Bob's first interest was naturally to examine these documents. He found
them, as Oldham had said, copies whose accuracy was attested by the
copyist before a notary. They divided themselves into two classes. The
first traced the titles by which many small holdings had come into the
hands of the corporation known as the Wolverine Company. The second
seemed to be some sort of finding by an investigating commission. This
latter was in the way of explanation of the title records, so that by
referring from one to the other, Bob was able to trace out the process
by which the land had been acquired. This had been by "colonizing," as
it was called. According to Federal law, one man could take up but one
hundred and sixty acres of government land. It had, therefore, been the
practice to furnish citizens with the necessary capital so to do; after
which these citizens transferred their land to the parent company. This
was, of course, a direct evasion of the law; as direct an evasion as
Baker's use of the mineral lands act.
For a time Bob was unable to collect his reasoning powers adequately to
confront this new fact. His thoughts were in a whirl. The only thing
that stood out clearly was the difference in the two cases. He knew
perfectly that after Baker's effort to lift bodily from the public
domain a large block of its wealth every decent citizen should cry,
"Stop thief!" Instinctively he felt, though as yet he could not analyze
the reasons for so feeling, that to deprive the Wolverine Company of its
holdings would work a crying injustice. Yet, to all intents and
purposes, apparently, the cases were on all fours. Both Welton and
Baker had taken advantage of a technicality.
When Bob began to think more clearly, he at first laid this difference
to a personal liking, and was inclined to blame himself for letting his
affections cloud his sense of justice. Baker was companionable, jolly,
but at the same time was shrewd, cold, calculating and unscrupulous in
business. He could be as hard as nails. Welton, on the other hand, while
possessing all of Baker's admirable and robust qualities, had with them
an endearing and honest bigness of purpose, limited only--though
decidedly--by his point of view and the bounds of his practical
education. Baker would steal land without compunction; Welton would take
land illegally without thought of the illegality, only because everybody
else did it the same way.
But should the mere fact of personality make any difference in the
enforcing of laws? That one man was amiable and the other not so amiable
had nothing to do with eternal justice. If Bob were to fulfil his duty
only against those he disliked, and in favour of his friends, he had
indeed slipped back to the old days of henchman politics from which the
nation was slowly struggling. He reared his head at this thought. Surely
he was man enough to sink private affairs in the face of a stern public
duty!
This determined, Bob thought the question settled. After a few minutes,
it returned as full of interrogation points as ever. Leaving Baker and
Welton entirely out of the question, the two cases still drew apart. One
was just, the other unjust. Why? On the answer depended the peace of
Bob's conscience. Of course he would resign rather than be forced to
prosecute Welton. That was understood, and Bob resolutely postponed
contemplation of the necessity. He loved this life, this cause. It
opened out into wider and more beautiful vistas the further he
penetrated into it. He conceived it the only life for which he was
particularly fitted by temperament and inclination. To give it up would
be to cut himself off from all that he cared for most in active life;
and would be to cast him into the drudgery of new and uncongenial lines.
That sacrifice must be made. It's contemplation and complete realization
could wait. But a deeper necessity held Bob, the necessity of resolving
the question of equities which the accident of his personal knowledge of
Welton and Baker had evoked. He had to prove his instincts right or
wrong.
He was not quite ready to submit the matter officially, but he wished
very much to talk it over with some one. Glancing up he caught sight of
the glitter of silver and the satin sheen of a horse. Star was coming
down through the trees, resplendent in his silver and carved leather
trappings, glossy as a bird, stepping proudly and daintily under the
curbing of his heavy Spanish bit. In the saddle lounged the tall, homely
figure of old California John, clad in faded blue overalls, the brim of
his disreputable, ancient hat flopped down over his lean brown face, and
his kindly blue eyes. Bob signalled him.
"John!" he called, "come here! I want to talk with you!"
The stately, beautiful horse turned without any apparent guiding motion
from his master, stepped the intervening space and stopped. California
John swung from the saddle. Star, his head high, his nostril wide, his
eye fixed vaguely on some distant vision, stood like an image.
"I want a good talk with you," repeated Bob.
They sat on the same log whereon Oldham and Bob had conferred.
"John," said Bob, "Oldham has been here, and I don't know what to do."
California John listened without a single word of comment while Bob
detailed all the ins and outs of the situation. When he had finished,
the old man slowly drew forth his pipe, filled it, and lit it.
"Son," said he, "I'm an old man, and I've lived in this state since the
early gold days. That means I've seen a lot of things. In all that time
the two most valuable idees I've dug up are these: in the first place,
it don't never do to go off half-cock; and in the second place, if you
want to know about a thing, go to headquarters for it."
He removed his pipe and blew a cloud.
"Half of that's for me and the other half's for you," he resumed. "I
ain't going to give you my notions until I've thought them over a
little; that's for me. As for you, if I was you, I'd just amble over and
talk the whole matter over with Mr. Welton and see what he thinks about
his end of it."