THE INVISIBLE POWER
Jay Simmons, the freight agent, was tilted comfortably in a chair near a
window looking out upon the railroad platform when Lawler stepped into
the office. The office was on the second floor, and from a side window
the agent had seen Lawler coming toward the station from Warden's
office. He had been sitting near the side window, but when he saw Lawler
approaching the station he had drawn his chair to one of the front
windows. And now, apparently, he was surprised to see Lawler, for when
the latter opened the door of the office Simmons exclaimed, with assumed
heartiness:
"Well, if it ain't Kane Lawler!"
Simmons was a rotund man, bald, with red hair that had a faded,
washed-out appearance. His eyes were large, pale blue in color, with a
singularly ingratiating expression which was made almost yearning by
light, colorless lashes.
Simmons' eyes, however, were unreliable as an index to his character.
One could not examine very far into them. They seemed to be shallow,
baffling. Simmons did not permit his eyes to betray his thoughts. He
used them as masks to hide from prying eyes the things that he did not
wish others to see.
"Come a-visitin', Lawler?" asked Simmons as Lawler halted midway in the
room and smiled faintly at the greeting he received.
"Not exactly, Simmons."
"Not exactly, eh? I reckon that means you've got some business. I'll be
glad to help you out--if I can."
"I'm going to ship my stock East, Simmons, and I'm wanting cars for
them--eight thousand head."
Simmons still sat in the chair beside the window. He now pursed his
lips, drew his brows together and surveyed Lawler attentively.
"Eight thousand head, eh? Sort of whooped 'em up this season, didn't
you. I reckon Gary Warden took 'em all?"
"Warden and I couldn't get together. I'm shipping them East, myself."
"Consignin' 'em to who?"
"They'll go to Legget and Mellert."
"H'm; they're an independent concern, ain't they?"
"Yes; that's the firm my father shipped to before Jim Lefingwell opened
an office here."
Simmons locked his fingers together and squinted his eyes at Lawler.
"H'm," he said. Then he was silent, seemingly meditating. Then he shook
his head slowly from side to side. Apparently he was gravely considering
a problem and could find no solution for it.
He cleared his throat, looked at Lawler, then away from him.
"I reckon it's goin' to be a lot bothersome to ship that bunch of stock,
Lawler--a heap bothersome. There's been half a dozen other owners in to
see me within the last week or so, an' I couldn't give them no
encouragement. There ain't an empty car in the state."
Lawler was watching him intently, and the expression in his eyes
embarrassed Simmons. He flushed, cleared his throat again, and then shot
a belligerent glance at Lawler.
"It ain't my fault--not a bit of it, Lawler. I've been losin' sleep over
this thing--losin' sleep, I tell you! I've telegraphed every damned
point on the line. This road is swept clean as a whistle. 'No cars' they
wire back to me--'no cars!' I've read that answer until there ain't no
room for anything else in my brain.
"The worst of it is, I'm gettin' blamed for it. You'd think I was
runnin' the damned railroad--that I was givin' orders to the president.
Lem Caldwell, of the Star, over to Keegles, was in here yesterday,
threatenin' to herd ride me if I didn't have a hundred cars here this
day, week. He'd been to see Gary Warden--the same as you have--an' he
was figgerin' on playin' her independent. An' some more owners have been
in. I don't know what in hell the company is thinkin' of--no cars, an'
the round-up just over."
Simmons had worked himself into a near frenzy. His face had become
bloated with passion, he was breathing fast. But Lawler noted that his
eyes were shifty, that he turned them everywhere except upon Lawler.
Simmons now paused, seemingly having exhausted his breath.
"I've just left Gary Warden," said Lawler, slowly. "He offered his price
for my stock. He told me if I accepted, it meant there would be no
delay, that they would be shipped immediately. Warden seems to know
where he can get cars."
Simmons' face reddened deeply, the flush suffusing his neck and ears. He
shot one swift glance at Lawler, and then looked down. In that swift
glance, however, Lawler had seen a fleeting gleam of guilt, of
insincerity.
Lawler laughed shortly--a sound that made Simmons shoot another swift
glance at him.
"How is it that Gary Warden figures on getting cars, Simmons?" said
Lawler.
Simmons got up, his face flaming with rage.
"You're accusin' me of holdin' somethin' back, eh? You're callin' me a
liar! You're thinkin' I'm----"
"Easy, there, Simmons."
There was a chill in Lawler's voice that brought Simmons rigid with a
snap--as though he had suddenly been drenched with cold water. The flush
left his face; he drew a deep, quick breath; then stood with open mouth,
watching Lawler.
"Simmons," said the latter; "it has been my experience that whenever a
man is touchy about his veracity, he will bear watching. You and Gary
Warden have both flared up from the same spark. I don't know whether
this thing has been framed up or not. But it looks mighty suspicious. It
is the first time there has been a lack of cars after a round-up.
Curiously, the lack of cars is coincident with Gary Warden's first
season as a buyer of cattle.
"I don't say that you've got anything to do with it, but it's mighty
plain you know something about it. I'm not asking you to tell what you
know, because if there is a frame-up, it's a mighty big thing, and you
are about as important a figure in it as a yellow coyote in a desert. I
reckon that's all, Simmons. You can tell your boss that Kane Lawler says
he can go to hell."
He wheeled, crossed the floor, went out of the room and left the door
open behind him. Simmons could hear his step on the stairs. Then Simmons
sat down again, drew a big red bandanna handkerchief from a hip pocket
and wiped some big beads of perspiration from his forehead. He was
breathing fast, and his face was mottled with purple spots. He got up,
ran to a side window, and watched Lawler until the latter vanished
behind a building opposite Gary Warden's office.
Again Simmons mopped his brow. And now he drew a breath of relief.
"Whew!" he said, aloud; "I'm glad that's over. I've been dreadin' it.
He's the only one in the whole bunch that I was afraid of. An' he's
wise. There'll be hell in this section, now--pure, unadulterated hell,
an' no mistake!"