The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1877-09-29

hate him mildly, when at one of those
Temperatures he drew up TO my side, and
asked me how / liked Dickens!
He asked my opinion of Huxley OF
Darwin, | could not have been more as
tonished. Thinking it were possible that
he referred to some local celebrity OF
Lagrange. said hesitatingly:
You menu
"Charles Dickens OF course YOU We
read him? Which of his books do you
like best?''
replied with considerable embarrass-
ment that | liked them alas certainly
[ did.
He grasped my hand for a moment
with fervor quite unlike the usual
phlegm, and SAID, That's me, old man.
Dickens amt no SLOUGH. You can count
on him pretty much all the time"
With this rough preface, he launched
into a criticism of the novelist, which
for intelligent sympathy and hearty APP
probation / had rarely heard equaled.
Not only did he dwell upon the exuber-
ance of his humor, but upon the power
of his pathos and the all-pervading ele-
ment of his poetry. ! looked at the
man in astonishment. had considered
myself rather diligent student of the
great master of fiction, but the stranger
felicity of quotation and illustration
staggered me. 1t is true that his
thought was not always clothed in the
best language, and often appeared in the
slouching, slangy undress of the place
and period, yet it never was rustic or
homespun, and sometimes struck me
with its precision and fitness. Consider
ably softened toward him, | tried him
with other literature. But vainly. Be-
yond few of the lyrical and emotional
poets, he knew nothing. Under the in
/ f1uence and enthusiasm Of his own
speech, he himself had softened consid-
erably; offered to change horses with
me, readjusted my saddle with profess
sional skill, transferred my pack to his
own horse, insisted upon my sharing the
contents of his whisky flask, and, no.
ticing that | was unarmed, pressed upon
me silver mounted derringer, which he
assured me he could warrant. These
various offices of good will and the
diversion of his talk beguiled me from
noticing the fact that the trail was be-
ginning to become obscure and unrecog-
nizable. We were evidently pursuing a
route unknown to me. | pointed out
the fact to my companion a little i'm
patiently. He instantly resumed his
old manner.
Well, | reckon one trails as good as
another, and what hev We got to say
about it9'
pointed out, with some dignity, that
| preferred the old trail
" Mebbee you did. But you're jiss
now taking pasear with me. This yer
trail will bring you right into Indian
Spring, and unnOticed, and no questions
asked. Don't you mind, now, Pll sec
you through"
1t was necessary here to make some
stand against my strange companion.
said firmly, yet as politely as l could
that | had proposed stopping over night
with friend.
Wharf"
| hesitated. The friend was an ac.
centric Eastern man, well known in the
locality for his fastidiousness and his
habits as a recluse. A misanthrope OF
ample family and ample means, he had
chosen a secluded but picturesque valley
in the Sierras, where he could raj
against the world without opposition
I" Lone Valley" or Boston Ranch" a,
1t was more Familiarity called, was the
one spot that the average miner both
respected and feared. Mr.. Sylvester, its
proprietor, had never affiliated with the
! boys" nor had he ever lost their respect
by any active opposition to their ideas.
If seclusion had been his object he Ger.
tainly was gratAied. Nevertheless, in the
darkening shadows of the night, and
on lonely and unknown trail, | hesitat
ed little at repeating his name to &
stranger of whom | knew so little. But
my mysterious companion took the mat.
ter out of my hands.
Look yar," he said, suddenly, +" THAI
amt but one place twixt yer and Indian
Spring whar ye can stop, and that's Syl
: vester's"
assented, a little sullenly.
" Well, said the stranger, quietly, and
with slight suggestion of comforting {
favor on me, Eff you're pointed fol
Sylvester WHY don't mind stopping
thar with We. It's a little off the road
FL lose some time-but takit by ant
large | don't much mind"
| stated, as rapidly and strongly as
could, that my acquaintance with Mr.
Sylvester did not justify the introduction
of stranger to his hospitality-that hi
was unlike most of the people here-ir
short, that he was a queer man, ETC., etc
To my surprise my companion answer
ed quietly: 80, that's all right. Pv,
heerd of him. Eff you don't feel lik,
, checking me through, or if you'd rather
put c. 0. d. on my back, Why it's al
the same to ne. I'll play it alone
Only you just count me in. Say Syl
vester' all the time That's mep
What could | oppose 10 this man
quiet assurance? | felt myself growing
: red with anger and nervous with embar
rassment. What would the correct Syl
vester say to me? What would the girl
i was Il young man then, and won al
entree to their domestic circle by my re
serve-known by less complimentary,
adjective among the I" boys"-wha
would they say to my new acquaintance
Yet | certainly could not object to his as
Stunning all risk on his own persona
) recognizance, nor could | resist certain
feeling of shame at my embarrassment.
We were beginning to descend. Ii
the distance below us already twinket
the lights in the solitary rancho of Lon,
Valley / turned to my companion
" But you have forgotten that | dom
even know your name. What am | t.
call you?"
"Thar's sc" he said musingly. "Now
let's see. Kearney' would be gooC
name It's short and easy like. Thar
street in Frisco the same title
/ L 4 - -