"Graft? Graft again," laughed Gordon.
"Why, cert'nly." The livery man opened his eyes in astonishment. "Folks don't do nothin' for nix that I ever heard. Specially railroads. That depot 'll be built where their interests lie, an' we'll have to go on guessin' till they get things fixed."
"I see."
"Which says you ain't blind."
"No, I don't think I'm blind exactly. It's just—lack of experience. I must get a peek at those seams. Mallinsbee's the man who'll know about things as soon as anybody, I s'pose. He owns all the land along the railroad, doesn't he?"
The man rubbed his hands and grinned.
"Sure. He'll know, an' through him us as he's let in on the ground floor. Say, he's a heap of a good feller—an' bright. Y'see, him an' us, some of us fellers who been here right along before the coal was found, are good friends. There's some of us got stakes down Buffalo Point way as well as up here. See? O' course, our pile lies Buffalo Point way, an' we're hopin' he'll fix the railroad corporation that way. If he does, gee! he's the feller we're gamblin' on."
Gordon's interest had become almost feverish as he listened. He was gathering the corroboration he needed with an ease he had never anticipated.
"I suppose one hundred thousand dollars would be nothing to make if—things go right?"
"If things go our way, I'd say a hundred thousand wouldn't be a circumstance," cried the man enthusiastically. "I'd make that out of a few hundred dollars without a worry—if things went right. But it ain't the way of things to go right when you figger up."