BALKING A RASCAL
Nat Shaley, undismayed by Slim Tyler's reception of him, tried to
force his unpleasant countenance into a look of amiability.
"I figger to have a talk with you, son," said Shaley, in a tone which
astonished Slim because it was so friendly and had the effect of
putting him instantly on his guard. "I say now, can't we go
somewhere where nobody'll be buttin' in to bother us?"
Slim hesitated. He abominated the man and wanted to have nothing to
do with him.
On the other hand, he was anxious to find out all that he could about
the mysterious Oregon lumber deal in which he now felt certain his
father had been swindled by the old miser.
Of course, Shaley would never admit anything. But there was a chance
that some unguarded utterance of his might give Slim a clue that
could be followed up with profit.
"If you must be private," Slim said brusquely, "come over there with
me back of Stummel's hot dog stand. We're not apt to be interrupted
there."
Nat Shaley's small eyes gleamed assent. He wore a satisfied smirk.
"All right, son," he said in his new manner. "You lead the way an'
I'll follow."
When they had reached the vacant patch of land back of Carl Stummel's
place, Slim Tyler turned and faced the man who was his worst enemy
and had probably been his father's evil genius.
"Well," he said crisply, "out with it. I'm no friend of yours, Nat
Shaley. I won't pretend to be. If you have anything to say to me,
say it quickly and get it over with."
"Not so fast, not so fast," protested Shaley, who seemed a bit
disconcerted by the boy's uncompromising attitude. "Mebbe when you
hear what I have to say, you won't talk so loud about us bein'
enemies----"
"All right," Slim interrupted impatiently. "Get on with it. What do
you want?"
"I don't want nothin'," said Shaley, his own tone beginning to rasp.
"I come here to give you somethin'. Howsomever, if you don't want
it, you don't have to take it."
"Give me something!" replied Slim contemptuously. "That doesn't seem
to be in your line, Nat Shaley. From what I've seen of you you're
the taking, not the giving sort."
For a moment the mask of good nature dropped from the old miser's
face and his eyes glowed venomously. He started to speak and stopped
with his mouth half open. It was evident that he controlled himself
by a gigantic effort.
"You ain't helpin' me to be nice to you," said the old scoundrel,
with a leer. "But I got a forgivin' disposition an' I ain't to be
turned from my purpose by no hot-headed young feller that don't know
what side his bread's buttered on. Now look here, Slim, I got some
money for you."
"Money!" Slim's mind leaped to the twenty thousand dollars out of
which his father had been swindled. Was it possible? Was a miracle
happening? No. The age of miracles was past.
Well, then, what was the old villain up to?
"I got to thinkin' about how I treated you that time at the railroad
when you came down thinkin' to save my life," went on Shaley. "You
tried to help me, an' I ain't properly thanked you fer it."
Slim was more than ever suspicious. Gratitude was not one of
Shaley's outstanding traits.
"Is that what you brought me here for?" Slim asked guardedly. "To
say 'thank you'?"
"Well, yes an' no. But there's a more important part. I aim to pay
you the back wages you say I owe you."
"Not only what I say you owe me, but what you know you owe me,"
corrected Slim. "It's about time you dug it up. Knowing you, I'd
kissed it good-by."
Again Nat Shaley's face became purple with rage. He reigned in his
temper with a great effort.
"What does the old rascal want of me," thought Slim, eying his
one-time employer keenly. "He isn't loosening up with any forty
dollars just for the fun of it--not Nat Shaley."
He stretched out his hand.
"Let me see the color of the money," he challenged.
Nat Shaley drew back. A crafty expression marred the labored
amiability of his face.
"All right, all right, I'll give it to you. All in good time. I
ain't deceivin' you, even if you seem to think I am. Look here!"
He thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out a big roll of bills.
Before Slim's doubting eyes he counted out four, crisp, new tens.
Nevertheless, when Slim again stretched out his hand, desirous to
prove to himself that he was not dreaming, Shaley still held the
bills clutched in his scrawny fingers.
"Now that you have the proof that I'm tryin' to be your friend, mebbe
you won't mind doin' me a little favor."
The suggestion was thrown off carelessly, as though it had no bearing
whatever upon the payment of the forty dollars of back wages.
Slim Tyler was not fooled for an instant.
"I knew you wouldn't loosen up on that forty dollars unless you were
out to get your money's worth," he said bitingly. "Speak up, Shaley,
and let's get this over with. What's on your mind?"
Nat Shaley's face assumed an innocent air which was comical on that
villainous countenance.
"It's jest about that there little accident up at the railroad," he
said smoothly. "You seen fer yourself how the engine smashed my car.
But I can't fix it up to collect damages unless I have a witness to
prove that the company was wrong."
Light broke upon Slim Tyler.
"And you want me to be that witness. Is that it?" he asked, with
misleading calm.
Shaley nodded. He leered up at Slim hopefully. It was his belief
that anything could be bought with money. Had he not just offered
Slim Tyler forty dollars?
"Sure," he said. "All you'll have to do is to say that I was drivin'
all right till the car seemed to hit somethin' stickin' from the
tracks an' turned over. An' you can say, too, that there was plenty
of time fer the train to stop before it smashed into the car." He
held the forty dollars conspicuously displayed, so that it would be
the greater temptation for the young aviator. "What's more, I'm
willin' to take your word fer it. All you have to say is that you're
sure the accident was the fault of the railroad and--here's your
forty dollars."
Nat Shaley had failed to note Slim's ominous quiet. Now the young
man spoke, still quietly.
"You low-down skunk!"
Nat Shaley shrank back as though he had been struck. His thin lips
fell back from his teeth in a snarl. Fury gleamed in his eyes.
"So that's the way you treat me when I offer you money!" he
ejaculated.
"You offer me money if I'll lie for you!" cried Slim, his rage slowly
mastering him. It was with difficulty that he restrained himself
from leaping at Shaley's throat. "You rat! You thief! Trying to
bribe me to do your dirty work for you! Get away from here before I
forget myself and give you what's coming to you."
"So that's your line, is it?" snarled Shaley. "Let me tell you that
you ain't foolin' me--no, not fer a minute. You ain't so innocent as
you try to make me think. You ain't jest got the spunk to pull off
the deal, that's all. You never was no good."
"You crook!" Slim was white with rage. "I ought to wipe up the
ground with you. Not content to steal twenty thousand dollars from
my father, you have to come out here and try to bribe me with your
measly little forty dollars back pay that's mine by right. Get out
of here, you hound. If you were a younger man, you'd get my fist on
the point of your jaw."
At mention of the twenty thousand dollars, Nat Shaley began to back
slowly away.
"I never stole a cent from your father," he growled. "You're hipped,
that's what you are."
"I suppose you never heard of Cameron Flood either," snapped Slim.
"Never heard of Hugh Garrabrant."
A look of fright came into Shaley's eyes.
"You're crazy," snarled Shaley, all the color ebbing from his face.
"What fool nonsense is it flingin' them names at me? They don't mean
nothin'. Never heerd of 'em."
"You will hear of them plenty of times before I'm through with you,"
replied Slim. "Now get away from here as fast as your legs can carry
you. And if you bring any more of your slimy propositions to me,
you'll wish you hadn't."
"You young fool," growled Shaley, as he beat a final retreat.
"You'll be sorry some day. Nat Shaley ain't a good enemy to have,
an' don't you fergit it."