Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 148: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

490 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. sor’s bungalow. They heard Ting Ling shuffling behind the curtained doorway and his occasional, lisping, singsong words— indications that the professor was break- fasting. As the men quietly assumed their accus- tomed positions, the professor’s gruff voice came to them: “Where are you going, boy?” ae Ling answered in a subdued falset- “Me go ‘long Mist’ Fallel. Me solly/ »») o go ‘long you, plofesso’. A momentary silence, then the professor cleared his throat savagely; there was a clatter of knife and fork, the scraping of a _ chair pushed back, and an ‘angry grunt: “Something’s the matter with the damned herring this morning!” The curtain was shoved aside and the professor growled-a short “ good morning.” Ting Ling helped him out of the dressing- gown and into a frock coat of uncertain period. The professor took his top hat from the Chinaman; in return thrusting ‘into Ting Ling’s astonishingly reluctant hand what looked like a roll of bank-notes. The Dry Gulchers, faces set, filed over to Dugan’s Livery and climbed into the waiting buckboards. Foley Dugan himself shambled down the steps from the store. “ Thought I'd go along as far as Tecopa,” he-vouchsafed. “ Who'll take care of the store, Foley?” dully remonstrated Mandy. “Oh, Sam can ’tend to things for a day —or them development fellows can help themselves,” Foley answered listlessly. There was the pulsating hum and rattle of machinery and the smoke of stationary engines over at the drift—the men working as usual. But Farrel came to the edge of town to wave a good-by to the Dry Gulch- ers. Amusement, pity, and a little of con- tempt were artfully blended in his parting smile. “Say, professor, let me plug ‘im jest once!” pleaded the impulsive Jack Rogers. But the professor, his lips compressed in a wry smile, put forth a detaining hand. With one accord the men swept their town of Dry Gulch with a lingering, hungry gaze -—then turned faces stonily to the desert before them. Deeper, bitterer silence never brooded over a party of men leaving a drab, desert town to seek the lights of a city. Fach was absorbed with his own reflections—and they were not pleasant. Six men there were among them who re- membered too well how they had staggered out of Death Valley and come, with the elad hurrah of discoverers into this land of gold and fortune. Life, luxuries, riches, ambitions—all had been theirs to com- mend! Now they were outcasts from the camp they had founded, and the fortune had vanished with their hopes. They cursed their own -weaknesses—truly! But in the breast of every man—the six pio- neers and their fellows—there blazed a con- suming hatred of Macdonald as the malev- olent cause of their downfall. They held a grievous score to settle. Even the farewell imbibings with Foley at the Prairie Dog in Tecopa failed to re- vive their drooping spirits. The function had all the appearance of a gloomy high executioner toasting the health of his pros- pective victims: “ Hope you make out all right, Foley, old pal,” said Doc with what cheerfulness he could muster as the train pulled in and Foley Dugan shook hands all around. “Me?” returned Foley in a hollow voice. ‘““T shut up my store soon as I get back. They ain’t no Dry Gulch for me with you fellers out of it.” VIL. MAny a curious passer-by paused at the intersection of certain streets in San Fran- cisco early this sultry afternoon. The professor’s rusty frock coat and an- cient topper; Doc’s immaculate cutaway of the same vintage, and the other miners in attire reminiscent of the Forty-niners, in themselves courted attention. But what chiefly ‘held the speculative eye of onlookers was the animation and earnest- ness pervading this strange group. “This ain’t nowise like the other offices of the Western Mining Development Com- pany I was in,” Tiny Tim was insisting obstinately. Mandy Swatt peinted an impatient fin- ger at a penciled memorandum.: “ Here, th Gi COMME IOOLS.COM