.. Thank you,
Poundstone, thank you. Good-bye."
He stood at the telephone, the receiver still held to his ear and his
right forefinger holding down the hook while the line cleared. When
he spoke again, Shirley knew he was calling his mill-office. He got a
response immediately, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour.
"Sexton? Pennington speaking. I've sent over the Black Minorca with a
rifle and sixty rounds of ammunition... What? You can hear him
shooting already? Bully boy with a crockery eye! He'll clean that
gang out and keep them from working until the police arrive. You've
telephoned Rondeau, have you?... Good! He'll have his men waiting at
the log-landing, and there'll be no delay. As soon as you've seen the
switch-engine started for the woods, meet me down at Water and B
streets. Sexton, we've got to block them. It means a loss of millions
to me if we fail!"
Shirley was standing in the doorway as he faced about from the
telephone. "Uncle Seth," she said quietly, "use any honourable method
of defeating Bryce Cardigan, but call off the Black Minorca. I shall
hold you personally responsible for Bryce Cardigan's life, and if you
fail me, I shall never forgive you."
"Silly, silly girl!" he soothed her. "Don't you know I would not
stoop to bush-whacking? There's some shooting going on, but its wild
shooting, just to frighten Cardigan and his men off the job.
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