When Clyde Burnaby entered Wade's office, that busy lawyer was much
surprised. "I thought you had gone away," he said as they shook hands.
"It beats me how any young woman with the price of an elsewhere can
stay in this town in summer."
Clyde laughed as she sat down. She looked deliciously cool, though the
mercury was in the nineties, and the dusty cañonlike streets were like
ovens. "I was on the point of going," she admitted, "but I don't know
where to go. I came for some information on another point, Mr. Wade."
"Yes?" said Wade interrogatively. "We carry a very complete stock of
information here." He waved a hand at the formidable rows of half-calf
and circuit bindings in his bookcase. "What particular shade, model, or
style may I show you? Something seasonable and yet durable? Here is a
very attractive and well-bound ten-pound creation covering most of the
common or garden varieties of contract, including breach of promise to
marry. Nice summer reading. Or, perhaps----"
"Now _do_ you think any sensible man would break such a promise to me?"
she laughed.
"You know the answer already," Wade replied. "You are a very
good-looking young woman--almost as good-looking as Kitty."
"Model husband," Clyde commented approvingly. "Kitty is a darling. But
to come to the point, Mr. Wade, I want some information about Mr.
Dunne."
"Casey Dunne?" inquired Wade, with a slight lift of his brows. "What
has he been doing? What do you want to know about him?"
"I want to know about his business affairs--or perhaps I should say his
business troubles."
"Why?" Wade asked bluntly, eying her with curiosity.
Clyde's colour heightened a little but she met his gaze directly. "I
had a letter from him," she replied, "in which, among other things, he
referred to his troubles with the railway company that owns land in his
district--troubles about water. It seems to be a serious matter."
"How did he happen to write you about it?" asked Wade. "Do you
correspond? I beg your pardon. It's none of my business, but Casey
isn't given to telling his troubles."
"I think," said Clyde, "I had better tell you how I first met Mr.
Dunne." She did so, considerably to Wade's surprise.
"That's just like Casey all through," he commented. "Close as a clam.
Never told me about meeting you before. And so he lent you ten dollars!
You!" He chuckled at the idea. "Well, later he may have a use for that
same ten."
"You really mean that? If money would help him now----"
"It isn't necessary just yet. I'll tell you how matters stand." He did
so with brevity and lucidity. "The situation now is that the government
leaves the right to water to be determined by the courts. The court
won't sit till some time in September. So there you are. Meanwhile the
company is trying to take the water and the ranchers are trying to
prevent them. So far nobody has been hurt, but I'm afraid, with the
bitterness which is sure to develop, there may be serious trouble at
any time."
"Mr. Dunne and his friends have not funds for a long legal fight?"
"No. Casey himself is land poor--that is, he has put every dollar he
could rake together into land. He will either go broke or make a
killing. The others have good ranches, but no money. And they can't
raise any on their land, for nobody would lend under these conditions.
Their very existence is involved."
"I have plenty of money," said Clyde. "More than I know what to do
with; more than I can ever spend, living as I do. I will give you a
check now for whatever sum you require to take this case to the very
highest court."
"That's a very generous offer," said Wade, "but I can't accept it. It's
not merely a case of lack of the sinews of war. It's a case of a huge
corporation against a few individuals with as little influence as they
have money. You might put up law costs to an enormous extent uselessly.
You see, you would be bucking Western Airline. Your respected uncle
might do that, but you can't."
Clyde's smooth forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. But she merely said: "If
I can do anything--with money or in any other way--for Mr. Dunne and
his friends, I'm ready to do it."
"I don't know what you can do just now," said Wade. "I'm going on a
vacation for a few weeks. Most of it I intend to spend out in that part
of the country. When I return I'll know more about it."
"Is Kitty going, too?" Clyde asked.
"She wants to, but I don't like the idea. It's a little rough there.
I'd prefer her to go where she'd be more comfortable."
"She wouldn't enjoy it alone."
"Suppose you keep her company," Wade suggested. "She'd be delighted."
"Suppose," said Clyde, "we both keep you company?"
"Eh!" said Wade.
"Well, why not? We're both sick of dressed-up summer resorts. I want to
see this country of Mr. Dunne's. We can rough it if we have to. We'll
have a camp or take a house--we'll get along somehow."
"Oh, nonsense!" Wade objected. "You wouldn't like it. It's as hot as
perdition in the daytime. You'd be sick of it."
"If we don't like it we can leave. If Kitty will go and doesn't object
to me, will you take us both?"
"You'll both go if you want to, whether I say 'no' or not," said Wade.
"Is this a put-up job? Have you fixed it with Kitty?"
"Not yet," said Clyde, her eyes twinkling, "but I'm going to."
From Wade's office Clyde went straight to the headquarters of the Hess
System, finding its chief in the act of leaving.
Jim Hess was big, carelessly dressed, kindly faced, and the gray of his
close-clipped moustache was yellowed by smoke. He sat down and motioned
his niece to a seat, his hand mechanically searching for a cigar.
"Well, young lady, what's the trouble?" he asked.
"I want about fifteen minutes of your time, Uncle Jim."
"Easy," Hess commented. As a rule he was sparing of words. "I was
afraid you wanted to borrow money." Nevertheless he eyed her shrewdly.
She was a great favourite of his, and he devoted much more time to her
affairs than she suspected.
Beginning at the beginning, she told him of Casey Dunne, her meeting
with him, the water trouble, and the attitude of the Western Airline.
Her memory was good and her understanding excellent. Therefore she was
able to state the case clearly.
"This Dunne and his friends," Hess commented, "seem to me to be up
against it."
"I thought that you might be able to do something to help them."
"What?"
"I didn't know. But you are a railway man. You may have some influence
with Mr. York or his directors. Perhaps you might bring influence to
bear."
Hess smiled grimly. "Old Nick has more influence with York than I have.
He crosses the street when he sees me. I like him about as much as he
likes me. He's boss of his own show--his directors cut no ice. Anyway,
it's none of my business. I've no excuse for butting in." Her face
showed her disappointment. "I'm sorry," said Hess. "I'd do anything I
could for you, little girl, or for any one who ever did you a good
turn. But you see how it is. I can't ask favours of York and his crowd.
If I did they'd only refuse."
"Of course not--if it's that way," Clyde acknowledged. "I didn't know.
I thought you might be able to do something or suggest something."
Hess was silent, smoking meditatively, drawing aimless lines on a
blotter. "Got much money loose?" he asked suddenly.
"Plenty," Clyde replied. "Why?"
"Well," said Hess slowly, "just at present Western Air looks to me like
good buying."
"Does it? I'll buy a little, if you say so."
"Don't say I said so; don't mention my name. Tell your brokers to buy
quietly at the market just as much as you can stand. Tell 'em to buy
till you countermand their instructions. I'll let you know when to do
that. Tell 'em to buy at the present market. If the price breaks keep
on buying. And if you go away anywhere let me know where a wire will
get you."
"Thanks, Uncle Jim," said Clyde. "You think Western Air is a good
investment, then?"
"I didn't say that--I said it was good buying," said Hess. "It's not
high now. Some day"--he hesitated--"some day it ought to be worth as
much as Hess System--as much as one of our own stocks."
With this prophecy, which he appeared to regret, Jim Hess patted his
niece on the shoulder, told her not to worry about other people's
troubles, and departed to keep his engagement.
Clyde immediately rang up Mrs. Wade, and, finding her at home,
proceeded there at once, to "fix" matters; a thing by no means hard to
accomplish, for Kitty Wade found the prospect of a lonesome vacation
very unattractive, and was a willing conspirator.
"We'll just _make_ Harrison take us," she declared. "We'll have all
sorts of a good time, too, riding and driving and fishing and whatever
else they do. Won't it be a relief not to have to dress up? And I'll be
an ideal chaperon, dear, upon my word."
"Oh, my liking for Mr. Dunne hasn't reached that stage," laughed Clyde,
flushing a little, but too wise to pretend density. She had ever found
that the best defence against such badinage lay in frankness. "But
don't leave me alone with him, Kitty. It might end with his endowing me
with his name and worldly goods. 'Mrs. Casey Dunne!' Euphonious, don't
you think? I wonder if I should like to hear myself announced in that
way?"
Kitty Wade glanced at her narrowly. Clyde's face expressed nothing but
laughing amusement.
"Harrison has a high opinion of him," she said. "I believe his father
was supposed to be wealthy until after his death, when Mr. Dunne was a
boy. And he is very presentable. I think he deserves a great deal of
credit."
"So do I," Clyde agreed heartily. "I told Mr. Wade that I was prepared
to furnish whatever money was needed for this lawsuit of Mr. Dunne's."
"You did!" exclaimed Mrs. Wade. "Why, Clyde whatever for? How does it
concern you?"
And Clyde told her for the first time of her first meeting with Casey
Dunne.
"And you never told me!" Kitty Wade commented, as her husband had done.
"It's a real romance in real life. But I think you are the most
generous girl I ever heard of. If you were in love with him, of course
that would explain it. Aren't you, now--a little?"
"I'm not in love with him, Kitty--honestly I'm not," Clyde responded.
"I don't know whether I shall ever be or not. He did me a service which
I would like to repay. I have more money than I know what to do with.
If money would help him over a rough place it was up to me. At least,
that's how I looked at it. And as for going out to his country--why, I
want to, that's all. I want to see the country which produces that sort
of man. He's different from the others, somehow. I don't think he cares
whether I have money or not. He wasn't going to recall himself to me
till I practically recognized him. I know I'm good-looking and I know
he knows it, but I don't think he cares. And he'd never have written me
in this world or told me a thing about it himself if I hadn't written
him first and asked him to."
"Why, Clyde!" Kitty Wade exclaimed in amazement.
"That's exactly what I did," Clyde asseverated. "If I were in love with
him that would be the last thing I'd own up to, wouldn't it? Heavens
above! Kitty, I know it's unmaidenly by all the old standards. You're
married; you have your husband and your home and your interests. I have
none of these things. You can't realize how utterly purposeless and
idle and empty my life is. Just killing time. That was well enough a
few years ago, and I enjoyed it. But now I'm as old as you are. I want
something different from the daily and yearly round of sameness. If I
were a man I'd work sixteen hours a day. If I had any special talent
I'd cultivate it. But I haven't. I'm just an ordinary rich girl, in
danger of physical and mental stagnation--in danger of marrying some
equally rich man whom I don't love, in order to provide myself with new
interests."
"Casey Dunne is a new interest, I suppose," said Kitty Wade dryly.
"I wish you wouldn't, Kitty," said Clyde.
"Then I won't," said Kitty Wade, "for I think you believe what you say.
Which," she added to herself, "is more than I do, young lady."