Read A Damaged Reputation Page 19


  XIX.

  BROOKE'S BARGAIN.

  There was a portentous quietness in the little wooden town which did notexactly please Mr. Faraday Slocum, the somewhat discredited local agentof Grant Devine, as he ascended the steep street from the grocery store.The pines closed in upon it, but their sombre spires were growing dim,and the white mists clung about them, for dusk was creeping up thevalley. The latter fact brought Slocum a sense of satisfaction, and atthe same time a growing uneasiness. He had, as it happened, signallyfailed to collect a certain sum from the store-keeper, who had expressedhis opinion of him and his doings with vitriolic candor, and it waspartly as the result of this that very little escaped his notice as heproceeded with an ostentatious leisureliness towards his dwelling.

  A straggling row of stores and houses, log and frame and galvanizediron, jumbled all together in unsightly confusion, stretched away beforehim towards the gap in the forest where the railroad track came in, butit was the little groups of men who hung about them which occupied hisquiet attention. He saluted them with somewhat forced good-humor as hewent by, but there was no great cordiality in their responses, and someof them stared at him in uncompromising silence. There was, he felt, acertain tension in the atmosphere, and it was not without a purpose hestopped in front of the wooden hotel, where a little crowd had collectedupon the verandah.

  "It's kind of sultry to-night, boys," he said.

  Nobody responded for a moment or two, and then there was an unpleasantlaugh as somebody said, "You've hit it; I guess it is."

  Slocum remembered that most of those loungers had been glad to greethim, and even hand him their spare dollars, not long ago; but there wasa decided difference now. He was a capable business man, who could makethe most of an opportunity, and the inhabitants of the little woodentown had shown themselves disposed to regard certain triflingobliquities leniently, while they or their friends made satisfactoryprofits on the deals in ranching land and building lots he recommended.That, however, was while the boom lasted, but when the bottom had, asthey expressed it, dropped out, and a good many of them found themselvessaddled with unmarketable possessions, they commenced to be troubledwith grave doubts concerning the rectitude of his conduct. Slocum wasnaturally quite aware of this, but he was a man of nerve, and quietlywalked up the verandah steps.

  "It's that hot I must have a drink, boys. Who's coming in with me?" hesaid, genially.

  A few months ago a good many of them would have been willing to profitby the invitation, but that night nobody moved, and Slocum laughedsoftly.

  "Well," he said, "I'm not going to worry you. This is evidently atemperance meeting."

  He passed into the empty bar alone, and a man who leaned upon thecounter in his shirt sleeves shook his head as he glanced towards theverandah.

  "They're not in a good humor to-night. It looks very much as if someonehas been talking to them?" he said.

  Slocum smiled a little, though he had already noticed this, and takenprecautions the bar-keeper never suspected.

  "I guess they'll simmer down. Who has been talking to them?" he said.

  "The two ranchers you sold the Hemlock Range to. There was another manwho'd bought a piece of natural prairie, and it cost him most of fivedollars before he got through telling them what he thought of you. Now,I don't know what their notion is, but I'd light out for a little if Iwas you."

  Slocum appeared to reflect. "Well," he said, "I may go to-morrow."

  "I'd go to-night," said the bar-keeper, significantly. "I guess it wouldbe wiser."

  Slocum, who did not consider it necessary to tell him that he quiteagreed with this, went out, and a few minutes later stopped outside hishouse, which was the last one in the town. A big, rudely-painted sign,nailed across the front of it, recommended any one who desired to buy orsell land and mineral properties or had mortgages to arrange, to come inand confer with the agent of Grant Devine. He glanced back up thestreet, and was relieved to notice that there was nobody loitering aboutthat part of it. Then he looked at the forest the trail led into, whichwas shadowy and still, and, slipping round the building, went in throughthe back of it. A woman stood waiting him in a dimly-lighted room, whichwas littered with feminine clothing besides two big valises and an arrayof bulky packages. She was expensively dressed, but her face wasanxious, and he noticed that her fingers were quivering.

  "You're quite ready, Sue?" he said.

  The woman pointed to the packages with a little dramatic gesture. "Oh,yes," she said. "I'm ready, though I'll have to leave most two hundreddollars' worth of clothes behind me. I've no use for taking in plainsewing while you think over what you've brought me to in thepenitentiary."

  Slocum smiled drily. "If you hadn't wanted quite so many dry goods, I'mnot sure it would have come to this, but we needn't worry about thatjust now. Tom will have the horses round in 'bout five minutes. Youdon't figure on taking all that truck along with you?"

  "I do," said the woman. "I've got to have something to put on when weget to Oregon!"

  "Well," said Slocum, grimly, "I'll be quite glad to get out with a wholehide, and I guess it couldn't be done if we started with a packhorsetrain or a wagon. I hadn't quite fixed to light out until I got themessage that Devine, who didn't seem quite pleased with the lastaccounts, was coming in."

  "Could you have stood the boys off?"

  "I might have done," said Slocum, reflectively. "Still, I couldn't standoff Devine. It's dollars he's coming for, and I've got 'bout half theaccounts call for here."

  "You're going to leave him them?"

  Slocum laughed. "No," he said. "I guess they'll come in handy in Oregon.I'm going to leave him the boys to reckon with. They'll be here withclubs soon after the cars come in, and we'll be a league away down thetrail by then."

  A patter of horse hoofs outside cut short the colloquy, though there wasa brief altercation when the woman once more insisted on taking all thepackages with her. Slocum terminated it by bundling her out of the door,and, when she tearfully consented to mount a kicking pony, swung himselfto the saddle. Still, for several minutes his heart was in his mouth,as he picked his way through the blacker shadows on the skirt of thebeaten trail, until a man rose suddenly out of them.

  "Hallo!" he said. "Where're you going?"

  Slocum, leaning sideways, gave his wife's pony a cut with the switch heheld, and then laughed as he turned to the man.

  "I guess that's my business, but I'm going out of town."

  "Quite sure?" said the other, who made a sudden clutch at his bridle.

  He did not reach it, for Slocum was ready with hand and heel, and theswitch came down upon the outstretched arm. Then there was a plunge anda rapid beat of hoofs, and Slocum, swinging half round in his saddle,swept off his hat to the gasping man.

  "I guess I am," he said. "You'll tell the boys I'm sorry I couldn't waitfor them."

  Then he struck his wife's horse again. "Let him go," he said. "We'llhave three or four of them after us in about ten minutes."

  The woman said nothing, but braced herself to ride, and, while the beatof hoofs grew fainter among the silent pines, the man on foot rangasping up the climbing trail. There was bustle and consternation whenhe reached the wooden town, and, while two or three men who had goodhorses hastily saddled them, the rest collected in clusters whichcoalesced, and presently a body of silent men proceeded towards theSlocum dwelling. As they stopped in front of it, the hoot of a whistlecame ringing across the pines, and there was an increasing roar as atrain came up the valley. That, however, did not, so they fancied,concern them, and they commenced a parley with the local constable, whocame hurrying after them. His duties consisted chiefly in the raisingand peddling of fruit, and he had been recommended for the post bypopular acclaim as the most tolerant man in the settlement, but he was,it seemed, not without a certain sense of responsibility.

  "What d'you figure on doing with those clubs, boys?" he said.

  "Seasoning them," said somebody. "Mine's quite soft and green. Now,why
're you not taking the trail after Slocum? The province allows youfor a horse, and Hake Guffy's has three good legs on him, anyway."

  The constable waved his hand, deprecatingly. "He fell down and hurt oneof them hauling green stuff to the depot. I guess I'd have to shove himmost of the way."

  There was a little laughter, which had, however, a trace of grimness init, and one of the men grasped the constable's shoulder.

  "Hadn't you better go round and run Jean Frenchy's hogs out of yourcitron patch?" he said.

  For a moment the constable appeared about to go, and then his faceexpanded into a genial grin.

  "That's not good enough, boys," he said. "I'm not quite so fresh thatthe cows would eat me. What've you come round here for, anyway?"

  The man who had spoken made a little gesture of resignation. "Well," hesaid, "if you have got to know, we are going in to see if Slocum hasleft any of the dollars he beat us out of behind him."

  "No," said the constable, stoutly. "Nobody's going in there without awarrant, unless it's me."

  There was a little murmur. The man was elderly, and a trifle infirm,which was partly why it had been decided that he was most likely to finda use for the provincial pay, but he turned upon the threshold and facedthe crowd resolutely. Had he been younger, it is very probable that hewould have been hustled away, but a Western mob is usually, to someextent, at least, chivalrous, and there was another murmur of protest.

  "Go home!" said one man. "They're not your dollars, anyway."

  "Boys," and the old man swung an arm aloft, "I'm here, and I'm going tomake considerable trouble for the man who lays a hand on me. This is alaw-abiding country, and Slocum wasn't fool enough to leave anything hecould carry off."

  "We don't want to hurt you," said one of the assembly, "but we're goingin."

  There was a growl of approbation, and the men were closing in upon thedoor when a stranger pushed his way through the midst of them, and thenswung round and stood facing them beside the constable. He held himselfcommandingly, and, though nobody appeared to recognize him, for darknesswas closing down, the meaning of his attitude was plain, and the crowdgave back a little.

  "Go home, boys!" he said. "I'll most certainly have the law of any manwho puts his foot inside this door."

  There was a little ironical laughter, and the crowd once more closed in.Half the men of the settlement were present there, and a good many ofthem had bought land from, or trusted their spare dollars to, Slocum.

  "Who are you, anyway?" said one.

  The stranger laughed. "The man who owns the building. My name's Devine."

  It was a bold announcement, for those who heard him were not in the bestof humors then, or disposed to concern themselves with the question howfar the principal was acquainted with or responsible for the doings ofhis agent.

  "The boss thief!" said somebody. "Get hold of him, and bring him alongto the hotel. Then, if Thorkell can't lock him up, we'll consider whatwe'll do with him."

  "No," said another man. "He'll keep for a little without going bad, andwe're here to see if Slocum left anything behind him. Break that doorin!"

  It was a critical moment, for there was a hoarse murmur of approbation,and the crowd surged closer about the pair. At any sign of weakness itwould, perhaps, have gone hardly with them, but the elderly constablestood very still and quiet, with empty hands, while Devine fumbledinside his jacket. Then he swung one foot forward, and his right armrose, until his hand, which was clenched on a dusky object, was levelwith his shoulder.

  "Boys," he said, drily, "somebody's going to get hurt in another minute.This is my office, and I can't do with any of you inside it to-night."

  "Then, if you hand our dollars out, it would suit us most as well," saidthe spokesman.

  Devine appeared to laugh softly. "I guess there are very few of themthere. Anybody who can prove a claim on me will get satisfaction, buthe'll have to wait. Neither the place nor I will run away, and you'llfind me right here when you come along to-morrow."

  "Are you going to give every man back the dollars Slocum got from him?"

  It was evident that the question met with the approbation of the crowd,and a less resolute man might have temporized, but Devine laughed openlynow.

  "No," he said, drily. "That's just what I'm not going to do. A mantakes his chances when he makes a deal in land, and can't expect to cryoff his bargain when they go against him. Still, if any one will bringme proof that Slocum swindled him, I'll see what I can do, but I guessit will be very little if some of you destroy the books and papers herecorded the deals in. You'll have to wait until to-morrow, while Iworry through them."

  His resolution had its due effect, and the fact that no man could reachthe threshold until he and the constable had been pulled down countedfor a good deal, too. The men also wanted no more than they consideredthemselves entitled to, and shrank from what, if it was to provesuccessful, must evidently be a murderous assault upon two elderly men.

  "I guess there's sense in that," said one of them. "It's going to bequite easy to make sure he don't get out of the settlement."

  "I'm for letting him have until to-morrow, anyway," said another."Still, the papers aren't there. Where's John Collier? He picked up somebooks and truck Slocum slung away when he met him on the trail."

  "I've got them right here," and another man stepped forward. "I wascoming in from the ranch when I heard two horses pounding down thetrail, and jumped clear into the fern. The man who went past me tried tosling a package into the gully, but I guess he got kind of rattled whenI shouted, and dropped the thing. He didn't seem to want to stop, and,when he went on at a gallop, I groped round and picked the package up."

  Devine lowered the pistol, and turned quietly to the crowd. "There arejust two courses open to you, boys, and you're going to make mightylittle but trouble for yourselves by taking one of them. This is myoffice, and so long as I can hold you off nobody's coming in until he'sasked. I feel quite equal to stopping two or three. Now, if you'll letme have those books and go home quietly, I'll have straightened Slocum'saffairs out by to-morrow, and be ready to see what can be done for you."

  The men were evidently wavering, and there was a brief consultation,after which the leader turned to Devine.

  "We've no use for making any trouble that can be helped, and we'll gohome," he said. "You can have those books, and a committee will comeround to see what you've fixed up after breakfast to-morrow."

  Devine nodded tranquilly. "I guess you're wise," he said. "Good night,boys!"

  They went away, and left him to go in with the constable, who came outin a few minutes with a contented grin, which suggested that Devine hadsignified his appreciation of his efforts liberally. The latter,however, sat down, dusty and worn with an arduous journey, to undertakea night's hard work. He had left the Canopus before sunrise, and spentmost of the day in the saddle, but nobody would have suspected him ofweariness as he sat, grim and intent of face, before a table litteredwith papers. He had just imposed his will upon an angry crowd, and thetension of the past few minutes would have shaken many a younger man,but he showed no sign of feeling it, and, as the hours slipped by, onlyrose at intervals to stretch his aching limbs and brush the cigar ashfrom his dust-smeared clothes. This was one of the hard men who, inbuilding up their own fortunes, had also laid the foundations of thefuture prosperity of a great province, and a little fatigue did notcount with him.

  The settlement was very still, and the lamp-light paling as the chillydawn crept in, when at last he opened a book that recorded Slocum'sdealings several years back. There were several folded slips on which hehad jotted down certain data inside it, and Devine smiled somewhat drilyas he came upon one entry:--

  "24th. 6,000 dollars from Harford Brooke, in purchase of 400 acres bushland, Quatomac Valley. Ref. 22, slip B."

  Devine turned up 22 B, and read: "Mem. About 150 acres 200-foot pines,with gravel sub-soil, and very little mould on top of it. Rest of itrock. Oregon man bid 1,000 dollars on the 2nd, but
asked for re-surveyand cried off. 12th. Gave Custer four days' option at 950. 20th. Askedthe British sucker 6,500, and clinched the deal at 6,000."

  Devine closed the book, and sat thoughtfully still for a minute or two.The epithet his agent had applied to Brooke carried with it the stigmaof puerile folly in that country, and Devine had usually very littlesympathy with the men it could be fittingly attached to. Still, he feltthat nobody could very appropriately term his contractor a sucker now,and he had just discovered that he had been systematically plunderedhimself. Several points which had given him food for reflection alsobecame suddenly plain, and he lighted another cigar before he fell towork again. He had, however, in the meanwhile decided what course toadopt with Brooke when he went back to the Canopus mine.