Alaska (102 page)

Read Alaska Online

Authors: James A. Michener

BOOK: Alaska
11.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

know all about that. What you do is appoint me receiver, and I watch over the property, as an agent of the government, till you decide later on after formal court cases who really has title.'

Hoxey stressed two facts: 'Speed is essential. New broom and all that. And the receiver must be appointed immediately, so as to protect the property.' Judge Grant said he understood.

Now Hoxey came to the ticklish part: 'One thing I don't like about the Nome situation and you must remember that I know Alaska like the back of my hand is that a bunch of aliens and half-breeds have grabbed up the best claims. Can you imagine a Russian citizen owning a gold mine in America? Or a Lapp, God forbid? Who in hell ever heard of Lapland . . . and their people coming over here and taking up our good claims?

And Norwegians and Swedes aren't much better. You must remember that I come from South Dakota, some of my best friends are Scandinavians, but they have no right coming over here and taking up our best claims.'

'I thought two of them were naturalized citizens?'

'Subterfuge.' With that marvelous word, delivered with a sneer, he settled the goose of the Swedes, and neither man seemed to appreciate that they themselves were engaging in the greatest subterfuge of all.

So it was decided that Judge Grant would do three things immediately upon arrival: outlaw all foreigners, vacate the claims, and appoint Hoxey receiver. He would also make a speech affirming American values and reassuring the men that law and order had come, although belatedly, to Nome. Health law enforcement, land-title paperwork, legal collection of taxes and protection of the public weal would all come later, if ever; the important thing was to outlaw foreigners and clarify the ownership of the gold mines.

'I can see it now,' Hoxey said as he accompanied Judge Grant to the ship's bar. 'That sign over there is prophetic.' It was the crest of the ship done in ornate blue and gold hand-carved letters:

Senator.

In view of the heinous things Judge Grant was about to do, it is proper to ask: How much did he understand of Hoxey's infamous plan? Not much. He never guessed that if he appointed his trusted friend Hoxey to the receivership of the mines, Hoxey would steal every bit of gold being produced and that such theft could quickly run into the millions. Outstanding men in American history had started their careers as small-town judges, but these men had used their time on the bench to hone their perceptions, to differentiate between 618

the motives of good men and evil; each year such judges grew wiser, more judicial, more honest, until in the end they stood forth as some of the finest products of our nation. Judge Grant had had all the opportunities of an Abraham Lincoln or a Thomas Hart Benton, but he had squandered them. He was now prepared to initiate one of the blackest pages of American legal history.

When the Senator

anchored well out in the roadstead, lighters sped out to start the unloading; the first one to arrive was commandeered by Marvin Hoxey on the grounds, which he announced discreetly, 'that Judge Grant must establish his court at the soonest possible, in obedience to personal instructions from the President.' So the eminent jurist and his mentor were ferried toward the shore, but the lighter had such a deep draft that it could not nose into the beach. Important passengers and goods had to be transported that remaining distance on the backs of porters, so now six strong Eskimos, three for Judge Grant, three for Hoxey, hoisted the two men high in the air and carried them ashore.

They were a striking pair as they set foot on the golden beaches: Judge Grant, handsome and severe; Marvin Hoxey, pudgy and red-faced, with that immense walrus mustache and the eyes which took in everything. Holding his cigar in his left hand, he waved it, signaling that it would be proper for the citizens of Nome to applaud the arrival of the judge who was bringing order to their community, and one man started a cheer: 'Hooray for the judge!' and with that cry ringing in his ears, Judge John Marshall Grant strode sedately to chambers in the Golden Gate Hotel.

He had barely supervised the placing of his luggage when he began issuing the sheaf of orders which Hoxey had recommended and sometimes drafted. After vacating the leases and appointing Hoxey receiver to protect their assets, Judge Grant let it be known that henceforth no Swedes, Norwegians, Lapps or Siberians could hold claims and that the ones they currently did hold illegally must be turned over to the receiver. By nightfall of that first cyclonic day Marvin Hoxey controlled claims One through Eleven Above,

with a combined capacity of producing nearly forty thousand dollars a month.

NO SOONER HAD JUDGE GRANT VACATED CLAIMS ONE

through Eleven Above

on his first day in Nome than he did one other thing that would have equally heavy consequences. Taking from his pocket a memorandum handed him by Malcolm Ross before the

Senator sailed from Seattle, he read: 619

'When hiring staff in Nome, consult with our R&R

man, Tom Venn, who will know the abilities of everyone.' Calling for Hoxey, he said: 'Can you get this fellow Venn to come to my quarters?' and very soon Tom reported to the Golden Gate Hotel.

'Judge Grant? I'm Tom Venn, Your Honor. Just got a note from Mr. Ross instructing me to find you a secretary. I've brought along the only candidate I think you'd be interested in, sir. She's waiting downstairs.'

'I'd like to see her,' and in this way Melissa Peckham, twenty-five years old, met Judge Grant.

'What's your name?' When she said 'Missy Peckham,' he scowled: 'Now what kind of name is that?' and when she said: 'It's really Melissa,' he said: 'That's better.

A proper girl needs a proper name, especially if she's going to work for me.'

Judge Grant hired Missy to begin immediately, and Matt, again on Tom's recommendation, was hired by Hoxey to act as caretaker of the vacated claims. From her experience in Dawson and on the Eldorado ridge, Missy knew a good deal about mining, much more than Judge Grant, and she was so bothered by some of his early decisions that she began taking careful and secret notes of what was transpiring in this ugly business of depriving the discoverers of a field of their just property: Thursday 25 July. In the first batch of decisions the Siberian Arkikov, no first name, lost his claim to Seven Above on Anvil Creek. He is believed to be one of the discoverers.

Friday 26 July. The Norwegian Lars Skjellerup notified that as a foreigner he cannot hold a claim on Anvil Creek, even though he is known to have been the organizer of the mining district.

Working late into the night to record the judgments of each day, Missy frequently heard, through the thin makeshift wall separating the judge's chambers from her desk, Hoxey discussing plans with Judge Grant. She discussed this growing pattern with Murphy, who said without reflection: 'I think this man Hoxey, he's mighty near a criminal. Keep an eye on him,' and now Missy inscribed in her small book not only what she thought the judge was doing but Murphy's suspicions as well, and the result was a document so devastating that Murphy told her one night: 'You better hide that,'

and she did.

The impact of Judge Grant and Hoxey on Nome was so 620

shocking that some miners who had been deprived of their rights spoke of lynching, but Lars Skjellerup, who had lost more than most, counseled restraint: 'Things like this won't be allowed in a free country. There must be something legal we can do to unmask these men.'

There was nothing. Clothed in the dignity of a law which local people had not called into being and supported by the might of a great but remote nation, Judge Grant and Hoxey were free to do as they wished, and now that the mines were working smoothly under their receivership, Hoxey was shipping out of Alaska more than two hundred thousand dollars a month.

When Skjellerup questioned this, he was told by Judge Grant: 'Mr. Hoxey is the legal receiver. That means he is to manage the mines as he sees fit until such time as the case against you is legally decided. Of course, you and I both understand that Mr. Hoxey is not to keep such money as his mines'

'They're our mines.'

'The court will decide that, later on, but I must advise you that as an alien breaking the law'

'Judge Grant! The jury is to decide that, not you. You're stealing our property.'

'You can go to jail for contempt, I suppose you know that.'

'I'm sorry. I mean Hoxey is stealing'

'Mr. Skellerby, if that's how you pronounce your name, you don't seem to understand what a receivership is. Mr. Hoxey is there to protect you and the public . . . till the trial can take place. Not a penny of that money, I assure you, will ever accrue to him, except for a small managerial fee to which, even you must admit, he's entitled.'

'But it goes out of here on every ship. I've watched.'

'For safekeeping. Should the trial be decided in your favor,' this being said in a tone of voice which guaranteed that it would not, 'you would, of course, get back all the money, except for the managerial fee I spoke of.'

'Which is how much?'

'Twenty thousand a month. Set by the court.' When Skjellerup exploded, Judge Grant justified the fee: 'Mr. Hoxey is an important man in the United States. Adviser to presidents. Counselor to great industries. He can't work for shavings.'

Skjellerup had heard enough, and even though his strict Norwegian upbringing had indoctrinated in him a grave

respect for policemen, ministers, schoolteachers and judges, he was morally infuriated; his Lutheran sense of rectitude was outraged and he said so: 'Judge Grant, an evil thing is being

621

done in Nome. In a democracy like the United States, this can't be allowed. I don't know how it will be stopped, but it will be stopped. You cannot steal a man's honest work.'

'Mr. Killerbride, or whatever. Do you know what a deportation order is? The judge signs a paper stating that you're a dangerous alien, and out you go, back to Lapland where you belong.'

'I'm Norwegian.'

'That's almost as bad. Miss Peckham, show this man out.' She did, making note of his name, the location of his mine and the threats made against him.

During most of these trying times Hoxey remained invisible, and men like Skjellerup, who now saw pretty clearly what the plot was Judge Grant to issue improper orders, Hoxey to steal the property thus turned loose suspected that the South Dakotan was hiding through fear of being shot, but that was not the case. Hoxey was kept indoors writing an unbroken stream of letters to senators, representatives and even the President, pointing out a mistake that had been made in the 1900 Alaska Code and lobbying for an immediate rectification:

We simply must have a new law which nullifies any mining clairn filed by an alien illegally, namely, while he was an alien. As you are aware, I know Alaska like the back of my hand, and few evils hold this area back like having Scandinavians and Russians holding title to mines on American soil. I urge you to correct this evil.

If passed, Hoxey's proposed bill would legally confirm the dispossession of aliens like Skjellerup and Arkikov and give sanction to his temporary receivership of the Nome holdings. After that, permanent possession would depend upon his ingenuity and Judge Grant's stupidity. With just a little luck and the continuance of Judge Grant's good health until all the claims had been thrown into receivership, Hoxey would be a millionaire before half a year was out and a multimillionaire in due course.

But to nail this down, he must convince Congress to pass his bill, and to make this happen, he must bombard Washington with a blizzard of letters. Obviously, he needed secretarial help, and since Judge Grant had little to do except write dispossession orders, Hoxey borrowed Missy, and this gave her an opportunity to obtain proof of the disreputable relationship between the two men, for boastfully Hoxey would say in some letters: 'In these matters we can rely on our good friend, the eminent Iowa jurist,' or even more damning: 'So 622

far Judge Grant has handed down not one decision adverse to our cause, and I think we can depend on him for the same kind of help in the future.'

In the meantime, conditions in Nome worsened. The filth grew deeper in the streets.

People began to die of strange diseases. There were robberies, and now and then a miner would be found dead near his claim, now occupied by Hoxey's men. Women were assaulted even in the twilight hours, and feared to move about at night.

One evening, though Missy and Murphy were still not sure they could confide in Tom Venn, they invited him to dinner: 'We're so pleased to have a little extra these days so we can show our gratitude.'

'I was happy . . . no, I was proud to recommend you to the two gentlemen who are doing so much to make Nome better. What do you think of them?'

'They work hard,' Missy said evasively. 'At least Mr. Hoxey does.'

'I thought you were working for the judge.'

'I am, but Mr. Hoxey has to write a lot of letters to Washington. To Seattle too, so he borrows me.'

Tom knew that he must not ask a secretary to break the confidence under which she worked, so he asked no more about the letters, but she did feel free to make a general observation: 'Mr. Hoxey seems to think that Alaska should be governed from Seattle.'

'I agree. They have the brains down there . . . the money ... they know what's best for the nation as a whole. And my company, at least, does a grand job of protecting Alaskan interests.'

Murphy changed the subject: 'I've been thinking, Tom, that what Nome needs is not Judge Grant and Mr. Hoxey from Seattle, but Superintendent Steele and Officer Kirby from Dawson. Do you realize that those two men could clean this town up in a weekend?'

So the three shifted to that provocative topic, and they agreed that even one man like Steele, fortified by tradition and supported from Ottawa, could hammer Nome into shape. 'The cribs would be out of sight,' Murphy said. 'Those little buildings that project into the main street, they'd be gone by nightfall.

The saloons that steal from newcomers, out! One man could clean up this town, if he was the right man.'

Other books

Ten Thousand Saints by Eleanor Henderson
The Killing Kind by Bryan Smith
The Promise of Surrender by Liliana Hart
Wild Ones (The Lane) by Wyllys, Kristine
Post Mortem by London, Kate
The Houseguest by Thomas Berger