"I think you are right," she replied briefly.
Winston returned to the Rio Vista and went directly to Uncle Sid's room.
"Things are coming to a climax." He handed the message to Uncle Sid.
The old man's face had lost its humorous look. His shaggy eyebrows were lowered, only two bright sparks flashed from beneath them, steely hard.
"This mess is in a fair way o' bein' settled now, an' it ain't a minute too soon, either. 'Lige ain't goin' to stand this always."
"What had we better do first?"
"You know Seymour. Meet him at the train and get him over to the office at once. I'll be there. I think we can settle the whole business in an hour." Uncle Sid's face relaxed into a grim smile. "He'll have to come to our terms."
"The main thing, after all, is to get there, and it begins to look as if we had done it."
There was a surprise to both in their immediate vicinity. The door opened without ceremony to admit Mrs. MacGregor. She was still in traveling costume. She nodded slightly to Winston, who rose as if to leave the room. Uncle Sid checked him.
"You stay right here, Ralph."
Mrs. MacGregor addressed Uncle Sid.
"I want a few minutes alone with you, Sidney, on business."
"Me an' Ralph are about as near one as they make 'em, I guess. You just go right on an' unburden your mind."
"The business to which I refer concerns you and me alone."
"Your ward and Helen Lonsdale are included, I guess. If they ain't, you'll have to wait. If they are, you go right on. You didn't raise enough money in Fall Brook to push you out of the Palm Wells mess. You take up the business right there."
Mrs. MacGregor looked at Winston with as much of an appeal in her glance as she could compel herself to make.
Winston settled himself even more firmly in his chair in compliance with Uncle Sid's request. Mrs. MacGregor did not attempt to conceal her annoyance, but she followed her brother's suggestion and came to the point.
"Yes, I did fail to raise the money in Fall Brook that I had expected to raise without difficulty, and I fancy I know why."
Uncle Sid chuckled with evident satisfaction.
"Consequently," Mrs. MacGregor continued, ignoring her brother's interruption, "the Palm Wells company is in precisely the same position now that it was when I left for the East."
"I should say that it was considerably steadier on its legs than it was. What's your opinion, Mr. Winston?"
"I should say so." Winston did not answer aggressively, his reply was perfunctory.
Mrs. MacGregor ignored Winston.
"I don't know what you mean, Sidney."
"Me'n Ralph knows. It ain't necessary you should know."
Mrs. MacGregor's patience was sorely tried, as Uncle Sid fully intended it should be, but she gave no visible signs of annoyance for two excellent reasons. In the first place, a display of emotion smacked of vulgarity; in the second place, she felt that all of her deep-laid schemes depended upon her perfect self-control.
"We are getting nowhere, Sidney. Let us come to the point at once. Our company is temporarily embarrassed and I feel that you are partially responsible for my not raising the money that I had expected, so I am coming to ask you to help us out. Not only is the success of the company at stake but the honor of our family name as well."
She would have gone farther, but Uncle Sid blazed in. He was quite unhampered by the fear of the vulgarity of displayed emotions.
"The honor of our name!" he exploded. "What Harwood in three hundred years was ever false to a trust? What Harwood but stood still in his tracks rather than even look at a crooked path? What Harwood ever used the weakness of his neighbor for his own good?"
"Sidney!" Mrs. MacGregor's voice trembled.
"Keep still! I'm on deck now!" Uncle Sid bent before his sister and shook his knotted fingers in her face. His eyes were blazing, his face rugose with deep, hard lines.
"Do you know what you've done, Eunice? You saw 'Lige Berl stumblin' betwixt right and wrong, an' for the sake of a few dirty dollars you pushed him over! That's what you did. You knew what our old New England name was worth to a man like 'Lige, and instead o' usin' it to pull him out o' the mud, you used it to push him in deeper. You congered a dyin' woman into trustin' her daughter's fortune to your hands, an' you've betrayed the woman an' stole her daughter deaf, dumb an' blind. Now you're in trouble, you're a comin' to me to keep the honor o' the Harwood name. I wanted to keep the honor o' the Harwood name, so I called on this young man to help me an' he's done it, because the same good, red blood is soakin' his bones an' muscles as has soaked the bones an' muscles o' the Harwoods. Betwixt us, we've got the company out o' trouble, an' betwixt us, we will keep it out. We'll get you out o' trouble too, and we'll keep you out o' this! Now we're goin' to hunt up 'Lige an' get him out o' trouble too. We hope he may be worth it."
Uncle Sid straightened and dashed a handkerchief over his swollen face. Mrs. MacGregor sat pale and silent. When Winston began to speak, she turned to him with lips that trembled on the verge of speech.
"I deeply regret the necessity of all this, Mrs. MacGregor, but there is no other way except before an open court." Winston briefly but clearly set forth the status of the Palm Wells company. He assured Mrs. MacGregor that Mellin had been effectually and forever silenced, and in confirmation of his words, showed Mellin's note, from which her name and Elijah's had been torn. "Now I am going to ask you to sign these papers; this done, the last obstacle will be removed from your brother's path."
"Suppose I refuse?"
Winston's face set.
"I advise you not to."
Mrs. MacGregor held out her hand for the papers. She affixed her name where Winston indicated.
"What next?"
Uncle Sid answered.
"There's nothin' more to keep you in California. Just go, an' when you want money within reason, let me know."
Mrs. MacGregor rose and turned to the door that led to her room. Winston was before her and held the door ajar, closing it behind her; then he faced Uncle Sid. The old man approached him and laid a clumsy but affectionate hand on his shoulder.
"I ain't worth a cuss at quotin' scripture, but it strikes me that it ain't every one who's yappin' 'Lord, Lord,' as gets into heaven. Now you go below an' tomorrow we'll lay alongside o' Seymour."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Winston was at his post when the great "Overland Express" rolled into the station at Ysleta, with clanging bell and coughing air-pump and dazzled sunbeams dancing from its varnish.
Winston was an engineer and he was not impervious to a stimulating thrill at the exhibition of power and progress of which the train was a type, from the ponderous, six-wheeled locomotive, to the last car of the shining train that it dragged. This thrill did not interfere with business and he had imperative, pressing business on hand. His quick eye singled out the man for whom he was waiting and almost as quickly he was by his side.
"Good morning, Mr. Seymour."
Without any haste, Seymour's grip was in his hand, and with no conscious volition on his part, Seymour was threading his way at Winston's side through the throng of disembarking passengers, those waiting for incoming friends, curious loafers, and rattling express trucks.
"Have you had breakfast?" Winston hardly paused, as they left the station and came out upon the gravelly, palm-fringed walk.
"Yes, and a good one too. The dining service has improved. Couldn't do much better in New York."