CHAPTER XXII
THE ULTIMATUM
The frost soon broke up, and it was raining heavily one afternoon, whenthe boys were at work in an excavation they had driven under a big firstump shortly after their shooting trip. Frank, very wet and dirty, laypropped up on one elbow with his head and shoulders inside the hole,chopping awkwardly at a root. His legs and feet were in a pool of wateroutside and there was very little room to swing the ax, while at everyblow the saturated soil fell down on him. Grubbing out a stump in wetweather is a singularly disagreeable task.
Harry crouched close beside him where he was partly sheltered from therain by the network of roots which rose above his head. The boys hadspent most of the day cutting through those which ran along the surfaceof the ground and digging to get at the rest, until they had been forcedto drive a tunnel to reach one or two which went vertically down, for itwas an unusually large stump. At last when his ax shoved through theobstacle Frank paused for breath, and, as it was getting dark in theexcavation, Harry lighted a piece of candle. The light fell upon amassive shaft of wet wood which sank into the ground.
"Nobody fixed as we are could chop through that," he grumbled. "It's thebig taproot, and it would take most of another day's shoveling to makeroom to get at it with the crosscut. It looks as if we'd have to putsome giant powder in. Where's that auger?"
Frank reached out for the boring tool, which resembled a hugecorkscrew, only that instead of a handle it had a hole at its upper endfor the insertion of a short lever.
"I'll bore while you get things ready, if you like," he suggested. "Doyou often use dynamite?"
"We never fire a shot when we can help it, though there are ranchers whoget through a lot of the stuff. Giant powder's expensive, and, thoughlabor's expensive, too, you have to figure whether a shot's going topay. It's worth while if it will save you grubbing most of the day.Slant the hole you bore a little upward while I go along for themagazine."
Harry crawled out of the excavation, and Frank slipped a crossbarthrough the hole in the auger, driving the point of the latter into thewood. It went in easily, but the work grew harder as he twisted it roundand round, kneeling with his shoulders against the roots, while thecandle flickered and big drops of water trickled down on him. Theposition was a cramping one, and his wet hands slipped upon thecrossbar, but he had become accustomed to doing unpleasant things, andit was evident that one could not clear a ranch without grubbing stumps.
By and by Harry came back, and telling him to hold the light carefully,produced what looked rather like a yellow candle, and a piece of blackcord with a copper cap nipped down on the end of it.
"That's the detonator," he said, pointing to the cap. "You saw one ortwo of them at Webster's ranch."
"I didn't feel inclined to stop and examine them then," Frank answeredwith a laugh.
"They're very like the caps used for guns, only, as you see, they'rebigger, and it's wise to be careful how you pinch one down on the fuse.The stuff they fill the end with is mighty powerful. So's giant powder,but it's peculiar because it will only burn unless you fire it withsomething that makes a bang. At least, that's what it does in a generalway. The trouble is you can never be quite sure of it."
He worked the soft yellow substance over the detonator, after which hethrust it gently into the auger hole and pressed a handful of soil downon it. Frank was thankful when he had finished, for having heard of thetremendous powers of the giant powder he did not care to be shut up withit among that network of roots. Then Harry, straightening the strip ofblack fuse which projected from the hole, took a quick glance about him.
"We'll make sure we can get out before we light it," he remarked, takingthe candle and holding it to the fuse. "You don't want to stay aroundonce the fuse is burning. Crawl back and hold those roots up out of myway."
The candle was by this time sputtering and sparkling, and Frank swunghimself up out of the hole and set off madly across the clearing,shouting to Mr. Oliver and Jake, who were at work not far away. Hiscompanion, following close behind, stopped him presently.
"Hold on!" he shouted with a laugh. "You needn't run right down to thecove. Giant powder's kind of local in its action, and that charge isn'tgoing to turn the whole clearing upside down."
They waited behind a neighboring stump, and a few minutes later Frank,who had felt himself thrilled with expectation, was grievouslydisappointed. He had looked for a spectacular result, but there was onlya dull, heavy thud, a sound of rending and splitting, and a wisp ofvapor out of which a little soil flew up.
"Now," said Harry, "we'll go along and have a look, but we'll workaround the stump and come at it down the wind."
"Why?" Frank asked.
His companion snickered. "Only that it would probably knock you over,I'd let you go and see. It's wise to keep clear of the gases afterfiring giant powder. They haven't the same effect on everybody, butmost men who get a whiff of them want to lie down for the rest of theday."
They approached the stump cautiously on its windward side, but there wasnot much to see. It appeared to have been split and was slightly raised,but it had certainly not been blown to fragments, as Frank had expected.
"Do you think the shot has cut the root?" he asked.
"No," said Harry with a smile, "you couldn't call it cutting. It hasmelted it, swallowed it, blotted it right out. You'll find very littleof that root to-morrow, and there won't be any pieces lying roundeither."
He broke off and grabbed Frank's arm as the latter moved toward theother side of the stump.
"Come back!" he warned. "The gas is hanging about yet."
Frank noticed a rather unpleasant smell, and was conscious of a pain inhis head, but it passed off as they crossed the clearing together. As itwas getting too dark to work, Mr. Oliver and Jake joined them beforethey reached the house. They changed their clothes when they went in,and after toiling in the rain all day Frank was glad to sit down dressedin dry things at the well-spread table. The room was very cozy with itsbright lamp and snapping stove, and the doleful wail of the wind and thethrashing of the rain outside emphasized its cheerfulness. He feltlanguidly content with himself and the simple, strenuous life he led.For the most part, though they had occasional adventures, it was anuneventful one, and some time had passed since they had heard anythingof the dope runners. He wondered what had become of them, or if they hadfound smuggling unprofitable and had given it up.
Supper was about half finished when there was a knock at the door andthe dog rose with a growl. Harry seized the animal's collar just as aman appeared in the entrance. His clothes were black with water and atrickle of it ran from the brim of the soft hat he held in one hand. Hewas a young man and the paleness of his face suggested that he was fromthe cities.
"Is it far to Carthew Creek?" he inquired.
"Eight or nine miles," Mr. Oliver replied. "The trail's very bad andyou'll have some trouble in keeping it on a night like this. Have youany reason for going straight through?"
"I believe a steamboat calls to-morrow and I thought of going back withher. I've had about enough of these bush trails."
"Then we'll put you up," said Mr. Oliver obligingly. "You can get onagain first thing in the morning. You're wet enough now, aren't you?"
The stranger admitted that he was, but seemed to hesitate.
"I don't want to trouble Miss Oliver," he said. "Still, as it happens,I've a message for you."
Mr. Oliver said that he would give him some dry clothes, and the twowithdrew to get them. They came back a few minutes later and sat down atthe table. The stranger made an excellent meal, and Mr. Oliver waiteduntil he had finished before he asked a question:
"Have you walked in?"
"From the settlement," the other answered. "As I expected to get back bythe steamboat, I left my hired horse with Porteous at the store."
"Porteous doesn't keep the store."
"The other fellow got hurt chopping a week or so ago. A log or a bigbranch fell on him, and they sent him off t
o Seattle. Porteous isrunning the business until he gets better."
Frank fancied that Mr. Oliver was displeased at this, but there was nochange in his manner toward his visitor.
"Is he running the post office, too?" he asked.
"Oh, yes. I had to tell him something about a letter."
"You mentioned that you had some business with me. I suppose you'relooking up orders for fruit trees?"
The stranger smiled. "I'm a store clerk by profession. Out of a job atpresent. Name's T. Graham Watkins. Now you know me."
He turned to Miss Oliver with a bow, but she made no comment, and heglanced toward the boys.
"We've got to have a talk," he added, addressing Mr. Oliver. "I'm notsure you'd want these young men or your sister to hear."
"You can tell it here," said Mr. Oliver dryly. "I can make a guess atyour business, and if I'm right I've no objections to the others stayingwhere they are."
"Then it's just this. The folks I represent aren't pleased with you.They've a notion that you've been bucking against them for the last fewmonths and trying to find out things they'd rather keep dark."
"I presume you're referring to the dope runners. Why didn't they comethemselves?"
"That's easily answered," said Mr. Watkins. "I understand you haven'tseen one of them yet, and they don't want to give you an opportunity ofdoing so."
Harry grinned at Frank across the table unnoticed by the speaker.
"In my case it doesn't matter," the latter added. "I've merely called togive you a message."
"Aren't you rather hanging fire with it?" Mr. Oliver asked.
"I feel kind of diffident. I don't want to say anything that might alarmyour sister."
Miss Oliver smiled. "You needn't hesitate. My brother generally takes meinto his confidence, and I don't think either of us is very easilystartled."
"Won't you send the boys away, anyhow?"
"No," said Mr. Oliver quietly, "I think I mentioned that I'd rather letthem stay."
"Well," said the other, "this is the position. The gentlemen youmentioned can land their stuff near here and get it away through thebush easily; that is, if you'll lie by and take no hand against them.There are other routes, but they're longer and more difficult, and myfriends would rather stick to this one if it's possible. The question ishow can they make it worth your while to shut your eyes and leave themalone?"
Harry suddenly straightened himself and Frank noticed the quick flush ofanger in his face, but Miss Oliver was smiling and the rancher's voicewas as tranquil as usual.
"The answer's very simple," he said. "It can't be done."
Mr. Watkins appeared astonished.
"I want you to consider your position," he repeated.
"I may tell you that I considered it carefully some months ago, butthere's a point I'd like to mention. Has it struck you that I mightpromise to fall in with your friends' views and all the same give themaway?"
"It was talked about," Mr. Watkins answered. "We decided it wouldn't bein keeping with what we knew about your character, and you'd certainlybe sorry you had done it afterward."
"Now we're coming to the second and more important half of the message,"said Mr. Oliver.
"You're right," was the answer. "I'm to understand that when you say youwon't meet my friends' views it's your last word?"
"Yes," said Mr. Oliver firmly.
"Then my message is a plain one. Let up, or look out. I want you to fixyour attention on the last part of it. You have quite a nice place here,a high-class barn and homestead, and a good hay crop, and there's nobodyliving within some miles of you except Webster."
"Precisely!" said Mr. Oliver. "They cost me a good deal of very hardwork and I shall try to keep them. Now I suppose you've said yourpiece?"
Mr. Watkins raised his hand as if to beg his forbearance.
"You've heard it all. I only want to add that I'm quite willing to startright now for Carthew if you wish it."
Mr. Oliver laughed naturally and easily.
"No," he said, "you're my guest for the night. After this we'll changethe subject and talk about something else." He looked around. "Harry,will you bring the cigar box out?"
Mr. Watkins did not appear to be a brilliant conversationalist, but hediscussed politics and railroad extension with his host, and Frank foundhimself wondering at and admiring the rancher's attitude. He had shownno sign of anger and had never failed in courtesy. Threats hadapparently no effect on him, and he had received them with a quietamusement which appealed in particular to the boy's fancy. It seemedever so much finer than blustering indignation, but he thought thatthere would be a striking change in Mr. Oliver's manner if he were everdriven to action.
Mr. Watkins took his departure after breakfast next morning, after whichMr. Oliver wrote two letters before he called the boys.
"I want you to take the sloop and go up to the settlement," he said."You will mail this letter there. It's to Barclay, though it isn'tdirectly addressed to him."
Harry looked thoughtful.
"Of course," he said hesitatingly, "I'll do that if you wish it, butPorteous is a mean white, isn't he? Mightn't he open the thing?"
"It's possible," Mr. Oliver answered with a smile. "As it happens, I'veno great objections to his reading it, and I'm mailing it with him as anexperiment. Don't put it into the box, but hand it to him. When youhave done that sail back along the beach and then head right across toBannington's, where you'll mail this other letter. As you can't be backto-night, you had better take some provisions with you. Start as soon asyou can."
The boys were off in half an hour, for the rain had stopped and therewas a clear sky and a moderate breeze. As they sailed out of the coveHarry from his place at the helm glanced at his companion with achuckle.
"When you come to understand him, dad's unique," he said. "Porteous willopen that letter. He's mean enough for anything, and it's been myopinion all along that he's in with the gang."
"But won't it give your father's plans away if he reads it?"
"Not much!" said Harry. "Haven't you got hold yet? The letter's abouthunting, and there's most likely an order in it for Winchester shells orsomething else that will put Porteous off the track. He's probably notan expert at opening envelopes, and it won't take Barclay long to tellwhether anybody has been tampering with the letter. The other one willgo through without being interfered with. They're white atBannington's."
"That won't get over much of the difficulty, after all," Frank objected."Won't your father's answer bring Watkins's friends down upon theranch?"
"It's possible," said Harry. "I've a notion that when they come dad willbe ready for them, and I fancy Barclay's nearly through with histrailing."
"You expect he'll make a new move then?"
Harry laughed. "Sure!" he said. "That little, fat man will geteverything fixed up without making the least fuss. Then he'll bring hishand down once for all and smash the whole dope-running gang. I don'tmind allowing that I was quite wrong about him at the beginning."
They said nothing more upon the subject, and they safely reached thecove next day after a long, cold sail.