nd a high wire
screen. One of these latter recognised him and came forward.

"Hello," said Annixter abruptly, scowling the while. "Is your boss in?
Is Ruggles in?"

The bookkeeper led Annixter to the private office in an adjoining room,
ushering him through a door, on the frosted glass of which was painted
the name, "Cyrus Blakelee Ruggles." Inside, a man in a frock coat,
shoestring necktie, and Stetson hat, sat writing at a roller-top desk.
Over this desk was a vast map of the railroad holdings in the country
about Bonneville and Guadalajara, the alternate sections belonging to
the Corporation accurately plotted. Ruggles was cordial in his welcome
of Annixter. He had a way of fiddling with his pencil continually while
he talked, scribbling vague lines and fragments of words and names on
stray bits of paper, and no sooner had Annixter sat down than he had
begun to write, in full-bellied script, ANN ANN all over his blotting
pad.

"I want to see about those lands of mine--I mean of yours--of the
railroad's," Annixter commenced at once. "I want to know when I can buy.
I'm sick of fooling along like this."

"Well, Mr. Annixter," observed Ruggles, writing a great L before the
ANN, and finishing it off with a flourishing D. "The lands"--he crossed
out one of the N's and noted the effect with a hasty glance--"the lands
are practically yours. You have an option on them indefinitely, and, as
it is, you don't have to pay the taxes."

"Rot your option! I want to own them," Annixter declared. "What have you
people got to gain by putting off selling them to us. Here this thing
has dragged along for over eight years. When I came in on Quien Sabe,
the understanding was that the lands--your alternate sections--were to
be conveyed to me within a few months."

"The land had not been patented to us then," answered Ruggles.

"Well, it has been now, I guess," retorted Annixter.

"I'm sure I couldn't tell you, Mr. Annixter."

Annixter crossed his legs weariedly.

"Oh, what's the good of lying, Ruggles? You know better than to talk
that way to me."

Ruggles's face flushed on the instant, but he checked his answer and
laughed instead.

"Oh, if you know so much about it--" he observed.

"Well, when are you going to sell to me?"

"I'm only acting for the General Office, Mr. Annixter," returned
Ruggles. "Whenever the Directors are ready to take that matter up, I'll
be only too glad to put it through for you."

"As if you didn