VI.
MORTIMER carried away from Colonel Jefferson Casimir's dinner a most pleasant impression of his host, as well as a good deal of champagne; but so carefully had the wine been administered that he felt only a grateful exhilaration. Also he had been received on an equal footing by this pleasant-spoken old capitalist and his opinion on various matters had been asked for and listened to with respect. He felt that he was at last seeing things from the inside, obtaining an insight into the methods by which large fortunes are made. Unconsciously his manner grew dignified, as became a man of affairs.
"Going to bed?" asked Collingwood, when they reached their hotel.
"Think I'll write a few letters," replied Mortimer. "I've been too busy for correspondence the last day or two."
"Ah," said Collingwood. "See you later, then."
Mortimer sat down at the writing-table and set himself to composing a letter to Maisie Hooper. The champagne stimulated his ideas and he wrote freely, astonished at the ease with which the apt phrases flowed from his pen.
At first he had the room to himself, but as he was in the midst of his letter a man, obviously drunk, lurched in and, seating himself opposite, began to write. Mortimer surveyed him with disgust which the champagne beneath his own belt only accentuated. Why the deuce didn't they keep the hotel clear of drunks? The man was unshaven, roughly clad, and looked like a miner. There was, however, something familiar in his appearance. Where had he seen him before?
The newcomer wrote laboriously, chewing a rank cigar which he had difficulty in keeping alight. He, addressed an envelope, but allowed a huge ink-drop to blot it. He discarded it and addressed another; then, folding up his letter, he left the room.
Mortimer was relieved. He finished his own letter and, out of idle curiosity, picked up the blotted envelope which lay face up on the table where the Granger had thrown it aside. This was the address he read, written in a rude, sprawling hand:
Mine Engineer,
Ogallala House,
Coppercliffe.
"Lowrey?" Why, that was the name of the holder of one hundred thousand shares of Silver Queen stock whom Colonel Casimir was trying to locate. He was an engineer, too. And like a flash recognition came to Mortimer. The man who had addressed the envelope was the very man who had sat smoking on a powder-box at the Silver Queen shaft that morning.
Holding the envelope in his fingers, Mortimer put two and two together. Here was a man at the Silver Queen writing to one Lowrey, a mining engineer. The balance of probabilities was against there being two Lowreys, both mining engineers and both correspondents of a man employed at that mine. Ergo, chance had put him in possession of a piece of information very much desired by Colonel Casimir.
His first impulse was to take the envelope to the colonel's hotel, but immediately a thought struck him. Why shouldn't he make something out of it himself? If those shares were necessary to enable the colonel to acquire control of Silver Queen he ought to be willing to pay for them. Lowrey probably knew nothing of the reported strike. He might be willing to sell cheap. In that case if he, Mortimer, could get at him before the letter, he might make a nice little rake-oft on the turnover.
He wondered what Collingwood would advise, but he rather doubted the advisability of confiding in him. Collingwood was a friend of the colonel and, besides, he might want to share in the good thing which Mortimer desired for himself. He determined to pump him skilfully.
"Quite a scheme, that of the colonel's to get control of Silver Queen," he observed casually as they smoked a final cigar before turning in.
"Most usual thing in the world." replied Collingwood carelessly. "No one buys a property outright now. The better plan is to get control of the stock. After that you can proceed to eliminate minority holders and acquire the shares at your own price."
"I don't quite see it." said Mortimer. "If the property is any good their stock will increase in value with yours, won't it?"
"Not if you know the game," returned Collingwood. "You, having control, can depress the stock artificially by rumors of all kinds. As a last resort you can amalgamate with another company, forming a new one, and assess the holders out of their boots. Part of them will forfeit rather than pay the assessments. Those who pay will get watered stock in exchange for their old holdings, and their values will be cut in half. Then, a little judicious litigation will usually bring them to the selling point. Lots of ways to do it."
"Ah," said Mortimer, thoughtfully. "Is that what the colonel will do?"
"No, I hardly think so," replied Collingwood. "For one thing he's absurdly conscientious, and for another he has enough money already to be square in his dealings. Must be worth several millions by this time."
"What do you suppose he'd be willing to pay this man Lowrey for his shares?"
"Lowrey? Oh, that's the engineer. Well, I don't know—haven't gone into it. I know the stock has been absolutely unsalable. But then the colonel wants it badly, and I guess he has scooped in about all that is loosely held. If he has confidence in the property he might go pretty high—say to forty, or even more."
"And do you think Lowrey would sell for that?"
"Depends on a lot of things. If he is wise to the situation he won't. If he is hard up and sees a chance to unload for ready money likely he will, and probably for a good deal less. I wish I had an option on his holdings. I'd make the old colonel give up strong for it. But it's a mighty hard job to locate a prospector. He's probably stampeding around up above timber-line, somewhere, and won't be in till the snow flies."
Mortimer said nothing for some moments. He was more than ever convinced that he possessed valuable information and he made up his mind not share it with Collingwood.. The question now uppermost in his mind was how much the colonel would pay for the shares. He was unwilling to put his money into an uncertainty.
"I suppose," he remarked tentatively, "that if the colonel said he would pay certain price for those shares he'd keep his word?"
Collingwood shot a look at him. It vas very keen, and an expression which Mortimer did not observe crossed his face. "The colonel is strictly honorable," he replied. "When he promises anything his word is away ahead of the ordinary man's written agreement. Why? You don't know Lowrey, do you?"
"Never heard of him before," said Mortimer with assumed carelessness. "I was just wondering if the colonel was perfectly reliable. Plenty of men aren't."
"Well, he is," said Collingwood. with emphasis. "You can tie right up to what he says. He'd keep his word in a financial matter if it took his last cent. That's one side. The other is that he expects every one else to do the same."
Mortimer, satisfied, changed the subject, much pleased at his own adroitness. It remained only to interview the colonel and obtain a definite promise from him to take over the stock at a given price.