But Senator Chew, a countryman, who had capitalized his shifty wits and hard-won education, bent his knee to the brazen gods of cupidity and ambition.
“I don’t just see,” he demurred petulantly to Spurrier, “why you go about this thing the way you do. You’ve got unlimited capital behind you and yet in going after these options you ain’t hardly got hold of any more land than just enough to let your pipe line through. You could get all a man’s property just as cheap per acre as part of it—and when I’ve sweated blood to give you your charter and you’ve sweated 234 blood to grab your right-of-way, that God-forsaken land will be a Klondike.”
“I hope so,” smiled Spurrier, and his ally went on.
“All right, but why have nothing out of it except a pipe-line? Why not have the whole damn business to split three ways, among Harrison’s crowd, yourself—and the crowd I’ve got to handle?”
“You’re a mountain man, Senator,” the opportunity hound reminded him. “You know that in every other section of the hills to which development has come, the native has reaped only a heart-ache and an empty belly. I am purposely taking only a part of each man’s holding, so that when the oil flows there what he has left will be worth more to him than all of it was before.”
“Hell,” growled the politician. “The men you ought to think about making money for, are the men you need—like me, and the men who back you, like Harrison. These local fellows won’t thank you, and in my opinion you’re a fool, if you’ll permit me to talk plain.”
“Talk as plain as you like, Senator,” smiled the other. “But I think I’m acting with right sound sense. Our field can be more profitably developed among friends than among enemies—even if no consideration other than the practical enters into the problem.”
It was not until Christmas time that Spurrier broke away from his activities in Louisville, and then he came bearing gifts and with a heart full of eagerness. He came elated, too, at the fair promise of his prospects, and confident of victory.
So Glory hid the fears that had been growing in her heart and, because of the tidal power of personal fascination and contact, she found it an easy task. While Spurrier was with her, those fears seemed to lose their substance and to stand out as absurdities. They were delirious miasmas dissipated by the sun and daylight of companionship.