telling from the one
already told by Ugger, and, consequently, need not be repeated here. He,
also, was very positive that the two men, who had jumped up from the
prostrate body of the man and had held them up with their rifles, were
the two prisoners; and right here he introduced a bit of new
corroborative evidence in a most effective and dramatic manner.

He had completed his testimony and had been dismissed by the alcalde and
had started away from the court-barrel, when he suddenly stopped, as if
he had unexpectedly remembered something that might have a bearing on
the case, and turned to the alcalde.

"Excuse me, y'ur honor," he said, as he thrust a hand into one of his
pockets, the same pocket into which he had thrust the same hand a moment
after his tumble over the root, "but I've jest reckerlected that I've
sumthin' right here in my pocket that might help tew identify the
prisoners as the murderers, an' ag'in it might not--not that me and Bill
needs any more identifin', but, naterly, you, not seem' 'em kill th'
man, ain't so sart'in an' wants all th' proof that you can git tew show
that you shore have got the right party; an' so, if y'ur honor don't
object, I've got a leetle sumthin' more that I'd like tew introduce as
testimony, that might, an' ag'in it might not, help tew make th'
identity of th' prisoners more shore," and he paused, still keeping his
hand in his pocket.

"This court is always ready to hear any testimony that has any bearing
on the case before it," the alcalde said. "Take your place again on the
witness stand," and he nodded toward the barrel.

Quinley at once returned to his place in front of the barrel.

"Now, remembering that you are still under oath to tell God's truth, you
may introduce your evidence," and the alcalde half-arose from his seat
in his anxiety to see what this new evidence might be.

"Of course, I'm none shore that it belongs tew either of th' prisoners,"
Quinley began. "It might have come from th' clothes of th' murdered man,
an' ag'in it might have come from th' clothes of th' prisoners, an'
ag'in th' prisoners might not have on th' same clothes tew-day that they
did when they killed th' man, an' so it might prove nuthin'; but, right
whar th' grass was tread up th' worst on th' spot whar we saw th' man
killed, I found this--" and the hand came out of the pocket and was
extended toward the alcalde, holding on its palm a button. "Now I'd
plumb forgot all about th' findin' of this button, not settin' any store
on it, when, jest as I was a-leavin' th' witness stand, th' thought
popped intew my head, that, if th' prisoners happened tew have on th'
same clothes they had on when they murdered the man an' th' button came
from their clothes, then I had in my pocket important evidence, 'cause
th' button is a peekuler lookin' button, an', I reckon, thar must be
more buttons like it on th' clothes whar it come from. I asks that th'
clothes of th' prisoners be examined tew see if either on 'em has
buttons on like this," and he handed the button to the alcalde.

The alcalde took the button and sat for a moment staring at it as it lay
on the palm of his hand--a small thing, but it might help to weave the
rope that would hang two human beings!

"Git a-goin'," shouted someone impatiently from the surrounding crowd,
"an' see if either of th' prisoners has got any buttons on his clothes
like that you're a-holdin' in y'ur hand. If he has, I reckon, thar won't
be any need of takin' any more testimonies."

A dozen voices shouted their approval of this statement. Evidently the
sympathies of the crowd were being fast turned from Thure and Bud.

The alcalde arose slowly to his feet.

"This court," he said sternly, "is here to see that the prisoners are
given a fair trial, guilty or not guilty; and judgment shall not be
pronounced until the case has been fairly tried and their innocence or
their guilt fully established. This cannot be done until the prisoners
themselves have been heard in their own defense. Let us hear no more
talk of mob judgment and mob execution. The court will pronounce
judgment, and the court will see that its judgment is promptly executed,
to the full satisfaction of every honest law-abiding man in the city."
He paused for a moment, while his keen eyes sternly searched the faces
of the surrounding crowd. There was no response to his words and
challenging glance.

"This button," he continued quietly, holding up the button that Quinley
had handed him where all could see it, "the witness swears was picked up
by himself from the ground, where the struggle between the murdered man
and his murderers took place, and is presumed to have come either from
the clothing of the murdered man or from the clothing of his murderers;
and the witness asks that the clothing of the two prisoners be examined
to see if like buttons can be found on their clothing. The contentions
of the witness, regarding the value of this button as evidence in the
case before us, are just. Therefore his request is granted and the
prisoners are ordered to be examined. Young man," and he turned to Bud,
"you will please come forward; and allow the gentlemen of the jury to
compare this button with the buttons on your clothing," and he handed
the button he held in his hand to the foreman of the jury.

The production of this button by Quinley was a surprise to Thure and
Bud. If it should prove to have come from the clothing of one of them,
it certainly would look suspicious; but, how could it have come from
their clothes, at least from the clothes they now had on, since neither
of them were now wearing the same garments that they had worn on the day
of the hunt, when they had found the murdered miner? Consequently the
introducing of the button as evidence by Quinley had caused both of them
more surprise than it had uneasiness, surprise that Quinley should care
to introduce such meaningless evidence as he must know the button to be,
since the examination of their clothing could only prove that the button
belonged to neither of them. The episode of Quinley's stumble, in the
excitement of the trial, had passed from both of their minds, as,
doubtless, it had from the minds of all the others; but, even if they
had remembered it, they would not have thought of connecting it in any
way with the finding of the button. Hence Bud, at the summons of the
alcalde, had stepped forward promptly and confidently.

"We find two buttons missing from the prisoner's coat," announced the
foreman of the jury, when the examination of Bud had been completed.
"But, since the button offered in evidence bears no resemblance in
design or size to the buttons remaining on the coat, we declare that so
far as this prisoner is concerned the button in question proves
nothing."

"You may return to your place by the side of the sheriff," and the
alcalde gave an almost audible sigh of relief, while something very near
like a cheer came from the crowd. It was hard to look into those two
young clear-eyed faces and believe that they masked the hearts of
murderers.

Bud hurried back to his place by the side of the sheriff, with the first
smile on his lips that had so far brightened his face during the trial.

"Now," and the alcalde turned to Thure, "let the jury compare the button
with the buttons on your clothing," and the anxious look came back on
his face.

Thure, with the same promptness and confidence that Bud had displayed,
advanced and submitted to the examination; but, hardly had he reached
the foreman of the jury, when the excited actions of the jurymen told
all that an important discovery of some kind had been made; and their
report was awaited with almost breathless interest.

"We find," began the foreman, speaking slowly, after every man on the
jury had carefully compared the button Quinley had handed to the alcalde
with the buttons on Thure's coat, "one button missing from the
prisoner's coat." He paused a moment, and then continued, raising his
voice a little: "We also find that the button handed to the alcalde by
the witness, Spikenard Quinley, and said to have been found by him on
the spot of ground where the struggle took place between the murdered
man and his murderers, to be exactly similar in design, size, and shape
to the remaining buttons on the prisoner's coat, and that it appears to
be the missing button."

"But--but," stammered Thure, his face white and tense with excitement,
"that button, if it came from my clothes, could not have been found on
the ground where the miner was murdered. Why, I did not even have on the
same clothes that day that I have on now--"

"What!" and the alcalde jumped to his feet, his face white and stern,
while again that deep-throated growl went up from the crowd, "What do
you mean by 'that day?' Do you realize that your expression amounts
almost to a confession of guilt?"

"No," and Thure turned firmly to the alcalde. By a desperate effort he
had recovered his self-control. "It means, if that button was found on
the spot where the miner was murdered, that it did not come from my
clothes; for I did not have on the same clothes on the day we found the
wounded miner that I have on now. The button, if it came from my
clothes, and I confess that it looks as if it did, must have been got by
that man in some other way," and Thure's eyes flashed wrathfully in the
direction of Quinley, who grinned and touched his neck suggestively.

A hoarse laugh, that had no sound of mirth in it, came from the
surrounding crowd, at this improbable explanation of Thure, an
explanation that strengthened rather than weakened their belief in the
testimony of Quinley; but a look of relief, as well as of surprise, came
on the face of the alcalde.

"Ah, I forgot. We have not yet heard your story. You say that you found
the miner, John Stackpole, found him wounded?" he asked eagerly. "Then
he is still alive?"

"Yes, we found him," Thure answered slowly, "found him in the hands of
his murderers, but not in time to save him. He died before we could get
him home."

"Died! And in your hands!" and again the alcalde's face grew stern, and
again that hoarse unbelieving laugh came from the crowd. "Young man, do
you realize that you are telling a very improbable-sounding story? But,"
and the alcalde resumed his judicial gravity of countenance, "I am
forgetting that you are not on the witness stand. The button, it appears
then, came from the prisoner's coat," and he turned to the foreman of
the jury.

"It does," answered the foreman gravely.

"The prisoner may return to his place by the side of the sheriff. Now,"
and the alcalde's eyes searched the surrounding faces, "is there anyone
else present who has any testimony to give against the prisoners now on
trial before this court for the murder of John Stackpole?" and he
paused, to give anyone who wished to do so time to come forward.

"I reckon the testimony is plenty sufficient as it now stands," and a
huge brutal-looking man pushed his way through the crowd and faced the
alcalde. "Haven't two reputable witnesses sworn that they saw the
prisoners kill the man? Didn't one of them find a buttom that has been
proven to belong to the coat of one of the prisoners on the very spot
where the man was killed? And what can be offered in disproof of all
this? Nothing but the word of the prisoners themselves, who certainly
would lie to save their necks, if they would kill a man to get his gold.
I move," and he whirled about and faced the crowd, now muttering and
growling like a huge beast, "that the jury be instructed to render their
verdict now, so that we can hang them two young devils and get about our
business. All in favor--"

"Wait!" The alcalde's voice rang out clear and imperative; and, as he
spoke, he stepped out in front of the barrel, one of the big revolvers
held in each hand. "Before you put your motion I have a few words to
say; and, after I have said my few words, you can put your motion; and
we will see whether the men of Sacramento City stand for law and justice
or for mob brutality."

"Hear! Hear!" shouted a number of voices. "The alcalde shall be heard!"

"Men," continued the alcalde, his voice ringing with intense
earnestness, "I stand not here to plead for mercy in behalf of these two
young men, although their youth might almost justify such a plea. I am
here to demand justice. If this court, after fair trial shall find them
guilty of the brutal murder charged against them, then, in the name of
the same justice that I now invoke to protect them, they must hang; for,
in a community situated as we are, self-protection compels us to deal
with murderers with stern and relentless hands. But--Hear my words!--the
prisoners have not yet been proven guilty before this court. They have
not yet had fair trial. They have not yet even been heard in their own
defense. When I took my oath of office to serve you as alcalde, that
oath, the oath you yourselves compelled me to swear, bound me to see
that every prisoner brought before me had fair and speedy trial. I meant
to keep that oath then; and, by the Eternal Andrew Jackson! I mean to
keep it now, if need be with my life. Now, you can put your motion,"
and, with a couple of quick strides, the alcalde placed himself by the
side of the sheriff, near the two prisoners, the two big revolvers held
ready for instant use. He knew that the only way to check mob violence
was to stop it before it gathered momentum.

"Give the prisoners justice!" "They shall have justice!" "Hurrah, for
the alcalde!" shouted a hundred voices; and stern-faced men pushed
themselves through the crowd from every direction and formed a cordon
around the prisoners and the court.

"Go on with the trial. We will see that the court is sustained," and a
man stepped out from the surrounding cordon and bowed to the alcalde.

The mutterings and growlings suddenly ceased. The huge brutal-looking
man slunk back into the crowd, his motion unput.

In the midst of these exciting moments, when the attention of all was
concentrated on the alcalde, Bud suddenly felt a hand thrust something
into his hand from behind. He turned quickly. Bill Ugger stood not four
feet behind him.

"Read," and Ugger moved a couple of steps back and to one side.

Bud glanced down at his hand and saw that he held a bit of folded paper.
Hastily, yet cautiously, he unfolded it and read these words scrawled on
it with a lead pencil:

     Me and Spike kan yit save you. Give up the miners map and promis to
     tell nobudy of the kave of gold and we wil git you free. Refuse and
     we wil let you hang and then git the map off yur ded bodies we wil
     git the map anyway so whats the use of given up yur lives. Weve got
     things fixed so that you kant eskape the rope unles we save you so
     you've got to give us the map or hang. Make yur own choice taint
     our funrel.

     If you agrees nod yur hed 2 times to Spike and you wil be free in
     less than 10 minits.


Bud read these words through slowly; and then, moving up close to Thure,
he passed the paper to him.

"Read it," he said, fixing his eyes anxiously on his comrade's face.

By this time both boys saw plainly how strong was the web of evidence
that the two villains had so cunningly succeeded in throwing around
them; and how completely they appeared to have them in their power. And
what could they do or say to disprove their testimony? Their own tale,
looked at in the light of the evidence of the two men, would seem
improbable, would sound like a tale made up to fit the occasion. And
they could not bring forward a single witness to prove its truthfulness!
No wonder the unfortunate boys were tempted to give up the skin map; for
what is gold, when weighed in the balance against life?

Thure read the note; and then turned to Bud, his face white and his
heart throbbing with anxiety.

"What shall our answer be?" he asked in a whisper. "I hate like sin to
give up the skin map to them two scoundrels; but, I reckon, our fathers
and mothers would rather have our lives than the gold. But," and his
face brightened a little, "we have not yet given our testimony. I reckon
we had better wait until we see how the alcalde and the jury take our
stories before giving up the map."

"Yes," agreed Bud, his own face brightening at the thought of putting
off the surrender a little longer, "we will wait and see what effect our
testimony has. But, I guess you are right, if it comes to hanging," and
he shuddered, "or giving up the map, we'll have to give up the map. But
we won't give up until we've got to," and his face hardened. "Who'd a
thought them two scoundrels could get us in such a terrible fix!" and he
glared wrathfully in the direction of the two men, who now stood close
together regarding Thure and Bud with furtive but anxious eyes.

"Now to give them two skunks their answer," and Thure, holding the paper
out where the two men could see it, deliberately tore it to pieces and,
turning his back scornfully to them, gave his attention to the doings of
the court.




CHAPTER XI

AN UNEXPECTED WITNESS


The alcalde, the moment he saw that the mob spirit had been subdued, had
returned quietly to his place behind the barrel; and, when the two boys
again gave their attention to him, he had just reached his rude seat of
judgment, and was about to speak.

"I knew," he said, as his keen eyes searched the faces of the men, who
had so opportunely formed the cordon of safety around him and his court,
"that I could depend on the good sense and fair-mindedness of the people
of Sacramento City. We will now proceed with the trial," and he quietly
slipped back both of his revolvers into his coat pockets.

"Once more," and the alcalde raised his voice so that all could hear,
"the court asks, is there any other witness to bear testimony against
the two prisoners, if so, let him now step forward."

For a minute or two the alcalde waited. There was no movement, no word
from the surrounding crowd.

"We will now proceed with the examination of the prisoners. Young man,
take your place on the witness stand," and the alcalde turned to Thure.

"Don't get excited. Keep cool," cautioned Bud, as Thure hastened to take
his place in front of the barrel.

A hush came over the great encircling crowd, as Thure stood before
the alcalde and was solemnly sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth. Many of those rough bearded men had sons
of their own back at home, hardly younger than was the prisoner, who
now stood before the bar of justice, with a rope dangling threateningly
above his head; and these men found it hard to believe that that
wholesome-looking, clear-eyed youth could be guilty of the atrocious
crime charged against him. But, there was the evidence; and the laws of
the city must be enforced; and their faces grew stern and sad.

Thure told his story in a clear straightforward way; told how he and Bud
had gone out for a hunt on that day, how they had heard the death-cry of
the unfortunate horse and had slain the huge grizzly, how, just after
they had completed the skinning of the grizzly, they had seen the
struggle of the old miner with his two assailants and had rushed to his
rescue, how the robbers had fled, leaving the miner robbed and mortally
stabbed, how they had endeavored to get him to their home before he
died, but had failed, and, finally, how the miner had died and they had
borne his dead body home and had buried it.

There was hardly a loud sound made while Thure was telling his story.
One could almost have heard the great crowd breathing. When he had
spoken of witnessing the struggle between the miner and his murderers
and of rushing to his rescue, there had been a great stir in the crowd,
but it had quickly subsided, so eager were all to hear every word that
he uttered. His manner and his story made a deep impression; but, alas,
it was soon seen that his evidence had introduced nothing to disprove
the testimony of his two accusers that had any stronger proof back of it
than his own word and the word of his fellow prisoner, while he had
admitted bringing the dead body of the murdered miner home and burying
it, admitted having the dead body of the miner in his possession. This,
at least, was in direct proof of what his accusers had testified; for
they had sworn that they had seen the two boys bear the dead body off
with them. It looked as if they had made their story up to fit in with
the accounts of the previous witnesses and yet disprove the story of
their accusers.

Thure, so far in his testimony, had said nothing of the description the
old miner had given of his murderers. He was saving that for the last,
to be brought out by the questions of the alcalde, if possible. He
wished to make it as emphatic and striking as possible, and yet he did
not wish to appear to give it voluntarily; for he was wise enough to see
that for him and Bud to accuse their accusers might re-act back on
themselves. Fortunately the questions of the alcalde led directly to it.

"You testify," began the alcalde, the moment Thure had apparently
completed his testimony, "that you drove the murderers away from the
body of the miner. Did you get near enough to them to recognize them
again, should you see them?"

"No," Thure answered. "I could only swear that one was a large man and
that the other was small."

"Did you discover anything that would lead you to surmise who committed
the crime?" again asked the alcalde.

"No, not directly," answered Thure hesitatingly. "But the old miner,
just before he died, gave us a description of his two murderers," and he
stopped.

"How did he describe them? Why do you hesitate?" asked the alcalde
sharply.

"Because," answered Thure boldly, "the description the dying miner gave
of his two murderers appears to make us accuse our accusers, as if we
were trying to get back at them, when it is God's truth that we are
uttering."

"Give us the description. We are the ones to judge of its merits,"
commanded the alcalde, his face flushing with interest, while the
surrounding crowd became breathless.

Bud was looking at the two men; and he saw both of them start at the
words of Thure and glance apprehensively into each other's eyes.

"The miner said," and Thure turned his eyes full upon Bill Ugger, "that
one of his murderers was a large, red-headed man with a broken nose; and
that the other," and his eyes turned to the face of Spike Quinley, "was
a small man, with a pock-marked face."

For a moment no one spoke. All eyes were bent on the faces of the two
men. There was no mistaking to whom the description applied. Then a
harsh laugh broke from Bill Ugger.

"Tryin' to turn th' tables on us, be you?" and again he laughed. "Wal, I
reckon, ever'one here believes that yarn. It fits tew pat, not tew be
true. So me an' Spike are th' true murderers, be we? Wal, this is sum
unexpected an' s'prisin', ain't it Spike?" and he turned to his comrade,
grinning and glaring like a huge buffoon; but a close observer might
have noticed that his skin had whitened beneath its red beard.

Quinley had started perceptibly at Thure's description of the miner's
murderers, but he had quickly controlled himself, and a deadly gleam had
come into his wicked little eyes and his thin lips had tightened, as,
unperceived by all eyes, except the eyes the movement was intended for,
he had turned and given a man standing in the edge of the circle a
signal. The man at once had slipped back in the crowd and vanished.

"Powerful s'prisin'," and Quinley turned and grinned back into the face
of Ugger. "I reckon you can already feel th' rope a-tightenin' 'round
y'ur neck, can't you, Bill? That description sart'in fits us as pat as
an old shoe. But th' s'prisin'est thing 'bout it all is, that I don't
'pear tew have any rekerlections of a-committin' that murder. Must have
ben dreamin', when I done it."

The eyes of the alcalde, during this brief byplay, had been closely
watching the faces of the two men. He now turned to Thure again.

"Have you any witnesses, other than your fellow prisoner, to testify to
the truth of your statements?" he asked.

"No," answered Thure; "except that our mothers and our sisters and the
folks at the rancho can testify to our bringing home the body of the
dead miner and that we told them that we had found him just as I have
said that we did."

"That would prove nothing as to who committed the murder. Is there
anyone in Sacramento City that knows either of you two boys?"

"No," again answered Thure. "Not that I know of, unless," and his face
brightened, "Captain Sutler is here. He knows both of us well. We are
expecting to find our dads at Hangtown."

"Captain Sutter is not here," answered the alcalde, "as anyone in the
city might have told you; and it is impossible to send to Hangtown after
your fathers."

"But, are we to be proven guilty on the evidence of those two men alone,
whom I am almost certain committed the crime themselves?" and Thure's
face flushed indignantly. "Is not our word, at least, as good as
theirs?"

"Young man," replied the alcalde sternly, "that is for the jury to
decide. Have you any further evidence to give? If not, and the jury do
not wish to ask you any questions," he paused and glanced toward the
foreman, who shook his head, "you are dismissed, and the other prisoner
can take his place on the witness stand."

For a moment Thure hesitated. He wanted to say something, to do
something to further disprove this horrible accusation--but, what could
he say or do that he had not already said or done? He had told his
story. There was nothing more for him to tell, nothing more for him to
do; and, with tightly compressed lips, he turned and walked from the
witness stand back to his place by the side of the sheriff, while Bud
took his place in front of the barrel.

There was nothing new in Bud's testimony. He could only repeat, in
different words, what Thure had already told.

While Bud was giving his testimony, Spike Quinley worked his way up
close to Thure; and again a piece of paper was slipped furtively into
his hand.

Thure glanced down at the paper. At least here was a chance to escape
the worst. If Bud did not make a better impression than he apparently
had, then there would be nothing left but to surrender the map, that or
hanging. And it must be done soon now, or it would be too late. Thure
shuddered at the thought of the hanging; and, with fingers that trembled
a little, cautiously opened the paper and read these dreadful words:

     You have gone and done it now you infernal idjit by testifin' agin
     us it is now yur necks or ourn al hel kant save you now you kan
     keep the map and we wil git it off yur ded bodies and you kan have
     the satisfackshun of noin that you might have ben alive and wel
     when yur danglin ded at the end of a rope.

The vindictive scrawl closed with a rude attempt to draw a rope, hanging
from a tree, with a man dangling from one end.

Thure stared blankly at the paper for a moment after he had read the
words that appeared to close their last avenue of escape. He saw clearly
the force of their meaning. It had, indeed, now become a battle for life
between him and Bud and their two accusers. Their testimony, once they
were free, would turn suspicion directly upon Quinley and Ugger. It
would be suicidal for the two men now to attempt to do anything to free
them. Thure raised his eyes and looked wildly around, at the face of the
alcalde, the faces of the jury, and the faces of the surrounding crowd.
On all was a look of ominous sadness and sternness that made his heart
sink. Evidently the words and the actions of the cunning Ugger and the
crafty Quinley had again completely turned the tide against them. But
the worst blow was yet to come.

Bud completed his testimony and, in an ominous silence, was dismissed.
The alcalde arose from his judgment-stump and turned to address a few
final words to the jury; but, as the first word left his mouth, a
commotion occurred in the crowd directly in front of him.

"More testimony! Important testimony!" shouted a voice; and a man, with
his right arm done up in a sling, pushed his way through the encircling
crowd.

The man hastily and keenly scrutinized the faces of the two prisoners.

"Yes, them's sart'inly th' fellers," he said aloud; and turned his eyes
on the faces of their accusers.

"Them's shore th' same two men I seed. Thar's no mistaking them faces,"
he declared, with conviction. "Now," and he turned to the alcalde, "I
asks y'ur pardon, y'ur honor; but, bein' sum crippled with a broken arm,
as you can see, an', on that account, keepin' sum close in my tent, I
heared nuthin' of this trial 'til jest a few minits ago; but, when I did
hear of it, I felt mortally sart'in that it had tew do with th' same
murder that I witness in th' Sacermento Valley three days ago; an',
wantin' tew see that justice made no mistake, I got here as quick as I
could, tew give in my testimony. Hope I'm not tew late," and he fixed
his eyes anxiously on the face of the alcalde.

"No; you are not too late," the alcalde answered

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