THE RAILROAD CONTRACT
"I wonder if Foxy Hildan is still around," said Dale, just before the
office was reached.
"He went up to the flume," said Andy Westmore. "I saw him just before
you fellows came up."
"Alone?" queried Owen.
"No, one of the foremen was with him."
When they entered the office they found Ulmer Balasco pacing the floor.
He gazed at them in wonder and scowled.
"It's no use of talking!" he cried, before anybody else could speak.
"I've made up my mind, and that settles it."
"We are not here to ask you to take us back," retorted Dale quickly.
"If I want work I shall apply to Mr. Webb here for it," and something
like a grin overspread his face.
"I don't know what you are talking about," returned Ulmer Balasco, in a
puzzled way.
"Mr. Balasco, we'll have to come to an understanding," said Owen,
quietly but firmly. "I've got something very disagreeable to tell you,
but that can't be helped. To come down to business, I received a
telegram from Mr. Wilbur this morning."
The lumber dealer started, and Dale imagined he clutched at the desk to
steady himself.
"A telegram?" he repeated slowly.
"Yes, sir. In that telegram he stated that the contract with the
railroad must be put through, and that work on the flume must stop."
"Indeed! And what have you to do with my business, I'd like to know."
"Nothing at all, sir, with your business; but everything with Mr.
Wilbur's business. He is coming out here as soon as he can, and in the
meantime he has appointed me his representative here."
"You!" almost screamed Ulmer Balasco.
"Yes, me. If you want to read the telegram, here it is."
The lumber dealer fairly snatched the slip from Owen's grasp, and
devoured its contents. His face grew pale, and it was impossible for
him to hold the sheet of paper still.
"So this is what you have been up to, eh?" he stammered. "Spies, just
as I suspected."
"We are not spies. Mr. Wilbur has been our friend, and when he asked
us to let him know how things were going here we merely wrote him the
truth."
"You told me it was on account of a French-Canadian----"
"So it was," put in Dale. "Mr. Wilbur has telegraphed to Mr. Rice about
that man, and the sheriff is to arrest him."
"And Mr. Rice is to assist me--in case I have any trouble here," put in
Owen significantly.
"Do you imagine I am going to abide by what that telegram says. Why,
it isn't worth the paper it's written on!" fumed Ulmer Balasco. "I am
master here; Wilbur has no authority whatever."
"That is a matter of opinion."
"No, it is a matter of fact--our agreement reads that way."
"I haven't seen the agreement, but no matter what it says, you have
no right to run this business so as to ruin Mr. Wilbur," went on Owen
warmly.
"Ruin him? Who says I am ruining him?"
"I do. You are doing your best to run behind on that railroad contract.
Instead of sending lumber down to the river, you are sending it up to
the flume, and you are not cutting half as much----"
"I won't listen!" shouted Ulmer Balasco. "I won't listen! I tell you I
am master here. If I want to finish the flume I'll do it."
"After the railroad contract is finished, not before," came stubbornly
from Owen. "All that lumber is going down to the Columbia just as fast
as the cars and the creek can carry it."
"You defy me?" and now Ulmer Balasco shook his fist in the young
lumberman's face.
[Illustration: Ulmer Balasco shook his fist in the young lumberman's
face.]
"Put down that hand, Mr. Balasco," said Owen, a strange gleam in his
eyes, and the hand fell in spite of the lumber dealer's effort to
threaten. "There is no need of our having a fight over this thing.
Either you'll agree to do as I say, or I shall call in the sheriff."
"The sheriff?"
"Exactly. Your business connection with Mr. Foxy Hildan is well known,
and does not in the least reflect to your credit. I don't know exactly
how far Mr. Wilbur wishes to go in the case, but if I were you I
wouldn't stir him up too much."
Ulmer Balasco's jaw dropped, and now he actually leaned against the
desk for support.
"I--I haven't had anything to do with Hildan," he stammered weakly.
"We can prove otherwise," put in Dale. "You and he are plotting to ruin
Mr. Wilbur, but the scheme won't work, and the best thing you can do is
to drop Foxy Hildan, and help finish that railroad contract on time."
"Didn't I say I was doing all I could on the contract?"
"And we know better."
"Mr. Balasco, are you going to recognize my authority or not?" demanded
Owen. "I'll give you ten minutes in which to make up your mind."
"And if I refuse what will you do next?"
"Telephone to Mr. Rice to bring up the sheriff." And as he spoke Owen
stepped up to the telephone booth, which stood between the outer and
the inner offices.
"No! no! stop!" cried Ulmer Balasco. "Don't do that! I tell you there
is some mistake." He breathed heavily. "Let me think it over. I'll give
you my answer to-morrow."
"No, sir, you'll give it to me now," came from Owen, and he made a move
as if to enter the telephone booth.
Rushing forward, Ulmer Balasco clutched him by the arm. "You must not
do it--it's outrageous!"
"Will you let me take charge of the work?"
"You don't understand what is to be done."
"Perhaps not. But Andy Westmore does, and I shall appoint him head
yardmaster for the time being."
"I can do the work right enough," came from Westmore.
"Are you in league with Webb?" demanded the lumber dealer.
"I'm willing to be, Mr. Balasco. And so are a lot of the other men."
"This is a--er--a revolution!"
"Oh, no; we only want to help fulfill that railroad contract," and a
twinkle shone in the old lumberman's black eyes.
"If you are all against me, I may as well resign at once," grumbled
Ulmer Balasco, and Owen saw that the fight was fast oozing out of
him. "But I must say, I didn't think Wilbur would play me such an
underhanded trick."
"It is no trick, Mr. Balasco. This trouble you brought on yourself.
Then I am to take charge?"
"What are you going to do?"
"Order every stick of timber in the yards and up at the flume down to
the river, and put all the men at work on the job. Then I'm going to
get more fellers and sawyers at Portland, if they are to be had, and
open up Yards 9 and 10, and have donkey No. 2 repaired."
"You can't get men this time of the year, and that engine isn't worth
fixing."
"I can try for the men, and Bruce Howard says the donkey can be patched
up with but little trouble--that the boiler is as good as new."
"Is that boy in this scheme too? He ought to have his walking papers!"
"He is a good workman, and shall stay. Now what do you say--is it peace
or war? Remember what I said before: you had better not stir up Mr.
Wilbur too much."
Ulmer Balasco took a turn up and down the office, then dropped heavily
into his chair.
"Go ahead and do as you please. If Wilbur wants to run the business he
can do it, and I'll get out as soon as I can. But remember one thing."
Ulmer Balasco pointed his long finger at Owen. "If you try to manage
things and fail on that contract, you and Wilbur will be responsible,
not myself."
"I want to see that contract," returned Owen calmly.
"I don't know as I've got to show it to you."
"As Mr. Wilbur's representative, I demand you do so." Owen pointed
to Westmore and Dale. "These are my witnesses that I now make such a
demand."
Muttering something under his breath, Ulmer Balasco flung himself from
his chair and walked to the office safe. In a moment more he had a
document out of a tin box.
"There you are," he growled. "Now I wash my hands of the whole affair.
If you fail, Wilbur shall stand the loss, not myself."
And so speaking, he shut the safe, banged shut his roller-top desk,
slapped his hat on his head, and strode from the office, leaving Owen
and the others masters of the field.
The reader can well imagine with what interest the young lumbermen
perused the document before them. It was a lengthy affair, and from it
they gleaned more information than expected.
"As Westmore says, the contract ends two weeks and a half from to-day,"
said Owen. "That gives us exactly fifteen days in which to get out the
balance of that timber. How many sticks still to cut, Westmore?"
"According to this paper about two hundred," answered the old
lumberman. "That is, if you're going to send down all the flume stuff
first."
"To be sure--everything must go that isn't sawed up."
"According to this document this company isn't a regular company at
all," said Dale, who had been reading with care. "It speaks of Ulmer
Balasco and of Jefferson Wilbur as if they were separate dealers
working together. But the forfeit was put up by Jefferson Wilbur. I
don't quite understand it."
"I think I know something about that," put in Westmore. "You see,
before Balasco and Wilbur joined forces the land up near the flume and
at Yards 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 belonged to Wilbur. The land down here,
along the creek and at Yards 1, 2, 3, and 4 belonged to somebody else.
Balasco bought them, and cut Wilbur off from both the creek and the
river. Then they compromised and patched up some sort of a partnership,
by which Balasco was to run things out here and get a percentage from
Wilbur on all lumber that went down the creek or the railroad. You see
the creek didn't quite reach Wilbur's claim, so he couldn't use it
without Balasco's permission."
"But the Wilbur claim is by far the best," said Dale. "This land down
here is mighty rocky, and the timber is all second-class."
"That's right. Years ago the lumbermen wouldn't touch this timber at
all. Some prospectors thought they'd find gold or silver here, or some
other metals, but what they got wasn't worth trying for. I reckon
Balasco got this land for a song."