FAMOUS CASTLEMON BOOKS.

Other Volumes in Preparation.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by R. W. CARROLL & CO., In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

Copyright, 1904, by Charles A. Fosdick.

v

CONTENTS.

7

SNOWED UP; OR, THE SPORTSMAN’S CLUB IN THE MOUNTAINS.

CHAPTER I. A DISPUTE.

“Did you ever hear tell of sich a thing afore, Zack?”

“I never did in all my born days—never! The idee of this little snipe comin’ out here, fresh from the States, an’ tellin’ a man like me, what’s done nothin’ but guide wagon-trains acrosst the prairie fur the last ten years—the idee of his tellin’ me that I am losin’ the hul kit an’ bilin’ of you, an’ that I am doin’ it a purpose! I say it’s ridikilis, an’ I won’t stand it. Here, Sile, hold my gun till I make him chaw them words of his’n!”

8

“You are very much mistaken in me, my friend,” replied a calm voice, which contrasted strangely with the excited guide’s insolent tones. “I may be fresh from the States, but I have seen more of prairie life than you seem to imagine. At any rate, I know enough about it to be sure that you are not on the road to the Fort.”

This conversation took place one bright morning, between our old friend Archie Winters, and two rough looking frontiersmen, who answered to the names of Zack and Silas. The latter stood leaning on his rifle, and glaring down at the boy before him as if he meant to destroy him by the angry glances from his eyes, while Zack was rolling up his sleeves and making other demonstrations which showed a desire on his part to fight somebody. Close by Archie’s side were his two inseparable companions, Fred Craven and Eugene Gaylord, who sat in their saddles, being mounted on the same horses they had ridden from Salt Lake City to Fort Bolton. Eugene held Archie’s old horse by the bridle, while Archie’s attention was about equally divided between9 the two trappers and a small bay steed, with black points and a white star in his forehead, to which he was clinging with both hands. The horse bore Archie’s saddle strapped firmly on his back, and was kept in partial subjection by a rawhide lasso, which was twisted tightly about his lower jaw, the ends being passed over the animal’s neck and

around the horn of the saddle to serve as a bridle. Like Roderick and King James, this horse had a history which shall be related in due time.

Around this group which we have described were gathered a dozen or more emigrants, men, women and children, who waited impatiently to hear what would be said next, and looked first at the guides and then at Archie, as if trying to discover something in their faces that would aid them in deciding between the disputants. A little distance away stood two wagons, the mules and oxen harnessed and yoked and ready to start; but there was a wide difference of opinion between Archie and the guides on a matter that was of vital importance to the emigrants,10 and they could not think of resuming their journey until it had been settled.

Having made his preparations for a pugilistic encounter, with as much care and deliberation as he would have exhibited had he been about to measure strength with a person of his own stature and weight, Zack once more addressed himself to Archie.

“We was all quiet an’ peaceable like till you come,” said he; “but since you dropped down amongst us all of a sudden, like you had come from the clouds, an’ without nobody’s askin’ you to come, thar’s been a rumpus goin’ on the hul time.”

“The rumpus, as you call it, was all raised by you,” returned Archie. “You’ve had a good many remarks to make about us, but we have kept silent.”

“Now you can jest toddle off about your business, if you’ve got any,” coutinued Zack, “or take what follows. I haint agoin’ to waste no time a waitin’ on you, nuther.”

“We have business,” answered Archie, “but we11 are in no great hurry to attend to it. The prairie is as free to us as it is to you, and when we get tired of staying here, we’re going to Fort Bolton.”

“So be we,” said Zack.

“How far do you call it from here?” asked Archie.

“A matter of thirty miles, mebbe.”

“And which way?”

“Off thar,” said Zack, extending his arm toward the north-west.

“Well, I say it is off there,” replied Archie, pointing in just the opposite direction, “and distant about three days’ journey. I ought to know, for I have just come from there.”

“What brought you so far away from the Fort?” asked one of the emigrants.

“As we told you last night, we have been following a drove of wild horses, trying to catch one of them.”

“An’ as we told you last night, that’s a likely story,” said Zack, glancing at Silas, who nodded12 assent. “You’re purty lookin’ fellers to ketch a wild hoss, haint you now!”

“Well, here’s the horse, any how,” returned Archie, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the animal he was holding. “If you don’t believe he is wild, just put yourself within reach of his heels, if you dare. We followed the drove he was in for three days and more, and that’s what brought us so far from the Fort.”

“An’ that’s how you come to be teetotally turned round an’ lost,” added Zack. “You fellers can do as you like about it, but I tell you that if you foller them young cubs you’ll never see Fort Bolton the longest day you live.”

This last remark was called forth by a movement on the part of the emigrants, who, in response to a sign from one of their number, drew a little apart to hold a consultation. Their actions led Zack to mistrust that they were on the point of deciding against him, and this seemed to increase the feelings of animosity which, for some unaccountable reason,13 he had shown toward Archie and his friends ever since they first appeared in the emigrant camp.

“If they do go with you I’ll allow they won’t have much to foller,” said Zack, in savage tones, “cause I’ll wallop you till thar ain’t nothing left of you.”

“I don’t see why you should want to do that,” answered Archie. “These people are nothing to you, and it can make no difference to you whether they go your way or mine.”

“Then what odds does it make to you?” demanded Silas.

“None whatever. They told us they wanted to go to Bolton, and as we were going right there we offered to show them the way.”

“More like you want to show ’em the way to some place in the mountains whar you can rob ’em,” snapped Zack.

“O, come now,” returned Archie, “that’s rather too far-fetched. I’ve seen whole families composed of such as you. There are some of them in irons now at the Fort.”

14

“What do you mean by that?” demanded Zack.

“I mean that there are some men of your calling in irons now in Fort Bolton,” repeated Archie, not in the least terrified by the expression of almost ungovernable fury which settled on the man’s face. “That’s what I mean. Have a care,” he added, as Zack dashed his hat upon the ground with an angry exclamation and started fiercely toward him. “I have a friend here who will not see me imposed upon.”

As Archie spoke he swung himself around beside the horse he was holding, which, believing no doubt that the boy was about to mount him, turned swiftly, thus presenting his heels toward the advancing guide, who halted very suddenly.

“He knows how to handle his feet,” continued Archie, “and I believe he can kick your hat off your head the first time trying. Suppose you put it on and let him make the attempt.”

Zack did not see fit to accept this proposition, and neither did he renew his hostile demonstrations. Whether it was because he did not think it quite15 safe to trust himself too close to the horse’s heels, or for the reason that he did not like the looks of the sixteen-shooters which Eugene and Featherweight promptly unslung from their backs, we have no means of knowing. Perhaps it was because the emigrants had brought their consultation to an end, and having decided upon their course, came up to announce what it was.

“Are you sure you are right?” asked an old white-headed man, addressing himself to Archie.

“Yes, sir, as sure as I can be,” was the reply. “We have taken pains to keep our bearings, and I am certain that if we have no bad luck, we shall be in Bolton in less than three days. We shall travel as nearly south-east as we can to get there, too.”

“Well, we have concluded to trust ourselves to you. Bring on the wagons, boys.”

“You’ll never see the Fort,” said Zack, whose rage was so great that he could scarcely make himself understood.

None of the emigrants made any reply. The16 women and children were assisted into the wagons, and the drivers climbed to their seats and drove after Eugene and Featherweight, who rode off over the prairie. Archie had some difficulty in mounting his steed, for the animal persisted in keeping his head toward him, and it was only after repeated efforts that the boy managed to seize the horn of the saddle and swung himself upon the horse’s back. Even after he got there the animal did not seem disposed to permit him to remain, for he straightway began to kick and plunge furiously. But Archie had not lived among the Rancheros of California for nothing. By thrusting the long rowels of his Mexican spurs through the hair-girth with which his saddle was strapped to the horse’s back, he was able to keep a secure seat in spite of the furious efforts made to dislodge him; and when at last his nag was wearied with his fruitless struggles, he urged him into a lope, and in a few seconds drew up beside his friends at the head of the wagon-train.

17

CHAPTER II. WHAT ARCHIE KNEW ABOUT MONEY.

The gray-headed man before spoken of, whom the boys had put down as the father of one of the two stalwart young men who were driving the wagons, was riding Archie’s old horse, which Eugene had offered him, and was talking earnestly with Fred and his companion. It was plain that the subject of their conversation was either an exciting or an alarming one, for the old man’s face was as white as a sheet, and his voice trembled when he addressed Archie.

“Do you think those men were wilfully misleading us, or that they were lost like ourselves?” he asked.

“They certainly were not lost,” answered Archie. “Men of their stamp don’t get lost on the prairies.”

18

“What object could they have had in view in taking us so far out of our way?”

“I am sure I do not know, unless they had reason to believe that there is something of value in your wagons.”

“Did they mean to rob us?” cried the old man, in great alarm.

“Their actions were suspicious, to say the least,” returned Archie, who did not care to say anything that would add to the old man’s terror. “But you are safe from them now. If they come about your camp again, all you have to do is to order them away.”

“I certainly have something of value with me,” continued the emigrant, after a moment’s pause, “and I am not afraid to trust you with the secret, for you look honest. There’s a million dollars and more in that first wagon.”

“Whew!” whistled Archie. “And did they know it?”

“They did, for I told them.”

“Well, I wish you hadn’t done it.”

19

That was what Archie said aloud; but to himself he added: “You ought to have a guardian appointed for you, old as you are.”

The emigrant said nothing after this. The knowledge that he had harbored robbers in his camp for the last three days made a deep impression on him, and he gradually fell back beside the wagons, where he seemed resolved to remain. He wanted to keep a sharp eye on his treasure.

“That is the most simple thing that a grown person was ever guilty of,” said Archie, as soon as the old man was out of hearing. “Why couldn’t he keep still? I’ll tell you what’s a fact, fellows,” he added, after thinking a moment, “if there are any more men like Zack and Sile loose in this neighborhood, I’d rather be alone on the prairie than to stay with these wagons.”

“Do you think we shall see them again?” inquired Eugene.

“Do you suppose that men like those will let so much money slip through their fingers if they can help it?” asked Archie, in reply.

20

“More than a million dollars,” exclaimed Featherweight. “What shape is it in, I wonder?”

“If I had that amount of money, I’d travel in a little better style than he does,” said Eugene. “He and his family are all in rags, and his mules and oxen look like the breaking up of a hard winter. He’s an old miser.”

“He may have an object in it,” said Featherweight. “Perhaps he doesn’t want any one to suspect that he is worth so much.”

“Then why does he go and tell it?” demanded Eugene. “I wonder if it is in gold or silver!”

“Neither,” said Archie.

“How do you know?”

“I just guess at it.”

“But you must have something to go by in your guessing. I wonder how much a million dollars in gold would weigh!”

“If it was in eagles, it wouldn’t fall very far short of thirty-five hundred pound, avoirdupois,” said Archie.

21

“How much?” cried both the boys, opening their eyes wide with amazement.

Archie repeated his statement, adding:

“You know that such articles as gold, silver and precious stones are weighed by Troy weight. If you could put a hundred thousand gold eagles (that would be just a million dollars) on one side of a jeweller’s scales, it would take a four thousand pound weight on the other to balance them.”A

“Well, there’s no such weight in that rickety old wagon,” said Eugene, as soon as he had recovered from his surprise. “It wouldn’t hold it up. It must be in greenbacks.”

“How large an amount in greenbacks do you suppose you could carry?” asked Archie. “I22 mean in small bills, ranging from ones up to twenties.”

“O, I could carry all you could pile on me,” said Fred, confidently, “two or three million, probably.”

“Yes, and five or six million,” said Eugene.

“That’s much better than I can do,” said Archie, with a laugh, “and while I was in the Fleet Paymaster’s office during the war, I had more than one opportunity to try my hand at it. We used to get drafts from Washington on the sub-treasury in St. Louis, calling for two hundred thousand dollars. When the chief went up to draw the money I generally went with him, taking with me two large carpet-bags to bring the greenbacks home in. The money was put up in square packages of such size that two of them were all I could get into each carpet-bag. It was my business, after the money was drawn, to look out for it until we reached Cairo. In carrying it from the sub-treasury to the Planter’s House, where we always stopped—I forget just how many blocks I had to walk—I was always obliged23 to rest at least once on the way, and to put the carpet-bags down for a minute or two on the steps of the hotel before going up to my room.”

“And only two hundred thousand dollars in them?” cried Fred.

“Are greenbacks as heavy as that?” exclaimed Eugene.

“They made my arms ache, I assure you,” replied Archie, “and I was glad when they were safe in the strong box at Cairo. Now, judging by that, how much do you think a million in small bills would weigh?”

“O, I’ll not make a guess,” said Featherweight. “I don’t want to show how ignorant I am.”

“Do you suppose you could lift it?”

“Well—no; could I?”

“Hardly; and to prove it to you, I will tell you a little circumstance. You perhaps remember that during the war the steamer Ruth was burned, having on board about four and a half millions of dollars, intended for the payment of the troops stationed along the river. She was supposed to24 have been set on fire by some members of the rebel secret service; but when it got abroad that the money was all lost, people began to accuse the paymasters who had charge of it with being in some way mixed up with its disappearance. Everybody knows that when a Mississippi river steamer gets on fire she burns like so much paper; but still there were those who thought that the money might have been brought off. Why didn’t the paymasters—there were four of them, and that would have been just about a million apiece—save it while they were saving themselves? There were plenty of soldiers to guard it, and why didn’t some of them catch it up and swim ashore with it? It could have been easily done, so people said, and the fact that it was not done started the story that the money was not

on board the Ruth at all—the paymasters had pocketed it, and burned the boat to cover its loss.

“About this time it so happened that our chief went to St. Louis alone after money; but having forgotten the draft, he telegraphed to me to bring it up to him. I left Cairo on Sunday afternoon, and25 not being able to make connections at Odin, was obliged to stop over until the next morning. The only hotel in the town being full, the proprietor put me into a room with a gentleman in citizen’s clothes, who had in his possession a cigar box which he handled as carefully as if it had been a torpedo. Having so valuable a piece of paper about me, I was, of course, somewhat particular as to the company I kept. I was naturally anxious to know something about my room-mate, and a reference to the hotel register showed me that he was an army paymaster. Of course, I felt perfectly safe in his presence after I found that out. I scraped an acquaintance with him, and he turned out to be one of the paymasters who was on board the Ruth when she was burned. Before we retired he showed me the contents of his box. It was the charred remains of a package of greenbacks which he had

recovered from the wreck, and which he was taking to Washington to prove to the authorities there that the money had really been destroyed.”

26

“Did he tell you why it was not saved?” asked Eugene.

“He did, and the reason was this: The money was packed away in four iron-bound boxes, each of which was so large and heavy that it took eight men to carry it from the forecastle up the stairs to the boiler deck where the money was kept under guard. Wouldn’t a paymaster have looked nice swimming ashore with one of those boxes under his arm?”

The two boys gazed at Archie a moment in mute surprise, and then faced about with a common impulse and looked at the wagon behind them in which the emigrant said his treasure was stowed away. Whatever it was, it must have been something that did not weigh much, for the mules walked along easily and rapidly, and their traces were slack more than half of the time. The boys had learned something. Their curiosity had been aroused too, and they were impatient for the camping hour to arrive in order that they might, if possible, obtain a glimpse of the box containing the27 emigrant’s wealth. What could it be? And with this inquiry arose another. Since the emigrant had been so very imprudent as to tell Zack and Silas that he had something with him worth a million dollars, was not the vicinity of that wagon-train a dangerous place for them? The boys began to think so, and to wish most heartily that they had never seen it.

A There may be those who will be as surprised to read this as Fred and Eugene were to hear it. If they doubt the accuracy of Archie’s statement, and will go to the trouble to make a calculation, taking as a basis the weight of a gold eagle, which is about 11 pwts. and 6 grs., and bearing in mind that a pound Troy contains 5760 grains and a pound avoirdupois 7000 grains, they will find that he spoke within bounds.

28

CHAPTER III. ARCHIE MAKES A TRADE.