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Updated: June 24, 2025
After the package was duly and neatly encased, labelled and deposited accurately in front of Mrs. Max, Merker looked her in the eye. "Five pounds of beans," said he, and paused for the next item. The moment the woman had departed, Merker resumed his pipe and his wide-eyed vacancy. Welton was immensely amused and tickled. "Seems to me he might keep a little busier," grumbled Bob.
"But," suggested Oldham, "it might very well be that another man would not be well, quite so qualified to carry out the case " "You mean I'm the only one who heard Baker say he was going to cheat the Government," put in Bob bluntly. "You and Mr. Welton and Mr. Baker were the only ones present at a certain interview," he amended.
It would count more than anything else if you'd stay just where you are and give us model operations in your own work." Bob shook his head. "Perhaps you don't know men like Mr. Welton as well as I do," said he; "I couldn't change his methods. That's absolutely out of the question. And," he went on with a sudden flash of loyalty to what the old-timers had meant, "I don't believe I'd want to."
"No tourist; permanent inhabitant," said Bob. "I'm with Welton." "Timber, by God!" exploded the fat man. "Well, you and I are like to have friendly doings. Your road goes through us, and you got to toe the mark, young fellow, let me tell you! I'm a hell of a hard man to get on with!" "You look it," said Bob. "You own some timber?" The fat man exploded again. "Hell, no!" he roared.
On a wintry and blustering evening in the latter part of February, 1902, Welton and Bob boarded the Union Pacific train en route for California. They distributed their hand baggage, then promptly took their way forward to the buffet car, where they disposed themselves in the leather-and-wicker armchairs for a smoke. At this time of year the travel had fallen off somewhat in volume.
"Not a thing." "Men who told me did " "A bunch of river-hogs," broke in Welton contemptuously. "It strikes me, young man, that you have the most colossal cheek I've ever heard of." But Bob faced him squarely. "Look here," he said decidedly, "I'm technically wrong, and I know it.
"I guess he won't bother us again," said Bob, returning to Welton. The latter laughed, a trifle ashamed of his anger. "Those fellows give me the creeps," he said, "like cats do some people. Mossbacks don't know no better, but a Government grafter is a little more useless than a nigger on a sawlog." He went out. Bob turned to Merker.
I shall never forget what pluck and courage he showed one night when the news was brought into camp that the enemy were landing from their ships. Our whole regiment was mustered in fifteen minutes, and on the way to pitch battle with the British and defend our shores. This Mr. Welton, who is now an old man, as stout and large as Gen.
California John, a tiny figure now, still sat patiently guarding the portals of an empty duty. Bob and Welton left the buckboard at Sycamore Flats and rode up to the mill by a détour. There they plunged into active work. The labour of getting the new enterprise under way proved to be tremendous.
But he's a good sort, too." "Everybody's a good sort to-day, aren't they, son?" smiled Orde. Welton met them, and expressed his satisfaction over the way everything had turned out. "I'm going duck shooting for fair," said he, "and I'm going fishing at Catalina. Out here," he explained to Orde, "you sit in nice warm sun and let the ducks insult you into shooting at 'em!
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