ought
a white elephant. Every day that he held it he had thrown good money
after bad and he sent out a search party for Wiley Holman. Wiley had
refused half the mine, but that only proved that half of the mine did
not appeal to him--perhaps he would take it all. Samuel J. had been a
student for a good many years in the school of predatory business and he
had learned the rules of the game. He knew that the buyer always decried
the goods and magnified each tiny defect, whereas the seller by as
natural a process played up every virtue to the limit. But any man who
inspected the goods was a potential buyer of the same, and Wiley had
shown more than a passing interest in the fate of the unlucky Paymaster.
And Wiley was a mining engineer.

They met in the glassed-in office of Blount in the ornate Bank of Vegas
and for a half an hour or more Wiley sat tipped back in his chair while
Blount talked of everything in general. It was a way he had, never to
approach anything directly; but Wiley favored more direct methods.

"I understood," he remarked, bringing his chair down with a bang, "that
you wanted to see me on business?"

"Yes, yes, Wiley," soothed Blount, "now please don't rush off--I wanted
to see you about the Paymaster."

"Well, shoot," returned Wiley, "but don't ask my advice, unless you're
ready to pay for it."

He tipped back his chair and sat waiting patiently while Blount
unraveled his thoughts. He could think closer than most men, but not
quicker, and the Paymaster was a tangled affair.

"I have been told," he began at last, "that you are still buying
Paymaster stock. Or at least--well, a check of yours came through here
endorsed by Death Valley Charley, and Virginia Huff. Oh, yes, yes;
that's your business, of course; but here's the point I'm coming to; it
won't do you any good to buy in that stock because I've got a majority
of it right here in my vault. If you want to control the Paymaster,
don't go to someone else--I'm the man you want to see."

He tapped himself on the breast and smiled impressively, and Wiley
nodded his head.

"All right," he said imperturbably, "when I want the Paymaster Mine I'll
know right where to go."

"Yes, you come to me," went on Blount after a minute, "and I'll do the
best I can." He paused expectantly, but Wiley did not speak, so he went
on blandly, as before. "The stock, of course, is nonassessable and the
taxes are very small. I intend from now on to keep them paid up, s