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The light dust peculiar to the mountain soils of California, stirred by many feet, billowed and rolled upward through the pines. Long rays of sunlight cut through it like swords. "Now did you ever see such utter damn foolishness?" growled Welton. "Make that bunch walk all the way up that mountain! What on earth is the difference whether they walk or ride?"
"What has that got to do with it?" "Baker paid the money for him," said Bob. "Well, they're both in the same boat," remarked Thorne tranquilly. "I don't see that that gives him any hold on Welton." "He threatens to turn state's evidence in the matter, and seems confident of immunity on that account." "He can't mean it!" cried Amy. "Sheer bluff," said Thorne. "I thought so, and went to see him.
At one point where the road emerged on a bold, clear point, Bob looked back to the shimmering plain, and was astonished to see how high they had climbed. To the eastward and only a few miles distant rose the dark mass of a pine-covered ridge, austere and solemn, the first rampart of the Sierras. Welton pointed to it with his whip. "There's our timber," said he simply.
Almost immediately after his return, the mill was closed down. The remaining lumber in the yards was shipped out as rapidly as possible. By the end of September the work was over. Bob perforce accepted a vacation of some months while affairs were in preparation for the westward exodus. Then he answered a summons to meet Mr. Welton at the Chicago offices.
In the city you'll find them holding open-air meetings. I suppose our friend Plant has been pinched?" "Not yet," grinned Bob, a trifle shamefacedly. "Don't get the reform bug, Bob," said Welton kindly, "That's all very well for those that like to amuse themselves, but we're busy." The following spring found Plant still in command. No word had come from the silence of political darkness.
If he's willing to rely on his men for knowledge, and will just see that everybody keeps busy and sees that they bunch their hits, why, he'll get on well enough." "It takes a pretty wise head to make them bunch their hits," Orde pointed out, "and a heap of figuring." "It'll keep him mighty busy, even at best," acknowledged Welton, "and he's going to make some bad breaks. I know that."
"I was just thinking of Harvey and Collins," he remarked enigmatically as he wiped his eyes. "Oh, Bobby, my son, you sure do please me. Only I was afraid for a minute it might be a flash in the pan and you weren't going to tell me to go to hell." They turned back toward the rear. "By the way," Welton remarked, "you made one bad break just now." "What was that?" asked Bob.
Welton drew last choice, and was commiserated on his bad fortune. No one offered to give way to the guest, however. On this point the rules of the Club were inflexible. Luckily the weather changed. It turned cold; the wind blew a gale. Squalls of light snow swept the marshes.
Plant, I'll see what's to be done," said he, and went out. In silence the two walked down the street until out of earshot. Then Bob broke out. "I'd like to punch his fat carcass!" he cried. "The old liar!" Welton laughed. "It all goes to show that a man's never too old to learn.
"One thousand dollars," replied Welton promptly "to hire extra fire-fighters to protect my timber," he added ironically. "Well?" "Well!" the lumberman slapped his knee. "I won't be held up in any such barefaced fashion!" "And your congressman will pull you out. Now let me drop a few pearls of wisdom in the form of conundrums.
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