Barker's Luck Page #2

"Barker's Luck" is a short story by Bret Harte, set in the American West during the Gold Rush era. The narrative follows the character of Jim Barker, a down-and-out miner who experiences a series of misadventures while trying to strike it rich. With Harte's signature blend of humor and poignant insights into human nature, the story explores themes of luck, perseverance, and the complexities of fortune. As Barker navigates the challenges of life in a boomtown, he ultimately learns important lessons about failure, friendship, and the unpredictable nature of luck.

• Short story

								

valise.

"TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS!" repeated Stacy. "When did YOU have two thousand
dollars?"

"When I first left Sacramento--three years ago," said Barker,
unstrapping the valise.

"How long did you have it?" said Demorest incredulously.

"At least two days, I think," returned Barker quietly. "Then I met that
man. He was hard-up, and I lent him my pile and took those shares. He
died afterward."

"Of course he did," said Demorest severely. "They always do. Nothing
kills a man more quickly than an action of that kind." Nevertheless
the two partners regarded Barker rummaging among some loose clothes
and papers with a kind of paternal toleration. "If you can't find them,
bring out your government bonds," suggested Stacy. But the next moment,
flushed and triumphant, Barker rose from his knees, and came toward them
carrying some papers in his hands. Demorest seized them from him, opened
them, spread them on the table, examined hurriedly the date, signatures,
and transfers, glanced again quickly at the newspaper paragraph, looked
wildly at Stacy and then at Barker, and gasped:

"By the living hookey! it is SO!"

"B'gosh! he HAS got 'em!" echoed Stacy.

"Twenty shares," continued Demorest breathlessly, "at ten thousand
dollars a share--even if it's only a foot--is two hundred thousand
dollars! Jerusalem!"

"Tell me, fair sir," said Stacy, with sparkling eyes, "hast still left
in yonder casket any rare jewels, rubies, sarcenet, or links of fine
gold? Peradventure a pearl or two may have been overlooked!"

"No--that's all," returned Barker simply.

"You hear him! Rothschild says 'that's all.' Prince Esterhazy says he
hasn't another red cent--only two hundred thousand dollars."

"What ought I to do, boys?" asked Barker, timidly glancing from one to
the other. Yet he remembered with delight all that day, and for many
a year afterward, that he saw in their faces only unselfish joy and
affection at that supreme moment.

"Do?" said Demorest promptly. "Stand on your head and yell! No! stop!
Come here!" He seized both Barker and Stacy by the hand, and ran out
into the open air. Here they danced violently with clasped hands around
a small buckeye, in perfect silence, and then returned to the cabin,
grave but perspiring.

"Of course," said Barker, wiping his forehead, "we'll just get some
money on these certificates and buy up that next claim which belongs to
old Carter--where you know we thought we saw the indication."

"We'll do nothing of the kind," said Demorest decidedly. "WE ain't in
it. That money is yours, old chap--every cent of it--property acquired
before marriage, you know; and the only thing we'll do is to be damned
before we'll see you drop a dime of it into this Godforsaken hole. No!"

"But we're partners," gasped Barker.

"Not in THIS! The utmost we can do for you, opulent sir--though it ill
becomes us horny-handed sons of toil to rub shoulders with Dives--is
perchance to dine with you, to take a pasty and a glass of Malvoisie, at
some restaurant in Sacramento--when you've got things fixed, in honor of
your return to affluence. But more would ill become us!"

"But what are YOU going to do?" said Barker, with a half-hysteric,
half-frightened smile.

"We have not yet looked through our luggage," said Demorest with
invincible gravity, "and there's a secret recess--a double FOND--to my
portmanteau, known only to a trusty page, which has not been disturbed
since I left my ancestral home in Faginia. There may be a few First
Debentures of Erie or what not still there."

"I felt some strange, disklike protuberances in my dress suit the other
day, but belike they are but poker chips," said Stacy thoughtfully.

An uneasy feeling crept over Barker. The color which had left his fresh
cheek returned to it quickly, and he turned his eyes away. Yet he had
seen nothing in his companions' eyes but affection--with even a certain
kind of tender commiseration that deepened his uneasiness. "I suppose,"
he said desperately, after a pause, "I ought to go over to Boomville and
make some inquiries."

"At the bank, old chap; at the bank!" said Demorest emphatically. "Take
my advice and don't go ANYWHERE ELSE. Don't breathe a word of your luck
to anybody. And don't, whatever you do, be tempted to sell just now; you
don't know how high that stock's going to jump yet."

"I thought," stammered Barker, "that you boys might like to go over with
me."

"We can't afford to take another holiday on grub wages, and we're only
two to work today," said Demorest, with a slight increase of color and
the faintest tremor in his voice. "And it won't do, old chap, for us to
be seen bumming round with you on the heels of your good fortune. For
everybody knows we're poor, and sooner or later everybody'll know you
WERE rich even when you first came to us."

"Nonsense!" said Barker indignantly.

"Gospel, my boy!" said Demorest shortly.

"The frozen truth, old man!" said Stacy.

Barker took up his hat with some stiffness and moved toward the door.
Here he stopped irresolutely, an irresolution that seemed to communicate
itself to his partners. There was a moment's awkward silence. Then
Demorest suddenly seized him by the shoulders with a grip that was
half a caress, and walked him rapidly to the door. "And now don't stand
foolin' with us, Barker boy; but just trot off like a little man, and
get your grip on that fortune; and when you've got your hooks in it hang
on like grim death. You'll"--he hesitated for an instant only, possibly
to find the laugh that should have accompanied his speech--"you're sure
to find US here when you get back."

Hurt to the quick, but restraining his feelings, Barker clapped his hat
on his head and walked quickly away. The two partners stood watching him
in silence until his figure was lost in the underbrush. Then they spoke.

"Like him--wasn't it?" said Demorest.

"Just him all over," said Stacy.

"Think of him having that stock stowed away all these years and never
even bothering his dear old head about it!"

"And think of his wanting to put the whole thing into this rotten
hillside with us!"

"And he'd have done it, by gosh! and never thought of it again. That's
Barker."

"Dear old man!"

"Good old chap!"

"I've been wondering if one of us oughtn't to have gone with him? He's
just as likely to pour his money into the first lap that opens for it,"
said Stacy.

"The more reason why we shouldn't prevent him, or seem to prevent him,"
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