"Three-fourths payment for the sections of railroad land included in my ranch, based on a valuation of two dollars and a half per acre.You can have the balance in sixty-day notes."Ruggles shook his head, drawing hastily back from the check as though it carried contamination.
"I can't touch it," he declared."I've no authority to sell to you yet.""I don't understand you people," exclaimed Annixter."I offered to buy of you the same way four years ago and you sang the same song.Why, it isn't business.You lose the interest on your money.Seven per cent.of that capital for four years--you can figure it out.It's big money.""Well, then, I don't see why you're so keen on parting with it.
You can get seven per cent.the same as us.""I want to own my own land," returned Annixter."I want to feel that every lump of dirt inside my fence is my personal property.
Why, the very house I live in now--the ranch house--stands on railroad ground.""But, you've an option"
"I tell you I don't want your cursed option.I want ownership;and it's the same with Magnus Derrick and old Broderson and Osterman and all the ranchers of the county.We want to own our land, want to feel we can do as we blame please with it.Suppose I should want to sell Quien Sabe.I can't sell it as a whole till I've bought of you.I can't give anybody a clear title.
The land has doubled in value ten times over again since I came in on it and improved it.It's worth easily twenty an acre now.
But I can't take advantage of that rise in value so long as you won't sell, so long as I don't own it.You're blocking me.""But, according to you, the railroad can't take advantage of the rise in any case.According to you, you can sell for twenty dollars, but we can only get two and a half.""Who made it worth twenty?" cried Annixter."I've improved it up to that figure.Genslinger seems to have that idea in his nut, too.Do you people think you can hold that land, untaxed, for speculative purposes until it goes up to thirty dollars and then sell out to some one else--sell it over our heads?You and Genslinger weren't in office when those contracts were drawn.
You ask your boss, you ask S.Behrman, he knows.The General Office is pledged to sell to us in preference to any one else, for two and a half.""Well," observed Ruggles decidedly, tapping the end of his pencil on his desk and leaning forward to emphasise his words, "we're not selling NOW.That's said and signed, Mr.Annixter.""Why not? Come, spit it out.What's the bunco game this time?""Because we're not ready.Here's your check.""You won't take it?"
"No."
"I'll make it a cash payment, money down--the whole of it--payable to Cyrus Blakelee Ruggles, for the P.and S.W.""No."
"Third and last time."
"No."
"Oh, go to the devil!"
"I don't like your tone, Mr.Annixter," returned Ruggles, flushing angrily."I don't give a curse whether you like it or not," retorted Annixter, rising and thrusting the check into his pocket, "but never you mind, Mr.Ruggles, you and S.Behrman and Genslinger and Shelgrim and the whole gang of thieves of you--you'll wake this State of California up some of these days by going just one little bit too far, and there'll be an election of Railroad Commissioners of, by, and for the people, that'll get a twist of you, my bunco-steering friend--you and your backers and cappers and swindlers and thimble-riggers, and smash you, lock, stock, and barrel.That's my tip to you and be damned to you, Mr.Cyrus Blackleg Ruggles."Annixter stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and Ruggles, trembling with anger, turned to his desk and to the blotting pad written all over with the words LANDS, TWENTYDOLLARS, TWO AND A HALF, OPTION, and, over and over again, with great swelling curves and flourishes, RAILROAD, RAILROAD, RAILROAD.
But as Annixter passed into the outside office, on the other side of the wire partition he noted the figure of a man at the counter in conversation with one of the clerks.There was something familiar to Annixter's eye about the man's heavy built frame, his great shoulders and massive back, and as he spoke to the clerk in a tremendous, rumbling voice, Annixter promptly recognised Dyke.
There was a meeting.Annixter liked Dyke, as did every one else in and about Bonneville.He paused now to shake hands with the discharged engineer and to ask about his little daughter, Sidney, to whom he knew Dyke was devotedly attached.
"Smartest little tad in Tulare County," asserted Dyke."She's getting prettier every day, Mr.Annixter.THERE'S a little tad that was just born to be a lady.Can recite the whole of 'Snow Bound' without ever stopping.You don't believe that, maybe, hey? Well, it's true.She'll be just old enough to enter the Seminary up at Marysville next winter, and if my hop business pays two per cent.on the investment, there's where she's going to go.""How's it coming on?" inquired Annixter.
"The hop ranch?Prime.I've about got the land in shape, and I've engaged a foreman who knows all about hops.I've been in luck.Everybody will go into the business next year when they see hops go to a dollar, and they'll overstock the market and bust the price.But I'm going to get the cream of it now.I say two per cent.Why, Lord love you, it will pay a good deal more than that.It's got to.It's cost more than I figured to start the thing, so, perhaps, I may have to borrow somewheres; but then on such a sure game as this--and I do want to make something out of that little tad of mine.""Through here?" inquired Annixter, making ready to move off.
"In just a minute," answered Dyke."Wait for me and I'll walk down the street with you."Annixter grumbled that he was in a hurry, but waited, nevertheless, while Dyke again approached the clerk.
