“Oh, don't let that trouble you, Landray! It's Gibbs's eggs that'll hatch out first, so don't you worry. We'll stand shoulder to shoulder. You haven't any capital? Well, no matter—here brains and character will see you far; and you got both, for you're a Landray.”
They had reached the office by this time, and Gibbs forced his friend into his best chair; he then provided Stephen and himself with cigars, and was ready for business.
“I want you to take right hold, Landray, and look after things,” he said. “I'm going to branch out; I find I can't tie myself down—the office work don't suit me. We're not only going to sell lots, we're going to put up the buildings on them as well—this will be in your department. I'm going to make it my business to keep Grant City before the public. I'll have a weekly paper running here inside of the next thirty days, and I got my eye on a seat in the State Legislature, too; I want to play strong for that, or a worse man may fill it; but you ain't interested in all this yet; naturally you're wanting to know where you come in and what I got to offer you. I'm going to make you the right sort of a proposition here and now, a proposition you can't afford to turn down.”
And Gibbs was rather better than his word, for just twenty-four hours later Stephen was established in his office with a satisfactory salary and an interest in the business as well.
He had been inclined to look upon the town as something of a farce, but he soon decided that in this hasty opinion he had formed, his judgment had been at fault. Men straggled in by stage and prairie schooner; there was a steady demand for lots, indeed the demand was only exceeded by the supply; and he was rather dubious as to the wisdom of the town-site speculators who with the aid of tape line and stakes seemed willing to apportion the greater part of Kansas to the future needs of Grant City.
“They'll overdo it,” he told Gibbs.
“I guess not,” said Gibbs. “You can't really overdo a good thing, and Grant City's the best thing in Kansas. It's getting about that it is, too—the public's waking up to the fact.”
But while Stephen never quite believed in the methods Gibbs seemed to consider so admirable, he saw that the cheap and hastily erected houses they were building, principally on credit, all found tenants the moment they were habitable.
He and Marian lived in one of these houses, one of several that formed an unpainted row that overlooked the dusty Main Street which later when the winter rains set in, became a bog that the citizens—knowing its perils—navigated with caution. It was here that a son was born them, who was christened Stephen Mason Landray.
Gibbs would have had this event celebrated in some public manner; for, as he said, little Stephen was the first native-born citizen of Grant City, but out of consideration for Stephen's wishes in the matter, he compromised by deeding the child a town lot.