“As for me,” chimed in Tom Baker, “I will lay my money on this ‘ere proposed new town bein’ the biggest town in the whole dangnation State of California outside of sea-board towns.”
Just then through the gathering darkness a lone horseman rode up to the store, dismounted and came hurriedly in. It was none other than Chester Munson, flushed and excited, as he sang out a good-natured salute: “Hallo, boys. I have news for you.”
As he spoke he pulled a Bakersfield daily paper from his pocket. “The new town!” he fairly shouted. “All about it, right on the front page, pictures and all. And it is Dick Willoughby who wins the ten-thousand-dollar prize!”
“That’s great news, sure,” cried Jack.
“It’s a mighty pity Dick ain’t here to celebrate,” growled the sheriff.
“What’s to be the name of the town?” asked Buck Ashley, in a disbelieving tone.
“Tejon, after the old fort here,” replied Munson, as he pointed to the featured article with its big-type headlines and started to cull a few sentences.
“It says that the new city of Tejon, right here in the heart of a rich horticultural valley, is bound to be one of the top-notch towns of California. And the opening day is going to be immense. Next Tuesday is the date fixed. Maps and plans of the new town will be ready for distribution from the land company’s office, corner Main Street and Broadway, at nine o’clock Monday morning. Let me see,” he went on, looking up from the paper, “this is Wednesday. Mighty few days to wait, boys. You just ought to see the excitement in Bakersfield.”
“Well, I say there ain’t no such town,” snapped Buck Ashley, “nor no such a company’s office buildin’, ‘cause I was down there day before yesterday myself, right where them surveyin’ fellers have been foolin’ ‘round for weeks, peekin’ through spy-glasses at each other and measurin’ off so many feet this way and so many feet that way, like a bunch o’ kids playin’ some game. No, siree, there’s nothin’ but long rows of white stakes driv in the ground. Looks to me as if they was a-gettin’ ready to build a lot of henhouses. Of course the railroad’s there, and the only thing changed that I could see was a lot of side-tracks they’ve put in.”
“Well, things have been humming the last two days,” laughed Munson. “This afternoon I found all the side-tracks filled with trains of lumber, carload after carload, and not less than two or three hundred workmen, all as busy as nailers. Looked to me as if a three-ring circus were getting ready for a big show. They are already running up electric light poles and stringing the wires. Some of the men are unloading cars, some stacking up lumber, others are putting up tents, and the entire business reminded me of a hive of extremely busy bees. Go down and look for yourself, Buck, and you’ll be convinced at last that the new town has arrived.”