_ CHAPTER XI. MORTON'S ULTIMATUM
Oddly enough, Roderick Duncan and Richard Morton had never met. Although Morton, during the two weeks of his acquaintance with Patricia Langdon, had been as constantly in her company as it was possible for him to be, there had been no introduction between the two young men. They frequented the same clubs, and Morton had made the acquaintance of many of Duncan's friends; they knew each other by sight, and Duncan had heard, vaguely and without particular interest, that Morton had fallen under the spell of Patricia's stately loveliness. That was a circumstance which had suggested no misgivings whatever to him. He had long been accustomed to such conditions, for it was a rare thing that a man should be presented to Patricia without being at once attracted and charmed by her physical beauty, as well as by her brilliancy of wit.
It was, therefore, with unmasked astonishment that, upon responding to a summons at his door, still holding Patricia's letter in his hand, he found himself face to face with the young Montana cattle-king.
"Mr. Roderick Duncan, I believe?" said Morton, without advancing to cross the threshold when Duncan threw open the door.
"Yes," he replied. "Won't you come inside, Mr. Morton? I know you very well, by sight and name, and, although it has not been my privilege to meet you socially, you are quite welcome. Come inside, won't you?"
The handsome young ranchman bowed, and passed into the room. He strode across it until he was near one of the windows; then, he turned to face Duncan, who had re-closed the door, and had followed as far as the center-table where he now stood, gazing questioningly at his visitor.
"Won't you be seated, Mr. Morton?" Duncan asked.
"Thank you, no. I intend to remain only a moment, and it is possible that the question I have come to ask you may not be agreeable for you to hear, or to answer. If you will repeat your request after I have asked the question, I shall be glad to comply with it."
"I haven't the least idea what you are talking about, Mr. Morton," said Duncan, smiling, "and I can't conceive how any question you care to put to me would be offensive. However, have it your own way. Will you tell me, now, what that remarkable question is?"
Morton was standing with his feet wide-apart, and with his back to the window. His hands were thrust deep into his trousers-pockets. He looked the athlete in every line of his muscular limbs and body, and the frankness and openness of his expression at once interested Duncan.
"Mr. Duncan," he said, "in the country I come from, we do things differently from the way you do them here. I was born on a ranch in Eastern Montana, and I have lived all my life in a wild country. I began my career as a cow-puncher, when I was sixteen, and not until the last two or three years of my life have I known anything at all of that phase of existence which is expressed by the word 'society.' I indulge in this preamble in order to apologize in advance, for any breaks I may make in that mystical line of talk which you call, 'good form.'"
Duncan nodded his head smilingly, and Morton continued:
"Several years ago, I made my 'pile,' as we express it out there, and since that time it has steadily increased in size, so that, lately, I have indulged myself in an attempt to 'butt in' upon the people in 'polite society.' The question I have to ask you will amaze and astonish you, but I shall explain it, in detail, if you desire me to do so."
"Very well, Mr. Morton, what is the question?"
"Are you engaged to marry Miss Patricia Langdon?" demanded Morton, abruptly; and there was a tightening of his lips and a slight forward thrust of his aggressive chin.
Duncan received the question calmly. He thought, afterward, that he had almost anticipated it, although he could not have told why he should do so. He permitted nothing of the effect the question had upon him to appear in the expression of his face, or eyes, and he continued to gaze smilingly into the face of the young ranchman, while he replied:
"I see no objection to answering your question, Mr. Morton, although I do not in the least understand your reason for asking it. Miss Langdon and I are engaged to be married, and the wedding-day is already fixed. It is to be next Monday morning, at ten o'clock. I hope, sir, that you are quite satisfied with the reply?"
Morton did not speak for a moment, but he reached out one hand and rested it on the back of a chair, near which he was standing. Duncan, perceiving the gesture, asked again:
"Won't you be seated, Mr. Morton?"
"Thank you, yes."
He dropped his huge body upon the leather-upholstered chair beside him, and crossed one leg over the other, while Duncan retained his attitude beside the table, still with that questioning expression in his eyes.
"I suppose I ought to make some farther explanation," said Morton, presently. He spoke with careful deliberation, choosing his words as he did so and evidently striving hard to maintain complete composure of demeanor under circumstances that rendered the task somewhat difficult.
"I think one is due to me," was the reply.
"Mr. Duncan, when I hit the trail for this room, to have this talk with you, I sure thought that I had mapped out pretty clearly what I had to say to you. I find now that it's some difficult to express myself. If we were seated together in a bunk-house on a ranch in Montana, I could uncinch all that's on my mind, without any trouble. I hope you don't mind my native lingo."
"Not in the least," replied Duncan, still smiling. "I find it very expressive, and quite to the point."
"Well, it's this way: I arrived in the city about three weeks ago, and one of the first persons I met up with, who interested me was Miss Langdon. There isn't any reason that I know of why I shouldn't admit to you that she interested me more, in about three seconds of time, than anybody else has ever succeeded in doing, during the twenty-eight years I have lived. I was roped, tied, and branded, quicker than it takes me to tell you of it; and the odd part of the whole thing is that I enjoyed the experience, instead of resenting it. I think it was the second time I met up with her when I told her about it, and it is only fair to her, and to you, to admit that she said 'No,' Johnny-on-the-spot. But, somehow, it didn't strike me that it was a final 'no,' or that she had anybody's brand on her; and so I didn't lose the hope that some day I might induce her to accept mine. Last Saturday afternoon, I took her in my car, in company with two other ladies, to her father's office, down-town. She had an interview with her father and somebody else, I suspect, while she was in the office, and whatever that interview was, I am plumb certain that it didn't please her. She come out of the building with her eyes blazing like two live coals, and she was mad enough to shoot, if I am any judge."
He paused, as if expecting some comment from Duncan, but the latter made no remark at all; nor did he change his attitude or the smiling expression of his face. Truth to tell, he was more amused than offended by the other's confidences. Morton continued:
"I had half-promised Miss Langdon that I wouldn't speak to her again of love, but I sure couldn't hold in, that afternoon. I needn't tell you what I said; but the consequence of it was that she told me she had just concluded a business transaction--that was the expression she used--by which she had promised to marry a man whom she would not name. Since that time, I have studied the situation rather deeply, with the result that I came to the conclusion you were the man to whom she referred. That is why I have called upon you this evening, to ask you the question you have just answered."
"Well?" said Duncan. His smile was more constrained, now.
"I'm sure puzzled to know what Miss Langdon means by the 'business transaction' part of it, Mr. Duncan, and I have come up here, to your own room, to tell you that, if Patricia Langdon loves you--"
"One moment, if you please, Mr. Morton. Don't you think you're going rather too far, now?"
"No sir, I don't."
"Very well, I'll listen to you, to the end."
"If Patricia Langdon loves you, Duncan, I'll hit the trail for Montana and the sky-line this afternoon, and I'll ask you to pardon me for any break I have made here, this evening; but, if she doesn't love you, and if, as I suspect, you are coercing her in this matter--"
Again, Duncan interrupted the ranchman. He did it this time by straightening his tall figure, and raising one hand for silence.
"I think, Mr. Morton," he said, coldly, "that you are presuming rather too far. These are personal matters between Miss Langdon and myself, which I may not discuss with you."
Morton sprang to his feet, and faced Duncan across the table.
"By God! you've got to discuss this with me!" he said; and his jaws snapped together, while he bent forward, glaring into Duncan's eyes. "I've got to know one thing from you, Mr. Roderick Duncan; and I've got just one more thing to say to you!"
"Well, what is it?"
The question was cold and very calm. Duncan's temper was rising.
"I'll say it mighty quick and sudden. It is this: If you are forcing Patricia Langdon into this marriage against her will, I'll kill you." _