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Part I
The four men on the "Zip Coon" Ledge had not got fairly settled to their morning`s work. There was the usual lingering hesitation which is apt to attend the taking-up of any regular or monotonous performance, shown in this instance in the prolonged scrutiny of a pick`s point, the solemn selection of a shovel, or the "hefting" or weighing of a tapping-iron or drill. One member, becoming interested in a funny paragraph he found in the scrap of newspaper wrapped around his noonday cheese, shamelessly sat down to finish it, regardless of the prospecting pan thrown at him by another. They had taken up their daily routine of mining life like schoolboys at their tasks. "Hello!" said Ned Wyngate, joyously recognizing a possible further interruption. "Blamed if the Express rider ain`t comin` here!" He was shading his eyes with his hand as he gazed over the broad sun-baked expanse of broken "flat" between them and the highroad. They all looked up, and saw the figure of a mounted man, with a courier`s bag thrown over his shoulder, galloping towards them. It was really an event, as their letters were usually left at the grocery at the crossroads. "I knew something was goin` to happen," said Wyngate. "I didn`t feel a bit like work this morning." Here one of their number ran off to meet the advancing horseman. They watched him until they saw the latter rein up, and hand a brown envelope to their messenger, who ran breathlessly back with it to the Ledge as the horseman galloped away again. "A telegraph for Jackson Wells," he said, handing it to the young man who had been reading the scrap of paper. There was a dead silence. Telegrams were expensive rarities in those days, especially with the youthful Bohemian miners of the Zip Coon Ledge. They were burning with curiosity, yet a singular thing happened. Accustomed as they had been to a life of brotherly familiarity and unceremoniousness, this portentous message from the outside world of civilization recalled their old formal politeness. They looked steadily away from the receiver of the telegram, and he on his part stammered an apologetic "Excuse me, boys," as he broke the envelope. There was another pause, which seemed to be interminable to the waiting partners. Then the voice of Wells, in quite natural tones, said, "By gum! that`s funny! Read that, Dexter,--read it out loud." Dexter Rice, the foreman, took the proffered telegram from Wells`s hand, and read as follows:-- Your uncle, Quincy Wells, died yesterday, leaving you sole heir. Will attend you to-morrow for instructions. BAKER AND TWIGGS, Attorneys, Sacramento. The three miners` faces lightened and turned joyously to Wells; but HIS face looked puzzled. "May we congratulate you, Mr. Wells?" said Wyngate, with affected politeness; "or possibly your uncle may have been English, and a title goes with the `prop,` and you may be Lord Wells, or Very Wells--at least." But here Jackson Wells`s youthful face lost its perplexity, and he began to laugh long and silently to himself. This was protracted to such an extent that Dexter asserted himself,--as foreman and senior partner. "Look here, Jack! don`t sit there cackling like a chuckle-headed magpie, if you ARE the heir." "I--can`t--help it," gasped Jackson. "I am the heir--but you see, boys, there AIN`T ANY PROPERTY." "What do you mean? Is all that a sell?" demanded Rice. "Not much! Telegraph`s too expensive for that sort o` feelin`. You see, boys, I`ve got an Uncle Quincy, though I don`t know him much, and he MAY be dead. But his whole fixin`s consisted of a claim the size of ours, and played out long ago: a ramshackle lot o` sheds called a cottage, and a kind of market garden of about three acres, where he reared and sold vegetables. He was always poor, and as for calling it `property,` and ME the `heir`--good Lord!" "A miser, as sure as you`re born!" said Wyngate, with optimistic decision. "That`s always the way. You`ll find every crack of that blessed old shed stuck full of greenbacks and certificates of deposit, and lots of gold dust and coin buried all over that cow patch! And of course no one suspected it! And of course he lived alone, and never let any one get into his house--and nearly starved himself! Lord love you! There`s hundreds of such cases. The world is full of `em!" "That`s so," chimed in Pulaski Briggs, the fourth partner, "and I tell you what, Jacksey, we`ll come over with you the day you take possession, and just `prospect` the whole blamed shanty, pigsties, and potato patch, for fun--and won`t charge you anything." For a moment Jackson`s face had really brightened under the infection of enthusiasm, but it presently settled into perplexity again. "No! You bet the boys around Buckeye Hollow would have spotted anything like that long ago." "Buckeye Hollow!" repeated Rice and his partners. "Yes! Buckeye Hollow, that`s the place; not twenty miles from here, and a God-forsaken hole, as you know." A cloud had settled on Zip Coon Ledge. They knew of Buckeye Hollow, and it was evident that no good had ever yet come out of that Nazareth. "There`s no use of talking now," said Rice conclusively. "You`ll draw it all from that lawyer shark who`s coming here tomorrow, and you can bet your life he wouldn`t have taken this trouble if there wasn`t suthin` in it. Anyhow, we`ll knock off work now and call it half a day, in honor of our distinguished young friend`s accession to his baronial estates of Buckeye Hollow. We`ll just toddle down to Tomlinson`s at the cross-roads, and have a nip and a quiet game of old sledge at Jacksey`s expense. I reckon the estate`s good for THAT," he added, with severe gravity. "And, speaking as a fa`r- minded man and the president of this yer Company, if Jackson would occasionally take out and air that telegraphic dispatch of his while we`re at Tomlinson`s, it might do something for that Company`s credit--with Tomlinson! We`re wantin` some new blastin` plant bad!" Oddly enough the telegram--accidentally shown at Tomlinson`s-- produced a gratifying effect, and the Zip Coon Ledge materially advanced in public estimation. With this possible infusion of new capital into its resources, the Company was beset by offers of machinery and goods; and it was deemed expedient by the sapient Rice, that to prevent the dissemination of any more accurate information regarding Jackson`s property the next day, the lawyer should be met at the stage office by one of the members, and conveyed secretly past Tomlinson`s to the Ledge. "I`d let you go," he said to Jackson, "only it won`t do for that d----d skunk of a lawyer to think you`re too anxious--sabe? We want to rub into him that we are in the habit out yer of havin` things left to us, and a fortin` more or less, falling into us now and then, ain`t nothin` alongside of the Zip Coon claim. It won`t hurt ye to keep up a big bluff on that hand of yours. Nobody would dare to `call` you." Indeed this idea was carried out with such elaboration the next day that Mr. Twiggs, the attorney, was considerably impressed both by the conduct of his guide, who (although burning with curiosity) expressed absolute indifference regarding Jackson Wells`s inheritance, and the calmness of Jackson himself, who had to be ostentatiously called from his work on the Ledge to meet him, and who even gave him an audience in the hearing of his partners. Forced into an apologetic attitude, he expressed his regret at being obliged to bother Mr. Wells with an affair of such secondary importance, but he was obliged to carry out the formalities of the law. "What do you suppose the estate is worth?" asked Wells carelessly. "I should not think that the house, the claim, and the land would bring more than fifteen hundred dollars," replied Twiggs submissively. To the impecunious owners of Zip Coon Ledge it seemed a large sum, but they did not show it. "You see," continued Mr. Twiggs, "it`s really a case of `willing away` property from its obvious or direct inheritors, instead of a beneficial grant. I take it that you and your uncle were not particularly intimate,--at least, so I gathered when I made the will,--and his simple object was to disinherit his only daughter, with whom he had had some quarrel, and who had left him to live with his late wife`s brother, Mr. Morley Brown, who is quite wealthy and residing in the same township. Perhaps you remember the young lady?" Jackson Wells had a dim recollection of this cousin, a hateful, red-haired schoolgirl, and an equally unpleasant memory of this other uncle, who was purse-proud and had never taken any notice of him. He answered affirmatively. "There may be some attempt to contest the will," continued Mr. Twiggs, "as the disinheriting of an only child and a daughter offends the sentiment of the people and of judges and jury, and the law makes such a will invalid, unless a reason is given. Fortunately your uncle has placed his reasons on record. I have a copy of the will here, and can show you the clause." He took it from his pocket, and read as follows: "`I exclude my daughter, Jocelinda Wells, from any benefit or provision of this my will and testament, for the reason that she has voluntarily abandoned her father`s roof for the house of her mother`s brother, Morley Brown; has preferred the fleshpots of Egypt to the virtuous frugalities of her own home, and has discarded the humble friends of her youth, and the associates of her father, for the meretricious and slavish sympathy of wealth and position. In lieu thereof, and as compensation therefor, I do hereby give and bequeath to her my full and free permission to gratify her frequently expressed wish for another guardian in place of myself, and to become the adopted daughter of the said Morley Brown, with the privilege of assuming the name of Brown as aforesaid.` You see," he continued, "as the young lady`s present position is a better one than it would be if she were in her father`s house, and was evidently a compromise, the sentimental consideration of her being left homeless and penniless falls to the ground. However, as the inheritance is small, and might be of little account to you, if you choose to waive it, I dare say we may make some arrangement." This was an utterly unexpected idea to the Zip Coon Company, and Jackson Wells was for a moment silent. But Dexter Rice was equal to the emergency, and turned to the astonished lawyer with severe dignity. "You`ll excuse me for interferin`, but, as the senior partner of this yer Ledge, and Jackson Wells yer bein` a most important member, what affects his usefulness on this claim affects us. And we propose to carry out this yer will, with all its dips and spurs and angles!" As the surprised Twiggs turned from one to the other, Rice continued, "Ez far as we kin understand this little game, it`s the just punishment of a high-flying girl as breaks her pore old father`s heart, and the re-ward of a young feller ez has bin to our knowledge ez devoted a nephew as they make `em. Time and time again, sittin` around our camp fire at night, we`ve heard Jacksey say,--kinder to himself, and kinder to us, `Now I wonder what`s gone o` old uncle Quincy;` and he never sat down to a square meal, or ever rose from a square game, but what he allus said, `If old uncle Quince was only here now, boys, I`d die happy.` I leave it to you, gentlemen, if that wasn`t Jackson Wells`s gait all the time?" There was a prolonged murmur of assent, and an affecting corroboration from Ned Wyngate of "That was him; that was Jacksey all the time!" "Indeed, indeed," said the lawyer nervously. "I had quite the idea that there was very little fondness"-- "Not on your side--not on your side," said Rice quickly. "Uncle Quincy may not have anted up in this matter o` feelin`, nor seen his nephew`s rise. You know how it is yourself in these things-- being a lawyer and a fa`r-minded man--it`s all on one side, ginerally! There`s always one who loves and sacrifices, and all that, and there`s always one who rakes in the pot! That`s the way o` the world; and that`s why," continued Rice, abandoning his slightly philosophical attitude, and laying his hand tenderly, and yet with a singularly significant grip, on Wells`s arm, "we say to him, `Hang on to that will, and uncle Quincy`s memory.` And we hev to say it. For he`s that tender-hearted and keerless of money-- having his own share in this Ledge--that ef that girl came whimperin` to him he`d let her take the `prop` and let the hull thing slide! And then he`d remember that he had rewarded that gal that broke the old man`s heart, and that would upset him again in his work. And there, you see, is just where WE come in! And we say, `Hang on to that will like grim death!`" The lawyer looked curiously at Rice and his companions, and then turned to Wells: "Nevertheless, I must look to you for instructions," he said dryly. But by this time Jackson Wells, although really dubious about supplanting the orphan, had gathered the sense of his partners, and said with a frank show of decision, "I think I must stand by the will." "Then I`ll have it proved," said Twiggs, rising. "In the meantime, if there is any talk of contesting"-- "If there is, you might say," suggested Wyngate, who felt he had not had a fair show in the little comedy,--"ye might say to that old skeesicks of a wife`s brother, if he wants to nipple in, that there are four men on the Ledge--and four revolvers! We are gin`rally fa`r-minded, peaceful men, but when an old man`s heart is broken, and his gray hairs brought down in sorrow to the grave, so to speak, we`re bound to attend the funeral--sabe?" When Mr. Twiggs had departed again, accompanied by a partner to guide him past the dangerous shoals of Tomlinson`s grocery, Rice clapped his hand on Wells`s shoulder. "If it hadn`t been for me, sonny, that shark would have landed you into some compromise with that red-haired gal! I saw you weakenin`, and then I chipped in. I may have piled up the agony a little on your love for old Quince, but if you aren`t an ungrateful cub, that`s how you ought to hev been feein`, anyhow!" Nevertheless, the youthful Wells, although touched by his elder partner`s loyalty, and convinced of his own disinterestedness, felt a painful sense of lost chivalrous opportunity.
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