The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Slave of the Mine; Or, Jack Harkaway in 'Frisco, by Bracebridge Hemyng.

"Well, I should smile if you didn't. Luck's dead sot in for you now, you can bet."

"No. I flatter myself I know when to stop. I have played at Baden and Monaco, in the clubs of London and the hells of Paris, as well as the gambling saloons of the West, and I'm not to be picked up for a flat."

"That's sure; but look at here; as sure as my name is Dan Markham, and I'm known as a profesh at gambling from here to Cheyenne and Virginia City, and lettin' alone Omaha, you're wrong."

"My friend, fortune is within your grasp. Play on the ace and copper the jack, I tell you," replied Dan Markham.

With this quiet answer the first speaker piled up his checks and received an equally large pile of gold twenty-dollar pieces, which he placed in an inside pocket of his coat. Then he laughed harshly.

"I don't know why I do this sort of thing," he remarked. "It isn't because I want the money."

The lucky player rose from his seat and the game went on, there being a dozen or more men present who were intent upon it.

Slowly and solemnly the dealer took the cards out of the box, and with equal solemnity the players moved their checks as their fancy dictated.

The first speaker was a man of a decided English cast of countenance, and the profusion of side whiskers which he wore strengthened his Britannic look.

He was well dressed, handsome, though somewhat haggard, as if he suffered from want of sleep, or had some cankering care gnawing at his heart.

A gold ring, set with turquoise and diamonds, sparkled on his finger, and his watch chain was heavy and massive. The gambler was probably forty years of age, which was ten or twelve more than his companion, and his face bore traces of drink and dissipation; but there was a shrewd, good-natured twinkle in his eye which showed that he was not a bad-natured man in the main. In reality, Dan Markham was known all over the Pacific Slope as a good fellow.

Retiring to the lower end of the room, the first speaker accepted a glass of wine which was handed him by a negro waiter who attended on the supper-table.

"Just this: I know why a man plays, even though he's well fixed and has got heaps of shug."

"Yes, Mr.—er—Mr." continued Markham, imitating his companion's tone in rather a mocking manner.

"All right, Smith; you play because you want the excitement. That's the secret of it. You've got no home."

"Exactly. If a man's got a home, and the comforts, and the young ones, and in fact all that the word implies, he don't want to go to a gambling-saloon. No, sir. It's fellows like you and me that buck the tiger."

"Don't I, by gosh? It's me, and fellows like me, that keep this saloon a-going, and that keeps you."

Pete made no reply, but opened a new bottle and handed the gambler a glass of the sparkling wine.

"Doesn't it strike you, my friend," he said, "that you are a trifle inquisitive?"

"Then all I have to say is that it is a mighty unpleasant way, and I don't like it for a cent."

"Then you can lump it," replied Dan Markham, lighting a cigar and staring him in the face.

Mr. Smith evidently did not want to have a quarrel, for he walked away and strolled through the rooms, of which there were four.

These rooms were elegantly furnished, provided with sofas and easy-chairs. On the tables were all the best periodicals and magazines, so that frequenters of the gambling-house could while away their time without actually playing.

But the tables possessed a fascination which Smith, as he called himself, could not resist.

He strolled back to the faro game and watched the play, which kept on incessantly.

When one player fell out, another took his place, and so it went on, all night long, till the garish streaks of the gray dawn stole in through the shades of the windows, and the men who turned night into day thought it prudent to go home.

A young and handsome man attracted Mr. Smith's attention. He was well dressed, and had an air of refinement about him. His eyes were bloodshot and his face haggard. His hands clutched the chips nervously, and he was restless, feverish and excited.

He pushed the clustering chestnut locks from his fair brow, and watched the cards as they came out with an eagerness that showed he took more than an ordinary interest in the game.

He lost almost every time, and when he tried to make a "pot" to recoup himself, it was all the same—the wrong card came out.

With a sigh he rose from the table, and with bowed head and bent back, his eyes lowered and his face wearing an expression which was the embodiment of despair, he walked away.

At this juncture he encountered Dan Markham, who had been paying his respects to some boned turkey, and making a very respectable supper.

The professional gambler can always eat and drink, the fluctuations of the game having very little effect on his appetite.

"As you see," replied the young man, whose feminine cast of countenance justified the epithet of "Baby" which the gambler had bestowed upon him.

"Because I couldn't. It was here that I took the first downward step, and to-night I have taken the last."

"Not a drop; but it is time I did. My lips are parched and dry. I am on fire, brain and body. Is this a foretaste of the hereafter in store for me?"

"Yes, I was weak-minded to trust you. I was a fool to listen to your rose-colored stories about fortunes made at a faro-bank."

During this conversation Mr. Smith was leaning against the wall, half concealed in the shadow, and smoking a cigar, while he was ostensibly engaged in jotting down some memoranda with a pencil on a scrap of paper, yet not a word was lost upon him.

"You can bully me as much as you please, Dan Markham!" exclaimed Clarence Holt. "But I warn you that I am getting tired of it."

"Yes, on the terms you did before," replied Clarence Holt, bitterly. "You have made me forge the name of the manager of the bank in which I am employed to the extent of three thousand dollars."

"Why not? Are you not already a forger? I hold three notes of Mr. Simpson, the manager of the Bank of California, which he never signed, though you did it for him; and if those notes are presented for payment you will go right up to the State Prison at Stockton quicker than railroading."

He was, indeed, in the power of this man, and, struggle as he could, he was unable to extricate himself.

Mr. Smith gathered from this conversation that Dan Markham had got the young man in his power with some object in view.

Clarence Holt was a clerk in the Bank of California, and had forged the name of Mr. Simpson, the manager, to the extent of three thousand dollars, Markham holding the forged notes.

"Pardon me," said he. "Did I understand you to say that you are anxious to sell some notes?"

"Oh! it's you, Mr. Smith," replied Markham. "If you've got six thousand dollars to throw away on security which is only worth three, we can deal. I want to go to Sacramento to-morrow, and I'll sell out."

"I have overheard the entire conversation," said Mr. Smith, "and I sincerely commiserate this young man, who has fallen into the hands of a sharper!"

Markham produced a wallet which was filled with papers and bills, among which he searched until he found the documents of which he was in want.

"Here you are," he exclaimed. "I'd like to find a fool like you every day in the week."

Laughing heartily at his own joke, Markham handed over the notes and received the six thousand dollars in exchange.

"Thank you," he added, and extending his hand to Clarence Holt, he said: "Good-by. Take my advice. It's straight. Never bet on a card again."

Nodding carelessly to Mr. Smith, he knocked the ash off his cigar and left the room.

"But you have saved me," said Clarence. "You are a whole-souled, generous-hearted man. Give me the forged notes, that I may tear them up, begin again, and, leading a new life, bless you for ever."

"Simply that I am not your friend, and that I have not done anything of a particularly generous nature."

"Really, sir," said Clarence, "I am at a loss to understand you. I took you for a gentleman who, having by accident overheard a conversation which was not intended for his ears, endeavored to atone for his conduct by doing what lay in his power to help——"

"If you had I would not allow you to gratify your inclination. Mr. Markham has handed you over to me, and I have bought you."

"Yes; I like to buy men. It is a fancy of mine. I find them useful occasionally."

A card containing an address in Mission Street was handed to him, and, glancing carelessly at it, he put it in his pocket.

"Oh! well, in that case I should go to the bank and show the authorities the notes I have bought. I presume they would see that you were punished, and taken care of for a year or two."

"Oh! have I come to this?" he cried. "Would to God I had taken my dear wife's advice and never gambled!"

"The most divine creature you ever saw. I suppose I am a partial judge, and that my opinion is not to be relied on; but I assure you, sir, that no artist or poet ever conceived so lovely a specimen of womanhood as my darling Elise."

"One little girl. But allow me to explain. I came here with my month's salary to try and make money enough to pay off Markham, who has been my ruin. Now I have not a dollar to go home with, and how we are to live I do not know."

"I give them to you. What is the use of lending money to a pauper? I give this to you just as I would give an alms to a beggar."

"There is no necessity for me to be silver-tongued with you," was the reply. "Go home to your wife. I will call and see you soon."

Mr. Smith threw himself into a chair, and appeared to take no further notice of Clarence, but he was seated in a manner which permitted him to have a good view of the gambling-table.

At first Clarence Holt hurried toward the door, as if full of virtuous resolution to return home.

Then he paused, and turned off toward the lunch table, where he ate a little salad and drank some wine.

They were amply sufficient to live upon for a month; but if he could only double them!

"What time is it?"—he looked up at the clock—"only eleven!" Elise, his little wife, has got the baby to sleep by this time and is probably reading, while eagerly expecting his return home. Another hour will make no great difference.

"I knew it. Score one to me again for having some knowledge of character. He is a weak man and easily led. So much the better for me."

Presently a lady, thickly vailed, entered the saloon and looked timidly around her.

Seldom, indeed, was a lady seen in the saloon, for it is not the custom for the fair sex to gamble in America, whatever they may do in Europe.

"Plenty ob gen'elmen come and go all night. It's as hard as de debble to find any one in dese ar rooms."

"He is my husband. Perhaps you know him. His name is Clarence Holt," continued the lady.

"Then I implore you to tell me if he is here. Where is the room in which they play?"

"No place for ladies, dat; besides, Marse Holt him been gone an hour or more with Marse Markham."

She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed, while the negro held the door open.

Suddenly there was a loud cry from the inner room, in which the game was progressing.

"'Tis he!" she cried. "Wretch, you have deceived me. Stand on one side. I heard my husband's voice, and I will see him."

She pushed past the negro, who would fain have stopped her had he been able to do so, but her movements were too quick for him to intercept her.

"This is becoming decidedly interesting," observed Mr. Smith; "Elise has come after Clarence. By Jove!" he added, as she raised her vail, "she justifies his description of her. A prettier creature I never saw!"

The luck had changed, and Clarence had been fortunate enough to win largely, as a pile of gold by his side fully testified.

"I was so lonely. I found a note from Markham appointing a meeting here, and I knew you had your salary with you. We have no food in the house, and——"

"Confound you!" he interrupted, almost fiercely. "Do you want every man here to know our private affairs?"

Sadly she turned away. Her tears flowed fast, and so broken-hearted was she that she did not bestow one glance at the feverish and excited face of her erring and misguided husband.

"Madame," he exclaimed, "permit me to have the honor of escorting you to your carriage."

"Oh, sir," she exclaimed, blushing, "it would not be right for me to accept a favor from a perfect stranger."

"Is that so? Well, if you know Clarence, will you not persuade him to come home?"

Elise did not hesitate any longer, but timidly placed her little delicately-gloved hand on the arm of the handsome stranger, who was so kind and generous.

CHAPTER II.

In the street they saw a carriage, which Mr. Smith hailed, and when it drove up he placed Mrs. Holt inside.

He handed the driver two dollars, and Elise was taken to her apartments in a luxurious style which was entirely new to her.

Mr. Smith returned to the gambling-saloon, much impressed with the modesty and beauty of Elise.

Once again in the gilded saloon of vice he looked in vain for Clarence among the players.

"Yes. He staked his pile on one card, and somehow it didn't come up as he expected."

He walked through the suite of handsomely-furnished rooms to see where Clarence was, because he could not have left the place, or he would have been met on the stairs.

In an inner apartment he saw a sight which startled, though it did not surprise him.

Mr. Smith was a man of the world, whom it was difficult to surprise, as it was part of his education and temperament not to exhibit emotion at anything.

Kneeling before a large mirror, his face pale and haggard beyond expression, was Clarence Holt.

In his right hand he held a pistol, and in his left a photograph of Elise, which he was kissing passionately.

It was a sad picture, and showed to what desperate straits drink and gambling can reduce their votaries.

Suddenly he dropped the picture and placed the muzzle of the pistol to his temple.

"God forgive me," he prayed, "and help the widow and the orphan. Elise, my darling, my life, my all, farewell."

Mr. Smith rushed forward and knocked up his arm, so that at this most critical moment in the young man's career the weapon went off without injuring him, and the ball lodged in the ceiling.

"I have spent your money," he replied. "I repulsed my wife. I am a wretch, unworthy to live."

Mr. Smith interrupted him by allowing to flutter down at his side a one hundred-dollar bill, giving it to him as carelessly as one casts a bone to a dog.

"No, for Elise and your child," was the reply. "Give it to her. A fellow like you deserves nothing but a good thrashing."

"That's what I say," answered Clarence, the old, despairing look coming over him again. "Let me die."

"If you don't leave off whining," he exclaimed, "I shall be strongly tempted to kick you!"

Clarence did not move; he picked up his hat and left the pistol where it had fallen.

"Be a man," continued Mr. Smith. "Don't be afraid of the world and the world won't hurt you."

Humiliated, and with his head in a whirl, Clarence quitted the room, and Mr. Smith re-entered the gambling-saloon, in which was a noisy party of miners who, having come into town with plenty of money, could not resist the fascinations of faro.

They had met in New York, and both had fallen in love with a young lady named Lena Vanhoosen.

Lena's brother Alfred wished her to marry Jack, but her mother, Mrs. Vanhoosen, wished her to espouse the rich nobleman.

The quarrel took place in a well-known up-town resort, and Maltravers had fired a pistol at Jack.

He retreated to San Francisco, and Jack, learning where he had gone, followed him.

His lordship was perfectly collected after the first shock of surprise had passed away, and he did not attempt to escape.

"Not at all. You might have been making a tour of California, but since you have declared that you followed me, may I ask your reason?"

"To bring you to justice for attempting my life, after which I shall marry Miss Vanhoosen."

"So you have gone into the detective business, Mr. Harkaway? I congratulate you," said his lordship, sarcastically.

"Certainly, my lord. I shall be my own police officer, and not give you a chance to run away."

"Thank you; personality seems to be your forte," said Maltravers. "And now let me tell you one thing: I am no child to be arrested by you."

The room, as we have said, was full of rough characters, who were noisy, and inclined to be riotous; wine was flowing freely.

He held out five twenty-dollar gold-pieces in one hand and pointed to Harkaway with the other.

A big man, over six feet high, apparently strong as a horse, with a well-developed biceps muscle, stepped forward.

He had several scars on his face, and had lost one eye, which gave him a ghastly appearance.

Lord Maltravers gave him the gold, and at the same time Jack took a step in advance.

"I'm Nappa Bill," said the man, "and if I can't make you squeal, I want to go home."

"Listen to me," said Harkaway. "This fellow is a notorious murderer, and is wanted in New York."

"New York be darned!" said Nappa Bill. "If he has killed his man, there are lots of us in this room who has done the same thing, and his money is as good to me as any other chap's. Let him go, and then you an' me's got to talk."

Seeing that it would be useless to attempt to arrest his lordship after the turn affairs had taken, Jack relinquished his idea.

Jack was furiously indignant, and burned with rage as he saw his enemy make for the door.

"To oblige you? Oh, dear, no. I rather think not. I shall be glad to meet you at Foster's Cliff House to-morrow at two, if you will promise to come unattended."

"Very well; we can then discuss the situation; for the present, it will be enough to say good-night."

Jack was baffled, and was about to sit down to consider what he should do, when Nappa Bill made a furious lunge at him with a knife.

Seeing the movement, he stepped on one side and escaped being killed by almost a miracle.

"That's good enough. I like to see a man heeled. I'll have more pleasure in cutting you now," answered Nappa Bill.

"Wasn't I paid for it? Why, look at here, I'd scorn to take the man's money and do nothing for it."

Nappa Bill did not want to be asked twice; he accepted the invitation and threw himself upon Jack, who received a slight flesh-wound in his shoulder.

Drawing himself quickly back, he fired a snap-shot at the ruffian, not having time to take aim.

The bullet struck Nappa Bill about the middle of the wrist, and with a fearful oath he allowed his knife to drop on the floor.

"It's all your own fault," replied Jack, coolly. "I did not provoke this contest, as all the gentlemen here present, I am sure, will testify. You have made a little money by your conduct, but I guess it will all go in doctor's bills."

Nappa Bill bound up his injured hand with a napkin, which he snatched from the arm of the negro waiter.

"I'm cornered this time, and I'll own up that you got the best of me, but by thunder, I'll get square with you, colonel, if it takes me all my life."

"You're kind of high-toned, aren't you?" sneered Nappa Bill. "They're all gentlemen where you come from, I should imagine; don't have to work and look around for a living."

"It matters very little who or what I am," replied Jack, "but if you pick me up for a fool you'll find that you never made a greater mistake in your life."

Jack put his pistol back in his pocket, and with a careless laugh quitted the room.

There were several men standing in his way, but they quickly made space for him.

Nappa Bill did not attempt to injure him further. He contented himself with using some strong adjectives, which would not look well in print.

CHAPTER III.

Early on the following day Maltravers presented himself at Clarence Holt's lodgings, on Mission Street.

They both rose and welcomed him, though it was apparent that there was more fear than warmth in their reception.

"Thank you, I am through," replied Clarence, who lost all appetite at the sight of the man who held him in his power; "it is time I started for the bank."

"I will find him another if that should happen," said his lordship. "Can I talk with you alone, Holt?"

"Go, my dear, to your room, and amuse yourself with the news until I am at liberty."

Elise, with an ill grace, quitted the room, wondering what secret business the two men were about to transact.

With the quick instinct of a woman, who is always more or less of a disciple of Lavater, and a judge of male character, she took a dislike to Maltravers when she had a fair opportunity of studying his face.

Not that he was homely. Far from it. He was just the sort of man to fascinate a woman, but there was a lurking devil in his features which betrayed the slumbering fire of wickedness within.

Her husband and Mr. Smith were closeted together for over an hour, when the latter left.

Closing the door, he sank into a chair and wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead.

"Nothing," replied Clarence, evasively. "I have to go out. This evening I shall take you to the theatre."

Her eyes sparkled with pleasure, for it was not often that her husband of late had invited her out.

In happier days they were in the habit of going out together, but now Clarence left her alone with her baby.

He kissed her with some of the old-time tenderness, and the act brought the tears to her eyes.

"Oh, if you would always be like this," she said, "I should begin to feel happy again."

"God grant it. You have been so changed lately, Clarry. I have thought that you had some terrible secret on your mind."

"Mr. Smith, he who was here with you. What were you talking about, and why has he kept you away from your work?"

With a deep-drawn sigh, Elise turned away to hide her tears, which flowed afresh, and Clarence Holt went out.

The brief happiness she had experienced was short-lived, and the heavy sensation which had oppressed her heart clung round it once more.

Clarence sent a note to the bank, excusing his absence on the plea of sickness, and going to a livery stable, hired a wagon and a pair of horses, with which he drove through the Golden Gate Park to Captain Foster's Cliff House.

On his way he looked frequently at a photograph which Maltravers had given him, underneath which was written the name "Jack Harkaway."

When he reached the Cliff House he put his horse under the shed and entered the bar-room.

Jack was already there, smoking a cigar by the window, and looking out at the seals on the rocks in the sea.

Jack took the proffered epistle from his hand, and tearing open the envelope, read the contents, which were as follows:

Presently he was joined by a tall, stout, florid-looking man, well dressed, and apparently well-to-do, who said:

"Really, I don't see how the length of my residence in this country can possibly interest you," said Jack.

"Got to get cured of that. However, if you want an introduction, I'll give it to you. Here's my card."

"Mr. Harkaway, I'm glad to know you," said the captain. "I'm a Forty-niner, and you can bet I'm solid."

"Yes, sir. I own real estate, and I'm interested in a mine. How do you like our climate?"

"They seem quiet, inoffensive-looking creatures as they lie on the rocks basking in the sun."

"I'll bet you wouldn't care to swim out and bring one back," exclaimed Captain Blower.

The captain walked over to a military-looking gentleman, and producing a roll of bills, counted out five hundred dollars.

"I've bet this gentleman, Mr. Harkaway, five hundred that he can't swim out to the rocks and bring back a seal, and I want you to hold the stakes."

"I'll do it. But does the gentleman know that it's the breeding-season, and the seals are dangerous at this time of the year?"

"That doesn't matter!" he exclaimed. "I'm willing to accept the bet. All I want is a bathing-suit and a sharp knife. That's fair, I hope."

"You see that big fellow half way up the biggest rock?" continued Jack, pointing to the sea.

"All right, I'll undertake to bring him back, although I might win the bet by carrying off one of the small seals."

Foster admired his courage, but doubted his ability to carry out his determination.

He took Jack into a bedroom, where he donned a bathing-suit and was given a carving-knife, which was the most formidable weapon they had in the house.

Thus provided he walked down to the seaside by himself, while Foster and Captain Blower, armed with opera-glasses, sat on chairs on the piazza and watched his progress.

Jack was an excellent swimmer, and plunging into the sea, swam rapidly toward the seal-rocks.

The seals, who could be numbered by hundreds, had crept out of the sea and were lying in various places on the rocks, apparently asleep.

Some must have been awake, however, for every now and then a loud bark was heard.

What Captain Foster had said about the seals being dangerous was perfectly true.

They had been bearing young, and were perfectly ready to repel any invasion of their territory.

No one ever interfered with them, as it is a penal offense to shoot them, they being one of the shows of the city.

A pleasant swim of from ten to fifteen minutes' duration brought him to the largest of the three rocks.

To climb up was very difficult, as the seaweed was wet and slippery, it being ebb tide.

One seal attempted to bite him, but a dexterous thrust with his knife gave the sea-lion his death-blow.

With praiseworthy perseverance Jack got up to where the big seal was disporting himself in the rays of the sun.

The animal showed its gleaming tusks and snapped at Jack's leg, missing it by half an inch.

Jack stooped down and tried to stab the huge beast, but his foot slipped, and he rolled over and over until he fell with a loud splash into the sea.

When he rose to the surface, he found himself confronted by a dozen angry seals, and for some time a lively fight ensued.

The sea was stained with blood, and Jack received some bites, more or less severe, but not serious enough to disable him.

At length, by a dexterous thrust, he killed the huge seal he had at first singled out as his prey.

It keeled over, and grasping one of its fins, he dragged it laboriously to the shore, swimming with one hand.

"By thunder!" said Captain Blower, "I reckoned those critters would have chawed him up."

"It's his good luck they did not," replied Mr. Foster, lowering his opera-glass.

"Oh, I don't care for that. A friend of mine, Mr. Smith, gave it me to speculate with," replied Captain Blower, smiling significantly.

"Oh, no, but I happen to be employed by the same gentleman, that is all," answered Clarence; "and all I can say is, if Smith's agents are so numerous, I shouldn't like to be Jack Harkaway."

"Why, no," said Captain Blower. "It would tickle me to death to hold an insurance on his life."

Clarence, after this, drove off, more than ever impressed with the power and resources of his employer.

In time Jack appeared with his captive, which Mr. Foster said he would have stuffed in commemoration of the event.

Jack took a bath, plastered up his bites, and did not feel any the worse for his exploit.

Captain Blower paid the money and hurried away, as if he had other work to attend to.

Jack had ridden over, and calling for his horse, mounted and rode toward the Golden Gate Park.

In it was Captain Blower, who gave utterance to a whoop which would have done credit to a Piute Indian on the war-path.

Jack endeavored to rein him in, but the bridle broke, and he was utterly powerless to control or guide the maddened animal.

The gate of the park was drawing near, and Jack became very nervous, for if he got thrown on the hard road he would be killed.

Fortunately, the horse swerved and dashed across the sand-hills on the left, plowing up to his knees, and greatly diminishing his speed.

At length his rider saw a chance of throwing himself off in a soft place, and did so.

"Lord Maltravers's agents again. I cannot trust that man," he muttered. "It will be best to have him arrested to-night, at the theatre. I do not see why I should keep faith with him."

Mending the rein he walked the horse home, and at the hotel found his two old friends, Mr. Mole and Harvey, whom he had left in New York, and who had just arrived.

Harvey was the bearer of a long letter and many kind messages from Lena Vanhoosen.

It was a great pleasure to Jack to see his friends, to whom he related what had happened since his arrival in San Francisco.

"By all means arrest Maltravers at the theatre to-night," said Harvey, "and put a stop to his intrigues, once for all."

"Suppose I come in at the end of the first act and bring a police officer with me?"

Mr. Mole had gone outside in the corridor, and all at once Jack and Harvey heard a great uproar.

"I can't stand it, Jack," said Mr. Mole. "I'm an old man and my nerves are weak."

"I have only been half a day in San Francisco, and this man whom I was chastising asked me, for the twentieth time, how I liked the climate and what I thought of the seals."

"It may be very funny, but there is a limit to human endurance," replied the professor, shaking his head, dismally.

Mr. Mole retired to his room, evidently laboring under the impression that he had been badly used, and Harkaway went out with Harvey to promenade on Montgomery Street.

CHAPTER IV.

The prima donna of an English Opera Company which had been delighting the town took a benefit.

Soon after the curtain rose Harkaway, in evening dress, sought the seclusion of Box B, to which he was shown by the usher.

Jack entered and bowed to a very pretty young lady, who was no other than Elise Holt.

She had been placed in the box by her husband, who had gone away, telling her that he had a little business to attend to, but would return shortly.

The opera was "Faust," which Elise liked very much, but she did not seem to be paying much attention to Gounod's music.

"I beg your pardon if I am intruding," exclaimed Jack. "I was invited here by a gentleman."

"Oh, sir," she said, "do not think ill of me. I owe a duty to my husband, and also one to you, though you are a stranger to me."

"Really, madam, I am at a loss to understand you," answered Harkaway, in some perplexity.

"I know all. Let me be brief. If I do not make myself understood it is because I am agitated," said Elise. "You are brought here to-night in order to be ruined. Let me beg of you to fly."

"My dear young lady," exclaimed Jack, "I know I am living in the midst of danger, and you said so much that I have the strongest wish to hear more."

They were still standing at the back of the box, so that no one could see them, and the crash of the music prevented their voices from being heard.

"Speak! No one ever regretted telling the truth," said Jack; "and I can see by your face that you are too good a young lady to wish to conceal anything you ought to reveal."

"I will save you, if possible," she said. "Listen. I have heard my husband talking to a stranger. My husband is a clerk in a bank; he has committed forgeries to enable him to gamble. These forgeries are held by Mr. Smith, alias Lord Maltravers, who is your enemy."

"He is gone to the Geysers to make terms with Vasquez, the bandit, to kidnap you."

"You are to be shipped to Rio de Janeiro, where for the remainder of your days you will work as a slave in the diamond mines of Brazil."

"Yes, in this box, and accuse you of flirting with me. He will raise a disturbance. You are to be arrested. The case will be in all the papers to-morrow, and Miss Vanhoosen will be told that you are unfaithful to your vows."

Though Elise spoke quickly, and her story was disconnected in parts, it was, nevertheless, intelligible enough.

"I thank you, very much," said he. "I am a thousand times obliged to you. Good-night."

Jack went to the door of the box and was about to depart, when he saw Elise's handkerchief lying on the floor. Always gallant, and quite a ladies' man, he stooped and picked it up.

He was about to give it to her, when the door of the box opened and Clarence Holt entered.

"You need not continue this farce, sir!" he said, "for you know perfectly well that my name is Harkaway, for you met me at the Cliff House this morning."

"I deny it. I never saw you before in my life, and I want you to be good enough to explain how it is that I find you alone in a private box with my wife?"

"Subterfuges will not avail you, sir," he replied. "This is my wife's handkerchief you hold in your hand. You are a villain and a trickster!"

He raised his fist and knocked Clarence down, which was precisely what that pliant tool of Lord Maltravers wanted.

The attention of the whole house was quickly transferred to the occupants of Box B.

At the same time a newspaper reporter, who had also been told to be on hand, made his appearance.

"Arrest that man!" said Clarence. "I charge him with assaulting me, because I tried to protect my honor."

CHAPTER V.

All Lord Maltravers wanted was the scene in the theatre, the scandal of which could be made into a very pretty story for the newspapers.

Harkaway's escapade, as it would be called, could be sent to Miss Vanhoosen, and her mind be poisoned by reading how Jack was caught in a box at the theatre with another man's wife.

They could not help laughing when they heard how Maltravers had succeeded in tricking him, after all.

"Never mind; there will be no harm done," said the professor. "You can write to Miss Vanhoosen, and your word will go further than anything he can say."

"Of course," continued Jack, "Maltravers will send the papers to Lena, and you all know what women think of anything in print."

"So it is; but what if he carries out the rest of his programme, as the girl in the box described it, and sends our friend Jack to the Brazils?"

The morning papers fully realized Jack's expectations, for they contained full and sensational accounts of the disturbance at the California Theatre.

In vain Jack wrote letters explanatory of the occurrence. The papers would not insert them, so the lie went forth uncontradicted, and Maltravers was triumphant.

While Jack was chewing the cud of bitter reflection, he received a letter bearing the Calistoga postmark.

"If Mr. Harkaway wishes to meet Lord Maltravers, he can find him at the Geysers, in Northern California. Go to Fossville from Calistoga and you will find fresh instructions awaiting you, with Four-in-Hand Foss."

That afternoon they crossed the bay in the steamer, and taking the steam-cars, reached Calistoga by nightfall.

In the morning they were surprised to hear that "Four-in-Hand Foss" was waiting outside their hotel.

He was shown a tall, handsome man, between fifty and sixty years of age, who is well-known to every tourist on the Pacific Slope.

"Well, Mr. Foss," said Jack, after the introduction was effected, "to what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?"

"I heard you had arrived," replied Foss, "and that you intended to visit the Geysers. I own the road over the mountains, and I reckoned I'd drive you myself."

"Then I was told to tell you that you would meet the man you are in search of in the hills."

"Well," said Foss, "he's a fellow I've met around considerable, and he is called Nappa Bill."

"I'm in mourning for a five-hundred dollar horse that died of the glanders, yesterday, and it isn't ten to one that I don't spill you out of the coach before I get you up the hill."

When they had eaten something they got into the stage, which was drawn by six horses.

Foss was the best driver in California, and the way in which he handled a team was quite fascinating to Jack, who could "handle the ribbons" and "tool a pair of tits" as well as the next one.

The distance between Calistoga and Fossville was completed in about twenty-five minutes, the stage rolling about in the most alarming manner.

It was arranged they should stay for lunch, and Mr. Foss indulged in further demonstrations of grief for the five-hundred dollar horse.

At one o'clock they started to ascend the mountains on their way to the Geysers.

Harkaway was perfectly charmed by the magnificent scenery which he saw on all sides.

So engrossed was he in contemplating the wonders of nature that he did not see a man spring out in the middle of the road.

These held blocks of stone in their hands, and when Foss brought his horses to a standstill, they placed the stones behind the wheels to prevent the stage slipping down hill.

They were fully armed with rifles and pistols; knives peeped out of their belts, and their faces wore an air of ferocious determination.

The leader wore his arm in a sling, and Harkaway had no difficulty in recognizing the familiar features of Nappa Bill.

Mr. Mole appeared very indignant and drew a pistol, which he discharged at Nappa Bill.

"Put up your iron, you old fool," he said; "we only want Jack Harkaway out of your crowd, and if we don't have him step down and out, right away, there'll be a circus here, with some dead bodies in it, mighty quick."

"Look at here," replied Foss. "I don't want people to think that I'm in this thing. You give me a message to take to Calistoga for you to this gentleman, Mr. Harkaway, and that's all there is in it."

Just then some one fired from behind, and Harvey fell into the stage with a bullet in his shoulder.

"We are overpowered," he exclaimed. "I do not wish my friends to suffer for my sake."

"This is a civilized State," he said. "You daren't murder me. Let my friends go on, and I will become your prisoner, for I know that there will be such a hue and cry in a day or two that California will be too hot to hold you."

"Jerusalem!" he said, hitting his horses. "Git up thar. That settles it. I didn't count on meeting with Vasquez."

"No hard feelings, old man," cried Vasquez, who had concealed his identity under the name of Nappa Bill.

Harkaway was in the custody of Vasquez and his men, while Mr. Mole, half frightened to death, and Harvey, dangerously wounded, were slowly carried away, it not being in the power of Foss to prevent this consummation.

"My dear sir," replied Vasquez, the celebrated bandit, about whose crimes the whole of California was excited, "I will allow some one else to answer that question."

He had been concealed in the bush hitherto, but directly Jack saw him he recognized Lord Maltravers.

"Mr. Harkaway," said Maltravers, "you have kindly fallen into the little trap I laid for you. It is with great pleasure that I meet you again, and I shall now send you on a trip which will take you to South America."

"I cannot waste time in talking to you. Pray excuse me," interrupted Maltravers.

Lower down in the road a stage was in waiting, and it conveyed the party in two days to the coast.

Vasquez left the ship, and Harkaway was confined in the captain's cabin, where he could amuse himself with books and papers.

Jack now blamed himself for yielding so easily, but he reflected that if he had made any resistance his whole party would have been killed.

Wondering if Harvey was much hurt, and consoling himself with the reflection that his friends knew where to look for him, he lighted a cigar which he found on the table, and waited for Captain Moreland to come to him.

CHAPTER VI.

The ship on which Jack Harkaway was a prisoner took out a general cargo for the Brazils.

The vessel had not been two hours at sea before he requested his presence in his cabin.

Jack was not in an enviable position, nor was he in an amicable frame of mind, but he felt that he was in the captain's power, and it would be advisable for him to treat him with civility.

The colored steward placed a couple of bottles with glasses on the table, as well as a box of cigars, and retired.

"Help yourself," continued Moreland, pushing the box of cigars over to him. "The wine is port and sherry; which do you prefer?"

He now had a good opportunity of looking at Moreland, who was a spare, short man, with reddish hair and small, twinkling eyes, which appeared to have a treacherous expression.

"I wish to have you as my friend and companion during our voyage," began Moreland.

"Well, I admit that I have been paid handsomely by Vasquez, the bandit, to convey you to Rio. He, I believe, was employed by some enemy of yours."

"I shall enjoy your society during the voyage, for I see you are an educated gentleman, and your companionship cannot fail to be agreeable."

"Thank you for the compliment," exclaimed Jack, who could not help thinking that there was something lurking behind this extraordinary civility.

"When you arrive at Rio our intimacy ceases, for I shall discharge cargo, take in another of bags of coffee, and return to 'Frisco."

"It is simple enough. Your enemy wishes to get you out of the way for a time. That is all."

"I heard," said Jack, "that I was, in some mysterious way, to be sent as a slave to the diamond mines."

"Perfectly. My instructions are simply to land you at Rio, and there will end my duty as regards you."

He was forced, however, to be content with the assurance given him by Captain Moreland, and there the conversation ended.

There were plenty of books in the cabin. He messed with Moreland. Everything he wanted was placed at his service, and he really had a very pleasant voyage round Cape Horn.

The captain succeeded in thoroughly gaining his confidence, and he soon voted him an excellent fellow, from whom he would be sorry to part when the time came.

At length Rio was reached, and as Jack was almost without money, Moreland volunteered to advance him some for current expenses, taking in return a sight draft on his agent in San Francisco.

When the ship swung into the dock, and the bills of lading had been given to the consignees, Moreland invited Jack to dine with him.

As they quitted the ship, the captain slipped something into Harkaway's pocket, without the action being perceived.

They walked to the restaurant indicated by Moreland, and Jack's suspicions returned as he saw it was in a low part of the town.

What was his professed friend's object in steering him toward the slums, as he was evidently doing?

"No, but you will be amply compensated, my friend, by the cooking, at the little hotel we are in search of."

"Oh, I comprehend," said Jack. "I am prepared to sacrifice a great deal for artistic cooking."

They soon reached a dingy-looking inn, where the waiters and landlord nodded familiarly to the captain, as if he was an old customer.

The room into which they were ushered was dark and dirty, the table-cloths uninviting, and directly Jack saw the place he had an admonition of coming evil.

"Really," he remarked, "this is as bad as Zola's Assommoir. I can't congratulate you on your taste."

"Wait a while," responded Moreland. "Landlord, a bottle of wine, and the best dinner you can get ready."

"Si, signor," replied the proprietor, who was a swarthy, thick-set, beetle-browed Spaniard.

Being thirsty, he drank heartily of it, while Moreland contented himself with sipping it.

A dizziness began to attack Jack, and a soft, sensuous, dreamy feeling stole over him.

Had he been brought into the place by his kind friend, the captain, to be drugged and betrayed into some carefully set trap?

"I have no watch," replied Jack. "Vasquez kindly relieved me of that trifle in the Nappa Valley."

"I had mine when I left the ship," continued Moreland, "and I have been with no one but you."

"Oh, nothing," answered the captain. "I have to report to the American Consul at three, and it is necessary that I should know the time."

Jack watched him with an abstracted air, while his stupor increased, and it seemed all the time as if it was too much trouble for him to speak.

Some insidious drug had been mixed with the wine, and like the opium-eater, he was seeing and hearing things that did not exist.

Jack endeavored to rise and strike his false friend, but he seemed to have lost all power over his limbs.

Obscured as his intellect was, however, by the drugged wine, he saw that he was the victim of an infamous plot, the depth of which, as yet, he could scarcely gauge.

Moreland had won his confidence to prevent his making a charge of abduction against him on their arrival in Rio.

The officer began to search Jack, who laughed in a half imbecile manner, as if it was a good joke, and made no resistance.

"Yes. I will swear to it. Besides, my name is on the case. It was a present to me. Oh! the ingratitude of some people!"

Jack was dragged rudely from the room to the police court, which was not far off.

A magistrate was sitting on the bench, and Jack soon had a specimen of how swiftly justice is administered in Brazil.

Moreland told his story, stating how he had given the prisoner a passage from San Francisco, and how he had returned his kindness by stealing his watch, while under the influence of liquor.

Jack was more and more under the influence of the drug, whose effects made themselves felt in a greater degree every minute.

He thought he was dreaming, and continued to laugh at what he thought was an excellent joke.

"I shall sentence you to five years' hard labor in the mines!" exclaimed the magistrate.

The jailer took him to a cell and locked him up. He soon fell into a profound slumber, from which he did not awake until the following morning.

Captain Moreland was perfectly satisfied, for he fulfilled his contract with his employer to the letter.

Practically, he was out of the way for five years, during which time Lord Maltravers could prosecute his plans with regard to Miss Vanhoosen.

Perhaps the hardships he would encounter in the mines might enfeeble his magnificent physique, and kill him before his sentence expired.

When Jack woke up in his cell he pressed his hand to his aching head and exclaimed:

"Seems to me," he continued, "I had a dream. Moreland invited me to dine; accused me of stealing his watch. Hang his impudence! I was arrested, and got five years in the mines. Was it a dream?"

A look at the cell convinced him that it was not so much a dream as a terrible reality.

Presently the jailer entered with a suit of convict's clothes and some breakfast.

"No time for that," replied the jailer. "In half an hour the chain-gang starts for the mines, and you are one of them."

"The stolen property was found on you. It is a clear case. An angel could not save you."

"But I assure you, my friend, that I am innocent. It is a base conspiracy of which I am the victim."

"Eat and dress!" said the jailer, harshly. "In half an hour I shall come and fix the chain on you."

With these words he banged to the door with a hollow, sepulchral sound, which to Jack sounded like the knell of doom.

"Well," he muttered, "I must admit it was cleverly done; to repine is useless. I will make the best of the situation. Harvey, if not mortally wounded, will come after me. Thanks to what Elise said, my friends know where I am."

He deliberately ate his breakfast, and then attired himself in the hideous yellow suit of a convict sent to the mines.

Many were the wild tales he had heard of the sufferings in the mines by the poor creatures condemned to toil there.

Yet in the midst of all his misery the fairy-like form of Lena Vanhoosen would come before him.

She seemed to be ever bidding him hope on, and telling him that it is always darkest before dawn.

When the half hour was up the jailer, relentless as fate itself, appeared, and fastened a chain around his ankle.

In the court-yard of the prison twenty unfortunates, similarly situated, were assembled.

They were all chained together, and at the word "March," the gate was thrown open and they slowly filed out.

Part of the journey was performed by railway, the convicts having a special car, but a considerable distance had to be traversed on foot, and this was painful and toilsome.

Every week the ranks of the miners, depleted by sickness and death, were reinforced by fresh batches of criminals.

The government worked the mines for its own benefit, entirely by convict labor, and made a handsome profit out of it, for the labor cost them nothing but what they paid for food, and often diamonds of large size, first water, and great value were found when the mines were reached. The prisoners were detailed to certain sections, and Jack had to work underground with a desperate-looking ruffian whose name was Alfonso.

The most favored prisoners worked above ground, receiving the "dirt" as it came up the shafts, and washing it in the streams which flowed down from the sides of the mountains.

These were watched by overseers, and the diamonds were, when found, handed to superintendents.

The men worked in couples, and were allowed to talk. They had three meals a day of coarse food, and slept in wooden huts at night, laboring from dawn to dusk.

They first picked down the earth or diamond-studded dirt, then shoveled it into the basket, afterward carrying it to the nearest shaft, where it was taken in hand by others, and sent up to the surface.

"That's nothing," continued Alfonso; "I killed my man, and I was sent 'down' for life."

"I tried to escape, but the soldiers, who are always on guard, night and day, saw me and fired. They brought me down. I've the bullet in my leg now."

"The diamond, my lad. I've got the biggest beauty that ever came out of the mines."

"Yes, sir. It's worth a king's ransom. It ought to be in the crown of a royal personage. It's fit for an emperor."

"Magnificent. It's as big as the Koh-i-noor, which is the largest in the world. I shall never get out, though, so what use is it?"

"They shall never have it. No, my lad. It's safe; but I've taken a fancy to you, and if anything happens to me, I want you to know where it is."

The convict bared his right leg and advanced to the lamp which gave them the light by which they were working.

"You never can tell when the overseers come around. They're on the spy all the time."

Alfonso took his hand and placed it on his flesh. Jack felt a lump under the skin.

"Well, they saw it had lodged just under the skin, and the brutes didn't think it worth while to get the doctor to cut it out. A day or two afterward I found the diamond."

"So I takes a knife and cuts it out myself, and seeing there was room for the bullet, I shoved the diamond into the hole and let the skin grow over it and there it is now."

"I'll bet you it did. I suffered the tortures of the damned for weeks, and it hurts now if I strain myself or lie on that side."

"Didn't I tell you I killed my man? Any one who's got pluck enough to slay his enemy and risk the gallows can do anything," answered Alfonso.

"What are you two skulking for?" he asked, exhibiting a rattan, his badge of office.

"Let me alone; I'm a desperate man, and I'd just as soon be dead as working here. Do you understand?"

"I understand that you are threatening me," answered Pedro, "and I shall report you."

This "report" meant fifty lashes on the bare back of the prisoner, delivered publicly before retiring to rest.

This was intended to convey the fact that the punishment would be doubled, and the number of lashes increased to one hundred.

Jack shrank back, for he felt sure that some terrible tragedy was about to take place.

In any case of disobedience reported by the overseers, the convicts were unmercifully flogged with a rawhide, and Alfonso had been treated to that kind of discipline twice during his period of incarceration.

What wonder that a man condemned for life to the most degrading drudgery, who had no hope of a commutation of his sentence, and who could only expect to die in his chains, should rebel when he thought himself persecuted by those in authority over him?

"Bah!" replied Pedro, the keeper, drawing a pistol. "If you were so much as to raise your little finger toward me, I would stretch you a corpse on this floor."

"What should I be doing to let you?" asked Pedro, with a sneer which was peculiarly aggravating.

"For two days in succession, my friend," exclaimed Pedro, who seemed to take a pleasure in tormenting the convict, "you will be flogged in the presence of your companions."

"God!" he cried, uplifting his eyes to the dark rock above him, "my time has come—and his."

Harkaway would have interfered, but he saw that it was useless to make any attempt to separate them.

Pedro discharged his pistol, as he had threatened to do, but Alfonso received the bullet in his left shoulder without flinching. With his right hand he drove the sharp point of his pick into the skull of the keeper.

Again and again the infuriated convict struck him until, in his mad frenzy, he had smashed his skull into a jelly.

"Settled him, any way. There is one mine-boss gone, and the world is rid of another petty tyrant," replied Alfonso.

"I shall solve the great problem, my friend," said the convict, now a double murderer.

He stooped and picked up the pistol which Pedro had allowed to drop from his hand.

"Look here!" exclaimed Alfonso. "I take you to be a sensible man, though young. What have I, a slave, to live for? Is it any pleasure to me to exist, as I have been existing for the last year, since I have been in this infernal place?"

"Not for such as I. Have I not killed this man, almost in self-defense, I may say?"

"Well, if I live a few hours more they will seize me, flog me till I am in a dying condition, and then hang me. Why should I not die now?"

Harkaway could not see any valid reason why he should prolong his miserable and forfeited existence.

"You are right," he said. "It is clear that suicide in your case is an atonement, if not a virtue."

"Comrade," exclaimed Alfonso, "they say that those who are about to die see future events clearly."

"Before long. I congratulate you. Do not forget what I told you about the diamond."

"Cut it out as soon as I am dead, and then give the alarm at the mouth of the shaft."

"I don't know. I can't tell," he replied. "My brain is in a whirl. I hear strange voices ringing in my ears. Angels are talking to me. I am conversing with the spirits of the mighty dead and they bid me come to them."

His troubles and his hard lot had weakened his mind, and he was no longer responsible for his actions.

If he snatched the pistol from his hand, he would run the risk of being shot, and it would be no charity to the poor wretch to save his life in order that, after cruelly torturing him, the authorities at the mines might take it in a few hours.

These were the last words that Alfonso spoke, for he placed the muzzle of the pistol against his right temple and fired.

There was a loud report, which gave out cavernous echoes, a thick smoke, which nearly obscured the light of the lamp, and the murderer fell prostrate over the corpse of the mine boss.

CHAPTER VII.

Lord Maltravers took care that the papers, containing an account of Harkaway's adventure in the private box at the California theatre with Elise Holt should reach Miss Vanhoosen.

It was singular that she could not succeed, however, for she had to confess to herself that she still loved him.

"Perhaps," replied Lena, "though one ought not always to believe what one reads in the papers."

"Oh, because they are untrustworthy nine times out of ten," said Lena, who wished to defend her absent lover, no matter how strong the proofs might be against him.

"How could I, when he has a wife alive? What nonsense you talk, mamma! He killed the poor creature, and if he is ever caught he will be hanged."

"Not at all," answered Mrs. Vanhoosen. "I have had a letter from him, in which he says that he is about to return to England. No one here cares to prosecute him. Who will send after him? Is the district-attorney going to the expense of extraditing him?"

"Really, mamma, I do not know, and I don't care to argue the point with you," said Lena, with a weary air.

"I shall never marry now," answered Lena. "I intend to devote myself to a life of single blessedness."

"I know what you would say," exclaimed Mrs. Vanhoosen. "This man Harkaway, whom you love, has proved himself unworthy of you, as I always said he was, and therefore you close your heart against every one."

"Mamma," said Lena, with sudden energy, "if you taunt me any more I will go into a convent."

"Indeed, you will not. I insist upon you visiting Europe with me again," replied Mrs. Vanhoosen.

"I will disown you; turn you into the street, and you can shift for yourself, ungrateful girl," replied her mother, passionately.

"You expect that I will meet Maltravers and marry him, after all that has occurred?"

"My dear child," continued her mother, "consider all you are losing. If you meet Maltravers in Paris, you can get married, for he has no wife alive now, and go and live in Switzerland, or some quiet place, till this affair has blown over."

At this moment Alfred Vanhoosen, who had been absent in Albany for some little time, entered the room.

His presence was unexpected, but it was as welcome as the flowers in May to Lena, who dearly loved her brother.

"Ailing, my dear," replied Mrs. Vanhoosen. "My head has troubled me very much since you have been away."

"I presume," he exclaimed, "that Lord Maltravers sends you papers for his own purposes."

"Dick Harvey keeps me posted, and I know just what is going on. This is a game of chess between Harkaway and Maltravers, and I am sorry to say that his lordship has won the first two moves in the game."

"Because you are too much of a lady and a Christian to wish to see a scoundrel triumph over an honest man."

Lena read the paragraph which her brother had pointed out to her, and learnt from it some startling facts.

It stated that Harkaway and his friends had been stopped on their way to the Geysers by Vasquez the celebrated bandit, who had been the scourge of California for so long a time.

Harvey had been dangerously wounded, and Jack had been carried off, nobody knew where.

When she had fully mastered the contents of this news item, Lena uttered a loud cry.

"Jack has been captured by bandits," replied Lena. "Oh! what shall I—what ought I to do?"

"Certainly," replied Alfred; "you are our mother, and we are bound to hear you, although I must say that if I were in Lena's place I would go after Jack."

"No, mother, I am not insolent; but the girl loves the man, and what is the use of interfering between them?"

"I don't want to be undutiful or go against the fifth commandment, mother, which tells us, very properly, to honor our father and mother; but, really, you are wrong in this case."

"Mr. Harkaway is an honorable and elegant gentleman in every sense of the word, and by no means a pauper. He can support Lena just as well as you have supported her, and there is no reason why he should not marry her."

"I beg your pardon. Jack is not a man very easy to kill, and I don't think Maltravers will get away with him so easily as he thinks."

"At any rate," continued Alfred, "I will proceed at once to San Francisco and search for him."

"Take me with you," she exclaimed. "I shall die if I stay here. This life is intolerable to me."

Alfred looked at his mother, as if he expected some reproach from that proud, ambitious woman.

She was not really bad-hearted, but she was like so many other mothers in the United States who desire their daughters to marry some man from Europe with a title rather than have one of their own race, or at least, one who has nothing but his face and his character to recommend him.

"You are a thankless child, and your conduct is sharper than a serpent's tooth," said Mrs. Vanhoosen.

"Alas! yes. We cannot live together. There is no sympathy between us. My love calls me far away."

Mrs. Vanhoosen became very angry. Her face flushed. She tried to speak, and failed.

Suddenly she uttered a cry. Something seemed to burst in her throat. She fell to the ground heavily.

A doctor was sent for, and he did all he could for the unhappy woman, but there was internal hemorrhage, and after lingering for three days, she died.

Tho brother and sister were deeply grieved at their mother's death, but they could not blame themselves for her untimely end.

After the funeral, which was largely attended by their numerous friends in New York, they decided to go to California and unravel the mystery which to them attended the fate of Jack Harkaway.

CHAPTER VIII.

Alfonso, the desperate murderer, had effectually put an end to all his earthly sufferings.

Taking a knife with which he was accustomed to eat his dinner, he searched for the spot in the man's leg where he claimed to have hidden the diamond.

The whole story seemed like the delirious ravings of a madman. Cutting away the skin, a hard substance fell out, which Jack picked up.

Holding it to the light, he uttered a cry of surprise, for he saw that he was the possessor of a jewel of the first water and of prodigious size.

This question could not be decided off-hand, so he slipped it in his pocket, with the reflection that he yet had half the day to think the matter out.

A squad of soldiers was ordered up with loaded rifles, and in less time than it takes to tell it the unlucky finder of the stone was dead.

Making his way to the shaft, where he knew a guard was always stationed, Jack went to make his report.

"I worked with convict No. 9, Alfonso by name. Overseer Pedro accused him of shirking his work, and an altercation ensued. Pedro threatened to report him twice. Alfonso attacked him with his pick. A shot was fired; but Pedro was killed."

"Sergeant," he said, "take a file of the guard. Go into that working and verify the truth of this man's statement."

Men who live an uncertain life enjoy an excitement similar to that experienced by gamblers.

Jack did not know whether he would live to see the sun set, and yet he felt more inclined to whistle than cry.

At length the dead bodies were brought out and sent up to the surface in the cage.

On being informed of the tragedy, the governor of the mines held an examination.

Harkaway told his story with such a straightforward, truthful air, that he was instantly believed.

"It wasn't your quarrel, my good fellow," said the governor, "and I do not see how you could have interfered successfully. These affairs must occur in such a population as ours. It was clearly Pedro's own fault for not using his pistol with more celerity and not taking a better aim. You are discharged."

"If I go below I shall see those two men quarreling. It will be enough to drive me crazy, and if I become insane, the State will lose a valuable servant."

"Oh, yes. I had forgotten him. His request is granted. I was thinking of something else. Send up the band of the regiment to my house. I have to entertain two strangers to-day. They come from Rio with letters from the Emperor himself."

The governor went away, and Jack was at once taken to a stream, where, standing up to his waist in water, he washed the dirt in a sieve as it was brought to him in a barrow, from the mouth of the mine, by another convict.

He was about to make an exclamation, when Mr. Mole's foot slipped and he fell into the water.

"Help! I'm drowning!" cried Mole. "Never could swim a stroke in my life, you know. Help me, you clumsy slave, or I'll have you whipped!"

The professor delightedly threw his arms round Jack's neck, and hugged and kissed him with every demonstration of unbounded affection.

They speedily made their way to the bank, and Harvey was as much pleased as Mr. Mole had been.

"One of our best prisoners," he replied. "I am sorry to lose him; but, of course, he is free."

"We lost no time in following you," said Harvey. "My wound was not a dangerous one, and as soon as I got well enough to travel, we were off."

That day Jack, in a new suit of clothes, dined with the governor and his friends.

He kept the diamond, which he had cut in San Francisco afterward, and handsomely set.

They made their way to the city of Rio and took the first steamer for Aspinwall, where they crossed the Isthmus to Panama, and took ship again for 'Frisco.

On their arrival they bought the Chronicle, and Jack read a paragraph in the fashionable intelligence:

"Miss Lena Vanhoosen and Mr. Alfred Vanhoosen are staying at Black's Hotel, in the Yosemite Valley."

That evening they were traveling toward Merced, and the next day they took the stage for the far-famed valley, where they hoped to meet the Vanhoosens.

CHAPTER IX.

The journey by stage to that wonderful valley which the Indians named the Yosemite has been so often described that we will not take up the time of our readers by dwelling on the marvelous scenery of the Sierras.

Stopping for dinner at Mariposa, which is the first resting-place after leaving Merced, where the railway ends, the stage went on to Clark's Station.

About ten miles from the hotel there is the wonderful grove of big trees, to see which is alone worth a journey of three thousand miles.

When they were nearing the hotel they encountered two shepherds, who were walking in great haste.

"He has just attacked the stage coming from Clark's Station. We heard the shots as we were tending our sheep hard by."

"The driver's killed. There were a lady and a gentleman in the stage. They were carried off."

"All right; you go and mind your sheep. The driver of the stage shall turn round and summon the sheriff of Mariposa, while Ed shall guide my friend and myself to the camp of the robbers."

"I'll do it," replied Mole; "for I don't think my poor old legs are strong enough to carry me over hills and over mountains."

Ed, the shepherd, was armed with a pistol, and Jack and Harvey were similarly supplied.

"I've got some cooked mutton and some bread close here," said Ed; "and I guess we ought to take it with us, as we shall be hungry before morning."

Jack made no objection, and having put the provisions in a bag, he slung it over his shoulder.

The stage was in the middle of the narrow roadway and the horses were cropping the rich grass which grew by the side.

Lying on the road was the body of the dead stage-driver, who had been shot through the heart.

Jack saw something white on a seat of the stage, and springing up on the wheel, seized it.

"My dear Dick," replied Jack, "there is somebody besides Vasquez in this outrage."

"Yes, sir, and Vasquez would not want to carry her off unless Lord Maltravers was with him."

"They reckoned without one thing," he exclaimed. "They thought I was still working in the mines of Brazil, and little imagined that Jack Harkaway was on their track."

"There isn't an Indian that can beat me at tracking anything, whether it is man or beast."

"Start right away," said Jack, "and you shall have a hundred dollars if we come up with Vasquez before nightfall."

The shepherd looked carefully around, and soon found the trail, heading off like a bloodhound who had got the scent.

For six miles they toiled up-hill all the way until they reached the vicinity of the big trees.

"Look at this wilderness," said Jack. "Do not these solitary trees give you an idea of grandeur that you never had before?"

A little way off was Vasquez. Near him were Lord Maltravers, Lena, and Alfred Vanhoosen, the two latter with their arms bound behind their backs.

Two men, attendants of Vasquez, guarded the prisoners, who leant disconsolately against the huge trunk of one of the trees.

Maltravers endeavored to restrain him, but he broke from him, and, presenting a pistol at Alfred Vanhoosen, fired.

The two attendant robbers were hit before they could realize that they were in the presence of enemies.

Maltravers saw that resistance was useless, and at the same time he recognized the unpleasant fact that any attempt at escape would be futile.

Lena Vanhoosen held out her hands, which she had separated from the bonds that bound her.

The next moment his pistol exploded, and Lena, the blood flowing from a wound in her breast, fell to the ground.

"Villain and coward!" exclaimed Jack, as he emptied his revolver in the wretch's body.

The shot went wide of the mark, but it struck the shepherd, who was mortally wounded.

Alfred Vanhoosen was dead, so was Vasquez and his two followers, Maltravers was dying, and Lena was in a like condition, while the shepherd would never speak again.

Jack and Harvey went back to the hotel at Clark's Station and sent men for the bodies.

It was long before he forgot his lost love, and for years the name of Lena Vanhoosen was as dear to him as that of Lord Maltravers was hateful.

Transcriber's Notes:

This novel was originally serialized in Frank Leslie's Boys & Girls Weekly from July 5-19, 1879. This text is derived from the original serialization.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SLAVE OF THE MINE; OR, JACK HARKAWAY IN 'FRISCO ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”
• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.
• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.
• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.