SIGNED BY WILLIAM THORNTON
When Byers spoke Dodson looked hurriedly at his watch.
Hugh was the first to speak. “Who told you?”
“Jim Flynn. He hustled right down from Bald Knob.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“No. Our boys threw up their hands. Jumpers had the drop on ’em.”
“Flynn know any of the gunmen?”
“Sloan was one,” answered Byers.
McClintock turned to Dodson. “Do you pay yore gun-fighters by the job or
by the day?” he asked contemptuously.
“I don’t answer questions put that way, McClintock,” said Dodson
stiffly. “Your manner is an insult, sir.”
“It’s an insult if these roughs are not being paid by you. Can you tell
me that they’re not?” demanded Hugh, eyes cold as the steel-gray waters
of Lake Tahoe on a wintry morning.
“I’ll tell you nothing under compulsion, sir.”
“Which means that I’m right. You and yore brother are back of this
outrage. You think you can get away with our property by wholesale
bribery. I should think you’d know the men you’re fightin’ better than
that.”
“We ask for nothing that’s not ours. We don’t intend to let ourselves be
bulldozed out of anything that is.” The dark colour flashed into the
cheeks of Dodson. His anger, envenomed by months of repression, boiled
out of him as red-hot lava from a crater. “I’ll show you McClintocks
whether you run this state. If it takes every cent I’ve got in the world
I’ll ruin you both. To hear and see you a man would think you were in
partnership with God Almighty. You’ve got folks buffaloed. But not
me—not me!” He slammed his fist down hard on the table so that the lamp
jumped.
He whirled and strode from the room in a fury.
“War, looks like,” said Hugh, turning with a smile to his friends.
“I never knew him to lose his temper before,” said Vicky. “You spoke
pretty straight to him. Do you think that was wise?”
“Why not? He’s been our enemy for a long time. Might as well bring him
into the open.”
“He knew the claims were going to be jumped, you think?”
“Yes, but his machine slipped a cog. D’you see him look at his watch
when Dan told us? He knew what was on the programme, but it took place
earlier in the evenin’ than he had arranged for. That’s how I figure it
out, anyhow.”
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Vicky.
She knew that the history of the Nevada and California mining camps was
full of tragedies due to disputes over mining locations. Claim jumping
was not infrequent, and in a good many cases the jumpers finally won the
day. Usually the stronger characters won, regardless of the justice of
the case.
“We’re going to get our claims back,” Hugh replied.
Byers nodded. He was as decided on that point as his partner. The only
question was in what way.
Sheriff Budd, greatly excited, waddled in; Mrs. Budd was hard on his
heels.
“Hell’s hinges, boys!” he broke out. “Have you-all heard what them
scalawags have done pulled off?”
“I been expectin’ it,” Mrs. Budd announced calmly. She was a woman
impossible to surprise. She made a good wife and mother, but there were
moments when Jim wished she wouldn’t say “I told you so” quite as often
as she did.
“Then I hope you’re expectin’ us to re-jump ’em, Mrs. Budd,” Hugh said
with a grin.
They discussed ways and means. If possible, they meant to get back their
property without bloodshed.
“If this was Sloan’s play all we’d have to do would be to throw him out.
But there’s brains back of this move. We’re dealin’ with Ralph Dodson.
If we gain possession we still have the courts to reckon with. So we’ve
got to move carefully and see we don’t blunder into any mistake,” Hugh
said.
“You’re shoutin’, Kid,” the sheriff agreed. “It wouldn’t he’p us a whole
lot to go up to the Supreme Court with two-three killings on the record
against our title.”
They slept on their problem and discussed it again next day. Hugh sent
to Virginia City for Scot and a good lawyer. There were more
conferences. Out of them came one or two decisions. Scot, Hugh, and
their lawyer called at the office of the Katie Brackett and asked to see
Ralph Dodson. He was out, but his brother Robert was in. At first he
refused to meet them, but his visitors were so insistent that they would
not take no for an answer.
Dodson had them admitted to his office. Sloan sat beside him. Another
gunman was in the room. From the yellow-gray eyes of the mine owner a
furtive look slid round at the McClintocks and their lawyer.
“Now, looky here, Browning,” he said irritably to the lawyer, “there’s
no manner o’ use in you pesterin’ me. See Ralph. He’ll talk turkey with
you. I got nothin’ to do with this.”
“All we want is to see the paper you and Singlefoot Bill signed up.
We’re entitled to see it. You’ve jumped the Ground Hog and other claims
owned by my group of clients. We’d like to look over your title. Of
course we’re all anxious to avoid trouble. The only way to do that is to
let us know where you stand.”
Dodson listened sourly. But he was not a fool. He knew Browning could
get a court order to look at the paper. There was no real objection to
it, and when one is playing an underhanded game it is better to give an
impression of bluff frankness.
“You’ll gimme yore word not to keep the paper nor to injure it—you or
yore clients either?”
“Of course. This is business, not highway robbery.”
Dodson shot a slant look of warning at Sloan and went to the safe. He
returned with a sheet of foolscap paper upon which had been written an
agreement by which William Thornton, known as Singlefoot Bill,
relinquished all rights in certain designated patented mining claims on
Bald Knob to Robert and Ralph Dodson in consideration of three thousand
dollars now paid him in hand.
Browning copied the paper exactly, word for word, and comma for comma.
Meanwhile, Sloan, his gun in his hand, watched him and the McClintocks
every second of the time. Both brothers looked the contract over.
The lawyer pushed the paper back to Dodson. “Much obliged. Of course
it’s not worth the price of the ink on it, but you probably won’t be
satisfied of that till the courts have said so.”
“You can bet yore boots we make it good,” retorted Dodson, his dodging
eyes jumping to the men he hated so bitterly.
The three callers left the office. From the time they had entered it
till the time they left, the McClintocks had not said a word except in
asides to their lawyer.
“I don’t know on how solid a foundation their case rests,” Browning said
as they walked along Turkey Creek Avenue. “But it never does to
underestimate your opponents. First, we’ll check up and try to learn if
the claims ever were patented. Then we’ve got to find out all about that
contract, the circumstances under which it was signed, whether there was
any record of it made at Austin. We ought to be able to discover if old
Singlefoot showed any evidence of having money immediately after it was
signed. Think I’ll go to Austin and make some investigations.”
“Yes, let’s get to the bottom of it,” Scot agreed. “It looks fishy to me
that they’d pay Singlefoot three thousand for claims not worth a cent
then.”
“Especially when he had no valid title and all they had to do was to
relocate them,” added Hugh.
“Not like the Dodson way of doing business,” admitted Browning. “I don’t
know where the nigger in the woodpile is, but he’s there somewhere.”
“Think you’d better go to Austin with Mr. Browning, Scot,” Hugh said.
“You have so many friends there you might be able to find out something
important.”
Scot dropped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Want to cut me out of
the fun here, do you? Couldn’t think of leaving yet. But I’ll tell you
what I will do. I’ll join Browning at Austin soon as we’ve taken the
next trick.”
“Which is——?”
“To get possession of the Ground Hog and the other claims.”
“You ought not to figure in that, Scot,” the younger brother protested.
“You’re a public character now. You’ve got to look at the future.
Politically——”
“I’ve got to live with myself a few years, Hugh. How would I feel if I
ducked out and left you to handle this job? No, I’ll go through. It’s up
to us to use some strategy so as to get our properties back without
killing anybody. That’s what our brains are for.”
Hugh did not push his point. He knew when he was beaten.
“I’ve been millin’ over an idea that might work out,” he said.
“What is it?”
“I haven’t got it quite worked out yet. In an hour or two maybe I’ll
unload it from my mind.”
As soon as Browning had left them he sketched his plan to Scot.
Colonel McClintock’s eyes began to shine. “Ought to work out fine, if
the valley lies as you say. Let’s go right to it to-night.”
“To-night suits me,” said Hugh. “But we’ll have to hustle the
arrangements.”
They spent a busy day.