Reedy Jenkins lighted a very good cigar and sat studying Rogeen with a
leisurely air. Bob was a good salesman and began at once: "Understand
you have been buying up leases, and I came up to sell you some farm
machinery."
Reedy took the cigar from his wide mouth and laughed at the joke. "I
don't raise cotton, I leave that to Chinamen--I raise prices. I'm not
a farmer but a financier."
Then returning the cigar to the corner of his mouth he remarked with a
pink judicialness:
"I should say you have a way with the ladies."
Bob blushed. "I never discovered it, if I have."
"I have, myself." Reedy bit the end of his cigar and nodded with a
doggish appreciation of his own fascination. "But I'm too busy just
now to use it."
"Rogeen"--Reedy laid the smoking cigar on some papers on his desk and
faced Bob--"I've had my eye on you for some time. I am buying up
leases across the line. I need a good man to work over there. What is
Dayton paying you?"
"Twenty a week." Bob was surprised at the turn of the conversation.
"I'll give you a hundred and fifty a month to start, and there'll be a
fine chance for promotion."
"What am I to do?" inquired Bob.
"Here is the whole thing in an eggshell. No doubt you are acquainted
with the situation over the line. You know, excepting one or two big
concessions, no Americans own land on the Mexican side. The land is
all farmed under leases and sub-leases. If a Chink or a Jap or a
wandering American hayseed wants to open up a patch of the desert, he
takes a five-year lease. As it costs him from ten to twenty dollars an
acre to clear off the mesquite, level the sand hummocks, and get his
ditches ready for water, he pays only one dollar rent the first year,
two dollars the second, and so on.
"Now"--Reedy picked up his cigar, puffed a time or two, and looked
speculatively over Bob's head--"if a fellow wants to speculate on the
Mexican side, he doesn't deal in land; he buys and sells leases. That
is my business. Of course, once in a while I take over a crop that is
planted or partly raised, because I have to do it to get the lease.
But you can say on general principles I'm about as much interested in
farming as a ground hog is in Easter.
"The price of cotton has been low, and for various and sundry other
reasons"--Reedy squinted his large eyes a little mysteriously--"a lot
of the ranchers over there after getting their land in good shape have
got cold feet and are willing to sell leases that have three or four
years yet to run for nearly nothing.
"I'm acquiring a bunch of them and am going to make a fortune out of
them. One of these days the price of cotton will take a jump, and I'll
be subleasing ten thousand acres of land at ten dollars an acre that
cost me three.
"Now what I want you for"--he brought his attention down squarely to
Rogeen--"is to buy leases for me--I'll give you a list of what I want
and the prices I'll pay. If you get a lease for less, I'll give you
half the rake-off in addition to your wages."
Bob thought fast. This looked like a fine opportunity; perhaps he was
worth more as a buyer than as a salesman.
"I'll have a try at it," he said. "But I won't sign up for any length
of time until I see how it goes."
"That suits me," Reedy assented readily. His one fear had been that
Bob might want a term contract.
"I'll see Dayton," Bob arose, "and let you know how soon he can let me
off."
Dayton liked Bob and hated to lose him, but was one of those employers
who prefer to suffer some inconvenience or loss rather than stand in
the way of a young man's advancement.
"A hundred and fifty dollars a month is more than I can pay, Rogeen,"
he said. "You'd better take it. Begin at once. I'll get Jim Moody in
your place."
At one o'clock Bob was back at Jenkins' office and reported ready for
work.
Reedy reached in his desk for the map on which all the ranches below
the line were carefully marked.
"The ranches I want to get first are along the Dillenbeck Canal. It is
a private water system, and the water costs more; but the land is rich
enough to make up the difference.
"The first one I want you to tackle is here"--he made a cross with his
pencil--"Belongs to a little dried-up old geezer named Chandler. He is
ready to sell; talk to the girl. Five hundred is my top price for
their lease and equipment."
As Bob went down the outside stairway he passed a Mexican going up--a
Mexican with features that suggested some one of his immediate
forefathers was probably a Hebrew. Rogeen recognized him--his name was
Madrigal; and he remembered that someone had told him that the Mexican
was in the secret service over the line, or rather that he was an
unofficial bearer of official information from some shady Mexican
officials to some shady American concerns.
When the Mexican entered the office, Reedy got up and closed the door.
Then he took the map again from a drawer and opened it out on the desk.
"I'll get Benson's lease this week." Reedy put his pencil on the Red
Butte Ranch. "And these," he pointed to smaller squares along the
Dillenbeck Canal, "are the ones I have marked for early annexation.
How many of them have you seen?"
"Thes, and thes, and thes." Madrigal pointed off three ranches.
"I've sent the new man down to see Chandler," said Reedy. "He's the
sort that can win over that girl. I must have that ranch. It is one
of the best of the small ranches."
"_Si, si._" Madrigal grinned, and smoothed up his black pompadoured
hair. "Eet will be easy. I gave them big scare about the duty on
cotton next fall."
"And then my friend who manages the Dillenbeck system gave them another
about the price of water this summer," smiled Reedy. "But"--he
frowned--"if the girl should continue obstinate, and they refuse to
sell?"
"Then I'll attend to the senorita"--the Mexican put his hand on his
heart and bowed gallantly--"the ladies are easy for Senor Madrigal."
"Yes," said Reedy, shutting his wide mouth determinedly, "and if he
fails, I'll 'tend to Rogeen."