E-text prepared by Al Haines
by
Author of "The Barrier," "The Spoilers"
Illustrated
1904
"Most all the old quotations need fixing," said Joyce in tonesforbidding dispute. "For instance, the guy that alluded to marriagesgerminating in heaven certainly got off on the wrong foot. He meantpardnerships. The same works ain't got capacity for both, no more'nyou can build a split-second stop-watch in a stone quarry. No, sir!A true pardnership is the sanctifiedest relation that grows, is, andhas its beans, while any two folks of opposite sect can marry and pegthe game out some way. Of course, all pardnerships ain't divine. Toevery one that's heaven borned there's a thousand made in ——.There goes them cussed dogs again!"
He dove abruptly at the tent flap, disappearing like a palmed coin,while our canvas structure reeled drunkenly at his impact. Thesounds of strife without rose shrilly into blended agony, and theyelps of Keno melted away down the gulch in a rapid and rabiddiminuendo.
Inasmuch as I had just packed out from camp in a loose pair of rubberboots, and was nursing two gall blisters, I did not feel called uponto emulate this energy of arbitration, particularly in bare feet.
"That black malamoot is a walking delegate for strife," he remarked,returning. "Sometime I'll lose my temper—and that's the kind ofpardners me and Justus Morrow was."
Never more do I interrupt the allegory of my mate, no matter howstartling its structure. He adventures orally when and in the mannerthe spirit calls, without rote, form, or tone production. ThereforeI kicked my blistered heels in the air and grunted aimlessencouragement.
"I was prospectin' a claim on Caribou Creek, and had her punched asfull of holes as a sponge cake, when the necessity of a changeappealed to me. I was out of everything more nourishing than hopeand one slab of pay-streaked bacon, when two tenderfeet 'mushed' upthe gulch, and invited themselves into my cabin to watch me pan.It's the simplest thing known to science to salt a tenderfoot, so Ididn't have no trouble in selling out for three thousand dollars.
"You see, they couldn't kick, 'cause some of us 'old timers' wasbound to get their money anyhow—just a question of time; and theirinexperience was cheap at the price. Also, they was real nice boys,and I hated to see 'em fall amongst them crooks at Dawson. It was ashort-horned triumph, though. Like the Dead Sea biscuits ofScripture, it turned to ashes in my mouth. It wasn't three dayslater that they struck it; right in my last shaft, within a foot ofwhere I quit diggin'. They rocked out fifty ounces first day. Whenthe news filtered to me, of course, I never made no holler. Icouldn't—that is, honestly—but I bought a six hundred dollar grubstake, loaded it aboard a dory, and—having instructed the traderregarding the disposition of my mortal, drunken remains, I fannedthrough that camp like a prairie fire shot in the sirloin with a hotwind.
"Of course, it wasn't such a big spree; nothing gaudy or Swedelike;but them that should know, claimed it was a model of refinement.Yes, I have got many encomiums