Castlemon Harry
The Haunted Mine

CHAPTER XXV
CLAUS, AGAIN

"There!" said Mr. Solomon Claus, as he entered at a fast walk the railroad depot, passed through it, and took up the first back street that he came to; "I guess I have got rid of him. Now, the next thing is to go somewhere and sit down and think about it."

Claus kept a good watch of the buildings as he passed along, and at last saw a hotel, into which he turned. He bought a cigar at the bar, and, drawing a chair in front of one of the windows, sat down to meditate on his future course; for this German was not in the habit of giving up a thing upon which he had set his mind, although he might fail in every attempt he undertook. He had set his heart upon having a portion of that money that Julian had come into by accident, and, although something had happened to upset his calculations, he was not done with it yet.

"That was a sharp trick, sending off the box by express, when they might as well have carried its contents in their valises," said Claus, settling down in his chair and keeping his eyes fastened upon the railroad depot. "Wiggins was at the bottom of that, for I don't believe the boys would ever have thought of it. I wonder how they felt when they found their valises gone? Now, the next thing is something else. Shall I go home, get my clothes, and spend the winter in Denver, or shall I go home and stay there? That's a question that cannot be decided in a minute."

While Claus was endeavoring to come to some conclusion on these points he saw Casper Nevins coming along the railroad and entering the depot. By keeping a close watch of the windows he discovered him pass toward the ticket office, where he made known his wants, and presently Claus saw him put a ticket into his pocket.

"So far, so good," muttered Claus, as he arose from his chair. "I guess I might as well get on the train with him, for I must go to St. Louis anyhow. Perhaps something will occur to me in the meantime."

Casper was sitting on a bench, with his hands clasped and his chin resting on his breast, wondering what in the world he was going to do when he got back to St. Louis, when he heard Claus's step on the floor. He first had an idea that he would not speak to him at all; but Solomon acted in such a friendly manner, when he met him, that he could not fail to accost him with.

"You were trying to shake me, were you?"

"Shake you! my dear fellow," exclaimed Claus, as if he were profoundly astonished. "Such a thing never entered my head! I simply wanted to get away by myself and think the matter over. Have a cigar."

"I don't want it!" declared Casper, when Claus laid it down upon his knee. "I don't believe I shall want many cigars or anything else very long."

"Disappointed over not finding that wealth, were you?" asked Claus, in a lower tone. "Well, I was disappointed myself, and for a time I did not want to see you or anybody else. I have wasted a heap of hard-earned dollars upon that 'old horse.'"

"Have you given it up, too?" inquired Casper.

"What else can I do? Of course I have given it up. I will go back home again and settle down to my humdrum life, and I shall never get over moaning about that hundred thousand dollars we have lost."

"Do you think we tried every plan to get it?"

"Every one that occurred to me. They have it, and that is all there is to it. What are you going to do when you get back to St. Louis?" inquired Claus, for that was a matter in which he was very much interested. He was not going to have Casper hanging onto him; on that he was determined.

"I suppose I shall have to do as others do who are without work," replied Casper. "I shall go around to every store, and ask them if they want a boy who isn't above doing anything that will bring him his board and clothes. I wish I had my old position back; I'll bet you that I would try to keep it."

"That is the best wish you have made in a long time," said Claus, placing his hand on Casper's shoulder. "If I was back there, with my money in my pocket, I would not care if every one of the express boys would come and shove an 'old horse' at me. I tell you, 'honesty is the best policy.'"

Casper was almost ready to believe that Claus had repented of his bargain, but he soon became suspicious of him again. That was a queer phrase to come from the lips of a man who believed in cheating or lying for the purpose of making a few dollars by it. For want of something better to do, he took up the cigar which Claus had laid upon his knee and proceeded to light it.

"Well, I guess I'll go and get a ticket," remarked Claus, after a little pause. "I don't know how soon that train will be along."

"'Honesty is the best policy,' is it?" mused Casper, watching Claus as he took up his stand in the door and looked away down the railroad. "Some people would believe him, but I have known him too long for that. I wish I knew what he has in his head. He is going to try to get his hands on that 'old horse'; and if he does, I hope he will fail, just as we have done. He need not think that I am going to hold fast to him. I have had one lesson through him, and that is enough."

Claus did not seem anxious to renew his conversation with Casper. He had heard all the latter's plans, as far as he had any, and now he wanted to think up some of his own. He walked up and down the platform with his hands behind his back, all the while keeping a bright lookout down the road for the train.

"I must go to Denver, because I shall want to make the acquaintance of some fellows there whom I know I can trust," soliloquized Claus. "I can get plenty of men in St. Louis, but they are not the ones I want. I must have some men who know all about mining, and perhaps I can get them to scrape an acquaintance with Julian. That will be all the better, for then I can find out what he is going to do. Well, we will see how it looks when I get home."

For half an hour Claus walked the platform occupied with such thoughts as these, and finally a big smoke down the track told him the train was coming. He stuck his head in at the door and informed Casper of the fact, and when the train came up he boarded one of the forward cars, leaving his companion to do as he pleased.

"You are going to shake me," thought Casper, as he stepped aboard the last car in the train. "Well, you might as well do it at one time as at another. I have all the money I can get out of you, but I am not square with you by any means. From this time forward I'll look out for myself."

And the longer Casper pondered upon this thought, the more heartily he wished he had never seen Claus in the first place. He did not sleep a wink during his ride to St. Louis, but got off the train when it reached its destination and took a straight course for his room. The apartment seemed cheerless after his experience on the train, but he closed the door, threw himself into a chair, and resumed his meditations, for thus far he had not been able to decide upon anything.

"I am hungry," thought he, at length, "and after I have satisfied my appetite I will do just what I told Claus – go around to the different stores and ask them if they want a boy. I tell you that will be a big come-down for me, but it serves me right for having anything to do with Claus."

We need not go with Casper any further. For three nights he returned from his long walks tired and hungry, and not a single storekeeper to whom he had applied wanted a boy for any purpose whatever. Sometimes he had sharp words to dishearten him. "No, no; get out of here – you are the fifth boy who has been at me this morning;" and Casper always went, for fear the man would lay violent hands on him. On the fourth night he came home feeling a little better than usual. He had been hired for a few days to act as porter in a wholesale dry-goods store, and he had enough money in his pocket to pay for a good supper. The wages he received were small – just about enough to pay for breakfast and supper; but when the few days were up the hurry was over, and Casper was once more a gentleman of leisure. And so it was during the rest of the summer and fall. He could not get anything to do steadily, his clothes were fast wearing out, and the landlord came down on him for his rent when he did not have a cent in his pocket. Utterly discouraged, at last he wrote to his mother for money to carry him to his home; and so he passes out of our sight.

As for Claus, we wish we could dispose of him in the same way; but unfortunately we cannot. Everybody was glad to see him when he entered the pool-room where he had been in the habit of playing, and more than one offered him a cigar. He told a long story about some business he had to attend to somewhere out West, and when he talked he looked up every time the door opened, as if fearful that Casper would come in to bother him for more money. But Casper was sick of Claus. The lesson he had received from him was enough.

Claus remained in St. Louis for two months; and he must have been successful, too, for the roll of bills he carried away with him was considerably larger than the one which Casper had seen. When he was ready to go he bade everybody good-bye, and this time he carried his trunk with him. He was going out West to attend to "some business," which meant that he was going to keep watch of Julian and Jack in some way, and be ready to pounce upon them when they worked their mine – that is, if they were successful with it.

"That will be the only thing I can do," decided Claus, after thinking the matter over. "They have the buildings by this time, at any rate, so that part of it has gone up; but when they get out alone, and are working in their mine, that will be the time for me to take them. They will have all the work, but I will have the dust they make."

When Claus reached this point in his meditations, he could not help remembering that some of the men who were interested in the mines were dead shots with either rifle or revolver, and that if he robbed the boys he would be certain to have some of them after him, and what they would do if they caught him was another matter altogether.

"I can shoot as well as they can," thought he, feeling around for his hip pocket to satisfy himself that his new revolver was still in its place. "If I have some of their money in my pocket, I would like to see any of the miners come up with me."

When Claus reached Denver, his first care was to keep clear of Julian and Jack, and his next was to find some miners who were familiar with the country in the region bordering on Dutch Flat; for thus far Claus had not been able to learn a thing about it. Dutch Flat might be five miles away or it might be a hundred, and he wanted somebody to act as his guide. He put up at a second-rate hotel, engaged his room, and then came down into the reading-room to keep watch of the men who tarried there.

"I must find somebody whose face tells me he would not be above stealing a hundred thousand dollars if he had a good chance," decided Claus; "but the countenances of these men all go against me – they are too honest. I guess I'll have to try the clerk, and see what I can get out of him."

On the second day, as Claus entered the reading-room with a paper in his hand, he saw before him a man sitting by a window, his feet elevated higher than his head, watching the people going by. He was a miner, – there could be no doubt about that, – and he seemed to be in low spirits about something, for every little while he changed his position, yawned, and stretched his arms as if he did not know what to do with himself. Claus took just one look at him, then seized a chair and drew it up by the man's side. The man looked up to see who it was, and then looked out on the street again.

"Excuse me," began Claus, "but you seem to be a miner."

"Well, yes – I have dabbled in that a little," answered the man, turning his eyes once more upon Claus. "What made you think of that?"

"I judged you by your clothes," replied Claus. "Have a cigar? Then, perhaps you will tell me if you know anything about Dutch Flat, where there is – "

"Don't I know all about it?" interrupted the man. "Ask me something hard. A bigger fraud than that Dutch Flat was never sprung on any lot of men. There is no color of gold up there."

"Then what made you go there in the first place?" asked Claus.

"It got into the hands of a few men who were afraid of the Indians, and they coaxed me and my partner to go up," replied the man. "But there were no Indians there. I prospected around there for six months, owe more than I shall ever be able to pay for grub-staking, and finally, when the cold weather came, I slipped out."

"I am sorry to hear that," remarked Claus, looking down at the floor in a brown study. "I have a mine up there, and I was about to go up and see how things were getting on there; but if the dirt pans out as you say, it will not be worth while."

"You had better stay here, where you have a good fire to warm you during this frosty weather," said the man, once more running his eyes over Claus's figure. "If you have a mine up there you had better let it go; you are worth as much money now as you would be if you stayed up there a year."

"But I would like to go and see the mine," replied Claus. "There was a fortune taken out of it a few years ago, and it can't be that the vein is all used up yet."

"Where is your mine?"

"That is what I don't know. I have somehow got it into my head the mine is off by itself, a few miles from everybody else's."

"Do you mean the haunted mine?" asked the man, now beginning to take some interest in what Claus was saying.

"I believe that is what they call it."

"It is five miles from Dutch Flat, straight off through the mountains. You can't miss it, for there is a trail that goes straight to it."

"Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, I know; but that is all I do know about it. I saw two men who went there to work the pit, and who were frightened so badly that they lit out for this place as quick as they could go, and that was all I wanted to know of the mine."

"Then you have never been down in it?"

"Not much, I haven't!" exclaimed the man, looking surprised. "I would not go down into it for all the money there is in the mountain."

"Did those men see anything?"

"No, but they heard a sight; and if men can be so badly scared by what they hear, they don't wait to see anything."

"Well, I want to go up there, and who can I get to act as my guide?"

"I can tell you one thing," answered the man, emphatically – "you won't get me and Jake to go up there with you. I'll tell you what I might do," he added, after thinking a moment. "Are you going to stay here this winter?"

"Yes, I had thought of it. It is pretty cold up there in the mountains – is it not?"

"The weather is so cold that it will take the hair right off of your head," replied the man. "If you will stay here until spring opens, you might hire me and Jake to show you up as far as Dutch Flat; but beyond that we don't budge an inch."

"How much will you charge me? And another thing – do I have to pay you for waiting until spring?"

"No, you need not pay us a cent. We have enough to last us all winter. I was just wondering what I was going to do when spring came, and that made me feel blue. But if you are going to hire us – you will be gone three or four months, won't you?"

Yes, Claus thought that he would be gone as long as that. Then he asked, "How far is Dutch Flat from here?"

"Two hundred miles."

The two then began an earnest conversation in regard to the money that was to be paid for guiding Claus up to Dutch Flat. The latter thought he had worked the thing just about right. It would be time enough to tell him who Julian and Jack were, and to talk about robbing them, when he knew a little more concerning the man and his partner. He had not seen the other man yet, but he judged that, if he were like the miner he was talking to, it would not be any great trouble to bring them to his own way of thinking.

CHAPTER XXVI
CLAUS HEARS SOMETHING

Never had a winter appeared so long and so utterly cheerless as this one did to Solomon Claus. The first thing he did, after he made the acquaintance of Jake and his partner, was to change his place of abode. Jake was as ready to ask for cigars as Claus had been, and the latter found that in order to make his money hold out he must institute a different state of affairs. He found lodgings at another second-rate hotel in a distant part of the city, but he found opportunity to run down now and then to call upon Bob and Jake, – those were the only two names he knew them by, – to see how they were coming along, and gradually lead the way up to talking about the plans he had in view. It all came about by accident. One day, when discussing the haunted mine, Claus remarked that he knew the two boys who were working it, and hoped they would have a good deal of dust on hand by the time he got here.

"Then they will freeze to death!" declared Bob. "What made you let them go there, if you knew the mine was haunted?"

"Oh, they are not working it now," said Claus. "They are in St. Louis, and are coming out as soon as spring opens. They are plucky fellows, and will find out all about those ghosts before they come back."

"Yes, if the ghosts don't run them away," answered Bob. "I understood you to say they are boys. Well, now, if they get the better of the ghosts, which is something I won't believe until I see it, and we should get there about a month or two after they do, and find that they have dug up dust to the amount of ten or fifteen thousand dollars – eh?"

"But maybe the gentleman is set on those two boys, and it would not pay to rob them," remarked Jake.

"No, I am not set on them," avowed Claus, smiling inwardly when he saw how readily the miners fell in with his plans. "I tried my level best to get those boys to stay at home, for I don't want them to dig their wealth out of the ground, but they hooted at me; and when I saw they were bound to come, I thought I would get up here before them and see what sort of things they had to contend with."

"What sort of relationship do you bear to the two boys?" asked Bob.

"I am their uncle, and I gave them a block of buildings here in Denver worth a hundred thousand dollars and this haunted mine; but, mind you, I did not know it was haunted until after I had given it to them. But, boy like, they determined to come up, brave the ghosts, and take another fifty thousand out of it."

Bob and Jake looked at each other, and something told them not to believe all that Claus had said to them. If he was worth so much money that he was willing to give his nephews a hundred thousand dollars of it, he did not live in the way his means would allow.

"And another thing," resumed Claus. "I would not mind their losing ten thousand dollars, provided I got my share of it, for then they would learn that a miner's life is as full of dangers as any other. But remember – if you get ten thousand, I want three thousand of it."

This was all that Claus thought it necessary to say on the subject of robbing the boys, and after finishing his cigar he got up and went out. Jake watched him until he was hidden in the crowd on the street, and then settled back in his chair and looked at Bob.

"There is something wrong with that fellow," he remarked. "His stories don't hitch; he has some other reason for wishing to rob those boys. Now, what is it?"

"You tell," retorted Bob. "He has something on his mind, but he has no more interest in that pit than you or I have. He never owned it, in the first place."

"Then we will find out about it when we show him the way to the Flat," said Jake.

"Oh, there will be somebody there working the mine – I don't dispute that. But he is no uncle to them two boys. But say – I have just thought of something. We are not going up there for three dollars a day; and if we don't make something out of the boys, what's the reason we can't go to headquarters?"

Jake understood all his companion would have said, for he winked and nodded his head in a way that had a volume of meaning in it. The two moved their chairs closer together, and for half an hour engaged in earnest conversation. There was only one thing that troubled them – they did not like the idea of staying at Dutch Flat, among the miners, until they heard how the boys were getting on with their mine.

"You know they did not like us any too well last summer," said Bob, twisting about in his chair. "If we had not come away just when we did, it is my belief they would have ordered us out."

"Yes; and it was all on your account, too. You were too anxious to know how much the other fellows had dug out of their mines. You must keep still and say nothing."

Claus went away from the hotel feeling very much relieved. Bob and Jake had come over to his plans, and they had raised no objection to them. The next thing was to bring them down to a share in the spoils. He was not going to come out there all the way from St. Louis and propose that thing to them, and then put up with what they chose to give him.

"I must have a third of the money they make, and that is all there is about it," said he to himself. "They would not have known a thing about it if it had not been for me. Who is that? I declare, it is Julian and Jack!"

The boys were coming directly toward him, and this was the first time he had seen them since his arrival in Denver, although he had kept a close watch of everybody he had met on the street. He stepped into a door, and appeared to be looking for some one inside; and when the boys passed him, he turned around to look at them. The latter were in a hurry, for it was a frosty morning, and they felt the need of some exercise to quicken their blood; besides, they were on their way to school, in the hope of learning something that would fit them for some useful station in life. They were dressed in brand-new overcoats, had furs around their necks and fur gloves on their hands, and Julian was bent partly over, laughing at some remark Jack had made. He watched them until they were out of sight, and then came out and went on his way.

"I tell you we are 'some,' now that we have our pockets full of money," soliloquized Claus, who grew angry when he drew a contrast between his and their station in life. "Most anybody would feel big if he was in their place. But I must look out – I don't want them to see me here."

Fortunately Claus was not again called upon to dodge the boys in his rambles about the city. He kept himself in a part of the city remote from that which the boys frequented. The winter passed on, and spring opened, and he did not again see them; but he heard of them through Bob and Jake, who made frequent visits to the hotel where Mr. Banta was located.

"I guess we saw your boys to-day," said Bob, who then went on to give a description of them. "They have it all cut and dried with Banta, and he is going to show them the way to their mine. No, they did not mention your name once. They are going to buy a pack-horse, and load him up with tools and provisions, and are going out as big as life."

"That is all right," said Claus. "Now, remember – I am to have a third of the dust you get."

"Of course; that is understood," answered Jake, who now seemed as anxious to go to Dutch Flat as he had before been to keep away from it. "It would not be fair for us to take it all. Where are you going after you get the money?"

"I haven't got it yet," remarked Claus, with a smile. "Those ghosts may be too strong for the boys, and perhaps they will come away without anything."

"Then we will pitch in and work the mine, ourselves," said Bob. "They say that gold is so thick up there that you can pick it up with your hands. We won't come away and leave such a vein behind us."

"What about the ghosts?" queried Claus, who could not deny he was afraid of them. "They may be too strong for you, also."

"If they can get away with cold steel we'll give in to them," said Jake. "But I'll risk that. Where are you going when you get the money? Of course you can't go back to St. Louis."

"No; I think I shall go on to California. I have always wanted to see that State."

"Well, we will go East. Three thousand dollars, if they succeed in digging out ten thousand, added to what we shall make – humph!" said Bob; and then he stopped before he had gone any further.

It was a wonder that Claus did not suspect something, but his mind was too fully occupied with other matters. Where was he going when he got the money? That was something that had not occurred to Claus before, and he found out that he had something yet to worry him.

"You fellows seem to think you will get rich by robbing those boys," remarked Claus, knowing that he must say something.

"No, we don't," answered Jake; "but that will be enough to keep us until we can turn our hands to some other kind of work. Now about our pack-horse, tools and provisions. You have money enough to pay for them, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes – that is, I have a little," Claus replied, cautiously, for he was afraid the miners might want more of it than he felt able to spend. "But I tell you I shall be hard up after I get those things."

"You have other money besides what you gave the boys," said Bob. "You can write to St. Louis for more."

"But I don't want to do that. I have with me just what I can spare, for my other funds are all invested."

"Oh, you can get more for the sake of what is coming to you," said Jake, carelessly. "Now, we want to start for Dutch Flat in about a week. That will give the boys time to fight the ghosts and get to work in their pit. Suppose we go and see about our pack-horse and tools."

Claus would have been glad to have put this thing off for a day or two, but he could not see any way to get out of it. He went with the miners, who knew just where they wanted to go, and the horse he bought was a perfect rack of bones that did not seem strong enough to carry himself up to Dutch Flat, let alone a hundredweight of tools and provisions with him. The tools he bought were to be left in the store until they were called for, and the miners drew a long breath of relief, for that much was done. If Claus at any time got sick of his bargain, and wanted to haul out, he could go and welcome; but they would hold fast to his tools and provisions, and use them in prospecting somewhere else.

The morning set apart for their departure came at last, and Claus and his companions put off at the first peep of day. They made the journey of two hundred miles without any mishap, and finally rode into the camp of Dutch Flat just as the miners were getting ready to have their dinner. They all looked up when they heard the newcomers, and some uttered profane ejaculations under their breath, while others greeted them in a way that Claus did not like, for it showed him how his partners stood there with the miners.

"Well, if there ain't Bob I'm a Dutchman!" exclaimed one, straightening up and shading his eyes with his hand. "You are on hand, like a bad five-dollar bill – ain't you? I was in hopes you were well on your way to the States by this time."

"No, sir; I am here yet," answered Bob. "You don't mind if I go and work my old claim, do you? I don't reckon that anybody has it."

"Mighty clear of anybody taking your claim," said another. "You can go there and work it, for all of us; but we don't want you snooping around us like you did last summer."

"What is the matter with those fellows?" asked Claus, when they were out of hearing. "What did you men do here last summer?"

"Just nothing at all," replied Jake. "We wanted to know how much gold everybody was digging, and that made them jealous of us."

"But if you can't mingle with them as you did then, how are you going to find out about the haunted mine?"

"Oh, we'll mix with them just as we did last year, only we sha'n't have so much to say to them," said Jake. "Here is our claim, and it don't look as though anybody had been nigh it."

Claus was both surprised and downhearted. If he had known that the miners were going to extend such a reception as that to him he would have been the last one to go among them. There he was, almost alone, with two hundred brawny fellows around him, each one with a revolver strapped to his waist, and their looks and actions indicated that if necessity required it they would not be at all reluctant to use them. He managed to gather up courage to visit the general camp-fire, which was kindled just at dark, where the miners met to smoke their pipes and tell about what had happened in their mines during the day. This one had not made anything. The dirt promised fairly, and he hoped in a few days to strike a vein that would pay him and his partner something. Another had tapped a little vein, and he believed that by the time he got a rock out of his way he would stumble onto a deposit that would make him so rich that he would start for the States in short order.

"Well, partner, how do you come on?" asked the man who was sitting close to Claus, who was listening with all his ears. "Does your dirt pan out any better than it did last summer?"

"We have not seen the color of anything yet," replied Claus. "I do not believe there is any gold there."

"You are a tenderfoot, ain't you?"

"Yes; I never have been in the mines before."

"And you will wish, before you see your friends again, that you had never seen them this time. If you get any dust, you hide it where your partners can't find it."

There was one man, who did not take any part in the conversation, that kept a close watch on Claus and listened to every word he said. It was Mr. Banta, who wondered what in the world could have happened to bring so gentlemanly appearing a man up there in company with Bob and Jake.

"He must have money somewhere about his good clothes, and that is what Bob is after," said he to himself. "But if that is the case, why did they not jump him on the way here? I think he will bear watching."

Three nights passed in this way, Claus always meeting the miners at the general camp-fire, while his partners stayed at home and waited for him to come back and tell them the news, and on the fourth evening Banta seemed lost in thought. He sat and gazed silently into the fire, unmindful of the tales that were told and the songs that were sung all around him. At last one of the miners addressed him.