Free The Seventh Mountain by Gene Curtis Page B

amazement. He
thought for a moment before asking, “Would it be too much to ask
you to have a spot cleared for a house?”
    “Not at all. I’ll just put that in the
finalized contract with the timber company. They will already have
the machines here that can do that.” Mr. Newsom was smiling. “I’ll
pick out a nice spot.”
    Steve interrupted, “Mark, don’t you think
that is a bit much to ask?”
    Mr. Newsom responded, “Not at all. It’s
basically free work. The timber company really wants this timber.
They’ll make a pretty penny on that oak. It’s the kind that they
export to Japan. They will agree to just about anything within
reason to get it. Clearing an acre or so of stumps is nothing to
them. It won’t take them more than an hour or two to do it with all
the machines that they have.”
    Steve looked at Mr. Newsom. “It sounds like
you have had experience at this.”
    “Not me personally. I hired a professional
forester to cruise the timber and give me a report. That’s what he
says. He should know; that’s what he does for a living. He even
told me about the different timber companies that are working in
this area now. I’m going with the one that chips up all of the
debris. That means that I get a few more dollars and there is not
much, if any, trash to get rid of.” Mr. Newsom grinned.
    “Another benefit you get is that the timber
company surveys the property. They have to. It’s a really big fine
if they cut even one tree on an adjacent piece of property. They go
to great pains to make sure that they don’t do that while being
able to harvest as much timber as they can.”
    “It sounds like you’ve been planning this
for some time.” Steve noticed that Mark was listening intently.
    “Not really. It’s just that beef prices are
down right now. Frankly, we need the money. Just wish that there
was some way for me to keep Uncle Sam out of my pockets.” That was
the first time that Steve had seen Mr. Newsom frown.
    “You’ve been a big help, Mr. Newsom. I think
that we have intruded on your hospitality long enough now.”
    Steve shouldn’t have been surprised by the
Newsom’s hospitality, but he was. Living in the city and on base
all of his life had tainted his opinion of how people acted toward
one another. He was still feeling awkward at being in a complete
stranger’s home.
    “Not at all. You folks are welcome to stay
the night. We have two guest rooms.” Steve stood up and Mr. Newsom
smiled.
    Shirley and the boys stood up with Steve.
Steve explained, “We still have a lot of stuff back at the hotel.
We also have some more loose ends to tie up.” Steve was thinking
about that account that had kept the property taxes paid up for the
last century. That was a very unusual thing. He wanted to check
into it.
    The family left and drove back to the hotel.
It was too late to call the bank. That would have to wait until
morning.
     * * *  
    The next morning came. Steve made the call
after he obtained a toll free number from the operator. After a
long wait and a series of transfers, he was able to talk to
someone, a Mrs. Jenkins, who had access to the information about
the account.
    “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t discuss the account
over the phone. You need to appear in person. The note in the file
says that you need to bring your staff. How large of a conference
room will you need?”
    “A small room will do. I can’t make it
today. I’m in Virginia right now.”
    “Please call me back at least a day in
advance to schedule an appointment. You’ll need to talk with me,
personally, to do that.”
    “Thank you. I’ll do that.”
    Steve didn’t have enough time left on his
approved leave to make it to New York and back. He was due back on
base in two days. He decided to call his commanding officer and get
an extension on his leave. Then he called and booked a hotel room
on the outskirts of New York City. He called Mrs. Jenkins back at
the bank and made an appointment for 2 p.m. on