Part 8 (1/2)
”What crazy fellow is that?” demanded Lawyer Savage, quickly.
”Why, thar's been a galoot around Tintacker ever since Spring opened. I dunno but he was thar in the winter--”
”Young man, or old?” interrupted Savage.
”Not much more'n a kid, my boys say.”
”You've never seen him?”
”No. But I believe he set the gra.s.s afire the other day, and made us a heap of trouble along Larruper Crick,” declared the ranchman.
The lawyer looked thoughtful. ”There was a young fellow here twice to look up the Tintacker properties. He came to see me the first time-that was more than a year ago. Said he had been left his father's share in the old Tintacker Mine and wanted to buy out the heirs of the other partner. I helped him get a statement of the record and the names of the other parties--”
”Oh, please, Mr. Savage, what was his name?” asked Ruth, quickly.
”I don't know what his name really _was_,” replied the lawyer, smiling.
”He called himself John c.o.x-might have been just a name he took for the time being. There wasn't any c.o.x ever had an interest in the Tintacker as far as I can find. But he probably had his own reasons for keeping his name to himself. Then he came back in the winter. I saw him on the street here. That's all I know about him.”
”Tenderfoot?” asked Hicks.
”Yes, and a nice spoken fellow. He made a personal inspection of the properties the first time he was here. That I know, for I found a guide for him, Ben Burgess. He stayed two weeks at the old camp, Ben said, and acted like he knew something about minerals.”
Mr. Savage had found the proper books and he discovered almost at once that there had been an entry made since he had last looked up the records of Tintacker a year or more before.
”That fellow did it!” exclaimed the lawyer. ”He must have found those other heirs and he's got possession of the entire Tintacker Mine holdings. Yes-sir! the records are as straight as a string. And the record was made last winter. That is what he came back here for. Now, young lady, what do you want to know about it all?”
”I want a copy, please, of the record just as it stands-the present owners.h.i.+p of the mine, I mean,” said Ruth. ”I want to send that to Uncle Jabez.”
”It is all held now in the name of John c.o.x. The original owners were two men named Symplex and Burbridge. It is Burbridge's heirs this fellow seems to have bought up. Now, he told me his father died and left his share of the Tintacker to him. That means that 'Symplex' was this young c.o.x's father. One, or the other of them didn't use his right name-eh?”
suggested the lawyer.
”But that doesn't invalidate the t.i.tle. It's straight enough now. The Tintacker Mine-whether it is worth ten cents or ten thousand dollars-belongs to somebody known as John c.o.x-somebody who can produce the deeds. You say your uncle bought into the mine and took personal notes with the mine for security, Miss?”
”That is the way I understand it,” Ruth replied.
”And it looks as though the young man used the money to buy out the other owners. That seems straight enough. Your uncle's security is all clear as far as the t.i.tle of the mine goes--”
”But according to what I know,” broke in Mr. Hicks, ”he might as well have a lien on a setting of hen's eggs as an interest in the Tintacker Mine.”
”That's about it,” admitted Mr. Savage. ”I don't believe the mine is worth the money it cost the young fellow to have these records made.”
”Well,” said Ruth, with a sigh; ”I'll pay you for making the copy, just the same; and I'll send it home to uncle. And, if you don't mind, Mr.
Savage, I'll send him your name and address, too. Perhaps he may want you to make some move in the matter of the Tintacker property.”
This was agreed upon, and the lawyer promised to have the papers ready to send East in two or three days. Then Mr. Hicks took Ruth to the hotel to dinner, and they started for the ranch again soon after that meal.
When they came in sight of the Crossing, Ruth saw that the little red painted schoolhouse was open. All the windows were flung wide and the door was ajar; and she could see Sally d.i.c.kson's brilliant hair, as well as other heads, flitting back and forth past the windows.