“State the facts,” said Blount shortly.

“It was like this.  As you know, we’ve got a number of plants scattered around at different places in the State, and, one way and another, we employ a good many men.  These men are residents of the State, but you couldn’t call ’em citizens in the sense that they take any active interest in what’s going on.  They’re here this year, and they may be up among the Oregon redwoods next year, and somewhere else the year after.  When they vote at all they naturally ask us how we’d like to have ’em vote; and that’s the way it was two years ago at election time.”

“I see.  But how does this concern the railroad company?”

“I’m coming to that, right now.  Two years ago we found that our employees’ vote was big enough to turn the scale in four of the legislative districts and to cut a pretty good-sized figure in a fifth.  This vote was worth something to your people, and the fact was properly recognized.  I don’t know but what I’m telling you a lot of stale news, but—­”

“Go on, Mr. Hathaway; if I wasn’t greatly interested in the beginning, I am now.  How was the fact recognized by the Transcontinental Railway Company?”

“It was just as easy as twice two.  The Twin Buttes Lumber Company is practically the only heavy lumber-shipper in this inter-mountain territory, and it was given a preferential rate on its products; you might say that the amount of business we do entitles us to some special consideration, anyway.  There wasn’t any bargain and sale about it, you understand.  It was just a sort of friendly recognition of our help in the election.”

“This rate is lower than the rate made to other lumber-shippers?”

“Well, yes; but, after all, it isn’t any big thing.  If you were up on lumber rates, Mr. Blount—­as I don’t suppose you are—­you’d know that the special tariff we get is all that enables us to live and do business.”

Blount had opened his penknife and was absently sharpening a pencil.

“This special rate you refer to, Mr. Hathaway,” he said, speaking slowly and quite distinctly—­“am I right in inferring that it is not confined strictly to points within the State boundaries?”

At this the lumberman repeated a phrase which he had used in the anxious conference in the Weatherford herbarium.

“If I thought you didn’t know, I’d go a long time without telling you, Mr. Blount.  But of course you do know.  If you wasn’t on the inside of all the insides you wouldn’t be sitting here pulling the strings for McVickar.  The rate is a blanket; it covers all shipments.”

Blount nodded and his apparent coolness was no just measure of the inward fires the crooked lumber-king was kindling.

“You interest me greatly, Mr. Hathaway.  I am a little new to these things—­as you intimated a few moments ago.  How is this matter handled—­by rebates, I suppose?”

“N-not exactly,” was the hesitating denial.  “That would be too risky for both of us.  But the Transcontinental Company is a heavy buyer—­lumber and cross-ties and bridge timber, you know—­and the biggest part of the difference between our special and the regular rate is taken up in our bills for material furnished to the railroad.”