A GAME FOR BIG STAKES
The next thirty days--before the stockholders' meeting--were spent by
Rimrock in trying to explain. In spite of her suggestion that he was
not good at that art he insisted upon making things worse. What he
wanted to say was that the pooling of their stock would be a
happy--though accidental--resultant of their marriage; what he actually
said was that they ought to get married because then they would stand
together against Stoddard. But Mary only listened with a wise,
sometimes wistful, smile and assured him he was needlessly alarmed. It
was that which drove him on--that wistful, patient smile. Somehow he
felt, if he could only say the right words, she would lean right over
and kiss him!
But those words were never spoken. Rimrock was worried and harassed
and his talk became more and more practical. He was quarreling with
Jepson, who stood upon his rights; and Stoddard had served notice that
he would attend the meeting in person, which meant it had come to a
showdown. So the month dragged by until at last they sat together in
the mahogany-furnished Directors' room. Rimrock sat at the head of the
polished table with Mary Fortune near by, and Stoddard and Buckbee
opposite. As the friend of all parties--and the retiring
Director--Buckbee had come in the interest of peace; or so he claimed,
but how peace would profit him was a question hard to decide. It might
seem, in fact, that war would serve better; for brokers are the sharks
in the ocean of finance and feed and fatten where the battle is
fiercest.
Whitney Stoddard sat silent, a tall, nervous man with a face lined deep
with care, and as he waited for the conflict he tore off long strips of
paper and pinched them carefully into little square bits. Elwood
Buckbee smiled genially, but his roving eye rested fitfully on Mary
Fortune. He was a dashing young man of the Beau Brummel type and there
was an ease and grace in his sinuous movements that must have fluttered
many a woman's heart. But now he, too, sat silent and his appraising
glances were disguised in a general smile.
"Well, let's get down to business," began Rimrock, after the
preliminaries. "The first thing is to elect a new Director. Mr.
Buckbee here has been retired and I nominate Mary Fortune to fill the
vacancy."
"Second the motion," rapped out Stoddard and for a moment Rimrock
hesitated before he took the fatal plunge. He knew very well that,
once elected to the directorship, he could never remove her by himself.
Either her stock or Stoddard's would have to go into the balance to
undo the vote of that day.
"All in favor say 'Ay!'"
"Ay!" said Stoddard grimly; and Rimrock paused again.
"Ay!" he added and as Mary wrote it down she felt the eyes of both of
them upon her. The die had been cast and from that moment on she was
the arbiter of all their disputes.
They adjourned, as stockholders, and reconvened immediately as
Directors; and the first matter that came up was a proposition from
Buckbee to market a hundred million shares of common stock.
"You have here," he said, "a phenomenal property--one that will stand
the closest of scrutiny; and with the name of Whitney H. Stoddard
behind it. More than that, you are on the eve of an enormous
production at a time when copper is going up. It is selling now for
over eighteen cents and within a year it will be up in the twenties.
Within a very few months, unless I am mistaken, there will be a battle
royal in the copper market. The Hackmeister interests have had copper
tied up, but the Tecolote Company can break that combine and at the
same time gain an enormous prestige. There will be a fight, of course,
but this stock will cost you nothing and you can retain a controlling
share. My proposition is simply that you issue the common and divide
it pro rata among you, your present stock then becoming preferred.
Then you can put your common on the market in such lots as you wish and
take your profits at the crest. In conclusion let me say that I will
handle all you offer at the customary broker's charge."
He sat down and Rimrock looked out from under his eyebrows at Stoddard
and Mary Fortune.
"Very well," said Stoddard after waiting for a moment. "It's agreeable
to me, I'm sure."
"I'm against it," declared Rimrock promptly. "I'm against any form of
reorganization. I'm in favor of producing copper and taking our
profits from that."
"But this is plain velvet," protested Buckbee, smilingly. "It's just
like money picked up in the road. I don't think I know of any company
of importance that hasn't done something of the kind."
"I'm against it," repeated Rimrock in his stubborn way and all eyes
were turned upon Mary Fortune. She sat very quiet, but her anxious,
lip-reading gaze shifted quickly from one to the other.
"Did you get that, Miss Fortune?" asked Buckbee suavely, "the
proposition is to issue a hundred million shares of common and start
them at, say, ten cents a share. Then by a little manipulation we can
raise them to twenty and thirty, and from that on up to a dollar. At
that price, of course, you can unload if you wish: I'll keep you fully
informed."
"Yes, I understood it," she answered, "but I'm not in favor of it. I
think all stock gambling is wrong."
"You--_what_?" exclaimed Buckbee, and Whitney H. Stoddard was so
astounded that he was compelled to unmask. His cold, weary eyes became
predatory and eager and a subtle, scornful smile twisted his lips.
Even Rimrock was surprised, but he leaned back easily and gave her a
swift, approving smile. She was with him, that was enough; let the
stock gamblers rage. He had won in the very first bout.
"But my dear Miss Fortune," began Stoddard, still smiling, "do you
realize what you have done? You have rejected a profit, at the very
least, of one or two million dollars."
"That may be," she said, "but I prefer not to take it unless we give
something in return."
"But we do!" broke in Buckbee, "that stock is legitimate. The people
that buy in will get rich."
"But the people who buy last will lose," she said. "I know, because I
did it myself."
"Oho!" began Buckbee, but at a glance from Stoddard he drew back and
concealed his smirk. Then for half an hour with his most telling
arguments and the hypnotic spell of his eyes Whitney Stoddard outdid
himself to win her over while Rimrock sat by and smiled. He had tried
that himself in days gone by and he knew Stoddard was wasting his
breath. She had made up her mind and that was the end of it--there
would be no Tecolote common. Even Stoddard saw at last that his case
was hopeless and he turned to the next point of attack. Rimrock Jones,
he knew, opposed him on general principles--but the girl as a matter of
conscience. They would see if that conscience could not be utilized.
"Very well," he said, "I'll withdraw my motion. Let us take up this
matter of the saloon."
"What saloon?" demanded Rimrock, suddenly alert and combative, and
Stoddard regarded him censoriously.
"I refer," he said, "to the saloon at the camp, which you have put
there in spite of Jepson's protests. Now outside the question of
general policy--the effect on the men, the increase in accidents and
the losses that are sure to result--I wish to protest, and to protest
most vigorously, against having a whiskey camp. I want the Tecolote to
draw the best type of men, men of family who will make it their home,
and I think it's a sin under circumstances like this to poison their
lives with rum. I could speak on this further, but I simply make a
motion that Tecolote be kept a temperance camp."
He paused and met Rimrock's baleful glance with a thin-lipped fighting
smile; and then the battle was on. There were hot words in plenty and
mutual recrimination, but Stoddard held the high moral ground. He
stuck to his point that employers had no right to profit by the
downfall of their men; and when it came to the vote, without a moment's
hesitation, Mary Fortune cast her vote with his.
"What's that?" yelled Rimrock, rising up black with anger and striking
a great blow on the table. "Have I got to tell Hassayamp to go? This
old friend of mine that helped me and staked me when nobody else would
trust me? Then I resign, by grab. If I can't do a little thing like
that, I'm going to quit! Right now! You can get another manager! I
resign! Now vote on it! You've got to accept it or----"
"I accept it!" said Stoddard and a wild look crossed Rimrock's face as
he saw where his impetuosity had led him. But Mary Fortune, with an
understanding smile, shook her head and voted no.
"How do _you_ vote?" challenged Stoddard, trying to spur him to the
leap, but Rimrock had sensed the chasm.
"I vote _no_!" he said with answering scowl. "I'll take care of Mr.
Hicks, myself. You must take me for a sucker," he added as an
afterthought, but Stoddard was again wearing his mask. It was Buckbee
who indulged in the laugh.
"We can't all win," he said, rising up to go. "Think of me and that
Tecolote common!"
Rimrock grinned, but Stoddard had come there for a purpose and he did
not choose to unbend.
"Mr. Jones," he began, as they were left alone, "I see we are not able
to agree. Every point that I bring up you oppose it on general
principles. Have you any suggestions for the future?"
"Why, yes," returned Rimrock, "since I'm in control I suggest that you
leave me alone. I know what you'd like--you'd like to have me play
dead, and let you and Jepson run the mine. But if you've got enough,
if you want to get out, I might take that stock off your hands."
A questioning flash came into Stoddard's keen eyes.
"In what way?" he enquired cautiously.
"Well, just place a value on it, whatever you think it's worth, and
we'll get right down to business." Rimrock hitched up his trousers,
and the square set of his shoulders indicated his perfect willingness
to begin. "You're not the only man," he went on importantly, "that's
got money to put into mines."
"Perhaps not," admitted Stoddard, "but you take too much for granted if
you think I can be bought out for a song."
"Oh, no," protested Rimrock, "I don't think anything like that. I
expect you to ask a good price. Yes, a big price. But figure it out,
now, what you've put into the mine and a reasonable return for your
risk. Then multiply it by five, or ten, or twenty, whatever you think
it's worth, and make me an offer on paper."
"Not at all! Not at all!" rapped out Stoddard hastily, "I'm in the
market to buy."
"Well, then, make me an offer," said Rimrock bluffly, "or Miss Fortune
here, if she'd like to sell. Here, I'll tell you what you do--you name
me a figure that you'll either buy at, or sell! Now, that's fair,
ain't it?"
A fretful shadow came over Stoddard's face as he found himself still on
the defense and he sought to change his ground.
"I'll tell you frankly why I make this offer--it's on account of the
Old Juan claim. If you had shown any tendency to be in the least
reasonable I'd be the last to propose any change----"
"Never mind about that," broke in Rimrock peremptorily, "I'll take your
word for all that. The question is--what's your price?"
"I don't want to sell!" snapped out Stoddard peevishly, "but I'll give
you twenty million dollars for your hundred thousand shares of stock."
"You offered that before," countered Rimrock coolly, "when I was shut
up in the County Jail. But I'm out again now and I guess you can see I
don't figure on being stung."
"I'll give you thirty million," said Stoddard, speaking slowly, "and
not a dollar more."
"Will you sell out for that?" demanded Rimrock instantly. "Will you
take _forty_ for what you hold? You won't? Then what are you offering
it to me for? Haven't I got the advantage of control?"
"Well, perhaps you have," answered Stoddard doubtfully and turned and
looked straight at Mary. "Miss Fortune," he said, "I don't know you
intimately, but you seem to be a reasonable woman. May I ask at this
time whether it is your present intention to hold your stock, or to
sell?"
"I intend to hold my stock," replied Mary very quietly, "and to vote it
whichever way seems best."
"Then am I to understand that you don't follow Mr. Jones blindly, and
that he has no control over your stock?"
Mary nodded, but as Stoddard leaned forward with an offer she hurried
on to explain.
"But at the same time," she said in her gentlest manner and with a
reassuring glance at her lover, "when we think what hardships Mr. Jones
had endured in order to find this mine, and all he has been through
since, I think it is no more than right that he should remain in
control."
"Aha! I see!" responded Stoddard cynically, "may I enquire if you
young people have an understanding?"
"That is none of your business," she answered sharply, but the telltale
blush was there.
"Ah, yes, excuse me," murmured Stoddard playfully, "a lady might well
hesitate--with him!"
He cast a teasing glance in the direction of Rimrock and perceived he
had guessed right again. "Well, well," he hurried on, "that does make
a difference--it's the most uncertain element in the game. But all
this aside, may I ask you young people if you have a top price for your
stock. I don't suppose I can meet it, but it's no harm to mention it.
Don't be modest--whatever it is!"
"A hundred million dollars!" spoke up Rimrock promptly, "that's what I
value my share of the mine."
"And you?" began Stoddard with a quizzical smile, but Mary seemed not
to hear. It was a way she had, when a thing was to be avoided; but
Stoddard raised his voice. "And you, Miss Fortune?" he called
insistently. "How much do you want for your stock?"
She glanced up, startled, then looked at Rimrock and dropped her eyes
to the table.
"I don't wish to sell," she answered quietly and the two men glared at
each other.
"Mr. Jones," began Stoddard in the slow, measured tones of a priest who
invokes the only god he knows, "I'm a man of few words--now you can
take this or leave it. I'll give you--fifty--million--dollars!"
"Nothing doing!" answered Rimrock. "I don't want to sell. Will you
take fifty millions for yours?"
For a moment Stoddard hesitated, then his face became set and his voice
rasped harshly in his throat.
"No!" he said. "I came here to buy. And you'll live to wish you had
sold!"
"Like hell!" retorted Rimrock. "This has been my day. I'll know where
I'm at, from now on."