Part 1 (2/2)
But, having fought for his country and not for a career, as soon as the rebellion had finished, this citizen soldier had resigned, and until 1868 had been one of the division engineers of the Union Pacific Railway. On the completion of that great road, he had found himself at Ogden, and had devoted himself to mining in Utah.
Altogether, he looks like a man who could win a woman's heart and take very good care of it; though, perhaps his appearance would hardly please one of the strong-minded sisterhood, for there is an indication of command and domination in his manner, doubtless arising from his military experience.
As the two gentlemen discuss their supper, their conversation first turns on business; though, from Lawrence's remarks it is apparent there is a conflicting interest in his mind, that of the young lady whom he has just seen down-stairs.
”You don't think that _milliard_ going to the Germans will affect the sale of the Mineral Hill Mine,” asks Harry, earnestly, opening the conversation.
”Not at all,” replies the lawyer. ”No fluctuation in funds can affect the capital the English company is about to invest, and has already deposited in the bank for that purpose.”
”Then what more do they want? The mine has already been reported upon favorably by their experts and engineers.”
”They insist, however, upon a t.i.tle without contest,” returns Southmead.
”Why, you yourself have stated that our t.i.tle to the Mineral Hill was without flaw,” interjects the young man hastily.
”Certainly,” answers the lawyer; ”but not without _contest_. I have to-day received a letter from Utah, stating that there is apt to be litigation in regard to your property. If so, it must certainly delay its sale.”
”Oh, I know what you mean,” cries Harry, a determined expression coming into his eyes. ”It is those infernal Mormons! When we made the locations in Tintic, there was not a stake driven in the District, but now word has been given out by Father Brigham to his followers that as it is impossible to stop the entry of Gentiles into Utah for the purpose of mining, the Latter-Day Saints had best claim all the mines they can under prior locations and get these properties for themselves, as far as possible. Consequently, a Mormon company has been started, who have put in a claim of prior location to a portion of one of our mines, without any more right to it than I have to this restaurant. And what do you think the beggars call themselves? Why, Zion's Co-operative Mining Company.” Here he laughs a little bitterly and continues: ”It was Zion's Co-operative Commercial Inst.i.tutions, and now it is Zion's Co-operative Mining Companies. Those fellows drag in the Lord to help them in every iniquitous scheme for despoiling the Gentile.”
”All the same,” replies the lawyer, ”if you wish to make the sale of your property to the English company that I represent, you had better compromise the matter with them. I sharn't permit my clients to buy a lawsuit.”
”Compromise? Never!” answers the other impulsively. Then he goes on more contemplatively: ”And yet I wish to make the sale more than ever. You see, the price we name for the property is an honest one. It is worth every dollar of the five hundred thousand we ask for it.”
”Then, why not work it yourself?” asks the lawyer.
”Simply because I have got tired of living the life of a barbarian--surrounded by barbarians. It was well enough to spend four years of early manhood in camps and battles, three others in building a big railroad, and three more in the excitement of mining, away from the _convenances_ and graces of life that only come with the presence of refined women; but now I am tired of it, more so than ever since I have seen that young lady down-stairs.”
”Ah! still going back to Miss Travenion?” laughs the lawyer.
”You know her name then?” cries the captain, suddenly.
”Yes,” says the other. ”I happened to be impatient for your coming. The evening was sultry. I walked out of the room, looked down the stairs and saw your act of gallantry.”
”Ah, since you know her name, you must know her!”
”Quite well; I am her trustee.”
”Her trustee!” cries Harry Lawrence impulsively. ”Her guardian? You will introduce me to her? This is luck,” and before the old gentleman can interrupt him, the Westerner has seized his hand and given it a squeeze which he remembers for some five minutes.
”I said her trustee; not her guardian,” answers the lawyer cautiously.
”If, as your manner rather indicates, you have designs upon the young lady's heart, you had better get a reply from her father.”
”Her father is living then?”
”Certainly. Last January you could have seen him any afternoon in the windows of the Unity Club looking at the ladies promenading on the Avenue, just as he used to do when he lived here, and was a man about town, and club _habitue_ and heavy swell. Ralph Travenion has gone West again, however, but I have not heard of his death.”
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