Lex rehearsed again and again the talk he had had that afternoon with Jule Quintell, and on the heels of this there paraded before his mind’s eye the damaging information he had gathered against the broker from confidential sources in Geerusalem. These had substantiated all that he had heard heretofore, and briefly, went to describe Quintell as a tricky, unscrupulous wildcatter, associated with a coterie of other like gentry, polished crooks all, whose sole aim was to fleece the unwary, and who exercised their power in camp by their manipulation of the ruthless “stingaree” element and control of the civil authorities.
This meant to Lex nothing less than that Quintell and his placer-claim partners were banded together to make the Mohave & Southwestern Company pay heavily for the privilege of laying its tracks across their ground. In other words, the broker’s reference to fabulous gold-bearing gravel existing in Geerusalem Gulch was true, but owing to the fact only that the ground had been salted to show the existence of gold. He had heard of many cases where worthless mines had been sold by the employment of such tactics. Why not in this instance? He was suspicious of the whole matter, and had there been another likely approach into the camp, he would have urged abandonment of the gulch route. But there was not.
The Quintell forces held the gates of Geerusalem, as it were. Though his surmise might be correct that they were faking their representations to make his company meet their demands, how could he prove it? How could he find out that they had salted those claims? They had doubtless done it cunningly, secretly, for proof of such an act laid them liable to arrest and prosecution.
Complicating the situation still more was the telegram he had received that same day from his father, directing that negotiations with Quintell be hastened, and details as to terms wired at the earliest possible moment. Quite the contrary, it seemed as if the broker was sparring for time. He had stated that the valuation of the ground to be covered by the right of way must be determined by the content of gold per cubic yard of gravel occupied by the roadbed. This meant assaying the gulch, and assaying took time. And it followed that the richer the ground, the greater would be the price demanded. Lex sensed the scheme and writhed at the realization that he was powerless to frustrate it. The mining laws of California favored the owner who could show mineral in paying quantities.
His gloomy reflections were startlingly interrupted by a violent pounding on the front door. Of a sudden, the silent night roared out with a bedlam of men’s voices. From the rear of the house came the crack of a revolver, the crash of glass from one of the kitchen windows, Lennox’s terrified cry.
Lex sprang out of bed, pulled a curtain aside, and peered into the darkness. The porch was jammed with men. He could hear the hurried tramp of boots on the driveway leading to the barn, the blows of an ax wielded on the barn door, breaking its padlock. The pounding at the front of the house was resumed, accompanied by kicks.
“Huntington, open up or we’ll bust her in!” shouted a man, with an oath.
Lex groped about for matches and lighted a lamp. “Hold on there a minute!” he yelled back. He began hurrying into his clothes. A strange nervousness seized him. Vigilantes—a mob—had crept up and surrounded the place. They had come to exact some tribute, to wreak vengeance, to enforce summary justice. Which, and on whom? He heard Dot’s voice in the hall, vibrant and fearless.
“What do you want?”
“Bust down the door!” chorused the crowd.