And I could have put them on the tramp, too--they'd already dipped
their fingers in where they couldn't stand litigation. I'm sure of
that--or they would never have come through; which they did.
But I'm sorry I ever got mixed up with them. I'm going to sell my
stock and advise Lewis and the others to do the same while we can get
full value for it. Lorimer and that bunch will manipulate the outfit
to death, no matter how the mine produces. They'll have a quarter of a
million to work on pretty soon, and they'll work it hard. They're
shysters--but it's after all only a practical demonstration of the
ethics of the type--"Do everybody you can--if you can do 'em so there's
no come-back."
That's all of that. I don't care two whoops about the money. There is
still gold in the Klappan Range and other corners of the North,
whenever I need it. But it nauseated me. I can't stand that cutthroat
game. And Granville, like most other cities of its kind, lives by and
for that sort of thing. The pressure of modern life makes it
inevitable. Anyway, a town is no place for me. I can stomach it about
so long, and no longer. It's too cramped, too girded about with
petty-larceny conventions.
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