In a Hollow of the Hills | Page 7

her." He stopped, the heads separated;
Collinson had appeared at the doorway, his melancholy patience
apparently unchanged.
"Grub's on, gentlemen; sit by and eat."
The humble meal was dispatched with zest and silence. A few
interjectional remarks about the uncertainties of prospecting only
accented the other pauses. In ten minutes they were out again by the
fireplace with their lit pipes. As there were only three chairs, Collinson
stood beside the chimney.
"Collinson," said Uncle Dick, after the usual pause, taking his pipe
from his lips, "as we've got to get up and get at sun-up, we might as
well tell you now that we're dead broke. We've been living for the last
few weeks on Preble Key's loose change--and that's gone. You'll have
to let this little account and damage stand over."
Collinson's brow slightly contracted, without, however, altering his
general expression of resigned patience.
"I'm sorry for you, boys," he said slowly, "and" (diffidently) "kinder
sorry for myself, too. You see, I reckoned on goin' over to Skinner's
to-morrow, to fill up the pork bar'l and vote for Mesick and the
wagon-road. But Skinner can't let me have anything more until I've
paid suthin' on account, as he calls it."
"D'ye mean to say thar's any mountain man as low flung and mean as
that?" said Uncle Dick indignantly.
"But it isn't HIS fault," said Collinson gently; "you see, they won't send
him goods from Sacramento if he don't pay up, and he CAN'T if I
DON'T. Sabe?"

"Ah! that's another thing. They ARE mean--in Sacramento," said Uncle
Dick, somewhat mollified.
The other guests murmured an assent to this general proposition.
Suddenly Uncle Dick's face brightened.
"Look here! I know Skinner, and I'll stop there-- No, blank it all! I can't,
for it's off my route! Well, then, we'll fix it this way. Key will go there
and tell Skinner that I say that I'LL send the money to that Sacramento
hound. That'll fix it!"
Collinson's brow cleared; the solution of the difficulty seemed to satisfy
everybody, and the close-shaven man smiled.
"And I'll secure it," he said, "and give Collinson a sight draft on myself
at San Francisco."
"What's that for?" said Collinson, with a sudden suffusion on each
cheek.
"In case of accident."
"Wot accident?" persisted Collinson, with a dark look of suspicion on
his usually placid face.
"In case we should forget it," said the close-shaven man, with a laugh.
"And do you suppose that if you boys went and forgot it that I'd have
anything to do with your d--d paper?" said Collinson, a murky cloud
coming into his eyes.
"Why, that's only business, Colly," interposed Uncle Dick quickly;
"that's all Jim Parker means; he's a business man, don't you see.
Suppose we got killed! You've that draft to show."
"Show who?" growled Collinson.
"Why,--hang it!--our friends, our heirs, our relations--to get your
money, hesitated Uncle Dick.

"And do you kalkilate," said Collinson, with deeply laboring breath,
"that if you got killed, that I'd be coming on your folks for the worth of
the d--d truck I giv ye? Go 'way! Lemme git out o' this. You're makin'
me tired." He stalked to the door, lit his pipe, and began to walk up and
down the gravelly river-bed. Uncle Dick followed him. From time to
time the two other guests heard the sounds of alternate protest and
explanation as they passed and repassed the windows. Preble Key
smiled, Parker shrugged his shoulders.
"He'll be thinkin' you've begrudged him your grub if you don't-- that's
the way with these business men," said Uncle Dick's voice in one of
these intervals. Presently they reentered the house, Uncle Dick saying
casually to Parker, "You can leave that draft on the bar when you're
ready to go to-morrow;" and the incident was presumed to have ended.
But Collinson did not glance in the direction of Parker for the rest of
the evening; and, indeed, standing with his back to the chimney, more
than once fell into that stolid abstraction which was supposed to be the
contemplation of his absent wife.
From this silence, which became infectious, the three guests were
suddenly aroused by a furious clattering down the steep descent of the
mountain, along the trail they had just ridden! It came near, increasing
in sound, until it even seemed to scatter the fine gravel of the river-bed
against the sides of the house, and then passed in a gust of wind that
shook the roof and roared in the chimney. With one common impulse
the three travelers rose and went to the door. They opened it to a
blackness that seemed to stand as another and an iron door before them,
but to nothing else.
"Somebody went by then," said Uncle Dick, turning to Collinson.
"Didn't you hear it?"