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Updated: June 15, 2025
Letton asked in a queer, thin voice. Daylight shook his head. "It's sure too expensive. You-all ain't worth it. I'd sooner have my chips back. And I guess you-all'd sooner give my chips back than go to the dead-house." A long silence followed. "Well, I've done dealt. It's up to you-all to play.
No little fraid-cat shrimps like you-all can skin Burning Daylight. If you win you lose, and there'll sure be some several unexpected funerals around this burg. "Just look me in the eye, and you-all'll savvee I mean business. Them stubs and receipts on the table is all yourn. Good day." As the door shut behind him, Nathaniel Letton sprang for the telephone, and Dowsett intercepted him.
As usual, his position was, "You've got to come and see me"; which they did, and, to use another of his phrases, they "paid through the nose" for the privilege. And all his venturing and fighting had now but one motive. Some day, as he confided to Hegan, when he'd made a sufficient stake, he was going back to New York and knock the spots out of Messrs. Dowsett, Letton, and Guggenhammer.
"That no estimate can possibly be made in advance," Letton supplemented. "Approximate it, approximate it," Daylight counselled cheerfully. "It don't hurt if you-all are a million or so out one side or the other. The figures'll straighten that up. But I'm that curious I'm just itching all over. What d'ye say?" "Why continue to play at cross purposes?" Dowsett demanded abruptly and coldly.
"And you are the man to do it, Mr. Harnish. They are bound to think you are on your own, and their shears are all sharpened for the trimming of newcomers like you." "They will certainly be misled," Letton agreed, his eerie gray eyes blazing out from the voluminous folds of the huge Mueller with which he was swathing his neck to the ears. "Their minds run in ruts.
You have no idea of the trouble they cause men like us sometimes, by their gambling tactics, upsetting the soundest plans, even overturning the stablest institutions." Dowsett and young Guggenhammer went away in one motor-car, and Letton by himself in another.
"The shorts will be the speculators," Nathaniel Letton explained, "the gamblers, the froth of Wall Street you understand. The genuine investors will not be hurt. Furthermore, they will have learned for the thousandth time to have confidence in Ward Valley. And with their confidence we can carry through the large developments we have outlined to you."
Despite the act that he had effected an entrance in the face of Letton's instructions to the outer office, he showed no indication of making a scene or playing rough. "Well," Daylight demanded good-humoredly, "ain't you-all got a good word for your pardner? Or has his sure enough brilliance plumb dazzled you-all?" Letton made a dry sound in his throat.
"Nothing in it only a rumor," came Leon Guggenhammer's throaty voice in the receiver. "As you know," said Nathaniel Letton, "I am one of the directors, and I should certainly be aware of it were such action contemplated." And John Dowsett: "I warned you against just such rumors. There is not an iota of truth in it certainly not. I tell you on my honor as a gentleman."
"I don't want to miss that train, and you-all have done me proud, gentlemen, letting me in on this deal. I just do appreciate it without being able to express my feelings. But I am sure almighty curious, and I'd like terrible to know, Mr. Letton, what your figures of our winning is. Can you-all give me a rough estimate?"
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