PS 635 .Z9 "288 THE Copy 1 'TWO'' PS () 3 5^ A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. ILLUSTRATIVE OF EARLy DAYS AIONG THE IINES, y By frank p. WARNER. COPYRIGHTED— ALL EIGHTS RESERVED. th::k! TWO BONANZAS, A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. ILLUSTRATIVE OF EARLY DAYS AMONG THE MINES. By frank p. WARNER. COPYBIGHTED— ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. -^Tt, DENVER: «^ Tribune-Republican Print. a3sS-Tl ' ^ .^ r «« f^^"- TMP92-007540 THE TWO BONANZAS, A COLORADO DRAMA IN THREE ACTS. By frank p. WARNER. DRAMATIS PEESON^E. EPH CONVERSE A Mountaineer FRANK LEFFINGWELL A Prospector FELIPE A Halfbreed J. Q. A. Van PELTZINGER Exquisite Knickerbocker BURKE NASSGAR A Villain JAKE OUSK'K; A Villain PEDRO BARDITO Italian Boss WALLACE DL'NDAS Father to Eva JUANITA, (Maniacj Wife to Nossgar EVA DUNDAS In Love with Frank MADELINA FERRARA An Orange Girl MRS. DUNDAS Mother to Eva Magistrate, Policeman, Bootblack, Fish Peddler, Servant, Oflicer, Etc. Produced bcfoi c publication at Rosita and Sil- ver Cliff loith the follozviug cast: EPH CONVERSE, Frank P. Warner ( Guv A. Adams FRANK LEFFINGWELL, \ I Geo Bracket! FELIPE Jas. S. Blair VAN PELTZINGER, Frank A. Tuttle Dr. W. R. Roup BURKE NASSGAR, John Thomas ( Sam. N. Johnson JAKE CUSICK \ \ G. C. Thompson PEDRO BARDITO, Thos. E. E. Holt ( W. R. Roup WALLACE DUNDAS \ (.Geo. Brackett JUANITA Hattie Holt ( Jennie Swanson EVA DUNDAS, \ y Mae Smith MADELINA, Anna Learning ( Nellie V. Johnson MRS. DUNDAS, \ ( Mrs. W. R. Roup POLICEMAN, Sam. C. Kohl BOOTBLACK Master John W. Warner rPHE TWO BONANZAS. ACT I. SCEXE 1. Interior of Dundas' Cottcif/e at Alines. — Mrs. Dundas and Eva discovered. Mrs. D. I would say more, and do more, to help rid you of those two suitors, Eva, but you know I am not strong as I once was, and your father is so — so violent whenever I mention it to him. Your father is so changed. Only a few months ago he was so kind and considerate; but, dear, we must not judge him harshly. I am sure he loves us, and would not purposely give us pain ; but he has so mucli to worry and harass him. We must remember his kindness in days gone by, and bear with his humors as patiently as we can. You will, won't you, daughter? Eva. I will try, mother. I have always tried. But I think the odious smirks and smiles of Burke Nassgar, and papa's never-ending praises of that silly Van Peltzin- ger, have made me miserable long enough. Papa used to take me in his arms, and call me his baby ; but now he seems to think i was ))oru only to vex and displease him with obstinacy. Well, I am obstinate — as obstinate as the little needle in the compass. Burke Nassgar I hate, and papa's pet, John Quincy Adams Van Peltzinger, I despise. Papa knows Burke Na.ssgar is not a good man, yet I believe he would have me marry him rather than Frank Leffingwell, who is everything that is good, and brave, and manly. Mrs. D. P^va, pray, please do not talk so. You must cultivate patience and mildness of manner. You have grievances, and so have I ; but you should remember, dear, that a show of spirit, or an exhibition of temper, was never reckoned among the attributes of a lady. THE TWO BOXAXZAS. Eva. I know 1 should not say it, but — I hate ladies — most of them. I do not know anything that is so list- less, so stupidly docile, so cold, so passive, so lacking in mind and soul and womanhood as a lady. I like a man who is manly ; or a woman who is womanly — but ladies — faugh! Van Peltzinger is lady-like, and it is for that I despise him. I would rather wed Felipe, the half-breed, because he is brave and strong. He fights the bears with his gun and knife, and wrests a living from the inhospit- able forest, without the aid of an inheritance from his fathers. Felipe, the half-breed, is a man, and Van Peltz- inger isn't ; that is the difference. And while I would remain single, to please papa, if I marry at all, I have always said I would never marry anything but a man; and in that good resolution I am — obstinate. Mrs. I). My dearest daughter, you know you have my sympathy. I am sure Frank Leffingwell is worthy of you, but what can we do ? We would not dare — we must not think of open and avowed disobedience. That is terrible to think of. Eva. I know it is, mother, and I would not think of such a thing, except as a last resort ; but if pa])a's ulti- mate terms include my marriage with that silly nonentity, my ultimate course will be open and avowed refusal. This is not a rash determination. I have considered everything ; I have explored every avenue that ofiered the least promise of escape, and having reached this conclusion, 1 will act in accordance with it. Mrs. D. Eemember he is your father, Eva. Eva. I do remember it ; and he ought to remember that I am his daughter. Mrs. D. Oh, Eva, you are so like him, and — you - frighten me! Eva. {Crosses to Mrs. I). ) Well, there, I will not frighten you again, you best little mother in the world. {Kisses her.) There, I am not undutiful, am F? I do love you, and papa, too, don't I? But — I wouldn't marry Mr. Van Peltzinger, would you ? Mrs. D. No — at least — I — you know, dear, I do not like him, but — ^I fear you do not need encouragement in your opposition to your father's wishes. When did you hear from Frank, and what is he doing ? Eva. I had a letter from him yesterday — such a good letter. He says he and Eph Converse work in their tunnel until midnight, sometimes, because, he says, he is working to earn me, and feels that every stroke brings me .that much nearer. Isn't he good, mother, and could you THE TWO BONANZAS. help loving him? And isn't it too bad that every letter he writes brings a blush of shame to my cheeks? I some- times wonder that he cares for me at all. Mrs. D. What do you mean, child? Eva. I mean that every letter he writes, telling me how he works, and how hopeful he is, reminds me of the awful opinion he must have of my father. They seem to say " your father is sordid and selfish, and admires men only for the gold they can count. If I do not make haste and win you with a fortune, he will sacrifice your happi- ness and mine to some man who has money." O, mother, his letters do seem a reproach to us all. {Enter Dundas.) DuNDAS. There was a time when a few of the things I undertook would turn out right; but I will make affi- davit that everything I have touched within the last three months has done its very best to aggravate and delay. Mrs. D. What is it now, Wallace? Dundas. Oh, what is it now ? It's everything ! Van Peltzinger was to have been here yesterday to conclude his negotiations for the Eva D. mine, and here, the coach is in and he hasn't arrived to-day. I told Frank Leffing- well, when he recorded the Eva D., to put it in my name, and I would give him my half of all our other prospects ; and, as he made no objection I supposed he would do so. The fact is, I wanted to be rid of him. A week ago I went down to the county seat and had a deed to the prop- erty made from myself to the A"an Peltzinger Mining Company, so that everything would be ready, and to-day the county clerk sends me an abstract showing that I own one-half the Eva D., and Eva, there, owns the other half. And here is a note from Frank Leffingwell saying he con- cluded not to trade me the half interest, but that he has given his interest to my daughter, as I will find by refer- ence to the records. Now the deed will have to be made over again, in Eva's name, as well as mine, and that will require another trip to the county seat. I never had such luck before in my life. Mrs. D. How is the mine looking to-day, Wallace? Dundas. Looking ? Look at that ! (Showing speci- men. ) A four-foot vein, and it's worth a dollar a pound, if it's worth a cent. It gets better and better, and if I didn't want to get out of these mountains and away from Frank Leffingwell, I'd see the Van Peltzinger Mining Company blessed before it should have that mine, even at $500,000. It's worth a solid million ; and if that vein THE TWO BONANZAS. keeps widening, and Van Peltzinger doesn't come soon, it will cost him that to get it too, because I am tired of this eternal trifling. Mrs. D. How lucky that it is looking so well. Eva. Why, yes, papa, one would think you ought to be in the best humor in the world at such luck as that. DuNDAS. Luck, is it? You women seem delighted at an opportunity to anger me. There is no luck about it, it's good management. Why should I ofl'er Frank Leflingwell my half of twenty other claims for the Eva D. if I didn't know she would he a great mine ? AVhy should I encourage my friends in the East to organize and stock her, if I didn't know she would prove a bonanza ? Luck ? All the luck I have had lately, thanks to Frank Lefling- well and Eva, there, has been against me ; but, by good management, I flatter myself, I can defeat even a run of bad luck. Eva. Well, papa, I do not see why you should refer so contemptuously to Frank Leflingwell, or to me, either. Frank ets chair.) Yaas, I'll set down a minute, but you needn't 'a bothered, I could 'a got a cheer. I jist come over to git a little assayin' done. Frank, he's run out o' chemicalitics, or he'd 'a done it hisself — he kin make jist as scienterrific an assay as anybody, when he's got the hereditaments to do it with. Yaas, we got into a little streak o' quartz 'at we kinder thought we'd like to have assayed — we don't want no millrun — only a kind of a animalculae test is all. Well, how's everything? DuNUAS. Slow enough, as far as I am concerned. Mks. D. Oh, we are all well, Eph, and full of hope. Eph. So 'm I. I'm fuller o' hope 'n I am o' victuals about half the time. But it's a powerful good thing, hope is. Makes a fool of a man a heap o' times; but after you make a fool of 'im, it don't take much to make 'im happy, that's one advantage. How is it with you, Miss Evy ? Eva. I am quite well, thank you, Eph, and I am beginning to feel of some importance since I have become a mine owner. You must know I only just now learned that I own one-half the Eva I). Eph. Xo ? Eva. Yes, indeed. Eph. 'M b' gosh ! DuNDAS. Eph, may I ask you a question ? Eph. Why, yes, you can't ax me anything else. Dtjndas. And will you answer it truthfully ? Eph. Waal, I'll take an' tell ye: If I concluded it was to my intrust, I might turn loose an' lie till ye'd think ye' smelt brimstone around hyar ; but if I felt totally "discominterested, I'd answer ye just as straight an' true as I'm a poor benighted sinner in a Avicked world without a dollar in his pocket. DuNDAS. It is this: What did Frank Leffingwell think of the Eva D, at the time he gave the half-interest to my daughter? Eph. Her? He said he thought she was the sweet- est, an' purest, an' best DuNDAS. No, I mean the mine? THE TWO BONANZAS. Eph. Oh, the mine? Wh)-, he — well, he Well, I'll take an' tell ye : He told me, confidentially, it wasn't worth two hoops in Colorado City — he did, b'gosli. Eva. Eph Converse, you are lying. DuNDAS. Ha, ha, ha ! You hear that, Eva? You hear that, mother ? I knew it. You are an honest fellow, Eph, and I am glad you came in. Come in whenever you feel like it, I am always glad to have you ; and if you ever need any help you can dei>end upon me. Eph. Oh, yer welcome — I mean, I'm nuich obliged to you. Yaas, I will. I'll take an' drop in whenever I happen to be over. But say, Gov'nor, I'm in partnership with Frank, now, an' I'd kinder like to know, ye know,- — when did you quit gruh-stakin' Frank ? I mean, when did he quit prospectin' for you on the halves ? DuNDAS. The first of last month. I wish you joy of him, but I was glad to be rid of him, and you may tell him so. Eph. Oh, I will — yaas, I'll take an' tell him, but he won't keer a durn, 'taint likely — he never does. But say-— liyar I been a fergittin' it — there was a feller over at the mine in a kerridge, as I come by, an' he told me to tell ye to come over, right away. DuNDAS {excitedly). Do you know him, Eph ? Eph — Yaas, it was that thin-legged thick-head 'at was out hyar a while back — Van Sweetsinger, or whatever his name is. DuNDAS. Van Peltzinger ? Good! Mother, see that a good meal is spread ; and Eva, sleek yourself up a bit — I will go right over. Excuse me, Eph — {hurries off, R.) Eph." Oh, I will, I will. Mrs. D. And Excuse me, Eph — I mean Mr. Con- verse, I always call you Eph — I must go to the kitchen. Eph. Eph, or Mr. Converse, it's all one, as Aunt Phenaria said, the time she got the first glimpse o' the Chinese twins — it's all one. Mrs. D. {to Eva). I want to speak with you pres- ently, dear. Eva. Well. {Exit Mrs. i>., L.) Eph. An' now. Miss Evy, hyar's another letter fer you, from Frank ; an' I don't want you to disrupt me while I'm talkin', 'cause I got a heap to say, an' I wan't to talk fast. Ye see- Eva. You are very good, Eph ; but let me ask you, why did you tell papa that Frank thought he was making THE TWO BOXANZAS me a present of un interest in a mine tluitwas worthless? Eph. Oh, he, he, ha, ha, lia ! I know'd it. Now let me take an' tell ye: Whenever a man axes ye a fool question, if ye want to do him a good turn, answer it the way it ort to be answered ; but il' ye want him to do yoii, a good turn, then answer it the way ye know he wants to hear it answered, an' he's yer friend Irom that time on. 'Tain't good morals, likely, but 1 guarantee it /.s good sense. That was my plan, and ye see the next breath he fetched he called me honest ; said he'd help me if 1 ever needed it, and told me to drop in whenever I come over. Ye see, 1 kin bring ye letters by the ton, now, if I want to. Never do you mind. The Eva D. is goin' to make ye all rich, an' Frank an' me both know'd it. The lead's blind irom hyar on, but it runs through the mountain, an' Frank an' me's goin' to git it on the other side. Now, I'll take an' tell ye : The old Gov'nor thinks he's runnin' things terrible secret, but I know a good deal about what's goin' on. He's got three or lour feet of stufi thar that's pnrty nigh good enough, what there is of it; an' thar's purty nigh enough of it, sich as it is. Now, if he sells, which he's purty middlin apt to do, you'll have to sign a deed to your half interest ; an' if the deed ain't to be signed till you git to New York, why you go right along an' Eva. Why, Eph, we are not going to New York, are we ? ErH. Yaas, ye are ; the old Gov'nor's goin" to take you an' the old lady to New York, as .soon as the sale's made, an' mebbe before ; but vlf)n't disrupt me. As I was sayin' — what was I sayin'? — why, he's goin' to take you to New York so's you'll drop Frank an' marry that Van Pelt-his-sister Eva. I will not do it. Eph. Neither will I — er— but don't disinterrupt me agin, you're gittin' me all absalombarrassed — as I w'as sayin', if the deed ain't to be signed till ye git to New York, you go right on an' sign 'era, an' I'll fix things all right; but if it's to be signed hyar, afore ye start, yon manage to let me know the evenin' before you sign. Now ye think you've got ii through your noddle all straight? Eva. Yes. If the deed is to be signed here, I must let you know the evening before I sign it. That is all I have to remember, is n't it ? Eph. 'LI b' gosh ! Eva. What? 12 THE TWO BONANZAS. Eph. In course, that's all. But — say, it don't take a woman more'n 'bout half as long to say a heap as it does a man, does it ? Eva. No. And I see you are gifted with one of the traits peculiar to your sex. Eph {surveying himself ). Me? Eva. Yes. Eph. No ; what's that ? Eva. Flattery. Eph. Oho ! No, I look a good deal flatter'n I really am ; 1 weigh a hundred and sixty. But I reckon I'll have to tear myself away, as Jacob said when Esau got after him. Somebody' 11 be a comin'. Eva. Yes, and I want to read my letter. Eph. Sartinly, with a big S. An' say. Miss Evy* I'll be purty sure to bring ye a new one every time I | come. ] Eva. Thank you, Eph, you are a hero, and I am i going to kiss your honest hand. (Eva takes his hand ; Eph i snatches it away, wipes it 6n buckskin blouse, then permits Eva \ to kiss it.) ' I]pH (holding sleeve back'^. 'M b' gosh ! Eva. What? Eph. I come purty nigh takin' that off'n there, an' j if I had it 'd been grand larceny of the goods and chat- tels of one Frank Leffingwell, as 'Squire Wattikins used i to say, wouldn't it ? ' Eva. No; that is yours. I will give Frank his i myself. j Eph (still holding sleeve back). 'M b' gosh ! (Exit B.) '. (Eva reads letter ; slow curtain ; only one strain ' of music.) Scene 2. — Same. Eva discovered. \ Eva. Oh, such good fortune. Darling old Eph, it is j no wonder you was so jolly and full of antics. My poorj Frank — poor no longer — rich, rich at last. And I must | not tell even poor mother. I do want to tell her, but I must read it again : "We came upon the long expected lead, at about ten o'clock the night before last, and, although I was eager to send you the good news, I thought best to wait imtil we ascertained the extent of the ore body. I am almost afraid to tell you the whole truth; but it is much better than we had any reason to THE TWO BONANZAS. IS hope for, and I am rich. We have named this mine the Eva L., which is some day, I hope, to be the name of the one — the only one — who lias a place in the heart of, your Frank." Isn't it too good ! If I only dared run out doors and shout and make a noise. Perhaps he is richer, even, than Mr. Van Peltzinger. I never was in such good humor with the whole world. But who comes? Ah, it is that Xassgar. Let liim come. I can endure all things, now. {Enter Burke i^fassgar.) Nassgar. Ah, good morning, Miss Eva. All alone, and enjoying good company, eh ? Eva. Oh, yes. Did you want to see papa? He is over at the mine. Na8S(;ar. I know it ; I have just left him. No, I am idle for half an hour, and thinking company, even as poor as mine, might be thought better than none, I came over ; besides, I have something I want to say to you. Eva. Is it possible ? lam dying to hear it. Now do not keep me in suspense — out with it. Nassgar. Well, Miss Eva, since you are so encour- aging, I will tell you frankly. I am in love. Eva. Oh, pshaw ; that is nothing. So am I. Nassgar. I feared some such answer, for he would be blind who could not see the foolish fancy you enter- tain for a fellow of my acquaintance. Eva, I have come to warn you — he is not Avorthy of you. Eva. Yes ? Now, if you will tell me for whom you are so unfortunate as to have a foolish fancy, I will return your favor and repay counsel for counsel. Nassgar. Mine is not a foolish fancy. You must know — you do know, Eva — I love you deeply, devotedly. I know I am not worthy so priceless a jewel, but I am not altogether bad, and I will make it the task of my life to contribute to your happiness if you will only give me the right to hope. Eva. Your opinion of me is not a flattering one, Mr. Nassgar. You are pleased to speak of my attachment as a foolish fancy, while you credit yourself with a capa- bility to love deeply and devotedly. It is not kind of you, Mr. Nassgar. Nassgar. But, Eva Eva. Miss Dundas, Mr. Nassgar. Nassgar. I did not mean any affront ; I only hoped it was a foolish fancy — nothing more. I HE TWO BONANZAS. KvA. I will not triHe with you, Mr. Nassgar; you will like it better if I speak plainly. I have a foolish fancy, if you please to term it so — such a foolish fancy that I do not think I could fancy yon at all. Now let us change the subject. Nassgak. Do yon know Frank Leffingwell ? Eva, I have seen him freqently. Nassgar. Do you know that while he was prospect- ing for your father he discovered the Eva L. mine, sup- posed to be richer, even, than the Eva D. ; that he kept tliat discovery a secret until he and your father dissolved jjartnership, that he might cheat him out of his interest?- Did you know that ? Eva. You are too communicative, Mr. Nassgar. If you will go, now, you will save nie the trouble of order- ing you out. Nassgar. Let me explain. Eva. Your explanation could not possibly interest me. The sooner you favor me with your absence, the more favorably I shall think of you. Nassgar. Allow me time to Eva. No, sir ; go now. Nassgar. Y(ju may live to be sorry for this inter- view, Migs Dundas. Eva. I was sorry when I saw you intended to force it upon me. So you see that prophecy was fulfilled before it was made. Nassgar. You jest, but — remember I remember I (Exit.) Eva. Are you not gone yet ? I should not have been angry with him, hateful as he is, if he had not resorted to falsehood. I never saw such silly beings as men are, to be always falling in love. Now, when I have con- cluded with Mr. Van Peltzinger, I presume I shall have a respite, for awhile, at least. He will come with papa, I have no doubt, and I shall — oh, I have it ! I have it ! I will affect undue familiarity, and disenchant him by shocking his delicate sense of propriety. I will chew gum and talk just as boisterously as I can. I am almost eager for him to come, for I am in high spirits to-night— and here they are. {Enter Dundas and Van Peltzinger.) Dundas. Walk in, Van. Eva, daughter, here is our old friend, Mr. Van Peltzinger. Van. Ah, Miss Eva, 'm delighted, 'm suah. THE TWO BONANZAS. Eva. {Cheiving gum vigorously.) Hello, Van, when did you come in ? Van. {Taken aback.) Awived about an houah ago. Ah, I hope you are quite well, Miss — ah — Miss Dundas. Eva. {Aside.^ Miss Dundas— good. {Aloud.) Oh, la, yes ; I reckon I demolish more chuck than any other two people in the lay-out. Dundas. {Aside to Eva.) Eva, what is the matter? Van. (Aside to Dundas.) Ah, what did she observe, Mr. Dundas. Dundas. Oh, she is an unruly girl, Van ; she was giving you a taste of western slang, which, being inter- preted, as the Bible says, means that she is able to eat as much as any other two members of the family. Van. Oh. ha, ha, ha, ha, pvvetty good, I assho you. I am glad, Miss Eva, to find you so well. Ha, ha, ha ! Ah, how is your mother ? Eva. Oh, she's feeling 'way up. Van. Ah — beg pai-don — doing what? Eva. She's all hunkidori, f(ir lier — you know she never was stouter than an ox team. Van. Ah, no, I suppose not. Dundas. Eva, will you see how soon dinner will be ready ? Eva. Why, yes ; but I'd ratlier you'd go, I want to talk to Van. Dundas. No, go at once ; ]Mr. Van Peltzinger is hungry, I am sure. Van. Not at all. Do not hurry on my account, I pway you. Eva. All right, I'll go see. Excuse me. Van, I will chin you a little after you have dined. Van. Certainly, certainly. {Aside.) I wondah if she is in her wight mind. Dundas. I ought to have told you, Van, my daughter has a kind of passing fancy for a beggarly miner who used to work for me. He is a low fellow, and I have for- bidden her having anything to do with him. That ac- counts for her outrageous conduct this evening. Van. Ah, I feali I do not fully undahstand. Dundas. I will explain. She is full of resources, if I do say it, but I understand her tactics. She is deter- mined to disgust you with her vulgar conduct, so that you will not press your suit — do you see ? ]6 THE TWO BONANZAS. Van. All, do you think so? DuNDAS. I am sure of it. Van. Ha, ha, ha I quite clevali, I declare. DuNDAS. But we must clieckmate her. Now do you pay no attention to her assumed eccentricities, exhibit no surprise, make yourself as agreeable as possible, and we will defeat the minx at her own game. Van. Good ideah, pon my honah ; I am only too glad to favah the expewiment. DuNDAS. Very good. Now, as to the other business, you say there is no doubt the company will pay the money as soon as we arrive in New York and the deeds can be made out and delivered. It is short notice to my family, but if possible we will start to-morrow. I have one very particular reason for wishing to start at once ; [ want to get away before Frank Leffingwell (Eva appears back) and my daughtbr can have any opportunity to communicate with each other. I will inform Nassgar and leave the mine in his hands during my absence. How will to-morrow suit your convenience? Of course we must have you along whenever we go. Van. Oh, certainly, at any time — I can go at any time. DuNDAS. Then we will start for New York to-mor- row morning ; and as between you and me, Frank Leffing- well, as the prize-fighters say, "may the best man win." {Enter Eva.) Eva. Everything is waiting and I expect you will both feel more ^sociable after you get outside of some hash. You go ahead, I am going to stir up the dust on tliis furniture a little. DuNDAS. Yes, come on, Xnn, I am as hungry as the proverbial wolf. Van. Ah, with pleasuah. {Exit D. and Van P.) Eva. Oh, ha, ha, ha, ha ! I wonder what the elegant knickerbocker thinks of his wildwood rose by this time. [Imitatinrj him.) "Ah, 'm delighted, 'm suah !" Ha, ha, if I only had a photograph of the wild surprise on his aristocratic countenance when I shook hands with him, it would be worth a place in a gilt frame. Now if papa only knew that I overheard his plan for starting to New York so suddenly — but he doesn't — so I can write f rank a good, long letter, and when he is in possession of all the facts, as papa says, " may the best man win." [CURTAIN,] THE TWO BONANZAS. 17 Scene 3. — Interior of Frank Leffingwell's Cabin. — Frank discovered reclining on bunk with newqyaper. Frank. {Looking at watch.) Half-past nine. Time Epli was here. Being up the last two nights leaves me as drowsy as an owl. If he doesn't come soon he will find me asleep. It is only the hope that he will bring me a line from Eva that keeps me awake at all. Frank, my boy, you have been a fool. How many times have you said you could never admire a strong-minded woman ? And here you are just worshipping a little woman with a mind so compact, and strong ; so keen and comprehen- sive that it puts you to your best efforts to follow it, strong man as you are. But she is different from most strong-minded women, I will say that. Diflei-ent? humph ! so different fi'om all other women that it seems sacrilege to tolerate a comparison. So sweet, so grace- ful, so captivatingly honest and frank, so true and — (Enter Eph.) Eph. 'M h' gosh ! Frank. Who's — Eph, you've got into a detestable habit lately, do you know it ? Eph. Me? No, what's that? Frank. Whj^, breaking in upon other people's rev- eries without so nuich as whistling to announce your coming, and if you don't stop it I am going to raise an insurrection around here. Eph. Haw, haw, sweet, one; graceful, two; cap- tivating, three; honest, four; frank, five; true, six; and ye hadn't only just begun to git started, had ye? Well, enough 's a plenty, as the nigger said when he got — Frank. Well, never mind the nigger ; did you bring me a letter ? Eph. Yaas, I went around to our little private post- ofEce, an' looked in, an' thar laid a little letter snugger'n a rugged bug in a buggy rug, an' I intermediately laid holt and purveyed it to innermost reensitations of my dishabiliments. An' say — at first I was goin' to put your letter in, an' let Miss Evy come an' git it ; an' then, thinks I, I'll jist walk over to the house an' see if I can't git a chance to give it to her myself — I wanted to see the old man, anyhow — an' say — he didn't kick me out. He didn't make no dilemonstrations in that direction. He was glad to see me. I walks in, ye know, an' — Frank. Don't forget that I am waiting for that letter, Eph. 18 THE TWO BONANZAS. Eph. Yaas, I was jist lookin' fer it. (Searches pock- ets.^ As I was savin', 1 walks into the house, ye know, life size, but innercent like an — but say — 1 told the old gov'nor the biggest, fattest, over-grownedest squab of a lie that's ever took place since the time of Ananiarias of holy writ. ''Eph," says he, "I want to ax ye a question." " Peel away," says I ; says he, " I want to know what Frank Leffingwell thought of the f^va D. mine, time he give the half interest to my daughter ?" " Well, sir," says 1, " he told me confidenshally 'at it was not worth a forged check on a sand bank," an' you'd adjed to 'a seen the old sinner laugh an' git friendly. That's the only way to git solid with them kind o' old men — help 'em deceive theirselves, when you see tliey've set their hearts on bein' deceived. Why, after I told him that lie he called me honest, said he'd help me when I needed it, told me to call in whenever I go over, and I believe he was goin' to ax me out in the pantry to take a drink o' liquor {sighs heavily), but he forgot it most likely. But the way I kin carry letters in thar, now, will be a sin an' a shame ; I can carry 'em in by the bushel. Frank. Well, Eph, if you have a letter for me I would like to see it ; I can listen to the other news after- ward. Eph. Yaas, I'm a gittin' it (scar':hes pockets) — an' say ^ I had anotlier reason for wantin' to go to tlie house, I wanted to git the old man to commit hisself solid on this Eva L. After I got him to feelin' good, thinks I, I'll jist make sure you don't lay no claim to no intrust in our new diskivery, so I looks as meek an' mild as a little bit of a new-born chick on a half shell, an' says I, "gov'nor" — you know he likes to be called gov'nor, says I, "gov'nor, when did Frank I^effingweli quit prospectin' for you on the halves?" "The first of last month, an' I am glad to be rid of him, and you may tell him so," says he. " Well, sir," says I, "Frank wont kyar a darn" — I couldn't help it — • It jist kinder slipped out afore I could shut my teeth on it. Frank. Let me look for that letter, Eph. Eph. No, I kin git it. (Searches pockets.) Well, sir, purty soon I happened to think an' told the old man that Van what's-his-name had come, an' so he pulls for the mine, and the old lady she peels fer the kitchen — she done that a purpose to give me a chance to talk with Miss Evy all by her — say, b' gosh. Frank. Well ? Eph. If that aint the combined-est luck ! THE TWO BONANZAS. Frank. Did you lose that letter? Eph. Naw — when I give Miss Evy your letter an' told her I'd try and bring her a new one every time I come, she grabbed my hand an' put a kiss on it right thar ; but it slipped my mind, and hyar I bin rubbin' it all over my clothes. Frank. Well, I'll be rubbing you all over the floor •of this cabin if you do not go through those pockets a little more rapidly. ErH. That's so, b' gosh, tliere she is (gives Frank letter.) Frank. (Reading.} " Ephraim Converse, Esq." This is for you. Eph. Does it say ihat ? Frank. Yes. Eph. Not 'Squire? Frank. Yes, Es(iuire--is this the onlv letter vou got? Eph. Naw, that must be the one I got onto' the reglar postoffice, or mebbe Miss Evy's fell in love with me, haw, haw, b' gosh, I was afeard o' that. 'Squire, hey, what does it say ? Frank. It is from the County Clerk. (Beads.) " Dear Sir : Find enclosed location certificate Eva L. lode claim. You will see by endorsement on back that the certificate is duly recorded in Book F, page 323; also that fee for recording same is duly receipted. Resp., B. D. Griswold, County Clerk and Recorder." "Well, Eph. this letter is almost as welcome as the other. This com- pletes our title to the Eva L. She is all staked, the as- sessment work done, surveyed, recorded, and everything in accordance witli law. Now, if you have found that other letter, let me have it. Eph. Must have, somewhar, (searches pockets). Say, b' gosh, the old man's goin' to take Evy an' the old woman to New York. Frank. When ? Eph. I don't know — he don't know — they don't anybody know. Frank. We must ascertain, Eph. If he takes Eva to New York I will go, too. Didn't you find out when they are going — didn't she say anything to you about it ? Eph. No- yes — I told her, she didn't know noth- in' about it. I got it from Felipe, the half-breed, he loafs around the mine a good deal, an' he'll do anything for 20 THE TWO BONANZAS. me. But say — I don't think they'll go for a week or two, d' yeou? Frank. You cannot tell — they may go at once — you know Dundas will resort to any means to effectually separate us. I do not like to ask it of you, Eph, but I Avill stay here and guard the tunnel, if you will go back, to-night, and keep an eye on Dundas' movemenls for me. Eph. Thar's that consound letter, now. ( Gives F. Idler.') Yaas, I'll go ^ — 'course I will. Frank. Thank you, Eph, you can do much better than I ; my presence there would excite suspicion, besides it is better that Dundas and I should not meet, just at present. Eph. Well, say, you got me kind o' concerned — keep yer eye peeled fer news, 'cuz I'm off like a cork to a pop bottle. (Going.) Frank. Let me know as soon as you have learned anything definite, Eph, Eph. 'M b' gosh. (E-rit.) Frank. (Takes short time to read tetter.) Precious as it all is, the last line is worth all the rest : " If you should not hear from me for months, or even years, re- member I am always true." Bless her, I will remember it. How happy I ought to be; yet how discontented I am. The winds whispering through the pines make me drowsy. It reminds me of my old home in the Alle- ghanies, and seems to speak cheeringly of the new home for that dear girl and me, that shall be nestled in the cosiest spot to be found in this broad land of ours. God bless her and make me worthy of her. I will go to sleep now and try if I can dream of her. JuANiTA. (Without.) Oh, Johnny! Frank. {Starting.) It was the wind. I was almost asleep. I thought I heard a cry. (Lies down again.) Juanita. ( Without, nearer.) Oh, Johnny ! i'RANK. It was a cry. {Opcn.^ door.) Juanita. (Without.) Did you see him? Is he here? Frank. Who ? Is who here ? (Enter Juanita.) Juanita. I wish you would tell him baby is dead — it starved. Frank. My good woman, what do you mean? Can I help vou? THE TWO BONANZAS. JuANiTA. He went over that way, and left me and baby Fred at a cabin in the mountains. {LiMens.) Oh, Johnny ! Frank. Don't do that I What, in Heaven's name, has happened? What — JuANiTA. He said he woukl come back and bring me medicine and baby Fred some milk. But baby is dead. He is dead — he is dead, now ! Frank. (Aside.) She is demented. {Aloicd.) What — can I do anything for you ? JuANiTA. Johnny wasn't mad at me that day. He didn't scold me. He didn't whip Freddie, because I was sick and Freddie was hungry. He only went away and he never came back. Too late, too late ; baby died — he starved. Frank. My poor woman, you are cold and tired. Will you sit down, if I will build a fire? Would you like something to eat? JuANiTA. No, no, no, no, I am going to find Johnny. He used to kiss me, and he loved me once, when I ran away from home and married him. And he loved Freddie when Freddie got big enough to laugh. He will be sorry when I tell him baby Fred is dead. But 1 buried him. I wrapped his little body in one of my skirts, and scraped a little grave and buried him. A little linnet ate some seeds and sung on baby's grave. I wonder God fed the linnet and let my baby starve. I prayed before I buried him, and my head has been frozen ever since. When I buried baby, 1 saw him open his dead eyes and he blew a cold breath on my forehead and it froze. Then I got lost and could not find baby's grave again. Johnny would help me find it, wonldn't he? Yes, yes, yes, wait, Avait ; we will find you, ))a})y, we will find you. COoing.) Frank. (Aside.) This is awful; I must keep her by some means. (Ahnd, taking her arm.) No, you must not go. It is too cold and dark. You are ill, now, from exposure. Sit down (makes her sit) and tell me your name, and Johnny's. Then, if you will stay here, I will try to find him. Tell me his name. JuANiTA. Johnny named me Juanita; he said I must not tell my other name ; but you will find him, won't you? My name was Ellen, once. John Jenree ■was my husband, and Freddie was baby's name. He starved, but I was sick, and he made my head freeze, but he didn't mean to — he was dead. 22 THE TWO BONANZAS. Frank. {Aside.) Let me see, I can sleep in the tunnel, if I can prevail upon her to stay here. I Avill, try strategy. {Aloud.) Jiuinita, Johnny said you mustj remain here until morning, and you must obey. He: will be very angry if you try to go away. I JvANiTA. Then he would hurt me with his fist*! again, wouldn't he? Don't let him get angry. I will! stay, I will stay. I will not go away. Frozen, frozen.! Oh, mother, your poor Ellen's head is — f-r-o-z-e-n. ' Frank. » You must sleep in that bunk, there. Be- careful with the candle. If you allow anything to get' afire, or try to go away, I will tell Johnny and he will' be very angry. JiTANiTA. I will be careful ; I wont go away. Then^ he wouldn't hurt me, would he? I wont let anything: burn. Frank. I think she will stay, but I must keep an; eye on her for awhile. Be careful, now, I am going.' (Exit.) JuANiTA. ( Walks aimle.'olitan. Pedro want to take ze money from me. I tell him I aif it to Maria 'caus he was drunk, and I know Maria get mad with me. Then Pedro he catch me to pull my ear, and ze gentleman catch him, and Pedro get his knife, and ze gentleman take it away from him and fight him. Mag. Is that all ? Mad. Yes, sir. Ma(;. That will do. What do you know about this, Mr. Officer ? Pol. I was half a block away, fornist the Market House, when I see this Italian make a dive for the girl, and this man made a dive for him and slung him round. Then I see the Italian pull this knife, and this man dives for him again, and chokes him and takes the knife from him and gives it to the girl. Then the Italian follows up an' says something and this man cuffs him a couple o' times and I arrests the two o' them. Mag. [To Fed.) Have you any witnesses? Ped. No, only that I will swear that Mac;. Never mind. I know you, I think. You have been here before. I give you sixty days; twenty for drunkenness, twenty for disorderly conduct, and twenty for carrying concealed weapons, Ped. (Rising.) But I tell you Mag. Sit down, sit down, or I will make it ninety. {To Eph.) How long have you been in the city ? Eph. Ever since this mornin'. 44 THE TWO BONANZAS. Mag. {To Pol.) Any charge of drunkenness against this man ? Pol. Oh, no, sir ; I thought so at first, but I'll say, on oath, he hadn't a drop. Mag. Did he have any weapons. Pol. No, sir. Eph. They're right down hyar at the tavern. I don't know whar it is, but Madelina, thar, says she knows. We'll go fetch 'em. M.\G. Never mind, sir, you are discharged. But don't be caught getting drunk Eph. Not much, Mary Ann. Mag. Listen, sir — nor getting into disturbance — Eph. No, sir, not if I kin help it. Mag. Nor carrying concealed weapons — Eph. Jist as you say, 'Squire. Mag. If you do you will be fined, or imprisoned, or both. Eph. Jist as you say. Mag. Now, sir, Court will take a recess of ten minutes, and, during that time, if you wish to talk with Mr. Dundas in presence of the officers, you can do so. Court will take a recess often minutes. Eph. All right, 'squire. (To Dundas.) Heow'd dew, gov'nor. Say, that tavern keeper wasn't crazy, by gum ; if he hadn't told me to leave them pistols wouldn't I 'a been double-cinched an' buck-reined? Ha, ha, ha, ha, but — say — Dundas. Eph, old boy, how are you? What are you doing here ? Eph. Huntin' fer you, an' if I'm gittin' the drift o' your trouble with Van Peltzinger, I reckon I'm jist in time. Say, wouldn't the tew barrels of a shot- gun make liim a purty pair o' Sunday pants, if they was only broadcloth instead o' iron ? Dundas. Don't know but they would, Eph ; but tell me, what about the Eva D.? Eph. She's mine — I jumped her. Dundas. Eph, you've ruined me. They think you and I laid a plot to swindle them. Eph. Wish I'd 'a been hyar, I'd 'a told 'em better. I'd 'a give 'em a fa'r squar' exaggeration o' the whole cornushament. Ye see I heard Burke Nassgar tell THE TWO BONANZAS. 45 Felipe, the half-breed, that you an' Miss Evy was both aliases, an' couldn't hold the mine, and that he was going to jump it, so I got Frank to write me a location stake and I jist jumps it myself. { Van. F. draws near and listens.) An' say — I've followed you all the way hyar to take an' tell ye : You give Frank tlie gal an' I'll give you an' the company the mine — b' gosh, what do you say? DuNDAS. {Seizing Epli's hand.) God bless you, Eph, I thank you — a thousand times, I thank you. Van p. ( Whispers to magistrate and exit.) Eph. Give five hundred of 'em to Frank, I couldn't 'a done nothin' without him. DuNDAS. I do, and I would give the five hundred in gold dollars just to shake his honest hand to- night. Epi[. Me, too. But say, heh, gov'nor, I'll take an' tell ye — that little girl over there — what do you think of 'er? DuNDAS. I hadn't noticed her. Why, I think she has a good look. Eph. Good? If you'd 'a talked with 'er like I have — jist as good as four aces on a pair of navies — an' purty? She purtier'n the mornin' sunshine on Trout Creek Falls. Now, you'll be going back to Colorado, an' I believe she'd like to live with Miss Evy and Miss Dundas. I'm afeard she's havin' a hard time roughin' it hyar among these lunatics 'at keeps so busy hollerin they can't stop to say heow'd dew to their neighbors ; and she'd ort to be took out to the mountains, whar people's civilized, she'd ort, b' gosh. Dundas. I am of your opinion, Eph, and if she will come she is welcome. I am sure mother and Eva will like a companion of your selection. Eph. Me, too. Gov'nor, I didn't used to like ye, but I like ye now. Say, Madelina. Mad. AVhat, sir? Eph. This is Mr. Dundas, he's from the same place I am; gov'nor, it's Madelina Ferrara, {They boio.) Now, I'll take an' tell ye, Madelina, he's got one daughter about your age, but he wants another'n. Wouldn't ye druther be a daughter to him and his nice old woman, an' have Miss Evy fer yer sister, than to have Pedro fer yer boss. Mad. I — think so — oh — yes, sir. 46 THE TWO BONANZAS. Eph. Me, too ; me, too. He's grouty sometimes but he's got a good heart — he'll be good to ye. DcNDAS. Mj' girl, if you will come you shall share love and protection with my own daughter as long as you show yourself worthy of it. Mad. (Half tearfully.) Thank you. Pol. Order, order, get your seats — come to order. Mag. Mr. Dundas, ]Mr. Van Peltzinger informed me a moment ago that he had overheard a part of your conversation with Mr. Converse, and was satis- fied the information upon which he had you appre- hended was false, that his company will lose nothing, and at his motion the case is aismissed at the cost of the company. You are discharged. (Burst of music, Eph and Dundas shake hands, etc.) [CURTAIN.] ACT III. Scene 1. — ^l wood. — Enter Jake Cusick and Burke Nass- (jar. Jake. I'm willin' to do as you say, an' I aint pickin' no quarrel ; but if you and Felipe hadn't been so drunk an' got them stakes mixed that night, we'd 'a been millionaires now, or my name aint Jake Cusick. Burke. And I tell you, as sure as my name is Burke Nassgar, I wasn't drunk — now let that end it. I have no doubt as to how it happened. Eph. Con- verse staked the claim ahead of us and that explains everything. He has played eavesdropper, and while Felipe and I were drinking at the spring he has ex- changed the stakes. Then he has hurried away to Frank Letiingwell and got a stake prepared with which he relocated the mine. It's all plain enough to me. Jake. Well, what'll we do ? Burke. There's only one thing can be done. We will put Frank Letiingwell out of the way now, and send Ei>h. Converse over the range as soon as he comes back. We have lost the Eva D., but we can get the Eva L., and it's worth two of the other. Now, we've got to make sure work. I want the Eva L. mine, but I want Frank Lefhngwell out of the way for another reason. THE TWO BONANZAS. 47 Jake. I understand, I reckon; but how's it to be, knives or bullets? Burke. Knives. They don't make any noise, besides cartridges can be counted and bullet holes can be measured. Knives it must be, and to-night. What do you say ? Jake. That suits me; but wliat's your plan, how'U we work it ? Burke. Easy enough. "We will leave moccasin tracks aboTit the place, drag the corpse out and scalp it, burn the cabin, and it was Indians. Isn't that plain enough ? Jake. That sounds well enough. But — is Lef- fingwell alone? Burke. So far as I know — oh, of course he is. The halfbreed was there a good deal while Leffing- well was sick — but he is better now — and I don't think Felipe ever slept there. Jake. We must be careful, Lefflngwell is a tiger. Burke. But he has been sick for three weeks, besides we can both strike at once to make sure work. Jake. An' if we git the property, I'm to stand in even. Burke. Why, of course. It's ten now, we can get through by half-past eleven. Let's move. Jake. I'm ready ; but say, who crawls in first? Burke. You. Jake. No, you. Burke. We'll toss a dollar. Jake. All right ; heads or tails {throws). Burke. Heads. Jake. {Strikes match and looks.) Heads it is. I go first. Come on. {Both c.vif talking in low tones.) 48 THE TWO BONANZAS. Scene 2. — Interior of Frank's cabin. — Frank and Felipe' lying on bunk.- — A face (ipiiears at tvindow, hack. — Slight noise at window. — Felipe sits up and listens, i — Goes to windoic, runs back, buckles on knife and pistol, picks up club and returns to window. — Jake Cusick removes sash and crawls irj, with knife in teeth. — Felipe knocks him senseless. — Burke Nass- ' gar follows Jake and is knocked senseless. — Felipe, listens for others, then ties the tivo hand and foot, strikes a light and examines prisoners. Felipe. Burke Nassgar and Jake Cusick — I thought so. Not hurt much, but I Avill inform Frank. {Goes to Frank.] Franka, Franka! Frank. Humpli. Felipe. Two felly crawl in wind}'— mebbe so me kill 'em. Frank. (Startled.) What! Felipe. Burke Nassgar 'n Jake Cusick crawl in windy — me hit 'em — see ? Frank. In the name of heaven what were they doing ? Felipe. Dunno. 'M got knife in mouth, mebbe so 'm kill you. Frank. What did you strike them with? Why | didn't you awaken me ? Have you killed them ? Felipe. No, me no wakey j^ou — no make noise — me hit 'em, me tie 'em. Frank. Did you strike them hard? Are they dead ? Felipe. Quien sabe. No speck 'm dead. | Frank. Get some water, and be quick, Felipe. They have come here to commit a nuirder, but if we let them die, without trying to save them, that would itself be murder. Get a couple of towels. {Frank bathes Jake's face, Felipe bathes Burke's.) Jake. (Recovering.') What's the matter, Burke? I Frank. Never mind, Jake, lie still, j'ou are hurt? Jake.' {Groans and looks about.) Did you get uSy Leffingwell ? Frank. I didn't— Felipe did — look at your hands and feet. THE TWO BONANZAS. 49 Jake. Oh, God ha' mercy, we are gone. What you goin' to do with us ? Frank, (-rive you to the Vigilantes. What were you after ? Jake. Say, please, Mr. Leffingwell, don't give me to the Vigilantes. It was Burke got me to come. I'll tell ye everything, if ye won't give me to the Vigi- lantes. We was going to kill you — Burke was — I wasn't. He wanted to kill you to git Eva Dundas and the Eva L. mine. We didn't know Felipe was here — Ave thought you was alone. Burke. {Recovering.) Jake, where are you? Come here. I'm hurt. I must have fallen. Jake. That's what ye did, an' yer tied too. The jig's up. I wish I'd never seen ye. Burke. {Loohing about.) Frank Leffingwell and Felipe the half-breed (groans), as sure as my name is Burke Nassgar. '" Felipe. You mean as sure as your name is John J en re e. BuKKE. You lie, sir. Felipe. Have a care, sir, or I'll strike you, wounded and bound as you are. [Enter Juanlta.) JuANiTA. Where is John Jenree? Felipe. There he is cousin Ellen. [Throwing off disguise.) I am your cousin, Clayton McClelland. Your husband, John Jenree, I have tied, there, be- cause he entered this room to murder your friend and benefactor, Frank Leffingwell. g^° Henceforth Felipe is ('lai/ton McClelland and Juanita is Ellen Jenree. Ellen. My cousin, Clayton McClelland — Clayton — ( They en^brace, Clayton supports her,) and — oh, God — Johnny, is this true? But I know it is. I know you left me and our baby in the mountains to starve, and yet my heart would strive to disbelieve. It would say he is wild and reckless, but not— not capable of that. Oh, Johnny, you are a murderer, a double- murderer. You left us alone at a cabin in the moun- tains. I lived, but baby is dead. You starved it. You would have starved me. You would have mur- dered one who saved my life. Oh, you basilisk, you snake, you scorpion. Beware of him — beware— scor- pions are dangerous reptiles— he is a scorpion — take 50 THE TWO BONANZAS. him away — take him away. (Faints, Clayton supports her.) Clayton. Guard him well, Frank, until I return. {Bears Ellen off L.) Jake. If you'll let me off, INIr. Leffingwell, I'll work for you as long as I live. Burke. Never mind, Jakey, my boy, you'll be let off. The vigilantes will let you off at the end of a limb. Jake. Don't talk that way, Burke — have some feelings. Burke. {Bitterly.) Ha, ha, ha! Frank. Is your name John Jenree, and is slie your wife ? Burke. Ask Clayton McClelland, your half-breea, he appears to know all about it {Enter Clayton.) Clayton. He does, and he will tell you all about it. Mr. Leffingwell, I have deceived vou, I am a wliite man and a Virginian. When I was an orphan of sixteen my cousin Ellen was an orphan of eight — we both lived with my uncle, who was very wealthy, but very eccentric, as well. W,^ quarreled, and my cousin Ellen took a position against me. I went into the Confederate army, then to Europe and Africa. At Gibralter I saw, in a New York papt.r, a personal advertisement, signed by my uncle, begging me to return to him. I came back, but was too late. My uncle had died, and my cousin had decamped with this John Jenree, whom I had never seen, but who was rejjuted to be a handsome adventurer, a reckless gambler, and withal a man not likely to take proper care of a wife. He married her, believing her to be the heiress to one-half my uncle's estate, when, in fact, she was heiress to one-half of it only on condi- tion that she married me. Jenree never dared ask her for the truth, but after they were married and he found she was not an heiress, he abandoned her and her child, sick and starving. He has wronged her; he has dishonored my family ; he has sought to mur- der you. I have tracked him two thousand miles, and I have found him. There can be no doubt of his guilt. Law is scarce here, and I propose one of two sentences for him .• You and I will hang him, or — I will kill him. Frank. Either would be both cowardly and THE TWO BONANZAS. wrong, Mr. McClelland. We have a People's Court ; let him be tried by that, and you may depend upon the justice of its sentence. Clayton. Vntie him — give him my pistol — I will take yours; then ta^te that other cutthroat out and lock the door! There is nothing cowardly in that! Frank. Mr. McClelland, you are excited. Would you throw your life into the balance against that of a vagabond and an outlaw ? I will allow nothing of the kind; and on the other hand, to kill a prisoner, wounded and bound, without a trial, would be denom- inated murder, even by a People's Court. Wait until to-morrow, you will be cool then, and I am sure you will agree with me. Will you wait? Clayton. Yes, sir ; if you wish it they shall have a trial ; but John Jenree is my prisoner, and he shall not escape punishment, provided I live to see justice done. You are not a well man, Mr. Leffingwell, by a week or two. Go to your rest. I will guard this precious pair. If they behave they will live to eat breakfast and stand trial — otherwise they will need no ti'ial. Frank. On the strength of that promise I will take my blankets and go to the tunntl where it will be quiet, for, to confess the truth, I am not as strong as I would like to be. I need caution you only to be careful as to your own safety, and to look after ttie comfort of your cousin in the next room. Good night. (Exit.) Clayton. Goodnight. {To Burke and Jake.) Now, you fellows, I must trouble you to take up new posi- tions. {Ties Burke's feet to one leg of bank, Jake's to the other. Ties their hands above their lieads as they lie on the floor, so that if they move their hands they will ptill strings attached to triggers of two guns, so placed on ehnirs as to shoot them. Sloiv music.) Now, if you remain quiet, you will rest as comfortably as you deserve ; if you make a move to break away, then you and your Maker for it. I have got to take care of that poor girl whom your villainies have made ill. You can talk, but don't get to scuffling. {Exit L.) Burke. Jake, it's all up with us. I'm going to light out of this. Jake. Light out ? If you ain't a bigger fool'n I am, you'll lay still. Don't you i. now them guns is loaded, and if you move you'll be sliot through and through ? 52 THE TWO BONANZAS. Burke. That's it exactly. I am not going to be hanged by anj" vigilantes. I'm not going to have Clayton McClelland crowing over my conviction, I've played my hand high, and lost. What's the use of buckin' at a fate that's eternally against you? There's only one way out of it. The last ill turn I can do them is to pull on this string and rob them of a prisoner. Now, don't jerk when this gun goes off. Jake. Don't do it, Burke, for God's sake, don't. I can't lay still enough. I don't want to lay hyar, 'longside a dead man. Don't, don't — I wouldn't do you that a- way ! Burke. Oh, stop your clack. You can hang if you want to — it's only a question of taste. You tell "Clayton and Ellen if they ever give me away to the folks in old Vii-ginia, I'll haunt them to the lagt hour of their existence, if there's such a thing as a ghost getting out of a grave. Jake. Zhool Burke, don't talk that way. You've got hot chills goin' all up and down my back. Burke. Bah ! You're a baby. "Will you tell them ? Jake. Yes — but — say, Burlie, damn it, don't. Burke. Don't forget, noAV, and, good-bye. {Gun snaps.) Jake. Burke ! AVhat — Burke. Sh-h-h ! Bad cartridge — lay low — if he will only stay away now, just thirty seconds. Gets two knives dropped by liim and Jake. Takes knife in teeth and cats cord on hands ; cuts feet loose; cuts cord attached to Juke's gun, then cords on Jake's feet. Both rise.) {Enter Clayton.) Clayton. Down, there ! Drop doAvn ! Down, or I'll shoot! {Jake drops. Burke attacks Clayton with both knives. ) Burke. Shoot, but don't miss, Clayton Mc(>lelland, or I'll drop you. {Clayton f res. Burke falls.) Jake. Don't shoot no more. I surrender ! I sur- render ! [CURTAIN.] THE TWO BONANZAS. 53 ACT III. Scene 1. — Interior Diindas cottage ni mine — Eca and 3Ia del i n a discovered. Eva. 'Lena, does the world scciu brighter than it did before yon and Eph met in >."ew York? . Mad. Oh, so much. The sun so bright, the sweet wild flowers, the pretty birds, the grand mountains here so much like Italy — this is like heaven. Eva. Ah, 'Lena,love brightens all things. Before your brave lover, Eph, came to New York, I envied the little sparrows that flitted among the chiumey top.s, but since then i^apa is so changed. The morn- ing we left New York to come back here to the mountains, he patted my cheek as he used to do, and said, "Baby, it is getting warm here, wouldn't you like a trip to the mountains?" He knew I would be wild with delight. Isn't it nice, Lena, and how glad I am papa insisted that you should come along and be his daughter, as he said, until he could make some better disposition of you. Ah, you blush ! Don't you suppose papa knew that you and Eph wanted it that way. Mad. Yes, your fathah very, very kind to me and to Eph. Will Eph and Frank come soon ? Eva. Yes, I do not think Frank will lose any time after Eph has told him the result of his visit to New York. I hope Mr. McClelland and his cousin will come. I am sure I shall like her as much on account of her misfortunes as on account of her kind- ness to Frank during his illness. How like a fairy story that Feliiie the half breed should prove to be Mr. McClelland, a white man, and a cousin to ]Mrs. Jenree, ju.st at a time when she was almost without a friend in the world. ^NIad. And how like the work of good angels that he should save :Mr. Lelfingwell's liie. Oh, I do feel happy and thankful for you. 54 THE TWO BONANZAS. Eva. I thank yon my sister. Wasn't it horrible that they should try to murder poor Frank who never did any harm to any i:)erson in the world ? And to think of the awful fate of Burke Nassgar, and his companion in crime, whom Eph says the Vigilantes will surely hang. I am glad I do not know him. I think a person always pities one they know more than they can pity a stranger, don't you? {A knock.) Some one knocks. Will you see wdio it is, Lena ? Mad. Yes, maybe it is Eph come back. [Opens door. ) Frank, i. Without.) Good evening Miss, is INIiss Dundas in? Eva. Oh, it is Frank. Mad. Yes, sir, will you come in? (Enter Frank.) Frank. My little bonanza ! Eva. I knew you would come. (2' hey embrace.) Frank. Yes, I have just returned from Oro, and learning that you had returned from New York, I re- solved to brave the frowns of an angry father, and here I am. Eva. Why — didn't Eph tell you the good news ? Frank. No, I haven't seen Eph ; where is he? Eva. Oh, of course you could not have seen him ; he has gone over to your camj^ after you — and he bears good news — guess what ? Frank. Oh, I never could guess worth a farthing — but I have good news, too — better than you will expect. I have been working and bickering and negotiating three solid days, but I am through. The Eva L. brings Eph and me half a million in cash and we retain three-fifths of the stock. That isn't half bad, is it ? EvA. No, indeed, but I have better news than that. Frank. Well— and what is it? Eva. Papa has capitulated and wishes me to win your friendship for him. Frank. Well, you have rather beaten me in the matter of news, haven't you ? I will give you a mes- sage for him. Give him this for me {kisses her) and tell him we will bury our little hatchet. THE TWO BONANZAS. 55 Eva. Oh. Frank — excuse me, Lena, I have acted like a savage — Miss Ferrara, Mr. Leffingwell. Mad. Mr. Leffingwell. Frank. (Boning.) Miss Ferrara. Eva. {Exultantly.) May I tell him, Lena? Mad. Oh, no — well — yes, if you like. Eva. Eph and Madelina — Miss Ferrara — are en- gaged. Frank. It is scarcely the proper thing Miss Fer- rara, but I make an exception in this case. [Taking her hand.) I congratulate you ; Eph is worthy of you. Mad. Thank you. (Enter Dundas and Mrs. D.) Eva. Oh, mamma — papa — here is Frank ! DuNDAS. (Shaking hand.) Frank, my boy, how are you ? Frank. Almost well, thank you. Mrs. Dundas, (shaking hand,) I welcome you back to the mountains. Mrs. D. Thank you, Frank, I am glad to find you so well. DuNDAS. (Brings Frank down front.) Frank, you and Eph have proved yourselves men, while I have been acting the part of a tyrant. I wanted my way ; I admit it — but I admit more : I didn't get acc^uainted with a man while I was away who would have done more for a friend than you and Eph have done for me, while I was trying to be your enemy. Now if that is enough, let us be friends. Frank. (Taking profered hand.) Say no more. Men find their true friends only in adversity. I felt assured that time would convince you of my unsel- fishness and sincerity, and I hope the future will not disappoint you in any good you may think of me. Ei'u. ( Without) No, come right on in I I know the way, an' they told me, pertickler, not to come back without you. Come right in. (Enter Eph. Clay- ton and Ellen.) Well, hyar I am, an' I brought — Thar's Frank, b' gosh (shaking hands vigorou.sly). God bless ye, how are ye— we're all right, an' if 1 didn't have the dernedest time in New York. Sold the Eva L., didn't ye? Done well enough, tew. Say Frank, interduce" this lady and gentleman. I never tried to interduce two people in my life 'at I didn't 56 THE TWO BONANZAS. haf to let 'em tell one another their names, an' then ax 'em what mine was. Frank. { Introduciny Clayton and Ellen.) Mr. Mc- Clelland and IMrs. Jenree, Mr. Dundas. DuNDAs. ( To Clayton. ) Glad to meet you, sir, as Mr. McClelland, though I do part with reluctance from my old friend Felipe, the half-breed. Clayton. I assure you, sir, I am glad enough to bid him a final adieu. Dundas. Mrs. Jenree, I welcome you. Ellen. Thank you. Frank. Mrs. Dundas. Mrs. D. {Proffering hand.) Mr. McClelland. Clayton. Mrs. Dundas. Mrs. D. Mrs. Jenree. Ellen. Mrs. Dundas. Mrs. D. We were very anxious you should come, and I am glad you did not disappoint us. Frank. Miss Dundas. Eva. Mr. McClelland. Clayton. Miss Dundas. Eva. Frank has spoken of you frequently in his letters — and of you, too, Mrs. Jenree (kmingher); I am sure we all thank you for your care of Frank when he was ill. Ellen. It was nothing, I assure. Frank, Miss Ferrara. Mad. Mr. McClelland. Clayton. Miss Ferrara. Mad. Mrs. Jenree. Ellen. Miss Ferrara. ]Mad. I hear so much good about you, I hope you will like me. Eph. 'M b'gosh ! Mad. Why, Eph. {Tapping him with fan.) Eph. If Frank can't take a mixed crowd an' straighten 'em out quicker'n a piece of double taj^e fuse kin set off" a stick o' giant powder. But say, Frank, we've got the Tew Bonanzas purty well placed — now what'll Ave do ? THE TWO BONANZAS. 57 Frank. {Crossing to Eva.) What do you say, Eva, they shall all be our guests this summer. We will camp out, climb mouutains, hunt, fish, go boating on the lakes, and throw dull care to the winds. What do you say ? Eva. Yes. Oh, that is just the thing. Eph. An' Madelina, what do yew say. This autumn they shall all be our guests. We'll take 'em back to mother's, in old Varmount, an' feed 'em fruit, an' cider, an' doughnuts, an' pumpkin pies, till they can't lind no rest this side o' the grave, b'gosh. What do yew say ? Mad. Yes, yes; let us all go together. Clayton. Then, my friends, I am sure my cousin will join me in inviting you all to spend the winter at our cozy estate in old Virginia, where we will be proud to present to our old friends at home, the new friends we have found in the Far West. What do you say, cousin ? Ellen. Nothing would give me greater pleasure tlian the assurance that we shall not be parted, at least before the Christmas and New Year holidays. But, is it all agreed upon ? All. Yes, yes. Eph. Then let us join in a song, the sentimental burden of which is, " Bally for Colorado an' the Two Bonanzas," and let everybody join in the chorus. POSITIONS : Eva. Mrs. D. Frank. Ddxdas. Mad. Elayton. Eph. Ellen. SOLO AND CHOParS. Air: — ''Marching Through Georgia." We sing to Colorado, let no grumbling voices mar; We sing her best beloved son, the Kniglit of Pick and Car ; We ?ing her noble mountains, too, that loomed so from afar, When we crossed the plains for Colorado. Cho.— Hurrah, hurrah, the leader of the line; The queen of all the states, boys, for gold or silver mine, And so we sang the chorus in the days of '69, When we crossed the plains for Colorado. 58 THE TWO BONANZAS. We sing her verdaut valleys, and her streams and forests gay; We sing the scenes that everywhere Dame Nature does display; We sing the hope thnt none who come may e'er regret the day, When they crossed the plains for Colorado. Chc— To Colorado, grand and great we pledge our loyalty: Her sword be ever ready, and her people ever free, And may her destiny exceed our fondest prophecy, When we crossed the plains for Colorado. Chc— [CURTAIN— THE END.] J LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 793 077 1