Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1878-04-10

1t was vast silence ofpines, redolent
with balsamic breath, and muffled with
the dry dust of dead bark and mat
ted MOSES. Lying on our backs, we
looked upward through hundred feet
of clear unbroken interval to the first
lateral branches that formed the fiat can
opy above us. Here and there the fierce
sun, from whose active persecution we
had Just escaped searched for us through
the woods, but its keen blade was dulled
and turned aside by intercostal bougbs,
and its brightness dissipated in nebulous
mists throughout the roofing Of the dim
brown aisles around US. We were in
another atmosphere, under another sky,
indeed in another world than the daz-
ceiling one we had just quilted. The
grave silence seemed so much part Of
the grateful GOODNESS that we hesitated
to speak, and for some moments lay
quietly outstretched on the pine tassels
where we had first thrown ourselves.
Finally voice broke the silence.
I" Ask the old major; he knows all
about itv
The person here alluded to, under
that military title, was myself. | hard
ly need to explain to any Californian
that it by no means followed that was
Il major" or that / was DID," or that
l knew anything about "it," or indeed
what I" it," referred to. The whole re-
mark was merely one Of the usual con-
ventional feelings to conversational
kind of social preamble, quite common
to our slangy camp intercourse. Never
theless, as l was always known as the
major, perhaps for no better reason than
that the speaker, an old Journalist, was
always called doctor, l recognized the
fact 80 far as to kick aside IN interven-
ing saddle so that could see the speak
er's face on level with my own. and
said nothing.
"About ghosts" said tho doctor, after
pause, which nobody broke or was
expected to break. "GhOsts sir
That's what we want to know. What
are we doing here in this blank old
mausoleum of Calaveras county-if
it isn't to find something about 'em,
ehY"
Nobody replied
"Thar's that haunted house at Cave
City. Can't be more than mile or two
away, anyhow. Used to he just off the
trail"
A dead silence.
The doctor, addressing space gener-
"Yes. sir; it mas II mighty queer
story"
Still the same reposeful Indifference.
We all knew the doctors skill as u ra-
cOuteur; we all knew that n story was
coming; and we all knew that any in
terruption would be fatal. Time and
time again, in our prospecting expert
ence, had Il word of polite encourage
ment, a rash expression of interest, even
II too eager attitude ofsilent expectancy,
brought the doctor to u sudden change
of subject; time and time again had we
seen the unwary stranger stand amazed
and bewildered between our indifference
and the sudden termination Of prom.
ising anecdote through his own unlucky
interference. SO we said nothing.
1.-The judge another instance of ar
bitrary nomenelature-pretended to
sleep. Jack began to twist cigdr7ito.
Thornton bit off the ends ofpine needles
reflectively.
Eyes, sir" continued the doctor, cool
ly, resting the back of his head on the
palms of his hands, it was rather curl
Gus. All except the murder. That's
what gets me, for the murder had no
new points, no fancy touches, no senti-
ment, no mystery. Was just one of the
old style 'sub-head paragraphs. Old
fashioned miner scrubs along on hard
tack and beans, and saves up Il little
money to go home and see relations
Old fashioned assassin sharpens up
knife, old style. loads old ilintlock, brass
mounted pistol; walks in an old fashion
ed miner one dark night, sends him
home to his relations away back to sew
eral generations, and walks off with the
swag. No mystery there; nothing to
clear up; subsequent revelations only
impertinence. Nothing for any ghost
to do-who meant business More than
that. over forty murders, same old kind,
committed every year in Calaveras, and
nosplritual post obits coming due every
anniversary; no assessments made on
the peace and quiet OF the surviving
community. tell you what, boys, I've
always been inclined to throw off on the
Cave City ghost for that alone. It's a
bad precedent, sir If that kind othing
is going to obtain in the Foot Hills,
we'll have the trails full of chaps former
ly knocked over by the MeXicans and
road agents; every little camp and gro
Gerry will have stock enough on hand to
so into business, and where's there any
security for surviving life and property
Ell? What's your opinion, Judge, as a
fair-minded legislator