Read Online Shadow on the Land by Wayne D. Overholser - Free Book Online Page A

morning,” one of the hands said. “Takes six months to raise a hog and five minutes for Highpockets to eat it. You ought to ride over to Bend and let Doc Coe look you over. If you ain’t got a hollow leg, I’ll miss my guess.”
    â€œNever mind, Chris,” Hanna said.
    â€œI ain’t minding him at all.” Highpockets serenely helped himself to the rest of the sausage. “A gent with a puny appetite like his ain’t much good on a ranch. Right nice of you to pension him off, Hanna.”
    Mary, the Indian girl, took the platter to the kitchen and brought it back filled. Conversation lagged, largely because Highpockets was too busy eating to talk. Lee noted the pleasantness of the big room, planned for utility with big windows for winter light and summer air, the large table so well supplied, the buffet running along the brightly papered inside wall. It was, he thought, like its slight-figured mistress, fundamental and stripped of useless refinements, yet wholesome and warm and appealing.
    The buckaroos left the table as soon as they had finished eating, and there were only the newcomers, with Hanna and Quinn, at the table. Quinn had pushed back his chair and was smoking. Watching him, Lee sensed the amusement that was in the man, the mockery. Irritation stretched Lee’s nerves as he remembered that the big Irishman had beaten him here, had beaten him to Deborah Haig. Curiosity stirred in Lee, then, as he remembered Highpockets saying Deborah had been in the automobile with Quinn in Cow Cañon.
    Regretfully Highpockets shoved back from the table. “Sure is a hard decision, Hanna, leaving all that good grub. What time’s dinner?”
    â€œYou can have it now.”
    â€œWhy, I guess I’ll just take me an appetizer.” He reached for another sausage, and popped it into his mouth as he went out.
    Hanna looked at Lee, her eyes questioning. “Quinn’s a Harriman man, so, Dawes, I suppose you belong to Hill.”
    Lee had filled his pipe, and took a moment to light it. “I work for the Oregon Trunk. I don’t belong to any man.”
    The girl shrugged. “I’ve been trying to tell Quinn this since late last night when I got home, and I’ll repeat it for your benefit. I’m selling no right of way through my place. Neither are my neighbors. That’s why I hurried home from Shaniko. I haven’t been here for several months, and, when I heard rumors that Hill and Harriman were finally moving, I knew I’d better get back and talk to my neighbors again. I did, and found that I had nothing to worry about. They haven’t changed, and neither have I. So, gentlemen, unless you want to help Mary with the dishes, the meeting’s over.”
    â€œShe does hold to that word no.” Quinn grinned wryly. “And her neighbors use it so much it gets monotonous. The Oregon Trunk won’t buy a right of way through here, my friend. So, unless you want to help with the dishes . . .”
    â€œI have two dishcloths, Mister Quinn.” Hanna looked at Lee sharply. “You are working for Jim Hill, aren’t you?”
    â€œThe Oregon Trunk.”
    Quinn snorted. “Hill isn’t fooling anybody.”
    â€œHe isn’t fooling me.” Hanna leaned across the table. “Mister Dawes, this talk about Jim Hill being an empire builder simply makes me sick . . . unless you mean Hill’s own empire! He comes with blandishments and stays to fill his pockets. Look what he did in Spokane. Look at his terminal rate scheme. You’re a railroad man, so you know that we pay more freight on goods from the East than they do on the coast. The railroads justify it by claiming they have to meet ocean rates, which the Panama Canal will make possible. Do you know anything about the finances of Hill’s Great Northern?”
    â€œWell, I . . .”
    â€œIf you did, you wouldn’t want to admit it. They’re so afraid