The Long Chance
CHAPTER XVI
Mr. Hennage turned slowly and walked out of the drug-store, for he hadaccomplished his mission. Once again, without recourse to violence, hehad maintained his reputation as the worst man in San Pasqual, for hispower lay, not in a clever bluff, but in his all-too-evident downrighthonesty of purpose. Had Doc Taylor presumed to fly in the face ofProvidence, after that warning, Mr. Hennage felt that the responsibilitymust very properly rest on the doctor, for the gambler would have killedhim as surely as he had the strength to work his trigger finger.
"Well, _that's_ over" he muttered as he returned to his room. "She'swoman enough to cover the rest o' the trail herself now, poor girl, an'in about a week I'll pull the big sting that's hurtin' her most."
Hastily he packed a suit-case with his few simple belongings, for inhis haste he was forced to abandon his old rawhide trunk that hadaccompanied him in his wanderings for twenty years. But one article didMr. Hennage remove from his trunk. It was an old magazine. He opened ittenderly, satisfied himself that the faded old rose that lay between theleaves was still intact, and packed this treasure into the suit-case;then, while waiting for the north-bound train to whistle for SanPasqual, he sat down at a little table and wrote a note to Donna:
_Dear Miss Donnie:_
I am sending you a thousand by Sam Singer. You might need it. Am introuble and must get out quick. Will stay away until things blow over.Hoping these few lines will find you feeling well, as they leave me atpresent, I am,
Respect. yrs.
H. P. HENNAGE.
P. S. I came to say good-by a little while ago and was sorry you wasn'tfeeling well.
This note Mr. Hennage sealed carefully in an envelope, together witha compact little roll of bills, just as the train whistled for SanPasqual. He seized his suit-case and hurried down stairs, and on the waydown he met Sam Singer coming up.
"Give this to Miss Donna" said Mr. Hennage, and thrust the envelope intothe Indian's hand. "Ain't got no time to talk to you, Sam. This ismy busy day," and then, for the last time, he gave Sam Singer theinevitable half dollar and a cigar.
"Good-by, Sam" he called as he descended the stairs. "Be a good Injuntill I see you again."
He went to the ticket window, purchased a ticket to San Francisco andclimbed aboard the train. Two minutes later it pulled out. As it plungedinto Tehachapi Pass, Mr. Hennage, standing on the platform of the rearcar, glanced back across the desert at San Pasqual.
"Nothin' like mystery to keep that rotten little camp up on its toes"he muttered. "I'll just leave that mess to stew in its own juices for awhile."
He went into the smoker and lit a cigar. His plans were well matured nowand he was content; in this comfortable frame of mind he glanced idlyaround at his fellow-passengers.
Seated two seats in front of him and on the opposite side of the coach,Mr. Hennage observed a gray-haired man reading a newspaper. The gamblerdecided that there was something vaguely familiar about the back of thispassenger's head, and on the pretense of going to the front of the carfor a drink of water he contrived, on his way back to his seat, to catcha glimpse of the stranger's face. At the same instant the man glanced upfrom his paper and nodded to Mr. Hennage.
"How" said Harley P., and paused beside the other's seat. "Mr. T. MorganCarey, if I ain't mistaken?"
"The same" replied Carey in his dry, precise tones. "And youare--Mr.--Mr.--Mr. Hammage."
"Hennage" corrected the gambler.
"I beg your pardon. Mr. Hennage. Quite so. Pray be seated, Mr. Hennage.You're the very man I wanted to see."
He moved over and made room for Mr. Hennage beside him. The gambler satdown and sighed.
"Hot, ain't it?" he remarked, rather inanely.
"Rather. By the way, Mr. Hennage, have you, by any chance, seen thatyoung man for whom I was inquiring on the day I first had the pleasureof making your acquaintance? His name is McGraw--Robert McGraw. You willrecollect that I left with you one of my cards, with the request thatyou give it to McGraw, should you meet him, and inform him that Idesired to communicate with him."
"Yes" replied Mr. Hennage calmly. "I met him one day in San Pasqual an'gave him your card."
"You gave him my registered letter, also?"
So Carey had been talking with Miss Pickett again! Mr. Hennage nodded.
"Tell me, Mr. Hennage" purred Carey. "Why did the man, McGraw, send youto the post-office with an order for that registered letter?"
"Oh, he was in a little trouble at the time an' didn't care to show inpublic" lied Mr. Hennage glibly.
"I perceive. I believe you mentioned something about his reputation as ahard citizen when I first spoke to you about him."
"Tougher'n a bob-cat" Mr. Hennage assured him, for no earthly reasonexcept a desire to be perverse and not contradict his former statements.
"Hu-u-m-m! I presume you know where Mr. McGraw may be found at present.Is he liable to communicate with you?"
Mr. Hennage was on guard. "Well, I ain't sayin' nothin'" he repliedevasively. It was in his mind to discover, if possible, the details ofthe business which this man of vast emprise could have with a pennilessdesert rat like Bob McGraw.
"Is this McGraw a friend of yours, Mr. Hennage?" pursued Carey.
"Well," the gambler fenced, "I've loaned him money."
"Ever get it back?" Carey smiled a thin sword-fish smile.
"Certainly. Why do you ask?"
"You consider McGraw honest?"
"Sure shot--between friends. Yes."
Carey turned his head slowly and gazed at the gambler in mean triumph."Well, I'm sorry I can't agree with you" he said. "Your friend McGrawrobbed me of fifteen hundred dollars on the San Pasqual-Keeler stage afew days ago."
The fact that Carey had been a victim of Bob McGraw's feloniousactivities was news to Mr. Hennage, but he would not permit Carey tosuspect it.
"Yes" he replied calmly, "I heard he'd taken to road work."
"He held up the stage" Carey repeated, in the flat tone of finalitywhich the foreman of a jury might have employed when repeating theverbal formula: "We, the jury, find the defendant guilty, as charged."
"Then you recognized McGraw" ventured the gambler.
"The moment I saw him."
"That's funny" echoed Harley P. "I gathered from what you told me in SanPasqual that you two'd never met up, an' they tell me that durin' thehold-up McGraw was behind a wall an' wearin' a mask. You're sure somerecognizer, Mr. Carey."
"We had met prior to the hold-up and subsequent to my conversation withyou in San Pasqual."
"Still the bet goes as she lays" repeated Mr. Hennage. "For anear-sighted gent you're sure some recognizer."
"I recognized his voice."
Mr. Hennage was silent for a minute. Carey continued.
"If the sheriff gets him, I'll see to it that McGraw doesn't rob anotherstage for some time to come."
Still Mr. Hennage was silent. He was digesting the conversation, andthis much he gathered:
There was some mysterious business afoot wherein Carey and Bob McGrawwere jointly interested, and they had met and quarreled over it, asevidenced by T. Morgan Carey's all too apparent animosity. Mr. Hennagehad a haunting suspicion that Carey's animus did not arise from thefact that McGraw had robbed him of fifteen hundred dollars. He felt thatthere was a deeper, more vital reason than that. All of his days Mr.Hennage had lived close to the primitive; he was a shrewd judge ofhuman impulses and it had been his experience that men quarrel overtwo things--women and money. The possible hypothesis of a woman, inthe suspected quarrel between Bob McGraw and T. Morgan Carey, Harley P.dismissed as untenable. Remained then, only money--and Bob McGraw had nomoney. His finances were at so low an ebb as to be beneath the notice ofsuch a palpable commercial wolf as T. Morgan Carey; consequently, andin the final analysis, Mr. Hennage concluded that Bob McGraw possessedsomething which Carey coveted. Whether his spiteful attitude towardthe unfortunate Bob arose from this, or the loss of the fifteen hundreddollars, Mr. Hennage now pur
posed discovering. He leaned toward Careyconfidentially and lowered his voice.
"Say, looky-here, Mr. Carey. This boy, McGraw, is a friend o' mine. Alittle wild? Yes. But what young feller now-a-days ain't? I know he'srobbed you o' fifteen hundred dollars, an' I'm sorry for that, but I canfix you up all right. I'm goin' to get into communication with our youngfriend before long, if he ain't beefed by the sheriff first, or capturedalive--but it's ten to one they get him, an' he'll be brought to trial.Well, now, here's what I'm drivin' at. If the boy's nabbed, an' you'llagree to sorter, as the feller says, tangle the woof o' memoryan' refuse to swear that you recognize the said defendant as thehereinbefore mentioned stage-robber, I'll see that you get your fifteenhundred back. This is his first serious job, Mr. Carey, an' I wish you'dgo easy on him. He ain't really bad."
T. Morgan Carey pounded the back of the seat in front of him.
"Not for fifty thousand dollars" he said. "The suggestion ispreposterous. The man is a menace to society and it is my duty totestify against him if he is apprehended."
"Then it ain't a question with you o' money back an' no questionsasked?"
Carey shook his head emphatically. "It's principle" he said.
Mr. Hennage appeared chopfallen. In reality he was amused. Never beforehad Mr. Hennage met a man to whom the abandonment of such "principle"would have been impossible under the terms suggested. Clearly there wassomething wrong here. Mr. Hennage had met men to whom vengeance wouldhave been cheap at fifty thousand, but principle--the gambler shook hishead. He had lived long enough to learn that principle is a marketablecommodity, and he was not deceived in T. Morgan Carey's attitude ofcivic righteousness.
"Well, it's too bad you won't listen to reason, Mr. Carey" he saidregretfully. "I thought you might be willin' to go easy on the youngfeller. It's too durned bad," and he rose abruptly and returned to hisown seat. Carey resumed the perusal of his newspaper. He was notanxious to continue the conversation, and he believed he had Mr. Hennageintimidated, and for reasons of his own he was desirous of permittingthe gambler to think matters over.
Mr. Hennage proceeded at once to think matters over. "Now, I wonder whatthat kid-glove crook has against the boy!" he mused. "I can see rightoff that Bob has an ace coppered, an' this sweet-scented burglar wouldlike to see Bob tucked away in the calaboose while he goes huntin' forthe ace. What in Sam Hill can them two fellers have between them? Here'sBob, just a plain young desert rat, a-dreamin' an' a-romancin' over thecountry, while this Carey is a solid citizen. He's president o' theInyo Land & Irrigation Company, according to his card. Bob ain't got nomoney--Carey has a carload of it. Bob ain't got no water--Carey's inthe irrigation business. Bob ain't got no real estate, 'ceptin' what heaccumulates on his person wanderin' around, and Carey's got land--"
Mr. Hennage emitted a low soft whistle through the slit between two ofhis gold teeth.
Land! That was it. Land! And government land at that!
Mr. Hennage suddenly recollected the letter which Bob McGraw had writtenhim from Sacramento, requesting a loan of fifty dollars, and enclosing,without comment, a typewritten contract form for the acquisition ofstate lieu lands. Mr. Hennage had read this contract at the time of itsreceipt, little thinking that Bob was wholly unconscious of the factthat he had enclosed it with his letter. Mr. Hennage had marveled at thetime that Bob should have made no reference to it in his letter.
He took Bob's letter from his breast pocket now, and carefully perusedonce more this typewritten contract form. To him it conveyed littleinformation, save that Bob had been endeavoring to induce Tom, Dick andHarry to acquire state lieu lands by engaging him as their attorney, andwithout the disagreeable necessity putting up any money. A veryqueer proceeding, concluded Mr. Hennage, in view of the fact that Bobapprehended litigation in order to establish the rights of his clients.At the first reading of this document two weeks previous, the gamblerhad merely looked upon it as evidence of another of Bob McGraw'sharebrained schemes for acquiring a quick fortune--a scheme founded onoptimism and predestined to failure; but in the light of recent eventsthe meager information gleaned from the contract form had now a deeper,a more significant meaning.
Here was a conundrum. Carey (according to his card, at any rate) hadthe water, while Bob McGraw (according to this contract form) wasendeavoring to acquire the land. Both were operating in Owens valley.Mr. Hennage smiled. No wonder they had quarreled, for without the land,of what use was the water to Carey? and without the water, of what valuecould the land be to Bob McGraw?
"I wouldn't give a white chip for a hull county o' such land" musedthe gambler, "unless I could set in the game with the chap that had thewater, an' Carey bein' a human hog, it stands to reason Bob's a chump totie up with Him, unless--unless--_he's got water of his own!_"
Mr. Hennage slapped his fat thigh. "By Jupiter," he murmured, "he's gotthe water! He must have it. He might be fool enough to hold up a stage,but he ain't fool enough to face a lawsuit, without a dollar in theworld, tryin' to make people take up land so he can sell 'em water forirrigation, unless he has the water. The boy ain't plumb crazy by nomeans. _That's the ace he's got coppered!_ He's got the water, and ifCarey can put him across for that hold-up job, who's to protect theboy's bet? Not a soul, unless it's me, an' I'm only shootin' at themoon. Bob ain't the man to put up a fight for worthless land, an'besides, wasn't Donnie askin' me a lot o' questions about water an'water rights, an' showin' a whole lot of interest, now that I come tothink on't? By the Nine Gods o' War! I smell a rat as big as a kangaroo.Bob's been buttin' in on Carey's game; Carey's been tryin' to buy himout, but Bob has Carey on the floor with his shoulders touchin', so hewon't sell an' he won't consolidate. If she don't 'tack up that-a-way,I'm an Injun. Carey wouldn't compromise with me an' take back hisfifteen hundred. Why! There's a reason. He'd sooner see young Bob in thepenitentiary because it'd mean more money to him. He wants Bob outo' the way, so he won't be on hand to draw cards, an' then this Careyperson 'll just reach out his soft little mitt and rake in the jack-pot.All right, T. Morgan Carey! Bob's out of it, but even if he is a crookI'll string a bet with him, for Donnie's sake, an' I'll deal you a bracegame an' you'll never know that the deck's been sanded."
And having thus, to his entire satisfaction, solved the mystery of thehitherto unaccountable actions of T. Morgan Carey and Bob McGraw,Mr. Hennage dismissed the matter from his mind, lit a fresh cigar andpermitted the peanut butcher to inveigle him into a friendly little gameof whist with three traveling salesmen.
Harley P. Hennage had purchased a ticket for San Francisco, but when thetrain reached Bakersfield and he observed T. Morgan Carey leaving thecar, bag in hand, the gambler suddenly decided that he, also, wouldhonor Bakersfield with his presence. He excused himself, hastily quittedhis innocent game of whist, seized his suit-case and rode up town in thesame hotel bus with Carey.
Carey registered first, sent his bag and overcoat up to his room, andthen walked over to the telegraph desk. Harley P. Hennage, standing inline to register, noticed that Carey had filed a telegram; consequently,when he had registered and T. Morgan Carey had disappeared into thebarber shop, Mr. Hennage, following up a strong winning "hunch," walkedover to the telegraph desk and laid a ten-dollar piece on the railing.
"I'm goin' to open a book, young lady" he announced. "I'm willin' to betten dollars that the respectable old party that just give you a telegramsigned Carey is wirin' about a friend o' mine. If I don't guess right,you get the ten bucks. Fair?"
The young lady operator dimpled and admitted that it was eminently fair.She had no illusions (although her position required her to have them)regarding the sacredness of privacy in a telegram, and Mr. Hennage hadnot as yet asked her to violate a confidence.
"I'm a-bettin' ten bucks" repeated Mr. Hennage, "that the name McGrawoccurs in that telegram."
"You win" the operator replied. "How did you guess it?"
"I was born with a veil" he replied. "I got the gift o' second sight,an' I'm just a-tryin' it out. The ten is yours for a
copy o' thattelegram."
The operator seized a scratch-pad, copied the telegram and cautiously"slipped" it to Mr. Hennage, who as cautiously "slipped" her theten-dollar bill. He was rewarded for his prodigality by the following:
R. P. McKeon, Mills Building, Sacramento, Calif.
Advise our friend approve McGraw applications at once. Letter follows.
CAREY.
The gambler smiled his thanks and walked across the hotel lobby tothe public-telephone operator. On this young lady's desk he laid afive-dollar bill.
"I want you to call up Sacramento on the long distance an' ask thecentral there to find out who Mr. R. P. McKeon is an' what he does for alivin'."
"We have copies of the telephone directories of the principal cities inthe state" came the quick reply. "It makes it easier if we ask for thenumber direct."
"Five bucks for a look in the book" announced Mr. Hennage. He got thebook, with the information that he might have his look for nothing, butbeing a generous soul he declined. He ascertained that R. P. McKeon wasan attorney-at-law.
"As the feller says, I believe I see the light" murmured the gambler."Now please get me the agent for Wells Fargo & Company at San Pasqual."
When the operator informed him that San Pasqual was on the line, Mr.Hennage went into a sound-proof booth and told a lie. He informed theagent at San Pasqual that he was the Bakersfield representative of theAssociated Press, and demanded the latest information regarding the huntfor the Garlock bandit. He was informed that there was no news.
"I gotta get some news" he bellowed into the receiver. "What's the exactloss o' your company?"
"Twenty-one hundred eighty-three forty."
"Serves you right. How about the passengers? Got their names an'addresses an' the amounts they lost?"
"No, but the express messenger has and he's in town. Hold the line aminute and I'll go call him."
So Mr. Hennage waited. Five minutes later, when he hung up, he hadsecured the information and made careful note of it, after which hesought an arm-chair in the hotel window, planted his feet on the windowsill and gave himself up to reflection. He was occupied thus when T.Morgan Carey came out of the barber shop, and seeing Mr. Hennage, cameover and sat down beside him. Mr. Hennage decided that the financiermust have something on his mind, and he was not wrong.
"Mr. Hennage" said Carey unctuously, "I have been thinking over theproposition which you made me coming up from San Pasqual thisafternoon, and if you still feel inclined to act as intermediary in thisunfortunate affair, I will submit a proposition. Mr. McGraw may retainthe fifteen hundred dollars which he stole from me, and I will agree togive him, say, five thousand more, through you, for a relinquishment tome of a water right which he has filed upon in the Sierra overlookingOwens valley. There is also another matter of which McGraw hascognizance, and he must agree to drop that too. His money will bedelivered to you, for delivery to him. In return, I will agree to beabsent when his case comes to trial, should he be captured. I will agreenot to recognize him."
"But suppose he refuses this programme, Mr. Carey. Then what?"
"In that event, my dear Mr. Hennage" replied Carey coldly, "you maytell him from me that I will spend a hundred thousand dollars to run himdown. I will have this state combed by Pinkertons, and when I land Mr.Robert McGraw I'll land him high and dry and it will be too late forhim to make _me_ a proposition then. I have the power and the moneynecessary to get him--and I know how."
"Well, what a long tail our cat's developing!" drawled Mr. Hennage."Carey, you give me a pain where I never knew it to ache me before.Now, you just sit still while I submit _you_ a little proposition. An'remember I ain't pleadin' with you to accept it. No, indeed. I'm justa-orderin' you to. Bob McGraw can't prove that he didn't rob that stage,but a child could make a monkey out o' you on the witness stand.Talked to him once an' recognized his voice, eh? Pooh! Met him once an'recognized him masked. Rats! I happen to know, Carey, that you didn'trecognize the stage robber _until after the messenger returned to thestage with his hat an' showed you his name on the sweat-band._ Then youremembered, because the wish was father to the thought, an' youwanted the boy in jail. Now, looky here. I happen to be mighty heavilyinterested in this here water right you're plannin' to blackmail McGrawout of. But you ain't got nothin' on me, an' you can't buy me out fora million dollars, an' you ain't got money enough--there ain't moneyenough in the world--to make me double-cross Bob McGraw just becausehe's a outlaw from justice."
He tapped Carey on the knee with his fat forefinger. "I'm playin'look-out on this game, an' it's hands off for you. You can't make a bet.You don't get that water right an' you won't get the land; if Bob McGrawain't on hand to sue for his rights, by the Nine Gods o' War, I'll suefor him, an' I'll put up the money, an' I'll match you an' your gang foryour shoe-strings, and you're whipped to a frazzle, an' get that intoyour head--understand? You're figurin' now on gettin' them applicationsapproved, eh? Well, you just cut it out. If them applications areapproved before I'm ready to have 'em approved, you know what I'll do toyou, Carey. I'll cut your heart out. Don't you figure for a minute thatthere ain't somebody protectin' that boy's bet. You scatter his chipsan' see what happens to you. Understand? You try upsettin' the Hennageapple-cart one o' these bright days, an' there'll be a rush order fora new tombstone. The motto o' the Hennage family has allers been 'HandsOff Or Take The Consequences.' Of course, if you insist, you can goto it with your private detectives, but you won't get far. You're upagainst a double-jointed play, Carey. Look out for snags."
T. Morgan Carey stared hard at Harley P. Hennage while the worst man inSan Pasqual was delivering his ultimatum. He continued to stare when Mr.Hennage had finished, smiling, for to Carey that golden smile was moredeadly than a scowl. Carey knew too well the kind of eyes that weregazing into his; they were the eyes of an honest man, and by the cut ofMr. Hennage's jaw Carey knew that here was a man who would "stay put."
Mr. Hennage laughed boldly, as he realized on what a slender foundationhis gigantic bluff was resting, and what an impression his words hadmade upon Carey. The latter pulled himself together and favored thegambler with a wintry grin.
"Kinder game little pup, after all" thought Mr. Hennage. "He thinks he'slicked, but he's goin' to bluff it out to the finish. I believe if thisfeller was on the level I'd like him. He's no slouch at whatever hetackles, you bet."
"Very well, Mr. Hennage" said Carey quietly, "I think I understand you.See that you understand me, in order that we may both understand eachother. You've declared war, on behalf of your felon of a partner. Verywell, I accept. It's war."
In turn, T. Morgan Carey tapped Mr. Hennage on the knee with _his_forefinger.
"I'll keep my hands off your business in the state land office. Yourapplications can pass through for approval, for all I care, but I'llenter a contest, alleging fraud, against you in the General Land Officeat Washington, and I'll hold you up for ten years in a mass of red tape.Hennage, you and McGraw have brains, I'll admit, but you can't play mygame and beat me at it. If I'm not in on this melon-cutting, I'll spenda million dollars to delay the banquet. Let me tell _you_ something.The day will come when you'll come scraping your feet at my office door,begging for a compromise. I'm a business man, and I tell you beforeyou're half through with this fight, you'll come to the conclusion thathalf a loaf is better than none at all--particularly in the matter ofextra large loaves. You'll come to me and compromise."
"Gosh, I'm dry with argument" taunted Mr. Hennage. "Now that weunderstand each other, let's be friends. We _can_ be friends out o'business hours, can't we, Carey? Come an' have a drink."
"With all my heart" Carey retorted, with genuine pleasure. "I mustconfess to a liking for you, Mr. Hennage. I could kill you and thenweep at your funeral, for upon my word you are the most amusing andphilosophical opponent I have ever met. I really have hopes thatultimately you will listen to reason."
"There is no hope" said Mr. Hennage, as he took T. Morgan Carey by thearm--almost, as Mrs. Dan P
ennycook would have expressed it, "friendlylike," and escorted him to the hotel bar. Here Mr. Hennage produced athousand-dollar bill from his vest pocket (he had carried that billfor ten years and always used it as a flash during his peregrinationsoutside San Pasqual) and calmly laid it on the bar.
"Wine" he said. Mr. Hennage's order, when doing the handsome thing, wasalways "wine." The barkeeper set out a pint of champagne and filled bothglasses. The gambler raised his to the light, eyed it critically andthen flashed his three gold teeth at T. Morgan Carey.
"Here's damnation to you, Mr. Carey" he said. "May you live unhappilyand die in jail."
"The sentiment, my dear Hennage, is entirely reciprocal" Carey flashedback at him. They drank, gazing at each other over the rims of theirglasses.
Despite the knock-out which Harley P. had given him, T. Morgan Careywas enjoying the gambler's society. Mr. Hennage was a new note in life.Carey had never met his kind before, and he was irresistibly attractedtoward the man from San Pasqual.
"Upon my word, Hennage" he said, as he set down his glass, "if yourliquor could only be metamorphosed into prussic acid, I'd gladlyshoulder your funeral expenses. You're a thorn in my side."
"We understand each other, Carey. Any time you're meditatin' suicidedrop around to San Pasqual an' I'll buy you a pistol."
Carey laughed long and loud. "Hennage" he said, "do you know I think Ishould grow to like you? By George, I think I should. If you should evercome to Los Angeles, look me up," and he presented the gambler with hiscard.
Mr. Hennage smiled, tore the card into little bits and dropped them tothe floor.
"Do I look like a tin-horn?" he queried.
A momentary frown crossed Carey's face; then he, too, smiled. He wasfinding it hard to take offense at the gambler's bluntness.
"I think you're a dead-game sport, Hennage" he said, and there was nodoubt that he meant it. "But I shall not despair. You have brains. Someday, I feel assured, we shall sit down together like sensible men and dobusiness."
"And in the meantime" replied Mr. Hennage, raising an admonitoryforefinger, "our motto is 'Keep off the grass.'"
"Oh, I won't walk on your darned old grass" Carey retorted. "I'll juststep between it."
They shook hands in friendly fashion, and Carey hurried away. Mr.Hennage stared after him.
"Sassy as a badger" he murmured. "I can't bluff that _hombre._ He'll goas far as he can, an' be ready to jump in the first chance he sees. Bob,my boy, you're up against it."
Mr. Hennage's business in Bakersfield was now completed. He felt certainthat a battle between Bob McGraw and T. Morgan Carey was inevitable,should Bob decide to remain in the background and send an ally out tofight for him. However, despite his horror of Bob's crime, the gamblerunconsciously extended him his sympathy, and if there was to be abattle, either its commencement had been delayed or its durationprolonged by the little bluff which he had just worked on T. MorganCarey, and that was all Mr. Hennage was striving for.
"I must find Bob" mused the gambler, "an' I must have time to find himbefore these people euchre him out o' that valuable water right o' his.An' when I find that young man, I'll bet six-bits he sells that waterright to me; then I'll sell it to my friend Carey an' the proceeds o'that sale 'll go to Donnie. A woman can get along without a man, ifshe's got the price to get along on."
The gambler's line of reasoning was a wise one. In the chain of powerfulcircumstantial evidence that linked Donna Corblay to Bob McGraw, Mr.Hennage was the most powerful link, and if he was to remove himselfbeyond the jurisdiction of a subpoena from the Superior Court of Kerncounty, and thus evade answering embarrassing questions when Bob shouldbe brought to trial (as the gambler felt certain he would be), itbehooved Mr. Hennage to travel far and fast.
He went down to the station and purchased a ticket for Goldfield,Nevada. Goldfield was in the zenith of her glory about that time andHarley P. felt certain of a plethora of easy money in any booming miningcamp. Indeed, it behooved him to seek pastures where the grass was longand green, for in the removal from Donna's heart of what he termed "thebig sting," Harley P. planned to play havoc with his bank-roll.
He proceeded about this delicate task as befits one who has a horror ofappearing presumptuous. A week after his arrival in Goldfield he renteda typewriter for a day, took it to his room in the Goldfield hotel andbattled manfully with it for several hours. After much toil he evolvedthe following form letter:
_Dear Friend:_
A short time ago I robbed the San Pasqual stage at Garlock. I took------ dollars of your money, which I return to you now; with manythanks, for the reason that I don't need it no more and am sorry I tookit.
I notice by the papers that they found my hat with my name in it, whichserves me right. I did not have no business doing that job in the firstplace. It was my first and it will be my last. I am going to start freshagain and hope you won't bear me no grudge for what I done.
Trusting that the same has not caused you any inconvenience, and withbest wishes I am
Respectfully,
ROBERT MCGRAW.
In the blank space left for the purpose Mr. Hennage inserted inlead-pencil the figures representing the exact amount of coin whichhe had been informed by the express agent had been taken from eachpassenger. Next he inserted the exact amount in paper money, togetherwith his letters, in envelopes which he also addressed on thetypewriter, stamped them and walked down to the post-office.
"Now, that fixes everything up lovely" he soliloquized, as he watchedthe envelopes disappear down the main chute. "Wells Fargo & Co. gettheirs back, so they'll pull off their detective force an' withdraw thereward; every passenger gets his back, an' if he's called to testifyit's a cinch he'll ask the judge to be merciful on the defendant,because he made restitution an' showed sorrer for what he went an' done.Everybody gets fixed up except T. Morgan Carey, an' I work too dog-gonehard for my money to throw it away on _him._ When folks find Bob hassent back the money he stole he won't be anything like the evil cuss heis now an' the whole thing 'll simmer down to a big joke. When that poorbroken-hearted little wife o' his hears about it she'll think it ain'tso bad after all. She'll figure that they can go somewhere else an' liveit down an' that'll ease the ache a heap. Suppose she does meet some o'them San Pasqual cattle in the years to come? What's the odds? Nobody inSan Pasqual knows him or ever seen him, 'ceptin' Doc Taylor--an' what'sin a name? Nothin'. There's hundreds o' McGraws in California right now,an' more arrivin' on every train."
Thus reasoned the artful Harley P. When his task was completed he stoodoutside the door of the post-office whimsically surveying the ruin ofhis fortune. Less than two thousand dollars was all he had to show fora life-time of endeavor, and one thousand of that was contained in asingle bill and was Mr. Hennage's pocket-piece. He must never changethat bill. It was his little nest-egg against a rainy day, and hereafterhe would have to carry it where it could not readily be reached whenunder the spell of sudden temptation.
He returned to his room, wrapped the bill into a compact little wad andtucked it far into the toe of one of his congress gaiters.
"It's a blessin'" he muttered plaintively, as he replaced his shoe,"that the lives us gamblers leads generally tends to choke off our windaround the fifty-mark at the latest. I'm forty-five an' here in the mereshank o' old age, after runnin' my own game for twenty years, I got togo to work for somebody else."