The door opened again, and Frank returned, carrying a stack of papers. “Your father had interests in a number of mines. I grubstaked him on a few of his projects.”
It didn’t seem very pastorly for a man of God to give out money for prospecting. “Why?”
He smiled, again reminding Joseph of Annabelle. “Because a man has a certain level of pride. It’s easier to ask for money if you think you’re giving someone something in return. So I give the miners what they need, and they give me a ten percent ownership in their mines. It eases their pride knowing that they’re not taking a handout.”
Frank’s grin turned a bit mischievous. “I’ve never had a single mine pan out, but boy, wouldn’t that be something.”
“It sounds like gambling.” On one hand, it was nice that the preacher was willing to give money to miners in need, but how was he helping those men? How many of the men taking money from the preacher had families back home who could’ve used that money?
“Now you sound like my daughter.” Frank sat back in his chair. “I see it as an investment in these men’s dreams. When I was a boy, I wanted nothing more than to be a preacher. But my family came from money, and such things weren’t done. So I followed their plan and found myself rich and miserable. When I told my wife I was leaving the family firm to become a preacher, she asked me what had taken so long.”
The peace flitting across Frank’s face stirred envy unlike any Joseph had ever experienced. What would it be like to give everything up to follow your dreams? Of course, it had been so long since Joseph had dared dream anything, he wasn’t sure what that would be.
“So here I am, spreading God’s word in an ungodly town. And if I find a man whose dreams I can encourage, I do. I call it an investment. I suppose the difference between my investments and gambling is that I don’t expect a return. At least not here on earth.”
So nonchalant about being able to give it all away. “Doesn’t the church object to you spending their money on such a foolish endeavor?”
Another grin. “I don’t use the church’s money. The money I invest comes straight out of my personal income. It irks poor Annabelle to no end that I help the miners, but they’ve got to have someone who believes in them.”
Maybe. But he’d have to agree with Annabelle that he’d be better off not funding such schemes. “How much was Pa in to you for?”
Frank chuckled. “Again, it was not a loan. I gave him money freely. But that’s not the right question. The question is, how much will you be able to get from his mines?”
With that, Frank sorted through the papers. “I have here papers for five different mining claims. As far as I know, not one has panned out.” He looked up at Joseph. “However, about a week before he died, your father was anxious about the Mary May. He came to me and asked if I could keep his papers safe.”
“Did someone kill him?”
Frank shrugged. “Hard to tell. He fell down a ravine. Did he fall or was he pushed? No one knows. And no one really cared enough to find out.”
Joseph supposed he should care, but honestly, if his pa wasn’t already dead, he might have to kill him himself. “Why would someone kill him for holdings that aren’t very valuable?”
Frank looked around, slowly. “Every now and again, I’d find bits of silver in the offering. I never knew where they came from. I figured it was a miner’s way of giving back but not wanting to call attention to himself. One day, I noticed your father slipping silver into the offering when he thought no one was looking.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Now I ask you. Why would a man hide having so much silver?”
With what Joseph was learning about his pa, he had a pretty good idea. “So he wouldn’t have to give your share to you? Only he felt guilty about not giving something to the church, so he put in a portion?”
Frank leaned back and gave another shrug. “Or maybe he’d found the big one and was trying to go about securing it before making the big announcement. Like I said, he’d been talking about the Mary May last time I saw him.”
At least his pa had some loyalty, naming the mine after one of the daughters he’d abandoned back home. Not that it would give her any comfort at all.
Joseph riffled through the crumbled, dirty papers. Each of his sisters had a mine named after them. Maybe he’d give each of his siblings the papers to their mines. Probably worthless, but at least something to remember their pa.
“You think I should check out the Mary May?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. He had a cabin up that way. Maybe you’ll find some of his personal belongings or something that can help your quest.”
Joseph sighed. The preacher was right. It wouldn’t hurt. Maybe this cabin would be a safer place to keep Nugget. “I’ll check it out. See if the cabin is livable.”
Frank pointed at the shadows in the window. “Not tonight, you won’t. It’s going to be too dark to head up there now, and having been to the cabin once, I can tell you that Billy did a real nice job of making it hard to find.”
Somehow, his pa’s cleverness at making a hidden cabin didn’t bring the same kind of twinkle to his mind as it did to the preacher’s eyes. Maybe he’d once had that kind of fondness for his pa, but after cleaning up so much of his pa’s mess, he wasn’t so kindly inclined.
“Thank you, Preacher. Would you happen to know of a
