CHAPTER XXXII
DAVE BECOMES AN OFFICE MAN
From Graham came a wire a week after the return of the oil expert toDenver. It read:
Report satisfactory. Can you come at once and arrange with me plan oforganization?
Sanders was on the next train. He was still much needed at Malapi to lookafter getting supplies and machinery and to arrange for a wagon train ofoil teams, but he dropped or delegated this work for the more importantcall that had just come.
His contact with Graham uncovered a new side of the state builder, onethat was to impress him in all the big business men he met. They might bepleasant socially and bear him a friendly good-will, but when they met toarrange details of a financial plan they always wanted their pound offlesh. Graham drove a hard bargain with him. He tied the company fast bylegal control of its affairs until his debt was satisfied. He exacted abonus in the form of stock that fairly took the breath of the young manwith whom he was negotiating. Dave fought him round by round and foundthe great man smooth and impervious as polished agate.
Yet Dave liked him. When they met at lunch, as they did more than once,the grizzled Westerner who had driven a line of steel across almostimpassable mountain passes was simple and frank in talk. He had takena fancy to this young fellow, and he let him know it. Perhaps he foundsomething of his own engaging, dogged youth in the strong-jawedrange-rider.
"Does a financier always hogtie a proposition before he backs it?" Daveasked him once with a sardonic gleam in his eye.
"Always."
"No matter how much he trusts the people he's doing business with?"
"He binds them hard and fast just the same. It's the only way to do. Giveaway as much money as you want to, but when you loan money look afteryour security like a hawk."
"Even when you're dealing with friends?"
"Especially when you're dealing with friends," corrected the older man."Otherwise you're likely not to have your friends long."
"Don't believe I want to be a financier," decided Sanders.
"It takes the hot blood out of you," admitted Graham. "I'm not sure, if Ihad my life to live over again, knowing what I know now, that I wouldn'tchoose the outdoors like West and Crawford."
Sanders was very sure which choice he would like to make. He was atpresent embarked on the business of making money through oil, but someday he meant to go back to the serenity of a ranch. There were timeswhen he left the conferences with Graham or his lieutenants sick at heartbecause of the uphill battle he must fight to protect his associates.
From Denver he went East to negotiate for some oil tanks and materialwith which to construct reservoirs. His trip was a flying one. Heentrained for Malapi once more to look after the loose ends that had beenaccumulating locally in his absence. A road had to be built across thedesert. Contracts must be let for hauling away the crude oil. A hundreddetails waited his attention.
He worked day and night. Often he slept only a few hours. He grew lean inbody and curt of speech. Lines came into his face that had not been therebefore. But at his work apparently he was tireless as steel springs.
Meanwhile Brad Steelman moled to undermine the company. Dave's menfinished building a bridge across a gulch late one day. It was blownup into kindling wood by dynamite that night. Wagons broke downunexpectedly. Shipments of supplies failed to arrive. Engines weremysteriously smashed.
The sabotage was skillful. Steelman's agents left no evidence that couldbe used against them. More than one of them, Hart and Sanders agreed,were spies who had found employment with the Jackpot. One or two men weredischarged on suspicion, even though complete evidence against them waslacking.
The responsibility that had been thrust on Dave brought out in himunsuspected business capacity. During his prison days there had developedin him a quality of leadership. He had been more than once in charge of aroad-building gang of convicts and had found that men naturally turned tohim for guidance. But not until Crawford shifted to his shoulders theburdens of the Jackpot did he know that he had it in him to grapple withorganization on a fairly large scale.
He worked without nerves, day in, day out, concentrating in a way thatbrought results. He never let himself get impatient with details.Thoroughness had long since become the habit of his life. To this headded a sane common sense.
Jackpot Number Four came in a good well, though not a phenomenal onelike its predecessor. Number Five was already halfway down to the sands.Meanwhile the railroad crept nearer. Malapi was already talking of itsbig celebration when the first engine should come to town. Its councilhad voted to change the name of the place to Bonanza.
The tide was turning against Steelman. He was still a very rich man, buthe seemed no longer to be a lucky one. He brought in a dry well. Onanother location the cable had pulled out of the socket and a forty-footauger stem and bit lay at the bottom of a hole fifteen hundred feet deep.His best producer was beginning to cough a weak and intermittent floweven under steady pumping. And, to add to his troubles, a quiet littleman had dropped into town to investigate one of his companies. He was aGovernment agent, and the rumor was that he was gathering evidence.
Sanders met Thomas on the street. He had not seen him since theprospector had made his wild ride for safety with the two outlaws hardon his heels.
"Glad you made it, Mr. Thomas," said Dave. "Good bit of strategy. Whenthey reached the notch, Shorty and Doble never once looked to see if wewere around. They lit out after you on the jump. Did they come close togetting you?"
"It looked like bullets would be flyin'. I won't say who would 'a' gotwho if they had," he said modestly. "But I wasn't lookin' for no trouble.I don't aim to be one of these here fire-eaters, but I'll fight like awildcat when I got to." The prospector looked defiantly at Sanders,bristling like a bantam which has been challenged.
"We certainly owe you something for the way you drew the outlaws off ourtrail," Dave said gravely.
"Say, have you heard how the Government is gettin' after Steelman?He's a wily bird, old Brad is, but he slipped up when he sent out hisadvertisin' for the Great Mogul. A photographer faked a gusher for himand they sent it out on the circulars."
Sanders nodded, without comment.
"Steelman can make 'em flow, on paper anyhow," Thomas chortled. "But he'ssure in a kettle of hot water this time."
"Mr. Steelman is enterprising," Dave admitted dryly.
"Say, Mr. Sanders, have you heard what's become of Shorty and Doble?" theprospector asked, lapsing to ill-concealed anxiety. "I see the sheriffhas got a handbill out offerin' a reward for their arrest and conviction.You don't reckon those fellows would bear me any grudge, do you?"
"No. But I wouldn't travel in the hills alone if I were you. If youhappened to meet them they might make things unpleasant."
"They're both killers. I'm a peaceable citizen, as the fellow says. O'course if they crowd me to the wall--"
"They won't," Dave assured him.
He knew that the outlaws, if the chance ever came for them, would strikeat higher game than Thomas. They would try to get either Crawford orSanders himself. The treasurer of the Jackpot did not fool himself withany false promises of safety. The two men in the hills were desperatecharacters, game as any in the country, gun-fighters, and they owed bothhim and Crawford a debt they would spare no pains to settle in full. Someday there would come an hour of accounting.
Gunsight Pass: How Oil Came to the Cattle Country and Brought a New West Page 32