Part 30 (1/2)
But Welton caught at Bob's statement.
”All you need is one man to count cattle,” he pointed out. ”Can't you do that yourself, and send over your men?”
”Are you trying to tell me my business, Mr. Welton?” asked the Supervisor formally.
Welton laughed one of his inexpressible chuckles.
”Lord love you, no!” he cried. ”I have all I can handle. I'm merely trying to protect my own. Can't you hire some men, then?”
”My appropriation won't stand it,” said Plant, a gleam coming into his eye. ”I simply haven't the money to pay them with.” He paused significantly.
”How much would it take?” inquired Welton.
Plant cast his eyes to the ceiling.
”Of course, I couldn't tell, because I don't know how much of a fire it is, or how long it would take to corral it. But I'll tell you what I'll do: suppose you leave me a lump sum, and I'll look after such matters hereafter without having to bother you with them. Of course, when I have rangers available I'll use 'em; but any time you need protection, I can rush in enough men to handle the situation without having to wait for authorizations and all that. It might not take anything extra, of course.”
”How much do you suppose it would require to be sure we don't run short?” asked Welton.
”Oh, a thousand dollars ought to last indefinitely,” replied Plant.
The two men stared at each other for a moment. Then Welton laughed.
”I can hire a heap of men for a thousand dollars,” said he, rising.
”Goodnight.”
Plant rumbled something. The two went out, leaving the fat man chewing his cigar and scowling angrily after them.
Once clear of the premises Welton laughed loudly.
”Well, my son, that's your first shy at the government official, isn't it? They're not all as bad as that. At first I couldn't make out whether he was just fat and lazy. Now I know he's a grafter. He ought to get a nice neat 'For Sale' sign painted. Did you hear the nerve of him? Wanted a thousand dollars bribe to do his plain duty.”
”Oh, that was what he was driving at!” cried Bob.
”Yes, Baby Blue-eyes, didn't you tumble to that? Well, I don't see a thousand in it whether he's for us or against us.”
”Was that the reason he didn't send over all his men to the fire?” asked Bob.
”Partly. Princ.i.p.ally because he wanted to help old Simeon Wright's men in with the cattle. Simeon probably has a ninety-nine year lease on his fat carca.s.s--with the soul thrown in for a trading stamp. It don't take but one man to count cattle, but three extra cowboys comes mighty handy in the timber.”
”Would Wright bribe him, do you suppose?”
Welton stopped short.
”Let me tell you one thing about old Simeon, Bob,” said he. ”He owns more land than any other man in California. He got it all from the government. Eight sections on one of his ranches he took up under the Swamp Act by swearing he had been all over them in a boat. He had. The boat was drawn by eight mules. That's just a sample. You bet Simeon owns a Supervisor, if he thinks he needs one; and that's why the cattle business takes precedence over the fire business.”
”It's an outrage!” cried Bob. ”We ought to report him for neglect of duty.”
Welton chuckled.