VANE FORESEES TROUBLE.
Nairn was sitting at a writing-table when Vane entered his room, and
after a few questions about his journey, he handed the younger man one
of the papers that lay in front of him.
"It's a report from the mine," he said.
Vane carefully studied the document.
"It only brings us back to our last conversation on the subject," he
remarked when his host glanced at him inquiringly. "We have the choice
of going on as we are doing, or extending our operations by an increase
of capital. In the latter case, our total earnings might be larger, but
I hardly think there would be as good a return on the money actually
sunk. Taking it all round, I don't know what to think; but if it
appeared that there was a moral certainty of making a satisfactory
profit on the new stock, I should consent."
Nairn chuckled. "A moral certainty is no a very common thing in mining."
"I believe Horsfield's in favour of the scheme. How far would you trust
that man?" Vane inquired.
"About as far as I could fling a bull by the tail. The same thing
applies to both of them."
"He has some influence. He'd find supporters."
Nairn saw that the meaning of his last remark which implied that he had
no more confidence in Jessie than he had in her brother, had not been
grasped by his companion, but he did not consider it judicious to make
it plainer. Instead, he gave Vane another piece of information:
"Horsfield and Winter work into each other's hands."
"But Winter has no interest in the Clermont."
Nairn smiled sourly. "He holds no shares in the mine, but there's no
much in the shape of mineral developments yon man has no an interest in.
Since ye do not seem inclined to yield Horsfield a point or two, it
might pay ye to watch the pair of them."
Vane, who was aware that Winter was a person of some importance in
financial circles, remained silent for a couple of minutes. "Now," he
said, at length, "every dollar we have in the Clermont is usefully
employed and earning a satisfactory profit. Of course, if we put the
concern on the market, we might get more than it is worth from
investors; but that doesn't greatly appeal to me."
"It's unnecessary to point out that a director's interest is no
invariably the same as that of his shareholders," Nairn rejoined.
"It's an unfortunate fact. But I'd be no better off if I only got the
same actual return on a larger amount of what would be watered stock."
"There's sense in that. I'm no urging the scheme--there are other points
against it," answered Nairn.
"Well," said Vane, "I'll go up and look round the mine and then we'll
have another talk about the matter."
They changed the subject, but Vane walked back to his hotel in a
thoughtful frame of mind, and finding Carroll in the smoking-room
related his conversation with Nairn.
"I'm a little troubled about the situation," he concluded. "The Clermont
finances are now on a sound basis, but it might after all prove
advantageous to raise further capital, and in such a case we would,
perhaps, lie open to attack. Nairn's inclined to be cryptic in his
remarks; but he seems to hint that it would be advisable to make
Horsfield some concession--in other words, to buy him off."
"Which is a course you have objections to?"
"Yes," said Vane, "very decided ones."
"I think that, in a general way, Nairn's advice is sensible. Where
mining and other schemes are floated, there are men who make a good
living out of the operations. They're trained to the business; they've
control of the dollars; and when a new thing's put on the market, they
consider they've the first claim on the pickings."
"You needn't elaborate the point," Vane broke in impatiently.
"You made your appearance in this city as a poor and unknown man with a
mine to sell," Carroll went on. "Disregarding tactful hints, you laid
down your terms and stuck to them. Launching your venture without
considering their views, you did the gentlemen I've mentioned out of
their accustomed toll, and I've no doubt that some of them were
indignant. It's a thing you wouldn't expect them to sanction. Now,
however, one who has probably others behind him is making overtures to
you. You ought to consider it a compliment; a recognition of ability.
The question is--Do you mean to slight these advances and go on as you
have begun?"
"That's my present intention," Vane answered.
"Then you needn't be astonished if you find yourself up against a
determined opposition by and by," said Carroll.
"I think my friends will stand by me." Vane looked at him steadily.
"Thanks. I've merely been pointing out what you may expect, and hinting
at the most judicious course--though the latter's rather against my
natural inclinations. I'd better add that I've never been particularly
prudent, and the opposite policy appeals to me. If we're forced to clear
for action, we'll nail the flag to the mast."
It was spoken lightly; because the man was serious, but Vane knew he had
an ally who would support him with unflinching staunchness.
"I'm far from sure it will be needful," he replied, and they talked
about other matters until they strolled off to their rooms.
They spent the next week in the city, where Vane was kept occupied;
after which they sailed once more for the north; and pushed inland until
they were stopped by snow among the ranges, without finding the spruce.
The journey proved as toilsome as the previous one, and both the men
were worn out when they reached the coast. Vane was determined on making
a third attempt, but he informed Carroll that they would visit the mine
before proceeding to Vancouver. They had heavy rain during the voyage
down the Strait, and when on the day after reaching port, the jaded
horses they had hired plodded up the sloppy trail to the mine, a
pitiless deluge once more poured down on them.
The light was growing dim among the dripping firs, and a deep-toned roar
came throbbing across their shadowy ranks. By and by Vane; who was
leading, turned and glanced back at Carroll.
"I've never heard the river so plainly before," he said. "It must be
unusually swollen."
Since the mine was situated on a narrow level flat between the hillside
and the river, Carroll understood the anxiety in his comrade's voice;
and urging the wearied horses they pressed on a little faster. It was
almost dark when they reached the edge of an opening in the firs, and
saw a cluster of iron-roofed, wooden buildings and a tall chimney stack,
in front of which the unsightly ore-dump extended. Wet and chilled and
worn out as the men were, there was comfort in the sight; but Vane
noticed that a shallow lake stretched between him and the buildings. On
one side of it there was a broad strip of tumbling foam, which rose and
fell in confused upheavals and filled the forest with the roar it made.
Vane drove his horse into the water, and dismounting among the stumps
before the ore-dump, found a wet and soil-stained man awaiting him. A
long trail of smoke floated away from the iron stack behind him, and
through the sound of the river there broke the clank and thud of
hard-driven pumps.
"You have got a big head of steam up, Salter," he said.
The man nodded. "We want it. It's taking me all my time to keep the
water out of the workings. Leave your horses--I'll send along for
them--and I'll show you what we've been doing after supper."
"I'd sooner go now, while I'm wet," Vane answered.
They went down into the mine. The approach looked like a canal, and they
descended the shallow shaft amidst a thin cascade. The tunnel they
reached slanted, for the lode dipped, and the lights that twinkled here
and there among the timbering showed shadowy, half-naked figures toiling
in water which rose well up their boots. Further streams of it ran in
from fissures, and Vane's face grew grave as he plodded through the
flood with a lamp in his hand. He spent an hour in the workings, asking
Salter a question now and then, and afterwards went back with him to one
of the sheds, where he dressed in dry clothes and sat down to a meal.
When it was over and the table had been cleared, he lay in a canvas
chair beside the stove, in which resinous billets snapped and crackled
cheerfully. The deluge roared upon the iron roof; the song of the river
rose and fell, filling the place with sound; and now and then the
pounding and clanking of the pumps broke in.
Vane examined the sheet of figures Salter handed him. Then he carefully
turned over some of the pieces of stone the table was partly covered
with.
"There's no doubt those specimens aren't so promising, and the cost of
extraction is going up," he said at length. "I'll have a talk with Nairn
when I get back, but in the meanwhile it looks as if we were going to
have trouble with the water."
"It's a thing I've been afraid of for some time," Salter answered. "We
can keep down any leakage that comes in through the rocks, though it
means driving the pumps hard, but an inrush from the river would beat
us."
Vane let the matter drop, and an hour later he retired to his wooden
berth. In a few minutes he was fast asleep, but was awakened by a shrill
note, which he recognised as the whistle of the engine. It was sounding
the alarm, and next moment he was struggling into his clothing; then the
door swung open and Salter stood in the entrance, lantern in hand, with
water trickling from him. There was keen anxiety in his expression.
"Flood's lapping the bank top now," he said. "There's a jamb in the
narrow place at the head of the rapid, and the water's backing up. I'm
going along with the boys."
He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, and Vane dragged on his
jacket. If the mine were drowned, operations might be stopped for a
considerable time. What was more, it would precipitate a crisis in the
affairs of the company and necessitate an increase of its capital, which
he would sooner avoid.
He was outside in less than a minute and stood still looking about him,
while the deluge lashed his face and beat his clothing against his
limbs. He could only make out a blurred mass of climbing trees on one
side, and a strip of foam cutting through the black level which he
supposed was water, in front of him. His trained ears, however, gave him
a little information, for the clamour of the flood was broken by a sharp
snapping and crashing, which he knew was made by driftwood driving
furiously against the boulders. In that region, the river banks are
encumbered here and there with great logs, partly burned by forest
fires, reaped by gales, or brought down from the hill-sides by falls of
frost-loosened soil. A flood higher than usual sets them floating, and
on subsiding sometimes leaves them packed in a gorge or stranded in a
shallow to wait for the next big rise. Now they were driving down and,
as Salter had said, jambing at the head of the rapid.
Suddenly a column of fierce white radiance leaped up lower down-stream
and Vane knew that a big compressed air lamp had been carried to the
spot where the driftwood was gathering. Even at a distance, the
brightness of the glare dazzled him, so that he could see nothing else
when he headed towards it. He collided with a fir stump and struck it
with his knee, and in another minute the splashing about his feet warned
him that he was entering the water. Having no wish to walk into the main
stream, he floundered to one side. He was, however, getting nearer to
the blaze, and by and by he made out a swarm of figures scurrying about
beneath it. Some of them had saws or axes, for he caught the gleam of
steel, and broke into a run; and presently Carroll, whom he had
forgotten, came up, calling to him.