CHAPTER XXII
Reedy Jenkins, the first night of August, sat in his office, thewindows open, the door open, the neck of his soft shirt open, and hislow shoes kicked off. But his plump, pink face was freshly shaven andmassaged and he wore two-dollar silk socks. Even in dishabille Reedyhad an air of ready money.
There had been dark days last fall when he had been so closely corneredby his creditors that it took many a writhe and a wriggle to getthrough. Nobody but himself, unless it was the dour Tom Barton, knewhow overwhelmingly he was bankrupt.
But Reedy had kept up an affable front to all his creditors and a readyexplanation. "We are all broke, everybody in same boat. Why sweatover it? Of course I've got some cotton across the line; we'll justleave it there and save the duty until it'll sell. Then I'll pay out."
He kept up this reassurance until cotton began to sell, and then hepostponed:
"Wait; we are all easier now. Got enough so I can cash in any day andhave plenty to pay all bills. But just wait until it goes a littlehigher."
And when it had gone to eight cents, eight and a half, and at lastnine, his creditors had ceased to worry him. Now that Reedy could sellout any day and liquidate, and still be worth a hundred thousand ormore, there was no hurry to collect. Nobody wants to push a man whocan pay his debts any hour. Some of them even began to lend him moremoney. He had borrowed $25,000 as a first payment on the $200,000 forthe Dillenbeck water system.
To-night Reedy had a list of figures before him again. Cotton hadtouched 9.76 to-day. Things were coming to a head. It was time to act.
Reedy had one set of figures in which 8,000 bales were multiplied byfifty and a fraction. It added $474,000. There was a column ofsmaller sums, the largest of which was, Revenue $28,000. These smallersums were totalled and subtracted from $474,000, leaving $365,000--asum over which Reedy moistened his lips. Then he multiplied 15,000acres by something and set that sum also under the $365,000 and addedagain. The total made him roll his pencil between his two plump hands.
Madrigal, the Mexican Jew, entered with a jaunty gesture, and took achair and lighted a cigarette.
"When did you get back from Guaymas?" Reedy leaned back, lighted amatch on the bottom of his chair and touched it to a plump cigar.
"Yesterday, Senor Reedy." There was always a mixture of aggressivenessand mocking freshness in Madrigal's tone and air.
"See Bondeberg?"
The Mexican nodded.
"Everything all right?"
"_Si, si._" Madrigal sometimes was American and sometimes Mexican.
"I've had a dickens of a time getting trucks," said Reedy, speaking ina low, casual tone. "But I got 'em--twenty. Be unloaded to-morrow orthe next day. I've arranged to take care of the duty. They are to besold, you understand, with an actual bill of sale to each of the twentyMexican chauffeurs you have employed."
Madrigal nodded lightly as though all of this was primer work for him.
"Have everything ready by the tenth. I think I can close up this waterdeal by that time."
As the Mexican left, Reedy reached for his telephone and called ElCentro.
"Mrs. Barnett?" Soft oiliness oozed from his voice. "This is Reedy.What are you doing this evening? Nothing? How would you like a littlespin out to the foot of the mountains to get a cool breath and watchthe moon rise?--All right. I'll be along in about thirty minutes. By,by." The words sounded almost like kisses.
"Mrs. Barnett"--Reedy slowed down the machine as they drove off acrossthe desert toward the foothills--"I owe everything to you."
The widow, all in white now--very light, cool white--felt a littleshivery thrill of pride go over her. She half simpered and tried tosound deprecating.
"Oh, you merely flatter me." She was rolling a small daintyhandkerchief in her palms.
"No, indeed!" responded Reedy, roundly. "No one can estimate theinfluence of a good woman on a man's life."
"I'm so glad"--the shivery thrill got to her throat--"if I've reallyhelped you--Reedy." It was the first time she had used his given name,although he had often urged it.
"You know," he continued, "in spite of the great opportunities forwealth here, I do not believe that I could have endured this valley ifit had not been for you. You can't imagine what it means to a man,after the disagreeable hurly-burly of the day's business, to know thereis a pure, sweet, womanly woman waiting for him on the porch."
Mrs. Barnett gulped, filled with emotion. "I do believe," she almostgushed, "men like the shy, womanly woman who keeps her place best afterall."
"They certainly do!"
"I don't see," mused Mrs. Barnett, "how a man really _could_ care for awoman who becomes so--so--well, rough and sunburned, and coarsened bysordid work--like that Chandler woman, for instance. I mean, I don'tsee how any _good_ man could care for that sort."
"Nor I," said Reedy, emphatically. He steered with one hand, and gotboth of her hands in the other.
"This year is going to be a great one for me. Cotton is already overten cents. I'll need only $25,000 more, and then I can clean up afortune for all of us."
Mrs. Barnett, still thrilling to that hand pressure, moved a littleuneasily.
"Uncle Jim has been right hard to manage for the last two times. Hewas real ugly about that last $40,000. I had to remind him how much mypoor mother did for him and how little he had done for us before hewould listen to me."
No wonder the widow quaked within her at the honour of being elected todo it all over again. It was not because she hesitated to attempt itfor so noble a man; but for the moment she was desperate for a way togo at it. She had used in the last effort every "womanly" device knownto conservative tradition for separating a man from his money. But shehesitated only a moment. A watery heart and a dry eye never won a fatloan. Undoubtedly her womanly intuition--or Providence--would show hera way.
"I'll do my best, Mr. Jenkins"--she lapsed into the formal again--"toget the loan for you. But Uncle is getting right obstinate."
"That's all right, little girl," he patted her hands. "I trust you todo it, you could move the heart of Gibraltar. And as I've promised youall the time, when I close up these deals I'm going to give youpersonally $25,000 of the profits in appreciation of your assistance.And that is not all"--he squeezed both the widow's hands a moment, thenreleased them as if by terrific resolution--"but more of that later.We must close up this prosaic business first."
The next morning at ten o'clock Jim Crill stamped up the outsidestairway, stamped through the open door and threw a check for $25,000on Reedy's desk.
"That's the last," the old gentleman snapped with finality. "And Iwant to begin to see some payments mighty quick."
Reedy smiled as the old gentleman stamped back down the stairs, proudof his own ability as a "worker." And he was not without admirationfor Mrs. Barnett's ability in that line. It would be interesting toknow how she had done it so quickly.
"If the old man knew," Reedy picked up the check and grinned at thecrabbed signature, "what this is going for, he'd drop dead withapoplexy at the foot of the stairs."
He reached for the telephone and called the freight agent:
"Are those motor trucks in yet? Good! We'll have them unloaded atonce."
There are two ways to make a lot of money perfectly honestly: One is toproduce much at a time when the product legitimately has such a highvalue that it shows a good profit. The other is to plan, invent, ororganize so as to help a great many men save a little more, or earn alittle more, and share the little with each of the many benefited. Andthere are two ways to get money wrongfully: One is by criminaldishonesty--taking under some of the multiple forms of theft what doesnot at all belong to one. The other is by moral dishonesty--forcing oraggravating acute needs, and taking an unfair advantage of them,blackmailing a man by his critical wants.
Reedy Jenkins had merely intended to be the latter. He had not plannedto produce anything, nor yet to help other men produce, but to farmot
her men's needs--get hold of something so necessary for their successthat it would force tribute from them. He planned to hold a hammerover the weakest link in others' financial deals and threaten to breakit unless they paid him double for the hammer.
Reedy indorsed Jim Crill's check, and stuck it in his vest pocket. Heliked to go into a bank and carelessly pull $25,000 checks out of hisvest pocket. Then he took from a drawer twenty letters already typed,signed them, and put them into envelopes addressed to the ranchers whobought water of the Dillenbeck Water Co.
"Now"--Reedy moistened his lips and nodded his head--"we are all set."