The Spoilers of the Valley Part 50

"Yes!--what is it?"

"Does anyone else up here know that you are the same person who--who was recaptured that night?"

"Yes!--one other knows."

"Jim Langford?"

"No, not Jim--although I think I may have to tell him some day. It is awkward at times."

"Your secret would be safe with him."

"I know it would."

"If it isn't Jim who knows, it can be only one other," she reasoned, "Mayor Brenchfield."

"Yes!"

"Is he likely to betray you?"

"He would if he felt free to do it;--but as things stand, he daren't."

"Oh!"

That simple little word which can mean so many things, was Eileen's answer.

She sighed, then she brightened up again.

"Well!--that has been got rid of, anyway."

On climbing the steepest part of the hill road, she questioned Phil once more.

"Do you intend making blacksmithing your life's business?"

"Why? Isn't it a good calling?"

"Oh, yes! My dad was a blacksmith for the most of his life. But I think you are intended for something different, something bigger than that. You have had more education, for one thing, than my dear old daddy had."

Phil laughed.

"That is quite flattering--but your dad has my education beaten a thousand miles by his experience and shrewdness. I guess I shall have to keep to blacksmithing until I get some money ahead and until that 'something different' that you speak of, turns up."

"I should dearly love to see you and Jim in partners.h.i.+p. You would make a great team, for you never quarrel."

"Is that the secret of successful business partners.h.i.+p?"

"I think it is an important one of them."

"I daresay you are right," said Phil. "But what are we to do?"

"What do others do? Look at the men without brains, without even business ability, who have made money--heaps of it--buying and selling land right in this Valley, in this town, and who started in without a dollar. Why,--I could name them by the score;--Fraser & Somerville; McWilliams; Peter Brixton; McIntyre & Anderson, and even that good-for-nothing, Rattlesnake Dalton;--why, the town swarms with them. If they can do it, what could not two smart men, honest, with up-to-date business methods, do? Property has been changing owners hand-over-fist lately and I know it is merely the beginning.

Next year property will move faster than ever; money for investment is pouring in; the people are flocking westward; values are rising; the ranches are producing more than ever; prices are improving; irrigation schemes are afoot;--why, it simply cannot be held back.

Dad, Mayor Brenchfield, Ben Todd,--they are all antic.i.p.ating it."

Phil almost gasped at Eileen's enthusiasm.

"They are the monied land-owners, the vested interests," he put in.

"It suits them to antic.i.p.ate."

"And, believe me, they will realise," retorted Eileen.

"Almost thou persuadest me to be a real estate agent," he bantered.

"Well,--one thing I do know; no man ever got very far ahead working for the other fellow. If a man isn't worth more to himself than he is to someone else, you can bet that someone else is not going to employ him."

"You talk as if you had worked it all out, Miss Pederstone."

"I have, too!" she went on. "If you are holding down a job at a fair price, it ought to be a sufficient indication to you that you should be at it on your own account."

Eileen's ardour set a spark aglow in Phil, but, manlike, he was p.r.o.ne to ignore it and even to argue against her conclusions.

"You must pardon me if I have said too much," apologised Eileen at last, "only, only I have tried to speak for your own good, and Jim's, for there is so much good in Jim that just wants elbow room;--and besides, knowing what I know, I should like so much to see _you_ make good."

"I haven't any fear at all of the ultimate 'making good,'" replied Phil. "I have always known that it would come sooner or later. It has never been merely a hope with me, it has been an inward knowledge since I was quite a little chap."

"Why then, that knowledge, backed by your every endeavour, cannot fail to realise great success for you. It is fear of failure that kills so many successful ventures before their birth. Without fear--which is at best a cowardly bugaboo, the world would be heaven."

"Well,--heaven is where the devil isn't," said Phil, "so fear must be the very devil himself."

"Fear is the only devil I know," a.s.serted Eileen.

"I am afraid I have the misfortune to be acquainted with quite a lot of other little devils," he laughed.

They crossed the road together, along the west-end of Mayor Brenchfield's local ranch and town house, which was divided from the new Royce Pederstone property by the big house and grounds which that eccentric Englishman, Percival DeRue Hannington, had bought for himself and now occupied in lordly bachelordom.

Several of Brenchfield's stables and out-houses were situated quite close to the roadway.

In pa.s.sing, Phil observed a faint light in one of these, which swung as if in the hands of someone moving about.

As they continued along, he fancied he heard the sound of voices, one of which rose and fell as if in anger.

His momentary curiosity caused him to stop conversing and to listen more intently.

One of the voices rose again; there was the distinct sound of the crack of a whip, followed by a high-pitched throaty articulation as of an animal in pain. It sounded so helpless and piteous, that Eileen drew herself up nervously and shuddered. She gripped at Phil's arm.

Ever suspicious where Brenchfield or any of his followers were concerned, and quickly roused to anger at the slightest abuse shown to any of the lower creation, Phil acted on the impulse of the moment.

"Please stay here for a second, Eil--Miss Pederstone. I am going over to see what is doing there."