The End of the Trail Read Online Free PDF Page A

It was good of you to come without any more explanation than my telegram gave you.”
    Pat’s eyes twinkled as he took the hand of his old friend. “I’d never turn you down on a favor, John.”
    â€œMeet the rest of our Board of Directors,” Hazeltine said, urging him forward. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Phil Morrow, head of the Breeder’s Association; and Mr. Raine, who owns the bank and half of Denver; Mr. Van Urban, president of the Western Slope Railroad; and Joe Bancroft.”
    Pat Stevens acknowledged each of the introductions with a nod and a handshake. As he took Bancroft’s hand, he frowned and said, “There’s a commission house …”
    â€œThat’s right, Stevens,” Bancroft told him heartily. “We’ve handled your beef for a good many years, sent you some sizeable checks as I recall. Glad to meet you.”
    Mr. O. Manley Raine cleared his throat loudly and sank back into his chair. “If the reunions are over, suppose we get down to business?”
    Hazeltine said, “Of course. Take that chair at the other end of the table, Pat, and I’ll explain why I asked you to meet with us this morning.”
    Pat went to the other end of the table and took the vacant chair reserved for him. He grinned and shook his head when Bancroft leaned toward him to offer a cigar. He said, “I reckon I’ll just roll my own,” and got out a book of brown papers and a sack of flaked tobacco.
    â€œI know you’ve heard of our syndicate, Pat,” Hazeltine began. “I remember telling you about our breeding experiment up on Sanctuary Flat last year when I was in Powder Valley.”
    Pat licked his cigarette and nodded. “It sounded right int’resting when you told it. These here four are your pardners, huh?”
    â€œWe all own equal shares in the Syndicate. We’re all interested in improving the breed of Western cattle … except Mr. Van Urban perhaps. His interest is in developing the Western Slope to make business for his narrow gauge railroad.”
    â€œThe line that runs up from Pueblo?” Pat asked the engineer. “They do say that was a tough job of building. Didn’t another outfit try it and give it up?”
    Van Urban said, “Yes. Some years ago. They abandoned the line as an impossible job.” He shrugged his slender shoulders and spread out his hands.
    â€œThe rest of us had had our eyes on Sanctuary Flat for years,” Hazeltine told Pat, “for just such a breeding experiment as we’re carrying on now. It’s eight thousand feet high, absolutely secluded by high mountains to prevent any scrub bulls from getting in and spoiling our breed, the finest stretch of grazing land to be found in Colorado. But it was so inaccessible that we couldn’t use it until Van Urban came along and convinced us he was capable of extending the narrow gauge over the Divide and into the valley.”
    â€œDid you fellows finance the first line that started up there?” Pat asked interestedly.
    â€œWe finished it. Most of it was financed by a coal company that later went bankrupt. They planned to tap large coal deposits at the upper end of the Flat …”
    â€œWhich would have ruined it for our purposes,” Morrow put in. “We were glad enough when the company failed.”
    â€œYou see,” Bancroft took up the explanation enthusiastically, “what we wanted and needed was an absolutely virgin valley where we could start from scratch on scientific principles and …”
    â€œI fail to see,” interrupted the banker gruffly, “how any of this financial and scientific background is of interest to Stevens. Why don’t you get on with our problem, John?” He took out his watch at the end of a heavy gold chain and looked at it anxiously.
    â€œRaine is right,” Hazeltine agreed. “That’s all past history. We started out three