Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-06-15

y
ting on too much steam. You've
brought the boom, all right, but at
the pace you're setting 1t won't last
long enough. Are you catching on?"
"I'm listening" was the noncommit-
tai reply.
well. enough's enough, and too
much Of good thing scalds the hog
before you're ready to dress 1t and cut
1t up. It's all right for you to run men
in here by the trainload and scatter
'em out over your scaffolding
more the merrier, and it's good for the
town-but you needn't sweat the last
shovelful Of hurry out Of them the way
you're doing. 1t won't do to get your
job finished too SOON"
Before congress convenes, you
mean?" suggested Brouillard.
That's just what l mean. String it
out. Make 1t last"
Brouillard sat back In his pivot chair
and began to play with the paper
knife.
and IL l don't choose to string 1t
out-if even confess that am strain
ing every nerve to do this thing that
Mr. Cortwright?"
The quiet retort jolted the stocky
man in the armchair as If 1t had been
a blow. But he recovered quickly.
1--WE been looking for that" he said
with nervous twinkling of the little
gray eyes. you've no business being
out of business, Brouillard If you'd
quit pudding sand and cement and lit
tie rocks together and strike your gait
right in ten years you'd be the richest
man this side Of the mountains. I'll
be open-handed with you: This time
you've got US where we can't wiggle.
We've got to have more time. How
much Is 1t going to cost us?"
Brouillsrd shook his head slowly.
"Odd as 1t may seem to you, I'm out
OF your market this time, Mr. Cort-
wright-Quite out of It,"
"Oh, no, you're not. You've got
property to seil--a good bit of 1t. We
can turn 1t for you at a figure that
will
mo; you are mistaken" was the
quick reply. II have no property In
Mirapolis. / am merely a squatter on
government land, like everyone else
in the Niquoia valley"
For heavens sake!" the promoter
burst out. What's got into you?
Don't you go around trying to stand
that corpse on it's feet; it's dead one,
tell you! The Coronida titles are all
right"
There are no Coronida titles. You
have known it all along, and know it
now. / have 1t straight from the bu-
reau OF land statistics, in letter from
a man who knows. The nearest
boundary Of the old Spanish grant is
Latigo peak, ten miles south of Chi
gringo. The department kRows this
and is prepared to prove 1t. And in
the very beginning you and your asso-
ciates were warned that you could not
acquire homestead or other rights in
TIE NiQuoia."
LET 1t go!" snapped the gray-eyed
king OF the pack. We've got to get
out alive and we're going to get out
alive. What's your price?"
"T have answered that question once,
but I'll make it little palmer if you
wish. 1t is beyond your reach; if you
should turn your money-coining soul
into cash you couldn't pay it this time.
Mr.. Cartwright
That's -boy-talk-play-ran
ing! You want something's it that
damned Massingale business again? I
don't own the railroad, but If you think
/ do, I'll sign anything you want to
write to the traffic people. Let Mas
singale sell his ore and get the money
for it. He'll 60 gamble 1t as he did
yours
Brouillard locked up under the
shaded electric globe and his hand
some face wrinkled in sour smile.
You are ready to let go. are your"
he said. "You are too late. Mr.. Ford
returned from Europe a week ago, and
l have wire saying that tonight's
through freight from Brewster is chief
~ made up Of empty ore cars for the
Little Susan"
The sandy-gray eyes blinked at this.
but Mr.. Cartwright was of those who
die hard
What ] said still holds good. Mas
singale or his son, or both of them,
will gamble the money. And If they
don't, we've got 'em tied up in a hard
knot on the stock proposition"
l was coming to that" said Brouil-
lard quietly. For a long time you
have been telling me what I should do
and | have done 1t. Now I'll take my
turn. You must notify your associ-
ates that the Little Susan deal is eff,
There will be called meeting of the
directors here In this room tomorrow
evening at eight o'clock, and"
who calls it?" interrupted the
tyrant
THE president"
President nothing!" was the snort
ed comment. "An old. drunken gam
bier who hasn't got sense enough to
go In when 1t rains! Say, Brouillard,
III cut that pie so there'Il be enough