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Authors: Luke; Short

BOOK: Coroner Creek
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He was handed a string-tied bundle of mail, and he went over to the counter and looked through its contents. When he came to a long slim envelope bearing the printed legend in the upper left hand corner, S
ULINAM
M
INES
, I
NC.
, he took it out and put it in his coat pocket, gathered up the mail and went out.

His pace back to the store was unhurried. Walking down the main aisle, he saw through the open door that Younger was standing in front of the big window by his desk, hands in hip pockets. Younger turned restlessly, saw MacElvey and strode swiftly to the door, where they met.

“What?” Younger said.

Mac said nothing, only handed him the envelope from his coat pocket. Younger tore open the envelope and in his haste to remove the letter, dropped both. He swore softly, and picked up the letter, opened and read it. An odd expression, Mac noticed—one of both anger and pleasure—came into his broad face as he finished it. He looked up, extending the letter to Mac, saying, “We got it.”

Mac, standing, read the letter written in a clerk's legible script under the letterhead of S
ULINAM
M
INES
, I
NC
.

Dear Mr. Miles:
We take satisfaction in informing you that your offer to move a minimum of 175,000 tons of ore from our mines in Petrie to the stamp mill in Case Valley at a cost to this corporation of $3.16 per ton, was the lowest offer received by us, and accordingly we are ready to sign the contract.

Mr. Amos Hardy, with whom Mr. MacElvey of your firm discussed details of specifications and who is treasurer of Sulinam Mines, Inc., left for the East yesterday to return in ten days' time. Since he is required to countersign all contracts of this nature, may I suggest that he and I meet with you in Triumph immediately upon his return, the 25th of the present month.

May we respectfully call your attention to paragraph 14 of the published specifications, a copy of which Mr. MacElvey requested from us, which states that a minimum of five hundred tons of ore is to be put down at the Case Valley, stamp mill not later than November 30, 1879.

We anticipate the most cordial relations between yourself and Sulinam Mines, Inc., and look forward to a long and mutually prosperous association.

Respectfully yours,

Ivan H. Coe,
General Mgr.

Sulinam Mines, Inc.

Mac smiled faintly and folded the letter and looked at Younger. He had gone back to the window, and was staring through it at the distant Blackbows bulking to the south.

He turned now and said grimly, “A hell of a time for it to come.”

“You haven't signed the contract yet,” Mac said softly.

“Are you suggesting I don't?”

“You're the one that's worried, not me.”

Younger swung around and looked out the window again. “I'm not worried. If I get that drifter, O'Hea'll pull in his horns. And I won't quit till I get him.”

He came over to Mac and took the letter and read it again. Then he sighed heavily, as a man does who is starting in on a long and heavy task. “All right, get it going, Mac. Coe is watching that deadline as close as we are. What's the name of your surveyor—Travis? Start him over to Petrie right away. Get your telegram written to Dan and tell him to close for the horses and start 'em up here. Get the one off for the wagons, too, and tell Sholtz to pay cash, of course. I'll ride over to the tie camp tonight and see that Brush sobers up the road crew and gets 'em moving. We can start a wagon off from here tonight with the tools and grub enough to get the first two road camps going. Draw on the store for everything you need. Talbot is going to have to put a lot of feed down there for the road teams, so I'll put the crew on the barns first. Write your telegrams so I can take them with me, and I'll send a man from there to Moorehouse. You—” he gestured impatiently. “Hell, you know all this, Mac, just get it going.”

Mac nodded, no excitement in his face, and picked up the letter and read it again. Younger regarded him thoughtfully.

“Mac, either I'm going to be rich enough after this, so I won't have to worry about money again, or so broke I won't have any to worry about.”

“You're spending the biggest chunk of your money now before the contract is signed, you know,” Mac murmured.

Miles gestured briefly, angrily to the letter. “If I wait for Hardy, I lose ten days. And those ten days will make the difference between meeting the deadline and forfeiting. What's the matter with that letter? It's good in any court. Why question it?”

“I'm a careful man,” Mac said.

“So am I, up to a point, and that point's past,” Younger said, smiling faintly. “Come on, Mac. Get going.”

CHAPTER XVI

Mrs. Harms was pretty well posted on events by Leach when she reached home in the early afternoon. She and Della cried a bit in each other's arms when they met, while Leach carried in Mrs. Harms' trunk. Andy rode in a little later and turned his horse out, but did not come to the house. He'd been up to Falls Canyon to have his look and to check if the fire was out, or had spread.

Mrs. Harms ate something, and presently sent Leach to get Andy, and Leach found him sitting atop the corral fence moodily chewing a straw and regarding the distant flats. There was a faint cloudiness between them and the sun now.

“Mrs. Harms wants you and me at the house,” Leach told him, and Andy climbed down. He didn't speak to Leach, and Leach didn't speak to him.

When Andy saw Mrs. Harms in the lean-to, he took off his hat and shook hands with her and told her he was glad she was back, which he was. Della was seated at the big table and Mrs. Harms sat down at the head of it. Andy sat at his accustomed place and Leach took the chair beside him. This, Andy knew, was to be a discussion of Box H affairs, since it had often happened in the past.

Mrs. Harms began by looking at Andy and saying, “Della tells me you think Leach is to blame for what happened last night, Andy. Well, I don't think so and Della doesn't, so we won't talk about it any more.”

“I don't have to talk about it any more,” Andy said. “I know what I know.”

“Now, that's enough,” Mrs. Harms said placidly. “We have enough trouble without you boys jawing. We have a lot of money to pay back, and we've got to figure what's best to do.”

All of them nodded and Mrs. Harms said, almost, absently, “I suppose Mr. Danning wasn't all trouble. He got us back Thessaly.”

Leach said, “He said something this mornin' that surprised me. Tip Henry's lit out.” He looked at Mrs. Harms. “Don't that make his homestead void, Mrs. Harms?”

“Why, yes,” Mrs. Harms said. “You have to live on the land you homestead at least six months out of the year until you prove up. Otherwise, a rich man like Younger Miles could buy all the government land he wanted to.”

“Then what happens to Tip's homestead?” Leach asked.

“At the end of the year when he hasn't proven up, it's public domain again, isn't it?” Della said.

“But if anybody moves in there, he's trespassin', ain't he?” Leach asked.

Mrs. Harms said, “Of course. Why?”

“Andy said Danning said there wasn't anybody there the other day. Why don't we move in on it, then? We'd be trespassin', but Tip Henry won't be there to complain. Younger Miles can't complain, because he's got nothin' to do with it. Besides, Thessaly's ours, and that shack is in Thessaly.”

“Who'd you say moves in?” Andy cut in.

“We do,” Leach said.

“Who's we?”

“Why, me or you,” Leach said. “We finish the shack and use it like we do the Salt Meadow line shack.”

“And Miles lets you,” Andy said, with something very like irony in his voice. He looked at the two women. “You know why Tip Henry jumped the country? He was scared of Danning—plumb scared to death. You got anybody workin' for you now, Mrs. Harms, that's goin' to scare anybody?”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Harms said tartly. “Grown men like Tip Henry don't scare. He was probably good and sick of Younger Miles and Ernie Coombs, and wanted to stay out of trouble.”

Andy said nothing. He liked the easy common-sense way Mrs. Harms usually talked, but this wasn't common sense.

Della was watching Leach, frowning. “Isn't that breaking the law, Leach?”

Leach said, “We ain't hurtin' Tip Henry, are we? He don't care. We're only beatin' Miles to it.”

“Then why don't we do it?” Della asked suddenly, and looked at Andy. “You were talking pretty big a couple of days ago, Andy, wanting us to stand up for our rights. What about it?”

“What right we got there?” Andy asked.

“What right have we to Thessaly?” Mrs. Harms put in. “None, except it's always belonged to us. Tip's quarter section will revert to the same thing Thessaly is in another year. Why shouldn't we move in and keep Miles out?”

Andy couldn't deny the facts, which sounded reasonable enough, but he had a feeling this wasn't the whole story. He knew there were more than rights involved. Fear of Danning had stopped the building of that shack. On the other hand, Box H had to fight. Danning had as good as said it when he asked him to stay. If Box H suddenly turned timid now, Rainbow would walk all over them. Andy had learned that much since Danning had been with them. And nobody could deny that Box H had more right than Rainbow to claim the quarter section Tip Henry had given up.

Andy said slowly, “Well, I'm workin' for you and your mother, Della, but we got two men against Rainbow's fifteen, if it comes to a fight.”

Nobody thought that deserved comment, and the talk turned to the consequences of last night's fire. It was agreed that they must cancel all feed contracts and ask for an, extension on the note. Andy was only half-listening; his slow, methodical mind was still considering the move to the shack in Thessaly, and he was silent until Mrs. Harms rose, saying, “If you're going up to the shack, I'd better get some food ready for you.”

“Is that an order, Mrs. Harms?” Andy asked reluctantly.

“Yes. We have to look sharp now, Andy,” Mrs. Harms answered, her tone neither brusque nor kindly, but matter-of-fact.

“It looks like it's clouding over,” Andy said lamely.

Della stood up and said, “What I said this morning still goes, Andy. When you don't like it, all you've got to do is to see Truscott.”

Andy didn't reply, because there was nothing more really to say. But Leach, hiding behind the skirts of these women, unable or unwilling to accept any responsibility, but eager enough to butter them up, was to blame. Della said she would ride up to have a look at Falls Canyon, and asked Andy to saddle her horse.

He went out, and Leach fell in beside him.

“Scared of Miles?” Leach demanded slyly, when they were away from the house.

“Him and ten or fifteen others put together, I am.”

“But we got a right there.”

“Tell him that.”

“I aim to, if he comes up.”

“If he comes up, you'll be there,” Andy said grimly.

They saddled three horses and packed a fourth horse with saws, axes and ropes. Andy led the horses out of the corral and stepped into the saddle. Leach led the fourth horse over to the cottonwood where Della, dressed in riding clothes now, was waiting. Andy noticed she was pale and worried, but he knew it wasn't about what they were going to do. She was worried about losing Danning, knowing the prop had been knocked from under Box H.

They rode across the flats abreast, and took the trail to the bench and were presently at the forks where the trail to Thessaly left the trail to Falls.

Leach reined up then and said to Andy, “You go on ahead and I'll cut across from Falls. I'm goin' with Della.”

“You're comin' with me,” Andy said flatly, his homely face stubborn.

Leach bristled. “I'm goin' up and cut out a hindquarter of beef from one of them carcasses and bring it over to Thessaly. I don't care if you eat it or not, but I aim to. What are you goin' to do about that?”

“He's going over to Thessaly, Leach. Now stop wrangling, you two,” Della said.

Leach set off on the Salt Meadow trail without another word and Andy took the Thessaly trail. In the back of his mind was the thought that this was going to be a test for Leach, and one he wouldn't be allowed to dodge. Leach had thought this up, and Leach was going to see it through.

Andy climbed steadily through the timber. At each open park there was Rainbow beef grazing, and the sight of them reminded Andy that he was in unfriendly country. He thought of his last ride through here in the night with Danning, and he squirmed a little when he recalled his innocence on that morning. But wasn't he doing the same thing now, only, instead of being innocent, he was being badgered into it by people who didn't understand?

When he came to where he and Danning had boiled coffee that morning, he saw the holed coffeepot lying on its side in the grass by the trail. There was something vaguely sinister in the fact that it should still be there where he could see it, warning him.

But when he rode into the clearing where the shack was, it was deserted. It was just as he and Danning had left it, with the logs scattered helter-skelter, the chuck-wagon gone, the walls still two-thirds raised, and even the turf still holding the heel gouges of the fight. This was somehow reassuring to Andy as he dismounted. Perhaps Rainbow had given up the idea of finishing the shack, now that Tip had been chased off and Box H cattle moved into the canyon.

He took the pack off the second horse, put hobbles on him and his own horse, and turned them out across the stream. He could see a few Box H cattle grazing up the canyon, and this was reassuring, too. When he had finished making camp, there were still some hours of fast-clouding daylight left. It would rain tonight, Andy thought gloomily. Leach would be along presently, and Andy decided to put in some work while he waited.

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