Besides these people, I had visitors, beginning with Sergeant Gathercole, an ex-vet, a nice chap, and a temperate man when sober. He had a charming habit, I remember, during meal times of combing out his tawny mustache with his fork. Gathercole came with a pack-horse load of government grub, a proper splint and bandages which made me comfortable, and any amount of advice, messages, even presents from fellows I disliked. The troop, he told me, was leaving for Wild Horse Creek, but Black Prince was to stay with our Windermere detachment, and I could send down for him when I was fit for duty.
For the first fortnight, I had only occasional news of the three freaks up at the Throne. They lived in the clouds, believing that they held the mighty secret by which whole mountain ranges could be milled for gold. They dreamed of wealth beyond imagination, and carried themselves like demigods—at first.
Then at our shack there arrived, with pomp and circumstances, Doctor Eliphalet Burrows impressively arrayed in a silk hat, frock suit and nice brown shoes. Some one had told him long ago that his voice was resonant, so he did cultivate the same, producing it like a bull frog from his thin hind legs. According to his niece, Mrs. Sarde, he had a most charming smile, and this, too, he used at random. Indeed, he was so mellow and rotund, so large and resonant, that one might safely compare him with a drum—played by Mistress Violet.
He contrasted my trivial injuries with the grave condition of his esteemed friend Rams, who had sustained an oblique fracture of the humerus, whereas I had only a mere broken thigh-bone. The rich man's finer nature, so delicately strung, made him most exquisitely susceptible to pain.
Next, Loco proceeded to find himself in a most embarrassing—ahem—situation, being suah that, notwithstanding the expressed wish of his deah niece, I would not permit him to discuss that unfortunate contretemps which had attended my visit to his humble—ahem—abode.
I told him that mustard made the hair grow.
Charmed as he had been to receive as his honored guest the distinguished English mining engineer, his deah friend Rams, a six weeks' visit was more than he deserved. The fact was that, to be perfectly frank, provisions were running—ahem—and he regarded with concern an impending inconvenience to his illustrious guest. Now he was given to understand that the authorities had placed at my disposal a pack-horse load of—ahem—ahem— To be precise, did I think that, under the peculiar—ahem—which had arisen through my misunderstanding the—er—nature and uses of dynamite, I should be—ahem—disposed, et cetera?
I told him I'd see him damned first, and he said he would pray for me on his way home.
It is the nature of women to disdain those who love them, and to love those who abhor them. I loved all women, so Mistress Violet, knowing she owned me anyway, could not be bothered to call until I had been about a month in bed. The good hope of catching Rams was better than the poor possession of her Blackguard, so when she came at last it was on business, without the least pretense to sentiment. I had pretty well cured her of trying that on me.
"I just got," she explained, "to marry Rams, and that's all there is about it. I've come to sit with you all the time now to make him jealous."