The Land of Strong Men

  CHAPTER XXXI

  THE AUCTION

  The sale was to take place at noon in the sheriff's office. Afterbreakfast Angus went down to the corrals. Faith followed him.

  "I'd like to go with you to the sale."

  "Why?" he asked.

  "I'd just like to be with you."

  He stared at her for a moment. In his life this solicitude, almostmaternal, was a new thing.

  "Why, old girl, I believe you think I can't stand the gaff. But if youlike, we'll take our medicine together."

  Toward noon they entered the sheriff's office. Braden was already therewith his lawyer, Parks, talking with the sheriff. Presently entered thetwo strangers with whom Angus had talked the day before. The stout mansmiled and nodded, with a quick appraising glance at Faith. Then cameJudge Riley, and with him, to Angus' surprise, was Chetwood.

  "'Under and by virtue of the power of sale contained in a certainmortgage bearing date--and made between--'"

  The sheriff's voice droned on. Angus paid scanty attention. Now that hewas there "to stand the gaff" his feelings were almost impersonal.

  "What am I offered for this property?" the sheriff having stated theconditions of sale was getting down to business.

  "Ten thousand dollars." This from Mr. Braden. The amount was slightlymore than his mortgage claim.

  "Ten thousand dollars I am offered. Ten thousand. Are there any otheroffers? If not--" The sheriff paused, sweeping the room with his eye.Braden, looking at Angus, permitted himself a grin. "If not, then--"

  "Twelve thousand." It was the stout man, Mac. Having uttered the twowords he resumed a conversation with his friend.

  "Twelve thousand?" the sheriff repeated. "Was that right sir? You bidtwelve thousand, Mr.--er--"

  "McGinity," the stout man supplied.

  "Twelve thousand I am offered. Any other offers?"

  "Thirteen," said Mr. Braden.

  "Fourteen," said McGinity on the heels of Braden's voice.

  Faith whispered, "Who is he?"

  "I don't know. He was out at the ranch yesterday. I think he'll runBraden up."

  Braden whispered to his lawyer, who shook his head.

  "Fifteen thousand."

  "Sixteen."

  Mr. Braden frowned, hesitated and went over to Mr. McGinity.

  "We seem to be opposing each other," he observed.

  "Does seem like it."

  "Perhaps we could reach an understanding--privately. As it stands, weare running the price up."

  "I can stand it so far," said Mr. McGinity.

  "But we are cutting into each other. If you have reached your top figureI will give you five hundred on it."

  "I haven't any top figure--except the value of the property to me."

  "You have bid all the property is worth."

  Mr. McGinity grinned. "Then naturally you won't bid any more," said he.

  "I have--er--sentimental reasons for desiring this property. You won'tenter into any arrangement?"

  "Not just now."

  "Very well," said Mr. Braden. "Sixteen thousand, five hundred, Mr.Sheriff."

  "Seventeen," said Mr. McGinity, idly creasing his hat.

  Again Mr. Braden conferred with Parks. He raised the bid five hundred,and again the stranger tilted it. The latter did so nonchalantly.Between bids he conversed with his friend. But when Mr. Braden had bidnineteen thousand, five hundred, he shot it to twenty-one thousand.

  Though the perspiration stood upon Mr. Braden's brow, his pedalextremities began to suffer from cold. He had not expected anyopposition. The conditions of sale were stringent, as he had intendedthem to be, with a view of choking off others; but just then, though fewknew it, certain unfortunate speculations had strained his credit verybadly. Twenty-one thousand was a large sum, more than he could count onwith certainty unless he had time to raise more on the security of theproperty itself, even though part of it was his mortgage claim. But hewanted the property very badly--needed it, in fact. Who the deuce wasthis McGinity?

  And then, suddenly, he saw light. "McGinity" was the translation ofcertain hieroglyphics appended to letters he had received from theNorthern Airline. He had translated them into "McKinley," but withconsiderable doubt. So his competitor for possession of the Mackay ranchwas the Airline itself!

  So that was what he was up against! Mackay, somehow, must have gottenwind of his intentions, and himself entered into negotiations with therailway; and these must have reached a definite point.

  It was a difficult situation for Mr. Braden. He saw his dream of carvingup a choice townsite--of seeing it grow in value by leaps and bounds--goglimmering. He hated to drop out. But what was the use of going on?McGinity would bid up to whatever he thought the proposition worth, andnot a dollar more. More than that, if he, Braden, overtopped thatfigure, they would let him keep the land, and they would make a townsiteelsewhere. Mr. Braden was under no delusions. He had known landownerswho had held the mistaken belief that a strong corporation could beforced to adopt a certain location for a townsite merely because it wasthe best. The said landowners still owned the land, but it was not atown.

  "Twenty-one thousand!" the sheriff repeated. "Any advance? A veryvaluable property, gentlemen." He looked at Mr. Braden. That gentlemansadly shook his head. No, he was out of it. "Then," said the sheriff,"if there is no higher bid, I--"

  "Twenty-two thousand!"

  It was Chetwood, and the effect was explosive. Mr. Braden stared,open-mouthed. McGinity and Floyd turned and eyed him. Faith gasped,clutching Angus' arm.

  "Why--why," she whispered, "how can he--you told me he had lost all hismoney!"

  "So he told me. He must be running some sort of a blazer. Only, ofcourse, it won't go. It's foolish of him to try."

  The sheriff seemed to share Angus' view. Mr. Braden whispered to him. Hefrowned.

  "You know the conditions of sale, young man?"

  "I heard you state them."

  "You are able to meet them?"

  "May I point out," said Chetwood, "that you have not asked that questionof any previous bidder. Why favor me?"

  "Well--er--you see--" the sheriff was slightly embarrassed--"Iunderstand that you are working for Mr. Mackay."

  "Quite so. And what of it?"

  "A man who can pay twenty-two thousand for a ranch doesn't often work onit as a hired man," the sheriff pointed out.

  "It is absolutely none of your business, official or private, for whom,or for what, or at what I work," Chetwood retorted. "I make that bid,and I demand that you receive it."

  Faith laughed softly. Angus stared at his hired man.

  "I may tell you, Mr. Sheriff," the court voice of Judge Riley filled theroom, "that this gentleman is quite able to meet the conditions of salein any offer he may make."

  "Twenty-three thousand," said Mr. McGinity experimentally.

  "Twenty-four," Chetwood returned.

  Mr. McGinity turned to his friend. "Now what the devil is up? I'veraised Braden out. Who's this young fellow? And what's this about hisworking for Mackay?"

  "I'm an engineer and an honest man," Floyd returned. "This is your end,Mac. But if I were doing it, I'd get together with those boys, now thatthe old cuss is out of it."

  "I always said you had too much brains for an engineer," Mr. McGinityretorted. He crossed the room to Angus and bowed to Faith.

  "Suppose you tell me what the idea is?" he said. "Is this young fellowbidding for you?"

  "You know as much about it as I do," Angus confessed, and beckoned toChetwood. "What are you up to, anyway?" he demanded of the latter. "Ithought you were broke. You told me so."

  "I told you my income had stopped--temporarily," Chetwood replied. "Soit had. If you had ever said a word about money troubles I would havefixed them like a shot, but you never even mentioned 'em. So now I'mgoing to buy the ranch in."

  "How high will you go?" Mr. McGinity asked. "Hold on, now--wait aminute. I represent the Northern Airline, which is going to buildthrough here, and this property is
valuable to us. I'm prepared to gofairly high myself to get it. That means that we are prepared to pay theowner a good price. Now, instead of crazy bidding, can't we come to anarrangement?"

  "Have you any connection with Braden?" Chetwood asked.

  "Hell, no!" Mr. McGinity replied. "Didn't you just see me raise him out?And I can raise _you_ out, young man, if you won't act sensibly, unlessyou have a mighty big roll back of you."

  "Oh, no, you can't," Chetwood replied cheerfully. He drew McGinity toone side. "Because, you see," he explained, "I'm really bidding theproperty in for Mackay, though he doesn't know it. So, you see, I neverhave to put up real money at all, except enough to satisfy old Braden'sclaim, and technically satisfy the conditions of sale. I buy theproperty, hand stage money to Mackay, he hands it back to me--and thereyou are! The only real money is what Braden gets."

  "And suppose Mackay doesn't come through," Mr. McGinity speculatedwisely. "Suppose I forced you up--away up--and Mackay found that as aresult his ranch had brought a top-notch price which he was entitled tomost of; and suppose he stood pat and insisted on receiving it. Wherewould you get off at then?"

  Chetwood laughed. "Braden might do that. Mackay isn't that kind. We'refriends, and I'm going to marry his sister. Raise away, if you feel likeit."

  Mr. McGinity's eyes twinkled. "Not on your life," he said. "Thecombination is too many for me." The sheriff impatiently claimedrecognition. "I'm through, Mr. Sheriff. The last bid is good as far asI'm concerned."

  The sheriff looked at Mr. Braden, who shook his head. And thus theMackay ranch came into the nominal possession of Chetwood.

  Angus, throttling his pride, held out his hand.

  "You've got a good ranch," he said. "I'm glad it's you. If you marryJean it will be staying in the family, anyway. I'll be moving out assoon--"

  "You'll be doing nothing of the kind," Chetwood told him. "Do you thinkI'm such a dashed cad as that? I'm buying the ranch for you, of course.You can pay me what I'll pay Braden, when you like, and if you neverfeel like it nobody will worry."

  Angus stared at him dazedly. For the first time in years his eyes weremisty; but his innate pride still held.

  "It's good of you," he said. "Oh, it's _damned_ good of you, but--Ican't stand for it."

  "Afraid you'll jolly well have to, my boy," Chetwood grinned cheerfully."You can't help yourself, you know."

  "But I can't allow--"

  "Don't I tell you, you'll have to. Don't be such a bally ass, or strikeme pink if I don't punch your beastly head here and now! Can't you takea little help from a friend who would take it from you? Mrs. Angus, forheaven's sake make this lunatic listen to reason!"

  Faith laughed happily. "He wouldn't let _me_ help him," she said. "Givehim time, Mr. Chetwood."

  As Chetwood waited to comply with the necessary formalities Mr. McGinitytouched him on the arm.

  "I want to make a proposition to whoever owns that land--you or Mackay,"he said. "I'd rather make it to you, because I can see you know moreabout business than he does. The Airline isn't any philanthropicinstitution, of course, but we'll play fair with you and Mackay."

  "Thanks very much," said Chetwood, a twinkle in his eye.

  "Oh, I mean it," Mr. McGinity assured him. "You seem a pretty brightyoung fellow. If you haven't got too much money to take a good job, Ican place you in my department."

  "But you see," Chetwood returned, "I've already got a job with yourcompany."

  "What?" cried Mr. McGinity. "What kind of a con game is this? Whatdepartment are you in?"

  "I'm a director. Did you ever hear of Sir Eustace Chetwood?"

  Mr. McGinity gasped. "Are you trying to kid me? Sir Eustace Chetwood wasone of our English directors, but he's dead. And he was about eightyyears old."

  "Quite right," Chetwood nodded. "He died a few months ago, and by virtueof the shares in your corporation which he left to me, I was elected tofill his place. I'm his nephew, you see. As to the title, it'shereditary, and I can't help it."

  "Sir Eustace Chetwood!" gasped Mr. McGinity. "Good Lord!"

  "Well, I'm not using either title at present," Chetwood grinned. "Justkeep it dark, like a good fellow. I don't want to be plagued by a lot ofblighters who can't see me at all as a thirty-dollar ranch hand. My realfriends are just beginning to call me 'Bill'--and I like it. I say, Mr.McGinity, if you should ever call me 'Bill,' I'd call you 'Mac'."

  "Is that so, Bill?" said Mr. McGinity, who was a gentlemen of easyadjustments.

  "It are so, Mac!" Chetwood laughed. "See you later about thatproposition. Remember, you are to play fair."