'Firebrand' Trevison
Rosalind Benham. He fought off the bitter resentment that filled him and
raised his head, laughing, glossing over the hurt with savage humor.
"Well, I'm doing some good in the world, after all."
"Trev," Hester moved toward him again, "don't talk like that--it makes me
shiver. I've been through the fire, boy--we've both been through it. I
wasted myself on Harvey--you'll do the same with Rosalind Benham. Ten
years, boy--think of it! I've loved you for that long. Doesn't that make
you understand--"
"There's nothing quite so dead as a love that a man doesn't want to
revive," he said shortly; "do you understand that?"
She shuddered and paled, and a long silence came between them. The cold
dawn that was creeping over the land stole into the office with them and
found the fires of affection turned to the ashes of unwelcome memory. The
woman seemed to realize at last, for she gave a little shiver and looked
up at Trevison with a wan smile.
"I--I think I understand, Trev. Oh, I am _so_ sorry! But I am not going
away. I am going to stay in Manti, to be near you--if you want me. And you
will want me, some day." She went close to him. "Won't you kiss me--once,
Trev? For the sake of old times?"
"You'd better go," he said gruffly, turning his head. And then, as she
opened the door and stood upon the threshold, he stepped after her,
saying: "I'll get your horse."
"There's two of them," she laughed tremulously. "I came in a buckboard."
"Two, then," he said soberly as he followed her out. "And say--" He
turned, flushing. "You came at dusk, last night. I'm afraid I haven't been
exactly thoughtful. Wait--I'll rustle up something to eat."
"I--I couldn't touch it, thank you. Trev--" She started toward him
impulsively, but he turned his back grimly and went toward the corral.
Sunrise found Hester back at the Bar B. Jealous, hurt eyes had watched
from an upstairs window the approach of the buckboard--had watched the
Diamond K trail the greater part of the night. For, knowing of the absence
of women at the Diamond K, Rosalind had anticipated Hester's return the
previous evening--for the distance that separated the two ranches was not
more than two miles. But the girl's vigil had been unrewarded until now.
And when at last she saw the buckboard coming, scorn and rage, furious and
deep, seized her. Ah, it was bold, brazen, disgraceful!
But she forced herself to calmness as she went down stairs to greet her
guest--for there might have been some excuse for the lapse of
propriety--some accident--something, anything.
"I expected you last night," she said as she met Hester at the door. "You
were delayed I presume. Has anything happened?"
"Nothing, dearie." Only the bold significance of Hester's smile hid its
deliberate maliciousness. "Trev was so glad to see me that he simply
wouldn't let me go. And it was daylight before we realized it."
The girl gasped. And now, looking at the woman, she saw what Trevison had
seen--staring back at her, naked and repulsive. She shuddered, and her
face whitened.
"There are hotels at Manti, Mrs. Harvey," she said coldly.
"Oh, very well!" The woman did not change her smile. "I shall be very glad
to take advantage of your kind invitation. For Trev tells me that
presently there will be much bitterness between your crowd and himself,
and I am certain that he wouldn't want me to stay here. If you will kindly
have a man bring my trunks--"
And so she rode toward Manti. Not until the varying undulations of the
land hid her from view of the Bar B ranchhouse did she lose the malicious
smile. Then it faded, and furious sobs of disappointment shook her.
CHAPTER XVIII
LAW INVOKED AND DEFIED
As soon as the deputies had gone, two of them nursing injured heads, and
all exhibiting numerous bruises, Judge Lindman rose and dressed. In the
ghostly light preceding the dawn he went to the safe, his fingers
trembling so that he made difficult work with the combination. He got a
record from out of the safe, pulled out the bottom drawer, of a series
filled with legal documents and miscellaneous articles, laid the record
book on the floor and shoved the drawer in over it. An hour later he was
facing Corrigan, who on getting a report of the incident from one of the
deputies, had hurried to get the Judge's version. The Judge had had time
to regain his composure, though he was still slightly pale and nervous.
The Judge lied glibly. He had seen no one in the courthouse. His first
knowledge that anyone had been there had come when he had heard the voice
of one, of the deputies, calling to him. And then all he had seen was a
shadowy figure that had leaped and struck. After that there had been some
shooting. And then the men had escaped.
"No one spoke?"
"Not a word," said the Judge. "That is, of course, no one but the man who
called to me."
"Did they take anything?"
"What is there to take? There is nothing of value."
"Gieger says one of them was working at the safe. What's in there?"
"Some books and papers and supplies--nothing of value. That they tried to
get into the safe would seem to indicate that they thought there was money
there--Manti has many strangers who would not hesitate at robbery."
"They didn't get into the safe, then?"
"I haven't looked inside--nothing seems to be disturbed, as it would were
the men safe-blowers. In their hurry to get away it would seem, if they
had come to get into the safe, they would have left something
behind--tools, or something of that character."
"Let's have a look at the safe. Open it!" Corrigan seemed to be
suspicious, and with a pulse of trepidation, the Judge knelt and worked
the combination. When the door came open Corrigan dropped on his knees in
front of it and began to pull out the contents, scattering them in his
eagerness. He stood up after a time, scowling, his face flushed. He turned
on the Judge, grasped him by the shoulders, his fingers gripping so hard
that the Judge winced.
"Look here, Lindman," he said. "Those men were not ordinary robbers.
Experienced men would know better than to crack a safe in a courthouse
when there's a bank right next door. I've an idea that it was some of
Trevison's work. You've done or said something that's given him the notion
that you've got the original record. Have you?"
"I swear I have said nothing," declared the Judge.
Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and then released him. "You
burned it, eh?"
The Judge nodded, and Corrigan compressed his lips. "I suppose it's all
right, but I can't help wishing that I had been here to watch the ceremony
of burning that record. I'd feel a damn sight more secure. But understand
this: If you double-cross me in any detail of this game, you'll never go
to the penitentiary for what Benham knows about you--I'll choke the
gizzard out of you!" He took a turn around the room, stopping at last in
front of the Judge.
"Now we'll talk business. I want you to issue an order permitting me to
erect mining machinery on Trevison's land. We need coal here."
"Graney gave notice of appeal," protested the Judge.
"Which the Circuit Court denied."
"He'll go to Washington," persisted the Judge, gulping. "I can't legally
do it."
Corrigan laughed. "Appoint a receiver to operate the mine, pending the
Supreme Court decision. Appoint Braman. Graney has no case, anyway. There
is no record or deed."
"There is no need of haste," Lindman cautioned; "you can't get mining
machinery here for some time yet."
Corrigan laughed, dragging the Judge to a window, from which he pointed
out some flat-cars standing on a siding, loaded with lumber, machinery,
corrugated iron, shutes, cables, trucks, "T" rails, and other articles
that the Judge did not recognize.
The Judge exclaimed in astonishment. Corrigan grunted.
"I ordered that stuff six weeks ago, in anticipation of my victory in your
court. You can see how I trusted in your honesty and perspicacity. I'll
have it on the ground tomorrow--some of it today. Of course I want to
proceed legally, and in order to do that I'll have to have the court order
this morning. You do whatever is necessary."
At daylight he was in the laborers' camp, skirting the railroad at the
edge of town, looking for Carson. He found the big Irishman in one of the
larger tent-houses, talking with the cook, who was preparing breakfast
amid a smother of smoke and the strong mingled odors of frying bacon and
coffee. Corrigan went only to the flap of the tent, motioning Carson
outside.
Walking away from the tent toward some small frame buildings down the
track, Corrigan said:
"There are several carloads of material there," pointing to the flat-cars
which he had shown to the Judge. "I've hired a mining man to superintend
the erection of that stuff--it's mining machinery and material for
buildings. I want you to place as many of your men as you can spare at the
disposal of the engineer; his name's Pickand, and you'll find him at the
cars at eight o'clock. I'll have some more laborers sent over from the
dam. Give him as many men as he wants; go with him yourself, if he wants
you."
"What are ye goin' to mine?"
"Coal."
"Where?"
"I've been looking over the land with Pickand; he says we'll sink a shaft
at the base of the butte below the mesa, where you are laying tracks now.
We won't have to go far, Pickand says. There's coal--thick veins of
it--running back into the wall of the butte."
"All right, sir," said Carson. But he scratched his head in perplexity,
eyeing Corrigan sidelong. "Ye woudn't be sayin' that ye'll be diggin' for
coal on the railroad's right av way, wud ye?"
"No!" snapped Corrigan.
"Thin it will be on Trevison's land. Have ye bargained wid him for it?"
"No! Look here, Carson. Mind your own business and do as you're told!"
"I'm elicted, I s'pose; but it's a job I ain't admirin' to do. If ye've
got half the sinse I give ye credit for havin', ye'll be lettin' that mon
Trevison alone--I'd a lot sooner smoke a segar in that shed av dynamite
than to cross him!"
Corrigan smiled and turned to look in the direction in which the Irishman
was pointing. A small, flat-roofed frame building, sheathed with
corrugated iron, met his view. Crude signs, large enough to be read
hundreds of feet distant, were affixed to the walls:
"CAUTION. DYNAMITE."
"Do you keep much of it there?"
"Enough for anny blastin' we have to do. There's plenty--half a ton,
mebbe."
"Who's got the key?"
"Meself."
Corrigan returned to town, breakfasted, mounted a horse and rode out to
the dam, where he gave orders for some laborers to be sent to Carson. At
nine o'clock he was back in Manti talking with Pickand, and watching the
dinky engine as it pulled the loaded flat-cars westward over the tracks.
He left Pickand and went to his office in the bank building, where he
conferred with some men regarding various buildings and improvements in
contemplation, and shortly after ten, glancing out of a window, he saw a
buckboard stop in front of the _Castle_ hotel. Corrigan waited a little,
then closed his desk and walked across the street. Shortly he confronted
Hester Harvey in her room. He saw from her downcast manner that she had
failed. His face darkened.
"Wouldn't work, eh? What did he say?"
The woman was hunched down in her chair, still wearing the cloak that she
had worn in Trevison's office; the collar still up, the front thrown open.
Her hair was disheveled; dark lines were under her eyes; she glared at
Corrigan in an abandon of savage dejection.
"He turned me down--cold." Her laugh held the bitterness of self-derision.
"I'm through, there, Jeff."
"Hell!" cursed the man. She looked at him, her lips curving with amused
contempt.