The Award of Justice; Or, Told in the Rockies: A Pen Picture of the West

Van Dorn laughed; “Well, of the two, I should prefer your brother’s form of lunacy to yours; if I ever was to be in love, I should want the misery over as quickly as possible.”

As Houston and his friend, having made a brief call at the cabin, rose to take their leave, the former observed Jack watching Rutherford’s face with a degree of interest unusual for him to manifest in a stranger.

“I want you and my friend, Rutherford, to know each other the little time he will be here,” he said, addressing Jack, “for though I have never known what it was to have a brother in reality, he seems to me to more nearly fill that position than any one I have known, and I have told him of your kindness and assistance, and the strange bond that has seemed to unite us from the first, though we met as strangers, so he naturally wishes to meet you.”

There was a peculiar quiver of the lips under the heavy, black beard, as Jack replied, in deep, full tones, “Mr. Rutherford’s face carries with it its own recommendation, and the fact that he is as a brother to yourself will insure him a double welcome here as often as he pleases to come during his stay.”

Houston passed onward into the outer room, pausing to chat with Mike, while Morton Rutherford lingered, and extending his hand to Jack, said in low tones:

“I have another reason for wishing to meet you. From what Lyle has told me, I know you to have been, until very recently, her only friend, and to you, as to her friend, and perhaps, in one sense, her guardian, I wish to state that I love her, and have been so fortunate as to win her love in return; and that I hope before very long, my home will be hers.”

“Yes, I know,” Jack responded, briefly.

“What! has she already told you?” Rutherford asked in surprise.

“Only unconsciously; but I read soon after your coming, that her heart was no longer her own.”

Then grasping Rutherford’s hand warmly, he added, in tones vibrating with some deep emotion.

“You have chosen better than you know. I believe I can trust her and her happiness in your hands. God bless you both! and may He bless you in proportion to your love and fidelity toward her!”

CHAPTER XXXIX

The following day, Mr. Blaisdell suddenly made his appearance at the camp, accompanied by Mr. Rivers and a mining expert who had come out in the interests of a Chicago firm, looking for good paying investments. Houston had received no word of their coming, and the first intimation which he had of their arrival was the sight of the three gentlemen, as he approached the house at dinner time.

“How are you, Houston?” said Mr. Blaisdell, pausing in his walk up and down before the house, and extending his hand, “How’s the work progressing?”

“Finely,” replied Houston, “the output is steadily increasing, week by week.”

“Keeps you pretty busy, I suppose? Well, I hope we can give you a little help before long; we’ve located Barden at last, and he starts for the west next week. Let me introduce you to Mr. Parsons, a mining expert from Chicago; Mr. Parsons, this is Mr. Houston, our general superintendent.”

Houston exchanged greetings with the stranger, and with Mr. Rivers, the latter watching him closely, though saying very little.

Dinner was served as quickly as possible, as Mr. Parsons was limited for time, and was to return to Silver City on the evening train. Most of the conversation at the table was on mines and mining, Mr. Blaisdell trying to impress each one present, Mr. Parsons in particular, with his extensive knowledge, both theoretical and practical, on all that pertained to the subject, as well as with a sense of the immense value of the properties owned by the company.

“Mr. W. E. Cameron, of New York, owns some very valuable mines out here, I understand,” said Mr. Parsons casually, his innocent remark producing rather a startling effect upon the minds of his listeners, though they, one and all, succeeded in preserving a calm exterior.

“He has an interest in some very fine properties,” replied Mr. Blaisdell blandly, though with a visible contracting of the muscles about the mouth, “you are acquainted with Mr. Cameron, I presume?”

“Oh, no, on the contrary, I never even met the gentleman, but he is extensively known among the leading business houses of Chicago, and he was pointed out to me, the day I came away, as the owner of some of the finest mines in this locality,” Mr. Parsons explained, thereby carrying consternation to the heart of every one present.

“Did I understand you to say that Mr. Cameron was in Chicago?” inquired Mr. Blaisdell, while Mr. Rivers’ restless eyes were at once on the alert.

“Certainly, he was there the day I left; at least, a gentleman with whom I happened to be talking about western investments, pointed him out to me, and cited him as the owner of western properties.”

“Ah, yes, did you hear anything said as to whether he was coming this way?”

“Nothing, nothing whatever, except what I have stated.”

“It’s all right,” said Mr. Rivers, speaking for the first time, and in his quick, incisive way; he feared Mr. Blaisdell had betrayed his anxiety; “all right, only we would like to know his whereabouts, as it will be necessary to wire him in a day or two, regarding some ore shipments. Can you give us the hotel where he was stopping?”

“I am very sorry that I cannot oblige you, but I have not the least idea where he was located; I simply saw him passing on the street.”

“It is of no consequence,” replied Mr. Blaisdell, with assumed indifference, “we can of course ascertain his present address from the New York house; it will take a little more time, that is all. We had better proceed to the mines at once, if Mr. Parsons is ready.”

When they had left and Haight was on his way to the mills, the four young men held a few moments’ consultation outside the house.

“By Jingo!” exclaimed Ned Rutherford, “it looks as though old Buncombe was going to get on to our surprise party that we’re planning for him! What are you fellows going to do about it?”

“Well,” said Van Dorn. “I’m not sure whether this is going to interfere with our arrangements or not; what do you think, Everard? will the company ‘smell a rat’ anywhere?”

“They are evidently alarmed at the possibility of Mr. Cameron’s coming out here, but there is nothing yet to arouse their suspicions against us, so I do not think it will interfere materially with our plans at present. They will be able to learn nothing of my uncle’s movements from the New York house, as he will have forestalled them there. He had but just reached Chicago when this Parsons left, and as he and Mr. Whitney wished, if possible, to remain there a few days, to consult with a legal firm who are personal friends of theirs, I think it best, in case this company remains quiet, to take no action yet for two or three days; but if the officers of the company begin to appear suspicious, or as if they were trying to cover their tracks, the sooner we telegraph for our party, the better; get them here as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, that will be best,” said Morton Rutherford, “if their suspicions are aroused, we cannot be too expeditious, for they will be desperate when they find themselves cornered.”

“We must hold ourselves in readiness to act promptly,” Houston added, “probably within twenty-four hours we will be able to decide which course to pursue.”

Houston went to his work determined to keep a close watch on the movements of Blaisdell and Rivers. A couple of hours later, however, the three men entered the mill where he was engaged superintending the weighing of some ore; Mr. Rivers went at once to Haight’s little private office, while Blaisdell approached him with the expert.

“Mr. Houston,” he said, “just take Mr. Parsons through the mills and entertain him for the next half hour. Mr. Rivers and myself will be engaged about that length of time.”

Houston complied with the request, and in a very short time discovered that Mr. Parsons’ knowledge of metallurgy and mineralogy was exceedingly limited, but that in exact proportion to his own ignorance, he had been profoundly impressed by the knowledge which Mr. Blaisdell had aired for his especial benefit, and the parrot-like way in which he repeated some of the expressions which Mr. Blaisdell kept as his “stock in trade,” was very amusing.

Meanwhile Houston was deeply interested in the private meeting held in Haight’s little dingy room, as he felt certain that some issues were being discussed and decisions reached that would, in their results, be of the greatest importance to him, and he awaited the reappearance of the general manager and secretary with considerable expectancy.

He was not disappointed; a glance at their faces revealed that the subjects under discussion had not been pleasant. Mr. Blaisdell’s face was white, and set in hard, determined lines, while that of his companion was flushed with anger, and his cunning, crafty eyes were full of suspicion, as they glanced repeatedly in Houston’s direction.

“Mr. Parsons,” said Mr. Blaisdell, “we will have to ask you to excuse Mr. Houston, as we have a little business with him, and if you will step over there in the office and sit down, we will have completed our business in half or three-quarters of an hour; by that time the team will be here, in readiness to take us to the train.”

After a few moments of desultory conversation about the work which Houston knew to be only preliminary, during which Mr. Rivers moved about in a nervous, restless manner, Mr. Blaisdell said:

“Mr. Houston, we hear some rather strange reports concerning your conduct lately; your actions have certainly been highly censurable, and the least that can be said is that you have exceeded your authority here in a very marked degree.”

“In what respect have I exceeded my authority?” demanded Houston, folding his arms, with an expression on his face that made the general manager regret that he had begun the encounter; but it was too late to retreat, besides, Rivers was watching him!

“In your manner of discharging the duties assigned to you; you have taken advantage of your position in the most reprehensible and unworthy way, and have overstepped the bounds when you had no right whatever to do so.”

“I shall have to ask you to be a little more explicit, Mr. Blaisdell,” Houston replied.

“Why don’t you come to the point, Blaisdell?” said Rivers impatiently. “What’s the use of beating about the bush? The long and the short of it is just this,” he added, turning to Houston, “you have been taking upon yourself what did not concern you, prying around, late at night, in mines with which you had nothing whatever to do, in company with miners who had no more business there than you had.”

“To what mine do you refer?” asked Houston, with exasperating persistency.

“I mean the Lucky Chance, and you know it,” retorted Rivers angrily.

“Mr. Rivers,” said Houston, in a tone that Blaisdell had heard on a former occasion, and with a steel-like glitter in his eyes that was anything but attractive to either of the gentlemen present; “Mr. Blaisdell knows, if you do not, that since my first coming here, whatever kind of work has been assigned to me, I have thoroughly familiarized myself with it. When I was given charge of these mines I had reason to suppose that each and every mine owned by the company was included under my supervision, and if there were any which the officers of the company, for reasons of their own, wished excluded from such supervision, it was their business so to inform me. I have not been so informed. Mr. Blaisdell himself took me into that mine, and nothing was said to lead me to suppose that that mine was any exception to those placed in my charge, and your informant, if he chose so to do, could tell you that I have inspected in like manner each and every mine under my supervision, taking with me one or both of the same men, when the mine happened to be one with which I was not familiar.”

“His intentions were all right,” interposed Mr. Blaisdell, “he was over-zealous, that was all.”

“Intentions be damned!” said Mr. Rivers, angrily, “he was altogether too officious, and I won’t have it; people in my employ have to know their place and keep it.”

“That is all very well,” said Houston, in cutting tones, “but I will not ask you, Mr. Rivers, or any one connected with this company, to tell me my place.”

“What!” exclaimed Rivers in a rage, “let me tell you, young man, it is to your interest to be a little careful.”

“Is it?” answered Houston scornfully; “Mr. Rivers,” he added, advancing toward that gentleman, “why don’t you discharge me? Wouldn’t that be to your interest?”

Mr. Rivers saw he had gone too far; “No,” he answered quickly, though sullenly, “we have said nothing about discharging you; you are too efficient a man for us to lose.”

“No, Houston,” added Mr. Blaisdell, “we wouldn’t think of discharging you, you’re too good a man.”

“No, I’m not too good a man,” replied Houston, facing them both with a look which they understood; “you don’t discharge me simply because,–you don’t dare to!” and he emphasized the last words with a heavy blow upon a rude desk standing near.

Blaisdell and Rivers exchanged glances, and for a moment were speechless. The former was the first to recover himself.

“Come, Houston,” he said, in a conciliatory tone, “we won’t have any more words; we all understand one another pretty well, and there’ll be no more complaints or trouble. You go on pretty much as you have done, and it will be all right. It’s time we were getting back now, but I’ll be out here next week with Barden, and we’ll fix things up satisfactory all ’round.”

“When will he get here?” asked Houston.

“The latter part of next week.”

Houston thought an instant, his party would be there the first or middle of the week.

“Very well,” he replied, “I tender my resignation now, to take effect when he comes.”

“Oh, no, Houston, no indeed, why, we couldn’t think of such a thing,” said Blaisdell, really alarmed, while Rivers maintained a sullen silence.

“I am not particularly anxious to hold this position, I can assure you; there is very little in it but hard work.”

“Oh, well, well, you stay by us a while longer, and we’ll take you into the company yet.”

“No,” said Houston, “it would be no use taking me into the company, I wouldn’t know my place, or keep it,” and with that parting shot, he turned and left them.

“Blaisdell,” said Rivers, his face relaxing for a moment into a grim smile, “it’s just as I told you, your smart young man is too smart for you. It’s my opinion we’ve caught a tartar;–we’re afraid to keep him, and we don’t dare let him go.”

CHAPTER XL

As Houston, on the following morning, in the execution of his daily round of duties, happened to be passing the Yankee Boy mine, his attention was arrested by a quantity of powder deposited near the mouth of the shaft, which the workmen were preparing to take below.

“What is the meaning of this?” he inquired sternly. “Who has given any orders for this powder to be brought here?”

“Them was the boss’s orders, sir,” replied one of the men, respectfully.

“The boss? whom do you mean?”

“Begging your pardon, sir, I meant the boss as was up here yisterday; Mr. Haight, he told me this morning as these was the orders he give him.”

“Haight,” said Houston, as, a few moments later, he entered the office of that individual, “did Mr. Blaisdell leave orders yesterday for powder to be taken over to the Yankee Boy mines?”

“Yes,” replied Haight, with his usual smile, “and I intended to have spoken to you about it this morning, but I forgot it.”

“What is his object? any blasting to be done?”

“Yes, we had quite a long consultation together yesterday, he and Rivers and I, and we decided that it would pay to do some extensive drifting in those mines, and a good deal of that rock will have to be blasted.”

“How soon is this blasting to begin?”

“Well, I can’t say exactly, just how soon, probably within the next seven or eight days.”

“In what direction is the drifting to extend?”

Haight looked slightly surprised but replied: “We’re a little undecided about that, just what course to take; Rivers was for one thing, and Blaisdell and I for another. After they have blasted a ways, we can tell something from the character of the rock in what direction it will be best to run the drift.”

After a few more questions, some of which Haight did not answer so readily as might have been expected, Houston left him. He did not proceed at once to the building where Van Dorn was at work, but first returned to the mines, where he discovered that the powder was not only being stored in the Yankee Boy group, but also in the Lucky Chance, and one or two others of the surrounding mines. A little later he made an errand to that part of the mills where Van Dorn was to be found, and quietly calling him to one side, related to him what he had discovered, and his talk with Haight.

Van Dorn was more familiar with mines, their methods of operation, and the rules governing their underground workings, than Houston, and he immediately exclaimed:

“By George! that fellow is a fool, Everard, or else he was simply ‘stuffing’ you; to drift in the direction he mentioned would be a useless expenditure of time and money, there would be nothing in it, it is utterly absurd!”

“I mistrusted as much,” said Houston, “and I have my own opinion as to the meaning of all this, but I wished to get your idea of the matter. What do you think of it?”

“It looks to me,” said Van Dorn slowly, “as though they were making preparations to blow up these mines, at a moment’s warning.”

“That,” said Houston, “was just the conviction that forced itself upon my mind when I saw that powder, though I will admit I had never once thought of their resorting to such measures as that.”

“It’s about the only thing left for them to do, by George! after the shape in which they have got things; their idea probably would be, in the event of Mr. Cameron’s coming, to destroy in this way all the evidence, as they think, existing against them. It shows pretty conclusively that they have no suspicions of us, for if they knew the evidence in our possession they would blow us up rather than the mines. You will telegraph at once for Mr. Cameron, will you not?”

“At once; we must get him here as quickly and as quietly as we can; before they put their plans into action, if possible.”

“That is the thing to do; they probably will take no action unless they hear of his coming. We ought to get a dispatch off before night.”

“We will,” Houston replied, with quiet decision.

“How will you manage it? It will look rather suspicious for you or me to leave our work and go down to the Y with a message.”

“Give Morton our dispatch and cipher book, and he will attend to it better than you or I, for he is an expert operator.”

“By George! that’s so, I had forgotten it; he learned telegraphy there at college just to amuse himself, and had a battery in his room; well, that’s fortunate, he will be just the one for us.”

“It is nearly noon,” said Houston, consulting his watch, “we will see Morton at the house, and arrange the message between us, and he will send it immediately.”

After dinner, there was a brief consultation in Houston’s room with the result that the following dispatch was formulated, written in cipher, and addressed to Mr. Whitney, at Chicago, the attorney from New York, accompanying Mr. Cameron:

“Come at once, no delay; go to Arlington Hotel, Silver City; keep dark, do not register. Van Dorn will meet you at hotel.”

Houston realized that they were now rapidly approaching the final denouement,–the closing act of the drama which might yet prove a tragedy,–and as he placed the folded slip of paper in Morton Rutherford’s hand, he said with a sigh:

“This is the beginning of the end.”

CHAPTER XLI

As Morton Rutherford’s fingers touched the key of the little instrument that was to send forth that fateful message, it was the unconscious touching of a secret spring which was to set in motion a succession of events of which he little dreamed.

He remained at the station until the answer came back over the wires:

“Leave Chicago to-night; will follow instructions to the letter.”

This was on Saturday. On Tuesday the expected party would reach Silver City, where they were to be met by Van Dorn, who would furnish them all details and accompany them on the evening train to the Y, from which point Houston and Morton Rutherford would convey them by team to the mining camp.

From Saturday until Tuesday only! but those intervening days were full of a strange excitement for the little group of friends who were in the secret, and there was that constant sense of expectancy, combined with an alert watchfulness, which kept the nerves tense and rigid, and rendered the mind unusually clear and active.

On Monday, Van Dorn left for Silver City, his errand ostensibly being to replace the broken portions of the machinery, now nearly finished, which were necessary for its completion.

All felt that the climax to which they had looked forward was now very near, and Lyle, who perhaps realized the situation the most keenly of any, was restless and excited, something very unusual for her.

Her search, thus far unsuccessful, had not been abandoned, and as she sat in the little porch on that particular afternoon, idle because she could not fix her attention upon book or work, it seemed as if the years of her early life among the mountains stood out with more than usual distinctness. Among other trifling objects, there was suddenly recalled to her memory a box which used always to stand in Mrs. Maverick’s little bed-room, and which had looked wonderfully attractive to her childish eyes on account of a flowered red and green paper with which it was covered. Once, overcome with infantile curiosity, she had tried to open it, and had received a severe whipping therefor. She could remember it very distinctly now, a box about eighteen inches square, with no fastening, but always securely tied with a stout cord. Late years it had been removed to the little attic and she had forgotten it. Where was it now? She had not seen it for months, or was it years? What could it have contained?

Miss Gladden was occupied with a new magazine. Morton and Ned Rutherford had gone out for a stroll among the rocks. Quietly Lyle slipped up-stairs, and going to the dark, dusty attic, began searching for the object so suddenly recalled to mind.

She could find no trace of it, however, and had about concluded that it must have been destroyed, when her attention was arrested by a pile of old clothing and rubbish on the floor in a particularly dark corner, behind some large boxes. A slight examination revealed that there was some solid substance underneath. Hastily overturning the rubbish, her eyes descried in the dim light the identical red and green papered box familiar to her childhood.

With an exclamation of joy she dragged it forth from its hiding place, and going over to the one tiny window, covered with dust and cobwebs, she sat down with the newly found treasure, first arranging a pile of old bedding as a screen between herself and the door, to preclude all possibility of her whereabouts being discovered.

With fingers trembling with excitement, she undid the fastenings of the heavy cord and slowly lifted the cover, not knowing exactly what she expected or hoped to find, but certain that the key for which she had searched was close at hand.

Within the box lay a large parcel wrapped in a newspaper, worn and yellow with age, and pinned to the parcel was a letter, addressed in a cramped, almost illegible hand:

“To Lyle,to be read after my death.”

Lyle recognized the writing,–it was Mrs. Maverick’s, whose educational advantages, though exceedingly limited, were yet superior to those of her husband, in that she could read and write, though she had little idea of the rules of grammar or orthography.

Lyle unpinned the letter and turned it over curiously in her hands for a moment; then she laid it aside, saying to herself:

“I will first see what this package contains, and will probably open that later.”

She lifted the parcel and began removing the paper wrappings, which burst like tissue and dropped in pieces, leaving a mass of fine cambric and dainty laces and embroideries, from which was exhaled a perfume, faint and subtle, and yet which recalled to Lyle so vividly the memories of that long-ago forgotten time, that she seemed like one awakening from a long oblivion to the scenes of a once familiar life. For a moment, she grew faint and dizzy, and, closing her eyes, leaned against the wall for support, while she tried to grasp the vision that seemed just ready to open up before her. But it passed, and with a sigh she opened her eyes, her gaze falling on the contents of the package which had fallen open.