Part 16 (2/2)
”Yes, in a way. It was left to me conditionally.”
”You can let it out and sell the stumpage if you want to?”
”Of course.”
”Then, what are you kicking about?”
”I--simply on account of the fact that these men have no right to be on the land, or to use it in any way. I haven't given them permission.”
”That's funny,” the sheriff scratched his head; ”they've just proved in court that you have.”
”In court? I--?”
”Yeh. I've got an injunction in my pocket to prevent you from interfering with them. Judge Bardley gave it in Montview about an hour ago, and we came over by automobile.”
”But why?”
”Why?” the sheriff stared at him. ”When you give a man a lease, you have to live up to it in this country.”
”But I've given no one--”
”Oh, show it to him, sheriff.” Thayer came angrily forward. ”No use to let him stand there and lie.”
”That's what I want to see!” Houston squared himself grimly. ”If you've got a lease, or anything else, I want to look at it.”
”You know your own writing, don't you?” The sheriff was fis.h.i.+ng in his pockets.
”Of course.”
”You'd admit it if you saw it?”
”I'm not trying to hide anything. But I know that I've not given any lease, and I've not sold any stumpage and--”
”Then, what's this?” The sheriff had pulled two legal doc.u.ments from his pocket, and unfolding them, had shown Houston the bottom of each.
Barry's eyes opened wide.
”That's--that's my signature,” came at last.
”This one's the same, isn't it?” The second paper was shoved forward.
”Yes.”
”Then I don't see what you're kicking about. Do you know any one named Jenkins, who is a notary public?”
”He works in my office in Boston.”
”That's his writing, isn't it?”
”Yes.”
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