Part 43 (1/2)

”You have a mortgage on Rancher Waynefleet's holding in the Bush,”

said Acton. ”I understand you've had some trouble in getting what he owes you.”

The man nodded. ”That's certainly the case,” he said. ”I bought up quite a lot of land before I laid down the mill, but after I did that I let most of it go. In fact, I'm quite willing to let up on Waynefleet's holding, too. I can't get a dollar out of him.”

”Have you offered to sell the mortgage to anybody?”

”I saw Martial and the Charters people not long ago. They'd give about eighty cents on the dollar. Hutton said he'd make me a bid, but he didn't.”

”Well,” said Acton, ”my friend here wants that ranch for a particular purpose. He'd bid you ninety.”

”I can't do it. If the new roads that have been suggested are made, the ranch ought to bring me a little more. Still, I don't mind letting you in at what I gave for it.”

Acton looked at Nasmyth.

”Then,” said Acton, ”we'll call it a bargain. You can write me a note to that effect, and I'll send my clerk across with the papers presently.”

The man went out a few minutes later, and Acton rose.

”I'll charge you bank interest; but if you care to put the mortgage up for sale, you'll get your money back 'most any time after they start those roads,” Acton said to Nasmyth. ”Now we'll go along and call on Waynefleet.”

They went out with Hames, and a little while later came upon Waynefleet sitting on the veranda of a second-rate hotel. He was dressed immaculately, and with a cigar in his hand, lay in a big chair. He started when he saw them. Hames grinned, and sat down close in front of him.

”I'm going back on my bargain. I want my money and you can keep your land,” he said. ”The fact is Mr. Acton has got on my trail, and he's not the kind of man I have any use for fighting.”

There was consternation in Waynefleet's face, but he straightened himself with an effort.

”I suppose you have brought this man, Mr. Nasmyth, and I scarcely think it is quite what one would have expected from you--at least, until you had afforded me the opportunity of offering you an explanation,” he bl.u.s.tered.

”Can you offer me one that any sensible man would listen to?” Nasmyth asked sharply.

”He can't,” Acton broke in. ”We're out on business. You may as well make it clear that we understand the thing.”

Waynefleet turned and looked at Acton with lifted brows, and had he been less angry, Nasmyth could have laughed at his att.i.tude.

Waynefleet's air of supercilious resentment was inimitable.

”You have some interest in this affair?” he inquired.

”Oh, yes,” answered Acton cheerfully. ”Still, you needn't worry about me. All you have to do is to hand this man over the money and record the new sale. We don't want any unpleasantness, but it has to be done.”

Waynefleet appeared to recognize that there was no remedy.

”In that case there is the difficulty that I can't quite raise the amount paid,” he said. ”Travelling and my stay in the city have cost me something.”

”How much are you short?”

”About a hundred dollars.”

”Then,” replied Acton, ”I'll take a bill for the money. We'll go along and record the sale as soon as Mr. Nasmyth's ready. I expect he has something to say to you.”