He had an estate, half ranch,
half farm, with a French Canadian manager named Vigon, an old prospector
who viewed every foot of land in the world with the eye of the
discoverer. Gold, coal, iron, oil, he searched for them everywhere,
making sure that sooner or later he would find them. Once Vigon had found
coal. That was when he worked for a man called Constantine Jopp, and had
given him great profit; but he, the discoverer, had been put off with a
horse and a hundred dollars. He was now as devoted to Terence O'Ryan as
he had been faithful to Constantine Jopp, whom he cursed waking and
sleeping.
In his time O'Ryan had speculated, and lost; he had floated a coal mine,
and "been had"; he had run for the local legislature, had been elected,
and then unseated for bribery committed by an agent; he had run races at
Regina, and won--he had won for three years in succession; and this had
kept him going and restored his finances when they were at their worst.
He was, in truth, the best rider in the country, and, so far, was the
owner also of the best three-year-old that the West had produced. He
achieved popularity without effort. The West laughed at his enterprises
and loved him; he was at once a public moral and a hero.
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