"Stopping in California long?" he asked, with some approach to
geniality.
"Permanently, I think," replied Bob.
"You are going to manufacture your timber?"
Bob looked up astonished.
"You're the Orde interested in Granite County timber, aren't you?"
"I'm employed by Welton, that's all," said Bob. "He owns the timber. But
how did you know I am with Welton?" he asked.
"With Welton!" echoed Oldham. "Oh, yes--well, I heard from Michigan
business acquaintances you were with him. Welton's lands are in Granite
County?"
"Yes," said Bob.
"Well," said Oldham vaguely, "I hope you have enjoyed your little
outing." He turned away.
"Now, how the deuce should anybody know about me, or that I am with
Welton, or take the trouble to write about it?"
He mulled over this for some time. For lack of a better reason, he
ascribed to his former football prominence the fact that Oldham's
Michigan correspondent had thought him worth mention. Yet that seemed
absurdly inadequate.
PART THREE
I
Two weeks later a light buckboard bearing Welton and Bob dashed in the
early morning across the plains, wormed its way ingeniously through gaps
in the foothills, and slowed to a walk as it felt the grades of the
first long low slopes.
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