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Updated: June 17, 2025
Taylor Bill and Blindeye Bozeman had been caught at work in a cross-cut tunnel which led to the property of the Blue Poppy mine, and one of them, at least, had admitted that the sole output of the Silver Queen had come from this thieving encroachment. Then Anita completed the recital, of the plans of the Rodaines to leave and of their departure for Center City.
Fairchild stared at her, then turned to Harry. "Who 's that with the Rodaines?" Harry looked furtively. "Crazy Laura his wife." "But " "And she ain't 'ere for anything good!" Harry's voice bore a tone of nervousness. "Squint Rodaine don't even recognize 'er on the street much less appear in company with 'er. Something's 'appening!" "But what could she testify to?" "'Ow should I know?"
"Well," he asked, "what do we do? Go up to the mine just like nothing 'ad ever 'appened?" "Exactly. Wait until I change my clothes. Then we 'll be ready to start. I 'm not even going to dignify this letter by replying to it. And for one principal reason " he added "that I think the Rodaines have something to do with it." "Ow so?" "I don't know.
Harry eyed it studiously. "You can see the silver sticking out!" he announced at last. "It's wonderful even if the Rodaines did do it." A form brushed past them, Blindeye Bozeman, returning from the celebration.
"That does n't alter the fact. I 'm your lawyer, and I 'm at your service. And I don't mind telling you that it's just about my first case. Otherwise, I don't guess I 'd have gotten it." "Why not?" The frankness had driven other queries from Fairchild's mind. Farrell, the attorney, grinned cheerily. "Because I understand it concerns the Rodaines.
What would have been the result? For once a ray of cheer came to him. The Rodaines had known of this strike long before he ever went to that office in Denver. They had waited long enough to have their assays made and had completed their first shipment to the smelter. There was no necessity that they buy the Blue Poppy mine.
October and the announcement had said that a certain girl would be married in the late fall, a girl who never looked in his direction any more, who had allowed her name to become affiliated with that of the Rodaines, now nearing the task of completing their two million.
"He wanted it it was the one thing that held the Rodaines off him. And he was dying slowly it was all I could do to help him, and I promised. But when he went I felt that my my duty was over. I don't consider myself bound to him any longer." "You 've told Rodaine so?" "Not yet. I I think that maybe that was one reason I wanted to see some one whom I believed to be a friend.
The evidence was both direct and circumstantial. To Fairchild's mind, there was small chance for escape by Harry, once his case went to trial. Nor did the pounding insistence of intuitive knowledge that the whole thing had been a deliberately staged plot on the part of the Rodaines, father and son, make the slightest difference in Fairchild's estimation. How could he prove it?
By personal animosity? There was the whole town of Ohadi to testify that the highwayman was a big man, of the build of Harry, and that he spoke with a Cornish accent. There were the sworn members of the posse to show that they, without guidance, had discovered the horse and the cache, and the Rodaines were nowhere about to help them.
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