“Buck,” said he, “you’re a thick-headed fool. The openin’ of that town will amount to one hell of a sight, don’t you fergit it. Why, that Los Angeles syndicate cuss who’s a-runnin’ the machine is sharper than a razor blade. Just think for one little puny moment,” Tom Baker went on, enthusiastically, “of that printed notice being in every blamed newspaper in the whole country—yes, and on the other side of the Atlantic pond—offerin’ ten thousand dollars for the best plans for an ideal city. Gosh all hemlock, they do say as how the mails were just chuck full of answers—architect fellers as well as them as ain’t architects, a-tryin’ to get their hooks on that ten-thousand-dollar prize. It was a mighty smart business notion, I’m a-tellin’ you, and has boomed the town to beat the band.” “But,” inquired Buck Ashley, in a sarcastic way, “who is confounded fool enough to buy lots in such a wild-cat scheme, no matter how much they advertise it? That’s what I’m askin’.” “I will, for one,” said Jack Rover. “As I said before, I’m going to put in my last dollar.” “As for me,” chimed in Tom Baker, “I will lay my money on this ‘ere proposed new town bein’ the biggest town in the whole dangnation State of California outside of sea-board towns.” Just then through the gathering darkness a lone horseman rode up to the store, dismounted and came hurriedly in. It was none other than Chester Munson, flushed and excited, as he sang out a good-natured salute: “Hallo, boys. I have news for you.” As he spoke he pulled a Bakersfield daily paper from his pocket. “The new town!” he fairly shouted. “All about it, right on the front page, pictures and all. And it is Dick Willoughby who wins the ten-thousand-dollar prize!” “That’s great news, sure,” cried Jack. “It’s a mighty pity Dick ain’t here to celebrate,” growled the sheriff. “What’s to be the name of the town?” asked Buck Ashley, in a disbelieving tone. “Tejon, after the old fort here,” replied Munson, as he pointed to the featured article with its big-type headlines and started to cull a few sentences. “It says that the new city of Tejon, right here in the heart of a rich horticultural valley, is bound to be one of the top-notch towns of California. And the opening day is going to be immense. Next Tuesday is the date fixed. Maps and plans of the new town will be ready for distribution from the land company’s office, corner Main Street and Broadway, at nine o’clock Monday morning. Let me see,” he went on, looking up from the paper, “this is Wednesday. Mighty few days to wait, boys. You just ought to see the excitement in Bakersfield.”