Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain)

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Ridgway of Montana (Story of To-Day, in Which the Hero Is Also the Villain) Page 10

by William MacLeod Raine


  CHAPTER 10. HARLEY MAKES A PROPOSITION

  Apparently the head of the great trust intended to lose no time inhaving that business talk with Ridgway, which he had graciouslypromised the latter. Eaton and his chief were busy over someapplications for leases when Smythe came into the room with a letter.

  "Messenger-boy brought it; said it was important," he explained.

  Ridgway ripped open the envelope, read through the letter swiftly, andtossed it to Eaton. His eyes had grown hard and narrow.

  "Write to Mr. Hobart that I am sorry I haven't time to call on Mr.Harley at the Consolidated offices, as he suggests. Add that I expectto be in my offices all morning, and shall be glad to make anappointment to talk with Mr. Harley here, if he thinks he has anybusiness with me that needs a personal interview."

  Smythe's leathery face had as much expression as a blank wall, butEaton gasped. The unparalleled audacity of flinging the billionaire'soverture back in his face left him for the moment speechless. He knewthat Ridgway had tempted Providence a hundred times without coming todisaster, but surely this was going too far. Any reasonable compromisewith the great trust builder would be cause for felicitation. He hadconfidence in his chief to any point in reason, but he could not blindhimself to the fact that the wonderful successes he had gained wereprovisional rather than final. He likened them to Stonewall Jackson'sShenandoah raid, very successful in irritating, disorganizing andstartling the enemy, but with no serious bearing on the finalinevitable result. In the end Harley would crush his foes if he set inmotion the whole machinery of his limitless resources. That was Eaton'sprivate opinion, and he was very much of the feeling that this was anopportune time to get in out of the rain.

  "Don't you think we had better consider that answer before we send it,Waring?" he suggested in a low voice.

  His chief nodded a dismissal to the secretary before answering.

  "I have considered it."

  "But--surely it isn't wise to reject his advances before we know whatthey are."

  "I haven't rejected them. I've simply explained that we are doingbusiness on equal terms. Even if I meant to compromise, it would pay meto let him know he doesn't own me."

  "He may decide not to offer his proposition."

  "It wouldn't worry me if he did."

  Eaton knew he must speak now if his protest were to be of any avail."It would worry me a good deal. He has shown an inclination to befriendly. This answer is like a slap in the face."

  "Is it?"

  "Doesn't it look like that to you?"

  Ridgway leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at his friend."Want to sell out, Steve?"

  "Why--what do you mean?" asked the surprised treasurer.

  "If you do, I'll pay anything in reason for your stock." He got up andbegan to pace the floor with long deliberate strides. "I'm a borngambler, Steve. It clears my head to take big chances. Give me a goodfight on my hands with the chances against me, and I'm happy. You'vegot to take the world by the throat and shake success out of it ifyou're going to score heavily. That's how Harley made good years ago.Read the story of his life. See the chances he took. He throttledcombinations a dozen times as strong as his. Some people say he was anaccident. Don't you believe it. Accidents like him don't happen. He wonbecause he was the biggest, brainiest, most daring and unscrupulousoperator in the field. That's why I'm going to win--if I do win."

  "Yes, if you win."

  "Well, that's the chance I take," flung back the other as he swungbuoyantly across the room. "But YOU don't need to take it. If you want,you can get out now at the top market price. I feel it in my bones I'mgoing to win; but if you don't feel it, you'd be a fool to takechances."

  Eaton's mercurial temperament responded with a glow.

  "No, sir. I'll sit tight. I'm no quitter."

  "Good for you, Steve. I knew it. I'll tell you now that I would havehated like hell to see you leave me. You're the only man I can rely ondown to the ground, twenty-four hours of every day."

  The answer was sent, and Eaton's astonishment at his chief's temeritychanged to amazement when the great Harley, pocketing his pride, askedfor an appointment, and appeared at the offices of the MesaOre-producing Company at the time set. That Ridgway, who was busy withone of his superintendents, should actually keep the most powerful manin the country waiting in an outer office while he finished hisbusiness with Dalton seemed to him insolence florescent.

  "Whom the gods would destroy," he murmured to himself as the onlypossible explanation, for the reaction of his enthusiasm was on him.

  Nor did his chief's conference with Dalton show any leaning towardcompromise. Ridgway had sent for his engineer to outline a program inregard to some ore-veins in the Sherman Bell, that had for months beenin litigation between the two big interests at Mesa. Neither party tothe suit had waited for the legal decision, but each of them had put alarge force at work stoping out the ore. Occasional conflicts hadoccurred when the men of the opposing factions came in touch, as theyfrequently did, since crews were at work below and above each other atevery level. But none of these as yet had been serious.

  "Dalton, I was down last night to see that lease of Heyburn's on thetwelfth level of the Taurus. The Consolidated will tap our workingsabout noon to-day, just below us. I want you to turn on them theair-drill pipe as soon as they break through. Have a lot of loose rockthere mixed with a barrel of lime. Let loose the air pressure full onthe pile, and give it to their men straight. Follow them up to the endof their own tunnel when they retreat, and hold it against them. Getcontrol of the levels above and below, too. Throw as many men as youcan into their workings, and gut them till there is no ore left."

  Dalton had the fighting edge. "You'll stand by me, no matter whathappens?"

  "Nothing will happen. They're not expecting trouble. But if anythingdoes, I'll see you through. Eaton is your witness that I ordered it."

  "Then it's as good as done, Mr. Ridgway," said Dalton, turning away.

  "There may be bloodshed," suggested Eaton dubiously, in a low voice.

  Ridgway's laugh had a touch of affectionate contempt. "Don't crossbridges till you get to them, Steve. Haven't you discovered, man, thatthe bold course is always the safe one? It's the quitter that loses outevery time. The strong man gets there; the weak one falls down. It's asinvariable as the law of gravity." He got up and stretched his broadshoulders in a deep breath. "Now for Mr. Harley. Send him in, Eaton."

  That morning Simon Harley had done two things for many years foreign tohis experience: He had gone to meet another man instead of making theman come to him, and he had waited the other man's pleasure in an outeroffice. That he had done so implied a strong motive.

  Ridgway waved Harley to a chair without rising to meet him. The eyes ofthe two men fastened, wary and unwavering. They might have been junglebeasts of prey crouching for the attack, so tense was their attention.The man from Broadway was the first to speak.

  "I have called, Mr. Ridgway, to arrange, if possible, a compromise. Ineed hardly say this is not my usual method, but the circumstances areextremely unusual. I rest under so great a personal obligation to youthat I am willing to overlook a certain amount of youthfulpresumption." His teeth glittered behind a lip smile, intended to givethe right accent to the paternal reproof. "My personal obligation--"

  "What obligation? I left you to die in the snow.',

  "You forget what you did for Mrs. Harley."

  "You may eliminate that," retorted the younger man curtly. "You areunder no obligations whatever to me."

  "That is very generous of you, Mr. Ridgway, but--"

  Ridgway met his eyes directly, cutting his sentence as with a knife."'Generous' is the last word to use. It is not a question of generosityat all. What I mean is that the thing I did was done with no referencewhatever to you. It is between me and her alone. I refuse to considerit as a service to you, as having anything at all to do with you. Itold you that before. I tell you again."

  Harley's spirit winced. Thi
s bold claim to a bond with his wife thatexcluded him, the scornful thrust of his enemy--he was alreadybeginning to consider him in that light rather than as a victim--hadtouched the one point of human weakness in this money-makingJuggernaut. He saw himself for the moment without illusions, an old manand an unlovable one, without near kith or kin. He was bitterly awarethat the child he had married had been sold to him by her guardian,under fear of imminent ruin, before her ignorance of the world hadgiven her experience to judge for herself. The money and the hiddenhunger of sentiment he wasted on her brought him only timid thanks andwan obedience. But for this man, with his hateful, confident youth, hehad seen the warm smile touch her lips and the delicate color rose hercheeks. Nay, he had seen more her arms around his neck and her, warmbreath on his cheek. They had lived romance, these two, in the daysthey had been alone together. They had shared danger and the joys ofthat Bohemia of youth from which he was forever excluded. It was hisresolve to wipe out by financial favors--he could ruin the fellow laterif need be--any claims of Ridgway upon her gratitude or her foolishimagination. He did not want the man's appeal upon her to carry thesimilitude of martyrdom as well as heroism.

  "Yet, the fact remains that it was a service"--his thin lips smiled. "Imust be the best judge of that, I think. I want to be perfectly frank,Mr. Ridgway. The Consolidated is an auxiliary enterprise so far as I amconcerned, but I have always made it a rule to look after details whenit became necessary. I came to Montana to crush you. I have alwaysregarded you as a menace to our legitimate interests, and I had quitedetermined to make an end of it. You are a good fighter, and you'vebeen on the ground in person, which counts for a great deal. But youmust know that if I give myself to it in earnest, you are a ruined man."

  The Westerner laughed hardily. "I hear you say it."

  "But you don't believe," added the other quietly. "Many men have heardand not believed. They have KNOWN when it was too late.

  "If you don't mind, I'll buy my experience instead of borrowing it,"Ridgway flung back flippantly.

  "One moment, Mr. Ridgway. I have told you my purpose in coming toMontana. That purpose no longer exists. Circumstances have completelyaltered my intentions. The finger of God is in it. He has not broughtus together thus strangely, except to serve some purpose of His own. Ithink I see that purpose. 'The stone which the builders refused isbecome the headstone of the corner. This is the Lord's doing; it ismarvelous in our eyes,'" he quoted unctiously. "I am convinced that itis a waste of good material to crush you; therefore I desire to effecta consolidation with you, buy all the other copper interests of anyimportance in the country, and put you at the head of the resultingcombination."

  In spite of himself, Ridgway's face betrayed him. It was a magnificentopportunity, the thing he had dreamed of as the culmination of alifetime of fighting. Nobody knew better than he on how precarious afooting he stood, on how slight a rock his fortunes might be wrecked.Here was his chance to enter that charmed, impregnable inner circle offinance that in effect ruled the nation. That Harley's suavefriendliness would bear watching he did not doubt for a moment, but,once inside, so his vital youth told him proudly, he would see to itthat the billionaire did not betray him. A week ago he could have askednothing better than this chance to bloat himself into a some-daycolossus. But now the thing stuck in his gorge. He understood theimplied obligation. Payment for his service to Aline Harley was to begiven, and the ledger balanced. Well, why not? Had he not spent thenight in a chaotic agony of renunciation? But to renounce voluntarilywas one thing, to be bought off another.

  He looked up and met Harley's thin smile, the smile that on Wall Streetwas a synonym for rapacity and heartlessness, in the memory of whichmen had committed murder and suicide. On the instant there jumpedbetween him and his ambition the face that had worked magic on him.What a God's pity that such a lamb should be cast to this ravenouswolf! He felt again her arms creeping round his neck, the divine trustof her lovely eyes. He had saved her when this man who called himselfher husband had left her to perish in the storm. He had made her happy,as she had never been in all her starved life. Had she not promisednever to forget, and was there not a deeper promise in her wistful eyesthat the years could not wipe out? She was his by every right ofnatural law. By God! he would not sell his freedom of choice to thiswhite haired robber!

  "I seldom make mistakes in my judgment of men, Mr. Ridgway," the oilyvoice ran on. "No small share of such success as it has been given meto attain has been due to this instinct for putting my finger on theright man. I am assured that in you I find one competent for the greatwork lying before you. The opportunity is waiting; I furnish it, andyou the untiring energy of youth to make the most of the chance." Hiswolfish smile bared the tusks for a moment. "I find myself not so youngas I was. The great work I have started is well under way. I must trustits completion to younger and stronger hands than mine. I intend torest, to devote myself to my home, more directly to such philanthropicand educational work as God has committed to my hands."

  The Westerner gave him look for look, his eyes burning to get over theimpasse of the expressionless mask no man had ever penetrated. He beganto see why nobody had ever understood Harley. He knew there would be norest for that consuming energy this side of the grave. Yet the mantalked as if he believed his own glib lies.

  "Consolidated is the watchword of the age; it means elimination ofruinous competition, and consequent harmony and reduced expense inmanagement. Mr. Ridgway, may I count you with us? Together we should gofar. Do you say peace or war?"

  The younger man rose, leaning forward with his strong, sinewy handsgripping the table. His face was pale with the repression of a ragethat had been growing intense. "I say war, and without quarter. I don'tbelieve you can beat me. I defy you to the test. And if youshould--even then I had rather go down fighting you than win at yourside."

  Simon Harley had counted acceptance a foregone conclusion, but he neverwinked a lash at the ringing challenge of his opponent. He met hisdefiance with an eye cold and steady as jade.

  "As you please, Mr. Ridgway. I wash my hands of your ruin, and when youare nothing but a broken gambler, you will remember that I offered youthe greatest chance that ever came to a man of your age. You are one ofthose men, I see, that would rather be first in hell than second inheaven. So be it." He rose and buttoned his overcoat.

  "Say, rather, that I choose to go to hell my own master and not as theslave of Simon Harley," retorted the Westerner bitterly.

  Ridgway's eyes blazed, but those of the New Yorker were cool and fishy.

  "There is no occasion for dramatics," he said, the cruel, passionlesssmile at his thin lips. "I make you a business proposition and youdecline it. That is all. I wish you good day."

  The other strode past him and flung the door open. He had never beforeknown such a passion of hatred as raged within him. Throughout his lifeSimon Harley had left in his wake wreckage and despair. He was thebest-hated man of his time, execrated by the working classes, despisedby the country at large, and distrusted by his fellow exploiters. Yet,as a business opponent, Ridgway had always taken him impersonally, hadcounted him for a condition rather than an individual. But with the newinfluence that had come into his life, reason could not reckon, andwhen it was dominant with him, Harley stood embodied as the wolf readyto devour his ewe lamb.

  For he couldn't get away from her. Wherever he went he carried with himthe picture of her sweet, shy smile, her sudden winsome moments, thedeep light in her violet eyes; and in the background the sinister baredfangs of the wild beast dogging her patiently, and yet lovingly.

 

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