The Short Cut

by Jackson Gregory

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE TRUTH

  "Garth!"

  There was a peculiar sternness in Wayne Shandon's voice that made hiscousin start in a way which, to Shandon's taut nerves, seemed instantlya sign of guilt. Conway finished the work he was doing, snapped theheavy padlock into the log chain, which fastened the double doors ofthe small building where odds and ends were stored during the winter,and came on through the snow, smiting his hands together to get thechilled blood running.

  "Hello, Wayne," he answered. "What's up?"

  "That's what I want to know," briefly. "What do you know about amortgage on the Bar L-M?"

  It was too dark for Shandon to see the other's face clearly. Henoticed that Garth hesitated just a second before answering.

  "What do you mean?" Conway's voice sought to be confident and failed.Shandon's fist snapped shut involuntarily. It was almost, he thought,as if Garth had answered him directly.

  "I mean just this: Did you know that the Bar L-M was mortgaged toMartin Leland for twenty-five thousand dollars?"

  Garth Conway would not have been himself but some very different manhad there not been a considerable pause before he replied.

  "Yes," he said at last, a little doggedly. "I knew it."

  "Arthur mortgaged it the day he was killed? Or the day before?"

  "Yes."

  "And the mortgage was foreclosed three months ago?"

  "Yes."

  "And you never told me about it! Why?"

  "I should have done so, I suppose," Garth said nervously. "But--Well, the first thing you hit out for the East. You weren't attendingto business then, Wayne. You wrote me to take charge of everything,not to bother you with ranch affairs. You gave me a power ofattorney--"

  "I've been back half a year," said Shandon shortly. "I've beenattending to business. Why haven't you told me?"

  Conway drew back a quick step as though he feared from his cousin'sharsh voice that physical violence would follow.

  "I didn't think of it," he said weakly, and at the same time with apitiful attempt at defiance.

  "You lie!"

  The words came distinctly enunciated, cold and hard, a little pauseseparating the two syllables so that each cut like a stab.

  "Look here, Wayne," Garth said stiffly, "if you, who have never done asingle thing seriously in your life want to get sore because I haveneglected a matter of no pressing importance--"

  "Good Lord!" cried Wayne. "No pressing importance! You'd handle mybusiness for me, keep all knowledge of a foreclosure from me, until theyear of redemption had passed? You'd let Martin Leland close me out,would you? You and Hume and Leland would take the water from theriver. Good God! I never thought this sort of thing of you or Leland!You'd all get rich by smashing me, and then you, you two-faced littlecur, would buy the Bar L-M back from Leland for nothing, with moneyyou'd taken from Arthur and me! Why, you petit [Transcriber's note:petty?] larceny sneak, I don't know why I am talking with you insteadof slapping your dirty face!"

  "If you will talk reasonably--"

  "Talk reasonably? You're damned right I will! Why did Arthur borrowtwenty-five thousand dollars to begin with? What went with it? Whogot it?"

  "I don't know what he wanted it for," snapped Garth. "I don't knowwhat went with it. I suppose the man who murdered him robbed him, too."

  "You don't mean he had a sum like that with him in cash?"

  "Yes. He insisted upon it. I was with Leland when the money wasturned over."

  "And you--_forgot_--to tell me that!"

  Conway, though his lips moved, made no audible reply. Wayne stoodstaring at him a moment, his face white with passion. Suddenly hecried out in a voice shaking with fury as he lifted one hand high abovehis head and brought it smashing down into his open palm.

  "Get off of the place!" he shouted. "Sneak back to Leland; go whimperabout Sledge Hume's legs. Tell Leland that I said that you are adamned scoundrel and that he's another! Tell him that I said that I amgoing to make the whole thieving pack of you eat out of my hand beforeI let up on you. And now, for God's sake, go!"

  He whirled and went back to the house with long strides. He flung widethe door, and as he came swiftly to the fireplace, his face still whiteand hard, he thrust out his hand to Helga Strawn, grasping hers asthough it had been a man's.

  "I'm with you," he said crisply. "I'll see Ruf Ettinger myselfto-morrow."

  Her eyes which had been frowning during Dart's latest attempt to beentertaining, grew suddenly brilliant, her cheeks flushed happily.

  "Dart," Wayne, continued, turning to the little man who had begunnodding his head approvingly when Wayne's shoulder had struck the doorand who was still nodding, "you've done me a good turn to-night. I'mnot ungrateful. But Miss--"

  "Hazleton," prompted Dart.

  "--will have to be going right away and I want to talk with her alone."

  "Sure," agreed Dart. "I'll get my book and go down to the bunk house.I'm reading a swell story about a guy named Jupiter and a skirt named--"

  For the first and only time on record Willie Dart stopped his flow ofwords because of the look he saw on a man's face. He went outsnatching his book from the table as he passed. On his way to the bunkhouse he stopped long enough to shake his head and rub his chin.

  "I'm giving odds, ten to one," he reflected, "that the Weak Sisterdon't loaf around here all night counting snowflakes."

  "Something has happened, Mr. Shandon," Helga said sharply.

  Shandon laughed shortly and picked up his pipe.

  "A great deal has happened," he told her. "I've been a fool and anovergrown baby long enough. Let's get down to business. You can'tstay here all night."

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  "For want of a chaperon, I suppose? I'm not worried about what peoplesay or think, Mr. Shandon. And, besides, there's no place to go."

  "You can't stay, any way," he answered a little roughly. "You can getback to the Leland place. They'll keep you over night. Now, let's getthis thing straight. You hope to get back your property from Hume?"

  Swiftly their roles had changed; he was dominant now, he asked hisquestion in a tone that demanded an answer and she gave the answer.

  "Yes."

  "How?"

  "I can't tell you definitely. If you'll come to me in two weeks or amonth I can tell you. For one thing, Hume is a man, I am a woman."

  "You are going to try to make him fall in love with you?"

  "Other men have done it," she said indifferently.

  "Other men are not Sledge Hume. But that is your end of it. I amgoing to tie up Ruf Ettinger and any other stragglers I can get myhands on. If you can get back the property we'll take you in. We'llform a company, we'll pool our interests. We'll force these otherfellows to sell to us at our own figure, by the Lord! I've got thewater!"

  "If I could force Sledge Hume to sell his inherited interest to me,"she cried, "if I could make him sell to me as I sold to him, for awretched twenty-five thousand dollars--"

  "What!" he broke in excitedly. "How much did Hume pay you?"

  "Twenty-five thousand. Why?" curiously.

  "_When_?"

  "I remember the date exactly."

  She told him. It was barely two weeks after the death of ArthurShandon.

  Sudden suspicion in Wayne Shandon's brain had sprung full grown intopositive certainty.

  "If you can't get your property back one way," was the last thing hesaid, "I can get it for you in another. Helga Strawn, you had betterleave Sledge Hume to me."