“You see how rocky it is? Figure for yourself what a perfect trap for gold every bowlder makes! And there is gold! You don’t deny that, do you?”
“Why, no. I can’t deny the very probable presence of gold in considerable quantity.” This being rather in the nature of a professional question, Rawley instinctively leaned toward conservatism in his reply.
“Well, that’s our object. We feel it’s going to be worth the expense of building the dam. Other people may possibly want to make use of our dam, when they see it. In that case, we should be able to get back at least what money we are going to put into it. We’ll know, to a dollar. Nevada has got the education and training the rest of us lack and can tell us at a minute’s notice just what the work is costing us. That’s her job. And Old Jess has signed a contract with us three. The idea was his in the first place, and the claims that produced the gold to do the work with are his—most of them. He gets half of all the gold we take out. We repay, out of our share, one-half the expense of building the dam, and the three of us share equally in the rest. In other words—I suppose I’ve put it clumsily—he takes half the net proceeds, we divide the other half. And since we inherit, at his death, we are all satisfied.” He stood up and smiled down at Rawley in the half darkness of early night.
“So you see, son, why I won’t need any of that gold you and the Injun are looking for. I expect to be pretty well fixed myself, before so very long.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE LAND OF SPLENDID DREAMS
For days Rawley watched the might of the rushing Colorado and wondered at the temerity of men who would calmly plan to check its headlong progress to the sea. A splendid dream, he was compelled to own; a dream worthy a better man than old Jess Cramer. But every man must have one vision of great things during his life, else he would lack the spark of immortality. He may distort the vision to baser depths, but to each life is given one dream, one glimpse into the realm of beautiful possibilities. So Jess Cramer had dreamed his dream, had seen his vision, and had held aside the curtain so that others might see.
It interested Rawley in his days of helplessness to observe the reactions of that dream upon the diverse natures that dwelt within the basin. Old Jess Cramer had become a vulture in human form, his whole soul enslaved by the greed fostered by his individual conception of the vision. Rawley could look at the river and picture Old Jess down in its slimy bed of mud bars, rocks and groping streamlets, wildly scrabbling amongst the gravel and stones for the gold his insatiable soul craved. He pictured Old Jess gloating over his gold, weighing it in his hands, stupidly goggling without the wit to give it for what pleasures his spent old life could still enjoy.
Young Jess, too, had pulled the splendid vision down to his dull understanding. Young Jess, low-browed, sullen, would like to throw the gold with both hands into the lap of brutish gratifications. Young Jess was a gambler by nature, Rawley gleaned. He must never be let loose in a town, because he would have to be hauled out in a drunken torpor, his pockets empty, his credit strained, his soul fresh blotted by vice. Young Jess had “sprees”; from Gladys Rawley learned that. So Young Jess was kept on a leash of family watchfulness.
“When we make our big clean-up,” Gladys confided from the bench on the screened porch, her baby nursing desultorily in its sleep, “Jess has gotta give me half of his share fast as he rakes it in. I’m going to have Peter see’t he does that—or we’ll be broke ag’in in no time. I’m going to put it where he can’t git his fingers on it to gamble, you bet! And he runs with women—that sure makes the money fly! But I guess they’ll be two of us, at that!” she tittered. “I ain’t so old yet I can’t git up some speed—give me some decent clothes and di’mon’s. I’m going to Salt Lake, an’ I’m going to have me the biggest car they is on the market. My folks is got a car, down to Needles—”
Anita,—Rawley was long in learning what was Anita’s bright, particular vision. One day he asked her outright, since he could not lead her to talk about her expectations in a general way. And straightway he was humbled and ashamed.