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I remember my teachers. One could readChaucer and make it just come alive. But then one dayshe returned papers to us and said, "Now, there are twopeople that have exempted the test or the test that wasgoing to be an essay that follows. Ms. Reno, you andso and so do not have to write this essay. What didBlake mean by the tiger?" And I was so appalled thatanybody would ask me, "What did Blake mean by thetiger?" That I just -- was disturbed. I never askedher about it. I graduated. And I saw her about tenyears later. She was standing at her mother's hospitaldoor, so I didn't -- was a little dubious about whetherI should raise it, and finally I did. "I've got to askyou, why did you ever assign that to us? It was such astupid question." She said, "My dear, I must have beendrunk."

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Hardly one of us, I think, really believed in the auriferousprobabilities of Eureka Gulch. Following a little stream, we hadone day drifted into it, very much as we imagined the river goldmight have done in remoter ages, with the difference that WEremained there, while the river gold to all appearances had not.At first it was tacitly agreed to ignore this fact, and we made themost of the charming locality, with its rare watercourse that lostitself in tangled depths of manzanita and alder, its laurel-chokedpass, its flower-strewn hillside, and its summit crested withrocking pines."You see," said the optimistic Rowley, water's the main thing afterall. If we happen to strike river gold, thar's the stream forwashing it; if we happen to drop into quartz--and that thar rocklooks mighty likely--thar ain't a more natural-born site for a millthan that right bank, with water enough to run fifty stamps. Thathillside is an original dump for your tailings, and a ready foundinclined road for your trucks, fresh from the hands of Providence;and that road we're kalkilatin' to build to the turnpike will runjust easy along that ridge."Later, when we were forced to accept the fact that finding gold wasreally the primary object of a gold-mining company, we stillremained there, excusing our youthful laziness and incertitude bybrilliant and effective sarcasms upon the unremunerativeattractions of the gulch. Nevertheless, when Captain Jim,returning one day from the nearest settlement and post-office,twenty miles away, burst upon us with "Well, the hull thing'll besettled now, boys; Lacy Bassett is coming down yer to look round,"we felt considerably relieved.And yet, perhaps, we had as little reason for it as we had forremaining there. There was no warrant for any belief in thespecial divining power of the unknown Lacy Bassett, except CaptainJim's extravagant faith in his general superiority, and even thathad always been a source of amused skepticism to the camp. We werealready impatiently familiar with the opinions of this unseenoracle; he was always impending in Captain Jim's speech as afragrant memory or an unquestioned authority. When Captain Jimbegan, "Ez Lacy was one day tellin' me," or, "Ez Lacy Bassettallows," or more formally, when strangers were present, "Ez apartickler friend o' mine, Lacy Bassett--maybe ez you know him--sez," the youthful and lighter members of the Eureka Mining Companyglanced at each other in furtive enjoyment. Nevertheless no onelooked more eagerly forward to the arrival of this apocryphal sagethan these indolent skeptics. It was at least an excitement; theywere equally ready to accept his condemnation of the locality orhis justification of their original selection.He came. He was received by the Eureka Mining Company lying ontheir backs on the grassy site of the prospective quartz mill, notfar from the equally hypothetical "slide" to the gulch. He came bythe future stage road--at present a thickset jungle of scrub-oaksand ferns. He was accompanied by Captain Jim, who had gone to meethim on the trail, and for a few moments all critical inspection ofhimself was withheld by the extraordinary effect he seemed to haveupon the faculties of his introducer.Anything like the absolute prepossession of Captain Jim by thisstranger we had never imagined. He approached us running a littleahead of his guest, and now and then returning assuringly to hisside with the expression of a devoted Newfoundland dog, which influffiness he generally resembled. And now, even after theintroduction was over, when he made a point of standing aside in anaffectation of carelessness, with his hands in his pockets, thesimulation was so apparent, and his consciousness and absorption inhis friend so obvious, that it was a relief to us to recall himinto the conversation.As to our own first impressions of the stranger, they were probablycorrect. We all disliked him; we thought him conceited, self-opinionated, selfish, and untrustworthy. But later, reflectingthat this was possibly the result of Captain Jim's over-praise, andfinding none of these qualities as yet offensively opposed to ourown selfishness and conceit, we were induced, like many others, toforget our first impressions. We could easily correct him if heattempted to impose upon US, as he evidently had upon Captain Jim.Believing, after the fashion of most humanity, that there wassomething about US particularly awe-inspiring and edifying to viceor weakness of any kind, we good-humoredly yielded to the cheapfascination of this showy, self-saturated, over-dressed, andunderbred stranger. Even the epithet of "blower" as applied to himby Rowley had its mitigations; in that Trajan community a bully wasnot necessarily a coward, nor florid demonstration always aweakness.His condemnation of the gulch was sweeping, original, and striking.He laughed to scorn our half-hearted theory of a gold deposit inthe bed and bars of our favorite stream. We were not to look forauriferous alluvium in the bed of any present existing stream, butin the "cement" or dried-up bed of the original prehistoric riversthat formerly ran parallel with the present bed, and which--hedemonstrated with the stem of Pickney's pipe in the red dust--couldbe found by sinking shafts at right angles with the stream. Thetheory was to us, at that time, novel and attractive. It was truethat the scientific explanation, although full and gratuitous,sounded vague and incoherent. It was true that the geologicalterms were not always correct, and their pronunciation defective,but we accepted such extraordinary discoveries as "ignus fatuusrock," "splendiferous drift," "mica twist" (recalling a popularspecies of tobacco), "iron pirates," and "discomposed quartz" aspart of what he not inaptly called a "tautological formation," andwere happy. Nor was our contentment marred by the fact that thewell-known scientific authority with whom the stranger had beenintimate,--to the point of "sleeping together" during a survey,--and whom he described as a bent old man with spectacles, must haveaged considerably since one of our party saw him three years beforeas a keen young fellow of twenty-five. Inaccuracies like thosewere only the carelessness of genius. "That's my opinion,gentlemen," he concluded, negligently rising, and with pointedpreoccupation whipping the dust of Eureka Gulch from his clotheswith his handkerchief, "but of course it ain't nothin' to me."Captain Jim, who had followed every word with deep and trustfulabsorption, here repeated, "It ain't nothing to him, boys," with aconfidential implication of the gratuitous blessing we hadreceived, and then added, with loyal encouragement to him, "Itain't nothing to you, Lacy, in course," and laid his hand on hisshoulder with infinite tenderness.We, however, endeavored to make it something to Mr. Lacy Bassett.He was spontaneously offered a share in the company and a part ofCaptain Jim's tent. He accepted both after a few deprecating andmuttered asides to Captain Jim, which the latter afterwardsexplained to us was the giving up of several other importantenterprises for our sake. When he finally strolled away withRowley to look over the gulch, Captain Jim reluctantly tore himselfaway from him only for the pleasure of reiterating his praise to usas if in strictest confidence and as an entirely novel proceeding."You see, boys, I didn't like to say it afore HIM, we bein' oldfriends; but, between us, that young feller ez worth thousands tothe camp. Mebbee," he continued with grave naivete, "I ain't saidmuch about him afore, mebbee, bein' old friends and accustomed tohim--you know how it is, boys,--I haven't appreciated him as muchez I ought, and ez you do. In fact, I don't ezakly remember how Ikem to ask him down yer. It came to me suddent, one day only aweek ago Friday night, thar under that buckeye; I was thinkin' o'one of his sayins, and sez I--thar's Lacy, if he was here he'd setthe hull thing right. It was the ghost of a chance my findin' himfree, but I did. And there HE is, and yer WE are settled! Yenoticed how he just knocked the bottom outer our plans to work. Yenoticed that quick sort o' sneerin' smile o' his, didn't ye--that'sLacy! I've seen him knock over a heap o' things without sayin'anythin'--with jist that smile."It occurred to us that we might have some difficulty in utilizingthis smile in our present affairs, and that we should have probablypreferred something more assuring, but Captain Jim's faith wascontagious."What is he, anyway?" asked Joe Walker lazily."Eh!" echoed Captain Jim in astonishment. "What is Lacy Bassett?""Yes, what is he?" repeated Walker."Wot IS--he?""Yes.""I've knowed him now goin' as four year," said Captain Jim withslow reflective contentment. "Let's see. It was in the fall o''54 I first met him, and he's allus been the same ez you see himnow.""But what is his business or profession? What does he do?"Captain Jim looked reproachfully at his questioner."Do?" he repeated, turning to the rest of us as if disdaining adirect reply. "Do?--why, wot he's doin' now. He's allus the same,allus Lacy Bassett."Howbeit, we went to work the next day under the superintendence ofthe stranger with youthful and enthusiastic energy, and began thesinking of a shaft at once. To do Captain Jim's friend justice,for the first few weeks he did not shirk a fair share of the actuallabor, replacing his objectionable and unsuitable finery with asuit of serviceable working clothes got together by generalcontribution of the camp, and assuring us of a fact we afterwardshad cause to remember, that "he brought nothing but himself intoEureka Gulch." It may be added that he certainly had not broughtmoney there, as Captain Jim advanced the small amounts necessaryfor his purchases in the distant settlement, and for the stillsmaller sums he lost at cards, which he played with characteristicself-sufficiency.Meantime the work in the shaft progressed slowly but regularly.Even when the novelty had worn off and the excitement ofanticipation grew fainter, I am afraid that we clung to this newform of occupation as an apology for remaining there; for thefascinations of our vagabond and unconventional life were morepotent than we dreamed of. We were slowly fettered by our veryfreedom; there was a strange spell in this very boundlessness ofour license that kept us from even the desire of change; in thewild and lawless arms of nature herself we found an embrace asclinging, as hopeless and restraining, as the civilization fromwhich we had fled. We were quite content after a few hours' workin the shaft to lie on our backs on the hillside staring at theunwinking sky, or to wander with a gun through the virgin forest insearch of game scarcely less vagabond than ourselves. We indulgedin the most extravagant and dreamy speculations of the fortune weshould eventually discover in the shaft, and believed that we werepractical. We broke our "saleratus bread" with appetitesunimpaired by restlessness or anxiety; we went to sleep under thegrave and sedate stars with a serene consciousness of having fairlyearned our rest; we awoke the next morning with unabatedtrustfulness, and a sweet obliviousness of even the hypotheticalfortunes we had perhaps won or lost at cards overnight. We paid noheed to the fact that our little capital was slowly sinking withthe shaft, and that the rainy season--wherein not only "no mancould work," but even such play as ours was impossible--wasmomentarily impending.In the midst of this, one day Lacy Bassett suddenly emerged fromthe shaft before his "shift" of labor was over with every sign ofdisgust and rage in his face and inarticulate with apparentpassion. In vain we gathered round him in concern; in vain CaptainJim regarded him with almost feminine sympathy, as he flung awayhis pick and dashed his hat to the ground."What's up, Lacy, old pard? What's gone o' you?" said Captain Jimtenderly."Look!" gasped Lacy at last, when every eye was on him, holding upa small fragment of rock before us and the next moment grinding itunder his heel in rage. "Look! To think that I've been fooledagin by this blanked fossiliferous trap--blank it! To think thatafter me and Professor Parker was once caught jist in this way upon the Stanislaus at the bottom of a hundred-foot shaft by thisrotten trap--that yer I am--bluffed agin!"There was a dead silence; we looked at each other blankly."But, Bassett," said Walker, picking up a part of the fragment,"we've been finding this kind of stuff for the last two weeks.""But how?" returned Lacy, turning upon him almost fiercely. "Didye find it superposed on quartz, or did you find it NOT superposedon quartz? Did you find it in volcanic drift, or did ye find it inold red-sandstone or coarse illuvion? Tell me that, and then yekin talk. But this yer blank fossiliferous trap, instead o' beingsuperposed on top, is superposed on the bottom. And that means"--"What?" we all asked eagerly."Why--blank it all--that this yer convulsion of nature, thisprehistoric volcanic earthquake, instead of acting laterally andchuckin' the stream to one side, has been revolutionary and turnedthe old river-bed bottom-side up, and yer d--d cement hez got halfthe globe atop of it! Ye might strike it from China, but nowhereelse."We continued to look at one another, the older members withdarkening faces, the younger with a strong inclination to laugh.Captain Jim, who had been concerned only in his friend's emotion,and who was hanging with undisguised satisfaction on these finalconvincing proofs of his superior geological knowledge, murmuredapprovingly and confidingly, "He's right, boys! Thar ain't anotherman livin' ez could give you the law and gospil like that! Ye cantie to what he says. That's Lacy all over."Two weeks passed. We had gathered, damp and disconsolate, in theonly available shelter of the camp. For the long summer had endedunexpectedly to us; we had one day found ourselves caught like theimprovident insect of the child's fable with gauzy and unseasonablewings wet and bedraggled in the first rains, homeless and hopeless.The scientific Lacy, who lately spent most of his time as a bar-room oracle in the settlement, was away, and from our drippingcanvas we could see Captain Jim returning from a visit to him,slowly plodding along the trail towards us."It's no use, boys," said Rowley, summarizing the result of ourconference, "we must speak out to him, and if nobody else cares todo it I will. I don't know why we should be more mealy-mouthedthan they are at the settlement. They don't hesitate to callBassett a dead-beat, whatever Captain Jim says to the contrary."The unfortunate Captain Jim had halted irresolutely before thegloomy faces in the shelter. Whether he felt instinctively someforewarning of what was coming I cannot say. There was a certaindog-like consciousness in his eye and a half-backward glance overhis shoulder as if he were not quite certain that Lacy was notfollowing. The rain had somewhat subdued his characteristicfluffiness, and he cowered with a kind of sleek storm-beatendespondency over the smoking fire of green wood before our tent.Nevertheless, Rowley opened upon him with a directness and decisionthat astonished us. He pointed out briefly that Lacy Bassett hadbeen known to us only through Captain Jim's introduction. That hehad been originally invited there on Captain Jim's own account, andthat his later connection with the company had been wholly theresult of Captain Jim's statements. That, far from being any aidor assistance to them, Bassett had beguiled them by apocryphalknowledge and sham scientific theories into an expensive andgigantic piece of folly. That, in addition to this, they had justdiscovered that he had also been using the credit of the companyfor his own individual expenses at the settlement while they wereworking on his d--d fool shaft--all of which had brought them tothe verge of bankruptcy. That, as a result, they were forced nowto demand his resignation--not only on their general account, butfor Captain Jim's sake--believing firmly, as they did, that he hadbeen as grossly deceived in his friendship for Lacy Bassett as THEYwere in their business relations with him.Instead of being mollified by this, Captain Jim, to our greaterastonishment, suddenly turned upon the speaker, bristling with hisold canine suggestion."There! I said so! Go on! I'd have sworn to it afore you openedyour lips. I knowed it the day you sneaked around and wanted toknow wot his business was! I said to myself, Cap, look out forthat sneakin' hound Rowley, he's no friend o' Lacy's. And the dayLacy so far demeaned himself as to give ye that splendidexplanation o' things, I watched ye; ye didn't think it, but Iwatched ye. Ye can't fool me! I saw ye lookin' at Walker there,and I said to myself, Wot's the use, Lacy, wot's the use o' yourslingin' them words to such as THEM? Wot do THEY know? It's justtheir pure jealousy and ignorance. Ef you'd come down yer, andlazed around with us and fallen into our common ways, you'd ha'been ez good a man ez the next. But no, it ain't your style, Lacy,you're accustomed to high-toned men like Professor Parker, and youcan't help showing it. No wonder you took to avoidin' us; nowonder I've had to foller you over the Burnt Wood Crossin' time andagain, to get to see ye. I see it all now: ye can't stand thekempany I brought ye to! Ye had to wipe the slum gullion of EurekaGulch off your hands, Lacy"-- He stopped, gasped for breath, andthen lifted his voice more savagely, "And now, what's this? Wot'sthis hogwash? this yer lyin' slander about his gettin' things onthe kempany's credit? Eh, speak up, some of ye!"We were so utterly shocked and stupefied at the degradation of thissudden and unexpected outburst from a man usually so honorable,gentle, self-sacrificing, and forgiving, that we forgot the causeof it and could only stare at each other. What was this cheapstranger, with his shallow swindling tricks, to the ignoble changehe had worked upon the man before us. Rowley and Walker, bothfearless fighters and quick to resent an insult, only averted theirsaddened faces and turned aside without a word."Ye dussen't say it! Well, hark to me then," he continued withwhite and feverish lips. "I put him up to helpin' himself. I toldhim to use the kempany's name for credit. Ye kin put that down toME. And when ye talk of HIS resigning, I want ye to understandthat I resign outer this rotten kempany and TAKE HIM WITH ME! Efall the gold yer lookin' for was piled up in that shaft from itsbottom in hell to its top in the gulch, it ain't enough to keep mehere away from him! Ye kin take all my share--all MY rights yerabove ground and below it--all I carry,"--he threw his buckskinpurse and revolver on the ground,--"and pay yourselves what youreckon you've lost through HIM. But you and me is quits from to-day."He strode away before a restraining voice or hand could reach him.His dripping figure seemed to melt into the rain beneath thethickening shadows of the pines, and the next moment he was gone.From that day forward Eureka Gulch knew him no more. And the campitself somehow melted away during the rainy season, even as he haddone.II.Three years had passed. The pioneer stage-coach was sweeping downthe long descent to the pastoral valley of Gilead, and I waslooking towards the village with some pardonable interest andanxiety. For I carried in my pocket my letters of promotion fromthe box seat of the coach--where I had performed the functions oftreasure messenger for the Excelsior Express Company--to theresident agency of that company in the bucolic hamlet before me.The few dusty right-angled streets, with their rigid and staringlynew shops and dwellings, the stern formality of one or two obelisk-like meeting-house spires, the illimitable outlying plains of wheatand wild oats beyond, with their monotony scarcely broken byskeleton stockades, corrals, and barrack-looking farm buildings,were all certainly unlike the unkempt freedom of the mountainfastnesses in which I had lately lived and moved. Yuba Bill, thedriver, whose usual expression of humorous discontent deepened intoscorn as he gathered up his reins as if to charge the village andrecklessly sweep it from his path, indicated a huge, rambling,obtrusively glazed, and capital-lettered building with acontemptuous flick of his whip as we passed. "Ef you'rekalkilatin' we'll get our partin' drink there you're mistaken.That's wot they call a TEMPERANCE HOUSE--wot means a place wherethe licker ye get underhand is only a trifle worse than the hash yeget above-board. I suppose it's part o' one o' the mysteries o'Providence that wharever you find a dusty hole like this--that'snaturally THIRSTY--ye run agin a 'temperance' house. But never YOUmind! I shouldn't wonder if thar was a demijohn o' whiskey in thecloset of your back office, kept thar by the feller you'rerelievin'--who was a white man and knew the ropes."A few minutes later, when my brief installation was over, we DIDfind the demijohn in the place indicated. As Yuba Bill wiped hismouth with the back of his heavy buckskin glove, he turned to menot unkindly. "I don't like to set ye agin Gile-ad, which is ascrip-too-rural place, and a God-fearin' place, and a nice dryplace, and a place ez I've heard tell whar they grow beans andpertatoes and garden sass; but afore three weeks is over, old pard,you'll be howlin' to get back on that box seat with me, whar youuster sit, and be ready to take your chances agin, like a littleman, to get drilled through with buckshot from road agents. Youhear me! I'll give you three weeks, sonny, just three weeks, toget your butes full o' hayseed and straws in yer har; and I'll findye wadin' the North Fork at high water to get out o' this." Heshook my hand with grim tenderness, removing his glove--a rarefavor--to give me the pressure of his large, soft, protecting palm,and strode away. The next moment he was shaking the white dust ofGilead from his scornful chariot-wheels.In the hope of familiarizing myself with the local interests of thecommunity, I took up a copy of the "Gilead Guardian" which lay onmy desk, forgetting for the moment the usual custom of the countrypress to displace local news for long editorials on foreignsubjects and national politics. I found, to my disappointment,that the "Guardian" exhibited more than the usual dearth ofdomestic intelligence, although it was singularly oracular on "TheState of Europe," and "Jeffersonian Democracy." A certain cheapassurance, a copy-book dogmatism, a colloquial familiarity, even inthe impersonal plural, and a series of inaccuracies and blundershere and there, struck some old chord in my memory. I was mutelywondering where and when I had become personally familiar withrhetoric like that, when the door of the office opened and a manentered. I was surprised to recognize Captain Jim.I had not seen him since he had indignantly left us, three yearsbefore, in Eureka Gulch. The circumstances of his defection werecertainly not conducive to any voluntary renewal of friendship oneither side; and although, even as a former member of the EurekaMining Company, I was not conscious of retaining any sense ofinjury, yet the whole occurrence flashed back upon me with awkwarddistinctness. To my relief, however, he greeted me with his oldcordiality; to my amusement he added to it a suggestion of thelarge forgiveness of conscious rectitude and amiable toleration. Ithought, however, I detected, as he glanced at the paper which wasstill in my hand and then back again at my face, the same uneasycanine resemblance I remembered of old. He had changed but littlein appearance; perhaps he was a trifle stouter, more mature, andslower in his movements. If I may return to my canineillustration, his grayer, dustier, and more wiry ensemble gave methe impression that certain pastoral and agricultural conditionshad varied his type, and he looked more like a shepherd's dog inwhose brown eyes there was an abiding consciousness of the care ofstraying sheep, and possibly of one black one in particular.He had, he told me, abandoned mining and taken up farming on arather large scale. He had prospered. He had other interests atstake, "A flour-mill with some improvements--and--and"--here hiseyes wandered to the "Guardian" again, and he asked me somewhatabruptly what I thought of the paper. Something impelled me torestrain my previous fuller criticism, and I contented myself bysaying briefly that I thought it rather ambitious for the locality."That's the word," he said with a look of gratified relief,"'ambitious'--you've just hit it. And what's the matter with thet?Ye kan't expect a high-toned man to write down to the level ofevery karpin' hound, ken ye now? That's what he says to me"-- Hestopped half confused, and then added abruptly: "That's one o' myinvestments.""Why, Captain Jim, I never suspected that you"--"Oh, I don't WRITE it," he interrupted hastily. "I only furnishthe money and the advertising, and run it gin'rally, you know; andI'm responsible for it. And I select the eddyter--and"--hecontinued, with a return of the same uneasy wistful look--"thar'ssuthin' in thet, you know, eh?"I was beginning to be perplexed. The memory evoked by the style ofthe editorial writing and the presence of Captain Jim was assuminga suspicious relationship to each other. "And who's your editor?"I asked."Oh, he's--he's--er--Lacy Bassett," he replied, blinking his eyeswith a hopeless assumption of carelessness. "Let's see! Oh yes!You knowed Lacy down there at Eureka. I disremembered it till now.Yes, sir!" he repeated suddenly and almost rudely, as if topreclude any adverse criticism, "he's the eddyter!"To my surprise he was quite white and tremulous with nervousness.I was very sorry for him, and as I really cared very little for thehalf-forgotten escapade of his friend except so far as it seemed torender HIM sensitive, I shook his hand again heartily and began totalk of our old life in the gulch--avoiding as far as possible anyallusion to Lacy Bassett. His face brightened; his old simplecordiality and trustfulness returned, but unfortunately with it hisold disposition to refer to Bassett. "Yes, they waz high oldtimes, and ez I waz sayin' to Lacy on'y yesterday, there is a kindo' freedom 'bout that sort o' life that runs civilization andnoospapers mighty hard, however high-toned they is. Not but whatLacy ain't right," he added quickly, "when he sez that theopposition the 'Guardian' gets here comes from ignorant low-downfellers ez wos brought up in played-out camps, and can't tell agentleman and a scholar and a scientific man when they sees him.No! So I sez to Lacy, 'Never you mind, it's high time they did,and they've got to do it and to swaller the "Guardian," if I sinkdouble the money I've already put into the paper.'"I was not long in discovering from other sources that the"Guardian" was not popular with the more intelligent readers ofGilead, and that Captain Jim's extravagant estimate of his friendwas by no means indorsed by the community. But criticism took ahumorous turn even in that practical settlement, and it appearedthat Lacy Bassett's vanity, assumption, and ignorance were anunfailing and weekly joy to the critical, in spite of the vaguedistrust they induced in the more homely-witted, and the dullacquiescence of that minority who accepted the paper for itsrespectable exterior and advertisements. I was somewhat grieved,however, to find that Captain Jim shared equally with his friend inthis general verdict of incompetency, and that some of the mostoutrageous blunders were put down to HIM. But I was not preparedto believe that Lacy had directly or by innuendo helped the publicto this opinion.Whether through accident or design on his part, Lacy Bassett didnot personally obtrude himself upon my remembrance until a monthlater. One dazzling afternoon, when the dust and heat had driventhe pride of Gilead's manhood into the surreptitious shadows of thetemperance hotel's back room, and had even cleared the expressoffice of its loungers, and left me alone with darkened windows inthe private office, the outer door opened and Captain Jim's friendentered as part of that garish glitter I had shut out. To do thescamp strict justice, however, he was somewhat subdued in his dressand manner, and, possibly through some gentle chastening of epigramand revolver since I had seen him last, was less aggressive andexaggerated. I had the impression, from certain odors waftedthrough the apartment and a peculiar physical exaltation that wasinconsistent with his evident moral hesitancy, that he had preparedhimself for the interview by a previous visit to the hiddenfountains of the temperance hotel."We don't seem to have run agin each other since you've been here,"he said with an assurance that was nevertheless a trifle forced"but I reckon we're both busy men, and there's a heap too muchloafing goin' on in Gilead. Captain Jim told me he met you the dayyou arrived; said you just cottoned to the 'Guardian' at once andthought it a deal too good for Gilead; eh? Oh, well, jest ezlikely he DIDN'T say it--it was only his gassin'. He's a queerman--is Captain Jim."I replied somewhat sharply that I considered him a very honest man,a very simple man, and a very loyal man."That's all very well," said Bassett, twirling his cane with apatronizing smile, "but, as his friend, don't you find himconsiderable of a darned fool?"I could not help retorting that I thought HE had found that hardlyan objection."YOU think so," he said querulously, apparently ignoring everythingbut the practical fact,--"and maybe others do; but that's whereyou're mistaken. It don't pay. It may pay HIM to be runnin' me ashis particular friend, to be quotin' me here and there, to begettin' credit of knowin' me and my friends and ownin' me--by Gosh!but I don't see where the benefit to ME comes in. Eh? Take yourown case down there at Eureka Gulch; didn't he send for me just toshow me up to you fellers? Did I want to have anything to do withthe Eureka Company? Didn't he set me up to give my opinion aboutthat shaft just to show off what I knew about science and all that?And what did he get me to join the company for? Was it for you?No! Was it for me? No! It was just to keep me there for HIMSELF,and kinder pit me agin you fellers and crow over you! Now thatain't my style! It may be HIS--it may be honest and simple andloyal, as you say, and it may be all right for him to get me to runup accounts at the settlement and then throw off on me--but itain't my style. I suppose he let on that I did that. No? Hedidn't? Well then, why did he want to run me off with him, and outthe whole concern in an underhand way and make me leave with nary acharacter behind me, eh? Now, I never said anything about thisbefore--did I? It ain't like me. I wouldn't have said anythingabout it now, only you talked about MY being benefited by hisdarned foolishness. Much I've made outer HIM."Despicable, false, and disloyal as this was, perhaps it was thecrowning meanness of such confidences that his very weakness seemedonly a reflection of Captain Jim's own, and appeared in somestrange way to degrade his friend as much as himself. Thesimplicity of his vanity and selfishness was only equalled by thesimplicity of Captain Jim's admiration of it. It was a part of myyouthful inexperience of humanity that I was not above the commonfallacy of believing that a man is "known by the company he keeps,"and that he is in a manner responsible for its weakness; it was apart of that humanity that I felt no surprise in being more amusedthan shocked by this revelation. It seemed a good joke on CaptainJim!"Of course YOU kin laugh at his darned foolishness; but, by Gosh,it ain't a laughing matter to me!""But surely he's given you a good position on the 'Guardian,'" Iurged. "That was disinterested, certainly.""Was it? I call that the cheekiest thing yet. When he found hecouldn't make enough of me in private life, he totes me out inpublic as HIS editor--the man who runs HIS paper! And has his namein print as the proprietor, the only chance he'd ever get of beingbefore the public. And don't know the whole town is laughing athim!""That may be because they think HE writes some of the articles," Isuggested.Again the insinuation glanced harmlessly from his vanity. "Thatcouldn't be, because I do all the work, and it ain't his style," hesaid with naive discontent. "And it's always the highest style,done to please him, though between you and me it's sorter castin'pearls before swine--this 'Frisco editing--and the public would bejust as satisfied with anything I could rattle off that was peartand sassy,--something spicy or personal. I'm willing to climb downand do it, for there's nothin' stuck-up about me, you know; butthat darned fool Captain Jim has got the big head about the styleof the paper, and darned if I don't think he's afraid if there's alettin' down, people may think it's him! Ez if! Why, you know aswell as me that there's a sort of snap I could give these thingsthat would show it was me and no slouch did them, in a minute."I had my doubts about the elegance or playfulness of Mr. Bassett'strifling, but from some paragraphs that appeared in the next issueof the "Guardian" I judged that he had won over Captain Jim--ifindeed that gentleman's alleged objections were not entirely theoutcome of Bassett's fancy. The social paragraphs themselves wereclumsy and vulgar. A dull-witted account of a select party atParson Baxter's, with a point-blank compliment to Polly Baxter hisdaughter, might have made her pretty cheek burn but for her evidentprepossession for the meretricious scamp, its writer. But eventhis horse-play seemed more natural than the utterly artificialeditorials with their pinchbeck glitter and cheap erudition; andthus far it appeared harmless.I grieve to say that these appearances were deceptive. Oneafternoon, as I was returning from a business visit to theoutskirts of the village, I was amazed on reentering the mainstreet to find a crowd collected around the "Guardian" office,gazing at the broken glass of its windows and a quantity of typescattered on the ground. But my attention was at that moment moreurgently attracted by a similar group around my own office, who,however, seemed more cautious, and were holding timorously alooffrom the entrance. As I ran rapidly towards them, a few calledout, "Look out--he's in there!" while others made way to let mepass. With the impression of fire or robbery in my mind, I enteredprecipitately, only to find Yuba Bill calmly leaning back in anarm-chair with his feet on the back of another, a glass of whiskeyfrom my demijohn in one hand and a huge cigar in his mouth. Acrosshis lap lay a stumpy shotgun which I at once recognized as "theLeft Bower," whose usual place was at his feet on the box duringhis journeys. He looked cool and collected, although there wereone or two splashes of printer's ink on his shirt and trousers, andfrom the appearance of my lavatory and towel he had evidently beenremoving similar stains from his hands. Putting his gun aside andgrasping my hand warmly without rising, he began with even morethan his usual lazy imperturbability:"Well, how's Gilead lookin' to-day?"It struck me as looking rather disturbed, but, as I was still toobewildered to reply, he continued lazily:"Ez you didn't hunt me up, I allowed you might hev got kinderpetrified and dried up down yer, and I reckoned to run down andrattle round a bit and make things lively for ye. I've jistcleared out a newspaper office over thar. They call it the'Guardi-an,' though it didn't seem to offer much pertection to themfellers ez was in it. In fact, it wasn't ez much a fight ez itorter hev been. It was rather monotonous for me.""But what's the row, Bill? What has happened?" I asked excitedly."Nothin' to speak of, I tell ye," replied Yuba Bill reflectively."I jest meandered into that shop over there, and I sez, 'I want tersee the man ez runs this yer mill o' literatoor an' progress.'Thar waz two infants sittin' on high chairs havin' some innocentlittle game o' pickin' pieces o' lead outer pill-boxes like, and assoon ez they seed me one of 'em crawled under his desk and theother scooted outer the back door. Bimeby the door opens again,and a fluffy coyote-lookin' feller comes in and allows that HE isresponsible for that yer paper. When I saw the kind of animal hewas, and that he hadn't any weppings, I jist laid the Left Bowerdown on the floor. Then I sez, 'You allowed in your paper that Ioughter hev a little sevility knocked inter me, and I'm here to hevit done. You ken begin it now.' With that I reached for him, andwe waltzed oncet or twicet around the room, and then I put him upon the mantelpiece and on them desks and little boxes, and took himdown again, and kinder wiped the floor with him gin'rally, untilthe first thing I knowed he was outside the winder on the sidewalk.On'y blamed if I didn't forget to open the winder. Ef it hadn'tbeen for that, it would hev been all quiet and peaceful-like, andnobody hev knowed it. But the sash being in the way, it sortercreated a disturbance and unpleasantness OUTSIDE.""But what was it all about?" I repeated. "What had he done toyou?""Ye'll find it in that paper," he said, indicating a copy of the"Guardian" that lay on my table with a lazy nod of his head."P'r'aps you don't read it? No more do I. But Joe Bilson sez tome yesterday: 'Bill,' sez he, 'they're goin' for ye in the"Guardian."' 'Wot's that?' sez I. 'Hark to this,' sez he, andreads out that bit that you'll find there."I had opened the paper, and he pointed to a paragraph. "There itis. Pooty, ain't it?" I read with amazement as follows:--"If the Pioneer Stage Company want to keep up with the times, andnot degenerate into the old style 'one hoss' road-wagon business,they'd better make some reform on the line. They might begin byshipping off some of the old-time whiskey-guzzling drivers who aretoo high and mighty to do anything but handle the ribbons, and areabove speaking to a passenger unless he's a favorite or one oftheir set. Over-praise for an occasional scrimmage with roadagents, and flattery from Eastern greenhorns, have given them thebig head. If the fool-killer were let loose on the line with a bigclub, and knocked a little civility into their heads, it wouldn'tbe a bad thing, and would be a particular relief to the passengersfor Gilead who have to take the stage from Simpson's Bar.""That's my stage," said Yuba Bill quietly, when I had ended; "andthat's ME.""But it's impossible," I said eagerly. "That insult was neverwritten by Captain Jim.""Captain Jim," repeated Yuba Bill reflectively. "Captain Jim,--yes, that was the name o' the man I was playin' with. Shortishhairy feller, suthin' between a big coyote and the old-style hair-trunk. Fought pretty well for a hay-footed man from Gil-e-ad.""But you've whipped the wrong man, Bill," I said. "Think again!Have you had any quarrel lately?--run against any newspaper man?"The recollection had flashed upon me that Lacy Bassett had latelyreturned from a visit to Stockton.Yuba Bill regarded his boots on the other arm-chair for a fewmoments in profound meditation. "There was a sort o' gaudyinsect," he began presently, "suthin' halfway betwixt a boss-flyand a devil's darnin'-needle, ez crawled up onter the box seat withme last week, and buzzed! Now I think on it, he talked high-faluten' o' the inflooence of the press and sech. I may hev said'shoo' to him when he was hummin' the loudest. I mout hev flickedhim off oncet or twicet with my whip. It must be him. Gosh!" hesaid suddenly, rising and lifting his heavy hand to his forehead,"now I think agin he was the feller ez crawled under the desk whenthe fight was goin' on, and stayed there. Yes, sir, that was HIM.His face looked sorter familiar, but I didn't know him moultin'with his feathers off." He turned upon me with the firstexpression of trouble and anxiety I had ever seen him wear. "Yes,sir, that's him. And I've kem--me, Yuba Bill!--kem MYSELF, amatter of twenty miles, totin' a GUN--a gun, by Gosh!--to fightthat--that--that potatar-bug!" He walked to the window, turned,walked back again, finished his whiskey with a single gulp, andlaid his hand almost despondingly on my shoulder. "Look ye, old--old fell, you and me's ole friends. Don't give me away. Don't leton a word o' this to any one! Say I kem down yer howlin' drunk ona gen'ral tear! Say I mistook that newspaper office for a cigar-shop, and--got licked by the boss! Say anythin' you like, 'ceptthat I took a gun down yer to chase a fly that had settled onterme. Keep the Left Bower in yer back office till I send for it. Efyou've got a back door somewhere handy where I can slip outer thiswithout bein' seen I'd be thankful."As this desponding suggestion appeared to me as the wisest thingfor him to do in the then threatening state of affairs outside,--which, had he suspected it, he would have stayed to face,--Iquickly opened a door into a courtyard that communicated through analley with a side street. Here we shook hands and parted; his lastdejected ejaculation being, "That potatobug!" Later I ascertainedthat Captain Jim had retired to his ranch some four miles distant.He was not seriously hurt, but looked, to use the words of myinformant, "ez ef he'd been hugged by a playful b'ar." As the"Guardian" made its appearance the next week without the slightestallusion to the fracas, I did not deem it necessary to divulge thereal facts. When I called to inquire about Captain Jim'scondition, he himself, however, volunteered an explanation."I don't mind tellin' you, ez an old friend o' mine and Lacy's,that the secret of that there attack on me and the 'Guardian' wasperlitikal. Yes, sir! There was a powerful orginization in theinterest o' Halkins for assemblyman ez didn't like our high-tonededitorials on caucus corruption, and hired a bully to kem down hereand suppress us. Why, this yer Lacy spotted the idea to oncet; yerknow how keen be is.""Was Lacy present?" I asked as carelessly as I could.Captain Jim glanced his eyes over his shoulder quite in his oldfurtive canine fashion, and then blinked them at me rapidly. "Hewar! And if it warn't for HIS pluck and HIS science and HISstrength, I don't know whar I'D hev been now! Howsomever, it's allright. I've had a fair offer to sell the 'Guardian' over atSimpson's Bar, and it's time I quit throwin' away the work of a manlike Lacy Bassett upon it. And between you and me, I've got anidea and suthin' better to put his talens into."III.It was not long before it became evident that the "talens" of Mr.Lacy Bassett, as indicated by Captain Jim, were to grasp at a seatin the state legislature. An editorial in the "Simpson's BarClarion" boldly advocated his pretensions. At first it wasbelieved that the article emanated from the gifted pen of Lacyhimself, but the style was so unmistakably that of ColonelStarbottle, an eminent political "war-horse" of the district, thata graver truth was at once suggested, namely, that the "Guardian"had simply been transferred to Simpson's Bar, and merged into the"Clarion" solely on this condition. At least it was recognizedthat it was the hand of Captain Jim which guided the editorialfingers of the colonel, and Captain Jim's money that distended thepockets of that gallant political leader.Howbeit Lacy Bassett was never elected; in fact he was only for onebrief moment a candidate. It was related that upon his firstascending the platform at Simpson's Bar a voice in the audiencesaid lazily, "Come down!" That voice was Yuba Bill's. A slightconfusion ensued, in which Yuba Bill whispered a few words in thecolonel's ear. After a moment's hesitation the "war-horse" cameforward, and in his loftiest manner regretted that the candidatehad withdrawn. The next issue of the "Clarion" proclaimed with nouncertain sound that a base conspiracy gotten up by the formerproprietor of the "Guardian" to undermine the prestige of the GreatExpress Company had been ruthlessly exposed, and the candidate onlearning it HIMSELF for the first time, withdrew his name from thecanvass, as became a high-toned gentleman. Public opinion,ignoring Lacy Bassett completely, unhesitatingly denounced CaptainJim.During this period I had paid but little heed to Lacy Bassett'ssocial movements, or the successes which would naturally attendsuch a character with the susceptible sex. I had heard that he wasengaged to Polly Baxter, but that they had quarrelled inconsequence of his flirtations with others, especially a Mrs.Sweeny, a profusely ornamented but reputationless widow. CaptainJim had often alluded with a certain respectful pride and delicacyto Polly's ardent appreciation of his friend, and had more thanhalf hinted with the same reverential mystery to their matrimonialunion later, and his intention of "doing the square thing" for theyoung couple. But it was presently noticed that these allusionsbecame less frequent during Lacy's amorous aberrations, and anoccasional depression and unusual reticence marked Captain Jim'smanner when the subject was discussed in his presence. He seemedto endeavor to make up for his friend's defection by a kind ofpersonal homage to Polly, and not unfrequently accompanied her tochurch or to singing-class. I have a vivid recollection of meetinghim one afternoon crossing the fields with her, and looking intoher face with that same wistful, absorbed, and uneasy canineexpression that I had hitherto supposed he had reserved for Lacyalone. I do not know whether Polly was averse to the speechlessdevotion of these yearning brown eyes; her manner was animated andthe pretty cheek that was nearest me mantled as I passed; but I wasstruck for the first time with the idea that Captain Jim loved her!I was surprised to have that fancy corroborated in the remark ofanother wayfarer whom I met, to the effect, "That now that Bassettwas out o' the running it looked ez if Captain Jim was makin' upfor time!" Was it possible that Captain Jim had always loved her?I did not at first know whether to be pained or pleased for hissake. But I concluded that whether the unworthy Bassett had atlast found a RIVAL in Captain Jim or in the girl herself, it was adisplacement that was for Captain Jim's welfare. But as I wasabout leaving Gilead for a month's transfer to the San Franciscooffice, I had no opportunity to learn more from the confidences ofCaptain Jim.I was ascending the principal staircase of my San Francisco hotelone rainy afternoon, when I was pointedly recalled to Gilead by thepassing glitter of Mrs. Sweeny's jewelry and the sudden vanishingbehind her of a gentleman who seemed to be accompanying her. A fewmoments after I had entered my room I heard a tap at my door, andopened it upon Lacy Bassett. I thought he looked a little confusedand agitated. Nevertheless, with an assumption of cordiality andease he said, "It appears we're neighbors. That's my room next toyours." He pointed to the next room, which I then remembered was asitting-room en suite with my own, and communicating with it by asecond door, which was always locked. It had not been occupiedsince my tenancy. As I suppose my face did not show anyextravagant delight at the news of his contiguity, he added,hastily, "There's a transom over the door, and I thought I'd tellyou you kin hear everything from the one room to the other."I thanked him, and told him dryly that, as I had no secrets todivulge and none that I cared to hear, it made no difference to me.As this seemed to increase his confusion and he still hesitatedbefore the door, I asked him if Captain Jim was with him."No," he said quickly. "I haven't seen him for a month, and don'twant to. Look here, I want to talk to you a bit about him." Hewalked into the room, and closed the door behind him. "I want totell you that me and Captain Jim is played! All this runnin' o' meand interferin' with me is played! I'm tired of it. You kin tellhim so from me.""Then you have quarrelled?""Yes. As much as any man can quarrel with a darned fool who can'ttake a hint.""One moment. Have you quarrelled about Polly Baxter?""Yes," he answered querulously. "Of course I have. What does hemean by interfering?"Now listen to me, Mr. Bassett," I interrupted. "I have no desireto concern myself in your association with Captain Jim, but sinceyou persist in dragging me into it, you must allow me to speakplainly. From all that I can ascertain you have no seriousintentions of marrying Polly Baxter. You have come here fromGilead to follow Mrs. Sweeny, whom I saw you with a moment ago.Now, why do you not frankly give up Miss Baxter to Captain Jim, whowill make her a good husband, and go your own way with Mrs. Sweeny?If you really wish to break off your connection with Captain Jim,that's the only way to do it."His face, which had exhibited the weakest and most pitiableconsciousness at the mention of Mrs. Sweeny, changed to anexpression of absolute stupefaction as I concluded."Wot stuff are you tryin' to fool me with?" he said at lastroughly."I mean," I replied sharply, "that this double game of yours isdisgraceful. Your association with Mrs. Sweeny demands thewithdrawal of any claim you have upon Miss Baxter at once. If youhave no respect for Captain Jim's friendship, you must at leastshow common decency to her."He burst into a half-relieved, half-hysteric laugh. "Are youcrazy?" gasped he. "Why, Captain Jim's just huntin' ME down tomake ME marry Polly. That's just what the row's about. That'sjust what he's interferin' for--just to carry out his darned foolideas o' gettin' a wife for me; just his vanity to say HE'S madethe match. It's ME that he wants to marry to that Baxter girl--nothimself. He's too cursed selfish for that."I suppose I was not different from ordinary humanity, for in myunexpected discomfiture I despised Captain Jim quite as much as Idid the man before me. Reiterating my remark that I had no desireto mix myself further in their quarrels, I got rid of him with aslittle ceremony as possible. But a few minutes later, when thefarcical side of the situation struck me, my irritation wassomewhat mollified, without however increasing my respect foreither of the actors. The whole affair had assumed a trivialitythat was simply amusing, nothing more, and I even looked forward toa meeting with Captain Jim and HIS exposition of the matter--whichI knew would follow--with pleasurable anticipation. But I wasmistaken.One afternoon, when I was watching the slanting volleys of raindriven by a strong southwester against the windows of the hotelreading-room, I was struck by the erratic movements of a drippingfigure outside that seemed to be hesitating over the entrance tothe hotel. At times furtively penetrating the porch as far as thevestibule, and again shyly recoiling from it, its manner was sostrongly suggestive of some timid animal that I found myselfsuddenly reminded of Captain Jim and the memorable evening of hisexodus from Eureka Gulch. As the figure chanced to glance up tothe window where I stood I saw to my astonishment that it WASCaptain Jim himself, but so changed and haggard that I scarcelyknew him. I instantly ran out into the hall and vestibule, butwhen I reached the porch he had disappeared. Either he had seen meand wished to avoid me, or he had encountered the object of hisquest, which I at once concluded must be Lacy Bassett. I was somuch impressed and worried by his appearance and manner, that, inthis belief, I overcame my aversion to meeting Bassett, and evensought him through the public rooms and lobbies in the hope offinding Captain Jim with him. But in vain; possibly he hadsucceeded in escaping his relentless friend.As the wind and rain increased at nightfall and grew into atempestuous night, with deserted streets and swollen waterways, Idid not go out again, but retired early, inexplicably haunted bythe changed and brooding face of Captain Jim. Even in my dreams hepursued me in his favorite likeness of a wistful, anxious, anduneasy hound, who, on my turning to caress him familiarly, snappedat me viciously, and appeared to have suddenly developed a snarlingrabid fury. I seemed to be awakened at last by the sound of hisvoice. For an instant I believed the delusion a part of my dream.But I was mistaken; I was lying broad awake, and the voice clearlyhad come from the next room, and was distinctly audible over thetransom."I've had enough of it," he said, "and I'm givin' ye now--thisnight--yer last chance. Quit this hotel and that woman, and goback to Gilead and marry Polly. Don't do it and I'll kill ye, ezsure ez you sit there gapin' in that chair. If I can't get ye tofight me like a man,--and I'll spit in yer face or put some insultonto you afore that woman, afore everybody, ez would make a biggerskunk nor you turn,--I'll hunt ye down and kill ye in your tracks."There was a querulous murmur of interruption in Lacy's voice, butwhether of defiance or appeal I could not distinguish. CaptainJim's voice again rose, dogged and distinct."Ef YOU kill me it's all the same, and I don't say that I won'tthank ye. This yer world is too crowded for yer and me, LacyBassett. I've believed in ye, trusted in ye, lied for ye, andfought for ye. From the time I took ye up--a feller-passenger to'Fresco--believin' there wor the makin's of a man in ye, to now,you fooled me,--fooled me afore the Eureka boys; fooled me aforeGilead; fooled me afore HER; fooled me afore God! It's got to endhere. Ye've got to take the curse of that foolishness off o' me!You've got to do one single thing that's like the man I took yefor, or you've got to die. Times waz when I'd have wished it foryour account--that's gone, Lacy Bassett! You've got to do it forME. You've got to do it so I don't see 'd--d fool' writ in theeyes of every man ez looks at me."He had apparently risen and walked towards the door. His voicesounded from another part of the room."I'll give ye till to-morrow mornin' to do suthin' to lift thiscurse off o' me. Ef you refoose, then, by the living God, I'llslap yer face in the dinin'-room, or in the office afore them all!You hear me!"There was a pause, and then a quick sharp explosion that seemed tofill and expand both rooms until the windows were almost liftedfrom their casements, a hysterical inarticulate cry from Lacy, theviolent opening of a door, hurried voices, and the tramping of manyfeet in the passage. I sprang out of bed, partly dressed myself,and ran into the hall. But by that time I found a crowd of guestsand servants around the next door, some grasping Bassett, who waswhite and trembling, and others kneeling by Captain Jim, who washalf lying in the doorway against the wall."He heard it all," Bassett gasped hysterically, pointing to me."HE knows that this man wanted to kill me."Before I could reply, Captain Jim partly raised himself with aconvulsive effort. Wiping away the blood that, oozing from hislips, already showed the desperate character of his internal wound,he said in a husky and hurried voice: "It's all right, boys! It'smy fault. It was ME who done it. I went for him in a meanunderhanded way jest now, when he hadn't a weppin nor any show todefend himself. We gripped. He got a holt o' my derringer--yousee that's MY pistol there, I swear it--and turned it agin me inself-defense, and sarved me right. I swear to God, gentlemen, it'sso!" Catching sight of my face, he looked at me, I fancied halfimploringly and half triumphantly, and added, "I might hev knowedit! I allers allowed Lacy Bassett was game!--game, gentlemen--andhe was. If it's my last word, I say it--he was game!"And with this devoted falsehood upon his lips and something of theold canine instinct in his failing heart, as his head sank back heseemed to turn it towards Bassett, as if to stretch himself out athis feet. Then the light failed from his yearning upward glance,and the curse of foolishness was lifted from him forever.So conclusive were the facts, that the coroner's jury did not deemit necessary to detain Mr. Bassett for a single moment after theinquest. But he returned to Gilead, married Polly Baxter, andprobably on the strength of having "killed his man," was unopposedon the platform next year, and triumphantly elected to thelegislature!10 Add Captain Jim's Friend to your library.Return to the Bret Harte library, or . . . Read the next short story; Chu Chu 2ff7e9595c