Shadow Mountain Part 13

He tapped himself on the breast and smiled impressively, and Wiley nodded his head.

"All right," he said imperturbably, "when I want the Paymaster Mine I'll know right where to go."

"Yes, you come to me," went on Blount after a minute, "and I'll do the best I can." He paused expectantly, but Wiley did not speak, so he went on blandly, as before. "The stock, of course, is nona.s.sessable and the taxes are very small. I intend from now on to keep them paid up, so there will be no further tax sales. The stock of Mrs. Huff, which I now hold as collateral security, is practically mine already, as she has defaulted on her first month's interest and is preparing to leave the state. Of course, there is the stock which your father is holding--as I calculate, something over two hundred thousand shares--and what little remains outside; but if you are interested in the mine I am the man to talk to, so what would you like to propose?"

"Well," began Wiley, and then he stopped and seemed to be lost in thought. "I'll tell you," he said, "I was interested in the Paymaster--I believe there's something there; but I've got some other propositions that I can handle a little easier, so if you don't mind we'll wait a while."

"No, but Wiley," protested Blount as his man rose up to go, "now just sit down; I'm not quite through. Now I know just as well as you do that you take a great interest in that mine. Your troubles with Mrs. Huff and Stiff Neck George prove conclusively that such is the case; and I am convinced that, either from your father or some other source, you have valuable inside information. Now I must admit that I'm not a mining man and my management was not a success; but with your technical education and all the rest, I am convinced that the results would be different.

No, there's no use denying it, because I know myself that you've been buying up Paymaster stock."

"Sure," agreed Wiley, "I bought four hundred dollars worth. That would break the Bank of Vegas. But you've got lots of money--why don't you hire a competent mining man and go after that lost ore-body yourself?"

"I may do that," replied Blount easily, "but in the meantime why not make me a reasonable offer, or take the mine on shares?"

"If the Paymaster," observed Wiley, "was the only mine in the world, I'd make you a proposition in a minute. But a man in my position doesn't have to buy his mines, and I never work anything on shares."

"Well, now Wiley, I've got another proposition, which you may or may not approve; but there's no harm, I hope, if I mention it. You know there's been a difference between me and your father since--well, since the Paymaster shut down. I respect him very much and have nothing but the kindliest feelings towards him but he--well, you know how it is. But I have been informed, Wiley, that since Colonel Huff's death, your father has been bidding for his stock. In fact, I have seen a letter written to Mrs. Huff in which he offers her ten cents a share. Now, of course, if you want to gain control of the company, I'm willing to do what's right; and so, after thinking it over, I have come to the conclusion that I will accept that offer now."

"Umm," responded Wiley, squinting his eyes down shrewdly, "how much would that come to, in all?"

"Well, twenty-one thousand, eight hundred dollars, for what I received from Mrs. Huff; but of course--well, he'd have to buy a little more of me in order to get positive control."

"How much more?" asked Wiley, but Blount's crooked mouth pulled down in a crafty smile.

"We can discuss that later," he suggested mildly. "Do you think he will buy the stock?"

"Not if he takes my advice," answered Wiley coldly. "I can buy the whole block for eight hundred."

"How?"

"Why, by loaning Mrs. Huff the eight hundred dollars with which to take up her note."

"I doubt it," replied Blount, and his mild, deceiving eyes took on the faintest shadow of a threat. "Mrs. Huff has defaulted on her first month's interest and, according to the terms of her note, the collateral automatically pa.s.ses to me."

"Well, keep it, then," burst out Wiley, "and I hope to G.o.d you get stuck for every cent. Your old mine isn't worth a dam'!"

"Why--Wiley!" gasped Blount, quite shaken for the moment by this disastrous piece of news, "what reason have you for thinking that?"

"Give me a hundred dollars as an advising expert and I'll tell you--and show you, too."

"No, I hardly think so," answered Blount at last. "And, Wiley, you don't think so, either."

"No?" challenged Wiley. "Well, you just watch my smoke and see whether I do or not."

He had closed the door before Blount dragged him back like a haggling, relentless p.a.w.n-broker.

"Make me a proposition," he clamored desperately, "and if it's anywhere in reason I'll accept it."

"All right," answered Wiley, "but show me what you've got--I don't buy any cat in a bag."

"And will you make me an offer?" demanded Blount hopefully. "Will you take the whole thing off my hands?"

"I will if it's good--but you'll have to show me first that you've got a controlling share of the stock. And another thing, Mr. Blount, since our time is equally valuable, let's cut out this four-flus.h.i.+ng stuff. If I'd wanted your mine so awfully bad I'd have held on to it when the t.i.tle was mine; but I turned it back to you, just to let you look it over, and to keep the peace for once. But now, if you're satisfied, I might look it over; but it'll be under a bond and lease. The parties I represent are strictly business, and we make it a rule to tie everything up tight before we put out a cent. I'll want an option on every share you have, and I can't offer more than ten per cent royalty; but to compensate for that I'll agree to pay in full or vacate within six months from date."

"But how much?" demanded Blount, brus.h.i.+ng aside all the details, "how much will you pay me a share?"

"I'll pay you," stated Wiley, "what I paid Death Valley Charley, and that's five cents a share."

"Five cents!" shrilled Blount, rising up in protest, yet jumping at the price like a trout, "five cents--why, that's practically nothing!"

"Just five cents more than nothing," observed Wiley judicially and waited for Blount to rave.

"But your father," suggested Blount with a knowing leer, "is in the market at ten."

"No, not in the market. He offered that to the Widow, but now the deal is off, because all of her stock has changed hands."

"Well, the stock is the same," suggested Blount insinuatingly. "Give me seven and a half and split the profits."

"Now don't be a crook," rapped out Wiley angrily. "Just because you would rob your own father doesn't by any means prove that I will."

"Well, you certainly implied," protested Blount with injured innocence, "that this stock was to be sold to your father. And if it is worth that to him, why is it worth less to you? You must be working together."

"No, we're not," declared Wiley. "I'm in on this alone, and have been, from the start. And just to set your mind at rest--he didn't make that offer because he wanted the stock, but to kind of help out the Widow."

"Ah," smiled Blount, and nodded his head wisely, but there was a playful light in his eyes.

"Yes--ah!" flashed back Wiley, "and if you think you're so danged smart I'll let you keep your old mine a few months."

He started for the door again but Blount dragged him back and laid a metal box on the table.

"Well, let's get down to business," he said with quick decision, and spread a heap of papers before his eyes. "There are all my Paymaster shares, and if you'll take them off my hands you can have them for six cents, cash."

"I said five," returned Wiley, as he ran through the papers, "and an option to buy in six months. But this stock of the Widow's--I can't take that at any price--the Colonel isn't legally dead."

"What?" yelled Blount, and sat down in a chair while he stared at the inscrutable Wiley.

"His body was never found and, under the law, he can't be declared dead for seven years. Mrs. Huff had no right to sell his stock."

"Oh, but he's dead, Wiley," a.s.sured Blount. "Surely there's no doubt of that. They found his burro, and his letters and everything; and where he had run wild through the sand. If that storm hadn't come up they would certainly have found his body--the Indian trailers said so; so why stick on a technicality?"

"That's the law," said Wiley. "You know it yourself. But of course, if you want to vote this stock at a Directors' meeting we can still do business on that lease."

"Oh, my Lord!" sighed Blount, and after a heavy silence he rose up and paced the floor. As for Wiley, he ran through the papers, making notes of dates and numbers, and then grimly began to fill out a legal blank.

"There's the option," he said, pa.s.sing over a paper, "and I see now how you double-crossed my father. So you don't need to sign unless you want to."

"Why--er--what's that?" exclaimed Blount, coming out of his abstraction as Wiley slapped down the bundle of certificates.

"I see by these endors.e.m.e.nts," replied Wiley, "that you sold out before the panic and bought in all this stock afterwards."