The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1909-12-28
When the Double Comes
BY r. c. PITzER.
a TEMPERANCE TALE.

In the spruces the wind Kissed in
termittently; the day was dark and
damp, white cloud befogged the
mountain and isolated the log cabin
on its knoll until it was afioat in a
swirling mist. But too little light
sifted into the low, smoke-stained
room through its one narrow window;
the door was tight shut and the air
Slightly tinged with blue smoke A
cracking blaze jumped in the fire.
place, throwing dancing shadows and
red lights over the chromos and pho
tographs, the furs, horns and hides,
and implements of work and the
chase that were hung and tackled
upon the logs. Jorkin sat in a rocker
made of Embarked pine saplings, a
cracker-box table beside him, where
he shufled greasy cards and played
solitaire through the dreary hours.
A big, heavy man was Jorkin, with
the neck of bull and a gorilla chest
so deep it seemed almost deformity.
His broad hands were cracked and
brown, his face was blowsed to rusty
iron, and, framed in his blond beard
and tangled yellow hair, it glared out
with red menace. Blue eyes could
not dispel the mistrust his threaten
ing face usually created among his
fellows; wherefore Jorkin for the
most part lived alone, prospecting
the hills far and wide in the summer.
trapping and hunting in the winter.
and yearly sinking by slow stages a
shaft deeper into the heart of his
mountain.
Jorkin had played for hours; he
still played, with knit brows and COM
pressed lips, intent on the cards. His
was hard game to beat; "Old Sol"|
constantly had the best OF it. but
Jorkin was stubborn. Once started.
a something superstitious that Iurked
at the back of his head kept i'm his
mind the dim idea that much depend
ed upon his winning; If he won he
would Je lucky in some material
way; IL he lost-lost constantly
there would be something else to
lose. He gave no thought as to what
he had to lose; there was the mine,
to be sure, but that was his past dis
pute, and no one could get it. 1t
would bring him a living until he
died. There was nothing else to lose
but himself, and he was fit and forty.
Twenty years hence would be time to
think of that if, in the meantime. he
were left alone. To live with-what
he had been living with, was perhaps
too much for fate to ask of any man.
Despite his rudy complexion, his
giant frame, there was something un-
wholesome about Jorkin that day; he
was under the weather" as he
would have phrased it. His blue eyes
were not clear, rather, a CLASSY film
was over them, and though indeed he
had no nerves to trouble him. his
tense attitude would have given the
impression that his will-power alone
restrained burst of hysterical emo
ton. Causeless one would have fan
cied it to be; for Jorkin had little TO
worry him, few hours of shame. or
sorrow or degradation TO remember.
and certainly after his long years of
lonely mountain life the solitude
could not have affected him. Paus-
Ing in his game. he sank into a rev.
erie, staring at the far wall with un-
seeing eyes; then interest flashed into
his face. and he looked and laughed
Laughed at nothing; not at his
thoughts, surely. for he was n slow
and languid thinker. like most folk
or the open. Nevertheless. he
laughed; and in a few moments
looked and laughed again.
Neither was it amusing. the moth
Ing that Jorkin saw; only, at the far
end of the cabin. seated " rlde
rocker by rude table. $3.50 1er
Jorkin playing solitaire. Nnu made
faces at him when Jorkin looked. The
hallucinatiOn vanished. and the pros-
pector, little wondering, resumed his
game. The red and black dots OF the
cards hyDnotically flashed before his
eyes
From somewhere down the Hill
slope man hallooed. but tne hermit
neither started nor moved A knock
came upon the door, and Jorkin
looked up. Come" he called. not
rising
The man who entered. drippinp
and chilled, was as big and brawuv
as Jorkin was. but dark. with
pleasant face. He nodded and bur-
ried to the fire.
chilled to the bone, pardner." he
said may / graft some of your heat2
Nasty storm, huh?"
From Alameda?" Jorkin asked.
as he picked MP his cards and BEGAN
shuifling.
No. Black Valley Going over TO
Alameda. hear that Rounce has
started the Gypsy Girl lode. want
to run one Of his drills. Used to be n
shift-boss over on his Fryingpan prop.
erty. Went down and out last winter
All fit now Names Mulvoney.g Hav-
ing given an account of himself. he
waited for reciprocal information.
Zone came. Jorkin resumed his in-
HfIfT