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Copper Princess, The

<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> <h3>A ROYAL NAME FOR A ROYAL MINE</h3> Peveril was greatly distressed at the unforeseen and mysterious disappearance of the Darrells; for it made him feel as though he had driven them from their home and usurped their rights. The place also seemed very empty and forlorn without Mary Darrell's winning face and all-pervading presence; for, though he had seen but little of her and had reason to believe that she did not feel kindly towards him, he now realized how much his happiness had depended on the knowledge that she was always close at hand. Then, too, the domestic establishment that ran on so smoothly under the supervision of Aunty Nimmo was completely broken up. Nelly Trefethen must, of course, return at once to Red Jacket, and this she did that very day on Mary Darrell's pony, under escort of Mike Connell, who was only too happy to make the journey on foot. The few men employed by Mr. Darrell having been paid off and discharged, the departure of his two remaining friends left the young proprietor entirely alone, in a place as desolate as though it were beyond the reach of human knowledge. The sky was overcast, making the day dark and cheerless, so that, as Peveril wandered disconsolately about his deserted property, the future looked to him as gloomy as the present. "There can't be anything in it," he said to himself, as he gazed moodily down the black mouth of the shaft. "Of course, the men who sank a fortune in that hole would have found it out long ago if there were. As for those prehistoric workings on which the major counts so largely, I don't believe but what the old fellows who opened them also made a pretty thorough clean-up of everything in them. Certainly the few small piles of copper that they left behind would not now pay for their removal. "It has all been very pleasant to dream of becoming a wealthy mine-owner, but the sooner I realize that it is only a dream, and wake from it to the necessity of earning a livelihood by hard work, the better off I shall be. At any rate, I know I won't spend another day alone in this place. If I did, I should go crazy. No wonder old man Darrell lost his mind under the conditions surrounding him. I don't believe Major Arkell will come back, anyway. Why should he, if, as is probable, he has discovered the utter worthlessness of the property? He knows that if he leaves me here alone I must turn up in Red Jacket sooner or later, and thinks the bad news he has to tell will keep until I do. Well, I shall throw the whole thing up to-morrow and go to him for a job. There isn't anything else for it that I can see. "I guess he will give me something to do, and after a while I shall rise to be a plat-man, or timber boss, or even store-keeper, and then—Well, then I can settle down and marry some nice girl like Nelly Trefethen, perhaps achieve fame as a local politician, and so end my days in a blaze of glory. Oh, it's a lovely prospect! As for poor Rose, there's no use in thinking any longer of her, and the sooner she forgets me the better. Probably she has ere this, and, if so, I can't blame her." At length the long day dragged itself wearily away, and darkness found Peveril faint with hunger, for he had not had the heart to prepare a dinner, awkwardly attempting to provide himself with something to eat in Aunty Nimmo's kitchen. A single lamp threw a faint ray out from the window, and in all that forlorn little mining village it was the only gleam of light to be seen. Suddenly there came a clatter of hoofs and a cheery "Hello, the house!" Instantly forgetful of his culinary operations, Peveril sprang to the door, just in time to fling it open and welcome Major Arkell, who was alighting from a weary-looking horse. "What will you take for your Copper Princess, my boy?" shouted the new-comer as he entered the room, rubbing his hands and sniffing expectantly at the pleasant odors of cooking with which it was pervaded. "About five cents," responded Peveril. "Done! It's a bargain," cried the other. "And we'll settle the details of the transfer after eating the elegant supper that I discover in process of preparation. But you are not cooking half enough. I could eat twice as much as that and still be hungry. Let me show you how. What has become of Aunty Nimmo, that I find you presiding over her domain? Never mind; tell me later, after you've called Connell or some one to look after my horse." "I will gladly attend to the horse, major, if you will take charge of the cooking," said Peveril, laughing for the first time that day. "You see, I am not an expert at this sort of thing, and—" "No, I should judge not," interrupted the other, glancing comically at the various burned, lumpy, and muddy failures with which the stove was covered; "but I'll do the trick for you if you will look after the beast." Half an hour later the two sat down to a bountiful and fairly well-cooked meal that in the major's cheery company seemed to poor, hungry Peveril about as fine a one as he had ever eaten. While it was in progress he told of the happenings of the past week, including the mysterious disappearance of the Darrells; but, as the major did not seem to have any news to impart in return, he concluded that there was none to tell, and so forbore to ask questions. It was not until after they had finished supper and were sitting before a cheerful blaze in the cosey living-room of the Darrell house that the major said: "Now for our bargain. Though I could, of course, hold you to that five-cent deal, I won't do so, but will, instead, make an offer of ten thousand dollars for one-half of your half-interest in the Copper Princess." "What!" gasped Peveril. "Yes, I mean it; and, in addition, if you will devote that sum to the development of the mine, I will advance an equal amount, or ten thousand dollars more, for the same purpose. Now don't say a word until I have explained the situation. By a careful searching of old records and maps I have discovered that the Princess property not only embraces our prehistoric mine, but extends some distance beyond it. I think I have also found out why those who originally laid out this mine started their cuts on the wrong side of their shaft. They evidently knew that ancient workings existed somewhere in this neighborhood, but they were deceived as to their location, for on all the maps I find them marked, but the place thus indicated is always in the opposite direction from that in which we now know them to lie." "But—" began Peveril. "Wait a minute. Of course those old fellows may merely have struck a pocket and exhausted it, but I don't believe so, and am willing to risk twenty thousand dollars on the continuance of the vein. If it is there, that sum of money ought to enable us to reach it from your present shaft; and if we do strike it, why, in the slang of the day, the Copper Princess is simply a 'peach.' Are you game to accept my offer and go in for raising that kind of fruit?" "I certainly am." "Good! Shake. The bargain is made, and the sooner we get to work the better." Ten days from that time sees the legal formalities of that quickly concluded bargain settled, and the mining village of Copper Princess presenting a vastly different appearance from what it did on the melancholy day when Peveril was its sole occupant. All its houses are now occupied, and from every window cheery lights stream out with the coming of evening shadows. Peveril occupies the comfortable quarters so long ago provided for the manager, and until recently the home of the Darrells. With him lives a young engineer of about his own age, recommended by Major Arkell, and here, too, are the several offices. The nearest cottage to it is that of our old friends the Trefethens—for Mark Trefethen is captain of the mine, and Tom is shaft boss. Mrs. Trefethen and Nelly have their hands full in caring for both these houses and in providing meals for their occupants. Mike Connell is timber boss, and, in timbering the ancient mine, as well as the new workings, is one of the busiest men in the place. Although he has a cottage of his own, it is still a lonely one, and he is looking eagerly forward to the time when the anxiously expected vein shall be struck. Then, and not until then—and, in case it is not struck at all, perhaps never—will Nelly Trefethen become his wife. So it is no wonder that the impatient fellow descends the shaft each day to anxiously inspect the new work. With nearly one hundred sturdy miners engaged on it, and the other tasks necessary to its progress, it is driven by night as well as by day, and in reality advances with great rapidity, though to Connell it seems to creep by inches. The great chimney pours forth clouds of smoke, heavy skips hurry up and down the shaft, there is always a cheerful ring of anvils, rafts of logs lie in the land-locked basin, men and teams are to be seen in every direction, and everywhere is heard the inspiring hum of many industries, though as yet not one pound of copper has been brought up from the underground depths. For weeks and months the work goes on with unabated energy. Peveril, always willing to listen to advice and never ashamed to ask it from those more experienced than himself, is everywhere, seeing to everything and directing everything. Though he is thinner than when we first met him, and his face has taken on an anxious look, it wears at the same time an expression of greater manliness, self-confidence, and determination. Major Arkell has not yet appeared on the scene in person, and only the young proprietor is known as the responsible head of all this bewildering activity. It is bewildering to outsiders to see the long-abandoned "Darrell's Folly" suddenly transformed into one of the busiest mining-camps of the copper region, for as yet no one, except Connell and the Trefethens, knows the secret hopes of the proprietors. Even those who are driving the new side-cut far beneath the surface, straight as a die towards the prehistoric mine, though on a much lower level, know not what they are expected to find. At length three months have passed since the night on which Peveril sold for ten thousand dollars an undivided half of his interest in the Copper Princess. Since that time he has not once left the scene of his labors, his hopes, and his fears. He has not even visited Red Jacket since the morning, that now seems so long ago, when he left it in charge of a gang of log-wreckers. Now the money put into this new venture is very nearly exhausted. It will hold out for one more pay-day, but that is all. And as yet only barren rock has come up from that yawning shaft that seems to gulp down money with an appetite at once inordinate and insatiable. A huge pile of rock has accumulated about its mouth. If it were copper rock it would be worth a fortune; as it is, it is worse than worthless, for it contains only disappointed hopes. And yet a point directly beneath the ancient workings has been reached and passed. Is the quest a vain one, after all? Is Peveril's as great a folly as Darrell's ever was? It would seem so; and the young proprietor's heart is heavy within him. He has just received the letter in which Mary Darrell declares the Copper Princess to be a worthless property. With it in his pocket he visits the mouth of the shaft, intending to descend. As he approaches it, a skip containing several men comes to the surface. When they emerge into daylight they are yelling in delirious excitement. One of them leaps out and runs towards him, shouting incoherently. It is Mike Connell. What had gone wrong? Has there been some terrible accident underground? "We've struck it, Mister Peril! We've struck the vein, and it's the richest ever knowed!" yells the Irishman. "Here's a specimen. Did ever you see the like? It's gold—nothing less! Hooray for us! Hooray for the Princess! and hooray for Nell Trefethen, that'll be Mrs. Michael Connell this day week, plaze God!" A few minutes later every cottage in the settlement holds specimens of the wonderful rock glistening with glowing metal. Every man is cheering himself hoarse. The great steam-whistle is shrieking out the glorious news, and Richard Peveril, with heavy pockets, is riding like mad in the direction of Red Jacket. The Copper Princess—a royal name for a royal mine—has at last entered as a power the ranks of the world's wealth-yielding properties. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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