XVII
A Night of Fiascos
Smith had seen nothing of Miss Richlander during the day of the Stantonplottings, partly because there was a forenoon meeting of the High Linestockholders called for the purpose of electing him secretary andtreasurer in fact of the company, and partly because the major portionof the afternoon was spent in conference with Williams at the dam.
The work of construction had now reached its most critical stage, andWilliams was driving it strenuously. Each twenty-four hours, with therecurring night rise from the melting snows, the torrenting riverreached a higher water-mark, and three times in as many weeks theengineer had changed from a quick-setting cement to a still quicker,time-saving and a swift piling-up of the great dike wall being now theprime necessities.
Returning from the dam site quite late in the evening, Smith spent ahard-working hour or more at his desk in the Kinzie Building offices;and it was here that Starbuck found him.
"What?" said the new secretary, looking up from his work when Starbuck'swiry figure loomed in the doorway, "I thought you were once more afamily man, and had cut out the night prowling."
Starbuck jack-knifed himself comfortably in a chair.
"I was. But the little girl's run away again; gone with hersister--Maxwell's wife, you know--to Denver to get her teeth fixed; andI'm foot-loose. Been butting in a little on your game, this evening,just to be doing. How's tricks with you, now?"
"We're strictly in the fight," declared Smith enthusiastically. "Weclosed the deal to-day for the last half-mile of the main ditch right ofway, which puts us up on the mesa slope above the Escalante Grant. Ifthey knock us out now, they'll have to do it with dynamite."
"Yes," said the ex-cow-man, thoughtfully; "with dynamite." Then: "How isWilliams getting along?"
"Fine! The water is crawling up on him a little every night, but with noaccidents, he'll be able to hold the flood rise when it comes. The onlything that worries me now is the time limit."
"The time limit?" echoed Starbuck. "What's that?"
"It's the handicap we inherit from the original company. Certain Staterights to the water were conveyed in the old charter, on condition thatthe project should be completed, or at least be far enough along to turnwater into the ditches, by a given date. This time limit, which carriesover from Timanyoni Ditch to Timanyoni High Line, expires next week.We're petitioning for an extension, but if we don't get it we shallstill be able to back the water up so that it will flow into the lowerlevel of ditches by next Thursday; that is, barring accidents."
"Yes; with no accidents," mused Starbuck. "Can't get shut of the 'if,'no way nor shape, can we? So that's why the Stanton people have beenfighting so wolfishly for delay, is it? Wanted to make the High Linelose its charter? John, this is a wicked, wicked world, and I cansympathize with the little kiddie who said he was going out in thegarden to eat worms." Then he switched abruptly. "Where did you corralall those good looks you took to the opera-house last night, John?"
Smith's laugh was strictly perfunctory.
"That was Miss Verda Richlander, an old friend of mine from back home.She is out here with her father, and the father has gone up into theTopaz country to buy him a gold brick."
"Not in the Topaz," Starbuck struck in loyally. "We don't make thebricks up there--not the phony kind. But let that go and tell mesomething else. A while back, when you were giving me a little song anddance about the colonel's daughter, you mentioned another woman--thoughnot by name, if you happen to recollect. I was just wondering if thisMiss Rich-people, or whatever her name is, might be the other one."
Again the new secretary laughed--this time without embarrassment."You've called the turn, Billy. She is the other one."
"H'm; chasing you up?"
"Oh, no; it was just one of the near-miracles. She didn't know I washere, and I had no hint that she was coming."
"I didn't know," commented the reformed cowboy. "Sometimes when youthink it's a cold trail, it's a warm one; and then again when you thinkit's warm, it fools you."
"Oh, pshaw!" scoffed the trail-maker, "you make me weary, Billy. We aremerely good friends. No longer ago than last night I had the strongestpossible proof of Miss Richlander's friendship."
"Did, eh? All right; it's your roast; not mine. But I'm going to pullone chestnut out of the fire for you, even if I do get my fingersburned. This Miss Rich-folks has had only one day here in Brewster, butshe's used it in getting mighty chummy with the Stantons. Did you knowthat?"
"What!" ejaculated Smith.
"Jesso," smiled Starbuck. "She had her luncheon with 'em to-day, and foran hour or so this evening the three of 'em sat together up in theHophra inside-veranda parlor. Does that figure as news to you?"
"It does," said Smith simply; and he added: "I don't understand it."
"Funny," remarked the ex-cow-man. "It didn't ball me up for more than aminute or two. Stanton fixed it some way--because he needed to. Tell mesomething, John; could this Miss Rich-garden help Stanton out in any ofhis little schemes, if she took a notion?"
Smith turned away and stared at the blackened square of outer darknesslying beyond the office window.
"She could, Billy--but she won't," he answered.
"You can dig up your last dollar and bet on that, can you?"
"Yes, I think I can."
"H'm; that's just what I was most afraid of."
"Don't be an ass, Billy."
"I'm trying mighty hard not to be, John, but sometimes the ears willgrow on the best of us--in spite of the devil. What I mean is this: whena woman thinks enough of a man to keep his secrets, she's mighty likelyto think too much of him to keep those same secrets from spreadingthemselves on the bill-boards when the pinch comes."
"I'm no good at conundrums," said Smith. "Put it in plain words."
"So I will," snapped Starbuck, half morosely. "Two nights ago, when youwere telling me about this Miss Rich-acres, you said there was nothingto it, and I said you never could tell, when there was a woman in it. Isaw you two when you came out of the Hophra dining-room together lastnight, and I saw the look in that girl's eyes. Do you know what I saidto myself right then, John? I said: 'Oh, you little girl out at theHillcrest ranch--good-by, you!'"
Smith's grin was half antagonistic. "You _are_ an ass, Billy," heasserted. "I never was in love with Verda Richlander, nor she with me."
"Speak for yourself and let it hang there, John. You can't speak for thewoman--no man ever can. What I'm hoping now is that she doesn't knowanything about you that Stanton could make use of."
Again the High Line's new secretary turned to stare at the blackbackgrounded window.
"You mean that she might hear of--of Miss Corona?" he suggested.
"You've roped it down, at last," said the friendly enemy. "Stanton'lltell her--he'll tell her anything and everything that might make herturn loose any little bit of information she may have about you. As Isaid a minute ago, I'm hoping she hasn't got anything on you, John."
Smith was still facing the window when he replied. "I'm sorry to have todisappoint you, Starbuck. What Miss Richlander could do to me, if shechooses, would be good and plenty."
The ex-cowboy mine owner drew a long breath and felt for histobacco-sack and rice-paper.
"All of which opens up more talk trails," he said thoughtfully. "Sinceyou wouldn't try to take care of yourself, and since your neck happensto be the most valuable asset Timanyoni High Line has, just at present,I've been butting in, as I told you. Listen to my tale of woe, if youhaven't anything better to do. Besides the Miss Rich-ranches episodethere are a couple of others. Want to hear about 'em?"
Smith nodded.
"All right. A little while past dinner this evening, Stanton had a hurrycall to meet the 'Nevada Flyer.' Tailed onto the train there was aprivate luxury car, and in the private car sat a gentleman whose faceyou've seen plenty of times in the political cartoons, usually withcuss-words under it. He is one of Stanton's bosses; and Stanton was infor a wigging--and got it. I co
uldn't hear, but I could see--through thecar window. He had Stanton standing on one foot before the train pulledout and let Crawford make his get-away. You guess, and I'll guess, andwe'll both say it was about this Escalante snap which is aiming to beknown as the Escalante fizzle. Ain't it the truth?"
Again Smith nodded, and said: "Go on."
"After Number Five had gone, Stanton broke for his auto-cab, lookinglike he could bite a nail in two. I happened to hear the order he gavethe shover, and I had my cayuse hitched over at Bob Sharkey's joint.Naturally, I ambled along after Crawford, and while I didn't beat himto it, I got there soon enough. It was out at Jeff Barton's road-houseon the Topaz trail, and Stanton was shut up in the back room with a sortof tin-horn 'bad man' named Lanterby."
"You listened?" said Smith, still without eagerness.
"Right you are. And they fooled me. Two schemes were on tap; onepointing at Williams and the dam, and the other at you. These were both'last resorts'; Stanton said he had one more string to pull first. Ifthat broke--well, I've said it half a dozen times already, John: you'lleither have to hire a body-guard or go heeled. I'm telling you righthere and now, that bunch is going to get you, even if it costs money!"
"You say Stanton said he had one more string to pull: he didn't give ita name, did he?"
"No, but I've got a notion of my own," was the ready answer. "He'strying to get next to you through the women, with this Miss Rich-pasturefor his can-opener. But when everything else fails, he is to send apassword to Lanterby, one of two passwords. 'Williams' means dynamiteand the dam: 'Jake' means the removal from the map of a fellow namedSmith. Nice prospect, isn't it?"
Smith was jabbing his paper-knife absently into the desk-blotter. "Andyet we go on calling this a civilized country!" he said meditatively.Then with a sudden change of front: "I'm in this fight to stay until Iwin out or die out, Billy; you know that. As I have said, Miss Verda cankill me off if she chooses to; but she won't choose to. Now let's get towork. It's pretty late to rout a justice of the peace out of bed toissue a warrant for us, but we'll do it. Then we'll go after Lanterbyand make him turn state's evidence. Come on; let's get busy."
But Starbuck, reaching softly for a chair-righting handhold upon Smith'sdesk, made no reply. Instead, he snapped his lithe body out of the chairand launched it in a sudden tiger-spring at the door. To Smith'sastonishment the door, which should have been latched, came in atStarbuck's wrenching jerk of the knob, bringing with it, hatless, andwith the breath startled out of him, the new stenographer, Shaw.
"There's your state's evidence," said Starbuck grimly, pushing thehalf-dazed door-listener into a chair. "Just put the auger a couple ofinches into this fellow and see what you can find."
Measured by any standard of human discomfort, Richard Shaw had anexceedingly bad quarter of an hour to worry through when Smith andStarbuck applied the thumbscrews and sought by every means known tomodern inquisitorial methods to force a confession out of him.
Caring nothing for loyalty to the man who was paying him, Shaw had,nevertheless, a highly developed anxiety for his own welfare; andknowing the dangerous ground upon which he stood, he evaded and shuffledand prevaricated under the charges and questionings until it becameapparent to both of his inquisitors that nothing short of bribery orphysical torture would get the truth out of him. Smith was not willingto offer the bribe, and since the literal thumbscrews were out of thequestion, Shaw was locked into one of the vacant rooms across thecorridor until his captors could determine what was to be done with him.
"That is one time when I fired and missed the whole side of the barn,"Starbuck admitted, when Shaw had been remanded to the makeshift cellacross the hall. "I know that fellow is on Stanton's pay-roll; and it'sreasonably certain that he got his job with you so that he could keepcases on you. But we can't prove anything that we say, so long as herefuses to talk."
"No," Smith agreed. "I can discharge him, and that's about all that canbe done with him. We can't even tax him with listening. You heard whathe said--that he saw the light up here from the street, and came up tosee if I didn't need him."
"He is a pretty smooth article," said Starbuck reflectively. "He used tobe a clerk in Maxwell's railroad office, and he was mixed up in somekind of crookedness, I don't remember just what."
Smith caught quickly at the suggestion.
"Wait a minute, Billy," he broke in; and then: "There's no doubt in yourmind that he's a spy?"
"Sure, he is," was the prompt rejoinder.
"I was just thinking--he has heard what was said here to-night--which isenough to give Stanton a pretty good chance to outfigure us again."
"Right you are."
"In which case it would be little short of idiotic in us to turn himloose. We've got to hold him, proof or no proof. Where would we be aptto catch Maxwell at this time of night?"
"At home and in bed, I reckon."
"Call him up on the 'phone and state the case briefly. Tell him if hehas any nip on Shaw that would warrant us in turning him over to thesheriff, we'd like to know it."
"You're getting the range now," laughed the ex-cow-man, and instead ofusing the desk set, he went to shut himself into the sound-prooftelephone-closet.
When he emerged a few minutes later he was grinning exultantly. "Thatwas sure a smooth one of yours, John. Dick gave me the facts. Shaw's athief; but he has a sick sister on his hands--or said he had--and therailroad didn't prosecute. Dick says for us to jug him to-night andto-morrow morning he'll swear out the necessary papers."
"Good. We'll do that first; and then we'll go after this fellowLanterby. I want to get Stanton where I can pinch him, Billy; no,there's nothing personal about it; but when a great corporation like theEscalante Land Company gets down to plain anarchy and dynamiting, it'stime to make somebody sweat for it. Let's go and get Shaw."
Together they went across the corridor, and Smith unlocked the door ofthe disused room. The light switch was on the door-jamb and Starbuckfound and pressed the button. The single incandescent bulb hanging fromthe ceiling sprang alive--and showed the two men at the door an emptyroom and an open window. The bird had flown.
Starbuck was grinning again when he went to look out of the window. Theroof of the adjoining building was only a few feet below the sill level,and there was a convenient fire-escape ladder leading to the ground.
"It's us for that road-house out on the Topaz trail before the news getsaround to Stanton and Lanterby," he said definitely; and they lost notime in securing an auto for the dash.
But that, too, proved to be a fiasco. When they reached Barton'sall-night place on the hill road, the bar was still open and a card gamewas running in an up-stairs room. Starbuck did the necessarycross-questioning of the dog-faced bartender.
"You know me, Pug, and what I can do to you if I have to. We want HankLanterby. Pitch out and show us where."
The barkeeper threw up one hand as if he were warding off a blow.
"You c'd have him in a holy minute, for all o' me, Billy; you surecould," he protested. "But he's gone."
"On the level?" snapped Starbuck.
"That's straight; I wouldn't lie to you, Billy. Telephone call came fromtown a little spell ago, and I got Hank outa bed t' answer it. Heborra'd Barton's mare an' faded inside of a pair o' minutes."
"Which way?" demanded the questioner.
"T' the hills; leastways he ain't headin' f'r town when he breaks fromhere."
Starbuck turned to Smith with a wry smile.
"Shaw beat us to it and he scores on us," he said. "We may as well hikeback, 'phone Williams to keep his eye on things up at the dam, and go tobed. There'll be nothing more doing to-night."
The Real Man Page 17