Part 4 (2/2)

”Yes, I remember your telling me about her being in the hospital.”

Harper's voice softened a bit.

Marvin was silent a moment. ”I took her to San Francisco. She died there.”

Harper fumbled with the buckle of his belt. His heart went out to the younger man; yet he felt that right was on his side. He picked up a picture of Mrs. Marvin that stood in a small frame on the table. ”I'm deeply sorry,” he said, softly. ”I did not know.”

”There is no need to apologize,” Marvin answered, quietly. ”You have a perfect right to demand an explanation about that timber.” With a last swallow of coffee, he put down his cup and stood squarely facing Harper, and his own expression was grim as he continued:

”When we got to San Francisco--mother and I--a lawyer in whose office I had been a student came to the hospital and got into her good graces. He had taken a great interest in me and I would have taken an oath as to his integrity. But when I came up here to sell you the timber--and mother and I needed the money desperately at the time--this man took advantage of my absence to persuade mother to deed him fifty acres, nearly the whole of the property! It was to be a pleasant surprise for me when I returned! Instead of cash, he gave her a batch of stock in the Golden Gate Land Company, stock of which I have been unable to dispose.

And the next day he resold the property to the Pacific Railroad Company for three or four times the price represented by the stock he gave mother. I found that out later, of course. Well, after mother's death I hurried up here, only to discover that you had not cut the timber I sold you _before_ the property was sold. I got busy at once and have been staying on here until the gang out there finished cutting it and piling it on what is left to me of the property. Your timber is ready for you, Mr. Harper, any time you are ready to haul it away.”

It was Harper's turn to put out his hand. ”I'm mighty sorry I misunderstood you, Marvin!” he exclaimed, as the latter returned the clasp. ”But look here! Can't you do anything about this fellow, this lawyer? What's the rascal's name?”

”Raymond Thomas. He's up in these parts quite frequently of late. Made himself solid with some dear friends of mine, I'm sorry to say, and I'm worried about it. I can't help believing that he's up to some new game, though I can't just see what it is. He's a remarkably smooth customer.

It's very hard to pin anything on him. I'm going to make him disgorge my property if I can, but I shall have a difficult legal fight on my hands.”

Harper nodded understandingly. ”I see, I see--covered himself cleverly.

I don't know the gentleman, but I'll be only too glad to do anything to help you, Marvin.” He took a turn about the room, while Marvin leaned against the table. ”I'll have the timber hauled away at once. I didn't have it cut, myself, because--well, I've had a lot of trouble myself.

Had a strike at the mill, and--oh, hang it all! It's my wife, Marvin!

She's packed up in a hurry and left me!”

He flung himself into the chair and stared ruefully, comically, at the younger man, who, not knowing what to say, said nothing.

”I didn't mind the strike so much, nor this timber mix-up!” Harper rushed on, with the air of a man who must tell some one or explode. ”It was my wife, young man! It's her being so unreasonable that makes me sore. I bought her a present when I was East and had it s.h.i.+pped to the office. It happened to arrive about the time Mrs. Harper was to come to the office in the machine to take me home, and she walked in just as I was showing it to my stenographer. Of course my wife thought I bought it for Miss Robbins, and--well, what's the use of talking about it?”

With a gesture of dismissal for the subject, he stood up and took out a wallet.

”How much do I owe you?” he asked. ”I figured it would cost about eight hundred dollars to do that job out there--”

Marvin put up a deprecatory hand. ”I can't take it now, Mr. Harper,” he interrupted. ”You haven't got that timber yet, and--”

”The railroad will have some job on its hands to get it away from me!”

said Harper. ”And unless they do I owe you eight hundred dollars--do you understand?”

A faint noise outside broke into their conversation. With a warning gesture, Marvin tiptoed to the door and put his ear against it. Harper, thinking that it might be a railroad employee who had come to eavesdrop in order to report their plans, stood with his jaw set, his hand on the revolver at his belt. With a quick movement Marvin jerked open the door.

Instead of a railroad employee, or the sheriff, it was only Lightnin'

Bill Jones who stood there, leaning idly against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets. He ambled silently into the middle of the room, his half-shut eyes blinking in the sudden light.

”I guess I must 'a' been out there some time, come to think of it,” he remarked, meditatively, and addressing himself to the ceiling, quite as if he were alone. Then he turned carelessly to Marvin.

”I knocked, too--but I guess maybe you wasn't expectin' me.”

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