Evening Express

"EVENING EXPRESS" NEW SERIES. The Intruder at Flashing Camp. [COMPLETE.] Plashine Camp was decidedly a. city of refuge. In all, the assemblage numbered about two hundred men. Not a few of these were actual fugitives from justice, some were criminals, and ail had been reckless through- out their lives. One could tell this from the appearance of the majority. Taking them as a whole. they were as evil a looking lot of men as you could find in a day's march. But under the rough exterior of some there still lnrked a suspicion ,)f good and tenderness at heart, which they did their utmost to conceal. Though the sparks of humanity laiY dormant, "üey threatened at any time to burst into a flame. The same will be found in every mining camp I all the world over. There was scarcely one among the lot who was physically perfect. "Stringy." the greatest rough of all, had a fine physique and handsome face, but hia right ear was gone. "Sharky." a gambler, looked as if he couldn't hurt a fly, but he had a fiendish temper. Though he had but one eye, he was the beat shot in the camp, and from the tales he related it was impossible to dcubt this. To describe the defects of all those roughs would only be to repeat the failing3 of those first mentioned. i Flashing Camp was situated in a valley. A few months since it had been a waste-howling wilderness. But when rumours had reached the outside world from a few stragglers that the valley was a mass of gold, in an in- el,vidibly short, space of time quite a small town had sprang up. At least, it. was a cown ad far as the miners were concerned. There was Barley's stores, consisting of a wooden g.1aanty where provisions could be bought, and a "irinking booth, attached to the same build- ing, where the men could play cards, drink and swear to their hearts' content, was a never- failing place of assemblage. With courage and determination, born of nuggets. the tmen built for themselves wooden hnta wit da?perate energy, and lived in a "to-aay-w e-la-a-atd-to-morrow-we-die" sort of style. ï 21; Fla Camp was in high good humour on, » night in July, 1850. A number were sitting rouncl a fire of withered pine houghs, the feht of: which added grateful com- fort to those who were enjoying it. "Well." sai S Stringy, who was generally, spokesman, a id recognised aa a sort of leader, "well, I reckoi ?. thit we aint done badly, takin' it as a whole. soad. if I go on at the rate that i'm d,,itl' noav. I gltesB I'll clear OU", soon; I'm derned if I Ion t- And he blew a few medita- tive puffs from tes pipe. "However inui ii a man's got. 'e wants always more. I reckon, put in Stubby, a quiet and unobtrusive met iher of Flashing Camp society, but who was on, > of the deep, unfathomable sort. There's alw ays more rascality and cun- ning about, those men. hen it lies very deep dovrii. than in thoi « who show it more openly. "Then." armweret 1. Striv-n-, cuttingly, "you're one of them, Stubfc T This sally was gr< leted with a roar of laugh- ter from the rest. f. ">r Stubby was generally the butt of Stringy' < M it-thrnst3. y A nasty look came ir to Stubby's eyes, and they slowed with pent-up wrath that threatened to burst it? J limits, and surge into a flood. But he manage d to curb Jiimself. "How about the z. Tray in Kentucky, Stringy?" he asked. exi iltingly. "You got a S good deal more than y< >u wanted then, and, <!ern me, you'd frxd mov -e than aa ordinary man's share, so ynvt bad" This referred to a long term of imp-risot iment endured by Stringy. Not a man la-itg bed. however. Stringy was both feared aud retJt. sected. "Xow look you here. Stubby." answered Stringy, quietly. "I kno II enough about you to have you strung up o n the nearest tree, and thatfs more'n yon d > about me. so you'd better Jnud your evil -Jogue. <>r and ne made an unmistakable J gestae, which indi- cated something, bad foi Stubby, who sank into obscurity, somewhat a-bi whed. "Good old Stringy," roared someone, and somehow or other, quite. spontaneously, one and all, save Stubby, to ok up the refrain of "He's a joliy gtiod fellow. The air rang again with- the boisterous song and loud, rough yoices of' the ro<in as they sh, ttted Out the retrain of the oJ. 1 home with all the fervour of their reckless b earts. Even the fire seemed to ja:n in. for the flames shot up with a lurid glare,.aa it d. %need and flickered on the many faces. When this was finished, Sitringr. of course, was expected to make a. speech. 'With breath- less interest all bent forwsa-d, and Stringy stood up in the centre. "Boys," he said, "a man, whatever 'e may be. is a man for all that, and if. 'e tries to do fair, he can't do no fsirer than wot 'e tries, and may you ail do lilewise." ? This sally was followed by slisuts of appro- val, mingled with a few ironical, cheers. Then there was silence again. One G.r two rose as if to go, hut stopped sutldenlj and seemed held spell-boand by a voce asking: "Say boys. is there any .I'oow. for a new pard in Flashing Camp?" The speaker was a fairly W,ll blonde, but I slender-looking yonng fel.VDw. He wore the usual miner's costume, anci it ad a revolver by his side. The features "were delicately chiselled, and the -close crcÍ't> of brown, curly hair was crowned by a "Bufeilo Bill" hat, set rakishly on one side. His clothes bore the marks of travel-stain, and bis shirt was torn in many places. Flashing Ctmp was not accus- tomed to such a del*cate-iooiking intruder. When surprise had given Vay to curiosity, someone gave a. long. low wlristle, followed by someone saying. "Well, I bo blowed." Then came a babel of tongues, and 3, torrent of ques- tions, to all of which the young intruder paid no regard whatever. "Silence, boys." cried Stringy, holding up his hand. "iet's have fair pla.v." The cries soon died away into mutterings and growlings. Presently, thes e even ceased. "Well. young fellow, and wh Rot's your name?" asked Stringy, turning towards the stranger. "Hamilton," came the prompt reply. "Where from?" "How long ave ye left your maanmy ?" cried out someone. "She was murdered some &w months ago)" answered Hamilton, vainly endeavouring to steady his voice. "Now. young'un, don't blubber." put in Stringy, not unkindly. "We don't mean no 'arm." 'I'm not blubbering." answered the young fellow, proudly, drawing himself up to his full height, the light of the fire showing that his eyes were full of tears. "Got any dollars" jerked out Stringy. Hamilton drew out a small leather bag from his belt, and threw it down. It fell to the ground with a clink. Eager hands were in a moment ready to snatch it up. "No. you don't." said Springy. fiercelv. turn- ing ronnd. "Stow that now-hands off." All obeyed with alacrity. "How did you get here?" was the next ques- tion asked of Hamilton. "Rode." "Alone?" "Yes; quite alone." "Where's your horse?" "Dead! I had to shoot him. He tripped and sprained his ankle. I've waJked the last fifty miles." Here a few grunts of approval were heard, and someone muttered something about pIRf;lc "And what do you expect to do at Plr.shin? Camp?" continued Stringy. "Peg a claim, and dig at the others," raa the answer. "Well boys, say. is there room for a new pard at the camp. I reckon he won't do us much harm. Here, yonng feller, take your purse." said Stringy, thrusting it into his hand. "Right," chorussed the men;, "we'll have 'im." And so that night the intruder was installed at Flashing Camp. Young Hamilton had not been ;n the crimp very long before he had quite won the hearts of all the miners except Stubby. Stnbby had grown angry and more sullen than ever, and at once took a violent dislike to that "derned intruder." as he called him. But this was. doubtless, born of jealousy. For the rest, they would do anything for Hamilton. It was not so much his delicate looks that excited sympathy and interest. a-s his completely un- selfish ways and acts of kindness, which were so characteristic of their owner, and for which all were loud in their praise of him. True, he did not smoke, drink, or swear, but all these omissions, go essential to the majority, were overlooked with a partiality that was really remarkaMa. His fellow-miners could forgive him in this respect, because he had so many good qualities to make up for those ordinary wanting. Indeed, he had received much bar- ter, and not a little rough persuasion, when ha first declined to be as they, but they soon forgot it. and ceased to think about it. He gradually became to be an indispensable mem- ber of Flashing Camp. He wa", ever ready to do a good tarn, or tihare his food with friends. With the hplp of Urin" ajid a, w others, he bad built a small shanty, in which he always slept alone. This was another weakness to which he firmly adhered. But perhaps the most remarkable thing of all was the extraordinary friendship that had sprang up between him and.rough, big Stringy. Hamilton was always with Stringy; they worked together, walked together, and. in I fact. were almost inseparable. It really did one good to see the great, uncouth man, said to be a criminal, softened end influenced by his younger companion. The change came about so gradually that it was almost imper- ceptible; but, when it had become an accom- plished fact, the men recognised it with won- der, not unmixed with a little awe. and mar- velled greatly. They also saw how advan- tageous the great change was to Stringy—and to themselves, and surprise gave way to con- tentment and admiration. If Hamilton was popular. Stringy was quite as much so. and. let it be said to the men's credit, there was no jealousy. Things had been going very smoothly at Flashing Ca.mp for some time past: good dis- coverias of gold had been made; men were making their pile, and hoping to get home and live on the same. Nothing had occurred to disturb the equanimity of the little settlement, until one day the whole camp was in an up- roar on discovering that all Stringy's savings had been stolen How it had happened, no one could hazard a guess. When all had been digging at their claims, his shanty had been broken into, the gold taken, and every valu- able he possessed rifled That was a crushing biow for Stringy. All his years of hard work and savings were as naught. But he bore the brunt bravely. The camp was wild with excitenisnt and anger. Every effort was made to discover the thief, but it was all of no avail. Mutterings were heard about the "intruder," and Stubby was the first to accuse him. "8ay what you like. Stringy," he remarked one day, we never had anything of this sort before young Hamilton came, and mark me, boys, he's up to 110 ood," he wound up, turn- ing round to look at the men with an ugly leer on his face. 2'here was a flash of red shirt as Stringy darted across to Stubby, a rain of blows, and Stubby fell to the ground with a dull thud. A murmur of approval ran round the gathering. "If anv dog-darned fool dares to accuse %un¿; Hamilton again, that's how he'll he treated." cried Stringy, hoarsely, white with fury, and breathing thickly. "There isn't a finer or better feller in Columbia than young Hamilton, nor an honester one, and you all knows it. Take the ugly cuss away," pointing to Stubby: "it's him as knows more about the gold tha.n anyone in the camp, I reckon. The cuss- pall" anti he turned on his heel with an exclamation of disgust and loathing. after that it will be readily understood that Stubby had a hot time in Flashing Camp, and lived in terror of Stringy. Young Hajnil- ton ciung more affectionately to Stringy, with a persistency that was remarkable as it was beautiful. The two began their labours all over again, to peg a fresh claim and to dig from morning till night. Stringy was a deter- mined man. and meant to cry trumps yet. However, the keen blow of heavy loss had made h>m a changed man, but in his hour of trial Hamilton was his great comfort. The i accusation brought against Hamilton had made him gtispiciouf; of his companions. He would often start and flush crimson if spoken to, and seemed to be possessed <5f a nervous ¡ terror. One morning, as the miners were starting for their claims, Hamilton looked up the valley. Suddenly he turned as pale as death. "Stringy!" he called: "Stringy, they're coming," and he fell to the ground in a dead faint. "The police, darn 'em said one, as the mounted horsemen could be seen in the dis- tance. Then willing hands fell to reviving Hamil- ton. and a circle of miners sonn gathered round. In a moment Sharkey had undone hia shirt. Then a cry of surprise and astonish- ment ran through that group. "Yes. yes; I know, I know," cried Stringy, fighting his way through the crowd, all white surf trembling. "Hamilton's not a man, but a woman, and she's goin' to be my wife! The police have orders for her arrest for the mur- der of her mother, and God help her if she's found guilty. But she's not guilty, boys, she's not-, God knows it," he cried out in agony. The men, with white scared faces, stood silent and dnmfonnded. St ringy's grief touched their hardened hearts to the quick, and all the time the police galloped nearer and nearer. In a few minutes they reached the camp. An officer, bearing a warrant, dismounted and came towards them. "I h::we a, warrant for the arrest of Clara. Hamilton for the murder of her mother, Lucy Hamilton of Kentucky." he said callously. "The murderer is in Flashing Camp. Where is she?" I Then the miners saw fhe face of Stringy undergo an extraordinary change, as his face lit up with a, great love. "It's not Clara Hamilton at all. You're wrong. I'm the guilty one," he cried. "I give myself up." The men gasped with horror. They knew him to be as innocent as she. "I make one request to you. men," he said steadily, turning round and facing his com- panions. "take care of her-" pointing to Hamilton, and he smiled a little bitterly. Tenderly he imprinted one last kiss on the cold lips, and tenderly she w-is carried away from his view. Stringy was tandenffed. and as he was being led oway, he said hoarsely. "Good-bye, pards; thank you for your kind- ness to her—never let her know." As the cavalcade moved away, there was not a dry eye. among those who watched it. An hour afterwards. Stringy was hanging stark and stiff on a tree. The news spread like wildfire through Flash- ing Camp. No more work was done that day— Clara Hamiiton was the one thought. In a few words she was told that Stringy had been compelled to leave the camp. and that she could never see him again. It was many days before had recovered from the shock, and before she was able to return, in company with a few miners to Kent,acky-a changed woman. Stubby had mysteriously disappeared on the morning of the arrest. If those at Flashing Camp had been asked, they would have told you that he knew more about the gold and the murder than anyone else.