From the Valley of the Missing Part 51

In the meantime Lon watched eagerly for the coming of Lem. When at last he espied the scow fastened in its accustomed place, he went down to carry the news to the owner. After explaining the matter as far as it had gone, he ventured:

"Lem, be ye carin' for Flea yet?"

"Why?" demanded Lem suspiciously.

"'Cause we can make some money outen her, if ye gives up yer claim on her."

"Ye mean to sell her?"

Lem's words sounded hoa.r.s.e as he wheezed them out.

"'Tain't sellin' her," explained Lon. "A whollopin' good-lookin' feller wants her, and he says he'll buy yer off and give me money fer her. Will ye do it, Lem?"

"Nope, I won't! I want her myself. I been waiting long 'nough fer her."

"But wouldn't ye ruther have a pocketful of money? I would, I bet ye!"

"Lon, be ye goin' to do me dirt?" asked Lem darkly.

Lon straightened his shoulders.

"Nope, I told him ye had to be buyed off, afore I could say nothin'. But I thought ye liked money, Lem."

"So I do; but I like Flea better. I helped ye get 'em when they were babies, Lon, and ye said--"

Cronk flung out his arms.

"I said as how ye wasn't to mention aloud, even to me, that the kids wasn't mine. Ye has Flea, if ye say so, and I'll tell the lawyer--"

"Be it that good-lookin' feller what ye give the fifty dollars to what wants Flea?" Cronk nodded. "I thought ye wouldn't let me marry her," Lem cried, "and now ye be goin'--"

Lon interrupted the scowman fiercely:

"Nuther is he goin' to marry her--ye can bet on that! No kid of Vandecar's gets a boost up from me--a boost down, more like!"

"I'll kill the feller if he touches her," growled Lem, "and ye can make up yer mind to that, Lon!"

Lon Cronk shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.

"Take her if ye want her, Lem. I won't put no straw in yer way. But I never could see what ye wanted her fer. She's a big mouth to feed, let me tell ye!"

For some moments the two men sat in the darkening scow and smoked in silence. Suddenly Lem looked up.

"We couldn't get ahead of the nasty scamp, could we, Lon? I mean, could we git the money, and then keep the gal?"

"I don't want her," growled Lon; "she couldn't stay with me no more."

"We oughter make him pay the money, though," Lem insisted.

"Then, if ye has Flea, Lem," said Lon, looking keenly at the scowman, "and ye git yer share of money, ye has to share up yer half with me.

See?"

"Yep," muttered Lem. "Will ye bring the feller down here some day, and we'll talk it over?"

Lon acquiesced by a nod of his head, saying only, "Come on out, and let's get a drink."

"When's he goin' to git 'em--Flea and Flukey, I mean?"

"I dunno. The boy's too sick to come to court. He's liable to die any minute."

Lem started forward at the unexpected word.

"If he croaks, be ye goin' to leave Flea there?"

"Not by a d.a.m.n sight! We'll git her, and I don't care if the boy goes dead afore mornin'. I only want him to suffer, and die if he wants to.

And, Lem," Lon smiled evilly, and, looking into the swart face of his pal, said, "and I guess ye can make the gal come to yer likin'."

Lem's throat worked visibly, his face reddened by the silent laughter that shook him.

"I only want the chance," he said. "Come on and let's git a drink."

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Everett Brimbecomb had become impatient. He missed his evenings with Ann, and was tortured with the thought that Horace was with Fledra.

Every day made his hatred for his former friend more deadly, more vindictive, and he not only desired to take the squatter girl away, but he felt impelled to separate Ann from her brother. He received a badly spelled note from Lon with a feeling of thanksgiving. Something had happened to make the squatter wish to see him. So, after dinner, he took the direction Lon had given, and reached the scow in a heavy rain. It was much more to his liking that the evening should be stormy; for no person of his own station in life would be apt to be abroad on such a night.

As he entered the living-room of the scow, Everett bowed frigidly to Lem Crabbe, and forgot to extend his hand to Lon.

"You sent for me," he said in a low tone, looking at the squatter.

"Yep. I knowed ye wanted to see Lem, and I thought as how ye'd ruther come here than have him come along to yer office. Ain't that right?"

"I believe I told you so," responded Everett coldly, as he took his place in a rickety chair.

"Ye said, didn't ye, Mister, that ye wanted the handlin' of Flea after we took her away from that meddlin' millionaire?"

"Yes."

"And I telled ye that ye had to make a bargain with Lem, 'cause he had first right to her. What ye willin' to give?"

"How much money do you want to withdraw your claim from the girl?"

"I ain't thought 'bout no price," replied Lem covertly.