the faith of men-第11章

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one　Ans　Handerson；　a　Swede。



Ans　Handerson　had　been　working　for　wages　all　summer　at　Miller　Creek

over　on　the　Sixty　Mile；　and；　the　summer　done；　had　strayed　up

Bonanza　like　many　another　waif　helplessly　adrift　on　the　gold　tides

that　swept　willy…nilly　across　the　land。　　He　was　tall　and　lanky。

His　arms　were　long；　like　prehistoric　man's；　and　his　hands　were　like

soup…plates；　twisted　and　gnarled；　and　big…knuckled　from　toil。　　He

was　slow　of　utterance　and　movement；　and　his　eyes；　pale　blue　as　his

hair　was　pale　yellow；　seemed　filled　with　an　immortal　dreaming；　the

stuff　of　which　no　man　knew；　and　himself　least　of　all。　　Perhaps　this

appearance　of　immortal　dreaming　was　due　to　a　supreme　and　vacuous

innocence。　　At　any　rate；　this　was　the　valuation　men　of　ordinary

clay　put　upon　him；　and　there　was　nothing　extraordinary　about　the

composition　of　Hootchinoo　Bill　and　Kink　Mitchell。



The　partners　had　spent　a　day　of　visiting　and　gossip；　and　in　the

evening　met　in　the　temporary　quarters　of　the　Monte　Carloa　large

tent　were　stampeders　rested　their　weary　bones　and　bad　whisky　sold

at　a　dollar　a　drink。　　Since　the　only　money　in　circulation　was　dust；

and　since　the　house　took　the　〃down…weight〃　on　the　scales；　a　drink

cost　something　more　than　a　dollar。　　Bill　and　Kink　were　not

drinking；　principally　for　the　reason　that　their　one　and　common　sack

was　not　strong　enough　to　stand　many　excursions　to　the　scales。



〃Say；　Bill；　I've　got　a　chechaquo　on　the　string　for　a　sack　of

flour；〃　Mitchell　announced　jubilantly。



Bill　looked　interested　and　pleased。　　Grub　as　scarce；　and　they　were

not　over…plentifully　supplied　for　the　quest　after　Too　Much　Gold。



〃Flour's　worth　a　dollar　a　pound；〃　he　answered。　　〃How　like　do　you

calculate　to　get　your　finger　on　it？〃



〃Trade　'm　a　half…interest　in　that　claim　of　ourn；〃　Kink　answered。



〃What　claim？〃　Bill　was　surprised。　　Then　he　remembered　the

reservation　he　had　staked　off　for　the　Swedes；　and　said；　〃Oh！〃



〃I　wouldn't　be　so　clost　about　it；　though；〃　he　added。　　〃Give　'm　the

whole　thing　while　you're　about　it；　in　a　right　free…handed　way。〃



Bill　shook　his　head。　　〃If　I　did；　he'd　get　clean　scairt　and　prance

off。　　I'm　lettin'　on　as　how　the　ground　is　believed　to　be　valuable；

an'　that　we're　lettin'　go　half　just　because　we're　monstrous　short

on　grub。　　After　the　dicker　we　can　make　him　a　present　of　the　whole

shebang。〃



〃If　somebody　ain't　disregarded　our　notice；〃　Bill　objected；　though

he　was　plainly　pleased　at　the　prospect　of　exchanging　the　claim　for

a　sack　of　flour。



〃She　ain't　jumped；〃　Kink　assured　him。　　〃It's　No。　24；　and　it　stands。

The　chechaquos　took　it　serious；　and　they　begun　stakin'　where　you

left　off。　　Staked　clean　over　the　divide；　too。　　I　was　gassin'　with

one　of　them　which　has　just　got　in　with　cramps　in　his　legs。〃



It　was　then；　and　for　the　first　time；　that　they　heard　the　slow　and

groping　utterance　of　Ans　Handerson。



〃Ay　like　the　looks；〃　he　was　saying　to　the　bar…keeper。　　〃Ay　tank　Ay

gat　a　claim。〃



The　partners　winked　at　each　other；　and　a　few　minutes　later　a

surprised　and　grateful　Swede　was　drinking　bad　whisky　with　two　hard…

hearted　strangers。　　But　he　was　as　hard…headed　as　they　were　hard…

hearted。　　The　sack　made　frequent　journeys　to　the　scales；　followed

solicitously　each　time　by　Kink　Mitchell's　eyes；　and　still　Ans

Handerson　did　not　loosen　up。　　In　his　pale　blue　eyes；　as　in　summer

seas；　immortal　dreams　swam　up　and　burned；　but　the　swimming　and　the

burning　were　due　to　the　tales　of　gold　and　prospect　pans　he　heard；

rather　than　to　the　whisky　he　slid　so　easily　down　his　throat。



The　　partners　were　in　despair；　though　they　appeared　boisterous　and

jovial　of　speech　and　action。



〃Don't　mind　me；　my　friend；〃　Hootchinoo　Bill　hiccoughed；　his　hand

upon　Ans　Handerson's　shoulder。　　〃Have　another　drink。　　We're　just

celebratin'　Kink's　birthday　here。　　This　is　my　pardner；　Kink；　Kink

Mitchell。　　An'　what　might　your　name　be？〃



This　learned；　his　hand　descended　resoundingly　on　Kink's　back；　and

Kink　simulated　clumsy　self…consciousness　in　that　he　was　for　the

time　being　the　centre　of　the　rejoicing；　while　Ans　Handerson　looked

pleased　and　asked　them　to　have　a　drink　with　him。　　It　was　the　first

and　last　time　he　treated；　until　the　play　changed　and　his　canny　soul

was　roused　to　unwonted　prodigality。　　But　he　paid　for　the　liquor

from　a　fairly　healthy…looking　sack。　　〃Not　less　'n　eight　hundred　in

it；〃　calculated　the　lynx…eyed　Kink；　and　on　the　strength　of　it　he

took　the　first　opportunity　of　a　privy　conversation　with　Bidwell；

proprietor　of　the　bad　whisky　and　the　tent。



〃Here's　my　sack；　Bidwell；〃　Kink　said；　with　the　intimacy　and　surety

of　one　old…timer　to　another。　　〃Just　weigh　fifty　dollars　into　it　for

a　day　or　so　more　or　less；　and　we'll　be　yours　truly；　Bill　an'　me。〃



Thereafter　the　journeys　of　the　sack　to　the　scales　were　more

frequent；　and　the　celebration　of　Kink's　natal　day　waxed　hilarious。

He　even　essayed　to　sing　the　old…timer's　classic；　〃The　Juice　of　the

Forbidden　Fruit；〃　but　broke　down　and　drowned　his　embarrassment　in

another　round　of　drinks。　　Even　Bidwell　honoured　him　with　a　round　or

two　on　the　house；　and　he　and　Bill　were　decently　drunk　by　the　time

Ans　Handerson's　eyelids　began　to　droop　and　his　tongue　gave　promise

of　loosening。



Bill　grew　affectionate；　then　confidential。　　He　told　his　troubles

and　hard　luck　to　the　bar…keeper　and　the　world　in　general；　and　to

Ans　Handerson　in　particular。　　He　required　no　histrionic　powers　to

act　the　part。　　The　bad　whisky　attended　to　that。　　He　worked　himself

into　a　great　sorrow　for　himself　and　Bill；　and　his　tears　were

sincere　when　he　told　how　he　and　his　partner　were　thinking　of

selling　a　half…interest　in　good　ground　just　because　they　were　short

of　grub。　　Even　Kink　listened　and　believed。



Ans　Handerson's　eyes　were　shining　unholily　as　he　asked；　〃How　much

you　tank　you　take？〃



Bill　and　Kink　did　not　hear　him；　and　he　was　compelled　to　repeat　his

query。　　They　appeared　reluctant。　　He　grew　keener。　　And　he　swayed

back　and　forward；　holding　on　to　the　bar　and　listened　with　all　his

ears　while　they　conferred　together　on　one　side；　and　wrangled　as　to

whether　they　should　or　not；　and　disagreed　in　stage　whispers　over

the　price　they　should　set。



〃Two　hundred　andhic！fifty；〃　Bill　finally　announced；　〃but　we

reckon　as　we　won't　sell。〃



〃Which　is　monstrous　wise　if　I　might　chip　in　my　little　say；〃

seconded　Bidwell。



〃Yes；　indeedy；〃　added　Kink。　　〃We　ain't　in　no　charity　business　a…

disgorgin'　free　an'　generous　to　Swedes　an'　white　men。〃



〃Ay　tank　we　haf　another　drink；〃　hiccoughed　Ans　Handerson；　craftily

changing　the　subject　against　a　more　propitious　time。



And　thereafter；　to　bring　about　that　propitious　time；　his　own　sack

began　to　see…saw　between　his　hip　pocket　and　the　scales。　　Bill　and

Kink　were　coy；　but　they　finally　yielded　to　his　blandishments。

Whereupon　he　grew　shy　and　drew　Bidwell　to　one　side。　　He　staggered

exceedingly；　and　held　on　to　Bidwell　for　support　as　he　asked　…



〃They　ban　all　right；　them　men；　you　tank　so？〃



〃Sure；〃　Bidwell　answered　heartily。　　〃Known　'em　for　years。　　Old　sour

doughs。　　When　they　sell　a　claim；　they　sell　a　claim。　　They　ain't　no

air…dealers。〃



〃Ay　tank　Ay　buy；〃　Ans　Handerson　announced；　tottering　back　to　the

two　men。



But　by　now　he　was　dreaming　deeply；　and　he　proclaimed　he　would　have

the　whole　claim　or　nothing。　　This　was　the　cause　of　great　pain　to

Hootchinoo　Bill。　　He　orated　grandly　against　the　〃hawgishness〃　of

chechaquos　and　Swedes；　albeit　he　dozed　between　periods；　his　voice

dying　away　to　a　gurgle；　and　his　head　sinking　forward　on　his　breast。

But　whenever　roused　by　a　nudge　from　Kink　or　Bidwell；　he　never

failed　to　explode　another　volley　of　abuse　and　insult。



Ans　Handerson　was　calm　under　it　all。　　Each　insult　added　to　the

value　of　the　claim。　　Such　unamiable　reluctance　to　sell　advertised

but　one　thing　to　him；　and　he　was　aware　of　a　great　relief　when

Hootchinoo　Bill　sank　snoring　to　the　floor；　and　he　was　free　to　turn

his　attention　to　his　less　intractable　partner。



Kink　Mitchell　was　persuadable；　though　a　poor　mathematician。　　He

wept　dolefully；　but　was　willing　to　sell　a　half…interest　for　two

hundred　and　fifty　dollars　or　the　whole　claim　for　seven　hundred　and

fifty。　　Ans　Handerson　and　Bidwell　laboured　to　clear　away　his

erroneous　ideas　concerning　fractions；　but　their　labour　was　vain。

He　spilled　tears　and　regrets　all　over　the　bar　and　on　their

shoulders；　which　tears；　however；　did　not　wash　away　his　opinion；

that　if　one　half　was　worth　two　hundred　and　fifty；　two　halves　were

worth　three　times　as　much。



In　the　end；and　even　Bidwell　retained　no　more　than　hazy

recollections　of　how　the　night　terminated；a　bill　of　sale　was

drawn　up；　wherein　Bill　Rader　and　Charles　Mitchell　yielded　up　all

right　and　title　to　the　claim　known　as　24　ELDORADO；　the　same　being

the　name　the　creek　had　received　from　some　optimistic　chechaquo。



When　Kink　had　signed；　it　took　the　united　efforts　of　the　three　to

arouse　Bill。　　Pen　in　hand；　he　swayed　long　over　the　document；　and；

each　time　he　rocked　back　and　forth；　in　Ans　Handerson's　eyes　flashed

and　faded　a　wondrous　golden　vision。　　When　the　precious　signature

was　at　last　appended　and　the　dust　paid　over；　he　breathed　a　great

sigh；　and　sank　to　sleep　under　a　table；　where　he　dreamed　immortally

until　morning。



But　the　day　was　chill　and　grey。　　He　felt　bad。　　His　first　act；

unconscious　and　automatic；　was　to　feel　for　his　sack。　　Its　lightness

startled　him。　　Then；　slowly；　memories　of　the　night　thronged　into

his　brain。　　Rough　voices　disturbed　him。　　He　opened　his　eyes　and

peered　out　from　under　the　table。　　A　couple　of　early　risers；　or；

rather；　men　who　had　been　out　on　trail　all　night；　were　vociferating

their　opinions　concerning　the　utter　and　loathsome　worthlessness　of

Eldorado　Creek。　　He　grew　frightened；　felt　in　his　pocket；　and　found

the　deed　to　24　ELDORADO。



Ten　minutes　later　Hootchinoo　Bill　and　Kink　Mitchell　were　roused

from　their　blankets　by　a　wild…eyed　Swede　that　strove　to　force　upon

them　an　ink…scrawled　and　very　blotty　piece　of　paper。



〃Ay　tank　Ay　take　my　money　back；〃　he　gibbered。　　〃Ay　tank　Ay　take　my

money　back。〃



Tears　were　in　his　eyes　and　throat。　　They　ran　down　his　cheeks　as　he

knelt　before　them　and　pleaded　and　implored。　　But　Bill　and　Kink　did

not　laugh。　　They　might　have　been　harder　hearted。



〃First　time　I　ever　hear　a　man　squeal　over　a　minin'　deal；〃　Bill

said。　　〃An'　I　make　free　to　say　'tis　too　onusual　for　me　to　savvy。〃



〃Same　here；〃　Kink　Mitchell　remarked。　　〃Minin'　deals　is　like　horse…

tradin'。〃



They　were　honest　in　their　wonderment。　　They　could　not　conceive　of

themselves　raising　a　wail　over　a　business　transaction；　so　they

could　not　understand　it　in　another　man。



〃The　poor；　ornery　chechaquo；〃　murmured　Hootchinoo　Bill；　as　they

watched　the　sorrowing　Swede　disappear　up　the　trail。



〃But　this　ain't　Too　Much　Gold；〃　Kink　Mitchell　said　cheerfully。



And　ere　the　day　was