British -- Canada -- Fiction; Love stories; Ranchers -- Canada, Western -- Fiction
Devine sat still for several moments, with the little sardonic smile
growing plainer in his eyes, and Brooke, who felt the tension, fancied
that Saxton was becoming uneasy. There was a curious silence in the
room, through which the whirr of an elevator jarred harshly.
"One dollar," he said.
Saxton gasped. "Bluff!" he said. "That's not going to count with me. You
want a full hand to carry it through, and the one you're holding isn't
strong enough. Now, I'll put down my cards."
"One dollar," said Devine, drily.
Saxton stood up abruptly, and gazed at him in astonishment, with
quivering fingers and tightening lips. "I tell you your patent's no
good."
"I know it is."
Again there was silence, and Brooke saw that Saxton was holding himself
in with difficulty.
"Still, you want to keep your mine," he said.
"You can have it for what I asked you, and if you can clear the cost of
working, it's more than I can do. The Canopus was played out quite a
while ago."
Even Brooke was startled, and Saxton sat down with all his customary
assurance gone out of him. His mouth opened loosely, he seemed to grow
suddenly limp, and his cigar shook visibly in his nerveless fingers.
"Now," he said, and stopped while a quiver of futile anger seemed to run
through him, "that's the last thing I expected. What'd you put up that
wire sling for? I can't figure out your game."
Devine laughed. "It's quite easy. You have just about sense enough to
worry anybody, or you wouldn't have dumped that ore into the Dayspring,
and worked off one of the richest mines in the province on to me. Well,
when I saw you meant to strike me on the Canopus, I just let you get to
work because it suited me. I figured it would keep you busy while I took
out timber-rights and bought up land round the Dayspring. Nobody
believed in Allonby, and I got what I wanted at quite a reasonable
figure. I'm holding the mine and everything worth while now. There's
nothing left for you, and I guess it would be wiser to get hold of a man
of your own weight next time."
Saxton's face was colorless, but he put a restraint upon himself as he
turned to Brooke.
"You knew just what this man meant to do?"
"Oh, yes," said Devine, drily. "He told me quite a while ago. You're
going? Haven't you any use for that dollar?"
Saxton said nothing whatever, but the door slammed behind him, and
Brooke, who, in spite of Devine's protests, went back to the Dayspring
that evening, never saw him again.
XXVIII.
BROOKE DOES NOT COME BACK.
Devine went home a little earlier than usual after Saxton left him, and
dusk was not far away when he sat recounting the affair in his wife's
drawing-room. She listened with keen appreciation, and then looked up at
him.
"But where is Brooke?" she said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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