Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch

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Bunch Grass: A Chronicle of Life on a Cattle Ranch Page 11

by Horace Annesley Vachell


  IX

  UNCLE JAP'S LILY

  Jaspar Panel owned a section of rough, hilly land to the north-east ofParadise. Everybody called him Uncle Jap. He was very tall, very thin,with a face burnt a brick red by exposure to sun and wind, and, bornin Massachusetts, he had marched as a youth with Sherman to the sea.After the war he married, crossed the plains in a "prairie schooner,"and, eventually, took up six hundred and forty acres of Governmentland in San Lorenzo County. With incredible labour, inspired andsustained by his natural acuteness, he wrought a miracle upon asingularly arid and sterile soil. I have been told that he was thefirst of the foothill settlers to irrigate abundantly, the first toplant out an orchard and vineyard, the first, certainly, to create agarden out of a sage-brush desert. Teamsters hauling wheat from theCarisa plains used to stop to shake the white alkaline dust from theiroveralls under Uncle Jap's fig trees. They and the cowboys were alwaysmade welcome. To such guests Uncle Jap would offer figs, water-melons,peaches, a square meal at noon, and exact nothing in return exceptappreciation. If a man failed to praise Uncle Jap's fruit or hiswife's sweet pickles, he was not pressed to "call again." The oldfellow was inordinately proud of his colts, his Poland-China pigs, his"graded" bull, his fountain in the garden.

  "Nice place you have, Mr. Panel," a stranger might say.

  "Yas; we call it Sunny Bushes. Uster be nothin' but sun an' bushesonst. It's nice, yas, and it's paid for."

  "What a good-looking mare!"

  "Yas; she's paid for, too."

  Everything on the ranch, animal, vegetable, and mineral, was "paidfor." Uncle Jap was the last man to hurt anybody's feelings, but the"paid for" rankled on occasion, for some of his visitors stoodperilously near the edge of bankruptcy, and, as a rule, had not paidfor either the land they occupied, or the cattle they branded, or theclothes they wore. To understand this story you must grasp the factthat Uncle Jap lived with credit and not on it.

  His wife, also of New England parentage, had a righteous horror ofdebt bred in her bone. Uncle Jap adored her. If he set an extravagantvalue upon his other possessions, what price above rubies did he placeupon the meek, silent, angular woman, who had been his partner,companion, and friend for more than a quarter of a century. Sun andwind had burnt her face, also, to the exact tint of her husband's. Hername was Lily.

  "And, doggone it, she looks like a lily," Uncle Jap would say, inmoments of expansion. "Tall an' slim, yas, an' with a little droop ofher head. I'd ought ter be grateful to God fer givin' me sech a flowerouter heaven--an' I am, I am. Look at her now! What a mover!"

  Uncle Jap's Lily chasing a hen certainly exhibited an activitysurprising in one of her years. By a hairbreadth she missedperfection. Uncle Jap had been known to hint, nothing more, that hewould have liked a dozen or so of babies. The hint took concrete formin: "I think a heap o' young things, colts, kittens, puppies--an' thelike." Then he would sigh.

  We came to California in the eighties, and in '93, if my memory servesme, Uncle Jap discovered bituminous rock in a corner of his ranch. Hebecame very excited over this find, and used to carry samples of orein his pocket which he showed to the neighbours.

  "There's petroleum whar that ore is--_sure_. An' ef I couldstrike it, boys, why, why I'd jest hang my Lily with di'monds from herhead to her feet, I would."

  This, mind you, was before the discovery of the now famous oil fields.Even in those early days experts were of opinion that oil might befound below the croppings of bituminous rock by any pioneerenterprising enough to bore for it.

  About this time we began to notice that Uncle Jap was losing interestin his ranch. Cattle strayed through the fence because he neglected tomend it, calves escaping were caught and branded by unscrupulousneighbours, a colt was found dead, cast in a deep gulch.

  "What's the matter with Uncle Jap?" we asked, at the May-Day picnic.

  Mrs. Fullalove, a friend of Mrs. Panel, answered the question.

  "I'll tell ye," she said sharply. "Jaspar Panel has gotten a diseasecommon enough in Californy. He's sufferin' from a dose o' swelledhead."

  Mrs. Panel sprang to her feet. Her face was scarlet; her pale eyessnapped; the nostrils of her thin nose were dilated.

  "Susan Jane Fullalove," she cried shrilly, "how dare you?"

  Mrs. Fullalove remained calm.

  "It's so, Lily. Yer so thin, I didn't see ye sittin' edgeways, but yeneedn't to ramp an' roar. Yer ranch _is_ flyin' to flindersbecause Mr. Panel's tuk a notion that it's a-floatin' on a lake ofile."

  "An' mebbe it is," replied Mrs. Panel, subsiding.

  Shortly afterwards we heard that Uncle Jap was frequenting saloons,hanging about the hotels in the county town, hunting, of course, for acapitalist who would bore for oil on shares, seeking the "angel" withthe dollars who would transport him and his Lily into the empyrean ofmillionaires. When he confided as much to us, my brother Ajaxremarked--

  "Hang it all, Uncle Jap, you've got all you want."

  "That's so. I hev. But Lily----Boys, I don't like ter give her away--this is between me an' you--she's the finest in the land, ain't she?Yas. An' work? Great Minneapolis! Why, work come mighty near robbin'her of her looks. It did, fer a fact. An' now, she'd ought ter takethings easy, an' hev a good time."

  "She does have a good time."

  "Ajax, yer talkin' through yer hat. What do you know of wimmenfolk?Not a derned thing. They're great at pretendin'. I dessay you, bein' abachelor, think that my Lily kind o' wallers in washin' my ole duds,an' cookin' the beans and bacon when the thermometer's up to a hundredin the shade, and doin' chores around the hog pens an' chicken yards?Wal--she don't. She pretends, fer my sake, but bein' a lady born an'bred, her mind's naterally set on--silks an' satins, gems, a pianner--an' statooary."

  "I can't believe it," said my brother. "Mrs. Panel has always seemedto me the most sensible woman----"

  "Lady, _if_ you please."

  "I beg pardon--the most sensible lady of my acquaintance, and the mostcontented with the little home you've made for her."

  "She helped make it. O' course, it's nateral, you bein' so young an'innercent, that you should think you know more about Mis' Panel'sinside than I do, but take it from me that she's pined in secret forwhat I'm a-goin' ter give her before I turn up my toes."

  With that he rode away on his old pinto horse, smiling softly andnodding his grizzled head.

  Later, he travelled to San Francisco, where he interviewed presidentsof banks and other magnates. All and sundry were civil to Uncle Jap,but they refused to look for a needle in a haystack. Uncle Japconfessed, later, that he was beginning to get "cold feet," as heexpressed it, when he happened to meet an out-of-elbows individual whoclaimed positively that he could discover water, gold, or oil, with notools or instruments other than a hazel twig. Uncle Jap, who forgot toask why this silver-tongued vagabond had failed to discover gold forhimself, returned in triumph to his ranch, bringing with him thewizard, pledged to consecrate his gifts to the "locating" of the lakeof oil. In return for his services Uncle Jap agreed to pay him fiftydollars a week, board and lodging included. When he told us of thebargain he had made, his face shone with satisfaction and confidence.He chuckled, as he added slyly--

  "I peeked in to some o' them high-toned joolery stores on Montgomeryand Kearney Streets. Yas, I did. An' I priced what they call a ti-airy, sort o' di'mond crown. They run up into the thousands o'dollars. Think o' Mis' Panel in a _ti_-airy, boys; but shush-h-h-h! Not a word to her--eh?"

  We pledged ourselves to secrecy, but when Uncle Jap's back was turned,Ajax cursed the wizard as the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheimscursed the jackdaw. When we saw Mrs. Panel, she seemed to be thinnerand more angular, but her lips were firmly compressed, as if shefeared that something better left unsaid might leak from them. An oldsunbonnet flapped about her red, wrinkled face, her hands, red andwrinkled also, trembled when we inquired after the wizard and hisworks.

  "He's located the lake," she replied. Suppressed wrath boiled over, asshe added fiercely: "I wish 'twas a
lake o' fire an' brimstone, an' hima-bilin' in the middle of it." Then, reading the sympathy in our eyes,she continued quickly: "I ain't denyin' that Jaspar has a right to dowhat he pleases with what lies out o' doors. He never interfered withme in my kitchen, never! Would you gen'lemen fancy a glass o'lemonade? No? Wal--I'm glad you called in, fer I hev been feelin' kindo' lonesome lately."

  What Uncle Jap's Lily suffered when he mortgaged all his cattle tosink a well nobody knows but herself, and she never told. The wizardindicated a certain spot below the croppings of bituminous rock; a bigderrick was built; iron casing was hauled over the Coast Range; thewell was bored.

  Then, after boring some two thousand feet, operations had to besuspended, because Uncle Jap's dollars were exhausted, and hispatience. The wizard swore stoutly that the lake was there, millionsand millions of barrels of oil, but he deemed it expedient to leavethe country in a hurry, because Uncle Jap intimated to him in the mostconvincing manner that there was not room in it for so colossal afraud. The wizard might have argued the question, but the sight ofUncle Jap's old Navy six-shooter seemed to paralyse his tongue.

  After this incident Uncle Jap ranched with feverish energy, and Mrs.Fullalove said that the old man had gotten over a real bad dose ofswelled head.

  * * * * *

  Five years later came the oil boom!

  Everybody knows now that it flowed in prodigious quantities into thevats of one man, whom we shall speak of with the respect which thebillionaire inspires, as the Autocrat of Petroleum. Let us hasten toadd that we shall approach him in the person of his agent, who, so faras Uncle Jap was concerned, doubtless acted in defiance of the will ofthe greatest church builder and philanthropist in the world.

  Oil was struck in pints, quarts, gallons, buckets, and finally inthousands and tens of thousands of barrels! It flowed copiously in ourcow-county; it greased, so to speak, the wheels--and how ramshacklesome of them were!--of a score of enterprises, it saturated all thingsand persons.

  Now, conceive, if you can, the triumphant I-told-you-so-boysexpression of Uncle Jap. He swelled again visibly: head first, thenbody and soul. The county kowtowed to him. Speculators tried to buyhis ranch, entreated him to name a price.

  "I'll take half a million dollars, in cold cash," said Uncle Jap.

  The speculators offered him instead champagne and fat cigars. UncleJap refused both. He was not going to be "flimflammed," no, sir! Nottwice in his life, _no, Siree Bob_! He, by the Jumping Frog ofCalaveras, proposed to paddle his own canoe into and over the lake ofoil. If the boys wished him to forgo the delights of that voyage, let'em pungle up half a million--or get.

  They got.

  Presently, after due consultation with a famous mining engineer, UncleJap mortgaged his cattle for the second time, and sank another well.He discovered oil sand, not a lake. Then he mortgaged his land, everystick and stone on it, and sunk three more wells. It was a case ofBernard Palissy. Was Bernard a married man? I forget. If so, did heconsult his wife before he burnt the one and only bed? Did sheprotest? It is a fact that Uncle Jap's Lily did not protest. Shelooked on, the picture of misery, and her mouth was a thin line ofsilence across her wrinkled impassive countenance.

  When every available cent had been raised and sunk, the oil spoutedout. Who looked at the fountain in the patch of lawn by the old figtrees? Possibly Mrs. Panel. Not Uncle Jap. He, the most temperate ofmen, became furiously drunk on petroleum. He exuded it from everypore. Of course he was acclaimed by the county and the State (theSunday editions published his portrait) as the star-spangled epitomeof Yankee grit and get-there.

  At this point we must present, with apologies, the agent of theAutocrat, _the_ agent, the High-muck-a-muck of the Pacific Slope,with a salary of a hundred thousand a year and _perks_! In hisyouth Nat Levi smelt of fried fish, unless the smell was overpoweredby onions, and he changed his lodgings more often than he changed hislinen. Now you meet him as Nathaniel Leveson, Esquire, who travelledin his private car, who assumed the God, when the God was elsewhere,who owned a palace on Nob Hill, and some of the worst, and thereforethe most paying, rookeries in Chinatown, who never refused to give acheque for charitable purposes when it was demanded in a becominglypublic manner, who, like the Autocrat, had endowed Christian Churches,and had successfully eliminated out of his life everything whichsmacked of the Ghetto, except his nose.

  Nathaniel Leveson visited our county, opened an office, and began tolay his pulpy white hands upon everything which directly or indirectlymight produce petroleum. In due season he invited Uncle Jap to dinewith him at the Paloma Hotel, in San Lorenzo. The old man, with thehayseed in his hair, and the stains of bitumen upon his gnarled hands,ate and drank of the best, seeing a glorified vision of his Lilycrowned with diamonds at last. The vision faded somewhat whenNathaniel began to talk dollars and cents. Even to Uncle Jap, unversedin such high matters as finance, it seemed plain that Leveson &Company were to have the dollars, and that to him, the star-spangledepitome of Yankee grit and get-there were to be apportioned the cents.

  "Lemme see," he said, with the slow, puzzled intonation of the man whodoes not understand; "I own this yere oil----"

  "Subject to the mortgage, Mr. Panel, I believe?"

  "That don't amount to shucks," said Uncle Jap.

  "Quite so. Forgive me for interrupting you."

  "I own this yere oil-field, lake I call it, and, bar the mortgage,it's bin paid for with the sweat of my--soul."

  He brought out the word with such startling emphasis, that Nathanielnearly upset the glass of fine old cognac which he was raising to hislips.

  "Yas, my soul," continued Uncle Jap, meditatively. "I riskedeverything I'd got. Man," he leant across the gaily decorated table,with its crystal, its pink shades, its pretty flowers, and compelledhis host to meet his flaming eyes,--"man, I risked my wife's love andrespect. And," he drew a deep breath, "by God, I was justified. I gotthere. If I hadn't," the fire died down in his mild blue eyes, and thethin body seemed to wither and shrink,--"if I hadn't struck it, itwould hev killed her, the finest lady in the land, an' me too. It wasnip an' tuck with both of us. And now," his voice warmed into lifeagain,--"and now you offer me fifty thousand dollars."

  "I am anxious to treat you right, Mr. Panel. Another glass of brandy?No. Between ourselves the market is getting weaker every day. Fiftythousand profit, perhaps, may seem a small sum to you, but I cannotoffer more. You are at perfect liberty to refuse my cheque; others,perhaps----"

  Uncle Jap rose up grim and gaunt.

  "I've ate dinner with you," he murmured, "so I'll say nothing morethan 'thank you' and 'good-bye.'"

  "Good-bye, Mr. Panel. At any time, if you have reason to change yourmind, I shall be glad to talk business with you."

  Uncle Jap returned to his own hotel to pass a restless night. Next dayhe sought a certain rich man who had a huge ranch in our county. Therich man, let us call him Dives, had eaten Uncle Jap's figs, and takenhis advice, more than once, about cattle.

  "Who's a-buyin' oil lakes?" demanded Uncle Jap.

  "Nathaniel Leveson."

  "Who else?"

  Dives eyed Uncle Jap keenly. Rich men don't tell all they know,otherwise they would not be rich. Still, those figs and that water-melon on a broiling July afternoon had tasted uncommonly good!

  "Look here, Mr. Panel, I think I can guess what has happened. Somebodyhas tried to squeeze you--eh?"

  "That's so."

  "Um! You're not the first."

  "I wan't squeezed."

  "Not yet, but----Mr. Panel, I should like to do you a service, and Iknow you to be an intelligent man. Do you see this sheet of blotting-paper?"

  The blotting-paper lay immaculate upon the desk. Dives took a cleanquill, dipped it into ink, and held it poised over the white pad.Uncle Jap watched him with interest.

  "This," continued Dives, thoughtfully, "represents you and your ranch,Mr. Panel," he made a small dot upon the blotting-paper. "This," hemade a much larger dot, "represents me and
all I have. Now Levesonrepresents--_this_."

  With a violent motion, quite contrary to his usual gentle, courteousmanner, Dives plunged the quill to the bottom of the ink pot, withdrewit quickly, and jerked its contents upon the blotting-paper. A hugepurple blot spread and spread till the other small blots wereincorporated.

  "D--n him!" spluttered Uncle Jap.

  Dives shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.

  "My advice is: take what Leveson offers."

  "Fifty thousand for millions?"

  "Possibly. Can you touch them, if Omnipotence forbids?"

  Dives stared moodily at the big purple blot; then picking up the sheetof blotting-paper he tore it to pieces with his nervous, finely-formedfingers, and dropped it into the waste-paper basket. When he lookedup, he saw that Uncle Jap's mild blue eyes were curiously congested.

  "You might see So-and-so," Dives named a banker. "I'll write a note ofintroduction." Then he added with a faint inflection of derision: "Ifear it will be of no service to you, because few business men care tobuy trouble even at a bargain."

  All this Ajax and I heard from Uncle Jap, after he returned from SanLorenzo without selling Sunny Bushes to So-and-so. None the less, hebrought back a pair of small diamond ear-rings.

  "Lily's ears ain't pierced," he explained; "but she'll hev a reelsplendid time lookin' at 'em, jest as I uster hev with my nightie."

  "Your--_nightie_?"

  Uncle Jap chuckled and rubbed together his bony hands, cracking thejoints.

  "Yas, my nightie. Never tole you boys about that, did I? Wal, about amonth before Lily an' me was fixin' up to get merried, she made me anightie. It was mos' too dressy fer a lady to wear, let alone acritter like me who'd allus slep' in his pants an' day shirt. 'Twas offine linen, pleated, and fixed with ribands, yaller riband, I chosethe colour. Lily was kinder stuck on pale blue, but I liked yallerbest. Lily knew what I' do with that nightie, an' I done it. I put itaway in the tissoo paper 'twas wrapped in, an' I hev it still. I've gotmore solid satisfaction out of lookin' at it than I ever hev out o' mybank book. An," he concluded warmly, "Lily's goin' ter feel jest thatway about these yere sollytaires."

  What followed immediately afterwards is county history. Uncle Japdecided to borrow money to develop his bonanza. The Autocrat, withtentacles stretching to the uttermost ends of the earth, may--I darenot affirm that he did--have issued instructions that such money asJaspar Panel asked for was to be paid. Jaspar Panel asked for a gooddeal, and got it. He sunk more wells and capped them; he builtreservoirs, he laid down pipe line. The day of triumph dawned when anEnglish company offered to take all the oil Uncle Jap could supply,provided it were delivered free on board their vessels. Then came thecrushing blow that the railroad would not transport Mr. Panel'spetroleum. If they did--this was not the reason given by the shippingagents--the Autocrat might be _displeased_.

  Meantime the banks politely requested Jaspar Panel to meet hisobligations.

  Hitherto, Uncle Jap had been a man of simple and primitive beliefs. Hehad held, for instance, that a beneficent Providence will uphold Rightagainst Might; he had pinned his faith to the flag under which hefought and bled when a boy; he had told his Lily (who believed him)that American citizenship is a greater thing than a Roman's in Rome'spalmiest day: a phrase taken whole from the mouth of a Fourth of Julyorator. Last of all, he had believed devoutly in his own strong handsand will, the partnership of mind and muscle which confronts seeminglyinsuperable obstacles confident that it can destroy them.

  And now, hour by hour, day by day, conviction settled upon his soulthat in this world one only reigned supreme: the Autocrat of Oil,whose High Priest was Nathaniel Leveson. After heart-rending months ofhumiliation, upon the eve of foreclosure by the banks, Uncle Jap wrotea forlorn letter to Nathaniel, accepting his offer of fifty thousanddollars for the lake of oil. Mr. Leveson, so a subordinate replied,_was not buying oil properties_! For the moment he was interestedin other matters ... Uncle Jap happened to read next day that Leveson,treading in the footsteps of his Master, was about to present asplendid church to the people of San Lorenzo. Uncle Jap stared at thepaper till it turned white, till he saw in the middle of it a hugepurple blot ever-increasing in size.

  That evening he cleaned his old six-shooter, which had made theclimate of the county so particularly pestilential for the wizard withthe hazel twig.

  "Pore critter," he muttered as he wiped the barrel, "he was down tohis uppers, but this feller------" Mrs. Panel, putting away the supperthings, heard her husband swearing softly to himself. She hesitated amoment; then she came in, and seeing the pistol, a gasp escaped her.

  "What air you doin' with that, Jaspar Panel?"

  Uncle Jap coughed.

  "There's bin a skunk around," he said. "I've kind o' smelled him forweeks past, hain't you?"

  "I never knowed you to shoot a skunk with anything but a shot-gun."

  "That's so. I'd disremembered. Wonder if I kin shoot as straight as Iused ter?"

  For answer his wife, usually so undemonstrative, bent down, took thepistol from his hand, put it back into the drawer, and, slightlyblushing, kissed the old man's cheek.

  "Why, Lily, what ails ye?"

  His surprise at this unwonted caress brought a faint smile to her thinlips.

  "Nothing."

  "Ye ain't tuk a notion that yer goin' to die?"

  "Nothing ails me, Jaspar," her voice was strong and steady. "I'mstrong as I was twenty year ago, or nearly so. I kin begin life overagen, ef I hev to."

  "Who said you hed to?" enquired her husband fiercely. "Who said youhed to?" he repeated. "Susan Jane Fullalove? I'd like ter wring herdam neck. Oh, it wan't her, eh? Wal, you take if from me that youain't agoin' to begin life agen onless it's in a marble hall sech asyou've dreamed about ever since you was shortcoated. Let me hear nomore sech talk. D'ye hear?"

  "I hear," she answered meekly, and went back to her kitchen.

  * * * * *

  Next day she came to us across the cow-pasture as we were smoking ourpipes after the mid-day meal. We guessed that no light matter hadbrought her afoot, with such distress upon her face.

  "I'm in trouble," she said nervously.

  "We are your friends," said Ajax gravely.

  "Jaspar's gone to town," she gasped.

  Uncle Jap, since the striking of the oil, had been in the habit ofgoing to town so often that this statement aroused no surprise. Wewaited for more information.

  "I'm scared plum ter death," Mrs. Panel continued. "I want ter follerhim at onst. Jaspar's taken the team. I thought maybe you'd hitch upand drive me in this afternoon--_now_."

  The last word left her lips with a violence that was positivelyimperative.

  "Certainly," said Ajax. He turned to leave the room. We neither of usasked a question. Upon the threshold he addressed me:

  "I'll bring the buggy round while you change."

  I reflected that it was considerate of Ajax to allow me to drive Mrs.Panel the twenty-six miles between our ranch and San Lorenzo. I noddedand went into my bedroom.

  * * * * *

  For the first ten miles, Mrs. Panel never opened her lips. I glancedoccasionally at her impassive face, wondering when she would speak.Somehow I knew that she would speak, and she did. It was like her tocompress all she had left unsaid into the first sentence.

  "Jaspar's gone plum crazy with trouble! he took his six-shooter withhim."

  After that, details given with a descriptive realism impossible toreproduce. The poor creature revealed herself to me during the nextfew minutes as I feel sure she had never revealed herself to herhusband.

  "He's mad, plum crazy," she pleaded. "Nobody knows what he's sufferedbut me. I don't say it ain't a jedgment, mebbe it is. We thought wewas jest about right. The pride we took in Sunny Bushes was sinful;yas, it was. The Lord has seen fit to chastise us, an' I'm willin', Itole Jaspar so, ter begin agen. We're healthy, an strong, though wedon't look it, I'll allow. Jaspar is plum
crazy. His words las' nightproved it. He said we might begin life agen in a marble hall sech as Ihed dreamed about. Good land o' Peter! I never dreamed of marble hallsin all my life, but I dassn't contradict him."

  "He believes you dreamed of them," I said, "and he is quite sure youought to live in them."

  "He thinks the world o' me," said Mrs. Panel, in a softer tone, "butthis world an' the next won't turn him from what he's set his mind todo. I'd oughter be ashamed o' speakin' so of him, but it's so. Mercy!I hev been talkin'."

  She said no more till we descended from the buggy in the livery stablewhere Jaspar was in the habit of putting up his horses.

  "You ain't seen Mr. Panel, hev you?" she asked the ostler.

  "He's around somewheres," the man replied. With this information westarted out to look for him. Away from the familiar brush hills,confronted by strange faces, confused, possibly, by the traffic, mycompanion seemed so nervous and helpless that I dared not leave her.Almost unconsciously, we directed our steps towards the AmalgamatedOil Company's office. Here we learned that Leveson was in town, andthat Uncle Jap had called to see him.

  "Did he see him?" Mrs. Panel's voice quavered.

  "No," the clerk answered curtly; then he added: "Nobody sees the bosswithout an appointment. We told Mr. Panel to call to-morrow."

  If the clerk had spoken with tongues of angels Lily could not haveassumed a more seraphic expression.

  "An' where is he now?" she asked.

  "Your husband, ma'am? I can't tell you."

  "I mean Mr. Leveson."

  "He's in there," the private room was indicated, "and up to his eyesin work. He won't quit till he goes to dinner at the Paloma. D'ye hearthe typewriters clicking? He makes things hum when he's here, anddon't you forget it."

  "I shall never forget that," said Mrs. Panel, in an accent which mademe remember that her grandfather had been a graduate of HarvardUniversity. "Good-afternoon."

  We walked on down the street. Suddenly, Mrs. Panel staggered, andmight have fallen had I not firmly grasped her arm.

  "I dunno' what ails me," she muttered.

  "Did you eat any breakfast this morning?"

  "I dunno' as I did," she admitted with reluctance.

  "Did you eat any dinner?"

  "Mebbee I didn't." Her innate truthfulness compelled her to add with apathetic defiance: "I couldn't hev swallered a mossel to save mylife."

  I took her to a restaurant, and prescribed a plate of soup and a glassof wine. Then I said with emphasis:

  "Now, look here, Mrs. Panel! I want you to rest, while I hunt up Mr.Panel. When I find him I'll bring him to you."

  "An' s'pose he won't come?"

  "He will come."

  "No, he won't; not till he's done what he's set his mind to do. Wasyou aimin' to hunt fer Jaspar up an' down this town?"

  "Certainly. It's not as big as you think."

  "'Pears to me it'd be a better plan to keep an eye on the otherfeller."

  With a woman's instinct she had hit the mark.

  "Perhaps it would," I admitted.

  "I noticed one or two things," she continued earnestly. "Near theoffice is an empty lot with trees and bushes. I'd as lief rest thereas here ef it's the same to you. Then you kin look around for Jaspar,if ye've a mind to."

  "And if I find him?"

  "Watch him, as I shall watch the other feller."

  "And then----"

  "The rest is in the dear Lord's hands."

  She adjusted the thick veil which Southern Californian women wear tokeep the thick dust from their faces, and together we returned toLeveson's office. Passing the door, I could hear the typewriters stillclicking. Mrs. Panel sat down under a tree in the empty lot, and forthe first time since we had met that day spoke in her natural tones.

  "I come away without feeding the chickens," she said.

  I looked at my watch; it was nearly six. One hour of daylightremained. Leveson, I happened to know, was in the habit of diningabout half-past six. He often returned to the office after dinner.Between the Hotel Paloma, which lay just outside the town and theoffice ran a regular service of street cars. Leveson was the last manin the world to walk when he could drive. It seemed reasonably certainthat Jaspar, failing to see Leveson at the office, would try to speakto him at the hotel. From my knowledge of the man's temperament andcharacter, I was certain that he would not shoot down his enemywithout warning. So I walked up to the hotel feeling easier in mymind. The clerk, whom I knew well, assigned me a room. I saw severalmen in the hall, but not Uncle Jap.

  "Does Mr. Leveson dine about half-past six?" I asked.

  The clerk raised his brows.

  "That's queer," he said. "You're the second man to ask that questionwithin an hour. Old man Panel asked the same thing."

  "And what did you tell him?"

  "Mr. Leveson don't dine till seven. He goes to the church first."

  If the man had said that Leveson went to Heaven I could not have beenmore surprised. Then I remembered what I had read in the local papers.I had not seen the church yet. I had not wished to see it, knowingthat every stone in it was paid for with the sweat--as Uncle Jap hadput it--of other men's souls.

  "Where is this church?"

  "You don't know? Third turning to the left after passing the OliveBranch Saloon."

  "Leveson owns that too, doesn't he?"

  The clerk yawned. "I dare say. He owns most of the earth around here,and most of the people on it."

  I walked quickly back towards the town, wondering what took Leveson tothe church. No doubt he wanted to see if he were getting his money'sworth, to note the day's work, perhaps to give the lie to thepublished statement that he built churches and never entered them.Nearly half-an-hour had passed since I left Mrs. Panel.

  When I reached the third turning to the left I saw the church,certainly the handsomest in San Lorenzo. It stood in a large lot,littered with builders' materials. The workmen had left it at six. Thebuilding had an indescribably lifeless aspect. An hour before men hadbeen busy within and without it, now not a soul was to be seen. I hadtime to walk round it, to note that the doors were locked, to notealso, quite idly, that the window of the vestry was open. I could seeno signs of Uncle Jap.

  Coming round to the front, I saw in the distance a portly figureapproaching, followed by a thin, dust-coloured wraith of a woman. Islipped behind a tree and waited. Leveson strolled up, bland andimposing. He stood still for a moment, staring intently at the outsideof his church now completed. Then, taking a key from his pocket, heopened the vestry door and entered the building, closing the doorbehind him. I went to meet Mrs. Panel.

  "Seen Jaspar?"

  "I haven't."

  "What's that feller," she always spoke of Leveson as a 'feller,'"doin' in a church?"

  "It's his church. He built it."

  "Good Land o' Peter! What's he doin' in it anyway?"

  "Not praying, I think."

  "Shush-h-h-h."

  Mrs. Panel touched my arm, thrusting out her lean face in an attitudeof intense attention. I strained my own ears, fairly good ones, butheard nothing.

  "Jaspar's in there," said his wife. "I hear his voice."

  She trembled with excitement. Obviously, Jaspar had concealed himselfsomewhere in the vestry. No time was to be lost.

  Turning the north-east corner of the building, where the vestry issituated, I crawled under the window, followed by Mrs. Panel. The twomen were within a few feet of us. Uncle Jap's slightly high-pitchedtones fell sharply upon the silence.

  "This is a leetle surprise party, ain't it?" he was saying.

  Leveson answered thickly: "What are you doing here, sir?"

  Although I risked discovery at an inopportune moment, I could notresist the temptation to raise my eyes level with the sill of thewindow. So did Uncle Jap's Lily. We both peered in. Uncle Jap wasfacing Leveson; in his hand he held the long-barrelled six-shooter; inhis eyes were tiny pin-point flashes of light such as you see in anopal on a frosty morning. Terror had sp
read a grim mask upon theother; his complexion was the colour of oatmeal, his pendulous lipswere quivering, his huge body seemed of a sudden to be deflated. Hemight have been an empty gas bag, not a man.

  "I'm goin' to tell ye that," continued Uncle Jap mildly, "I come hereto hev a leetle talk with you. Sinse I've bin in San Lorenzy Countytwo men hev tried to ruin me: one left the county in a hurry; you'rethe other."

  "I give you my word of honour, Mr. Panel----"

  "That's about all _you_ would give, an' it ain't wuth takin'."

  "Do you mean to kill me?"

  "Ef I hev to, 't won't keep me awake nights."

  In my ear I heard his Lily's attenuated whisper: "Nor me neither, ifJaspar ain't caught."

  And I had thought that solicitude for Jaspar's soul had sent his Lily,hot-foot to prevent the crime of--murder! I learnt something aboutwomen then which I shall not forget.

  "You propose to blackmail me, I suppose?"

  "Ugly word, that, but it's yours, not mine. I prefer to put it thisway. I propose to consecrate this yere church with an act o' justice."

  "Go on!"

  "This county wan't big enough for the other feller an' me, so he hadto go; it ain't big enough to-day for you an' me, but this time, I'ma-goin', whether you stay in it or _under_ it."

  At the word "under" Uncle Jap's Lily nudged me. I looked at her. Herface was radiant. Her delight in her husband at such a moment, herconviction that he was master of the situation, that he had regainedby this audacious move all the prestige which he had in herestimation, lost--these things rejuvenated her.

  "It's a question of dollars, of course?"

  "That's it. Before you ask for credit with the angel Gabriel, you'vegot to squar' up with Jaspar Panel."

  "With the dear Lord's help, Jaspar has found a way," whispered thejoyful voice in my ear.

  "How much?" demanded Leveson. His colour was coming back.

  "We've got to figger on that. Take a pencil an' paper an' sit down."

  "This is ridiculous."

  "Sit down, you----"

  Nathaniel Leveson sat down. The vestry had been used by the contractoras an office; the plain deal table was littered with scraps of paper.Leveson took out a gold pencil-case.

  "Married man, ain't ye?" said Uncle Jap, with seeming irrelevance.

  "Yes."

  "Ever give your wife a ti-airy: diamond crown, sorter?"

  "What the----"

  "Answer--_quick!_"

  "Yes."

  "What did ye pay for it? _Quick!_"

  "Ten thousand dollars."

  "Put that down first."

  The joy and gladness had entirely melted out of Mrs. Panel's thinvoice as she whispered dole-fully to me: "Jaspar _is_ crazy,after all."

  "No, he isn't," I whispered back.

  Jaspar continued in a mild voice: "What does a way-up outfit o' lady'sclothes cost: sealskin sacques, satins, the best of everything outsideand in?"

  "I don't know."

  "You've got to figger it out--_quick!_"

  "Say ten thousand, more or less."

  "Put down fifteen; I'd jest as lief it was more 'n less. Put down ahundred dollars fer me, I mean to hev a good suit o' clothes myself.What does that come to?"

  "Twenty-five thousand, one hundred dollars. Aren't you wasting time,Mr. Panel?"

  "Nit. Of course if we happened to be interrupted it might be awkwardfer you. If somebody should call, you'll say, of course, that yer veryparticularly engaged, eh?"

  "Yes," said Nathaniel Leveson. "To oblige me, Mr. Panel, take yourfinger from that trigger."

  "Ah? I'd ought ter hev done that before. I'd disremembered 'twas ahair trigger. Now then, put down Sunny Bushes, includin' the oil lake,at yer own figger, fifty thousand. Got it? Yas. Now then, for wear an'tear of two precious souls an' bodies--that's it! Fifty thousand more.Got it? Yas. How much now?"

  "One hundred and twenty-five thousand, one hundred dollars."

  "Right! What does a marble hall cost?"

  "A marble----"

  "You heard what I said plain enough. You live in one yerself. What didthat leetle shebang on Nob Hill cost ye?"

  "Four hundred thousand dollars."

  "Jiminy Christmas! Marble halls come high, but you've a large fam'ly,more's the pity. Put down seventy-five thousand. Got it? Yas. Nowthen, about statooary--"

  "Good God!"

  "Don't call on the Lord so loud. I reckon he's nearer than you giveHim credit fer. Statooary comes high, too, but one don't want overlymuch of it. A leetle gives a tone to a parlour. Put down fivethousand. Got it! Yas. Furniture an' fixins, lemmee see! Wal, when itcomes to buyin' fixin's, Mis' Panel beats the world. Put down tenthousand more. Total, please!"

  "Two hundred and fifteen thousand and one hundred dollars."

  "Make out yer personal note to me an' Mis' Panel fer that amount. Oneday after date. An' consideration. Sunny Bushes, oil, mortgage an'all, but _not_ the stock, I wouldn't sell any living critter tosech as you. There's pen an' ink all handy."

  We heard the scratching of pen on paper.

  "Ye look mighty pleased," said Uncle Jap, "an' it's not because yergittin' a property wuth a million for a quarter its value, nor becauselate in the day ye've squared an ugly account, but because yerthinkin' that this yere note ain't wuth the paper it's written on. An'it ain't-yit."

  Again Mrs. Panel nudged me. Her beatific expression told me moreeloquently than words that her Jasper was the greatest man on earth.

  "Notes-of-hand given by onreliable parties must be secured," saidUncle Jap slowly. "This yere is goin' to be secured by a confession,dictated by me, written out an' signed by you. When the note is paid,I hand over the confession--see! If the note ain't paid prompt, theconfession goes to the noospapers of this enlightened land. I shallgit something from them for sech a remarkable doccyment. But, first ofall, here an' now, you can make a small payment on the note. Give methat di'mond ring, an' the di'mond pin. _Quick_!"

  A moment later these corruscating gems were swept into Uncle Jap'shand.

  "What did they cost ye?"

  "Twenty-seven hundred dollars."

  "Suffering Moses! Endorse that as paid on the back of the note. Got itdown? Yas." Uncle Jap folded up the note and placed it carefully in alarge pocket-book. "Now write out, good an' plain, what I tell ye.Ready? Date an' address first. That's right. Now----"

  Obviously, he was pulling himself together for a tremendous literaryeffort. Mrs. Panel had hold of my arm, and was squeezing it hard.Uncle Jap began--

  "'_This is to certify that I, Nathaniel Leveson, the undersigned,have been fooling with the wrong end of a mule, viz., Jasper Panel,who's as self-opinionated a critter as ever marched with Sherman tothe Sea_----' What air you doing?"

  Leveson had laid down his pen. "This is farce," he said sharply.

  "We'll hev your criticism after the play is over," retorted Uncle Japdecisively. "I'm talkin' now. Pick up that thar pen, and don't lay itdown agen till I tell ye, or," the muzzle of the Colt almost touchedthe perspiring forehead of the Colossus, "or else, by Golly, thar'llbe a terr'ble muss to clean up in here to-morrer mornin'. That'sbetter. Lemmee see, whar was I? _'Sherman to the Sea,_' yas. Now:'_I tried to down Jasper Panel, and he's downed me. I'm a nateralborn hog, and I eat with all four feet in the trough.'_ Underlinethat, it's good. _'I'm big, an sassy, an' full o' meanness, but whatsand I've got ain't to be seen with a double-barrelled microscope. I'mas false as Judas; an' Ananias wouldn't be seen walkin' arm in armwith me in the place whar I'd oughter be to-night. I'd steal milk froma blind kitten an' sell it as cream to my own mother five minutesafter.'_ Underline that: it's straight goods. Now then fer thefinish. _'I wouldn't offer a fair price fer Sunny Bushes, because Iaimed ter git it fer nothing. I wouldn't allow others to buy it ferthe same reason. I used the power that the Devil give me to prevent arailroad, which I own, furnishin' cars to J. Panel, an' las'ly, Icaused money ter be loaned to said J. Panel so's to git him completelyunder my heel. Also I built a church in San
Lorenzy, an' I write theseyere lines in the vestry of it as a sorter penance. I swear solemnthat this is the first time in my life that I ever tole the truth, an'I'll never do it agen, if I know myself._'

  "Sign that, an' give it ter me," said Uncle Jap.

  Leveson, purple with rage and humiliation, signed it.

  * * * * *

  At this psychological moment we made our presence known.

  "Uncle Jap," said I, "don't you think that document ought to bewitnessed."

  "Jee-whillikins! Ef it ain't you. Who's that a-peekin' behind ye?"

  "It's me, Jaspar," said Mrs. Panel meekly.

  Uncle Jap unlocked the door of the vestry and let us in. Leveson sathuddled up in his chair. Uncle Jap prodded him with the ancient pistolwhich he still held in his hands.

  "Can't you offer a lady a chair?" he said testily. Leveson offered hischair, upon the extreme edge of which Mrs. Panel deprecatingly seatedherself. Uncle Jap eyed her with wrinkled interrogation.

  "What in thunder brought ye to San Lorenzy?"

  Mrs. Panel twisted her fingers.

  "I looked in the drawer, an' I see _that_," she indicated theweapon, "was missin'."

  "Did ye? Now, Lily Panel, you don't mean to tell me that you thought Iwas goin' ter murder this feller?"

  Mrs. Panel looked at Leveson with an expression which I have seen inthe eyes of foothill mothers, whose children run barefoot, when theyhave found a rattlesnake. Then she drawled out: "Wal, I hoped youmight, but----"

  "Why, Lily! You hoped I might?"

  "Yes; but I feared you'd git murdered first. Oh Jaspar, I didn't knowyou was sech a man."

  She stood up, her eyes were shining, her face radiant "Fergive me, butI reckoned you--was--petered--out?"

  "Petered out--_me_?"

  "Yas; I'm a silly, fullish woman."

  "No, you ain't. Petered out--_me_? Wal," he glanced at Leveson,"somebody _is_ petered out, but it ain't me. Did ye ever see aman scairt worse'n him? I scairt the wizard some; yas I did, but hecould run: this feller can't crawl, I reckon. An' this yere Colt wan'tloaded then, an' it ain't loaded--now. Look! What an appetite I hev!Who says supper? Now, mister," he addressed Leveson, "seein' as thestarch is outer you, I'll give ye my arm as fur as the Paloma."

  "Leave me," gurgled Leveson.

  "I'm too good a Christian. In the state yer in it'd kill ye to meetsomebody else ye've robbed. It's too risky."

  "Go, you scoundrel! Authority was returning to his voice; the oldarrogance gleamed in his eyes.

  "Scoundrel--hay?" Uncle Jap's voice became savage. "You come alongwith me--quick an' quiet. This old Colt ain't loaded, but ef I hit youover the head with the butt of it, ye'll think it is. Come!"

  In silence the four of us marched up to the Paloma, and into the bighall where a dozen men were smoking. Uncle Jap addressed the clerk ina loud, clear voice.

  "Mr. Leveson," he said, "has just concluded a leetle deal with me.He's bought Sunny Bushes an' the lake of ile for two hundred andfifteen thousand and one hundred dollars. Here is his note. Put it inthe safe for me till to-morrer."

  The chatter in the big room had ceased long before Uncle Jap hadfinished. More than one man present divined that something quite outof the ordinary had taken place. Leveson moistened his lips with histongue. His chance had come. Had he chosen to repudiate the note, hadhe denounced Uncle Jap as obtaining at the pistol point what could beobtained in no other way, the law of the land would have released himfrom his bond. But Uncle Jap had read him aright: he was a coward.

  "Yes," he said. "I've bought Sunny Bushes."

  "An' dirt cheap, too," said Uncle Jap. He spoke to the clerk in hisusual mild voice: "Can you give Mis' Panel an' me accommodation?"

  "Certainly, Mr. Panel. What sort of accommodation, sir?"

  Uncle Jap looked fondly at his wife. I doubt if she had ever crossedthe threshold of the Paloma before. I could see her blinking at themarble columns, at the velvet pile rugs, and the innumerable electriclights just turned on.

  "What sorter accommodation?" repeated Uncle Jap. "Why, anything'd dofer me, but Mis' Panel is mighty particular. We'll take the bridalsuit, if it ain't engaged."

  "Certainly; sitting-room, bedroom, and bathroom upon the first floor,"said the clerk, striking a bell for the hall porter.

  "Come, Lily," said Uncle Jap.

  She raised her head, as if she were about to protest; then she smiledcontentedly, and followed him out of the old life into the new.

 

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