Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1914-08-21
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r1or InaI To "a
Evidently his flight had led to the
place where his arms had been hid, for
he wore the regulation knife-bayonet
at his hip and around his hat was the
red ribbon OF his people. but Bud was
too polite to ask him about his jour
ney. Since his coming the Yaqui had
always maintained a certain mystery,
and now, though his eyes we're big
with portent and he smiled at the jests
about his gun, he simply waved his
hand to the south and east and MUIR
INJURED:
"Muchos revoltosos!"
"Seguro;" answered Bud jokingly;
"but have you killed any?"
mot yeti" returned the Indian, and
he did not smile at that.
II wonder what that Indian is wait
ing around here for?" remarked Phil in
English. HE must have his eye on
somebody"
Yeah, I bet" agreed Bud, regard
ing his savage friend with a specula-
tive interest. Most of them Yaqui
soldiers was farmhands in this
try before they rounded them up. |
reckon he's looking for the man that
had him deported.
Tired. Amigo?" he inquired in
Spanish, and Ignacio gravely acknowl-
edged that he was, a little.
"Then drink plenty coffee" went on
Hooker. Eat lots-tomorrow we go
to work in the mine"
Tomorrow" repeated the Indian.
as If considering his other engage
ments; "goodl" He nodded q smiling
assent.
After a month and more of id1eness
Bud and Amigo performed ~prodigies
Of labor in the cut, rolling down
boulders, lifting them up On the tram,
and clearing away the face of the cliff.
Their tram was ramshackle. their
track the abandoned rails from older
workings, and their tools little more
than their hands. but by DON the last
broken fragments were heaved aside
and the shattered ledge revealed.
A low cry of wonder escaped the
Yaqui as he gazed at the rich vein Of
ore, and as he saw the grim smile ON
Buds rugged c~ountenance he showed
his white teeth in sympathy.
"Que buenol" he murmured. How
good!" gathering the precious frag-
ments in his handkerchief.
At the camp they crushed the
picked ore in a mortar and PANIED it
in the creek, and for the moment De
Lancey dropped his air of preoccu-
pancy as he stared at the streak of
pure gold. Like a yellow film 1t lay
along the edge of the last fine tailings.
and when skilful washing had left it
bare, it cleaned like a jewel in the
pan.
by Jove, Bud!" he cried, that's the
real stuff-and it goes a dollar to the
pan easy!"
Sure thingl" assented Bud. Lets
pound a lot of it and wash it as we go
then we'll have some getaway money
when things break loose here!"
"Pn go youi" answered Phil, and
Buds heart warmed toward him as he
watched him pound up a piece or ore
and go to swirling the dirt in the
pan.
But alas for the fond hopes he cher
ishedi Even as he washed out the
gold Phil's mind wandered far away
back to the hotel where Gracia Ara,
gon sat watching by the window.
Her hair was the color of gold, spun
fine and refined again; yes. 1t was
worth more than this golden dross
that he caught in the bottom of his
pan. And what vas gold If he could
not have herr
He paused in his labor and a dreamy
smile parted his lips-then he broke
into a song:
Sweet honey bee, be sweet to me.
My heart is free. but here's the key;
Lock up the garden gate; honey o
know I'll wait.
Under the rambler rose tree-ee.
Once nor he returned to his work,
humming now the dulcet strains of
THE Merry Widow" and when Bud
came back from the cut 1t was to hear
a coon song:
Cos l want yer. me honey, yes, I want
yer. want yer;
Cos l want yer, ma honey. yes / dol
So he labored and sang, until finally
the labor ceased, and then the song.
He went about other things, and other
thoughts, not so cheerful, filed his
mind.
Bud returned sadly to the company
of the Yaqui and gave 1t up. Perhaps
his pardner had been right when, rid
ing out of Aqua Negra, he had en-
larged upon the dangers of Old Mex
leo, the land of manana and broken
promises" Certainly his speech had
been prophetic in regard to dark-eyed
women; for, even as he had said,
nothing seemed to please them better