ned a
second sum.
Sprowl drew a check-book from the breast-pocket of his coat, and filled
in two checks with a fountain pen. These he held up before Munn's
snapping, yellowish eyes.
"This blackmail," said Sprowl, thickly, "is paid now for the last time.
If you come after me again you come to your death, for I'll smash your
skull in with one blow, and take my chances to prove insanity. And I've
enough money to prove it."
Munn waited.
"I'll buy you this last time," continued Sprowl, recovering his
self-command. "Now, you tell me where O'Hara's child is, and how you are
going to prevent her from ever pressing that suit which he dropped."
"O'Hara's daughter is here. I control her," said Munn, quietly.
"You mean she's one of your infernal flock?" demanded Sprowl.
"One of the Shining Band," said Munn, with a trace of a whine in his
voice.
"Where are the papers in that proceeding, then? You said O'Hara burned
them, you liar!"
"She has them in a box in her bedroom," replied Munn.
"Does she know what they mean?" asked Sprowl, aghast.
"No--but I do," replied Munn, with his ominous smile.
"How do you know she does not understand their meaning?"
"Because," replied Munn, laughing, "she can't read."
Sprowl did not believe him, but he was at his mercy. He stood with his
heavy head hanging, pondering a moment, then whistled his sorrel. The
mare came to him and laid her dusty nose on his shoulder.
"You see these checks?" he said.
Munn assented.
"You get them when you put those papers in my hands. Understand? And
when you bring me the deed of this cursed property here--house and all."
"A week from to-day," said Munn; his voice shook in spite of him. Few
men can face sudden wealth with a yawn.
"And after that--" began Sprowl, and glared at Munn with such a fury
that the Prophet hastily stepped backward and raised a nervous hand to
his beard.
"It's a square deal," he said; and Sprowl knew that he meant it, at
least for the present.
The president mounted heavily, and sought his bridle and stirrups.
"I'll meet you here in a week from to-day, hour for hour; I'll give you
twenty-four hours after that to pack up and move, bag and baggage."
"Done," said Munn.
"Then get out of my way, you filthy beast!" growled Sprowl, swinging his
horse and driving the spurs in.
Munn fell back with a cry; the horse plunged past, brushing him, tearing
out across the pasture, over the bridge, and far down t
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