Hidden Gold Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  A MEETING AND A PARTING

  Had some one of Gordon Wade's multitude of admirers in the East seen himas he stood looking out over his Wyoming ranch, he might have recognizedthe true cowboy composure with which the ranchman faced the comingstorm, but he would not have recognized the stripling who had wonscholastic and athletic honors at Princeton a few short years before,and who had spent a year after graduating in aimless travel and recklessadventure.

  After flitting rapidly and at random almost all over the habitableglobe, he had returned to his home in New York with some thought ofsettling down there, but the old family mansion was empty excepting forthe servants, and his sense of loneliness and sorrow for the loved oneswho were no longer there to greet him, drove him on speedily and heturned toward the West to explore his own country last of all, as somany other travelers do.

  Attracted by the surpassing beauty of the country, he had lingered inWyoming long enough to feel fascination of the ranch life that was thento be found in all its perfection in the wilder part of that State, andrealizing that he had found the precise location and vocation thatsuited him, he had converted his modest fortune into cash, and investedall in the Double Arrow Ranch.

  But on his way thither, he had stopped in Chicago, and there he had comeface to face with Romance.

  Before he had gone a dozen steps after getting off the train, some onedealt him a mighty blow between the shoulders, that well nigh sent himspinning. Before he could recover himself, he was caught from behind andhurled headlong into a taxicab.

  "I've heard of Western hospitality before," he said, calmly, before hecould see who his assailant was, "but you seem to be hard up forguests."

  "No," said his college chum, George Stout, grinning happily as heclambered into the taxi, "but I wasn't taking chances; somebody elsemight have seen you first."

  Followed three feverish days and nights; then as they sat in pajamas inStout's apartment, Wade said: "I don't imagine there is anything more tosee or do in this hectic city of yours, and I am free to say I don'tlike it; I think I'll move on."

  "Not yet," said Stout, with the grin that endeared him to everybody thatever met him. "You've only seen the outside edges so far. To-night youare going to break into society."

  "Do they have society here?" asked Wade.

  "Well, they call it that," still grinning, "anyhow you'll be interested,not to say amused. The game is new as yet, but they go through themotions, and Oh, boy, how lavish they are! You'll see everything moneycan buy this evening, and probably meet people you wouldn't be likelyto run across anywhere else.

  "You're bidden to appear, sir, at the ornate mansion of a Senator of theUnited States--the Senator, perhaps, I should say, I've secured theinvitation, and Mrs. Rexhill will never recognize me again if you don'tgo."

  "Would that be serious?"

  "Very serious. I am counsel for one of the Senator's companies."

  "And does that imply social obligation?"

  "It does with Mrs. Rexhill."

  "Oh, very well, I'll go anywhere once, but who is Mrs. Rexhill? Isuppose, of course, she is the Senator's wife, but who is she insociety? I never heard of her."

  "You wouldn't; it isn't what she is, it is what she wants to be. Youmust not laugh at her; she is doing the best she can. You'll admit onething readily enough when you see her. She is probably the handsomestwoman of her age in Chicago, and she isn't more than forty. Where theSenator found her, I can't say, but she was his wife when he made hisfirst strike in Denver, and I will say to his credit that he has alwaysbeen a devoted husband."

  "I'm glad to hear something to his credit," said Wade dryly. "Thegeneral impression I've gathered from reading the newspapers lately,hasn't been of the most exalted sort."

  "Oh, well," replied Stout, and his habitual grin faded away as he spoke."A man in public life always makes enemies, and the Senator has plentyof them. It almost seems sometimes that he has more enemies thanfriends, and yet he has certainly been a very successful man, not onlyin politics, but in business. He has more irons in the fire than any oneelse I know, and somehow or other he seems to put everything through. Idoubt if he could do so well if he was not at the same time a politicalpower."

  "Yes," said Wade, still more dryly. "I have heard the two factsmentioned together."

  "Come, come," said Stout, more earnestly than he was in the habit ofspeaking, "you mustn't put too much faith in what the newspapers say. Iknow how they talk about him in the other party, but I happen to knowhim pretty well personally, and there is a good side to him as I supposethere is to everybody. Anyhow, he pays me well for my professionalservices, and I have seen nothing thus far that leads me to be disloyalto him."

  It seemed to Wade's sensitive ear that his friend was speaking with alarge mental reservation, but wisely reflecting that the matter did notconcern him, he said no more, and when evening came, he went, willinglyenough, to make the acquaintance of the man who was then counted as oneof the greatest political powers in the country. Nor had he anypremonition that in the near future he and his host of the evening wouldbe engaged in a life and death struggle.

  Of all that, however, there was no present indication whatever. On thecontrary, the great man welcomed him with all the suavity of manner forwhich he was equally as famous as he was for the over-bearing rudenesshe often displayed when his will was disputed. This latter trait had wonfor him the nickname of the Czar of American Politics; but he was anadroit politician, not lacking in courtesy to guests in his own house.Moreover, he was keen in his appraisal of men and quick to see that aman of Wade's type would be more valuable to him as an ally than as afoe.

  Accordingly, he presented the young aristocrat to Mrs. Rexhill, whoopenly showed her delight in meeting one of such distinguishedappearance, and with a great display of cordiality, she introduced himto her daughter Helen.

  "It is her coming-out party, Mr. Wade," she said, gushingly, "and youmust do all you can to make it a happy occasion."

  One glance at the beautiful girl who stood before him was enough todetermine Wade that her evening should be as happy as he could make it.The glaring ostentation of the house and its equipment had offended hisfastidious taste when he entered, and the sight of the really handsome,but vulgarly overdressed and richly be-jeweled mother, had made himshudder inwardly, but when he looked into Helen's eyes, he forgot allhis first impressions and imagined himself in Fairyland for theremainder of the evening.

  An older head than his might easily have been turned and a wiser manbewildered by the tender glances of the charming girl who frankly methis advances half way, being as much impressed by his appearance as hewith hers, and showing carelessness equal to his in regard to thecomment they excited among the other guests. One thing that HelenRexhill had never learned at school, or from the parents who had doneall that could be done to spoil her, was to conceal her feelings. Justnow she felt no inclination to do it, and she gave Wade dance afterdance, with reckless disregard of her engagements and of theill-concealed anger of some of the men she threw over with uttercarelessness of social obligation.

  Wade saw it clearly enough, but the preference she showed for him was soflattering as to make him indifferent, even had he considered himselfresponsible. He was therefore amused rather than exultant when man afterman came up to claim a dance, only to be told "I just promised this oneto Mr. Wade."

  One such there was, who took his rebuff exceeding ill. Instead ofretiring as the others had done, he stepped up closer to the girl andsaid rudely, "That's all very well, Helen, but you promised me first,and I hold you to it."

  And he looked contemptuously at Wade who had started in surprise at hiswords, and had stiffened himself instinctively, as if to interfere, butwho controlled himself instantly and kept silent despite hisinclination.

  A moment later he was glad he had done so. Helen's eyes flashed and shestraightened her form proudly as she spoke.

  "Did I really promise you, Race Moran? If I did, I have forgotte
n it,and anyhow, I am going to sit this dance out with Mr. Wade in theconservatory."

  Race Moran, as she called him, was a handsome enough man, though ratherflashy in appearance. But the evil look that came quickly on his face,no less than his huge and burly build, indicated that he would have beenmore at home in a barroom or a street fight, than where he was. For justa moment he seemed about to say more, but apparently thought better ofit, and turning away with what sounded like a muttered oath, he walkedtoward the Senator, who stood at the other side of the room.

  "I've made an enemy for you, Mr. Wade," said Helen, half laughingly andhalf seriously, as she led the way to the conservatory, closely followedby her eager escort.

  "Well," said Wade lightly, "they say a man is poor, indeed, who hasn't afew enemies. I don't know that one more or less is of great importance,but it is well to know something about them. Who is the gentleman?"

  "I hardly think you would call him a gentleman," said Helen, "though hethinks he's one; I wouldn't tolerate him a moment, only on my father'saccount. Dad calls him a political heeler, and says he is very useful."

  "He ought to be that," said Wade, smiling; "I'd hardly call himornamental."

  "Indeed he isn't," said Helen, pouting prettily, "and he presumes toomuch on Dad's favor. He actually persecutes me with his attentions, butyou know a politician's daughter has to put up with a good deal,sometimes."

  "I don't think you need to suffer much," said Wade, gallantly. "You willalways find admirers enough to stand between you and any trouble you mayhave. I rather think there is one of them coming this way at the moment.I shall certainly take pleasure in recognizing Mr. Moran as an enemy,but is this likely to be another one?"

  "Oh, no," said Helen, laughingly, as an effeminate looking young mancame up, evidently in search of her.

  "I beg pardon, Miss Helen," he said, with a bow that seemed to includeWade, politely enough, in the apology, "But your mother asked me to findyou. She wants you to meet some new guests who have just arrived."

  "Oh, bother," said Helen carelessly. "She can look after them for awhile. Tell her I'll be with her by-and-by," and she turned back toWade, paying no further attention to the luckless messenger, whodeparted, hiding his chagrin as best he could, though not verysuccessfully.

  After he had gone, she said, "No, I don't think Maxwell Frayne is likelyto be an enemy; at least, not one that you need fear. He is a gentleman,though he is too insipid to interest me."

  "And you think Moran is a man to fear," asked Wade, trying to speakgravely, but showing amusement in spite of himself.

  "I don't believe you fear the devil," said Helen, with open admiration,"but Race Moran can be very dangerous, and I feel sure he will try toinjure you, if he ever finds a chance."

  "Well in that case he will at least be interesting," said Wade, lightly.He would have been amazed if he had realized at the time how propheticthe girl's words were.

  For the moment, however, he had little thought of peril and adventuresto come. The time, the girl and the place, were all at hand, and heplunged headlong into a complication that kept him for weeks in Chicago,strongly inclined to stay permanently, yet reluctant to settle in a cityso little to his liking, when the great out-doors was calling to him sourgently.

  While the petals of the passion flower were unfolding so rapidly in theconservatory, Race Moran had taken the Senator to the latter's privateroom where they had had many secret conferences before. He had done thegreat man favors in New York where he was a valuable cog in thepolitical machine, while the Senator was still a newcomer in the field,and with accurate judgment he had foreseen that Rexhill would be awinner.

  Quick to see opportunities, he had cultivated the latter's acquaintanceand courted his favor until he had become the Senator's most trustedadherent, and was admitted to the closest intimacy, so that he hadbecome a constant visitor in the Rexhill home, and had definitelydetermined in his own mind, to become one of the family. He knew wellenough that Helen disliked him, but his ideas of women had been gainedfrom association with a class that is easily dominated, and he wasconfident of his own powers, which, in fact, were very considerable.

  The Senator was not blind to the other's purpose, but though he was farfrom approving it, having other ideas concerning the daughter heidolized, he had not sought to discourage Moran, nor did he intend to.He would let him go on until a crisis should come, and in the meantime,Moran had not declared himself.

  Helen's insolence at the door of the conservatory, however, had stungMoran, and as soon as he had the Senator in seclusion, he broke out.

  "Who is that puppy Helen has on a string to-night?" he demanded roughly.

  But the Senator could overlook rudeness when it suited his purpose to doso.

  "I wouldn't call him a puppy exactly," he said, pleasantly enough; "heis a good deal younger than you and I, but he comes of pretty good stockin your town, Moran, and Stout tells me he has distinguished himselfalready in two or three ways. I reckon he'd be a pretty good friend tohave, if he ever takes an interest in politics."

  "Oh, I know the Wade family all right," said Moran impatiently; "theybelong to the silk stockings, but we have our own way of dealing withthat kind in New York, and I'm able to do the same thing anywhere else,if I have to. Maybe I will have to if he comes between me and Helen.Senator, I want to marry that girl myself. I ain't asking your consent,exactly, for me and her will be likely to do what we want to, anyhow,but I'd a heap rather have you favor the match."

  That was almost too much, but the Senator knew his man and also knewhow valuable he was. There was no sense in breaking with him until itwas unavoidable, so he still spoke pleasantly, though he had flushedwith anger for a moment.

  "Yes, I reckon you and Helen will do as you like about it, especially asHelen likes. It was sort of decent of you to speak to me first, butthere doesn't seem to be anything particular for me to say till you findout what Helen really thinks."

  "Oh, I'll find that out, all right," said Moran, boastfully. "But thisWade person better look out; I might have him run into the river somenight, if he pokes his nose in too far."

  "I'd go easy on that, if I were you," said the Senator laughingheartily, "a dead Wade might interfere with your plans worse than a liveone."

  "Oh, of course," replied Moran, refusing to laugh. "I talk foolish withmy mouth sometimes, when I'm mad, but all the same, he'd better lookout."

  "Now I wonder," said the Senator thoughtfully, after the other had lefthim, "how long it will be before he does find out, and how serious itwill be. He's hit pretty hard, but I will have to keep him along someway or other; I can't afford to lose him."

  And he sat musing over his cigar till one by one his guests had gone,but not until the great drawing room was well-nigh empty, did Helenleave the conservatory.

  For a few weeks thereafter Chicago seemed, to Gordon Wade's fancy, to bethe very center of the Universe. Gradually, however, the sturdy natureof the man asserted itself, and realizing that for him there were manymore desirable places, he determined to look farther before choosing apermanent home. He told Helen frankly of his purpose, and to his greatsatisfaction she approved. There was no definite word of marriagebetween them, though they both looked forward to it and both, at thetime of parting, deemed the understanding complete between them.

  Helen would have had him turn to the East, for her heart was set on citylife in one of the world's great capitals, but he declared he must seethe West before deciding, and though she was dissatisfied, she was toowise to seek the domination she intended, at that stage of the game.

  He departed, therefore, to find in Wyoming later on, his ideal of ahome. His thought of Chicago thereafter, was that of the place where thegirl he thought he loved was waiting for him, to claim her, so soon ashis home was made suitable. There was much to do by way of preparation,however, and almost imperceptibly his ardor cooled as he found himselfbecoming prominent among the bold and independent citizens who wererapidly putting Wyoming on the map.

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