Grady had little dreamed that already considerable blocks of the stock had passed, under various names, into the control of the Keokuk banker, Allen Miller, to whom he had some time before mortgaged his Mine and Smelter Company bonds, and who had reasons of his own for displacing Grady and crippling him still more badly in his finances. Nor had he sensed the danger that the scattered sales of stock in the East had been in reality for a single buyer, Major Buell Hampton. Therefore he had been caught quite unprepared for the combination of forces that was able now to throw him down and out at the first meeting of stockholders. For once the fox had slept and had been caught napping in the short grass, away from the tall timber.
Carlisle had of late been too busy “doing politics,” and had allowed matters to drift even though he had seen possible rocks ahead. Now the two old-time confederates were blaming each other—Carlisle denouncing Grady for parting with the stock control, Grady upbraiding Carlisle for neglect in not having taken steps to discover who were the real buyers of the shares being gradually transferred on the company’s stock books. The blow, however, had fallen, and there was no means of blocking the transfer of power into new hands.
When the stockholders’ meeting reconvened the following morning, Major Buell Hampton submitted the names of five men whom he desired on the directorate. They were—Roderick Warfield, Grant Jones, Boney Earnest and himself, together with Ben Bragdon, who would also take up the duties of attorney for the company. This left only a couple of places to be filled by the eastern stockholders. Two names from among the old directors were offered and accepted. Indeed the selection of directors became a unanimous affair, for seeing themselves utterly defeated both Grady and Carlisle, glaring at each other, had left the room.
Major Hampton’s views on corporations and dividends, and his new plan of management for the Smelter Company spread all over the camp with astonishing rapidity, and there was general rejoicing among the miners and laborers.
One employee in the smelter who had been with the company for some three years made the discovery that, while he was receiving three dollars per day, which meant an annual income to himself and family of $1095, his dividend would bring him an extra lump sum of $219 annually.
When figuring this out to his wife he said: “Think of the pairs of shoes it will buy for our kiddies, Bess.”
And the woman, an Irishwoman, had replied: “Bless the little darlin’s. And hats and coats as well, not to speak of ribbons for the girls. God bless the Major. Sure but he’s a wonderful man.”
Several workers sitting in a corner of the Red Dog saloon were calculating with pencil and paper their annual dividends on the already famous Buell Hampton plan.
“Boys,” said one of them after they had their several accounts figured to the penny, “maybe we won’t make the dividend bigger next year—what?”
“I should say,” responded another. “I’ll do at least twice the work every day of the coming year, because there’s now an object for us poor devils to keep busy all the time. We’re sharing in the profits, that’s just what it means.”