supply, I’d be making thousands and thousands of cords of
firewood–making something where nothing was before. And
everybody who ever crossed on the ferries would look up at these
forested hills and be made glad. Who was made glad by your
adding four dollars a ton to Rock Wells?”
It was Daylight’s turn to be silent for a time while she waited
an answer.
“Would you rather I did things like that?” he asked at last.
“It would be better for the world, and better for you,” she
answered noncommittally.
CHAPTER XVI
All week every one in the office knew that something new and big
was afoot in Daylight’s mind. Beyond some deals of no
importance, he had not been interested in anything for several
months. But now he went about in an almost unbroken brown study,
made unexpected and lengthy trips across the bay to Oakland, or
sat at his desk silent and motionless for hours. He seemed
particularly happy with what occupied his mind. At times men
came in and conferred with him–and with new faces and differing
in type from those that usually came to see him.
On Sunday Dede learned all about it. “I’ve been thinking a lot
of our talk,” he began, “and I’ve got an idea I’d like to give it
a flutter. And I’ve got a proposition to make your hair stand
up. It’s what you call legitimate, and at the same time it’s the
gosh-dangdest gamble a man ever went into. How about planting
minutes wholesale, and making two minutes grow where one minute
grew before? Oh, yes, and planting a few trees, too–say several
million of them. You remember the quarry I made believe I was
looking at? Well, I’m going to buy it. I’m going to buy these
hills, too, clear from here around to Berkeley and down the other
way to San Leandro. I own a lot of them already, for that
matter. But mum is the word. I’ll be buying a long time to come
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before anything much is guessed about it, and I don’t want the
market to jump up out of sight. You see that hill over there.
It’s my hill running clear down its slopes through Piedmont and
halfway along those rolling hills into Oakland. And it’s nothing
to all the things I’m going to buy.”
He paused triumphantly. “And all to make two minutes grow where
one grew before?” Dede queried, at the same time laughing
heartily at his affectation of mystery.
He stared at her fascinated. She had such a frank, boyish way of
throwing her head back when she laughed. And her teeth were an
unending delight to him. Not small, yet regular and firm,
without a blemish, he considered then the healthiest, whitest,
prettiest teeth he had ever seen. And for months he had been
comparing them with the teeth of every woman he met.
It was not until her laughter was over that he was able to
continue.
“The ferry system between Oakland and San Francisco is the worst
one-horse concern in the United States. You cross on it every
day, six days in the week. That’s say, twenty-five days a month,
or three hundred a year. Now long does it take you one way?
Forty minutes, if you’re lucky. I’m going to put you across in
twenty minutes. If that ain’t making two minutes grow where one
grew before, knock off my head with little apples. I’ll save you
twenty minutes each way. That’s forty minutes a day, times three
hundred, equals twelve thousand minutes a year, just for you,
just for one person. Let’s see: that’s two hundred whole hours.
Suppose I save two hundred hours a year for thousands of other
folks,–that’s farming some, ain’t it?”
Dede could only nod breathlessly. She had caught the contagion
of his enthusiasm, though she had no clew as to how this great
time-saving was to be accomplished.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s ride up that hill, and when I get you
out on top where you can see something, I’ll talk sense.”
A small footpath dropped down to the dry bed of the canon, which
they crossed before they began the climb. The slope was steep
and covered with matted brush and bushes, through which the
horses slipped and lunged. Bob, growing disgusted, turned back
suddenly and attempted to pass Mab. The mare was thrust sidewise
into the denser bush, where she nearly fell. Recovering, she
flung her weight against Bob. Both riders’ legs were caught in
the consequent squeeze, and, as Bob plunged ahead down hill, Dede
was nearly scraped off. Daylight threw his horse on to its
haunches and at the same time dragged Dede back into the saddle.
Showers of twigs and leaves fell upon them, and predicament
followed predicament, until they emerged on the hilltop the worse
for wear but happy and excited. Here no trees obstructed the
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view. The particular hill on which they were, out-jutted from
the regular line of the range, so that the sweep of their vision
extended over three-quarters of the circle. Below, on the flat
land bordering the bay, lay Oakland, and across the bay was San
Francisco. Between the two cities they could see the white
ferry-boats on the water. Around to their right was Berkeley,
and to their left the scattered villages between Oakland and San
Leandro. Directly in the foreground was Piedmont, with its
desultory dwellings and patches of farming land, and from
Piedmont the land rolled down in successive waves upon Oakland.
“Look at it,” said Daylight, extending his arm in a sweeping
gesture. “A hundred thousand people there, and no reason there
shouldn’t be half a million. There’s the chance to make five
people grow where one grows now. Here’s the scheme in a
nutshell. Why don’t more people live in Oakland? No good
service with San Francisco, and, besides, Oakland is asleep.
It’s a whole lot better place to live in than San Francisco.
Now, suppose I buy in all the street railways of Oakland,
Berkeley, Alameda, San Leandro, and the rest,–bring them under
one head with a competent management? Suppose I cut the time to
San Francisco one-half by building a big pier out there almost to
Goat Island and establishing a ferry system with modern
up-to-date boats? Why, folks will want to live over on this
side. Very good. They’ll need land on which to build. So,
first
I buy up the land. But the land’s cheap now. Why? Because it’s
in the country, no electric roads, no quick communication, nobody
guessing that the electric roads are coming. I’ll build the
roads.
That will make the land jump up. Then I’ll sell the land as fast
as the folks will want to buy because of the improved ferry
system
and transportation facilities.
“You see, I give the value to the land by building the roads.
Then I sell the land and get that value back, and after that,
there’s the roads, all carrying folks back and forth and earning
big money. Can’t lose. And there’s all sorts of millions in it.
I’m going to get my hands on some of that water front and the
tide-lands. Take between where I’m going to build my pier and
the old pier. It’s shallow water. I can fill and dredge and put
in a system of docks that will handle hundreds of ships. San
Francisco’s water front is congested. No more room for ships.
With hundreds of ships loading and unloading on this side right
into the freight cars of three big railroads, factories will
start up over here instead of crossing to San Francisco. That
means factory sites. That means me buying in the factory sites
before anybody guesses the cat is going to jump, much less, which
way. Factories mean tens of thousands of workingmen and their
families. That means more houses and more land, and that means
me, for I’ll be there to sell them the land. And tens of
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173
thousands of families means tens of thousands of nickels every
day for my electric cars. The growing population will mean more
stores, more banks, more everything. And that’ll mean me, for
I’ll be right there with business property as well as home
property. What do you think of it?”
Therefore she could answer, he was off again, his mind’s eye
filled with this new city of his dream which he builded on the
Alameda hills by the gateway to the Orient.
“Do you know–I’ve been looking it up–the Firth Of Clyde, where
all the steel ships are built, isn’t half as wide as Oakland
Creek down there, where all those old hulks lie? Why ain’t it a
Firth of Clyde? Because the Oakland City Council spends its time
debating about prunes and raisins. What is needed is somebody to
see things, and, after that, organization. That’s me. I didn’t
make Ophir for nothing. And once things begin to hum, outside