Under Handicap

by Jackson Gregory

  CHAPTER XXV

  The days ran on, each twenty-four hours seeming shorter, swifter thanthe preceding twenty-four. Although everywhere in the Valley there wasa glad confidence that the reclamation project was an assured thing,although feverish anxiety had been beaten back and driven out, therewas no slightest slackening of unremitting toil. Upward of sevenhundred men worked as they had never worked before. As the end of thetime drew nearer, as success became ever more assured, they workedlonger hours, they accomplished swifter results. For each man of them,from Brayley to the ditch-diggers, was laboring not only for thecompany, but for himself. Each and every man had been promised a bonusfor every day between the time when water was poured down into thesunken Valley and the coming of high noon upon October the first. AndConniston still held to his determination to have everything inreadiness by the twenty-fifth of September.

  Upon the evening of the twenty-fourth of September Conniston calledupon Mr. Crawford at his cottage in Valley City. He found his employersmoking upon the little porch alone.

  When he was seated and had accepted a cigar, Conniston began abruptlywhat he had to say.

  "If you have time, Mr. Crawford, I want to make a partial report toyou to-night. Thank you. To begin with, I have completed the big dam,Dam Number One. It is all ready for business. The flume is finished,the cut made across the ridge to Dam Number Two across Indian Creek.Dam Number Two is ready. From these two dams the main canal runs,completed entirely, thirty miles and into Valley City. Dam NumberThree, Miss Crawford's Dam, is finished, and the branch canal from itto the main canal will be completed in two days. I do not believe thatthis dam is going to be an absolute necessity to us now. I think thatwe are going to have all the water from Deep Creek and Indian Creekthat we need. But Dam Number Three makes us more than confident. Andwhen later you want to extend your area of irrigated acreage you willwant it.

  "I have examined the country about the spring which Miss Crawforddiscovered, and have men working there now boring wells. There iswater there--how much I do not yet know. I have a hope, which TommyGarton thinks foolish, that we may strike artesian water out there inthe sand. At any rate, we'll get enough out of it eventually to aid inthe irrigation of that location, to be useful when you get ready tofound your second desert town. About Valley City itself I have all thecross-ditches required by your contract with Colton Gray of the P. C.& W."

  He paused, and Mr. Crawford after a moment's thoughtful silence said,quietly:

  "In other words, Mr. Conniston, you have completed all of the workwhich the contract calls for?"

  "Except one thing." Conniston smiled. "I have not put the water on theland yet. A rather important matter, isn't it?"

  "But you are ready to do that?"

  "I shall be ready to do that to-morrow at noon. And I want you to helpme. Will it be possible for you and Miss Crawford to come out to DamNumber One in the morning?"

  "You are kind to ask it," Mr. Crawford said, inclining his head. "Weshall be glad to come, Mr. Conniston. Is that the extent of yourreport?"

  "Yes. I have something else I want to say to you--but it is not aboutreclamation."

  "Shall I make my report to you first? For I feel that after all youhave done for me I should like to report, too. Every one of mycattle-ranges is mortgaged to the hilt. I do not believe that I couldraise another thousand dollars on the combined ranges. I have beendriven so close to the wall that I could not go another step. I havebeen forced to sell during the last two weeks over a thousand of myyoung cattle--to sell them at a sacrifice in order to obtain readymoney. I have enough money in the bank to conclude the financing ofour reclamation project. After the first day of October, when the P.C. & W. begins its road out to us, I can raise whatever more funds Iwant, and raise them easily.

  "You have succeeded, Mr. Conniston, and thereby you have saved me frombeing absolutely, unqualifiedly ruined. Within six months I shall havedoubled my fortune. And I shall have lived to see the most cherisheddream of my older manhood materialize. I owe very much to you, I amvery grateful to you, and I am very proud to have been associated inbusiness with a man of your caliber. And there is my hand on it!"

  "I am glad to have been of service," Conniston replied, as the twomen gripped hands. "And I appreciate your confidence. Besides," with aquick, half-serious smile, "I think that I have profited as greatly asany one else could possibly do."

  "I know what you mean. And I agree with you. Now, you said that therewas another matter--"

  "Yes. I have had a cable from my father in Paris. Because I could notagree to do a certain thing which he requested he has seen fit todisinherit me."

  "I know. Tommy Garton told me about it. And I know what the thing waswhich he required of you. I did not thank you for your answer to him,Conniston, for we both know that you did only your duty. But I knowwhat it meant, I know what your stand cost you, and I am prouder tohave known you, to feel that outside of our business relations I cansay that William Conniston, Junior, is my friend, than I have everbeen in my life to have known any other man!"

  His voice was deep with sincerity, alive with an intensity of feelingwhich drove a warm flush into Conniston's tanned face.

  "As you say, I did only what a man must do were he not a scoundrel.But, too, as you say, it means a great deal. It means that when youwill have paid me my wages I shall have not another cent in the world.And being virtually penniless, still my chief purpose in coming to youthis evening has been to tell you that I love Argyl, and that I wantyour consent to ask her to marry me."

  For a moment the older man made no reply. For a little he drewthoughtfully at his cigar, and as in its glow his grave face wasthrown into relief Conniston saw that there was a sad droop at thecorners of the firm mouth.

  "You have told Argyl?" he finally said.

  "Yes. I told her that day in the desert. I had meant to wait until thework was done, until she could have seen that I was honestly trying tolive down my utter uselessness. But--I told her then."

  "And she?"

  "She said that I might speak to you."

  "I am selfish, Conniston--selfish. Argyl has been daughter to me andson, and the best friend I have ever had. I shall miss her. But if sheloves you--Well," with a gentle smile, "she is too true a woman tohold back from your side, no matter what I might say. And since shemust leave me some day, I am very glad that you came into her life. Icongratulate you, my boy."

  While the two men were talking and waiting for Argyl to come in, TommyGarton, his new legs discarded for the day, was lying on his cot inthe back room of the general office, blowing idle puffs ofcigarette-smoke at the lamp-chimney, watching the smoke as the hotdraft from the flame sent it ceilingward. He was thinking of the talkhe had had with Conniston, how Conniston had gone to Argyl's father.

  "After all," he grunted to himself, as he pinched out his cigaretteand lighted another, "they were made for each other. And I lose my onechief bet this incarnation. Hello! Come in!" For there had come asudden sharp knocking at the outer door.

  The door was pushed open and a big man, dusty from riding, came slowlyinto the front room, cast a quick glance about him, and came on intoGarton's room. Garton started as he saw who the man was.

  "Hello, Wallace!" he said, sitting up and putting out his hand. "Whatin the world brings you here?"

  Wallace laughed, returned the greeting, and sat down upon the cotacross the room. And as he came into the circle of light thrown out bythe lamp a nickeled star shone for a moment from under his coat, whichwas carelessly flung back.

  "Jest rampsin' around, Tommy," he answered, quietly, making himself acigarette. "Jest seein' what I could see. You fellers keepin' prettybusy, ain't you?"

  "Yes. Too busy to get into trouble, Bill." He lay back and sent a newcloud of smoke to soar aloft over the lamp-chimney. "We haven't had avisit from a sheriff for six months."

  "Oh, I know you been bein' good, all right. If everybody was like youfellers I'd have one lovely, smooth job. Goin' to make a go of thisthing
, ain't you, Tommy?"

  "You bet we are!" cried Garton, enthusiastically. "There's nothing canstop us now. I expect," with a sharp look at the sheriff, "Swinnertonis feeling a bit shaky of late?"

  "Couldn't say," replied Wallace, slowly. "Ain't seen Oliver for acoon's age."

  They talked casually of many things, and Tommy Garton, to whom thesheriff's explanation of the reason for his visit to the Valley was noexplanation whatever, sat back against the wall, his head lost in theshadow cast by a coat hanging at the side of the window and betweenhim and the lamp, a frown in his eyes.

  "Any time big Bill Wallace drifts this far from his stamping-groundjust to look at a ditch I'm dreaming the whole thing," he toldhimself, as his eyes never left the sheriff's face. "And as for nothaving seen Swinnerton, that's a lie."

  Tommy Garton was already scenting something very near the actual truthwhen the telephone in the front room jangled noisily.

  "Want me to answer it?" Wallace was already on his feet.

  "Thanks," Garton told him. "But I've got it fixed so that I can handleit from here."

  He picked up the telephone which was attached to the office instrumentand which he kept on the floor at his bedside. And as he caught thefirst word he pressed the receiver close to his ear so that no soundfrom it might escape and reach his alert visitor.

  It was the Lark's voice, tense, earnest, trembling with the import ofthe Lark's message.

  "That you, Con? Garton? Conniston there? No? Tell him for me to keepunder cover. Lonesome Pete has jest rode into camp, an' he's seen thatcanary of his, an' she's been blowin' off to him. Hapgood's thicker'nthieves with Swinnerton. He's put him up to this. Swinnerton has sentthe sheriff after Con. He's to jug him for killin' that Chink! Get me?Jest to hold him in the can so's he can't work until after Octoberfirst. Get me, 'bo? You'll put Con wise? Wallace ought to be there anyminute--"

  Garton answered as quietly as he could:

  "All right. I'll attend to everything. Good-by." And then, setting thetelephone back upon the floor, he took a fresh cigarette from hiscase, lighted it over the lamp, his face showing calm and unconcerned,and, leaning back, began to think swiftly.

  Conniston was now with the Crawfords. Presently he would leave themand return to the office to spend the night with Garton. Bill Wallaceevidently knew this, and was content to wait quietly until his mancame. Lonesome Pete had done his part, had ridden with all possiblespeed to Deep Creek, where he had supposed Conniston was. The Lark haddone his part. The rest was up to Tommy Garton. For he knew that withConniston left to continue his work the work would be done. He knewthat Conniston had every detail now at his fingers' ends. He knew thatif Swinnerton could succeed in this coup he might be able to put somefurther unexpected, some fatal obstacle in the way of the Great Work.And that then, with Conniston out of it, it again would be "anybody'sgame."

  Wallace was talking again about unimportant nothings, Garton wasanswering him in monosyllables and striving to see the way, to findout the thing which he must do. It was plain that Conniston must beprevented from coming to the office to-night. And when he saw the waybefore him he asked, carelessly:

  "You'll stay with me to-night, Bill?"

  "If you got the room, Tommy." He glanced about the little room. "Thisbed ain't workin'?"

  "Conniston, our superintendent, will sleep there to-night. He'll be inin an hour or so. But I've got blankets, and if you care to make a bedon the floor, there's lots of room."

  "I'll do it," laughed the sheriff, stretching his great legs far outin front of him. "It'll do me good. I been sleepin' in a bed so manynights runnin' lately I'll be gettin' soft."

  "All right. And if you'll pardon me a minute I want to telephone myassistant. I've just got word of some work which must be ready bymorning. Not much rest on this job, Bill."

  He picked up the telephone again and called Billy Jordan.

  "I wish you'd run around for a minute, Billy," he said, his toneevincing none of the tremor which he felt in his heart. "Bring thefifth and seventh sheets of those computations you took home with you.Yes, the figures for the work we are to do at the spring. Yes, you'dbetter hurry with them, as I want to look 'em over before morning.There's a ball-up somewhere. So long, Billy."

  He had seen that Bill Wallace, whose business it was to be suspiciousat all times and of all men, had regarded him with narrowed, shrewdeyes.

  When Billy Jordan came in, ten minutes later, in no way surprised atthe summons, since he had been called on similar errands many times,he found Bill Wallace telling a story and Tommy Garton chucklingappreciatively.

  "You know each other?" Garton asked. "Wallace says he's just over hereto look around at the beauties of nature, Billy. I've an idea," with awink at Wallace, "that he's looking for somebody. You haven't beenpassing any bad money, have you, Billy? Much obliged for the papers."He glanced at them and pushed them under the pillows of his cot."That's all now, Billy. Except that on your way home I want you todrop in and see Mr. Crawford. Tell him that if he sees Conniston Iwant him to tell him to be sure and come right around. There's aball-up in the work out at the spring. Wait a second." He scribbled anote upon the leaf of the note-book which lay upon the window-sill."Give that to Mr. Crawford. It's an order to Mundy to cut the mainditch out there down to four feet, and to stop work on the well thatis causing trouble, until further orders. Mundy will be going outagain to-night, and will stop at Crawford's first. Good night, Billy.And come in early in the morning."

  Mundy's name did not appear in the note. Mundy was at the time twentymiles from Valley City. But Mr. Crawford's name was there, and afterit was "_Urgent_," underlined. The note itself ran:

  "_Wallace is here to arrest Conniston for murder of Chinaman shot in whisky rebellion! A put-up game with Swinnerton to stop his work. Tell Conniston to go back to Deep Creek to-night. Send Brayley to me immediately. Let no one else come. I'll entertain the sheriff to-night._

  "GARTON."

  Billy loitered a minute, yawned two or three times, and finally saidgood night and strolled leisurely away.

  "I think," said Wallace, rising as the door closed behind BillyJordan, "I'll go out an' unsaddle my cayuse. Got a handful of hay inthe shed, Tommy?"

  "Sure thing, Bill. Help yourself."

  Wallace picked up his hat and turned to the door. Garton rolled oversuddenly, thrust his hand again under his pillow, and sat up.

  "Say, Bill!" he called, softly.

  Wallace turned, and as he did so he looked square into the muzzle of aheavy-caliber Colt revolver upon which the lamplight shone dully.

  "Stop that!" cried Garton, sternly, as the sheriff's hand startedautomatically to his hip. "I've got the drop on you, Bill. And,sheriff or no sheriff, I'll drop you if you make a move. Put 'em up,Bill."

  Snarling, his face going a sudden angry red, the sheriff lifted histwo big hands high above his head.

  "What do you mean by this?" he snapped.

  "I mean business! Now you do what I tell you. Walk this way, and walkslowly."

  "D----n you, you little sawed-off--" roared the big man, only to becut short with an incisive:

  "Never mind about calling names. And remember that no matter if onlyhalf a man is behind this gun it 'll shoot just the same. Keep thosehands up, Bill! Now turn around. Back up to me. And let me tell yousomething: you can whirl about and bring your hands down on my head,but that won't stop a bullet in your belly. The same place," he said,coolly, "that Conniston shot the Chinaman!"

  Bill Wallace had got his position as sheriff for two very goodreasons. For one thing, he belonged to Oliver Swinnerton. For another,he was a brave man. But he was not a fool, and he did what Gartoncommanded him to do. And Tommy Garton, with the muzzle of his revolverjammed tight against the small of Wallace's back, reached out with hisleft hand and drew the sheriff's two revolvers from their holsters,dropping them to the floor behind his cot.

  "And now, Bill, you can go and sit down. And you can take your handsdown, too."
>
  "I'd like to know," sputtered Wallace, as he sat glaring across thelittle room at the strange half-figure propped up against the wall andcovering him unwaveringly with a revolver, "what all this means!"

  "Would you? Then I'll tell you. It means that no little man likeOliver Swinnerton, and no smooth tool belonging to Oliver Swinnerton,is going to keep us from living up to our contract with the P. C. &W. Not if they resort to all of the dirty work their maggot-infestedbrains can concoct!"

  When Brayley came in he found two men smoking cigarettes and sittingin watchful silence. And when Brayley understood conditions fully hetook a chair in the doorway, moved his revolver so that it hung fromhis belt across his lap, and joined them in quiet smoking.

  * * * * *

  "To-morrow," Conniston was saying to Argyl, just as Tommy Gartoncalled to Wallace to put his hands up, "we are going to open the gatesat Dam Number One, and the water will run down into the main canal andfind its way to Valley City. I think we have won, Argyl!"