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For the latter he spared scant sympathy; but it was Joan who would be stricken by any action he might take, and the action must be taken, and would necessarily be taken publicly. Under criminal procedure men had served long terms behind bars for less offenses than Presby's. Others had made reparation through payment of money, and slunk away into the shadows of disgrace to avoid handcuffs.
I did not know that you were in charge of the property." He was surprised to notice that Presby's heavy brows adjusted themselves to a scowl. He wondered why the mine owner should be antagonistic to him, when there was nothing at stake. "Well, I am," asserted Presby. "I hired the watchman up there, and I see to it that all the stuff lying around loose isn't stolen."
Presby's face did not change in the least, nor did he shift his eyes. There was an instant's pause, and he showed no inclination to speak. "'Most every one around these diggings seems to be kind of buffaloed by you," Bill added; "but I sort of reckon we ain't like them.
I'm handin' it to you right straight, so you and me won't have any trouble after this, because if we do well, we'd have to find out which was the better man." Bully Presby's eyes flashed a singular look. It seemed as if they carried something of approval, and at the same time a longing to test the question of physical superiority. And then, abruptly, he laughed.
Bully Presby's word is as good as his gold. You know that! I don't know anything about you. I don't hate you, because you are fighting for your own! Somehow I feel as if the bottom had been knocked out of everything, all at once! I wish you'd go now. I want to have her alone I want to talk to her just the way I used to, before before " He had gone to the limit.
He thought of that harsh encounter on the trail, and his assertion that he was capable of attending to his own business and asked neither friendship nor favor from any man under the skies; of Bully Presby's gruff reply, and of their passing each other a second time, in the streets of Goldpan, without recognition.
If she were Bully Presby's daughter, he might never gain her father's consent, though the Croix d'Or were in the list of producers.
A muffled, beating, rending sound seemed to tear its way, vibrant, through the solid ledge. He leaped forward, understanding all at once, as if in a flash of illumination, what the woman he loved and his partner had been waiting for. It was the sound of the five-o'clock blasts from the Rattler, as it stole the ore from beneath their feet. It was the audible proof of Bully Presby's theft. "Joan!
Bully Presby's chair went clashing back against the wall, where he kicked it as he leaped to his feet. He ran around the end of the desk, throwing Dick aside as he did so with one fierce sweep of his arm. "Joan!" he said brokenly, laying his hand on her head. "Joan! My little Joan! Get up, girl, and come here to your Dad!" She did not move.
She had the old-fashioned corals her mother had given to her on her first trip to Newport. There was also the beautiful ruby, which had been Mr. Presby's gift to her from the rich stores of his buried treasure. And the Princess Sophia had made Bab a present of a beautiful gold star when they were at Palm Beach. Barbara's other jewelry was marked with her initials.
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