The Rules of the Game

by Stewart Edward White

  XXXVII

  The coroner's inquest detained Bob over until the week following. In itAmy's testimony as to the gun-man's appearance and evident intention wasquite sufficient to excuse Ware's shooting; and the fact that Oldham, ashe was still known, instead of Saleratus Bill, received the bullet wasevidently sheer unavoidable accident. Bob's testimony added little savecorroboration. As soon as he could get away, he took the road toFremont.

  Orde was awaiting his son at the station. Bob saw the straight, heavyfigure, the tanned face with the snow-white moustache, before the trainhad come to a stop. Full of eagerness, he waved his hat over the head ofthe outraged porter barricaded on the lower steps by his customaryaccumulation of suit cases.

  "Hullo, dad! Hullo, there!" he shouted again and again, quite obliviousto the amusement of the other passengers over this tall and bronzedyoung man's enthusiasm.

  Orde caught sight of his son at last; his face lit up, and he, too,swung his hat. A moment later they had clasped hands.

  After the first greetings, Bob gave his suit case in charge to the hotelbus-man.

  "We'll take a little walk up the street and talk things over," hesuggested.

  They sauntered slowly up the hill and down the side streets beneath thepepper and acacia trees of Fremont's beautiful thoroughfares. Soabsorbed did they become that they did not realize in the slightestwhere they were going, so that at last they had topped the ridge and,from the stretch of the Sunrise Drive, they looked over into the canon.

  "So you've been getting into trouble, have you?" chaffed Orde, as theyleft the station.

  "I don't know about that," Bob rejoined. "I do know that there are quitea number of people in trouble."

  Orde laughed.

  "Tell me about this Welton difficulty," said he. "Frank Taylor has ourown matters well in hand. The opposition won't gain much by digging upthat old charge against the integrity of our land titles. We'll countthat much wiped off the slate."

  "I'm glad to hear it," said Bob heartily. "Well, the trouble with Mr.Welton is that the previous administration held him up--" He detailedthe aspects of the threatened bribery case; while Orde listened withoutcomment. "So," he concluded, "it looked at first as if they rather hadhim, if I testified. It had me guessing. I hated the thought of gettinga man like Mr. Welton in trouble of that sort over a case in which hewas no way interested."

  "What did you decide?" asked Orde curiously.

  "I decided to testify."

  "That's right."

  "I suppose so. I felt a little better about it, because they had me inthe same boat. That let me out in my own feelings, naturally."

  "How?" asked Orde swiftly.

  "There had been trouble up there between Plant--you remember I wrote youof the cattle difficulties?"

  "With Simeon Wright? I know all that."

  "Well, one of the cattlemen was ruined by Plant's methods; his wife andchild died from want of care on that account. He was the one who killedPlant; you remember that."

  "Yes."

  "I happened to be near and I helped him escape."

  "And some one connected with the Modoc Company was a witness,"conjectured Orde. "Who was it?"

  "A man who went under the name of Oldham. A certain familiarity puzzledme for a long time. Only the other day I got it. He was Mr. Newmark."

  "Newmark!" cried Orde, stopping short and staring fixedly at his son.

  "Yes; the man who was your partner when I was a very small boy. Youremember?"

  "Remember!" repeated Orde; then in tones of great energy: "He and I bothhave reason to remember well enough! Where is he now? I can put a stopto him in about two jumps!"

  "You won't need to," said Bob quietly; "he's dead--shot last week."

  For some moments nothing more was said, while the two men trudgedbeneath the hanging peppers near the entrance to Sunrise Drive.

  "I always wondered why he had it in for me, and why he acted soqueerly," Bob broke the silence at last. "He seemed to have a specialand personal enmity for me. I always felt it, but I couldn't make itout."

  "He had plenty of reasons for that. But it's funny Welton didn'trecognize the whelp."

  "Mr. Welton never saw him," Bob explained--"that is, until Newmark wasdead. Then he recognized him instantly. What was it all about?"

  Orde indicated the bench on the canon's edge.

  "Let's sit," said he. "Newmark and I made our start together. For eightyears we worked together and built up a very decent business. Then, allat once, I discovered that he was plotting systematically to do me outof every cent we had made. It was the most cold-blooded proposition Iever ran across."

  "Couldn't you prove it on him?" asked Bob.

  "I could prove it all right; but the whole affair made me sick. He'dalways been the closest friend, in a way, I had ever had; and the shockof discovering what he really was drove everything else out of my head.I was young then. It seemed to me that all I wanted was to wipe thewhole affair off the slate, to get it behind me, to forget it--so I lethim go."

  "I don't believe I'd have done that. Seems to me I'd have had to blowoff steam," Bob commented.

  Orde smiled reminiscently.

  "I blew off steam," [A] said he. "It was rather fantastic; but Iactually believe it was one of the most satisfactory episodes in mylife. I went around to his place--he lived rather well in bachelorquarters, which was a new thing in those days--and locked the door andtold him just why I was going to let him off. It tickled him hugely--forabout a minute. Then I finished up by giving him about the very worstlicking he ever heard tell of."

  [Footnote A: See "The Riverman."]

  "Was that what you told him?" cried Bob.

  "What?"

  "Did you say those words to him?--'I'm going to give you the very worstlicking you ever heard tell of'?"

  "Why, I believe I did."

  Bob threw back his head and laughed.

  "So did I!" he cried; and then, after a moment, more soberly. "I think,incidentally, it saved my life."

  "Now what are you driving at?" asked Orde.

  "Listen, this is funny: Newmark had me kidnapped by one of his men, andlugged off to a little valley in the mountains. The idea was to keep methere until after the trial, so my testimony would not appear. You see,none of our side knew I had that testimony. I hadn't told anybody,because I had been undecided as to what I was going to do."

  Orde whistled.

  "I got away, and had quite a time getting home. I'll tell you all thedetails some other time. On the road I met Newmark. I was pretty mad, soI lit into him stiff-legged. After a few words he got scared and pulleda gun on me. I was just mad enough to keep coming, and I swear I believehe was just on the point of shooting, when I said those very samewords: 'I'm going to give you the very worst licking you ever heardtell of.' He turned white as a sheet and dropped his gun. I thought hewas a coward; but I guess it was conscience and luck. Now, wouldn't thatcome and get you?"

  "Did you?" asked Orde.

  "Did I what?"

  "Give him that licking?"

  "I sure did start out to; but I couldn't bring myself to more than shakehim up a little."

  Orde rose, stretching his legs.

  "What are your plans now?"

  "To see Baker. I'm going to tell him that on the first indications ofhis making trouble I'm going to enter complaint for bribery against_both_ him and Mr. Welton. You see, I was there too. Think it'll work?"

  "The best way is to go and see."

  "Come on," said Bob.