Gunsight Pass: How Oil Came to the Cattle Country and Brought a New West

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Gunsight Pass: How Oil Came to the Cattle Country and Brought a New West Page 28

by William MacLeod Raine


  CHAPTER XXVIII

  DAVE MEETS A FINANCIER

  On more careful consideration Crawford and Sanders decided against tryingto float the Jackpot with local money except by the sale of enough stockto keep going until the company's affairs could be put on a substantialbasis. To apply to the Malapi bank for a loan would be to expose theirfinancial condition to Steelman, and it was certain that he would permitno accommodation except upon terms that would make it possible to wreckthe company.

  "I'm takin' the train for Denver to-morrow, Dave," the older man said."You stay here for two-three days and sell enough stock to keep us offthe rocks, then you hot-foot it for Denver too. By the time you get thereI'll have it all fixed up with the Governor about a pardon."

  Dave found no difficulty in disposing of a limited amount of stock inMalapi at a good price. This done, he took the stage for the junction andfollowed Crawford to Denver. An unobtrusive little man with large whiteteeth showing stood in line behind him at the ticket window. Hisdestination also, it appeared, was the Colorado capital.

  If Dave had been a believer in fairy tales he might have thought himselfthe hero of one. A few days earlier he had come to Malapi on this sametrain, in a day coach, poorly dressed, with no job and no prospects inlife. He had been poor, discredited, a convict on parole. Now he woregood clothes, traveled in a Pullman, ate in the diner, was a man ofconsequence, and, at least on paper, was on the road to wealth. He wouldput up at the Albany instead of a cheap rooming-house, and he would meeton legitimate business some of the big financial men of the West. Thething was hardly thinkable, yet a turn of the wheel of fortune had doneit for him in an hour.

  The position in which Sanders found himself was possible only becauseCrawford was himself a financial babe in the woods. He had borrowed largesums of money often, but always from men who trusted him and held hisword as better security than collateral. The cattleman was of theoutdoors type to whom the letter of the law means little. A debt was adebt, and a piece of paper with his name on it did not make payment anymore obligatory. If he had known more about capital and its methods offinding an outlet, he would never have sent so unsophisticated a man asDave Sanders on such a mission.

  For Dave, too, was a child in the business world. He knew nothing ofthe inside deals by which industrial enterprises are underwritten andcorporations managed. It was, he supposed, sufficient for his purposethat the company for which he wanted backing was sure to pay largedividends when properly put on its feet.

  But Dave had assets of value even for such a task. He had a single-trackmind. He was determined even to obstinacy. He thought straight, and sodirectly that he could walk through subtleties without knowing theyexisted.

  When he reached Denver he discovered that Crawford had followed theGovernor to the western part of the State, where that official had goneto open a sectional fair. Sanders had no credentials except a letter ofintroduction to the manager of the stockyards.

  "What can I do for you?" asked that gentleman. He was quite willing toexert himself moderately as a favor to Emerson Crawford, vice-presidentof the American Live Stock Association.

  "I want to meet Horace Graham."

  "I can give you a note of introduction to him. You'll probably have toget an appointment with him through his secretary. He's a tremendouslybusy man."

  Dave's talk with the great man's secretary over the telephone was notsatisfactory. Mr. Graham, he learned, had every moment full for the nexttwo days, after which he would leave for a business trip to the East.

  There were other wealthy men in Denver who might be induced to financethe Jackpot, but Dave intended to see Graham first. The big railroadbuilder was a fighter. He was hammering through, in spite of heavyopposition from trans-continental lines, a short cut across the RockyMountains from Denver. He was a pioneer, one who would take a chanceon a good thing in the plunging, Western way. In his rugged, clean-cutcharacter was much that appealed to the managers of the Jackpot.

  Sanders called at the financier's office and sent in his card by theyouthful Cerberus who kept watch at the gate. The card got no fartherthan the great man's private secretary.

  After a wait of more than an hour Dave made overtures to the boy. Adollar passed from him to the youth and established a friendly relation.

  "What's the best way to reach Mr. Graham, son? I've got importantbusiness that won't wait."

  "Dunno. He's awful busy. You ain't got no appointment."

  "Can you get a note to him? I've got a five-dollar bill for you if youcan."

  "I'll take a whirl at it. Jus' 'fore he goes to lunch."

  Dave penciled a line on a card.

  If you are not too busy to make $100,000 to-day you had better see me.

  He signed his name.

  Ten minutes later the office boy caught Graham as he rose to leave forlunch. The big man read the note.

  "What kind of looking fellow is he?" he asked the boy.

  "Kinda solemn-lookin' guy, sir." The boy remembered the dollar receivedon account and the five dollars on the horizon. "Big, straight-standin',honest fellow. From Arizona or Texas, mebbe. Looked good to me."

  The financier frowned down at the note in doubt, twisting it in hisfingers. A dozen times a week his privacy was assailed by some crazyinventor or crook promoter. He remembered that he had had a letter fromsome one about this man. Something of strength in the chirography of thenote in his hand and something of simple directness in the wordingdecided him to give an interview.

  "Show him in," he said abruptly, and while he waited in the office ratedhimself for his folly in wasting time.

  Underneath bushy brows steel-gray eyes took Dave in shrewdly.

  "Well, what is it?" snapped the millionaire.

  "The new gusher in the Malapi pool," answered Sanders at once, and hisgaze was as steady as that of the big state-builder.

  "You represent the parties that own it?"

  "Yes."

  "And you want?"

  "Financial backing to put it on its feet until we can market theproduct."

  "Why don't you work through your local bank?"

  "Another oil man, an enemy of our company, controls the Malapi bank."

  Graham fired question after question at him, crisply, abruptly, andSanders gave him back straight, short answers.

  "Sit down," ordered the railroad builder, resuming his own seat. "Tell methe whole story of the company."

  Dave told it, and in the telling he found it necessary to sketch theCrawford-Steelman feud. He brought himself into the narrative as littleas possible, but the grizzled millionaire drew enough from him to setGraham's eye to sparkling.

  "Come back to-morrow at noon," decided the great man. "I'll let you knowmy decision then."

  The young man knew he was dismissed, but he left the office elated.Graham had been favorably impressed. He liked the proposition, believedin its legitimacy and its possibilities. Dave felt sure he would send anexpert to Malapi with him to report on it as an investment. If so, hewould almost certainly agree to put money in it.

  A man with prominent white front teeth had followed Dave to the office ofHorace Graham, had seen him enter, and later had seen him come out with alook on his face that told of victory. The man tried to get admittance tothe financier and failed. He went back to his hotel and wrote a shortletter which he signed with a fictitious name. This he sent by specialdelivery to Graham. The letter was brief and to the point. It said:

  Don't do business with David Sanders without investigating his record. Heis a horsethief and a convicted murderer. Some months ago he was paroledfrom the penitentiary at Canon City and since then has been in severalshooting scrapes. He was accused of robbing a stage and murdering thedriver less than a week ago.

  Graham read the letter and called in his private secretary. "McMurray,get Canon City on the 'phone and find out if a man called David Sanderswas released from the penitentiary there lately. If so, what was hein for? Describe the man to the warden: under twenty-five, tall, straight
as an Indian, strongly built, looks at you level and steady, brown hair,steel-blue eyes. Do it now."

  Before he left the office that afternoon Graham had before him atypewritten memorandum from his secretary covering the case of DavidSanders.

 

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