"I'm going to have a good try. I want these two towns to be one.
That'll be good for your town lots, Jowett," he added whimsically. "If
my policy is carried out, my town lot'll be worth a pocketful of gold-
plated watches or a stud of spavined mares." He chuckled to himself, and
his fingers reached towards a bell on the table, but he paused. "When
was it they said the strike would begin?" he asked.
"Friday."
"Did they say what hour?"
"Eleven in the morning."
"Third of a day's work and a whole day's pay," he mused. "Jowett," he
added, "I want you to have faith. I'm going to do Marchand, and I'm
going to do him in a way that'll be best in the end. You can help as
much if not more than anybody--you and Osterhaut. And if I succeed,
it'll be worth your while."
"I ain't followin' you because it's worth while, but because I want to,
Chief."
"I know; but a man--every man--likes the counters for the game." He
turned to the table, opened a drawer, and took out a folded paper. He
looked it through carefully, wrote a name on it, and handed it to Jowett.
"There's a hundred shares in the Northwest Railway, with my regards,
Jowett.
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