oil being poured from a very full barrel.
"You see," continued the Honorable Ambercrombie
Hergan, "it's this way. There is a broker in Chicago who is a friend of mine. I saved him from the jug when he was a kid, and he never forgot it. Well, he went to Chicago, raked together a bunch of money, and bought a seat in the Stock Exchange. He was lucky, and now he is away up. He is on the inside, and he says that there is going to be a big raise in oil stocks; that the Standard Oil Company has been forcing it down in order to squeeze out the little dealers, and that they are right now at the bottom, and when they let go, it will fly back to a dollar."
At this point in the narrative, Crawley murmured "Yes," then leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was not quite ready to puncture Mr. Hergan's balloon, and it was not his way to offer objections to unfinished propositions.
"Now," said Hergan, leaning over and resting his arms on the table, "the plan is to form a big pool and buy oil, and make enough at one haul to go back to civilization and live like a king. That is the scheme, boys. It's good." First Class Crawley opened his eyes slowly, and putting out his fat hand, began to caress the green cloth on the little round poker table.
"Billy," he said slowly, "I expect that is a good scheme, and I expect there is money in it,—may be tubs of money, but me and Martin aint speculators; we never so much as saw a ticking machine in our life. We don't know anything about new-fangled ways to get rich. We're both old fogies,—just common old fogies, and I reckon we had better stay out. Of course, I aint knocking on the scheme. It looks good, mighty good, but me and Martin aint young any longer; we're getting old and heavy on our pins, and we aint got no nerve like we used to have. Still I aint knocking. Me and Martin would like to see you make a pile of money, would n't we, Martin?"
"Yes," gurgled the owner of the Golden Horn, "we would that."
The Honorable Ambercrombie Hergan straightened up and thrust his hands into his pockets. "Of course, boys," he said, "it's a gamble, but it's a ten-to-one shot better than a faro bank. If it goes our way, we will have all kinds of money; if it goes the other way, we are skinned to a standstill. I am tired of little gambles, and I am going to make one big play if I eat snowballs for the next twenty years. I would like to have you boys in, but if you don't believe that the thing is easy to beat, you can stay out."
An inspiration came to First Class Crawley, and he seized it with the avidity of a shark. "Billy," he said, with amiable confidence, "you have no better friends in this here country' than me and Martin—has he, Martin?"
"No," muttered the fat owner of the oleaginous voice, "he aint."
"And me and Martin," the proprietor went on, "would go in anything in the world that you wanted us to go in, and it would n't make no difference to us what it was, if you said it was a good thing. But me and Martin are pretty nigh sixty, and if we would go broke, we could never get on our feet no more. We are skeery, Billy; me and Martin are skeery, but we are ready to do anything for you that we can. We are ready to help you any way you want to be helped, because you are dead game, Billy,—that's what you are—you're dead game."
The wary Hiram Martin was totally in the dark as to what Crawley was probing for, but he had unlimited confidence in the proprietor of the Emporium, and he assented blandly. Crawley, he knew, followed no cold trail; Crawley worked no salted lead, and if he stooped to "crook the pregnant hinges of the knee," there was something in it for Crawley, and at no great distance.
"Well," responded the Secretary of State,
"I am obliged to you both, but I guess there is nothing I need just now. Of course, I, have got to raise a bunch of money for this deal, but I sort of arranged that in New York."
The ulterior motive of Crawley was now quite clear to the owner of the Golden Horn. Hergan would require money,—perhaps a large sum for his venture. If good security could be given, there was no reason why they should not advance the cash at a large and comfortable discount.
The officer of the Commonwealth moved his chair back from the table as an indication that the secret conference was at an end. As he did so, the proprietor of the Emporium leaned over and spread out his fat hands on the green cloth.
"Billy, old man," he said, in a voice that indicated gentle reproach, "there was no necessity for you to go among strangers to raise any money you wanted; me and Martin have saved up a little, and me and Martin would be glad to let you have it if it is any accommodation, would n't we, Martin?"
First Class Crawley failed to add that both he and Martin would require the trifling detail of a substantial surety, but they concluded shrewdly that if Hergan could raise money in New York, he had obtained some first-class support, and if this security were sufficient for an Eastern bank, it was amply sufficient for all purposes known to commerce. Hence the apparently unconcerned Martin consented most amiably.
The Honorable Ambercrombie Hergan settled back in his chair and grew thoughtful. "I aint closed the loan," he said, after some little consideration, "and I would just as leave borrow it of you, boys. The fact is, I would a little rather borrow it of you. I am paying pretty stiff for the money, and I would rather pay my friends than the Yankees in the East."
"Yes," observed the unctuous mining magnate, although he had not intended to speak at all.
"But," continued the Secretary of State, "I reckon you would n't like to put up as much as I need. I am going to crowd the bank this once."
"Well, Billy," drawled the proprietor of the Emporium, "I expect me and Martin can make it up for you. If we aint got enough, we can get some around and piece out. Least ways, we will try. About what sum might you need?"
"I reckon," responded Hergan, "that I shall want about fifty thousand."
The hands of Hiram Martin tightened over his stomach, and for a moment Crawley studied the ceiling with placid indifference. He had turned Hergan into his own channel, and the transaction being assured, it was now the part of wisdom to affect gravity. Presently he spoke, slowly and anxiously: "That's a powerful big wad of money. Still, me and Martin——" Here he stopped short and turned to his companion.
"Powerful big," echoed the mine owner, and volunteered no further observation. He understood First Class Crawley as few men are understood, and such observations were quite useless between them, except for the effect upon the victim at hand.
"Still," continued the proprietor of the Emporium, "I expect we can raise it some way. About what terms do you allow on?"
"I guess thirty days will be long enough," responded Hergan. "Thirty days at twelve per cent, is how I have been figuring it."
"Yes," drawled the gambling king, "and the security?"
"Well," said the Secretary of State, "I have calculated to give the Governor and Culverson."
"They are good, I reckon," observed the wary Crawley. "Aint they good, Martin?"
"Might be worse," responded the oily owner of the Golden Horn, "but it aint that. It's the rate. Seems like mighty little on a short loan."
"It is mighty little," continued Crawley, after a silence of some moments. "We would have to give more than that for what we borrowed 'round. There would n't be nothing in it for us, Billy,—not a cent to me and Martin."
"I tell you what I'll do," put in the Honorable Ambercrombie Hergan, abruptly, as though the idea was new and sudden in its coming, "I'll give you twelve per cent, for the money for a month, and I will enter into an agreement to turn over to you two one-eighth of what I win on the gamble."
Crawley was very grave. The proposition pleased him hugely, but emotions found no expression with him. To loan fifty thousand dollars on good security at an enormous rate of interest, and in addition to have a substantial share in a speculation without standing to lose a cent, was a condition of affairs not likely to arise with much regularity in the span of a gambler's precarious life. Yet Crawley was not anxious. To the spectator he was sad and unconcerned. He knew quite well that this proposition was Hergan's ultimatum, and he was going to accept, but desired to appear to accept rather as a matter of kindly feeling toward