The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1880-04-01

And now you cannot see my tears,
And now you cannot hear my cry,
"A month ago? Nay. years and years
Have aged my heart since that goo1-by.
Atlantic Monthly.
JACK CAvENDISH.
1t was the oath of December. 1 was
standing in the recess of q narrow
street in Los Angeles, gazing idly at
the passers-by. Across the way some
Chinese labOrers were propping an
adobe wall which the early rains had
sprung. A group of Mexicans were
looking On-great, stalwart. comfort
able fellows, chatting in lazy, musical
Spanish. Two or three lustrous-eyed
children passed me on the pavement,
clasping clusters of English violets out
aide their black serapes.
was conscious of q vague home
sickness, suggestive of discoungement;
a sense of strangeness in my own land;
l began to think my errand in Califor-
MIA hopeless ono. The matter had
seemed simple enough as the senior
member of the firm had stated it to me
in New York.
Il want you to go West" he had
said, land find John Bunyan Caven-
dish; his brother is dead and has left
him a fortune. Draw on me for neces-
sary funds, and don't fail TO find your
man." and with that he had dismissed
both the case and me.
had set out upon my mission with q
lively sense of enjoyment. In addition
to the novelty of fishing with such
tempting bait, there was the agreeable
sense of being the bearer of good news.
Whoever and wherever John Bunyan
Cavendish might be, he was likely al
ways to regard me as in some way his
benefactor; view of the matter which
Twas not inclined to despise. More
than this, the field of my investigations
was peculiarly attractive and pictur-
esque, and altogether was disposed to
consider myself fortunate individual.
1say the matter seemed simple enough,
and yet, after several months of patient
search and interrogation, had failed to
learn anything whatever concerning the
missing man. l had visited countless
mining camps and Observation-Disclosures
able grizzly pioneers, with the same
discouraging result. Once indeed l
had got upon the track of a Cavendish,
who, after leading me will-o' -the-wisp
journey of two hundred miles, proved
to be a debilitated New York divine in
search of health.
Gradually my zeal had disappeared.
There had come to be a painful monot-
ony in paying for advertisements which
brought no response; indeed, l had gone
so far as to indulge the reflection that
in carrying about with me a letter from
my deceased client to his kinsman, l was
the bearer of tidings from one disem-
bodied spirit to another, a reflection
which it will be readily admitted was
not enlivening. And yet could find no
proof that the man was dead. Of his
early life had ample information, but
later than that knew little save that
he had started for California suddenly
and alone, during the early gold excite
ment. and had not been heard from
since. A thousand possibilities were in
the long, tedious journey and interven-
ing years. possibilities which magnihed
themselves into unconquerable facts.
and made me impatient to go back to
something more tangible and satisfac-
tory than chasing the whim of dead
miser.
Difficulties that don't yield to such
sunlight as this are entitled to respect"
l said to myself, and turning with a
half resolution to give up the pursuit, l
found myself face to face with man
who had evidently been sharing my niche
for some time unObserved. He was by
no means an attractive personage; a
shabby, homely-built figure, leaning
against the doorway in an attitude OF
habitual idleness, and gazing up and
down the street as vacantly as myself.
just as l became aware of his appear
ance, he took step forward and laid
his hand rather unsteadily upon the
arm OF stout, elderly gentleman, hur-
rying by.
You're just the man I'm looking
for, Governor" heard him say, draw.
ing his victim into the entry; ':iust the
man, and no mistake"
"Is that so, Uncle Jack? It's too bad.
I'm in a tremendous hurry this MORN
ing. Wouldn't another time do just as
well?"
"No, SIR" said his prosecutor, SOL
EMMY, balancing himself by the lappels
of his companions coat, looking him
confidingly in the eye. mo, sir, times
money, Governor Time is money!" he
repeated with leisurely emphasis; "an'
a man in my position can't afford to
watt
"Well, Uncle jack" returned the
other, resignedly, ':what is it now?''
"It's just this, Governor" lowering
his voice to a berry, confidential whis-
per, "it's just sislply and solely this:
that I've struck it at last; stuck it
rich, and you're lucky man,
Indeed! Well, now, I'm greatly
obliged to You, uncle; I've no doubt
it's big thing; can't you drop into the
office and talk it over by and by?''
"No, SIR" replied his tormentor,
promptly, Tightening his grasp and
crushing the tube-rose in his compan-
ions button-hole until it sent its divine
fragrance toward me; "no. sir, I don't
do nothing O. that kind, an you don't
crawfish out o. this thing in no such
style, Governor. I've had my eye on
you, and the minute struck this lead,
says 1 to myself: There amt none O.
my old pards that I'd rather set up in
business than old Governor Digby;'
that's what l said, and you know what
it means when Uncle Jack sets down on
anything"
Evidently the Governor knew.
You'll want to put about ten thou
sand into the concern, and in six weeks
time you won't speak to your own rela-
tions. How does that strike YOU. INV
boyg"
II must say it sounds well. Where
is the claim, did you say?"
The embryo bonanza king relaxed his
hold upon his companions coat and fell
back against the wall with folded arms
and an air of compassionate but un-
yielding dignity.
"Wkere is that claim, did UNDER
stand you to say. Governor Digbya
Well, sir, that claim, Governor, Il be-
tween the Lord an mer'