At the Crossroads - BestLightNovel.com
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"h.e.l.lo, Rivers! I'm something of a surprise, eh?"
"h.e.l.l!" The word escaped Rivers as might a cry that followed a stunning blow.
A guilty person, taken by surprise, always imagines the worst. Rivers knew what he believed the man before him knew, he also believed much that Maclin had insinuated, or stated as fact, and he was thoroughly frightened and at a disadvantage.
His nerve was shattered by the recent interview with Mary-Clare; the earlier one with Maclin. Drink was befuddling him. It was like being in quicksand. He dared not move, but he felt himself sinking.
"Oh! don't take it too seriously, Rivers." Northrup felt a decent sympathy for the fellow across the table; his fear was agonizing. "We might as well get to an understanding without a preamble. I reckon there are a lot of things we can pa.s.s over while we tackle the main job."
"You d.a.m.ned----" Larry spluttered the words, but Northrup raised his hand as if staying further waste of time. He hated to take too great an advantage of a caged man.
"Of course, Rivers," he said, "I wouldn't have broken into your house and read your letters if there wasn't something rather big-sized at stake. So do not switch off on a siding--let's get through with this."
The tone and words were like a dash of icy water; Rivers moistened his lips and sank, mentally, into that position he loathed and yet could not escape. Someone was again getting control of him. He might writhe and strain, but he was caught once more--caught! caught!
"In G.o.d's name," he whispered, "who are you, anyway? What are you after?"
"That's what I'm here to tell you, Rivers."
"Go ahead then, go ahead!" Larry again moistened his dry lips--he felt that he was choking. He was ready to turn state's evidence as soon as he saw an opportunity. Debonair and clever, crafty and unfaithful, Larry had but one clear thought--he would not go behind bars again if one avenue of escape remained open!
Maclin--Maclin's secret business, loomed high, but at that moment Mary-Clare held no part in his desperate fear.
"What do you want?"
Then, as if falling into his mood, Northrup said calmly:
"First, I want the Point."
Larry's jaw dropped; but he felt convinced that it was Maclin or he who faced destruction and he meant to let Maclin suffer now as Maclin had once permitted him to suffer. If there was dirty work at the mines Maclin should pay. That was justice--Maclin had made a tool of him.
"I don't own the Point." Rivers heard his own voice as if from a distance. He had Mary-Clare's word that she would help him; the letter had done its overpowering work, but he had left confession and detail until later. Mary-Clare had pleaded for time, and he had come from her with his business unsettled.
"I think after we've finished with our talk you can prevail upon your wife to sell the Point to me and say nothing about it."
Rivers clutched the edge of the table. To his inflamed brain Northrup seemed to know all and everything--he dared not haggle.
"Who are you?" he repeated stammeringly. "What right have you to break into my place and read my papers? All I want to know is, what right have you? I cannot be expected to--to come to terms unless I know that. I should think you might see that." The bravado was so pitiful and weak that Northrup barely repressed a laugh.
"I don't want to turn the screws, Rivers," he said; "and of course you have a right to an answer to your question. I want the Point because I don't want Maclin to have it. Why he wants it, I'll find out after.
I'm illegally demanding things from you, but there are times when I believe such a course is justifiable in order to save everybody trouble. You could kick me out, or try to, but you won't. You could have the law on me--but I don't believe you will want it. Of course you know that _I_ know pretty well what I am about or I would not put myself in your power. So let's cut out the theatricals. Rivers, this Maclin isn't any good. Just how rotten he is can be decided later.
He's making a fool of you and you'll get a fool's pay. You know this.
I'm going to help you, Rivers, if I can. You need all the time there is for--getting away!"
Larry's face was livid. He was prepared to betray Maclin, but the old power held him captive.
"I dare not!" he groaned.
"Oh! yes, you dare. Brace up, Rivers. There is more than one way to tackle a bad job." Then, so suddenly that it took Rivers's breath, Northrup swept everything from sight by asking calmly: "What did you do with that letter you manufactured?"
So utterly unexpected was this attack, so completely aside from what seemed to be at stake, that Rivers concluded everything was known; that the very secrets of his innermost thoughts were in this man's knowledge. The quicksands all but engulfed him. With unblinking eyes he regarded Northrup as though hypnotized.
"I took it to her," he gasped.
"Your wife?"
"Yes."
"She does not suspect?"
"No."
"What did your wife say when she read the letter?"
"She's going to help me out."
"I see. All right, you're going to tell her that you want the Point and then you're going to sell it to me. Heathcote can fix this up in a few days--the money I pay you will get you out of Maclin's reach. If he makes a break for you, I'll grab him. I guess he's susceptible to scare, too, if the truth were known."
"My G.o.d! I want a drink." Larry looked as if he did; he rose and reeled over to the closet.
Northrup regarded his man closely and his fingers reached out and drew the scattered papers nearer.
"Take only enough to stiffen you up, a swallow or two, Rivers."
Larry obeyed mechanically and when he returned to his chair he was firmer.
"Rivers, I'm going to give you a chance by way of the only decent course open to you--or to me. G.o.d knows, it's smudgy enough at the best and crooked, but it's all I can muster. I don't expect you to understand me, or my motives--I'm going to talk as man to man, stripped bare. In the future you can work it out any way you're able to. What I want at the present is to clear the rubbish away that's cluttering the soul of a woman. That's enough and you can draw what d.a.m.ned conclusions you want to."
There was an ugly gleam in Larry's eyes. Men stripped bare show brutish traits, but he felt the straps that were binding him close.
"Go on!" he growled.
"You are to get your wife to give you this Point, Rivers. She may not want to, but you must force her a bit there by confessing to her the whole d.a.m.ned truth from start to finish about--these!"
Both men looked at the ma.s.s of papers.
"What all these things represent, you know." Larry did not move; he believed that Northrup knew, too. Knew of that year back in the past when his trick had been his ruin. "And your simply getting out of sight won't do. Your wife has got to be free--free, do you understand?
So long as she doesn't know the truth she'd have pity for you--women are like that--she's going to know all there is to know, and then she'll fling you off!"
In the hidden depths of Rivers's nature there heaved and roared something that, had Northrup not held the reins, would have meant battle to the death. It was not outraged honour, love, or justice that blinded and deafened Larry; it was simply the brutish resentment of the savage who, bound and gagged, watches a strong foe take all that he had believed was his by right of conquest. At that moment he hated Mary-Clare as he hated Northrup.
"You d.a.m.ned scoundrel!" he gasped. "And if I do what you suggest, what then?" He meant to force Northrup as far as he dared.
A look that Rivers was never to forget spread over Northrup's face; it was the look of one who had lived through experiences he knew he could not make clear. The impossibility of making Rivers comprehend him presently overcame Northrup. He spread his hands wide and said hopelessly:
"Nothing!"
"Like h.e.l.l, nothing!" Larry was desperate and brutal. Under all his bravado rang the note of defeat; terror, and a barren hope of escape that he loathed while he clung to it. "I don't know what Maclin's game is--I've played fair. Whatever you've got on him can't touch me, when the truth's out." Rivers was breathing hard; the sweat stood on his forehead. "But when it comes to selling your wife for hush money----"