The silver state. [volume] (Winnemucca, Nev.) 1909-1925, 1915-05-29

feathered occupant as n~eglected-look.
ing and cherries as its owners.
"Oh, papa!" spoke the little girl in
pleading, fearful tones, don't let them
sell poor dear Dickiel"
Robert Gregory moved to the side OF
the old man.
Don't I know your" he spoke
quickly.
You put me on watch duty nights,
sir" vas the response, but the old
rheumatics laid me up. We came
from the Dexter coal district when
they shut down, and had no money.
What you so kindly allowed me to
earn here is all gone, and they're tax,
ing our poor belongings for rent"
I'm stop that" spoke Gregory firm
ly. Don't cry, little one. You shan't
lose YOU pet bird"
Robert Gregory was as good as his
word. Inside of FIVE minutes the claim
upon which the sale was based was
paid out of his own pocket, the goods
restored to the house, and he was
more than embarrassed at the over.
whelming gratitude of his poor pen
s~ioners.
The little child had the bird out of
its cage and was caressing it as If IL
were a petted child.
You don't know about Dickie," ex.
planned the old man. He's a hero, he
is, and an expert. Down at the Dexter
mines twice we sent him into the
shafts, and twice he came out, stag
gered and nearly gone. We knew
what that meant, sir-fre damp"
A quick idea came to the mind of
Gregory. He had read once of these
trained mine birds. For some time he
piled the old man with questions re-
garding the capabilities of the feath.
cred pet.
Can he do it," exclaimed the old
man-"could he tell how things are
in the old shaft Sewers Why, sir. I'll
be glad to try the experiment"
Two hours later a dozen curious
miners watched a proceeding unique
and mystifying to their point of view.
Old John Dean had not boosted vain
ly Of Dickie and mis- clever abilities.
The little bird stood on mis- finger,
head on one side, watching him as If
listening to an understood mandate
as a board was pulled away from the
shaft top.
Then, with a bright cheep Dickie
plunged straight down into the gloom
and darkness.
Five minutes, ten minutes-no token
of the return of the messenger. Fiji
teen minutes! John Dean looked
grave and anxious.
Then a great wave of excitement
passed over the gathered throng as
there fiuttered into view a wavering
splash Of yellow-Dickie.
The bird barely got through the
aperture. It's head dropped, it's wings
folded. 1t sank, a helpless lump, to
the ground. Its eyes moved once or
twice, it Strengthened out rigid.
It's death down there" spoke John
Dean in a hoarse suppressed tone.
Poor Dickie-a hero to the Iast!"
At daybreak the next morning the
warning of the expert little pet bore
fruit. Old Shaft Seven was belching
out smoke, the fire damp had begun
its dread work.
IF we had pierced that wall, where
would the new levels be now?" was
the pertinent question Robert Gregory
gravely put to Mr.. Dale.
And the latter bowed his head, put
out a trembling hand, and in his heart
was a great thankfulness.
In a manner ut~ilitar1an, too, the fire
damp cleared the way to safe progress
in the new work.
Robert Gregory did not lose his
prestige with his employer. Nor did
he lose the peerless Beatrice.
AS to the mine owner, he surpassed
even Gregory is providing the Dean
family a new home with permanent
comforts.
Little Nellie Dean mourned the loss
of her beloved pet. There was that
which turned her sorrow into proud,
peaceful calm. however.
Near the mouth Of old shaft Seven
a modest granite block of stone wal
placed, bearing the simple and touch
ing inscription: Sacred to the Mem.
DRY Of Dickie-a Bird"