Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 38

"The curse still pursues me. I have not written to conclude this letter since the night I started it, as hard luck again is my lot.

"I filed the claim and showed the ore but different laws prevail in Colorado, and I found I must register the nearest survey corners and sections to my mine to obtain a legal ownership; however my plans and specifications were sufficient to protect me from claim-jumpers.

"That afternoon, a storm came over the mountains and lasted three days.

It blew, and poured, and snowed, until it seemed as if all the furies in Hades were let loose. Then it cleared again and I started out with my dog and horse to visit my mine and make satisfactory corners and plans for filing.

"A great land-slide had occurred during that storm and the entire mountain-side was changed. Canyons, cliffs, and mine are gone. Wiped away as if they had never existed. Of course, I know the gold is still there but buried under tons of earth and trash. It will take longer and cost more to unearth, that is all.

"But I will have to locate the place anew as I have no bearings to work from, so I propose starting from Top Notch Trail and have Patsy help me find it on the down-side, as near as I can remember from the camping-spot of that night where I first wrote this letter:

"I am reserving this until I find the mine, then I will mail it at once. Now that I have definite grounds to work on, my enthusiasm is equal to carry me through any difficulties in my pathway."

"Oh, father, how sad!" wept Polly, handing the letter to Anne, to read to the other two girls.

"We know the rest, Polly. And that is why we never had you read this.

Now that we can prove the poor old man was sane, we will try to establish his reputation for all concerned," said Mr. Brewster.

"Why didn't you try to find his family when he died?" asked Polly, frowning at what she considered an oversight.

"We did. Every newspaper of reputation carried an advertis.e.m.e.nt, but Ah think, now, that the old man a.s.sumed another name than his rightful one. That is why we never had a reply to our ads," replied Mr. Simms.

Eleanor was elated at the romance of this experience, and turned to Polly, exclaiming:

"Oh, Poll! S'posing we meet Montresor's son some day, and you fall in love with him without knowing who he is! Then it will all come out when he visits your parents to ask for you, and he will get his share of the mine, anyway!"

Anne laughed heartily at such nonsense but Polly rather favored such an ending, so her mother and father quickly interrupted the romance by saying:

"Come, come, sign papers and wind up this affair!"

Mr. Simms said the a.s.say was more than satisfactory, and "Choko's Find"

was filed as the discovery of "Marybelle Brewster, daughter of Sam and Mary Brewster of Pebbly Pit."

"Who's Marybelle Brewster?" wondered Eleanor, surprised.

"It's me, but no one knows it!" laughed Polly.

"Sam, when do you reckon you-all ought to go back to the mine and investigate?" said Mr. Simms.

"We-all plan to ride there early in the morning. Will you-all try to come with us?"

"Ah'd like it first-rate. Ah haven't had my regular fishing trip this year and this will answer," replied Simms, eagerly.

"Then be sh.o.r.e to meet us at seven or eight o'clock at the Pine Tree just by the corduroy roadway," said Mr. Brewster.

"Sam, better get away before that! We won't be the only riders along Top Notch trail the moment this 'find' gets wind!" warned Simms.

"He's right, Sam! Let's start from the farm at day-break and meet Mr.

Simms at five or six," advised Mrs. Brewster.

"Right! Make it six, Simms, and see if the coroner and sheriff want an outing." Mr. Brewster's voice sounded interesting.

Just as the lawyer opened the door for the ladies to leave, a handsome young man of about eighteen came down the road. It was evident, in every way, that he was a "tenderfoot" newly arrived. Probably just came in on the noon local from Denver.

"I'm looking for Carew's Camp, sir. That cowboy over at the box-car said you might tell me how to reach it."

"Oh, that's the surveyin' crew for the government. Ah reckon you'll have quite a jaunt afore night to reach there. They're working about twenty mile from here--up on the Yellow Jacket Pa.s.s road," replied Simms, studying the surprised face closely.

"Ah saw Carew's driver stopping at Jake's when we drove by, Simms,"

said Mr. Brewster at this moment.

"If you-all can find Jake, that will be the way to arrive--take a reserved seat beside him,"' chuckled Simms.

The youth was shy before so many pretty girls, so he took off his cap to acknowledge the obligation, and would have backed away had not Simms asked a very strange question.

"Young man, you look exactly like an old friend I knew in these parts, some years back. So like, that I must ask you your name."

The stranger flushed and stammered: "I am Kenneth Evans, from New York."

Simms frowned when he heard the name and turned to Sam Brewster: "Did you ever see anything to beat that likeness to the man we were just talking about?"

Polly had noticed the resemblance as did her father, but nothing more was said at that time, as so much remained to be attended to before the ride on the morrow.

"Well, Boy, be sure to drop in and have a talk with me the next time you are in town. My friend was from your way, too, and who knows but we-all can hook up a relationship, eh?" said Simms, holding out his hand to young Evans.

"I'll be glad to do that," responded Kenneth, heartily.

Mrs. Brewster's kindly heart was touched by the utter forlornness expressed in the youth's face when he heard how far away the surveyor's camp was located, so she addressed him directly.

"Did you want to reach Carew to-night, or can you come home with us and get a fresh start for camp, in the morning?"

"I was supposed to report to Carew yesterday, but I lost the train at Chicago, and that made me late all along the line of train-connections," explained young Evans, smiling more cheerfully. "I thank you just the same, for inviting me to join your circle, but I really feel that I must find this man Jake and get away."

"Well, young man," now abetted Mr. Brewster, "do as you think best, but that won't prevent you from riding over to Pebbly Pit any day you can get away from work, and having dinner with us."

The young man was surprised at such hearty hospitality shown an utter stranger, but he had heard of western generosity and he now felt that he had met such types of westerners. Just now, Mr. Simms called out quickly: "There goes Jake! Hey, _Jake!_ Ah say--J-A-K-E!"

The man called Jake halted as he was crossing the muddy road, and looked towards the group which stood in front of Simms' office. Simms waved his wide-brimmed hat to denote that he was wanted, so the driver turned and slouched along the side of the road until he was within a few feet of the lawyer, before the latter explained.

"We-all got a fine young Tenderfoot here, for you, Jake, and Ah just wanted to warn you to handle him with care or these pretty gals of Pebbly Pit will call you to account for him. Boys are scarcer than hen's teeth, since the war, you know, and our gals are having a hard time raking the country to find such a swain as young Evans."

Mr. Simms' frivolous talk made the girls smile, and Kenneth Evans began to feel more at ease. But Jake was replying to the attorney's explanation, and he listened to what was said.

"Ah come all the way from camp, yistiddy, and no kid to be seen. Then the boss sent me back to-day to meet this local train but he ain't come yet. _Now_ when he shows up, he can walk to Carew's Camp, fur all I care! I'm going back, right off."

"Lookin' for a kid, eh? What sort of one is he?" teased Mr. Simms.

"Augh, Jim Latimer says he was bigger'n him, but a blondy. And he said he looked a Tenderfoot all through. I asked Red Mike if a feller stopped at his eatin' place for a snack, but Mike tole me he ain't seen no stranger in Oak Crick, this week," Jake grumbled.

"Did you say Jim Latimer?" exclaimed Eleanor, eagerly.