Part 21 (2/2)
”Supporting an extravagant wife, I tell Mrs. Baker. You want to get down that way. The town's a marvel. It's grown from thirty thousand to two hundred thousand in twenty years; it has enough real estate subdivisions to accommodate eight million; it has invented the come-on house built by the real estate agents to show how building is looking up at Lonesomehurst; it has two thousand kinds of architecture--all different; it has more good stuff and more fake stuff than any place on earth--it's a wonder. Come on down and I'll show you the high buildings.”
He chatted for a few moments, then rose abruptly and disappeared down the aisle toward the sleeping cars without the formality of a farewell.
Welton had been listening amusedly, and puffing away at his cigar in silence.
”Well,” said he when Baker had gone. ”How do you like your friend?”
”He's certainly amusing,” laughed Bob, ”and mighty good company. That sort of a fellow is lots of fun. I've seen them many times coming back at initiation or Commencement. They are great heroes to the kids.”
”But not to any one else?” inquired Welton.
”Well--that's about it,” Bob hesitated. ”They're awfully good fellows, and see the joke, and jolly things up; but they somehow don't amount to much.”
”Wouldn't think much of the scheme of trying Baker as woods foreman up in our timber, then?” suggested Welton.
”Him? Lord, no!” said Bob, surprised.
Welton threw back his head and laughed heartily, in great salvos.
”Ho! ho! ho!” he shouted. ”Oh, Bobby, I wish any old Native Son could be here to enjoy this joke with me. Ho! ho! ho! ho!”
The coloured porter stuck his head in to see what this tremendous rolling noise might be, grinned sympathetically, and withdrew.
”What's the matter with you!” cried Bob, exasperated. ”Shut up, and be sensible.”
Welton wiped his eyes.
”That, son, is Carleton P. Baker. Just say Carleton P. Baker to a Californian.”
”Well, I can't, for four days, anyway. Who is he?”
”Didn't find out from him, for all his talk, did you?” said Welton shrewdly. ”Well, Baker, as he told you, graduated from college in '93.
He came to California with about two thousand dollars of capital and no experience. He had the sense to go in for water rights, and here he is!”
”Marvellous!” cried Bob sarcastically. ”But what is he now that he is here?”
”Head of three of the biggest power projects in California,” said Welton impressively, ”and controller of more potential water power than any other man or corporation in the state.”
Welton enjoyed his joke hugely. After Bob had turned in, the big man parted the curtains to his berth.
”Oh, Bob,” he called guardedly.
”What!” grunted the young man, half-asleep.
”Who do you think we'd better get for woods foreman just _in case_ Baker shouldn't take the job?”
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