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The Winning of Barbara Worth

H >> Harold B Wright >> The Winning of Barbara Worth




"Mr. Worth will see the committee," said Abe.

"But you have no right, sir--This is an outrage, a disgrace! I--"

A growl from the Irishman interrupted him. "That's just fwhat I'm
thinkin'. The presence av sich a domned hot air merchant as yersilf
is a disgrace to any Gawd-fearin' company av honest workin' men. Av
Abe here will only give me lave-"

Horace P. backed away, and from beyond reach of those huge fists
said loftily: "My friend Mr. Worth shall hear of this."

"'Tis likely that he will av ye stand widin rache of me two hands,"
agreed Pat.

Horace P. backed farther away. "I shall let him know that I offered
my services," he declared with all the dignity he could command.

"Do," called the Irishman. "I think that av ye offered yersilf chape
enough he might give ye a job wid a shovel on the grade. 'Tis mesilf
wud be proud to have ye in me gang av rough-necks. Dom' me but I
think I cud rejuce yer waist line to more reshpectable an'
presintable deminsions."

At this the crowd laughed outright, for not one of those hardy
pioneers but knew the real value of Horace P. Blanton to the
reclamation work and therefore the force of the Irish boss's
remarks.

While Pat and--against his will--the Company's representative were
amusing the crowd, Abe led the committee to Jefferson Worth. One of
these men was a prominent merchant who, for the first eight months
of his business in Kingston, had occupied a store-room in one of
Worth's buildings rent free. Another was a real estate man, whom the
banker had supplied with funds that enabled him to make several
profitable deals that would otherwise have been lost. The other man
was a successful rancher, who owned a half-section of improved land
joining the townsite. Deck Jordan had carried him at the store for
implements, seed and provisions the first two years.

Jefferson Worth greeted them in his habitually colorless voice, and
they--striving to see behind that gray mask--felt that there might
be something in the situation that had not appeared on the surface
in spite of the fact that the situation had been made so clear by
Horace P. Blanton after his interview with the president of the
Company. This quiet voiced, calm-faced man, who had been so ready to
help every worthy settler in the new country, did not appear at all
the monster in disguise that the chief speaker at the mass-meeting
had pictured. The committee, free from the heat of the crowd and the
eloquence of Horace P., felt just a little ashamed.

"Mr. Worth," said the spokesman with a smile, "we were appointed to
interview you about this railroad business."

"What do you wish to know, Gordon?"

"Well, first, is it true that you have sold out practically all of
your property in Kingston?"

"Yes. It was my property." Jefferson Worth did not explain that he
had sold because he was forced to turn everything he could into cash
in order to build the railroad so badly needed by the new country.

The committee looked serious. "Is it true," continued the spokesman,
"that you are changing the line of the railroad so as to take it to
Barba and leave Kingston out entirely?"

"The line of the road is changed," came the exact, colorless answer.

"Will it be possible to make some arrangement by which you would
carry out your former plan and build the road into Kingston?"

"You mean a bonus?"

"Yes."

"I'm not in the market."

"Is there nothing that we can do to change the situation?"

The answer startled the committee. "Tell Greenfield that he had
better see me himself."

Jefferson Worth's relation to The King's Basin Land and Irrigation
Company was always a much discussed question among the pioneers. The
new country was settled by working people of limited means, and if
there is one belief common to this class it is that all capitalists
are members of one great robber band, perfectly organized, firmly
united and operating in perfect harmony against their helpless
victim--the public. However much they might fight among themselves
over the division of the spoils, they were a unit in their common
operations against the masses.

From the first Jefferson Worth was held by many to be the secret
agent, the silent co-partner, of Greenfield, and the South Central
District seemed to justify this opinion, for of course the public
knew nothing of the inside of that deal. The people accepted Mr.
Worth's personal assistance cheerfully, thankfully, and had come to
look upon him as a friend. But this did not in the least alter their
belief that he belonged to the band. He was simply a generous,
gentlemanly sort of robber, kin to the hold-up man who returns the
railroad tickets of the passengers and refuses to rob the ladies.
This railroad situation had seemed to deny the relationship between
the banker and the Company, and now came Worth's advice: "Tell
Greenfield that he had better see me himself." It was no wonder that
the members of the committee looked at each other startled and
bewildered. Was it, after all, a fight between the members of the
band over the division of the spoils? It was too deep for the
committee. They could feel dimly that mighty forces were stirring
beneath the surface, but they could not fathom what it was all
about. One thing was clear: the one thing that is always clear when
capital speaks to business men of their class--they must obey.

"What shall we report to the crowd?" they asked as they arose to go.

"I figured that you would tell them what I have told you," came the
answer.

The crowd, when the committee briefly reported their interview, were
as puzzled as the members of the committee, and questioned and
discussed, affirmed and denied until Pat said to his companions on
the porch that it sounded like "a flock av domned bumble bees."

When the president of The King's Basin Land and Irrigation Company,
who dared not refuse the request of the committee, stood before
Jefferson Worth, the man behind the gray mask forced him to speak
first.

"I understand you wished to see me about this railroad matter, Mr.
Worth."

"I told the committee that you had better see me," came the answer
without a trace of emotion in the colorless voice.

"Well, I am here; what do you want?"

"I want a new contract from your Company binding you to build your
Central Main Canal on the line of the original survey, bringing it
to a point within four hundred yards of the west line of the South
Central District where the San Felipe trail crosses Dry River, and
agreeing to deliver into my power canal without charge a flow of
three hundred second feet of water, as in the old contract; and in
addition the exclusive power rights in all of the Company's canals
in the Basin."

"If I give you this contract you will build the railroad into
Kingston?"

"When you change the line of your canal back to the original route I
will change the line of my road."

"Suppose I refuse?"

"My railroad will not come into Kingston and I will explain to the
crowd out there the reason. You have worked up a pretty strong
public feeling against me, Mr. Greenfield. Now make good or stand in
my place and take the consequences."

James Greenfield was not slow to grasp the point. A simple
explanation of the situation from Jefferson Worth with the old
contract to back it up would turn the wrath of the people against
the Company president. Rising, he said with an oath: "You win, Mr.
Worth. I'll have the contract ready for your signature in the
morning. Now what will we do with that mob out there?"

"It is your mob, Mr. Greenfield," answered Jefferson Worth.

A few minutes later from the front porch of the Worth cottage, with
Texas Joe on his right hand and Pat on his left, Horace P. Blanton
announced: "Our committee will report at the opera house in half an
hour."

The committee reported that Kingston was saved and the orator of the
day made another speech so far eclipsing all his former efforts that
the cheering citizens were evenly divided as to whether it was James
Greenfield, Jefferson Worth or Horace P. Blanton who saved it.

"Well, boys," remarked one of the men from the South Central
District as the little party of horsemen set out for the long ride
home, "one thing is sure. Those Kingston fellows have got the
railroad, but we still have Jefferson Worth, an' I reckon that Jeff
can build us a railroad any old time he gets ready."

"That's right," returned another, "but what in hell do you suppose
it was all about? What's Jeff's game anyhow?"




CHAPTER XXIII.

EXACTING ROYAL TRIBUTE.


In spite of the optimistic view of the man who said that Jefferson
Worth could build a railroad for Barba and the South Central
District whenever he wished, there was no little disappointment
expressed in Worth's town when it became known that the Company town
was to have the road.

When the grading camps had returned to their former locations and
the construction train drew every day nearer Kingston, with the time
approaching when regular trains with passengers and freight would
ply to and from the Company town, the feeling of discontent in Barba
grew. It even came to be generally understood throughout the Basin
that the whole movement had been cleverly planned by Jefferson Worth
to force The King's Basin Land and Irrigation Company to make a
large contribution to the railroad builder's personal fortune. The
people sensed something in the whole transaction that they could not
clearly grasp, an intangible, mysterious something, as great as it
was indefinite. They felt blindly that they were being used without
their consent in a game played by these master financiers, and they
resented being sacrificed as dumb pawns in a move, the purpose of
which they could not know.

In the meantime, while the people were charging him with selling
them out to gain his own ends, the man whose purpose was known only
to himself was putting into his enterprise the last dollar of his
resources, and another flood season with its appalling danger was at
hand.

Because his laborers on the railroad were not as the men who built
the South Central canals, working for more than their day's wage,
and because, though no one knew it, Jefferson Worth's finances were
so nearly exhausted, work on the road, as on the Company project,
was discontinued for the summer months, to be resumed in the fall--
perhaps.

Barbara again refused to leave her father and in the close
companionship and full understanding of his daughter, the man, who
lived so much alone behind his gray mask, found inspiration and
strength.

The telephone now connected the heading at the river intake with
Kingston, and every hour of those hot days and nights Jefferson
Worth listened for a call from Willard Holmes, who also had refused
to leave his work, while three of the fastest saddle horses in the
Basin were stabled with El Capitan. Texas, Abe and Pablo were ready
to ride at an instant's notice to rally the pioneers, who were
developing their ranches, building their homes and planning their
future unconscious of the real danger that hung over them.

Vague rumors of the dangerous condition of the Company structures
floated about and there were not wanting prophecies of disaster. But
not one in a hundred of the settlers had even visited the intake at
the river, or if they had, what could they judge of conditions
there? The settlers were ranchers, not civil engineers. The Company
zanjeros turned the water into their ditches when they asked for it;
their crops, growing marvelously in the rich soil, demanded constant
attention; they had neither time, inclination nor ability to
investigate every flying rumor. As for the prophets of evil, only
confirmed optimists can reclaim a desert or settle a new country and
the croakers received little attention. Besides, the great, all-
powerful Company would surely protect its own interests and, in
protecting its own, would protect the interests of the settlers. It
was the business of the Company engineers to look after the river.
The ranchers were looking after the ranches.

Thus another summer went by and the great river, save for the small
toll taken by those who were reclaiming the desert it had created in
the ages of long ago, continued on its way to the sea. Its time was
not yet.

With the return of the cooler weather and the still further increase
in the volume of new life that continued to pour into the Basin from
the great world outside, work on the railroad was begun again, but
Jefferson Worth knew that the first pay day would mark the end. He
was as a man with his back to a wall, fighting bravely to the last
blow, and he stood alone.

Among the hundreds of pioneers with whom Worth had elected--as he
had told Abe Lee the night of his arrival in Kingston--to take a
chance, there was not one to take a chance with him now. If he lost
he would lose alone, for those who had built upon the work that he
had done would not suffer through his defeat. Had any of them known
the situation they could have done nothing to help him. But no one
knew, and this was the financier's one desperate chance--that no one
did know, not even Barbara.

With his capital exhausted and no resources upon which he could
realize, he went ahead with the work apparently with the confidence
of one with millions behind him. It was, in the language of the
West, all a bluff. But it was a magnificent bluff.

Two weeks of the month were gone when a telegram from the high
official of the S. & C. summoned him to the city.

The railroad man, in the secrecy of his private office, greeted the
promoter with his usual, "Hello, Jeff. I see The King's Basin is
still on the map."

Jefferson Worth smiled, then, as the official's eyes were fixed upon
his face in a way that he understood, he retreated behind his mask.
"Things are going very well," he answered.

"Working full gangs on that railroad of yours?"

"We have taken on all the men we can handle. We will be ready for
that last lot of steel in another two weeks."

The other lay back in his chair and laughed with hearty admiration
and regard. "Jeff, you are a wonder! How long do you suppose it
would take Greenfield to start something with your creditors if he
knew what I know?"

Not a line of Jefferson Worth's face changed, only his nervous
fingers caressed his chin and the railroad man, noting the familiar
signal, smiled again. Then leaning forward in his chair he said:
"Jeff, I have been keeping my eye on you ever since those days when
our line was building into Rubio City and you handled the right-of-
way for us. I have never caught you in a blunder yet. When it comes
to sizing up a proposition all around I don't believe you have an
equal. Now look here." With a quick movement he took a paper from a
pigeon-hole in his desk and laid it before the other. The paper was
a carefully tabulated statement of Jefferson Worth's financial
condition at that moment. In vain the official tried to see behind
that gray mask.

"Well." The word was absolutely colorless.

"Well!" repeated the other savagely, "what I want to know is this:
why in hell you are bucking Greenfield and his crowd to such a
limit?"

"Because," said Jefferson Worth carefully, "I believe in the future
of The King's Basin project, providing--" he paused.

"Providing what?"

"Providing someone bucks Greenfield to the limit."

In one instantaneous flash, the man whose clear brain directed
thousands of miles of a great railroad system caught a glimpse of
the real Jefferson Worth--the Jefferson Worth who was not, as the
railroad man had himself said, "doing it all for a dinky little
power plant."

"Jeff," he said slowly, "when you asked us to build a branch line
into the Basin I told you that we couldn't do it. As I said then, we
are not in the insurance business. A railroad's business depends
upon the actual development of a country, not upon backing promoters
who open up a new country simply as a speculative proposition. You
say you believe in the future of The King's Basin country providing
some one bucks Greenfield and you are sure giving him a run for his
money. But you have reached the end of your pile and I know it. Now,
I have been taking up this matter with our people and we are ready
to take a chance on your judgment. Suppose we take over your road as
it stands at a fair price--what would be your next move? Get out and
leave us in the insurance business?"

"I would build a line from Kingston to Barba, tapping the South
Central District, which is the richest section of the Basin," came
the instant reply.

"Good! But perhaps you don't want to sell the line you are building
to the S. & C.," he suggested with a smile.

"I figured that you would be ready to make me a proposition about
the time I had it in shape for the last shipment of steel."

Worth's bluff had won.

The railroad man said again solemnly: "Jeff, you are a wonder!"

With the passing of his nearly completed railroad into the hands of
the S. & C. Jefferson Worth began at once to arrange for the
building of the other line from Barba to Kingston. This new road, to
be known as the King's Basin Central, connecting with what was now
the S. & C., would give an outlet to the rich South Central
District, while the Southwestern and Continental Company announced
that its new branch would not stop at Kingston but would build on
south to Frontera.

With a main line branch of a trans-continental railroad building
straight through the heart of the new country, and their town
located just half way between the junction and the terminal, The
King's Basin Land and Irrigation Company saw the value of their
property increased many times. The day was not far distant now when
every quarter section of the desert land would be filed on by eager
settlers, and the once barren waste would rapidly give place to the
fertile fields of the ranchers, every foot of which should yield
tribute to James Greenfield and his associates. But the reclamation
of the desert opened many avenues for profit other than the
irrigation system.

From these also the Company, obeying the law of Good Business, had
planned to take toll, but the field for investment most closely
allied with the fields of the ranchers, and therefore keeping even
pace with the increasing wealth of the new country, had been
preempted by Jefferson Worth. The Company desired to add to their
holdings those enterprises that had come to be known as the Worth
interests. They had failed repeatedly to bring about a union of
forces. Their only recourse then was to force the independent
operator to sell to them or to eliminate him from The King's Basin
project. To this end Greenfield and Burk watched and planned on the
well known principle that whatever Jefferson Worth wanted was bad
for the Company, until the day when the interests of Worth and those
of The King's Basin Land and Irrigation Company should be the same
or Jefferson Worth should be no longer a factor in the new country.

While the Worth enterprises were firmly established in all the
centers of activity in the Basin, the Company knew that his largest
interests were in Barba and the South Central District. Worth must
have railroad connections with the S. & C. line before he could even
begin to realize on his largest investments. There was every reason
why he should desire to make Kingston the junction point of the road
he was now forced to build. James Greenfield was not backward in
letting Worth understand that he would need to pay well for a right-
of-way with terminal facilities in the Company town.

For two weeks Jefferson Worth tried to bring the Company president
to some reasonable settlement but his efforts only served to make
Greenfield more determined to exact royal tribute. "I tell you,"
said the president triumphantly to his Manager, "he's forced to
build that line or go to smash with his town and district. No one
will settle away off there from the railroad as long as they can
locate in reach of Kingston or Frontera, and he has got to connect
with the S. & C. branch at Kingston, for we are the only place
between the main line and the terminal."

When Mr. Worth reminded them that the proposed road would benefit
Kingston and that in view of its value to their town it would be
only just for them to give him the privileges he needed but for
which he was quite ready to pay a reasonable price, Greenfield
declared that his Company had already given Worth quite enough. Of
course, if they could find some basis upon which to unite their
interests that would be another matter.

Then the evening mail brought to Mr. Worth certain legal looking
papers and the next morning he called again upon Mr. Greenfield. In
a spring wagon in front of the Company office Texas Joe and Abe Lee
waited with a prosperous looking stranger who also had arrived the
evening before.

"Mr. Greenfield, I have come for your final answer on this railroad
deal."

On Greenfield's face there was a smile of satisfaction and triumph.
There were several reasons why he enjoyed seeing Jefferson Worth in
a corner. "I am ready to listen to any other proposition you have to
make, Mr. Worth."

"You have the only proposition I shall make."

"Really, I fear that we can do nothing this morning."

The visitor turned on his heel and left the office.

Later, in describing the interview to Willard Holmes, Burk commented
thoughtfully: "I very much fear your festive Uncle Jim played the
game a little too fine. You can take some things and most men for
granted; but a railroad, now, and Jefferson Worth----" he shifted
his cigar to the corner of his mouth and cocked his head in the
opposite direction. "I think, Willard, that something is going to
happen."

What happened was this: When Jefferson Worth left the Company's
office he stepped into the waiting rig beside the stranger. "Go
ahead, Abe," he said. Then the surveyor giving Texas the direction,
the team sped away. Once in the desert they stopped occasionally
while the surveyor examined the four by four redwood stakes. At a
point on the S. & C. four miles north of Kingston and therefore
between the Company town and the main line, Abe directed Texas to
stop.

The surveyor, taking a note book from his pocket, went to a corner
stake and indicated with outstretched hands the direction of the
boundary lines of a tract of land owned by his employer. "Here we
are, Mr. Worth."

The place was raw desert and except for the railroad without sign of
life save the life of the hard, desolate land; though in the
distance could be seen the improved ranches, with Kingston in their
midst. Standing on the slight elevation of the railroad grade
Jefferson Worth looked around silently. Then, followed by the
stranger and Abe, he walked some distance west of the track.

Pausing and striking his boot-heel into the soft earth, he said with
much less show of emotion than is exhibited by the average school
boy in laying out a ball-ground: "We will build a hotel here; over
there a bank. The main street will run toward the railroad. The
Basin Central from Barba will come in from the southeast."

And this was the beginning of Republic, the town that was built on a
barren desert almost in the time it would have taken to prepare the
land, plant and grow a crop of corn.

The stranger was the president of a townsite company organized by
Jefferson Worth while James Greenfield was congratulating himself
that he at last had that gentleman in a trap. Worth had given the
company the land and had entered into an agreement whereby he was to
build a hotel and several business blocks and furnish them, rent
free, for one year.

With the railroad to deliver material in any desired quantity, work
was begun in a few days. The King's Basin Messenger and the papers
in Frontera and Barba, all owned by Worth, gave full accounts of the
birth of the new town and the reason why The King's Basin Central
would not be built into Kingston, with glowing accounts of Worth's
plans for the future of the Company's rival town. The Worth Electric
Company moved its plant from Kingston to Republic; the ice-plant,
the bank, the telephone office and every enterprise controlled by
Worth followed; while many merchants, lured by the success of the
Wizard of the Desert in every undertaking and by the promise of rent
free, went with the Worth industries; and from the world outside
many, who had hesitated to enter the new country before the
railroad, rushed in to locate in the new town. The first building
completed in Republic was a cottage for Barbara and her father.

Meanwhile the work on the road to Barba and the South Central
District was begun. The "something" prophesied by Mr. Burk had
happened.




CHAPTER XXIV.

JEFFERSON WORTH GOES FOR HELP.


The winter following the birth of Republic witnessed the greatest
activities that had been seen in the new country. The freighters'
wagons that had once seemed so pitifully inadequate, as they crept
feebly away into the mysterious silences, were replaced now by long
trains, heavily loaded with building material and goods of every
kind and drawn by laboring engines that puffed and roared and
clanged and screamed their stirring answer to the challenge of the
silent, age-old, desolate land. And still the work that had been
done was small in comparison with that which was yet to do before
the reclamation of Barbara's Desert would be complete. The acres of
land untouched by grader's Fresno or rancher's plow were many more
than the acres that were producing crops. The miles of canals and
ditches that were to be built were many more than the miles already
carrying water. The tent houses and shacks of the pioneers were yet
to be replaced by more comfortable homes. The frontier towns--big in
that new country--were yet to grow into cities. From the top of any
building in any one of the four towns one could look into the barren
desert.

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