The Son of his Father

Oh yes, Gordon would interview him. Gordon would deal with him. Gordon would love it above all things. Was he given a free hand?

But Mallinsbee smiled into the fiery eyes of the young giant and shook his head, while Hazel looked on at the brewing storm with inscrutable eyes of amusement.

"There's no free hand for anybody in this thing, Gordon, boy," said Mallinsbee slowly. "And I don't guess there's any crematoriums or undertakers' corporation around Snake's Fall. Anyway, Hip-Lee wouldn't do a thing if you asked him to bury a white man."

"White man?" snorted Gordon furiously.

"Remember you're – fighting for my daddy as well as yourself, Mr. Van Henslaer," said Hazel earnestly.

Gordon sighed.

"I'll remember," he said. And his two friends knew that the matter was safe in his hands.

Left alone in his office, Gordon endured an unpleasant hour after his dinner. It was not the thoughts of his coming interview that disturbed him. It was Hazel. It was of her he was always thinking, when not actually engaged upon any duty. Every day made his thoughts harder to bear.

For awhile he sat before his desk, leaning back in his chair, gazing blankly at the wooden wall opposite him. She was always the same to him; his worst fits of temper seemed to make no difference. She only smiled and humored or chided him as though he were some big, wayward child. Then the next moment she would ride off with this vermin Slosson, full of merry sallies and smiling graciousness, whom, he knew, if she had any right feeling at all, she must loathe and despise. Well, if she did loathe him, she had a curious way of showing it.

He thrust his chair back with an angry movement, and walked off into the bedroom opening out of the office. He looked in. The neatness of it, the scent of fresh air pouring in through its open window, meant nothing to him. He saw none of the work of the guiding hand which, in preparing it, had provided for his comfort. Hip-Lee kept it clean and made his bed, the same as he cooked his food. It did not occur to Gordon to whom Hip-Lee was responsible.

There were pictures on the walls, and it never occurred to Gordon that these had been taken from Hazel's own bedroom at the ranch – for his enjoyment. Nor was he aware that the shaving-glass and table had been specially purchased by Hazel for his comfort. There were a dozen and one little comforts, none of which he realized had been added to the room since it had been set aside for his use.

He flung himself upon the bed, all regardless of the lace pillow-sham which had once had a place on Hazel's own bed. He was in that frame of mind when he only wanted to get through the hours before Hazel's sunny presence again returned to the office. He was angry with her. He was ready to think, did think, the hardest thoughts of her; but he longed, stupidly, foolishly longed for her return, although he knew that, with her return, fresh evidence of Slosson's attentions to her and of her acceptance of them would be forthcoming.

He was only allowed another ten minutes in which to enjoy his moody misery. At the end of that time he heard the rattle of wheels beyond the veranda, and sprang from his couch with the battle light shining in his eyes.

But disappointment awaited him. It was not Slosson who presented himself. It was the altogether cheerful face of Peter McSwain which appeared at the doorway.

"Say," he cried. Then he paused and glanced rapidly round the room. "Ain't Mallinsbee around?" he demanded eagerly.

Gordon shook his head.

"Business?" he inquired. "If it's business I'm right here to attend to it."

Peter hesitated.

"I s'pose you'd call it business," he said, after a considering pause, during which he took careful stock of Mallinsbee's representative. Then he went on, with a suggestion of doubt in his tone, "You deal with his business – confidential?"

Gordon smiled in spite of his recent bitterness. He moved over to his desk and sat down, at the same time indicating the chair opposite him. As soon as McSwain had taken his seat Gordon leaned forward, gazing straight into the man's always hot-looking face.

"See here, Mr. McSwain, we're at a deadlock for the moment, as maybe you know. Later it'll straighten itself out. I can speak plainly to you, because you're a friend of Mr. Mallinsbee, and you're interested with us in this deal. I'm here to represent Mr. Mallinsbee in everything, even to dealing with the railroad people, so anything you've got to say, why, just go ahead. For practical purposes you are talking to Mr. Mallinsbee."

The disturbed Peter sighed his relief.

"I'm glad, because what I've got to say won't keep. If you folks don't get a cinch on that dago-lookin' Slosson feller the game's up. He's askin' options up at Snake's. He's not buyin' the land yet, just lookin' for options. Maybe you know I got two plots on Main Street, besides my hotel. Well, he's made a bid for options on 'em for two months. He says other folks are goin' to accept his offer. There's Mike Callahan, the livery man. Slosson's been gettin' at him, too. Mike come along and told me, and asked what he should do. I guessed I'd run out and see Mallinsbee. If ther' ain't anything doin' here at Buffalo, why, it's up to us to accept."

The man mopped his forehead with a gorgeous handkerchief. His eyes were troubled and anxious. He felt he would rather have dealt with Mallinsbee. This youngster didn't look smart enough to deal with the situation.

Gordon was tapping the desk with a penholder. He was thinking very hard. He knew that the definite movement had come at last, and that it was adverse to their interests. This was the reply to Mallinsbee's resolve. For the moment the matter seemed overwhelming. There seemed to be no counter-move for them to make. Then quite suddenly he detected a sign of weakness in it.

"Say," he demanded at last, "why does the man want options? I take it options are to safeguard him in case he wants to buy. This thing looks better than I thought. He's guessing he may quarrel with us. He's thinking maybe we won't come to terms. He's worrying that the news of that will get around, and that, in consequence, up will go prices in Snake's. That'll mean the railroad 'll have to pay through the nose, and he'll get into trouble if they have to buy up there. You see, the bedrock of this layout is – this place has to boom anyway, and they've got to get in either here or at Snake's."

Peter rubbed his hands. His opinion of Gordon began to undergo revision.

"Then what are we to do?" The anxiety in his eyes was lessening.

Gordon sprang from his seat, and brought one hand down on his desk with a slam.

"Do? Why, let him go to hell. Refuse him any option," he cried fiercely. "Here, I'll tell you what you do. And do it right away. How do you stand with the folks up there?"

"Good. They mostly listen when I talk," said Peter, with some pride.

"Fine!" cried Gordon. "We'll roast him some. See here, I know you're holding with us. I know Mike is, and several others. Your interests are far and away bigger here than in Snake's. So you'll get busy right away. You'll get all the boys together who've got interests here. Tell 'em we've fallen out over the railroad deal with Slosson. Tell 'em to get the town together, and then let 'em explain about this rupture. I'll guarantee the rupture's complete. Make 'em refuse all options and boost their prices for definite sale, and threaten to raise 'em sky-high unless the railroad make a quick deal. Put a fancy figure on your land at which he daren't buy. You get that? Now I'll show you how we'll stand. He's got to come in on this place then. He'll have to buy at our price, because —the railroad must get in. You must play the town folks who've got land there, but none here, to force the prices up on the strength of our quarrel with the railroad, and I'll guarantee that quarrel's complete this afternoon. Well?"

The last vestige of Peter's worry had disappeared. His eyes shone admiringly as he gazed at the smiling face of the man who had conceived so unscrupulous a scheme. He nodded.

"The railroad's got to get in," he agreed. "If they can't get in here they've got to there. Offer him boom prices there, and if he closes – which he daren't– we make our bits, anyway. If he don't, then he's got to buy here on your terms, and – the depot comes here, and the boom with it. Say, it's bright. An' you'll guarantee that scrap up?"

"Sure."

Peter sprang to his feet.

"That's Mallinsbee's – word?"

"Absolutely."

The man's hot face became suddenly hotter, and his eyes shone.

"I'll get right back and we'll hold a meetin' to-night. Say, we've got to fool those who ain't got interests here – they ain't more than fifty per cent. – and then we'll send prices sky-high. You can bet on it, Mr. Van Henslaer, sir. All it's up to you to do is to turn him down and drive him our way. We'll drive him back to you. It's elegant."

Gordon gave a final promise as they shook hands when Peter had mounted his buggy. Then the hotel proprietor drove off in high glee.

Gordon went back to his office without any sensation of satisfaction. He had committed Mallinsbee to a definite policy that might easily fall foul of that individual's ideas. But he had committed him, and meant to carry the thing through against all opposition.

The cue had been too obvious for him to neglect. It was Slosson who had made a false move. He was temporizing, instead of acting on a fighting policy, and it was pretty obvious to him that his temporizing was due to his growing regard for Hazel. The man was mad to ask for options. He was a fool – a perfect idiot. No, the opportunity had been too good to miss. If Slosson had shown weakness, he did not intend to do so. Then, as he sat down and further probed the situation, a real genuine sensation of satisfaction did occur. There would no longer be any necessity for Hazel to attempt to play the man.

All in a moment he saw the whole thing, and a wild delight and excitement surged through him. He was in the heart of a youngster's paradise once more. The sun streaming in through the window was one great blaze of heavenly light. The world was fair and joyous, and, for himself, he was living in a palace of delight.

It was in such mood that he heard the approach of David Slosson.

The agent entered the office with all the arrogance of a detestable victor. His first words set Gordon's spine bristling, although his welcoming smile was amiability itself.

Slosson glanced round the room, and, discovering only Gordon, flung himself into Mallinsbee's chair and delivered himself of his orders.

"Say, you best have your darned Chinaman take my horse around back an' feed him hay. Where's Mallinsbee?"

Gordon assumed an almost deferential air, but ignored the order for the horse's care.

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Mallinsbee won't be around this afternoon. He's going up in the hills on a shoot," he lied shamelessly. "Maybe for a week or two. Maybe only days."

"What in thunder? Say, was he here this morning? I sent word I was coming along."

Slosson's black eyes had narrowed angrily, and his pasty features were shaded with the pink of rising temper.

Gordon's eyes expressed simple surprise.

"Sure, he was here. Your note got along 'bout eleven. He guessed he couldn't stop around for you. You see, a few caribou have been seen within twenty miles of the ranch. They don't wait around for business appointments."

Slosson brought one fist down on the arm of his chair, and in a burst of anger almost shouted at the deferential Gordon.

"Caribou?" he exploded. "What in thunder is he chasin' caribou for when there's things to be settled once and for all that won't keep? Caribou? The man's crazy. Does he think I'm going to wait around while he gets chasin' – caribou?"

Gordon maintained a perfect equanimity, but he wanted to laugh badly. He felt he could afford to laugh.

"There's no need to 'wait around,'" he deferred blandly. "I am here to act for Mr. Mallinsbee – absolutely. The entire affairs of the township are in my hands, and I have his definite instructions how to proceed. If you have any proposition to make I am prepared to deal with it."

For all his apparent deference a note had crept into Gordon's tone which caught the suspicious ears of the railroad agent. He peered sharply into the blue eyes of the man across the desk.

"You have absolute power to deal in Mallinsbee's interest?" he questioned harshly.

"In Mr. Mallinsbee's interests," assented Gordon.

"Wal, what's his proposition?" The man's mustached upper lip was slightly lifted and he showed his teeth.

"Precisely what it was when he first explained it to you."

The deference had gone out of Gordon's voice. Then, after the briefest of smiling pauses, he added —

"That is in so far as the railroad is concerned. For your own personal consideration his offer of sites to you remains the same as regards price, but the selection of position will be made by – us."

Gordon was enjoying himself enormously. He had taken the law into his own hands, and intended to put things through in his own way. He expected an outburst, but none was forthcoming. David Slosson was beginning to understand. He was taking the measure of this man. He was taking other measures – the measure of the whole situation. Of a sudden he realized that he was being told, in his own pet phraseology, to – go to hell. He had consigned many people in that direction during his life, but somehow his own consignment was quite a different matter, especially through the present channel.

He pulled himself up in his chair and squared his shoulders truculently.

"I guess Mallinsbee knows what this means – for him?" he inquired sharply, but coldly.

"I fancy Mr. Mallinsbee does."

"Now, see here, Mister – I ferget your name," Slosson cried, with sudden heat. "I'm not the man to be played around with. If this is your Mister Mallinsbee's final offer, it just means that the railroad can't do business with him. Which means also that his whole wild-cat land scheme falls flat, and is so much waste ground, only fit for grazing his rotten cattle on. I'm not here to mince words – "

"No," concurred Gordon in a steady, cold tone.

"I said I'm not here to mince words. If I can't get my original terms there's nothing doing, and I'll even promise, seeing we're alone, to get right out of my way to sew up this concern, lock, stock and barrel."

"That seems to be the obvious thing to do from your point of view – if you can," said Gordon calmly. "Seeing that Mr. Mallinsbee is nearly as rich as a railroad corporation, there may be difficulties. Anyway, threats aren't business talk, and generally display weakness. So, if you've no business to talk, if you don't feel like coming in on our terms – why, that's the door, and I guess your horse is still waiting for that hay you seemed to think just now he needed."

Gordon picked up a pen and proceeded deliberately to start writing a letter. He felt that David Slosson had something to digest, and needed time. All he feared now was that Mallinsbee or Hazel might come in before he rid the place of this precious representative of the railroad.

After a few moments he glanced up from his letter.

"Still here?" he remarked, with upraised brows.

In a moment Slosson started from the brown study into which he had fallen and leaped to his feet. His narrow black eyes were blazing. His pasty features were ghastly with fury, and Gordon, gazing up at him, found himself wondering how it came that the hot summer sun of the prairie was powerless to change its hue.

The agent thrust out one clenched fist threateningly, and fairly shouted at the man behind the desk —

"I'll make you all pay for this – Mallinsbee as well as you. You think you can play me – me! You think you can play the railroad I represent! I'll show you just what your bluff is worth. You, a miserable crowd of land pirates! I tell you your land isn't worth grazing price without our depot. And I promise you I'll break the whole concern – "

"Meanwhile," said Gordon, deliberately rising from his seat and moving round his desk, "try that doorway, before I – break you. There it is." He pointed. "Hustle!"

There comes a moment when the wildest temper reaches its limits. And even the most furious will pause at the brick wall of possible physical violence. David Slosson had spat out all his venom, or as much of it as seemed politic. The threatening attitude of Gordon, his monumental size and obvious strength, his cold determination, all convinced him that further debate was useless. So he drew back at the "brick wall" and negotiated the doorway as quickly as possible.

Two minutes later Gordon sighed in a great relief, and passed a hand across his perspiring forehead. Slosson had passed out of view as Mallinsbee, on the back of the great Sunset, appeared on the horizon.

"That was a close call," he muttered. "Two minutes more and the old man might have spoiled the whole scheme."

Silas Mallinsbee's personality seemed to crowd the little office when, five minutes later, he entered to find Gordon busy at his desk writing a letter home to his mother.

Gordon displayed no sign of his recent encounter when he looked up. His ingenuous face was smiling, and his blue eyes were full of an obvious satisfaction. Mallinsbee read the signs and rumbled out an inquiry.

"Slosson been around?"

Gordon nodded.

"Sure."

"Fixed anything?"

"Quite a – lot."

"You're lookin' kind of – happy?"

"Guess that's more than – Slosson was."

Mallinsbee's eyes became quite serious.

"I told Hazel just now I'd get along back. You see, I kind of remembered you just weren't sweet on Slosson, and guessed after all I'd best be around when he came. Hazel thought it might be as well, too. Specially as she didn't want to sit around and find no Slosson turn up. So – "

Gordon was on his feet in an instant. All his smile had vanished. A look of real alarm had taken its place.

"She was waiting for that skunk? Where?" he demanded in a tone that suddenly filled the father with genuine alarm.

"He was to go on to the coalpits after he was through here, and she was to meet him there an' ride over to the young horse corrals where they been breaking. She was to let him see the boys doin' a bit o' broncho bustin'. What's – "

"The coalpits? That's the way he took. Say, for God's sake stay right here – and let me use Sunset. I – "

But Gordon did not wait to finish what he had to say. He was out of the house and had leaped into the saddle before Mallinsbee could attempt to protest. The next moment he was galloping straight across country in the direction of the Bude and Sideley's Coal Company's workings.

CHAPTER XIII

SLOSSON SNATCHES AT OPPORTUNITY

Gordon had taken David Slosson's measure perfectly, notwithstanding his own comparative inexperience of the world. Apart from the agent's business methods, he had seen through the man himself with regard to Hazel. Hence, now his most serious alarm. The memory of those lascivious eyes gazing after Hazel in the Main Street of Snake's Fall, on his first day in the town, had never left him, and though he had listened to Hazel's positive assurance of her own safety in dealing with the man a subtle fear had continually haunted him. This was quite apart from his own jealous feelings. It was utterly unprejudiced by them. He knew that sooner or later, unless a miracle happened, Hazel would become the victim of insult. Deep down in his heart, somewhere, far underneath his passionate jealousy, he knew that Hazel was only encouraging Slosson that she might help on their common ends, but he had always doubted her cleverness to carry such a matter through successfully. To his mind there could only be one end to it all, and that end – insult.

Now the thing was almost a certainty. With Slosson in his present mood anything might happen. So he pressed Sunset to a rattling gallop. If Slosson insulted her – ? But he was not in the mood to think – only to act.

That his fears were well enough founded was pretty obvious. David Slosson, as he hurried away from Mallinsbee's office, knew that he had played the game of his own advantage and – lost. This sort of thing had not often happened, and on those rare occasions on which it had happened he had so contrived that those who had caused him a reverse paid fairly dearly in the end. He was one of those men who believed that if a man only squeezed hard enough blood could be contrived from a stone. Against every successful offensive of the enemy there was nearly always a way of "getting back."

That he could "get back" on the commercial side of the present affair he possessed not the smallest doubt. He would "recommend" to his company that the present depot at Snake's Fall, with certain enlargements, and the private line to be built by the Bude and Sideley Coal people, were all that was sufficient to serve the public, and, through his judicious purchase of sites in the old township, a far more profitable enterprise for them than the new township could offer. Personally, he would have to sacrifice his own interests. But since Mallinsbee and his cub of an office boy would be badly "stung," the matter would not be without satisfaction to his revengeful nature. Then there was that other matter – and he moistened his thin lips as he contemplated it.

In spite of all Gordon's lack of faith in Hazel's efforts, they had not been without effect. Slosson had been flattered. His vanity had seen conquest in Hazel's readiness to accept his company. It had been obvious to him from the first that the manner in which he had displayed his "nerve" before her at the ranch pleased her more than a little. After all, she was a mere country girl – a "rube" girl.

Nor was it likely that she would be difficult now. She was pretty, pretty as a picture. Her figure appealed to his sensual nature. She didn't know a thing – outside her ranch. Well, he could teach her. Especially now. Oh, yes, it was all very opportune. He would teach her all he knew. He laughed. He would teach her for – her father's sake. And – yes, for the sake of that young cub of a man that had ordered him out of the office.

What was his name – "Van Henslaer"? Yes, that was it. A "square-head," he supposed. The country was full of these American-speaking German "square-heads." Then quite suddenly he began to laugh. For the first time since he came to Snake's Fall the thought occurred to him that possibly this fellow was in love with Hazel himself. He had been so busy prosecuting his own attentions to her himself that he had never considered the possibility of another man being in the running. The thought inspired an even more pleasant sensation. It threw a new light upon Van Henslaer's attitude. Well, there was not much doubt as to who was the favored man. The fellow's very attitude suggested his failure.

Slosson felt he was going to reap better than had seemed at first. He would ruin Mallinsbee's schemes and satisfy his company at a slight personal loss to himself. He would complete his triumph over the individual in Mallinsbee's office. First of all, through Mallinsbee's failure in the land scheme, by robbing him of a position, and secondly, through robbing him of all chance of success with the girl. It was not too bad a retort. He would have made it harsher if he could, but, for a start, it would have to do. Later, of course, since he would see a great deal of Snake's Fall and his power in the place would increase, he would extend operations against his enemies.

Hazel must be his – his entirely. To that he had made up his mind. She was much too desirable to be "running loose," he told himself. Marriage was out of the question, unless he wished to commit bigamy; a pleasantry at which he laughed silently. Anyway, if it were possible, it would not have suited him. Marriage would have robbed him of the right to break up her father's land scheme. No, marriage was – Well, he was married – to his lasting regret.

Hazel was very attractive; very. He could quite understand a man making a fool of himself over her. He had once made a fool of himself, and in consequence marriage was very cheap from his point of view. He regarded women now as lawful prey. And apart from Hazel's attractiveness, which was very, very seductive, it would be a pretty piece of getting back on her father and that other. He laughed again. It was quaint. The prettier a woman the greater the fool she was.