The Homesteaders Part 20

At that moment a man in a pepper-and-salt suit went by the door.

"'Scuse me a minute," said the dealer, rushing to the door and sending a shrill whistle down the street. The man in the pepper-and-salt turned, and the dealer beckoned him into the little office.

"You know that five-thousand-acre block you bought last week," he said in a low voice, but loud enough to be heard by the Harrises.

"Bought it at six dollars, didn't you? Well, I can give you seven to-day, for a quick sale."

"Couldn't think of it, my dear fellow," protested the lucky buyer. "I simply couldn't think of it."

"Couldn't think of making five thousand dollars in a week? It don't look too bad to a working man like me."

"But it's nowhere near the value of the land. Why, they're selling stuff in Illinois today that ain't to be compared with it at a hundred and fifty dollars an acre. It's only a question of time until this is as much. You've got better land here, and better climate, and you're a thousand miles nearer the Pacific Ocean, that's going to carry the commerce of the future. Seven dollars? It's an insult to Canada to mention such a price."

"Well, say," continued the real estate man, in a still more confidential tone, "I was allowing myself a little margin on the deal, even at seven dollars. But I had a man in here a few minutes ago that'll buy that block at eight-fifty. I'll pay you eight dollars net to put it through."

"Sorry, but he'll have to get down deeper than that if he wants it.

Tell him I might consider ten dollars, but mind, I ain't making any promise." And the man in the pepper-and-salt suit continued his course down the street, just the same as if he were not making five thousand dollars a week.

"Big capitalist from New York, that fellow," explained the dealer.

"Simply coining money up here, and always salting it into more land."

The incident left a deep impression on the Harrises. They did not know, of course, that the man in the pepper-and-salt suit always went by the door when likely-looking strangers were in, and that he always refused a profit of ten thousand dollars as a matter of little consequence--except for its influence on the unsuspecting party of the third part.

CHAPTER XV

THE LURE OF EASY MONEY

In the afternoon Gardiner and Riles drove into town and met the Harrises in the waiting-room of the hotel. Gardiner's greeting was friendly, but not over-familiar, as became a man who had recently suffered some reflection on his character. He shook Harris and Allan by the hand, inquired after the cattle and the crops, but discreetly avoided family matters, having learned from Riles that all had not been going smoothly in their domestic affairs. Gardiner knew a little room at the back of the bar, to which he escorted his guests. Having ordered a bottle and gla.s.ses on the table, he turned the key in the door.

"You can't be too careful," he explained. "You know, the walls have ears, and if it gets out that this coal mine can be picked up at the price we have on it, it will be taken before night. I understand your money is not here yet, Mr. Harris?"

"No. Not started, I guess. The fact is, I haven't sold the farm."

"Well, I don't want to hurry you, but we've got to act quickly, or not at all. Of course, we don't figure on taking any chances. Our idea is to turn the property over at once, at a good profit. That's the way you feel about it too, isn't it?"

"I'm not a coal miner."

"Exactly. Neither are the men who own most of the mines of this country. There comes a time, Mr. Harris, when we realize that we don't have to get down with pick and shovel to make ourselves some money--in fact, the man with pick and shovel hasn't time to make any real money. I am glad you feel like I do about it, for I have already taken the liberty of putting the proposition up to a New York syndicate."

"You mean if we don't come through, they will?"

"No, I mean that we'll come through--and they'll come after us. My idea is not to take any chances, but to sell the property, or as good as sell it, before we buy it. So I sent a Government report on it to this syndicate, as I heard they were looking out for coal lands in the West, and I just took the liberty of offering it to them for a cool quarter of a million, and gave them until to-night to accept or refuse, by wire. I'm a little anxious for an answer, although if they don't take it others will. You see, the old fellow that owns it simply hasn't any idea what it's worth. He has lived in the hills until he looks like one of 'em, and a satchelful of money in real bills will simply dazzle him. A cheque wouldn't serve the purpose; he'd be suspicious of it, and he'd come down to investigate, and someone would be sure to crimp our deal."

"But what is your plan for the deal, Mr. Gardiner?" asked Harris. "We can't go into the mountains with a load of bills and buy a mine like a man might buy a steer. There'll have to be papers, t.i.tles, and such things, I suppose, to make it right with us and with the Government."

"Of course," Gardiner agreed. "We will take the money with us, but we won't give it to him until we get the papers. We'll just let him see it--nibble it a little, if you like--and then we'll lead him into town with it, like you lead a horse with oats. The sight of so much money will keep him coming our way when nothing else would. And we'll slip him a hundred or two, and get a little receipt for it, just to prevent him changing his mind if he should be so disposed."

"And suppose I don't like the look of the mine when I see it?"

"Then you bring your money back down with you and put it into farm lands, or anything else that takes your fancy. After you look it over, if you don't want to go in on it, Mr. Harris, perhaps Riles and I can raise enough ourselves to swing the deal, but you see we thought of you from the first, and we will stay with our original plan until you have a chance to decide one way or another."

"Well, that sounds fair," said Allan, and his father nodded. "But we haven't sold the farm, and until we do I guess there isn't much money in sight."

"Bradshaw'll sell the farm quick enough if I send him word," his father a.s.sured him. "He may not get it all in money, but he'll get a good part of it, and he has ways o' raisin' the balance so long's the security is good. I've half a mind t' wire him t' close 'er out."

At this moment there came a knock on the door, and a boy presented a telegram for Gardiner. He opened it, read it, and emitted a whoop like a wild Indian. "They're coming through," he shouted, "coming through! How does half of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars look to you, Mr. Harris?"

Harris reached out eagerly for the telegram, while Allan, his arm thrown over his father's shoulder, read it in boyish excitement:

"If investigation confirms Government reports we will pay two hundred fifty thousand. Our representative leaves at once for personal interview."

The name at the end of the telegram was unknown to either Harris or his son, but Gardiner a.s.sured them it was one to conjure with in the financial world. Riles' excitement was scarcely less than Allan's.

Gardiner choked a flood of questions on his lips with a quick imperative glance. Even Riles did not know that the telegram had been written a few doors down the street by a stoutish man in a pepper-and-salt suit.

"I'll take a chance," said Harris, at last. "I'll take a chance."

"Chance nothing!" interjected Gardiner, with momentary abruptness.

"It was a chance a minute ago; it's a certainty now. It's the cinch of a lifetime."

"Where's some paper?" asked Allan. "Let's get a telegram away right off."

Gardiner produced a notebook and, at Harris's dictation, drafted a telegram to Bradshaw, directing him to dispose of the farm at once along the lines of the instructions already given him. He was to cash the agreement and wire the proceeds to Harris.

Then followed long anxious days. Fortune seemed to hang on Bradshaw's success in making an immediate sale of the farm. It was a large order, and yet Harris felt confident a buyer would be found. The price asked was not unreasonable, especially when it was remembered that the crop would go to the purchaser, and was now almost ready for the binder. Bradshaw was in constant touch with well-to-do farmers from the South who were on the look-out for land, and his own banking facilities would enable him to forward the cash as soon as a sale was a.s.sured, without waiting for actual payment by the purchaser. So Harris was confident in the midst of his anxiety.

A gentleman's agreement had been made with Gardiner and Riles that not a word was to be said concerning their investment until it was a completed fact. Gardiner dropped in occasionally to learn if any word had come from Plainville, but it was not until the afternoon of the fourth day that the fateful yellow envelope was handed in at the hotel. As it happened, Gardiner and Riles were present at the moment.

They slipped into the back room and waited in a fever of expectation for Harris to announce the contents.

Harris and Allan read the message twice before speaking; then Allan repeated it aloud:

"Twenty thousand dollars proceeds sale goes forward by wire your bank. Correspondence follows. Will explain failure to get price asked.

"BRADSHAW."

Harris was torn between emotions, and his face worked with unwonted nervousness as he struggled with them. That Bradshaw should have sold the farm for half the price he had stipulated seemed incredible. It was robbery; it was a breach of trust of the most despicable nature.

On the other hand, if the amount available would enable them to buy the mine, the huge profit a.s.sured from that investment would much more than offset the loss on the farm. Gardiner and Riles, too, were visibly downcast when they heard the amount, but Gardiner promptly grappled with the situation.

"It's less than we figured on," he said, "but perhaps we can get through still. The thing to do is to get out to the mine at once with this money. It will be sufficient to prove the genuineness of our intentions, and induce him into town. Then Riles can put up some and I can put up some, and that, with the twenty thousand, should hold the deal until Riles can realize on his farm. Within a very short time we can turn the whole thing over to the New Yorkers, and take in the profits."

"Say, Gardiner," said Allan, speaking as one who had been struck by a new and important thought. "Where do you come in on this deal? Is your old gink up in the hills coming through for half?"