Free Shadow on the Land by Wayne D. Overholser

little people have had to contend with those things, Mister Dawes.”
    â€œBut building and operating a railroad . . .”
    She spread her hands emphatically. “You don’t really know anything about a frontier. It isn’t much different here from the way it was a century ago. Who explored it? The fur traders. Men like Peter Skene Ogden and Nathaniel J. Wyeth. Who brought the first wagons and cattle over the McKenzie Pass? Felix Scott. There were miners, sheepmen, cattlemen, freighters, farmers. Little people. They built what is called the Inland Empire, yet you think they can’t build and run a railroad.”
    Temper was crowding Lee now, but he held a tight rein on it. “What you say about the Harriman interests is entirely correct. They’ve taken their own sweet time about building into the interior of this state, and it’s the Oregon Trunk that’s moving them now. My company will build your railroad as fast as the job can be done. Your people’s line can’t even get started until it’s voted on a year from next November. Then there are all kinds of problems that will have to be solved . . . financial, legal, getting competent men to build and run it, and keep it in the black . . . something that state-owned roads find hard to do. The smart thing is to leave it to experts. We’ll have our line built and running before the organization you hope for can turn a shovelful of dirt.”
    Hanna had listened carefully, and now she said, a little reluctantly: “Your arguments are sound, Dawes. It did take your company to spur Harriman into action. I admit I lean toward you, if we must have an old line company build our road, but I also know that both companies are interested mainly in controlling Pacific Coast railroading. My section of Oregon has no real meaning to them . . . we’re pawns to be moved by the giant chess players. We’ll pay terminal rates that will handicap our agriculture, our towns, our settlements. Your bosses had their chance, and we can read what they’ll do in the future by the record they’ve written into the past.”
    Quinn had tensed, his craggy face granite-hard. “Hill’s the power behind the Oregon Trunk, Dawes,” he said angrily. “He’s trying to block us here to gain concessions on the Portland terminal question. Don’t let him fool you, Miss Racine.”
    Hanna smiled. “You see? You admit that your central Oregon railroad is merely another move in your chess game. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but on a ranch this size, there is a lot of work to do.”
    Lee never knew whether Highpockets had been listening outside the door or not, but he stomped in now, his bearded face guileless. “I sure do hate to interrupt, Mister Quinn, and I don’t know much about these gas buggies, but that there machine of yours has got four tires that look all right, mostly, but on the bottom they’re flat as pancakes. Now if you just run on the tops of those tires . . .”
    â€œFour of them?” Quinn shouted. “Judas!” He shoved Highpockets out of the way and ran across the living room and out of the house.
    Highpockets winked at Lee. “Guess I’d better go give him a hand.”
    â€œI suspect that the tires are all right.” Hanna smiled. “The best recommendation that you could have is for Highpockets to be on your side.”
    â€œSomehow we’ve got off on the wrong foot, Miss Racine,” Lee said with a humility that was not characteristic of him. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œWe’re looking at this thing from opposite sides,” she said a little stiffly, “so we’re seeing two very different things.”
    â€œHave you thought that your refusal to sell us this right of way might be the means of keeping the Oregon Trunk from being built?”
    She stood at the desk, a proud, realistic girl, seeing this exactly as Herb Racine would have