Bunch Grass - Part 23
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Part 23

He brought out the word with such startling emphasis, that Nathaniel nearly upset the gla.s.s of fine old cognac which he was raising to his lips.

"Yas, my soul," continued Uncle j.a.p, meditatively. "I risked everything I'd got. Man," he leant across the gaily decorated table, with its crystal, its pink shades, its pretty flowers, and compelled his host to meet his flaming eyes,--"man, I risked my wife's love and respect. And," he drew a deep breath, "by G.o.d, I was justified. I got there. If I hadn't," the fire died down in his mild blue eyes, and the thin body seemed to wither and shrink,--"if I hadn't struck it, it would hev killed her, the finest lady in the land, an' me too. It was nip an' tuck with both of us. And now," his voice warmed into life again,--"and now you offer me fifty thousand dollars."

"I am anxious to treat you right, Mr. Panel. Another gla.s.s of brandy?

No. Between ourselves the market is getting weaker every day. Fifty thousand profit, perhaps, may seem a small sum to you, but I cannot offer more. You are at perfect liberty to refuse my cheque; others, perhaps----"

Uncle j.a.p rose up grim and gaunt.

"I've ate dinner with you," he murmured, "so I'll say nothing more than 'thank you' and 'good-bye.'"

"Good-bye, Mr. Panel. At any time, if you have reason to change your mind, I shall be glad to talk business with you."

Uncle j.a.p returned to his own hotel to pa.s.s a restless night. Next day he sought a certain rich man who had a huge ranch in our county. The rich man, let us call him Dives, had eaten Uncle j.a.p's figs, and taken his advice, more than once, about cattle.

"Who's a-buyin' oil lakes?" demanded Uncle j.a.p.

"Nathaniel Leveson."

"Who else?"

Dives eyed Uncle j.a.p keenly. Rich men don't tell all they know, otherwise they would not be rich. Still, those figs and that water- melon on a broiling July afternoon had tasted uncommonly good!

"Look here, Mr. Panel, I think I can guess what has happened. Somebody has tried to squeeze you--eh?"

"That's so."

"Um! You're not the first."

"I wan't squeezed."

"Not yet, but----Mr. Panel, I should like to do you a service, and I know you to be an intelligent man. Do you see this sheet of blotting- paper?"

The blotting-paper lay immaculate upon the desk. Dives took a clean quill, dipped it into ink, and held it poised over the white pad.

Uncle j.a.p watched him with interest.

"This," continued Dives, thoughtfully, "represents you and your ranch, Mr. Panel," he made a small dot upon the blotting-paper. "This," he made a much larger dot, "represents me and all I have. Now Leveson represents--_this_."

With a violent motion, quite contrary to his usual gentle, courteous manner, Dives plunged the quill to the bottom of the ink pot, withdrew it quickly, and jerked its contents upon the blotting-paper. A huge purple blot spread and spread till the other small blots were incorporated.

"D--n him!" spluttered Uncle j.a.p.

Dives shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.

"My advice is: take what Leveson offers."

"Fifty thousand for millions?"

"Possibly. Can you touch them, if Omnipotence forbids?"

Dives stared moodily at the big purple blot; then picking up the sheet of blotting-paper he tore it to pieces with his nervous, finely-formed fingers, and dropped it into the waste-paper basket. When he looked up, he saw that Uncle j.a.p's mild blue eyes were curiously congested.

"You might see So-and-so," Dives named a banker. "I'll write a note of introduction." Then he added with a faint inflection of derision: "I fear it will be of no service to you, because few business men care to buy trouble even at a bargain."

All this Ajax and I heard from Uncle j.a.p, after he returned from San Lorenzo without selling Sunny Bushes to So-and-so. None the less, he brought back a pair of small diamond ear-rings.

"Lily's ears ain't pierced," he explained; "but she'll hev a reel splendid time lookin' at 'em, jest as I uster hev with my nightie."

"Your--_nightie_?"

Uncle j.a.p chuckled and rubbed together his bony hands, cracking the joints.

"Yas, my nightie. Never tole you boys about that, did I? Wal, about a month before Lily an' me was fixin' up to get merried, she made me a nightie. It was mos' too dressy fer a lady to wear, let alone a critter like me who'd allus slep' in his pants an' day shirt. 'Twas of fine linen, pleated, and fixed with ribands, yaller riband, I chose the colour. Lily was kinder stuck on pale blue, but I liked yaller best. Lily knew what I' do with that nightie, an' I done it. I put it away in the tissoo paper 'twas wrapped in, an' I hev it still. I've got more solid satisfaction out of lookin' at it than I ever hev out o' my bank book. An," he concluded warmly, "Lily's goin' ter feel jest that way about these yere sollytaires."

What followed immediately afterwards is county history. Uncle j.a.p decided to borrow money to develop his bonanza. The Autocrat, with tentacles stretching to the uttermost ends of the earth, may--I dare not affirm that he did--have issued instructions that such money as Jaspar Panel asked for was to be paid. Jaspar Panel asked for a good deal, and got it. He sunk more wells and capped them; he built reservoirs, he laid down pipe line. The day of triumph dawned when an English company offered to take all the oil Uncle j.a.p could supply, provided it were delivered free on board their vessels. Then came the crushing blow that the railroad would not transport Mr. Panel's petroleum. If they did--this was not the reason given by the shipping agents--the Autocrat might be _displeased_.

Meantime the banks politely requested Jaspar Panel to meet his obligations.

Hitherto, Uncle j.a.p had been a man of simple and primitive beliefs. He had held, for instance, that a beneficent Providence will uphold Right against Might; he had pinned his faith to the flag under which he fought and bled when a boy; he had told his Lily (who believed him) that American citizenship is a greater thing than a Roman's in Rome's palmiest day: a phrase taken whole from the mouth of a Fourth of July orator. Last of all, he had believed devoutly in his own strong hands and will, the partnership of mind and muscle which confronts seemingly insuperable obstacles confident that it can destroy them.

And now, hour by hour, day by day, conviction settled upon his soul that in this world one only reigned supreme: the Autocrat of Oil, whose High Priest was Nathaniel Leveson. After heart-rending months of humiliation, upon the eve of foreclosure by the banks, Uncle j.a.p wrote a forlorn letter to Nathaniel, accepting his offer of fifty thousand dollars for the lake of oil. Mr. Leveson, so a subordinate replied, _was not buying oil properties_! For the moment he was interested in other matters ... Uncle j.a.p happened to read next day that Leveson, treading in the footsteps of his Master, was about to present a splendid church to the people of San Lorenzo. Uncle j.a.p stared at the paper till it turned white, till he saw in the middle of it a huge purple blot ever-increasing in size.

That evening he cleaned his old six-shooter, which had made the climate of the county so particularly pestilential for the wizard with the hazel twig.

"Pore critter," he muttered as he wiped the barrel, "he was down to his uppers, but this feller------" Mrs. Panel, putting away the supper things, heard her husband swearing softly to himself. She hesitated a moment; then she came in, and seeing the pistol, a gasp escaped her.

"What air you doin' with that, Jaspar Panel?"

Uncle j.a.p coughed.

"There's bin a skunk around," he said. "I've kind o' smelled him for weeks past, hain't you?"

"I never knowed you to shoot a skunk with anything but a shot-gun."

"That's so. I'd disremembered. Wonder if I kin shoot as straight as I used ter?"

For answer his wife, usually so undemonstrative, bent down, took the pistol from his hand, put it back into the drawer, and, slightly blushing, kissed the old man's cheek.

"Why, Lily, what ails ye?"

His surprise at this unwonted caress brought a faint smile to her thin lips.

"Nothing."

"Ye ain't tuk a notion that yer goin' to die?"

"Nothing ails me, Jaspar," her voice was strong and steady. "I'm strong as I was twenty year ago, or nearly so. I kin begin life over agen, ef I hev to."

"Who said you hed to?" enquired her husband fiercely. "Who said you hed to?" he repeated. "Susan Jane Fullalove? I'd like ter wring her dam neck. Oh, it wan't her, eh? Wal, you take if from me that you ain't agoin' to begin life agen onless it's in a marble hall sech as you've dreamed about ever since you was shortcoated. Let me hear no more sech talk. D'ye hear?"