As they rose, he lifted his check book with studied obviousness. "If
those Socialists make trouble, find out what they want. If another
advertisement will handle them----" He did not end the sentence.
He stared after their retreating figures. The spokesmen of labor! A herd
of dumb, worthless brutes, led by pig-eyed greed! Promising material to
have any say as to the destinies of a country!... Well, Pelham would
learn.
Paul had a busy month of it. The mining was beginning to pay at last.
Two hundred more convicts, more than a hundred negro workers, had been
added to the force in the third ramp; its output had begun to exceed the
other two.
After he had purchased the ore lands lying on both sides of the former
holding, he called Sam Ross, Dudley Randolph, and the Birrell-Florence
representatives into conference. Randolph was the only one who held out,
when a pool was proposed to cover prices and wages.
"I don't have trouble with my men, Judson; I don't want any. I'm with
you in theory, but I can't see any advantage to me in that proposition."
Paul then opened his alternate plan. The working out of the
details took two weeks, but the result was the incorporation of the
Birrell-Florence-Mountain Mining Company. Paul Judson's salary as
managing vice-president was fifty thousand, in addition to what the
dividends would bring.
He figured up the value of his stock. Unless it depreciated, he could
get out--now--with five million dollars! And this was only the mining
rights. He could afford to let Pelham play with a few fool notions, when
things broke this way!
On his next conference with the son over progress at the works,
well-planned hints gave Pelham the opening to learn of the invitation
from John Pooley, and the father's acceptance. "Of course, my opinions
don't go as far as yours----"
"I didn't expect that. But this _is_ great news! You'll come out for the
new bill, after all?"
"With necessary practical modifications. I'm studying it out now."