THE TRUE STORY OF THE BRADA MINING COMPANY, LIMITED.

Bush Advocate, Volume V, Issue 354, 16 August 1890, Page 9

THE TRUE STORY OF THE BRADA MINING COMPANY, LIMITED.

Paex I. - «» It won't do, Zeb j itwon't do." And the miller rose from hi 3 seat, took d»wn hi^ long clay pipe from tho rafters, and lighted it in front of the big fireplace. Zebediah Quirk felt it waa all over with him then. He gave a little gasp, but still kept bis ohair, and with eyes bent upon the flags, sat there fumbling with hia cap. He was aj>lea»a».t2ooking young fellow, snort and slender: in figure, yftth smaller hands and feet tfeau 13 ueuaj^with those who have to live by manual fakbour; neat in his dress and very quiet in his tooe and manner. He,vras about to speak, when I)he miller, turning again to him^- went on c *' It! 8 not that I've got anything against th^ee, lad. Don't run away with'that notion ia thy ■fcQ&d, Zeb. If thee wast more of a foan—snora like John Senogles, now, who can majv his acre tod a half in a day easily— l shouldn't like th«a any the worse for it ; ao if thee sometimes took a mug of ale, or, maybe, a drop of whisky for ihy stomach's sake, instead of goin' about ivita them Bechabite chaps, who seem to think ths t eoldwater'll float them to heaven, there'*L b« some chance for thee, lad. But, setttn' ali ih\t aside"— the miller stopped and blew out a great cloud of smoke- "There's the money." " I've got the shop and the stock," urged Zeb, raising his eyes for one momeit to l*«k at ihe miller, a sturdy, square-shouldered man, so, grey that it seemed as if flour had been *prinkred freely over face, hair, beard, and clothas. M The shop and stock !" exclaimed the miller. with scorn. "An' what doea it come to? Pat it in land. There's nothing like land, Zeb. When thees just lookin' at it tho corn is {jpowin*. Well, what's the value of thy shop an' stock in land ? Five acres, eh ? Four, more Bkery. There's John Senogles with twenty, all fiis own, an' a house—" Zeb rose rather impatiently. " You've no call, Master Kadoliffe»" said he» uto be always throwing John Senoglbs at my kead." "Nay, nay, lad," flaid the miller, soothingly: " that wasu'fc my intention at all. It wan only o#my daughter I was thiukin'. If I let her matrv a man who can't afford to keep a wife I shouldn't be dom* my-dutr." . ".But I shall be making money," said Zeb. . "I don't deny, it's possible, ' Zefc, though I dxm'tsee much prospect of it myself. What with the fishiu' going .from bad to worse, an' the men livin' on credit, the grocery business fe the worst in the whole Me of Man. But, any wav, can thee keep a wife on what thee will maker Next year's harvest won't keep tho mil goin' this year, will it ?" ""No ; but we are both young and can wait." .*' Thea can wait, lad. A man can marry at sixty — if he's a fool. But can a gel wait ? Her chances come when she is young and has good looks. If she don't take them then, she loses them altogether. It is fair, do thee thiak, Zefe, to spoil a gel's life for a whim ?" The linos about Zeb's mouth had been harden* ing as he listened, and the look of paia had deepened in his soft brown eyes. M Whim, or no whim," said he. "it sin't be said that Brada's life was spoiled by me. If aster Itadcliffe. She shall be free to marry whom she will; see shall not be bound to me at all. But here, before you, her father*- I solemnly bind myself to her." ." That's not fair to thyself now," said tho miller. *'Then (here's none can grumble at it," returned Zeb. " I swear to be true to her, cosae what may. But let her do as sh« will ; many, if she see.; somebody to suit her ; stay single if sho dou'v. I will wait for her, though she needn't wait for me." The miller, taking the pipe from hia mouth, Looked silently at Zeb beneath hi 3 shaggy grey brows. "Shake hands lad," he said, at length, "We'll remain friends, anyway." „ So the two shook hands, and then Zeb wished the miller good-evening, and went his way. As he.passed through the garden he plucked a rose from a bush which grew beside the wicket gate ; &ut when he reached tho little bridge, he leaned against the rail, and, not thinking of what ho was doing, pulled the flower to pieces. The red leaves fell into the water, and went racing towards the wheel. ( But Zeb did net know they were there, for his eyes were dim with tears. Dotth the steep side of a gleu came a girl, swinging her Btraw hat to and fro as she moved awjf fly. through the golden gorse and purple heathen. There- was a ruddy glow of health in her pretty, sunburned face ; her dark hair tumbled about her shoulders in picturesque dis•order..'' As ehe wnlked she caroled like a lark. But presently, at the entrance to thevillage, 6ho ■noticed the solitary figure standing on the bridge, and her song ceased. ♦' What has the rose done to you, poor thing, Zeb?" she asked, mischierously, coming npou bim unawares. At the sound of her voice all the colour left his face. He crossed the bridge to make room for >her to pass over. " Good evening, Brada/' he said, awkwardly, without looking at her. "What's amiss with you, Zeb? Have you 'and she fallen out between yourselves ?" ■*» What she is that?" "Why, the she that gave you tho rose, to be sure," answered Brada, Baucily. " Oh, yes, come now, don't be denying it, Zob. There's a deal more going on among the Primitives than praying and preaching." In spite of nis youth, Zebediah Quirk was a shining light among the little band of Primitive Methodists in the glen. But the miller waa a staunch churohman,and his daughter followed in ■hia footsteps, affecting to make merry at Zeb and the Primitives, yet pleased enough when they spoke of him as having "the gifb of tongues." But Zeb waß vexed now that her heart •should be so light, when his waa so heavy ; and he answered her more roughly than was his wont. "It's well for you to be able to laugh. I •can't laugh, I can tell you ; but then, perhaps I . care more iior you than you for me. I always aaid so, didn't I ? Anyway, it's all over beftween.us now. You are free to marry — " he was about to say " John Senogles or anybody else," but checked himself and substituted., H any person y 011 please." " What's thia, Zob f" she asked, more 1 gravely now. " Who luw been speaking against me'? What have they been saying ?" "Nobody has been speaking against y«u. ' That would bo impossible. But your father -says I'm not man enough, and have not money - enough, to marry you. Twenty acres is your value," said Zeb, rather bitterly. "I'm only valued at four— too much, by your price. Do you know anybody with twenty acres, Brada — ariy marrying man, I meanP" "That 8 jasfc your nasty way of putting it," said Brada, with an indignant toss of the head. "If you think to better yourself with me by ■speaking in tliat way of father you'll find yourself mighty mistaken. John Senogles wouldn't have done it, whatever you may say of him. So there, my man !" And she stepped on to the bridge. She was slowly crossing the bridge now. Zeb waited a few moments, then walked a little ■way, stopped, and looked back. Brada had stopped, too, pretending to be unable to open the gate. Both were yearning to speak, to make friends a gum ; to part, if part they must, 113 lovers should. One word would have brought them together ; but neither could utter it. It was not pride, but sheer awkwardness that held them silent. And so they drifted apirt, ■inst as the red sun was sinking over tho sea at •' Sic mouth of the glen, Brada entering the pretty little mill, while Zeb went slowly through tho village toward the beach. And now who should bo standing at the door of the inn but John Senogles himself— a big, yellow-bearded man, with euormous limbs and the strength of an ox. By his sido was another man, fat and podgy, with a round, red face, sjnart clothes, a diamond pin, and an ostonta- I bous watch chain. He waa a stranger to tho district. Zeb had never seen him before, and would hardly have noticed him now had he not heard that Senogles had lately been about a . good deal with a Mr. Johnson, who was lodging at the inn. "Hullo, Zeb!" cried Senogles, " goiri^ to the beach, eh ? It's no use, for the tide's high, and there's no sand to 1 egot." This wn.3 meant as an allusion to tho practice ' — alleged against some grocers — of adulterating • sugar with sand ; and Sonogles bellowed witb laughter at his own wit. " When you've got a new joke, Senoglev' returned Zeb, coldly, " como and toll me ; and • then maybo, after you've explained it to mo, I'll laugh at it. for you." " It seems you've got yonrpreaching coat on . Zeb," said .Senogles, shaking with laughter. " Give ua a bit of your next sermon. I'll stand you a glass of ale if you will/ Zeb was in no humour to be turned to ridicule ; least of all by John Senogles. Ho crossed the road, and, with clenched fists, ron- ■ fronted thn hig farmer grinning down at him from tha doorstep. " Look here, Sfcnorjles," said ho, " you mind your business and I'll mind mine. l)oii't you - interfere with me and I'll not interfere with you. If you go meddling with mo — " " Well, what?" inquired Senogles, seeing that . Zob hesitated. "Why, I'll teach you bettor manners," said . Zeb, defiantly.

Seaoglea laughed again ; but this time a ; little awkwardly, and with an uneasy -glance at hifl companion. Not that he waß frightened ef Zeb. He was too big and too powerful to fear getting the worst oi" a scrimmage, but ho bad no wish to cutei 1 upou anything of tko sort. So he said :— "Why, Zub, what has come over you this | evening? It waa only my fun, man. I wasn't moaning you aor harm." <• Well, ke^p your fan to yeursolf another time," returnf.'A'Zeb, "I want none of it." And ho waifctd away. He caryiati his kead rather higher thaa usual, for he felt that ha had lowered tho colours of the big, bullying farmer— his rival. In the ml<lstof his pain this thought gavo hua a certain grim fe&tfsfaction. But afterward, whoa he reviewed the events of the evening, there came tho reaction He had always been been on the best terms with his neighbours, and how, In «uo day,, he had spoken disreßpectf ully of the old miller, parted iv anger from Brada, and qaarrolled with Jehn Senogles. Surely there, must be something wrong here— something f«r which kewas to blame, and for which he could make amends. After what had occurred he could not vary well go to Brada or her father, but^ ho could go to Senogleß. And before Suaday-Zeb decided that he w«uld. John Senogles owned a small farm away up on the mountain side, part of it being so steep that th« crops, when out, had to be brought down on a sort ef rough slegh. Zob started to walk to the farm on Saturday afternoon. He had no patents ;- only a sister whom he supported, and ske teok care «f the shop during his absences He felt, in Berne strange way, that ke was doing what Brada would have liked kin to do, an 4 the feeling, seemed to lighten his burden. Fer it was a long, tough road that lay before him— not thiß one, up the mountain elm, but that other, whick led .t© all that he .had set his heart upon. T» win Brada — that was his sole ambition ; and how to make enough money to please her father was more than he c-onld imagine. Presently he left the path, and— croisisg a stretch of moorland Blasting sharply upward, ao that he semeed to look almost straight down into tho little glen below, with its mill, and stream, and cottages stragglfng toward <k» sea — he arrived at the shaft of an old mine, or, rather, the commencement of one. There are scores »f these abortive boring* scattered about the island, the. success of ono *r two i»ines haviagled to attempts at many. Zeb sat down on the rubble mound for a few moments to take breath, and as he did so a glint of sunlight from the ouarried rock caught his eye. At first he paid no heed to it. lie was too much, engaged in thinking of some way to make money. But of a sudden this bright spot in tho rock seized upon his attention. He sprang up excitedly and scrambled forward to ftxaniine it. It was lead ore. mixed with spar. Zeb kad no doubt about that, for ho had seen the ore raanv a timo down at tho mine an th« other side of the mountaia. There WO3 a good deal of it lying about, Borne of the pieces on the ground being very rich In metal. Zeb picked up oue ot them — th« best ho could find — and, with tottorimr legs, staggered out again into the bright sunllgnt. He wa3 overwhelmed by his discovery, for it promised him all that hia heart desired— umion wiflr^B girl he loTed above the whole world. Hero, ready to hia haud, was untold wealth. True, it was upon laad belonging to John Scnogles, but that was of no consequence. For the Manjc law differs from the English law in this— that, while the landlord in England is supposed to own a solid wedge of th« earth, right through to its centre, in the Isle of Man he owns only the surface, all below belonging to the Crown, from whom mining leases may be acquired by anybody who wishes to do so, and ia prepared to compensate the landlord for " surface damage." Zfib, therefore, thought ho saw his way plain before him. But, first of all, bomg a cautious young man, he carried his specimen of ore down to Nat Teare, a friend of his, who was employed in tho mine on tho other side of the mountaia. *' Hist, Nat !•' said he, when he had dragged off his fiiend to a qniet corner. " What's thisP" " Lead «re, M answered Nat. " You are sure, boy ?" Zeb's questions were bo peculiar, and hia manner was so excited, that Nat looked at him with amusement. "What joke is this, Zeb ?" he asked. "Do you think I'm such a fool as not to know our own ore?" And he pointed at the ground around, which was strewn with pieces of similar ore. "But its' not your ore," cried Zeb. "It's mine. It comes out of my mine. And you shall be tho captain of it, and we shall both make our fortunes, and marry fcha girls of our choice, and be happy ever after, Nat. What do you say to that, my boy ?" Nat took off hia hat and scratched his head. Ho had begun to think that Zeb, in Bpite of hia Itechabite notions, had taken to drinking. But, after a time, the whole thing was made clear to him. He examined the ore again, and pro» nounced it to be equal to the beat they had got. Finally, though he was not told tho exact position where it had been found, he expressed the opinion that it probably came from another part of the same lode as they were now working. Zeb had risen in his estimation immensely. "I'm your friend, Zeb," said he, warmly. "Don't you forget that. Sti^k to me, and I'll make a fortune for you." . Under the circumstances it is not surprising that Zeb went with a very preoccupied mind the next day to the littlo Primitive Methodist chapel. Indeed, his utterances were so confused and so disjointed aB to disturb the faith of those who looked up. to him for light and guidance. As bad luck woaid have it, he had announced tho subject of his sermon em the prenous Sunday. It was " Tho Blessings of Poverty;" andevery argument that he had to enforce was in direct conflict wtth his present opinions. Nor was thia tho aole cause of his uneasiness. For, although the quarrel with John Senogle3 had ceased to worry him, and had almost entirely passed from his mind, he waa distracted by fears lest somebody else should make the same discovery as himself and should anticipate him. He felt that until he had the lease safe in hi» possesslou he should have no rest. So, early on Monday morning, he took with him all the sparo cash in the house, and going first to tho local bank, obtained an advance upon the security of hia shop. With thia money in his possession ho hurried off to Douglas, called at the office of the "Crown Receiver " and applied for a mining lease to cover tho whole oi the north Bide of the mountain. To meet any claim for surface damage, he deposited the money ho had brought with him. His disappointment waa intense when ke learned that the business could not bo completed there and.then as he had expeoted. Itwas torture to him to have to wait, dreading some accident, 'some horrible mischance, which might destroy all 1113 hopes of happiness. But the period of suspense came to an end at last. Zeb got his lease, and with it in his pocket, felt himself to be the happiest and luckiest fellow in the world. The news soon got abroad, and caused much commotion in tho glen. Zeb became quite a hero. His arm waa nearly shaken off, bo liearty were tho greetings ho got ; if ho had not been a Itechabite, all the resouroes of the inn would have been freely placed at his disposal ; there was observable a very genoral disposition to bo seen in his company, to laugh at his jokes, and to quoie-hia sayings : he was run after, not only by Primitives and Wesleyans, but also by Church people, and it would be hard to say which had tho keenest eye to the main chance. Only tho old miller held aloof, shaking his head rathor doubtfully, and watching to sec how Zob would take his good fortune. " The lad doesn't coinn near us now," said ho to his daughter. "Is he puffed up with pride, do thee think, gel ? Maybo it's only offendod with my plain language he is ; but I've no faith in them Primitives, though I will allow that Zeb's tho boat of the lot." Brada defended Zeb stoutly ; but her task grow harder as tirao went on. He woa ao occupied with his new business that he and sh» never happened to meet, and she could not understand his continued absence from the mill. Surely it could not bo that littlo tiff thoy had, when lost they met. That would be too ridiculous, for thoy had had many a tiff before, and Zeb had always como round in lho end. Tho fact of Ihe matter was, Zeb was keeping away until ho had something tangible to offer. ! The mining lease, in itself, was valueless; ho had first to turn it into money. And, having no experionce in such mutters, and nocapitul to I work the mine himself, he was a good deal I bothered. lie had other difficulties to contend against, 1 too, among thorn being .the animosity of John ■ Senogleß, who was perfectly furious. Meeting I y,eb in tho village ono afternoon, he sworo at him in a voice that echoed u way up tha glen, and called him tho lowest, meanest sneak that > ever wall c<l on shoo leather " Whnt did you cay to me?" he shouted. 1 "'Don't you interfere wiili 11:0, and I won't interfere with you.' that was what you Eiiid, I Zebetlinh Quirl:. And then what did you do? 1 Went straight up to my farm and got a mining . lease to turn th« place upside down, so that no decent man will ho üblo to Hvo in it. That's t what you done— robbed mo, you preaching little hypocrite. Weut behind my kick and 1 robbed mo of toy rights— that's what you (lore, you who said you wouldn't interfere with me.

Curse you, I've a mind to break overy bone in your body!" And the big haud Wi9 clinched and raised threateningly But Zeb, so defiant when all things had been going against him, wus meek enough now in the hour of his good fortune. He answered gently. " D.,n't be angry with me, Seuoglea. I have done nothing a man need bo ashamed of. I have acted strictly within my rights— any ofcker would have done the same— but I will go beyond my rights, if you will let me. If the mine turns out a success, you shall have a share in it, I promise you that." "If the inino turns out a sucoqss!" sneored Senogieo, "A likely tale* There is aot a ha'porth of load on the whole *f my farm, and you knew it." " There ia," said Zeb, quietly. "There are heaps and heaps of splendid ore." "That's a lie |? n roared Sen«gle3. "Look here, lads," added ho to the fishermen, whom the noise had drawn around, *' don't one ef you put a. farthing iv this swindle. Don't I know my own land r The whole thing is just to spite me. He wants t« drive me out of my farm» I tell you there is not a ha'porth. of lead uron it." "Then what is thU'r" demanded Zob, ducing one of his specimens. " Ore frem the other side of the mountain. The whole thing in a plant, lais," said Senogles, again appealing t» tke spectator?. ' ' If this »re was fouad on this side of tke mountain, it wa3 biomght frem the other. There's none of it upon my farm at all. Now, do you see what the hypocritical little rascal has been at ?" The fishermen looked at «ne another out of the corners »f their eyes* They ceuld not bring theaisfelves to believe- tfcta oWge asotast Zek; and yet Sonogles sp»ke so positively. But •■« «f thorn, more •utspokeu than the rest, said : " Afsy, man, aisv. Thy tongue's goin' too fass. Zeb's not tke sort to ao this thing at all." By the stream wkick ran by the roadßido, Mr. Johnson— the smart stranger staying at the inn— had been standing, watching tke bees !in a cottage gardes. Altkougk he had shown no Merest in wkat was feeing said, not a word had escaped him. And now he approached tho party rather hurriedly. " Come, Mr. Senoglos," said he, taking the big farmer by the arm, "yea have gone too far. You »wn tho surface »f y»ur land, asd know all ab»ut it. I am sure. But you do»'C know — you can't kasw — what lies beneath. If Mr. Quirk says ke has found lead there, y«umust believe aim." '• Must I !" exclaimed Sentglea, ■with spmetainglike amazement. " Why, ye 3, of course," declared Mr. Johnson ia his off-hand manner. And the fishermen allßtared with open mouths, wondering who this stranger could be, for .they had never befove seen tho big farmer leok so small. "Como, ray. good fellow, you eau't dewy fh<3 evidence of your own eyes." " Well, I'll bo shot !" stammered Seuogles, with the samenir ©f complete bewilderment. "I'll gunrautco the genulneaoss of this ore." proceeded Mr. Johnson, in a ten« which could bo heard by all urouad. "If there is a good lode of tko samo quality where it came from it Will be worth £25 a fathom, at tho rery least. You may take my word for that, Mr. Quirk, lam a mining *en£in eßr " — he glanced round witk importance — " I have had great oxpertence in mauy^ parts of the world, ami I know what I am talking about." This speech created an evident sensation. Senogles, who had moved off and was wailing nbout for Sir. Johnston to follow, did not hear tfee latter part of it, but tho fishermen were profoundrdly impresaed. As for Zeb, now that hifi hopes had been confirmed by so eminent an authority, he could scarcely contain himseli. He thought of Brada, atid tears cawo into his eyes ; he graspod Mr. Johnson's haud, but could not sneak. " Will you bo at home at seven this evening, Mr. Quirk ?" inquired Mr. Johnson in an undertone. " I have something particular to say to you. At se\ en sharp, remember. " And he went after John Senogles. (TO BE CON'TIHCED.)