University of San Francisco - USF Don Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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26 THE ICS ATI AS private; and on the following night, they had slipped out of the camp for parts-unknown. They must have gone hy one of the trails for the stage-driver had not passed them on the road. The stream of life in Gold-Bug was too fast to bother itself with a bubble or two that had floated for such a short time on its bosom. A close observer would have seen the muscles around Seb’s mouth tighten and lines of pain deepen on his forehead. Could the speaker have had a hand upon the listener’s heart—but that was another matter. Seb casually glanced at the deserted hut; thought it would suit him; opined that the dead man’s ghost would not bother him; and settled down a denizen of Gold-Bug. Ib invested his money wisely; drank moderately and never gambled. If, at times, others filled their glasses at his expense they were welcome to do so; his own glass simply contained the minimum consistent with companionship. He would sit for hours silent in watching a game, but his interest was in a study of the players rather than the cards, and as he strode out into the night he would sum up all in the terse sentence “The Devil has the fools, but we are all in the shuffle.’’ At other times he would sit in the moonlight by the side of the cabin, never seeming to raise his eyes from the mound over which the trees cast their shadows. His face, however, was not pleasant to look upon. There was no tenderness for the departed What was the mystery of the grave? Vet beneath the cold cynicism of the man, there was a heart. Others were generous in words; he in deeds. The word of gratitude, however, must never be spoken. Gold-Bug knew the condition. Mrs. O’Flaherty was the first to sin and it was well that she was a woman. Her husband had met with a painful accident. Seb’s contribution had made appeals to others unnecessary and the poor woman was overcome with gratitude. “May Ilivin above an' His Blissed Mother an’ all the Saints”—She stopped short as she saw tin working of his features. “Cut it out ”, he shout-

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77 E PESSIMIST OE GOLD-KEG 25 confirmed his theory that the world ami its institutions were sunk in perdition. When Ilarrv Iloefler, the piano-player at the Argonaut, eloped with the widow Zander, and left his wife and three small children to fight life's battle alone, he discoursed long and eloquently on marriage as a mockery. When John Trueman, the cashier of tin Gold-Bug National Hank, absconded with the funds, he recalled to his hearers minds his pet theory that n; one could be trusted. When Andy Jones, the postmaster, was short in his accounts, Seh showed that “Government of the people, by the people and for the people was a fizzle. And when it was reported that the clergyman at Sheba Junction had repudiated an unsecured loan from a parishioner, he huddled the clergy of all times and placed into a common group and drove them through the gate that leaves all hope behind. What had soured this man was one mystery. What kept him in Gold-Hug was another. A man's lineage in a mining camp began and ended with himself. There was nothing to inquire as to that. 11 is history began with the last place he came from. It was dangerous to pry further unless by “special request. Seb had come from ’Frisco with plenty of money; had casually inquired about Bert Handley, a gambler, whom, he said, he had known as a boy and whom ldatives in the East were desirous of communicating with; and had manifested little emotion when a deserted hut was shown him in a redwood thicket with a narrow mound a short way off. “lie had expected such an end, he said. “Gamblers were fated to it, and it was to be by one hand or another. Hut it seemed as if his own hand moved instinctively to his pistol though he quickly suppressed the motion, and turning away asked if Bert had been alone. He was answered that he left a wife and a boy of fifteen; but as the tragedy had taken place a short time after the gambler's arrival, and mother and son had kept to themselves, little was known about them. Their only request was to be left undisturbed with tin dead; to have the burial strictly

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0 THE PESSIMIST OF GOLD-BI G 27 eel. “Cut it out. If you were a man I wouldn't leave a sound hone in your body. Saints —“Faix, said Airs. O’Flaherty. t “I’d like ter be a man jest ter have ye thry. Hut all the same, ye may he a saint yersilf without knowin’ it. It’s not the Oriole around the head that makes thim. It's the Oriole around the heart.’’ “Terrence made me , she said proudly later, “an' I didn't sthop to say more; hut Gold-Hug knew that like a skillful general she was glad to get her forces off safely, though she had to keep a brave face in retreat. No one imitated her courage, and Keb was left to keep the even tenor of his way. He was never deaf to the voice of charity. lie fed tin hungry; found work for the needy: saw that the sick had food and medicine; the indigent, burial. lie growled continuously hut his hands flew to the golden lining of his purse. “If people want to live and he miserable ”, he said, “I’m happy to keep them. When they're dead let’s get rid of them as easily as possible. Hut the day came when even Gold-Hug had a thrill. Black Jack had been reported to be at his game again, and stories of hold-ups had begun to trickle in from various places. And now it was Gold-Hug's turn. Its own stage some fifteen miles from town had been called upon “to deliver.” There had been resistance. This was naturally to be expected of Gold-Buggers. There had been killing. This was expected of Black Jack. Seb would be a heavy loser because a large part of his clean-up was on that stage. “Serves me right, he said, “you can’t trust anybody.” But whether served right or wrong, he acted promptly. While others were excitedly discussing the matter, he had gone to his cabin, saddled his mustang, looked to the prim-a ing of his pistols and was on his way. “Wait and we’ll join, cried a score. But he was already out of ear-shot and a trail of dust was the only answer that he sent back. And yet as he spurred his horse (pieer thoughts shot across his mind. What was it all to him? Gold? IB do- ts