THINKING HARD
The days slipped by with great rapidity. They passed far too rapidly
for Gordon. The expectation of Silas Mallinsbee that David Slosson
would eventually listen to reason, and accept terms for himself similar
to those agreeable to him on behalf of the railroad, showed no sign of
maturing. The firmness of his front in no way seemed to affect the
grafting agent, and from day to day, although the rancher and his
assistant waited patiently for a definite _denouement_, nothing
occurred to hold out promise one way or another. Mallinsbee said very
little, but he watched events with wide-open eyes, and not altogether
without hope that the man would be brought to reason. His eyes were on
Hazel, smiling appreciation, for Hazel was at work using every art of
which she was capable to frustrate any opposition to her father's
plans, and to help on, as she described it, the "good work."
"I'm a 'sharper' in this, Mr. Van Henslaer," she declared, in face of
one of Gordon's frequent protests. "I'm no better than David Slosson.
And I--I want you to understand that. I think your ideas of chivalry
are just too sweet, but I want you to look with my eyes. We're a bunch
of most ordinary folk who want to win out. If you and my daddy thought
by burying him, dead or alive, you could beat his hand, why, I guess it
would take an express locomotive to stop you. Well, I'm out to try and
put him out of harm's way in my own fashion. If I can't do it, why,
he'll find I'm not the dandy prairie flower he's figuring I am just
now. That's all. So meanwhile get on with any old plans you can find
up your sleeve. By hook or _crook_ we've _got_ to make good."
By this expression of the girl's extraordinary determination doubtless
Gordon should have been silenced. But he was not silenced, nor
anything like it. The truth was he was in love--wildly, passionately,
jealously in love. It nearly drove him to distraction to watch the way
in which, almost daily, this man Slosson drove out to see Hazel and
take her out for buggy rides or horse riding. Not only that, he and
her father were practically ignored by the man. They were just so much
furniture in the office, and when by any chance the agent did deign to
notice them there was generally something offensive in his manner of
address.
Worst of all, as the outcome of Hazel's campaign there were no signs
that matters were one whit advanced towards the successful completion
of their project, and the days had already grown into weeks. All
Gordon could do was to busy himself with formulating wild and
impossible schemes for beating this creature. And a hundred and one
strenuous possibilities occurred to him, all of which, however, offered
no suggestion of bending the man, only of breaking him. The sum and
substance of all his efforts was a deadly yearning to kill David
Slosson, kill him so dead as to spoil forever his chances of
resurrection.
This was much the position when, nearly three weeks later, in response
to a peremptory note from Slosson in the morning, Silas Mallinsbee
decided that Gordon should deal with him on a business visit in the
afternoon.
Oh yes, Gordon would interview him. Gordon would deal with him.
Gordon would love it above all things. Was he given a free hand?
But Mallinsbee smiled into the fiery eyes of the young giant and shook
his head, while Hazel looked on at the brewing storm with inscrutable
eyes of amusement.
"There's no free hand for anybody in this thing, Gordon, boy," said
Mallinsbee slowly. "And I don't guess there's any crematoriums or
undertakers' corporation around Snake's Fall. Anyway, Hip-Lee wouldn't
do a thing if you asked him to bury a white man."
"White man?" snorted Gordon furiously.
"Remember you're--fighting for my daddy as well as yourself, Mr. Van
Henslaer," said Hazel earnestly.
Gordon sighed.
"I'll remember," he said. And his two friends knew that the matter was
safe in his hands.
Left alone in his office, Gordon endured an unpleasant hour after his
dinner. It was not the thoughts of his coming interview that disturbed
him. It was Hazel. It was of her he was always thinking, when not
actually engaged upon any duty. Every day made his thoughts harder to
bear.
For awhile he sat before his desk, leaning back in his chair, gazing
blankly at the wooden wall opposite him. She was always the same to
him; his worst fits of temper seemed to make no difference. She only
smiled and humored or chided him as though he were some big, wayward
child. Then the next moment she would ride off with this vermin
Slosson, full of merry sallies and smiling graciousness, whom, he knew,
if she had any right feeling at all, she must loathe and despise.
Well, if she did loathe him, she had a curious way of showing it.
He thrust his chair back with an angry movement, and walked off into
the bedroom opening out of the office. He looked in. The neatness of
it, the scent of fresh air pouring in through its open window, meant
nothing to him. He saw none of the work of the guiding hand which, in
preparing it, had provided for his comfort. Hip-Lee kept it clean and
made his bed, the same as he cooked his food. It did not occur to
Gordon to whom Hip-Lee was responsible.
There were pictures on the walls, and it never occurred to Gordon that
these had been taken from Hazel's own bedroom at the ranch--for his
enjoyment. Nor was he aware that the shaving-glass and table had been
specially purchased by Hazel for his comfort. There were a dozen and
one little comforts, none of which he realized had been added to the
room since it had been set aside for his use.
He flung himself upon the bed, all regardless of the lace pillow-sham
which had once had a place on Hazel's own bed. He was in that frame of
mind when he only wanted to get through the hours before Hazel's sunny
presence again returned to the office. He was angry with her. He was
ready to think, did think, the hardest thoughts of her; but he longed,
stupidly, foolishly longed for her return, although he knew that, with
her return, fresh evidence of Slosson's attentions to her and of her
acceptance of them would be forthcoming.
He was only allowed another ten minutes in which to enjoy his moody
misery. At the end of that time he heard the rattle of wheels beyond
the veranda, and sprang from his couch with the battle light shining in
his eyes.
But disappointment awaited him. It was not Slosson who presented
himself. It was the altogether cheerful face of Peter McSwain which
appeared at the doorway.
"Say," he cried. Then he paused and glanced rapidly round the room.
"Ain't Mallinsbee around?" he demanded eagerly.
Gordon shook his head.
"Business?" he inquired. "If it's business I'm right here to attend to
it."
Peter hesitated.
"I s'pose you'd call it business," he said, after a considering pause,
during which he took careful stock of Mallinsbee's representative.
Then he went on, with a suggestion of doubt in his tone, "You deal with
his business--confidential?"
Gordon smiled in spite of his recent bitterness. He moved over to his
desk and sat down, at the same time indicating the chair opposite him.
As soon as McSwain had taken his seat Gordon leaned forward, gazing
straight into the man's always hot-looking face.
"See here, Mr. McSwain, we're at a deadlock for the moment, as maybe
you know. Later it'll straighten itself out. I can speak plainly to
you, because you're a friend of Mr. Mallinsbee, and you're interested
with us in this deal. I'm here to represent Mr. Mallinsbee in
everything, even to dealing with the railroad people, so anything
you've got to say, why, just go ahead. For practical purposes you are
talking to Mr. Mallinsbee."
The disturbed Peter sighed his relief.
"I'm glad, because what I've got to say won't keep. If you folks don't
get a cinch on that dago-lookin' Slosson feller the game's up. He's
askin' options up at Snake's. He's not buyin' the land yet, just
lookin' for options. Maybe you know I got two plots on Main Street,
besides my hotel. Well, he's made a bid for options on 'em for two
months. He says other folks are goin' to accept his offer. There's
Mike Callahan, the livery man. Slosson's been gettin' at him, too.
Mike come along and told me, and asked what he should do. I guessed
I'd run out and see Mallinsbee. If ther' ain't anything doin' here at
Buffalo, why, it's up to us to accept."
The man mopped his forehead with a gorgeous handkerchief. His eyes
were troubled and anxious. He felt he would rather have dealt with
Mallinsbee. This youngster didn't look smart enough to deal with the
situation.
Gordon was tapping the desk with a penholder. He was thinking very
hard. He knew that the definite movement had come at last, and that it
was adverse to their interests. This was the reply to Mallinsbee's
resolve. For the moment the matter seemed overwhelming. There seemed
to be no counter-move for them to make. Then quite suddenly he
detected a sign of weakness in it.
"Say," he demanded at last, "why does the man want options? I take it
options are to safeguard him _in case_ he wants to buy. This thing
looks better than I thought. He's guessing he may quarrel with us.
He's thinking maybe we won't come to terms. He's worrying that the
news of that will get around, and that, in consequence, up will go
prices in Snake's. That'll mean the railroad 'll have to pay through
the nose, and he'll get into trouble if they have to buy up there. You
see, the bedrock of this layout is--this place has to boom anyway, and
they've got to get in either here or at Snake's."
Peter rubbed his hands. His opinion of Gordon began to undergo
revision.
"Then what are we to do?" The anxiety in his eyes was lessening.
Gordon sprang from his seat, and brought one hand down on his desk with
a slam.
"Do? Why, let him go to hell. Refuse him any option," he cried
fiercely. "Here, I'll tell you what you do. And do it right away.
How do you stand with the folks up there?"
"Good. They mostly listen when I talk," said Peter, with some pride.
"Fine!" cried Gordon. "We'll roast him some. See here, I know you're
holding with us. I know Mike is, and several others. Your interests
are far and away bigger here than in Snake's. So you'll get busy right
away. You'll get all the boys together who've got interests here.
Tell 'em we've fallen out over the railroad deal with Slosson. Tell
'em to get the town together, and then let 'em explain about this
rupture. I'll guarantee the rupture's complete. Make 'em refuse all
options and boost their prices for definite sale, and threaten to raise
'em sky-high unless the railroad make a quick deal. Put a fancy figure
on your land at which he _daren't_ buy. You get that? Now I'll show
you how we'll stand. He's _got to come in on this place then_. He'll
have to buy at our price, because--_the railroad must get in_. You
must play the town folks who've got land there, but none here, to force
the prices up on the strength of our quarrel with the railroad, and
I'll guarantee that quarrel's complete this afternoon. Well?"
The last vestige of Peter's worry had disappeared. His eyes shone
admiringly as he gazed at the smiling face of the man who had conceived
so unscrupulous a scheme. He nodded.
"The railroad's got to get in," he agreed. "If they can't get in here
they've got to there. Offer him boom prices there, and if he
closes--which he _daren't_--we make our bits, anyway. If he don't,
then he's got to buy here _on your terms_, and--the depot comes here,
and the boom with it. Say, it's bright. An' you'll guarantee that
scrap up?"
"Sure."
Peter sprang to his feet.
"That's Mallinsbee's--word?"
"Absolutely."
The man's hot face became suddenly hotter, and his eyes shone.
"I'll get right back and we'll hold a meetin' to-night. Say, we've got
to fool those who ain't got interests here--they ain't more than fifty
per cent.--and then we'll send prices sky-high. You can bet on it, Mr.
Van Henslaer, sir. All it's up to you to do is to turn him down and
drive him our way. We'll drive him back to you. It's elegant."
Gordon gave a final promise as they shook hands when Peter had mounted
his buggy. Then the hotel proprietor drove off in high glee.
Gordon went back to his office without any sensation of satisfaction.
He had committed Mallinsbee to a definite policy that might easily fall
foul of that individual's ideas. But he had committed him, and meant
to carry the thing through against all opposition.
The cue had been too obvious for him to neglect. It was Slosson who
had made a false move. He was temporizing, instead of acting on a
fighting policy, and it was pretty obvious to him that his temporizing
was due to his growing regard for Hazel. The man was mad to ask for
options. He was a fool--a perfect idiot. No, the opportunity had been
too good to miss. If Slosson had shown weakness, he did not intend to
do so. Then, as he sat down and further probed the situation, a real
genuine sensation of satisfaction did occur. There would no longer be
any necessity for Hazel to attempt to play the man.
All in a moment he saw the whole thing, and a wild delight and
excitement surged through him. He was in the heart of a youngster's
paradise once more. The sun streaming in through the window was one
great blaze of heavenly light. The world was fair and joyous, and, for
himself, he was living in a palace of delight.
It was in such mood that he heard the approach of David Slosson.
The agent entered the office with all the arrogance of a detestable
victor. His first words set Gordon's spine bristling, although his
welcoming smile was amiability itself.
Slosson glanced round the room, and, discovering only Gordon, flung
himself into Mallinsbee's chair and delivered himself of his orders.
"Say, you best have your darned Chinaman take my horse around back an'
feed him hay. Where's Mallinsbee?"
Gordon assumed an almost deferential air, but ignored the order for the
horse's care.
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Mallinsbee won't be around this afternoon. He's
going up in the hills on a shoot," he lied shamelessly. "Maybe for a
week or two. Maybe only days."
"What in thunder? Say, was he here this morning? I sent word I was
coming along."
Slosson's black eyes had narrowed angrily, and his pasty features were
shaded with the pink of rising temper.
Gordon's eyes expressed simple surprise.
"Sure, he was here. Your note got along 'bout eleven. He guessed he
couldn't stop around for you. You see, a few caribou have been seen
within twenty miles of the ranch. They don't wait around for business
appointments."
Slosson brought one fist down on the arm of his chair, and in a burst
of anger almost shouted at the deferential Gordon.
"Caribou?" he exploded. "What in thunder is he chasin' caribou for
when there's things to be settled once and for all that won't keep?
Caribou? The man's crazy. Does he think I'm going to wait around
while he gets chasin'--caribou?"
Gordon maintained a perfect equanimity, but he wanted to laugh badly.
He felt he could afford to laugh.
"There's no need to 'wait around,'" he deferred blandly. "I am here to
act for Mr. Mallinsbee--absolutely. The entire affairs of the township
are in my hands, and I have his definite instructions how to proceed.
If you have any proposition to make I am prepared to deal with it."
For all his apparent deference a note had crept into Gordon's tone
which caught the suspicious ears of the railroad agent. He peered
sharply into the blue eyes of the man across the desk.
"You have absolute power to deal in Mallinsbee's interest?" he
questioned harshly.
"In _Mr._ Mallinsbee's interests," assented Gordon.
"Wal, what's his proposition?" The man's mustached upper lip was
slightly lifted and he showed his teeth.
"Precisely what it was when he first explained it to you."
The deference had gone out of Gordon's voice. Then, after the briefest
of smiling pauses, he added--
"That is in so far as the railroad is concerned. For your own personal
consideration his offer of sites to you remains the same as regards
price, but the selection of position will be made by--us."
Gordon was enjoying himself enormously. He had taken the law into his
own hands, and intended to put things through in his own way. He
expected an outburst, but none was forthcoming. David Slosson was
beginning to understand. He was taking the measure of this man. He
was taking other measures--the measure of the whole situation. Of a
sudden he realized that he was being told, in his own pet phraseology,
to--go to hell. He had consigned many people in that direction during
his life, but somehow his own consignment was quite a different matter,
especially through the present channel.
He pulled himself up in his chair and squared his shoulders truculently.
"I guess Mallinsbee knows what this means--for him?" he inquired
sharply, but coldly.
"I fancy _Mr._ Mallinsbee does."
"Now, see here, Mister--I ferget your name," Slosson cried, with sudden
heat. "I'm not the man to be played around with. If this is your
_Mister_ Mallinsbee's final offer, it just means that the railroad
can't do business with him. Which means also that his whole wild-cat
land scheme falls flat, and is so much waste ground, only fit for
grazing his rotten cattle on. I'm not here to mince words----"
"No," concurred Gordon in a steady, cold tone.
"I said I'm not here to mince words. If I can't get my original terms
there's nothing doing, and I'll even promise, seeing we're alone, to
get right out of my way to sew up this concern, lock, stock and barrel."
"That seems to be the obvious thing to do from your point of view--if
you can," said Gordon calmly. "Seeing that _Mr._ Mallinsbee is nearly
as rich as a railroad corporation, there may be difficulties. Anyway,
threats aren't business talk, and generally display weakness. So, if
you've no business to talk, if you don't feel like coming in on our
terms--why, that's the door, and I guess your horse is still waiting
for that hay you seemed to think just now he needed."
Gordon picked up a pen and proceeded deliberately to start writing a
letter. He felt that David Slosson had something to digest, and needed
time. All he feared now was that Mallinsbee or Hazel might come in
before he rid the place of this precious representative of the railroad.
After a few moments he glanced up from his letter.
"Still here?" he remarked, with upraised brows.
In a moment Slosson started from the brown study into which he had
fallen and leaped to his feet. His narrow black eyes were blazing.
His pasty features were ghastly with fury, and Gordon, gazing up at
him, found himself wondering how it came that the hot summer sun of the
prairie was powerless to change its hue.
The agent thrust out one clenched fist threateningly, and fairly
shouted at the man behind the desk--
"I'll make you all pay for this--Mallinsbee as well as you. You think
you can play me--me! You think you can play the railroad I represent!
I'll show you just what your bluff is worth. You, a miserable crowd of
land pirates! I tell you your land isn't worth grazing price without
our depot. And I promise you I'll break the whole concern----"
"Meanwhile," said Gordon, deliberately rising from his seat and moving
round his desk, "try that doorway, before I--break you. There it is."
He pointed. "Hustle!"
There comes a moment when the wildest temper reaches its limits. And
even the most furious will pause at the brick wall of possible physical
violence. David Slosson had spat out all his venom, or as much of it
as seemed politic. The threatening attitude of Gordon, his monumental
size and obvious strength, his cold determination, all convinced him
that further debate was useless. So he drew back at the "brick wall"
and negotiated the doorway as quickly as possible.
Two minutes later Gordon sighed in a great relief, and passed a hand
across his perspiring forehead. Slosson had passed out of view as
Mallinsbee, on the back of the great Sunset, appeared on the horizon.
"That was a close call," he muttered. "Two minutes more and the old
man might have spoiled the whole scheme."
Silas Mallinsbee's personality seemed to crowd the little office when,
five minutes later, he entered to find Gordon busy at his desk writing
a letter home to his mother.
Gordon displayed no sign of his recent encounter when he looked up.
His ingenuous face was smiling, and his blue eyes were full of an
obvious satisfaction. Mallinsbee read the signs and rumbled out an
inquiry.
"Slosson been around?"
Gordon nodded.
"Sure."
"Fixed anything?"
"Quite a--lot."
"You're lookin' kind of--happy?"
"Guess that's more than--Slosson was."
Mallinsbee's eyes became quite serious.
"I told Hazel just now I'd get along back. You see, I kind of
remembered you just weren't sweet on Slosson, and guessed after all I'd
best be around when he came. Hazel thought it might be as well, too.
Specially as she didn't want to sit around and find no Slosson turn up.
So----"
Gordon was on his feet in an instant. All his smile had vanished. A
look of real alarm had taken its place.
"She was waiting for that skunk? Where?" he demanded in a tone that
suddenly filled the father with genuine alarm.
"He was to go on to the coalpits after he was through here, and she was
to meet him there an' ride over to the young horse corrals where they
been breaking. She was to let him see the boys doin' a bit o' broncho
bustin'. What's----"
"The coalpits? That's the way he took. Say, for God's sake stay right
here--and let me use Sunset. I----"
But Gordon did not wait to finish what he had to say. He was out of
the house and had leaped into the saddle before Mallinsbee could
attempt to protest. The next moment he was galloping straight across
country in the direction of the Bude and Sideley's Coal Company's
workings.