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

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28 THE !GS A T! AS spised it. For what or whom was he gathering it? Lot the robber have it. It could only bring him evil. His own claims were rich. There was plenty more. It was not cowardice that caused him almost to curse his haste, but the shame that he had had lost his self-control; that he had allowed the sentiments of earlier life to reassert their sway; that lie had proved recreant to his pessimism when unexpectedly put to the test. This was what pained him but he could not turn back now. No one would understand him. lie didn’t know that Mrs. O’Flaherty had sized him up when she said on one occasion; “It’s all war-paint that’ll come off wid the washin. ” He had no idea that the washing had commenced. Yes, he must go forward. This point settled, he felt that he was himself again. On he sped unmindful of the beauties of nature. He was thinking of tin miles ahead. To the outcome he gave little thought. No brave man thinks of the outcome. And, after all. to whom did it matter? In Hold-Hug he had finished the quest for vengeance. He had lived by the grave of the man who had ruined his life. It was hard for him to forgive his wife, and Ik yearned for his boy—but Black Jack was the proposition at present—Whoa! He had just turned a rocky bend in the road, and there coming down the hill at full speed was the stage that had been robbed. Had the stage been nearer the turn, his ride would have ended there; for the spring freshets had cut into the back leaving little room to pass. He and his horse would have landed among the boulders in the bed of the stream below. “You can’t even trust yourself in this world.’’ was his silent comment. And as he saw the stage-driver draw up his horses and reach for his gun. he added aloud. “And you can’t pin your faith to stage-drivers that have been visited bv Black Jack.” He threw up his arms and pressed his horse slowly forward to where a meeting might safely take place. The stage-driver soon recognized him and laid aside his gun. and as he took up the reins he east a hasty glance

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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

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 JUNIOR I.AW J. Copes lake F. Ainsworth G. Stockleldt J. Taylor H. Nolan M. Conklin H. Schmidt M. Gracia C. McCullough T. Desmond L. Davey E. O’Donnell J. Fitzgerald J. Welch J. McDermitt II. Ditxrt L Duty W. Presho C. Ohlandt