The Way of the Strong - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Way of the Strong Part 81 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
He was about to reply when quite suddenly Phyllis cried out.
"I see. I see," she said. "Frank's right, Mr. Hendrie. Leyburn has the power, and, if he will not use it, he must be made to----"
But before she could proceed further the door was unceremoniously flung open, and Angus Moraine, lean, vulture-like, hurried in.
"It's no good, Mr.---- Oh, beg pardon. I didn't just know----" He paused, as though about to withdraw at the sight of Frank and Phyllis.
"Guess I'll come along later," he said. "There's a fire way out to the west. I saw it as I came along. Looks like the prairie. I'll just get around. You won't need the automobile. It'll take me quicker."
Phyllis started.
"Fire?" she demanded, in sudden alarm.
"Out west?" cried Frank, rising abruptly from his seat.
Angus nodded.
"Why, yes," he said. "Guess it's just the prairie."
Suddenly the millionaire laughed aloud.
"Prairie?" he cried. "Say, Angus, my boy, that's my crop. They've fired the crop. They're going to break me. Austin Leyburn and his scallywags.
They're going to smash me by burning my crop, and then they're going to shoot down every n.i.g.g.e.r on the place while they let my wife die in her bed for want of a surgeon's aid. Do you get that all? Do you? That's Leyburn. Austin Leyburn, who came here days ago and promised he'd smash me for things done way back on the old Yukon trail. Hey! Stop right here and listen. I've got it now, and this boy, here, and this child, too, have shown me the way. There's no train to go through, eh? That's what they've told you in Calford. A million dollars won't take one through. Well, a tram's going through, and for a deal less than a million. The railroaders need Leyburn's order. Leyburn's order!" He laughed in a wild sort of sarcasm. "Well, by G.o.d, he shall give it!
This boy and girl are on. It don't need any telling. You are on, my dour Scot--I know you. We'll let him burn the crop, let him shoot up the n.i.g.g.e.rs, I don't care a curse. He's going to send that train through. Sit right down and I'll tell you 'bout it."
CHAPTER XVII
A RAID
Austin Leyburn was well enough satisfied. More than that, he felt he had earned these moments of satisfaction.
He had taken a big chance in rushing down in his automobile from Calford to Everton at the moment when the newly started strike of the railroad required his whole attention, and the sympathies of other forms of transport required to be brought into line. So many things might go wrong with his greater plans, and though his working staff and fellow-leaders were men of capacity, and fully able to deal with affairs, he knew that, in all emergency, his was the organizing brain, his was the final word.
But the risk had been worth while. Anything was worth while that gave him opportunity of satisfying something of his almost lifelong hatred of Alexander Hendrie. This new toy of his, this organization of agricultural labor, had a.s.sumed proportions far greater in his mind than any of his other interests, and the reason of it lay in the fact that at last, after years of waiting, it had brought him into contact with the man, Leo. Better still, Leo, the Leo he had at last found out, was worth while. He was a great man, a man head and shoulders above all his fellows in the world's affairs, and his ultimate fall would be something worth while having brought about.
His delight was manifest as he rode along the trail in the direction of Everton. His good humor left his narrow eyes smiling his satisfied thought. His men had worked well; and he--well, he had never worked harder, or with a more satisfactory result. These men of the soil were far easier to influence than town-bred workers. It was natural--as they were. Yes, for once in his life he felt grateful to those who had served him. The men who had been sent ahead to agitate had never worked with such successful results. He would remember them, and mark them out for promotion.
Then there was young Frank Smith. He smiled more broadly down at his horse's ears. Leo's son--working for his father's downfall. It was a pretty touch, and the humor of it tickled him. Oh, Leo should know of it--later on, when the work was completed.
Frank. He wondered where he was just now. The smile died out of his eyes. He had purposely kept his meeting secret. He had had no desire that the boy should witness it. He had a perfect estimate of the youngster's prejudices and feelings which might have militated against his, Leyburn's, success had Frank listened to his urging of those drink-sodden creatures to violence. But where was he? He had received no word from the boy for nearly a week. He made a mental note to set inquiries afoot--that is, if no word were awaiting him on his return to Calford.
At that moment his horse, an old roadster, hired at the livery barn in Everton, threw up its head and snuffed at the light, southern breeze.
Leyburn glanced up expectantly and turned his eyes in the direction in which his uneasy horse was staring. In an instant Frank was forgotten, and his whole attention became fixed upon what he beheld. He drew rein sharply, and the animal stood fidgeting and fretful.
Away to the southwest behind him a ruddy glow shone upon the night sky.
It was the direction whence the night breeze sprang, and he knew that it was at the point where he had held his meeting. He rubbed his hands gleefully and chuckled. While he watched the glow spread along the southern horizon, and as it spread so the stars in the sky above were obscured, and he knew that a great fog of smoke had intervened to hide them.
His horse continued to fidget, and again and again its gushing nostrils strove to expel the taint of smoke, now plainly to be noticed in the fresh air of the plains.
But the man remained absorbed. Farther and farther along the horizon lit, and now, where before only a glowing reflection had been, a sharp belt of flame showed up, revealing to his satisfied eyes the great billows of smoke rolling along and upwards, borne upon the bosom of the summer breeze.
He knew that his work was complete. He knew that those whom he had left behind to see that his desires were carried out had done so promptly and satisfactorily. He knew that now no human hand could save the miles of crop belonging to Alexander Hendrie. He knew that, by morning, a charred, black debris would be all that remained of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of grain, and that Leo, the great Leo, would be just so much the poorer.
He gave his restive horse its head, and the eager beast plunged forward down the trail. It was thankful, desperately thankful, for the chance of getting away from the hateful, fascinating sight.
Leyburn's eyes remained turned upon the wonderful spectacle of the fiercely burning grain. The fire was sweeping onward with a terrific rush, and a dull roar reached him as it licked up the rustling heads of wheat in a parallel to the road he was traveling. Its pace was miraculous, and man and beast were soon left far behind in the race.
Never had this man witnessed such a wonderful scene, and something of its awe filled his heart.
He had no misgivings, no qualms of conscience. It was his work, this wanton destruction, and he gloried in it. The weight of his hand had fallen, and he knew that Alexander Hendrie, while powerless to help himself, would understand who had directed the blow.
The fire grew with lightning rapidity, and even here on this trail, well away from the danger zone, the heat left his horse in a lather of sweat. The smoke, too, was choking, but the discomfort of it was no discomfort to him at all, only to his horse, who had no desire for a cruel vengeance in its submissive heart.
He sped on rapidly. Soon the trail turned away northward, and the fire fell lower and lower upon the horizon, and the heated night air cooled and sweetened. But the man half regretted he was no longer in full view of the result of his mischief. Still he reveled in the thought of what Hendrie's feelings must be just now. It gave him the greatest delight to picture the millionaire standing in the shadow of his palatial home while a vast slice of his wealth was vanishing in smoke before his eyes.
An hour later he approached the bluffs which surrounded Everton. He had pa.s.sed no one on the trail. As he drew near his destination he was still further astonished to find no sign of excitement stirring. He looked back. The sky was lit for miles around, yet Everton and its surroundings seemed all undisturbed. There was just a slight feeling of pique in him as he realized how little popular stir his doings had caused, and this lack of interest somehow lessened his satisfaction.
The bluff swallowed him up, and he dug his heels viciously into his horse's flanks.
The next moment he became aware of a horseman riding toward him. That was better. Everton was awake after all. Doubtless only the silence of the bluffs gave the little town its appearance of indifference to the epoch-making achievements of his genius.
The horseman rounded a bend in the trail just ahead of him. He drew up sharply as he came abreast.
"Say," the man cried, without ceremony, "guess you don't just happen to be Austin Leyburn?"
Leyburn thought quickly before replying.
"You looking for him?" he inquired evasively.
"What in h.e.l.l do you s'pose I'm doin'?" retorted the other, with a sort of explosion.
"Shouting a deal," observed Leyburn calmly.
"Guess you'd shout too, if you was chased this time o' night rushin'
around hunting a guy called Leyburn, when there's a h.e.l.l of a big fire eatin' up that doggone skunk Hendrie's wheat."
"Fire?"
Leyburn appeared surprised.
"That's what I said. Say, you ain't deef an' blind, or what's ailing yer? You come along that way. Gee, I'd sure guess that lousy dollar king's 'bout hatin' hisself right now. It's his boys. They're on strike. More power to 'em, sez I. If I'd anything in their bizness I'd burn his house, too."
"You a farm hand?" inquired Leyburn amusedly.
"Was. I worked for Hendrie till his dirty Scotch manager fired me. Now I'm chasin' ch.o.r.es around the hotel, back there. Well, guess I got to find this guy 'fore I make my blankets this night. I'll get on--seein'
you haven't seen him around."