All the next day, and the next, Mary watched the door and on the morning of the third Rimrock came. From motives of prudence the badly shaken Jepson had suggested that she see him first and she had consented with an understanding smile. He slipped in quietly, glancing furtively around, and then looked at her coldly in the eye.
"Well," he said with an accusing smile, "I see you sold out to Stoddard, too."
She turned away wearily and, picking up a letter, laid it down on the counter before him.
"There's a notice," she said as if she had not heard him, "that I've been asked to turn over to you."
He glanced at it impatiently and then, confused by its verbiage, looked up with a questioning scowl.
"What's all this?" he asked. And then, in a louder tone: "Where'd you get this paper?"
"It was sent to me," she answered, "as secretary of the Company. But it's only a matter of form. When you left New York a general summons was published in a legal paper and in ninety days you will have to appear or lose your stock by default."
"Uhr! Pretty nice!" he sneered, and came in and sat down in a chair. "Pretty nice!" he repeated as he took off his hat and glanced around the room, "you must've known I was coming. What's the matter?" he burst out as she made no answer, "can't you hear, or don't you care?"
"I can hear," she replied categorically, "and I don't care."
"Oh! Like the rest of 'em, hey? Got no use for me, now. And so I'm summoned to appear in court? I come back home and the first thing you shove at me is this here little notice." He drummed on a desk with the rolled-up paper, but as she sighed he changed his tone. "Well, well," he said, "you've got things all changed since Rimrock was here before."
"Yes," she answered with her old-time pleasantness. "Mr. Jepson did it. I found it like this myself."
"'S that so?" observed Rimrock and gazed at her curiously. "How long ago was that?"
"Oh, back in November. It was about the twentieth. I came to send out the notices."
"Oh! Ah, yes! For the annual meeting. Well, you put a crimp in me then. Just by passing that dividend you dropped me so flat that I lost every dollar I had."
"Very likely," she observed with no sign of regret, "but you should have attended the meeting."
"Attended the meeting!" he repeated angrily. "I had something else to do! But is that any excuse for stopping my dividend and leaving me for Stoddard to clean?"
"If you had come to the meeting," she responded evenly, but with an answering fire in her eyes, "and explained that you needed the money, I might have voted differently. As it was I voted for the smelter."
"The smelter?"
"Why, yes! Didn't you get my letter? We're going to build a smelter."
"Oh, my Lord!" raved Rimrock, "did you let them fool you on that old, whiskered dodge? Sure I got your letter—but I never read it—the first few lines were enough! When I saw that you'd sold me out to Stoddard and gone and passed that dividend——" He paused—"Say, what's the matter?"
She had forgotten at last her studied calm and was staring at him with startled eyes.
"Why—didn't you read about Ike Bray?"
"Ike Bray! Why, no; what's the matter with Ike? I just came in—on the freight."
"Then you don't know that your claim has been jumped, and——"
"Jumped!" yelled Rimrock, rising suddenly to his feet and making a clutch for his gun.
"Yes—jumped! The Old Juan claim! The assessment work was never done."
"Uh!" grunted Rimrock and sank back into his chair as if he had received a blow. "Not done?" he wailed staggering wildly up again. "My—God! Did L. W. go back on me, too? Didn't Hassayamp or anybody just think to go out there and see that the holes were sunk? Oh, my Lord; but this is awful!"
"Yes, it is," she said, "but it wouldn't have happened if you had come out here yourself. And if you'd just read my letter instead of throwing it down the minute it didn't happen to please——" She stopped and winked back the angry tears that threatened to betray her hurt. "But now go on, and blame me for this—you blame me for everything else! Curse and swear and ask me what I was doing when all this came to pass! Ah, you expect more of others, Mr. Rimrock Jones, than you ever do of yourself; and now it will be me or poor L. W. that will come in for all the——"
She broke down completely and buried her face in her arms while Rimrock stood staring like a fool. He was stunned, astounded; put beyond the power to listen, or reason, or think. All he knew was that some time, when he was away and while no one was there to befriend, Ike Bray his enemy had climbed up the butte and jumped the Old Juan claim. And all the time he was dallying in New York and playing his puny string at Navajoa the Old Juan claim and the mighty Tecolote had been left unguarded until they were jumped.
"Where's L. W.?" he asked, coming suddenly from his trance; and she was sitting there, dry-eyed as before.
"He's gone to the hospital. Bray shot him through the arm in a quarrel over the claim."
"What? Shot L.W.? Well, the little shrimp! Just wait till I get to him with this!"
He tapped his pistol and a wry, cynical smile came over her tear-stained face.
"Yes! Wait!" she mocked. "You'll be a long time waiting. He's under the protection of the court. No, you can put up that pistol and never miss it—this case will be tried by law."
"Well, we'll see about that," he answered significantly. "I've got a look-in on this, myself."
"No, I don't think you have," she responded firmly. "The claim was the property of the Company."
"Well, what of that?"
"Why, only this, that the case is out of your hands. Ike Bray has disappeared, the claim is recorded, and only the Company can sue."
"What, do you mean to say that when my claim is jumped I can't begin suit to get it back?"
"Why, certainly. You have transferred that claim to the Company."
"Well, why didn't Jepson do that work? Do you mean to say that that high-priced man, getting his twenty-five thousand a year, deliberately sat down and let that assessment work lapse and then let Ike Bray jump it?"
"Yes," she nodded, "that's it."
"But——" He stopped and a wave of sudden intelligence swept the passion from his face.
"It's Stoddard!" he said and once more she nodded, then waited with an understanding smile.
"Yes, it's Stoddard," she said. "But of course we can't prove it. Mr. Bray has already begun suit."
"What, suit to dispossess us? Does he claim the whole works? Well, there must be somebody behind him. You don't think it could be—what? Well, doesn't that—beat——"
"Yes, it does!" she cut in hastily. "The whole thing has been very carefully thought out."
He slapped his leg and, rising from his chair, paced restlessly to and fro.
"How'd you know all this?" he demanded at last and something in the nagging, overbearing way he said it woke the smouldering fires of her hate.
"Mr. Jones," she said rising up to face him, "we might as well understand each other right now. From the very first you have taken it for granted that I have sold you out. You don't need to deny it, because you have used those very words—but please don't do it again. And please don't speak to me in that tone of voice, as if I had done you some great wrong.Youare the one that has donemea wrong and I assure you, I will never forget. But from this time on, if you want anything of me, please ask for it like a gentleman. Now what do you want to know?"
"I want to know," began Rimrock slowly and then he broke down and smote the desk. "You have too sold me out!" he exploded in a fury, "you have—I don't care what you say! You stood in with Stoddard to pass that dividend and, by grab, you can't deny it! If you'd voted with L. W.——"
"Very well!" returned Mary in a tone that silenced him, "I see that you don't wish to be friends. And I want to tell you, in parting, that you expect a constancy from women that you signally lack yourself. I will send Mr. Jepson down to be sworn at."
When Jepson, pale and anxious, sidled warily into the office he found Rimrock sitting thoughtfully in a chair. Some time had passed, for Jepson's wife had delayed him, but time alone could not account for the change. Rimrock was more than quiet, he was subdued; but when he looked up there was another change. In Abercrombie Jepson he saw, without question, the tool and servitor of Stoddard, the man who had engineered his downfall. And Jepson's smile as he came forward doubtfully—but with the frank, open manner he affected—was sickly and jaundiced with fear. It was a terrible position that he found himself placed in and his wife was crying, upstairs.
"Ah, good morning, Mr. Jepson," said Rimrock pleasantly and put his hand behind his back.
"Good morning," returned Jepson, drawing in a deep breath, "is there anything I can do?"
"Yes," said Rimrock coldly. "I've been away for some time. I'd like to know what's going on. You'll excuse me, Mr. Jepson, if I ask you a few questions about the jumping of the Old Juan claim."
"Ah, yes, yes," spoke up Jepson briskly, "very regrettable case, I'm sure. But you must remember, if you'll pardon my mentioning it, that I spoke of this possibility before. The Old Juan claim, as I told you at the time, placed our entire property in jeopardy. It should have been re-located before all this had happened; but I have turned over the whole affair to our attorneys, McVicker and Ord."
"And what do they think?"
"Well, as to that, I can't say. You see, I have really been frightfully busy. Still, they are a very good firm and I think very likely the affair can somehow be compromised. Looks very bad for the Company, as far as the law goes, if you should ask my private opinion; but all such litigation, while of course very expensive, generally results, in the end, in a compromise."
"Oh, a compromise, eh? Well, sit down a minute; I want to find out a few details. Do you think now, for instance, that Whitney H. Stoddard is back of this man, Ike Bray? Because if he is, and their claim is a good one, it might make some difference to me."
He said this so naturally and with such apparent resignation that Jepson almost rose to the bait, but he had learned Rimrock's ways too well. Such an admission as that, if made before the trial, might seriously affect Stoddard's case. And besides, this was a matter for lawyers.
"Well, as to that, Mr. Jones," he replied apologetically, "I really cannot say. As superintendent of the mine, and lately as acting manager, I am fully occupied, I am sure——"
"Yes, no doubt," observed Rimrock, suddenly changing his tone, "but you've got more time, now—I'll take that manager job off your hands."
"What? Take charge of the mine again?" cried Jepson aghast. "Why, I thought——"
"Very likely," returned Rimrock, "but guess again. I'm still general manager, unless the Directors have fired me; and believe me, I'm going to take charge. In the next few days I'm going to go through this office with a six-shooter and a fine-tooth comb and if I find a single dollar paid out to Ike Bray some ex-manager is liable to get shot. You understand that, now don't you, Mr. Jepson? All right then; we can go ahead. Now will you kindly tell me how, as general manager and mine superintendent, and being worried so much over that claim, you came to let the ordinary assessment work lapse on the apex claim to our mine?"
He leaned back in his chair and put one hand in his pocket and Jepson broke into a sweat. It is no easy task for a man to serve two masters, and Rimrock had exposed a heavy pistol.
"Well—why, really!" burst out Jepson in desperation, "I thought you had entrusted that to Mr. Lockhart. He told me so, distinctly, when I spoke of it in your absence, and naturally I let the matter drop."
"Yes, naturally," drawled Rimrock and as he reached for his handkerchief Jepson started and almost ran. "You're a great man, Jepson," he went on cuttingly, "a great little piece of mechanism. Now come through—what does Stoddard want?"
"Mr. Jones," began Jepson in his most earnest manner, "I give you my word of honor I don't know of what you are speaking."
"Oh, all right," answered Rimrock, "if that's the way you feel about it. You stand pat then, and pull the injured innocence? But you're not much good at it, Jepson; nothing like some people he has working for him. That fellow Buckbee is a corker. You're too honest, Jepson; you can't act the part, but Buckbee could do it to perfection. You should've been there to see him trim me, when I tried that little flier in Navajoa. Not an unkind word ever passed between us, and yet he busted me down to a dollar. He was a great fellow—you ought to know him—you could take a few leaves from his book.
"But here's the proposition as I look at it, Jepson," went on Rimrock with an ingratiating smile, "you're supposed to be strictly on the square. You're a solid, substantial, mining engineer, chiefly interested in holding your job. But on the side, as I happen to know, you're doing all this dirty work for Stoddard. Now—as general manager, if I did my duty, I ought to fire you on the spot; but I'm going to give you a chance. So I'll make you an offer and you can take it or leave it. If you'll recognize my authority as general manager and tell me what I'm entitled to know, I'll leave you where you are; but if you don't I'll not only fire you, but I'll run you out of town. Now how about it—ain't I the legal manager of this Company?"
"Why—why, yes, Mr. Jones," stammered Jepson abjectly, "as far as that goes, I'm sure no one will object. Of course it was understood, between Mr. Stoddard and me, when you went East a year ago——"
"Yes, all right, Mr. Jepson," interrupted Rimrock easily, "now how much money have we got?"
"Why, as to that," began Jepson his eyes opening wider, "there is quite a sum in the bank. Some three millions, altogether, but the most of that is set aside for the construction of the smelter."
"Ah, yes! Exactly! But that was set aside before the Old Juan claim was jumped. A smelter's no good now, if we're going to lose our mine—it would be just like making a present of it to Ike Bray."
"Oh, but my dear Mr. Jones!" burst out Jepson in dismay, "you surely wouldn't stop the smelter now?"
"Well, I don't know why not," answered Rimrock briefly. "Don't you think so now, yourself?"
He gazed at his superintendent with an unwinking smile and Jepson bowed his head.
"Oh, very well, sir," he said with a touch of servility, "but Mr. Stoddard will be greatly put out."
"You're working for me!" spoke up Rimrock sharply, "and we'll spend that money for something else."
"Spend it?"
"Yes, for lawyers! I hate the whole outfit—they're a bunch of lousy crooks—but we'll see if money don't talk. I'm going to hire, Jepson, every lawyer in this Territory that's competent to practice in the courts. Now look at it fairly, as a business proposition; would it be right to do anything else? Here's a copper property that you could sell to-morrow for a hundred million dollars gold, and the apex claim is jumped. The whole title to the mine is tied up right there—they can claim every shovelful you mine, and your mill and your smelter to boot. What kind of a business man would I be if I left this to McVicker and Ord? No, I'm going to send to San Francisco, and Denver, and Butte, and retain every mining attorney I can get. It's the only thing to do; but listen, my friend, I'm not going to tell anybody but you. So if Stoddard finds this out, or McVicker and Ord, or whatever blackleg lawyers Ike Bray has, I'll just know where to go. And one thing more—if I find you've split on me, I'll kill you like a Mexican's dog."
He rose up slowly and looked Jepson in the eye with glance that held him cold.
"Very well, sir," he said as he started to his feet. "And now, if you'll excuse me——"
"All right," nodded Rimrock and as he watched him pass out he gave way to a cynical smile.
"Good enough!" he said. "They can all go back on me, but there's one man I know I can trust!"
It was a source of real regret to Mary Fortune that she could not keep on hating Rimrock Jones. In the long, weary months that she had been away from him she had almost dismissed him from her mind. Then she had met him in New York and the old resentment had flashed up into the white heat of sudden scorn. She despised him for all that she read of his life in that encounter face to face—the drinking, the gambling, the cheap, false amusements, and the painted woman at his side. And when he returned, after ignoring her letters and allowing his mining claim to lapse, and resumed his fault-finding complaints she had put him back in his place.
But that was just it, the outburst had relieved her; she had lost her cherished hate. In the quiet of her room she remembered how he looked, so beaten and yet so bold. She remembered the blow that her words had given him when he had learned that his stock was doomed; and that greater blow when he saw even his equity placed in jeopardy by the jumping of the Old Juan. Had it not been a little cruel, to fly at him, after that? He was wrong, of course, but the occasion was great and his mind was on other things. Yet he had told her, and repeated it, that she had sold him out—and that she could never endure.
She remained resolutely away until late in the afternoon and then she returned to the office. It was her office, anyway, as much as his; and besides, she had left her ear-'phone. Not that she needed it, of course, but she must keep up appearances, although it seemed impossible to persuade people that she was no longer deaf. Even Rimrock had shouted in that old, maddening way the instant she did not reply. It was natural, of course, but with him at least she would like it the other way. She would like him to speak as he had spoken at first when he had come to her office alone. But those days were gone, along with eaves-dropping Andrew McBain, their first happiness and the golden dreams. All was gone—all but the accursed gold.
She found Rimrock alone in the silent office, running through filing cases in blundering haste.
"What are you looking for?" she asked demurely and as he noticed her amusement he smiled.
"Examining the books," he answered grimly. "Say, how much money have we got?"
"Oh, don't look there!" she said, pushing the filing drawer back into its case. "Here, I'll give you our last monthly statement, brought down to January first."
She ran through the files and with a practised hand drew out the paper he wanted.
"Much obliged," he mumbled and as he glanced at the total he blinked and his eyes opened up. "All right!" he said, "that will last me a while. I might as well spend it, don't you think? I'm General Manager, as long as I last, and it will take money to beat this man Bray."
"What, have you taken charge of the legal part of it? I thought that was left to McVicker and Ord?"
"McVicker and Ord! They're a couple of mutton-heads. Why, Bray has got Cummins and Ford. I know they're good, because they beat me out of the Gunsight; but they're nothing to the men I've retained. I've telegraphed money to ten attorneys already—the best in the United States, so Ben Birchett, my Geronimo lawyer, says—and they'll be here within a few days. It'll be a galaxy of the finest legal talent that ever took a case in Arizona. Ben told me frankly when I called him up Long Distance that we've got a very weak case; but you wait, they'll frame something up. We're fighting Stoddard, there isn't a doubt about it; but we're spending his money, too."
He met her gaze with a disarming grin and the reproaches died on her lips. After all, it was his right, after what he had suffered, to have this one, final fling. He was nothing but a child, a great overgrown boy, and it was fitting he should have his jest. And between him and Stoddard, the ice-cold lightning-calculator who kept count of every cent, there was really little to choose. Only Rimrock, of course, was human. He was a drunken and faithless gambler; a reckless, fighting animal; a crude, thoughtless barbarian; but his failings were those of a man. He didn't take advantage of everybody—it was only his enemies that he raided.
"Yes, you're spending his money," she conceded pleasantly, "but part of it is yours and—mine."
"Well, all right, then," he said after a moment's thought, "I'll show you where it's gone."
"No, I didn't mean that," she said, "my point is, don't throw it away. If we lose this suit, and I think we will, you'll need something to make a fresh start."
"Nope, it's dead loss to me, whichever way you figure it—if I don't spend it, it goes to Stoddard. He won't have any mercy on me, even if we win this case. My stock is gone when the ninety days are up. The most I can hope is to beat him on this suit. That will make my Tecolote stock more valuable and maybe I can borrow the money to pay off the debt at the bank. But I'm busted, right now; I can see my finish. It's just a question of the epitaph the boys will put over my grave, and I want that to be: 'He did his damnedest!' Then I'll get out of town with whatever I have left and begin all over again, down in Mexico."
"Oh, won't that be fine!" she cried enthusiastically, but Rimrock looked at her dubiously.
"What, to lose all my money?"
"No, to begin all over again. To get away from this trickery and dishonesty and the jealousy that spoils all your friends; and start all over again, get back to real work and build up another success!"
"You sure make it sound attractive," he answered glumly, "but there are some people who hate to lose. That's me—but cheer up, I haven't lost yet. You wait till I hire a few expert geologists and I'll prove that the Old Juan doesn't apex anything. No, absolutely nothing; not even the ore that's under it. I've got a couple of them coming, now."
She looked at him frowning.
"I don't like you that way," she said impatiently. "It sounds low and cheap, and I don't like it. And I hope when it's over and you've lost your case that you'll see that this lawlessness doesn't pay. Of course it's too late now, because I know you're going to do it, but I do want you to know how I feel. I liked you best when you were a poor, hard-handed prospector without a dollar to your name; but what happiness has it brought you—or me, either, for that matter—all this money we've got from the mine?"
"Well," began Rimrock; and then he stopped and pondered. "Say, it hasn't brought us much, after all, now has it? I've helped out a few friends, but seems like they've all gone back on me. But what makes you think I'll lose?"
He was watching her furtively, but she sensed his purpose and as quickly was on her guard.
"Because you're wrong," she said. "You haven't a case. You know you let your title lapse and now you're trying to evade the law. You're wrong, in the first place; and in the second place you're trying to be dishonest. I hope you do lose it."
"Uhrr! Thanks!" he jeered. "The same to you! If I lose, I guess you lose, too."
"I don't care," she persisted, "I want you to lose—and after it's all over, I'll tell you something."
She smiled in a mysterious and tantalizing way, but Rimrock's face never changed.
"You'd better tell me now, while you've got the chance," he suggested sitting down by her desk. "And by the way, how come you're hearing so well?"
"Oh, that reminds me!" she cried laughing gayly and picked up her ear-'phone. "What was that you said?" she asked with mock anxiety, slipping the headband over her head, and Rimrock looked at her in surprise.
"By grab!" he exclaimed, "I believe you can hear! What do you carry that thing around for?"
She twitched it off and gazed at him again with a triumphant but baffling smile.
"Yes, Icanhear," she admitted quietly, "but I'll have to ask you not to tell. Why, Mr. Jepson and some of these people fairly shout when they speak to me now."
She smiled again in such a cryptic manner that Rimrock became suddenly aroused.
"Say, what's going on?" he cried, all excitement, "have you been listening in on their schemes?"
"Why, Mr. Jones!" she exclaimed reproachfully but still with a twinkle in her eye; and Rimrock leaned forward eagerly.
"Yes, that's my name," he answered, "go ahead and tell me what you know."
"No, you wouldn't put it to the best of purposes—but hold this over your ear." She held up the attachment to his ear and, as she ran up the dial, she whispered:
"Do you think you could hear through a wall?"
"You bet!" replied Rimrock and as she took it away he gave her a searching glance. "I wonder," he said, "if you're as innocent as you look." And Mary broke down and laughed.
"I wonder," she observed, but when he questioned her further she only shook her head.
"No, indeed," she said, "I won't tell you anything—but after you lose, come around."
"No, but look!" he urged. "If I lose, you lose. Come through and tell me now."
"You called me a crook," she answered spitefully, "you said I had sold you out! Do you think I will tell you, after that? No, you're so smart, go ahead—Spend your money! Hire a lot of lawyers and experts! You think I sold you out to Stoddard? Well, go ahead—youtry to buy me! No, I'm going to show you, Mr. Rimrock Jones, that I have never sold out to anybody—that I can't be bought, nor sold. You need that lesson more than you need the money that you are wasting in vice and fraud."
She ended, panting with the anger that swept over her, and Rimrock thrust out his chin.
"Huh! Vice and fraud!" he repeated scornfully, "you certainly don't hunt for words. Is it vice and fraud to hire lawyers and experts and try to win back my own mine? What do you want me to do—go and kow-tow to Stoddard and ask him to please step on my neck?"
"No, I want you to do what you're going to do—spend the Company's money, and lose. That money is part mine, but I'll be glad to part with it if it will cure you of being such a fool."
They faced each other, each heated and angry, and then he showed his teeth in a smile.
"I know what's the matter," he said at last, "you're jealous of Mrs. Hardesty!"
She checked the denial that leapt to her lips to search for a more fitting retort.
"You flatter yourself," she said, smiling thinly, "but you do not flatter me."
"Yeah, 'vice and crime.' That shows where you good people fall down. I suppose you think that she was anawfuldisreputable woman! Well, she wasn't; she was just another of Stoddard's stool-pigeons that he uses to work suckers like me. She got me back there and helped him bleed me and then she kissed me good-bye—so!"
He made the motion of slamming a door and his eyes turned dark with fury.
"She had a good line of talk herself," he sneered, "and her heart was as black as that book!"
He pointed to a book that was black indeed but Mary said never a word. This was news to her, and perhaps it was balm that would in time cure a wound in her heart, but now it rankled deep.
"I think," she said at last, "the most pitiable spectacle in the world is you, Mr. Rimrock Jones. You try to buy friends, as if they were commodities, and you try to buy them wholesale. You set up the drinks and try to buy the whole town, but what is the result of it all? Why, you simply attract a lot of leeches and bloodsuckers whose sole purpose is to get your money. And then, when you finally become disillusioned, you class them all together. You don't deserve any friends!"
"Well, maybe not!" he answered truculently, "but who's got the most, right now? You or me? Look at Old Hassayamp Hicks, and Woo Chong—and L. W.!"
A swift, almost instantaneous, change swept over her sensitive face and then she closed down her lips; yet Rimrock was quick enough to see it.
"What's the matter?" he challenged. "What's the matter with L. W.? Ain't he stood by me like a rock? He's in the hospital right now with a busted arm, and I won't hear a word against him. No, my troubles have been with women."
A swifter spasm, almost ugly in its rage, came over Mary Fortune's lips; and then she shut them down again.
"Yes," she said with a sarcastic smile, "I've heard women say the same about men."
"Oh, you've always got some come-back," he went on blusteringly, "but I notice you don't say nothing against L. W. Now there was a man who had done me dirt—he sold me out, on the Gunsight—but when I trusted him and treated him white L. W. became my best friend. He stood right up with me against Andy McBain and that bunch of hired gun-fighters he had; and he'd lay down his life for me, to-morrow. And yet he just worships money! He thinks more of a dollar than I do of a million, but could Stoddard buy him out? Not on your life—he voted for the dividend! But where was my lady friend at?"
He glared at her insultingly and, torn by that great passion that comes from devotion misprized and sacrifice rewarded with scorn, she leapt up to hurl back the truth. But a vision rose before her, the picture of L. W. sobbing and bleeding, his arm flapping beside him, striving vainly to retrieve his treachery; and the words did not pass her lips.
"I'mnot your friend, if that's what you mean," she answered with withering scorn. "I'm against you, from this moment, on."
"Well, let it ride, then," he responded carelessly, and as she swept from the room, he smiled.
For the few brief weeks before the great trial the office was swarming with men. There were high-priced lawyers and geologists of renown and experts on every phase of the suit, and in the midst of them sat Rimrock Jones. He wore his big black hat that had cost him a hundred dollars—including the hat-check tips at the Waldorf—and his pistol was always at his hip. Every step of their case was carefully framed up in the long councils that took place, but at the end Rimrock lost his nerve. For the first time in his life, and with all eyes upon him, he weakened and lowered his proud head. He had a hunch he would lose.
For all those weeks he had been haunted by a presence that always flitted out of his way; but now she was there, in the crowded court-room, and she greeted him with a slow, mirthless smile. It was Mary Fortune and he remembered all too well that time when she had told him he would lose. She had said he would lose because he had no case, and because he used money instead; but he knew from that smile she had other reasons for pronouncing his doom in advance. He had lawyers hired who told him, to the contrary, that he had a very good case—and Stoddard had spent money, too. Not openly, of course, but through his attorneys; but that was customary, it was always done. No, behind all her professions of respect for the judiciary and of worship for the law, she must know that the right sometimes failed. But behind that smile there was the absolute certainty that in some way he was certain to lose.
He met her glance as he came into the court-room surrounded by a troop of his friends, surrounded by lawyers and mining experts and geologists who professed to see through the earth, and before her gaze he halted and blenched. There was another person there who regarded him coldly with a glance like a rapier thrust; but it was not of Stoddard he was afraid. It was of Mary Fortune, who had come out against him and who could hear through walls with her 'phone. What she knew might have helped him, but she was against him now—and she had told him in advance that he would lose.
As Rimrock sat thinking, his eyes cast down and his mind far back in the past, a great blow was struck by the bailiff's mallet and the crowd rose up to its feet. A stern-faced judge, robed in the black cloak of his office, stepped out through the curtains behind the bench and as Rimrock stared the bailiff beckoned him sharply and he scrambled to his feet with the rest.
"Oyez! Oyez! Oyez!" cried the bailiff in the words that echoed of the past. "The United States District Court is now in session!"
He struck again as the judge took his seat and Rimrock sank down into his chair. But he had stood in respect to the majesty of the law and it was then that his hunch came back. For this was no appeal to an elected judge or the easily swayed emotions of a jury; it was an appeal to the cold, passionless mind of a man who considered nothing but the law.
Ike Bray was there, looking pinched and scared, and the two guards who had witnessed his relocation, and they testified to the facts. In vain Rimrock's lawyers orated and thundered or artfully framed up their long questions; it took days to do it, but when the testimony was all in it was apparent that Ike Bray's claim would hold. But this was only the beginning of the battle, the skirmish to feel out the ground; and now the defense brought up its big guns. One after the other they put experts on the stand to testify to the geology of the Tecolote; but Cummins and Ford produced others as eminent who testified to the opposite effect. So the battle raged until the wearied judge limited the profitless discussion to one more day, and then Cummins and Ford launched their bombshell.
"Your Honor," began Cummins as he rose with a great document. "I should like to introduce as evidence this report, which unfortunately has only just come to hand. As Your Honor has intimated the testimony of hired experts is always open to suspicion of bias, and especially where great interests are at stake; but I am able to offer for the information of the Court a document both impartial and thorough. It is the combined reports of three practical geologists employed by the Tecolote Company itself, though at a time preceding this suit and intended solely for the purposes of exploration. As Your Honor will observe, although the reports were made independently and under orders to seek nothing but the facts, they agree substantially in this: that, within an extension of its end-lines, the Old Juan claim is the true apex of the entire Tecolote ore body."
He handed over the report and sat down in triumph, while Rimrock's lawyers all objected at once. The argument upon admitting to evidence this secret but authoritative report, consumed the greater part of the day; and at the end the plaintiff rested his case. Throughout the din of words, the verbal clashes, the long and wearisome citing of authorities and the brief "Overruled!" of the judge, Rimrock Jones sat sullen and downcast; and at the end he got up and went out. No one followed to cheer or console him—it was his confession of utter defeat. And the following day, when the Court convened, a verdict was rendered for the plaintiff. The lawyers and experts took their checks and departed and Rimrock Jones went home.
He went back to Gunsight where he had seen his greatest triumphs and his days of blackest defeat and waited for Stoddard to strike. It was all over now—all over but the details and the final acceptance of terms—and, while he waited, he packed up to go. No one knew better than Rimrock himself that it was right and fitting to move on. Old hatreds and animosities, old heart-burnings and recriminations, would make Gunsight a hell-spot for him, and thwart him at every move. It was best to go on to Mexico. Even Hassayamp and L. W. agreed in this, although L. W. insisted upon staking him and declared it was all his own fault. But Mary Fortune, whether she gloried in his fall or pitied him for his great loss, kept discreetly out of his way.
She faced him the first time at the special meeting when Stoddard came to lay down his terms. As a legal fiction, a technical subterfuge, he still claimed to have bought up Bray's claim; but no one was deceived as to his intent. If he had bought Bray out it was not for the Company, but for Whitney H. Stoddard personally; and with no intention of compromising. He came in briskly, his face stern and forbidding, his eyes burning with ill-suppressed fire; and he sat down impatiently to wait. Then as Rimrock slouched in and called the meeting to order Stoddard picked up a piece of blank paper and began to tear it into long, slender shreds.
"Well, to get down to business," said Rimrock at last after the various reports had been read, "we have come here, I take it, for a purpose."
He raised his eyes and met Stoddard's defiantly, but Mary looked away.
"Yes, we have," answered Stoddard with business-like directness, "I have a proposition to make. As I suppose you both know I have bought up the claim of Mr. Bray, as decided by the court. That claim, of course, practically invalidates your stock since it takes away possession of the mine; but I am willing to make you a generous offer. Our undivided profits—minus the amount, of course, that our General Manager has squandered on his defense—will be shared among us, pro rata. This will be in cash, and in consideration of the payment, I shall expect you to turn in your stock."
"What? For nothing?" cried Mary; but Rimrock did not flinch though his face became set with rage.
"It can hardly be called nothing," replied Stoddard severely, "when your own share comes to over two hundred thousand dollars. And as for Mr. Jones, he understands very well that I can claim every dollar he has."
"Well, that may be so, since you have a claim against him, but my stock is unencumbered. And since my share of the profits is in no sense a payment I shall decline to turn in my stock."
"Very well," answered Stoddard, his voice low and colorless, "I shall turn the matter over to my attorney and refuse to vote the dividend."
"Ah, I see," she murmured and glanced at Rimrock who answered with a curl of the lip.
"Mr. President," she said, "I move that the money at present in our treasury be set aside as a profit and divided among the stockholders pro rata."
"Just a moment!" warned Stoddard as Rimrock seemed about to fall in with her, "you can never collect that money. I have notified Mr. Lockhart, the treasurer of our Company, that I will hold him personally responsible for every dollar he pays out, without my official O.K. You understand what that means. Within less than a month, through my suit now in court, I can claim every share of Mr. Jones' stock. Its value, in law, has been reduced to nothing, outside of this undivided profit; and that I offer you now. If you refuse I shall get judgment, claim his entire share of the profits, and take possession of the whole Tecolote properties by right of the Old Juan decision. I advise you to accept my first offer."
"All right," spoke up Rimrock, "I knew you'd rob me. Write out the check and I'll be on my way."
"No, indeed!" cried Mary, "don't you let him fleece you! I've got something to say here, myself!"
"Well, say it to him, then," returned Rimrock, wearily, "I'm sick and disgusted with the whole business."
"Yes, naturally," observed Stoddard, reaching into his pocket and deliberately pulling out his checkbook. "Most people are, by the time I get through with them; and your case is no exception. You made the mistake of trying to oppose me."
"I made the mistake," returned Rimrock hoarsely, "of trusting a lot of crooks. But I never trusted you—don't you think it for a minute—you've got n. g. written all over you."
"Another remark like that," said Stoddard freezingly, "and I'll put my checkbook away."
"You do it," warned Rimrock without changing his position, "and I'll blow the top of your head off."
Stoddard looked at him keenly, then uncapped his pen and proceeded to fill out the stub. For a moment there was silence, broken by the soft scratching of the pen, and then Mary Fortune stood up.
"I know it is customary," she said in suppressed tones, "for men to settle everything themselves; but you, Mr. Stoddard, and you, Mr. Jones, are going to listen to me. I have put up long enough with your high-handed methods; but now, will you kindly look at that?"
She laid a paper on the table before Stoddard and stood back to watch the effect, but Rimrock only grunted contemptuously.
"Aw, fill out my check!" he said impatiently, but Stoddard was staring at the paper.
"Why, what is this? Where did you get this, Miss Fortune? I don't think I quite understand."
"No, naturally! You overlooked the fact that a woman can jump claims, too. That is a recorded copy of my re-location of the Old Juan claim, at twelve-fifty-one, on January first. Your drunken Ike Bray came along at one-thirty and tacked his notice over mine. And now I must thank you, gentlemen, both of you, for your kind efforts in my behalf. By spending your money on this expensive lawsuit you have proved my title to the Tecolote Mine."
She sat down, smiling, and as Stoddard looked again at the paper his drawn face went suddenly white. He laid it down and with startled eyes glanced fearfully at those two. Would they stand together? Did she realize her advantage? Could he buy her off—and for how much? A hundred swift questions flashed through his mind, and then Rimrock reached over for the notice. He gazed at it quietly and then, looking at Mary, he gave way to a cynical smile.
"Could you hear through a wall?" he enquired enigmatically, and Stoddard snapped his fingers in vexation.
"Ah, I see," he observed, "not so deaf as you seem. Well, Miss Fortune, may I see you alone?"
"You may not!" she answered. "I might show you some pity, though you don't deserve it; so, knowing Mr. Jones as I do, I will leave the decision to him."
She glanced at Rimrock with a quick, radiant smile that revealed more than she knew of her heart; but his face had suddenly gone grim.
"Take him out and kill him," he advised vindictively. "That's all the advice I'll give."
"No, I don't believe in that," she answered sweetly, "but perhaps our decision can wait."
"Well, you needn't wait for me," replied Rimrock ungraciously, "because I'm through, for good and all. The first man that gives me a check for my stock——"
Whitney Stoddard reached swiftly for his checkbook and pen, but she stopped him with a warning look.
"No, there'll be nothing like that," she answered firmly. "But I moved once that we declare a dividend."
"Second the motion," murmured Stoddard resignedly; and Rimrock, too, voted: "Ay!"
Then he rose up sullenly and gazed at them both with a savage, insulting glare.
"You can keep your old mine," he said to Mary. "I'm going to beat it to Mexico!"
He started for the door and they looked after him, startled, but at the doorway he stopped and turned back.
"Where do I get that check?" he asked and after a silence Mary answered:
"From Mr. Lockhart."
"Good!" he muttered and closed the door quietly, whereat Stoddard began instantly to talk. He might have talked a long time, or only a few moments; and then Mary began to hear.
"What's that?" she asked and Stoddard repeated what he considered a very generous offer.
"Mr. Stoddard," she cried with almost tearful vehemence, "there's only one condition on which I'll even think of giving you back your mine, and that is that Rimrock shall run it. Mr. Jepson must be fired, Mr. Jones must have full charge, and all this chicanery must stop; but if Rimrock goes away without taking his mine I'll—I'll make you wish he hadn't!"
She snatched up her papers and ran out of the room and Stoddard caught up the 'phone.
"Give me Mr. Lockhart!" he said. "Yes, Lockhart, the banker. Mr. Lockhart? This is Mr. Stoddard. If you pay Henry Jones a cent of that money I'll break you, so help me God. And listen! If you value your rating with Bradstreet, you make him apologize to that girl!"