278 
American Agriculturist, March 24,1923 
The Valley of the 
Giants —Sy Peter B. Kyne 
«T DO NOT know that she feels for me anything stronger than a vagrant 
JL sympathy, Dad, for while she is eternally feminine, nevertheless she has 
a masculine way of looking at many things. She is a good comrade with a bully 
sense of sportsmanship, and unlike her skunk of an uncle, she fights in the open. 
Under the circumstances, however, her first loyalty is to him; in fact, she owes 
none to me. And I dare say he has given her some extremely plausible reasort 
why we should be eliminated.” 
“Perhaps, perhaps. One never knows why a woman does things, although it 
is a safe bet that if they’re with you at all, they’re with you all the way. Elimi¬ 
nate the girl, my boy. She’s trying to play fair to you and her relative. Let 
us concentrate on Pennington.” 
“The entire situation hinges on that jump-crossing of his tracks on Water 
Street.” 
“Then, lad^ your job is to get your crossing in before he finds out, isn’t it?” 
“Yes, but it is an impossible task, partner. I’m not Aladdin, you know. I have 
to have a franchise from the city council, and I have to have rails.” 
“Both are procurable, my son. Induce the city council to grant you a tem¬ 
porary franchise to-morrow, and buy your rails from Pennington. He has a 
mile of tack running up Laurel Creek, and Laurel Creek was logged out three 
years ago. Ninety-pound rails are rusting there.” 
“But will he sell them to me?” 
“Not if you tell him why you want 
them.” 
“But he hates me, old pal.” 
“The Colonel never permits senti¬ 
ment to interfere with business, my 
son. He doesn’t need the rails, and he 
does desire your money. Consider the 
rail-problem settled.” 
“How do you stand with the Mayor 
and the council?” 
“I do not stand at all. I opposed 
Poundstone for the office; Dobbs was 
once a bookkeeper in our office, you will 
remember. I discharged him for loot¬ 
ing the petty-cash drawer. Andrews 
and Mullin are professional politicians 
and not to be trusted. In fact. Pound- 
stone, Dobbs, Andrews, and Mullin are 
known as the Solid Four. Yates and 
Thatcher, the remaining members of 
the city council, are the result of the 
reform ticket last fall, but since they 
are in the minority, they are helpless.” 
“That makes it bad.” 
“Not at all. The Cardigans are not 
known to be connected with the N. C. O. 
Send your bright friend Ogilvy after 
that franchise. Give him a free hand 
and tell him to deliver the goods by 
any means short of bribery. I imagine 
he will know exactly how to proceed. 
I knoiv you can procure the rails and 
have them at the intersection of B and 
Water streets Thursday night. If 
Ogilvy can procure the temporary 
franchise and have it in his pocket 
by six o’clock Thursday night, you 
should have that crossing in by sunup 
Friday morning. Then let Pennington 
rave. He cannot procure an injunc¬ 
tion, and hold us up indefinitely, because 
by the time he wakes up, the tracks 
will have been cut. The best he can 
do then will be to fight us before the 
city council when we apply for our 
permanent franchise.” 
“Partner, it looks like a forlorn 
hope,” said Bryce. 
“Well, you’re the boy to lead it. And 
it will cost bi t little to put in the cross¬ 
ing. Remember, Bryce, once we have 
that crossing in, it stands between 
Penning-ton and the law which he 
knows so well how to pervert.” He 
turned earnestly to Bryce and waved 
a trembling admon'tory finger. “Your 
job is to keep out of court. Once 
Pennington gets the law on us, the issue 
will not be settled for years; and in the 
meantime—you perish. Run along now 
and hunt up Ogilvy. George, play 
that ‘Suv/anee River’ quartet again. 
It sort o’ soothes me.” 
I T was with a considerably lighter 
heart that Bryce returned to the 
office, from which he summoned Buck 
Ogilvy by telephone. 
“Thanks so much for the invitation,” 
Ogilvy murmured gratefully. “I’ll be 
down in a pig’s whisper.” And he was. 
“Bryce, you look like the devil,” he de¬ 
clared the moment he entered the 
private office. 
“I ought to. Buck. I’ve just raised 
the devil and spilled the beans on the 
N. C. 0.” 
“To whom, when, and where?” 
“To Pennington’s niece, over the tele¬ 
phone about two hours ago.” 
Buck Ogilvy smote his left palm with 
his right fist. “And you’ve waited two 
hours to confess your crime? Zounds, 
man, this is bad.” 
“I know. I’ve probably talked you 
out of a good job.” 
“Oh, say not so, old settler. How 
did you let the eat out of the bag?” 
“That remarkable girl called me up, 
and accused you of being a mere screen 
for me and amazed me so I admitted 
it.” 
Ogilvy dropped his red head in simu¬ 
lated agony and moaned. Presently he 
raised it and said: “Well, it might 
have been worse. Think if she called 
in person! She would have picked your 
pocket for the corporate seal, the com¬ 
bination of the safe, and the list of 
stockholders, and probably ended up 
by gagging you and binding you in 
your own swivel-chair.” 
“Don’t, Buck. Comfort and not abuse 
is what I need now.” 
“All right. I’ll conclude my remarks 
by stating that I regard you as a 
lovable fat-head. Now, then, what 
do you want me to do to save the 
day?” 
“Deliver to me by six o’clock Thurs¬ 
day night a temporary franchise from 
the city council, granting the N. C. O. 
the right to run a railroad from our 
drying-yard across Water Street at its 
intersection with B Street and out 
Front Street.” 
“Certainly. By all means! Sure you 
don’t want me to arrange to borrow a 
star or two to make a ta-ra-ra for the 
lady? No? All right, old dear! I’m 
on my way. Nevertheless, for your 
sins, you shall do me a favor before my 
heart breaks after falling down on this 
contract you’ve just given me.” 
“Granted, Buck. Name it.” 
“I’m giving a nice little private, 
specially cooked dinner to Miss 
McTavish to-night, in one of those 
private screened corrals in that highly 
decorated Chink restaurant on Third 
Street. Moira—that is. Miss McTavish 
—is bringing a chaperon, one Miss 
Shirley Sumner. Your job is to enter¬ 
tain Miss Sumner.” 
“Nothing doing!” Bryce almost 
roared. “Why, she’s the girl that 
bluffed the secret out of me!” 
“You promised in advance, and no 
excuses go now. The news will be all 
over town by Friday morning; so why 
bother to keep up appearances any 
longer. Meat me at the Canton at 
seven and check dull care at the en¬ 
trance.” 
And before Bryce could protest, Ogilvy 
had thrown open the office door and 
called the glad tidings to Moira, in the 
next room; whereupon Moira’s wonder¬ 
ful eyes shone. “Oh, how wonderful!” 
she exclaimed. “I’ve always wanted 
Miss Shirley to meet Mr. Bryce.” 
Again Bryce was moved to protest, 
but Buck Ogilvy kicked him in the 
shins. “Don’t crab my game, you 
miserable snarley-yow. Detract one 
speck from that girl’s pleasure, and 
you’ll never see that temporary fran¬ 
chise,” he threatened. And with his 
bright smile he set out immediately 
upon the trail of the city council, leav¬ 
ing Bryce Cardigan a prey to many 
conflicting emotions. 
CHAPTER XXIII 
ORTUNATELY Bryce Cardigan 
had Mr. Buck Ogilvy; and out of the 
experiences gained in other railroad¬ 
building enterprises, the said Ogilvy, 
while startled, v/as not stunned by the 
immensity of the order so casually 
given him, for he had already devoted 
to the matter of that crossing the bet¬ 
ter part of the preceding night. 
“Got to run a sandy on the Mayor,” 
Buck soliloquised as he walked rapidly 
uptown. “And I’ll have to be mighty 
slick about it, too, or I’ll get my 
fingers in the jam.” 
Two blocks farther on, Mr. Ogilvy 
snapped his fingers vigorously. “Eu¬ 
reka!” he murmured. “I’ve got Pound- 
stone by the tail on a down-hill haul.” 
He hurried to put in a long-distance 
call for the San Francisco office of the 
Cardigan Redwood Lumber Company. 
When the manager came on the line, 
Ogilvy dictated a message to be tele¬ 
graphed back to him at the Hotel 
Sequoia one hour later; this mysterious 
detail attended to, he continued on to 
the Mayor’s office in the city hall. 
Mayor Poundstone’s bushy eye¬ 
brows arched with interest when his 
secretary laid upon his desk the card 
of Mr. Buchanan Ogilvy, vice-president 
and general manager of the Noiihern 
California Oregon Railroad. “Ah-h-h!” 
he breathed. “I have been expecting 
Mr. Ogilvy to call for quite a while. 
Show him in.” 
T he visitor was accordingly admit¬ 
ted to the great man’s presence. 
“I’ve been hoping to have this pleasure 
for quite some time, Mr. Poundstone,” 
Buck announced easily. “But I have 
had so much preliminary detail to at¬ 
tend to before making an official call 
that at last I concluded I’d just drop in 
informally and get acquainted.” Buck’s 
blue eyes opened wide in sympathy with 
his genial mouth, to deluge Mayor 
Poundstone with a smile that was 
friendly, guileless, and singularly de¬ 
lightful. 
“Glad you did—mighty glad,” the 
Mayor cried heartily. “We have all, of 
course, heard of your great plans and 
are naturally anxious to hear more of 
them, in the hope that we can help pro¬ 
mote your enterprise and incidentally 
our own, since we are not insensible to 
the advantages when this county is 
connected by rail with the outside 
world.” 
“That extremely broad view is most 
encouraging,” Buck chirped, and he 
showered the Mayor with another 
smile. “Reciprocity is the watchword 
of progress. I might state, however, 
my associates and myself are not in¬ 
sensible of the fact that the success of 
our enterprise depends to a great ex¬ 
tent upon the enthusiasm of the city 
of Sequoia; and since you are the chief 
executive, naturally I have come to you 
to explain our plans fully.” 
“I have read your articles of incor¬ 
poration, Mr. Ogilvy,” Mayor Pound¬ 
stone boomed paternally. 
“Then you know exactly what we 
purpose doing, and any further ex¬ 
planation would be superfluous,” Buck 
interrupted amiably. Again he favored 
the Mayor with his bright smile, and 
the latter, now fully convinced that 
here was a young man whom- it 
behooved him to receive in a whole¬ 
hearted manner, nodded vigorous 
approval. 
“Well, that being the case, Mr. 
Ogilvy,” he continued, “what can we 
do to make you happy?” 
“Why, to begin with, Mr. Pound¬ 
stone, you might accept my solemn as¬ 
surances that despite the skepticism 
which, for some unknown reason, ap¬ 
pears in the minds of some people, we 
have incorporated a railroad company 
for the purpose of building a railroad. 
We purpose commencing grading opera¬ 
tions in the very near future, and the 
only thing that can possibly interfere 
will be the refusal of the city council 
to grant us a franchise to run our line 
through the city to tidewater.” He 
handed his cigar-case to Mayor Pound¬ 
stone and continued lightly: “And I 
am glad to have your assurance that the 
city council will not drop a cold chisel 
in the cogs of the wheels of progress.” 
Mr. Poundstone had given no such as¬ 
surance, but for some reason he did not 
feel equal to the task of contracting 
this pleasant fellow. Ogilvy continued: 
“At the proper time we shall apply for 
the franchise. It will then be time 
enough to discuss it. In the meantime 
the N. C. O. plans a public dedicatory 
ceremony at the first breaking of 
ground, and I would be greatly hon¬ 
ored, Mr. Mayor, if you would consent 
to turn the first shovelful of earth and 
deliver the address of welcome upon 
that occasion.” 
The Mayor swelled like a Thanksgiv¬ 
ing turkey. “The honor will be mine,” 
he corrected his visitor. 
“Thank you so much, sir. Well, that’s 
another worry off my mind.” With the 
tact of a prime minister Buck then pro¬ 
ceeded deliberately to shift the conver¬ 
sation to crops, finance and national 
politics, and gradually veered around 
to an artistic word-picture of the vast 
expansion of the redwood-lumber in¬ 
dustry when the redwood-belt should 
be connected by rail with the markets 
of the entire country. Sequoia, he felt 
convinced, was destined to become a 
city of at least a hundred thousand in¬ 
habitants; with a wave of his hand 
studded the waters of Humboldt Bay 
with the masts of the world’s shipping. 
Suddenly he checked himself, apolo¬ 
gized for consuming so much of His 
Honor’s valuable time, gracefully ex¬ 
pressed his appreciation for the en¬ 
couragement given his enterprise, and 
departed. 
H alf an hour later the Mayor’s tele- 
phone-bell rang. Buck Ogilvy was 
on the line. “I beg your pardon for 
bothering you twice in the same day, 
Mr. Mayor,” he announced, “but the 
fact is, a condition has just arisen which 
necessitates the immediate employment 
of an attorney. The job is not a very 
important one, but in view of the fact 
that we must, sooner or later, employ 
an attorney to look after our interests 
locally, it occurred to me that I might 
as well make the permanent selection 
now. Would it be imposing on your 
consideration if I asked you to recom¬ 
mend such a person?” 
“Why, not at all! Delighted to help 
you, Mr. Ogilvy. Let me see, now. 
There are several attorneys at Sequoia, 
all men of ability and integrity, whom 
I can recommend. Cadman & Banes, 
with offices in the Knights of Pythias 
Temple, would be just the people, al¬ 
though there is Rodney McKendrick, in 
the Chamber of Commerce Building—a 
splendid fellow', Mr. Ogilvy. And if I 
may be pardoned a dash of paternal 
ego, there is my son Henry Poundstone, 
Junior. While Henry is a young man, 
his career thus far has been most grati¬ 
fying, although he hasn’t had as broad 
an experience as the others 1 men¬ 
tioned, and perhaps your choice had 
better lie between Cadman & Banes and 
Rodney McKendrick. 
“Thank you a thousand times,” Mr. 
Ogilvy murmured, and hung up. “We 
thought so, Buck,” he soliloquized. 
“Yes, Cadman & Barnes or Rodney Mc¬ 
Kendrick may do, but Lord have mercy 
on the corporate soul of the N. C. 0. if 
I fail to retain Henry Poundstone, Jun¬ 
ior. What a w'ise plan it is to look up 
the relatives of a public official! Well- 
Forward, men, follow me.’’ 
Henry Poundstone, Junior, proved to 
be the sole inhabitant of one rather 
bare office in the Cardigan Block. Buck 
had fully resolved to give him a re¬ 
tainer of a thousand dollars if he asked 
{Continued on page 279) 
WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN THE VALLEY OF THE GIANTS 
J OHN CARDIGAN, redwoods pioneer, now blind and almost defeated by 
Colonel Seth Pennington, a rival operator, discovers that his son Bryce 
is in love with the Colonel’s niece, Shirley Sumner. The old man shrewdly 
suspects that she returns his love, but Bryce, who has found her high- 
spirited and clever in business affairs, doubts it. 
However, Shirley has secretely furnished him funds to fight her, by 
purchasing the Valley of The Giants, thus also thwarting her uncle, 
whom she is beginning to suspect of sharp practice. Bryce has broug’ht 
Buck Ogilvy to Sequoia to help build a railroad which will carry his 
logs to tidewater and Buck promptly falls in love with Moira MacTavish, 
daughter of an old Cardigan woods-boss. 
4 
V 
