"It is a beautiful view,sir,"said Slinn,turning his happy eyes upon him for a moment,only to rest them again on the green slope opposite.
"Beyond that hill which you are looking at--not far,Senor Esslinn--I live.You shall come and see me there--you and your family.""You--you--live there?"stammered the invalid,with a troubled expression--the first and only change to the complete happiness that had hitherto suffused his face."You--and your name is--is Ma--""Alvarado,"said Don Caesar,gently.Caesar Alvarado.""You said Masters,"said the old man,with sudden querulousness.
"No,good friend.I said Alvarado,"returned Don Caesar,gravely.
"If you didn't say Masters,how could I say it?I don't know any Masters."Don Caesar was silent.In another moment the happy tranquillity returned to Slinn's face;and Don Caesar continued:--"It is not a long walk over the hill,though it is far by the road.
When you are better you shall try it.Yonder little trail leads to the top of the hill,and then--"He stopped,for the invalid's face had again assumed its troubled expression.Partly to change his thoughts,and partly for some inexplicable idea that had suddenly seized him,Don Caesar continued:--"There is a strange old stump near the trail,and in it a hole.In the hole I found this letter."He stopped again--this time in alarm.Slinn had staggered to his feet with ashen and distorted features,and was glancing at the letter which Don Caesar had drawn from his pocket.The muscles of his throat swelled as if he was swallowing;his lips moved,but no sound issued from them.At last,with a convulsive effort,he regained a disjointed speech,in a voice scarcely audible.
"My letter!my letter!It's mine!Give it me!It's my fortune--all mine!In the tunnel--hill!Masters stole it--stole my fortune!Stole it all!See,see!"He seized the letter from Don Caesar with trembling hands,and tore it open forcibly:a few dull yellow grains fell from it heavily,like shot,to the ground.
"See,it's true!My letter!My gold!My strike!My--my--my God!"A tremor passed over his face.The hand that held the letter suddenly dropped sheer and heavy as the gold had fallen.The whole side of his face and body nearest Don Caesar seemed to drop and sink into itself as suddenly.At the same moment,and without a word,he slipped through Don Caesar's outstretched hands to the ground.Don Caesar bent quickly over him,but no longer than to satisfy himself that he lived and breathed,although helpless.He then caught up the fallen letter,and,glancing over it with flashing eyes,thrust it and the few specimens in his pocket.He then sprang to his feet,so transformed with energy and intelligence that he seemed to have added the lost vitality of the man before him to his own.He glanced quickly up and down the highway.Every moment to him was precious now;but he could not leave the stricken man in the dust of the road;nor could he carry him to the house;nor,having alarmed his daughters,could he abandon his helplessness to their feeble arms.He remembered that his horse was still tied to the garden fence.He would fetch it,and carry the unfortunate man across the saddle to the gate.He lifted him with difficulty to the boulder,and ran rapidly up the road in the direction of his tethered steed.He had not proceeded far when he heard the noise of wheels behind him.It was the up stage coming furiously along.He would have called to the driver for assistance,but even through that fast-sweeping cloud of dust and motion he could see that the man was utterly oblivious of anything but the speed of his rushing chariot,and had even risen in his box to lash the infuriated and frightened animals forward.
An hour later,when the coach drew up at the Red Dog Hotel,the driver descended from the box,white,but taciturn.When he had swallowed a glass of whiskey at a single gulp,he turned to the astonished express agent,who had followed him in.
"One of two things,Jim,hez got to happen,"he said,huskily.
"Either that there rock hez got to get off the road,or I have.
I've seed HIM on it agin!"