“I say, Jim, I’ve learned the truth at last about that superintendent of ours, damn him! You seemed so interested in old Cameron this morning, I thought you’d like to know that it has turned out that this Houston is his nephew.”
“Houston, old man Cameron’s nephew!” gasped Maverick, with a terrible oath, and growing fairly livid, “How’d ye get onto that?”
“No matter how, Jim, but it seems he’s been out here all summer getting onto some of our little business ways and reporting to the old man, and now he’s got the old fellow out here to see the fun. Never mind, Jim, I guess the fun will be on the other side after all. I’ll attend to my business and you’ll attend to yours, but I thought you’d go at it with a better relish after this little piece of news.”
Maverick passed on his way, regardless of the storm, incapable of coherent speech, muttering oaths and curses intermingled with the vilest epithets, Haight watching him with a grim smile for a few moments. Then going back to his office, he had but just reseated himself at his desk, when Morton Rutherford entered the outer room. “Damn him! what is he sneaking around here for?” Haight soliloquized, at the same time hastily transferring a revolver from his desk to his pocket, “I’ll spoil that mug of his if he attempts any funny business here.”
This movement was seen by Rutherford, who was watching him closely, but he appeared to take no notice of it and entered the office as usual, with a civil greeting to Haight. The latter sprang to his feet, taking his position close by the shaded window, his right hand grasping the revolver in his pocket.
Rutherford’s lips curled with scorn and contempt as he looked at Haight; he saw there could be no semblance of civility between them, it was to be open war.
“You are a coward!” he said.
“And you are a sneak,” Haight hissed in reply, “prying around here when you had better be minding your own business.”
“Let me tell you that I am attending to my own business, and you will find before you are much older, that I have more right here than you.”
For a moment Haight hesitated, astonished by Rutherford’s words and manner, then was about to make some reply, when the click of the instrument attracted his attention. Keeping his eye on Rutherford, he gave the answering signal with his left hand, then listened intently for the message. It came, containing the final orders and the farewell words of the Silver City office: