Ralph smiled grimly.
"There's not much profit in talking about this. But – well, you know 'Lige all right."
"Wait a minute, I ain't through." Uncle Sid's eyes were fixed on Ralph like a steel needle pointing to a magnet. "Money's the root of evil, but there's a power of good in the roots if they're used right. I've got quite a bunch of the roots handy. You're goin' to need them, an' young man, they're at your call when you say so, an' if I ain't mistaken, it won't be long either."
"Thank you." Ralph answered briefly. "I'll remember."
The Captain did not drop his eyes, but they softened.
"You've known Helen Lonsdale for a long time, haven't you?"
"Ever since she was a little girl."
"An' you're a friend of hers?"
"Yes." Ralph did not say how much more than a friend she was coming to be to him.
Uncle Sid felt the repellent air of Ralph's changed mood more than his rather curt reply, but he held doggedly to his point.
"Smallpox is a mighty mean disease an' you don't always know that you're a catchin' it till it breaks out."
Ralph rose to his feet. Uncle Sid was breaking ground that he had thought about, but which he had not yet brought himself to touch.
"Helen has always been able to take care of herself and I don't think she will allow any one to suggest that she can't do it now."
Uncle Sid was on his feet too, his hand on Ralph's shoulder.
"Helen's a woman, Ralph. I don't know much about women, but I do know that a man like 'Lige Berl and a woman like Helen Lonsdale is a mighty dangerous mixture, an' the woman's bound to get the worst of it. Helen's goin' to need friends who'll stand by her, an' I guess when you think it over, you'll agree with me."
Ralph made no reply, but he did as the Captain had said he would do. He thought it over and the seed did not fall on stony or barren ground.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The coming of Mrs. MacGregor was a turning point in Elijah's life. In the New England community where he had been born and reared, the family of Eunice MacGregor had stood first, and now in California, circumstances had already paved the way for the hold which she was to have upon him. Much as he had despised the boomers and their methods, as exemplified in the handling of Ysleta lots, when he came to dwell among the manipulators, familiarity with the men had modified and finally all but eliminated this feeling. In Ysleta, Elijah's scheme, for so it was regarded, was looked upon as a fairly shrewd move in the speculative field. When the Las Cruces Company was formed and work on the great Sangre de Cristo dam and canal was actually begun, they saw Elijah only as they saw themselves, a schemer after unearned money. In the end, Elijah came to be regarded as a smooth, shrewd man who possessed qualities worthy of a better cause.
The duties which had compelled Elijah to make his headquarters in Ysleta, had also compelled a more intimate association with the men of the town. He was consulted as to their plans and indirectly encouraged in his own. He never for a moment dreamed that his surroundings were insidiously dangerous, or that his associates were infected with a moral dry rot, more to be feared than a running sore. These men were engaged in buying and selling. They bought with the expectation of selling for more than they gave. Ysleta was growing. He who bought today could sell tomorrow at a big advance, or the day after at a still greater. To be sure there were chances of failure, but nothing was certain. Were there not thousands and thousands of persons who preferred to take chances with the possibility of sudden and great profit? To put it at its worst, if fools had money which they were bound to get rid of, might not Ysleta furnish the opportunity as well as the next place? This was the dry rot which was infecting Elijah.
Day by day, almost hour by hour the possibilities of his scheme grew upon him. There were thousands upon thousands of acres of land, still barren and worthless, that needed only water to make them fertile as the gardens of the gods. There were other streams fed by the melting snows of the San Bernardinos, that rushed and roared among the mountains; only to be swallowed up by the dry sands of the desert in summer, or to tear a desolate and desolating path in the early spring. The idea of impounding the floods in the mountain recesses was his own; if not strictly his own, then his own by right of first demonstration. These lands were valueless as they were. If he could only gain them, bring water to them, plant them with fruit trees, what might they not bring him? Honor above the highest, wealth beyond the greatest, would be his. He had made a beginning. The great Sangre de Cristo dam was almost a fact; only a few more cubic yards of stone and mortar, then the gates would be closed and the reservoir begin to fill. Even now ditches were being cut to lead water to his fields, thousands of trees were on his ranch ready to be transplanted.
He had made a beginning, but what a paltry one in the face of possibilities. There was the Pico ranch. Even that was not paid for. When paid for, how was it to be developed? The company had the water; he had the land. The land was worthless without the water. They could wait; he couldn't. He was president of the company; but he was powerless. He raged at the idea. A thought occurred to him and it grew in strength. The company owed its existence to him; in some way it should make acknowledgment. He needed money. He thought of the fifty thousand dollars in his private box in the company's vault. He had intended to deposit it in San Francisco, but one thing after another had prevented. Was it providential? The Pacific bank had failed. In their statements fifty thousand dollars was unaccounted for. The company's pass-book was again in the office; but it did not show a balance within fifty thousand dollars. Mellin and himself were the only ones who knew why. The company owed more to him than he would ever receive, beside, he himself was a heavy stockholder, and he had a perfect right to do what he would with his own. Still, his way was not clear. Fifty thousand dollars was not enough. Without more, what he had was useless. He would wait. If he failed to raise the money, this would be a sign to him that his course was not approved.
Since his first meeting with Mrs. MacGregor and Uncle Sid, Elijah had sought out Mrs. MacGregor and she had artfully made this easy for him. In these interviews, she had skilfully drawn from him the story of his life in California, his present condition and his future hopes. She was daily convinced of her wisdom in seeking out Elijah. There yet remained the pleasing task of benefiting herself by her wisdom.
Mrs. MacGregor was an intellectual woman. She had not been born that way; she had deliberately achieved it. Nature had denied her personal charms. Her forehead was high and broad, and no amount of coaxing was sufficient to induce her straight, black hair to drape itself in a graceful suggestion of a Psychic brow. Being denied Psyche, she boldly assumed Minerva and bent her energies toward living the part.
In her youth, women's colleges were not, and even if they had been, the straitened circumstances of the rural lawyer whose misfortune it was to be her father, would have denied her the privileges they offered. Having exhausted the fount of wisdom whose waters were curbed by the local female seminary, she turned on her father with the filial affection of youthful arachnids, who upon being hatched into life, suck their parent dry and then leave the useless skeleton and strike out into their individual careers. Under his tuition, she learned to translate Virgil, to construe Homer and to solve equations in a way that filled his harrowed soul with pride. She mastered the seductive syllogisms of Plato and Socrates, descended on Kant and gaining confidence, began on her own account to rattle the dry bones of scholastic philosophy till their rhythmic clatter suggested the wisdom that close attention denied.
Eunice mated with another aspiring soul. This other was a brilliant alumnus from one of the leading New England universities. He was poetic and soulful; but at the same time erratic and uncertain. These latter attributes were even more pronounced after the marriage than before. Eunice had deliberately cut him out from the bunch, to use the vaquero's expression, and, to continue the figure, had adroitly roped him. The roping in had resulted very shortly in mutual disenthralment. The result was frequent and prolonged separations, on which occasion, each went his own way. Eunice, on her part, enjoyed a satisfaction which was ever present. She used the "Mrs." as a kind of letter of marque which enabled her to make piratical descents upon society in general in a manner which would not be tolerated in the more attractive but often compromising "Miss."
She sought the acquaintance of professors, judges and governors in her own country, and gilded titles in foreign lands.
It was in one of her earlier cruises in foreign waters that Mrs. MacGregor had captured her most valuable prize. In a secluded Swiss port, she had run across a wealthy widow whose husband had come thither in search of health and had unfortunately lost his life in a mountain climbing accident. Mrs. Telford was overawed by the irresistible armament of the designing Eunice and had surrendered unconditionally. Her health was feeble and on her deathbed she had entrusted her orphaned daughter as well as her daughter's fortune to the guardianship of Eunice MacGregor. This proved a most acceptable trust to Eunice. In the first place, it made her financially independent of her husband, and in the second place, it gave her the opportunity to exercise the talent in the proper rearing and training of a child, which the Lord in his infinite wisdom has denied to mothers and has bestowed in such unstinted measure upon those to whom motherhood has been denied.
Her ward developed ideas with the years that came to her. She saw clearly the more glaring defects of Mrs. MacGregor's character, but never suspecting dishonesty, she left to her guardian the stewardship of her large fortune. She regarded it as an easy way of discharging a debt and enabling Mrs. MacGregor to receive as a stipend what she might hesitate to accept as a gift.
On her part, Mrs. MacGregor had taken full measure of her maturing ward. She knew that sooner or later, marriage was a certainty and that with marriage her stewardship would cease. She was, therefore, casting about her to make the most of her tenure of office. She had heard of Elijah's success in California and her heart was profoundly moved. She quickly became convinced that California was the opportunity for which she had so long and anxiously waited, and to California she accordingly betook herself accompanied, somewhat to her surprise, by Uncle Sid. Mrs. MacGregor was not wholly pleased with the idea of being accompanied by her nautical brother; but then – who of us is unhampered by undesirable relatives?
Mrs. MacGregor's veiled advances to Elijah were rapidly having the effect which her designing mind had forecast; more and more he was coming to lean upon her; more and more he was coming to be guided by her.
Perhaps he was not conscious that an engagement to meet and talk over business matters with Mrs. MacGregor, was shaping his meditations with regard to the fifty thousand dollars concealed in his private box. Perhaps he was not conscious that he was proposing to do what he knew to be wrong and then, if things went against him, to say, as did our common ancestor, "The woman tempted me."
As he drove up to the Rio Vista on the day of his engagement with Mrs. MacGregor, Elijah was placid under his old refuge. In the progress of his day he would be guided. Unfortunately for Elijah, in the progress of her day, Mrs. MacGregor would guide. She was a human pirate, pure and simple. In her piratical cruises, she flew any pennon which policy dictated, while Elijah took refuge under letters of marque.
Mrs. MacGregor shrugged her shoulders gently as she took her place beside Elijah and threw a suggestive backward glance at the Rio Vista.
"I think it is wonderful that you have passed through such fires with no smell of smoke on your garments."
"If you could see what I have seen, it would not seem so wonderful."
"But I have seen, and it only increases my wonder. You might have accumulated safely in weeks what will take you years in the line you have chosen."
Elijah laughed. It was a gratified laugh.
"It isn't what I am after. These boomers are trying to give nothing the appearance of something. They began to build on nothing; I am laying a foundation. I may build the super-structure or I may not, that is for the Lord to say; but on my foundation the future of this part of California must be built."
"And where no blade of grass grew, you have made a paradise! Your modesty may call it accident, but I call it a design which has been given into hands willing and able to execute it."
Elijah looked thoughtful. Mrs. MacGregor's words were grateful to him, but they were wide of his purpose just now. He made up his mind to a bold plunge.
"It may be a design, but others now see not only the design, but its possibilities as well." Elijah hesitated for a moment, then resumed slowly. "It may be that I have blazed the way; it seems to me that I have. But here is my problem. Shall I rest content with having blazed the way, or shall I struggle with others for the rewards?"
Mrs. MacGregor did not hesitate.
"I have often thought of the parable of the talents. I have thought of another bit of scripture that is not a parable. 'To him that hath shall be given, and from him that hath not shall be taken even that which he hath.'"
"You think then, that I have no right to rest on what I have done, or rather, that I ought to finish what I have undertaken?"
"Most assuredly."
Elijah felt solid ground beneath his feet. There was more than a touch of pride in his voice.
"Do you know that my every word is snapped up; my every action watched by those sharks?" he indicated Ysleta with his whip. "If I should point my whip to those hills to which I am pointing now, they would snap them up and organize an orange growing company." Elijah paused and turned his eyes to Mrs. MacGregor. She knew what he would say, but she preferred to let him speak.
"Well?"
"They would do by this as they have done by Ysleta."
Mrs. MacGregor laughed.
"Why don't you take them then?"
"Is it my duty? That is the question that is troubling me. I haven't the money to buy them even at their present rates. If I had, my way would be open."
"Why not have faith that the way will open in the future as it has in the past?"
Elijah drew himself together.
"I am going to tell you the whole thing, then you can judge me as you will." He told of the fifty thousand dollars, his disposition of it, the fact that the pass-book of the company showed a balance unpaid of fifty thousand dollars, his provisional deal with Pico. He hesitated as he closed the recital, then after a moment he concluded. "This deal with Pico must be decided at once. Has the way opened?"
Mrs. MacGregor had grasped every point. When Elijah ceased speaking her answer was ready.
"There are emergencies in life so fraught with grave possibilities that every law of man, I might almost say of God, must be thrust aside. Every one who does great things, must at times do doubtful ones. That is, they are doubtful to eyes unable to penetrate the future."
Elijah waited to make sure that Mrs. MacGregor had finished. She had purposely avoided a direct answer. This did not suit him. His eyes shone hard as steel through his half-closed lids.
"Am I justified in using that fifty thousand?"
Mrs. MacGregor's lips set.
"In my opinion you are."
Elijah's question had not surprised her; but she inwardly resented it. Her plan had been to deal out generalities, leaving her own skirts free. She realized that he had gained all that he wanted from her and had given her nothing.
"There is another matter that has troubled me for a long time, Mrs. MacGregor. I have tried to shut my eyes to it, but I cannot. I can see great things to be done and I can help others to see, but there are times when I need help; when I long for human sympathy, intelligent sympathy that can see what I see, that can have faith in my work, – " he paused.
Mrs. MacGregor was watching him narrowly, every sense alert.
"The intelligent sympathy which a wife may give, but which Amy cannot?" It was a daring forecast. Mrs. MacGregor held her breath in spite of herself.
Elijah's face grew drawn and white. This was the first time that, either to himself or to another, he had stated the case baldly. Hitherto, even to himself, he had decently veiled his unholy thoughts. The appealing eyes of his wife were upon him, now that he was striving to turn his own away from them. He had not imagined that it would be so hard. Even the eyes of Helen Lonsdale could not comfort him. The thought of what he was clearing from the way, in order to look into them, appalled him.
Mrs. MacGregor prepared to sell the last remnant of her soul to the devil. Upon Helen Lonsdale she had no hold. She had noted the girl's interest in Elijah, an interest of which the girl herself was unconscious. If now, she cleared Helen's path of obstructions, would not she win her gratitude? Slowly and deliberately, she spoke.
"You never loved Amy Eltharp. The woman whom you could love, who could return a love as deep and lasting as your own is separated from you. You are paying the penalty of your mistake. Amy is paying for it, even" – she paused, then went on without a quaver, – "even as Helen Lonsdale is paying for it."
Elijah was as one stricken. For a long time he remained silent. Mrs. MacGregor watched him narrowly. He was striving to do justice to himself and to his better nature, but the habit of years was strong upon him. He had strayed into a tempting path without definite thought as to where it would lead either himself or others. He had compared Helen Lonsdale with his wife; his life that might have been with Helen, with his life that was with Amy. Mrs. MacGregor's words had defined his position clearly and sharply. In innocence, he could go no farther. From now on, he must act decisively and with full knowledge of what his actions meant. At last he spoke, as one broken on a wheel.
"Don't torture me any longer. Tell me what you mean."
"I want to save you from yourself. You have made a mistake. You have had a loveless life. You married weakness where you needed strength. You married selfishness, where you needed unselfishness, devoted sympathy. You have fled to a common refuge; you have sought in a mistress all that you have lacked in a wife."
Elijah burst out furiously.
"Helen Lonsdale is not that! She is as pure as sunlight."
"You cannot make her your wife; she knows that as well as you do. You are walking in a path the end of which is certain."
Elijah made no immediate reply. His reason told him the end of Mrs. MacGregor's logic, but he weakly demanded that she should point the way.
"There is then only one thing to do?"
"On the contrary," – Mrs. MacGregor spoke sharply, for she was losing patience, – "there are three courses open to you. You can go on as you are going and the end is ruin. Ruin to Helen, ruin to Amy, ruin to your work, ruin to yourself. You can break off your relations with Helen Lonsdale and go back to your old life; your life as it was before Helen entered it. Or – " She paused, as one who could go farther, but would not.
"What?" Elijah breathed the word rather than spoke it.
Mrs. MacGregor answered as one wearied with a hopeless burden.
"The laws of the world recognize the fact that the purest impulses of man are often mistaken. They recognize this fact and have provided a way of separation."
Elijah made no reply. They drove on in silence toward his ranch where Mrs. MacGregor was to spend a few days. His thought wandered from his surroundings back to the clear sunlight, the bracing air of his old New England home. There was peace there; the peace of simple lives untouched by the fierce passions of the throbbing world. He saw Amy Eltharp, flaxen-haired, blue-eyed, walking through the cool woods, her hand in his own, her eyes down-cast, her cheeks delicately flushed, as her trembling lips breathed "yes" in answer to his passionate words.
Now it was all gone. He was in a desert land, burned with conflicting emotions as fierce as the sun that beat upon the sands around him.
When they reached the ranch, Amy was standing in the rose-trellised drive-way to welcome them. Fair as the roses that surrounded her, she stood with anxious eyes raised to Elijah. Her purpose to make herself useful to Elijah, was yet strong within her. Perhaps this fact tempered for her the chill of Elijah's absent-minded response to her greeting. She was feeding her heart on hope. "A little study, a little practice and the thing is done."