CHAPTER LX.

THE HOTTEST PLACE IN THE MINE.

“Curbstone brokers” and many other dabblers in stocks rely a good deal upon “points” obtained from miners, in regard to what is going on in the lower levels of the mines. It probably happens once in a while that a miner gives some friend on the “outside” early news of a rich strike in the mine in which he is employed, but it is generally on condition that the “outsider” purchase and carry for him a considerable amount of the stock of the mine.

In order to keep himself well informed in regard to the mines in this way, the speculator must not only have a man in each mine but must have a man on nearly every level of each mine, as the miners are not allowed to ramble about at will in the lower levels of any of the leading mines. To fee a man on each level of half a dozen mines, even, would be a very expensive means of obtaining early information.

As the miner who is merely receiving a fee occasionally for such “points” as he may be able to furnish is desirous of receiving a “price” as frequently as possible, he is somewhat addicted to the manufacture in a dull time.

Men working in a large and strictly-regulated mine have little opportunity of knowing when a development has been made at a particular point in a mine, or anything about the value of any body of ore that may be encountered.

When a cross-cut is being run at a point where it is thought that ore will be found, the work is carried on by what is called a “secret shift.” This shift is composed of the oldest and most trustworthy men in the mine—men who will work for weeks in a drift that sparkles with native silver and yet remain as mute as the same number of oysters, when above, circulating among those of the surface-world. These secret-shift men generally find their silence profitable. They are helped to a few shares of the stock at the low figure at which it is probably selling when the ore is found, and pocket whatever advance there may be in the stock when the nature and extent of the new development have been made known.

The men working on a secret shift are not sworn to secrecy, and it is seldom that they are even pledged—they know why they are selected, and what is expected of them. When a secret has been divulged and the guilty person cannot be discovered, every man on that shift is discharged, and not one of them will again be employed on a secret shift in any mine until the real culprit has been found. Men working in any kind of place in the mines are very cautious about telling what is going on underground, as any valuable information given on the surface is soon sown broadcast, and is not long in reaching the ear of the superintendent, foreman, or some other officer of the mine, when it is quickly traced to the man who brought it up from the lower levels. This being the case, many of the men, when “pumped” for “points,” invent some story of a rich development at some point in the mine where all is country rock or mere barren porphyry. These stories circulate as rapidly as the others, but a quiet smile is all the attention they receive from the officers of the mine—they, at such times, remain mute and neutral.

During the great stock excitement in 1872, a gentleman who had several thousand dollars that he desired to invest in stocks, cultivated the acquaintance of a man who had the appearance of being a miner, and soon gave him to understand that in case he could give him any points in regard to what was going on in certain mines, they would invest and divide the profits. The man thus “approached” was a miner, but was out of employment, was at work in no mine on the lead. However, he was willing to do something. He saw that the gentleman in search of points was a stranger in the town, and felt that a good thing to do would be to take him in. Therefore points were promised. In a day or two the alert miner made his appearance at the hotel of the stranger, and beckoning him out, furnished him a big point in regard to a grand development in a certain Gold Hill mine, and a large number of shares were at once purchased.

This was just at the beginning of the excitement, and the next day there was a considerable advance in the price of the stock. The man of points said the newly-discovered ore-body was improving. Day after day the stock continued to rise, and the pseudo-miner swore it was the richest thing he ever saw in any mine on the Comstock. He seemed greatly excited, and was not made easy in mind until he had sworn the gentleman to secrecy, saying that if even a whisper in regard to the strike got abroad he would lose his place—would almost be kicked out of the mine.

What the fellow said about the strike seemed to be gospel truth, as the next day after he had described the appearance of the silver-caverns in which he was daily delving, the stock went up like a rocket in the San Francisco Stock Board.

“Aha!” cried the gentleman, “they have found it out already down at the Bay!”

For two or three days the stock “boomed”—for every stock was just then booming—then it began to go down a little and “see-sawed” for a day or two. As soon as the latter symptom became manifest, the well-informed miner came to his stranger friend wearing a long face and told him to sell at once. The gentleman was inclined to think that by holding on a day or two the stock would go to a higher figure than it had yet reached, but on hearing this the miner came out with another great secret, and the stranger was again sworn. The ore-body had pinched out in porphyry, and in cross-cutting through what at first appeared to be a vast body of immensely rich ore, it had been found a mere shell, all the rest was barren quartz. Hearing this, the gentleman sold at once, and the pair of speculators divided over §6,000 profit. The joke of the whole affair was that no work was being done in the mine whose stock they had been dealing in, nor had a pick been struck in any part of it for over two years.

[Illustration: THE HOTTEST PLACE.]

Some of the pranks of the miners are quite amusing. The following is an instance: At the time that the 1,400-foot level of the Crown Point mine was being opened, and while it was boiling hot, a Frenchman, a stranger and a very suave and enthusiastic young man withal, called at the hoisting-works and asked permission to descend and examine the lower-levels. The foreman was very busy at the time, and would have refused the request had it been preferred in language less polite or manner less eager and earnest. But, seeing the man’s soul in his eyes, and that he was almost trembling with excess of desire, he thought it would be positive cruelty to deny him the favor he craved. After some hesitation, with the Frenchman’s pleading eyes still fixed upon him, the foreman said it was not a proper time for admitting visitors; that he was particularly engaged at the moment and could not accompany him; yet, some miners being about to descend to the lower levels, he might, if so inclined, go down in their company. The little Frenchman was delighted. It was just the arrangement that suited him, and he was profuse in his thanks.

Leaving the native of “sunny France” for a moment, the foreman advanced to where the workmen were preparing to descend the shaft, and told them he was going to send a Frenchman down with them to see the lower levels, and that one of them could bring him up after he had satisfied his curiosity. Being somewhat vexed at having to send the man down at all, the foreman added to his other instructions: “And, confound him, put him into the hottest hole you can find!”

“All right, sir,” cheerily answered the men.

The Frenchman was told to get aboard the cage, when down he was sent in the same clothing in which he came to the mine—coat, hat, and all. Now the miners in whose hands the Frenchman had fallen, were all fellows of “infinite jest”—ready for any kind of deviltry. They considered that in the parting words of their foreman—“Put him into the hottest place you can find,” they were given permission to play the Frenchman almost any trick their humor might suggest.

On arriving at the 1,400-foot level, while moving about lighting candles, the plan hit upon for “doing” their French friend was whispered among the miners. They showed their man about for a time, greatly to his delight. He admired everything; yet he could but exclaim occasionally: “Begar zee atmosphere which exist here be fearful intemperate!” At length the miners informed the visitor that they were about to conduct him to the most interesting point in the mine—to the most advanced drift, the place in which all the hopes of the company were centered. They honestly stated that the place was very hot, but if he could stand the heat he should see a spot the eye of no “outsider” had yet viewed, but which many would give thousands of dollars to behold.

“Oh,” cried the Frenchman, “it will be one grand plaisir! I sall be ver delighted! Nossing could be more agreeable. Bote, now zat I sink of it, I would prefer zat I have leave me coat at zee surface.”

The miners led the way to a long drift, in the end of which had been bored a deep drill-hole, from which flowed a stream of water so hot that eggs had actually been boiled in it in a few minutes. All of the rock forming the walls of the drift was so hot that to place the naked hand upon it was painful. The crowbars and drills lying back near the face of the drift were so hot that they could not be handled.

Into the very end of this drift the miners led the enthusiastic little man, and began showing him the ore there to be seen. Soon the perspiration poured in streams from his face and a small rill ran from the end of his nose. He opened his vest and clutched at his necktie to get air, but still he was not utterly discouraged. Said he, rubbing the water from his eyes: “How ver true it is for you gentlemen vich vork in zee mines what is observe in zee Bible, in zee curse to the first parent—‘In zee perspiration of you forehead sall you eat of zee loaf of bread! ’”

About this time, in some unaccountable way, all of the candles at once went out. Pitchy darkness prevailed. The miners charged their French friend to stand perfectly still and they would go out and re-light their candles. The poor devil only said:

“Vell, vell, ziz is to me incomprehensible and must be one chance extraordenaire for all zee candaile to become extinguish so very instantaneous. Je suppose it was one accident. Make all zee dispatch vich is possible. Zee heat of zee atmosphere is indescriptible!” Soon after this little scene in the drift, Sam Jones, superintendent of the mine, came along through the level with a lantern in his hand. Much to his surprise, he found several men standing in the dark before a drift, the mouth of which they had carefully closed with “logging” and pieces of boards.

“Hello!” cried he, “what are you all doing here in the dark? And why is the mouth of this drift closed?” No one volunteered a remark, each waiting for the other probably.

“Have you seen a young Frenchman on this level?” asked the superintendent, “the foreman above tells me he sent him down here.”

Now some one _had_ to speak.

“Yes;” said one of the men, “he is here.”

“Here! Where?”

“Back in the end of the drift.”

“What in thunder is he doing there?”

“Waiting for a light, I think.”

“In the devil’s name! what trick is this?” cried the superintendent. “Don’t you know that the man is an ex-count and a big French banker—a man of note?”

“Can’t help that. The foreman told us to show him the hottest place in the mine, and we’re a-showin’ it to him—and makin’ it as hot for him as we know how.”

In an instant the superintendent had torn away the planks and logging, and was making his way back, lantern in hand, to where the poor devil of a Frenchman was roasting—literally roasting, for the whole drift was as hot as a furnace seven times heated, and the man was more dead than alive. Elevating his lantern, to get a view of the foreign gentleman, the superintendent found him standing with coat and vest across his arm, and collar and necktie in his hand. He was wilted till as limber as a dish-rag.

“Ze Cod on ’bove be praise,” he cried, “zat you have come! I am just on zee point to expire. Zee distemperament of zee place have increase immediatement after you retire in more as ten-fold progression.” Then, wiping the blinding perspiration from his eyes, he surveyed Mr. Jones for a moment in surprise. “Ah! pardon me monsieur,” he cried, “I have not first zee plaisir to behold you before. I mistake you for zee gentlemen who have depart wis the purpose to re-enlight zee candaile. Excuse me zat I trouble you wis zee narration, bote we meet here wis one leetle accident, sare; one leetle accident which have, how you call it? exterminate, estinguis’ zee entire of the candaile, sare.”

“I am sorry that anything so unpleasant should have occurred,” said the superintendent, “and I assure you, sir, I shall look into this matter.”

“You are too kind, monsieur—too kind! I assure you sare, zat I have remain here until zis moment in parfaite tranquilety; bote now, sare, I vill depart, if you please. Vill you have zee complaisance to put me on zee machine, and elevate me to zee surfaice immediatement? My God, sare, I expire wis zee heat! Elevate me, monsieur, wis dispatch—wis all dispatch. I vill not remain for zee gentleman who have go wis zee purpose to re-enlight zee candaile. Some ozzaire time I vill make zem my apology.”

In all haste the superintendent led the way to the main shaft, the polite little Frenchmen hurrying after, saying: “Yes, some ozzaire time I moos make to zem my apology.” They were soon aboard the cage, and, a minute after, at the 1100-foot level. Here the superintendent was obliged to stop a few minutes, but told the Frenchman that if he would get off and wait, they would go up together on the next cage. But to this the half-dead man would not listen. He stuck to the cage like grim death, and said:

“Let zee machine continue to ascend up, if you please, sare, I vill be elevate on zee surfaice promptment—wis all despatch, sare.”

The superintendent then sent a trusty miner up with the roasted ex-count. When daylight was reached the little fellow was himself again.

“Ah!” cried he, “how ver’ beautiful is zee cool air, zee light of zee glorious sun, and all of God’s work, how grand! I have make one terrible experience; bote I would not have miss him, sare, no, not for many dollaires!”

He then tried to make the man who came up the shaft with him accept a five-dollar gold piece. Not succeeding in this he made him go with him to the nearest saloon and get a glass of beer. Not satisfied with this, and the men below again coming into his mind, he paid the barkeeper for two buckets of beer, telling the miner with him that he wished it given to the men who went to light the candle.

“I have,” said he, “been ver impolite to come away before zee return of zee gentlemen who have gone to re-enlight zee candaile. Veil, zat was one ver curious accident and bring to me one ver terrible experience of zee discomfort of zee heat at zat place of remarkable interest.”

Although the French count doubtless suffered terribly while shut up in the drift, with boiling water and heated rock all about him, his “discomfort,” after all, was not much greater than was that of the miners who played him the trick while drinking the beer he sent them—though their torture was of a different kind. Most amply, yet most innocently, had the Frenchman avenged himself.

[Illustration]