Part 10 (1/2)
Macdonald looked his man Friday over with a scarcely veiled contempt.
”You have a beautiful, childlike faith in every man's dishonesty, Wally.
Did it ever occur to you that some people are straight--that they won't sell out?”
”All he gets is a beggarly two thousand or so a year. We can fix him all right.”
”You've about as much vision as a breed trader. Unless I miss my guess Elliot isn't that kind. He'll go through to a finish. What I'd like to know is how his mind works. If he sees straight we're all right, but if he is a narrow conservation fanatic he might go ahead and queer the whole game.”
”You wouldn't stand for that.” The quick glance of Selfridge asked a question.
The lips of the Scotchman were like steel traps and his eyes points of steel. ”We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. Our first move is to try to win him to see this thing our way. I'll have a casual talk with him before he leaves for Kamatlah and feel him out.”
”What's he doing here at all? If he's investigating the Kamatlah claims, why does he go hundreds of miles out of his way to come in to Kusiak?”
asked Selfridge.
Macdonald smiled sardonically. ”He's doing this job right. Elliot as good as told me that he's on the job to look up my record thoroughly. So he comes to Kusiak first. In a few days he'll leave for Kamatlah. That's where you come in, Wally.”
”How do you mean?”
”You're going to start for Kamatlah to-morrow. You'll arrange the stage before he gets there--see all the men and the foremen. Line them up so they'll come through with the proper talk. If you have any doubts about whether you can trust some one, don't take any chances. Fire him out of the camp. Offer Elliot the company hospitality. Load him down with favors. Take him everywhere. Show him everything. But don't let him get any proofs that the claims are being worked under the same management.”
”But he'll suspect it.”
”You can't help his suspicions. Don't let him get proof. Cover all the tracks that show company control.”
”I can fix that,” he said. ”But what about Holt? The old man won't do a thing but tell all he knows, and a lot more that he suspects. You know how bitter he is--and crazy. He ought to be locked away with the flitter-mice.”
”You mustn't let Elliot meet Holt.”
”How the deuce can I help it? No chance to keep them apart in that little hole. It can't be done.”
”Can't it?”
Something in the quiet voice rang a bell of alarm in the timid heart of Selfridge.
”You mean--”
”A man who works for me as my lieutenant must have nerve, Wally. Have you got it? Will you take orders and go through with them?”
His hard eyes searched the face of the plump little man. This was a job he would have liked to do himself, but he could not get away just now.
Selfridge was the only man about him he could trust with it.
Wally nodded. His lips were dry and parched. ”Go to it. What am I to do?”
”Get Holt out of the way while Elliot is at Kamatlah.”
”But, Good Lord, I can't keep the man tied up a month,” protested the leading tenor of Kusiak.
”It isn't doing Holt any good to sit tight clamped to that claim of his!
He needs a change. Besides, I want him away so that we can contest his claim. Run him up into the hills. Or send him across to Siberia on a whaler. Or, better still, have him arrested for insanity and send him to Nome. I'll get Judge Landor to hold him a while.”