“Oh, go on and pick out a pretty place, and the boys will build you a shack.”
Smiling happily, Helen went across the track and back some yards and sat down. With a shout then Shoshone fired his pistol, and there was a wild rush of all present, but it was a good-natured one, thanks to the absence of the cause of most of the disputes of the far West—whiskey.
Then a strange phenomenon took place. As the pistol was fired, Shoshone sprang from the box and rushed forward with the rest, intent on finding Helen and protecting her from the rushing feet, and this box rose in the air of itself and two legs showed beneath it, until it reached the goal it had set, and then the box with the legs under it sat down on the ground, and those near could read the legend:
Morris Goldberg, Shoemaker, & Real Estate.
All present sent up such a shout of laughter that it set the crowd in such good humor that the town was born without a single fight.
As Shoshone reached the side of the dry-goods box he was nearly dead from laughter, but managed to say:
“Well, you have beat us all, Mr. Goldberg. We have but our lots, while you have your house all done, and are ready for business.”
“Yah, dere pe no flies on me, Mr. Shoshone. Vere is der Angel, mein partner in der claim? Meppe ve make some moneys in real estate, und I can vork at mein trate until ve fix it all. Yust to t’ink, she vos de sister of dot ‘Cactus Bill.’ I dell you dot she is a real angel. Didn’t she dake care of me after dot scoundrel knocked me out? Und she is like a mutter to dot Loney. Und she is so goot. Ach, Gott! if I haf millions, dey should all be hers.”
Somehow this frank admiration was not so pleasant to Shoshone as it might have been. He felt a sort of tugging at his heart that he had never felt before. Was it jealousy? He did not know exactly, but it was a very uncomfortable feeling. Then he asked how it was that Morris, with a claim, and thus a home of his own, should have come down here to try to grasp a homestead.
“Ah, mein friendt, it vos because one of dem cigar-store signs came und said dot he haf heard dot dose mens vot haf stole mein chilt vos coming here, und I comet too. Und so long as ve vos here, it don’t cost nodings to take de claim, and so, meppe, I vork und make enough to vork de claim. Say, Shoshone, vy you don’t get merrit mit de Angel, and live here, too?”