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But months are short when there is work to do, when machinery must be installed, and when contracts are waiting. Every day, every hour, every minute counted now. And as if in answer to their thoughts, the operator straightened, with a little gesture of hopelessness. "Guess it's all off," came at last. "The general superintendent in Denver's on the wire.
He had invited Denver once to come down to his house and share the hospitality of his home; but, after Denver's brusque, almost brutal refusal, Old Bunk had never been the same. He had shown Denver his claim and stated the price and told a few stories on the side, but he had shown in many ways that his pride had been hurt and that he did not fully approve.
A free country for free men like the old Black Jack and the new. A short life, perhaps, but a full one. The coming of the day showed Denver's face weary and drawn. Those moments in the bank, surrounded by danger, had been nerve-racking even to his experience. But to him it was a business, and to Terry it was a game.
"It's a go!" he exulted, "the silver wins!" And he bounded off down the trail. A weight like that of Pelion and Ossa seemed lifted from Denver's shoulders as he hurried down from Apache Leap and, with his wallet in his hip pocket, he strode straight to Bunker's house. The eagle had chosen for him, and chosen right, and the last of his troubles was over.
"Bay Denver's broke out uh the little pasture," announced the Old Man, putting his head in at the door of the blacksmith shop where Chip was hammering gayly upon a bent branding iron, for want of a better way to kill time and give vent to his surplus energy. "I wish you'd saddle up an' go after him, Chip, if yuh can. I just seen him takin' down the coulee trail like a scared coyote."
He was on his big bay, yet not out after cattle he was coming straight towards him. Denver caught his breath, and waited. "Mornin', Denver," said Bunker Hill, "here's a letter that come for you I forgot to send it down." He fumbled in his pocket and Denver's heart stood still, but it was only his check from the smelter.
I have twice come on corpses swinging in the wind, hung from trees or telegraph posts. But the most distressing sight witnessed was in Denver's fair city when a man, still alive, was dragged to death all through the streets by a rope round his neck, followed by a howling mob!
This was Denver's most civilized restaurant that one which Mr. McLean had remembered, with foreign dishes and private rooms, where he had promised himself, among other things, champagne. Mr. McLean had never been inside it, but heard a tale from a friend; and now he caught a sudden sight of people among geraniums, with plumes and white shirt-fronts, very elegant.
"Well, I can't stand here talking," answered Denver impatiently and went off and left him staring. It certainly was unbelievable that any reasoning creature should prefer confinement and disgrace to freedom, but the iron had burned deep into Denver's soul and his one desire now was revenge.
Before sailing for Europe, Grace had at her brother's suggestion given Douglass power of attorney for the handling of her interests, and he had duly deposited her share of the proceeds to her credit in Denver's best bank, notifying her brother of the disposition of the fund and suggesting that it be retained there until her return, when it could be presented as an agreeable surprise.
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