Mr. Oscar Mitchell was a bachelor, though not precisely lorn. He
maintained an elm-shaded residence on Front Street, presided over by an
ancient housekeeper, of certain and gusty disposition, who had guided his
first toddling steps and grieved with him for childhood's insupportable
wrongs, and whose vinegarish disapprovals were still feared by Mitchell;
it was for her praise or blame that his overt walk and conversation were
austere and godly, his less laudable activities so mole-like.
After dinner Mr. Mitchell slipped into a smoking jacket with a violent
velvet lining and sat in his den--a den bedecorated after the manner
known to the muddle-minded as artistic, but more aptly described by Sir
Anthony Gloster as "beastly." To this den came now the sprightly clerk,
summoned by telephone.
"Sit down, Pelman. I sent for you because I desire your opinion and
cooperation upon a matter of the first importance," said the lawyer,
using his most gracious manner.
Mr. Joseph Pelman, pricking up his ears at the smooth conciliation of eye
and voice, warily circled the room, holding Mitchell's eyes as he went,
selected a corner chair for obvious strategic reasons, pushed it against
the wall, tapped that wall apprehensively with a backward-reaching hand,
seated himself stiffly upon the extreme edge of the chair, and faced his
principal, bolt upright and bristling with deliberate insolence.
"If it is murder I want a third," he remarked.
The lawyer gloomed upon this frowardness.
"That is a poor way to greet an opportunity to make your fortune once and
for all," he said. "I have something on hand now, which, if we can swing
it--"
"One-third," said the clerk inflexibly.
Mitchell controlled himself with a visible effort. He swallowed hard and
began again:
"If we can carry out my plan successfully--and it seems to be safe, and
certain, and almost free from risk--there will be no necessity hereafter
for any of us to engage in any crooked dealings whatever. Indeed, to take
up cleanly ways would be the part of wisdom. Or, young as you are, you
will be able to retire, if you prefer, sure of every gratification that
money can buy."
"Necessity doesn't make me a crook. I'm crooked by nature. I like
crookedness," said Pelman. "That's why I'm with you."
"Now, Joey, don't talk--"
"Don't you 'Joey' me!" exploded the demon clerk. "It was 'fool' this
afternoon. I'm Pelman when there's any nerve needed for your schemes; but
when you smile at me and call me Joey, what I say is--one-third!"
"You devil! I ought to wring your neck!"
"Try it! I'll stab your black heart with a corkscrew! I've studied it all
out, and I've carried a corkscrew on purpose ever since I've known you.
Thirty-three and one-third per cent. Three-ninths. Proceed!"
Mitchell paced the floor for a few furious seconds before he began again.
"You remember Mayer Zurich, whom we helped through that fake bankruptcy
at Syracuse?"
"Three-ninths?"
"Yes, damn you!"
Joey settled back in his chair, crossed his knees comfortably, screwed
his face to round-eyed innocence, and gave a dainty caress to the thin
silky line of black on his upper lip.
"You may go on, Oscar," he drawled patronizingly.
After another angry turn, Mitchell resumed with forced composure:
"Zurich is now a fixture in Cobre, Arizona, where my Cousin Stanley
lives. I had a letter from him a week ago and he tells me--this is in
strict confidence, mind you--that poor Stanley is in jail."
Joey interrupted him by a gentle waving of a deprecatory hand.
"Save your breath, Oscar dear, and pass on to the main proposition. Now
that we are partners, in manner of speaking, since your generous
concession of a few minutes past--about the thirds--I must be very
considerate of you."
As if to mark the new dignity, the junior partner dropped the crude and
boisterous phrases that had hitherto marked his converse. Mitchell
recognized the subtle significance of this change by an angry gesture.
"Since our interests are now one," continued the new member suavely,
"propriety seems to demand that I should tell you the Mitchell-Zurich
affair has no secrets from me. If young Stanley is in prison, it is
because you put him there!"
"What!"
"Yes," said Joey with a complacent stroke at his upper lip. "I have
duplicate keys to all your dispatch boxes and filing cabinets."
"You fiend!"
"I wished to protect you against any temptation toward ingratitude,"
explained Joey. "I have been, on the whole, much entertained by your
correspondence. There was much chaff--that was to be expected. But there
was also some precious grain which I have garnered with care. For
instance, I have copies of all Zurich's letters to you. You have been
endeavoring to ruin your cousin, fearing that McClintock might relent and
remember Stanley in his will; you have succeeded at last. Whatever new
villainy you have to propose, it now should be easier to name it, since
you are relieved from the necessity of beating round the bush.--You were
saying--?"
"Stanley has found a mine, a copper deposit of fabulous richness; so he
writes, and so Zurich assures me. Zurich has had a sample of it assayed;
he does not know where the deposit is located, but hopes to find it
before Stanley or Stanley's partner can get secure possession. Zurich
wants me to put up cash to finance the search and the early development."
"Well? Where do I come in? I am no miner, and I have no cash. I am eating
husks."
"You listen. Singularly enough, Stanley has sent his partner up here to
make me exactly the same proposition."
"That was Stan's partner to-day--that old gray goat?"
"Exactly. So, you see, I have two chances."
"I need not ask you," said Joey with a sage nod, "whether you intend to
throw in your lot with the thieves or with the honest men. You will flock
with the thieves."
"I will," said Mitchell grimly. "My cousin had quite supplanted me with
my so-called Uncle McClintock. The old dotard would have left him every
cent, except for that calf-love affair of Stan's with the Selden girl.
Some reflections on the girl's character had come to McClintock's ears."
"Mitchell," said Joey, "before God, you make me sick!"
"What's the matter with you now, fool?" demanded Mitchell. "I never so
much as mentioned the girl's name in McClintock's hearing."
"Trust you!" said the clerk. "You're a slimy toad, you are. You're
nauseatin'. Pah! Ptth!"
"McClintock repeated these rumors to Stan," said the lawyer gloatingly.
"Stan called him a liar. My uncle never liked me. It is very doubtful if
he leaves me more than a moderate bequest, even now. But I have at least
made sure that he leaves nothing to Stan. And now I shall strip his mine
from him and leave him to rot in the penitentiary. For I always hated
him, quite aside from any thought of my uncle's estate. I hate him for
what he is. I always wanted to trample his girl-face in the mire."
"Leave your chicken-curses and come to the point," urged the junior
member of the firm impatiently. "It is no news to me that your brain is
diseased and your heart rotten. What is it you want me to do? Calm
yourself, you white-livered maniac. I gather that I am in some way to
meddle with this mine. If I but had your head for my very own along with
the sand in my craw, I'd tell you to go to hell. Having only brains
enough to know what I am, I'm cursed by having to depend upon you. Name
your corpse! Come through!"
"You shut your foul mouth and listen. You throw me off."
"Give me a cigar, then. Thanks. I await your pleasure."
"Zurich warned me that Stanley's partner, this old man Johnson, had gone
East and would in all probability come here to bring proposals from Stan.
He came yesterday, bearing a letter of introduction from Stan. The fear
that I would not close with his proposition had the poor old gentleman on
needles and pins. But I fell in with his offer. I won his confidence and
within the hour he had turned himself wrong side out. He made me a map,
which shows me how to find the mine. He thinks I am to go to Arizona with
him in a week--poor idiot! Instead, you are to get him into jail at
once."
"How?"
"The simplest and most direct way possible. You have that Poole tribe
under your thumb, have you not?"
"Bootlegging, chicken-stealing, sneak-thieving, arson, and perjury. And
they are ripe for any deviltry, without compulsion. All I need to do is
to show them a piece of money and give instructions."
"Get the two biggest ones, then--Amos and Seth. Have them pick a fight
with the man Johnson and swear him into jail. They needn't hurt him much
and they needn't bother about provocation. All they need to do is to
contrive to get him in some quiet spot, beat him up decently, and swear
that Johnson started the row without warning; that they never saw him
before, and that they think he was drunk. Manage so that Johnson sees
the inside of the jail by to-morrow at luncheon-time, or just after, at
worst; then you and I will take the afternoon train for Arizona--with my
map. I have just returned from informing my beloved uncle of Stanley's
ignominious situation, and I told him I could go to the rescue at once,
for the sake of the family honor. I thought the old fool would throw
a fit, he was so enraged. So, good-bye to Nephew Stanley!"
"Look here, Mr. Oscar; that's no good, you know," remonstrated Pelman.
"What's the good of throwing Johnson into jail for five or ten days--or
perhaps only a fine? He may even have letters from Stan to some one else
in Vesper, some one influential; he may beat the case. He'll be out there
in no time, making you trouble. That old goat looks as if he might butt."
Mitchell smiled.
"That's only half my plan. The jailer is also one of your handy men. I'll
furnish you plenty of money for the Pooles and for the jailer--enough to
make it well worth their while. Contrive a faked rescue of Johnson. The
jailer can be found trussed up and gagged, to-morrow about midnight. Best
have only one of the Pooles in it; take Amos. He shall wear a mask and be
the bold rescuer; he shall open the cell door, whisper 'Mitchell' to
Johnson, and help him escape. Once out, without taking off his mask, Amos
can hide Johnson somewhere. I leave you to perfect these details. Then,
after discarding his mask, Poole can give the alarm. It is immaterial
whether he rouses the undersheriff or finds a policeman; but he is to
give information that he has just seen Johnson at liberty, skulking near
such-and-such a place. Such information, from a man so recently the
victim of a wanton assault at Johnson's hands, will seem a natural act."
"Mr. Mitchell, you're a wonder!" declared Joey in a fine heat of
admiration. As the lawyer unfolded his plan the partner-clerk, as a
devotee of cunning, found himself convicted of comparative unworth; with
every sentence he deported himself less like Pelman the partner, shrank
more and more to Joey the devil clerk. "The first part of your programme
sounded like amateur stuff; but the second number is a scream. Any
mistreated guy would fall for that. I would, myself. He'll be up against
it for jail-breaking, conspiracy, assaulting an officer, using deadly
weapons--and the best is, he will actually be guilty and have no kick
coming! Look what a head that is of yours! Even if he should escape
rearrest here, it will be a case for extradition. If he goes back to
Arizona, he will be nabbed; our worthy sheriff will be furious at the
insult to his authority and will make every effort to gather Mr. Johnson
in. Either way you have Johnson off your shoulders."
"Stanley is off my shoulders, too, and good for a nice long term. And I
have full directions for reaching Stanley's mine. You and I, in that wild
Arizona country, would not know our little way about; we will be wholly
dependent upon Zurich; and, therefore, we must share our map with him.
But, on the whole, I think I have managed rather well than otherwise.
It may be, after this bonanza is safely in our hands, that we may be able
to discover some ultimate wizardry of finance which shall deal with
Zurich's case. We shall see."