It was Twitchett's own fault, the boys said, with much sorrowful profanity. When they abandoned Black Peter Gulch2 to the Chinese, and located at Bender, Twitchett should have come along with the crowd, instead of staying there by himself, in such an unsociable way. Perhaps he preferred the society of rattlesnakes and horned toads5 to that of high-toned, civilized6 beings—there was no accounting7 for tastes—but then he should have remembered that all the rattlesnakes in the valley couldn't have raised a single dose of quinine between them, and that the most sociable3 horned toad4 in the world, and the most obliging one, couldn't fry a sick man's pork, or make his coffee.
But, then, Twitchett was queer, they agreed—he always was queer. He kept himself so much apart from the crowd, that until to-night, when the boys were excited about him, few had ever noticed that he was a white-haired, delicate young man, instead of a decrepit9 old one, and that the twitching10 of his lips was rather touching11 than comical.
At any rate it was good for Twitchett that two old residents of Black Peter Gulch had, ignorant of the abandonment of the camp, revisited it, and accidentally found him insensible, yet alive, on the floor of his hut. They had taken turns in carrying him—for he was wasted and light—until they reached Crockey's store, and when they laid him down, while they should drink, the proprietor12 of the establishment (so said a pessimist13 in the camp), seeing that his presence, while he lived, and until he was buried, would attract trade and increase the demand for drinks, insisted on putting Twitchett between the proprietary14 blankets.
Twitchett had rallied a little, thanks to some of Crockey's best brandy, but it was evident to those who saw him that when he left Crockey's he would be entirely15 unconscious of the fact. Suddenly Twitchett seemed to realize as much himself, and to imagine that his exit might be made very soon, for he asked for the men who brought him in, and motioned to them to kneel beside him.
"I'm very grateful, boys, for your kindness—I wish I could reward you; but haven't got anything—I've got nothing at all. The only treasure I had I buried—buried it in the hut, when I thought I was going to die alone—I didn't wan't those heathens to touch it. I put it in a can—I wish you'd git it, and—it's a dying man's last request—take it—and—"
If Twitchett finished his remark, it was heard only by auditors16 in some locality yet unvisited by Sam Baker17 and Boylston Smith, who still knelt beside the dead man's face, and with averted18 eyes listened for the remainder of Twitchett's last sentence.
Slowly they comprehended that Twitchett was in a condition which, according to a faithful proverb, effectually precluded19 the telling of tales; then they gazed solemnly into each other's faces, and each man placed his dexter fore-finger upon his lips. Then Boylston Smith whispered:
"Virtue20 is its own reward—hey, Sam?"
"You bet," whispered Mr. Baker, in reply. "It's on the square now, between us?"
"Square as a die," whispered Boylston.
"When'll we go for it?" asked Sam Baker.
"Can't go till after the fun'ril," virtuously21 whispered Boylston. "'Twould be mighty22 ungrateful to go back on the corpse23 that's made our fortunes."
"Fact," remarked Mr. Baker, holding near the nostrils24 of Old Twitchett a pocket-mirror he had been polishing on his sleeve. After a few seconds he examined the mirror, and whispered:
"Nary a sign—might's well tell the boys."
The announcement of Twitchett's death was the signal for an animated25 discussion and considerable betting. How much dust he had washed, and what he had done with it, seeing that he neither drank nor gambled, was the sole theme of discussion. There was no debate on the deceased's religious evidences—no distribution of black crape—no tearful beating down of the undertaker; these accessories of a civilized deathbed were all scornfully disregarded by the bearded men who had feelingly drank to Twitchett's good luck in whatever world he had gone to. But when it came to deceased's gold—his money—the bystanders exhibited an interest which was one of those touches of nature which certifies26 the universal kinship.
Each man knew all about Twitchett's money, though no two agreed. He had hid it—he had been unlucky, and had not found much—he had slyly sent it home—he had wasted it by sending it East for lottery27 tickets which always drew blanks—he had been supporting a benevolent28 institution. Old Deacon Baggs mildly suggested that perhaps he only washed out such gold as he actually needed to purchase eatables with, but the boys smiled derisively—they didn't like to laugh at the deacon's gray hairs, but he was queer.
Old Twitchett was buried, and Sam Baker and Boylston Smith reverently29 uncovered with the rest of the boys, while Deacon Baggs made an extempore prayer. But for the remainder of the day Old Twitchett's administrators30 foamed31 restlessly about, and watched each other narrowly, and listened to the conversation of every group of men who seemed to be talking with any spirit; they kept a sharp eye on the trail to Black Peter Gulch, lest some unscrupulous miner should suspect the truth and constitute himself sole legatee.
But when the shades of evening had gathered, and a few round drinks had stimulated32 the citizens to more spirited discussion, Sam and Boylston strode rapidly out on the Black Peter Gulch trail, to obtain the reward of virtue.
"He didn't say what kind of a can it was," remarked Mr. Baker, after the outskirts33 of Bender had been left behind.
"Just what I thought," replied Boylston; "pity he couldn't hev lasted long enough for us to hev asked him. But I've been a-workin' some sums about different kinds of cans—I learned how from Phipps, this afternoon—he's been to college, an' his head's cram-full of sech puzzlin' things. It took multiplyin' with four figures to git the answer, but I couldn't take a peaceful drink till I knowed somethin' 'bout8 how the find would pan out."
"Well?" inquired Mr. Baker, anathematizing a stone over which he had just stumbled.
"Well," replied Boylston, stopping in an exasperating34 manner to light his pipe, "the smallest can a-goin' is a half-pound powder-can, and that'll hold over two thousand dollars worth—even that wouldn't be bad for a single night's work—eh?"
"Just so," responded Mr. Baker; "then there's oyster-cans an' meat-cans."
"Yes," said Boylston, "an' the smallest of 'em's good fur ten thousand, ef it's full. An' when yer come to five-pound powders—why, one of them would make two fellers rich!"
They passed quickly and quietly through Greenhorn's Bar. The diggings at the Bar were very rich, and experienced poker-players, such as were Twitchett's executors, had made snug35 little sums in a single night out of the innocent countrymen who had located at the Bar; but what were the chances of the most brilliant game to the splendid certainty which lay before them?
They reached Black Peter Gulch and found Twitchett's hut still unoccupied, save by a solitary36 rattlesnake, whose warning scared them not. Mr. Baker carefully covered the single window with his coat, and then Boylston lit a candle and examined the clay floor. There were several little depressions in its surface, and in each of these Boylston vigorously drove his pick, while Mr. Baker stood outside alternately looking out for would-be disturbers, and looking in through a crack in the door to see that his partner should not, in case he found the can, absentmindedly spill some of the contents into his own pocket before he made a formal division.
Boylston stopped a moment for breath, leaned on his pick, stroked his yellow beard thoughtfully, and offered to bet that it would be an oyster-can. Mr. Baker whispered through the crack that he would take that bet, and make it an ounce.
Boylston again bent37 to the labor38, which, while it wearied his body, seemed to excite his imagination, for he paused long enough to bet that it would be a five-pound powder-can, and Mr. Baker, again willing to fortify39 himself against possible loss, accepted the bet in ounces.
Suddenly Boylston's pick brought to light something yellow and round—something the size of an oyster-can, and wrapped in a piece of oilskin.
"You've won one, bet," whispered Mr. Baker, who was inside before the yellow package had ceased rolling across the floor.
"Not ef this is it," growled40 Boylston; "it don't weigh more'n ounce can, wrapper and all. Might's well see what 'tis, though."
The two men approached the candle, hastily tore off the oilskin, and carefully shook the contents from the can. The contents proved to be a small package, labeled: "My only treasures."
Boylston mentioned the name of the arch-adversary of souls, while Mr. Baker, with a well-directed blow of his heel, reduced the can from a cylindrical41 form to one not easily described by any geometric term.
Unwrapping the package, Mr. Baker discovered a picture-case, which, when opened, disclosed the features of a handsome young lady; while from the wrappings fell a small envelope, which seemed distended42 in the middle.
"Gold in that, mebbe," suggested Boylston, picking it up and opening it. It was gold; fine, yellow, and brilliant, but not the sort of gold the dead man's friends were seeking, for it was a ringlet of hair.
Sadly Mr. Baker put on his coat, careless of the light which streamed through the window; slowly and sorely they wended their way homeward; wrathfully they bemoaned43 their wasted time, as they passed by the auriferous slumberers of Greenhorn's Bar; depressing was the general nature of their conversation. Yet they were human in spite of their disappointment, for, as old Deacon Baggs, who was an early riser, strolled out in the gray dawn for a quiet season of meditation44, he saw Boylston Smith filling up a little hole he had made on top of Old Twitchett's grave, and putting the dirt down very tenderly with his hands.
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1
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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gulch
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| n.深谷，峡谷 | |
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3
sociable
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| adj.好交际的，友好的，合群的 | |
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4
toad
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆 | |
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toads
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| n.蟾蜍，癞蛤蟆( toad的名词复数 ) | |
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6
civilized
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| a.有教养的，文雅的 | |
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accounting
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| n.会计，会计学，借贷对照表 | |
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8
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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9
decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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10
twitching
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| n.颤搐 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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12
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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pessimist
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| n.悲观者；悲观主义者；厌世 | |
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proprietary
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| n.所有权，所有的；独占的；业主 | |
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15
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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16
auditors
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| n.审计员，稽核员( auditor的名词复数 )；（大学课程的）旁听生 | |
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17
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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18
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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precluded
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| v.阻止( preclude的过去式和过去分词 )；排除；妨碍；使…行不通 | |
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20
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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21
virtuously
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| 合乎道德地，善良地 | |
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22
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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23
corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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24
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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25
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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26
certifies
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| （尤指书面）证明( certify的第三人称单数 )； 发证书给…； 证明（某人）患有精神病； 颁发（或授予）专业合格证书 | |
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27
lottery
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| n.抽彩；碰运气的事，难于算计的事 | |
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28
benevolent
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| adj.仁慈的，乐善好施的 | |
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29
reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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30
administrators
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| n.管理者( administrator的名词复数 )；有管理（或行政）才能的人；（由遗嘱检验法庭指定的）遗产管理人；奉派暂管主教教区的牧师 | |
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31
foamed
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| 泡沫的 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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33
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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34
exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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35
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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36
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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38
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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39
fortify
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| v.强化防御，为…设防；加强，强化 | |
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40
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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41
cylindrical
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| adj.圆筒形的 | |
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42
distended
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| v.（使）膨胀，肿胀( distend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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43
bemoaned
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的过去式和过去分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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44
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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