The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-09-19
"a man Who'd rob my letter bores ID lie
about his oirn father"

about his olcn father"
Half way between Snowflake City and
Holbrook, in spur of the Mogollon
mountains, lies the m;ning settlement of
Redrock Springs. Redrock makes no
pretensions to architectural beauty, but
it is on record that some of the richest
quartz has been dug out there that has
ever been known this side of the Juniper
mountains, which lie due west, probably
a good two hundred miles. The creek
itself is small affair-a mere tributary
of the Little Colorado river, which flows
along the northeastern base of the Mo-
gollon mountains till it is lost in the vast
volume of the Colorado at the foot of the
great wooded range near Willow Spring.
Practically isolated from the rest of
mankind, Redrock has to fall back upon
its own recources for social and other
recreation after sunset the miners hour
for throwing aside his tools and making
tracks for the cabin or the more congenial
hotel bar. There is no dusk to speak of.
At one moment you have the sun, Shin
ing bright and warm. along the sides of
the valley; the next he has slidden over
the Mogollon range and out of sight,
and the denizens of Redrock know it is
time for supper.
The general rendezvous is the "par-
lors" of Maj. Jonas Blacks hotel-a
structure that combines peculiar natural
advantages with those afforded by art.
1t stands sheer up against limestone
cliff, which forms its northern wall; and
it has also floor of the same cheap and
enduring material. On three sides it is
frame structure. substantial enough to
defy alike the blasts of winter (some-
times pretty severe at Redrock) and the
hot winds of summer.
The two mile expanse of valley Is
veritable flower garden-an oasis amid
the white peaked hills, whose picturesque
silence has not yet been invaded by the
smoke and din of the locomotive, or by
anything noisier than the quartz mill and
the rattle of the teamsters, as they drive
their wiry little horses along the single
path that leads from the settlement
proper to the Shaggy Peak mine, which
lies further up the valley.
Supper was over, and the miners had
begun to gather at the majors. Here the
elite of the Springs held nightly sympo-
SUM and discussed the prospects of the
Peak and the latest news received by the
mail. There were two ameliorative in
fiuences for which Redrock might be
fairly said to hunger: The refining pres
ence of female cook at the majors
20 no1l tn COY va tla,,,
cies Of the coolie who now served in that
important capacity, and the advent of a
semi-weekly mail from Snowflake City
or Fort Defiance.
Jack Browning, one of the latest COM
ers, sat smoking with his chum, Fred
Lispenard, in a corner of the parlors,
watching the players at the two tables,
who were somewhat boisterous in their
comments as the game proceeded. There
was no disorder, however. The major,
an easy going, somewhat corpulent man
of SO, with an eye that was at once seri-
GUS and full of jocose humor, was a cap
ital host, and knew just how far to let
the boys have their way. Presently he
came over to where Browning and his
friend sat, and. turning up box on end,
squatted beside them.
"D'ye hear that yer old mate, Cren-
shaw, left here this morning? No? Well,
he did; an he cum pretty nigh not git
tin away at ALL"
"How was that, major?" asked Brown
ing, suddenly wheeling about.
81 told ye, didn't I, that the boys here
wouldn't allow no foolin'. Well, yer see,
Crenshaw had bin takin' liberties with
other folks fixin's an he got notice ter
quit-an' he did. That's ALL"
''Was it the mail again, maior?" put
In Lispenard.
SIT wuz," solemnly averred the host.
"An' it wuz an aggravated case as re-
quired pretty considerable stiff measures.
The boys-some on 'em, at least-reck-
oned as how short rope wouldn't a.
come amiss; but Jonas Black amt a
goin' ter lead no lynchin' bees in this
creek, unless he can't help himself. Yer
see, Crenshaw had been mussin' and
fussin' 'roun' my mail boxes so long that
! begun ter be O bit suspicious; an last
evenin'-maybe 1t were about 10-Cy
Whipple, the mine superintendent.
caught him redhanded. Crenshaw was
smart huff ter see he was in a box an
he tried ter laff it off; but it wouldn't go
down with Cy. When he come on that
cur with envelup dated Boise City, or
leastwise stamped, he knowed he'd been
up to his tricks that we've been sus-
pectin' fer some time back. Crenshaw
never forgot you fer the turn you gave
him when you caught him here Sunday
mornin' two weeks ago, an when he al
lowed he was after drink. I'm dead
positive. he got some mail that time,
although didn't hear no complaints in
partic'ler."
Hes just the sort of fellow to nurse
grudges and he's better away, "interposed
Lispenard.
"Pshaw!" observed Browning, careless
ly, tossing away the stump of his cigar.
"What if he did? can't imagine how