"McVicker and Ord! They're a couple of mutton-heads. Why, Bray has got Cummins and Ford. I know they're good, because they beat me out of the Gunsight; but they're nothing to the men I've retained. I've telegraphed money to ten attorneys already—the best in the United States, so Ben Birchett, my Geronimo lawyer, says—and they'll be here within a few days. It'll be a galaxy of the finest legal talent that ever took a case in Arizona. Ben told me frankly when I called him up Long Distance that we've got a very weak case; but you wait, they'll frame something up. We're fighting Stoddard, there isn't a doubt about it; but we're spending his money, too."
He met her gaze with a disarming grin and the reproaches died on her lips. After all, it was his right, after what he had suffered, to have this one, final fling. He was nothing but a child, a great overgrown boy, and it was fitting he should have his jest. And between him and Stoddard, the ice-cold lightning-calculator who kept count of every cent, there was really little to choose. Only Rimrock, of course, was human. He was a drunken and faithless gambler; a reckless, fighting animal; a crude, thoughtless barbarian; but his failings were those of a man. He didn't take advantage of everybody—it was only his enemies that he raided.
"Yes, you're spending his money," she conceded pleasantly, "but part of it is yours and—mine."
"Well, all right, then," he said after a moment's thought, "I'll show you where it's gone."
"No, I didn't mean that," she said, "my point is, don't throw it away. If we lose this suit, and I think we will, you'll need something to make a fresh start."
"Nope, it's dead loss to me, whichever way you figure it—if I don't spend it, it goes to Stoddard. He won't have any mercy on me, even if we win this case. My stock is gone when the ninety days are up. The most I can hope is to beat him on this suit. That will make my Tecolote stock more valuable and maybe I can borrow the money to pay off the debt at the bank. But I'm busted, right now; I can see my finish. It's just a question of the epitaph the boys will put over my grave, and I want that to be: 'He did his damnedest!' Then I'll get out of town with whatever I have left and begin all over again, down in Mexico."
"Oh, won't that be fine!" she cried enthusiastically, but Rimrock looked at her dubiously.
"What, to lose all my money?"
"No, to begin all over again. To get away from this trickery and dishonesty and the jealousy that spoils all your friends; and start all over again, get back to real work and build up another success!"
"You sure make it sound attractive," he answered glumly, "but there are some people who hate to lose. That's me—but cheer up, I haven't lost yet. You wait till I hire a few expert geologists and I'll prove that the Old Juan doesn't apex anything. No, absolutely nothing; not even the ore that's under it. I've got a couple of them coming, now."