Read The Pride of Palomar Page 29


  CHAPTER XXVIII

  Kay's first coherent thought was to claim the privilege of her sex--aheadache--and refrain from joining Don Mike and her parents at dinner.Upon consideration, however, she decided that since she would have toface the issue sooner or later, she might as well be brave and not tryto evade it. For she knew now the fate of the promissory note BillConway had given her and which she had thrust into the pocket of herriding coat. It had worked out of her pocket and dropped beside thetrail to Agua Caliente Basin, and fate had ordained that it should befound by the one person in the world not entitled to that privilege.Kay would have given fifty thousand dollars for some miraculous philterwhich, administered surreptitiously to Miguel Farrel, would cause himto forget what the girl now realized he knew of her secret negotiationswith Bill Conway for the salvation of the ranch. Nevertheless, despiteher overwhelming embarrassment and distress, the question occurred toher again and again: What would Don Miguel Farrel do about it? Shehadn't the slightest doubt but that his tremendous pride would lead himto reject her aid and comfort, but how was he to accomplish thisdelicate procedure? The situation was fraught with as much awkwardnessand embarrassment for him as for her.

  She was late in joining the others at table. To her great relief,after rising politely at her entrance and favoring her with animpersonal smile, Farrel sat down and continued to discuss with JohnParker and his wife the great natural resources of Siberia and thedesigns of the Japanese empire upon that territory. About the time theblack coffee made its appearance, Kay's harassed soul had foundsanctuary in the discussion of a topic which she knew would be ofinterest--one in which she felt she could join exuberantly.

  "Do tell father and mother of your plans for a _fiesta_, Miguel," shepleaded presently.

  "A _fiesta_, eh?" Mrs. Parker was instantly interested. "Miguel, thatis, indeed, a bright thought. I volunteer as a patroness here and now.John, you can be a judge of the course, or something. Miguel, what isthe occasion of your _fiesta_?"

  "At a period in the world's history, Mrs. Parker, when butter is adollar a pound and blue-denim over-alls sell freely for three dollars apair, I think we ought to do something to dissipate the general gloom.I want to celebrate my return to civil life, and my more recent returnfrom the grave. Also, I would just as lief indicate to the county atlarge that, outside of business hours, we constitute a very happylittle family here; so if you all please, I shall announce a _fiesta_in honor of the Parker family."

  "It will last all day and night and we are to have a Wild West show,"Kay added eagerly.

  "Where will it be held, Miguel?"

  "Down at our old abandoned race-track, about a mile from here."

  Mrs. Parker nodded approval. "John, you old dud," she decided, "youalways liked horse-races and athletics. You're stuck for some prizes."

  Her indulgent husband good-naturedly agreed, and at Kay's suggestion,Carolina brought a pencil and a large writing-tablet, whereupon thegirl constituted herself secretary of the carnival committee and wrotethe program, as arranged by Don Mike and her father. She thrilled whenFarrel announced a race of six furlongs for ladies' saddle-horses, tobe ridden by their owners.

  "You ought to win that with Panchito," he suggested to Kay.

  Kay's heart beat happily. In Farrel's suggestion that she ridePanchito in this race she decided that here was evidence that her hostdid not contemplate any action that would tend to render the ranchuntenable for her prior to the _fiesta_; indeed, there was nothing inhis speech or bearing that indicated the slightest mental perturbationnow that he had discovered the compact existing between her and BillConway. Perhaps his pride was not so high as she had rated it; what ifher action had been secretly pleasing to him?

  Somehow, Kay found this latter thought disturbing and distasteful. Itwas long past midnight before she could dismiss the enigma from herthoughts and fall asleep.

  It was later than that, however, before Don Miguel Jose FedericoNoriaga Farrel dismissed her from his thoughts and succumbed to thearms of Morpheus. For quite a while after retiring to his room he saton the edge of the bed, rubbing his toes with one hand and holding BillConway's promissory note before him with the other.

  "That girl and her mother are my secret allies," he soliloquized."Bless their dear kind hearts. Kay has confided in Conway and forreasons best known to himself he has secretly accepted of her aid. NowI wonder," he continued, "what the devil actuates her to double-crossher own father in favor of a stranger?"

  He tucked the note back in his pocket, removed a sock and rubbed theother foot thoughtfully. "Well, whatever happens," he decidedeventually, "I've got to keep my secret to myself, while at the sametime effectually preventing this young lady from advancing Bill Conwayany further funds for my relief. I cannot afford her pity or hercharity; I can accept her sympathy, but not her aid. Conway cannothave so soon spent much of the money he borrowed from her, and if Iinsist on the cessation of operations in the Basin he'll promptly giveher back her fifty thousand dollars in order to save the interestcharges; in the meantime I shall mail Kay the note in a plain whiteenvelope, with the address typewritten, so she will never know where itcame from, for of course she'll have to hand Bill back his cancelednote when he pays it."

  He blew out the light and retired, not to sleep, but to revolve planafter plan for the salvation of the ranch. To float a new loan fromany source in San Marcos County he dismissed for the hundredth time asa proposition too nebulous for consideration. His only hope of a bankloan lay in an attempt to interest outside bankers to a point wherethey would consent to have the property appraised. Perhaps the letterfrom Parker which he held would constitute evidence to cautiouscapitalists of the sufficiency of the security for the loan. It wasfor that purpose that he had cunningly inveigled Parker into making himthat offer to clear out and leave him a fair field and no litigation.However, Don Mike knew that between bankers there exists a certainmutual dependence, a certain cohesiveness that makes for mutualprotection. If, for instance (he told himself), he should apply to aSan Francisco bank for a loan on the ranch, the bank, prior to wastingeither time or mental energy on his application, would first ascertainfrom sources other than him, whether it was remotely worth whileconsidering the loan up to a point of sending a representative down toappraise the land. Their first move, therefore, would be to writetheir correspondent in El Toro--John Parker's bank, the FirstNational--for information regarding the Farrel family, the ranch andthe history of the mortgage. Don Mike was not such an optimist as tobelieve that the report of Parker's bank would be such as to encouragethe outside bank to proceed further in the deal.

  He was also aware that the loan would not be attractive to commercialbanks, who are forced, in self-protection, to loan their money onliquid assets. He must therefore turn to the savings-banks and trustcompanies. But here again he faced an impasse. Such institutions loanmoney for the purpose of securing interest on it; the last thing theywish to do is to be forced, in the protection of the loan, to foreclosea mortgage. Hence, should they entertain the slightest doubt of hisinability to repay the mortgage; should they be forced to consider theprobability of foreclosure eventually, he knew they would not considerthe loan. Don Mike was bitterly aware of the fact that the history ofhis family bad been one of waste, extravagance, carelessness andinefficiency. In order to place the ranch on a paying basis and takeup John Parker's mortgage, therefore, he would have to have a new loanof not less than half a million dollars, and at six per cent., thelowest rate of interest he could hope to obtain, his annual interestcharge would be thirty thousand dollars. Naturally he would beexpected to repay the loan gradually--say at the rate of fifty thousanddollars a year. By running ten thousand head of cattle on the Palomarhe knew he could meet his payments of interest and principal withoutlessening his working capital, but he could not do it by attempting toraise scrub beef cattle. He would gradually produce a herd ofpure-bred Herefords, but in the meantime he would have to buy"feeders," grow them out on the Palo
mar range and sell them at aprofit. During the present high price of beef cattle, he dared notgamble on borrowed capital, else with a slump in prices he might bedestroyed. It would be a year or two, at least, before he might acceptthat risk; indeed, the knowledge of this condition had induced him tolease the San Gregorio for one year to the Basque sheep man, AndreLoustalot. If, in the interim, he should succeed in saving the ranch,he knew that a rest of one year would enable the range to recover fromthe damage inflicted upon it by the sheep.

  In his desolation there came to him presently a wave of the strongreligious faith that was his sole unencumbered heritage. Once again hewas a trustful little boy. He slid out of the great bed of hisancestors and knelt on the old rag mat beside it; he poured out anappeal for help from One who, he had been told--who, he trulybelieved--marked the sparrow's fall. Don Mike was far from being theorthodox person one ordinarily visualizes in a Spanish-Irish Catholic,but he was deeply religious, his religious impulse taking quitenaturally a much more practical form and one most pleasing to himselfand his neighbors, in that it impelled him to be brave and kind andhopeful, a gentleman in all that the word implies. He valued far morethan he did the promise of a mansion in the skies a certaintranquillity of spirit which comes of conscious virtue.

  When he rose from his knees he had a feeling that God had not losttrack of him and that, despite a long list of debit entries, acelestial accountant had, at some period in Don Mike's life, posted aconsiderable sum to his credit in the Book of Things. "That credit mayjust balance the account," he reflected, "although it is quite probableI am still working in the red ink. Well--I've asked Him for theprivilege of overdrawing my account . . . we shall see what we shallsee."

  At daylight he awakened suddenly and found himself quite mysteriouslythe possessor of a trend of reasoning that automatically forced him tosit up in bed.

  Fifteen minutes later, mounted on Panchito, he was cantering up the SanGregorio, and just as the cook at Bill Conway's camp at Agua CalienteBasin came to the door of the mess hall and yelled: "Come an' git it orI'll throw it out," Panchito slid down the gravel cut-bank into camp.

  "Where is Mr. Conway?" he demanded of the cook,

  The latter jerked a greasy thumb toward the interior of the mess hall,so, leaving Panchito "tied to the breeze," Don Mike dismounted andentered.

  "Hello there, young feller," Bill Conway roared at him.

  "Top o' the morning to you, old dirt-digger," Farrel replied. "Pleasedeal me a hand of your ham and eggs, sunny side up. How be ye, Willum?"

  "R'arin' to go," Conway assured him.

  "All right. Pack up and go to-day. You're through on this job."

  "Why?"

  "I've changed my mind about fighting Parker on this dam deal--and noprofanity intended."

  "But--but--"

  "But me no buts, even if you are the goat. You're through. I forbidthe bans. The eggs, man! I'm famished. The midnight ride of PaulRevere was a mere exercise gallop, because he started shortly aftersupper, but the morning ride of Mike Farrel has been done on fresh air."

  "You're a lunatic. If you knew what I know, Miguel--"

  "Hush! I want to ascertain what you know. Bet you a dollar!" Heslammed a dollar down on the table and held his palm over it.

  Bill Conway produced a dollar and likewise covered it. "Very well,son," he replied. "I'll see your dollar. What's the nature of thebet?"

  "I'm betting a dollar you didn't draw the plans for this dam."

  Bill Conway flipped his dollar over to his guest.

  "I'm betting two dollars!"

  Conway took two silver dollars from his vest pocket and laid them onthe table. "And the bet?" he queried.

  "I'm betting two dollars the plans were drawn by an engineer in LosAngeles."

  "Some days I can't lay up a cent," the old contractor complained, andparted with his two dollars.

  "I'm betting four dollars!" Farrel challenged.

  "See your four dollars," Conway retorted and covered the bet.

  "I'm betting that those plans were drawn by the engineer of the SouthCoast Power Corporation."

  "Death loves a shining mark, Michael, my boy. Hand over that fourdollars."

  Farrel produced a five dollar bill. "I'm betting five dollars," hechallenged again.

  "Not with me, son. You're too good. I suppose your next bet will bethat the plans were drawn by the engineer of the Central CaliforniaPower Company."

  "Were they?"

  "Yes."

  "Got a set of the plans with his name on them?"

  "You bet."

  "I want them."

  "They're yours, provided you tell your Uncle Bill the Big Idea."

  Don Mike flipped some pepper and salt on his eggs and while doing soproceeded to elucidate.

  "If I had two projects in mind--one for irrigation and one for power, Iwould not, of course, unless I happened to be a public servicecorporation engaged in producing and selling electric power, considerfor a moment wasting my time monkeying with the hydro-electricbuzz-saw. Indeed, I would have to sell it, for with the juicedeveloped here I could not hope to compete in a limited field with theestablished power companies. I would proceed to negotiate the sale ofthis by-product to the highest bidder. Bill, do you know that I'veseen enough flood water running down the San Gregorio every winter tohave furnished, if it could have been stored in Agua Caliente Basin,sufficient water to irrigate the San Gregorio Valley for five years?"

  "I know it, Miguel."

  "All a power company requires is the assurance that the dam you arebuilding will impound in the Agua Caliente Basin during an ordinarilywet winter, sufficient run-off water to insure them against a shortageduring the summer. After the water has passed over their wheelsthey're through with it and it can be used for irrigation, can it not?"

  "Yes, of course, although you'd have to have a greater volume of waterthan the amount coming through the power company's pen-stocks. Butthat's easily arranged. Two ditches, Miguel!"

  "If the engineer of the Central California Power Company had notexamined the possibilities here and approved of them, it is reasonableto suppose that he would not have drawn the plans and Parker would nothave engaged you to build the dam."

  "You're on the target, son. Go on."

  "Then Parker must have entered into an agreement to sell, and theCentral California Power Company must have agreed to buy, if and whenParker could secure legal title to the Rancho Palomar, a certain numberof miner's inches of water daily, in perpetuity, together with certainlands for a power station and a perpetual right of way for their powerlines over the lands of this ranch."

  "Well, son, that's what I would have done in a similar situation.Nothing to be made by letting that hydro-electric opportunity liefallow. No profit in wasting kilowatts, Miguel. We haven't got athird of the power necessary for the proper development/of this state."

  "In the absence of conclusive proof to the contrary, Bill, I amconvinced that John Parker did enter into such a contract. Naturally,until he should secure the title to the ranch, the railroad commission,which regulates all public service corporations in this state, wouldnot grant the power company permission to gamble on the truth of anofficial report that I had been killed in Siberia."

  "Your reasoning is sound. Now eat, and after breakfast I'll tell youthings. Your visit and your eager inquiries have started a train ofthought in my thick head."

  Don Mike obeyed, and while he devoted himself to his breakfast, oldBill Conway amused himself rolling pellets out of bread and flippingthem at a knot-hole in the rough wall of the mess hall.

  "You've been pretty well troubled, haven't you, son?" he remarkedpaternally when Don Mike, having completed his meal, sat back andcommenced rolling a cigarette.

  "_Si_. Got your train of thought ditched, Bill?"

  "I have. Assuming that Parker has made a deal with the CentralCalifornia Power Company, what I want to know is: Why did he do it?"

  "I've just told you wh
y he did it."

  "You've just told me why he would make a deal with a power company, butyou haven't explained why he should make a deal with this _particular_power company."

  "I cannot answer that question, Bill."

  "Nor can I. But there's a reason--perhaps two reasons. Territorially,this power site is the natural property of but two powercorporations--the Central California and the South Coast. The SouthCoast is the second largest corporation of its kind in the state; theCentral California is the fifth. Why go gunning for a dickey bird whenyou can tie up to an eagle?"

  They were both silent, pondering the question. Then said Bill Conway,"Well, son, if I had as much curiosity regarding the reason for thissituation as you have, I'd most certainly spend some money to find out."

  "I have the money and I am prepared to spend it. How would you start,Bill?"

  "Well, I'd buy a couple of shares of stock, in the Central CaliforniaPower Company as a starter. Then I would descend upon the main officeof the company, exhibit my stock and claim my stockholder's right tolook over the list of stockholders and bondholders of record; also, theboard of directors and the minutes of the previous meetings. You maynot find John Parker's name listed either as stockholder, bondholder ordirector, but you might find the First National Bank of El Toro,represented by the cashier or the first vice-president of thatinstitution. Also, if I were you, I'd just naturally hop the rattlerfor San Francisco, hie myself to some stockbroker's office to buy thisstock, and while buying it look over the daily reports of the stockmarket for the past few years and see if the figures suggested anythingto me."

  "Anything else?"

  "Thus endeth the first lesson, Miguel. At that it's only a vaguesuspicion. Get out of my way, boy. I'm going out to build a dam andyou're not ready to stop me--yet."

  "Bill, I'm serious about this. I want you to cease operations."

  Bill Conway turned upon him almost angrily. "What for?" he demanded.

  "I own the Rancho Palomar. I forbid it. I have a good and sufficientreason."

  "But, son, I can finance the confounded dam. I have it financedalready."

  "So have I--if I cared to accept favors."

  Bill Conway approached and took his young friend by each shoulder."Son," he pleaded, "please let me build this dam. I was never so plumbinterested in any job before. I'll take a chance. I know what I'mgoing to do and how I'm going to do it, and you aren't going to beobligated the least little bit. Isn't John Parker stuck for it all, inthe long run? Why, I've got that _hombre_ by the short hair."

  "I know, but long before you can collect from him you'll be financiallyembarrassed."

  "Don't worry. I've been a miser all my life and I've got a lot ofmoney hid out. Please, son, quit interfering with me. You asked me tohelp you out, I accepted and I'm going to go through until stopped bylegal procedure. And if you have the law on me I'll never speak to youagain."

  "Your attitude doesn't fit in with my plans, Bill Conway."

  "Yours don't fit in with mine. Besides, I'm older than you and ifthere was one thing your father taught you it was respect for yourelders. Two heads are better than one. You crack right along and tryto save your ranch in your way and I'll crack right along and try tosave it my way. You pay your way and I'll pay mine. That's fair,isn't it?"

  "Yes, but--"

  "Fiddlesticks; on your way. You're wasting your breath arguing withme."

  Don Mike knew it. "Well, let me have a set of the plans," he concludedsulkily.

  Bill Conway handed him out a roll of blue-prints and Farrel mountedPanchito and returned to the hacienda. The blue-prints he hid in thebarn before presenting himself at the house. He knew his absence fromthe breakfast-table would not be commented upon, because for a week,during the round-up of the cattle, he and Pablo and the latter's malerelatives who helped in the riding, had left the hacienda at daylightafter partaking of a four o'clock breakfast.