Bankruptcy -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Alaska -- Fiction; Oakland (Calif.) -- Fiction; Western stories; Women pioneers -- Fiction
Such was his absorption that the pretty stenographer slowly and
imperceptibly faded from the forefront of his consciousness. Thus, the
first faint spur, in the best sense, of his need for woman ceased to
prod. So far as Dede Mason was concerned, he possessed no more than a
complacent feeling of satisfaction in that he had a very nice
stenographer. And, completely to put the quietus on any last lingering
hopes he might have had of her, he was in the thick of his spectacular
and intensely bitter fight with the Coastwise Steam Navigation Company,
and the Hawaiian, Nicaraguan, and Pacific-Mexican Steamship-Company.
He stirred up a bigger muss than he had anticipated, and even he was
astounded at the wide ramifications of the struggle and at the
unexpected and incongruous interests that were drawn into it. Every
newspaper in San Francisco turned upon him. It was true, one or two of
them had first intimated that they were open to subsidization, but
Daylight's judgment was that the situation did not warrant such
expenditure. Up to this time the press had been amusingly tolerant and
good-naturedly sensational about him, but now he was to learn what
virulent scrupulousness an antagonized press was capable of. Every
episode of his life was resurrected to serve as foundations for
malicious fabrications. Daylight was frankly amazed at the new
interpretation put upon all he had accomplished and the deeds he had
done. From an Alaskan hero he was metamorphosed into an Alaskan bully,
liar, desperado, and all around "bad Man." Not content with this, lies
upon lies, out of whole cloth, were manufactured about him. He never
replied, though once he went to the extent of disburdening his mind to
half a dozen reporters. "Do your damnedest," he told them. "Burning
Daylight's bucked bigger things than your dirty, lying sheets. And I
don't blame you, boys... that is, not much. You can't help it. You've
got to live. There's a mighty lot of women in this world that make
their living in similar fashion to yours, because they're not able to
do anything better. Somebody's got to do the dirty work, and it might
as well be you. You're paid for it, and you ain't got the backbone to
rustle cleaner jobs."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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