Two Men of Sandy Bar Part 10

[Exit slowly, supported by COL. STARBOTTLE, R.

As STARBOTTLE and MISS MARY exeunt R., CONCHO and HOP SING enter cautiously, L. SANDY slowly rises to his feet, pa.s.ses his hand across his forehead, looks around toward exit of STARBOTTLE and MISS MARY.

Sandy (slowly, but with more calmness of demeanor). Gone, gone--forever!

No: I am not mad, nor crazed with drink. My hands no longer tremble.

There is no confusion here. (Feeling his forehead). I heard them all. It was no dream. I heard her every word. Alexander Morton, yes, they spoke of Alexander Morton. She is going to him, to my father. She is going--she, Mary, my cousin--she is going to my father. He has been seeking me--has found--ah! (Groans.) No, no, Sandy! Be patient, be calm: you are not crazy--no, no, good Sandy, good old boy! Be patient, be patient: it is coming, it is coming. Yes, I see: some one has leaped into my place; some one has leaped into the old man's arms. Some one will creep into HER heart! No! by G.o.d! No! I am Alexander Morton. Yes, yes! But how, how shall I prove it?--how? Who (CONCHO steps cautiously forward towards SANDY un.o.bserved) will believe the vagabond, the outcast--my G.o.d!--the crazy drunkard?

Concho (advancing, and laying his hand on SANDY). I will!

Sandy (staggering back amazedly). You!

Concho. Yes,--I, I,--Concho! You know me, Diego, you know me,--Concho, the major-domo of the Blessed Innocents. Ha! You know me now. Yes, I have come to save you. I have come to make you strong. So--I have come to help you strip the Judas that has stepped into your place,--the sham prodigal that has had the fatted calf and the ring,--ah! ah!

Sandy. You? You do not know me!

Concho. Ah! you think, you think, eh? Listen: Since you left I have tracked HIM--THE IMPOSTOR, this Judas, this coyote--step by step, until his tracks crossed yours; and then I sought you out. I know all. I found a letter you had dropped; that brought me to Poker Flat. Ah, you start!

I have seen those who knew you as Alexander Morton. You see! Ah, I am wise.

Sandy (aside). It is true. (Aloud.) But (suspiciously) why have you done this? You, Concho?--you were not my friend.

Concho. No, but HE is my enemy. Ah, you start! Look at me, Alexander Morton, Sandy, Diego! You knew a man, strong, active, like yourself.

Eh! Look at me now! Look at me, a cripple! Eh! lame and crushed here (pointing to his leg), broken and crushed here (pointing to his heart), by him,--the impostor! Listen, Diego. The night I was sent to track you from the rancho, he--this man--struck me from the wall, dashed me to the earth, and made MY BODY, broken and bruised, a stepping-stone to leap the wall into your place, Diego,--into your father's heart,--into my master's home. They found me dead, they thought,--no, not dead, Diego!

It was sad, they said,--unfortunate. They nursed me; they talked of money--eh, Diego!--money! They would have pensioned me to hush scandal--eh! I was a dog, a foreigner, a Greaser! Eh! That is why I am here. No! I love you not, Diego; you are of his race; but I hate--Mother of G.o.d!--I HATE him!

Sandy (rising to his feet, aside). Good! I begin to feel my courage return: my nerves are stronger. Courage, Sandy! (Aloud.) Be it so, Concho: there is my hand! We will help each other,--you to my birthright, I to your revenge! Hark ye! (SANDY'S manner becomes more calm and serious.) This impostor is NO craven, NO coyote. Whoever he is, he must be strong. He has most plausible evidences. We must have rigid proofs. I will go with you to Poker Flat. There is one man, if he be living, knows me better than any man who lives. He has done me wrong,--a great wrong, Concho,--but I will forgive him. I will do more,--I will ask his forgiveness. He will be a witness no man dare gainsay--my partner--G.o.d help him and forgive him as I do!--John Oakhurst.

Concho. Oakhurst your partner!

Sandy (angrily). Yes. Look ye, Concho, he has wronged me in a private way: that is MY business, not YOURS; but he was MY partner, no one shall abuse him before me.

Concho. Be it so. Then sink here! Rot here! Go back to your husks, O prodigal! wallow in the ditches of this camp, and see your birthright sold for a dram of aguardiente! Lie here, dog and coyote that you are, with your mistress under the protection of your destroyer! For I tell you--I, Concho, the cripple--that the man who struck me down, the man who stepped into your birthright, the man who to-morrow welcomes your sweetheart in his arms, who holds the custody of your child, is your partner,--John Oakhurst.

Sandy (who has been sinking under CONCHO'S words, rising convulsively to his feet). G.o.d be merciful to me a sinner! (Faints.)

Concho (standing over his prostrate body exultingly). I am right. You are wise, Concho, you are wise! You have found Alexander Morton!

Hop Sing (advancing slowly to SANDY'S side, and extending open palm).

Me washee s.h.i.+rt flo you, flowty dozen hab. You no payee me. Me wantee twenty dollar hep. Sabe!

Curtain.

END OF ACT II.

ACT III.

SCENE 1.--The bank parlor of Morton & Son, San Francisco. Room richly furnished; two square library desks, left and right. At right, safe in wall; at left, same with practicable doors. Folding door in flat C., leading to counting-room. Door in left to private room of ALEXANDER MORTON, sen.; door in right to private room of MORTON, jun. ALEXANDER MORTON, sen., discovered at desk R., opening and reading letters.

Morton, sen. (laying down letter). Well, well, the usual story; letters from all sorts of people, who have done or intend to do all sorts of things for my reclaimed prodigal. (Reads.) "Dear Sir: five years ago I loaned some money to a stranger who answers the description of your recovered son. He will remember Jim Parker,--Limping Jim, of Poker Flat.

Being at present short of funds, please send twenty dollars, amount loaned, by return mail. If not convenient, five dollars will do as instalment." Pshaw! (Throws letter aside, and takes up another.) "Dear Sir: I invite your attention to enclosed circular for a proposed Home for Dissipated and Anonymous Gold-Miners. Your well-known reputation for liberality, and your late valuable experience in the reformation of your son, will naturally enlist your broadest sympathies. We enclose a draft for five thousand dollars, for your signature." We shall see! Another: "Dear Sir: the Society for the Formation of Bible Cla.s.ses in the Upper Stanislaus acknowledge your recent munificent gift of five hundred dollars to the cause. Last Sabbath Brother Hawkins of Poker Flat related with touching effect the story of your prodigal to an a.s.semblage of over two hundred miners. Owing to unusual expenses, we regret to be compelled to draw upon you for five hundred dollars more." So! (Putting down letter.) If we were given to pride and vainglory, we might well be puffed up with the fame of our works and the contagion of our example: yet I fear that, with the worldly-minded, this praise of charity to others is only the prayerful expectation of some personal application to the praiser. (Rings hand-bell.)

Enter JACKSON.

(To JACKSON.) File these letters (handing letters) with the others.

There is no answer. Has young Mr. Alexander come in yet?

Jackson. He only left here an hour ago. It was steamer day yesterday: he was up all night, sir.

Old Morton (aside). True. And the night before he travelled all night, riding two hours ahead of one of our defaulting agents, and saved the bank a hundred thousand dollars. Certainly his devotion to business is unremitting. (Aloud.) Any news from Col. Starbottle?

Jackson. He left this note, sir, early this morning.

Old Morton (takes it, and reads). "I think I may say, on my own personal responsibility, that the mission is successful. Miss Morris will arrive to-night with a female attendant and child." (To JACKSON.) That is all, sir. Stop! Has any one been smoking here?

Jackson. Not to my knowledge, sir.

Old Morton. There was a flavor of stale tobacco smoke in the room this morning when I entered, and ashes on the carpet. I KNOW that young Mr.

Alexander has abandoned the pernicious habit. See that it does not occur again.

Jackson. Yes, sir. (Aside.) I must warn Mr. Alexander that his friends must be more careful; and yet those ashes were good for a deposit of fifty thousand.

Old Morton. Is any one waiting?

Jackson. Yes, sir,--Don Jose Castro and Mr. Capper.

Old Morton. Show in the Don: the policeman can wait.

Jackson. Yes, sir. [Exit.

Old Morton (taking up STARBOTTLE'S note). "Miss Morris will arrive to-night." And yet he saw her only yesterday. This is not like her mother: no. She would never have forgiven and forgotten so quickly.

Perhaps she knew not my sin and her mother's wrongs; perhaps she has--has--CHRISTIAN forgiveness (sarcastically); perhaps, like my prodigal, she will be immaculately perfect. Well, well: at least her presence will make my home less lonely. "An attendant and child." A child! Ah, if HE, my boy, my Alexander, were still a child, I might warm this cold, cold heart in his suns.h.i.+ne! Strange that I cannot reconstruct from this dutiful, submissive, obedient, industrious Alexander,--this redeemed outcast, this son who shares my life, my fortunes, my heart,--the foolish, wilful, thoughtless, idle boy, that once defied me.

I remember (musing, with a smile) how the little rascal, ha, ha! once struck me,--STRUCK ME!--when I corrected him: ha, ha! (Rubbing his hands with amus.e.m.e.nt, and then suddenly becoming grave and lugubrious.) No, no. These are the whisperings of the flesh. Why should I find fault with him for being all that a righteous conversion demands,--all that I asked and prayed for? No, Alexander Morton: it is you, YOU, who are not yet regenerate. It is YOU who are ungrateful to Him who blessed you, to Him whose guiding hand led you to--

Enter JACKSON.

Jackson. Don Jose Castro.

Enter DON JOSE.

Don Jose. A thousand pardons, senor, for interrupting you in the hours of business; but it is--it is of business I would speak. (Looking around.)

Old Morton (to JACKSON). You can retire. (Exit JACKSON.) Be seated, Mr.

Castro: I am at your service.

Don Jose. It is of your--your son--