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    Chapter XLI

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    Chapter 45
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    Captain Nye was very ill indeed, with spasmodic rheumatism. But the old
    gentleman was himself--which is to say, he was kind-hearted and agreeable
    when comfortable, but a singularly violent wild-cat when things did not
    go well. He would be smiling along pleasantly enough, when a sudden
    spasm of his disease would take him and he would go out of his smile into
    a perfect fury. He would groan and wail and howl with the anguish, and
    fill up the odd chinks with the most elaborate profanity that strong
    convictions and a fine fancy could contrive. With fair opportunity he
    could swear very well and handle his adjectives with considerable
    judgment; but when the spasm was on him it was painful to listen to him,
    he was so awkward. However, I had seen him nurse a sick man himself and
    put up patiently with the inconveniences of the situation, and
    consequently I was willing that he should have full license now that his
    own turn had come. He could not disturb me, with all his raving and
    ranting, for my mind had work on hand, and it labored on diligently,
    night and day, whether my hands were idle or employed. I was altering
    and amending the plans for my house, and thinking over the propriety of
    having the billard-room in the attic, instead of on the same floor with
    the dining-room; also, I was trying to decide between green and blue for
    the upholstery of the drawing-room, for, although my preference was blue
    I feared it was a color that would be too easily damaged by dust and
    sunlight; likewise while I was content to put the coachman in a modest
    livery, I was uncertain about a footman--I needed one, and was even
    resolved to have one, but wished he could properly appear and perform his
    functions out of livery, for I somewhat dreaded so much show; and yet,
    inasmuch as my late grandfather had had a coachman and such things, but
    no liveries, I felt rather drawn to beat him;--or beat his ghost, at any
    rate; I was also systematizing the European trip, and managed to get it
    all laid out, as to route and length of time to be devoted to it--
    everything, with one exception--namely, whether to cross the desert from
    Cairo to Jerusalem per camel, or go by sea to Beirut, and thence down
    through the country per caravan. Meantime I was writing to the friends
    at home every day, instructing them concerning all my plans and
    intentions, and directing them to look up a handsome homestead for my
    mother and agree upon a price for it against my coming, and also
    directing them to sell my share of the Tennessee land and tender the
    proceeds to the widows' and orphans' fund of the typographical union of
    which I had long been a member in good standing. [This Tennessee land
    had been in the possession of the family many years, and promised to
    confer high fortune upon us some day; it still promises it, but in a less
    violent way.]

    When I had been nursing the Captain nine days he was somewhat better,
    but very feeble. During the afternoon we lifted him into a chair and
    gave him an alcoholic vapor bath, and then set about putting him on the
    bed again. We had to be exceedingly careful, for the least jar produced
    pain. Gardiner had his shoulders and I his legs; in an unfortunate
    moment I stumbled and the patient fell heavily on the bed in an agony of
    torture. I never heard a man swear so in my life. He raved like a
    maniac, and tried to snatch a revolver from the table--but I got it.
    He ordered me out of the house, and swore a world of oaths that he would
    kill me wherever he caught me when he got on his feet again. It was
    simply a passing fury, and meant nothing. I knew he would forget it in
    an hour, and maybe be sorry for it, too; but it angered me a little, at
    the moment. So much so, indeed, that I determined to go back to
    Esmeralda. I thought he was able to get along alone, now, since he was
    on the war path. I took supper, and as soon as the moon rose, began my
    nine-mile journey, on foot.

    Even millionaires needed no horses, in those days, for a mere nine-mile
    jaunt without baggage.

    As I "raised the hill" overlooking the town, it lacked fifteen minutes of
    twelve. I glanced at the hill over beyond the canyon, and in the bright
    moonlight saw what appeared to be about half the population of the
    village massed on and around the Wide West croppings. My heart gave an
    exulting bound, and I said to myself, "They have made a new strike to-
    night--and struck it richer than ever, no doubt." I started over there,
    but gave it up. I said the "strick" would keep, and I had climbed hill
    enough for one night. I went on down through the town, and as I was
    passing a little German bakery, a woman ran out and begged me to come in
    and help her. She said her husband had a fit. I went in, and judged she
    was right--he appeared to have a hundred of them, compressed into one.
    Two Germans were there, trying to hold him, and not making much of a
    success of it. I ran up the street half a block or so and routed out a
    sleeping doctor, brought him down half dressed, and we four wrestled with
    the maniac, and doctored, drenched and bled him, for more than an hour,
    and the poor German woman did the crying. He grew quiet, now, and the
    doctor and I withdrew and left him to his friends.

    It was a little after one o'clock. As I entered the cabin door, tired
    but jolly, the dingy light of a tallow candle revealed Higbie, sitting by
    the pine table gazing stupidly at my note, which he held in his fingers,
    and looking pale, old, and haggard. I halted, and looked at him. He
    looked at me, stolidly. I said:

    "Higbie, what--what is it?"

    "We're ruined--we didn't do the work--THE BLIND LEAD'S RELOCATED!"

    It was enough. I sat down sick, grieved--broken-hearted, indeed. A
    minute before, I was rich and brimful of vanity; I was a pauper now, and
    very meek. We sat still an hour, busy with thought, busy with vain and
    useless self-upbraidings, busy with "Why didn't I do this, and why didn't
    I do that," but neither spoke a word. Then we dropped into mutual
    explanations, and the mystery was cleared away. It came out that Higbie
    had depended on me, as I had on him, and as both of us had on the
    foreman. The folly of it! It was the first time that ever staid and
    steadfast Higbie had left an important matter to chance or failed to be
    true to his full share of a responsibility.

    But he had never seen my note till this moment, and this moment was the
    first time he had been in the cabin since the day he had seen me last.
    He, also, had left a note for me, on that same fatal afternoon--had
    ridden up on horseback, and looked through the window, and being in a
    hurry and not seeing me, had tossed the note into the cabin through a
    broken pane. Here it was, on the floor, where it had remained
    undisturbed for nine days:

    "Don't fail to do the work before the ten days expire. W.
    has passed through and given me notice. I am to join him at
    Mono Lake, and we shall go on from there to-night. He says
    he will find it this time, sure. CAL."

    "W." meant Whiteman, of course. That thrice accursed "cement!"

    That was the way of it. An old miner, like Higbie, could no more
    withstand the fascination of a mysterious mining excitement like this
    "cement" foolishness, than he could refrain from eating when he was
    famishing. Higbie had been dreaming about the marvelous cement for
    months; and now, against his better judgment, he had gone off and "taken
    the chances" on my keeping secure a mine worth a million undiscovered
    cement veins. They had not been followed this time. His riding out of
    town in broad daylight was such a common-place thing to do that it had
    not attracted any attention. He said they prosecuted their search in the
    fastnesses of the mountains during nine days, without success; they could
    not find the cement. Then a ghastly fear came over him that something
    might have happened to prevent the doing of the necessary work to hold
    the blind lead (though indeed he thought such a thing hardly possible),
    and forthwith he started home with all speed. He would have reached
    Esmeralda in time, but his horse broke down and he had to walk a great
    part of the distance. And so it happened that as he came into Esmeralda
    by one road, I entered it by another. His was the superior energy,
    however, for he went straight to the Wide West, instead of turning aside
    as I had done--and he arrived there about five or ten minutes too late!
    The "notice" was already up, the "relocation" of our mine completed
    beyond recall, and the crowd rapidly dispersing. He learned some facts
    before he left the ground. The foreman had not been seen about the
    streets since the night we had located the mine--a telegram had called
    him to California on a matter of life and death, it was said. At any
    rate he had done no work and the watchful eyes of the community were
    taking note of the fact. At midnight of this woful tenth day, the ledge
    would be "relocatable," and by eleven o'clock the hill was black with men
    prepared to do the relocating. That was the crowd I had seen when I
    fancied a new "strike" had been made--idiot that I was.

    [We three had the same right to relocate the lead that other people had,
    provided we were quick enough.] As midnight was announced, fourteen men,
    duly armed and ready to back their proceedings, put up their "notice" and
    proclaimed their ownership of the blind lead, under the new name of the
    "Johnson." But A. D. Allen our partner (the foreman) put in a sudden
    appearance about that time, with a cocked revolver in his hand, and said
    his name must be added to the list, or he would "thin out the Johnson
    company some." He was a manly, splendid, determined fellow, and known to
    be as good as his word, and therefore a compromise was effected. They
    put in his name for a hundred feet, reserving to themselves the customary
    two hundred feet each. Such was the history of the night's events, as
    Higbie gathered from a friend on the way home.

    Higbie and I cleared out on a new mining excitement the next morning,
    glad to get away from the scene of our sufferings, and after a month or
    two of hardship and disappointment, returned to Esmeralda once more.
    Then we learned that the Wide West and the Johnson companies had
    consolidated; that the stock, thus united, comprised five thousand feet,
    or shares; that the foreman, apprehending tiresome litigation, and
    considering such a huge concern unwieldy, had sold his hundred feet for
    ninety thousand dollars in gold and gone home to the States to enjoy it.
    If the stock was worth such a gallant figure, with five thousand shares
    in the corporation, it makes me dizzy to think what it would have been
    worth with only our original six hundred in it. It was the difference
    between six hundred men owning a house and five thousand owning it. We
    would have been millionaires if we had only worked with pick and spade
    one little day on our property and so secured our ownership!

    It reads like a wild fancy sketch, but the evidence of many witnesses,
    and likewise that of the official records of Esmeralda District, is
    easily obtainable in proof that it is a true history. I can always have
    it to say that I was absolutely and unquestionably worth a million
    dollars, once, for ten days.

    A year ago my esteemed and in every way estimable old millionaire
    partner, Higbie, wrote me from an obscure little mining camp in
    California that after nine or ten years of buffetings and hard striving,
    he was at last in a position where he could command twenty-five hundred
    dollars, and said he meant to go into the fruit business in a modest way.
    How such a thought would have insulted him the night we lay in our cabin
    planning European trips and brown stone houses on Russian Hill!
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