The snow-storm detained Mr. Blaisdell in the city rather longer than
he intended, and Houston had improved the time in going over all the
old books and office records which were available.
The books of the company he could examine at his leisure, on some
pretext or other, in Morgan's presence, but his extra work, which had
occupied his evenings, consisted in going over the old letter files,
mining reports and assay statements, making copies of whatever he
found that would be of value to him later. He had found evidence of
fraudulent transactions in the books of the company, and of these he
had made careful memoranda, but so far, the greatest amount of
evidence which he had secured, had been discovered in the old letters
written by Mr. Blaisdell to other members of the company at Silver
City, and received by him in return. These were copied exactly into a
set of small books which he had brought for that purpose, and he had
also made tracings and blue print copies of plats and maps of the most
important mines, and of the plans of their underground workings.
What he now particularly desired was some turn of affairs that would
necessitate his visiting the mines, and give him an opportunity to
become familiar with their workings, and that, in some way, he could
gain access to the books and papers of the main office at Silver City,
as he would there find records of the business transacted directly
with the company in New York. He had taken the precaution to bring
with him copies of letters on file in the New York offices, but he now
felt that much of the most important evidence was contained in the
office at Silver City, and was the missing link which he would need
before going much farther, and as he sat at his desk one bright
morning, a few days after the storm, mentally reviewing the whole
situation, he was planning how he could best secure this also.
Morgan, still carrying a few scars, sat with his legs crossed on top
of his table, reading a newspaper, when the door opened, and Mr.
Blaisdell entered.
"Well, boys, good-morning," was his greeting, as he glanced quickly
around the office, and Morgan's feet suddenly descended to the floor.
"What's the matter with your eye, Morgan?"
"Oh, nothing, been sparring a little, that's all."
"Been down to the mines this morning?"
"No, sir, not yet; I thought maybe you'd be up and want to give some
directions before I went down."
"Very considerate!" remarked Mr. Blaisdell sarcastically, "you know I
would come to the mines myself, anyway, and could give directions
there just as well as here. Get ready to go down there with me, I'm
going in a few minutes."
Going over to Houston's desk, he glanced hastily over the books, gave
some instructions, and saying that he wished to see him later, went
out to join Morgan.
"Morgan, how did you get that eye?" he asked again.
"Oh, Houston and I had a little set-to the other day, and he hit me
pretty hard, that's all."
"What was it about?" demanded Mr. Blaisdell.
"Nothing much," answered Morgan, carelessly, "we had some words about
that girl of Maverick's; I guess he's a little stuck on her himself,
and was afraid I'd be in his way, or something of the kind; I got mad
and hit him, or tried to, and he gave me a knock-out."
"I was going to say that he doesn't look as though you had hit him
very hard," remarked Mr. Blaisdell dryly, and then continued, "Well, I
don't see the use of coming to blows over Maverick's girl, or any
other for that matter, they're not so scarce as all that. Jim's girl
has got a pretty face, but she isn't worth fighting about, that I can
see."
There were reasons for Mr. Blaisdell's superior indifference to Lyle's
attractions, as she had been compelled more than once, in a most
emphatic manner, to check attempts at undue familiarity on his part,
notwithstanding the fact that he was a much-married man, living with
his third wife, his table surrounded with "olive plants"--fifteen in
number--of all sizes and descriptions, and regarded in the bosom of
his family as a model husband and father.
Late in the afternoon, Mr. Blaisdell returned to the office, looking
very weary and somewhat worried. Morgan remained at the mines the rest
of the day. Mr. Blaisdell went over the books with Houston, and after
expressing considerable satisfaction at the work which he had
accomplished, he sat down by himself, and seemed lost in thought for
some time. At last he said:
"Mr. Houston, I've been thinking for some time that we need a little
extra help in the office at Silver City, and yet not enough that it
has seemed advisable to employ another bookkeeper. Our books there are
getting behind, and a little mixed, too, I'm afraid. Mr. Lewis, our
bookkeeper, is quite an old man, and he has charge of two or three
sets of books for the different companies, and it is not to be
wondered at if he occasionally gets a little confused; and it occurred
to me while sitting here, that perhaps you might be willing to come
down, for a day or two, and straighten out the books for us."
Houston seemed for a moment to be weighing the matter very deliberately.
"Of course I could do it," he replied, "but it would involve
considerable extra time and expense for me, and I would want extra
compensation."
"Oh, of course," responded Mr. Blaisdell, readily, "I understand that;
indeed, I was going to remark that you have already accomplished so
much work, and your methods seem to be so exact and, at the same time,
expeditious, that we will consider your term of probation here at an
end; we agreed to raise your salary at the end of the month, if your
services were satisfactory; they are eminently so, and I will take the
responsibility of paying you one hundred and twenty-five dollars for
this first month also. As to your fare back and forth between here and
Silver City, of course we will pay that."
"Then," said Houston, smiling and inwardly congratulating himself, "I
do not see but that it is settled that I go to Silver City whenever
you are ready."
"Very well," said Mr. Blaisdell, "you will not need to go down there
for ten days or so, as the time will make no appreciable difference in
the state of affairs there, and I shall need you here during that
time, as some parties are coming out from the east to look at some
mining properties, and both Morgan and myself will probably have to
spend most of our time at the mines."
That evening, at the boarding house, Houston sat apparently interested
in a game of chess between Miss Gladden and Rutherford, but in
reality, paying close attention to a conversation carried on in low
tones between Mr. Blaisdell and Morgan. Only an occasional sentence
was audible, but he could gather enough to satisfy himself regarding
the nature of their plans.
"Clean the rubbish out of the shaft, and set a couple of men to work
there for a day or two," Mr. Blaisdell was saying; a few words were
lost, and then he said, "Whenever I hear what day they are coming up,
we'll put on a good force."
"They'll have their own expert with them, I suppose?" asked Morgan.
"Yes," answered Mr. Blaisdell, "but if he's like the most of those
eastern experts, Haight and I can fix him very easily."
A little later the conversation ended, Mr. Blaisdell saying, as he
rose to go to his room:
"It is a confoundedly poor property, but I think a few tons of ore
from the Yankee Boy will sell it all right."
This remark gave Houston considerable food for reflection, as the
Yankee Boy was one of the richest properties owned by the New York
company. He had that day received his first letter from his uncle, in
New York, sent under cover of an envelope from the Chicago firm, and
written in reply to a letter from himself mailed immediately upon his
arrival at the mines; and Mr. Blaisdell and Morgan having left,
Houston retired to his room to make his first report of the
information he had secured and seemed likely to secure, concerning the
ways and means of the western mining company; leaving the chess
players deep in their game, and Lyle watching them.
Lyle, though keeping up her studies afternoons, had not been down to
Jack's cabin since the evening he had shown her the picture, partly on
account of the storm, and partly because she feared her father might
be watching her.
Jack had wondered at her absence, thinking perhaps her new friends had
something to do with it; but on this night, Jack had other company, as
Bull-dog had ensconced himself in Mike's chair beside the stove, and
having also appropriated Mike's briar pipe,--its owner being
absent,--was smoking with all the gravity and self-possession of an
old-timer, and entertaining Jack with his quaint talk.
"Say," he said at last, clasping his hands about his knee, and holding
the pipe between his teeth, "have ye seen that new feller up at the
orfice. Mister Houston, they call him?"
Jack replied, very indifferently, that he had seen him once or twice.
"Well, now, he's a Joe-dandy, a regular cracker-jack; an' he's goin'
ter be boss of that whole shootin' match, Morgan an' that little,
black, snaky feller, an' old Blaisdell, too, if he don't look out fer
hisself."
"What makes you think so?" asked Jack, much amused.
"I don't think so, I know it. He's got more sand than all the rest of
'em put together, an' he ain't afraid of nobody. 'D ye hear 'bout that
fight that him 'n Morgan had?"
"No, did they fight?" inquired Jack, much surprised.
"Did they fight!" exclaimed the little Arab, removing the pipe from
his mouth, and shaking his head with evident satisfaction at the
remembrance of the scene, "well, I should smile! Morgan, he tried hard
enough ter fight, but the other feller did him up in 'bout the
sixteenth part of a second!"
"Were you there?" asked Jack, laughing.
"I was peekin' through a crack in the door; they s'posed I'd gone, but
I see somethin' was up when Mister Houston first come in, an' I just
makes up my mind I'll see the fun through, an' when I goes out, I
bangs the door hard, and then opens it agin, careful like, and peeks
in; an' Mister Houston, he had walked over ter where Morgan was, an'
had lit into him 'bout somethin' or ruther he'd ben sayin', an' if he
didn't lay down the law ter him, I'll eat my hat. An' then Morgan he
sets out to give him some of his lip, and by Jiminy! 'fore he could
spit the words out, biff! comes a stunner right in his face, and shut
one eye. My, wasn't he mad though! Then he goes ter give the other
feller a punch in the head, an' Houston, he ducked the purtiest ye
ever see, and let out a blow at Morgan's jaw, an' gee-whizz! Morgan
goes a flying across the room, and lan's under the big desk, and he
never come to fer 'bout twenty minits. My, but 'twas the slickest
knock-out ye ever see, Corbett couldn't a done it slicker hisself! an'
I rolled down them steps a laughin' so I 'most died. I went back after
he'd come to, an' Mister Houston was a tellin' him ter come out an'
fight, but he didn't seem ter wan'ter very bad, an' I see the fun was
over, so I come away."
Jack had laughed heartily over Bull-dog's description of the scene;
now he asked:
"What was the fight about?"
"Well," said Bull-dog, gravely replacing his pipe in his mouth, "'s
near 's I could make out, 'twas 'bout some girl."
"What girl?" inquired Jack, rather quickly.
"Well, the new feller, he didn't call no names, but I heerd Morgan say
somethin' 'bout Lyle Maverick, an' so I guess 'twas her, but I knew
you was always kinder sweet on her yourself, an' so I wasn't goin' ter
say nothin', 'cause, 'nless you're a scrapper, you won't stand no sort
of a chance with that feller."
"All right, Bull-dog," said Jack, "I'm something of a 'scrapper'
myself, but I don't expect to get into any trouble;" the tone was
kind, and he spoke with a half smile, but the keenly observant eyes of
the boy detected a shade on Jack's face. However, all conversation was
suddenly checked by the entrance of Mike, who, in a manner more
forcible than ceremonious, dispossessed Bull-dog of his chair and
pipe. The little waif soon took his departure, but it was some time
before the cloud on Jack's brow was dispelled.