hat regiment?"
"Third Cavalry."
His black eyes swept across toward Neale, his fingers drumming
nervously on the leather arm of the chair.
"Exactly; then your service was in Oregon and the Philippines. Tramped
some since, I understand--broke?"
"No," shortly, not greatly enjoying his style of questioning. "I 've
got three dollars."
"A magnificent sum," chuckling. "However, the point is, you would be
glad of a job that paid well, and would n't mind if there was a bit of
excitement connected with it--hey?"
"What is your idea of paying well?"
"Expenses liberally figured," he replied slowly, "and ten thousand
dollars for a year's work, if done right."
I half rose to my feet in surprise, believing he was making sport, but
the fellow never moved or smiled.
"Sit down, man. This is no pipe dream, and I mean it. In fact, I am
willing to hand you half of the money down. That 's all right, Neale,"
he added as the other made a gesture of dissent. "I know my business,
and enough about men to judge Craig here for that amount. That we are
in earnest we have got to assure him someway, and money talks best.
See here, Craig," and he leaned forward, peering into my face, "you
look to me like the right man for what we want done; you are young,
strong, sufficiently intelligent, and a natural fighter. All right, I
'm sporting man enough to bet five thousand on your making good. If
you fail it will be worse for you, that's all. I 'm not a good man to
double-cross, see! All you have got to do to earn your money is obey
orders strictly, and keep your tongue still. Do you get that?"
I nodded, waiting to learn more.
"It may require a year, but more likely much less time. That makes no
difference--it will be ten thousand for you just the same," his voice
had grown crisp and sharp. "What do you say?"
"That the proposition looks good, only I should like to know a little
more clearly what I am expected to do."
"A bit squeamish, hey! got a troublesome conscience?"
"Not particularly--but there is a limit."
He slowly lit a fresh cigar, studying the expression of my face in the
light, as though deciding upon a course of action. Neale moved
uneasily, but made no attempt to break the silence. Finally, with a
more noticeable drawl in his voice, the man in the armchair began his
explanation.
"Very good; we 'll come down to facts. It will not take long. In the
first place my name is Vail--Justus C. Vail.
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