The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

162 syndicates over at Grafton would buy for a good price. If we can get thirty thou- sand dollars, let some one else make a bit, I say.” “You lunkhead!” shrilled Bunny, his temper clearly getting the better of his discretion, ““you wouldn’t talk like that if you wern’t lit up like a Fourth o’ July. Let’s work the thing a bit, and then get the capital, but hold a big slice ourselves. My idea is to keep quiet a while, and get options on all the adjoining properties. This has to be worked big.” “Bunny, you make me tired. If we work it ourselves, we'll be trimmed good and proper. ‘These promoters will take our hide and hair. Where in Sam Hill is the sense of hanging on for years, when you could get a good price and quit? What do we know about the business? I tell you it takes big capital to swing a thing like this. It’s my property, and I won’t let you gamble with it. If I get an offer that is good enough, I'll rush it.” “Cut out that line of talk, Jim Coch- rane. You owe me money, and if the place is in your name, I’m half partner. You double-cross me, and I'll soon show you what my rights are. You’re stewed, or you wouldn’t talk like this. “While you owe me money you can’t sell that property, I'd have you know,” Bunny went on. “Now, I’m off to Graf- ton with the plans to-night, and I think I can get some of the Standard Oil peo- ple that are over there to make a bid, and away over the price you think you can get. Ill wire you to-morrow, and if I don’t succeed you can have a try, but do nothing till then. Does that go?” ‘““Aw, I suppose so. You’re getting more reasonable now. Get a price, that’s all, I say. Don’t monkey round with corpora- tions.” _ Cochrane was growing sulky. “And, see here, Bunny, you throw that money I owe you into my face too often. Look out I don’t pay you off and dissolve partnership. You're asking for it.” “You won’t do that, when you get over your peeve, Jim. Come on, I’m off. There’s lot’s to do before I can get away.” THE ARGOSY. “T’m not stopping you. I’m staying here a while. You don’t want me to kiss you good-by, I suppose.” “No, I don’t,” snapped Bunny. “I’ve got work to do, and I’m naturally bilious, anyway.” Sandy slipped back into the bar as Bunny came out and entered the street. The excited speculations of the bar loungers were still in full swing. It must be remembered that the Grafton strike was the first evidence of oil in the country, where the ignorance of conditions and in- dications was colossal. But over the whole community there had burst a wave of sudden prosperity, and even in townships not directly af- fected by the boom, its influence was felt. The rosy fingers of Hope beckoned many to plunge into the syndicates and corpo- rations that sprang up like mushrooms. The advent of spray from this giant wave in the township of Yarran is under- standable, therefore. Cochrane entered the bar and beckoned to Sandy, who followed him to the parlor. Jim’s thoughts and Sandy’s were widely different. — = Sandy thought: “If I can get some proof of this oil strike, I’ll buy the place before Harding gets back, and put it off to a syndicate that will give me a hundred per cent profit.” Jim thought: ‘“He’s nosing round the hook. Here’s where I do the grand An- nette Kellermann dive, and fasten it in the old scoundrel’s pills.” In the back parlor, with many a lurch and stumble, and clutching fast to Sandy’s coat, Jim put up an appeal for a loan. “Bunny an’ [ have had a li'l’ diffunce, Mr. McKechnie, an’ I’m going to teach him a less’n. I want you sh’d len’ me a thousan’ poun’—” “Ye’ll no be expectin’ me tae len’ ye th’ amoont, Maister—” Sandy began when with drunken dignity Jim interrupted. “Sorry I mentioned it. Lemme tell you you’ve lost a big opportun’ty. I know somep’n you would pay money t’ hear, but I’ll keep ’t t’ myself. Good day, sir.” Go 0)(0\0) AMUG S (C@)