though, ever since your
father left. I got him and asked him to help. And Harry was just the
kind of a fellow that would do it. Out in the dead of night they went
and staked out your father's claim--Harry was to get twenty-five per
cent--and early the next morning your dad was waiting to file on it,
while Harry was waiting for them three. And what a fight it must have
been--that Harry was a wildcat in those younger days." She laughed,
then her voice grew serious. "But all had its effect. Rodaine did n't
jump that claim, and a few of us around here filed dummy claims enough
in the vicinity to keep him off of getting too close--but there was one
way we couldn't stop him. He had power, and he 's always had it--and
he 's got it now. A lot of awful strange things happened to your
father after that--charges were filed against him for things he never
did. Men jumped on him in the dark, then went to the district
attorney's office and accused him of making the attack. And the funny
part was that the district attorney's office always believed them--and
not him. Once they had him just at the edge of the penitentiary, but
I--I happened to know a few things that--well, he did n't go." Again
Mother Howard chuckled, only to grow serious once more. "Those days
were a bit wild in Ohadi--everybody was crazy with the gold or silver
fever; out of their head most of the time. Men who went to work for
your father and Harry disappeared, or got hurt accidentally in the mine
or just quit through the bad name it was getting. Once Harry, coming
down from the tunnel at night, stepped on a little bridge that always
before had been as secure and safe as the hills themselves. It fell
with him--they went down together thirty feet, and there was nothing
but Nature to blame for it, in spite of what we three thought. Then,
at last, they got a fellow who was willing to work for them in spite of
what Rodaine's crowd--and it consisted of everybody in power--hinted
about your father's bad reputation back East and--"

"My father never harmed a soul in his life!" Fairchild's voice was
hot, resentful. Mother Howard went on:

"I know he did n't, Son. I 'm only telling the story. Miners are
superstitious as a general rule, and they 're childish at believing
things. It all worked in your father's case--with the exception of
Harry and 'Sissie' Larsen, a Swede with a high voice, just about like
mine. That's why they gave him the name. Your