"How about Willy High Pockets--or Tiger?" demanded Higgins the instant
the ladies were out of hearing.
"Payne," said Garman, instantly dropping his air of affectation and
becoming the business man, "you've made a mistake in picking a chief
assistant with red hair. Damn it, man, don't you know it's a sign of
hot-headedness. Keep 'em down--foremen, crew handlers, perhaps; but as
executives, never!"
The veins were swelling in Higgins' thick neck and his face rivaled his
fiery poll in redness. He came toward Garman with quick, eager steps.
"Hey, Hig!" laughed Payne. "Are you going to prove that he's right?"
"I came to see you about that Indian, Payne," said Garman, dismissing
Higgins emphatically. "Not that I'm interested personally. Others
are. Didn't he come back to you?"
"No."
"You haven't seen him since?"
"No."
"All right; neither have I. He's gone back to his people probably;
Indians come and go. Now that will be all about Willy Tiger," he said
in a tone of finality.
"Payne, if you're going to stay here we'd better talk like business
men. I'm a business man."
"I try to be."
"Sure. No sense wasting any energy fighting. You're going to develop
your tract here?"
"Going to try to; yes."
Garman studied him with new intentness for a moment.
"And yet you look like you had business sense, too."
Payne made no reply.
"You know what a poor business proposition you've got, of course,"
continued Garman. "Even assuming that things are as you think they
are?"
"What things?"
Garman smiled slightly, a slow, amused smile.
"Payne, if I told you that I'm afraid you'd pull up stakes and get out
_pronto_."
Payne laughed.
"That would leave you broken-hearted, wouldn't it, Garman?"
"No-o-o," said Garman; "but it would--well it would deprive me of your
company. I'm a sociable animal, Payne. I crave company; I like to
have all sorts of people about me. Take Ramos, for instance; did you
ever see a more supercilious, sneaky, disagreeable specimen of the
half-breed Mexican? Neither have I. You, I suppose, wouldn't have him
'round you."
"Not if I was able to kick him away."
"Exactly; and thereby you would be depriving yourself of most excellent
entertainment, besides the services of a most useful servant."
"I haven't got any dirty work to be done, Garman."
Garman smoked deliberately for several seconds.
"Payne, once and for all, let this be understood between us: when I
have any dirty work to be done I do it myself, with these two hands.
Understand? Now, Ramos fancies himself in the supposed position of
bravo. Very amusing, I assure you----"
"I don't care about Ramos and your whims, Garman," Payne interrupted.
"Of course not. Why should you? But I'd be bored to death down here
if I didn't have people to play with----"
"Rot! You aren't the playing kind."
"My dear fellow," said Garman with a deep chuckle, "if I didn't have
lives to play with--other people's lives--I'd die of boredom. You're
young," he continued with a sudden touch of bitterness. "You're still
able to draw upon the old illusions to maintain your interest in life.
Ambition, work, achievement, success--Love! You're inexperienced
enough to pursue the old will-o'-the-wisps that Nature has planted in
man's instincts to keep him living till her purpose is served. Pah!
Payne, I've tried them all, won them all, and that--" he blew out a
great cloud of smoke--"that is more real and satisfying than all of
them put together."
"Have your liver examined," advised Payne; "that's probably what's the
matter with you."
Garman's Gargantuan burst of laughter rocked him in the saddle.
"Good boy! We'll have a lot of fun before we're through with one
another. But what a materialist you are for a young fellow, Payne!
What will you be at fifty if now you reduce psychological
manifestations to a common physical cause? Why, man, you ought to be
walking with your head in the clouds, dreaming of the one woman, the
Perfect Mate, and Love, which are to make your life complete. All
young fools of your age do it; why not you?"
"And so you play with other people's lives, do you?" said Payne, paying
no attention to the other's raillery. "And is that what you're
thinking of doing with mine?"
Garman tilted back his head and smiled through a smoke cloud. "Yes,"
he said softly; "unless you run away."
"Huh!"
"No, you aren't the running kind. That's what makes you interesting.
That's what will make you good fun. What could be more interesting
than seeing a young man like yourself want something so badly that he'd
give his life for it and then suddenly place the desired object far,
far beyond his reach. To watch his expression when he discovers that
he's lost. To see the change from hope to despair take place in his
eyes, to watch the illusions go, and the bitter truth about life take
possession of him. What will he do, say and look when he discovers
that the oyster of life is a hollow, empty, fraudulent shell?"
"You're raving, Garman!"
"Do you accept the challenge?"
"To the limit."
"Good boy! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. The girl would have
been worth while, but adding you, Payne, you glimpsing a dream of a
fool's paradise, will be glorious!"
"You talk like a damn fool," said Payne bluntly.
Garman nodded, and with the nod his strange mood passed and he was the
business man again.
"All right. That's all of that for the present. Now, what are you up
against? What are your biggest problems?"
"Thanks, but I am not placing myself entirely in your hands, Garman."
"That's right; play safe. But I'm talking business now. You're
tackling a hard job here. What can I do to help?"
"There's only one thing I want you to do, Garman; that's to keep your
hands off this job, and to keep your men from interfering with me and
my men and the job, or anything connected with it."
"That's settled. Anything else?"
"That's all. It will save trouble for both of us if you'll do that."
Garman dismissed the matter as settled with a nod, and gathered up his
reins.
"Doing anything next Sunday afternoon?"
Payne thought for a moment.
"Yes; next Sunday I'll be going down the river to Gumbo Key. The
ditching outfit that I've hired is due to arrive at the Key on Saturday
night. I promised to meet it and see it up the river. We'll start up
river Monday morning. I'll be on that dredger all the way up, Garman.
"Don't waste your time. There'll be no interference. In fact, if she
needs help you can borrow the old Cormorant for a tugboat."
"No, thanks. They do their own towing."
"All right. But there's no sense of your going down there and wasting
your whole Sunday on Gumbo Key. I suppose you'd do that; prejudice
against breaking the Sabbath and all that? I thought so; it goes with
the illusions. But there's no need for it this time--and I've been
specially ordered to invite you down to my little place for Sunday
afternoon. If you knew who issued the order you'd come, I know. It
will be sort of an affair to welcome you to our midst. Better come,
Payne; besides somebody you want to meet properly, there'll be a
certain man there you ought to meet. Sunday afternoon."
"Will Mrs. Livingstone be there?"
"Pooh! Pay no attention to that. She'll be tamed by Sunday. Come
about two. In the evening if you wish I'll have the Cormorant run you
down the river to Gumbo Key." He paused and with a flicker of a smile
added the words which he knew would evoke but one reply: "Of course if
you fear it's a trap----"
"At two Sunday afternoon?" said Roger.
"Right." Garman wheeled his horse and loped away without another word.