California -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction; Western stories
"My house is all yours," said he.
Thus, although arriving late, we stopped at the best quarters in the
town. The sense of obligation to any one but our boatman was
considerably relieved when next day we paid what we owed for our
lodging. Also, had it not been for Talbot and Johnny, I am sure Yank and
I would have taken to the jungle. There seemed to be required so much
bowing, smiling, punctiliousness and elaborate complimenting that in a
short time I felt myself in the precise mental attitude of a very small
monkey shaking the bars of his cage with all four hands and gibbering in
the face of some benign and infinitely superior professor. I fairly
ached behind the ears trying to look sufficiently alert and bland and
intelligent. Yank sat stolid, chewed tobacco and spat out of the window,
which also went far toward stampeding me. Talbot and Johnny, however,
seemed right at home. They capped the old gentleman's most elaborate and
involved speeches, they talked at length and pompously about nothing at
all; their smiles were rare and sad and lingering--not a bit like my
imbecile though well-meant grinning--and they seemed to be able to stick
it out until judgment day. Not until I heard their private language
after it was all over did I realize they were not enjoying the occasion
thoroughly.
Toward sunset occurred a welcome break. A mob of natives suddenly burst
into view, from the direction of town. They were running madly, led by a
very little man and a very big man. The two latter rushed up to the edge
of the veranda, on which we were all sitting, and began to talk
excitedly, both at once.
"What's the row?" we asked Talbot in a breath.
"Can't make out yet; something about a fight."
The _alcalde_ commanded order. Then the matter became clear. The
very large man and the very little man had had a fight, and they had
come for justice. This much Talbot made plain. Then he chuckled
explosively.
"The little man is making his accusation against himself!" he told us.
"He is charging _himself_ with having assaulted and beaten the
other fellow. And the big one is charging _himself_ with having
licked the little one. Neither wants to acknowledge he got licked; and
each would rather pay a fine and have it entered on the records that he
won the fight. So much for sheer vanity!"
Each had his desire. The _alcalde_, with beautiful impartiality,
fined them both; and nonchalantly pocketed the proceeds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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