CHAPTER XXIX
SUDDEN DEATH
Though Godfrey French's habits could not be called studious his privateroom was known as his "study," which possibly was as good as any othername. The furnishings of the room were of comfortable solidity. Sincethe room served as an office in which he transacted such business as hehad, there was a desk with many pigeon holes, and backed against thewall stood a small safe.
Outside it was dark, and the rising wind was beginning to sigh with apromise of breeding weather. But in the study, lit by a shade lamp, itsowner and Mr. Braden were comfortably seated. Beside them stood a smalltable bearing a decanter, a siphon and a box of cigars.
Mr. Braden helped himself to the whiskey. His drinking was strictlyprivate, but he indulged rather more frequently than of old, and inlarger doses. Somehow he seemed to require them. As for Godfrey French,he took his Scotch as he took his tea, as he had been taking it all hislife, and with no more visible effect.
But as Mr. Braden looked at French he seemed to have aged in the lastfew weeks. The features seemed more prominent, the keen face leaner andmore deeply lined, the cold, blue eyes more weary and more cynical.
"You look a little pulled down," Mr. Braden commented. "Perhaps a changewould do you good."
"If I could change the last thirty years for the next thirty, it might,"French agreed grimly.
"None of us get younger," said Mr. Braden. "I myself begin to feelthe--er--burden of the years."
"You're not old. It's the burden of your fat."
"Ha-ha!" Mr. Braden laughed without much mirth. "But what seems to bethe matter with you?"
"The life that is behind me," French replied. "You can't eat your cakeand have it. But what the devil is the use of cake if you don't eat it?I've eaten my cake and enjoyed it, and I'm quite willing to pay when thetimes comes. All flesh is as grass, Braden--even such a quantity asyours."
Mr. Braden shifted uneasily. Like many men he found any reference to hisultimate extinction unpleasant.
"Oh, yes, yes, of course we must all pay our debt to nature. No hurryabout it, though. We have a number of things to do first."
"We merely think we have," French returned. "It wouldn't matter in theleast if we both snuffed out to-night."
"It would matter to me," Mr. Braden declared with evident sincerity.
"But to nobody else. Who would care a curse if _you_ died?"
Offhand, Mr. Braden could not answer this blunt question. French grinnedat the expression of his face. "You don't like to face the inevitable,Braden. Well, since it is the inevitable it doesn't matter whether youlike it or not." He tossed three fingers of straight liquor down histhroat. A shade of color came into his lean cheeks and his eyesbrightened. "Have you heard anything fresh lately?"
Mr. Braden shook his head. "Nothing authoritative. I know the Airlinepeople are running trial lines east of here. I had a reply to my letterfrom the head of their real estate department--McKinley, as near as Icould make out the signature--and he says just about half a page ofnothing."
"He doesn't want to tip their hand."
"That's what I think, I know they are coming through here, and when theydo it will kill this town, because they won't come within fifteen milesof it. Well, in a week or so I'll own the Mackay ranch, and be in shapeto make them a definite townsite proposition whenever they do come.There isn't a better natural townsite anywhere."
"No hold-up," French warned. "They won't stand for it. Give them a goodslice if they want it."
"I'll do that because I can't help myself. It's lucky I've been able tobring on the sale so soon. You were wrong in thinking it would stop thegirl from marrying Mackay, though."
"I thought she would have more sense than to marry him under thecircumstances."
"You've heard nothing about the--er--deeds since you gave them to her?"Mr. Braden asked.
"Nothing at all."
"Then I guess it's all right. When I sell out Mackay he'll get out ofthe district likely. Just as well. He might find out something if hestayed around here."
"He might," French agreed. "He suspects that we split up the biggestpart of the price that Winton was supposed to pay for the land."
"He can't prove it."
"And possibly he suspects that you are responsible for his failure toget a new loan. He may even suspect that you had something to do withwhat happened to his water supply.
"No; but when a man begins to suspect he interprets things whichotherwise would carry no meaning. So far he connects us only through theoriginal transaction with Winton. If he knew the truth he'd probablytwist your neck like a chicken's."
Mr. Braden moved that threatened part of his anatomy uneasily. "Hewouldn't dare to attempt physical violence."
French laughed. "You don't know that young man, Braden, because you're adifferent breed. I know him, because I've seen his kind before. I made amistake in quarreling with him."
"I'd like to see him beaten to a pulp," said Mr. Braden viciously, "butafter all, it's the money we want. I'm having a devil of a time to keepmy head above water, and you're broke."
"Yes, I'm broke," French admitted. "These things are the only chance Isee of getting money. When a man reaches my age and faces poverty towhich he is unaccustomed, he will do almost anything for money. I wantto see the cities and some of the men I knew thirty years ago, before Idie. For money to do that I'd give--give--I would--give--"
Something seemed to have gone wrong with Godfrey French's enunciation.It resembled nothing so much as a phonographic record with arunning-down motor. He did not stammer, but the words came slowly andthen blurred, as if his tongue had lost power. His face, on which a lookof blank wonder had come, suddenly contorted, his hand caught at hisbreast, he threw his head back, chin up, mouth open, gasping.
"What's the matter?" Mr. Braden cried, startled at this suddentransformation. "Are you ill? What--"
"Get--" Godfrey French muttered indistinctly, "get--" He fell back inhis chair, inert, sagging arms loose, his face gray, unconscious.
For an instant Mr. Braden stared at his associate horrified. It was asif he had been seized, struck down and throttled by an invisible handwhich might claim another victim. Recovering, he poured a glass ofliquor with a shaking hand, and shivered as the rim clinked against theunconscious man's teeth. He ran to the door.
"Help!" he shouted wildly to the echoing darkness of the hall. "Come,somebody! Help!"
His call was answered by Kathleen and young Larry.
"Your father!" Mr. Braden quavered. But Kathleen, pushing past him, ranto her father's side.
"He has a hypodermic somewhere," she said. "Look in his room, Larry,quick!" Young Larry bounded for the stairs. "He has had these attacksbefore, but this is the worst."
"I'll go for the doctor," Mr. Braden offered.
"Larry will go. Your horse isn't fast enough. I wish you'd stay here, ifyou don't mind. The other boys are out and I'm alone."
But in a moment Larry returned with a hypodermic syringe in its case anda vial of tablets. Kathleen dissolved one of the latter, and baring herfather's arm administered the injection with a swiftness and steadinesswhich commanded Mr. Braden's admiration. "We'd better get him up to hisroom," she said.
Larry picked up his father's inert body and mounted the stairs. He laidhim on his bed.
"I'll look after him now," Kathleen said. "You won't mind waiting tillLarry comes back, Mr. Braden? And--_ride_, Larry!"
Mr. Braden returned to the study. In a few moments he heard the dancingrataplan of the hoofs of an eager, nervous horse, a curse from Larry,the hoof-beats clamored past, steadied to a drumming roar, and died inthe distance. Evidently Larry was riding at a pace which probably meanta foundered horse.
Mr. Braden helped himself to a drink. Inadvertently he sat down in thechair which had held Godfrey French, and suddenly realizing that factvacated it hastily. Outside the wind had increased to a gale, and withit was rain. The window was open and the drawn blind slatted to and fro.Mr. Braden selected
another chair and sat down.
But in a moment he arose, went to the door and listened. Leaving it ajarhe went to the desk and proceeded to pull out drawer after drawer,rooting among their contents. Not finding what he sought he turned tothe safe. He stared at the impassive face of the dial, shook his head,half turned away, and then caught the handle and twisted it. To hisamazement the bolts snicked back. Apparently whoever had closed the safehad neglected to turn the knob of the combination.
Mr. Braden burrowed in the safe's contents, and with an exclamation ofsatisfaction seized a packet of legal-looking documents bound by arubber band. He stripped off the band and riffled the papers. Apparentlyhe found what he sought, for he selected two documents, replacing therest. Then, crossing the room to the light he opened the documents andproceeded to verify them by glancing at their signatures.
As he stood he fronted the window; and as he raised his eyes from theperusal the down blind bellied and lifted with a gust of wind. In theenlarged opening thus made Mr. Braden saw or thought he saw, a face. Itwas but the merest glimpse he had of it, white with the reflected lightof the lamp. For an instant it stood out against the darkness, and thenthe blind dropped back into place, hiding it.
Hastily Mr. Braden shoved the papers in his pocket, while a gentle butclammy perspiration broke out upon his forehead. But had he actuallyseen a face, or was it some freak of vision? He went to the window,raised the blind and peeped out. It was pitch dark and raining hard, butacross from him there was a glint of white, and in a moment heidentified it as merely a painted post of a fence glistening in therain. So that was the "face." Mr. Braden's heart resumed its normalaction. He closed the safe, spun the combination, sat down and pickingup a paper began to read.
It was more than an hour later when Dr. Wilkes arrived. He came alone,Larry having gone in search of his brothers. Mr. Braden listened to thesound of low voices, of footsteps coming and going on the floor above.Finally Wilkes came down.
"And how is the patient?" Mr. Braden asked.
"Gone out."
"Gone out? You don't mean--"
Dr. Wilkes nodded. Between him and Mr. Braden there was littlecordiality.
"What was the--er--cause of death?"
"Valvular cardiac disease of long standing."
"Poor fellow, poor fellow!" Mr. Braden sorrowed, his hand involuntarilycaressing the papers in his inside pocket. "You never can--or--that isin the midst of life we are in death. Why, only an hour or so ago he wasplanning for a trip abroad."
"He's on a longer trip," Wilkes said grimly.
But the pounding of hoofs outside indicated that Larry had found hisbrothers. In a moment he entered with Gavin and Gerald. Dr. Wilkes didnot soften his reply to Gerald's quick question. They stared at him,stupefied. It seemed to Mr. Braden that he should express his sympathy.
"My dear boys," he said, "I assure you that I feel for you in this darkhour. Providence in its inscrutable wisdom has seen fit--"
But Gavin interrupted him.
"Cut it out!" he growled. "We don't want any stuff like that from_you_!"
Shortly afterward Mr. Braden found himself driving homeward. The rainhad turned the road into mud, and was still coming down. It drove thoughthe lap-robe, wetted his knees and trickled down the back of his neck.He was thoroughly uncomfortable. Nevertheless he reflected thatProvidence in its inscrutable wisdom sometimes arranged things well.Once more his hands pressed the papers in his pocket. Arriving at hisapartments he placed them in an old-fashioned iron safe which wasoperated by a key instead of a combination. There were two keys. One Mr.Braden carried with others on a ring. The other hung upon a single naildriven into the wall immediately behind and concealed by the safeitself. As it was dark there and as the safe was very close to the wall,it seemed a very secure hiding place. On this occasion Mr. Braden usedthe latter key, because he had changed his wet garments and left hiskey-ring with them.
But Mr. Braden's trust in Providence might have lessened--orincreased--had he known that outside, chinning himself against thewindow-sill which he had just managed to reach from the rickety steps,hung Turkey Mackay; and that, further, the said Turkey had been awitness to the manner in which the papers had come into the possessionof Mr. Braden.