The Valley of the Giants

  CHAPTER XXIII

  Though Buck Ogilvy was gone from Sequoia for a period of three weeks,he was by no means forgotten. His secretary proved to be an industriouspress-agent who by mail, telegraph, and long-distance telephone manageddaily to keep the editor of the Sequoia Sentinel fully apprised of alldevelopments in the matter of the Northern California Oregon RailroadCompany--including some that had not as yet developed! The result wascopious and persistent publicity for the new railroad company, and thearousing in the public mind of a genuine interest in this railroad whichwas to do so much for the town of Sequoia.

  Colonel Seth Pennington was among those who, skeptical at first andinclined to ridicule the project into an early grave, eventually foundhimself swayed by the publicity and gradually coerced into seriousconsideration of the results attendant upon the building of the road.The Colonel was naturally as suspicious as a rattlesnake in August;hence he had no sooner emerged from the ranks of the frank scoffers thanhis alert mind framed the question:

  "How is this new road--improbable as I know it to be--going to affectthe interests of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, if the unexpectedshould happen and those bunco-steerers should actually build a roadfrom Sequoia to Grant's Pass, Oregon, and thus construct a feeder to atranscontinental line?"

  Five minutes of serious reflection sufficed to bring the Colonel to theverge of panic, notwithstanding the fact that he was ashamed of himselffor yielding to fright despite his firm belief that there was no reasonwhy he should be frightened. Similar considerations occur to a small boywho is walking home in the dark past a cemetery.

  The vital aspects of his predicament dawned on the Colonel one night atdinner, midway between the soup and the fish. So forcibly did they occurto him, in fact, that for the nonce he forgot that his niece was seatedopposite him.

  "Confound them," the Colonel murmured distinctly, "I must look into thisimmediately."

  "Look into what, Uncle dear?" Shirley asked innocently.

  "This new railroad that man Ogilvy talks of building--which means,Shirley, that with Sequoia as his starting point, he is going to builda hundred and fifty miles north to connect with the main line of theSouthern Pacific in Oregon."

  "But wouldn't that be the finest thing that could possibly happen toHumboldt County?" she demanded of him.

  "Undoubtedly it would--to Humboldt County; but to the Laguna GrandeLumber Company, in which you have something more than a sentimentalinterest, my dear, it would be a blow. A large part of the estate leftby your father is invested in Laguna Grande stock, and as you know, allof my efforts are devoted to appreciating that stock and to fightingagainst anything that has a tendency to depreciate it."

  "Which reminds me, Uncle Seth, that you never discuss with me any of thematters pertaining to my business interests," she suggested.

  He beamed upon her with his patronizing and indulgent smile. "There isno reason why you should puzzle that pretty head of yours with businessaffairs while I am alive and on the job," he answered. "However, sinceyou have expressed a desire to have this railroad situation explainedto you, I will do so. I am not interested in seeing a feeder built fromSequoia north to Grant's Pass, and connecting with the Southern Pacific,but I am tremendously interested in seeing a feeder built south fromSequoia toward San Francisco, to connect with the Northwestern Pacific."

  "Why?"

  "For cold, calculating business reasons, my dear." He hesitated a momentand then resumed: "A few months ago I would not have told you the thingsI am about to tell you, Shirley, for the reason that a few months agoit seemed to me you were destined to become rather friendly with youngCardigan. When that fellow desires to be agreeable, he can be rather alikable boy--lovable, even. You are both young; with young people whohave many things in common and are thrown together in a community likeSequoia, a lively friendship may develop into an ardent love; and ithas been my experience that ardent love not infrequently leads to thealtar."

  Shirley blushed, and her uncle chuckled good-naturedly. "Fortunately,"he continued, "Bryce Cardigan had the misfortune to show himself toyou in his true colours, and you had the good sense to dismiss him.Consequently I see no reason why I should not explain to you now whatI considered it the part of wisdom to withhold from you at thattime--provided, of course, that all this does not bore you toextinction."

  "Do go on, Uncle Seth. I'm tremendously interested," averred Shirley.

  "Shortly after I launched the Laguna Grande Lumber Company--in which, asyour guardian and executor of your father's estate, I deemed it wise toinvest part of your inheritance--I found myself forced to seek furtherfor sound investments for your surplus funds. Now, good timber,bought cheap, inevitably will be sold dear. At least, such has been myobservation during a quarter of a century--and old John Cardiganhad some twenty thousand acres of the finest redwood timber in theState--timber which had cost him an average price of less than fiftycents per thousand.

  "Well, in this instance the old man had overreached himself, and findingit necessary to increase his working capital, he incorporated hisholdings into the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company and floated abond-issue of a million dollars. They were twenty-year six per cent.certificates; the security was ample, and I invested for you threehundred thousand dollars in Cardigan bonds. I bought them at eighty, andthey were worth two hundred; at least, they would have been worth twohundred under my management--"

  "How did you manage to buy them so cheap?" she interrupted.

  "Old Cardigan had had a long run of bad luck--due to bad management andbad judgment, my dear--and when a corporation is bonded, the bondholdershave access to its financial statements. From time to time I discoveredbondholders who needed money and hence unloaded at a sacrifice; but byfar the majority of the bonds I purchased for your account were owned bylocal people who had lost confidence in John Cardigan and the future ofthe redwood lumber industry hereabouts. You understand, do you not?"

  "I do not understand what all this has to do with a railroad."

  "Very well--I shall proceed to explain." He held up his index finger."Item one: For years old John Cardigan has rendered valueless, becauseinaccessible, twenty-five hundred acres of Laguna Grande timber on SquawCreek. His absurd Valley of the Giants blocks the outlet, and of coursehe persisted in refusing me a right of way through that little dab oftimber in order to discourage me and force me to sell him that SquawCreek timber at his price."

  "Yes," Shirley agreed, "I dare say that was his object. Was itreprehensible of him, Uncle Seth?"

  "Not a bit, my dear. He was simply playing the cold game of business.I would have done the same thing to Cardigan had the situation beenreversed. We played a game together--and I admit that he won, fairly andsquarely."

  "Then why is it that you feel such resentment against him?"

  "Oh, I don't resent the old fool, Shirley. He merely annoys me. Isuppose I feel a certain natural chagrin at having been beaten, and inconsequence cherish an equally natural desire to pay the old schemerback in his own coin. Under the rules as we play the game, such actionon my part is perfectly permissible, is it not?"

  "Yes," she agreed frankly, "I think it is, Uncle Seth. Certainly, if heblocked you and rendered your timber valueless, there is no reason why,if you have the opportunity, you should not block him--and render histimber valueless."

  The Colonel banged the table with his fist so heartily that the silverfairly leaped. "Spoken like a man!" he declared. "I HAVE the opportunityand am proceeding to impress the Cardigans with the truth of the oldsaying that every dog must have his day. When Cardigan's contract withour road for the hauling of his logs expires by limitation next year, Iam not going to renew it--at least not until I have forced him to makeme the concessions I desire, and certainly not at the present ruinousfreight-rate."

  "Then," said Shirley eagerly, "if you got a right of way through hisValley of the Giants, you would renew the contract he has with you forthe hauling of his logs, would you not?"

  "I would have, before young Cardiga
n raised such Hades that day inthe logging-camp, before old Cardigan sold his Valley of the Giants toanother burglar--and before I had gathered indubitable evidence thatneither of the Cardigans knows enough about managing a sawmill andselling lumber to guarantee a reasonable profit on the capital theyhave invested and still pay the interest on their bonded and floatingindebtedness. Shirley, I bought those Cardigan bonds for you becauseI thought old Cardigan knew his business and would make the bondsvaluable--make them worth par. Instead, the Cardigan Redwood LumberCompany is tottering on the verge of bankruptcy; the bonds I purchasedfor you are now worth less than I paid for them, and by next year theCardigans will default on the interest.

  "So I'm going to sit tight and decline to have any more businessdealings with the Cardigans. When their hauling contract expires, Ishall not renew it under any circumstances; that will prevent themfrom getting logs, and so they will automatically go out of the lumberbusiness and into the hands of a receiver; and since you are the largestindividual stockholder, I, representing you and a number of minorbondholders, will dominate the executive committee of the bondholderswhen they meet to consider what shall be done when the Cardigans defaulton their interest and the payment due the sinking fund. I shall thenhave myself appointed receiver for the Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company,investigate its affairs thoroughly, and see for myself whether or nothere is a possibility of working it out of the jam it is in and savingyou a loss on your bonds.

  "I MUST pursue this course, my dear, in justice to you and the otherbondholders. If, on the other hand, I find the situation hopeless orconclude that a period of several years must ensue before the Cardiganswork out of debt, I shall recommend to the bank which holds the deed oftrust and acts as trustee, that the property be sold at public auctionto the highest bidder to reimburse the bondholders. Of course," hehastened to add, "if the property sells for more than the corporationowes such excess will then in due course be turned over to theCardigans."

  "Is it likely to sell at a price in excess of the indebtedness?" Shirleyqueried anxiously.

  "It is possible, but scarcely probable," he answered dryly. "I have inmind, under those circumstances, bidding the property in for the LagunaGrande Lumber Company and merging it with our holdings, paying part ofthe purchase-price of the Cardigan property in Cardigan bonds, and theremainder in cash."

  "But what will the Cardigans do then, Uncle Seth?"

  "Well, long before the necessity for such a contingency arises, theold man will have been gathered to the bosom of Abraham; and after theCardigan Redwood Lumber Company has ceased to exist, young Cardigan cango to work for a living."

  "Would you give him employment, Uncle Seth?"

  "I would not. Do you think I'm crazy, Shirley? Remember, my dear,there is no sentiment in business. If there was, we wouldn't have anybusiness."

  "I think I understand, Uncle Seth--with the exception of what effect thebuilding of the N. C. O. has upon your plans."

  "Item two," he challenged, and ticked it off on his middle finger. "TheCardigan Redwood Lumber Company owns two fine bodies of redwoodtimber widely separated--one to the south of Sequoia in the San Hedrinwatershed and at present practically valueless because inaccessible, andthe other to the north of Sequoia, immediately adjoining our holdingsin Township Nine and valuable because of its accessibility." He pauseda moment and looked at her smilingly, "The logging railroad of ourcorporation, the Laguna Grande Lumber Company, makes it accessible. Now,while the building of the N.C.O. would be a grand thing for the countyin general, we can get along without it because it doesn't help us outparticularly. We already have a railroad running from our timber totidewater, and we can reach the markets of the world with our ships."

  "I think I understand, Uncle Seth. When Cardigan's hauling contract withour road expires, his timber in Township Nine will depreciate in valuebecause it will no longer be accessible, while our timber, being stillaccessible, retains its value."

  "Exactly. And to be perfectly frank with you, Shirley, I do notwant Cardigan's timber in Township Nine given back its value throughaccessibility provided by the N.C.O. If that road is not built,Cardigan's timber in Township Nine will be valuable to us, but not toanother living soul. Moreover, the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company hasa raft of fine timber still farther north and adjoining the holdingsof our company and Cardigan's, and if this infernal N.C.O. isn't built,we'll be enabled to buy that Trinidad timber pretty cheap one of thesebright days, too."

  "All of which appears to me to constitute sound business logic, UncleSeth."

  He nodded. "Item three," he continued, and ticked it off on his thirdfinger: "I want to see the feeder for a transcontinental line built intoSequoia from the south, for the reason that it will tap the Cardiganholdings in the San Hedrin watershed and give a tremendous valueto timber which at the present time is rather a negative asset;consequently I would prefer to have that value created after Cardigan'sSan Hedrin timber has been merged with the assets of the Laguna GrandeLumber Company."

  "And so--"

  "I must investigate this N.C.O. outfit and block it if possible--and itshould be possible."

  "How, for instance?"

  "I haven't considered the means, my dear. Those come later. For thepresent I am convinced that the N.C.O. is a corporate joke, sprung onthe dear public by the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company to get the saiddear public excited, create a real-estate boom, and boost timber-values.Before the boom collapses--a condition which will follow the collapse ofthe N.C.O.--the Trinidad people hope to sell their holdings and get fromunder."

  "Really," said Shirley, demurely, "the more I see of business, the morefascinating I find it."

  "Shirley, it's the grandest game in the world."

  "And yet," she added musingly, "old Mr. Cardigan is so blind andhelpless."

  "They'll be saying that about me some day if I live to be as old as JohnCardigan."

  "Nevertheless, I feel sorry for him, Uncle Seth."

  "Well, if you'll continue to waste your sympathy on him rather than onhis son, I'll not object," he retorted laughingly.

  "Oh, Bryce Cardigan is able to take care of himself."

  "Yes, and mean enough."

  "He saved our lives, Uncle Seth."

  "He had to--in order to save his own. Don't forget that, my dear."Carefully he dissected a sand-dab and removed the backbone. "I'd givea ripe peach to learn the identity of the scheming buttinsky who boughtold Cardigan's Valley of the Giants," he said presently. "I'll be hangedif that doesn't complicate matters a little."

  "You should have bought it when the opportunity offered," she remindedhim. "You could have had it then for fifty thousand dollars less thanyou would have paid for it a year ago--and I'm sure that should havebeen sufficient indication to you that the game you and the Cardiganshad been playing so long had come to an end. He was beaten andacknowledged it, and I think you might have been a little more generousto your fallen enemy, Uncle Seth."

  "I dare say," he admitted lightly. "However, I wasn't, and now I'm goingto be punished for it, my dear: so don't roast me any more. By theway, that speckled hot-air fellow Ogilvy, who is promoting the NorthernCalifornia Oregon Railroad, is back in town again. Somehow, I haven'tmuch confidence in that fellow. I think I'll wire the San Franciscooffice to look him up in Dun's and Bradstreet's. Folks up this way aretaking too much for granted on that fellow's mere say--so, but I forone intend to delve for facts--particularly with regard to the N.C.O.bank-roll and Ogilvy's associates. I'd sleep a whole lot more soundlyto-night if I knew the answer to two very important questions."

  "What are they, Uncle Seth?"

  "Well, I'd like to know whether the N.C.O. is genuine or a screen tohide the operations of the Trinidad Redwood Timber Company."

  "It might," said Shirley, with one of those sudden flashes of intuitionpeculiar to women, "be a screen to hide the operations of BryceCardigan. Now that he knows you aren't going to renew his haulingcontract, he may have decided to build his own logging railroad."


  After a pause the Colonel made answer: "No, I have no fear of that. Itwould cost five hundred thousand dollars to build that twelve-mileline and bridge Mad River, and the Cardigans haven't got that amount ofmoney. What's more, they can't get it."

  "But suppose," she persisted, "that the real builder of the road shouldprove to be Bryce Cardigan, after all. What would you do?"

  Colonel Pennington's eyes twinkled. "I greatly fear, my dear, I shouldmake a noise like something doing."

  "Suppose you lost the battle."

  "In that event the Laguna Grande Lumber Company wouldn't be any worseoff than it is at present. The principal loser, as I view the situation,would be Miss Shirley Sumner, who has the misfortune to be loaded upwith Cardigan bonds. And as for Bryce Cardigan--well, that young manwould certainly know he'd been through a fight."

  "I wonder if he'll fight to the last, Uncle Seth."

  "Why, I believe he will," Pennington replied soberly.

  "I'd love to see you beat him."

  "Shirley! Why, my dear, you're growing ferocious." Her uncle's toneswere laden with banter, but his countenance could not conceal thepleasure her last remark had given him.

  "Why not? I have something at stake, have I not?"

  "Then you really want me to smash him?" The Colonel's voice proclaimedhis incredulity.

  "You got me into this fight by buying Cardigan bonds for me," shereplied meaningly, "and I look to you to save the investment or asmuch of it as possible; for certainly, if it should develop that theCardigans are the real promoters of the N.C.O., to permit them to goanother half-million dollars into debt in a forlorn hope of saving acompany already top-heavy with indebtedness wouldn't savor of commonbusiness sense. Would it?"

  The Colonel rose hastily, came around the table, and kissed herpaternally. "My dear," he murmured, "you're such a comfort to me. Uponmy word, you are."

  "I'm so glad you have explained the situation to me, Uncle Seth."

  "I would have explained it long ago had I not cherished a sneakingsuspicion that--er--well, that despite everything, young Cardiganmight--er--influence you against your better judgment and--er--mine."

  "You silly man!"

  He shrugged. "One must figure every angle of a possible situation, mydear, and I should hesitate to start something with the Cardigans, andhave you, because of foolish sentiment, call off my dogs."

  Shirley thrust out her adorable chin aggressively. "Sick 'em. Tige!" sheanswered. "Shake 'em up, boy!"

  "You bet I'll shake 'em up," the Colonel declared joyously. Hepaused with a morsel of food on his fork and waved the fork at heraggressively. "You stimulate me into activity, Shirley. My mind has beensingularly dull of late; I have worried unnecessarily, but now that Iknow you are with me, I am inspired. I'll tell you how we'll fix thisnew railroad, if it exhibits signs of being dangerous." Again he smotethe table. "We'll sew 'em up tighter than a new buttonhole."

  "Do tell me how," she pleaded eagerly.

  "I'll block them on their franchise to run over the city streets ofSequoia."

  "How?"

  "By making the mayor and the city council see things my way," heanswered dryly. "Furthermore, in order to enter Sequoia, the N. C. O.will have to cross the tracks of the Laguna Grande Lumber Company's lineon Water Street--make a jump-crossing--and I'll enjoin them and holdthem up in the courts till the cows come home."

  "Uncle Seth, you're a wizard."

  "Well, at least I'm no slouch at looking after my own interests--andyours, Shirley. In the midst of peace we should be prepared for war.You've met Mayor Poundstone and his lady, haven't you?"

  "I had tea at her house last week."

  "Good news. Suppose you invite her and Poundstone here for dinner somenight this week. Just a quiet little family dinner, Shirley, and afterdinner you can take Mrs. Poundstone upstairs, on some pretext or other,while I sound Poundstone out on his attitude toward the N. C. O. Theyhaven't asked for a franchise yet; at least, the Sentinel hasn't printeda word about it;--but when they do, of course the franchise will beadvertised for sale to the highest bidder. Naturally, I don't want tobid against them; they might run the price up on me and leave me witha franchise on my hands--something I do not want, because I have no usefor the blamed thing myself. I feel certain, however, I can find someless expensive means of keeping them out of it--say by convincingPoundstone and a majority of the city council that the N. C. O. is notsuch a public asset as its promoters claim for it. Hence I think it wiseto sound the situation out in advance, don't you, my dear?"

  She nodded. "I shall attend to the matter, Uncle Seth."

  Five minutes after dinner was over, Shirley joined her uncle in thelibrary and announced that His Honor, the Mayor, and Mrs. Poundstone,would be delighted to dine with them on the following Thursday night.