"Oh, very. Of course I'm only hazarding a guess, but that guess is
that my client can afford the gamble and is figuring on giving
Pennington a pain where he never knew it to ache him before. In plain
English, I believe the Colonel is in for a razooing at the hands of
somebody with a small grouch against him."
"May the Lord strengthen that somebody's arm," Bryce breathed
fervently. "If your client can afford to hold out long enough, he'll
be able to buy Pennington's Squaw Creek timber at a bargain."
"My understanding is that such is the programme."
Bryce reached for the deed, then reached for his hat. "If you'll be
good enough to wait here, Judge Moore, I'll run up to the house and
get my father to sign this deed. The Valley of the Giants is his
personal property, you know. He didn't include it in his assets when
incorporating the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company."
A quarter of an hour later he returned with the deed duly signed by
John Cardigan and witnessed by Bryce; whereupon the Judge carelessly
tossed his certified check for a hundred thousand dollars on Bryce's
desk and departed whistling "Turkey in the Straw." Bryce reached for
the telephone and called up Colonel Pennington.
"Bryce Cardigan speaking," he began, but the Colonel cut him short.
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