Rimrock Jones
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Dane Coolidge >> Rimrock Jones
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"All I want is justice," he went on doggedly. "I want a fair trial
before a jury of Arizona men. When I state my case I'll tell them the
truth and I don't want any lawyer butting in. And one thing more. I'm
going to ask you, Miss Fortune, to leave this case strictly alone. I
thank you just as much for your good intentions, but we don't look at
this matter the same. I quit the law when I lost title to the
Gunsight, and I'm going to play out my hand to the end. I claim
there's a law that's above all these lawyers--and judges and supreme
courts, too--and that's the will of the people. I may be mistaken, but
I'll gamble my life on it and if I lose--you can have the whole mine."
"I don't want the whole mine," she answered resentfully, "I want--I
want you to be free. Oh, I came to tell you about all we're
doing--about the construction and the mine work and all--but I just
can't say a word. Are you determined to plead your own case?"
"Why, certainly," he said. "Why shouldn't I do it? I don't consider
I've done anything wrong. I hope you don't think, just because I
killed McBain, that I'm suffering any regrets? Because I'm not, nor
nothing of the kind--I'm glad I killed him like I did. He had it
coming to him and, gimme a square jury, I'll make 'em say I did right."
"I guess I don't understand," she stammered at last, "but--but I'm glad
that it doesn't seem wrong. I can't understand how a man could do it;
but I'll help you, any way I can."
"All right," said Rimrock and looked at her strangely, "I'll tell you
what you can do. In the first place I want you to go back to Gunsight
and stay there until I come back. And in the second place--well, I
can't forget what I did--that day. I want you to say it's all right."
"It is all right," she answered quickly, "I guess that's what I came to
say. And will you forgive me, too, for letting you lie here and never
doing anything to help?"
"Oh, that's nothing," said Rimrock, "I don't mind it much. But say,
isn't there anything else?"
"No!" she said, but the hot blood mounted up and mantled her cheeks
with red.
"Come on," he beckoned. "Just to show you forgive me--it will help me
to win if you do."
She looked around, up and down the narrow corridor, and then laid her
cheek to the bars. Who would not do as much, out of Christian
kindness, for a man who had suffered so much?
CHAPTER XII
RIMROCK'S BIG DAY
The white heat of midsummer settled down on the desert and the
rattlesnakes and Gila monsters holed up. As in the frozen East they
hibernated in winter to escape the grip of the cold, so in sun-cursed
Papagueria, where the Tecolotes lie, they crawled as deep to get away
from the heat. But in the Geronimo jail with its dead, fetid air,
Rimrock Jones learned to envy the snakes. Out on the stark desert,
where the men laid the track, the hot steel burned everything it
touched; but the air was clean and in the nights, when he suffocated,
they lay cool and looked up at the stars. They did a man's work and
drew their pay; he lay in the heat and waited.
Then the first cool days came and the Tecolote Mining Company resumed
its work in feverish haste. An overplus of freight was jammed in the
yards; the construction gangs laid track day and night; and from the
end of the line, which crept forward each day, the freight wagons
hauled supplies to the mine. There was a world of work, back and forth
on the road; and in Tecolote and Gunsight as well. A magnificent
hotel, with the offices of the Company, was springing up across the
street from the Gunsight; at the mine there were warehouses and a
company store and quarters for the men on the flats where Rimrock had
once pitched his tent. But the man who built them was Abercrombie
Jepson--the master hand was slack.
It had killed a man and for that offense Rimrock Jones must wait on the
law. There was no bail for him, for he had made a threat and then
killed his man as he fled. And he would not deny it, nor listen to any
lawyer; so he lay there till the circuit court convened. All through
the slow inferno of that endless summer he had cursed the law's delay;
but it held him, regardless, until the calm-eyed judge returned for the
fall term of court. The jail was full to the last noisome cell-room
and, caught with the rest, was Rimrock.
Yet if Rimrock had suffered there had been compensation--Mary Fortune
had written him every day. He knew everything that Jepson was doing;
and he knew a little more about her. But only a little; there was
something about her that balked him a thousand times. She eluded him,
she escaped him, she ignored his hot words; she was his friend, and yet
only so far. She did not approve of what he was doing, and she had
taken him at his word. He had asked her, once, not to interfere in his
case; and from that day she kept her hands off.
The day of the trial came and Hassayamp Hicks, with L. W. and a host of
friends, went to Geronimo to cheer Rimrock by their presence. The
papers came back full of the account of the case, but Mary Fortune did
not appear in court. Even when the great day came when Rimrock was to
make his appeal to the jury she remained in her office in Gunsight--and
then came the telegram: "Acquitted!"
He had been right then, after all; he knew his own people! But then,
there were other things, too. Mary Fortune was not so innocent that
she had not noticed the strong interest which the newspapers had taken
in his case. They had hailed him, in those last days, the first
citizen of Geronimo County; and first citizens, as we know, are seldom
hanged. The wonderful development of the Tecolote Mining Company had
been heralded, month after month; and the name Rimrock Jones was always
spoken with a reverence never given to criminals. He was the man with
the vision, the big man of a big country, the man whose touch brought
forth gold. And now he had won; his man-killing had been justified;
and he was coming back--to see her.
She knew it. She even knew what he would hasten to say the first
moment he found her alone. He was simple, in those matters; which made
it all the more necessary to have the answer thought out in advance.
But was life as simple as he insisted upon making it? Was every one
either good or bad, and everything right or wrong? She doubted it, and
the answer was somewhere in there. That he was a great man, she
agreed. In his crude, forceful way he had succeeded where most men
would have failed; but was he not, after all, a great, thoughtless
giant who went fighting his way through life, snatching up what he
wanted most? And because his eyes were upon her, because she had come
in his way, was that any reason why the traditions of her life should
fall down and give way to his?
Even when the answer is "no" that is not any reason why a woman should
not appear at her best. Mary Fortune met the train in an afternoon
dress that had made an enemy of every woman in town. She had a friend
in New York who picked them out for her, since her salary had become
what it was. A great crowd was present--the whole populace of Gunsight
was waiting to see their hero come home--and as the train rolled in and
Rimrock dropped off, in the excitement she found tears in her eyes.
But then, that was nothing; Woo Chong, the restaurant Chinaman, was
weeping all over the place; and Old Hassayamp Hicks, hobbling off
through the crowd, wiped his eyes and sobbed, unashamed. And then
Rimrock seized her by both her hands and made her walk with him back to
the hotel!
It was no time for discipline, that night; Rimrock was feeling too
happy and gay. He would shake hands with a Mexican with equal
enthusiasm, or a Chinaman, or a laborer off the railroad. They were
all his friends, whether he knew them or not, and he called on the
whole town to celebrate. The Mexican string band that had met him at
the train was chartered forthwith for the night, Woo Chong had an order
to bring all the grub in town and feed it to the crowd at the hotel;
but Hassayamp Hicks refused to take any man's money, he claimed that
the drinks were on him. And so, with the band playing "Paloma" on the
veranda and refreshments served free to the town, Rimrock Jones came
back, the first citizen of Gunsight, and took up his life with a bang.
He stood in the rotunda of the Hotel Tecolote and gazed admiringly at
the striped marble pillars that he had ordered at great expense, and
his answer was always the same.
"Why, sure not! I knowed that jury wouldn't convict. I picked them
myself by the look in their eye, and every man had to be ten years in
the Territory. A fine bunch of men--every one of 'em square--they can
have anything I've got. That's me! You know Rimrock! He never
forgets his friends! And he don't forget his enemies, either!"
And then came the cheers, the shouts of his friends. The only enemy he
had was dead.
Mary Fortune had a room on the second floor of the hotel--one of the
nicest of them all, now that the painters and paperhangers had finally
left--and she came down late in an evening gown. The marble steps,
which Rimrock had insisted upon having, led up and then turned to both
sides and as she came down, smiling, with her ear-'phone left off and
her hair in a glorious coil, Rimrock paused and his eyes grew big.
"By Joe, like that Queen picture!" he burst out impulsively and went
bounding to meet her half way. And Mary Fortune heard him, in spite of
her deafness; and understood--he meant the Empress Louise. He had seen
that picture of the beloved Empress tripping daintily down the stairs
and, for all she knew, those expensive marble steps might have been
built to give point to the compliment.
"You sure look the part!" he said in her ear as he gallantly escorted
her down. "And say, this hotel! Ain't it simply elegant? We'll show
those Gunsight folks who's who!"
"They're consumed with envy!" she answered, smiling. "I mean the
women, of course. I heard one of them say, just before I moved over,
that you'd built it here just to spite them."
"That's right!" laughed Rimrock--"hello there, Porfilio--I built it
just to make 'em look cheap. By grab, I'm an Injun and I won't soon
forget the way they used to pass me by on the street. But now it's
different--my name is Mister, and that's one bunch I never will know."
"They know _me_, now," she suggested slyly, "but I'm afraid I'm part
Indian, too."
"You're right!" he said as he guided her through the crowd and led the
way out into the street. "Let's walk up and down--I don't dare to go
out alone, or the boys will all get me drunk. But that's right," he
went on, "I've been thinking it over--you can forgive, but you never
forget."
"Well, perhaps so," she replied, "but I don't spend much of my time in
planning out some elaborate revenge. Now those marble steps--do you
know what Mr. Stoddard said when he came out to inspect the mine?"
"No, and what's more, I don't care," answered Rimrock lightly. "I'm
fixed so I don't have to care. Mr. Stoddard is all right--he's a nice
able provider, but we're running this mine, ourselves."
He squeezed her hand where she had slipped it through his arm and
looked down with a triumphant smile.
"We, Us and Company!" he went on unctuously, "fifty-one per cent. of
the stock!"
"Does Stoddard know that?" she asked him suddenly, looking up to read
the words from his lips. "I noticed when he was here he treated me
very politely, whereas Mr. Jepson didn't fare nearly so well."
"You bet he knows it," answered Rimrock explosively. "And Jepson will
know it, too. The first thing I do will be to get rid of our dummy and
make you a Director in the Company. I'm going to take charge here and
your one per cent. of stock entitles you to a bona-fide place on the
Board."
"Well, I'd think that over first," she advised after a silence,
"because I foresee we sha'n't always agree. And if it's a dummy you
want you'd better keep Mr. Buckbee. I'm fully capable of voting you
down."
"No, I'll take a chance on it," he went on, smiling amiably. "All I
ask is that you let me know. If you want to buck me, why, that's your
privilege--you get a vote with me and Stoddard."
"Well, we'll talk that over," she said, laughing indulgently, "when
you're not feeling so trustful and gay. This is one of those times
I've heard you tell about when you feel like walking the wires. The
morning after will be much more appropriate for considering an affair
of this kind."
"No, I mean it!" he declared and then his face reddened. He had used
that phrase before, and always at an unfortunate time. "Let's go back
to the hotel," he burst out abruptly, "these boys are painting the town
right."
They turned back down the street, where drunken revellers hailed their
hero with cheers as he passed, and as they entered the hotel Rimrock
carried her on till they had mounted to the ladies' balcony. This was
located in the gallery where the ladies of the hotel could look down
without being observed and for the space of an hour Rimrock leaned over
the railing and gazed at the crowded rotunda. And as he gazed he
talked, speaking close in her ear since he knew she had left off her
'phone; and all the time, as the people thinned and dwindled, he strove
to win her over to his mood.
He was, as she had said, in one of those expansive moods when his
thoughts were lofty and grand. He opened up his heart and disclosed
hopes and ambitions never before suspected by her; and as she listened
it became apparent that she, Mary Fortune, was somehow involved in them
all. Yet she let him talk on, for his presence was like wine to her,
and his dreams as he told them seemed true. There was the trip to
Europe--he alluded to it very tactfully--but he did not speak as if it
were to be made alone.
And then he spoke of his plans for the Tecolote, and further conquests
that would startle the world. There was Mexico, a vast treasure-house,
barely scratched by the prospector; his star would soon lead him there.
All he needed was patience, to wait the short time till the Tecolote
began to pour out its ore. He asked her minutely of Jepson and his
work and of her interview with the great Whitney H. Stoddard, and then
he struck the stone rail with his knotted fist and told what would have
to be done. And then at last, as the lights grew dim, he spoke of his
long days in jail and how he had looked each day for her letter, which
had never failed to come. His voice broke a little as he told of the
trial and then he reached out and took her hand.
"I've learned from you," he said, leaning closer so she could hear him,
"I've learned to understand. And you like me; now, don't you? You
can't tell me different because I can see it right there in your eye?"
She looked away, but she nodded her head, and her hand still lay quiet
in his.
"Yes, I like you," she said. "I can't help but like you--but let's not
say any more. Aren't you happy enough without always having
things--can't you wait for some things in this world?"
"Yes, I can," he said. "I can wait for everything--the money, the
success and all--but I can't wait for you! No, that's asking too much!"
He drew her towards him and his strong arm swept about her, but she
straightened rebelliously in his clutch.
"Remember!" she warned and his arm relaxed though his breath was still
hot on her cheek. "Now I must be going," she said, rising swiftly.
"Good-night, Rimrock! I'm glad you're here!"
"Don't I get a kiss?" he demanded hoarsely as his hand reached again.
"Come on," he pleaded. "Didn't I turn you loose? You kissed me
once--in jail!"
"But you're free now, Rimrock, and--that makes a difference. You must
learn to wait, and be friends."
"Oh--hell!" he burst out as she flitted away from him. But she was
deaf--she turned back and smiled.
CHAPTER XIII
THE MORNING AFTER
The morning after found Rimrock without regrets and, for once, without
a head. He had subtly judged, from something she had said, that Mary
did not like whiskey breaths, nor strong cigars, nor the odors of the
two combined. So, having certain words to speak in her ear, he had
refrained, with the results as aforesaid. For the first time in her
life she had looked him in the eye and acknowledged, frankly, that she
liked him. But she had not kissed him--she drew the line there--and
once more in his shrewd unsophisticated way he judged it was never
done, in her set.
He found her in the office when he appeared the next morning, with her
harness over her head. It was the sign in a way that she was strictly
business and all personal confidences were taboo, but Rimrock did not
take the hint. It annoyed him, some way, that drum over her ear and
the transmitter hung on her breast, for when he had seen her the
evening before all these things had been set aside.
"What? Still wearing that ear-thing?" he demanded bluffly and she
flushed and drew her lips tight. It was a way she had when she
restrained some quick answer and Rimrock hastened on to explain. "You
never wore it last night and--and you could hear every word I said."
"That was because I knew what you were going to say."
She smiled, imperceptibly, as she returned the retort courteous and now
it was Rimrock who blushed. Then he laughed and waved the matter aside.
"Well, let it go at that," he said sitting down. "Gimme the books, I'm
going to make you a director at our next meeting."
Mary Fortune looked at him curiously and smiled once more, then rose
quickly and went to the safe.
"Very well," she said as she came back with the records, "but I wonder
if you quite understand."
"You bet I do," he said, laying off his big hat and spreading out the
papers and books. "Don't fool yourself there--we've got to be
friends--and that's why I'm going the limit."
He searched out the certificate where, to qualify him for director, he
had transferred one share of the Company stock to Buckbee, and filled
in a date on the back.
"Now," he went on, "Mr. Buckbee's stock is cancelled, and his
resignation automatically takes place. Friend Buckbee is all right,
but dear friend W. H. Stoddard might use him to slip something over.
It's We, Us and Company, you and me, little Mary, against Whitney H.
Stoddard and the world. Do you get the idea? We stand solid
together--two directors out of three--and the Tecolote is in the hollow
of our hand."
"Your hand!" she corrected but Rimrock protested and she let him have
his way.
"No, now listen," he said; "this doesn't bind you to anything--all I
want is that we shall be friends."
"And do you understand," she challenged, "that I can vote against you
and throw the control to Stoddard? Have you stopped to think that I
may have ideas that are diametrically opposed to your own? Have you
even considered that we might fall out--as we did once before, you
remember--and that then I could use this against you?"
"I understand all that--and more besides," he said as he met her eyes.
"I want you, Mary. My God, I'm crazy for you. The whole mine is
nothing to me now."
"Oh, yes, it is," she said, but her voice trailed off and she thought
for a minute in silence.
"Very well," she said, "you have a right to your own way--but remember,
this still leaves me free."
"You know it!" he exclaimed, "as the desert wind! Shake hands on
it--we're going to be friends!"
"I hope so," she said, "but sometimes I'm afraid. We must wait a while
and be sure."
"Ah, 'wait'!" he scolded. "But I don't like that word--but come on,
let's get down to business. Where's this Abercrombie Jepson? I want
to talk to him, and then we'll go out to the mine."
He grabbed up his hat and began to stride about the office, running his
hand lovingly over the polished mahogany furniture, and Mary Fortune
spoke a few words into the phone.
"He'll be here in a minute," she said and began to straighten out the
papers on her desk. Even to Rimrock Jones, who was far from
systematic, it was evident that she knew her work. Every paper was put
back in its special envelope, and when Abercrombie Jepson came in from
his office she had the bundle back in the safe.
He was a large man, rather fat and with a ready smile, but with a
harried look in his eye that came from handling a thousand details; and
as Rimrock turned and faced him he blinked, for he felt something was
coming.
"Mr. Jepson," began Rimrock in his big, blustering voice, "I want to
have an understanding with you. You're a Stoddard man, but I think
you're competent--you certainly have put things through. But here's
the point--I've taken charge now and you get your orders from me. You
can forget Mr. Stoddard. I'm president and general manager, and
whatever I say goes."
He paused and looked Jepson over very carefully while Mary Fortune
stared.
"Very well, sir," answered Jepson, "I think I understand you. I hope
you are satisfied with my services?"
"We'll see about that later," went on Rimrock, still arrogantly. "I'll
begin my tour of inspection to-day. But I'll tell you right now, so
there won't be any mistake, that all I ask of you is results. You
won't find me kicking about the money you spend as long as it comes
back in ore. You're a competent man, so I've been given to understand,
and, inside your field, you're the boss. I won't fire any of your men
and I won't interfere with your work without having it done through
you; but on the other hand, don't you forget for a single minute that
I'm the big boss on this dump. And whatever you do, don't make the
mistake of thinking you're working for Stoddard. I guess that will be
all. Miss Fortune is going to be a director soon and I've asked her to
go out with us to the mine."
A strange, startled look came over Jepson's face as he received this
last bit of news, but he smiled and murmured his congratulations. Then
he expressed the hope that he would be able to please them and withdrew
with the greatest haste.
"Well!" observed Rimrock as he gazed grimly after him, "I guess that
will hold Mr. Jepson."
"Very likely," returned Mary, "but as a prospective director may I
enquire the reason for this outburst?"
"You may," replied Rimrock. "This man, Abercrombie Jepson, was put
over on me by Stoddard. I had to concede something, after holding out
on the control, and I agreed he could name the supe. Well now, after
being the whole show, don't you think it more than likely that Mr.
Jepson might overlook the main squeeze--me?"
He tapped himself on the breast and nodded his head significantly.
"That's it," he went on as she smiled enigmatically. "I know these
great financiers. I'll bet you right now our fat friend Abercrombie is
down telegraphing the news to Stoddard. He's Stoddard's man but I've
got my eye on him and if he makes a crooked move, it's bingo!"
"All the same," defended Mary, "while I don't like him personally, I
think Jepson is remarkably efficient. And when you consider his years
of experience and the technical knowledge he has----"
"That has nothing to do with it, as far as I'm concerned--there are
other men just as good for the price--but I want him to understand so
he won't forget it that he's taking his orders from _me_. Now I happen
to know that our dear friend Stoddard is out to get control of this
mine and the very man that is liable to ditch us is this same efficient
Mr. Jepson. Don't ever make the mistake of giving these financiers the
credit of being on the level. You can't grab that much money in the
short time they've been gathering without gouging every man you meet.
So just watch this man Jepson. Keep your eye on his accounts, and
remember--we're pardners, now."
His big, excited eyes, that blazed with primitive emotion whenever he
roused from his calm, became suddenly gentle and he patted her hand as
he hurried off to order up the car.
All the way across the desert, as Mary exclaimed at the signs of
progress, Rimrock let it pass in silence. They left the end of the
railroad and a short automobile ride put them down at the Tecolote
camp. Along the edge of the canyon, where the well-borers had
developed water, the framework of a gigantic mill and concentrator was
rapidly being rushed to completion. On the flats below, where Old
Juan's burros had browsed on the scanty mesquite, were long lines of
houses for the miners and a power plant to run the great stamps. A big
gang of miners were running cuts into the hillside where the first of
the ore was to come out and like a stream of ants the workmen and teams
swarmed about each mighty task, but still Rimrock Jones remained
silent. His eyes opened wider at sight of each new miracle but to
Jepson he made no comments.
They went to the assay house, where the diamond drill cores showed the
ore from the heart of the hills; and there at last Rimrock found his
tongue as he ran over the assayer's reports.
"Pretty good," he observed and this time it was Jepson who tightened
his lips and said nothing. "Pretty good," repeated Rimrock and then he
laughed silently and went out and sat down on the hill. "A mountain of
copper," he said, looking upward. "The whole butte is nothing but ore.
Some rich, some low-grade, but shattered--that's the idea! You can
scoop it up with a steam shovel."
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