The Flying U's Last Stand [33]
eagerly forward.
Trouble met him with hard, brown eyes and corn yellow hair blown in loose strands across cheeks roughened by the spring winds and sun-glare of Montana. Trouble pulled up and twisted sidewise in the seat and kicked the heads off some wild larkspurs with her whip while her tongue flayed the soul of Andy Green with sarcasm.
"Well, I have found out just how you helped me colonize this tract, Mr. Green," she began with a hard inflection under the smoothness of her voice. "I must compliment you upon your promptness and thoroughness in the matter; for an amateur you have made a remarkable showing--in--in treachery and deceit. I really did not suppose you had it in you."
"Remember, I told you I might buy in if it looked good to me," Andy reminded her in the mildest tone of which he was capable--and he could be as mild as new milk when he chose.
Florence Grace Hallman looked at him with a lift of her full upper lip at the left side. "It does look good, then? You told Mr. Graham and that Mr. Wirt a different story, Mr. Green. You told them this land won't raise white beans, and you were at some pains, I believe, to explain why it would not. You convinced them, by some means or other, that the whole tract is practically worthless for agricultural purposes. Both Mr. Wirt and Mr. Graham had some capital to invest here, and now they are leaving, and they have persuaded several others to leave with them. Does it really look good to you--this land proposition?"
"Not your proposition--no, it don't." Andy faced her with a Keen level glance as hard as her own. One could get the truth straight from the shoulder if one pushed Andy Green into a corner. "You know and I know that you're trying to cold-deck this bunch. The land won't raise white beans or anything else without water, and you know it. You can plant folks on the land and collect your money and tell 'em goodbye and go to it--and that settles your part of it. But how about the poor devils that put in their time and money?"
Florence Grace Hallman spread her hands in a limited gesture because of the reins, and smiled unpleasantly. "And yet, you nearly broke your neck filing on the land yourself and getting a lot of your friends to file," she retorted. "What was your object, Mr. Green--since the land is worthless?"
"My object don't matter to anyone but myself." Andy busied himself with his smoking material and did not look at her.
"Oh, but it Does! It matters to me, Mr. Green, and to my company, and to our clients."
"I'll have to buy me a new dictionary," Andy observed casually, reaching behind him to scratch a match on the skirt of his saddle. "The one I've got don't say anything about 'client' and 'victim' meaning the same thing. It's getting all outa date."
"I brought enough clients--" she emphasized the word--" to settle every eighty acres of land in that whole tract. The policy of the company was eminently fair. We guaranteed to furnish a claim of eighty, acres to every person who joined our homeseekers' Club, and free pasturage to all the stock they wanted to bring. Failing to do that, we pledged ourselves to refund the fee and pay all return expenses. We could have located every member of this lot, and more--only for YOU."
"Say, it'd be just as easy to swear as to say 'you' in that tone uh voice," Andy pointed out placidly.
"You managed to gobble up just exactly four thousand acres of this tract--and you were careful to get all the water and all the best land. That means you have knocked us out of fifty settlements--"
"Fifty wads of coin to hand back to fifty come-ons, and fifty return tickets for fifty fellows glad to get back--tough luck, ain't it?" Andy smiled sympathetically. "You oughta be glad I saved your conscience that much of a load, anyway."
Florence Grace Hallman bit her lip to control her rage. "Smart talk isn't going to help you, Mr. Green. You've simply placed yourself in a position you can't' hold. You've put it up to us to fight--and we're going to do it. I'm playing fair with you. I'll tell you this much:
Trouble met him with hard, brown eyes and corn yellow hair blown in loose strands across cheeks roughened by the spring winds and sun-glare of Montana. Trouble pulled up and twisted sidewise in the seat and kicked the heads off some wild larkspurs with her whip while her tongue flayed the soul of Andy Green with sarcasm.
"Well, I have found out just how you helped me colonize this tract, Mr. Green," she began with a hard inflection under the smoothness of her voice. "I must compliment you upon your promptness and thoroughness in the matter; for an amateur you have made a remarkable showing--in--in treachery and deceit. I really did not suppose you had it in you."
"Remember, I told you I might buy in if it looked good to me," Andy reminded her in the mildest tone of which he was capable--and he could be as mild as new milk when he chose.
Florence Grace Hallman looked at him with a lift of her full upper lip at the left side. "It does look good, then? You told Mr. Graham and that Mr. Wirt a different story, Mr. Green. You told them this land won't raise white beans, and you were at some pains, I believe, to explain why it would not. You convinced them, by some means or other, that the whole tract is practically worthless for agricultural purposes. Both Mr. Wirt and Mr. Graham had some capital to invest here, and now they are leaving, and they have persuaded several others to leave with them. Does it really look good to you--this land proposition?"
"Not your proposition--no, it don't." Andy faced her with a Keen level glance as hard as her own. One could get the truth straight from the shoulder if one pushed Andy Green into a corner. "You know and I know that you're trying to cold-deck this bunch. The land won't raise white beans or anything else without water, and you know it. You can plant folks on the land and collect your money and tell 'em goodbye and go to it--and that settles your part of it. But how about the poor devils that put in their time and money?"
Florence Grace Hallman spread her hands in a limited gesture because of the reins, and smiled unpleasantly. "And yet, you nearly broke your neck filing on the land yourself and getting a lot of your friends to file," she retorted. "What was your object, Mr. Green--since the land is worthless?"
"My object don't matter to anyone but myself." Andy busied himself with his smoking material and did not look at her.
"Oh, but it Does! It matters to me, Mr. Green, and to my company, and to our clients."
"I'll have to buy me a new dictionary," Andy observed casually, reaching behind him to scratch a match on the skirt of his saddle. "The one I've got don't say anything about 'client' and 'victim' meaning the same thing. It's getting all outa date."
"I brought enough clients--" she emphasized the word--" to settle every eighty acres of land in that whole tract. The policy of the company was eminently fair. We guaranteed to furnish a claim of eighty, acres to every person who joined our homeseekers' Club, and free pasturage to all the stock they wanted to bring. Failing to do that, we pledged ourselves to refund the fee and pay all return expenses. We could have located every member of this lot, and more--only for YOU."
"Say, it'd be just as easy to swear as to say 'you' in that tone uh voice," Andy pointed out placidly.
"You managed to gobble up just exactly four thousand acres of this tract--and you were careful to get all the water and all the best land. That means you have knocked us out of fifty settlements--"
"Fifty wads of coin to hand back to fifty come-ons, and fifty return tickets for fifty fellows glad to get back--tough luck, ain't it?" Andy smiled sympathetically. "You oughta be glad I saved your conscience that much of a load, anyway."
Florence Grace Hallman bit her lip to control her rage. "Smart talk isn't going to help you, Mr. Green. You've simply placed yourself in a position you can't' hold. You've put it up to us to fight--and we're going to do it. I'm playing fair with you. I'll tell you this much: