McCLINTOCK READS TENNYSON
Miss Lowell, schoolmarm, sat in the parlour of her boarding house and corrected spelling papers. Across the lamplit table from her was Hugh McClintock. He was browsing through a volume of poems written by the man who had been for two decades and still was the world’s most popular philosopher of progress. The book was Vicky’s, and she handed it to him with a word of youth’s extravagant praise.
“I think he’s the greatest poet that ever lived.”
Hugh smiled. “He’ll have to step some.” He mentioned Shakespeare and others.
But Vicky flamed with the enthusiasm of a convert. “It’s not only the music of his words. It’s what he says. He shakes the dead bones so. If you haven’t read ‘In Memoriam’ you must.”
“I’ve read it.”
“Did you ever read anything so—so inspiring?”
“It’s great. Remember that Flower-in-the-crannied-wall piece. I don’t recollect how it goes exactly, but he pulls it out by the roots an’ talks at it. Says if we knew what it was and how it had come we’d know what God and man are. I reckon that’s right. He sure set me thinking.”
“I love him.” The girl’s face was aglow in the lamplight. “He’s just wonderful, that’s all.”
It is difficult now to understand the tremendous influence of Tennyson among all the English-speaking peoples fifty years ago. Before Darwin was accepted and even before he had published, the Victorian poet was pointing the way with prophetic vision. He was the apostle of the new age, of the intellectual freedom that was to transform the world. His voice penetrated to the farthest corners of Australia and America. The eager and noble minds of youth turned everywhere to him for guidance.
To-night, however, Hugh was nibbling at verse less profound. He was reading “The Gardener’s Daughter.” A descriptive phrase flashed at him:
A certain miracle of symmetry,
A miniature of loveliness, all grace
Summed up and closed in little.
Involuntarily his glance swept to the dusky head on the other side of the table. Her shining-eyed ardour seemed to him the flowering of all young delight. Another verse leaped out at him from the page:
. . . those eyes
Darker than darkest pansies, and that hair
More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
He turned the pages abruptly and began “The Charge of the Light Brigade.” It would never do for him to get sentimental.
Mrs. Budd opened the door and pushed her head into the room. “Mr. Ralph Dodson’s here an’ would like to see you—on business,” she announced.
“To see me?” asked Hugh.
“No. Miss Lowell.”
“I wonder what about,” murmured that young woman, putting down the paper she was marking.
“He didn’t say.”
“Well, I don’t care to see him.”
“Hadn’t you better?” suggested Hugh. “If he’s got something up his sleeve we might as well know what it is.”
“All right. He can come in.”
Hugh rose to go, but she made a little gesture that asked him to stay. “If you don’t mind,” she said, smiling at him.
“Not a bit. He probably knows I’m here, anyhow.”
Dodson bowed to Vicky, more stiffly to McClintock. The man from Virginia City just acknowledged his greeting.
“If you’ve come to see me about my claim, Mr. Dodson, you can speak before Mr. McClintock. He’s my business adviser,” Vicky said.
The big mine owner was ever so slightly taken aback. “My business is rather private,” he said.
“Do you mean that it is a secret?”
“Oh, no. I have an offer to make you. But first I ought to preface it with a statement of fact,” he said formally. “Your title to the claim you’ve been working isn’t good, I’m afraid.”
“Why isn’t it?” she asked sharply.
“A prior interest in it was held by Singlefoot Bill, an old prospector who located on Bald Knob and worked all over it.”
“He did no work on my claim to speak of. When I began my assessment work there wasn’t a hole two feet deep on the location.”
He smiled. “That will be a matter for the courts to determine, I suppose.”
“The courts. What do you mean?” she snapped. “This old prospector never did any real digging on my claim. He’s dead, anyhow. Who is there to make trouble?”
“Nobody will make you trouble, I’m sure, Miss Lowell,” said Dodson with a suave smile. “My brother and I will be pleased to sign over the claim to you.”
“Sign it over to me? What have you got to do with it?”
“We own it. We own practically all the Bald Knob group of mines.”
Hugh spoke for the first time. “News to me, Mr. Dodson. When did you get ’em?”
“Almost two years ago. We bought out Singlefoot Bill.”
“Who didn’t own ’em.”
“We think he did. The courts will probably have to pass on the title.”
“He never patented them. How could he, when he had done no work to speak of on them?”
“We’ll prove he did, Mr. McClintock,” purred Dodson. “He seems to have done all that was required.”
“How can you claim that? He hardly stuck a pick in any of the claims that are being worked by us or our friends.”
“I think we’ll be able to furnish evidence to show that he did,” Dodson answered smoothly.
“I don’t doubt that,” retorted McClintock. “You could get witnesses to swear that you are Napoleon Bonaparte. But it’s too raw. You can’t put it over.”
Dodson smiled a thin-lipped smile. “No need to discuss that now. Fortunately Nevada has courts above reproach.”
“It’s plain robbery,” Victoria said indignantly.
“Attempted robbery,” amended Hugh. “It won’t succeed.”
“I’m not here to bandy names. What I came to say is that my brother and I want to do justice, Miss Lowell. You’ve been spending money on the claim you thought was yours. We intend to relinquish it to you.”
“I won’t take it,” the girl answered hotly, her cheeks stained with high colour. “I’ll stand or fall with my friends. You can’t buy me off.”
“If you look at it that way, of course there’s nothing more to be said,” replied Dodson with dignity. “I’m sorry. I’ll say good-evening, Miss Lowell.”
“Just a moment, sir.” Hugh’s voice was like the sound of steel on steel. “What’s this about a warrant for my arrest?”
Dodson looked at him, eye to eye. “Well, what about it?”
“I killed Sam Dutch in self-defence. The coroner’s jury was satisfied.”
“Then so am I. I’m told this warrant charges conspiracy to kidnap and kidnapping.”
Dodson turned contemptuously to the door. At the same instant it opened and Byers stepped into the room. His glance travelled from Dodson to McClintock.
“They’ve jumped our claims,” he said quietly.