Scattergood Baines Part 26

"I always did cotton to round figgers," said Scattergood, comfortably.

"Let's git us a meal of vittles."

CHAPTER VI

INSURANCE THAT DID NOT LAPSE

Scattergood Baines was not a man to s.h.i.+ngle his roof before he built his foundations. He knew the value of s.h.i.+ngles, and was not without some appreciation for frescoes and porticoes and didos, but he liked to reach them in the ordinary course of logical procedure. His completed structure, according to the plans carefully printed on his brain, was the domination of Coldriver Valley through owners.h.i.+p of its means of transportation and of its water power. He wanted to be rich, not for the sake of being rich, but because a great deal of money is, aside from love or hate, the most powerful lever in the world. For five years, now, Scattergood had moved along slowly and irresistibly, buying a bit of timber here, acquiring a dam site there, taking over the stage line to the railroad twenty-four miles away, and establis.h.i.+ng a credit and a reputation for shrewdness that were worth much more to him than dollars and cents in the bank.

As a matter of fact, Scattergood had ama.s.sed considerable more money than even the gimlet eyes and whispering tongues of Coldriver had been able to credit him with. It is doubtful if anybody realized just how strong a foot-hold Scattergood was getting in that valley, but the men who came closest to it were Messrs. Crane and Keith, lumbermen, who were beginning to experience a feeling of growing irritation toward the fat hardware merchant. They were irritated because, every now and then, they found themselves shut off from the water, or from a bit of timber, or from some other desirable property, by some small holding of Scattergood's which seemed to have dropped into just the right spot to create the maximum amount of trouble for them. It could be nothing but chance, they told each other, for they had sat in judgment on Scattergood, and their judgment had been that he was a lazy lout with more than a fair share of luck.

"It's nothing but luck," Crane told his partner. "The man hasn't a brain in his head--just a big lump of fat."

"But he's always getting in the way--and he does seem to know a water-power site when he sees it."

"Anybody does," said Crane. "He's a doggone nuisance and we might as well settle with him one time as another--and the time to settle is before his luck gives him a genuine strangle hold on this valley. We've got too much timber on these hills to take any risks."

"I leave it with you, Crane. You're the outside man. But when you bust him, bust him good."

Crane retired to his office and devoted his head to the subject exclusively, and because Crane's head was that sort of head he devised an enterprise which, if Scattergood could be made to involve himself in it, would result in the extinction of that gentleman in the Coldriver Valley.

It was a week later that a gentleman, whose clothes and bearing guaranteed him to be a genuine denizen of the city, stopped at Scattergood's store. Scattergood was sitting, as usual, on the piazza, in his especially reinforced chair, laying in wait for somebody to whom he could sell a bit of hardware, no matter how small.

"Good morning," said the gentleman. "Is this Mr. Scattergood Baines?"

"It's Scattergood Baines, all right. Don't call to mind bein' christened Mister."

"My name is Blossom."

"Perty name," said Scattergood, unsmilingly.

"I wonder if I can have a little talk with you, Mr. Baines?"

"Havin' it, hain't you?"

Mr. Blossom smiled appreciatively, and sat down beside Scattergood. "I'm interested in the new Higgins's Bridge Pulp Company. You've heard of it, haven't you?"

"Some," said Scattergood. "Some."

"We are starting to build our mill. It will be the largest in America, with the most modern machinery. Now we're looking about for somebody to supply us spruce cut to the proper length for pulpwood. You own considerable spruce, do you not?"

"Calc'late to have t.i.tle to a tree or two."

"Good. I came up to find out if you are in a position to swing a rather big contract--to deliver us at the mill a minimum of twenty-five thousand cords of pulpwood?"

"Depends," said Scattergood.

Mr. Blossom drew a jackknife from his pocket and began leisurely to sharpen a pencil. It was a rather battered jackknife, and Scattergood noticed that one blade had been broken off. He stretched out his hand.

"Jackknife's kind of lame, hain't it? Don't 'pear to be as stylish as the rest of you?"

"It is a bit dilapidated."

"Got some good ones inside. Fine line of jackknives. Only carry the best. Show 'em to you."

He lifted himself out of the groaning chair and went into the store, to return with a dozen or more knives, which he showed to Mr. Blossom, and Mr. Blossom looked at them gravely. He was smiling to himself. A man who could interrupt a deal involving upward of a hundred thousand dollars to try to sell a jackknife certainly was not of a caliber to give serious worry to an astute business man.

"Recommend the pearl-handled one," said Scattergood. "Two dollars 'n' a half."

"I'll take it," said Mr. Blossom, and he stuck his old knife in a post, replacing it in his pocket with the new purchase.

"Cash," said Scattergood, and Mr. Blossom handed over the currency.

"Speakin' of pulpwood," said Scattergood, "how much you figger on payin'?"

Mr. Blossom named a price, delivered at the mill.

"Pay when?"

"On delivery."

"When want it delivered, eh? What date?"

"Before May first."

"Water power or steam?" said Scattergood, somewhat irrelevantly.

"Both. We're putting in steam engines and boilers, but we're going to depend mostly on water power."

"Goin' to build a dam, eh? Big dam?"

"Yes."

"Um!... Stock company?"

"Yes. We'll be solid. Capitalized for a quarter of a million and bonded for a quarter of a million. Gives us half a million capital to start business."

"Stock all sold?"

"Every share."

"Who to?"

"Mostly in small blocks in Boston."

"Um!... Bonds sold?"

"Yes."