Shaughnessy who had been sitting aghast suddenly shifted his right foot backward as if to conceal his shoe, and David grinned as he had proof that his surmise had proven true.
“Why, I’ve even got a sheet of paper taken out of your office which is of the same kind, watermark and all, that the anonymous letter was written on, and it’s the same kind you used when you wrote Ray that nice friendly letter renewing your offer of a thousand dollars for his claim. Also, Shaughnessy, I’ve got some similar goods to pull about MacPharlane which don’t need to concern you unless I have to put it all in the hands of the county attorney, together, as I said before, with two prisoners, alive—or dead. Now, do we deal?”
For a long time Shaughnessy sat, discomfited, changing color, shifting his eyes, and now and then lifting them up to stare with unveiled hatred at the little man who sat silently observant across his desk.
“Damn you!” he growled at last, with an air of resignation, “you and that big pardner of yours are always butting in on my game and—and you’ll do it once too often. I’ll tell you that. But, I’ll say this!” He paused and then with reluctant admiration added, “You never make a play that you aren’t ready to raise to the limit and—I’ll admit this—you seem to know how to make your bluffs good!” He pondered heavily for a full minute more and then with a sigh asked, “If I agree to this, and pay over the seventy-five hundred for that claim, does that clean the slate and does the matter drop as far as Hillyer goes?”
“It does. All we want to do is to protect that poor boob Ray, and we know how to do that without troubling you.”
“Then it’s a go!” Shaughnessy said, as if relieved to have come to a decision.
“We’ll be with you all the time, Shaughnessy, all the time, until the money is paid over in cash,” David asserted sweetly. “In a way, we’ll act as if we were right fond of you—until then. Cash will talk. We’ll go with you to the county seat to-morrow to get Ray to make out the deeds to the claim and to give you his receipt for the seventy-five hundred in cash. And after that—you can go to hell your own way as far as we’re concerned!”
It may be that Hillyer still wonders whether the right course was pursued in the case of the last Big Divide stage robbery, but if so he has never said anything and merely smiles when asked why he released young Mr. Ray who, overcome by his great good fortune, pocketed the proceeds of his mining experience and is now said to be a prosperous farmer in the Middle West.
For a long time David never went near Wallula when he did not wear a watch charm which, if Mr. Shaughnessy happened to be in sight, he fondled and twirled with an exaggerated air of proud possession. Mr. Shaughnessy on such occasions invariably threatened to fall dead through an angry rush of blood to his bullet head, and needless to say, David invariably hoped he would!
Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the November 20, 1923 issue of The Popular Magazine.