Colorado Jim Part 17

"Yes," she replied bitterly. "You've got so far. And what next?"

"We're going to git gold. Yep, we sure are--and you're going to help."

She shut her mouth grimly. This was a big city; there were men here going back to civilization after making their fortunes. In a few weeks the river would be free and steamers would be making Vancouver. It oughtn't to be so difficult to find someone who would help her to escape from a man like this!

CHAPTER IX

HIGH STAKES

Before many days had pa.s.sed Angela realized how wisely Jim had traded in Vancouver. At the time she had wondered why he had been so prodigal in the matter of food. It seemed to her sheer lunacy to travel over icy mountains with what appeared to be enough food for a traveling circus. Now she saw that but for his foresight they might have felt the fine edge of starvation as others were doing.

With remarkable suddenness the cold had vanished and the thermometer mounted daily. A dank, warm atmosphere embraced the country. Under the vanishing snow were green buds that burst into bloom at the first direct rays of the sun. An unwelcome visitor invaded the camp--the mosquito. He rose from the swampy river in myriads, and made life a torture.

Jim had got his usual hustle on. Very quickly he became a popular figure in the town. But two days after his arrival he met an old friend--a gaunt, lanky figure, with a beard a foot long.

"Why, darn me if it ain't Colorado Jim!"

He turned and saw Dan, late owner of the Medicine Bow Hotel, looking wonderfully prosperous and happy.

"h.e.l.lo, Dan!"

"Gosh, you ain't altered none. Come and hev' some poison."

They pushed their way into a crowded saloon, and Dan flung down a small poke of gold-dust for a bottle of whisky, from which he received no change.

"What's your lay, Jim?"

"Prospectin'."

"Wal, yore sure a queer cuss. Why in h.e.l.l d'ye want to go prospectin' with a million of the best in the bank?"

Jim laughed.

"I'm broke, Dan."

"What!"

"Yep. An' I'm married."

Dan nearly choked. Then he clapped his hand on his leg and roared with delight.

"Married. Wal, I guess she's a lucky gal, even if you are bust. But how'd it happen?"

"Bad speculation. But I'm through with that. See here, Dan, I'm wantin' to stake a couple of claims, but every darn piece of dirt seems pegged out."

Dan stroked his beard.

"Yore late. I got wise to what it'd be like, so I hiked up here early.

Staked twenty-two on Bonanza and sold out yesterday to the Syndicate. Five hundred thousand I got, and never thawed out more'n a square yard of dirt.

And now I'm mushing for the bright lights."

Jim's face contracted.

"I hope you'll like 'em, Dan. They sure gave me the croup. Maybe I ain't built that way, and you are. 'Pears to me that the Klond.y.k.e is a mission-hall compared to London or New York. They'll take the gold filling from yore false teeth out there."

Dan surveyed him carefully.

"What's wrong, Jim? You seem kinder moody like. Someone kicked you in the hip?"

"You got it."

"Wal, I guess you'll git over it," said Dan philosophically. "Mebbe you'd like me to take some message back, eh?"

"She ain't back there," said Jim. "She's right here."

Dan looked as though he had been shot.

"What's that? You ain't telling me----?"

"Why not?"

"This is a h.e.l.l of a place for ladies."

Jim frowned. He knew that perfectly well. Now and again a feeling of self-reproach came, but he strangled it by reflecting upon the trick that had been played upon him. After all, he had bought her at her own price, and he meant to keep her.

Two or three of Dan's lucky friends were scanning Jim's enormous figure with obvious interest.

"Say, boys, 'member I told you about a husky guy at Medicine Bow who made a pile and sold out?"

"Sure!"

"Wal, this is him all right. Ain't he a beaut?"

They shook hands with Jim and ordered more whisky. Like Dan they were overburdened with money, and remarkably free with it. They were beguiling the time in innocent "jags" pending the arrival of the boat in the river that was to take them out of the Klond.y.k.e.

"Looking for a claim?" inquired one of them.

"Thet's so."

"Nothin' doing this side of Blackwater, but there's a d.i.n.ky little creek five mile up-river. What do they call that creek where Dave staked, Whitey?"

"Red Ruin," replied Whitey.

"Yep, Red Ruin. There's a mile or so at the lower end unstaked, and if there ain't gold there, my name ain't what it is. Dave staked 250 feet yesterday, and he's sure nuts on gold."