The Rules of the Game

  II

  Welton strode away into the darkness, followed closely by Bob. He madehis way as rapidly as he could through the village to an attractivehouse at the farther outskirts. Here he turned through the picket gate,and thundered on the door.

  It was almost immediately opened by a meek-looking woman of thirty.

  "Plant in?" demanded Welton.

  The meek woman had no opportunity to reply.

  "Sure! Sure! Come in!" roared the Supervisor's great voice.

  They entered to find the fat man, his coat off, leaning luxuriously backin an office chair, his feet up on another, a cigar in his mouth. Hewaved a hospitable hand.

  "Sit down! Sit down!" he wheezed. "Glad to see you."

  "They tell me there's a fire over in the Stone Creek country," saidWelton.

  "So it's reported," said Plant comfortably. "I've sent a man overalready to investigate."

  "That timber adjoins ours," went on Welton. "Sending one ranger toinvestigate don't seem to help the old man a great deal."

  "Oh, it may not amount to much," disclaimed Plant vaguely.

  "But if it does amount to much, it'll be getting one devil of a start,"persisted Welton. "Why don't you send over enough men to give it afight?"

  "Haven't got 'em," replied Plant briefly.

  "There's three playing poker now, down in the first saloon," broke inBob.

  Plant looked at him coldly for ten seconds.

  "Those men are waiting to tally Wright's cattle," he condescended,naming one of the most powerful of the valley ranch kings.

  But Welton caught at Bob's statement.

  "All you need is one man to count cattle," he pointed out. "Can't you dothat yourself, and send over your men?"

  "Are you trying to tell me my business, Mr. Welton?" asked theSupervisor formally.

  Welton laughed one of his inexpressible chuckles.

  "Lord love you, no!" he cried. "I have all I can handle. I'm merelytrying to protect my own. Can't you hire some men, then?"

  "My appropriation won't stand it," said Plant, a gleam coming into hiseye. "I simply haven't the money to pay them with." He pausedsignificantly.

  "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 itis, or how long it would take to corral it. But I'll tell you what I'lldo: suppose you leave me a lump sum, and I'll look after such mattershereafter without having to bother you with them. Of course, when I haverangers available I'll use 'em; but any time you need protection, I canrush in enough men to handle the situation without having to wait forauthorizations and all that. It might not take anything extra, ofcourse."

  "How much do you suppose it would require to be sure we don't runshort?" 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 chewinghis 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'tit? They're not all as bad as that. At first I couldn't make out whetherhe was just fat and lazy. Now I know he's a grafter. He ought to get anice neat 'For Sale' sign painted. Did you hear the nerve of him? Wanteda 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 athousand 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?" askedBob.

  "Partly. Principally because he wanted to help old Simeon Wright's menin with the cattle. Simeon probably has a ninety-nine year lease on hisfat carcass--with the soul thrown in for a trading stamp. It don't takebut one man to count cattle, but three extra cowboys comes mighty handyin 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 ownsmore land than any other man in California. He got it all from thegovernment. Eight sections on one of his ranches he took up under theSwamp Act by swearing he had been all over them in a boat. He had. Theboat was drawn by eight mules. That's just a sample. You bet Simeon ownsa Supervisor, if he thinks he needs one; and that's why the cattlebusiness takes precedence over the fire business."

  "It's an outrage!" cried Bob. "We ought to report him for neglect ofduty."

  Welton chuckled.

  "I didn't tell you this to get you mad, Bobby," he drawled with hisindescribable air of good humour; "only to show you the situation. Whatdifference does it make? As for reporting to Washington! Look here, Idon't know what Plant's political backing is, but it must be 99.84 percent. pure. Otherwise, how would a man as fat as that get a job ofForest Supervisor? Why, he can't ride a horse, and it's absurd tosuppose he ever saw any of the Reserve he's in charge of."

  Welton bestirred himself to good purpose. Inside of two hours ahalf-dozen men, well-mounted and provisioned, bearing the usual tools ofthe fire-fighter, had ridden off into the growing brightness of themoon.

  "There," said the lumberman with satisfaction. "That isn't going to costmuch, and we'll feel safe. Now let's turn in."