“I will. I’ve a good deal to say.”
“Staked off the rest of your ranch? It’ll be some little time yet before you get those patents through you’ve applied for already——”
“What do the taxes foot up on the Oro Fino Primo Mine?”
“Ah—What?” The man’s face turned scarlet, then white. He was a young man, clerically able, but otherwise insignificant. “Why——” Then he became voluble.
“The Primo mine, over there near your place? It’s a new claim, isn’t it? Never heard of it before those fellows from New York sank a shaft and struck it rich. Why should there be any taxes before the regular——”
“You know as well as I do that Judge Stratton patented that mine and did the necessary amount of development work, then found it salted and abandoned it. That was twenty-eight years ago. He forgot it, and so, apparently, did this office. It was regarded as an abandoned prospect hole, if anyone thought about it at all. I haven’t discussed the matter with Mr. Blake, but assume that he’s merely been waiting for his bill. Now, for reasons of my own, I’ve telegraphed him to meet me here this morning, but in case he can’t come I’m prepared to pay the amount myself. How much?” and he took out his checque book.
The treasurer looked as if the cane seat of his chair had turned to hot coals. “Really—that is a large order, Mr. Compton. Twenty-eight years. It will take time to go over the records.”
“I’m prepared to wait all day if necessary.”
“But why this haste?”
“I have my reasons. They don’t concern you in the least. Do they?”