Comstock Lode (Nev.) -- Fiction; Miners -- Fiction; Virginia City (Nev.) -- Fiction
He was educated, and though of retiring ways, when he talked everybody
near him listened. He was not a miner, but a mechanical engineer, and
his work was the running of power drills in the mine. He never talked
much of his own affairs, but it was understood that misfortune in
business had caused him to seek the West somewhat late in life. The
truth was he had never been rich. He possessed a moderately prosperous
business until a long illness came to his wife, and when the depression
which followed the reaction from the war and the contraction of the
currency fell upon the North, he found he had little left, and so sought
a new field.
He was the Nestor of the Club and was exceedingly loved by his
companions.
Miller, who first proposed the Club, was a New Yorker by birth, a man
forty-five years of age, medium height, keen gray eyes, a clear-cut,
sharp face, slight of build, but all nerve and muscle, and lithe as a
panther. He had been for a quarter of a century on the west coast, and
knew it well from British Columbia to Mexico, and from the Rocky
Mountains to the Pacific.
He was given a good education in his youth; he had mingled with all
sorts of men and been engaged in all kinds of business. There was a
perpetual flash to his eyes, and a restlessness upon him which made him
uneasy if restrained at all. He had the reputation of being inclined to
take desperate chances sometimes, but was honorable, thoroughly, and
generous to a fault.
He had studied men closely, and of Nature's great book he was a constant
reader. He knew the voices of the forests and of the streams; he had a
theory that the world was but a huge animal; that if we were but wise
enough to understand, we should hear from Nature's own voices the story
of the world and hear revealed all her profound secrets.
He possessed a magnetism which drew friends to him everywhere. His hair
was still unstreaked with gray, but his face was care-worn, like that of
one who had been dissipated or who had suffered many disappointments.
Carlin was twenty-eight years of age, long of limb, angular, gruff, but
hearty; quick, sharp and shrewd, but free-handed and generally in the
best of humors. He was an Illinois man, and a good type of the men of
the Old West.
His eyes were brown, his hair chestnut; erect, he was six feet in
height, but seated, there seemed to be no place for his hands and hardly
room enough for his feet. He was well-educated, and had been but three
and a half years on the Comstock.
All the Californians in the Club insisted, of course, that there was no
other place but that, but this Carlin always vehemently denied, for he
came from the State of Lincoln and Douglas, and the State, moreover,
that had Chicago in one corner of it, and he did not believe there was
another such State in all the Republic.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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