The Valley of the Giants

by Peter B. Kyne

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  Shortly after Shirley's departure from his office, Bryce had a visitfrom Buck Ogilvy. The latter wore a neatly pressed suit of Shepherdplaid, with a white carnation in his lapel, and he was, apparently, themost light-hearted young man in Humboldt County. He struck an attitudeand demanded:

  "Boss, what do you think of my new suit?"

  "You lunatic! Don't you know red blonds should never wear light shades?You're dressed like a Negro minstrel."

  "Well, I feel as happy as an end-man. And by the way, you're all chirkedup yourself. Who's been helping you to the elixir of life. Whenwe parted last night, you were forty fathoms deep in the slough ofdespond."

  "No less a divinity than Miss Shirley Sumner! She called this morningto explain that last night's fiasco was none of her making, and quiteinnocently she imparted the information that old Pennington lighted outfor San Francisco at one o'clock this morning. Wherefore I laugh. Te-he!Ha-hah!"

  "Three long, loud raucous cheers for Uncle. He's gone to rush arestraining order through the United States District Court. Wonder whyhe didn't wire his attorneys to attend to the matter for him."

  "He has the crossing blocked, and inasmuch as the Mayor feeds out ofPennington's hand, the Colonel is quite confident that said crossingwill remain blocked, As for the restraining order--well, if one wants athing well done, one should do it oneself."

  "All that doesn't explain your cheerful attitude, though."

  "Oh, but it does. I've told you about old Duncan McTavish, Moira'sfather, haven't I?" Ogilvy nodded, and Bryce continued: "When I firedthe old scoundrel for boozing, it almost broke his heart; he had toleave Humboldt, where everybody knew him, so he wandered down intoMendocino County and got a job sticking lumber in the drying-yard ofthe Willits Lumber Company. He's been there two months now, and I aminformed by his employer that old Mac hasn't taken a drink in all thattime. And what's more, he isn't going to take one again."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I make it my business to find out. Mac was the finestwoods-boss this county ever knew; hence you do not assume that I wouldlose the old scoundrel without making a fight for him, do you? Why,Buck, he's been on the Cardigan pay-roll thirty years, and I only firedhim in order to reform him. Well, last week I sent one of Mac's oldfriends down to Willits purposely to call on him and invite him out'for a time'; but Mac wouldn't drink with him. No, sir, he couldn't betempted. On the contrary, he told the tempter that I had promised togive him back his job if he remained on the water wagon for one year; hewas resolved to win back his job and his self-respect."

  "I know what your plan is," Ogilvy interrupted. "You're going to askDuncan McTavish to waylay Pennington on the road at some point where itruns through the timber, kidnap him, and hold him until we have had timeto clear the crossing and cut Pennington's tracks.

  "We will do nothing of the sort," Buck continued seriously. "Listen,now, to Father's words of wisdom. This railroad-game is an old oneto me; I've fought at crossings before now, and whether successful ordefeated, I have always learned something in battle. Didn't you hear metell that girl and her villainous avuncular relative last night that Ihad another ace up my kimono?"

  Bryce nodded.

  "That was not brag, old dear. I had the ace, and this morning Iplayed it--wherefore in my heart there is that peace that passethunderstanding--particularly since I have just had a telegram informingme that my ace took the odd trick."

  He opened a drawer in Bryce's desk and reached for the cigars he knewwere there.

  "Not at all a bad cigar for ten cents. However--you will recall thatfrom the very instant we decided to cut in that jump-crossing, wecommenced to plan against interference by Pennington; in consequence wekept, or tried to keep, our decision a secret. However, there existed atall times the possibility that Pennington might discover our benevolentintentions and block us with his only weapon--a restraining order issuedby the judge of the United States District Court.

  "Now, one of the most delightful things I know about a court is that itis open to all men seeking justice--or injustice disguised as justice.Also there is a wise old saw to the effect that battles are won by thefellow who gets there first with the most men. The situation from thestart was absurdly simple. If Pennington got to the District Courtfirst, we were lost!"

  "You mean you got there first?" exclaimed Bryce.

  "I did--by the very simple method of preparing to get there first incase anything slipped. Something did slip--last night! However, I wasready; so all I had to do was press the button, for as Omar Khayyamremarked: 'What shall it avail a man if he buyeth a padlock for hisstable after his favourite stallion hath been lifted?' Several daysago, my boy, I wrote a long letter to our attorney in San Franciscoexplaining every detail of our predicament; the instant I received thattemporary franchise from the city council, I mailed a certified copyof it to our attorney also. Then, in anticipation of our discoveryby Pennington, I instructed the attorney to prepare the complaint andpetition for a restraining order against Seth Pennington et al. andstand by to rush the judge with it the instant he heard from me!

  "Well, about the time old Pennington started for San Francisco thismorning, I had our attorney out of bed and on the long-distancetelephone; at nine o'clock this morning he appeared in the United StatesDistrict Court; at nine-fifteen the judge signed a restraining orderforbidding our enemies to interfere with us in the exercise of a rightlegally granted us by the city of Sequoia, and at nine-thirty a deputyUnited States marshal started in an automobile for Sequoia, via theoverland route. He will arrive late to-morrow night, and on Sunday wewill get that locomotive out of our way and install our crossing."

  "And Pennington--"

  "Ah, the poor Pennington! Mon pauvre Seth!" Buck sighed comically. "Hewill be just twenty-four hours late."

  "You old he-fox!" Bryce murmured. "You wicked, wicked man!"

  Buck Ogilvy lifted his lapel and sniffed luxuriously at his whitecarnation, the while a thin little smile played around the corners ofhis humorous mouth. "Ah," he murmured presently, "life's pretty sweet,isn't it!"