"And your congressman will pull you out. Now let me drop a few pearls of wisdom in the form of conundrums. Why does a fat man who can't ride a horse hold a job as Forest Supervisor in a mountain country?" "He's got a pull somewhere," replied Welton. "Bright boy! Go to the head. Why does a fat man who is hated by every mountain man, who grafts barefacedly, whose men are either loafers or discouraged, _hold_ his job?" "Same answer." Baker leaned forward, and his mocking face became grave. "That pull comes from the fact that old Gay is his first cousin, and that he seems to have some special drag with him." "The Republican chairman!" cried Welton. Baker leaned back. "About how much chance do you think Mr. Orde has of getting a hearing? Especially as all they have to do is to stand pat on the record. You'd better buy your extra fire-fighters." "That would be plain bribery," put in Bob from the bed. "Fie, fie! Naughty!" chided Baker. "Bribery! to protect one's timber against the ravages of the devouring element! Now look here," he resumed his sober tone and more considered speech; "what else can you do?" "Fight it," said Bob. "Fight what? Prefer charges against Plant? That's been done a dozen times. Such things never get beyond the clerks. There's a man in Washington now who has direct evidence of some of the worst frauds and biggest land steals ever perpetrated in the West. He's been there now four months, and he hasn't even _succeeded in getting a hearing_ yet. I tried bucking Plant, and it cost me first and last, in time, delay and money, nearly fifty thousand dollars. I'm offering you that expensive experience free, gratis, for nothing." "Make a plain statement of the facts public," said Bob. "Publish them. Arouse public sentiment." Baker looked cynical. "Such attacks are ascribed to soreheads," said he, "and public sentiment _isn't interested_. The average citizen wonders what all the fuss is about and why you don't get along with the officials, anyway, as long as they are fairly reasonable." He turned to Welton: "How much more of a delay can you stand without closing down?" "A month." "How soon must your deliveries begin?" "July first." "If you default this contract you can't meet your notes." "What notes?" "Don't do the baby blue-eyes. You can't start a show like this without borrowing. Furthermore, if you default this contract, you'll never get another, even if you do weather the storm." "That's true," said Welton. "Furthermore," insisted Baker, "Marshall and Harding will be considerably embarrassed to fill their contracts down below; and the building operations will go bump for lack of material, if they fail to make good. You can't stand or fall alone in this kind of a game." Welton said nothing, but puffed strongly on his cigar.