Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-12-16

The rough wooden shutters that shel- tered the one solitary window were rotting upon their hinges; the wind whistIed in shrill cadences through the crevices of the logs. As far as the eye could reach there was no vestige of any human habltalion, while the rustling of the leaves and the hungry howls of the wolves only broke the silence of the night. 1t was difficult to imagine this place to be the dwelling of any civilized being but yet it was tenanted by tHo men, who had lived in it for the he-i par. of a year. attended by negro lave, ali hontS! fellow, who served them as faithfully in that dreary retreat a. if they had dwel in a palace.
 The night had fallen; the winds shrieked, like some troubled spirit, amid the branches of the trees ; red streaks of light gt"aGHel through the cracks of the win.;Ow shutters and the crevices of tho rude timber cditice; the door of the hut is securely closed, though in that lonely region there is little need of bolt and bar.
 Let us peep into the neglected build 1 ing, and gaze unseen upon its occupants. The two meii arc seated on either side of a blazing fire Of brushwood and b;oken timber, while the negro sits oD a l low stool, at a respectful distance. waiting till his masters may havo need l of his services.
 His honest face beams with good tenn ] per and contentment, even in that dreary 1 abode.
 But it is not so with his masters. They are both smoking long cherry l stemmed meerschaum pipes, and they sit in silence. their eyes gloomily fixed upon the blazing fire. l It is impossible to judge of their rank l in life, for they are both dressed in cuta- | way velveteen coats, corduroy brooches and great hob-nail boots-serviceabl ble l garments suited to their rude life, but | which elsewhere would be worn only by l laborng men.
 l They are both in the prime of life, and one is rather handsome; but they have 1 allowed their hair and whiskers to grow in the toughest fashion, and their faces are bronzed by constant exposure to | every variety of weather. The elder of the two Is the first to speak,
 weariness, nearly a year has gone since we set foot in this dreary district and no good done yet"
 The younger man shrugged his shoul- ders as he removed his pipe from his mouth and knocked out the ashes of to- hacco upon the rough stone hearth.
 "1es, year, year." he muttered,
 
 justice being done to the innocent, and punishment and confusion brought upon the guilty"
 "Brown," said his companion, "do you remember our first mceting?"
 "Yes, we met in the streets of San Francisco; both penniless, yet both de- termined to conquer fortune, and to ring from the bowels of our mother earth the gold which should enable us to achieve ! the purposes of our lives"
 "You remember we formed a chance acquaintance, which afterward ripened into friendship"
 "It did," answered the other man. "But at the same time we entered into a singular agreement. We resolved that whatever our past history might be, it should remain buried in oblivion, so long as we dweit together in tho wilds ot California. We agreed that neith CT should tell his companion the secrets oi his life. or the purpose which he had to accomplish in the future; that even our names should be unknown to each other, and that though living together upon the footing of friends and brothers, we should address each other merely as Brown and Smith,
 | "Yes, this was our bond I've further resolved that VIC would spend the last dollars we possessed in tho purchase of a set of implements, and that we would penetrate into the lone Hest tract in the continent, into recesses never visited by the herd of gold dig. | gers. whose 1ahor5 exhaust the soil in 1 districts where tho precious ore has been found. We determined to searcf for our prize whore none had sought be- for. us, and we resolved tr brave every hardship, 70 endure every peril. for tht l SC, eral ends of our lives
 I've did"
 '.At San Francisco, we picked up oul