Part 17 (1/2)
”I know you often get fussed, Rivers, about what you term my _using_ you in business, but I swear to you that in the end you'll think different about that. I've got to work under cover myself to a certain extent. I'm not my own master. But this I can say--I'm willing to be a part of a big thing. When the public _is_ taken into our confidence, we'll all feel repaid. Can you--do you catch on, Larry?”
”It's like catching on to something in the dark,” Larry muttered.
”Well, that's something,” Maclin said cheerfully. ”Something to hold to in the dark isn't to be sneered at.”
”Depends upon what it is!” Apparently Larry was in a difficult mood.
Maclin tried a new course.
”It's one thing having a friend in the dark, old man, and another having an enemy. I suppose that's what you mean. Well, have I been much of an enemy to you?”
”I just told you what I think about that.” Larry misinterpreted Maclin's manner and took advantage.
”Larry, I'm going to give you something to chew on because I _am_ your friend and because I want you to trust me, even in the dark. The fellow Northrup----”
Larry started as if an electric spark had touched him. Maclin appeared not to notice.
”--is on our tracks, but he mustn't suspect that we have sensed it.”
The words were ill-chosen. Having any one on his tracks was a significant phrase that left an ugly fear in Larry's mind.
”What tracks?” he asked suspiciously.
”Our inventions.” Maclin showed no nervous dread. ”These inventions, big as they are, old man, are devilish simple. That's why we have to lie low. Any really keen chap with the right slant could steal them from under our noses. That's why I like to get foreigners in here--these Dutchies don't smell around. Give them work to do, and they do it and ask no questions; the others snoop. Now this Northrup is here for a purpose.”
”You know that for a fact, Maclin?”
”Sure, I know it.” Maclin was a man who believed in holding all the cards and discarding at his leisure; he always played a slow game. ”I know his kind, but I'm going to let him hang himself. Now see here, Rivers, you better take me into your confidence--I may be able to fix you up. What's wrong between you and your wife?”
This plunge sent Larry to the wall. When a slow man does make a drive, he does deadly work.
”Well, then”--Larry looked sullen--”I've left the house and mean to stay out until Mary-Clare comes to her senses!”
”All right, old man. I rather smelled this out. I only wanted to make sure. It's this Northrup, eh? Now, Rivers, I could send you off on a trip but it would be the same old story. I hate to kick you when you're down, but I will say this, your wife doesn't look like one mourning without hope when you're away, and with this Northrup chap on the spot, needing entertainment while he works his game, I'm thinking you better stay right where you are! You can, maybe, untie the knot, old chap. Give her and this Northrup all the chance they want, and if you leave 'em alone, I guess the Forest will smoke 'em out.”
Maclin came nearer to being jubilant than Rivers had ever seen him.
The sight was heartening, but still something in Larry tempered his enthusiasm. He had been able, in the past, to exclude Mary-Clare from the inner sanctuary of Maclin's private ideals, and he hated now to betray her into his clutches. Maclin was devilishly keen under that slow, sluggish manner of his and he hastened, now, to say:
”Don't get a wrong slant on me, old man. I'm only aiming for the good of us all, not the undoing. I want to show this fellow Northrup up to your wife as well as to others. Then she'll know her friends from her foes. Naturally a woman feels flattered by attentions from a man like this stranger, but if she sees how he's taken the Heathcotes in and how he's used her while he was boring underground, she'll flare up and know the meaning of real friends. Some women have to be _shown_!”
By this time Larry suspected that much had gone on during his absence that Maclin had not confided to him. He was thoroughly aroused.
”Now see here, Rivers!” Maclin drew his chair closer and laid his hand on Larry's arm--he gloated over the trouble in the eyes holding his with dumb questioning. ”It's coming out all right. We're in early and we've got the best seats--only keep them guessing; guessing! Larry, your wife goes--down to the Point a lot--goes missionarying, you know.
Well, this Northrup is tramping around in the woods skirting the Point.”
Just here Larry started and looked as if something definite had come to him. Had he not seen Northrup that very day in the woods?
”Now there's an empty shack on the Point, Rivers--some old squatter has died. I want you to get that shack somehow or another. It ought to be easy, since they say your wife owns the place; it's your business to _get_ it and then watch out and keep your mouth shut. You've got to live somewhere while you can't live decent at home. 'Tisn't likely your wife, having slammed the door of her home on you, will oust you from that hovel on the Point--your being there will work both ways--she won't dare to take a step.”
Larry drew a sigh, a heavy one, and began to understand. He saw more than Maclin could see.