The Young Miner; Or, Tom Nelson in California Read online

  CHAPTER IX.

  CLEANED OUT.

  John Miles slept long, and awoke feeling refreshed and cheerful. He hada healthy organization, and never failed to eat and sleep well. LikeCrane, he had no toilet to make, but sprang to his feet already dressed.

  His first thought was naturally of his treasure. His heart gave a quickbound when he failed to discover it in the place where he remembered tohave put it. In dismay he instituted a search, which, of course, provedunavailing.

  "Who could have taken it?" thought Miles, large drops of perspirationgathering upon his forehead.

  All about him was loneliness. He could see no signs of life. Yet the bagcould not have gone away of itself. There was certainly human agency inthe matter.

  Miles confessed to himself with sadness that he had been imprudent toleave the bag where it would naturally excite the cupidity of anypassing adventurer. That it must have been taken by such a one seemedevident. In that case, the chance of recovering it seemed slenderenough. Nevertheless, John Miles decided to make an effort, hopeless asit was, to discover the whereabouts of his lost property.

  "If it had been mine, I wouldn't have cared so much," he said tohimself, with a sigh; "but poor Tom's money is gone too. I will make itup to him if I live, but I am afraid his father will be inconveniencedby the delay."

  Miles made preparations for his departure, and strode away, lookingsearchingly to the right and left in search of something that mightthrow light upon his loss. Presently he espied the two Chinamen. Couldthey have taken it? He would at any rate speak to them.

  "Good-morning, John," he said, when he came within hearing distance.

  Ah Sin bobbed his head, and repeated "Good-morning, John."

  "Do you live here?"

  "Yes, we washee-washee for gold."

  "Does anyone else live near by?"

  The two inclined their heads, and answered in the negative.

  "Have you seen anyone pass last night or this morning?"

  "Yes," answered Ah Sin. "'Melican man stay all nightee--over there.Chinaman give him a cup of tea this morning."

  "How long ago?" asked Miles, eagerly.

  "Two hours," answered Ah Jim.

  "In what direction did he go?"

  The two Chinamen readily told him.

  Miles decided to tell them of the loss of his bag of gold-dust. Possiblythey could throw some light upon his loss.

  "Some one stole a small bag of dust from me last night," he said. "Isuspect it was the man you describe. Did he appear to have any sucharticle with him?"

  "Yes," answered Ah Sin, who, with natural cunning, saw that thisinformation would divert suspicion from them. "It was so large,"indicating the size with his hands.

  Of course his description was accurate, for he had very good reason toknow the size of the bag.

  "He must have been the thief," said Miles, eagerly. "In what directiondid you say he went?"

  Ah Sin pointed to the west.

  "I will follow him. It is on my way. If I catch the villain, it will bethe worse for him."

  "He velly bad man," said Ah Sin, sympathizingly.

  "That's where you are right, my heathen friend. Well, good-morning,John. I am much obliged to you for your information."

  "Velly welcome, John."

  As John Miles rode away, Ah Sin turned to his friend Ah Jim, andremarked,--

  "S'pose he catch him, he kill him."

  "All lightee!" returned Ah Jim. "He velly bad man, he thief."

  The two Chinamen exchanged glances. If they had been white men, therewould have been a smile or a wink, but these children of Confuciuslooked so serenely virtuous, so innocent of guile, that the mostexperienced detective would have seen nothing in their faces indicatingany guilty knowledge of the lost treasure. But, guileless as theyseemed, they had proved more than a match for Bill Crane and his victim.

  * * * * *

  John Miles rode away with a faint hope that he might overtake the man,whoever he might be, who had stolen his precious bag. In due time hereached the spot where Crane had examined the bag, and on discoveringits worthless contents, had thrown it away. The thief had not taken thetrouble to empty it.

  When Miles saw it he hurried to it, hoping he might find some of thetreasure inside. Of course he was disappointed, and at the same timebewildered.

  "This is certainly my bag," he said to himself. "Here are my initials,J. M. Then there are other marks well known to me. I could swear to itanywhere. But how does it happen that it is full of sand, and why hasthe thief thrown it away? That beats me!"

  Miles decided that for some reason unknown the thief had transferred itscontents to some other bag--perhaps his own--and then had discarded theoriginal one, in wanton humor filling it instead with sand.

  "He may have been afraid it would be found on him," thought Miles. "Themarks on the bag would have been evidence enough to condemn him. Bythrowing away my bag he thinks himself safe."

  His solution of the puzzle was ingenious, but as we know he erred in tworespects. Bill Crane had not filled the bag with sand and thrown it awayfrom prudential considerations, nor had he profited by the theft he hadcommitted. He had been as badly outwitted as his victim, and the profithad gone to the bland and obliging Chinamen, who had thus far escapedsuspicion.

  John Miles slackened his rein, and thought seriously and sadly of theposition to which he was reduced. What was he to do? He was, in theexpressive language of the country, "cleaned out," and brought to a passwhere he must begin life over again, with the disadvantage of beingseventy-five dollars in debt, for he was resolved that Tom's loss shouldbe paid back to the uttermost penny.

  Presently philosophy came to his aid.

  "It might have been worse," he reflected. "Two hundred dollars is toolarge a sum to lose, but it wont take long to make up if I have any sortof luck. I wish I were in San Francisco. It may trouble me to get therewithout means."

  When misfortune comes it is always best to look it manfully in the face,and not to shrink from or over estimate it. John Miles had a strong,healthy nature, with a good deal of confidence in his own resources, andin an hour or two he was again looking hopefully forward to the future.Not that he cherished a hope of recovering his lost money. There seemedto be no way of identifying it, even if he should track the thief. Oneounce of gold-dust looks like another, and there is no way ofdistinguishing individual property in that form.

  John Miles pushed on slowly. About noon he found himself threading anarrow canon, shaded by gigantic redwood tress, with steep, almostperpendicular sides, with here and there a narrow streamlet descendingin a cascade, and lighting up the darkened scene with its silveryreflections.

  "This is a pretty spot, but it would be lonely to live here," thoughtMiles. "Yet," shading his eyes, "there seems to be a cabin of some sort.Is it possible that anybody lives in this canon?"

  Ten minutes' ride brought him to a rude cabin, with a gigantic treespreading at a great height protecting branches over it. That it wasinhabited was clear, for in front of it stood a strongly built, robustwoman, who seemed to be nearing forty.

  She bent a searching look upon the intruder, who bent his headcourteously.

  "Good-morning, ma'am," said Miles.

  "Good-morning, stranger," was the reply. "Where might you be going?"

  "I am on my way to the city. Am I on the right track?"

  "I reckon so."

  "Do you live here--alone?" asked John Miles, in some curiosity.

  "It looks like it, doesn't it?" returned the woman. "I've been alonesince my man pegged out."

  "Is that long?"

  "A matter of three weeks."

  "I sympathize with you," said Miles. "You must be very lonely."

  "Yes," said the widow. "Jim was good company, and I feel kind oflonesome without him, you better believe."

  "There isn't much sentiment there," thought Miles. "She doesn't appearto be heart-broken. Do you mean to stay here alone?" he inquired. "Arey
ou not afraid?"

  "What's there to be afraid of?"

  "Some tramp or adventurer might attack and injure, or at least rob you."

  "Look here, stranger! do you see that?" and the woman produced arevolver. "Do you see that shooting-iron?"

  "It looks as if it might be a good one," said Miles, who began to thinkthe woman better able to take care of herself than he had at firstsupposed.

  "You bet it is! I know how to use it, too. If one of them tramps gets infront of it, and sasses me, he'd better say his prayers mighty quick,for he'll need 'em. He needn't reckon much on my being a woman. I canshoot jest as true as my man could when he was alive."