The banker shriveled under his look.
“Your sentiments do you vast credit,” observed Baca suavely. “I concur most heartily. But, my good fellow, why bawl your remarks?” He accompanied the query with a pleasant smile.
Scanlon raised his head to watch. The ranchman’s fingers worked and quivered; for a moment it seemed as though he would leap on his tormentor; but he settled back.
“I’m with you,” said Scanlon.
Then, noting that Beck did not commit himself to this self-denying ordinance, he filled a glass with wine and, as he drank it, observed his partner narrowly from the tail of his eye.
“You may rest easy, Mr. Quinliven,” observed Baca, straddling with his back to the fire and his hands to the blaze. “There will be no need for you to carry out your chivalrous intention. I assure you that while I live I am perfectly capable of selecting a jury that will hang Mr. Bennett without the disastrous concomitant you mention; and I shall take great pleasure in doing so should need arise. I should hate to see you hanged, Quinliven—I should indeed! You distress me! But I fear——” He left the sentence unfinished, shaking his head sorrowfully. “Mr. Bennett, I am sure, will bear himself to conform with our wishes. However, I find myself in full accord with Mr. Bennett in the matter of the moneys now in the hands of Messrs. Beck and Scanlon, and wrongfully withheld from our little pool.”
“That will be a-plenty,” said Beck. “For fear of mistakes I will now declare myself. We admit that we have a bundle of the Drake money and we announce that we are going to keep it. How much, is nobody’s business but our own. In consideration of that fact, however, the two of us lay claim to only one full share of the Drake deposit. That gives us twelve thousand; Bennett as much; the Honorable Prosecuting Attorney the same; the Double Dee brand to Quinliven. That’s final!”
“I suppose you know, Mr. Beck,” said Baca, cupping his chin, “your little joint can be closed any time I lift a finger?”
“Baca,” said Scanlon with level eyes, “you’ll close nawthin’! We bought protection from you. We’ll get what we bought. When you feel any doubts comin’ on, don’t talk to Beck about it. Talk to me! And,” he added with venomous intensity, “one more word about any divvy on our poker roll and that pass book goes to Ducky Drake!” He tapped his breast. “I’ve got the pass book—not Beck.”
“Well, well,” said Baca indulgently, “have your own way. Far be it from me to question any gentleman’s ultimatum, and so, perhaps, bring a discordant note into our charming evening. Let us pass on to the next subject. Is everybody happy? No! Mr. Bennett is not happy. Mr. Bennett is a very able man, as we all know—exemplar to the young—a rich man, merchant prince, and all that. And yet we can quite understand that he may be temporarily embarrassed for actual cash. I, for one, am willing to allow him a reasonable time. He cannot hide his real estate; so we shall be taking no risks. Doubtless we can stand off young Drake for the price of his cattle by giving him good security.”