CHAPTER V
A LETTER HOME
The bathroom proved to be a veritable rabbit hutch, though clean. ButGordon was astonished to find how far the old life had fallen awaybehind him. The bareness of the room did not disturb him in the least,and, after a wash in the trough at the back of the hotel, and havingdried himself on a towel that may have seen cleaner days, and refusedto be inveigled by the attraction of an unclean comb, securely tied toa defective mirror in the passage to the back door, he came back to hisbedroom with an added appreciation for its questionable luxury.
Mallinsbee had ridden off on a great chestnut horse, nor, until Gordonsaw him in the saddle, was he definitely able to classify him in hismind. Big as the amiable stranger was, he sat in the saddle as thoughhe had been born in it, and he handled his horse as only a cattle mancan.
At supper-time he had an opportunity of studying something of hisfellow guests in the house. They were a mixed gathering, but everytable in the dining-room was full to overflowing. Certainly McSwainwas justified in his claim to a rush of business.
It was quickly obvious to Gordon that these people were by no meansnatives of the place. The majority were undoubtedly business men.Shrewd, keen men of the speculative type, judging from the babel oftalk going on about him. As far as he could make out the wholeinterest of the place was land. Land--always land--and again land.
In view of Mallinsbee's friendship Peter McSwain had requested him tosit beside him at his especial table. And he forthwith began toquestion his host.
"Seems to be a big talk of land going on," he said, as he ate hismacaroni soup.
Peter gulped violently at a long tube of macaroni and nearly choked.
"Sure," he said, his eyes wide with an expression the meaning of whichGordon was never quite certain about. It might have meant mereastonishment, but it also suggested resentment. "Sure it's land. Whatelse, unless it's coal, would they talk in Snake's Fall? Every blamedfeller you see settin' around in this room is what Silas Mallinsbeecalls a ground shark. Which means," he added, with a grin, "they'reout to buy or steal land around Snake's Fall. We guess they preferstealing. The place is bung full with 'em."
Gordon's interest deepened.
"But why, if you'll forgive me, around--Snake's Fall?"
"Young man," said Peter severely, "you're new to the place, and that'syour excuse for such ignorance." He pushed his half-finished soupaside and adopted an impressive pose with both elbows on the table, hishands together, and one finger describing acrobatic gyrations to pointhis words. The manner of it fascinated his hearer. "Let me tell you,sir, that Snake's Fall is the new coalfield of this great country.Sir," he added, with great dramatic effect, "Snake's Fall is capable ofsupplying the coal of the _world_! There's hundreds of billions oftons of high-grade coal underlying these silly-lookin' hummocks theycall the foothills. All this land around Snake's Fall was SilasMallinsbee's ranch, and he found the coal. That's why I said SilasMallinsbee was the father of Snake's Fall. He sold this land to agreat coal corporation, and bought land away further up in the hills,where he still runs his ranch. He's a great man with a pile ofdollars. And he's clever, too. He's kep' for himself all the landeither side of the railroad, except this town. And that's why allthese land pirates, or ground sharks, are around. The railroad ain'tdeclared their land yet, and everybody's waiting to jump in. Thecoal's five miles west of here, and the railroad has got to say ifthey'll keep the depot where it is, or build a new one further along,right on the coal seams. That's the play we're all watching. We wantto buy right. We want to buy for the boom. These guys here are out toget in on the ground floor, and see prices go sky high--when they'vebought. There'll be some dandy piles made in this play--and lost."
By the time he had finished Gordon was agog with excitement. It hadstirred as the man began to talk, without his fully understanding themeaning of it. Then, as he proceeded, it grew, and with its growthcame enlightenment. Vaguely he saw the hand of Providence in theaffairs of the last few days.
He had planned his own little matters, or rather he had drifted intothem, and then the gods of fortune had taken a hand. And the way ofit. He began to smile. A strangely impish mood must have stirredthem. His journey. His discovery of the absurdity of his own plans inthe nick of time. His visit to the smoker. His play with a "sharp."His fight, and his sudden and uncalculated arrival at Snake's Fall.Here he was, quite without the least intention of his own, landed intothe only sort of place in which it could be reasonably hoped he mightpick up a fortune quickly. He wondered how he was likely to fare incompetition with these ground sharks about him. And the thought madehim begin to laugh.
McSwain eyed him doubtfully.
"Amusin', ain't it?" he said, without appreciation.
Gordon shook his head.
"If you only knew--it is."
Peter went on with his food for a few moments in silence.
"I s'pose the boom will come big when it does start?" hazarded Gordonpresently.
"Big? Say, you ain't got a grip on things yet. Snake's Fall couldsupply the whole--not half--world with high-grade stove coal. Doesthat tell you anything? No? Wal, it jest means that when the railroadsays the word, hundred-dollar plots 'll fetch a thousand dollars in aweek, and maybe ten thousand in a month or less. I tell you right herethat in six months from the time the railroad talks there'll be fiftythousand speculators right here, and we'll most of us rake in ourpiles. We only got to jump in at the start, maybe a bit before, andthe game's right in our hands. Get me? I tell you, sir, this isbigger than the first Kootenay rush and nigh as big as the Cobalt boomin Canada."
Gordon was impressed.
"And to think I came here by accident."
"Accident?"
"You see, I was persuaded--against my will."
His eyes were twinkling.
"Ah, Mallinsbee persuaded you--being a friend of his."
"No. As a matter of fact I think it was the train conductor whopersuaded me."
"He's a wise guy, then."
"Ye-es. I don't guess I'll see him again. I surely owe him somethingfor what he did."
Peter nodded seriously as he gazed at the humorous eyes of hiscompanion.
"He's given you the chance of--a lifetime, sir. And that's a thingther' ain't many in this country yearning to do."
After that the meal progressed in silence until the pie was handedround.
Gordon was thinking hard. He was wondering, in view of what he hadheard, what he ought to do. Land. What did he know about land? Howcould he measure his wits against the wits of such land speculators ashe saw about him? He studied the faces of some of the clamorous crowdin the dining-room. They were a strangely mixed lot. There wereundoubtedly men of substance among them, but equally surely themajority were adventurers looking to step into the arena of the comingboom and wrest a slice of fortune by hook, or, more probably, by crook.What did he know? What could he do? And his mind went back to thesharp on the train, and the way he had fallen to the man's snare.Again he wanted to laugh. He had counted the bills which Mallinsbeehad handed him, in the privacy of his bathroom. He only remembered tohave lost about two hundred dollars to the gambler. The dollars handedto him amounted to well over three hundred. The miracle of it all. Hehad nearly killed the gambler, and, instead of losing, he had made overa hundred dollars on the deal. The miracle of it!
"Do you believe in miracles?" he laughed abruptly.
Peter glanced up from his plate suspiciously. Then he promptly joinedin the other's amusement. He always remembered that this newcomer wasa friend of Silas Mallinsbee.
"Meracles?" he said reflectively. "I can't say I always did. But oneor two things have made some difference that way. Takin' one extradrink saved my life once. The takin' of that drink wasn't jest ameracle," he added dryly. "It was more of a habit them days. Still,it was a meracle in a way. Me an' my brother wer' on a bust. We werefeeling that good we was handin' out our pasts
in lumps to each other,same as if we was strangers, and wasn't raised around the same cabbigepatch. Wal, he'd borrowed an automobile and left the saloon to wind itup, and get things fixed. While he was gone the boys handed me anothercocktail. Then the bartender slung one at me, an' I hadn't no moresense than to buy another one myself. Then some damn fool thought ryewas the best mix for drinkin' on top o' cocktails, an' so they put meto bed. Guess I never see my brother get back from that joy ride." Hesighed. "I allow they had to bury a lot of that automobile with him,he was so mussed up. Sort o' meracle, you'd say? Then there wasanother time. Guess it was my wife. She was one o' them females whomake you feel you want to associate with tame earthworms. Sort o'female who never knew what a sick headache was, an' sang hymns of aSunday evening, and played a harmonium when she was feelin' in sperits.Sort o' female who couldn't help smellin' out when you was lyin' toher, an' gener'ly told you of it. A good woman though, an' don't yerfergit it. Wal, I got sick once an' when I got right again she guessedit was up to 'em to insure myself in her favor. Guess I'd just paid myfirst premium when she goes an' takes colic an' dies. I did all Iknew. I give her ginger, an' hot-water bags, an' poultices. It didn'tmake no sort o' difference. She died. I ain't paid no premiums since.Sort o' meracle that," he added, with a satisfied smile. "Then there'sthis coal. I hadn't started this hotel six months when Mallinsbee getsbusy an' makes his deal with the corporation. You ain't goin' to makea pile out of a bum country hotel without a--meracle."
The man's gravity was impressive, and Gordon strove for sympathy.
"Yes," he declared, with smiling emphasis. "There are such things asmiracles. One has happened this day--and here. My arrival here wascertainly a miracle. A peculiarly earthy miracle, but, nevertheless,a--miracle. Say, I'll have to write some in the office. See youagain."
Gordon pushed back his chair and hurried away through the crowded roomtowards the office. But here again was a crowd. Here again was"land"--always "land." And in desperation he betook himself to hisbathroom. He felt he must write to his mother. He felt that on thishis arrival in Snake's Fall he could do no less than reassure her ofhis well-being.
Mrs. James Carbhoy sighed contentedly as she raised her eyes from thelast of a number of sheets of paper in her lap. Her husband turnedfrom his contemplation of the scorching streets, and the parchedfoliage of the wide expanse of trees beyond the window.
"Well?" he inquired. "Where is the boy?"
There was the faintest touch of anxiety in his inquiry, but his facewas perfectly controlled, and the humor in his eyes was quite unchanged.
Mrs. Carbhoy sighed again.
"I don't know. He doesn't say. Nor does he give the slightest clew."She examined the envelope of the letter. "It was mailed here in NewYork. It's a rambling sort of letter. I hope he is all right. Thishot weather is---- Do you think he----"
Her husband laughed.
"I guess he's all right. You see I don't fancy he wants us to knowwhere he is. That's come through some friend, I'd say. Just read itout."
Gordon's mother leaned back in her chair again. She was more thanready to read her beloved boy's letter again, in spite of hermisgivings. Besides, there was a hope in her thoughts that she hadmissed some clew as to his whereabouts which her clear-sighted husbandmight detect.
"DEAREST MUM:
"Destinations are mighty curious things which have a way of making uptheir minds as to whom they are terminals for, regardless of theindividual. Most of us think the matter of destination is in our ownhands. We make up our minds to go to the North Pole; well, if we getthere it's because no other terminal on the way has made up its mind toclaim us. I've surely arrived at my destination, a place I wasn'tgoing to, nor had heard of, nor dreamed of--even when I had nightmare.I guess this place must have said to itself, 'Hello, here's GordonCarbhoy on the train; he's every sort of fool, he don't know if it'sPalm Sunday or Candlemas, he hasn't got more sense than an old hen withkittens, let's divert him where we think he ought to go.' So I arrivedhere quite suddenly this afternoon and, in consequence, have wastedsome fifty odd dollars of passage money. It's a good beginning, andone the old Dad 'll surely appreciate.
"Talking of the old Dad, I'd like you to tell him from me that I don'tthink graft is confined to--big finance. This is a discovery he'slikely to be interested in. Also, since he's largely interested inrailroads, though not from a traveling point of view, I would point outthat much might be done to improve accommodation. The aisles are toonarrow and the corners of the seats are too sharp. Furthermore, thebest money-making scheme I can think of at the moment is a billet as aconductor of a transcontinental express.
"However, these things are just first impressions.
"There are other impressions I won't discuss here. They relate toarrival platforms of depots. When a fellow gets out on his own in theworld, there are many things with which he comes into contact liable tostrike him forcibly. Those are the things in life calculated to teachhim much that may be useful to him afterwards. I have already comeinto contact with such things, and though they are liable to leave animpression of soreness generally, their lessons are quite sound.
"On the whole, in spite of having lost fifty odd dollars on my railroadticket, my first two or three days' adventures have left me with amargin of profit such as I could not reasonably have expected. Imention this to show you, presuming that the Dad has told you theobject of my going, that my eye is definitely focused on the primarypurpose of my ramblings.
"I am keeping my eyes well open and one or two of my observations mightbe of interest to you.
"I have discovered that the luxurious bath is not actually necessary tolife, and, from a hygienic point of view, there's no real drawback tothe kind of soap vulgarly known as 'hoss.' Furthermore, the filtrationof water for ablutionary purposes is quite unnecessary. All it needsis to be of a consistency that'll percolate through a fish net.Moreover, judging from observations only, I have discovered that a comband brush, if securely chained up, can be used on any number of headswithout damaging results.
"Observation cannot be considered complete without its being turnedupon one's fellow-creatures. I have already come into contact withsome very interesting specimens of my kind. Without worrying you withdetails I have found some of them really worth while. Generalizing,I'd like to say right here that man seems to be a creature of curioushabits--many of which are bad. I don't say this with malice. On thecontrary, I say it with appreciation. And, too, I never realized whata general hobby amongst men the collecting of dollars was. It must beall the more interesting that, as a collection, it never seemscompleted. I'd like to remark that view points change quickly undergiven circumstances, and I am now bitten with the desire to become acollector.
"Furthermore, my focus had readjusted itself already. For instance, Ifeel no repulsion at the manners displayed in the dining-room of asmall country 'hotel.' I feel sure that the man who eats with hismouth open and snores at the same time is quite justified, if hehappens to be bigger and stronger than the man who hears and sees him.I also feel that a man is only within his rights in having two or eventhree helpings of every dish in a hotel run on the American plan,unless the limit to a man's capacity is definitely estimated on theprinted tariff. Another observation came my way. Honesty seems to bea matter of variable quality. A nice ethical problem is suggested bythe following incident. A man robs his victim; a righteously indignantonlooker sees the transaction, and his honesty-loving nature rebels.He forthwith robs the robber and hands the proceeds of his robbery tothe original victim. This seems to me to open up a road to discussionwhich I'm sure the Dad and I would enjoy--though not at this distance.
"I have already learned that there are plenty of great men in the worldwhose existence I had never suspected. I have a feeling that localcelebrities have a greater glory than national heroes. GeorgeWashington never told a lie, it is true, and his birthday forms anadequate excuse for a certain stimulation in the
enjoyments of apeople. But he never discovered a paying field for speculation by thedollar chasers. Until a man does that he can have no understanding ofreal glory.
"I hope you and Gracie are well. I think it would be advisable tocheck Gracie's appetite for candy. I am already realizing that luxurycan be overdone. She might turn her attention to peanuts, which Iobserve is a popular pastime amongst the people with whom I have comeinto contact. I would suggest to the old Dad that five-cent cigarshave merits in spite of rumor to the contrary. I feel, too, that thedollar ninety-five he would thus save on his smoke might, in time,become a valuable asset.
"Your loving son, "GORDON."