Part 31 (2/2)
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 t.i.tle 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 b.u.t.te, 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 pa.s.s 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!”
CHAPTER XXVI
A CHAPTER OF HATE
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 amus.e.m.e.nts, 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 amus.e.m.e.nt he smiled.
”Examining the books,” he answered grimly. ”Say, how much money have we got?”
”Oh, don't look there!” she said, pus.h.i.+ng 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 c.u.mmins 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.
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