'Firebrand' Trevison

by Charles Alden Seltzer

  CHAPTER XVIII

  LAW INVOKED AND DEFIED

  As soon as the deputies had gone, two of them nursing injured heads, andall exhibiting numerous bruises, Judge Lindman rose and dressed. In theghostly light preceding the dawn he went to the safe, his fingerstrembling so that he made difficult work with the combination. He got arecord from out of the safe, pulled out the bottom drawer, of a seriesfilled with legal documents and miscellaneous articles, laid the recordbook on the floor and shoved the drawer in over it. An hour later he wasfacing Corrigan, who on getting a report of the incident from one of thedeputies, had hurried to get the Judge's version. The Judge had had timeto regain his composure, though he was still slightly pale and nervous.

  The Judge lied glibly. He had seen no one in the courthouse. His firstknowledge that anyone had been there had come when he had heard the voiceof one, of the deputies, calling to him. And then all he had seen was ashadowy figure that had leaped and struck. After that there had been someshooting. And then the men had escaped.

  "No one spoke?"

  "Not a word," said the Judge. "That is, of course, no one but the man whocalled to me."

  "Did they take anything?"

  "What is there to take? There is nothing of value."

  "Gieger says one of them was working at the safe. What's in there?"

  "Some books and papers and supplies--nothing of value. That they tried toget into the safe would seem to indicate that they thought there was moneythere--Manti has many strangers who would not hesitate at robbery."

  "They didn't get into the safe, then?"

  "I haven't looked inside--nothing seems to be disturbed, as it would werethe men safe-blowers. In their hurry to get away it would seem, if theyhad come to get into the safe, they would have left somethingbehind--tools, or something of that character."

  "Let's have a look at the safe. Open it!" Corrigan seemed to besuspicious, and with a pulse of trepidation, the Judge knelt and workedthe combination. When the door came open Corrigan dropped on his knees infront of it and began to pull out the contents, scattering them in hiseagerness. He stood up after a time, scowling, his face flushed. He turnedon the Judge, grasped him by the shoulders, his fingers gripping so hardthat the Judge winced.

  "Look here, Lindman," he said. "Those men were not ordinary robbers.Experienced men would know better than to crack a safe in a courthousewhen there's a bank right next door. I've an idea that it was some ofTrevison's work. You've done or said something that's given him the notionthat you've got the original record. Have you?"

  "I swear I have said nothing," declared the Judge.

  Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and then released him. "Youburned it, eh?"

  The Judge nodded, and Corrigan compressed his lips. "I suppose it's allright, but I can't help wishing that I had been here to watch the ceremonyof burning that record. I'd feel a damn sight more secure. But understandthis: If you double-cross me in any detail of this game, you'll never goto the penitentiary for what Benham knows about you--I'll choke thegizzard out of you!" He took a turn around the room, stopping at last infront of the Judge.

  "Now we'll talk business. I want you to issue an order permitting me toerect mining machinery on Trevison's land. We need coal here."

  "Graney gave notice of appeal," protested the Judge.

  "Which the Circuit Court denied."

  "He'll go to Washington," persisted the Judge, gulping. "I can't legallydo it."

  Corrigan laughed. "Appoint a receiver to operate the mine, pending theSupreme Court decision. Appoint Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. Thereis no record or deed."

  "There is no need of haste," Lindman cautioned; "you can't get miningmachinery here for some time yet."

  Corrigan laughed, dragging the Judge to a window, from which he pointedout some flat-cars standing on a siding, loaded with lumber, machinery,corrugated iron, shutes, cables, trucks, "T" rails, and other articlesthat the Judge did not recognize.

  The Judge exclaimed in astonishment. Corrigan grunted.

  "I ordered that stuff six weeks ago, in anticipation of my victory in yourcourt. You can see how I trusted in your honesty and perspicacity. I'llhave it on the ground tomorrow--some of it today. Of course I want toproceed legally, and in order to do that I'll have to have the court orderthis morning. You do whatever is necessary."

  At daylight he was in the laborers' camp, skirting the railroad at theedge of town, looking for Carson. He found the big Irishman in one of thelarger tent-houses, talking with the cook, who was preparing breakfastamid a smother of smoke and the strong mingled odors of frying bacon andcoffee. Corrigan went only to the flap of the tent, motioning Carsonoutside.

  Walking away from the tent toward some small frame buildings down thetrack, Corrigan said:

  "There are several carloads of material there," pointing to the flat-carswhich he had shown to the Judge. "I've hired a mining man to superintendthe erection of that stuff--it's mining machinery and material forbuildings. I want you to place as many of your men as you can spare at thedisposal of the engineer; his name's Pickand, and you'll find him at thecars at eight o'clock. I'll have some more laborers sent over from thedam. Give him as many men as he wants; go with him yourself, if he wantsyou."

  "What are ye goin' to mine?"

  "Coal."

  "Where?"

  "I've been looking over the land with Pickand; he says we'll sink a shaftat the base of the butte below the mesa, where you are laying tracks now.We won't have to go far, Pickand says. There's coal--thick veins ofit--running back into the wall of the butte."

  "All right, sir," said Carson. But he scratched his head in perplexity,eyeing Corrigan sidelong. "Ye woudn't be sayin' that ye'll be diggin' forcoal on the railroad's right av way, wud ye?"

  "No!" snapped Corrigan.

  "Thin it will be on Trevison's land. Have ye bargained wid him for it?"

  "No! Look here, Carson. Mind your own business and do as you're told!"

  "I'm elicted, I s'pose; but it's a job I ain't admirin' to do. If ye'vegot half the sinse I give ye credit for havin', ye'll be lettin' that monTrevison alone--I'd a lot sooner smoke a segar in that shed av dynamitethan to cross him!"

  Corrigan smiled and turned to look in the direction in which the Irishmanwas pointing. A small, flat-roofed frame building, sheathed withcorrugated iron, met his view. Crude signs, large enough to be readhundreds of feet distant, were affixed to the walls:

  "CAUTION. DYNAMITE."

  "Do you keep much of it there?"

  "Enough for anny blastin' we have to do. There's plenty--half a ton,mebbe."

  "Who's got the key?"

  "Meself."

  Corrigan returned to town, breakfasted, mounted a horse and rode out tothe dam, where he gave orders for some laborers to be sent to Carson. Atnine o'clock he was back in Manti talking with Pickand, and watching thedinky engine as it pulled the loaded flat-cars westward over the tracks.He left Pickand and went to his office in the bank building, where heconferred with some men regarding various buildings and improvements incontemplation, and shortly after ten, glancing out of a window, he saw abuckboard stop in front of the _Castle_ hotel. Corrigan waited a little,then closed his desk and walked across the street. Shortly he confrontedHester Harvey in her room. He saw from her downcast manner that she hadfailed. His face darkened.

  "Wouldn't work, eh? What did he say?"

  The woman was hunched down in her chair, still wearing the cloak that shehad worn in Trevison's office; the collar still up, the front thrown open.Her hair was disheveled; dark lines were under her eyes; she glared atCorrigan in an abandon of savage dejection.

  "He turned me down--cold." Her laugh held the bitterness of self-derision."I'm through, there, Jeff."

  "Hell!" cursed the man. She looked at him, her lips curving with amusedcontempt.

  "Oh, you're all right--don't worry. That's all you care about, isn't it?"She laughed harshly at the quickened light in his eyes. "Y
ou'd see mesacrifice myself; you wouldn't give me a word of sympathy. That's you!That's the way of all men. Give, give, give! That's the masculinechorus--the hunting-song of the human wolf-pack!"

  "Don't talk like that--it ain't like you, kid. You were always the gamestlittle dame I ever knew." He essayed to take the hand that was twisted inthe folds of her cloak, but she drew it away from him in a fury. And theeagerness in his eyes betrayed the insincerity of his attempt atconsolation; she saw it--the naked selfishness of his look--and sneered athim.

  "You want the good news, eh? The good for you? That's all you care about.After you get it, I'll get the husks of your pity. Well, here it is. I'vepoisoned them both--against each other. I told him she was against him inthis land business. And it hurt me to see how gamely he took it, Jeff!"her voice broke, but she choked back the sob and went on, hoarsely: "Hedidn't make a whimper. Not even when I told him you were going to marryher--that you were engaged. But there was a fire in those eyes of his thatI would give my soul to see there for me!"

  "Yes--yes," said the man, impatiently.

  "Oh, you devil!" she railed at him. "I've made him think it was a frame-upbetween you and her--to get information out of him; I told him that shehad strung him along for a month or so--amusing herself. And he believesit."

  "Good!"

  "And I've made her believe that he sent for me," she went on, her voiceleaping to cold savagery. "I stayed all night at his place, and I wentback to the Bar B in the morning--this morning--and made Rosalind Benhamthink--Ha, ha! She ordered me away from the house--the hussy! She'sthrough with him--any fool could tell that. But it's different with him,Jeff. He won't give her up; he isn't that kind. He'll fight for her--andhe'll have her!"

  The eager, pleased light died out of Corrigan's face, his lips set in anugly pout. But he contrived to smile as he got up.

  "You've done well--so far. But don't give him up. Maybe he'll change hismind. Stay here--I'll stake you to the limit." He laid a roll of bills ona stand--she did not look at them--and approached her in a second endeavorto console her. But she waved him away, saying: "Get out of here--I wantto think!" And he obeyed, looking back before he closed the door.

  "Selfish?" he muttered, going down the street. "Well, what of it? That's ahuman weakness, isn't it? Get what you want, and to hell with otherpeople!"

  * * * * *

  Trevison had gone to his room for a much-needed rest. He had watchedHester Harvey go with no conscious regret, but with a certain grim pity,which was as futile as her visit. But, lying on the bed he fought hardagainst the bitter scorn that raged in him over the contemplation ofRosalind Benham's duplicity. He found it hard to believe that she had beenduping him, for during the weeks of his acquaintance with her he hadstudied her much--with admiration-weighted prejudice, of course, since shemade a strong appeal to him--and he had been certain, then, that she wasas free from guile as a child--excepting any girl's natural artifices bywhich she concealed certain emotions that men had no business trying toread. He had read some of them--his business or not--and he had imaginedhe had seen what had fired his blood--a reciprocal affection. He would nothave declared himself, otherwise.

  He went to sleep, thinking of her. He awoke about noon, to see Barkwellstanding at his side, shaking him.

  "Have you got any understandin' with that railroad gang that they're to doany minin' on the Diamond K range?"

  "No."

  "Well, they're gettin' ready to do it. Over at the butte near the railroadcut. I passed there a while ago an' quizzed the big guy--Corrigan--about agang workin' there. He says they're goin' to mine coal. I asked him if hehad your permission an' he said he didn't need it. I reckon they ain'tnone shy on gall where that guy come from!"

  Trevison got out of bed and buckled on his cartridge belt and pistol. "Theboys are working the Willow Creek range," he said, sharply. "Get them,tell them to load up with plenty of cartridges, and join me at thebutte."

  He heard Barkwell go leaping down the stairs, his spurs striking the stepedges, and a few minutes later, riding Nigger out of the corral he saw theforeman racing away in a dust cloud. He followed the bed of the river,himself, going at a slow lope, for he wanted time to think--to gaincontrol of the rage that boiled in his veins. He conquered it, and when hecame in sight of the butte he was cool and deliberate, though on his facewas that "mean" look that Carson had once remarked about to his friendMurphy, partly hidden by the "tiger" smile which, the Irishman haddiscovered, preceded action, ruthless and swift.

  The level below the butte was a-buzz with life and energy. Scores oflaborers were rushing about under the direction of a tall, thin,bespectacled man who seemed to be the moving spirit in all the activity.He shouted orders to Carson--Trevison saw the big figure of the Irishmandominating the laborers--who repeated them, added to them; sending menscampering hither and thither. Pausing at a little distance down thelevel, Trevison watched the scene. At first all seemed confusion, butpresently he was able to discern that method ruled. For he now observedthat the laborers were divided into "gangs." Some were unloading theflat-cars, others were "assembling" a stationary engine near the wall ofthe butte. They had a roof over it, already. Others were laying tracksthat intersected with the main line; still others were erecting buildingsalong the level. They were on Trevison's land--there was no doubt of that.Moreover, they were erecting their buildings and apparatus at the pointwhere Trevison himself had contemplated making a start. He saw Corriganseated on a box on one of the flat-cars, smoking a cigar; another man,whom Trevison recognized as Gieger--he would have been willing to swearthe man was one of those who had thwarted his plans in thecourthouse--standing beside him, a Winchester rifle resting in the hollowof his left arm. Trevison urged Nigger along the level, down the track,and halted near Corrigan and Gieger. He knew that Corrigan had seen him,but it pleased the other to pretend that he had not.

  "This is your work, Corrigan--I take it?" said Trevison, bluntly.

  Corrigan turned slowly. He was a good actor, for he succeeded in getting afairly convincing counterfeit of surprise into his face as his gaze fellon his enemy.

  "You have taken it correctly, sir." He smiled blandly, though there was asnapping alertness in his eyes that belied his apparent calmness. Heturned to Gieger, ignoring Trevison. "Organization is the thing. Pickandis a genius at it," he said.

  Trevison's eyes flamed with rage over this deliberate insult. But in it hesaw a cold design to make him lose his temper. The knowledge brought atwisting smile to his face.

  "You have permission to begin this work, I suppose?"

  Corrigan turned again, as though astonished at the persistence of theother. "Certainly, sir. This work is being done under a court order,issued this morning. I applied for it yesterday. I am well within my legalrights, the court having as you are aware, settled the question of thetitle."

  "You know I have appealed the case?"

  "I have not been informed that you have done so. In any event such anappeal would not prevent me mining the coal on the property, pending thehearing of the case in the higher court. Judge Lindman has appointed areceiver, who is bonded; and the work is to proceed under his direction. Iam here merely as an onlooker."

  He looked fairly at Trevison, his eyes gleaming with cold derision. Theexpression maddened the other beyond endurance, and his eyes danced thechill glitter of meditated violence, unrecking consequences.

  "You're a sneaking crook, Corrigan, and you know it! You're going too far!You've had Braman appointed in order to escape the responsibility! You'rehiding behind him like a coward! Come out into the open and fight like aman!"

  Corrigan's face bloated poisonously, but he made no hostile move. "I'llkill you for that some day!" he whispered. "Not now," he laughedmirthlessly as the other stiffened; "I can't take the risk right now--I'vetoo much depending on me. But you've been damned impertinent andtroublesome, and when I get you where I want you I'm going to serve youlike this!" And he took the cigar from hi
s mouth, dropped it to the floorof the car and ground it to pieces under his heel. He looked up again, atTrevison, and their gaze met, in each man's eyes glowed the knowledge ofimminent action, ruthless and terrible.

  Trevison broke the tension with a laugh that came from between his teeth."Why delay?" he mocked. "I've been ready for the grinding process sincethe first day."

  "Enough of this!" Corrigan turned to Gieger with a glance of coldintolerance. "This man is a nuisance," he said to the deputy. "Carry outthe mandate of the court and order him away. If he doesn't go, kill him!He is a trespasser, and has no right here!" And he glared at Trevison.

  "You've got to get out, mister," said the deputy. He tapped his riflemenacingly, betraying a quick accession of rage that he caught, no doubt,from Corrigan. Trevison smiled coldly, and backed Nigger a little. For aninstant he meditated resistance, and dropped his right hand to the butt ofhis pistol. A shout distracted his attention. It came from behind him--itsounded like a warning, and he wheeled, to see Carson running toward him,not more than ten feet distant, waving his hands, a huge smile on hisface.

  "Domned if it ain't Trevison!" he yelled as he lunged forward and caughtTrevison's right hand in his own, pulling the rider toward him. "I've beenwantin' to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now--about thim cows which mebrother in Illinoy has been askin' me about, an' divvil a chance have Ihad to see ye!" And as he yanked Trevison's shoulders downward with asudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered, rapidly.

  "Diputies--thirty av thim wid Winchesters--on the other side av theflat-cars. It's a thrap to do away wid ye--I heard 'em cookin' it!"

  "An' ye wudn't be sellin' 'em to me at twinty-five, eh?" he said, aloud."Go 'long wid ye--ye're a domned hold-up man, like all the rist av thim!"And he slapped the black horse playfully in the ribs and laughed gleefullyas the animal lunged at him, ears laid back, mouth open.

  His eyes cold, his lips hard and straight, Trevison spurred the blackagain to the flat-car.

  "The bars are down between us, Corrigan; it's man to man from now on. Lawor no law, I give you twenty-four hours to get your men and apparatus offmy land. After that I won't be responsible for what happens!" He heard ashout behind him, a clatter, and he turned to see ten or twelve of his menracing over the level toward him. At the same instant he heard a sharpexclamation from Corrigan; heard Gieger issue a sharp order, and a line ofmen raised their heads above the flat-cars, rifles in their hands, whichthey trained on the advancing cowboys.

  Nigger leaped; his rider holding up one hand, the palm toward his men, asa sign to halt, while he charged into them. Trevison talked fast to them,while the laborers, suspending work, watched, muttering; and the rifles,resting on the flat-cars, grew steadier in their owners' hands. Thesilence grew deeper; the tension was so great that when somewhere a mandropped a shovel, it startled the watchers like a sudden bomb.

  It was plain that Trevison's men wanted to fight. It was equally plainthat Trevison was arguing to dissuade them. And when, muttering, andcasting belligerent looks backward, they finally drew off, Trevisonfollowing, there was a sigh of relief from the watchers, while Corrigan'sface was black with disappointment.