The Hidden Mine

4 Gone!

We hastened our preparations the next morning for the journey after the gold of the hidden mine. Weapons were the first and most important consideration in those times, for a man’s life was at risk wherever he went, and it was his own business to defend it. There were few chances that anybody else would do it for him. A weakling had no business to be in California in the first flush of the gold fever. We had the rifles and pistols which had served us so well on the plains, for we never knew when we would have to use them again.

We laid in a plentiful store of ammunition, and then we bought six stout mules, of a rather dwarfed and stumpy kind, more like donkeys or burros than the fine big mules one sees in the East. But they were faithful little beasts, and they were as tough as if they were made of so much wrought steel. These animals were for combination uses. We would ride them part of the time—that is, when we needed rest—but the chief duty for which they were reserved was to bear back to San Francisco, on their backs, all that beautiful gold of which Pedro talked with so much enthusiasm. We made up in packs the few mining tools which we would need, and then strapped the baggage across the backs of the mules.

These purchases nearly exhausted our supplies of money, and we were anxious to get away from San Francisco as soon as possible and enter the wilderness, where it would cost us nothing to live.

Pedro stuck close to us while these preparations were being made. He helped a little, but he was not an adept at such things. Probably he would have been of more use aboard ship.

When everything was nearly ready we left the mules at a stable and went to a restaurant to get a good square dinner before leaving San Francisco. Pedro did not wish go with us. He wanted to prepare one of his own foreign dishes just to suit himself, and he said he would do it at our room. So Pike and I took him there and, promising to return for him soon, went back to the restaurant.

As we were the only people in the place, we talked very freely about our forthcoming adventure, which we hoped, and believed, too, would make us all rich men. We were in great spirits. Even the saturnine Pike talked boyishly of the mule-loads of gold we would bring back to San Francisco.

He mixed us a fine toddy—a Kentucky mint julep, he called it—and we drank to Henry’s toast: “Here’s to the hidden mine, and may it not be hidden long from us!”

And enthusiastic little Bonneau added: “And may we find gold enough to buy all ze beautiful Paris and divide it among ourselves, if we want it!”

To which toast we drank as heartily as to the first, though none of us, save Bonneau, had ever seen Paris.

The dinner over, Pike suggested that he and I go for Pedro, and then start at once for the country. So we walked around to the room, and as we pushed open the door, Pike called out cheerily:

“Wa’al, Pedro, my boy, all’s ready now, an’ we’re off fur that gold.”

There was no reply, and Pike exclaimed in astonishment:

“Why, whar’s Pedro?”

The Manila man was not in the room.

“By gosh,” said Pike, “I’d never a-thought that little feller would get up spunk ’nuff to go out uv this room by hisself. He’ll be shore ter think every man he met wuz Halftrigger. I guess sence he’s gone thar’s nuthin’ fur us to do about it but to set here and tell he comes back.”

I thought it very curious that Pedro should have gone out, and was annoyed, too, as he was delaying us. Still there was nothing to do, as Pike said, but sit down and wait for him. I was just about to make myself comfortable on one of the nail kegs when some marks attracted rny attention. Scrawled across the head of the keg with a piece of chalk were these words:

Pedro sezs he’s sorry to part with sech fine gents as ye are, but he’s made up his mind thet his old frien’ Hank Halftrigger is the the truest and best frien’ he’s got, and thet he’s sorry fur havin’ desarted him. So he’s repented in time and jined him agin to carry out future good works.

Your obedient servant,
Hank Halftrigger.

All the man’s devilish impudence and wickedness flashed upon me, and I fear I uttered something very much like an oath.

“Wa’al, I’ll be flabbergasted!” exclaimed Pike, sinking down on a keg, while a look of consternation overspread his face.

There was a cause for consternation. Our guide and the real owner of the gold, for he had found it, was gone and was in the hands of his enemy. Never, even in the first moments of our surprise, did I think that Pedro had gone willingly with the sailor. His fear and detestation of him had been too evident. The whole thing was plain to me. Hank Halftrigger had watched us, and when he saw that Pedro was left in the house alone he had entered and bullied the poor wretch, until, frightened out of his senses, he had gone off with our enemy.

“What fools we were ever to have left him alone for a minute!” I said.

“You’re callin’ us by the right name, boy,” said Pike. “I wish you’d take that piece uv chalk Halftrigger hez left on the floor thar and write ‘fool’ right across the middle uv my forehead. I want it in great big letters ‘F-o-o-l.’ I don’t think I kin feel satisfied until that word is thar.”

I did not obey Pike’s request, but for the time I was dazed at this sudden overturning of all our fine plans.

“What are we to do?” said I, weakly.

“I think we’d better git the rest uv ther boys and hold a council uv war on this here thing.” said Pike. “We’re pards you see and all ought to have a hearing.”

This was sensible advice, and it was acted upon immediately. Pike remained in the room, while I went after the others. They were as much dismayed as we had been when they heard the news.

“Now, boys,” said Pike, when we all gathered in the room, “you know just what happened. What are we ter do?”

“I don’t think thar’s but one thing fur us to do.” said Starboard Sam, “an’ that’s to hunt up that pirate and rescue Pedro.”

“That’s the way I think,” said Henry. “Pedro’s life is safe, even from that villain Halftrigger, because he knows the secret of the mine. Besides he is not a child to be kidnapped and carried off from the city without anybody finding it out.”

“It seems that he was kidnapped from this room very handily,” I said.

“That’s a different matter,” replied Henry, “but now that we are here on guard, I don’t see how he can lug him out of the city and escape our observation.”

“The kid’s cuttin’ to ther core an’ I think ef we watch good, Halftrigger won’t slip past us. It’s settled that we’ve got to git Pedro back, ain’t it. I ain’t fur givin up ’ this chase fur a minute,” said Pike.

“Nor I!”

This from the others.

“Wa’al it’ll be mighty curious,” said Pike, “ef we kain’t find thet little heathen ag’in. Ef the critter hed any sort uv spunk hisself, he’d break loose an’ come back an’ j’ine us. But I don’t suppose we must ’xpect such luck ez thet. Why, he’d shake ez ef he felt a Mississippi River chill the minute Halftrigger raised his little finger.”

We might have made a noise about the kidnapping of the Manila man and have notified the city authorities, but that, we feared, would involve the disclosure of the secret of the gold. Then half the town would be trying to beat us to the mine. That would never do. We were agreed on that point. We had no fears for Pedro’s safety, for his life was as valuable to Halftrigger as it was to us.

We unpacked our baggage and brought it back to the room. Our mules we left at the stable, for we hoped that we would need them again in a day or two. Then we began at once to search for Pedro. For several days we hunted through every part of the town. We went through all the saloons and dives, but nowhere could we find a trace of Pedro and Halftrigger. They could not have disappeared more completely if they had been sunk to the bottom of the sea. Halftrigger was known at several places, but none of the occupants had seen him for some time. We were compelled to be very guarded in our inquiries for fear of attracting intrusive and unpleasant attention to our affairs. Still we were able to ascertain, as we thought, that no persons answering to the description of Pedro and Halftrigger had left the city. We were forced to the conclusion that they were still there, though they had managed to elude our search in some manner.

“I’m clean beat,” said Pike, on the morning of the fourth day, “an’ I’d a never thought a thing like it could a happened. The idee of a man allowin’ another man to carry him off an’ keep him hid just ez ef he wuz a monkey or a parrot.”

Pike’s features expressed the most intense disgust, and I think if he could have found Pedro then, glad as he would have been to see him, he would have given him a trouncing.

“I vote we let ’em go,” resumed Pike, presently.

“What do you mean?” I asked in surprise. “Give up the gold and let that fellow Halftrigger have it?”

“Not by a darned sight,” he replied, “but ez we kain’t find em, what’s the matter with our strikin’ out on the hunt on our own hook. We’ve got that diagram Pedro drawed fur us, an’ I’m willin’ to bet that if we follow his descriptions we kin find thet dry river bed, and then the gold.”

“But would that be treating Pedro fairly?” Henry asked. “The gold is really his by right of discovery, and, besides, he is in the power of Halftrigger, whom he fears and hates. Ought we to leave him there? It seems to me there are two reasons, each a very strong one, why we should remain here and continue the the search for him either until we find him or ascertain that he has gone.”

“I guess you’re right about it,” said Pike, scratching his head. “We won’t go back on the little feller, even ef he ain’t got no more grit than a baby.”

We continued the search for two days without result and then Starboard Sam made a proposition:

“I’m thinkin’, lads,” said he, “thet Halftrigger will try to get out o’ this town by water. I wonder we didn’t think of it afore. It’s easy ’nuff fur him and his crew to git a boat, take Pedro with ’em, and then after goin’ outside the bay, drop down the coast a bit an’ lan’. Ef they slipped past us thet way we could never find a trace o’ them.”

This view of the case impressed us all. It would be the natural thing for Halftrigger, who had spent most of his life on the water, to take to it again in case of an emergency.

Consequently we agreed to begin a patrol of the water front also the next morning, We took the chances on his slipping out before that time.

This Pike and I did while Henry, Sam and Bonneau continued the search through the town. There was plenty of shipping about San Francisco then, barks, barkentines, schooners and all sorts of vessels, the names of which I don’t know, for I have been a landsman all my life. Some were loading for the Sandwich Islands, some for Mexico and others for up and down the coast. Using one excuse and another, we asked the masters of the coasters whether they were going to take any passengers. Sometimes the answers were civil and sometimes they were very uncivil. But invariably we persisted and got the information. Of course, it would have been easy enough for a master to have deceived us, and we were compelled to form our opinion of what they said from the manner of the men.

Our bad luck continued throughout the day, but the next morning we resumed the task as diligently as ever. It was near the noon hour, and we concluded to knock off for a bit and get something to eat. As we turned away from a rickety wharf on which we had been standing Pike said:

“From the way that feller over thar is dodgin’ about he’s hidin’ from somebody, jest ez Halftrigger an’ his crowd are hidin’ from us.”

“What fellow?” I asked, for I had not noticed any one who was attempting to evade observation.

“Don’t you see him over thar,” said Pike, “dodgin’ along by that wooden fence?”

As he spoke he pointed a long forefinger, and I had a good look at a dark, thick figure just as it turned a corner. But that one look set all my pulses beating.

“That’s Spanish Pete! The man was with Halftrigger the other night,” I whispered hurriedly to Pike, as I started to follow the fellow. But here the veteran hunter’s coolness and caution held me back.

“Hold on, Joe, my boy,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We won’t let that varmint know we’re follerin’ him. Go easy now.”

I felt the justice of his caution, for I would have rushed off helter skelter after the Spaniard. Pike took the lead, and, sauntering along as if we had no cares on earth, we reached the corner around which we had seen the Spaniard disappear. There was a long, straight stretch of street before us, and our man was not fifty feet ahead, slouching along and casting suspicious glances about him.

“Keep well behind me,” said Pike. “The fellow has never seen me afore, and he mustn’t hev a chance to recognize you. Don’t ’pear to be a pardner uv mine, but slouch along ez ef you never seed me afore. Now foller, an’ it’s a dollar to a nickel we find out somethin’ worth knowin’ about this gang we’re tryin’ to run down. But be shore you watch what you’re about, an’ don’t let him by any chance see you.”

Pike sauntered carelessly along, and obedient to his instructions I kept the big form of the hunter between our quarry and me. For more than half an hour we moved through the crowded streets, Pike following the Spaniard, while I followed Pike. Our course lay near the bay, and at first through a rather thickly populated part of the town. The Spaniard would stop occasionally and look about him as if he feared he was being followed. Then I would keep well behind Pike or shrink into a doorway, while the hunter, with better powers of acting than I ever gave him credit for before, would stalk along in the gawky manner of a countryman among strange and interesting scenes. The Spaniard must have noticed Pike more than once, but apparently his suspicions concerning him were not aroused—at least not then.

We approached presently the outskirts of the town, and here the Spaniard stopped for a longer time than usual. I had stepped behind a shanty which luckily was near, in time to prevent his noticing me. But he made a long survey of Pike, and even at the distance, I could see a suspicious look on his sinister face. He hesitated for a minute or two and then he came towards Pike.

Pike stood in the street staring about him with the open-mouthed interest of a green countryman. The Spaniard came up and abruptly asked:

“Why do you follow me?”

An expression of stupid wonder spread over Pike’s face.

“Say, now, stranger, thar is mighty cur’us people in this town. What fur do you think I follow you?” drawled Pike.

“That is what you have been doing,” said the Spaniard with emphasis.

Pike leaned against an empty dry-goods box and laughed such a long and loud laugh that the Spaniard’s black eyes snapped with anger.

“Why do you laugh?” he asked. “I see nothing that is amusing.”

“Thar be such cur’us people in this cur’us town,” said Pike. “I’ve come all the way from ole Missoury to fill my pockets full uv gold that people all say is jest layin’ ’round loose in Californy, waitin’ and hopin’ fur people to pick it up. An’ when I come out to look at the town, jest havin’ arriv, you say I’m follerin’ you. What fur, stranger, do you think I’m follerin’ you? Hev you got a goldmine somewhars that you want to keep hid from everybody; I don’t reckin you’d be so skairt ’bout people follerin’ you ef you didn’t hev somethin’ uv the kind.”

The Spaniard looked keenly at Pike, but the hunter’s expression was as vacant as a calf’s. He stood awkwardly, his great, burly form hanging on its frame as loosely as the clothing on a scarecrow. He thoroughly looked the role he was playing, that of a heavy lout.

“I know nothing about any gold,” said the Spaniard. “I wish I did.”

“I tell you what,” said Pike, with an appearance of great enthusiasm. “You look like a right smart feller. Less me an’ you be pardners, an’ find enough gold to fill a house. I’ll give you half.”

“I believe you are a fool,” said the Spaniard, bluntly.

“Shucks! that don’t make me mad,” said Pike with a vacuous grin. “Lots uv people back in ole Missoury hev told me that same thing. I’m used ter that, I am, an’ you kaint hurt my feelin’s.”

Then Pike laughed uproariously, and snapped his fingers, making a noise like the cracking of a whip lash.

“I am not hunting for gold,” said the Spaniard disdainfully, “and if I were I would not want a fool like you to help me.”

So saying he turned and strode away.

“Guess I throwed him off the scent that time,” Pike called back to me.

“I must compliment you on your acting, Pike,” I said, “I did not know it was one of your accomplishments.”

“We’ll talk about that another time,” said Pike. “Now we’ve got to track that feller to the headquarters uv the gang, which will be hard to do ’cause he’s on the watch, an’ we can’t foller him ez we’ve been doin’. Here, you, boy you, come here!”

Pike addressed the latter words to a ragged, stumpy, but keen-faced boy of about twelve, who was loafing near.

“What d’ye want, mister?” asked the boy, who was a street Arab of the most pronounced type.

“Do you see that man ahead?” asked Pike, pointing to Spanish Pete, who was still in view.

“Yep,” said the boy laconically. “Wat’s de matmer wid de cove?”

“I want you to foller him.”

“W’y don’t yer do it yersef?”

“We don’t want him to see us. You foller him. Don’t go near him, but don’t let him git out uv yer sight. Then we’ll foller you.”

“What’s it worth?” asked the boy.

“Five dollars,” said Pike pulling out a gold half eagle.

“Fork over,” said the boy.

Pike handed him the coin. He looked at it critically a moment, thrust it into his pocket and said:

“You’re white, pardner. I’ll swing to that feller if he foots it till ter-morrer night.”

“Don’t let him know you’re followin’ him,” said Pike.

“I ain’t ez soft ez that,” said the boy scornfully, as he darted after the Spaniard, whose figure was now growing indistinct.

► ▲