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Updated: May 31, 2025
Changing his tactics, his breath lagging in his throat from the terrible pressure on it, Trevison worked his right hand into the other's stomach with the force and regularity of a piston rod. The big man writhed under the punishment, dropping his hand from Trevison's chin to his waist, swung him from his feet and threw him from him as a man throws a bag of meal.
The name, Jefferson Corrigan, appeared as plaintiff in the action. Lefingwell was watching Trevison's face closely, and when he saw it whiten, he muttered, understandingly: "You've got it, too, eh?" "Yes." Trevison shoved the paper into a pocket. "Looks like you're not going to be skinned alone, Lefingwell. Well, so-long; I'll see you later."
"I've been wantin' to spake a word wid ye for two weeks now about thim cows which me brother in Illinoy has been askin' me about, an' divvil a chance have I had to see ye!" And as he yanked Trevison's shoulders downward with a sudden pressure that there was no resisting, he whispered, rapidly. "Diputies thirty av thim wid Winchesters on the other side av the flat-cars.
In the clinch the big man's right hand came up, the heel of the palm shoved with malignant ferocity against Trevison's chin. Corrigan's left arm was around Trevison's waist, squeezing it like a vise, and the whole strength of Corrigan's right arm was exerted to force the other's head back. Trevison tried to slip his head sideways to escape the hold, but the effort was fruitless.
It means that he turned me down cold, dearie." "Do you mean " began the girl, gripping the table edge. "I mean that I lied to you. The night I went over to Trevison's ranch he told me plainly that he didn't like me one teenie, weenie bit any more. He wouldn't kiss me, shake my hand, or welcome me in any way.
Experienced men would know better than to crack a safe in a courthouse when there's a bank right next door. I've an idea that it was some of Trevison's work. You've done or said something that's given him the notion that you've got the original record. Have you?" "I swear I have said nothing," declared the Judge. Corrigan looked at him steadily for a moment and then released him.
He saw Trevison's hands clench, and he laughed in grim amusement. It pleased him to see his enemy writhe and squirm before him; the grimness came because of a mental picture, in his mind at this minute, of Trevison confiding in the girl. He looked up, the smile freezing on his lips, for within a foot of his chest was the muzzle of Trevison's pistol.
When his thoughts dwelt upon the scene at the butte during Trevison's visit while the mining machinery was being erected the trap that Corrigan had prepared for the man a grim smile wreathed his face, for he strongly suspected what was meant by Trevison's visit to the dynamite shed.
And she had a desperate hope that the dismal aspect of Trevison's future would appall Hester as it would were the woman still the mercenary creature she had been ten years before. But Hester looked at her with grave imperturbability. "I heard something about his trouble. About some land, isn't it? I didn't learn the particulars. Tell me about it won't you, dearie?"
But understand this: If you double-cross me in any detail of this game, you'll never go to the penitentiary for what Benham knows about you I'll choke the gizzard out of you!" He took a turn around the room, stopping at last in front of the Judge. "Now we'll talk business. I want you to issue an order permitting me to erect mining machinery on Trevison's land. We need coal here."
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