The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1929-07-08
CHAPTER al
THE FINAL

l had expected some such climax
as this; and as Jerry's voice faded
cut again we found ourselves look
ing at II another with melancholy
eyes. He began again.
Dad found a bit of candle in one
of his pockets. He struck another
match and lighted the candle. AS
the match touched the ground fire
spurted up and sizzled for a mo-
mcnt. Dad said he supposed a little
powder had been spilled by one Of
the mine hands.
Holding the candle, dad knclt by
the body. Uncle Jcrry's face had a
fierce, intent look on it. The wound
was around the heart. Dads other
gold-mountcd pistol lay beside the
body. Near it was q copy of the
Torridity newspaper. dad turned
the cylinder Of the revolver. One
cartridge had been discharged. He
went to the door with the light. The
key he had pushed under the door
was where he had left it. He was
quite sure what had happened. Uncle
Jerry had concluded dad wouldn't
be able to do anything for him and
killed himself. His dependency had
been natural, but it hadn't occurred
to dad that he'd take his own life.
Uncle Jerry was nearer to him
than any one clse-he hadn't any
one else, then. Those few minutes
by Uncle Jerry in that tunnel be-
came the keystone of the life he'd
yet to live. He talked to the body
as If Uncle Jerry were listening.
"'Why did you do it son? !.
Didn't ! tell you Id get you out p
Dad blamed himself for taking Uncle
Jerry to Torridity. 1t wasn't m
place for a kid like you. / failed
YOU all along. . I'm through, son.
I'm pulling out tonight. Maybe some
day I'll feel you've forgiven me-
He began to think about giving
Uncle Jerry decent burial. But
where should he put him? He could
never bring himself to work the
mine again and as Uncle Jerry had
chosen to die in it why not make it
his tomb? If Lundy's heirs found
the transfer, he'd negotiate for the
pr,ncrty.
dad had started to get up when
the light flashed on the small blade
Of Uncle Jcrry's knife. There was
a stub of indeliblc pencil beside it.
The pencil suggested a note and he
picked up the newspaper. There
wasn't any writing on it, but he no.
ticed that part Of the top of the
back sheet had been torn off. Dad
went through Uncle Jerry's pockets,
fully expecting to find the missing
scrap Of paper with some word for
him on it.
There was no scrap of writing
either on the body or near it. Bit
terly disappointed, he placed the
knife. the pencil and the other
trifles on the newspaper.
dad got up, thinking of Dillon.
Queer. his going off like that. he re-
Elected. There was another queer
thing, too, that wound in Jerry's
chest. Suicides usually fired at
their heads.
Diminishing these thoughts, dad
hurried outside. To do what he had
in mind would take some little time
and he hadn't a moment to snare.
The town was still quiet. Dad looked
up at the overhang. It was some
200 feet high, dad said, 1000 feet
wide, and 30 thick at the bottom. The
bottom Of the fissurc was 30 feet
above the top Of the mine door and
it was fairly accessible by a rough
trail.
dad went into the powder house
and lighted a carbide lamp. There
was plenty Of dynamite. He began to
trundle the stuff to the foot Of the
fissure trail, and then carried it
into the f~issure, a Ease at a time.