Godfrey Morgan | Page 5

In these battles of the bidders each of its nods meant an
additional hundred thousand dollars.
There was no one to dispute with him.
"Twelve hundred thousand dollars--twelve hundred thousand!" said the
auctioneer, with that peculiar accent which men of his vocation find
most effective.

"Going at twelve hundred thousand dollars!" repeated Gingrass the
crier.
"You could safely bid more than that," said Oakhurst, the bar-keeper;
"William Kolderup will never give in."
"He knows no one will chance it," answered the grocer from Merchant
Street.
Repeated cries of "Hush!" told the two worthy tradesmen to be quiet.
All wished to hear. All hearts palpitated. Dare any one raise his voice in
answer to the voice of William W. Kolderup? He, magnificent to look
upon, never moved. There he remained as calm as if the matter had no
interest for him. But--and this those near to him noticed--his eyes were
like revolvers loaded with dollars, ready to fire.
"Nobody speaks?" asked Dean Felporg.
Nobody spoke.
"Once! Twice!"
"Once! Twice!" repeated Gingrass, quite accustomed to this little
dialogue with his chief.
"Going!"
"Going!"
"For
twelve--hundred--thousand--dollars--Spencer--Island--com--plete!"
"For twelve--hundred--thousand--dollars!"
"That is so? No mistake?"
"No withdrawal?"
"For twelve hundred thousand dollars, Spencer Island!"

The waistcoats rose and fell convulsively. Could it be possible that at
the last second a higher bid would come? Felporg with his right hand
stretched on the table was shaking his ivory hammer--one rap, two raps,
and the deed would be done.
The public could not have been more absorbed in the face of a
summary application of the law of Justice Lynch!
The hammer slowly fell, almost touched the table, rose again, hovered
an instant like a sword which pauses ere the drawer cleaves the victim
in twain; then it flashed swiftly downwards.
But before the sharp rap could be given, a voice was heard giving
utterance to these four words,--
"Thirteen--hundred--thousand--dollars!"
There was a preliminary "Ah!" of general stupefaction, then a second
"Ah!" of not less general satisfaction. Another bidder had presented
himself! There was going to be a fight after all!
But who was the reckless individual who had dared to come to dollar
strokes with William W. Kolderup of San Francisco?
It was J. R. Taskinar, of Stockton.
J. R. Taskinar was rich, but he was more than proportionately fat. He
weighed 490 lbs. If he had only run second in the last fat-man show at
Chicago, it was because he had not been allowed time to finish his
dinner, and had lost about a dozen pounds.
This colossus, who had had to have special chairs made for his portly
person to rest upon, lived at Stockton, on the San Joachim. Stockton is
one of the most important cities in California, one of the depôt centres
for the mines of the south, the rival of Sacramento the centre for the
mines of the north. There the ships embark the largest quantity of
Californian corn.

Not only had the development of the mines and speculations in wheat
furnished J. R. Taskinar with the occasion of gaining an enormous
fortune, but petroleum, like another Pactolus, had run through his
treasury. Besides, he was a great gambler, a lucky gambler, and he had
found "poker" most prodigal of its favours to him.
But if he was a Croesus, he was also a rascal; and no one would have
addressed him as "honourable," although the title in those parts is so
much in vogue. After all, he was a good war-horse, and perhaps more
was put on his back than was justly his due. One thing was certain, and
that was that on many an occasion he had not hesitated to use his
"Derringer"--the Californian revolver.
Now J. R. Taskinar particularly detested William W. Kolderup. He
envied him for his wealth, his position, and his reputation. He despised
him as a fat man despises a lean one. It was not the first time that the
merchant of Stockton had endeavoured to do the merchant of San
Francisco out of some business or other, good or bad, simply owing to
a feeling of rivalry. William W. Kolderup thoroughly knew his man,
and on all occasions treated him with scorn enough to drive him to
distraction.
The last success which J. R. Taskinar could not forgive his opponent
was that gained in the struggle over the state elections. Notwithstanding
his efforts, his threats, and his libels, not to mention the millions of
dollars squandered by his electoral courtiers, it was William W.
Kolderup who sat in his seat in the Legislative Council of Sacramento.
J. R. Taskinar had learnt--how, I cannot tell--that it was the intention of
William W. Kolderup to acquire possession of Spencer Island. This
island seemed doubtless as useless to him as it did to his rival. No
matter. Here was another