The Lost Cabin Mine

e Apache Kid"

me Acq

the true story of that mine there is no man who knows.

r day when I came by accident upon a pile of letters, tied with red silk ribbon and bearing a tag "Letters from Francis." These were the letters I sent to my mother during my Odyssey and one of them, bearing the date of the day succeeding that I have named, contained an account, toned down

and again raising my eyes to the great, confronting mountain, the lower trees of which seemed as though trembling, seen through the heat ha

oustache, and tiny eyes that seemed ever on the alert, came shuffling out to the verand

woke me from

still setting there

es

inquired, touching the edge of the cage lightly

pite the brightness of the day, in a mood somewhat despondent, wonderi

he McNair Min

odd

Bon

ded a

Poo

d," I r

ou try the M

es

uired, elevat

"They all say they only

the grey parrot hanging above him with his head coc

s don't beat

this roaring Baker City almost a fortnight and was still idle, contempt for my incapacity. Really, I do not believe now that any of them looked on me with contempt; it was only my own inward s

I'm experienced all right; I never done nothing else in my life.' You want to say that, no matter what the job is you 're offered. If yo

e to tell a downr

finger, the little finger cocked in the air; "well, now that you put it that way-well, I guess it would. I never looked at it that way before. You see, they all ask y

t took up with such a raucous voice that the

uld have thought that his little eyes sparkled with real ind

back at me, 'I don't have to!' What you make o' that? Are you goin' to permit that? Everything connected with you seems conspirin' a

flashing, "you bin drinkin' ag'in, and ef you ain'

seriously. Had I only known it at the time, they were a most devoted couple and would-not "kiss again with tears" and seek forgiveness and reconciliation, but-speak to each other most kindly, as though no "words" had ever passed between them, half an hour later. But at the time of the little altercation on the verandah, when Mrs. Laughlin gave voice to her thr

t followed upon the exhibition of the break in the connubial bliss of my landlord and his wife. Then I remembered something that I d

is speaking about it, you know. What is the Lost Cabin Mine? What is the stor

sat down beside me in the shadow. "You don't know that story? Why, then I 'll give you all there is to it so far. And talking about the Lost C

he delights of civilisation it was not to Baker City, but to one of the towns on the railroad, such as Bogus City or Kettle River Gap, that they journeyed. On his legs were blue dungaree overalls, turned up at the bottom as though to let the world see that he wore, beneath the overalls, a very fine pair of trousers. On his head was a round, soft hat, not broad of brim, but the brim in front was bent down, shading his eyes. The cream-colour of his kerchief set off his healthy brown skin and his black, crisp hair. There were no spurs in his boots; for all that he had the bear

sh," h

ations, stepped lightly off into the loose sand and Laughlin jogged me with his elbow and nodded to me, rolling his eyes toward the departing ma

he Kid had gone from sight he turned again to me and remar

year back. Hanged at the age of twenty-one he was, and had killed twenty-one men, which is an interesting fact to consider. That's the way with names. I know a fellow they call Texas Jack yet, but the real original died long ago

eared his throat; but I seemed fated not to hear the truth of t

n aggrieved tone, "there

bearing, from his bowed head

this gentleman a s

ng your stories to a young lad like that! You 'd be doin' better slip

hlin tur

and the mistress suspects him o' takin' some more than even a barke

n sanctum, satisfied; while the "pro-

ar corner, as by ancient right, morning, noon, and evening, playing an eternal solitary game of cards, the whole deck of cards spread before him on a table. He moved t

d. "He is always playing there, alwa

they 're always kind o' rat-house,-of unsound mind, them men is. I heerd a gentleman explain one day that it's a great game for steadyin' the head. He gets a remittance from England, they say. Anyhow, he stands up to the bar once every two months and blows himself in for

arns, true, fictitious, and otherwise, to his guests, and this time we were not interrupted. He told me the story of the Lost Cabin Mine, or as much of that