Читать книгу The Award of Justice; Or, Told in the Rockies: A Pen Picture of the West - Barbour Anna Maynard - Страница 14

For the next day or two, Houston saw very little of either Mr. Blaisdell or Morgan, as they spent most of their time at the mines, but his own work was greatly increased, as copies of mining reports regarding the Sunrise mine, and duplicate sets of statements of the assay values of samples of ore taken from its various shafts, were to be made out with the greatest care. There were tracings and blue prints to be made from the original plats, by which it was to be shown that the vein of the Sunrise mine was but an extension of that of the Morning Star, one of the famous North Star group of mines; and there were also very important and strictly confidential letters to be written, under Mr. Blaisdell’s directions, to the Silver City office, more particularly to Mr. Rivers, the secretary of the company, whom Houston had not yet seen.

The Sunrise mine which was suddenly looming up into such prominence, was one of which Houston had never heard, but judging from the rich samples of ore produced, and the testimony of experts and assayers, it seemed to be one of the most valuable properties in that locality; but to Houston, situated as he was, behind the scenes, it only afforded an additional glimpse of the business methods of the company.

As he still sat at his desk, having just completed his day’s work, Morgan came in and threw himself down heavily into a chair, taking his favorite attitude, with his feet crossed on the table, and his hands clasped behind his head.

“You look tired, Morgan,” commented Houston.

“I am tired,” he replied, “too tired to breathe if I wasn’t obliged to; this has been a hard day’s work, and if old Blaisdell sells that mine, as he expects to, he’ll have to divy up pretty liberally.”

Houston turned around facing Morgan, with a peculiar smile.

“The Sunrise mine seems to have developed wonderfully within the past few days,” he remarked quietly.

Morgan laughed; “You’d think so,” he replied, “if you could have seen it four days ago. There hasn’t been a day’s work done on it for over a year; some of it had caved in, and even the main shaft was pretty well filled up with rubbish. Now that’s all cleaned out, and the few places where there is any quantity of ore in sight show up to good advantage, and we’ve hauled eight or ten tons of ore from the Yankee Boy down onto the dump, so it makes a pretty respectable showing. Oh, the boss is a cuckoo for any job of that kind.”

“Does the mining company own the Yankee Boy?” asked Houston.

“No,” answered Morgan, “that whole group of mines is owned by a set of New Yorkers; this company out here is their agent, that’s all.”

“And New Yorkers are not supposed to know all the ins and outs of their western agent’s mining deals,” commented Houston.

“Well, I should say not! There’s a good many things going on that they are not supposed to know about, and that they wouldn’t be very likely to get onto, either, some of ’em, even if they were right on the ground. Some of those ducks are pretty green, and fellows like Blaisdell or Rivers can make them believe most anything. If Blaisdell was half as smart as he makes some of those eastern fellows think he is, he would have been a rich man before this.”

“Why,” said Houston, in surprise, “Blaisdell is quite well off, isn’t he?”

Morgan’s only answer was a significant shake of the head.

“What!” exclaimed Houston in astonishment.

“Really, he is not worth a dollar,” answered Morgan, “every nickle’s worth of property that he ever had, that he hasn’t lost outright, has been put into the hands of his wife, or his sons, or somebody or other, heaven knows who, I don’t, nor nobody else.”

“Well, I am surprised,” said Houston, “he seems shrewd and sharp in business matters, and I supposed he was a rich man. He must have made considerable money, what has become of it?”

Morgan shrugged his shoulders; “Have you seen old Rivers yet?” he inquired.

“The secretary? No, I’ve never met him.”

“Well,” continued Morgan, “you probably will, in a day or two, he’ll be likely to come up with the eastern party; and when you’ve seen him, you’ve seen the biggest rascal, and at the same time the slickest duck there is on this side of the divide, and I doubt if there’s any on the other side can beat him. Old Blaisdell’s pretty smooth, but he ain’t a circumstance to Rivers. Rivers will rob you of your last dollar, and make you think he’s your best friend all the time. Oh, he’s a lulu, and no mistake!”

Further conversation was prevented by the entrance of Mr. Blaisdell, with a fine lot of ore samples with their assay values attached, which he arranged on his desk, his thin lips drawn back meanwhile in his accustomed self-satisfied smile. When this was done, he turned to the young men.

“Well,” he began, with a low chuckle of delight, “I’ve got word my party is coming all right. Haight just got a telegram from Rivers, that Winters had wired him that he and his son and the expert would be in Silver City, on to-morrow’s train, so I will have to go back to the city to-night, to be in readiness to meet them. Let me see, this is Wednesday, they arrive Thursday; Morgan, set the men to work on that mine Friday morning; we will be up here in the course of the forenoon, you see that everything is in first-class order. Houston, are those statements and tracings all ready?”

“They are,” replied Houston.

“Very well, put them up as quick as you can, I’ll take them to the city with me, and the team will be here in half a minute; I want to catch that six o’clock train. I didn’t expect to have to go to-night, but that telegram has hurried up matters. Morgan, you keep everything straight to-morrow, and be ready for us Friday morning.”

“Shall I send a team down?” asked Morgan.

“No, no matter about that, I’ll take Joe Hunt’s team there at the Y, it will be a rather more stylish turnout than one of the mining teams. Everything is here O.K. I suppose,” as Houston handed him the papers he had requested, “all right, there’s my team; well, so long, boys, don’t get into any more fights while I’m gone,” and he was soon rattling down the canyon toward the Y, while Houston and Morgan began to make preparations for closing the office.

“Well,” said Morgan, as he stood looking out of the window, and waiting for Houston to put away his books and papers for the night, “I can just imagine the little scene that will be enacted down there at the main office to-morrow, it would be as good as a play just to watch it. There will be old Wilson, with his diamonds and palaver, expatiating on the country and the mines; and Blaisdell, with that dignified way of his, talking of nitrates and sulphides, and so many milligrams equaling so many grains troy, and so many gramestons in so many pounds avoirdupois, and all that razzle-dazzle, and Rivers, not saying much of anything, but smiling, and calculating how many thousands he is going to put in his own pockets.”

Houston laughed, and was about to reply, when Rutherford came in, as he often walked down to meet Houston and accompany him to the house.

“Come in, Ned,” said Houston, “you should have been here a minute ago; Morgan has been giving some verbal portraits of the mining company. Your descriptive powers are excellent, Morgan, and you seem to know these men pretty well.”

“Know them,” said Morgan, swinging himself astride a chair and folding his arms upon the back, while Rutherford perched upon a large writing table, and Houston leaned against his long desk, with his arms folded, “Know them, I should think I ought to. I worked in the Silver City office as bookkeeper for a year before coming out here, and six months of that time I boarded in Blaisdell’s family; and as his wife hates Rivers’ wife, and couldn’t say enough about her, I knew about as much of one family as the other before I came away.”

“Does Mr. Blaisdell try to impress his better half with a sense of his intellectual superiority, as he does the rest of his fellow mortals?” asked Rutherford.

“If he ever did,” answered Morgan, “he must have got bravely over it some time ago; she treats him with a contempt that would have cured him of that habit. I’ve sometimes thought that the reason he swells so much out among people is because he’s so unmercifully snubbed at home.”

“I see,” said Rutherford, “just a natural effort to keep his self-respect in equilibrium.”

“Has he many children?” inquired Houston.

“Well, no,” said Morgan, “not many, only fifteen.”

“Only fifteen!” said Houston, in astonishment, while Rutherford exclaimed, “Oh, come off now, you’re joking!”

“No joking about it,” said Morgan seriously, “I took the old man’s word for it. I tried several times to count ’em, but had to give it up, it seemed that every day I saw a new one. Some of ’em are as old as I; you see this is his third wife, and some of the children are older than she.”

“I think,” said Rutherford, “I’d like a wife younger than my children.”

“He seems to,” replied Morgan, “they’re as spooney as can be, when they’re not quarreling.”

“Oh, deliver me!” said Rutherford, “I don’t want to hear any more about them. How about that other man, Rivers? He hasn’t such a surplus of children and wives, has he?”

“Well,” said Morgan slowly, “I guess if his children could all be got together, there’d be more of ’em than of Blaisdell’s, and he has full as many wives, only, in his case, they are all living.”

“Great Scott!” said Rutherford, “is he a Mormon?”

Morgan shook his head, and Houston said:

“Morgan, I think in your efforts to be entertaining, you are drawing slightly on your imagination, thinking that we are fresh enough to believe anything you choose to tell us.”

“No, it’s all true, whether you believe it or not. That man left a wife and family of children somewhere in New York State, more than ten years ago, and ran away with another woman; they have five or six children, and here, about three years ago, since I came here, he got his divorce from the first woman, and married this one. Then he spent last winter in San Francisco, and it seems now, that he circulated around there under another name,–and his name is no more Rivers, than mine is Jenks,–and passed himself off for an unmarried man, and now there’s a woman there has entered suit against him, for breach of promise.”

“Well,” said Rutherford, descending from his elevated position, “I move that we adjourn to the boarding house at once; if I hear any more such stuff, I’ll lose my appetite.”

“The mystery to me is,” said Houston, when they were started on their way to the house, “how such a man is allowed to live and do business in a respectable community.”

“Oh,” said Morgan carelessly, “he isn’t any worse than the rest of ’em, only he’s a little more out and out with it; and the rest of ’em know it, and as long as they all live in glass houses, they don’t any of ’em want to throw any stones.”

“It cannot be quite as bad as that,” said Houston.

“Well, I’ve found ’em all about alike, men and women too, for that matter, though I believe you shut me off from expressing my views about women.”

“But you certainly would not include all women in such an assertion?” said Houston.

“I don’t know why not, as far as my experience goes, they’re all off the same piece.”

“Why, man,” said Houston indignantly, “what are you talking about? You had a mother once, you do not mean to traduce her memory?”

For a moment, Morgan was silent, then he replied in a tone that sounded very unlike his usual voice:

“Yes, I had a mother once, and that is what has made me what I am; sometime I will tell you about her.”

And nothing more was said until they reached the house.