He took shelter within the black mouth of a short tunnel by the trail and looked out at his little world–the huge mill, dimly lighted, the gaunt gallows-frame against the sky, and the sleeping town below. He had made them his own and now he must fight for them; and watch over them, day and night. Above him the stars shone out clean and cold, a million of them in the dry, desert air; and in the east the half moon rose up slowly above Gold Hill, where the wealth of ages lay hid. It had given up its gold but his hand had struck the blow that would open up its treasure vaults of tungsten. All it needed now was watchfulness and patience. The moon rose up higher and he dozed within the shadow and then a sound brought him to with a start. It was the crunch of gravel on the trail before him and as he looked out he saw Virginia.
196CHAPTER XXII
Virginia Explains–nothing
She was covered by a cloak and there was a man’s hat on her head, but Wiley knew her–it was Virginia Huff. The moon had mounted high and the chill of the morning was in the air, so he could hardly flatter himself that she had come to see him. Perhaps it was just to see the mine. But if, beneath that cloak, she carried some instrument of destruction–he stepped out and watched her covertly. She tiptoed up the trail, glancing nervously about her, starting back as a trammer dumped his ore; and then, very slowly, she crept past his house and disappeared in the direction of the mill. Instantly he whipped out of his tunnel and started after her, running swiftly up the trail; but as he neared the summit she came catapulting against him, running as swiftly the other way.
“Here! Stop!” he commanded as she leapt back with a stifled scream and then as she made a dash he plunged resolutely after her and caught her like a child.
“You let go of me!” she panted, but he flung 197one arm about her and held both her hands to her side.
“No,” he said, and she struck out violently only to find herself clutched the tighter.
“Wiley Holman!” she exploded, “if you don’t let me go! You’d better–I saw a man back there!”
“It’s my watchman,” answered Wiley. “I keep him to guard the mill. But what are you doing up here?”
“No! It wasn’t! It was Stiff Neck George! And he had something heavy in his hand! You’d better go and watch him!”
She was struggling in his arms, her breath hot against his cheek, fear and rage in every word, but he crushed her roughly to his side.
“Never mind about George,” he said. “What are youdoing up here, now?”
“But he’ll blow up your mine! I’ve heard him threaten to! I just came up to tell you!”
“Oh, that’s different!” returned Wiley, relaxing his grip, “but never mind–my watchman will get him.”
“No! The watchman is asleep–I didn’t see him anywhere! Oh, Wiley; please run and stop him!”
“Nope,” replied Wiley, “he can blow the whole mill up–I want to ask you a question.”
He released her reluctantly, for the touch of her had thrilled him, and the sweetness of her breath on his cheek–but she darted down the trail like a rabbit.
198“Here! Wait!” he ordered and outran her in ten jumps, at which she stooped and snatched up a rock.
“Put that down!” he said, and as she swung back the rock, he braved it and caught her anyway. “Now,” he went on, trembling from the smash of the blow, but holding her in a grip of steel, “we’ll see what all this is about!”
“You will not!” she hissed back, “because I won’t answer you a word! And I hope old George ruins your mill!”
“That’s all right,” he said, shaking his bloody head, “but, Judas, you did smash me with that stone! After that, I guess, I’ve got something coming to me!” And he reached down and kissed her lips.
“You–stop!” she panted. “Oh, I–I’ll kill you for that!” But Wiley only laughed recklessly.
“All right!” he said, “what’s the difference–I’d die happy! I almost wish you’d hit me again.”
“Well, I will!” she threatened, but when he released her she drew back and hung her head. “That isn’t fair,” she said, “you know I can’t protect myself, and─”
“Well, all right,” he agreed, “we’ll call it square then. But–I want to tell you something, Virginia.”
“Are you going to stand here,” she burst out sharply, “and let him blow up your mill?”
“Yes, I am,” he answered. “I don’t care what happens to me if you and I can be friends. I 199love you, Virginia, you know it as well as I do, and that’s all I want in the world. Let’s just be friends, the way we used to be when we were playing around town together. I’ve been trying to see you for months–it’s seemed like forty years–and Virginia, you’ve got to listen to me!”
He paused and drew nearer, and she stood waiting passively, as if daring him to touch her again; but he stooped and peered into her face. The night was not dark and in the ghostly moonlight he could see the cold anger in her eyes.
“Yes, I know,” he said, “you hate me like poison–but Virginia, this is going too far. It’s all right to hate me, if that’s the way you’re built, but you ought to give me a chance. It looks very much as if you’d come up here to-night to do some damage to my mine; but I’ll let that pass and say nothing about it if you’ll only give me a chance. Let me tell you how I feel and then, some other time─”
“Well, go on,” she said, “but if your old mine blows up─”
“I wish it would!” he burst out passionately. “If it would make any difference, I wish it was blown off the map. I can’t bear to fight you, Virginia; it makes my life miserable, and I’ve tried to be friendly from the first. But is it right to blame a man for something he can’t help and not even give him a chance to explain? If you think I’ve stolen your mine, why, go ahead and say so and let me give it back. I’ll do it, so help me God, if you’ll only say the word.”
200“What word?” she asked, and he threw out his hands in a helpless appeal to her pity.
“Any word,” he said, “so long as it’s friendly. But I just can’t stand it to be without you!”
“Oh,” she said, and looked back up the trail as if meditating another dash to escape.
“Well, what is it?” he asked at last. “Won’t you even listen to me? I’ve got a plan to propose.”
“Why, certainly,” she responded, “go ahead and tell it. And then, when it’s done, can I go?”
“Yes, you can go,” he answered eagerly, “if you’ll only just listen reasonably and think what this means to us both. We used to be friends, Virginia, and while I was working up this deal I did everything I could to help you. I didn’t have much money then or I’d have done more for you, but you know my heart was right. I wasn’t trying to take advantage of you. But the minute I got the mine it seems as if everybody turned against me–and you turned against me, too. That hurt me, Virginia, after what I’d tried to do for you, but I know you had your reasons. You blamed me for things that I never had done and–well, you wouldn’t even speak to me. But that was all right–it was perfectly natural–and on Christmas I sent you back your stock. I only bought it from Charley to help you get to Los Angeles, and I considered that I was holding it in trust; so I sent it back by Charley, but I suppose he made some break, because I found it on 201my table that night. But you’ll take it back now; won’t you, Virginia?”
His voice broke like a boy’s in the earnestness of his appeal and yet it was hopeless, too, for he saw that she stood unmoved. He waited for an answer, then as she shifted her feet impatiently he went on with dogged persistence. It was useless, he knew it; and yet, sometime in the future, she might recall what he had said and take advantage of it.
“Well, all right, then,” he assented, “but the stock’s yours if you want it. I’m holding it for you, in trust. But now here’s what I wanted to tell you–I’d hoped we could do it together; but you ought to do it, anyway. You know that stock that your mother lost to Blount? Well, I know how you can get it back.”
He paused for her to speak, to exclaim perhaps at his magnanimity in offering to help her against her will, but she shrouded herself pettishly in her cloak.
“Oh, you don’t care, eh?” he asked with a bitter laugh. “Well, I wish to God, then, I didn’t. But I do, Virginia! I can’t stand it to see you slaving when there’s anything in the world that I can do. Now here’s the proposition: according to law your father isn’t legally dead–he won’t be for seven years–and so your mother, not being his heir yet, had no right to hypothecate that stock. It still belongs to your father’s estate and all you have to do is to go to a lawyer and demand 202the property back. You’re his daughter, you see, and a co-heir with your mother, and Blount will not dare to oppose it!”
“Yes, thanks,” returned Virginia. “Is that all?”
“Why–no!” he said at last, clutching his hands at his side. “There’s–I’ll lend you the money, Virginia.”
“No, thank you!” she answered, and started off down the trail, but he stepped in her way and stopped her. His mood had changed, for his voice was rough and threatening, but he struggled to keep it down.
“Is that all?” he demanded and without waiting for the answer he reached out and caught her by the arm. “Virginia,” he said, “I’ve tried to be good to you, but maybe you don’t appreciate it. And maybe I’ve made a mistake. There’s something about you when I’m around that reminds me of a man with a grouch–only a man would speak out his mind. Now I’ve given you a chance to clean up twenty thousand dollars and I expect something more than: ‘No, thanks!’”
“Well, what doyou expect?” she asked, struggling feebly against his grasp.
“I expect,” he answered, “that you’ll state your grievance and tell me why you won’t have me?”
“And if I do, will you let me go?”
“When I get good and ready,” he responded grimly. “I don’t know whether I’m in love with you or not.”
“Well, my grievance,” she went on defiantly, 203“is that you went to work deliberately and robbed me and mother of our mine. And as for winning me, that’s one thing you can’t steal–and I’ll kill you if you don’t let go of that hand!”
“Yes,” he said, “I’ve heard that before–it seems to run in the family. But don’t you think for a minute that I’m afraid of getting killed–or that I’m trying to steal you, either. If you were an Indian squaw you might be worth stealing, because I could beat a little sense into your head; but the way things are now I’ll just turn you loose–and kindly keep off my ground.”
He flung back her hand and stepped out of the trail but Virginia did not pass. Her breast heaved tumultuously and she turned upon him as she sought for a fitting retort; but while they stood panting, each glowering at the other, there was a crash from inside the old mill. Its huge bulk was lit up by a flash of light which went out in Stygian darkness and as they listened, aghast, the ground trembled beneath them and a tearing roar filled the air. It began at the stone-breaker and went down through the mill, like the progress of a devastating host, and as Wiley sprang forward, there was a terrifying smash which seemed to shake the mill to its base. Then all was silent and as he looked around he saw Virginia dancing off down the trail.
204CHAPTER XXIII
On Demand
If there was anything left of his mill but the frame, Wiley’s ears had played him false; and yet he stood and looked after Virginia. This grinding crash, this pandemonium of destruction which had left him sick with fear, had put joy into her dancing feet. Yes, she had danced–like a child that hears good news or runs to meet its father–and he had thought her worthy of his love! He had battered his brain for weeks to devise some plan whereby he could make his peace; he had taken her blows like a dog; and she had answered with this. Whether it was Stiff Neck George or some other man, she had known both his presence and his purpose; and now she rejoiced in the catastrophe. A hundred dollars would buy him a squaw more worthy of confidence and love.
There was darkness in the mill, but when they brought the flares, Wiley saw that the ruin was complete. From the rock breaker to the concentrators there was nothing but splintered wood, twisted iron and upturned tanks; and the demon of destruction which had raged down through its length was nothing but the fly-wheel of the rock 205crusher. What power had uprooted it he was at a loss to conjecture but, a full ton in weight, it had jumped from its frame and plowed its way down through the mill. The ore-bins were intact, for the fly-wheel had overleapt them, but tables and tanks and concentrating jigs were utterly smashed and ruined. Even the wall of the mill had given way before it and the cold light of dawn crept in through a jagged aperture that marked its resistless course. The fly-wheel was gone and the damage was done; but there was still, of course, the post mortem. What had caused that massive shafting, with its ponderous speeding wheels, to leap from its bearings and go crashing down the descent, laying everything before it in ruins? Wiley summoned his engineer and, in the shattered jaws of the rock-breaker, they found the innocent-looking instrument of destruction. It was not a stick of dynamite, but a heavy steel sledge-hammer that had been cast into the jaws of the crusher. They had closed down upon it, the hammer had resisted, and then all the momentum of that whirling double fly-wheel had been brought to bear against it. Yet the hammer could not be crushed and, as the wheel had applied its weight, the resistance to its force had caused it to leap from its bearings and go hurtling down the incline.
It was a very complete job, even better than dynamiting, and yet Wiley did not blame it on Stiff Neck George. Some miner, some millman, who had seen it done before, had repeated the 206performance for his benefit. Or was it, perhaps, for Virginia’s? He remembered the engineer who had fed his greasy overalls into the gearings of the hoist. He had boarded with Virginia and had waved her a parting kiss–but this time it would be some trammer. Wiley gave them all their time on general principles, but he did not go down to witness the farewell. Whether the trammer kissed her good-by or simply kissed her hand was immaterial to him now–and, in case it might have been a millman or some miner underground, he laid off the whole night shift. The night-watchman went too, and the stage the following evening brought out a cook to start up the boarding-house.
Wiley did not guess it–he knew it–Virginia Huff was the witch who had mixed the hell-broth that had raised up all this treachery against him. She had poisoned his men’s minds and incited them to vandalism, but it would not happen again. He had been a fool to endure it so long; but she could starve now, for all that he cared. If she thought she could twist him like a ring around her finger while she egged on these men to wreck his mill, she had one more guess coming and then she would be right, for he had come to his senses at last. This was not the Virginia that he had known and loved–the Virginia he had played with in his youth–but a warped and embittered Virginia, a waspish, heartless vixen who had never been anything but cold. She had worked him deliberately, resorting to woman’s wiles to gain what was not her due, 207and now when his mill was smashed into kindling wood, she danced and laughed for joy.
What kind of a mind could a woman have, to do such a senseless thing and then laugh at the man who had helped her? She was kind to her cats, the neighbors all liked her, to everyone else she seemed human; but when it came to him she was a devil of hate, a fiend of ruthless cunning. She would tell him to his face–at three in the morning, when he had caught her running away from the mill–that she hoped his old mill would be ruined. And now, when the trammer or some other soft-head had sent one of his sledges through the crusher, she was laughing up her sleeve. But there was a hereafter coming for Virginia and her mother and they would get no more favors from him. If they crept to his feet and said they were starving he would tell them to get out and hustle. Meanwhile they had sent him broke.
There would be no more ore concentrated in the Paymaster mill during the life of his bond and lease; and unless he could raise some money, and raise it quick, he was due to lose his mine. Whether he had abetted it or not, Blount would not fail to take advantage of this last, staggering blow to his fortunes; and there were notes and paper due which would easily serve as a pretext for a writ of attachment on his mine. Bad news travels fast, but Wiley set out to beat it by snatching at his one remaining chance. His mill was ruined, his output was stopped, but he still had the ore underground–and the 208buyers were crazy to get it. He sent out identical messages to ten big consumers and then sat down to await the results. They came with a rush, ten scrambling frantic bids for his total output for one year–and one of them was for eighty-four dollars! It was from the biggest buyer of them all, a man who was reputed to be the representative of a foreign government, a man who had paid cash on the nail. Wiley pondered a while, looked up his obligations to Blount, and accepted immediately by wire. But there was one proviso–he demanded an advance payment, which the buyer promptly wired to his bank. Then Wiley twisted up his lip and waited.
Blount appeared the next day, dropping in casually as was his wont; but there was a cold, killing look in his eye and he had a deputy sheriff as a witness. They looked through the mill and Blount asked several leading questions before he ventured to come to the point, but at last he cleared his throat and spoke up.
“Well, Wiley,” he said, drawing some papers from his pocket, “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to call your notes. If it were my money it would be different; but I’m a banker, you understand, and your paper is long overdue. I’ve extended it before because I admired your courage and thought you might possibly pull through, but this accident to your mill has impaired the property and I can’t let it run any longer.”
209“Oh, that’s all right,” said Wiley, “but you don’t need to apologize, because there won’t be any attachments and judgments. Just tell me how much it comes to and I’ll write you out a check.” He took the notes from Blount’s palsied hand and spread them on the desk before him, but as he was jotting down the totals Blount grabbed them wildly away.
“Not much!” he exclaimed, “I don’t surrender those notes until the money is put in my hands! Your check isn’t worth a pen stroke!”
“Well, I don’t know,” returned Wiley. “There may be two opinions about that. I had a hunch, Mr. Blount, that you might spring something like this and so I made arrangements to accommodate you.”
“But you’re strapped! You owe everybody!” cried Blount in a passion. “I don’t believe you’ve got a cent!”
“Just a minute,” said Wiley, and took down his telephone. “Hello,” he called, “get me the First National Bank.” He waited then, twiddling his pencil placidly, while Blount’s great neck swelled out with venom. “I figure,” went on Wiley, as he waited for the connection, “that I owe you twenty-two thousand dollars, with interest amounting to two-eighty-three, sixty-one. Here’s your check, all filled out, and when I get the bank you can ask the cashier if it’s good.”
“But, Wiley–,” began Blount.
210“Hello! Hello! Is this the First National? This is Holman, out at the Paymaster. Mr. Blount is here and, as I’m closing my account with him─”
“No! No!” cried Blount in a panic, but Wiley went on with his talk.
“Yes,” he said, “the check is for twenty-two thousand, two eighty-three, sixty-one. Will you please set that amount aside to meet the payment on this check? All right, Mr. Blount, here’s the bank.”
He held out the instrument and Blount seized it roughly, for he had heard of fake telephone messages before, but when he listened he recognized the voice.
“Oh, Agnew?” he hailed, smiling genially at the ’phone. “Well, sorry to have troubled you, I’m sure. Oh, yes, yes; I know Wiley is all right; he’s good with us for twenty thousand more. No, never mind the certification; we may let the matter drop. Yes, thank you very much–good-by!”
He hung up the receiver and turned to Wiley; but the cold, killing look was gone.
“Wiley,” he chuckled, slapping him heartily on the back, “you certainly have put one over. It isn’t every day that I find a man waiting with the check all made out to a cent; and somehow–well, I hate to take the money.”
“Yes, I know how you suffer,” replied Wiley, grimly, “but let’s get the agony over.” He held 211out the check and Blount accepted it reluctantly, passing over the notes with a sigh.
But for the trifling detail that “demand” had not been waived Blount could have gone into court without even asking for his money and secured an attachment against the property. But Wiley’s firm insistence that all cut-throat clauses should be omitted had compelled Blount to demand payment on the notes; and then, by some process which still remained a mystery, he had raised the full amount to meet the payment. And so once more, after going to all the trouble of bringing a deputy sheriff along, Blount found himself balked and his dreams of judgment and lien permanently banished to the limbo of lost hopes.
Wiley’s over-prompt payment had confused Blount for the moment and thrown him into a panic. He had counted confidently upon crushing him at a blow and cutting short his inimical activities, but now of a sudden he found himself threatened with the loss of all his interests. If Wiley had made profits beyond his calculations–but no, he could not, for under the terms of their bond and lease one-tenth of the net profit on all his shipments was sent direct to Blount. And if what Wiley had received was only ten times the Company’s royalty, he was still in debt to someone. Blount had followed him closely and he knew that his expenses had absorbed all his profits, up to date. But perhaps–and Blount paused–perhaps the other bank, 212or some outside parties, were backing him in his enterprise. He would have to look that matter up–first. But if not–if he was still running his mine as he had from the first, on his nerve and his diamond ring–then there were ways and means which should be speedily invoked to prevent him from meeting his payments.
Scarcely a month remained before the bond and lease lapsed–and Wiley’s option on Blount’s personal stock–but any day he might raise the money and, by taking over Blount’s stock, place him out of the running for good. These tungsten buyers who were so avid for its product might purchase an interest in the mine; they might advance the fifty thousand and take it over under the bond and lease, and bring all his plans to naught. As Blount paced about the office he suddenly saw himself defrauded of that which he had worked for for years. He saw his stock bought up first, to deprive him of the royalties, and then the mine snatched from his hands; and all he would have left would be the forfeited Huff stock and the small payment it would earn from the sale. Something would have to be done, and done every minute, to prevent him from carrying out his purpose.
Blount paused in his nervous pacing and held out a flabby hand to Wiley, who was writing away at his desk.
“Well, Wiley,” he said, “I guess I must be 213going. But any time you need money─” He stopped and smiled amiably, in the soft, easy way he had when he wished to appear harmless as a dove, and Wiley glanced up briefly from his work.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Blount,” he said. But he did not take his hand.
214CHAPTER XXIV
Double Trouble
The next two weeks of Wiley Holman’s life were packed so full of trouble that there were those who almost pitied him, though the word had been passed around to lay off. It was Samuel J. Blount who was making the trouble, and who notified the rest to keep out, and so great was his influence in all the desert country that no one dared to interfere. What he did was all legal and according to business ethics, but it gloved the iron hand. Blount was reaching for the mine and he intended to get it, if he had to crush his man. The attachments and suits were but the shadow boxing of the bout; the rough stuff was held in reserve. And somehow Wiley sensed this, for he sat tight at the mine and hired a lawyer to meet the suits. His job was mining ore and he shoveled it out by the ton.
The distressing accidents had suddenly ceased since he began to board his own men at the mine and, while his lawyer stalled and haggled to fight off an injunction, he rushed his ore to the railroad. It was too precious to ship loose, for at eighty-four 215dollars a unit it was worth over four dollars a pound; he sent it out sacked, with an armed guard on each truck to see that it was delivered and receipted for. As the checks came back he paid off all his debts, thus depriving Blount of his favorite club; and then, while Blount was casting about for new weapons, he began to lay aside his profits.
They rolled up monstrously, for each five-ton truck load added several thousand dollars to his bank account, but the time was getting short. Less than three weeks remained before the bond and lease expired, and still Wiley was playing to win. He crammed his mine with men, snatching the ore from the stopes as the bonanza leasers had done at Tonopah, and doubling the miner’s pay with bonuses. Every truck driver received his bonus, and night and day the great motors went thundering across the desert. The ore came up from below and was dumped on a jig, where it was sorted and hastily sacked; and after that there was nothing to do but sent it under guard to the railroad. There was no milling, no smelting, no tedious process of reduction; but the raw picked ore was rushed to the East and the checks came promptly back.
Blount was fully informed now of the terms of his contract and of the source of his sudden wealth, but there was no way of reaching the buyer. A great war was on, every minute was precious–and every ounce of the tungsten was needed. The munitions makers could not pause for a single day 216in their mad rush to fill their contracts. The only ray of hope that Blount could see was that the price had broken to sixty dollars a unit. Wiley’s contract called for eighty-four, throughout the full year–but suppose he should lose his mine. And suppose Blount should win it. He could offer better terms, provided always that the buyer would accommodate him now. Suppose, for instance, that the fat daily checks should cease coming during the life of the lease. That could easily be explained–it might be an error in book-keeping–but it would make quite a difference to Wiley. And in return for some such favor Blount could afford to sell the tungsten for, say, fifty-five dollars a unit.
Blount was a careful man. He did not trust his message to the wires, nor did he put it on paper to convict him; he simply disappeared–but when he came back Wiley’s lawyer was waiting with a check. It was for twenty thousand dollars, and in return for this payment the lawyer demanded all of Blount’s stock. Four hundred thousand shares, worth five dollars apiece if the bond and lease should lapse, and called for under the option at five cents! In those few short days, while Blount had been speeding East, Wiley had piled up this profit and more–and now he was demanding his stock!
“No!” said Blount, “that option is invalid because it was obtained by deception and fraud, and therefore I refuse to recognize it.”
217“Very well,” replied the lawyer, who made his living out of controversies, and, summoning witnesses to his offer, he placed the money in the hands of the court and plunged into furious litigation. It was furious, in a way, and yet not so furious as the next day and the next passed by; for the lawyer was a business man and dependent upon the good will of Blount. It was a civil suit and, since Wiley could not appear to state his case in Court, it was postponed by mutual consent.
It had come over Wiley that, as long as he stood guard, no accident would happen at the mine; but he was equally convinced that, the moment he left it, the unexpected would happen. So, since Blount had elected to fight his suit, he let the fate of his option wait while he piled up money for his coup. As an individual, Blount might resist the sale of his stock; but as President of the Company he and his Board of Directors had given Wiley a valid bond and lease and, acting under its terms, Wiley still had an opportunity to gain a clear title to the mine. What happened to the stock could be thrashed out later, but with the Paymaster in his possession he could laugh his enemies to scorn–and he did not intend to be jumped! For who could tell, among these men who swarmed about him, which ones might be hired emissaries of Blount; and, once he was out of sight, they might seize the mine and hold it against all comers.
218It was a thing which had been done before, and was likely to be done again; and as the days slipped by, bringing him closer to the end, he looked about for some agent. Had he a man that he could trust to hold the mine, while he went into town to gain title to it? He looked them all over but, knowing Blount as he did, and the weakness of human nature, he hesitated and decided against it. No, it was better by far that heshould hold the mine–for possession, in mining, is everything–and send someone to pay over the money. That would be perfectly legal, and anyone could do it, but here again he hesitated. The zeal of his lawyer was failing of late–could he trust him to make the payment, in a town that was owned by Blount? Would he offer it legally and demand a legal surrender, and come out and put the deed in his hand? He might, but Wiley doubted it.
There was something going on regarding the payments for his shipments which he was unable to straighten out over the ’phone, and his lawyer was neglecting even that. And yet, if those checks were held up much longer it might seriously interfere with his payment. He had wired repeatedly, but either the messages were not delivered or his buyer was trying to welch on his contract. What he wanted was an agent, to go directly to the buyer and get the matter adjusted. Wiley thought the matter over, then he ’phoned his lawyer to forget it and wrote direct to an express company, enclosing his bills of lading and authorizing 219them to collect the account. When it came to collecting bills you could trust the express company–and you could trust Uncle Sam with your mail–but as to the people in Vegas, and especially the telephone girl, he had his well-established doubts. His telegraphic messages went out over the ’phone and were not a matter of record and if she happened to be eating a box of Blount’s candy she might forget to relay them. It was borne in upon him, in fact, more strongly every day, that there are very few people you can trust. With a suitcase, yes–but with a mine worth millions? That calls for something more than common honesty.
The fight for the Paymaster, and Wiley’s race against time, was now on every tongue, and as the value of the property went up there was a sudden flurry in the stock. Men who had hoarded it secretly for eight and ten years, men who had moved to the ends of the world, all heard of the fabulous wealth of the new Paymaster and wrote in to offer their stock. Not to offer it, exactly, but to place it on record; and others began as quietly to buy. It was known that the royalties had piled up an accruing dividend of at least twenty cents a share; and with the sale of it imminent–and a greater rise coming in case there was no sale–there would be a further increase in value. It was good, in fact, for thirty cents cash, with a gambling chance up to five dollars; and the wise ones began to buy. Men he had not seen for years dropped in on Wiley to ask his advice about 220their stock; and one evening in his office, he looked up from his work to see the familiar face of Death Valley Charley.
“Hello there, Charley,” he said, still working. “Awful busy. What is it you want?”
“Virginia wants her stock,” answered Charley simply and blinked as he stood waiting the answer. There was a war on now between the Huffs and Holmans into which Wiley’s father had been drawn; and since Honest John had repudiated his son’s acts and disclaimed all interest in his deal, Charley knew that Wiley was bitter. He had cut off the Widow from her one source of revenue but, when she had accused him of doing it for his father, Wiley had forgotten the last of his chivalry. Not only did he board all his men himself but he promised to fire any man he had who was seen taking a meal at the Widow’s. It was war to the knife, and Charley knew it, but he blinked his eyes and stood firm.
“What stock?” demanded Wiley, and then he closed his lips and his eyes turned fighting gray. “You tell her,” he said, “if she wants her stock, to come and get it herself.”
“But she sent me to get it!” objected Charley obstinately.
“Yes, and I send you back,” answered Wiley. “I gave her that stock twice, and I made it what it is, and if she wants it she can come and ask for it.”
“And will you give it to her?” asked Charley, 221but Wiley only grunted and went ahead with his writing.
It was apparent to him what was in the wind. The Widow had written to demand of his father some return for the damage to her business; and Honest John had replied, and sent Wiley a copy, that he was in no ways responsible for his acts. This letter to Wiley had been followed by another in which his father had rebuked him for persecuting Mrs. Huff, and Wiley had replied with five pages, closely written, reciting his side of the case. At this John Holman had declared himself neutral and, beyond repeating his offer to buy the Widow’s stock, had disclaimed all interest in her affairs. But now, with her stock still in Blount’s hands and this last source of revenue closed to her, the Widow was left no alternative but to appeal indirectly to Wiley. What other way then was open, if she was ever to win back her stock, but to get back Virginia’s shares and sell them to raise the eight hundred dollars? Wiley grumbled to himself as Death Valley Charley turned away and went on writing his letter.
It had been a surprise, after his break with Virginia, to discover that it left him almost glad. It had removed a burden that had weighed him down for months, and it left him free to act. He could protect his property now as it should be protected, without thought of her or anybody; and he could board his own men and keep the gospel of hate from being constantly dinned into 222their ears. They were honest, simple miners, easily swayed by a woman’s distress, but equally susceptible to the lure of gold; and now with a bonus after the minimum of work they were tearing out the ore like Titans. They were loyal and satisfied, greeting his coming with a friendly smile; but if Virginia got hold of them, or her venomous mother, where then would be his discipline?
He was deep in his work when a shadow fell upon his desk and he looked up to see–Virginia.
223CHAPTER XXV
Virginia Repents
“I came for my stock,” said Virginia coolly as she met his questioning eye and Wiley turned and rummaged in a drawer. The stock was hers and since she came and asked for it–he laid it on the desk and went ahead with his work. Virginia took the envelope and examined it carefully, but she did not go away. She glanced at him curiously, writing away so grimly, and there was a scar across his head. Could it be–yes, there her rock had struck him. The mark was still fresh, but he had given her the stock; and now he was privileged to hate her. That wound on his head would soon be overgrown and covered, but she had left a deeper scar on his heart. She had hurt his man’s pride; and now he had hurt hers, and humbled her to ask for her stock. He looked up suddenly, feeling her eyes upon him, and Virginia drew back and blushed.
“Oh–thank you,” she stammered and turned to go, and yet she lingered to see what he would say.
“You’re welcome,” he answered evenly, and took a fresh sheet of paper, but she refused to notice the hint. A sense of pique, of wonder at his politeness 224and half-resentment at his obliviousness of her presence, drew her back and she leaned against his desk.
“What are you writing?” she asked as he glanced at her inquiringly. “Is it a letter to that squaw?”
A sudden twitch of passion passed over his face at this reference to a dark page in their past and he drew the written sheet away.
“No,” he said, “I happened to remember a white girl─”
“What?” burst out Virginia before she could check herself and he curled his lip up scornfully.
“Yes,” he nodded, “and she seems to think I’m all right.”
“Oh,” she said and turned away her head with a painful twisted smile. Somehow she had always thought–and yet he must have met other girls–he was meeting them all the time! She tried to summon her anger, to carry her past this fresh stab, but the tears rose to her eyes instead.
“I–we’ll be going away soon,” she went on hurriedly. “That is, if he gives us back our stock. Do you think he’ll do it, Wiley? You know–the plan you spoke of. We’re going to sell this stock to a broker and then pay Mr. Blount back.”
“I don’t know,” mumbled Wiley, and humped up over his letter, but it did not produce the effect he had hoped for.
“Well–I’m sorry I hurt you,” she broke out impulsively, rebuked by the long gash in his hair, “but you shouldn’t have tried to stop me! I 225wasn’t doing you any harm–I just came up there that night to see what was going on. And I did see Stiff Neck George, you can smile all you want to, and he had something heavy in his hand.”
She ran on with her explanation, only to trail off inconclusively as she saw his face growing grim. He did not believe her, he did not even listen; he just sat there patiently and waited.
“Are you waiting for me to go?” she asked, smiling wanly, but even then he did not respond. There had been a time, not many weeks ago, when he would have risen up and offered her a chair; but he had got past that now and seemed really and sincerely to prefer his own company to hers. “I thought you might help us,” she went on almost tearfully, “to get back our stock from Blount. It was nice of you to tell me, after the way I acted; but–oh, I don’t know what it was that came over me! And I never even thanked you for telling me!”
A cynical smile came into Wiley’s eyes as he sat back and put down his pen, but even after that she hurried on. “Yes, I know you don’t like me–you think I tried to wreck your mine and turned all your men against you–but I do thank you, all the same. You–you used to care, Wiley; but anyhow, I thank you and–I guess I’ll be going now.”
She started for the door but he did not try to stop her. He even picked up his pen, and she turned back with fire in her eyes.
226“Well, you might say something,” she said defiantly, “or don’t you care what happens to me?”
“No; I don’t, Virginia,” he answered quietly, “so just let it go at that. We can’t get along, so what’s the use of trying? You go your way and let me go mine.”
“Oh, I know!” she sighed, “you think I’m ungrateful–and you think I just came for my stock. But I didn’t, altogether; I wanted to say I’m sorry and–oh, Wiley, doyou think he’s alive?”
“Who?” he asked; but he knew already–she was thinking about the Colonel.
“Why, Father,” she ran on. “I heard you that time when you got old Charley drunk. Do you think he’s really alive? Because if he is!” She raised her eyes ecstatically and suddenly she was smiling into his. “Because if he is,” she said, “and I can find him again–oh, Wiley; won’t you help me find him?”
“I’ll think about it,” responded Wiley, but his eyes were smiling back and the anger had died in his heart. After all, she was human; she could smile through her tears and reach out and touch his rough hand, and he could not bring himself to hate her. “After I pay for the mine,” he suggested gently. “But now you’d better go.”
“Oh, no,” she protested, “please tell me about it. Is he hiding in the Ube-Hebes? Oh, you don’t know how glad I was when I heard you talking with Charley–I never did think he was dead. He sent me word once, not to worry about him, 227but–the Indians said he had died. That is–well, they said if it hadn’t been for that sandstorm they would surely have found the body. And he’d thrown away his canteen, so he couldn’t have had any water; and there wasn’t any more for miles. He was lost, you know, and out of his head; and heading right out through the sand-hills. Oh, it’s awful to talk about it, but of course we don’t know for certain; and it might have been somebody else. Don’t you think it was some other man?”
“I don’t know,” answered Wiley, and sat staring straight ahead as she ran on with her arguments and entreaties. After all, what did he have to base his belief upon, except the babblings of brain-cracked Charley? They had found the Colonel’s riding-burro, and his saddle-bags and papers, besides his rifle and canteen; and the Shoshone trailers had followed the tracks of a man until they were lost in the drifting sand-hills. And yet Charley’s remarks, and his repeated attempts to get across the valley with some whiskey; there was something there, certainly, upon which to build hope–and Virginia was very insistent.
“Yes, I think it was another man,” he said at length. “Either that or your father escaped. He might have lost one canteen and still have had another, or he might have found his way to some water-hole. But from the way Charley talks, and tries to cover up his breaks, I feel sure that your father is alive.”
228“Oh, goodie!” she cried and before he could stop her she had stooped over and kissed his bruised head. “Now you know I’m sorry,” she burst out impulsively, “and will you go out and look for him at once?”
“Pretty soon,” said Wiley, putting her gently away. “After I make my payment on the mine. They’d be sure to jump me, now.”
“Oh, but why not now?” she pleaded. “They wouldn’t jump your mine.”
“Yes, they would,” he replied. “They’d jump me in a minute! I don’t dare to go off the grounds.”
“But what’s the mine,” she demanded insistently, “compared to finding father?”
“Well, not very much,” he conceded frankly, “but this is the way I’m fixed. I’ve got the whole world against me, including you and your mother, and I’ve got to play out my hand. There’s nobody I can trust–even my father has turned against me–and I’ve got to fight this out myself.”
“What? Just for the money? Do you think more of that than you do of finding my father?”
“No, I don’t,” he said, “but I can’t go now, and so there’s no use talking.”
“No,” she answered, drawing resentfully away from him, “there’s no use talking to you! He might be dying, or out of food, but you don’t think of anything but that money!”
“Well, maybe so,” he retorted tartly, “but if you’d just left me alone, instead of sicking all your dogs on me, I’d’ve been over there looking 229for him, long ago. Of course I’m wrong–that’s understood from the start; but─”
“What dogs did I set on you?” she demanded, flaring up, and he fixed her with sullen eyes.
“Never mind,” he said. “You know what you’ve done as well or better than I do. All I’ve got to say is that my conscience is clear and we’d better quit talking while we’re friends.”
“Yes–friends!” she repeated, and then she stopped and at last she heaved a sigh. “Well, I don’t care,” she defended. “You drove me to it. A woman must protect herself, somehow.”
“Well, you can do it,” he said, feeling tenderly of his head, and Virginia flew into a rage.
“I told you I was sorry!” she cried, stamping her foot. “Isn’t that enough? I’m sorry, I said!”
“Yes, and I’m sorry,” he answered, but his eyes were level and his jaw jutted out like a crag.
“Sorry for what?” she demanded, and he sprang his trap.
“Sorry I can’t go out and hunt for your father.”
“Oh,” she said, and drooped her head.
“If we could pay for what we’ve done by just being sorry,” he went on with a ghost of a smile, “we wouldn’t be where we are. But you know we can’t, Virginia. I’m sorry for some things myself, and I expect to pay for them, but I can’t stop to do it now.”
“But will you go for him–sometime?” she asked, smiling wistfully. “Then–oh, Wiley; why can’t we be friends?” She held out her hands and he 230rose up and took them, but with a startled look in his eyes. “You know that I’m sorry,” she said, “and I’m willing to pay, too; if there’s anything that I can do. Can’t I help you, Wiley? Isn’t there something I can do to help you pay for your mine? And I’ll never oppose you again–if you’ll only go and find my father!”
She raised his hands and put them against her cheek and the quick tears sprang to his eyes.
“I’ll do it,” he promised, “just the minute I can go. And–I’ll try to be good to you, Virginia. Won’t you give me a kiss, just to show it’s all right? I’m sorry I treated you so rough. But it’ll be all right now and we’ll try to be friends again–I wasn’t writing to any other girl.”
“Oh, weren’t you?” she smiled. “Well, I’ll kiss you, then–just once. But somehow, I’m afraid it won’t last.”
231CHAPTER XXVI
The Call
The long quarrel was over, they had made up–and kissed–and yet to Wiley it all seemed unreal. That is, all but the kiss. It was that, perhaps, which made the rest seem unreal, for it had changed the color of his life. Before, he had thought in terms of hard fact, but the kiss put a rainbow in the sky. It roused a great hope, a joy, an ecstasy, a sense of well-wishing for mankind; and yet it was only he who had changed. The world was the same; Samuel Blount was the same; and the miners, and Stiff Neck George. They were all there together in a rough-and-tumble fight to see who would get the Paymaster Mine and, even with the madness of her kiss in his soul, he pressed on towards the one, fixed goal.
He had set out to win the Paymaster and win it he would if he had to shoot his way to victory. For Stiff Neck George, like a watchful coyote, had taken up his post on the hill; and from that sign alone Wiley knew that Blount had changed his tactics and appealed to the court of last resort. His attachments had failed, his injunction suit had failed, and his cheap attempt to cut off Wiley’s 232checks. The money had come, promptly forwarded by the Express Company with a note of apology from the buyer, and it lay now in Wiley’s office safe. All that was left to do was to send it to Blount and get back the deed to the property. Three days remained before the bond and lease expired, but that was not a day too much. The question was–who to send? Wiley thought the matter over, glanced at George up on the hill, and sent a note down to Virginia.
She came up the trail smiling, for her proud reserve had vanished, and she even allowed him a kiss; but when he asked her to take the money to Blount she drew back and shook her head.
“I’m afraid,” she said, “–I’m afraid something might happen. Can’t you send it by somebody else?”
“No, that’s just the point,” he answered gravely. “Something is likely to happen if I do. My lawyer has turned crooked, and the bank won’t touch it; so there’s nobody to send but you. You can hide the money till you get there, so that no one will rob you on the way; and if anybody asks you, you can tell them about that stock deal and that you’re going down to hold up Blount.”
“Why don’t you go?” she objected and he pointed out the doorway at Stiff Neck George on the hill.
“There he sits,” he said, “like a red-necked old buzzard, just waiting for a chance to jump my mine. He may do it, anyhow–I wouldn’t put it 233past him–but if he comes he’d better come a-shooting. You see, here’s the point: the man that holds this mine can turn out ten thousand dollars a day, and that amount of money would hire enough lawyers to fight the outsiders to a standstill. If I get jumped I’m licked, because I haven’t got any more money; and I’m going to stay right here and fight ’em. But you take this money–there’s fifty-two thousand dollars–and go down and make that payment. If you can’t find Blount, then hunt up the clerk of the Superior Court and deposit the fifty thousand with him. Just bring me his receipt, with a memorandum of the payment, and he’ll notify Blount himself.”
“I don’t like to,” she shuddered. “I’m afraid they won’t take it, and then you’ll─”
“They’ve got to take it!” he broke in eagerly. “Just get the stage driver to go along as witness, and I’ll give you a full power of attorney. And then listen, Virginia; you take the rest of this money and buy back your father’s stock.”
“Oh, can I?” she cried and, reaching out for the money, she held it with tremulous hands. There were fifty thousand-dollar bills, golden yellow on the back and a rich, glossy black on the front; and others of smaller denominations, making fifty-two thousand in all. It was a fortune in itself, but in what it was to buy it was well worth over a million.
“Aren’t you afraid to trust me?” she asked at last, and when he smiled she hid it away. “All 234right,” she said, “and as soon as I’ve paid it I’ll call you up on the ’phone.”
She went out the next morning on the early stage and Wiley watched it rush across the plain. It was green as a lawn, that dry, treeless desert with its millions of evenly spaced creosote bushes; but as the sun rose higher it turned blood-red like an omen of evil to come. Many times before, in the glow of evening, he had seen the green change to red; but now it was ominous, with Stiff Neck George on the hill-top and Shadow Mountain frowning down behind. He paced about uneasily as the day wore on and at night he listened for the ’phone. She was to call him up, as soon as she had paid over the money; but it did not ring that night.
The morning of the last day dawned fair and pleasant, with the fresh smell of dew in the air, and he awoke with a sense that all was well. Virginia was in Vegas and, when Blount came to his office, she would make the payment in his stead. There was no chance to fail, once she had found her man; and if Blount refused to accept it, which he could hardly do, she could simply leave the money with the court. There were no papers to confuse her, no forms to go through; Blount had made a legal contract to sell the property and she had a full power of attorney. All it called for was loyalty and faithfulness to her trust, and Wiley knew Virginia too well to think she would fail him now. She was proud and hot-headed, and she 235had fought him in the past; but, once she had given her word, she would keep her promise or die.
As the sun rose higher he imagined her at the bank with the sheaf of bills hidden in her bosom, and Blount’s surprise and palavering when he found he was caught and that his deep-laid plans had failed. He had schemed to catch Wiley between the horns of a dilemma, and either jump his mine when he went in to make the payment or force him to lose it by default. But, almost by a miracle, Virginia had appeared at the very moment when he was seeking a messenger; and by an even greater miracle, they had composed all their difficulties just in time for him to send her to town. It was like an act of Providence, an answer to prayer, if people any longer prayed; and, more, even, than the money and the joy of success, was the consciousness of Virginia’s love. She had seemed so hostile, so distant and unattainable; but the moment that he forgot her and abandoned all hope she fluttered to his hand like a dove.
The noon hour came and went and as Wiley watched the ’phone it seemed to him strangely silent. To be sure, few people called him, but–he snatched the receiver from the hook. He had guessed it–the ’phone was dead! He rattled the hook and listened impatiently, then he shouted and listened again, and black fancies rose up in his brain. What was the meaning of this? Had they cut the wire on him? And why? It really made no difference! Virginia was there; he had 236heard it from the stage-driver who had driven her in the day before–and yet, there must be a reason. Perhaps it was an accident, for the line was old and neglected, but why should it happen now? He hung up the receiver and reviewed it all calmly. There were a hundred things which might happen to the line, for it passed through rough country near Vegas; but the weather was fair and there was no wind blowing to topple over the poles. No one used the line but him–it had been connected up by Blount when he had first taken over the mine–and yet the wire had been cut. But by whom? As he sat there pondering he raised his eyes to the hill-top, and Stiff Neck George was gone!
“The dastard!” cursed Wiley, leaping furiously to his feet and reaching for his rifle, but though he scanned the line through his high-power field-glasses there was not a man in sight. Wiley ran down to the shed and got out his racer that had lain there idle for months, but as his motor began to thunder, a head popped up and he saw Stiff Neck George on the ridge. He too had a rifle and, as he saw Wiley watching him, he dropped back and hid from sight.
“Oho!” said Wiley, and, leaving his machine, he strode angrily back to the mine. So that was their game, to get him to leave and then slip in and jump his mine. Perhaps it was all arranged with the men he had working for him and George would not even have a fight. Neither his foremen nor the guards were men he would care to trust 237in a matter involving millions–and yet something was wrong in Vegas. There was treachery somewhere or they would not cut the line to keep him from getting the news. He lingered irresolutely, his hands itching for the steering wheel, his eyes searching for Stiff Neck George.
There was a feud between them–he had braved George’s killing gun and rushed in and kicked him down the dump. Would George, then, withhold his hand? But, down in Vegas, Blount was framing up some game to deprive him of title to his mine. Wiley weighed them in the balance, the two forces against him, and decided to stay with the mine. As long as he held it there were lawyers a-plenty to prove that his title was good, but if Stiff Neck George jumped it he would have to kill him to get back possession of the property. Or rather, he would have to fight him, for George was a gunman with notches on the butt of his six-shooter. No, he would have to get killed, or give up the Paymaster, whether Blount was right or wrong.
He set his teeth and settled down to endure it–but he knew that Virginia would not fail him. He had given her the money, she knew what to do, and as sure as she hoped to save her father, he knew that she would do it. His part was to hold down the mine. The men came and went, the engine puffed and panted, and the long, dragging hours went by. As the darkness came on Wiley stalked in the shadows, looking out into the night for Stiff Neck George; but nothing stirred, the work 238went on as usual, and at midnight he gave up the search. His option had expired and either the mine was his or the title had reverted to the Company. There was nothing to watch for and so he slept, but at dawn his telephone jangled.
Wiley rose up breathlessly and took down the receiver but no one answered his call. The ’phone was dead and yet it had rung–or was it only a dream? He hung up in disgust and went back to bed but something drew him back to the ’phone. He held down the hook and, with the receiver to his ear, let the lever rise slowly up. There was talking going on and men laughing in hoarse voices and the tramp of feet to and fro, but no one responded to his shouts. He hung up once more and then suddenly it came over him, a foreboding of impending disaster. Something was wrong, something big that must be stopped at once; and a voice called insistently for action. He leapt into his clothes and started for the door–then turned back and strapped on his pistol. As the sun rose up he was a speck in the desert, rushing on through a blood-red sea.
239CHAPTER XXVII
The Thunder Clap
The broad streets of Vegas were swarming with traffic as Wiley glided swiftly into town and he noticed that people looked at him curiously. Perhaps it was all imagination but it seemed to him they eyed him coldly. Yet what they thought or felt was nothing to him then–his business was with Samuel J. Blount. The mine was unprotected–he had not even told his foreman that he was leaving, or where he was going–and there was no time for anything but business. If there was any trouble for him, Samuel J. Blount was at the bottom of it, and he drove straight up to the bank. It was a huge, granite structure with massive onyx pillars and smiling young clerks at the grilles; but he hurried past them all and turned down a hall to a room that was marked: President–Private. This was no time for dallying or sending in cards–he opened the door and stepped in.
Samuel Blount was sitting at the head of a table with other men grouped about him, but as Wiley Holman entered they were silent. He glanced at Blount and then again at the men–they were the 240directors of the Paymaster Mining and Milling Company!
“Good morning, Mr. Holman,” spoke up Blount with asperity. “Please wait for me out in the hall.”
“Since when?” retorted Wiley and then, leaping to the point, “what about that deed to the Paymaster?”
“Why–you must be misinformed,” replied Blount slowly, at the same time pressing a button, “this is a meeting of the Board of Directors.”
“So I see,” returned Wiley, “but I sent the money by Virginia to take up the option on the mine. Did you receive it or did you not?”
A broad-shouldered man, very narrow between the eyes, came in and stood close to Wiley, and Blount smiled and cleared his throat.
“No,” he said, “we did not receive it?”
“Oh, you didn’t, eh?” said Wiley, glancing up at the janitor. “Perhaps you will tell me if it was offered to you?”
“No, it was not offered to us,” replied Blount, smiling blandly, “although Miss Huff did make a deposit.”
“Of fifty thousand dollars?”
“No, it was more than that–fifty-two, I believe. It was deposited to your account.”
“Oh,” observed Wiley, and looked them over again as the directors turned around to scowl. “Well, perhaps I can see Miss Huff?”
“She is not here at present,” replied Blount with finality, “and so I must ask you to withdraw.”
241“Just a moment,” said Wiley, as the janitor moved expectantly. “I came here on a matter of business with you and this Board of Directors and, since the matter is urgent, I must request an immediate hearing. You don’t need to be alarmed–all I want is my answer and then I’ll leave you alone. In the first place, Mr. Blount, will you please tell me the circumstances under which this deposit was made? I gave Miss Huff instructions to offer the money to you in payment for the Paymaster Mine.”
“Oh! Instructions, eh?” piped Blount with a satirical smile, and the Board stirred and nodded significantly. “Well, since you’ve just come in and are evidently unaware of the wide interest that has been taken in this case, I’ll tell you a few things, Mr. Holman. The people of this town do not approve of the manner in which you have treated Mrs. Huff; and as for your ‘instructions’ to Virginia, let me tell you right now that we have saved her from becoming your victim.”
“My victim!” repeated Wiley, moving swiftly towards him, but the janitor caught him by the arm.
“Yes, your victim,” answered Blount with a venomous sneer, “or, at least, your intended victim. The people of Vegas had nothing to say when you deprived Virginia and her mother of their livelihood–it was your privilege as lessee of the mine to board your own men if you chose–but when you had the effrontery to send Virginia to this 242Board with ‘instructions’ to jeopardize her own interests, we felt called on to interfere.”
“Why, you’re crazy!” burst out Wiley. “What interests did she jeopardize by making that payment for me? As a matter of fact it was just the contrary–I gave her the money to get back the stock that you had practically stolen from her mother!”
“Now! Now!” spoke up Blount, “we won’t have any personalities, or I’ll ask Mr. Jepson to remove you. You must know if you know anything that Virginia herself had over twelve thousand shares of stock; while her mother left with me, as collateral on a note, more than two hundred thousand shares more. Yet you asked this innocent girl, who trusted you so fully, to wipe out her whole inheritance at one blow. You asked her to come here and make a payment that would beat her out of half a million dollars–for fifty thousand dollars!”
He paused and the men about the table murmured threateningly among themselves.
“And now!” went on Blount with heavy irony, “you come here and ask for your deed!”
“Yes, you bet I do!” snapped back Wiley, “and I’m going to get it, too. If Virginia came here and offered you that money, that’s enough, in the eyes of the law. It was a legal payment under a legal contract, entered into by this Board of Directors; and I call you gentlemen to witness that she came here and offered the money.”
“She came to me!” corrected Blount, “and in no wise as the President of this Board!”
243“Well, you’re the man that I told her to go to–and if she offered you the money, that’s enough!”
“Oh, it’s enough, is it? Well, it may be enough for you, but it is not enough for the citizens of this town. We have organized a committee, of which Mr. Jepson is a member, to escort you out of Vegas; and I would say further that your bond and lease has lapsed and the Company will take over the mine.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” returned Wiley grimly, “but I’ll tell you right now that there aren’t men enough in Vegas to run me out of town–not if you call in the whole town and the Janitors’ Union–so don’t try to start anything rough. I’m a law-abiding citizen, and I know my rights, and I’m going to see this through.” He put his back to the wall and the burly Jepson took the hint to move further away. “Now,” said Wiley, “if we understand each other let’s get right down to brass tacks. It’s all very well to organize Vigilance Committees for the protection of trusting young ladies, but you know and I know that this is a matter of business, involving the title to a mine. And I’d like to say further that, when a Board of Directors talks a messenger out of her purpose and persuades her to disregard her instructions─”
“Instructions!” bellowed Blount.
“Yes–instructions!” repeated Wiley, “–instructions as my agent. I sent Miss Huff down here to make this payment and I gave her instructions regarding it.”
244“Do you realize,” blustered Blount, “that if she had followed those instructions she would have defrauded her own mother out of millions; that she would have ruined her own life and conferred her father’s fortune upon the very man who was deceiving her?”
“No, I do not,” replied Wiley, “but even if I did, that has nothing to do with the case. As to my relations with Miss Huff, I am fully satisfied that she has nothing of which to complain; and since it was you, and the rest of the gang, who stood to lose by the deal, your indignation seems rather far-fetched. If you were sorry for Miss Huff and wished to help her you have abundant private means for doing so; but when you dissuade her from her purpose in order to save your own skin you go up against the law. I’m going to take this to court and when the evidence is heard I’m going to prove you a bunch of crooks. I don’t believe for a minute that Virginia turned against me. I know that she offered you the money.”
“Oh, you know, do you?” sneered Blount as his Directors rallied about him. “Well, how are you going to prove it?”
“By her own word!” said Wiley. “I know her too well. You just talked her out of it, afterward.”
“So you think,” taunted Blount, “that she offered the money in payment, and demanded the delivery of the deed? And will you stand or fall on her testimony?”
“Absolutely!” smiled Wiley, “and if she tells 245me she didn’t do it I’ll never take the matter into court.”
“Very well,” replied Blount and turned towards the door, but the Directors rushed in and caught him. They thrust their heads together in a whispered, angry conference, now differing among themselves and now flying back to catch Blount, but in the end he shook them all off. “No, gentlemen,” he said, “I have absolute confidence in the justice of my case. If you stand to lose a little I stand to lose a great deal–and I know she never asked for that deed!”
“Well, bring her in, then,” they conceded reluctantly, and turned venomous eyes upon Wiley. They knew him, and they feared him, and especially with this girl; for he was smiling and waiting confidently. But Blount was their czar, with his great block of stock pitted against their tiny holdings, and they sat down to await the issue.
She came at last, ushered in through the back door by Blount, who smiled benevolently; and her eyes leapt on the instant to meet Wiley’s.
“Here is Miss Huff,” announced Blount deliberately and the light died in Wiley’s shining eyes. He had waited for her confidently, but that one defiant flash told him that Virginia had turned against him. She had thrown in her lot with Blount, and against her lover, and by her word he must stand or fall. She had been his agent, but if she had not carried out her trust─
“Any questions you would like to ask,” went on 246Blount with ponderous calm, “I am sure Virginia will answer.”
He turned reassuringly and she nodded her head nervously, then stepped out and stood facing Wiley.
“It is a question,” began Wiley, speaking like one in a dream, “of the way you paid Mr. Blount that money. When you took it to him first, before they had talked to you, did you tell him it was my payment on the option?”
Virginia glanced at Blount, then she took a deep breath and drew herself up very straight.
“No,” she said, “I spoke to him first about buying back father’s stock.”
“But after that,” he said, “didn’t you hand him over the money and say it was sent by me?”
“No, I didn’t,” she answered. “After the way you had treated me I didn’t think it was right.”
“Not right!” he repeated with a slow, dazed smile. “Why–why wasn’t it right, Virginia?”