Hidden Gold Page 13

  CHAPTER XIII

  INTO THE DEPTHS

  "Good Lord, Race! What's happened?"

  Senator Rexhill, on the next morning, surprised that Moran did not showup at the hotel, had gone in search of him, and was dumbfounded when heentered the office.

  Moran, in his desperate efforts to free himself, had upset the chairinto which he was tied, and being unable to right it again, had passedmost of the night in a position of extreme discomfort. Toward morning,his confinement had become positive agony, and he had inwardly raved atWade, the gag in his mouth making audible expression impossible, untilhe was black in the face.

  "My God, Race!" the Senator exclaimed, when, having cut the lashings andwithdrawn the gag, he saw his agent in a state bordering on collapse,"what has happened to you?" He helped the man to his feet and held himup.

  "My throat--dry--whiskey!" Moran gasped, and groaned as he clutched atthe desk, from which he slid into a chair, where he sat rubbing hislegs, which ached with a thousand pains.

  Rexhill found a bottle of whiskey and a glass on a shelf in the closet.He poured out a generous drink of the liquor and handed it to Moran,but the agent could not hold it in his swollen fingers. The Senatorpicked up the glass, which had not broken in its fall and, refilling it,held it to Moran's lips. It was a stiff drink, and by the time it wasrepeated, the agent was revived somewhat.

  "Now, tell me," urged Rexhill.

  Prepared though he was for an outburst of fury, he was amazed at thetorrent of blasphemous oaths which Moran uttered. He caught Wade's name,but the rest was mere incoherence, so wildly mouthed and so foul that hebegan to wonder if torture had unbalanced the man's mind. The expressionof Moran's eyes, which had become mere slits in his inflamed and puffyface, showed that for the time he was quite beyond himself. What withhis blued skin and distended veins, his puffed lips and slurred speech,he seemed on the brink of an apoplectic seizure. Rexhill watched himanxiously.

  "Come, come, man. Brace up," he burst out, at length. "You'll killyourself, if you go on that way. Be a man."

  The words seemed to have their effect, for the agent made a supremeeffort at the self-control which was seldom lacking in him. He appearedto seize the reins of self-government and to force himself into a stateof unnatural quiet, as one tames a frantic horse.

  "The safe!" he muttered hoarsely, scrambling to his feet.

  His stiffened legs still refused to function, however, and Rexhill,hastening to the safe, threw open the door. One glance at thedisordered interior told him the whole story. Moran watched feverishlyas he dragged the crumpled papers out on the floor and pawed throughthem.

  "Gone?"

  "Gone!"

  They looked at each other, a thin tide of crimson brightening thecongestion of Moran's visage, while Rexhill's face went ghastly white.With shaking fingers, the agent poured himself a third drink and tossedit down his throat.

  "It was Wade who tied you up?"

  Moran nodded.

  "Him and that--girl--the Purnell girl." Stirred more by the other'sexpression of contempt than by the full half pint of whiskey he hadimbibed, he crashed his fist down on the desk. "Mind what you say now,because, by God, I'm in no mood to take anything from you. He got thedrop on me, you understand. Let it go at that."

  "It's gone right enough--all gone." Rexhill groaned. "Why, he only needsto publish those plots to make this a personal fight between us andevery property owner in the valley. They'll tar and feather us, if theydon't kill us outright. It'll be gold with them--gold. Nothing else willcount from now on."

  "I'll get back at him yet!" growled Moran.

  "You'll...." The Senator threateningly raised his gorilla-like arms, butlet them drop helplessly again. "How did they get into the safe? Did youleave it open?"

  "Do you think I'm a fool?" Moran fixed his baleful eyes upon hisemployer, as he leaned heavily, but significantly, across the flat desk."Say, let's look ahead to to-morrow, not back to last night. Do youhear? I'll do the remembering of last night; you forget it!"

  Rexhill tried to subdue him with his own masterful gaze, but somehow thepower was lacking. Moran was in a dangerous frame of mind, and past thedominance of his employer. He had but one thought, that of vengeanceupon the man who had misused him, to which everything else had for thetime being to play second.

  "You talk like I let them truss me up for fun," he went on. "I did itbecause I had to, because I was looking into the muzzle of a six-shooterin the hands of a desperate man; that was why. Do you get me? And Idon't need to be reminded of it. No, by Heaven! My throat's as dry yetas a fish-bone, and every muscle in me aches like hell! I'll remember itall right, and _he'll_ pay. Don't you have any worries about that."

  Rexhill was sufficiently a captain of men to have had experience of suchmoods in the past, and he knew the futility of arguing. He carefullychose a cigar from his case, seated himself, and began to smoke.

  Moran, apparently soothed by this concession to his temper, and a bitashamed of himself, watched him for some moments in silence. When atlast he spoke, his tone was more conciliatory.

  "Have you heard from Washington?" he asked.

  "I got a telegram this morning, saying that the matter is underadvisement."

  "Under advisement!" Moran snorted, in disgust. "That means that they'llget the cavalry here in time to fire a volley over our graves--ashes toashes and dust to dust. What are you going to do about it?"

  Rexhill blew a huge mouthful of fragrant smoke into the air.

  "Frankly, Race, I don't think you're in a proper mood to talk."

  "You're right." Something in Moran's voice suggested the explosion of afire-arm, and the Senator looked at him curiously. "I'm through talking.We've both of us talked too damn much, and that's a fact."

  "I'll be obliged to you," the Senator remarked, "if you'll remember thatyou draw a salary from me and that you owe me a certain amount ofrespect."

  Moran laughed raucously.

  "Respect! I don't owe you a damn thing, Senator; and what you owe me youwon't be able to pay if you sit here much longer waiting for somethingto turn up. You'll be ruined, that's what you'll be--ruined!" He broughthis big hand down on the table with a thump.

  "By your own carelessness. Now, look here, Race, I've made allowancesfor you, because...."

  "You don't need to soft soap me, Senator; save that for your officeseekers." The agent was fast working himself into another passion. "I'venot ruined you, and you know it. A safe's a safe, isn't it? Instead ofruining you, I'm trying to save you. If you go broke, you'll do ityourself with your pap and sentiment. But if I am to pull your chestnutsout of the fire for you, you've got to give me a free hand. I've got tofight fire with fire."

  Rexhill wiped his glasses nervously, for despite his assumption of calm,his whole future swung upon the outcome of his Crawling Water venture.If he appeared calm, it was not because he felt so, but because theschooling of a lifetime had taught him that the man who keeps coolusually wins.

  "There's nothing to do but go on as we are headed now," he declared."Wade's discovery of our purpose is most unfortunate"--his voice shook atrifle--"but it can't be helped. In the legal sense, he has added to thelist of his crimes, and we have more against him than we ever had. Henow has three charges to face--murder, assault, and robbery. It restswith us whether he shall be punished by the courts for any of thethree."

  The Senator spoke emphatically in the effort to convince himself thathis statements were practically true, but he avoided Moran's eyes as hedid so. His show of optimism had little substance behind it, because nowthat his motives were likely to be bared to the public, he was too gooda lawyer not to realize how little standing he would have before a jury,in that section at least; of course, Wade must realize this equally welland feel fortified in his own position. Rexhill's chief hope had beenthat the support of the cavalry from Fort Mackenzie would enable him tocontrol the situation; but here, too, he was threatened by theunexpected hesitation of the authorities at Washington.

&
nbsp; Moran, however, was frankly contemptuous of the prospect of help fromthat source. He had never believed greatly in it, although at the timeit was first mentioned his enthusiasm for any plan of action hadinspired him with some measure of the Senator's confidence. Now that hislust of revenge made him intolerant of all opposition, he was thoroughlyexasperated by the telegram received from Washington, and had no faithin aid from such a quarter.

  "What if your cavalry doesn't come?" he demanded.

  "Then we must rely upon the Sheriff here to maintain the law that he issworn to support."

  "Bah! He's weakening now. He's not forgetting that he's to spend therest of his days in this town, after we've gone back East, or perhaps tohell. Who's to look after him, then, if he's got himself in bad with thefolks here? Senator"--Moran clumped painfully over to the safe andleaned upon it as he faced his employer--"it isn't cavalry that'll saveyou, or that old turkey buzzard of a sheriff either. I'm the man to doit, if anybody is, and the only way out is to lay for this man Wade andkidnap him." Rexhill started violently. "Kidnap him, and take him intothe mountains, and keep him there with a gun at his head, until he signsa quit-claim. I've located the very spot to hide him in--Coyote Springs.It's practically inaccessible, a natural hiding-place."

  Rexhill turned a shade or two paler as he nervously brushed some cigarashes from his vest and sleeve. He had already gone farther along theroad of crime than he felt to be safe, but the way back seemed even moredangerous than the road ahead. The question was no longer one of ethics,but purely of expediency.

  "We haven't time to wait on cavalry and courts," Moran went on. "I'mwilling to take the risk, if you are. If we don't take it, you know whatthe result will be. We may make our get-away to the East, or we _may_stop here for good--under ground. You have little choice either way. Ifyou get out of this country, you'll be down and out. Your name'll be abyword and you'll be flat broke, a joke and an object of contempt thenation over. And it's not only yourself you've got to think of; you'vegot to consider your wife and daughter, and how they'll stand povertyand disgrace. Against all that you've got a chance, a fighting chance.Are you game enough to take it?"

  All that Moran said was true enough, for Rexhill knew that if he failedto secure control of Crawling Water Valley, his back would be broken,both politically and financially. He would not only be stripped of hiswealth, but of his credit and the power which stood him in lieu ofprivate honor. He would be disgraced beyond redemption in the eyes ofhis associates, and in the bosom of his family he would find no solacefor public sneers. Failure meant the loss forever of his daughter'srespect, which might yet be saved to him through the glamour of successand the reflection of that tolerance which the world is always ready toextend toward the successful.

  "You are right," he admitted, "in saying that I have my wife anddaughter to consider, and that reminds me. I haven't told you that Helenoverheard our conversation about Wade, in my room, the other day." Herapidly explained her indignation and threat of exposure. "I don't meanto say that your suggestion hasn't something to recommend it," he summedup, "but if Wade were to disappear, and she felt that he had beeninjured, I probably could not restrain her."

  The agent leaned across the desk, leeringly.

  "Tell her the truth, that I found Wade here in this room with DorothyPurnell, at night; that they came here for an assignation, because itwas the one place in Crawling Water...."

  Rexhill got to his feet with an exclamation of disgust.

  "Well, say, then, that they came here to rifle the place, but that whenI caught them they were spooning. Say anything you like, but make herbelieve that it was a lovers' meeting. See if she'll care then to savehim."

  The Senator dropped heavily back into his chair without voicing theprotest that had been upon his tongue's end. He was quick to see that,contemptible though the suggestion was, it yet offered him a meanswhereby to save himself his daughter's respect and affection. The wholedanger in that regard lay in her devotion to Wade, which was responsiblefor her interest in him. If she could be brought to feel that Wade wasunworthy, that he had indeed wronged her, her own pride could be trustedto do the rest.

  "If I thought that Wade were the man to make her happy," Rexhill puffedheavily, in restraint of his excitement.

  "Happy? Him?" Moran's eyes gleamed.

  "Or if there was a shred of truth--but to make up such a story out ofwhole cloth...."

  "What's the matter with you, Senator? Why, I thought you were a masterof men, a general on the field of battle!" The agent leaned forwardagain until his hot, whiskey-laden breath fanned the other man's face.

  "I'm a father, Race, before I'm anything else in God's world."

  "But it's true, Senator. True as I'm speaking. Ask any one in CrawlingWater. Everybody knows that Wade and this Purnell girl are mad in lovewith each other."

  "Is that true, Race?"

  Rexhill looked searchingly into the inflamed slits which marked thelocation of the agent's eyes.

  "As God is my witness. It's the truth now, whatever he may have thoughtof Helen before. He's been making a fool of her, Senator. I've tried tomake her see it, but she won't. You'll not only be protecting yourself,but you'll do her a service." He paused as Rexhill consulted his watch.

  "Helen will be over here in a few minutes. I promised to take a walkwith her this morning."

  "Are you game?"

  "I'll do it, Race." Rexhill spoke solemnly. "We might as well fry forone thing as another." Grimacing, he shook the hand which the otheroffered him. "When will you start?"

  "Now," Moran answered promptly. "I'll take three or four men with me,and we'll hang around Wade's ranch until we get him. He'll probably benosing around the range trying to locate the gold, and we shouldn't havemuch trouble. When we've got him safe...." His teeth ground audibly uponeach other as he paused abruptly, and the sound seemed to cause theSenator uneasiness.

  "By the way, since I've turned near-assassin, you might as well tell mewho shot Jensen." Rexhill spoke with a curious effort. "If Wade getsyou, instead of you getting Wade, it may be necessary for me to know allthe facts."

  Moran answered from the window, whither he had stepped to get his hat,which lay on the broad sill.

  "It was Tug Bailey, Senator. Here comes Helen now. You needn't tell herthat I was tied up all night." He laid Wade's quirt on the desk. "Heleft that behind him."

  Rexhill grunted.

  "Yes, I will tell her," he declared sulkily, "and about the Jensenaffair, if I've got to be a rascal, you'll be the goat. Give Bailey somemoney and get him out of town before he tanks up and tells all heknows."

  Helen came in, looking very sweet and fresh in a linen suit, and was atfirst inclined to be sympathetic when she heard of Moran's plight,without knowing the source of it. Before she did know, the odor ofliquor on his breath repelled her. He finally departed, not at thebidding of her cool nod, but urged by his lust of revenge, which, evenmore than the whiskey, had fired his blood.

  "Intoxicated, isn't he? How utterly disgusting!"

  Her father looked at her admiringly, keenly regretting that he mustdispel her love dream. But he took some comfort from the fact that Wadewas apparently in love with another woman. The thought of this had beenenough to make him seize upon the chance of keeping all her affectionfor himself.

  "He's had a drink or two," he admitted, "but he needed them. He had ahard night. Poor fellow, he was nearly dead when I arrived. Wade handledhim very roughly."

  Helen looked up in amazement.

  "Did _Gordon_ do it? What was he doing here?" The Senator hesitated, andwhile she waited for his answer she was struck by a sense of humor inwhat had happened. She laughed softly. "Good for him!"

  "We think that he came here to--to see what he could find, partly,"Rexhill explained. "That probably was not his only reason. He wasn'talone."

  "Oh!" Her tone expressed disappointment that his triumph had not been asingle-handed one. "Did they tie him with these?" she asked, picking upone of the crumpled st
rips of linen, which lay on the floor. Suddenlyher face showed surprise. "Why--this is part of a woman's skirt?"

  Her father glanced at the strip of linen over his glasses.

  "Yes," he nodded. "I believe it is."

  "Somebody was here with Race?" Her voice was a blend of attemptedconfidence and distressing doubt.

  "My dear, I have painful news for you...."

  "With Gordon?" The question was almost a sob. "Who, father? DorothyPurnell?"

  Helen dropped into a chair, and going to her, the Senator placed hishands on her shoulders. She looked shrunken, years older, with the bloomof youth blighted as frost strikes a flower, but even in the first andworst moments of her grief there was dignity in it. In a measure RaceMoran had prepared her for the blow; he, and what she herself had seenof the partisanship between Dorothy and Gordon.

  "You must be brave, my dear," her father soothed, "because it isnecessary that you should know. Race came upon them here last night, ineach other's embrace, I believe, and with the girl's help, Wade got theupper hand."

  "Are you sure it was Gordon?" Her cold fingers held to his warm ones asin her childhood days, when she had run to him for protection.

  "His quirt is there on the desk."

  "But why should they have come here, father--here of all places? Doesn'tthat seem very improbable to you? That is what I can't understand. Whydidn't he go to her house?"

  "For fear of arrest, I suppose. Their reason for coming here, you havehalf expressed, Helen, because it offered them the safest refuge, atthat time of night, in Crawling Water. The office has not been used atnight since we rented it, and besides Moran has been doubly busy withme at the hotel. But I don't say that was their sole reason for cominghere. The safe had been opened, and doubtless their chief motive wasrobbery."

  She sprang to her feet and stood facing him with flaming cheeks, grievedstill but aroused to passionate indignation.

  "Father, do you stand there and tell me that Gordon Wade has not onlybeen untrue to me, but that he came here at night to steal from _you_;broke in here like a common thief?" Her breast heaved violently, and inher eyes shone a veritable fury of scorn.

  The Senator met her outburst gravely as became a man in his position. Hespoke with judicial gravity, which could leave no doubt of his ownconvictions, while conveying a sense of dignified restraint, temperedwith regret.

  "He not only did so, my dear, but he succeeded in escaping withdocuments of the greatest value to us, which, if prematurely published,may work us incalculable harm and subject our motives to the mostgrievous misconception."

  She lifted her head with so fine a gesture of pride that the Senator wasthrilled by his own paternity. Before him, in his child, he seemed tosee the best of himself, purified and exalted.

  "Then, if that is true, you may do with him what you will. I amthrough."

  He knew her too well to doubt that her renunciation of Wade had beentorn from the very roots of her nature, but for all that, when she hadspoken, she was not above her moment of deep grief.

  "My little girl, I know--I know!" Putting his arms around her, he heldher while she wept on his shoulder. "But isn't it better to find outthese things now, in time, before they have had a chance to really wreckyour happiness?"

  "Yes, of course." She dried her eyes and managed to smile a little."I--I'll write to Maxwell to-day and tell him that I'll marry him. Thatwill please mother."

  It pleased the Senator, too, for it meant that no matter what happenedto him, the women of his family would be provided for. He knew thatyoung Frayne was too much in love to be turned from his purpose by anymisfortune that might occur to Helen's father.