CHAPTER XII
The first intimation that Bob received of this laxity came in the shapeof a sharp dig in the ribs from the index finger of a young man whodemanded to know why Mr. McGraw didn't wake up and pay for his lodging.Bob turned his startled sleepy eyes up at the stranger. He had expectedto confront a janitor, but his first glance informed him that he wasmistaken. The individual before him evidently was a state employee; butfor all that Bob could advance no excuse for his free and easy action inassaulting him with his index finger. No one except the janitor or thenight watchman had a right to such familiarity with Mr. McGraw's ribsand he resented being told to wake up before he was ready.
"You'll have to get out of my way, friend" the stranger informed him.
"Not if I know it, old-timer" replied Bob. "I'm first in line, withorders to stick here and maintain my position at all hazards. I'll sharethe suit-case with you, but you mustn't try to crush in in advance ofme."
The stranger eyed him curiously. "I'm an employee of the state landoffice" he said coolly. "Please permit me to get into the office."
Bob looked at his watch. It was just eight o'clock, and he knew that theland office did not open until nine. He wondered who this industriousindividual might be and what reason he had for getting down to workan hour beforehand; and then; like a bolt from the blue, The Big Ideaflashed into Bob McGraw's brain.
He yawned sleepily. "Great snakes!" he said, "I've been waiting here anhour for you. I beg your pardon, old-timer. I didn't recognize you atfirst, although I should have known you right off by that little mole onyour left cheek."
He scrambled to his feet and picked up his suit-case, while the strangerlooked at him sharply.
"Why are you here so early?" he demanded. Bob McGraw would have liked toask him the same question but he refrained.
"There's been an inquisitive stranger investigating the old manand--well, you know what a fox Carey is? At the last moment it didn'tseem wise to come through on the original programme, so I came upinstead. I'm used to taking chances and I'm going to be well paid forthis."
Was it fancy, or did Bob really detect a more friendly light in theman's eyes? He decided that he had not overplayed his hand, so, fearfulthat he might, he remained discreetly silent and waited for the door tobe opened. The stranger inserted the key in the lock and stepped intothe room. Bob followed him uninvited, turned carefully and sprung thelock on the door. The deputy (for such Bob guessed him to be) passedthrough a gate in the counter and on into an inner office. He returneda moment later, pulling on his office coat. At the counter he paused andfaced Bob. There was still a suspicious look in his alert intelligenteyes.
Bob drew the fifty applications from his suit-case and passed them overthe counter. "Hurry with them" he said. "There isn't any time to lose.Did Carey tell you anything about that fellow McGraw, who filed on theCottonwood lake water?"
The deputy nodded.
"He's dangerous" warned Mr. McGraw. "He's tumbled to the littlecombination and he'll upset the apple-cart if you don't beat him to it.He may attempt to bully the old man into a consolidation by threateningto mandamus your chief and force him to accept the filings. McGraw'sdangerous and he's got big influence behind him. The old man's worried."
The deputy arched his eyebrows cynically. "Where do you come in?" hequeried.
Bob drew back the lapel of his coat and showed the butt of his automaticgun nestling under his left arm.
"I'm playing a purely professional engagement, my friend. If McGrawshould show up here this morning it is my business to take care of him."
The deputy's suspicions were allayed at last. He smiled in friendlyfashion.
"Keep him away until nine-thirty and there's no danger" he said. Hescooped up Bob's applications and skimmed through them. "Did you bringthe coin?"
Bob placed twelve hundred and fifty dollars on the counter and shoved ittoward the deputy.
"I won't wait for the receipts. It's too risky. Make them out as fastas you can and I'll call for them after the office opens." He grinnedknowingly. "I'm going out in the corridor to keep inquisitive peopleaway and give you time to work."
"You didn't bring the instruments of abandonment for the old filings--"
"I know it. Carey has them. He'll probably bring them over himself laterin the day. Too risky--getting over here so early. There's a gumshoe manon his trail."
"All right" said the deputy, and hastened to his desk with the bundle ofapplications. Bob unlatched the door, peered cautiously up and down thedeserted corridor, and apparently finding the coast clear stepped outinto the hall.
For fifteen minutes he walked up and down the corridor without meetingany one more formidable than the janitor, and presently the janitor,having completed the sweeping of the corridor, betook himself andhis brooms elsewhere. He came back a few minutes later, however, anddisappeared in a small room at the end of the corridor, only to reappearagain with a bucket of wet sawdust in his hand.
Bob McGraw walked to the main entrance of the State House and back againto the door of the land office. Still nobody came. He was approachingthe main entrance to the State House a second time when he heard anautomobile chugging through the capitol grounds and pause outside themain entrance. Half a minute later a man appeared at the head of thecorridor and approached rapidly. As he came nearer Bob saw that he wasabout fifty years old. He wore a carefully trimmed imperial and a goldpince-nez and seemed to exude a general air of pomposity and power.He had glittering cold gray eyes and they snapped now with anger andapprehension as he half walked, half ran, down the corridor. Bob's keenglance, roving over the man for details, observed that he carried asmall Gladstone bag in his right hand, but inasmuch as the front end ofthe bag carried no initials, Bob waited until the man had passed himand then cast a sidelong glance at the other end of it. In small goldletters across its base he read the initials: T. M. C.
"T. Morgan Carey!"
In a bound Bob was at the stranger's side and laid a firm detaining gripon the latter's arm. The man turned angrily and glared at Bob.
"Mr. T. Morgan Carey?" said Bob McGraw quietly, "you're wanted!"
The man trembled. Bob could feel a distinct quiver pass up the arm hewas holding.
"Wha--what--who wants me?" he said.
"Your dear old Uncle Samuel. He'd like to have you explain a delicatematter in connection with the public domain. Give me the little grip andcome along quietly. I think that would be the better way. If you make arow about it, of course I'll have to put the bracelets on you; and I'msure neither of us wishes that to happen, Mr. Carey."
Bob spoke kindly, almost regretfully, but there was no mistaking thefact that he meant business. T. Morgan Carey's face was ghastly. Hesurrendered the grip without protest, the while he gazed at Bob likea trapped animal. Presently he managed to pull himself togethersufficiently to demand in a trembling voice:
"But--why--I don't understand. Where's your authority? Have you awarrant for--this--this outrageous procedure?"
"I have no warrant for you, Mr. Carey. I--"
"Then let me pass about my business, sir. How dare--"
"Easy, easy! You are not arrested in the commonly accepted sense ofthat term, but if you play horse with me you will be. I came here thismorning to find you and ask you to come quietly with me and answer a fewquestions; also to let me see what you're carrying in this grip.Come along now, Carey. You only make out a case against yourself byresisting. I suppose you are aware of the fact that a secret serviceagent requires no warrant to make an arrest. (Bob did not know thatsuch was the case, but he made the statement at any rate.) You aretemporarily--apprehended--upon information and belief. If you areworried about the publicity that may attach, I give you my word thenewspapers shall not hear of this unless a formal charge is enteredagainst you. Come with me if you please, Mr. Carey."
He drew Carey's right arm through his own strong left and marched himdown the corridor. It had been his first intention to escort T. MorganCarey to the office of the now
defunct Desert Development Company andlock him up there for the good of his soul--but a more convenient meansof marooning his enemy now presented itself. The door to the janitor'sroom was open; an electric light burned within, and from the keyhole ofthe half open door a bunch of keys was suspended.
Bob's brain worked with the rapidity of a camera-shutter. He threwCarey's bag into the room, whirled and clamped his right handover Carey's mouth, while with his powerful left arm around theland-grabber's body he gently steered his victim into the room. Careystruggled desperately, but Bob held him powerless. Finding himself ashelpless as a child in that grizzly-bear grip, he ceased his struggles.Instantly he was tripped up and laid gently on the floor, on his back,with Bob McGraw's one hundred and eighty pounds of bone and musclecamped on his torso, holding him down. With his right hand effectuallysilencing Carey's gurgling cries for help, and a knee on each arm tohold Carey still, with his left hand Bob drew a bandanna handkerchieffrom his pocket and gagged his man with as much ease as he would havemuzzled a little dog. Then he searched through his victim's pocketsuntil he found the land-grabber's handkerchief; whereupon he floppedCarey on his face and bound his hands behind him. It was but the workof an instant for Bob to tear off his own suspenders and bind Carey'sankles together. Next he rooted through a bin of waste paper and foundsome stout cord with which he bound Carey at the knees. Then, leavinghis victim helpless on the floor, he picked up the little bag, turnedoff the light, stepped softly out, closed and locked the door behindhim, slipped the bunch of keys into his pocket, and returned to the landoffice. He knocked, and presently the door of the private office furtherdown the hall opened gently and the deputy glanced warily out. SeeingBob at the main entrance he went around and let him in.
"I took a chance" Bob explained, "and went out after the balance of thedope. Any sign of the other gang around?"
"Not a soul."
"Good news. I had an idea Carey put those abandonment papers in thislittle bag" and he held up the bag in such a manner that the deputycould not fail to see the initials T. M. C. on one end. This had theeffect of allaying any lingering suspicion which the deputy may havebeen entertaining, and without waiting to see the contents of the baghe hurried back to his desk to complete the work of filing Bob's fiftyapplications.
In the meantime Bob had opened the bag. It contained applications forseventy-odd sections of land in Owens River Valley, together with anequal number of instruments of abandonment of filings on land throughoutthe state.
It was as Bob had suspected. The corrupt deputy had informed Carey wherethe loss of school land would occur. Carey's dummy entrymen had tied upfor him these bases of exchange for lieu lands by instantly applying for_worthless_ lieu lands, and these applications had been held up in theland office unacted upon, in order that the bases might show of recordas used; then, at the word from Carey, these filings on worthless landhad been abandoned, in order that Carey might use the bases for theacquisition of the lands he really desired.
"I'm a fool for luck" murmured Bob McGraw, as he counted off fiftyof these instruments of abandonment, closed the bag and set it in thecorner with his suit-case. He approached the counter and tossed the lotover to the deputy.
"Here are the instruments of abandonment, old-timer," he said casually."I had a notion Carey put them in that grip. Better get 'em on recordright away and let those receipts for the filings slide until the officeopens for business. I'll go outside and lean up against the door. Don'tworry. I'll be first in line, and if the other gang should be at myheels I'll slip you over a bunch of dummies, to throw 'em off the scent,and you can hand me back the receipts for the real thing." He winkedcomically and went out into the corridor again.
Slowly the minutes dragged by. Bob looked at his watch. It was a quarterof nine. Five minutes passed and still the corridor was deserted. Twominutes more flitted by and then the janitor came around the cornerfrom the next corridor, a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other. Bobgrinned as he saw the man try the door of the room where T. Morgan Careylay trussed up. He rattled the knob several times, then searched hispockets for his keys. Not finding them, he went away grumbling.
It was just nine o'clock when the janitor returned. Bob McGraw was closeenough, to him now to see that he carried a key, which he slipped intothe lock, opened the door and passed into the gloom of the room beyond.Bob trembled lest he step on T. Morgan Carey's face. While the janitorwas fumbling for the electric switch, Bob stepped softly in after him,and as softly closed the door behind him, just as the janitor switchedon the light. He turned at the slight sound of the closing door andfound himself gazing down the long blue barrel of an automatic gun.
"No unnecessary noise, if you please" said Bob McGraw gently. "This isone of those rare occasions where silence is golden. Observe that manon the floor, my friend? He tried to make a noise and just see whathappened to him."
The janitor's mouth had opened to emit a yell. He closed it now, slowly,and licked his lips.
"What do you want?" he demanded, and Bob McGraw realized instantly thatin the janitor he had not met a poltroon.
"The pleasure of your society for half an hour" murmured Bob, andsmiled. "I'm not going to hurt you if I can avoid it, but if you makea row I'll tap you back of the ear with the butt of this gun. Theindividual on the floor has been poking his nose into my business and Ihad to put him in storage for a while. Unfortunately you discovered him,so, much to our mutual displeasure, I must ask you to bear him companyuntil nine-thirty, after which you may return to your janitorial labors.Don't worry. I'm not a hold-up man. Have a cigar. Also a five-spot topay you in advance for the inconvenience I am subjecting you to."
The janitor's face became normal at once. He accepted the cigar and thefive-dollar piece, seated himself on an upturned bucket and set himselfpatiently to await the moment of his liberation. He sat there grinningand blowing smoke at Bob McGraw.
At nine-thirty, Bob, judging that the deputy had had ample time in whichto place his affairs in shape, decided to raise the siege. He put uphis gun, unlatched the door and backed out, motioning to the janitor toaccompany him. The latter obeyed with alacrity.
"Come on into the land office with me, old man" Bob invited him. "Whenmy business is finished there I'll give you back your keys and ask youto unwrap the gentleman we just left."
They entered the land office together.
"Did that friend o' mine leave something with you for me?" Bob queriedof the deputy, and flashed him a lightning wink.
"Waiting for you" responded the deputy, and handed Bob McGraw a largemanila envelope. "All O. K." he added, and returned the wink.
"Sure you recorded those abandonments?" he queried. The deputy nodded.
"Then we're all O. K. on the matter of designating the basis, are we?"
Again the deputy nodded. Bob turned and handed the keys to the janitor.
"That being the case" he announced cheerfully but in a low tone ofvoice, "our friend, the janitor, will immediately proceed to release Mr.T. Morgan Carey and bring him into court. Permit me to introduce myself.I am Mr. Robert McGraw, and I have you by the short hair, you crookedlittle sneak. You should have looked up and down the corridor andnoticed all the witnesses I had posted to observe you letting me intoyour office before it was officially opened. Oh, I'm not worried aboutwhat you can do now. It's only nine-thirty and I can easily prove thatit is a physical impossibility for one man to do the work you've donethis morning, and do it in one short half hour. You have entered fiftyinstruments of abandonment, so there are that number of bases opento permit of the exchange of fifty sections of lieu land, the filingreceipts for which I hold in my hand. Old-timer, I dare you to attemptthe job of falsifying a public record, even at the command of ouresteemed old friend, T. Morgan Carey. By the way, here he is. Gracious,what a hurry we're in! Howdy, T. Morgan?"
T. Morgan Carey had fairly leaped into the room.
"You--you scoundrel!" he cried, and shook his fist at Bob McGraw. "I'llget you for this" he said in low tr
embling tones, "if it takes my lastdollar."
"No, you won't" retorted the smiling Bob, "at least, not after you'vehad a heart-to-heart talk with your obliging friend here. I've waitedhere to square him with you, Carey. He isn't to blame. I just bluffedhim out of his boots. You mustn't be hard on him, T. Morgan. You knowhow easily I bluffed you. Be reasonable. Charity covers a multitude ofsins, and there's a lot of land still left in the lower part of OwensValley, although my friends have had their pick of it. There's yourlittle old bag with your applications still untouched, although I willadmit that I was mean enough to help you file some of those instrumentsof abandonment from your dummy entrymen. I must hurry along now. Thankyou so much--"
The janitor entered. In his hand he held Mr. McGraw's suspenders.
"You might need these" he interrupted, "more particular if you're goin'to do any runnin', an' I'll bet you are."
"Thank you" murmured Mr. McGraw. "You're very thoughtful," and quitecalmly he proceeded to remove his coat and vest and replace thesuspenders. When he was once more arrayed for the street he thrust hissun-tanned hand through the grilled window to the trembling deputy; hesmiled his gay lazy whimsical inscrutable smile.
"_Buenos dias,_ amigo" he said; and so astounded was the unhappy deputythat he actually accepted the proffered hand and shook it limply.
"You scoundrel!" hissed T. Morgan Carey, "you--" and then he applied toBob the unpardonable epithet.
The devil leaped to life in Bob McGraw. His right arm shot out, his openpalm landed with a resounding thwack on the side of Carey's head. Asthe land-grabber lurched from the impact of that terrific slap,McGraw's left palm straightened him up on the other ear, and he subsidedincontinently into a corner.
But his natural lust for a fight had now reached high-water mark in BobMcGraw's soul. He whirled, reached that terrible right arm through thewindow and grasped the deputy by the collar. Right over the counter,through the window, he snaked him, landing him in a heap on the flooroutside. He jerked the frightened official to his feet, cuffed himacross the room and back again to the window.
"That," he said, "for your broken oath of office, and that! for yourcheap office rule that has no foundation in law but serves to frightenaway the weaklings that want to file on lieu land. I must designate thebasis, must I? All right, you little crook. Watch me designate it."
He landed a remarkably accurate kick under the official coat-tails,picked the deputy up bodily and hurled him in a heap in the same cornerwhere T. Morgan Carey sprawled, blinking (for his glasses had beenshaken off in the melee) and weeping with fear and impotent rage.
For a moment Bob towered above them like a great avenging red angel.Then his anger left him as suddenly as it had come. Carey and the deputypresented such a pitiable sight, although ludicrous withal, that he wasmoved to shame to think that he had pitted his strength against suchpuny adversaries. He picked T. Morgan Carey out of the corner, set himon his feet, dusted him off, gave him his hat and restored to him hisgold pince-nez. The deputy needed no aid from Bob McGraw, but hastenedto the protection of his sanctuary back of the counter. Bob stoodlooking at Carey, smiling his old bantering debonair smile. He waiteduntil Carey had recovered his composure.
"Carey," he said, "you will remember hereafter, I trust, that it is theearly bird that gets the worm, that promptness is a virtue and lying inbed mornings a heinous crime. Now, the next time you run up against aReuben like me you want to remember the old saying that a stump-tailedyellow dog is always the best for coons. An easy conscience is to bepreferred to great riches, Carey. Be honest and you will stay out ofjail. Before I go, permit me to introduce myself. I'm Bob McGraw, of NoPlace In Particular, and a lunatic by nature, breed and inclination. Mr.Man-who-flies-through-the-window, here are duplicate copies of my powerof attorney from my fifty clients, authorizing and instructing thesurveyor-general to transact all of his official business with themthrough me. Before I go I want to say that as a usual thing I try to bea gentleman; which, fact induces the utmost regret that I was forcedto gag you and truss you up in that filthy little room. If I hurt youphysically then I am sorry. I tried to do the unpleasant job gently.However, this is no parlor game that you and I are playing, anddesperate circumstances sometimes necessitate desperate measures. As forthe blows I struck you--that is too bad, because you're old enough tobe my father, but you displayed excessively bad taste in your choice ofexpletive. Even then I merely slapped you. But I'm sorry it had to cometo that."
He paused and gazed calmly about him for a moment.
"I guess that's all" he added innocently. "Good morning."
With a chuckle that mingled triumph, deviltry and the sheer joy ofliving, Mr. McGraw picked up his suit-case, backed to the door, openedit and fled along the corridor. On the driveway in front of the capitolhe saw an automobile standing, throbbing. He ran to it and leaped intothe tonneau.
"This is Carey's car, isn't it?" he demanded.
The chauffeur nodded. He would have saluted any one not so distinctlyrural as Bob McGraw.
"You're to take me over to Stockton right away. Turn her wide open andfly. Great Scott, we're all in a hurry this morning. Git! _Vamoose,_ andscorch the gravel."
Now, it is a curious psychological fact that when a robustauthoritative-looking man gives an order with the air of one used tocommanding, ninety-nine per cent of the people to whom he gives hisorders will hasten to obey without pausing to question his authority.The chauffeur threw in his clutch and the car glided away, while BobMcGraw, glancing back, saw T. Morgan Carey and a uniformed, watchmandashing down the capitol steps.
They were too late. T. Morgan Carey shouted to his chauffeur, but it wasnot a day of silent motors, and legislation affecting muffler cut-outswas still in the dim and distant Not-Yet.
The car sped out of the capitol grounds and away into the heart of thecity. Presently the houses grew more scattered, the traffic dwindled andthe car leaped forward at a forty-mile-an-hour clip. They swung downa wide road that stretched south into the sunny San Joaquin, andthe mellow piping of meadow larks and linnets came pleasantly in Mr.McGraw's ears; the pungent aroma of tar-weed, the thousand and onelittle smells of the wide free spaces that he loved floated across tohim from the fields on each side of the road, as he sat erect in thetonneau and sniffed the air of freedom.
He had had his fill of cities and he was glad to leave them behind.
The Long Chance Page 12