THE TORCH OF REASON, SILVERTO N, OREGON, TH URSDAY, MARCH 18, 189 i
GOLDEN THRONE
[A ROMANCE BY SAMUEL P. PUTNAM.]
T h at Will keep ’em off our track for
some time; tor, you see, 1 waul you
to meet me at Conscience Pass.
Then you and I will take our way
by the Devil’s Gap, ami in due time
we’ll reach the D utchm an’s K itch en ;
and from there I'll send you Hying
to San Francisco.”
•‘Will there lx? no danger to
yourself?”
'‘None at all. It’s you they are
after. Get rid of you, and we are
all right. Are you ready there?”
“ Yes,” said Bill: “give us the
boy.”
In a moment, the hoy was m oun
ted, and off they started. None too
soon either, lor Jennie Baker came
rushing in.
“ Oh, they are going io lynch
him ’’’ she said. “ Big Dick has got
them all excited. They say you
made Idols of ’em, and they won t
stand ii 1”
“ Well, th ey ’ll have to catch the
hov this time, Jennie. H e’s taken
leg-hail.”
“ Is lie g o n e ? ” said .Jennie.
“ Yes, lie ’s on his way to El
Dorado, and tom orrow night he’ll
he on his way to ’Frisco. ’
“ If they don’t catch h im .’’
“ Well, they’ll h a v e to iu n to c a tc h
him ”
The vellingottt'ideincreased, and
the tram p of men. Big Dick’s
voice could be heard. He was try-
ing to rou-e tin- men, and they
were evidently ready to o h ey him.
The maddened and half-drunken
crowd came reeling up to the door
of C harlie’s cabin.
“ I t’s no use,” said Big Dick.
“ You must give lorn up. W e are
going to hang him .”
“ But you’ve tried him, ami ac
quitted him; and you are not going
hack on that, are you?
“ Yes, we are.
I h a t was a
sh am .”
“ D idn’t you agree to stand by
the tria l? ”
“ Yes, if th ey ’d hang him, hut
not if they acquitted him. T hey’d
no business to acquit him. ’
“ But they hid do it lairly and
s q u a re ly ; and, if you hang the b -y
now, you’ll com m it m u rd er.”
“ I’ll take care of th a t. If it is
m urder, who’ll punish us? Stand
out of the way.
Rut up those
pistols.”
‘•Well, you are too m any for me.
If you m ust come in, come in ami
make yourselves at
home.
h a v e n ’t c h a irs
n
en o u g h
for
o n ly
one.
T hey a ll ru sh e d in.
“ W hy, there’s no boy here!” said
Big Dick.
“ I d id n ’t say there was,” said
C harlie.
“ W here in the devil has he
gone?”
“ H<»me, I guess,” »-aid Charlie,
••lie’s quite a home boy, you know.”
“ H e’s n< t in his own hole, for we
.
“ Yes, you can black hoots, or
keep a peanut stand, or sell flowers.
You’ll w ant some capital, though,
to start w ith; and I'll loan you
som e.”
“ Oh, th an k v” u! I may become
rich, who know s?”
S u n se t ca m e, ami they stopped
good a p p e tite for b re a k fa st. Let us
<1 -m o u n t am i ta k e a h a s ty m eal.’ and rented for a couple of hours,
In a little while, the co th e was and ate their supper.
“ As far as I can judge, we’ve
m a d e , w h ic h , w ith “ hard ta c k ” and
a hit of ham , refreshed them won- about twenty miles to go. The
train is d u q ah o u t four in the m orn
dei fully.
“ We’ve a long journey before u s.” ing. We shall be there bright and
said M o rto n ,—considerably more early. If it is not behind hand, we
than a sab b a th -d ay ’s journey, but are all right. We've several hours
the object is equally as good. I the start of Big Dick.”
They were tired out, and the
guess we’ll fitch it, and before
another m orning you’ll he behind horses were tired, hut in good time
the iron horse, and can say good- th e y arriv ed a t the D u tch m an ’s
K itchen, a queer li’tle sort of place,
by to all pursuers.”
M any a long mile they w< nt at an sluck aw ay am ong the hills, on the
easy gallop. It was a gorgeous line of the railroad th at followed,
day, and the scenery on every hand through the m ountain detiles, the
serpentine course of a river. Gnlv
was most lovely.
‘•W here did you come from ?” two or three houses were there, or
ra th e r ranches and the station-
said Morton.
“ From New Y ork,— from the house. A faint light was b u rning
in the window as they approached
city .'’
“ 1 thought so. Wen* you horn it. The depot-m aster was up and
rubbing his » yes.
there?”
“ I suppose so.
I don’t know
“ Time for the train ?” asked Mor
ton.
much about it.”
“ I t’s two hours behind tim e.”
“ Always lived th ere?”
“ W hew,” said M orton, “ th a t’s a
“ Yes.”
close rub. How far is it from here
“ W here a re y o u r p a r e n ts '” '
to El Dorado?”
“ I don’t know .”
“ \\ hat m ade you come W est?”
“ F o rty m iles.”
“ I wanted to he as far oft from
“ And a had road. I guess we’ll
e u c h r e ’em. T heir ho rses m ust he
the city as I could.”
“ I don’t see how you m a le out to p retty well tired out.”
to
California.
Nevertheless, it was pretty hard
■ come all alone
work to wait two hours for a train ,
H aven’t you anv friends?”
“ No, unless I have an uncle in especially when there was so much
San Francisco.
H e went there danger in delay.
years ami >ears ago. I s h ill try
“ W e'll watch for ’em,” said M or
and find Idin.”
ton; “ and, if they heat the train ,
“ How about this old m an th a t we’ll ru n again.
We can dodge
von s iw? Did \o u leally see him?” round pretty well am ong these
hills.
“ I d id .”
“ W hat did he look like?”
The glorious sun came shining
“ Oh, 7 dreadful!
Dark, 7 bushy v | over the hills, and the D utchm an’s
d e file .
“ Di<l you see a n y th in g ? ” said eyebrows; thick heard; a stooping K itchen looked resplendent, filled
hack; long arm s; big hands; anti he with all sorts of spark lin g jewels
M- Tton.
had ¡in old gray, d irty suit on.”
tossed from the hills round about.
“ I th o u g — h t I di<l.” said the b »y.
*
“ Did you ever see him before?”
“ I th in k I ’d like to live here,”
“ I was irigutened.”
“ Oh, yes, in New York city,— said Pete, “ oulv I'd be afraid that
“ W ell, if there was an y th in g , it’s
ru n o ff. I guess you are tired
I ’d and th a t’s what frightened me so. old m an m ight come round, and
I used to meet him there.”
then I should have to run ag ain .”
ca try you to the horses.”
“ Anti you w anted to fly away
“ Yes, this would he a com fort
Morton took the shrinking fellow
able place,” said C harlie. “ You
in nis strong arm s, and p u t n im from him?”
i es.
and I could live quite nicely to
upon the horse’s back.
“ S trange we couldn’t find him. gether. We could h u n t an d fish
“ You can ride, can’t you?”
“0 ■, yes,” said Pete, ‘ ami as W hat could have become of him?” and have a patch of potatoes.”
“ I hope we sh an ’t meet him ,”
“ T hat would he nice,” said Pete.
fast as you can go.”
“ We’ll arrange that some time.
“ Wc’.t have to walk Ihr a spell, s a id F e te .
“ I wish we could meet him , anti Let me hear from you when you
until we get through the pass
settle this m ystery. Have you any are safe and sound in ’Frisco.”
Then we can go like the w ind.”
“ I’ll get somebody to write and
Th-y picked their wav slowly notion what you wili do?”
“ Only to get ¡»wav. I su p p o se I tell you all about m y fortune. I
along am id the overhanging rocks
d o n ’t want to lose you.”
that cam e so close together, at sh a n ’t starve.”
“ I guess not. There is alw ays ar
“ Nor I von,” said C harlie. “ I
times, that it seemed impossible to
proceed; but, alw ays, tin* path way to get a hit»-, even if we have really have taken a liking to you,
though you a r e a poor devil. I be
wound ah»eg, am i somehow there to steal.”
“ I d o n ’t lik e to s te a l.”
lieve you m ight am ount to some
was a narrow passage still opening
“ I’m glad of th at. I was afraid thing, if you had ad van tag es.”
io the ad v en tu ro u s foot. Only one
But you can work,
“ I hope so,” said Pete.
could pass at a tim e, and frequently you would.
“ Don’t give up. There’s always
the trav ellers weie o b lig 'd to dis even if you are little.”
“ Indeed I can. I can do lots of a chance.”
m ount. F in ally , they reached a
“ Perhaps so, hut it’s mighty hard.
broad a »1 open space, that spread th in g s.”
looked there as we came along.
By God, he’s e.-caped!”
“ I gue^s he ha« then, and really I
don’t blame him ’
“ W hich way’s he gone?”
“ I can’t >av for certain, but I
think lie ’.- gone to El Dorado.
Billie and Padd'e and .Jimmy have
gone th at way. I shouldn't won
der if little Pete went, too; for I
heard hill) say s anething about
going to Frisc-
“ Damn it, the bird has flown!”
said Dick.
“ Well, if ' h a t ’s so,
we’ll cateh him . Plenty of chance'
between her ■ and El Dorado, and
p len tv of good tre» s all along.’
'flout there was m ounting in hot
haste. In fifteen m inutes, a com
pany of a hundred was ready; and,
as C harlie sat calm ly s u c k in g in
his cabin, lie heard ihe th u n d er of
their quick t ’am p as they went
dashing from the settlem ent.
C hapter X.
The ti onient ’he sounds of the
pnr-uing party died upon the ear.
Morton left hi- eahin, and prepared
at once to start. He was soon at
Conscience Pass, w ailing for the
boy. It was about m idnight; and
everything around him was per
fectly still, save the dash of waters
and the slight ru stle of the tre» s.
The tall cliffs loomed up into the
glittering m oonlight, at.d the d a rk
ness of the retreating valley was
pierced with a thousand silver
shafts.
He listened for every
j sound. He dreaded lest som ething
should happen, a lid his plans prove
of no avail. The hoy m ight he lost.
lor it was a somewhat difficult path
from one trail to the o th -r. He
tied his horse, a td walked im p a
tien tly i" the direction w lvnee the
little fugitive would come
He had
not gone far, when he heard the
report of a pistol. He was soon at
the hoy’s sid'*, who stood tr» lidding,
just at the opening of an immense
far toward the west. By m orning,
tliev had traversed m any a mile.
How beautifully the light came
d a r n i n g o v e r th e hills and the
rockv defiles and green plains and
rushing livulets!
“ H ere’s a nice sp o t, a n d I ’ve a