Symes's towering figure seemed to crumple in the office chair.
Abe Tutts to whom he owed $2500 for hay and grain waved a genial hand as
he passed the door.
"How goes it?" he called.
"Great!" and the boastful reply sickened him.
_Great_--when he was ruined!
It was the sentence "Something wrong" which gave Symes that weak feeling
in his knees. To what did Mudge refer, to the stock and bondholders or
to the project and himself? Must he go about for the four days which
must intervene before a letter could reach him with that sinking
sensation in the pit of his stomach, that curious limpness of his spine?
He lived through it somehow without betraying himself and when Mudge's
letter came it read in part:
"Your theory regarding the extraction of funds from stockholders is all
right only it don't work. When I called a meeting and suggested that
they raise more money among themselves to relieve the present situation
and protect their interests, they cut me off at the pockets.
"That Fly-trap King of yours said, 'If that's all you got us together
for, Mudge, we might as well get to hell out of here because I, for one,
don't propose to put another cent into the proposition--"My Wife Won't
Let Me."'
"The air was so chilly I could see my own breath and my last winter's
chilblains began to hurt.
"'Gentlemen,' I said, 'I don't understand your attitude in this matter.
We've got to raise this money to save ourselves. The proposition is as
good as it ever was.'
"'We don't doubt that,' says Prescott in that infernally quiet way of
his that makes your ears tingle, and a grin like a slice of watermelon
went round.
"I tell you, Symes, something or somebody has queered us here and if you
can find out who or what it is you can do more than I've been able to
do. Haven't you got some powerful enemy? Is there any weak spot in the
proposition? Rack your brains and let me know the result.
"These fellows don't seem worried and that's the strange part of it, for
I know that some of them have got in a whole lot more than they can
afford to lose.
"Whatever's at the bottom of it, it's mighty effective, for I'm up
against a blank wall. I've exhausted every resource and I can't raise a
dollar. If only we dared advertise the land and get some purchasers to
make part payments down it would keep things moving for a while, but I
suppose this is out of the question."
Was it? Symes laid the letter down. It was against the law to sell land
before the water was actually upon it, but was it out of the question?
In his desperation Symes decided that it was not.
Casually imparting the information to the Crowheart _Courier_ that he
was going out to meet a party of millionaires who were anxious to
invest, Symes packed his suitcase and arrived in the State Capital as
soon as an express train could get him there.
When he appeared before the State Land Board the arguments he used to
that body never were made public, but they were sufficiently convincing
to enable him to send a guarded telegram to Mudge that night telling him
to prepare additional literature and commence a campaign of
advertisement. Also to arrange with the railroad for a Homeseekers'
Excursion at as early a date as possible.
The telegram restored Mudge's faith in Symes, revived his waning
enthusiasm and courage. He composed a pamphlet for distribution among
Eastern and Middle West farmers, from which he quoted extracts to his
wife in the middle of the night, awakening her for that purpose.
"Extend a hand to Nature and she meets you with outstretched arms!
Tickle the soil and it laughs gold!"
"Wouldn't that start a man-milliner to raising alfalfa?" demanded Mudge
upon such occasions.
"Where the clouds never lower and the sun shines always. Where the
perfumed zephyrs fan the cheeks of men and brothers. The Perfect Climate
found at last! Crowheart the Gem of the Rockies! within easy reach. Buy
a ticket for $29.50 and breathe the Elixir of Life while you look over
our unequalled proposition."
"That ought to catch all the lungers in the world," averred Mudge.
That the promoter's confidence in the merits of his pamphlet was
justified was soon evidenced by the flood of inquiries and requests for
additional information which came by mail while his office became a
mecca for the restless and the "land hungry" who read his vivid
description of the great Symes irrigation project which was making the
desert bloom like the rose.
They came in droves to ask questions and to stare at the twenty-pound
beet which sat conspicuously upon Mudge's desk and their jaws dropped
when he explained carelessly--
"A runt from under the Mormon ditch; we raise bigger on _our_ land."
They studied the map of the neatly plotted townsite of Symes with its
substantial bank building, its park, its boulevards, its public school
building and band-stand.
"That's goin' to be some town," Mudge told each with a confidential air,
"and you've got a chance to make something if you gobble up a corner lot
or two before prices soar. Quick turns while the boom is on is the way
to do it in the West."
Mudge believed all that he said, because he believed in Symes; that is,
he was convinced that all would be as he represented as soon as Symes
could be provided with money to complete the project, and if he
permitted his imagination to take liberties with the truth, it was
solely because he felt that the end justified the means. He assured
himself that all would be forgotten and forgiven in the ultimate success
of the enterprise and so great was his faith in it and its efficient
management that his own money paid for the pamphlets and the half-page
newspaper advertisements which told the world of the Homeseekers'
Excursion to the great Symes Irrigation Project where the desert was
blooming like the rose. If at times there came to him, as there did to
Symes, chilling thoughts of the exact meaning of failure should their
plans miscarry, he did not allow them to long dampen his ardor.
"We'll put it through _somehow_!" he declared vehemently. "There'll be a
trainload of these Homeseekers, and, out of a bunch like that, surely
_some_ of 'em will stick even if it isn't--well--not quite exactly in
the shape they expect to find it. They'll see the merits of the
proposition and make allowances for my enthusiasm; and if we can work
this once we can work it again." Mudge insisted to himself resolutely,
"I'm not the man to be stumped by a few obstacles, I can't afford to be
identified with failures and we'll put this thing through if S. B. Mudge
goes broke trying."
The stock and bondholders had something of the attitude of blase
spectators at a circus, regarding Mudge's sensational efforts calmly,
without applause or protest. A curious attitude, Mudge thought, for
persons so vitally concerned, and there were times, after a chance
meeting with Prescott, for instance, when Mudge wondered if they really
were as indifferent as they seemed. That Prescott had an amazing
knowledge of the situation for one in a position to know so little was
evidenced by an occasional pertinent comment. But Mudge was too busy
getting his Homeseekers in line to attempt the solution of any mysteries
on the side.
In Crowheart the coming excursion of Homeseekers was the chief theme.
Its citizens were elated at the wide publicity which the Company's
advertising campaign was giving to the town, and increased deference to
Symes was the result, for the merchants of Crowheart made no secret of
the fact among themselves that without the payroll of the Symes
Irrigation Project real money would be uncommonly scarce, and should the
project fail--the remote possibility made them shudder. Gradually it had
dawned upon these venturesome pioneers from "way back East in Nebraska"
that the surrounding country had few if any resources and without the
opening of fresh territory Crowheart's future was one they preferred not
to contemplate.
If they wondered somewhat at the elasticity of the law, Symes's ability
to stretch it only demonstrated still further his power, his ability to
bend men and things to his iron will, and their awe of him increased
proportionately. To the isolated community of obscure persons Symes
seemed very nearly omnipotent. They had no criticism to make of the
law's adaptability to Symes's needs; it was enough for them that
Crowheart was in the limelight and the influx of settlers meant their
individual prosperity.
It soon became obvious from the sale of excursion tickets that the
Terriberry House would not be able to accommodate the Homeseekers.
"Not a carload but a trainload!" said Symes jubilantly to the editor of
the Crowheart _Courier_, and Sylvester dashed off a double leaded plea
to the first families of Crowheart to "throw open their homes" and do
their utmost to make the strangers feel that they would be received upon
terms of equality and find a welcome in their midst.
Crowheart's citizens responded magnificently to the appeal. The Percy
Parrotts threw open their three-roomed residence and made arrangements
to sleep in the hay, while their self-sacrificing example was quickly
followed by others. Neither the Cowboy Band nor the neighbors knew
either rest or sleep until they had mastered a Sousa March, while Mrs.
Tutts showed her public spirit by rehearsing Crowheart's talented
amateurs in an emergency performance of the "Lady of Lyons" for the
strangers' evening entertainment.
Every available vehicle was engaged by Symes to convey the excursionists
to the project and a committee chosen to meet them on the cinders at the
station, himself to greet them in a few neat words.
With so much upon his mind, so many responsibilities upon his shoulders,
it is small wonder that the little formality of payday should slip by
without being properly observed. When it was called to his attention
his explanation sounded reasonable enough.
"I'm just so busy now, boys, that I haven't the time to attend to your
checks. But your money's as safe as though it was in the Bank of
England, and if you'll oblige me by waiting until this excursion is over
I'll greatly appreciate it."
"Sure!" they replied heartily, and indeed it was a pleasure to do Andy
P. Symes a favor when he asked it in his big, genial voice. "Take your
time, Mr. Symes, we are in no rush." In his magnetic presence they had
quite forgotten that they were in a rush; besides, it was plain that he
had more than one man should be expected to attend to, and no one
dreamed that a dollar dropped in the treasury would have echoed like a
rock falling in a well.
Like Mudge, Symes was convinced that out of a trainload of Homeseekers
some of them would "stick." The inducement to do so was the privilege of
the first choice of the 160-acre tracts--for a substantial deposit.
But those who did not stick?--those who were strongly under the
impression that the water was already flowing through the ditch or that
it was so near completion that it would do so shortly--would they
be--irritated? As the day of the excursion approached the disquieting
thought came with increasing frequency to Symes that they _would_
be--irritated.