The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1891-08-14

BOULDER, Colo, June 2A-The "lost vein"
has been found. 1t consists of a 6-inch streak
Of almost solid silver. glance and brittle silver,
estimated to run from $1,000 to $4,000 in value
per ton. 1t was found by Fred Albright and
Winslow Carlisle, and undoubtedly is the ia
nous "lost vein." For twenty years prospect
ors have searched for this vein, and thousands
of dollars have been spent in the quest.
That is the plain news statement OF
fact, but back of it range the incidents
of one of the most pathetic love stories
ever written. Some time, when That
state of marvels shall produce its poet
or its scribe, the tale of the "lost vein"
will be embalmed in song or story that
shall captivate all ears.
Amos Albright went to Denver in the
eos, and left his wife and boys on the
farm in Illinois. He knew nothing Of
mining, but found himself after all as
well equipped as hundreds of others
who had dared the mountains, and
tempted fate right at the margin Of eter-
nal SHOWS. There was no such town as
Boulder at that time, and he drifted with
the rest of the fortune hunters into the
whirl at Denver. 1t was then a mining
camp more than city, and there were
twice as many tents as solid buildings in
the town. There were three drinking
places to one store, and gambling places
were out of all proportion to hotels. But
Amos was a sensible fellow and saved at
least part of his money.
But the air of the mountains was try
ing on the lungs of the men from Illinois,
and Amos Albright found his vigor fail
ing. The first symptoms of decay was
weakness and lassitude that would have
seemed like ague only that there was no
aching and no fever. And here, when
he first needed help, he found it refused
him. He had lost his nerve, they said,
and that was the one objectionable sin
Of mining town. AS long as a man
could smile and swear and drink little
he could call friends about him and
could get assistance in the furthering of
any scheme. As soon as he came with
faltering hand and dimming eye they
passed him impatiently. They 'hated
to see man weaken"
Albright thought of the woman at
home, Of the boys who needed him and
the creditors who were troubling. He
mourned for the chances he had passed
disdainfully when he was stronger. He
crept to the postofice after the rush was
over and wonderingly waited to see if
the weekly stage had brought him let
ter. 1t did, and the letter told of the
darkening troubles at his home. The
crops had failed, the season was bad, the
rush of the war period had made money
more valuable, and George Carlisle de-
manded a return of his loan. "He
threatens to foreclose and turn us off the
place." wrote Mrs. Albright. "He says
worse things than that to me. am do
ing the best can for you and the boys
but it does seem dark ahead. Maybe it
would be better if you were here, even
if you did not bring much money"
That letter ground in Amos Albright's
heart He knew what the "worse things"
were. He knew George Carlisle, and
knew that man had been a sutton for
Mary's hand before she married. He
Knew the fellow, spite of marriage, was
so characterless as to still pursue with
attentions the woman who had welded
Albright. But Carlisle was rich, and
there had seemed no better way than
borrow the money from him. Now that
war had broken out he felt the rush of
feeling which led men into the ranks,
and he believed his wife would be more
carefully guarded by the loyal friends if
he were absent in the army than if he
were here gold hunting in the Rockies.
If he only had the money!
He brooded over it and worried and
hoped and planned till he became a
ghostly creature, Stunned by his fellows
and out of place in the town. He could
get no backing, no 'stake." No one had
confidence in him when the appeal came
so tremblingly. He sold half of his kit
to tenderfoot, bought grub enough to
last him week, and worked slowly out
of the city to the north. AS he passed
out of town he met train of new ar
rivals and they shouted to him the news
of a victory at Gettysburg. He knew
where that was, though he had not been
following very closely the movements of
the armies in these years when history
was making. He knew where it was,
for he was born there. There he grew
to manhood. There he met Mary. There
he married her. There he fought George
Carlisle and vanquished him.
From there both he and later the Car
isles had come to Illinois. He knew the
peaceful little Pennsylvania town, and
realized how sore the danger was when
rebel armies dared blacken the fair
fields of that free state. And that con-
sciousness-spite of the fact that his was
victory-brought him back again to
his own trouble. 1t would only make
the fortunes Of debtors harder. George
Carlisle would take the general cry for
his own excuse to prosecute Mary. 1t
spurred him afresh, and he toiled all
through the hot July day, far into the
cold July night, past hundred camps
where wealth was pouring into waiting
hands, or where want was chasing des-
peration over haggard faces He slept
in little cleft in the rocks where some
grass had deigned to grow and where
tthe chill wind was parity broken from
him. He rose in the morning with a
consciousness that MS lungs were rail-
ing, and he could not struggle on much
longer. How be prayed for fortune!
Next day he came to the rugged hills
beyond the timber line, beyond the
camps, up in the mountains where min.
ing seemed impossible. He turned
from the trail and tried to find unbroken,
undiscovered ground. He found it and
began prospecting. Nothing but disap-
pointment awaited him for days. He
was growing weaker every hour. The
PICK was almost too heavy to lift. The
food was gone, and he knew starvation
or retreat was right before him. He
had worked in a cleft between the
powders nearly all day, and was sitting
just at shutdown on heap of drift at the
base of giant rock. He was terribly
tired and hungry. de was growing
cold. He thought with a pang that was
bitterer than death of the unsheltered
heads back there on the prairie, and
turned with groan of surrender over
on his face to die
What was that2 Silverl Not quartz,
not glance, but virgin ore. 1t lay like
q ray Of glory across the dull escarp-
ment. It was broad as his hand in the
middle, and dwindled away in wavering
lines yard In length. The man sat up
and stared at it. He felt rich blood
rushing through his veins There was
the strength of health in his arms. The
pick was q tov--a nlaything, He grudged