"It's nothing to get white over. There's a heap more money near the doors of San Quentin than anywhere else. The closer the doors, the larger the heap. It takes a little more courage to grab it and run, that's all. I've tried it before."
"Will you take the one hundred thousand in stock?"
"That would be easy; too easy for me. No stock, thanks. Five thousand cash, one hundred thousand in a six months, ten per cent note. First mortgage note. I'm prepared to deliver the goods." He drew a large envelope from his pocket, pulled out the charter and held it open before Elijah. "Omnibus goods. A license to pick the gilt knobs off'n the doors."
"Suppose I take your offer, what certainty have I that this will end your demands?"
"My word, Berl. 'Honor among, etc.' You know. Besides, the cinch isn't going to last always. You're going to be able to square yourself with the Las Cruces. That'll end me. I could make it unpleasant, but what's the use? Every one goes in sight of the doors sometimes; but it's only fools who get inside. I know."
Elijah rose slowly and went into the house. A little later, he returned and handed some papers to Mellin. They were a note for one hundred thousand dollars and a draft on a San Francisco bank for five thousand. In the note was this condition. It would be payable three months after the water should be turned into the main canal of the Las Cruces company.
Mellin read the note.
"I object to the conditional payment. The water may never be turned on."
"Then you are welcome to the land."
Mellin thought a moment.