CHAPTER XV
IN COUNCIL
There come days in a man's life which are not easily forgotten. Somepoignant incident indelibly fixes them upon memory, and they becomelandmarks in his career. The next day became one of such in Gordon'slife.
It was just a little extraordinary, too, that memory should haveselected this particular day in preference to the preceding one. Thefirst of the two should undoubtedly have been the more significant, forit partook of a nature which appealed directly to those innermost hopesand yearnings of a youthful heart. Surely, before all things in life,Nature claims to itself the passionate yearning of the sexes asparamount. Gordon had fought for the woman he loved, and basked in hersmiles of approval at his victory. Was not this sufficient to make ita day of days? The psychological fact remained, the indelible memoryof the next day was planted on the mysterious photographic plates ofhis mental camera in preference.
It was a day of wild excitement. It was a day of hopes raised to afevered pitch, and then hurled headlong to a bottomless abyss ofdespair. It was a day of passionate feeling and bitter memories. Aday of hopeless looking forward and of depression. Then, as a last andfinal twist of the whirligig of emotion, it resolved itself into onegreat burst of enthusiasm and hope.
It started in at the earliest hour. Hip-Lee was preparing breakfast,and Gordon was still dressing. A note was brought from Peter McSwain.Gordon opened it, and the first emotions of an eventful day began totake definite shape.
The note informed him that McSwain had been faithful to his promise.He, assisted by Mike Callahan of the livery barn, had workedstrenuously. The results had been splendid amongst all the principallandholders in Snake's Fall and Buffalo Point. Prices this morningwere "skied" prohibitively.
The holders saw their advantage. Even if the railroad bought inSnake's Fall they would be "on velvet." They agreed that it was thefirst sound move made. They agreed that it was good to "jolly" arailroad. The men who did not hold in Buffalo only held insignificantproperty in Snake's Fall, which would be useless to the railroad. Butshould the railroad buy there, even these would be benefited.
Gordon began to feel that palpitating excitement in the stomachindicative of a disturbed nervous system. Things were stirring. Heexamined the situation from the view point of yesterday's encounter.With these people working in with him, the future certainty began tolook brighter than when he had retired to bed over-night.
Mallinsbee came along after breakfast, and Gordon showed him McSwain'smessage.
The rancher read it over twice. Then his opinion came in deep,rumbling notes.
"That's sure what you needed," he said, with a shrewd, twinkling smile."But I don't guess the shoutin's begun."
"No?"
Gordon eyed him uneasily. He had felt rather pleased.
"We can't shout till Slosson talks," the rancher went on. "That talkof Peter's is still only our side of the play."
"Yes."
Gordon was at his desk.
Then a diversion was created by the advent of a fat stranger with alarge expanse of highly colored waistcoat, and a watchguard to match.
He wanted to talk "sites," and spent half an hour doing so. When hehad gone Mallinsbee offered an explanation which had passed Gordon'sinexperience by.
"That feller's worried," he observed. "He's got wind there's somethingdoing, and is scared to death the speculators are to be shut out. He'sgoing back to report to the boys. Maybe we'll hear from Peteragain--later. I wonder what Slosson's thinking?"
Gordon smiled.
"I doubt if he can think yet," he said. "I allow he was upsetyesterday. I'd give a dollar to see him when he starts to try and buy."
"You're feeling sure."
Mallinsbee's doubt was pretty evident.
"Sure? I'm sure of nothing about Slosson except his particular dislikeof me, and, through me, of you."
"Just so. And when a man hates the way he hates you, if he's brighthe'll try to make things hum."
"He's bright all right," allowed Gordon.
A further diversion was created. Two men arrived in a buckboard, andMallinsbee's explanation was verified. They were looking forinformation. It was said the railroad was to boycott Buffalo Point.It was said, even, that they had bought in Snake's Fall. Was this so?And, anyway, what was the meaning of the rise in prices at that end?
"Why, say," finished up one of the men, "when I was talking to Mason,the dry goods man, this morning, he told me there wasn't a speculatoraround who'd money enough to buy his spare holdings in Snake's. Andwhen I asked him the figger he said he needed ten thousand dollars fortwo side street plots and twenty thousand for two avenue fronts. He'scrazy, sure."
Mallinsbee shook his head.
"Not crazy. Just bright."
When the man had departed, and Mallinsbee had removed the patch fromhis eye, he smiled over at Gordon.
"Peter's surely done his work," he said.
Gordon warmed with enthusiasm. If those were the prices ruling Mr.Slosson would have no option but to be squeezed between the twointerests. Whatever his personal feelings, he must make good with hiscompany. No agent, unless he were quite crazy, would dare face suchprices for his principals.
"I don't see that Slosson's a leg to stand on," he cried, hisenthusiasm bubbling. "We've just got to sit around and wait."
Mallinsbee agreed.
"Sure. Sit around and wait," he said, with that baffling smile of his.
Gordon shrugged, and bent over some figures he had been working on.Presently he looked up.
"How's Miss Hazel this morning?" he inquired casually. He had wantedto speak of her before, but the memory of her father's anger yesterdayhad restrained him. Now he felt he was safe.
"Just sore over things," said the old man, with a sobering of the eyes."I talked to her some last night. She guesses she owes you a heap, butit ain't nothing to what I owe you."
Gordon flushed. Then he laughed and shook his head.
"No man or woman owes me a thing who gives me the chance of a scrap,"he said.
The old man smiled.
"No," he agreed. "With a name like 'Van Henslaer'--you ain't Irish?"
"Descendant of the old early Dutch."
"Ah. They were scrappers, too."
Gordon nodded and went on with his figures. So the morning passed. Itwas a waiting for developments which both men knew would not long bedelayed. Mallinsbee was unemotional, but Gordon was all on wires drawnto great tension. The subtle warnings from Mallinsbee not to be toooptimistic had left him in a state of doubt. And an impatience tookhold of him which he found hard to restrain.
The two men shared their midday meal. Mallinsbee wanted to get back tothe ranch, but neither felt such a course to be policy yet. Besides,now that the crisis had arrived, Gordon was anxious to have hissuperior's approval for his next move. He had taken a chanceyesterday. Now he wanted to make no mistake.
The _denouement_ came within half an hour of Hip-Lee's clearing of thetable. It came with the sound of galloping hoofs, with the rush of ahorseman up to the veranda.
The two men inside the office looked at each other, and Gordon rose anddashed at the window.
"It's McSwain," he said, and returned to the haven of his seat behindhis desk. His announcement had been cool enough, but his heart washammering against his ribs.
"Then I guess things are going queer," said the rancher pessimistically.
Gordon was about to reply when the door was abruptly thrust open, andthe hot face and hotter eyes of Peter appeared in the doorway.
"Well?"
For the life of him Gordon could not have withheld that sharp, nervousinquiry.
McSwain came right into the room and drew the door closed after him.Quite suddenly his eyes began to smile in that fashion which soexpresses chagrin. He flung his hat on Gordon's desk and sat himselfon the corner of it. Then he deliberately drew a long breath.
"I'm as worried as a cat goin' to ha
ve kittens," he said. "That fellerSlosson's beat us. Maybe he's stark, starin' crazy, maybe he ain't.Anyways he came right along to me this morning with a face like chewedup dogs' meat, with a limp on him that 'ud ha' made the fortune of atramp, and a mitt all doped up with a dry goods store o' cotton-batten,and asked me the price of my holdings in Snake's. I guessed I wasn'tselling my hotel lot, but I'd two Main Street frontages that were worthten thousand dollars each, and a few other bits going at the wasteground price of five thousand each."
"Well?"
This time it was Mallinsbee's inquiry.
"He closed the deal for his company, and planted the deposit."
"He closed the deal?" cried Gordon thickly, all his dreams of thefuture tumbling about his ears.
"Why, yes." McSwain regarded the younger man's hopelessly staring eyesfor one brief moment. Then he went on: "I was only the first. Thiswas after dinner. Say, in half an hour he's put his company in atSnake's to the tune of nearly a quarter million dollars. He's mad.They'll fire him. They'll repudiate the whole outfit. I tell you henever squealed at any old price. He's beat our play here. But how dowe stand up there? A crazy man comes along and makes deals which nocorporation in the world would stand for. There ain't a site inSnake's worth more'n a hundred dollars to a railroad who's got to booma place. Well, if his corporation turns him down, how do we stand?Are they goin' to pay? No, sir; not on your life."
"They'll have to stand it," said Mallinsbee.
"They'll try and fight it," retorted Peter hotly.
"And you can't graft the courts like a railroad can," put in Gordonquickly.
"They'll have to stand it," repeated Mallinsbee doggedly. "An' I'lltell you how. Maybe Slosson's crazy. Maybe he's crazy to beat us, an'I allow he's not without reason for doin' it--now. But it would costthe railroad a big pile to shift that depot here. It would have beenbetter for them in the end. You see, they'd have got their holdings inthe township here for pretty well nix, and so they wouldn't have feltthe cost of the depot. The city would have paid that, as well as otherold profits. Anyway, the capital would have had to be laid out. InSnake's they are laying out capital in their holdings only. They'llget it back all right, all right--and profits. Slosson's relying onmaking up their leeway for them in the boom. He's takin' that chance,because he's crazy to beat--us."
"And he's done it," said Gordon sharply.
"Yep. He's done it," muttered McSwain regretfully.
"He surely has," agreed Mallinsbee, without emotion.
Gordon was the only one of the trio who appeared to be depressed.McSwain had the consolation of getting his profit in Snake's Fall. Theonly sense in which he was a loser was that his holdings in BuffaloPoint were larger than in the other place. Therefore he was able toregard the matter more calmly, in the light of the fortunes of war.Mallinsbee, who had staked all his hopes on Buffalo Point, seemedutterly unaffected.
A few minutes later McSwain hurried away for the purpose of watchingfurther developments, promising to return in the evening and report.Neither he nor Gordon felt that there was the least hope whatever.Mallinsbee offered no opinion.
When Peter had ridden off, and the two men were left alone, Gordon,weighed down with his failure, began to give expression to his feelings.
He looked over at the strong face of his benefactor, and took hiscourage in both hands.
"Mr. Mallinsbee," he said diffidently, "I want to tell you something ofwhat I feel at the way things have gone through--my failure. I----"
Mallinsbee had thrust his fingers into his waistcoat pocket, and nowdrew forth a cigar.
"Say, have a smoke, boy," he said, in his blunt, kindly fashion."That's a dollar an' a half smoke," he went on, "an' I brought two of'em over from the ranch to celebrate on. Guess we best celebrate rightnow."
It was a doleful smile which looked back at the rancher as Gordonaccepted the proffered cigar.
"But I----"
"Say, don't bite the end off," interrupted Mallinsbee. "Here's apiercer."
"Thanks. But you must let----"
"I'll be mighty glad to have a light," the other went on hastily.
Gordon was thus forced to silence, and Mallinsbee continued.
"Say, boy," he said, as he settled himself comfortably to enjoy hisexpensive cigar, "a business life is just the only thing better thanranching, I'm beginning to guess. You got to figure on things thisway: ranching you got so many hands around, so much grazin', so manycattle. Your only enemy is disease. So many head of cows will produceso many calves, and Nature does the rest. That's ranching in a kind ofoutline which sort of reduces it to a question of figures which itwouldn't need a trick reckoner to work out. Now business is diff'rent.Ther's always the other feller, and you 'most always feel he's brighterthan you. But he ain't. He's just figurin' the same way at his end ofthe deal. So, you see, the real principles of commerce aren'tdependent on the things you got and Nature, same as ranching. Yourassets ain't worth the paper they're written on--till you've got yourman where you want him. Now, to do that you got to ferget you everwere born honest. You've just got one object in life, and that is toget the other feller where you want him. It don't matter how you doit, short of murder. If you succeed, folks'll shout an' say what abright boy you are. If you fail they'll say you're a mutt. The wholething's a play there ain't no rules to except those the p'lice handle,and even they don't count when your assets are plenty. You'll hearfolks shouting at revival meetings, an' psalm-smitin' around their citychurches. You'll hear them brag honesty an' righteousness till youfeel you're a worse sinner than ever was found in the Bible. You'llhave 'em come an' look you in the eye and swear to truth, and everyother old play invented to allay suspicions. And all the time it's agreat big bluff for them to get you where _they_ want you. An' that'swhy the game's worth playing--even when you're beat. If business wasdead straight; if you could stake your all on a man's word; if ther'weren't a man who would take graft; if you didn't know the other fellerwas yearning to handle your wad--why, the game wouldn't be acircumstance to ranching."
"That sounds pretty cynical," protested Gordon. He, too, was smoking,but the failure of his scheme left him unsmiling.
"It's the truth. We were trying to get Slosson where we wanted him.He's doing the same by us. So far he seems to monopolize most of theadvantage. The question remaining to us now--and it's the only one ofinterest from our end of the line--is: Will the President of the UnionGrayling and Ukataw Railroad do as I think he will--back his agent'splay? Will he stand for his crazy buying? Will he fall for Slosson'sgame to get us where he wants us? I believe he will, but we can't bedead certain. Our only chance is to try and make it so he won't--evenif the Snake's boys lose their stuff up there."
Gordon was sitting up. His cigar was removed from the corner of hismouth and held poised over an ash-tray. There was a sharp look ofinquiry in his eyes.
"What's the President of the Union Grayling and Ukataw Railroad got todo with it?" he demanded quickly.
The rancher raised his heavy brows.
"This is a branch of his road, I guess."
"A--a branch?" Gordon's breath was coming rapidly.
"Sure. You see, it's a branch linking up with the Southern Trunkroute. It runs into the Grayling line where it enters the Rockies.That's how you make the coast this way."
"And this--is part of the Union Grayling system?" Gordon persisted,his blue eyes getting bigger and bigger with excitement.
"Sure," nodded Mallinsbee, watching him closely.
Then the explosion came. Gordon could contain himself no longer. Heflung his newly lit dollar-and-a-half cigar on the floor with all theforce of pent feelings and leaped to his feet.
"Great Scott!" he cried. "The President of that road is my father!"
"Eh?" Then, without another sign, Mallinsbee pointed reproachfully atthe fallen cigar. "It cost a dollar an' a ha'f, boy."
But Gordon was beside himself with excitement. A great flash
of lightand hope was shining through his recent mental darkness. It didn'tmatter to him at that moment if the cigar had cost a thousand dollars.
"But--but don't you understand?" he almost yelled. "The President ofthe Union Grayling and Ukataw is my--father."
"James Carbhoy."
"Yes, yes. My name's Gordon Van Henslaer Carbhoy."
Then quite suddenly Gordon sat down and began to laugh. Then hestooped and picked up his cigar. He was still laughing, while hecarefully wiped the dust from the cigar's moistened end.
"James Carbhoy's your--father?"
Mallinsbee was no longer disturbed at the waste of the cigar. All hisattention was fixed on that laughing face in front of him.
Gordon nodded delightedly, while he once more thrust his cigar into thecorner of his mouth.
"You're thinkin' something?"
Mallinsbee was becoming infected by the other's manner.
"Sure I am." Gordon nodded. "I'm thinking a heap. Say, the fight hasshifted its battle-ground. It's only just going to begin. Gee, if I'donly thought of it before! The Union Grayling and Ukataw! It's fate.Say, it isn't Slosson any longer. It's son and father. I've got toscrap the old dad. Gee! It's colossal. Say, can you beat it? I'vegot to make my little pile out of my old dad. And--he sent me out tomake it and show him what I could do."
"But how? I don't just see----"
"How? How?"
Gordon's laughing eyes sobered. He suddenly realized that he had onlyconsidered the humorous side of the position. His brain began to workat express speed. How was he to turn this thing to account? How?Yes--how?
Mallinsbee watched him for many silent minutes. And during thoseminutes scheme after scheme, each one more wild than its predecessor,flashed through Gordon's brain. None of them suggested any sanepossibility. He knew he was up against one of the most brilliantfinanciers of the country, who, in a matter like this, would regard hisown son simply as "the other feller." He must trick him. But how?How?
For a long time, in spite of his excited delight, Gordon saw no glamourof a hope of dealing successfully with his father. Then all in a flashhe remembered something. He remembered he still had his father'sprivate code book with him. He remembered Slosson. If Slosson couldonly be--silenced.
In a moment he was on his feet again.
"I've got it!" he cried exultantly. "I've got it, Mr. Mallinsbee! Yousaid that it didn't matter, short of murder, how we got the otherfeller where we needed him. Will you come in on the wildest, mostcrazy scheme you ever heard of? We can beat the game, and we'll takemoney for nothing. We can make my dad build the depot right here andscrap Snake's Fall. We can make him--and without any murder. Will youcome in?"
"In what?" demanded a girlish voice from the veranda doorway.
Gordon swung round, and Mallinsbee turned his smiling, twinkling eyesupon his daughter, who had arrived all unnoticed.
"It's a scheme he's got to beat his father, gal," laughed Mallinsbee ina deep-throated chuckle.
"His father?" Hazel turned her smiling, inquiring eyes upon the manwho had rescued her yesterday.
"Yes, James Carbhoy," said her father, "the President of this railroad."
Hazel's eyes widened, and their smile died out.
"Your father--the--millionaire--James Carbhoy?" she said. And her noteof regret must have been plain to anybody less excited than Gordon.
But Gordon was beyond all observation of such subtle inflections. Hewas obsessed with his wild scheme. He started forward. Walking pastHazel, he closed and locked the door. Then with alert eyes he glancedat the window. It was open. He shut it and secured it. Then he set achair for Hazel close beside her father, and finally brought his ownchair round and sat himself down facing them.
"Listen to me, and I'll tell you," he grinned, his whole body throbbingwith a joyous humor. "We're going to get the other feller where weneed him, and that other feller is my--dear--old--Dad!"