"I ought to have thought of that, Westcott," he admitted. "Still, I
don't know that I give a damn."
"The work hadn't been left in very good shape, and I found the cross
tunnel and measured it. You are within a few feet of my vein. The
county surveyor ought to have been out there two hours ago."
Lacy straightened up, all semblance of indifference gone, an oath on
his lips.
"You cur! You filed complaint? When?"
"At seven o'clock this morning. We'll fight that out in the courts.
However, that isn't what I came here for at all. I came to ask you a
question and one of you two are going to answer before I leave--keep
your hand up, and in sight, Lacy; make another move like that and it's
liable to be your last. I am not here in any playful mood, and I know
your style. Lay that gun on the desk where I can see it--that's right.
Now move your chair back."
Lacy did this with no good grace, his face purple with passion.
Westcott had been too quick, too thoroughly prepared for him, but he
would watch his opportunity. He could afford to wait, knowing the
cards he had up his sleeve.
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