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〃Who was it that brought his mare into his own kitchen when it snowed； and fed her the rice and beans he went without？ Who was it that the Widow Schmitt waits for year after year； with half the ould fools in Placer dancin' after her？〃
That was too much for old man Greeley。
〃Because he was indifferent…like。 When ye want a woman； run away f…r…r…om her and she'll run after。〃
〃Why did ye na do it； then； Jeems？〃
〃Faith an' I did； but bein' ahl dressed up as I was in me coat； she couldn't see me suspenders to tell was I comin' or goin'！〃 Jim Hutch turned from him witheringly。
〃Who was it staked ye for a new prospectin' trip； an' let his own mine go unworked？ Who nursed ye when ye were lyin' seeck unto death； an' no one would come nigh on account of the smallpox scare？ Old Charlie Price。〃
A boy whirled about to face the window； but not before one uncontrollable sob had sounded through the quiet room。
〃Who was it；〃 went on the old Scotchman gently； 〃found the wee bairn that was lost； last summer； that followed the Indians for thirty miles on his Leezie…mare and got the babe from out the wickiup of White Beaver？ Charlie Price。
〃Who came bringing it haeme laughing； on the saddle pommel while he sang to it songs from ower seven seas； which we did blush to hear； in a voice to be heard twa miles about？ And 'twas only the bairn's mother who thought to thank him。
〃Yea； and furthermore； when the incensed people would hae wipet out the while tribe of White Beaver； who dashed at the mob wi' the roars of a bull…bison forcin' them to hear that the squaw was crazed from the death of her own bit bairn； and but tryin' to comfort her sore heart？ Who； I'm askin' ye？〃 and from each man's lips came the murmur like a response to a litany：
〃Charlie Price。〃
From the open door a cool dawn breeze blew in from the Sierras； pure forerunner to the new day。 It whirled the heavy smoke plumes into forms of vanished ghosts； like the tortured figments of each man's conscience who had done； and 〃left undone〃 that which it was forever too late to amend。
The sheriff walked in。
〃This boy says that old Charlie is gone。〃 He stood with his broad hat off； running his fingers nervously through his hair。 〃Gentlemen … I … I must confess … I heard the poor man calling； but … 〃
〃Mon； in an ancient book named 'Mr。 Aesop； His Fables；' there was a tale of the lad who cried 'wolf。' Many there are here who have read it。 Come； let us gae after poor Charlie。〃
In the first daylight they reached the tree with its gruesome burden。
〃But … but；〃 sputtered the keen…eyed little Irishman； 〃'Tis not Charlie at all！ 'Tis but an effigy dressed in Charlie's clothes and hung at the Widow Schmitt's gate。〃
〃As a warnin' to him frae some mutton…head lover of hers。〃
They ran as one man across the road to Charlie's cabin。 It was empty。
〃He was callin' 'Help'；〃 said the round…eyed boy。
〃Yes； we heard him；〃 added the sheriff。
They had come up the road。 They started back down the trail。
* * * * *
Charlie had got nearly home when he began to worry about a deep prospect hole near the trail known as 〃Rosenhammer's Shaft。〃 He must be careful to avoid it。 Suddenly his foot slipped on a pebble。 He clutched unavailingly at a manzanita and rolled into a circle of inky blackness。 Rosenhammer's Shaft！ Now he was lost； indeed。
But； no。 As he slid he came against a sturdy live…oak bush which he clutched； managing to stop his descent into the next world for the time being。 He even； swung one leg over a wiry limb； and there he clung； puttering sailors' argot； considering his sins； and roaring for help in his best fortissimo tone。
The shaft was said to be a hundred feet deep。 It was filled part way with oily water； and inhabited by snakes and monsters of the subterranean deeps。 People had fallen in and drowned； and had been known never to rise again。 The ghost of a Chinaman who had been murdered and flung down； was said to float up from its depths at night to range the earth； seeking the perpetrator of the fiendish deed。
Charlie wished that he had led a more blameless life that he had not so thoroughly beaten the Indian who had sold him a salted mine； that he had not made Lizzie plow； that； above all； he had married the Widow Schmitt when she had so plainly shown her liking for him。
Well； it did not matter much。 He would fall in forty feet of water and they would never find him。 He wished that he had drunk that which the jug contained。 It was growing daylight。 What was the day； then； to him？ He would never live to see it。 His arms were numb。 He must soon let go and fall to his doom。
He heard voices but was too spent to call out。 As a crowd of men came running over the hill； his arms were slipping … slipping。 It was almost broad day。
He made one last； herculean effort to hold fast； turning his head over his shoulder to glance into the deathtrap below and … just as his repentant rescuers reached him； he gave a disgusted snort and fell … three feet to the bottom of the hole！
In the darkness he had safely passed the Rosenhammer shaft and had fallen into the six…feet…deep prospect hole of his own claim。
Two days later； Charlie married the Widow Schmitt
〃Rattlesnake Dick〃
IV
〃Again swings the lash on the high mountain trail； And the pipe of the packer is scenting the gale； For the trails are all open； the roads are all free； And the highwayman's whistle is heard on the lea。〃
… Bret Harte。
We were riding one day under the Digger pines； down an abandoned old road toward Mountaineer House。 As usual； my spirited half…Arab； as white as she was fleet； had put me far in the lead。 She loved a race as well as I did； but she ran it to suit herself。 If I tried to interpose any theories of my own； she calmly took the bit in her teeth and after that I devoted most of my energies to hanging on！
Mammy Kate； own daughter of Nancy Gooch of Coloma； would scold when I came home with torn skirt and a bump on my forehead： 〃Now； den； look at dat chile！ Been hoss…racin' agin su'ah as Moses was in Egypt！ I shall suttenly enjine yo' fathah to done gin' yo' plow…hoss to ride so yo's gwi' git beat wiff yo' racin'； and quit。 Spects yo' had 'nothah tumble； didn't you'？ You' wait till Katie gits de camph…fire an' put on dat haid。〃
So did Katie's scoldings invariably end in renewed pampering of her 〃chile；〃 and so did I continue to race every horse in the community and usually to win。
With one small ear laid back to listen for the other horses； little white Flossie flew along the grassy track； darting around the chapparal bushes which had grown up and jumping the fallen tree trunks。 Suddenly we came out of the woods and she shied violently at a man who was digging a fence…post hole； directly in the road。 I always rode Indian fashion without stirrups of any kind； so of course I was catapulted neatly over her head。
〃Hello。 Otto；〃 I said； remaining seated in the road and catching at Floss' bridle rein； 〃what have you found？〃
Otto was sifting the loose dirt in the hole through eager fingers。
〃Hello！ I've found some money here in the ground。 I wonder … oh； yes； I've heard my mother tell about it！ This was the old pioneer road and i