Scott Burton in the Blue Ridge

by Edward G. Cheyney

“That’s what I told him,” the boy said, as he looked at Scott for the first time. And he seemed very much relieved. He hopped out of the gate and whistled all the way to the store.

Scott waited anxiously for the result of his message. He did not have to wait so long this time. Foster’s angry roar when he heard the boy’s message reached Scott at the hotel, and the next minute Foster lunged out of the door. Three men followed him out on to the store porch, but they stopped there and watched him clamber on to his big white horse. Another small group gathered in front of the Morgan store to see the show.

It was not over seventy yards from the store to the hotel and it would have been easier for Foster to walk, but he was not used to walking and he felt that he would be more impressive on his horse. He started from the store at a gallop but before he had covered the short distance he had slowed down to a walk. He drew up at the gate and scowled at Scott fiercely.

“When I tell people to come to me they come,” he blustered. He knew when he said it that it was the wrong thing to say but he could not help it.

Scott looked at him calmly. “It must be very convenient to have them so well trained,” he remarked.

“You will be trained, too, before I am through with you,” Foster blustered. “That’s what I came for.”

“Then maybe you better come in and have a seat, for it will probably take some time.” Scott pushed forward a chair and smiled at him tauntingly.

Foster hesitated. He felt that he was decidedly getting the worst of it and he was uncertain just how to proceed. He might force him down to the store at the point of his rifle, but he was a coward at heart and he feared the consequences. He slowly dismounted and swaggered up to the porch with all the braggadocio he could muster. Scott rose to meet him. Foster climbed the two steps to the porch and glared down at Scott from his superior height.

“I want to know what you mean by not giving us that logging contract?” he blustered fiercely.

“Won’t you be seated?” Scott said quietly, as he offered him a chair.