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"His career as a partisan," says his faithful biographer, the novelist Simms, "in the thickets and swamps of Carolina, is abundantly distinguished by the picturesque; but it was while he held his camp at Snow's Island that it received its highest colors of romance.
Then in as few words as possible, the boys were told all about the land-slide on Grizzly that had, most likely, buried Choko's Find under tons and tons of débris maybe, hid it completely again for all time. They sat in Simms' office talking over the plans for the morrow when a large party was to go up Top Notch.
You did perfectly right in coming to me quickly. My foreman is in town to-day. He will be in shortly and I think he will know of some one who will answer your purpose. I wish you had ridden to my ranch, however. It would have been much nearer." "I didn't know where it was." "Of course not." "While waiting for the foreman, tell me about how it all happened?" urged Mr. Simms.
It was all we could do to keep along then; and if anybody was called rich, it was only because he had a great sight of land, and then it was drudge, drudge the harder to pay the taxes. There was hardly any ready money; and I recollect well that old Tommy Simms was reputed wealthy, and it was told over fifty times a year that he'd got a solid four thousand dollars in the bank.
Moreover, some of my best lives and trials which I had corrected and edited with particular care, and on which I prided myself no little, he caused to be cancelled after they had passed through the press. Amongst these was the life of 'Gentleman Harry. 'They are drugs, sir, said the publisher, 'drugs; that life of Harry Simms has long been the greatest drug in the calendar has it not, Taggart?
Then he laughed softly. "We may be able to bring him round, all right again, who knows?" he said. Rainey went on deck, raging but impotent. He told Lund briefly of the talk between him and Peggy Simms, and described the general symptoms of the skipper's strange malady. It was nine o'clock, an hour to the meeting.
By this time the house had been opened and aired, Norah had come from where she had been staying all summer, and so had Jerry Simms, so the Bunkers were really at home again. Grandpa Ford had been shown to his room, and was getting washed and brushed up ready for tea.
He fell asleep without realizing it, and was waked by the sound of voices all about him. It was morning again, and Johnny Simms was shouting boyishly at something he saw outside. "Get at it, boy!" he cried enthusiastically. "Grab him! That's the way " Cochrane opened his eyes. Johnny Simms gazed out and down from a blister-port, waving his arms.
The one restraint was as irksome as the other, and Harry Simms abandoned the needle, as he had scorned the grammar, to go upon the pad. Though his early companions were scragged at Tyburn, the light-fingered rascal was indifferent to their fate, and squandering such booty as fell to his share, he bravely 'turned out' for more.
Simms had become interested in each other and already were looking forward to the next few days on the range together, with keen pleasure. The start was made shortly after three o'clock, the party reaching their destination well before sundown. The Pony Riders uttered a shout as they descried the white canvas top of the chuck wagon. It was a familiar sight to them.
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