SIGNED BY WILLIAM THORNTON
When Byers spoke Dodson looked hurriedly at his watch.
Hugh was the first to speak. “Who told you?”
“Jim Flynn. He hustled right down from Bald Knob.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“No. Our boys threw up their hands. Jumpers had the drop on ’em.”
“Flynn know any of the gunmen?”
“Sloan was one,” answered Byers.
McClintock turned to Dodson. “Do you pay yore gun-fighters by the job or by the day?” he asked contemptuously.
“I don’t answer questions put that way, McClintock,” said Dodson stiffly. “Your manner is an insult, sir.”
“It’s an insult if these roughs are not being paid by you. Can you tell me that they’re not?” demanded Hugh, eyes cold as the steel-gray waters of Lake Tahoe on a wintry morning.
“I’ll tell you nothing under compulsion, sir.”
“Which means that I’m right. You and yore brother are back of this outrage. You think you can get away with our property by wholesale bribery. I should think you’d know the men you’re fightin’ better than that.”
“We ask for nothing that’s not ours. We don’t intend to let ourselves be bulldozed out of anything that is.” The dark colour flashed into the cheeks of Dodson. His anger, envenomed by months of repression, boiled out of him as red-hot lava from a crater. “I’ll show you McClintocks whether you run this state. If it takes every cent I’ve got in the world I’ll ruin you both. To hear and see you a man would think you were in partnership with God Almighty. You’ve got folks buffaloed. But not me—not me!” He slammed his fist down hard on the table so that the lamp jumped.
He whirled and strode from the room in a fury.
“War, looks like,” said Hugh, turning with a smile to his friends.
“I never knew him to lose his temper before,” said Vicky. “You spoke pretty straight to him. Do you think that was wise?”
“Why not? He’s been our enemy for a long time. Might as well bring him into the open.”
“He knew the claims were going to be jumped, you think?”
“Yes, but his machine slipped a cog. D’you see him look at his watch when Dan told us? He knew what was on the programme, but it took place earlier in the evenin’ than he had arranged for. That’s how I figure it out, anyhow.”
“What are we going to do about it?” asked Vicky.
She knew that the history of the Nevada and California mining camps was full of tragedies due to disputes over mining locations. Claim jumping was not infrequent, and in a good many cases the jumpers finally won the day. Usually the stronger characters won, regardless of the justice of the case.
“We’re going to get our claims back,” Hugh replied.
Byers nodded. He was as decided on that point as his partner. The only question was in what way.
Sheriff Budd, greatly excited, waddled in; Mrs. Budd was hard on his heels.
“Hell’s hinges, boys!” he broke out. “Have you-all heard what them scalawags have done pulled off?”
“I been expectin’ it,” Mrs. Budd announced calmly. She was a woman impossible to surprise. She made a good wife and mother, but there were moments when Jim wished she wouldn’t say “I told you so” quite as often as she did.
“Then I hope you’re expectin’ us to re-jump ’em, Mrs. Budd,” Hugh said with a grin.
They discussed ways and means. If possible, they meant to get back their property without bloodshed.
“If this was Sloan’s play all we’d have to do would be to throw him out. But there’s brains back of this move. We’re dealin’ with Ralph Dodson. If we gain possession we still have the courts to reckon with. So we’ve got to move carefully and see we don’t blunder into any mistake,” Hugh said.
“You’re shoutin’, Kid,” the sheriff agreed. “It wouldn’t he’p us a whole lot to go up to the Supreme Court with two-three killings on the record against our title.”
They slept on their problem and discussed it again next day. Hugh sent to Virginia City for Scot and a good lawyer. There were more conferences. Out of them came one or two decisions. Scot, Hugh, and their lawyer called at the office of the Katie Brackett and asked to see Ralph Dodson. He was out, but his brother Robert was in. At first he refused to meet them, but his visitors were so insistent that they would not take no for an answer.
Dodson had them admitted to his office. Sloan sat beside him. Another gunman was in the room. From the yellow-gray eyes of the mine owner a furtive look slid round at the McClintocks and their lawyer.
“Now, looky here, Browning,” he said irritably to the lawyer, “there’s no manner o’ use in you pesterin’ me. See Ralph. He’ll talk turkey with you. I got nothin’ to do with this.”
“All we want is to see the paper you and Singlefoot Bill signed up. We’re entitled to see it. You’ve jumped the Ground Hog and other claims owned by my group of clients. We’d like to look over your title. Of course we’re all anxious to avoid trouble. The only way to do that is to let us know where you stand.”
Dodson listened sourly. But he was not a fool. He knew Browning could get a court order to look at the paper. There was no real objection to it, and when one is playing an underhanded game it is better to give an impression of bluff frankness.
“You’ll gimme yore word not to keep the paper nor to injure it—you or yore clients either?”
“Of course. This is business, not highway robbery.”
Dodson shot a slant look of warning at Sloan and went to the safe. He returned with a sheet of foolscap paper upon which had been written an agreement by which William Thornton, known as Singlefoot Bill, relinquished all rights in certain designated patented mining claims on Bald Knob to Robert and Ralph Dodson in consideration of three thousand dollars now paid him in hand.
Browning copied the paper exactly, word for word, and comma for comma. Meanwhile, Sloan, his gun in his hand, watched him and the McClintocks every second of the time. Both brothers looked the contract over.
The lawyer pushed the paper back to Dodson. “Much obliged. Of course it’s not worth the price of the ink on it, but you probably won’t be satisfied of that till the courts have said so.”
“You can bet yore boots we make it good,” retorted Dodson, his dodging eyes jumping to the men he hated so bitterly.
The three callers left the office. From the time they had entered it till the time they left, the McClintocks had not said a word except in asides to their lawyer.
“I don’t know on how solid a foundation their case rests,” Browning said as they walked along Turkey Creek Avenue. “But it never does to underestimate your opponents. First, we’ll check up and try to learn if the claims ever were patented. Then we’ve got to find out all about that contract, the circumstances under which it was signed, whether there was any record of it made at Austin. We ought to be able to discover if old Singlefoot showed any evidence of having money immediately after it was signed. Think I’ll go to Austin and make some investigations.”
“Yes, let’s get to the bottom of it,” Scot agreed. “It looks fishy to me that they’d pay Singlefoot three thousand for claims not worth a cent then.”
“Especially when he had no valid title and all they had to do was to relocate them,” added Hugh.
“Not like the Dodson way of doing business,” admitted Browning. “I don’t know where the nigger in the woodpile is, but he’s there somewhere.”
“Think you’d better go to Austin with Mr. Browning, Scot,” Hugh said. “You have so many friends there you might be able to find out something important.”
Scot dropped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Want to cut me out of the fun here, do you? Couldn’t think of leaving yet. But I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll join Browning at Austin soon as we’ve taken the next trick.”
“Which is——?”
“To get possession of the Ground Hog and the other claims.”
“You ought not to figure in that, Scot,” the younger brother protested. “You’re a public character now. You’ve got to look at the future. Politically——”
“I’ve got to live with myself a few years, Hugh. How would I feel if I ducked out and left you to handle this job? No, I’ll go through. It’s up to us to use some strategy so as to get our properties back without killing anybody. That’s what our brains are for.”
Hugh did not push his point. He knew when he was beaten.
“I’ve been millin’ over an idea that might work out,” he said.
“What is it?”
“I haven’t got it quite worked out yet. In an hour or two maybe I’ll unload it from my mind.”
As soon as Browning had left them he sketched his plan to Scot.
Colonel McClintock’s eyes began to shine. “Ought to work out fine, if the valley lies as you say. Let’s go right to it to-night.”
“To-night suits me,” said Hugh. “But we’ll have to hustle the arrangements.”
They spent a busy day.