Gold Seekers of 49 | Page 9

know your names; and I'm coming 'round again, to see what's what. Half that dust is mine, or I'll make you trouble."
"If he doesn't use it, himself, it will go to his kin, sir," returned Mr. Adams.
"Kin!" snorted the long-nosed man. "He's from the gold fields. Look at that shirt, and those whiskers and boots; and the dust itself tells the tale. As like as not he hasn't any kin, within reach; and if he has, you're a blamed fool to summon 'em. We've got things in our own hands--understand? Think it over. I'll be 'round. Good-night."
"Good-night," they answered. "Open the door for him, Charley," bade Mr. Adams.
With a grunty grumble the long-nosed man passed out into the night. Charley hastened back to look at the unknown again.
From the California gold fields! Think of that! And with two sacks of gold dust! Who could he be? Where was he going in St. Louis? What had he seen and done, in California? But here he lay, in a stupor, with Mr. Adams rubbing his arms and legs, and Mrs. Adams hovering over with the glass and pitcher.

II
HURRAH FOR THE GOLDEN WEST
As the evening wore on the stranger tossed and murmured more and more, until it was evident that he was ill with something graver than mere exposure.
"Charley, I think you'd better go for the doctor," said Mr. Adams, finally, about eight o'clock, after they all had done what they could. "This man's getting no better. He looks as though he might have a fever."
"Yes; that's what I've been thinking, too," nodded Mrs. Adams. "Hurry on, Charley. And if the doctor isn't there leave word for him to come as soon as he can."
Out into the cold again, and into the darkness as well, bolted Charley, donning cap and scarf and mittens as he went. The adventure was growing more exciting. What a shame if the man should not recover and they would have to guess all about him!
Old Doctor Paulis, the Adams family doctor, lived but three blocks away, and through the snow and the night Charley ran the whole distance. The doctor said that he'd be along immediately, or as soon as he had finished his supper; and arrive he did, when Charley had been home only a few minutes.
He examined the stranger very carefully.
"It's a case of fever--a kind probably contracted on the Isthmus or on shipboard, if he returned that way," at last pronounced the doctor. "I'm afraid, after his exposure to the cold, that I may not pull him through; but I'll do what I can. Meantime if you can get in communication with any of his relatives or friends, you'd better do so."
The doctor left a quantity of medicine, to be given at such frequent intervals that somebody must be up all night. However, Charley went to bed and slept, and dreamed that the mysterious stranger was sitting on the sofa and was telling them that in California gold dust was shaken from the trees and shoveled into flour-sacks.
But the mysterious stranger was by no means sitting up, when after breakfast Charley saw him. He was quieter, to be sure, and he seemed to be partially conscious; he even appeared to recognize Charley; still, he was terribly weak.
It was Charley's turn to stay with him. Mrs. Adams went out to do some marketing; Mr. Adams lay down, to rest. Charley sat near the sofa, to give the medicine, and keep up the fire, and between times to pick out interesting news about California, in the papers that he had brought home. Gold, gold, gold! That was it--gold! Everybody out there was finding gold, and everybody else was making ready to start.
One item told about a railroad across the Isthmus of Panama, too--that it probably would be begun soon, by Americans; and with that completed there would be an easy way to California.
The man on the sofa was making a strange sound; and looking over at him, Charley was astonished to see himself beckoned. Up he jumped, and crossed.
"Paper," whispered the man, in Charley's ear. "Paper----" and he feebly signed that he wanted to write.
Charley flew to the desk in the corner and got a writing pad and pencil. But the man was so weak that he made only a few wavy, uncertain lines, and fell back exhausted.
"You write; I sign," he whispered, to Charley. Charley obediently took pad and pencil, and the man dictated. "Date. Say 'For service rendered I give--bearer--all my rights in--Golden West mining claim--California.' I sign. Quick." And he motioned for the pencil.
Charley held the pad, and watched him feebly scrawl a "T" and what might have been an "o"--and a haggling "m"; and then the pencil dropped. He looked so strange, he scarcely breathed; and frightened, Charley darted into the other room