Page 2 of A Joyful Ring
Resigned to trudging onward because it was too late in the day to start out for Baker City, Gunder strolled down the hill. He had a little money left from his journey, but wasn’t sure he wanted to spend it on a room, even if a hotel or boardinghouse existed in the primitive community.
As he drew nearer, a large hand-painted sign fastened to a tall post read “Welcome to Lovely.”
At least he hadn’t gotten lost on his way here.
Disappointment rolled over Gunder as he made his way onto the town’s only street, if it could be called such. He stood looking at the mine to his right and the tents to his left. Perhaps landing a job should be his first matter of business.
He turned and headed toward the mine. The closer he got, the louder the noise grew. He started up what appeared to be a hundred steps of the building that towered into the sky from the base of the hill. Halfway up, letters painted on a door indicated the office. Gunder took a moment to brush at the dust coating him from head to foot, slap it off his hat, and wipe his face on a handkerchief that was already so wet and dirty he doubted it did a lick of good.
With a fortifying breath, he pushed open the door and stepped into a room that held a stove for heat, a wide desk with a chair on each side of it, and maps tacked to the walls between the windows that offered views in three directions. A long table held more maps and lumps of what he assumed had to be ore.
A middle-aged man with beefy arms and a long scar that ran from the corner of his eye down to his chin lifted his head and glanced up from his bent-over position at the table where he was studying a map. Although he was several inches shorter than Gunder, the stocky man appeared as though he was someone who could hold his own in a fight.
“Can I help you, stranger?” the man asked in a voice that was just short of friendly.
Gunder held his hat in his hand and nodded politely. “I want to inquire about a job, sir.”
“You new in town?” the man asked, turning so he leaned against the table.
Gunder nodded. “Yes, sir. Just walked into town a few moments ago. I’m Gunder Birke.” He stepped forward with his hand extended in greeting.
“Robert Goodwin, manager of the mine,” the man said, shaking Gunder’s hand in a grip that was firm, but not uncomfortably so. “Where are you from, son?”
“Pittsburgh.”
Mr. Goodwin grinned as his bushy black eyebrows hiked upward. “Pittsburgh? As in Pennsylvania?”
Gunder nodded. “That’s right. Born and raised there.”
“What did you do for work?” Mr. Goodwin asked, crossing his ankles and studying Gunder.
“I was employed at a livery for eight years. I have a letter from Mr. Adamson, my employer, if you’d like to read it.”
“I would, but first tell me why you came to Lovely, and what makes you want to work at the Juniper Point Mine?”
Gunder swung the pack off his back and set it by his feet. “I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life working at the livery, not that I don’t love working with horses. Mr. Adamson was a fair and good employer, far better than most. But I want more for my life, and I didn’t see any opportunities to pursue back home. When I came across an advertisement for Lovely, it stirred my sense of adventure. I don’t know a thing about mining, sir, but I am a fast learner and a hard worker.”
“Well, that’s good, because you’ll need to be both of those things if you work here.” Mr. Goodwin held out his hand. “Let’s see that letter you mentioned.”
Gunder took out the letter, which was tuckedinto an envelope that looked the worse for wear after his journey across the country by train, then stage, and on foot when he decided the stage fare was far more costly than he’d anticipated. Charlie had found him walking along the road and had taken pity on him, giving him a ride on the last leg of the journey.
Mr. Goodwin read the letter, folded it, and handed it back to Gunder. “Do you have a horse and wagon with you?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Goodwin’s eyebrows raised again, looking like caterpillars inching upward. “How in tarnation did you get here?”
“I took the train as far as I could into Utah, then the stage into Idaho. I started walking when I feared running short of funds, and a freight wagon driver gave me a ride as far as the fork in the road a few miles back. He was headed to Baker City. Is it really only ten miles from here?”
“Yep. It is.” Mr. Goodwin nodded for emphasis, then pointed toward the window that faced the road. “Six days a week, we run wagons back and forth to Baker City, hauling out what the mine produces and hauling back supplies. Do you think you could handle a freight wagon?”
Gunder shrugged and hefted his pack to his shoulder. “Charlie let me drive his quite a bit. I didn’t have any trouble, but I’ve never driven a wagon that big in a busy city. I have driven carriages and small wagons around Pittsburgh, but that’s different than a freight wagon.”
Another nod from Mr. Goodwin. “Mr.Adamson seemed to think you were a fair hand with horses. Tell you what we’ll do. I’m short a freighter and need someone dependable, and nobody here at the mine seems interested in the job. Tomorrow, I’ll have you ride with Lars Hoffman, one of the freighters, just to get a feel for things. If Lars has good things to say and you think you can do the work, we’ll talk about making you the newest Juniper Point Mine freighter. If you decide this isn’t what you want to do, or Lars doesn’t think you can handle the work, he’ll leave you in Baker City, and we’ll call it even. Does that sound fair?”
“Yes, sir. More than fair.” Gunder shook Mr. Goodwin’s hand again. “Is there somewhere in town I can stay the night?”
Mr. Goodwin walked with him outside and pointed to the rows of tents in the distance. “Most of our miners live in those tents. It’s not bad in the spring or fall, but in the summer, you feel like you’re about to bake, or freeze to death in the winter. The last one to the far left is empty. You can stay there tonight if you like.”
