The Cross-Cut Part 11

Shouting in mock anger, calling for all dire things, from lynchings on down to burnings at the stake, they dragged Harry to the pine tree, threw him astraddle of it, then, with willing hands volunteering on every side, hoisted the tree high above them and started down the mountain side, Sam Herbenfelder trotting in the rear and forgetting his anger in the joyful knowledge that his ring at last was safe.

Behind the throng of men with their mock threats trailed the women and children, some throwing pine cones at the booming Harry, juggling himself on the narrow pole; and in the crowd, Fairchild found some one he could watch with more than ordinary interest,--Anita Richmond, trudging along with the rest, apparently remonstrating with the sullen, mean-visaged young man at her side. Instinctively Fairchild knew that young Rodaine was not pleased with the return of Harkins. As for the father--

Fairchild whirled at a voice by his side and looked straight into the crooked eyes of Thornton Fairchild's enemy. The blue-white scar had turned almost black now, the eyes were red from swollen, blood-stained veins, the evil, thin, crooked lips were working in sullen fury. They were practically alone at the mouth of the mine, Fairchild with a laugh dying on his lips, Rodaine with all the hate and anger and futile malice that a human being can know typified in his scarred, hawklike features. A thin, taloned hand came upward, to double, leaving one bony, curved finger extending in emphasis of the words which streamed from the slit of a mouth:

"Funny, weren't you? Played your cheap jokes and got away with 'em.

But everybody ain't like them fools!" he pointed to the crowd just rounding the rocks, Harry bobbing in the foreground. "There 's some that remember--and I 'm one of 'em. You 've put over your fake; you 've had your laugh; you 've framed it so I 'll be the b.u.t.t of every numbskull in Ohadi. But just listen to this--just listen to this!" he repeated, the harsh voice taking on a tone that was almost a screech.

"There's another time coming--and that time 's going to be mine!"

And before Fairchild could retort, he had turned and was scrambling down the mountain side.

CHAPTER IX

It was just as well. Fairchild could have said nothing that would have helped matters. He could have done nothing that would have damaged them. The cards were still the same; the deck still bore its markings, and the deal was going on without ever a change, except that now the matter of concealment of enmities had turned to an open, aboveboard proposition. Whether Harry had so intended it or not, he had forced Squint Rodaine to show his hand, and whether Squint realized it, that amounted to something. Fairchild was almost grateful for the fact as he went back into the tunnel, spun the flywheels of the gasoline engines and started them revolving again, that the last of the water might be drained from the shaft before the pumps must be returned to their owners.

Several hours pa.s.sed, then Harry returned, minus his gorgeous clothing and his diamond ring, dressed in mining costume now, with high leather boots into which his trousers were tucked, and carrying a carbide lantern. Dolefully he looked at the vacant finger where once a diamond had sparkled. Then he chuckled.

"Sam took it back," he announced. "And I took part of the money and paid it out for rent on these pumps. We can keep 'em as long as we want 'em. It's only costing about a fourth of what it might of.

Drowning 's worth something," he laughed again. Fairchild joined him, then sobered.

"It brought Rodaine out of the bushes," he said. "Squint threatened us after they 'd hauled you down town on the rail."

Harry winked jovially.

"Ain't it just what I expected? It's better that wye than to 'ave 'im snoopin' around. When I came up to the mine, 'e was right behind me.

I knew it. And I 'd figured on it. So I just gave 'im something to get excited about. It was n't a minute after I 'd thrown a rock and my 'at in there and let out a yell that he came thumping in, looking around. I was 'iding back of the timbers there. Out 'e went, muttering to 'imself, and I--well, I went to Center City and read the papers."

They chuckled together then; it was something to know that they had not only forced Squint Rodaine to show his enmity openly, but it was something more to make him the instrument of helping them with their work. The pumps were going steadily now, and a dirty stream of water was flowing down the ditch that had been made at one side of the small tram track. Harry looked down the hole, stared intently at nothing, then turned to the rusty hoist.

"'Ere 's the thing we 've got to fix up now. This 'ere chiv wheel's all out of gear."

"What makes your face so red?" Fairchild asked the question as the be-mustached visage of Harry came nearer to the carbide. Harry looked up.

"Mother 'Oward almost slapped it off!" came his rueful answer. "For not telling 'er what I was going to do, and letting 'er think I got drownded. But 'ow was I to know?"

He went to tinkering with the big chiv wheel then, supported on its heavy timbers, and over which the cable must pa.s.s to allow the skip to travel on its rails down the shaft. Fairchild absently examined the engines and pumps, supplying water to the radiators and filling an oil cup or two. Then he turned swiftly, voicing that which was uppermost in his mind.

"When you were here before, Harry, did you know a Judge Richmond?"

"Yeh." Harry pawed his mustache and made a greasy, black mark on his face. "But I don't think I want to know 'im now."

"Why not?"

"'E's mixed up with the Rodaines."

"How much?"

"They own 'im--that's all."

There was silence for a moment. It had been something which Fairchild had not expected. If the Rodaines owned Judge Richmond, how far did that ownership extend? After a long time, he forced himself to a statement.

"I know his daughter."

"You?" Harry straightened. "'Ow so?"

"She sold me a ticket to a dance," Fairchild carefully forgot the earlier meeting. "Then we 've happened to meet several times after that. She said that her father had told her about me--it seems he used to be a friend of my own father."

Harry nodded.

"So 'e was. And a good friend. But that was before things 'appened--like they 've 'appened in the last ten years. Not that I know about it of my own knowledge. But Mother 'Oward--she knows a lot."

"But what's caused the change? What--?"

Harry's intent gaze stopped him.

"'Ow many times 'ave you seen the girl when she was n't with young Rodaine?"

"Very few, that's true."

"And 'ow many times 'ave you seen Judge Richmond?"

"I have n't ever seen him."

"You won't--if Mother 'Oward knows anything. 'E ain't able to get out.

'E's sick--apoplexy--a stroke. Rodaine's taken advantage of it."

"How?"

"'Ow does anybody take advantage of somebody that's sick? 'Ow does anybody get a 'old on a person? Through money! Judge Richmond 'ad a lot of it. Then 'e got sick. Rodaine, 'e got 'old of that money. Now Judge Richmond 'as to ask 'im for every penny he gets--and 'e does what Rodaine says."

"But a judge--"

"Judges is just like anybody else when they're bedridden and only 'arf their faculties working. The girl, so Mother 'Oward tells me, is about twenty now. That made 'er just a little kid, and motherless, when Rodaine got in 'is work. She ain't got a thing to sye. And she loves 'er father. Suppose," Harry waved a hand, "that you loved somebody awful strong, and suppose that person was under a influence? Suppose it meant 'is 'appiness and 'is 'ealth for you to do like 'e wanted you?

Wouldn't you go with a man? What's more, if 'e don't die pretty soon, you 'll see a wedding!"

"You mean--?"

"She 'll be Mrs. Maurice Rodaine. She loves 'er father enough to do it--after 'er will's broken. And I don't care 'oo it is; there ain't a woman in the world that's got the strength to keep on saying no to a sick father!"

Again Robert Fairchild filled an oil cup, again he tinkered about the pumps. Then he straightened.

"How are we going to work this mine?" he asked shortly. Harry stared at him.

"'Ow should I know? You own it!"

"I don't mean that way. We were fifty-fifty from the minute you showed up. There never has been any other thought in my mind--"