CHAPTER XXI.—REACHING THE 400 FOOT LEVEL.
N the excitement incident to Col. Bonifield’s cross-cutting into the vein, the stage robbery, and the bewildering evenings spent in the society of Louise, Vance quite forgot about his hopes and fears relative to his investment in Waterville.
One evening he was out for a walk near the Bonifields’. Louise was standing on the porch. He lifted his hat, and she waved a dainty little handkerchief, and came down the road to meet him. There was a troubled expression on her face which Vance had never seen before. It cut him to the heart, and he feared some great calamity had befallen her.
“Mr. Gilder,” said she, after the morning salutation, “my father is very despondent this morning, and while he desires greatly to see you, yet he is so broken down that I do not know whether he will be able to see anyone until this afternoon.”
“Why, what has happened?” asked Vance, in alarm. They were walking along toward the Bonifield residence as they talked.
“So you have not heard?” said Louise, looking up with her big, blue eyes. Vance looked at her in astonishment. "You have not heard,” she repeated, “that they have finished cross-cutting?”
“No,” replied Vance.
“Yes, they have finished the work,” repeated Louise, and then almost broke down in tears. He led her to a seat on the broad porch where the morning sun shone full and warm, and begged her to calm herself, and tell him what had happened to her father.
“Is it not quite enough?” said she, looking up at Vance through her tears, “another disappointment is father’s only reward.”
Vance was shocked, for this disappointment meant a great deal to him.
“Is it possible,” he ejaculated, “and your father was so confident only the other night!”
“You will not be angry with father?” said Louise, laving her hand on Vance’s arm.
“Angry,” replied Vance, “no; why should I be? He and I are jointly interested in results. If they are unfavorable, why, he cannot be more disappointed than I am. Had he been successful, we would have been equal partners as well.”
“Thank you,” said Louise, “I pity my poor father so much.” She dried her eyes a little and then went on: “Aunt Sally was so querulous with papa last evening when she heard the result, and it made papa very unhappy; indeed, he did not sleep any during the night, though I have comforted him as well as I could.”
“And have not slept a wink?” said Vance, looking at her keenly.
“How could I, when papa was so troubled?”
Vance was silent. Presently he spoke: “I will confess I never was more disappointed in my life. I was so hopeful your father would be successful. Mind,” he continued, hastily, glancing at Louise, “I attach no blame to him.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, and Vance went on, “No, I do not blame him, neither do I blame myself. Hundreds, yes, thousands have pursued the same course. Some of them have been successful, and others, ourselves included, have not. I regret that your father should have spent so many years of his life in that useless prospect shaft.”
“There is hope yet, Mr. Gilder.”
“Hope,” said Vance quickly, “where?”
“The ore,” she continued, “is richer than at the 300 foot level.”
“And do you believe—?” commenced Vance.
“Do not ask me, please, Mr. Gilder, what I believe at this time. Mr. Grim was here early this morning and left a proposition with papa. He has not the heart, he says, to tell you of it, and requested me to do so. You know, Mr. Grim,” she continued, “is said to be a very good business man. He has examined the ore found at the 400 foot level, and says it is much richer than at the 300 foot level. He offers now, if you and papa will give him a half interest in the mine, to furnish the money to sink the shaft to the 500 foot level.”
“So,” said Vance, reflectively. Presently he said: “If Rufus Grim has confidence to go to the 500 foot level, why not your father and I?”
“But it will cost $6,000, Mr. Gilder, and neither papa nor I could think of asking you to put any more money into Gray Rocks.”
“I do not think your father should take it to heart so; indeed, I do not.”
“He does not care for himself, and neither do I care for myself, Mr. Gilder, but we do care for you.” Vance started and the blood mounted to his face “You have been so kind to my father and placed such unbounded confidence in his judgment, and now it seems as if it were impossible for him ever to repay you, unless—,” she hesitated.
“Unless what?” asked Vance, impatiently.
“Unless you would be willing to join father in giving a half interest in Gray Rocks to Mr. Grim, and let him go on and develop the mine.”
“What does your father advise? What does he say?”
“He wants to go on to the 500 foot level, Mr. Gilder, and says he will give his own half interest in Gray Rocks to Mr. Grim rather than let the work stop at the 400 foot level. Father believes that at the 500 foot level they will strike ore as rich as any that has been discovered on the Peacock, and it looks as if Mr. Grim thought the same way, else he would not be so willing to advance the money.”
“Have you confidence in Mr. Grim?” asked Vance.
“We have always distrusted him,” replied Louise, “but perhaps he is not so bad and mean as we have thought.”
“And do you think,” asked Vance, “that ore will be discovered at the 500 foot level?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, “but I hope so.”
“Would it not be better,” urged Vance, “to give it all up and leave these wild mountains and return to civilization, so to speak, where your father could enjoy the remaining years of his life in peace and contentment?” His words were full of earnestness, and he spoke with great deliberation.
“If such an opportunity should present itself,” said Louise, “I know my father would refuse it, for he is so high-spirited, and moreover, he believes that a little more work, and a little more time and expense on Gray Rocks, and his prophecy will be fulfilled.”
Vance rose to go, but still lingered near the beautiful girl, as if she were a balm to his evident disappointment. Finally he said: “You say it will require $6,000. Now, if you had $6,000, Miss Louise, and it was every dollar you had in the world, what would you do with it?”
“I would sink the shaft on Gray Rocks to the 500 foot level,” she replied quickly. “Shall I tell my father,” she asked, as Vance started to go, “that you are favorable to Mr. Grim’s proposition?”
“No,” replied Vance, doggedly, “I have no confidence in Rufus Grim. You may tell your father that I say not to worry any more. With your permission, I will return in a couple of hours, and will then be glad to see him.”
Louise seemed ignorant of any knowledge of Vance’s passionate love for her. Her mind and thoughts were so entirely in sympathy with her father, whom she loved so dearly and so devotedly. As Vance bade her good-bye, she took his outstretched hand as if he had been her benefactor, instead of only her father’s friend.
“Your judgment,” said Vance, “has decided me; we will go on blasting—down, down, down—through solid rock toward an unknown doom. How it will end remains to be seen.” Before Louise could make a reply, he had turned and walked rapidly away toward his hotel.
Looking carefully over his accounts, he found he still had to his credit, in the Chemical National Bank of New York city, barely $6,000. He paced the floor for a full half-hour in deep thought. Finally he paused and said aloud, “she would advance her last dollar to sink the shaft to the 500 foot level—a weak, little, lovely woman, yet stronger in her affections and devotion than a regiment of soldiers. Yes, I will do it; I will gamble my last dollar—for it is nothing better than a gamble, and yet—well, who knows? We may strike it after all.”
He drew a check for the amount, making it payable to Colonel Ben Bonifield. Before signing it, he looked at it long and thoughtfully. “Why do I do this? Is it my faith in Gray Rocks? No. Is it my faith in Colonel Bonifield? No. Is it my faith in Louise? Yes, a thousand times, yes.” His hand trembled a little as he signed his name to the check. It was the last throw of the dice. He felt that he had in a measure passed his word to Louise. There was a question of daily bread that must now be solved. The question was immediately ahead of him. He would call on Colonel Bonifield and then devote himself to the bread question. Yes, he would solve it.
Strong with resolution, and with a judgment sadly warped because of his love for Louise, he returned to the Bonifield home. Louise met him at the door, and he went with her into the spacious parlor, where a wood fire was burning brightly in the open grate.
“I delivered your message to my father,” she said, “and he has fallen into a restful sleep.”
“Do not disturb him,” said Vance, “in this envelope is a check for $6,000. Tell him to start to-morrow morning for the 500 foot level.”
The impulsive Louise took the proffered envelope from Vance with hands that trembled noticeably, while two great tears dimmed her lustrous blue eyes. “Why have you done this?” she asked.
It is probable that Vance would then and there have told her why, had not Colonel Bonifield appeared in the door. “Mr. Gilder,” said he, “Yo’r presence in my house brings sunshine with it. Yo’ know the worst. Louise tells me she has informed yo of the unfo’tunate geological fo’mation to be found at the 400 foot level in Gray Rocks?”
Louise turned from Vance to her father while he was speaking, and buried her face on his breast, weeping in stilled sobs. When Colonel Bonifield asked her why she was weeping, she handed him the envelope, and pillowed her head deeper on his breast. He opened the envelope and carefully scanned the check. The old man’s eyes were dimmed with tears of gratitude.
One arm was about his daughter, and the other he extended toward Vance, who accepted the proffered hand.
“Suh,” said the Colonel, “Yo’ ovehpoweh me with yo’r confidence. I have been workin’ away so long on Gray Rocks, suh, that I can’t blame my friends if they should lose heart. But, suh, somethin’ keeps a tellin’ me that my effo’ts will yet be rewarded. Yo’ honor me by sharin’ my confidence in the outcome of Gray Rocks; yo’ do, indeed, suh. There’s good blood, Mr. Gilder, cou’sin’ through yo’r veins, and there’s a crown awaitin’ yo’ when once we’ve reached the 500 foot level; yes, suh. I may neveh have mentioned it to yo’, but I once told yo’r father that if he would stay by Gray Rocks, it would make him a millionaire. I have forgotten whether I ever made the obse’vation to yo’ or not, but I wish to assure yo’ at this time, Mr. Gilder, in the presence of Louise, suh, that yo’r confidence in Gray Rocks is well-founded, and she will make yo’ richer than all the possessions left yo’ by yo’r worthy father; yes, suh, much richer.” Louise dried her tears and soon was cheerful as a mountain thrush that had never known a sorrow. The old Colonel declared he had never felt better in his life, and that work should be commenced early the following morning.
On his way back to the hotel, Vance called at the office of the Gold Bluff Prospector.
“Where is your typo?” asked Vance in the course of the conversation.
“Haven’t got any,” replied the proprietor, “he left this morning on the stage. We’ll not be able to get out an issue of the paper this week unless we find someone that can set type. Say,” said he, “why can’t I sell my printing office to you?”
“I’m not able to buy,” replied Vance.
“Well, I’ll lease it to you.”
“On what terms,” asked Vance.
“I’d lease it to you for one year for half its earnings,” replied the good-natured proprietor, who never was known to have enough energy to walk across the street to solicit an advertisement.
“What will it earn in a year?”
“Oh, twelve or fifteen hundred dollars—subscriptions and advertisements. I own the building. I call this the reception and editorial room; the other is the composing room, while the one back of where we are sitting is where the printer usually sleeps.”
In Vance’s college days, he had been one of the trio who had edited a college paper, set their own type, made up their own forms and circulated the issue after night, contenting themselves, for a compensation, with the general wonderment of their fellow-students as to who were the publishers. He felt that he was capable of acting as type-setter, as well as writing editorials, on the Gold Bluff Prospector. He examined the room designated as the sleeping apartment of the printer, and found it comfortable, yet very plain.
He told the proprietor he thought very favorably of his proposition, and believed he would accept it. The printing was done on an old-fashioned hand press, which would require the assistance of a boy for a couple of hours once a week.
Aside from this, Vance believed he was competent to handle all the details and labor connected with the paper. Before he retired that night, arrangements had all been made, the lease drawn and signed, and Vance commenced operations the next morning as the proprietor of the Gold Bluff Prospector. He moved his trunk and personal effects into the shabby back room, to be used in the future as his sleeping apartment. He settled his hotel bill, and found that he had less than $3.00 in his pocket on which to begin the struggle for bread.
It was a new experience, not without its novelty and excitement in anticipation, however. After he had arranged his room quite tidily, he commenced setting type, and smiled good humoredly to himself as he thought of the change from the great New York Banner to the Prospector. Yes, he had made sacrifices; and would he not willingly make any more to remain near the woman he loved with a love that surpasseth understanding.