OCR Text |
Show - WATER, ftwk B!j J.ALLAN DUNN A J AUTHOR. ef "aMANI TO HIS MATE' -tfJL fcM A "RIMROCK TRAIL JP NSw- ml COPYRIGHT WVJ f DODO. MEAD and CO. pj Jp take the car over on the ferry and run down to San Jose and bHck." "Just the two of us7" "Yes, you double-dyed Pnrltan, Just the two of us, all by our lonelies. 4re you on?" At three o'clock they were bowling south along an almost perfect road when Baxter grudgingly slowed down in obedience to a signboard that Informed In-formed them they were approaching the town of Paloma. "I'm feeling much better," he an- j nounced. "Want to take the wheel for a while and let me smoke?" They changed seats. "I've got to trim down on these," Baxter said, lighting his cigarette. "The pump needs repacking," he went on, tapping himself over the heart. "And it can't be done. They turned me down for that. Told me I had a banquet-heart and that the excitement of sticking a Heine might end it. It's the old C and C. Champagne and cigarettes! cig-arettes! Jack Cox got in but I stayed out. Made me feel like a slacker." "Why don't you cut the stuff, Ted?" "It isn't going to last long enough. At present I prefer the vineyard to the lemon grove. I'm no good at business busi-ness anyway. I'm a grasshopper and I'll hop till the grass gets too short and things dry up generally." "This sort of tiling you've got on tonight. to-night. Ted? Aren't you afraid you'll wind up in some sort of a mess?" "I'm immune. It's good fun. The girls I travel with know how to take care of themselves. It's a two-sided game. If I met the right girl Oh, what's the use? You see, Cal, the mater is chipping off a chunk of her principal princi-pal every year. She flies high herself. If I outlast her, which is doubtful, there won't be much coming to me. I suppose she's right. I've got to marry money, but the girls with money are either too blase, too businesslike or too homely and stupid. No use preaching preach-ing to me, Cal. You're born an ant and I'm a cicada, which is Callfornese for grasshopper." They reached the apartment house at five o'clock and Caleb proceeded to dress circumspectly for the dinner while his friend laid out more sumptuous sumptu-ous raiment. "You'll be. home tonight?" asked Pnlph you mentioned? What were you doing? do-ing? Where were you doing it?" "Building roads and bridges. Repairing Re-pairing a lot more. Some trench work." "Ah !" Caleb was sure that a gleam of new interest came into Cox's eyes. "You served over there. Any rank?" "I came out a first lieutenant." Cox nodded. "It was a great training ground," he said. "No time wasted there, to my mind. Gave a young man a broader horizon, taught him to handle men. My boy was over there." He hesitated hesi-tated as Baxter came back, "tie's due here at five-thirty," he went on. "I imagine you'd get on well together. Better join us at dinner. You too, Baxter." ' "Got to excuse me," said Baxter. "Previous appointment. Sorry." One of the members of the luncheon party had been hovering somewhat impatiently in the background, evidently evi-dently waiting for Cox. The latter saw him and nodded. "Got to go now," he said. "See you at five-thirty, Warner, then." Caleb watched the tall figure as It strode off, energetic, masterful, listening listen-ing to what the other had to say, dismissing dis-missing It with an abrupt gesture. He turned to Baxter. "That man is a fighter," he said. "You can double that bet. They're all fighters, scrapping for everything In sight, fighting to get it, fighting to hold on to it. That's the essence of WILBUR COX Synopsis. Idly fishing fier-manos fier-manos creek, in California, Caleb Warner, civil engineer, and a New Englander, is witness of the end of a coyote pulled down by two wolfhounds, urged on by a firlrl rider. Admiring the hounds, he introduces himself, and learns her name is Clinton. With western west-ern hospitality she invites him to the ranch to meet her father. At the Clinton home Warner learns his new friend's name is Betty. He is welcomed by her father, Southern Civil war veteran veter-an and owner, of He.rmanos val-i val-i ley. Warner tells them some- m thing of his ambitions and his feeling that he Is destined to be a "Water-Bearer." In the town of Golden Warner shares an apartment with his old Columbia college chum, Ted Baxter, carefree care-free and somewhat dissipated youth, only child of his widowed mother, who controls the family fortune. CHAPTER III Continued 4 ' "There's Wilbur Cox," he said. "That's a Big Business crowd. Morse, on the right of Cox, is head of the Lumber ring, then comes Towle, president presi-dent of the Sundown railroad. , Mar-lin's Mar-lin's next, he opens up big tracts for colonist development. Lawler is an oil magnate and the last one is Win-ton, Win-ton, manager of the Golden Light and Power company. They come close to running Golden and a-good share of the state as well. I don't know how their bank balances stand, but you can bet that the six of them represent several times that number of million dollars in active circulation with their interests." Caleb regarded Cox with special attention. at-tention. He knew that he owned big land holdings, controlled rich mines and was the president and mainspring of the Crystal Springs Water, company tjjat supplied Golden with its commercial commer-cial and civic measure of the vital fluid. lie saw a man who might have been anywhere from fifty to sixty, tall, spare, with close-trimmed hair gray above the ears, clean-shaven, with a fine forehead and a well-shaped skull, a projecting nose, keen gray eyes, a genial mouth and a firm -chin. He told many of the stories that met with the greatest laughter, for the group was a care-free one, for the moment at least. Their luncheon was almost over and, when Cox rose at Its conclusion, con-clusion, he did so with an ease that spoke of muscles still in prime condition. condi-tion. If Caleb had wanted to sum up the man In one crisp word he would have chosen the adjective "fit." "No need to hurry," Baxter said. "The old boy's son Is coming up this afternoon from Los Angeles and I know Cox has arranged for a dinner here tonight. If you can get in right with Cox, Cal, the going should be easy. I can give you the Introduction. Introduc-tion. After tliat It's up to you. Cox doesn't take me very seriously." Leaving the dining' room, they met Cox alone, coining from the direction of the club's telephone booths. Baxter Bax-ter seized the moment. "I want a friend of mine to meet you," lie said to the older man, speaking speak-ing with the frank facility that was one of his greatest assets, met by Cox with a sort of half:tolerant geniality. "This Is Caleb Warner, one-time class-. class-. mate of mine at Columbia, civil engineer, engi-neer, following the Star of Empire westward in the hope of hitching his f wagon to It. Don't let my friendship with him prejudice you against him. He plays ant to my grasshopper." Cox smiled as he gripped Caleb's hand cordially enough, giving him a direct glance that, In kindly but determined deter-mined fashion, seemed to measure him. "Glad to meet you," lie said. "Plenty of room out bere for civil engineers. Any specialty?" "Water," Caleb answered promptly. The eyes of Cox seemed to harden a little, to hold a hint of suspicion at the pat answer that might have been calculated to awaken interest. "Done much at It?" "A factory dam or two. One reservoir reser-voir for town supply. Back East. The rest of my practical experience has been along other lines for the last two years hut I am especially Interested Inter-ested In water-engineering and the West seemed to he the place." "Looking for a Job?" Cox fired out t lie questions briskly, all the while covering Caleb with the battery of his eyes. "For any real opportunity, Mr. Cox." A servant came up Willi a salver J and presented it to Baxter. lie glanced at the filled-In form-message and excused himself. "Vou'll pardon me. I'm wanted on :no pnone. Cox looked after him with numerous quirk to his mouth. "There goes the grasshopper," he said. "Now then, these last two years "I'll be home when the game's over," answered Baxter enigmatically. "This is Saturday night. We may take a little trip to Lake county. Don't bother about me. Off to your business, busi-ness, ant !" CHAPTER IV Big Business Jack Cox turned out so close a replica of his father less weathered, less bitten by Time and Experience but nevertheless so evident a chip of the old block, that Caleb almost doubted Baxter's description of him as a reformed wastrel. He had been through the furnace of the war and, whatever of steel had been In him had been tempered, the baser metals burned to slag and discarded. Caleb had seen others in his own division of the fighting game who had stiffened and found their manhood in like fashion.- Caleb liked him from the outset. The man had qualities that he lacked, the same western broadness .that Baxter possessed in more volatile fashion. But, though trolleys and water dams seem far apart to the laity, a mutual profession based both of them. Caleb found the preliminary story of Imperial Im-perial valley vastly Interesting and Jack Cox told it well, albeit he had had no hand in those earlier stages of development. It was the tale of the bringing back of an arid sink, once under cultivation by the Indians, of the harnessing of the' mighty Colorado, Colo-rado, one terrific fight with flood waters wa-ters and now cotton fields, and vineyards, vine-yards, wide acres of cantaloupes, horticulture and agriculture in every branch ; order, industry, prosperity. Caleb listened with interest and understanding. un-derstanding. "There is only one Imperial valley, perhaps," said Cox, "but there are ether deserts with so'.l just as fertile, waiting only for the magic touch of water. Your end of it the water end is t lie initial move in the game, mine is the last. You play Alpha to my Omega." "If I get the chance," said Caleb. "Oh, you'll get it. The. chances are everywhere. If a man knows his business, busi-ness, and wants to work at It, there's no trouble about Opportunity. Her knuckles must be raw on the Pacific coast. She knocks unceasingly," laughed Cox. The Coxes' father and son, j appear to be solid folk. Is Caleb Ca-leb Warner's lot to be cast with them? . (TO BE CONTINUED.) "Water," Caleb Answered Promptly. Big Business, I take it, everywhere. They have their rules, of course, but they sometimes slip one over beneath the belt, at that. But they've never told the count over Cox. How did he come to Invite you to dinner? Not to mention me? I'd fit in there about as well as a goldfish in a shark-pond not worth gobbling but, if I glittered enough, they might know I was among those present." "I don't think he took any sudden fancy to me," Caleb answered. "He warmed up a little when he heard I had been across. Thought his boy might like to meet me." "Of course. I'm a chump. Jack Cox is the apple of his father's eye, all the more so because Pa Cox had good reasons to suppose said apple was worm-eaten. You think I'm inclined in-clined to burn the trail. Man. beside Jack Cox I was as a Ford to a Rolls Uoyce! He was in more mix-ups with wine, women and song than Don Juan ever dreamed of. Compared to him I'm an amateur. Or was. The war changed all that. Jack's come back a changed leopard. Not a spot on him. Following in his dad's footsteps." He broke olT abruptly. "How about a little air this afternoon? I think the breeze would favor my fevered brow. I want to be fit for tonight. We'll |