Manson glanced up at him in surprise.
“Would you take it?” he asked.
“Take it? Of course. That’s what I thought I was engaging to do when I telegraphed from New York.”
“Why, no sooner said than done, John. I’d no idea you wished to get back into the railway business. I should think a man who can make millions outside wouldn’t be content to sit here at a salary of ten or fifteen thousand a year.”
“I am tired of making millions,” said Steele.
“You don’t mean to say,” protested Manson with something like dismay in his words, “you don’t mean to say you won’t go in with us? I took your telegram as consent, and because I could thus guarantee the bringing in of a big capitalist, I have induced others to join and secured an extra slice for myself.”
“Where there are millions to be made,” said Steele dubiously, “there is always a risk, and I had determined not to accept any more chances.”
“There is no chance about this, John; it is a sure thing, and the development of it rests entirely in my hands. You can double your money and pull out within ten days after I give the word, and I’ll give the word whenever you say so.”
“What’s your project, Mr. Manson?”
“Well, you see, the Wheat Belt Line, which has been one of the most prosperous roads in the country for some years past, is going to build a branch running two hundred and seventy miles northwest until it taps the Wisconsin Pacific. This red line shows you where the road will run. The Wheat Belt Line has secured all the timber land on each side, but the former president, whose place I have taken, and myself have an option on the prairie and the stump-lands where timber has been cut. The president resigned simply to give his whole time to this land company, and that’s why I am in his place. Now, we can get the property at prairie value just now; but the minute we begin surveying, up it will jump. You can trust me to keep my word. If you join us, I shall give the order for surveying the line the moment deeds of the land are in our possession.”