Oldham considered this a moment, then nodded his head, and took his place by the young man’s side.
“It’s about those Modoc lands,” said he.
“I suppose so,” said Bob.
“Mr. Baker tells me you fully intend to prosecute a suit for their recovery.”
“I believe the Government intends to do so. I am, of course, only the agent of the Government in this or any other matter.”
“In other words, you have received orders to proceed?”
“I would hardly be acting without them, would I?”
“Of course; I see. Mr. Baker is sometimes hasty. Assuming that you cared to do so, is there no way you could avoid this necessity?”
“None that I can discover. I must obey orders as long as I’m a government officer.”
“Exactly,” said Oldham. “Now we reach the main issue. What if you were not a government officer?”
“But I am.”
“Assume that you were not.”
“Naturally my successor would carry out the same orders.”
“But,” suggested Oldham, “it might very well be that another man would not be—well, quite so qualified to carry out the case—”
“You mean I’m the only one who heard Baker say he was going to cheat the Government,” put in Bob bluntly.
“You and Mr. Welton and Mr. Baker were the only ones present at a certain interview,” he amended. “Now, in the event that you were not personally in charge of the case would you feel it necessary to volunteer testimony unsuspected by anybody but you three?”
“If I were to resign, I should volunteer nothing,” stated Bob.
Oldham’s frosty eyes gleamed with satisfaction behind their glasses.
“That’s good!” he cried.
“But I have no intention of resigning,” Bob concluded.
“That is a matter open to discussion,” Oldham took him up. “There are a great many reasons that you have not yet considered.”
“I’m ready to hear them,” said Bob.
“Look at the case as it stands. In the first place, you cannot but admit that Mr. Baker and the men associated with him have done great things for this country. When they came into it, it was an undeveloped wilderness, supplying nothing of value to civilization, and supporting only a scattered and pastoral people. The valley towns went about their business on horse cars; they either paid practically a prohibitive price for electricity and gas, or used oil and candles; they drank well water and river water. The surrounding country was either a desert given over to sage brush and jack rabbits, or raised crops only according to the amount of rain that fell. You can have no conception, Mr. Orde, of the condition of the country in some of these regions before irrigation. In place of this the valley people now enjoy rapid transportation, not only through the streets of their towns, but also by trolley lines far out in all directions. They have cheap and abundant electric light and power. They possess pure drinking water. Above all they raise their certain crops irrespective of what rains the heavens may send.”