In the Shadow of the Hills by George C. Shedd (the best ebook reader for android txt) 📕

he slackened his pace while he scanned the American with an intense, slow gaze that the engineer, chancing to raise his eyes, squarely met.

The Mexicans always looked at him and fell silent when he passed since he had shown who was master at the dam. In the eyes of some was merely stupid curiosity, in some a shrinking, and in many a half-veiled hostility. That did not trouble Weir. In Mexico he had dealt with recalcitrant workmen of more lawless nature than these. He usually ignored them altogether now as they no longer were in his employ. But this man seized his attention.

It was not yet too dark to mark his face as he lounged past, slowly turning his head about as he progressed until his chin was on his shoulder, staring back. His look the while remained riveted on Weir--a steady, contemplative, evil regard. In Chihuahua the engineer had once seen a notorious local "killer" who had that same gaze.

Martinez had also glanced at the fellow.

"Who is that man? One of the discharged workmen?" Weir asked him, when moving forward they in turn had passed the Mexican.

"No, I imagine not. At any rate, he doesn't belong in San Mateo or anywhere hereabouts. I know everybody for fifty miles, for I've been active in social and political affairs. He's unknown to me. A stranger." Then a little farther along: "Here is my office, Mr. Weir. I'll have a light in an instant. Ah, now. Be so good as to have a chair and we'll expedite your business."

As Martinez filled out the acknowledgment blanks on the papers, his eyes furtively skipped over the vital portions of the documents. The latter were connected with company business. He had hoped they would be personal so that he might learn something more of this manager's affairs, possibly more of his secret antagonism for Sorenson and his friends. Any intrigue appealed to the thin, slippery lawyer's soul, but most of all some one's else intrigue into which he might profitably put a finger. However, from these papers he was to learn nothing.

He had considered all possibilities of the affair, all possible solutions of what long ago might have occurred between Joseph Weir, undoubtedly the father of the man sitting across the table from him, and the four men now conferring in Sorenson's office. This was no petty squabble, he divined. There was something going on under the surface that was big--big! And very dangerous too, for the spirit of that moment in Vorse's bar was not to be mistaken; it had been tense, electric. Utmost caution on Martinez's part would therefore be necessary.

As between the two parties, his sympathies at present inclined towards Weir. The refusal on the latter's part to reemploy the Mexican workmen on their own terms was purely a matter of policy, and the lawyer's first gusty anger had long been forgotten. But not so Sorenson's sneering words of that afternoon. They struck to the heart of his vanity, breeding an animosity that would last. Had not the banker stated that the lawyer should hold no political office whatever? After all his services? Had he not definitely shown that Martinez might never expect anything there? Well, the lawyer wasn't one tamely to yield his rights; he did not propose always to remain a scrimping, pettifogging attorney, existing on crumbs.

When with a flourish he had appended his name to the acknowledgments and affixed his seal, he sat back thoughtfully studying the engineer, who was carefully examining the paragraphs for errors. He knew his business, did Martinez; the man would find no mistakes. Then the lawyer's eyes suddenly glistened. He arose and closed the door as Weir thrust the documents into a stout linen envelope, addressed and stamped.

"I'll be pleased to see your letter goes in the mail in the morning," he said, returning to his place. "The stage leaves at eight-thirty."

"Post-office is closed now, I suppose. Very well. It will be an accommodation," the engineer responded.

Martinez leaned forward.

"If you can spare the time, I should like to have a little talk with you," said he. "Pardon me if I appear presumptuous, but as you're aware, Mr. Weir, I overheard your words to Judge Gordon in Vorse's saloon. I inferred--check me at any instant if you consider this none of my business!--that there exists some unpleasant feeling between you two gentlemen and possibly others. Judge Gordon has always handled the company's business in his private capacity of counselor. As you know, he's a silent partner in many enterprises with Sorenson, Vorse and a man named Burkhardt. They run this town and county. You should also know that they're secretly opposed to your irrigation project, whatever they profess. They've misled the people into believing it will work an injury to this district, whereas it will of course be beneficial. Unfortunately too they lead the people by the noses--but not me! I refuse to be subservient."

He paused to note the effect of his words.

"Now, Mr. Weir, these are facts you can confirm if you're not already informed of them, which I imagine you are. Because I'm independent in my opinions and actions, I stand in disfavor with these gentlemen, which may or may not be an objection in your view to what I have in mind. And this is it. I should be pleased to execute any legal work that you care to give me; it might be of advantage to your company at times to have an attorney other than Judge Gordon, who is aligned against you and will serve his own interests first. He's in a position to cause you embarrassment."

"Our eastern attorneys draw all documents."

"Of course. But I was thinking of delays more than anything else. There are a thousand ways a lawyer can push or halt matters at will, and your project will never be free of legal red tape until completed--if then! I'm not unselfish in this, I admit; the business would be valuable to me. But aside from that, I'll give you this advice anyway:--secure another lawyer in any case, one without antagonistic personal interests, if you can find another in San Mateo besides me. See, I'm frank! That may sound egotistical, but really I'm the only free man of the lawyers here. And I've paid for my liberty!" He made a sweeping gesture to indicate his shabby office. "If I had taken orders, I could have been county attorney and probably a judge. But I respect myself too much to take orders from Sorenson and his bunch. I choose this sort of thing in preference."

Steele Weir maintained a non-committal silence. Again the thin dark-skinned lawyer swiftly weighed the man before him, considered the dangers in which he might become involved if he went a step farther, recoiled, then grew bolder. Sorenson had marked him for poverty and nonentity; under the favoring shelter of the irrigation company's power he might arise from both. For at moments the acute Mexican sensed the inevitable victory of the new forces at work; this, one of the last strong-holds of old time cattle and sheep interests, would break down and yield to the plow and fence.

"Now, there's something more, though I hesitate to mention it," he went on, doubtfully. "While Sorenson and his crowd run things, it's not because the people--and that means us Mexicans chiefly--love them. We're indolent by nature; we idle rather than work; borrow when we can rather than earn--I speak of our race, but we're learning that work proves best in the long run. These men have squeezed my people, and robbed them, and kept them down. Nothing more would I wish than to see these leaders deposed. It's no secret they've built their wealth by questionable methods, but who can prove it?

"Do you know what I suspect? You have something on Sorenson's crowd. That's why they're uneasy; that's why the four are sitting over in the cattle company's office this minute with their heads together, meeting the minute Sorenson arrives home. I saw them go in. Leaving aside the question of your own affairs, I'd like to have matters changed here in this county so that every man has a fair chance. Anything that will bring that about enlists my interest. When I heard your statement to Gordon and saw his face, I knew there was something in the past that alarmed him. I recalled a name I had once run across when abstracting a title----"

It was not this ingenious twisting of the truth that caused the lawyer to become filled with sudden dismay and stop, but the savage hardening of the engineer's face.

"Go on," Weir commanded.

"Well, the name was Joseph Weir. I looked it up again to be sure, and found the property had been deeded to Sorenson and the others, who still have it. I wondered----"

"What did you wonder?" came with a devouring look.

"If--if Joseph Weir received consideration according to law." Martinez' courage flowed back again. "I'll make no attempt to justify my curiosity, sir, except to say that more than one man in the southwest was done out of property in early days; and the practice has not ceased, for that matter. But in these days the means is usually legal and Mexicans the victims. Sharp mortgage dealings and so forth. Now, if I've said too much, I'll instantly forget all about it. On the other hand----"

"Well?"

"I might be of assistance. If you wish to look into that old transaction, that is. If there was anything crooked about the deal, and I set it down that there was with Sorenson mixed in, and with Vorse and Burkhardt the witnesses named in the deed and Judge Gordon taking the acknowledgment of Joseph Weir's signature, as the record shows, then there should be some weak spot that could be attacked. There may be men yet alive conversant with the circumstances; they may know whether duress or fraud was exercised, supposing the sale was not honest. Some of the old Mexicans may remember Weir, and could give a clue; they have good memories for things of those days. Of course, if the transaction was all right, then I'm all wrong in my suppositions."

Weir arose.

"I can give you some of the company business, perhaps considerable of it," he said.

Martinez sprang up, an expression of gratitude upon his face. He had not realized all that he had hoped for, but he was nevertheless delighted.

"I'm really sincere when I give you a thousand thanks, Mr. Weir," said he, spreading his arms wide. "I'll not make promises as to the efficiency of my services; let results speak for themselves."

"I always do," was the comment. "But I'll tell you what I demand in any one associated with me--absolute trustworthiness first of all, then loyalty and ability."

"Which leaves nothing," Martinez smiled.

He preceded the engineer and swung the door open, stepping aside. To the visitor's question regarding fees for the acknowledgments taken, he waved a declining hand.

"Nothing, nothing. Delighted to render you the service."

"Very well."

"I'll attend to the letter," the lawyer again assured him.

"Come out to the dam in a day or two."

"To-morrow, if you wish."

"To-morrow afternoon will do."

Steele Weir's frame filled the lighted doorway as he stepped forth from the office. He paused to accustom his eyes to the darkness, for during his colloquy with the attorney full night had descended. On the same side of the street with himself and perhaps twelve or fifteen paces off he saw a girl's figure appear and disappear before a window as she moved along.