CHAPTER IX
THE CONTEMPT OF SLEDGE HUME
The window shades in the study were half drawn so that in the lateafternoon the room was shadowy. From the fireplace crackling flamescast wavering gleams across the polished oaken table top and the heavymission furniture. Leland had not stirred from the chair into which hehad sunk after Wayne Shandon's going. Shandon had been gone an hour;he had met Garth Conway at the bridge and now Garth was with Leland.
There was no longer in the old man's eye or bearing a hint of thebattle which he had fought all day. He had gone through the hours ofhis inner struggle and as it had ended three months ago so had it endedto-day. He knew that he would not open his mind to consider thequestion again. His full piercing eyes were stern and determined.Purposefully he had set his feet into the path he meant to followwithout swerving. In a moment of hesitation and uncertainty thesupreme argument had come to him; if for no other reason, he must ruinShandon to save his own daughter from her folly.
"Garth," he said quietly, his deep voice retaining no trace of theemotion which had wracked him only an hour ago, "I am very glad thatyou have come. I have been expecting you all day."
"I met Wayne," Garth said hastily, watching Leland anxiously. "He wasriding like the very devil. I never saw his face look as it did as heshot by me. He had been over here?"
"Yes. I had a plain talk with him. I made it clear to him that he wasnot again to set foot on my land."
"You didn't tell him--"
"I told him nothing! The man deserves no consideration at my hands.It is not my affair to tell him." He paused a moment, bending his gazethoughtfully upon Conway's troubled face. "You have had time to think.What are you going to do?"
Garth opened his lips to speak, hesitated and closed them without aword. The air of uneasiness which he had brought with him into theroom grew more marked. He shifted a little in his chair. Leland,watching him steadily, waited for him to speak.
"I don't know what to do," Conway blurted out finally. "You were sosure all the time he'd never come back.--Now if I don't tell him allabout the mortgage and foreclosure there's chance on top of chancehe'll find it out himself before the nine months drag by. And then--"He flashed a startled glance up at Leland's calm face. "He'd kill me!What can I do?"
"You can keep your mouth shut," answered Martin tersely. "You stillhave his power of attorney, haven't you?"
Garth nodded, his head down again, his fingers nervously busy with hislip.
"Conway," Leland continued with quiet emphasis, his keen glancewatching for the effect of his words, "in sheer justice you have tentimes more right to be owner of the Bar L-M than that mad fool has.You have slaved for over a year to make it what it is while he has beensquandering money you had to scrape to send him. Even while Arthur wasalive you were the actual manager. And now all that you have to do iskeep still and you can have the place for a very small fragment of whatit is worth. God knows I wouldn't put foot on it. There is nothingthat the law can touch you for; we have seen to that. Nor will you bedoing a dishonourable thing. It is sheer justice, Garth, that you andI will be meting out to him."
Conway's cheeks flushed a little, his eyes brightened at the thought ofbeing some day the owner of the Bar L-M.
"But there's the chance--" he began.
"You are playing for big stakes," Leland reminded him crisply. "Ofcourse there is a chance. But you exaggerate it. Play the gamethrough and you will be a rich man before the year is out."
Before Conway could speak there came the clamorous barking of dogs inthe yard and the noise of a horse's shod hoofs. In a moment there wasa heavy booted stride up the steps and along the porch, followed by aloud rap at the study door. At Leland's nod Garth sprang to his feetand went quickly to the door, flinging it open.
For a second Sledge Hume's great frame filled the doorway as he paused,looking in sharply, drawing at his gauntlets. Then, brushing byConway, he entered and stood with his back to the fireplace, stilldrawing off his gauntlets, his hat still low over his brows.
"Well?" he asked bluntly.
Just the short word, uttered as a command. There would be no wastingof words before they came straight to business. There was about theman, emanating apparently from his physical body something oddly like amaterialised aura, bespeaking an aggressive character, a strong,dominant personality. Conway, alone with Leland, was a school boy inthe presence of his master. Hume, ignoring Garth, challenged thatsuperiority which Conway's weaker nature acknowledged unconsciously.The look of his eye, the very carriage of his handsome head, invitedopposition, questioned an authority other than his own. A big, strongman physically his manner gave the impression that he was a big, strongman intellectually.
Old Martin did not at once speak but sat very still save for therestless fingers upon the table top. It was Conway who, after a briefhesitation, answered.
"We're going to stand pat--"
"I wasn't talking to you, Conway," said Hume coolly. "As far as I amconcerned you aren't even a fifth wheel in this thing and you ought toknow it. I want to know what Leland has got to say."
Garth coloured angrily but made no reply as he turned questioning eyesto the older man.
"Very well, Mr. Hume," said Leland quietly. "Do you care to sit downwhile we thresh things out?"
"No, I'll stand. Go ahead."
"To begin with, Wayne Shandon is back."
"I know he is back," spat out Hume. "That's why I'm here. What areyou going to do now?"
"We are going ahead just as though he weren't here."
"You think that you can put the thing across?"
"Why not?"
"Just because," Hume shot back at him, "it doesn't seem likely thatwith the whole country knowing about the foreclosure of the mortgagesomebody isn't going to do some talking."
Leland shook his head.
"Let me sum up the case for you," he said. "Arthur Shandon, the daybefore his death, mortgaged the Bar L-M to me for twenty-five thousand.When time for foreclosure came three months ago Wayne Shandon wouldhave been notified if he had been here. As it was the notice went tohis legal representative, Garth Conway. Conway allowed the Bar L-M togo under the hammer and at the sheriff's sale Conway himself bought itin--"
"For you," interjected Hume.
"Yes, for me. But who knows that? People who paid any attention tothe transaction came to understand that it had been because of WayneShandon's known shiftlessness that the property was allowed to be sold,they knew that Conway was his agent, and that Conway bought it in.There is not a man living who knows anything about the matter who doesnot believe that Conway bought at Shandon's orders and with Shandon'smoney; and that the Bar L-M is Shandon's now and was never in any realdanger from me. Is it likely then, that any man who believes this is,after this length of time, even going to think to mention the matter toShandon?"
"You've got the chance to get by with it," said Hume slowly. "And it'sa damned good chance."
"We all know the sort Shandon is," continued Leland. "I shall besurprised if he doesn't tire of the life here in six weeks, put througha sale of cattle, take the money and go again. With him away ourchance becomes a certainty. In any case, I am going ahead with ourwork. I have had Garth look into the title of the Dry Lands and hefinds that it is perfect."
"Yes. The land is mine and is clear."
"All we need now is the water and we are going to have that in anothernine months when I shall have a clear deed to the Bar L-M. Garth andmyself have gone ahead as I told you that we would, taking options onevery acre we could get in Dry Valley. Before many days we shallvirtually control the whole of the valley, just the three of us.Between us Garth and I have expended upwards of fifty thousand dollarsin the last five weeks in options and out-right purchases."
"Let me see the papers," said Hume shortly.
Leland went to the safe and taking out a number of papers, handed themto Hume.
"All right as far as it goes,
" Hume said when at length he had finishedhis careful examination of the documents and had tossed them to thetable. "You haven't got the Norfolk place nor the Ettinger place.What's the matter? They are more important to us than all the rest puttogether. Did they smell a rat?"
"I don't know. I am confident of closing with Norfolk in a few days,although I may have to pay him five dollars an acre more than I offeredany one else. Ettinger is holding out for seventy-five thousanddollars, cash."
"Then he does smell a rat!" Hume's fist came crashing down upon themantelpiece. "By God, somebody's been talking too much!"
"Mr. Hume," Leland reminded him sternly, "may I call to your attentionthe fact that nobody knows a thing about this matter exceptingyourself, Garth and me? I haven't so much as told my wife--"
"You?" cried Hume hotly. "Who said that you had? You've got brainsenough to hold your tongue. That's why I came to you in the firstplace. But Conway here--"
He swung suddenly upon Garth, his eyes flaming, his face distorted withwrath. Before either of the two men had guessed his purpose he strodeswiftly across the room, and gripping Conway's shoulders with his twobig hands jerked him to his feet.
"Conway," he snarled, his face close to the others, his eyes burning,his breath hot in Garth's blanched face, "you queer this deal with yourinfernal gab and I'll--"
He broke off sharply, flinging Conway backward from him so that thesmaller man's body crashed against the wall.
"Hume!" cried Leland angrily. "I'll have no quarrelling in my house.If you can't act--"
"I haven't come here to-day for a love feast," sneered Hume, alreadyforgetting Conway as he whirled upon Martin. "What I've got to sayI'll say my way whether you and your cursed white rat like it or not.I say that somebody has been talking too damned much! That place ofEttinger's as it is, without the water, isn't worth twenty-fivethousand. He'd have sold it for that a month ago and glad of thechance to unload. Now he holds out for seventy-five thousand! What'sthe answer? You've dragged Conway into this thing; I haven't. Iwanted no man in it but you and Arthur Shandon and myself. You becauseyou had the money, Arthur Shandon because he had the lake and theriver. I didn't want Conway. He's your pet, not mine. Now, muzzlehim if you can."
Garth's angry retort, the first word he had said since Hume sprangunexpectedly upon him, was lost in the low rumble of Martin Leland'sheavy voice.
"You've said what you wanted to say, Mr. Hume. We've heard it. Weunderstand each other. I can vouch for Conway's discretion. If youare as careful yourself we are all right. I'll attend to both Ettingerand Norfolk. I shall also see that at the end of the nine months theBar L-M is mine and that we have the water for Dry Valley."
Hume laughed. Without again looking toward Conway he stooped, pickedup the gauntlets he had let fall, and turned to the door.
"You are nobody's fool, Leland," he said patronisingly. "You aretaking a chance in freezing Red Shandon out but the law can't go afteryou. And you stand to win a wad of money."
"Mr. Hume," interposed Leland sternly. "I am not taking over the BarL-M because there happens to be money in it. I am simply using theweapon of retribution which God has seen fit to put into my hands--"
"Oh, rot!" grunted Hume sneeringly. "Don't come trying to square yourconscience with me. I say, go to it, if you can get across with it."
He jerked the door open and then stopped suddenly his hand still on theknob.
"If you do slip up," he said bluntly, "if Red Shandon does hear aboutit and gets busy, let me know. If he starts making trouble I can puthim where he'll be out of the way!"
The door closed loudly behind him.