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Updated: June 29, 2025
The superintendent knew Flemister a little, as he had admitted to the president; and he also knew that some of his evil qualities were of the sort which appeal, by the law of opposites, to the normal woman, the woman who would condemn evil in the abstract, perhaps, only to be irresistibly drawn by some of its purely masculine manifestations.
For one thing, he would have known that Flemister had not spent the afternoon losing his money across the faro-table; and for another, he might have made sure, by listening to the subdued voices beyond the closed door, that the man he was shadowing was not alone in the back room to which he had retreated.
She's there, all right, and they didn't care enough to even muffle her exhaust." Lidgerwood took a slender gold-banded cigar from his desk-box, and passed the box to the ex-engineer. "We'll get Mr. Pennington Flemister and before he is very many hours older," he said definitely. And then: "I wish we were a little more certain of the other man."
"He was, and Flemister beat him out of it lock, stock, and barrel: just simply reached out an' took it. Then, when he'd done that, he reached out and took Hallock's wife just to make it a clean sweep, was the way he bragged about it." "Heavens and earth!" ejaculated the listener.
Goodloe had come on up the track to find out what had happened." "And you didn't see Flemister or Hallock again?" "No." "Flemister told us he got the news by 'phone, and when he said it the wreck was no more than an hour old. He couldn't have walked down from the mine in that time. Where could he have got the message, and from whom?" Judson was shaking his head.
Judson knew nothing about the letter in which Flemister had promised to arrange for a meeting between Lidgerwood and the ranchman Grofield. What he did know was that he had followed Hallock almost to the door of Flemister's office, and that he had seen a shadowed face on the office window-shade which could be no other than the face of the chief clerk.
"I'd kill Flemister on sight, if I had the sand; you know that, Gridley. Some day it may come to that. But in the meantime " "In the meantime you have been snapping at his heels like a fice-dog, Hallock; holding out ore-cars on him, delaying his coal supplies, stirring up trouble with his miners. That was all right, up to yesterday. But now it has got to stop."
"But this trap scheme of yours," protested the other man; "it's a frost, I tell you! You say the night passenger from Red Butte is late. I know it's late, now; but Cranford's running it, and it is all down-hill from Red Butte to the bridge. Cranford will make up his thirty minutes, and that will put his train right here in the thick of things. Call it off for to-night, Flemister.
It was a bid for a renewal of the quarrel which was never more than half veiled between these two. But Gridley did not lift the challenge. "Let it go at that," he said placably. "But if you should decide to stay, I want you to let up on Flemister." The morose antagonism died out of Hallock's eyes, and in its place came craft.
The Wire-Silver mine was five miles distant from the main line at Little Butte, at the end of a spur; if the extension should be built, it would be a main-line station, with all the advantages accruing therefrom. Flemister was merely putting the personal animosities aside for a good and sufficient business reason. Lidgerwood looked at his watch.
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