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Updated: June 12, 2025
He, Martinez, must be discreet; it would not do to risk gaining Weir's enmity. That cold-faced man could not be "monkeyed with." Martinez gnawed his mustache and eyed the dully illuminated office window. He wondered if those four men inside had not at last found their match, perhaps their master.
Some men perhaps at this instant would have quailed for their own safety and at the prospect of hurling death among others. For death this tin cylinder meant for those below. But there was no tremor in Steele Weir's arm or heart. He was the man of metal who had won the name "Cold Steel" calm, implacable, of steel-like purpose.
"You're a friend of Archie Weir's?" said one to Frank Innes; and Innes replied, with his usual flippancy and more than his usual insight: "I know Weir, but I never met Archie." No one had met Archie, a malady most incident to only sons.
"Get out of this booth, or I'll throw you out." It was Weir's turn to act. Like a flash he caught Sorenson's elbow, jerked him forward, spun him about and dropped him upon the chair. "Sit there, you cradle-robber, until I'm through with you," he commanded. "And if you don't want everybody in this restaurant to know about your business with this girl, you'll lower your voice when you talk."
Suddenly, she was found behind the bar of Weir's Tavern at Cedar Point, the resort most frequented by Jacques. Word went about among the men that Blanche was taking a turn at religion, or, otherwise, reformation. Soldier Joe was something sceptical on this point from the fact that she had developed a very uncertain temper. This appeared especially noticeable in her treatment of Jacques.
At this juncture Mr. Pollock stepped forward. "Mr. Sorenson hasn't yet appeared, and I assure you he will be prevented from harming any one if he comes. You are Miss Janet Hosmer, I judge, of whom I've heard so much that is praiseworthy. Will you allow me to introduce myself? I'm Mr. Pollock, a company director, and to a degree in Mr. Weir's confidence."
He received their orders for beer and lifted three dripping bottles from a tub of water at his feet. His eyes passed casually over Steele Weir's face, glanced away, then came back for a swift unblinking scrutiny. The eyes his own met were as hard, stony and inscrutable as his own.
Still Janet delayed starting the car, divided in feelings between a wish to respect Steele Weir's insistent command and a growing fear for his safety. She could see nothing of him. Into the shadow of a rock he had disappeared and thither she gazed with straining eyes, hoping to see again his straight strong figure.
If you're really looking for trouble, those three hundred men will give this town trouble that will be remembered for twenty years." Standing there in the moonlight between the two parties, between the thin line of sentinels about the jail and the dense mob in front, Steele Weir's action seemed the height of rashness.
If these instincts were undeveloped in her present existence, it was because of Weir's sheltered life, and because she had met him this time before it was too late. He sprang to his feet, almost overturning the chair. "I can think no more to-night," he exclaimed. "My head feels as if it would burst." He went into his bedroom and poured out a dose of laudanum.
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