Royal Thatcher1 worked hard. That the boyish little painter who shared his hospitality at the “Blue Mass” mine should afterward2 have little part in his active life seemed not inconsistent with his habits. At present the mine was his only mistress, claiming his entire time, exasperating3 him with fickleness4, but still requiring that supreme5 devotion of which his nature was capable. It is possible that Miss Carmen saw this too, and so set about with feminine tact6, if not to supplement, at least to make her rival less pertinacious7 and absorbing. Apart from this object, she zealously9 labored10 in her profession, yet with small pecuniary11 result, I fear. Local art was at a discount in California. The scenery of the country had not yet become famous; rather it was reserved for a certain Eastern artist, already famous, to make it so; and people cared little for the reproduction, under their very noses, of that which they saw continually with their own eyes, and valued not. So that little Mistress Carmen was fain to divert her artist soul to support her plump little material body; and made divers12 excursions into the regions of ceramic13 art, painting on velvet14, illuminating15 missals, decorating china, and the like. I have in my possession some wax flowers—a startling fuchsia and a bewildering dahlia—sold for a mere16 pittance17 by this little lady, whose pictures lately took the prize at a foreign exhibition, shortly after she had been half starved by a California public, and claimed by a California press as its fostered child of genius.
Of these struggles and triumphs Thatcher had no knowledge; yet he was perhaps more startled than he would own to himself when, one December day, he received this despatch19: “Come to Washington at once.—Carmen de Haro.”
“Carmen de Haro!” I grieve to state that such was the preoccupation of this man, elected by fate to be the hero of the solitary20 amatory episode of his story, that for a moment he could not recall her. When the honest little figure that had so manfully stood up against him, and had proved her sex by afterwards running away from him, came back at last to his memory, he was at first mystified and then self-reproachful. He had been, he felt vaguely21, untrue to himself. He had been remiss22 to the self-confessed daughter of his enemy. Yet why should she telegraph to him, and what was she doing in Washington? To all these speculations23 it is to be said to his credit that he looked for no sentimental24 or romantic answer. Royal Thatcher was naturally modest and self-depreciating in his relations to the other sex, as indeed most men who are apt to be successful with women generally are, despite a vast degree of superannuated25 bosh to the contrary. To the half dozen women who are startled by sheer audacity26 into submission27 there are scores who are piqued28 by a self-respectful patience; and where a women has to do half the wooing, she generally makes a pretty sure thing of it.
In his bewilderment Thatcher had overlooked a letter lying on his table. It was from his Washington lawyer. The concluding paragraph caught his eye,—“Perhaps it would be well if you came here yourself. Roscommon is here; and they say there is a niece of Garcia's, lately appeared, who is likely to get up a strong social sympathy for the old Mexican. I don't know that they expect to prove anything by her; but I'm told she is attractive and clever, and has enlisted29 the sympathies of the delegation30.” Thatcher laid the letter down a little indignantly. Strong men are quite as liable as weak women are to sudden inconsistencies on any question they may have in common. What right had this poor little bud he had cherished,—he was quite satisfied now that he had cherished her, and really had suffered from her absence,—what right had she to suddenly blossom in the sunshine of power to be, perhaps, plucked and worn by one of his enemies? He did not agree with his lawyer that she was in any way connected with his enemies: he trusted to her masculine loyalty31 that far. But here was something vaguely dangerous to the feminine mind,—position, flattery, power. He was almost as firmly satisfied now that he had been wronged and neglected as he had been positive a few moments before that he had been remiss in his attention. The irritation32, although momentary33, was enough to decide this strong man. He telegraphed to San Francisco; and, having missed the steamer, secured an overland passage to Washington; thought better of it, and partly changed his mind an hour after the ticket was purchased; but, manlike, having once made a practical step in a wrong direction, he kept on rather than admit an inconsistency to himself. Yet he was not entirely34 satisfied that his journey was a business one. The impulsive35, weak little Mistress Carmen had prudently36 scored one against the strong man.
Only a small part of the present great trans-continental railway at this time had been built, and was but piers37 at either end of a desolate38 and wild expanse as yet unbridged. When the overland traveller left the rail at Reno, he left, as it were, civilization with it; and, until he reached the Nebraska frontier, the rest of his road was only the old emigrant39 trail traversed by the coaches of the Overland Company. Excepting a part of “Devil's Canyon,” the way was unpicturesque and flat; and the passage of the Rocky Mountains, far from suggesting the alleged40 poetry of that region, was only a reminder41 of those sterile42 distances of a level New England landscape.
The journey was a dreary43 monotony that was scarcely enlivened by its discomforts44, never amounting to actual accident or incident, but utterly45 destructive to all nervous tissue. Insanity46 often supervened. “On the third day out,” said Hank Monk47, driver, speaking casually49 but charitably of a “fare,”—“on the third day out, after axing no end of questions and getting no answers, he took to chewing straws that he picked outer the cushion, and kussin' to hisself. From that very day I knew it was all over with him, and I handed him over to his friends at 'Shy Ann,' strapped50 to the back seat, and ravin' and cussin' at Ben Holliday, the gent'manly proprietor51.” It is presumed that the unfortunate tourist's indignation was excited at the late Mr. Benjamin Holliday, then the proprietor of the line,—an evidence of his insanity that no one who knew that large-hearted, fastidious, and elegantly-cultured Californian, since allied52 to foreign nobility, will for a moment doubt.
Mr. Royal Thatcher was too old and experienced a mountaineer to do aught but accept patiently and cynically53 his brother Californian's method of increasing his profits. As it was generally understood that any one who came from California by that route had some dark design, the victim received little sympathy. Thatcher's equable temperament54 and indomitable will stood him in good stead, and helped him cheerfully in this emergency. He ate his scant55 meals, and otherwise took care of the functions of his weak human nature, when and where he could, without grumbling56, and at times earned even the praise of his driver by his ability to “rough it.” Which “roughing it,” by the way, meant the ability of the passengers to accept the incompetency57 of the Company. It is true there were times when he regretted that he had not taken the steamer; but then he reflected that he was one of a Vigilance Committee, sworn to hang that admirable man, the late Commodore Cornelius Vanderbilt, for certain practices and cruelties done upon the bodies of certain steerage passengers by his line, and for divers irregularities in their transportation. I mention this fact merely to show how so practical and stout58 a voyager as Thatcher might have confounded the perplexities attending the administration of a great steamship59 company with selfish greed and brutality60; and that he, with other Californians, may not have known the fact, since recorded by the Commodore's family clergyman, that the great millionaire was always true to the hymns61 of his childhood.
Nevertheless, Thatcher found time to be cheerful and helpful to his fellow passengers, and even to be so far interesting to “Yuba Bill,” the driver, as to have the box seat placed at his disposal. “But,” said Thatcher, in some concern, “the box seat was purchased by that other gentleman in Sacramento. He paid extra for it, and his name's on your way-bill!” “That,” said Yuba Bill, scornfully, “don't fetch me even ef he'd chartered the whole shebang. Look yar, do you reckon I'm goin' to spile my temper by setting next to a man with a game eye? And such an eye! Gewhillikins! Why, darn my skin, the other day when we war watering at Webster's, he got down and passed in front of the off-leader,—that yer pinto colt that's bin8 accustomed to injins, grizzlies62, and buffalo63, and I'm bless ef, when her eye tackled his, ef she didn't jist git up and rar round that I reckoned I'd hev to go down and take them blinders off from HER eyes and clap on HIS.” “But he paid the money, and is entitled to his seat,” persisted Thatcher. “Mebbe he is—in the office of the Kempeny,” growled64 Yuba Bill; “but it's time some folks knowed that out in the plains I run this yer team myself.”—A fact which was self-evident to most of the passengers. “I suppose his authority is as absolute on this dreary waste as a ship captain's in mid65 ocean,” exclaimed Thatcher to the baleful-eyed stranger. Mr. Wiles66—whom the reader has recognized—assented with the public side of his face, but looked vengeance67 at Yuba Bill with the other, while Thatcher, innocent of the presence of one of his worst enemies, placated68 Bill so far as to restore Wiles to his rights. Wiles thanked him. “Shall I have the pleasure of your company far?” Wiles asked insinuatingly69. “To Washington,” replied Thatcher frankly70. “Washington is a gay city during the session,” again suggested the stranger. “I'm going on business,” said Thatcher bluntly.
A trifling71 incident occurred at Pine-Tree Crossing which did not heighten Yuba Bill's admiration72 of the stranger. As Bill opened the double-locked box in the “boot” of the coach—sacred to Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express and the Overland Company's treasures—Mr. Wiles perceived a small, black morocco portemanteau among the parcels. “Ah, you carry baggage there too?” he said sweetly. “Not often,” responded Yuba Bill shortly. “Ah, this then contains valuables?” “It belongs to that man whose seat you've got,” said Yuba Bill, who, for insulting purposes of his own, preferred to establish the fiction that Wiles was an interloper; “and ef he reckons, in a sorter mixed kempeny like this, to lock up his portmantle, I don't know who's business it is. Who?” continued Bill, lashing73 himself into a simulated rage, “who, in blank, is running this yer team? Hey? Mebbe you think, sittin' up thar on the box seat, you are. Mebbe you think you kin48 see round corners with that thar eye, and kin pull up for teams round corners, on down grades, a mile ahead?” But here Thatcher, who, with something of Lancelot's concern for Modred, had a noble pity for all infirmities, interfered74 so sternly that Yuba Bill stopped.
On the fourth day they struck a blinding snow-storm, while ascending75 the dreary plateau that henceforward for six hundred miles was to be their roadbed. The horses, after floundering through the drift, gave out completely on reaching the next station, and the prospects76 ahead, to all but the experienced eye, looked doubtful. A few passengers advised taking to sledges77, others a postponement79 of the journey until the weather changed. Yuba Bill alone was for pressing forward as they were. “Two miles more and we're on the high grade, whar the wind is strong enough to blow you through the windy, and jist peart enough to pack away over them cliffs every inch of snow that falls. I'll jist skirmish round in and out o' them drifts on these four wheels whar ye can't drag one o' them flat-bottomed dry-goods boxes through a drift.” Bill had a California whip's contempt for a sledge78. But he was warmly seconded by Thatcher, who had the next best thing to experience, the instinct that taught him to read character, and take advantage of another man's experience. “Them that wants to stop kin do so,” said Bill authoritatively80, cutting the Gordian knot; “them as wants to take a sledge can do so,—thar's one in the barn. Them as wants to go on with me and the relay will come on.” Mr. Wiles selected the sledge and a driver, a few remained for the next stage, and Thatcher, with two others, decided81 to accompany Yuba Bill. These changes took up some valuable time; and the storm continuing, the stage was run under the shed, the passengers gathering82 around the station fire; and not until after midnight did Yuba Bill put in the relays. “I wish you a good journey,” said Wiles, as he drove from the shed as Bill entered. Bill vouchsafed83 no reply, but, addressing himself to the driver, said curtly84, as if giving an order for the delivery of goods, “Shove him out at Rawlings,” and passed contemptuously around to the tail board of the sled, and returned to the harnessing of his relay.
The moon came out and shone high as Yuba Bill once more took the reins85 in his hands. The wind, which instantly attacked them as they reached the level, seemed to make the driver's theory plausible86, and for half a mile the roadbed was swept clean, and frozen hard. Further on a tongue of snow, extending from a boulder87 to the right, reached across their path to the height of two or three feet. But Yuba Bill dashed through a part of it, and by skillful maneuvering88 circumvented89 the rest. But even as the obstacle was passed, the coach dropped with an ominous90 lurch91 on one side, and the off fore18 wheel flew off in the darkness. Bill threw the horses back on their haunches; but, before their momentum92 could be checked, the near hind93 wheel slipped away, the vehicle rocked violently, plunged94 backwards95 and forwards, and stopped.
Yuba Bill was on the road in an instant with his lantern. Then followed an outbreak of profanity which I regret, for artistic96 purposes, exceeds that generous limit which a sympathizing public has already extended to me in the explication of character. Let me state, therefore, that in a very few moments he succeeded in disparaging97 the characters of his employers, their male and female relatives, the coach builder, the station keeper, the road on which he travelled, and the travellers themselves, with occasional broad expletives addressed to himself and his own relatives. For the spirit of this and a more cultivated poetry of expression, I beg to refer the temperate98 reader to the 3d chapter of Job.
The passengers knew Bill, and sat, conservative, patient, and expectant. As yet the cause of the catastrophe99 was not known. At last Thatcher's voice came from the box seat:
“What's up, Bill?”
“Not a blank lynch pin in the whole blank coach,” was the answer.
There was a dead silence. Yuba Bill executed a wild war dance of helpless rage.
(I beg here to refer the fastidious and cultivated reader to the only adjective I have dared transcribe101 of this actual oath which I once had the honor of hearing. He will I trust not fail to recognize the old classic daemon in this wild western objurgation.)
“Who did it?” asked Thatcher.
Yuba Bill did not reply, but dashed up again to the box, unlocked the “boot,” and screamed out:
“The man that stole your portmantle,—Wiles!”
Thatcher laughed:
“Don't worry about that, Bill. A 'biled' shirt, an extra collar, and a few papers. Nothing more.”
Yuba Bill slowly descended102. When he reached the ground, he plucked Thatcher aside by his coat sleeve:
“Ye don't mean to say ye had nothing in that bag ye was trying to get away with?”
“No,” said the laughing Thatcher frankly.
“And that Wiles warn't one o' them detectives?”
“Not to my knowledge, certainly.”
Yuba Bill sighed sadly, and returned to assist in the replacing of the coach on its wheels again.
“Never mind, Bill,” said one of the passengers sympathizingly, “we'll catch that man Wiles at Rawlings sure;” and he looked around at the inchoate103 vigilance committee, already “rounding into form” about him.
“Ketch him!” returned Yuba Bill, derisively104, “why we've got to go back to the station; and afore we're off agin he's pinted fur Clarmont on the relay we lose. Ketch him! H-ll's full of such ketches!”
There was clearly nothing to do but to go back to the station to await the repairing of the coach. While this was being done Yuba Bill again drew Thatcher aside:
“I allers suspected that chap's game eye, but I didn't somehow allow for anything like this. I reckoned it was only the square thing to look arter things gen'rally, and 'specially105 your traps. So, to purvent troubil, and keep things about ekal, ez he was goin' away, I sorter lifted this yer bag of hiz outer the tail board of his sleigh. I don't know as it is any exchange or compensation, but it may give ye a chance to spot him agin, or him you. It strikes me as bein' far-minded and squar';” and with these words he deposited at the feet of the astounded106 Thatcher the black travelling bag of Mr. Wiles.
“But, Bill,—see here! I can't take this!” interrupted Thatcher hastily. “You can't swear that he's taken my bag,—and—and,—blank it all,—this won't do, you know. I've no right to this man's things, even if—”
“Hold your hosses,” said Bill gravely; “I ondertook to take charge o' your traps. I didn't—at least that d——d wall-eyed—Thar's a portmantle! I don't know who's it is. Take it.”
Half amused, half embarrassed, yet still protesting, Thatcher took the bag in his hands.
“Ye might open it in my presence,” suggested Yuba Bill gravely.
Thatcher, half laughingly, did so. It was full of papers and semi-legal-looking documents. Thatcher's own name on one of them caught his eye; he opened the paper hastily and perused107 it. The smile faded from his lips.
“Well,” said Yuba Bill, “suppose we call it a fair exchange at present.”
Thatcher was still examining the papers. Suddenly this cautious, strong-minded man looked up into Yuba Bill's waiting face, and said quietly, in the despicable slang of the epoch108 and region:
“It's a go! Suppose we do.”
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1
thatcher
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| n.茅屋匠 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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exasperating
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| adj. 激怒的 动词exasperate的现在分词形式 | |
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fickleness
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| n.易变；无常；浮躁；变化无常 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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pertinacious
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| adj.顽固的 | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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zealously
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| adv.热心地；热情地；积极地；狂热地 | |
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labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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ceramic
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| n.制陶业，陶器，陶瓷工艺 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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illuminating
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| a.富于启发性的，有助阐明的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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pittance
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| n.微薄的薪水，少量 | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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vaguely
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remiss
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| adj.不小心的，马虎 | |
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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piqued
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| v.伤害…的自尊心( pique的过去式和过去分词 )；激起（好奇心） | |
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enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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delegation
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| n.代表团；派遣 | |
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loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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prudently
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| adv. 谨慎地，慎重地 | |
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piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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reminder
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| n.提醒物，纪念品；暗示，提示 | |
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sterile
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| adj.不毛的，不孕的，无菌的，枯燥的，贫瘠的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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discomforts
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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cynically
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| adv.爱嘲笑地，冷笑地 | |
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temperament
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| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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incompetency
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| n.无能力，不适当 | |
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steamship
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| n.汽船，轮船 | |
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brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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62
grizzlies
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| 北美洲灰熊( grizzly的名词复数 ) | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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64
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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mid
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| adj.中央的，中间的 | |
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wiles
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| n.（旨在欺骗或吸引人的）诡计，花招；欺骗，欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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placated
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| v.安抚，抚慰，使平静( placate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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insinuatingly
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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lashing
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| n.鞭打；痛斥；大量；许多v.鞭打( lash的现在分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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sledges
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| n.雪橇，雪车( sledge的名词复数 )v.乘雪橇( sledge的第三人称单数 )；用雪橇运载 | |
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sledge
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| n.雪橇，大锤；v.用雪橇搬运，坐雪橇往 | |
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postponement
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| n.推迟 | |
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authoritatively
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| 命令式地，有权威地，可信地 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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maneuvering
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| v.移动，用策略( maneuver的现在分词 )；操纵 | |
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circumvented
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| v.设法克服或避免（某事物），回避( circumvent的过去式和过去分词 )；绕过，绕行，绕道旅行 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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momentum
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| n.动力，冲力，势头；动量 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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disparaging
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| adj.轻蔑的，毁谤的v.轻视( disparage的现在分词 )；贬低；批评；非难 | |
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98
temperate
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| adj.温和的，温带的，自我克制的，不过分的 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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100
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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101
transcribe
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| v.抄写，誉写；改编(乐曲)；复制，转录 | |
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102
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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103
inchoate
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| adj.才开始的，初期的 | |
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104
derisively
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| adv. 嘲笑地，嘲弄地 | |
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105
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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106
astounded
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| v.使震惊(astound的过去式和过去分词)；愕然；愕；惊讶 | |
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107
perused
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的过去式和过去分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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108
epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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