“I am not threatening. I am simply standing up for my rights as a citizen under the law.”
“Wal, I ain't here to argue law nor nothin' else with yeh. I've had you brought up here so's I can talk straight business with you. You've had a pretty tart lesson, but I hope you've learned somethin' by it. I've showed ye that a railro'd can't be built over Gideon Ward's property till he says the word. An' he'll never say the word. Ye're licked. Own up to it, now ain't ye?” Ward's voice was mighty with a conqueror's confidence.
“Not by any means. You have simply incurred the penalty of being sent to state prison. And while you're there I'll be building that railroad.”
Fury fairly streamed from Ward's eyes. He choked, grasped at his throat, writhed as if he were strangling, and stamped his foot until the camp shook. At last he recovered his voice.
“I'll pay ye for that! Now see here!” He jammed a paper into Parker's hands. “Sign that docyment, there an' now. Sign it an' swear ye'll stick by your agreement; 'cause if ye go back on it, may the Lord have mercy on your soul, for Gid Ward never will!”
Parker glanced at the crudely drawn agreement. It bound him as agent for his principals to withdraw all material from the Po-quette Carry, and abandon his railroad undertaking. It furthermore promised that he would make no complaint on account of damages to property or himself—admitting that he had been guilty of trespass.
Parker indignantly held the paper toward the colonel. The latter refused to take it.
“Sign it!” he roared. “Sign it, or you'll take your medicine!”
“Do you think I am a fool, Colonel Ward? Or are you one? I cannot bind my principals in any such manner. Furthermore, a signature obtained under duress is of no value in court. I claim that I am under duress.”
“You refuse to sign, then?”