The Copper Princess: A Story of Lake Superior Mines Read online

  CHAPTER I

  STARTLING INTRODUCTION OF TOM TREFETHEN

  "Look out, there!"

  "My God, he is under the wheels!"

  The narrow-gauge train for Red Jacket had just started from theHancock station, and was gathering quick headway for its first steepgrade, when a youth ran from the waiting-room and attempted to leapaboard the "smoker." Missing the step, he fell between two cars,though still clutching a hand-rail of the one he had attempted toboard.

  With cries of horror, several of those who witnessed the incident fromthe station platform averted their faces, unwilling to view theghastly tragedy that they believed must occur in another instant.

  At sound of their cries, a neatly dressed young fellow,broad-shouldered and of splendid physique, who was in the act ofmounting the car-steps, turned, and instantly comprehended thesituation. Without a moment of hesitation he dropped the bag he wascarrying and flung his body over the guard-rail, catching at itssupporting stanchions with his knees. In this position, with his armsstretched to their utmost, he managed to grasp the coat-collar of theunfortunate youth who was being dragged to his death. In anothermoment he had, by a supreme effort, lifted the latter bodily to theplatform.

  Those who witnessed this superb exhibition of promptly appliedstrength from the station platform gave a cheer as the train swept by,but their voices were drowned in its clatter, and the two actors intheir thrilling drama were unaware that it had been noticed. Therescued youth sat limp and motionless on the swaying platform where hehad been placed, dazed by the suddenness and intensity of his recentterror; while the other leaned against the guard-rail, recovering fromhis tremendous effort. After a few minutes of quick breathing hepulled himself together and helped his companion into the car, wherethey found a vacant seat.

  A few of the passengers noted the entrance of two young men, one ofwhom seemed to be in need of the other's assistance, and glanced atthem with meaning smiles. There had been races at Hancock that day,and they evidently believed that these two had attended them. No onespoke to them, however, and it quickly became apparent that thesupremest moment in the life of one of the two, which would also havebeen his last on earth but for the other, had passed unnoticed by anyof the scores of human beings in closest proximity to them at thetime.

  It was hard to realize this, and for a few minutes the young men satin silence, dreading but expecting to be overwhelmed with a clamor ofquestions. It was a relief to find that they were to be unmolested,and when the conductor had passed on after punching their tickets, theone who had rescued the other turned to him with a smile, saying:

  "No one knows anything about it, for which let us be grateful."

  "You can bet I'm grateful, Mister, in more ways than one," answeredthe other, his eyes filling with the tears of a deep emotion as hespoke. "I won't forget in a hurry that you've saved my life, and fromthis time on, if ever you can make any use of so poor a chap as me,I'm your man. My name's Tom Trefethen, and I live in Red Jacket, whereI run a compressor for No. 3 shaft of the White Pine Mine. That's allthere is to me, for I 'ain't never done anything else, don't knowanything else, and expect I'm no good _for_ anything else. So, yousee, I hain't got much to offer in exchange for what you've just giveme; same time, I'm your friend all right, from this minute, and Iwouldn't do a thing for you only just what you say; but that goes,every time."

  "That's all right, Tom, and don't you worry about trying to make anyreturn for the service I have been able to render you. I won't call ita slight service, because to do so would be to undervalue the life Iwas permitted to save. Besides, you have already repaid me by givingme a friend, which was the thing of which I stood in greatest need,and had almost despaired of gaining."

  "Why, Mister--"

  "Peveril," interrupted the other. "Richard Peveril is my name, thoughthe friends I used to have generally called me 'Dick Peril."'

  "Used to have, Mr. Peril? Do you mean by that that you hain't got anyfriends now?"

  "I mean that five minutes ago it did not seem as though I had a friendin the world; but now I have one, who, I hope, will prove a veryvaluable one as well, and his name is Tom Trefethen."

  "It's good of you to say so, Mr. Peril, though how a poor, ignorantchap like me can prove a valuable friend to a swell like you is morethan I can make out."

  At this the other smiled. "I don't know just what you mean by aswell," he said. "But I suppose you mean a gentleman of wealth andleisure. If so, I certainly am no more of a swell than you, nor somuch, for I have just expended my last dollar for this railroadticket, and have no idea where I shall get another. In fact, I do notknow where I shall obtain a supper or find a sleeping-place forto-night, and think it extremely probable that I shall go withouteither. I hope very much, though, to find a job of work to-morrow thatwill provide me with both food and shelter for the immediate future."

  "Work! Are you looking for work?" asked Tom, gazing at Peveril's nattytravelling-suit, and speaking with a tone of incredulity.

  "That is what I have come to this country to look for," was thesmiling answer. "I came here because I was told that this was the onesection of the United States unaffected by hard times, and because Ihad a letter of introduction to a gentleman in Hancock whom I thoughtwould assist me in getting a position. To my great disappointment, hehad left town, to be gone for several months, and, as I could notafford to await his return, I applied for work at the Quincy and othermines, only to be refused."

  "Is it work in the mines you are looking for?" asked Tom Trefethen,evidently doubting if he had heard aright.

  "Yes, that or any other by which I can make an honest living."

  "Well, sir, I wouldn't have believed it if any one but yourself hadtold me."

  "But you must believe it, for it is true, and I am now on my way toRed Jacket because I have been told there is more work to be had therethan at any other place in the whole copper region, or in the State,for that matter."

  "And more people to do it, too," muttered Tom Trefethen, as he sankinto a brown-study.

  By this time the train had climbed from the muddy level of PortageLake, which with its recently cut ship-canals bisects Keweenaw Point,making of its upper end an island, and was speeding northward over arough upland. Its way led through a naked country of rocks andlow-growing scrub, for the primitive growth of timber had beenstripped for use in the mines. Every now and then it passed tallshaft-houses and chimneys, belching forth thick volumes of smoke,which, with their clustering villages, marked the sites ofcopper-mines. Finally, as darkness began to shroud the uninterestinglandscape, the train entered the environs of a wide-spread andpopulous community, where huge mine buildings reared themselves fromsurrounding acres of the small but comfortable dwellings ofNorth-country miners. Everywhere shone electric lights, and everywherewas a swarming population.

  Peveril gazed from his car window in astonishment. "What place isthis?" he asked.

  "Red Jacket," answered his companion. "That is, it is Red Jacket, BlueJacket, Yellow Jacket, Stone Pipe, Osceola, White Pine, and severalother mining villages bunched together and holding in all abouttwenty-five thousand people."

  "Whew! and I expected to find a place of not over one thousandinhabitants."

  "You don't know much about the copper country, that's a fact," saidTom Trefethen, with the slight air of superiority that residents of aplace are so apt to assume towards strangers. "Why, a single companyhere employs as many as three thousand men."

  "I am willing to admit my ignorance," rejoined Peveril, "but I am alsovery anxious to learn things, and hope in course of time to rank as afirst-class miner. Therefore, any information you can give me will begratefully received. To begin with, I wish you would tell me the nameof some hotel where my grip will serve as security for a few days'board and lodging."

  "A hotel, Mr. Peril! You can't be feeling so very poor if you arethinking of going to a hotel. Or perhaps you don't know how expensiveour Red Jacket hotels are. You see, there is always such a rush ofbusiness here
that prices are way up. Why, they don't think anythingof charging two dollars a day; and they get it, too--don't give youanything extra in the way of grub, either. I can do lots better thanthat for you, though. There's a-plenty of boarding-houses here that'llfix you up in great shape for five a week. You just wait here at thestation a few minutes while I go and look up one that I know of."

  Without waiting for a reply Tom Trefethen hurried from the train,which was just coming to a stop at the bustling Red Jacket station,and disappeared in the crowd of spectators who had gathered to witnessits arrival. Peveril followed more slowly, and, depositing thehandsome dress-suit case that he had learned to call a "grip" in avacant corner of the platform, prepared to await the return of hisonly acquaintance in all that community, "or in the whole State ofMichigan, so far as I know," reflected the young man.

  "As for friends, I wonder if I have any anywhere. This Tom Trefethenclaims to have a friendly feeling towards me, and, if he comes back, Iwill try to believe in him. It is more than likely though that hisleaving me here is only a way of escaping an irksome obligation, and Ishouldn't be one bit surprised never to see him again. It seems to bethe way of the world, that if you place a fellow under an obligationhe begins to dislike you from that moment. My! if all the fellowswhom I have helped would only pay what they owe me, how well fixed Ishould be at this minute. I could even put up with a clear conscienceat one of Tom Trefethen's two-dollar-a-day hotels. What anunsophisticated chap he is, anyway. Wonder what he would say to theWaldorf charges? And yet only a short time ago I thought them verymoderate. It's a queer old world, and a fellow has to see all sides ofit before he can form an idea of what it is really like. I mustconfess, however, that I am not particularly enjoying my present pointof view. Must be because I am so infernally hungry. Odd sensation, andso decidedly unpleasant that if my friend with the Cornish namedoesn't return inside of two minutes more I shall abandon our trystand set forth in search of a supper."

  At this point in his dismal reflections Peveril became aware of ashort, solidly built man, having a grizzled beard, and wearing a roughsuit of ill-fitting clothing, who was standing squarely before him andregarding him intently. As their eyes met, the new-comer asked,abruptly:

  "Be thy name Richard, lad?"

  "Yes."

  "What's t'other part of it?"

  "Peveril. And may I inquire why you ask?"

  "Because, lad, in all t'world thee has not a truer friend, nor onemore ready to serve thee, than old Mark Trefethen. So come along ofme, and gi' me a chance to prove my words."