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Golden Chimney: A Boy's Mine

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[Pg 78] <h2>CHAPTER VI THE MULE AUCTION</h2> “A mule is very much like a horse, isn’t it?” Ben questioned, on the following morning. “Yes; they are somewhat similar,” Mundon replied, going on with the task of untangling some old harness. “Yet they’re different, too.” “That’s so; they are.” Ben did not like to admit his ignorance, but he very much desired some further information on the subject of mules before he entered the arena of the auction. He had a guilty consciousness that he had made Mundon feel that he resented his superior wisdom in many things connected with their undertaking, and that he was unreasonably jealous of his worldly knowledge. He regretted and was ashamed[Pg 79] of his ingratitude toward this man who had proved invaluable to him, and he hoped that the other would overlook it. “If you were going to buy a horse, Mundon, what particular points would you look for in the animal?” “Well, I’d see that he had a broad forehead, good straight, clean legs, round hoofs, small ears, clear eyes, and, most of all, a wide chest. But, of course, these don’t hold good in a mule.” “No; I suppose not.” “Then, he oughter be in good perportion. I’ve seen horses with a fine-lookin’ front and a back all shrunk up. And I’ve seen some with a fine back and a front that had a stunted look. An animal like that ain’t apt to have much strength or wearin’ qualities. Then, there’s exceptions. I remember one of the best horses for pullin’ I ever saw had a sort of stunted front. But, of course, none of these things hold good in a mule.” [Pg 80] “No; nothing seems to apply to a mule.” Ben picked up a strap which dangled from the harness and began untangling it. “Haven’t the teeth something to do with it?” “Sure! They’re the most important point, ’cause that’s the way you kin tell a horse’s age—by his teeth. If they’re long, he’s old. You want to see that they ain’t ben filed, too.” “Do you think the point about the teeth would apply to a mule?” Ben asked. “There ain’t nothin’ that applies to a mule except—patience. You’ve got to have everlastin’ patience when you come near a mule. But, they’re knowin’. Lordy! I’ve had ’em teamin’ up in the mountains when they knew a sight more’n most men. I’d talk to ’em just like they was humans. ‘Sal,’ I’d say, ‘don’t you know better’n to hug so close to that bank?’ And before the words was out of my mouth,[Pg 81] Sal would be a-standin’ way off from the bank. And all I had to do to git one of ’em over the chain,—there’s a chain runs between ’em in place of a pole, you know, and mebbe I’d have sixteen or twenty strung along in pairs,—and if I wanted to git one of ’em over it I’d jest call out the name, and that mule would jump the chain quick as lightnin’. A horse has got a heap of sense, but, in my opinion, a mule kin discount him every time.” “We’re safer, then, in buying a mule than a horse?” “Law, yes! For the work you want done, you are.” “Well, I’ll be going along, I guess,” remarked Ben. “I want to look over the field before the sale begins.” “That’d be a good idee.” Ben boarded an electric car which crossed the city. He was dubious as to his ability for the task he had undertaken, and regretted that he had not[Pg 82] asked Mundon to go in his place. He ran over the directions for buying a horse. “Round-hoofed, small-eared, broad-headed, clear-eyed, short-teethed, clean-legged, wide-chested, and good-proportioned,” he enumerated. “I’m primed for a horse-sale, if I ever need to go to one; but I’m all at sea about a mule.” Mundon had seemed to be singularly averse to offering to make the purchase, Ben reflected, although he had been given ample opportunity to do so, and he was so well qualified to select exactly the animal needed. He had appeared anxious to get Ben out of the way. Could it be possible that he meant to make the attempt to get the rope over the top of the chimney during his absence? How would he manage it? It seemed a colossal, impossible task. The car clanged its bell along Kearny Street, whizzed across Market and[Pg 83] swung into Third Street, on its way to the Potrero. A wild idea occurred to Ben. “If there’s a mule in the inclosure that points his ears at me, I’ll buy him,” he decided. Association with his father had implanted superstition in the boy’s character. Ben had seen it sway his father many times, as indeed it exerted an influence more or less potent upon all miners. A recollection of the sum he had resolved to expend reminded Ben that the occult must be confined within the limits of fifteen dollars. “I don’t know the first thing about it, anyway, and I might as well be guided by chance as anything else,” he reflected. He was a trifle ashamed of this decision, and half hoped that the mules themselves would render its execution impossible, by all laying back or all pointing their ears in unison. [Pg 84] When he entered the gate of the vacant lot where the sale was to be held, a rough-haired, forlorn-looking specimen of a mule raised two weather-beaten ears and disconsolately surveyed him. “That settles it,” said Ben to himself. “After all it’s something to have the matter decided for one.” The man in charge was anxious to show Ben the superior animals within the inclosure; but he manifested so little interest in them that their owner began to have doubts as to his being a bona fide purchaser. “Like as not the rest will all go above my price,” thought Ben; “but I think I can get ‘Despair’—” for so he had designated the mule he had settled upon—“for fifteen.” It was a long wait, and Ben was anxious to return to the Works; but the owner seemed to be in no hurry to begin, and, evidently, was waiting for a larger audience. [Pg 85] When a dozen or more men had arrived, the sale was opened. It was confusing, the way in which the auctioneer rattled on, discovering invisible buyers in corners and on the outskirts of the crowd. Ben wondered how he should be able to keep his head when his time should come; and he realized that this thought made his heart beat rapidly. He witnessed some close buying that was bewildering to the inexperienced, and he saw one man badly kicked by the glossiest, plumpest mule in the lot. “Another mark in favor of ‘Despair,’” Ben noted. “You can’t tell anything by looks; but I don’t believe he’d do that.” It was late in the afternoon before the mule which Ben had selected—or, rather, the mule which had selected Ben—was offered. “We’ll start him at— What’ll we start him at, gentlemen?” [Pg 86] “Five dollars,” said a voice. “Five dollars!” The auctioneer scornfully repeated. “Somebody here expects to get a good workin’ animal for nothing just because his coat’s a little rough. Five dollars would be just a-givin’ him away. Why, all he needs to be a playmate for the children is a clippin’ and a red ribbon tied round his tail. What am I bid, bid, bid—what am I bid? Ten dollars, young man, did you say?” He pointed to Ben, and the latter nodded. “Here’s a young gentleman who knows a good animal for the saddle when he sees one.” This sally brought a laugh from the crowd and added to Ben’s discomfiture. “Ten dollars! Who’ll raise the bid? Twelve?” He pointed to a man on the edge of the group. “Who’ll give me twelve dollars for this reliable mule? Twelve dollars?” “Fifteen,” said Ben. [Pg 87] A smile rippled over the faces of the crowd, and Ben became painfully conscious that he had made an error. He could feel his face growing uncomfortably warm. “Fifteen dollars!” called the auctioneer. “Will no one raise it? Is there no one here wants this mule more than this young gentleman? Fifteen once—fifteen twice—fifteen three times, and sold to—”—he turned expectantly toward Ben,—“Mr.—” “Ralston,” said Ben. The money was paid, and Ben started for the Works with his purchase. “You must hev wanted that mule powerful bad, young feller,” a bystander remarked, as the pair issued from the gate. “Think so?” the boy replied, anxious to make his escape. “Yes—it rather looks as though you did. To wait till the last and worst-lookin’ mule in the bunch was[Pg 88] offered,” the man continued, “and then to raise your own bid twice.” There was a laugh from the crowd. “You could hev got him for twelve dollars, sure, and you might hev got him for ten.” “Well, that’s my affair,” Ben retorted. He led the mule along a street in the direction of the city, not without a misgiving, however, as to the docility of the animal. A fear that he might balk or suddenly whirl and kick, to the amusement of the spectators, made Ben eager to increase the distance between the mule-market and himself. It was a long distance from the Potrero to North Beach, for they marked opposite boundaries of the city, and Ben had ample opportunity for reflection. He made a detour and skirted the sea-wall, in order to avoid the more crowded streets. As he trudged along, the mule seemed docile and easily led;[Pg 89] but Ben bought some carrots from a passing vegetable-wagon, to make assurance doubly sure. He regretted that he had yielded to the impulse of trusting to chance. He was conscious that the act was unworthy and degrading, that he had taken a step backward. “If I’m going to act in that fool way,” he said to himself, “there’s no telling where I’ll land. It’s as bad as the things Tom Sawyer did,—worse, because he didn’t trust an important piece of business to black art. It’s just the kind of thing that the lowest order of a negro would be capable of. But no one knows it,” he added with emphasis, “nor ever shall. ‘Despair’ and I can keep the secret. That name won’t do—it might hoodoo the scheme.” He turned and reflectively surveyed the mule. “You’ve got to have a name that’s a winner. A cheerful, humming, booming sort of a name,” he said. [Pg 90] As if in reply, the animal raised his long ears and pointed them at his interlocutor. When they reached Montgomery Avenue, where Mr. Hodges’ shop was situated, Ben pulled his hat over his eyes. He endeavored to hasten the pace of the mule. In this he was unsuccessful, but, fortunately, there was no one in sight whom he knew. “If I were sure of success I wouldn’t mind the whole town’s seeing every move I make,” the boy reflected. “But it makes a heap of difference in people’s opinions whether you succeed or not. If you don’t, then, you’re looked upon as a fool, and everything you’ve done is fool-business; but if you do, then, you’re called wise, and everything you’ve done is smart as lightning.” They reached the slight rise and began to descend toward the bay. Outlined against the vista of the blue water washing the base of the Sausalito hills, rose the massive pillar of the chimney. [Pg 91] Ben paused an instant in amazement. Mundon had been true to his word; for reaching from the top to the bottom was a cable that looked the thickness of a thread against the solid round bulk of the chimney. Ben could hardly believe his eyes. How had it been accomplished? He was obliged to control his impatience until the mule’s deliberate gait brought them at length to the Works. “Mundon, where are you!” Ben called as he dashed into the building. “Ahoy there!” A voice replied from the flue. Peering up the mouth, Ben saw Mundon on a cross-piece which was fastened by two lines to the main rope, after the manner of a trapeze. “I’ll do the chippin’,” Mundon remarked from his perch, about twenty feet from the ground. “Take your head away a minute and we’ll drive the first blow.” [Pg 92] Ben retreated and Mundon struck the chisel he held a blow that sent down a shower of soot, broken brick, and mortar. “We’ll soon know now,” Ben said to himself, and his heart beat rapidly, when he thought of all it meant to him. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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