"By the legislature of this State. The law is against you holding what
you're doing now."
"We make what law there is out here."
"Well," said Hopkins, coolly, "I guess you're not going to do it long. You
know the maxim about fooling the people. It can't be done."
"Aren't you talking like one of those German socialists?"
"On the contrary. I quite fancy I'm talking like a business man. Now, you
want to realize on those cattle before the winter takes the flesh off
them, and extinguish the bank loan with what you get for them."
Clavering's face darkened. "That would strip the place, and I'd have to
borrow to stock again."
"You'd have to run a light stock for a year or two."
"It wouldn't suit me to do anything that would proclaim my poverty just
now," said Clavering.
"Then you'll have to do it by and by. The interest on the bond is
crippling you."
"Well." Clavering lighted another cigar. "I told you to be straight. Go
right on. Tell me just what you would do if the place was in your hands."
"Sell out those cattle and take the big loan up. Clear off the imported
horses and pedigree brood mares. You have been losing more dollars than
many a small rancher makes over them the last few years."
"I like good horses round the place," Clavering said languidly.
"The trouble," said Hopkins, "is that you can't afford to have them. Then,
I would cut down my personal expenses by at least two-thirds. The ranch
can't stand them. Do you know what you have been spending in the cities?"
"No. I gave you a bundle of bills so you could find it out."
Hopkins' smile was almost contemptuous. "I guess you had better burn them
when I am through. I'll mention one or two items. One hundred dollars for
flowers; one thousand in several bills from Chicago jewellers! The
articles would count as an asset. Have you got them?"
"I haven't," said Clavering. "They were for a lady."
"Well," said Hopkins, "you know best; but one would have fancied there was
more than one of them from the bills. Here's another somewhat curious
item: hats--I guess they came from Paris--and millinery, two hundred
dollars' worth of them!"
A little angry light crept into Clavering's eyes. "If I hadn't been so
abominably careless you wouldn't have seen those bills. I meant to put
them down as miscellaneous and destroy the papers. Well, I've done with
that extravagance, any way, and it's to hear the truth I'm paying you
quite a big fee. If I go on just as I'm doing, how long would you give
me?"
"Two years. Then the bank will put the screw on you. The legislature may
pull you up earlier, but I can tell you more when I've squared up
to-morrow."
There was a curious look in Clavering's dark eyes, but he laughed again.
"I guess that's about enough. But I'll leave you to it now," he said.
"It's quite likely I'll have got out of the difficulty before one of those
years is over."
He went out, and a few minutes later stopped as he passed the one big
mirror in the ranch, and surveyed himself critically for a moment with a
dispassionate interest that was removed from vanity. Then he nodded as if
contented.
"With Torrance to back me it might be done," he said. "Liberty is sweet,
but I don't know that it's worth at least fifty thousand dollars!"