The Forbidden Way

"That stock has always been for sale," Wray went on. "Everything I have is for sale when the man comes along who can afford to buy it. It's funny, though, General Bent, that you haven't said anything to me about it."

A slight twitching of Bent's lips and the nervous movement of his fingers among the papers on the table. Was this really a joke or only the last manifestation of Wray's colossal impudence? He chose to think it the latter.

"It hasn't been necessary to say anything to you about it, sir," he said sternly. "To-day at noon two million and a half of that stock is thrown on the market at a bargain – at a very great bargain. But I'm the only man in the United States who would dare to touch it. I'm the only man in the world, except yourself, to whom it's worth a dollar. I know your resources down to the last dime. You haven't the money to take it up. I have. At noon that stock will be mine, so will you be mine – your two railroads and your smelter, at the price I choose to pay for them."

Jeff sat quietly, one of his hands toying with the top of an inkstand, which he was regarding with friendly interest.

"Are you sure, General?" he asked calmly.

General Bent clasped his twitching fingers to keep them still. "Why, sir – what do you mean?"

"That you're mistaken, that's all. That stock is for sale, but you'll still have to come to me to buy it."

"How – "

"Because I paid off those notes this morning. That stock is in my safe-deposit vault, where it's going to stay – unless" – and he smiled sarcastically – "unless you still want it."

General Bent's face paled and grew red, then purple. He struggled to his feet with difficulty. His plans didn't often miscarry, and the fact that one of the links of the chain he had tested so carefully had failed to hold completely mystified him. How – where had Jeff Wray succeeded in raising eight hundred thousand dollars when the limit of his borrowing capacity had long ago been reached? For months the wonderful secret organization of the Amalgamated had been at work prying into the affairs of Wray's companies and had figured his possible resources to the thinnest part of a hair. He had not sold the "Lone Tree" or even the smallest interest in it, and yet there he was apparently entrenched as firmly as ever. General Bent gasped in amazement. Only the interposition of Providence could have made such a thing possible. Cortland Bent had gone into the adjoining room suddenly, and Wray knew he was verifying this information over the telephone. But General Bent did not wait for him to return. To his mind this news needed no verification. It was time for him to play his last card – and his best.

"You d – d young scoundrel," he said in a hoarse whisper, his voice trembling with fury, while Wray and Berkely rose angrily and faced him. "I won't mince matters with you any longer. You thought when you stole that mine three years ago that you had covered all your tracks and made yourself safe from civil suits. Mr. Berkely planned well. We fought you in the courts and lost. I suppose you thought we had given up. We did let up, but it was only to get a firmer hold. We've got it now, and we're going to use it. You stole that mine – trespassed on our property at night and tried to murder one of our employes. You assaulted him and would have killed him if you hadn't been interrupted – "

"That's a lie!" said Jeff calmly.

"You'll have a chance to prove that. You lured Max Reimer into a gambling den and put him out of business so that he couldn't prevent my son from signing that lease."

"That's another lie! He was drunk and violent and drew a gun on me. My partner struck him down. His head hit the edge of a table."

"Nonsense, sir. We have a witness who verifies Reimer in every particular, who swears he saw from the doorway – "

"Who is your witness?"

"Fritz Weyl – I see you remember him. He – "

Wray laughed uneasily. "Yes, I remember Fritz?"

Bent came one step nearer, waving a trembling hand at Cortland, who had returned and was trying to restrain him. But the General shook him off.

"We dropped those civil suits because we thought it was wise to do so, and because we knew that in time we would be in a position to win in other ways. There are other processes of law besides the civil ones, and those are the ones we choose to take. Before you can leave Denver you'll be arrested on charges of abduction and conspiracy. I suppose you know what that means?"

Jeff grew a shade paler, his eyes blazing their resentment at the old man who stood tottering before him.

"You'd do that – you?" cried Jeff, hoarsely, struggling hard to keep himself under control. "You'd hire men to send me to the penitentiary because I've balked your plans – because I've beaten you in a fair fight against odds; —you? – you?" Wray clenched his fist and took a step forward, but Larry Berkely seized him by the arm, and Cortland Bent stepped between.

General Bent pushed his son aside.

"Go, Cort – call McCabe. We'll see – "

At this moment there was an interruption.

"Wait a moment, Cort, please," said a voice.

The door into Mr. Janney's parlor had opened suddenly, and Mrs. Cheyne had entered the room. And while the General eyed her angrily, too amazed to speak, she strode quickly forward into the group and continued quietly,

"There has been a mistake – a terrible mistake. If you'll let me explain – "

General Bent was the first to recover his senses. "Rita! Leave the room at once!" he commanded.

"No," she said firmly, "not until you hear what I have to say – "

"I can't listen now – another time," he fumed.

"No, now. I'm going to save you from doing something that you'll regret the rest of your life."

While the General questioned, Jeff had turned and seized her by the arm, his eyes pleading.

"Rita!" he muttered, "You know? … For God's sake, don't! … Not now!"

"Yes," she said firmly. "No one else will. I must."

Cornelius Bent and Cortland had watched Wray in amazement. His face had suddenly grown white and drawn.

"You have no right to tell him, Rita," he persisted. "It's my secret! – not yours! You can't! I tell you."

But she eluded him and faced the General.

"You must listen to me, Cousin Cornelius."

Curtis Janney, who had been watching Wray closely, now interposed.

"Let her speak, General. It seems to be something of more than usual importance."

"Very well," he growled, "but be brief."

"I can't tell it here," she insisted. "I must speak to you alone."

"Alone? Why?"

"It's a private matter. Will you come into the next room, there's no one there – "

She turned and was moving toward the door when Jeff's large figure blocked the way.

"You don't know what you're doing, Rita," he whispered. "You can't. I forbid it." But Berkely, who had been watching the General, took Jeff by the arm and held him by main force.

"Stand aside, sir," said General Bent, roughly brushing by. "If there's something you want concealed, it's something I want to hear." And he followed, banging the door behind him.

Jeff made a movement as though he would follow – then turned toward Cortland Bent and Janney, who had watched this extraordinary change in the demeanor of their enemy with wonder and some curiosity. Jeff stared at them wildly and took up his hat, saying in a strange voice,

"Come, Larry, I must get away from here – at once," and, opening the door, he fled madly down the corridor.