The Man From The Bitter Roots - Page 89/191

"I apologize," he said frankly, "I hadn't any business to get funny when you asked me a civil question, but the fact is the town's been worked to death with mining schemes. Nearly everyone's been bitten to the point of hydrophobia and I doubt if you can raise a dollar without friends."

"I wouldn't say I had much show if that's the case," Bruce answered, "for I'm a long way off my range."

In his well-worn Stetson, with his dark skin tanned by sun and wind and snow to a shade that was only a little lighter than an Indian's; using, when he talked, the wide, careless gestures that bespeak the far West, Bruce was so obviously of the country beyond the Mississippi that the clerk could not repress a smile.

"I've never promoted anything more important than a theatre party or a motor trip," the clerk vouchsafed, "but I should think some of the brokers who handle mining stocks would be the people to see. There's a good firm two doors above. I can give you the names of a few people who sometimes take 'flyers' on the side but even they don't go into anything that isn't pretty strongly endorsed by someone they know. There's always the chance though," he continued, looking Bruce over speculatively, "that someone may take a fancy to you personally. I've noticed that personality sometimes wins where facts and figures couldn't get a look in."

Bruce answered simply: "That lets me out again, I've no silver tongue. I've talked with too few people to have much fluency."

The clerk did not contradict him though he was thinking that Bruce could thank his personality for the time he was giving him and the pains he was taking to help him.

"Here," handing Bruce a hastily written list. "You needn't tell them I sent you for it wouldn't do any good. Some of them come in here often but they look upon me as an office fixture--like this mahogany desk, or that Oriental rug."

"This is mighty good of you," said Bruce, as grateful as though he had written special letters of endorsement for him to all his friends. "Say," with his impulsive hospitality, "I wish you could come out and visit me. Couldn't you get away the end of August when the bull-trout and the redsides are biting good?"

"Me?" The clerk started, then he murmured wistfully: "When the bull-trout and the redsides are biting good! Gee! I like the way that sounds! Then," with a resigned gesture, "I was never farther west than South Bethlehem; I never expect to have the price."

He looked so efficient and well dressed that Bruce had thought he must receive a large salary and he felt badly to learn that the prosperity of such a nice chap was only clothes deep. He promised to look in on him before he left the city and tell him how he had gotten on; then he took his list and went back to the hotel prepared to spend some anxious hours in the time which must intervene before he could expect to hear from his night telegram. He hoped the answer would come in the morning, for disappointments, he had learned, were easier to bear when the sun shone.