California, Southern -- Fiction; Motion picture industry -- Fiction; Petroleum industry and trade -- Fiction; Political fiction
Mr. Benzinger hesitated, and asked just what it was that Mr. Ross
wanted. So Dad explained that he was jist about to drill on such and
such a tract, and he drew a little map showing the streets that he
needed to have graded, and the holes filled up with crushed rock, so his
sills could be delivered on Thursday night. Mr. Benzinger said that
might be arranged, perhaps, and asked his secretary, the only other
person in the room, to step out and ask Mr. Jones to come in; Dad caught
the meaning of that, and as soon as the secretary was gone, he pulled a
little roll of bills out of his pocket, remarking that Mr. Benzinger
would have to work overtime on the matter, and be put to extra trouble
and expense, and it was only fair that Dad should make it up to him; he
hoped Mr. Benzinger would understand that they would have many dealings
in future, as Dad believed in taking care of his friends. Mr. Benzinger
put the bills quietly into his pocket, and said that he understood
fully, and the county authorities wished to give every help to men who
came in to build up the community and its industries; Dad might count
upon it that the work on those streets would start in the morning.
So then they shook hands, and Dad and Bunny went out, and Dad told Bunny
that he must never under any circumstances mention what he had seen in
that office, because every public official had enemies who were trying
to take his job away, and would try to represent it that Dad had paid
him a bribe. But of course it wasn’t anything of the sort; it was the
man’s business to keep the roads in repair, and what Dad gave him was
jist a little tip, by way of thanks, so to speak. You wouldn’t feel
decent not to give him something, because you were going to make a lot
of money yourself, and these here poor devils had to live on a beggar’s
salary. No doubt Mr. Benzinger had a wife and children at home, and they
were in debt; maybe the wife was sick, and they had no way to pay the
doctor. The man would have to stay late at his office, and go out
tonight and hustle up some men to do that job, and maybe get scolded by
his superiors for having acted without authority; the superiors were
doubtless in the pay of some of the big companies, which didn’t want
roads built except to leases of their own. There was all kinds of wires
like that being pulled, said Dad, and you had to be on the watch every
minute. Never imagine that you’d be allowed to come into a new place and
take out several million dollars worth of wealth from the ground, and
not have all kinds of fellers a-tryin’ to get it away from you!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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