A SACK OF CATS
The weary work of packing had gone on endlessly in the bare rooms of the
old Huff house and now Virginia, with two kittens in her arms and the
mother cat following behind, was passing it all in review. A solid row
of packing boxes, arrayed on the front gallery, awaited the motor truck;
and here and there in corners lay piles of discarded treasures that were
destined to go to Charley for loot. He was hanging about, with his
pistol well in front, on the watch for Stiff Neck George; but up to that
moment the Widow had not said the word that would start the mad rush for
plunder. Her trunks were all packed, the china nested in barrels and the
bedding sewed up in burlap; but still from day to day she put off the
evil moment, and Virginia did not try to hurry her. The house had been
their home for ten years and more and, though Los Angeles would be fine
with its palm trees and bungalows, it was a strange land, far away. And
what would they do in that city of strange faces and hustling, eager
real-estate agents? It was that which held the Widow back.
In the city there would be rent and water to pay for, and electric
lights and wood; but in desolate Keno rent and water and wood were free,
and the electric light company had taken down its poles. If the town
were not so dead--if they could only make a living,--the Widow started
up for the thousandth time, for she heard a racing auto down the street.
It was Wiley Holman, as sure as shooting, and--well, Wiley was not so
bad. It was his money, really, that had enabled them to pack up, and
would enable them to go, when they started; and the Widow knew, as well
as she knew anything, that he had designs upon the mine. He was after
the Paymaster, and if he ever got hold of it--well, Keno would come back
to its own. She rushed to the door and looked out into the street; and
when she met Virginia, running away from meeting Wiley, she caught her
and whirled her about.
"Now you go back there," she hissed in her ear, "and I want you to be
nice to him--he may have come back about the mine."
Virginia went out the door and, as Wiley Holman saw her standing there,
he leapt out and came up the steps.
"Well, well," he said, "just in time to say good-by. And I wanted to see
you, too." He smiled down at her boyishly and Virginia's eyes turned
gentle as he took both her hands in his. "I've got some news to tell
you," he burst out eagerly; "not news that will buy you anything but
something to remember when you're gone."
He led her to a box and, taking one of the kittens, sat down with his
back to the door. Then he rose up hastily at a sudden rustle from behind
and glanced inquiringly at Virginia.
"It's just mother," she said and at the mention of her name Mrs. Huff
came boldly out.
"Why, good morning, Wiley," she said, smiling over-sweetly. "Seems to me
you're awful early."
"Yes," answered Wiley, trying vainly to seem polite, "I just stopped off
to say good-by!"
He offered her his hand, but the Widow ignored the hint and took the
conversation to herself.
"Well, I'm real glad you came," she went on sociably, "because I wanted
to see you on a matter of business. In fact, I've been kind of waiting,
on the chance that you might come through. Oh, I know that I don't
count, but you can see Virginia afterwards; and I wanted to consult you
about my stock. Yes, I know," she hastened on, as his face turned grim,
"I haven't treated you fairly at all. I should have taken your offer,
when you said you'd give ten cents for every share of stock that I had.
But I took them to that Blount and he gave me next to nothing, and now
he's holding the stock. But what I wanted to ask was: Isn't there some
way we can arrange it to get it back and sell it to your father?"
"No, I don't think so," answered Wiley, putting down the kitten,
"and--well, I guess I'd better go."
He rose up reluctantly, but the Widow would not hear to it and Virginia
beckoned him to stay.
"Well, now listen," persisted the Widow. "That stock certainly must be
worth something."
"Not to you," returned Wiley. "I saw Blount only yesterday and he says
it belongs to him."
"Well, it does not!" declared the Widow, but as no one contradicted her,
she took a different tack. "Are you coming back?" she asked, smiling
brightly. "Are you going to open up the mine?"
Wiley's face fell for a moment.
"What gave you that idea?" he inquired bluffly, but the Widow pointed a
finger and laughed roguishly.
"I knew it," she cried. "I've known it for months--and I wish you the
best of good luck."
"Oh, you do, eh?" grunted Wiley, and stood undecided as Mrs. Huff
continued her assurances. He had come there to see Virginia, but
business was business and the Widow seemed almost reasonable. "Huh,
that's funny," he said at last. "I thought you had it in for me. What's
the chance for getting a quit-claim?"
"A quit-claim!" echoed the Widow, suddenly pricking up her ears. "Why,
what do you want that for, now?"
"Well, you're going away," explained Wiley quietly, "and it might come
in handy, later, if I should want to take over the mine. Of course
you've got no title--and no stock, for that matter--but I'll give you a
hundred dollars, all the same."
"I'll take it!" snapped the Widow and Wiley broke out laughing as he
reached for his fountain pen.
"Zingo!" he grinned and then he bit his lip, for the Widow was quick to
take offence. "Of course," he went on, "this doesn't affect your stock
if you should ever get it back from Blount. That is still your property,
according to law, and this quit-claim just guarantees me free entry and
possession. We'll get Virginia to witness the agreement."
"All right," bridled the Widow and watched him cynically as he wrote out
the quit-claim and check. "Oh! Actually!" she mocked as he put the check
in her hands. "I just wanted to see if you were bluffing."
"Well, you know now," he answered and sat in stony silence until she
departed with a triumphant smirk. Then he glanced at Virginia and
motioned towards the street, but she sighed and shook her head.
"No," she said, "I can't leave the house--mother is likely to start any
time, now."
"I suppose you'll be glad to go," he suggested at last as she sat down
and gathered up the kittens. "The old town is sure awful dead."
"Yes--I guess so," she agreed half-heartedly. "You'd think so, but we
don't seem to go."
"Is there anything I can do for you?" he inquired after a silence. "You
know what I told you once, Virginia."
"Yes, I know," she answered bitterly, "but--Oh, I'm ashamed to let you
help me, after the way I acted up about Charley."
"Well, forget it," he said at length. "I guess I get kind of ugly when
anyone doubts my good faith. It's on account of my father, and calling
him Honest John--but say, I forgot to tell the news!"
Virginia looked up inquiringly and he beckoned her into the corner where
no one could overhear his words.
"Blount sent for me yesterday--trying to sell me the mine," he whispered
in her ear, "and I made him show me his stock. And when I looked on the
back of his promotion certificates--the ones he got for promoting the
mine--I found by the endorsements that he'd sold every one of them
before or during the panic. Do you see? They were street certificates,
passing from hand to hand without going to the company for transfer, but
every broker that handled them had written down his name as a memorandum
of the date and sale. Don't you see what he did--he set your father
against my father, and my father against yours, and all the time, like
the crook he is, he was selling them both out for a profit. I could have
killed him, the old dog, only I thought it would hurt him more to
whipsaw him out of his mine; but listen now, Virginia, don't you think
we can be friends--because my father never robbed anybody of a cent! He
thought more of the Colonel than he did of me; and I've started out,
even if it is a little late, to prove that he was on the square."
He stopped abruptly, for in his rush of words he had failed to note the
anger in her eyes, until now she turned and faced him.
"Oho!" she said, "so that's your idea--you're going to whipsaw Blount
out of his mine?"
"If I can!" hedged Wiley. "But for the Lord's sake, Virginia, don't tell
what I said to your mother! It won't make any difference, because she's
given me a quit-claim--but what's the use of having any trouble?"
"Yes, sure enough!" murmured Virginia, with cutting sarcasm. "She might
even demand her rights!"
"Well, maybe you _like_ to fight!" burst out Wiley angrily, "and if
you do, all right--hop to it! But I'll tell you one thing; if you can't
be reasonable, I can be just as bullheaded as anybody!"
"Yes, you can," she agreed and then she sighed wearily, and waved it all
away with one hand. "Well, all right," she said, "I'm so sick and tired
of it that I certainly don't want any more. And since I've taken your
money, as you know very well, I'm going to go away and give you peace."
Her eyes blinked fast, to hold back the tears, and once more the son of
Honest John weakened.
"No, I don't want you to go away," he answered gently, "but--isn't there
something I can do before you go? I have to fight my way, you know that
yourself, Virginia; but don't let that keep us from being friends. I'm a
mining engineer, and I can't tell you all my plans, because that sure
would put me out of business; but why can't you trust me, and then I'll
trust you and--what is it you've got on your mind?"
He reached for her hand but she drew it away and sat quiet, looking up
the street.
"You wouldn't understand," she said with a sigh. "You're always thinking
about money and mines. But a woman is different--I suppose you'll laugh
at me, but I'm worried about my cats."
"About your cats!" he echoed, and she smiled up at him wistfully and
then looked down at the kittens in her lap.
"Yes," she said, "you know they were left to me when the people moved
out of town, and now I've got eight of them and I just know that old
Charley----"
"He'll starve 'em to death," broke in Wiley, instantly. "I know the old
tarrier well. You give 'em to me, Virginia, and I swear I'll take care
of 'em just the same as I would of--you."
"Oh," smiled Virginia, and then she gave him her hand and the old hatred
died out in her eyes. "That's good of you, Wiley, and I certainly
appreciate it; because no one would trust them with Charley. I'm going
to take the two kittens, but you can have the rest of them and--you can
write to me about them, sometimes."
"Every week," answered Wiley. "I'll take 'em back to the ranch and the
girls will look after them when I'm gone. We'll have to put them in
sacks, but that will be better----"
"Yes, that's better than starving," assented Virginia absently, and
Wiley rose suddenly to go. There was something indefinable that stood
between them, and no effort of his could break it down. He shook hands
perfunctorily and started down the gallery and then abruptly he turned
and swung back.
"Here," he said, throwing her stock down before her, "I told you to hold
onto that, once."