“Let me have my say.”
“Sit down, old fellow; nobody wants to hear you.”
Amid this babel of voices, old Mr. Crewe rose, and waited for the attention of his audience.
When every eye was riveted on him, he said, “Though I discerned the importance of this discovery, I was not prepared, gentlemen, for the interest you have so warmly expressed. It is a fact that this is the commencement of a new era in the history of Timber Town. We are about to enter upon a new phase of our existence, and from being the centre of an agricultural district, we are to become a mining town with all the bustle and excitement attendant upon a gold rush. Under the mining laws, each of you has as much right as my friend Scarlett, here, to a digger’s claim upon this field, provided only that you each obtain a Miner’s Right and peg off the ground legitimately. But I understand that the desire is to unite for mutual benefit. That is to say, you desire to pool your interests and divide the proceeds. The first thing, then, is for each man to peg off his claim. That done, you can work the properties conjointly under the supervision of a committee, pay the gross takings into a common account, and divide the profits. In this way the owner of a duffer claim participates equally with the owner of a rich one. In other words, there is less risk of failure—I might say, no risk at all—but also much temptation. Such a scheme would be quite impossible except amongst gentlemen, but I should imagine that where men hold honour to be more precious than money, none will risk his good name for a little gold. First, it must be the association of working miners; secondly, a company of gentlemen. Unless a man feels he can comply with these two conditions, he had best stand aside.”
“It would be too late for a man to think of backing out,” interrupted the bearded Hercules, “after he had turned thief by performing the Ananias trick of keeping back part of his gains: that man would probably leave the field quicker than he went, and poorer.”
“Or possibly he might not leave it at all,” interjected Chesterman.
“However that might be,” continued Mr. Crewe, “the object of all present is, I understand, to act in unison. There will be hundreds of diggers on the field before very long, and in many cases claims will be jumped and gold will be stolen, in spite of the Warden and the constabulary. You will be wise, therefore, to co-operate for mutual protection, if for no other reason.”
“Name, title?”
“What shall the association be called?”
A dozen names were suggested by as many men. Some were offered in jest, some in earnest; but none met with approval. When the tempest of voices was past, Mr. Crewe said, “The association must have a name; certainly, it must have a name. It is not to be a company, registered under the Act. It is not to be a syndicate, or a trust. It is simply a league, composed of gentlemen who intend to stand beside each other, and divide the profits of their enterprise. If you cannot consolidate your claims, you must work them individually. I shall therefore suggest that you call yourselves The Timber Town Gold League. Your articles of agreement can be drawn up in half-an-hour, and you can all sign them before you leave this room.” Here Scarlett whispered to Mr. Crewe, who scrutinised his hearers, and then said, “To be sure; certainly. Whilst Bulstrode, here, who is a lawyer and should know his business, is drawing up the document, Scarlett asks you to drink to the prosperity of the new league.”