Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 147: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

FIRST NATIONAL At this conference the engineer’s first words were reassuring. ‘‘ We’re now on the right track,’ he said. “ Indications are that our last drift has located a rich field of gold-bearing gravel.” But this auspicious introduction was merely the feint that covered a knock-out blow. “It’s a question now of funds,” Farrel went on. ‘“ Not only have we expended your contribution, but for many weeks we have been bearing the entire costs. The company advises me, in Mr. Truscott’s ab- sence, that we must have at least twenty- five thousand dollars from you at once.” He paused for reply. “We ain’t got nothin’—yuh can’t take blood from a stone,” Tim Betts muttered finally. ° “Then,” pronounced Farrel icily, “TI cant see anything else but for you to assign your interests to the company. The de- velopment is likely to be productive now, but there is no telling how long it will con- tinue profitable. If we are going to take all the risks, we want all the profits.” The professor requested a moment to discuss the matter among themselves. When Farrel had stepped outside, the min- ers looked hopelessly at one another. The professor frowned his pessimism. “We might invoke the law, because of the short notice they have given us in which to raise funds. Or we might secure financial backing on the strength of our. prospects. Or we might force a new organization— and obtain capital through stock subscrip- tions. ‘““But how can we do anything without a little ready cash? Among us all there isn’t enough money to defray the expenses of a man to the coast—to put up a proper front and make a successful dicker. ““T guess this does finish us,” Betts sadly agreed. He gulped hard. ‘Only sorry I got you fellers into this,” he said. “It was not your fault, Tim,” the pro- fessor broke in roughly. ‘“ We’ve simply played our last card—and it turns out a deuce. Our trouble has been, we’ve played too many cards. In plain words, we’ve made damn fools of ourselves.” “Since we’re dead ones, we might as BANK OF FARO. 489 well get the obsequies over,” remarked the Doc with grim cheerfulness. At a nod from the professor he walked to the door and called Farrel. “It’s yours,” rasped the professor. The engineer smiled his cool satisfac- tion. ‘“ That’s settled,” he commented. In a tone less brutal: “Mr. Truscott’ gave me instructions in such event. He thought he might be able to salvage something for you out of the wreck—some small interest in the mine, perhaps. It will be necessary for you to go to San Francisco to sign certain papers and/arrange certain formalities. This mem- orandum shows the place and day for the appointment. He also instructed me to advance this sum for your traveling ex- penses.”’ Dropping the memorandum and a bulky roll of currency on the table, Farrel disap- peared before the miners could catch their breath. : “We don’t want their dirty money!” shouted Mandy Swatt, first to recover. “They beat us. We're sports enough to quit the game without hollerin’ fer a hand- out!” “Don’t be hasty, man,” the professor admonished, his brow in a thoughtful puck- er. ‘‘ There may be something behind this. For all that John Truscott was a clam, so far as conversation with us went, I think he felt kindly disposed toward us. ‘“ Why not meet him half-way? Some of us are not aS young as we once were. If we can save a few pennies out of this mess —and still maintain what little self-respect we have—I say, by all means let us do it.” “Truscott was a decent fellow, I must say,’ Tiny Tim coincided. “ Mebbe he is a better friend than we realize.” So the Dry Gulchers determined to see it through. VI. PACKING up was simple. It only meant putting a few necessary garments into an- cient valises—and walking out. Not even a key to turn in a lock—where no doors ever had been locked! Moved by common impulse, the miners trotted with their bags over to the profes- conmiclooolks.conn