In his eager hope John Allandale had leant forward so as not to miss a word the other said. Now, however, he threw himself back in his chair. Some suspicion was in his mind. It might have been intuition. He knew Lablache well. He laughed cynically.
"That's more like you," he said roughly.
"One moment," said the money-lender; the smile vanished from his lips. "Fair play's good medicine. We'll wipe out your debts if you'll tell your niece that you want her to marry me."
"I'll—I'll—"
"Hold on, John," with upraised hand, as the old man purpled with rage and started to shout.
"I'll see you damned first!" The rancher had lurched on to his feet and his fist came down with a crash upon the corner of the table. Lablache remained unmoved.
"Tut tut, man; now listen to me." The old man towered unsteadily over him. "I can't understand your antipathy to me as a husband for your niece. Give your consent—she'll do it for you—and, on my wedding day, I burn those mortgages and I'll settle 100,000 dollars upon Jacky. Besides this I'll put 200,000 dollars into your ranch to develop it, and only ask ten per cent, of the profits. Can I speak fairer? That girl of yours is a good girl, John; too good to kick about the prairie. I'll make her a good husband. She shall do as she pleases, live where she likes. You can always be with us if you choose. It's no use being riled, John, I'm making an honest proposition."
The rancher calmed. In the face of such a generous proposal he could not insult Lablache. He was determined, however. It was strange, perhaps, that any suggestion for his influence to be used in his niece's choice of a husband should have such a violent effect upon him. But "Poker" John was a curious mixture of weakness and honor. He loved his niece with a doting affection. She was the apple of his eye. To him the thought of personal benefit at the cost of her happiness was a sacrilege. Lablache understood this. He knew that on this point the rancher's feelings amounted to little short of mania. And yet he persisted. John's nature was purely obstinate, and obstinacy is weakness. The money-lender knew that obstinacy could be broken down by steady determination. However, time, with him, was now everything. He must clinch the deal with as little delay as possible if he would escape from Foss River and the ruinous attacks of Retief. This thought was ever present with him and urged him to press the old man hard. If John Allandale would not be reasonable, he, Lablache, must force an acceptance of his terms from him.
The rancher was mollified. His dulled brain suddenly saw a loop-hole of escape.
"I guess you mean well enough, Lablache. But say, ask the child yourself."