Lord Stranleigh Abroad, Robert Barr [room on the broom read aloud TXT] 📗

house, evidently watching him, but he paid no attention to them, and while he was inside, the roar of the cataract prevented him from hearing approaching footsteps. As he came out to the lip of the mine, he found Jim and three others waiting for him. Each had a rifle on his shoulder.

"Inspecting the property?" said Jim, casually.

"Yes," replied Stranleigh.

"What do you think of it?"

"My opinion would be of very little value. I know nothing of mining."

"The deuce you don't!" said Jim. "What are you doing with that lump of rock in your hand?"

"Oh, that," said Stranleigh, "I happened to pick up. I wanted to examine it in clear daylight. Is there silver in it?"

"How should I know?" replied Jim, gruffly. "I'm not a mining engineer. I only take a hand at the drill or the pick, as the case may be. But when you throw that back where you got it, throw it carefully, and not too far."

"I don't intend to throw it," said Stranleigh. "I'm going to take it down to the house."

"Oh, you think you're not going to throw it, but you are. We've just come up to explain that to you."

"I see. If it is compulsory, why shouldn't I throw it as far as I can?"

"Because," explained Jim, politely, "there's a lot of dynamite stored in the end of that hole, and dynamite isn't a thing to fool with, you know."

Stranleigh laughed.

"I rather fancy you're right, though I know as little about dynamite as I do about mines. But to be sure of being on the right side, I will leave the tossing of the stone to you. Here it is," whereupon he handed the lump of rock to Jim, who flung it carelessly into the mine again, but did not join in his visitor's hilarity.

"You seem to regard me as a dangerous person?"

"Oh, not at all, but we do love a man that attends to his own business. We understood that you came here for shooting and fishing."

"So I did, but other people were out shooting before I got a chance. A man who's had a bullet through his shoulder neither hunts nor fishes."

"That's so," admitted Jim, with the suavity of one who recognises a reasonable statement, "but now that you are better, what do you come nosing round the mine for? Why don't you go on with your shooting and your fishing?"

"Because Mr. Armstrong was to be my guide, and he, I regret to say, has not yet returned home. As he is tramping from Chicago to the ranch, no one knows when he will put in an appearance."

"Well, Mr. Stranleigh, we are plain, ordinary backwoods folks, that have no reason for loving or trusting people who come from the city, as you do. You say that shooting is your game. Now, we can do a bit of shooting ourselves, and I tell you plainly that if any stranger was found prowling around here, he'd have got a bullet in a more vital spot than you did. Do you understand me?"

"Your meaning, sir, is perfectly plain. What do you want me to do? Go away from here before Mr. Armstrong returns?"

"No; we don't say that, but we draw an imaginary line, such as they tell me the equator is, past this end of the farm house, and we ask you not to cross it westward. There's all the fishing you want down stream, but there's none up here by the waterfall, neither is there any game to shoot, so you see we're proposing no hardship if your intentions are what you say they are."

"Sir, you speak so beautifully that I must address you less familiarly than I am doing. My own name is Ned, but few take the liberty of calling me by that title. I don't know that I should like it if they did. You are already aware, perhaps, that I answer to the name of Stranleigh. May I enquire what your name is?"

"I'm James Dean."

"Ah, the Dean of the Faculty? You are leader of this band of brothers?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Are they unanimous in restricting my liberty on this ranch?"

"You bet!"

"You've no right to do such a thing, and besides, it is inhospitable. I came to this ranch properly accredited, with a letter of introduction to Mr. Armstrong. He happens to be away; if he had been here, and I had seen that my visit was unwelcome to him, I should instantly have taken my leave, but I refuse to have my liberty restricted by Mr. Armstrong's hired men."

"That's exactly where you're wrong, Mr. Stranleigh. In the first place, we're not hired men; we're Mr. Armstrong's partners, and we don't restrict your liberty on the ranch."

"A partner contributes his share to the expenses of the combination. I understand Mr. Armstrong bears the burden alone."

"We contribute our labour, which is cash in another form, therefore whether Mr. Armstrong is here, or whether he is away, we mean to defend our property. So when you cross the imaginary line I spoke of, you are trespassing, and no jury will convict a man who shoots a trespasser after he has been fully warned, as we warn you."

"Well, Mr. Dean, I admit that you have right on your side, even if there is not much wisdom at the back of it. There is just one more thing I should like to know. Why do you treat me as an enemy?"

"As a possible enemy," corrected Dean.

"As a possible enemy, then?"

"Because we don't like your actions, and we don't think much of you. You're a city man, and we don't trust any such."

"But Mr. Banks, who gave me the letter to your chief, is not only a city man, but a lawyer. He has been here, and spoke highly of his reception."

"That was before the mine was opened, and as for being a lawyer, we hate 'em, of course, but they're like rattlesnakes. In some seasons of the year they are harmless. The opening of the silver mine opened the rattlesnake season, and that's why this lawyer snake in Bleachers is trying to cheat Armstrong out of his ranch. He came over here with a mining engineer and learnt the whole value of the ground. How do we know you're not a mining engineer?"

"I regret to say I'm nothing so useful."

"And didn't you send Miss Armstrong into Bleachers to see that villain Ricketts? What connection have you with him?"

"None at all, Mr. Dean. I never saw Ricketts in my life, and never heard of him before the day you mistook me for the sheriff."

Dean glanced at his companions, who had taken no part in the colloquy, but who listened with an interest at once critical and suspicious. It was evident that their distrust could not be dissipated, or even mitigated, by strenuous talk, and for a moment Stranleigh was tempted to tell them that he had lent three thousand dollars to Miss Armstrong, in the hope that this money, added to her own, would gain some sort of concession from the obdurate lawyer. But he remembered that the girl was in constant communication with these men, and if she had not already informed them of his futile assistance, it was because she did not want them to know.

Dean pondered for a few moments before he spoke. He seemed to have gathered in the purport of his men's thoughts without the necessity for words. At last he said:

"May I take it you agree hereafter to attend to your own business?"

Stranleigh laughed.

"There would be no use in my making that promise, for I have never in my life attended to my own business. My business affairs are all looked after by men who are experts. They live in New York and in London, and although I make a decision now and then, I do that as seldom as possible. It fatigues me."

"So you are a loafer?"

"That's it exactly, Mr. Dean, and I freely give you my promise not to loaf about your silver mine."

"Are you so rich as all that?"

"You are not consistent, Mr. Dean. How can you ask me to attend to my business if you do not attend to yours? Whether I am rich or poor is none of your affair?"

"Quite true," agreed Jim, nonchalantly, "we will let it go at that."

Stranleigh, with a smile, bowed courteously to the group.

"I wish you a very good day," he said, and turning, strolled down to the house at a leisurely gait, quite in keeping with his self-declared character of loafer. His back offered an excellent target, but no man raised his rifle, and Stranleigh never looked over his shoulder, never hurried a step, but walked as one very sure of himself, and in no fear of attack.

"Stuck up cuss," said Jim to his comrades. "I'd like to take that chap down a peg. Let's get back to the bunk house and talk it over," so they, too, left the pit mouth, and returned to their cabin.

When the Earl of Stranleigh entered the house, he was accosted by Miss Armstrong, on whose fair face were traces of deep anxiety, which his lordship thought were easily accounted for by the fact that the homestead was to be sold in less than a fortnight.

"I have been anxious to see you, Mr. Stranleigh," she said. "Won't you come out on the verandah where we can talk?"

"With great pleasure, Miss Armstrong."

When they were seated, she continued--

"You have been talking with the men?"

"Yes; we had a little chat together."

"Did they tell you anything of their intentions?"

"No; except in so far as they were determined not to let me examine the mine."

"Ah; they have distrusted you from the first. Did you insist on visiting it?"

"I have visited it."

"Without asking one of them to accompany you?"

"I regarded them as hired men. They say they are your father's partners."

"So they are."

"Ah, well, if that is really the case, I must apologise to them. I thought when you ordered Dean to bring in my luggage, and he obeyed with such docility, that he was your servant. I intended to offer him some money for that service, but I suppose I must not."

"Certainly not. Those men will do anything for a friend, but nothing for one of whom they are suspicious. Their distrust, once aroused, is not easily removed. I am sure, however, you were tactful with them."

Stranleigh smiled ruefully.

"I am not so certain of that myself. I fear I failed in diplomacy."

"I do wish my father were here," she said, ignoring his last remark. "I am very much worried about the men."

"What do they know of your trouble with that man Ricketts?"

"They know all about it, and they now threaten to march into Bleachers in a body and, as we say, shoot up the town, including Ricketts, of course."

"When do they intend to do this?"

"On the day of the auction sale."

"Don't they understand that that would be futile?"

"It would cause an infinite amount of harm, and ultimately might result in their being wiped out themselves. Not that Bleachers could do such a thing,