XVI
The little council of war at once commenced an eager discussion of thenames thus indicated.
"There's your own concern, the Wolverine Company," suggested Thorne."What do you know about the way it acquired its timber?"
"Acquired in 1879," replied Amy, consulting her notes. "Partly from theBank, that held it on mortgage, and partly from individual owners."
"Welton is no crook," struck in Bob. "Even if he'd strained the law,which I doubt; he wouldn't defend himself at this late date with anymethod as indirect as this."
"I think you're right on the last point," agreed Thorne. "Proceed."
"Next is the Marston N. Leavitt firm."
"They bought their timber in a lump from a broker by the name ofRobinson; and Robinson got it of the old Joncal [A] Mill outfit; andheaven knows where they got it," put in California John.
"How long ago?"
"'84--the last transfer," said Amy.
"Doesn't look as though the situation ought to alarm them to immediateand violent action," observed Thorne. "Aren't there any more recentclaims?" he asked Amy.
"Here's one; the Modoc Mining Company, about one thousand mineralclaims, amounting to approximately 28,000 acres, filed 1903."
"That looks more promising. Patents issued in the reign of our esteemedpredecessor, Plant."
"Where are most of the claims?" asked California John.
"_All_ the claims are in the same place," replied Amy.
"The Basin!" said Bob.
Amy recited the "descriptions" within whose boundaries lay the bulk ofthe claims.
"That's it," said Bob.
"Is there any real mineral there?" inquired Thorne.
"Not that anybody ever heard of," said California John, who was himselfan old miner; "but gold is where you find it," he added cautiously.
"How's the timber?"
"It's the best stand I've seen in the mountains," said Bob.
"Well," observed Thorne, "of course it wouldn't do to say so, but Ithink we've run against the source of our opposition in the Samuelscase."
"That explains Erbe's taking the case," put in Bob; "he's counsel formost of these corporations."
"The fact that this is not a mineral country," continued Thorne,"together with the additional considerations of a thousand claims in solimited an area, and the recent date, makes it look suspicious. Iimagine the Modoc Mining Company intends to use a sawmill, rather morethan a stamp mill."
"Who are they?" asked California John.
"We must find that out. Also we must ourselves ascertain just whatcolour of mineral there is over there."
"That ought to be on the records somewhere already," Amy pointed out.
"Plant's records," said Thorne drily.
"I'm ashamed to say I haven't looked up the mineral lands act,"confessed Bob. "How did they do it?"
"Well, it's simple enough. The company made application under the lawthat allows mineral land in National Forests to be 'freely prospected,located, developed and patented.' It is necessary to show evidence of'valuable deposits.'"
"Gold and silver?"
"Not necessarily. It may be even building stone, or fine clay, limestoneor slate. Then it's up to the Forest Officer to determine whether thedeposits are actually 'valuable' or not. You can drive a horse and cartthrough the law; and it's strictly up to the Forest Officer--or has beenin the past. If he reports the deposits valuable, and on that report apatent is issued, why that settles it."
"Even if the mineral is a fake?"
"A patent is a patent. The time to head off the fraud is when theapplication is made."
"Cannot the title be upset if fraud is clearly proved?"
"I do not see how," replied Thorne. "Plant is dead. The law is veryliberal. Predetermining the value of mineral deposits is largely amatter of personal judgment. The company could, as we have seen, bringan enormous influence to bear."
"Well," said Bob, "that land will average sixty thousand feet to theacre. That's about a billion and a half feet. It's a big stake."
"If the company wasn't scared, why did they try so hard to head us off?"observed California John shrewdly.
"It will do us no harm to investigate," put in Bob, his eye kindlingwith eagerness. "It won't take long to examine the indications thoseclaims are based on."
"It's a ticklish period," objected Thorne. "I hate to embarrass theAdministration with anything ill-timed. We have much to do straighteningout what we now have on hand. You must remember we are short of men; wecan't spare many now."
"I'll tell you," suggested Amy. "Put it up to the Chief. Tell him justhow the matter stands. Let him decide."
"All right; I'll do that," agreed Thorne.
In due time the reply came. It advised circumspection in the matter; butcommanded a full report on the facts. Time enough, the Chief wrote, todecide on the course to be pursued when the case should be establishedin their own minds.
Accordingly Thorne detached Bob and Ware to investigate the mineralstatus of the Basin. The latter's long experience in prospecting nowpromised to stand the Service in good stead.
The two men camped in the Basin for three weeks, until the close ofwhich time they saw no human being. During this period they examinedcarefully the various ledges on which the mineral claims had been based.Ware pronounced them valueless, as far as he could judge.
"Some of them are just ordinary quartz dikes," said he. "I suppose theyclaim gold for them. There's nothing in it; or if this does warrant aman developing, then every citizen who lives near rock has a mine in hisback yard."
Nevertheless he made his reports as detailed as possible. In themeantime Bob accomplished a rough, or "cruiser's" estimate of thetimber.
As has been said, they found the Basin now quite deserted. The trail toSycamore Flats had apparently not been travelled since George Pollockhad ridden down it to give himself up to authority. Their preliminarylabours finished, the two Forest officers packed, and were on the verypoint of turning up the steep mountain side toward the lookout, when twohorsemen rode over the flat rock.
Naturally Bob and Ware drew up, after the mountain custom, to exchangegreetings. As the others drew nearer, Bob recognized in one the slantingeyeglasses, the close-lipped, gray moustache and the keen, cold featuresof Oldham. Ware nodded at the other man, who returned his salutation ascurtly.
"You're off your beat, Mr. Oldham," observed Bob.
"I'm after a deer," replied Oldham. "You are a little off your own beat,aren't you?"
"My beat is everywhere," replied Bob carelessly.
"What devilment you up to now, Sal?" Ware was asking of the other man,a tall, loose-jointed, freckle-faced and red-haired individual with anevil red eye.
"I'm earnin' my salary; and I misdoubt you ain't," sneered theindividual thus addressed.
"As what; gun man?" demanded Ware calmly.
"You may find that out sometime."
"I'm not as easy as young Franklin was," said Ware, dropping his handcarelessly to his side. "Don't make any mistakes when you get around toyour demonstration."
The man said nothing, but grinned, showing tobacco-stained, irregularteeth beneath his straggling, red moustache.
After a moment's further conversation the little groups separated. Bobrode on up the trail. Ware followed for perhaps ten feet, or until outof sight behind the screen of willows that bordered the stream. Then,without drawing rein, he dropped from his saddle. The horse, urged by agentle slap on the rump, followed in the narrow trail after Bob and thepack animal. Ware slipped quietly through the willows until he hadgained a point commanding the other trail. Oldham and his companion wereriding peacefully. Satisfied, Ware returned, climbed rapidly until hehad caught up with his horse, and resumed his saddle. Bob had only thatmoment noticed his absence.
"Look here, Bob," said Ware, "that fellow with Mr. Oldham is a mancalled Saleratus Bill. He's a hard citizen, a gun man, and brags ofeleven killin's in his time. Mr. Oldham or no one else couldn't pick upa wor
se citizen to go deer hunting with. When you track up with himnext, be sure that he starts and keeps going before you stir out of yourtracks."
"You don't believe that deer hunting lie, do you?" asked Bob.
Ware chuckled.
"I was wondering if _you_ did," said he.
"I guess there's no doubt as to who the Modoc Mining Company is."
"Oldham?"
"No," said Bob; "Baker and the Power Company. Oldham is Baker's man."
Ware whistled.
"Well, I suppose you know what you're talking about," said he, "but it'spretty generally understood that Oldham is on the other side of thefence. He's been bucking Baker in White Oaks on some franchise business.Everybody knows that."
Bob opened his eyes. Casting his mind back over the sources of hisinformation, he then remembered that intimation of the connectionbetween the two men had come to him when he had been looked on as amember of the inner circle, so that all things were talked of openlybefore him; that since Plant's day Oldham had in fact never appeared inBaker's interests.
"He's up in this country a good deal," Bob observed finally. "What's hesay is his business?"
"Why, he's in a little timber business, as I understand it; and he buysa few cattle--sort of general brokerage."
"I see," mused Bob.
He rode in silence for some time, breathing his horse mechanically everyfifty feet or so of the steep trail. He was busily recalling and piecingtogether the fragments of what he had at the time considered anunimportant discussion, and which he had in part forgotten.
"It's a blind," he said at last; "Oldham is working for Baker."
"What makes you think that?"
"Something I heard once."
He rode on. The Basin was dropping away beneath them; the prospect tothe north was broadening as peak after peak raised itself into the lineof ascending vision. The pines, clinging to the steep, cast bars ofshadow across the trail, which zigzagged and dodged, taking advantage ofevery ledge and each strip of firm earth. Occasionally they crossed asinging brook, shaded with willows and cottonwoods, with fragrant bayand alders, only to clamber out again to the sunny steeps.
Now Bob remembered and pieced together the whole. Baker had beenbragging that he intended to pay nothing to the Government for his waterpower. Bob could almost remember the very words. "'They've swiped abouteverything in sight for these pestiferous reserves,'" he murmured tohimself, "'but they encourage the honest prospector.... Oldham's got thewhole matter ... '" and so on, in the unfolding of the very scheme bywhich these acres had been acquired. "Near headwaters," he had said; andthat statement, combined with the fact that nothing had occurred to stirindistinct memories, had kept Bob in the dark. At the time "nearheadwaters" had meant to him the tract of yellow pine near the head ofSycamore Creek. So he had dismissed the matter. Now he saw clearly thata liberal construction could very well name the Basin as the headwatersof the drainage system from which Sycamore Creek drew, if not itssource, at least its main volume of water. He exclaimed aloud in disgustat his stupidity; which, nevertheless, as all students of psychologyknow, typified a very common though curious phenomenon in the mentalworld. Suddenly he sat up straight in his saddle. Here, should Baker andthe Modoc Mining Company prove to be one and the same, was the evidenceof fraudulent intent! Would his word suffice? Painfully reconstructingthe half-forgotten picture, he finally placed the burly figure ofWelton. Welton was there too. His corroboration would make the testimonyirrefutable.
Certainties now rushed to Bob's mind in flocks. If he had been stupid inthe matter, it was evident that Baker and Oldham had not. The fight inDurham was now explained. All the demagogic arousing of the populace,the heavy guns brought to bear in the newspaper world, the pressureexerted through political levers, even the concerted attacks on theService from the floors of Congress traced, by no great stretch ofprobabilities, to the efforts of the Power Company to stop investigationbefore it should reach their stealings. That, as California John hadsaid, was the first defence. If all investigation could be called off,naturally Baker was safe. Now that he realized the investigation must,in the natural course of events, come to his holdings, what would be hissecond line?
Of course, he knew that Bob possessed the only testimony that couldseriously damage him. Even Thorne's optimism had realized thedifficulties of pressing to a conviction against such powerful interestswithout some evidence of a fraudulent intent. Could it be that thepresence of this Saleratus Bill in company with Oldham meant that Bakerwas contemplating so sinister a removal of damaging testimony?
A moment's thought disabused him of this notion, however. Baker was notthe man to resort to violence of this sort; or at least he would not doso before exhausting all other means. Bob had been, in a way, thecapitalist's friend. Surely, before turning a gun man loose, Baker wouldhave found out definitely whether, in the first place, Bob was inclinedto push the case; and secondly, whether he could not be persuaded torefrain from introducing his personal testimony. The longer Bob lookedat the state of affairs, the more fantastic seemed the hypothesis thatthe gun man had been brought into the country for such a purpose.
"Why do you suppose Oldham is up there with this Saleratus Bill?" heasked Ware at length.
"Search me!"
"Is Bill good for anything beside gun work?"
"Well," said Ware, judicially, "he sure drinks without an effort."
"I don't believe Oldham is interested in the liquor famine," laughedBob. "Anything else?"
"They _may_ be after deer," acknowledged Ware, reluctantly, "though Ihate to think that rattlesnake is out for anything legitimate. I willsay he's a good hunter; and an A1 trailer."
"Oh, he's a good trailer, is he?" said Bob. "Well, I rather suspectedyou'd say that. Now I know why they're up there; they want to figure outfrom the signs we've left just what we've been up to."
"That's easy done," remarked Ware.
This explanation fitted. Bob had been in the Basin before, but on thebusiness of estimating government timber. Baker knew this. Now that theForest officer had gone in for a second time, it might be possible thathe was doing the same thing; or it might be equally possible that he wasengaged in an investigation of Baker's own property. This the power manhad decided to find out. Therefore he had sent in, with his land man, anindividual expert at deducing from the half-obliterated marks of humanoccupation the activities that had left them. That Oldham and hissinister companion had encountered the Forest men was a sheer accidentdue to miscalculation.
Having worked this out to his own satisfaction, Bob knew what next toexpect. Baker must interview him. Bob was sure the young man would takehis own time to the matter, for naturally it would not do to make thefact of such a meeting too public. Accordingly he submitted his reportto Thorne, and went on about his further investigations, certain thatsooner or later he would again see the prime mover of all these dubiousactivities.
He was not in the least surprised, therefore, to look up when riding oneday along the lonely and rugged trail that cuts across the lower canonof the River, to see Baker seated on the top of a round boulder. Theincongruity, however, brought a smile to his lips. The sight of theround, smooth face, the humorous eyes, and the stout, city-fed figure ofthis very urban individual on a rock in a howling figure of this veryurban individual on a rock in a howling wilderness, with the eternalmountains for a background, was inexpressibly comical.
"Hullo, merry sunshine!" called Baker, waving his hand as soon as he wascertain Bob had seen him. "Welcome to our thriving little hamlet."
"Hullo, Baker," said Bob; "what are you doing 'way off here?"
"Just drifting down the Grand Canal and listening to the gondoliers; andincidentally, waiting for you. Climb off your horse and come up here andget a tailor-made cigarette."
"I'm on my way over to Spruce Top," said Bob, "and I've got to keepmoving."
"Haste not, hump not, hustle not," said Baker, with the air of onequoting a hand-illuminated motto. "It will only get you somewher
e. Come,gentle stranger, I would converse with thee; and I've come a long way todo it."
"I live nearer home than this," grinned Bob.
"I wanted to see you in your office," grinned back Baker appreciatively,"and this is strictly business."
Bob dismounted, threw the reins over his horse's head, and ascended tothe top of the boulder.
"Fire ahead," said he; "I keep union hours."
[Footnote A: Pronounced Hone-kal.]
The Rules of the Game Page 74
