Produced by David Garcia, Justin Gillbank, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net THE COMSTOCK CLUB. BY C. C. GOODWIN EDITOR SALT LAKE DAILY TRIBUNE. Neither radiant angels nor magnified monsters, but just plain, true men. 1891. TRIBUNE JOB PRINTING COMPANY, SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. _Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1891, by_ THE LEONARD PUBLISHING COMPANY, _in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C._ TO THE MINERS OF THE PACIFIC COAST, THIS BOOK, WHICH WAS WRITTEN WHILE WORKING FOR AND AMONG THEM, IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR. _Salt Lake City, Utah, December 15, 1891._ CONTENTS. I. THE OLD FLUSH DAYS II. THE CLUB III. MIRAGES IV. THE ARGONAUTS V. THE CALL OF THE BIRDS VI. THE PERFUME AND THE LIGHT VII. MAN AS A WORKER VIII. ROUGH ROYALTY IX. MORE ROYALTY X. SPECIMEN LIARS XI. THE CLUB GROWS POETICAL XII. AN UNBIASED JUDGE XIII. SISTER CELESTE XIV. TROUBLE WITH THE EXPENSE ACCOUNT XV. HUMOR OF THE WEST XVI. TROUBLE IN THE CLUB XVII. UP IN THE SHEAVES XVIII. THE TERRIBLE DEPTHS XIX. THE DAWN OF ELYSIUM XX. THREE POSTSCRIPTS THE COMSTOCK CLUB. CHAPTER I. "The pioneer! Who shall fitly tell the story of his life and work? "The soldier leads an assault; it lasts but a few minutes; he knows that whether he lives or dies, immortality will be his reward. What wonder that there are brave soldiers! "But when this soldier of peace assaults the wilderness, no bugles sound the charge; the forest, the desert, the wild beast, the savage, the malaria, the fatigue, are the foes that lurk to ambush him, and if, against the unequal odds, he falls, no volleys are fired above him; the pitiless world merely sponges his name from its slate. "Thus he blazes the trails, thus he fells the trees, thus he plants his rude stakes, thus he faces the hardships, and whatever fate awaits him, his self-contained soul keeps its finger on his lips, and no lamentations are heard. "He smooths the rugged fields, he turns the streams, and the only cheer that is his is when he sees the grain ripen, and the flowers bloom where before was only the frown of the wilderness. When over the trail that he has blazed, enlightenment comes joyously, with unsoiled sandals, and homes and temples spring up on the soil that was first broken by him, his youth is gone, hope has been chastened into silence within him; he realizes that he is but a back number. "Not one in a thousand realizes the texture of the manhood that has been exhausting itself within him; few comprehend his nature or have any conception of his work.