Chapter 10

Monday, January 26, 1891

Except for Sundays, Malik, Beatrice, and Peng practiced T’ai chi ch’üan forms every morning before breakfast. In both of their homes, at Waypoint and at Wichita, they used a corner of the basement, which was lit with electric lamps and kept open for the practice. When traveling in the Manuela de Ortega or the Chen Niao, they would wait until nightfall and then exercise in whatever secluded outdoor space was available, though sometimes weather or the setting would preclude the practice. When that happened, Peng would instruct them in small unit defensive and offensive tactics. Occasionally, Malik would describe methods of surreptitious movement in various terrains.

In fact, all three possessed both a dark gray and a lighter brown and tan mottled trousers and overshirt.

Normally, they went through the T’ai chi ch’üan form series four times, first at a slow and deliberate pace, then at a moderate pace, and, finally, twice at a speed which clearly exhibited the martial nature of the forms.

For the exercise, they wore special clothing, which was, in fact, two-piece, cotton flannel, long underwear, a light set in the summer, and a heavier version in winter. While not designed to be form-fitting, per se, the clothing was meant to be worn unobtrusively and comfortably under other layers, so it did, to some degree, contour to the outlines of the body beneath it. Both Malik and the two women maintained trim physiques.

On this Monday morning, for the first time, Wren, who also displayed a healthy female physique, joined them for the exercise session. Malik made no comment, even when it became obvious that Wren had received some prior instruction. She kept up with the first round, and only stumbled a few times in the second. Peng then told her to practice at that moderate pace while the others went on to the rapid forms.

At intervals, throughout the year, Peng would introduce a new form to be added to their practice. On that Monday morning, following the forms drills, she chose to use Wren to demonstrate a new form. In the process, she had Wren move slowly through positions which stretched her cotton-flannel outfit taught over her breasts and hips, even stretching tightly through her crotch and between her buttocks, as Peng’s hands moved across her torso and thighs, demonstrating the proper alignments and transitions.

Of a sudden, Malik excused himself, citing a need to attend to the toilet commode. Such needs sometimes occurred to each of them.

Malik left early for Dorado Springs, having his assigned locomotive, caboose, and crew pick up the Manuela de Ortega at 8:00 o’clock, so that he could spend the full day in the meetings postponed from the prior week.

His first meeting was with Morton Quincy, former Indian agent and current general manager of the Sonora Mining Corporation. That business operated the Sonora silver mine and also owned and managed the six-hundred and forty acres that encompassed most of the town of Dorado Springs, including both the mineral hot spring and the freshwater spring that was the center of the town. Malik had invited Quincy to have breakfast with himself and Peng, who also kept notes of the meeting.

Over one of Wu’s fuyong omelets, Quincy said, “A couple months ago, a man from Texas inquired about purchasing the Hacienda and Spa. I told him it was a community-owned business governed by a corporation. He was insistent that I allow him to approach the chairman of the corporation, and he didn’t believe me when I told him it was Blue Maize. He left in a huff.

“Then, last week, Blue Maize brought me a letter which contained an offer to buy the entire six-hundred forty acres and all improvements for nine hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

Malik was scribbling on a piece of paper. “That looks like about five hundred and fifty dollars for each Sonora man, woman, and child. What did Blue Maize say?”

“He told me he had spoken with the elders and that they had agreed, unanimously, that the springs and the land around them belonged to the people and that they could not be sold at any price.”

“That’s what I would have expected.”

“As did I,” Quincy said. “I wanted to talk to you before I wrote a letter for Blue Maize to sign.”

Malik said, “I’d keep it brief and to the point. Say that, at the unanimous vote of the board of directors, none of the assets of the Sonora Mining Corporation are for sale. Add a sentence saying that it is not an issue of price. Don’t elaborate or include other information or opinion.”

“Then would you read this over?” Quincy handed him a folded sheet. The letter was addressed to Carter Sweeney, General Manager of Lone Star Real Estate & Property Investment in League City, Texas. It read:

Dear Mr. Sweeney,

Thank you for your interest in the holdings of the Sonora Mining Corporation. Please be advised that the board of directors has reviewed your offer and has unaninously supported a resolution which asserts that no assets of the corporation are to be sold nor otherwise disposed, nor do I anticipate that condition to change. Be further advised that this position applies without regard to price.

For your reference, any further contact should be made through our attorney, Mr. Emil Malik, Esquire, 1 North Courthouse Avenue, Waypoint, Arenoso.

Best regards,

Blue Maize, Chairman

Sonora Mining Corporation

Malik, handing the letter back to Quincy, asked, “Is this Carter Sweeney the same man who approached you a couple months ago?”

“Yes. He told me that he and his two brothers had formed the company.” Then Quincy asked, “Was it proper to refer them to you?”

“Sure. Just the mention of a lawyer usually dampens most folks’ enthusiasm.” After a momentary pause, Malik asked, “Do you know where League City is, in Texas?”

“I looked it up in my atlas. It is situated about midway between Houston and Galveston.”

“Really? How did Carter Sweeney discover the Spa?”

“He was a guest for a week. Whether he came as a tourist or on a scouting trip I could not say.”

“Did you hire a new mining engineer?”

“No. We’ve decided to shut down the mine when Emmet leaves. I understand the Dry Valleys Co-op plans to do the same.”

“So the hi-grading is complete?”

“There are a couple pockets we bypassed following the primary vein, but those should be cleaned out by the end of the month. And I heard the Dry Valleys mine broke out into that fault canyon just yesterday. So it looks like they have run out the primary vein, too.”

“Andy says the price of copper has been rising, but has settled for the moment. Has Emmet said anything about the copper ore?”

“He said that the price would have to rise and sustain another cent-and-a-half per pound. Then it would be worth reopening the mines and processing the ore for both copper and silver.”

Malik was shaking his head. “Andy says that there are copper mines in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula that are becoming big producers. My wife’s father manages one. They have cheaper transport, being on Lake Superior, with connections to the other Great Lakes. They can take the ore by water to Chicago, or Detroit, or even Buffalo, or through the Erie Canal to the Hudson. Even more, the Welland Canal, allows them access to the Saint Lawrence River. He said it’s more likely the price of copper will drop. Raul Castillo agrees.”

Malik concluded, “On the positive side, dropping prices means we can buy electric cable and telephone wire at a more reasonable price.”

“I suppose you would know, Emil. Is your hydro-electric dam working out the way you had imagined?”

“Even better. I wish we had more customers. We’re thinking of running a line up to Texas Bend. And we’re probably going to go ahead with a generator below the dam out at the ranch. All of which means we’d prefer to see lower copper prices.”

Malik chuckled, but with a grim overtone. “I reckon what that means, between mining copper ore and buying copper wire, I’m not sure if price changes means we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t or if we’re blessed if we do, blessed if we don’t.”

Quincy replied, “You could say that you can’t lose.”

“Or we can’t win,” Malik countered. “But you’re right. It’s not a bad position to be in, where it’s beneficial either way. And if the price stays low, it’s not like that copper ore out on Shepherds Ridge is going to evaporate or some such. It’ll still be there when the price goes up.

“But what about Sonora Mining? Do you intend to hold on to the mine?”

“As you are aware, un-allotted reservation land will go on sale within a year. That means we’d have to buy the mine to keep it. What we plan is to place a low bid. The board has approved that, and the elders are not interested in getting into a bidding war, so we are not going to offer a higher bid. Maybe Dry Valleys Cooperative should bid.”

“Maybe,” Malik said. “Or maybe the railroad will bid on it. We’ll see. We’d rather the Sonora hold onto it, as a future resource. Maybe no one else will bid, what with all of the easy silver gone and the silver prices droppong.

“What else are you up to?”

“Long Hand, who has been elected to the elder’s council, has suggested we either sell or lease recreation lots along both Sweetwater and Soda Creeks, east of the railroad right-of-way. How is your Riverside project working out?”

“Good. We’re offering a fifty-year lease, with an option on a twenty-five year extension. That way our children and grandchildren will have an opportunity to decide how they want to use the land. Lessees can build their own place, though we have to authorize any improvements. Or we’ll build a place for them. Beatrice has drawn up plans for six easy-to-build structures. Two are adobe, two are log, and two are frame construction with milled lumber. Each can be built with two or four bedrooms.”

“Would you sell us a copy of those plans?”

“You pay for the draftsman and you can copy them. It might be good practice for one of the Sonora’s engineering students. I think I could persuade Beatrice to review the copies for errors.”

“We would be grateful. But tell me: do you still like the long-term lease, rather than selling the land?”

“Andy and I don’t like to sell our major landholdings and figure there’s no good reason to sell land, unless you’re desperate for money. Now, having said that, I admit I sold quite a number of parcels and some significant acreage in ‘eighty six and ‘eighty seven. But that’s what allowed me to buy into the railroad. As it was, that land was scattered all over, so it was hard to manage and I really didn’t have any plans for it. I may regret it someday, but I doubt it. Investing in the K and ASR has benefitted me in ways I never imagined.”

“The Sonora are of like mind; the elders do not want to sell the land, either.”

“Keep in mind, we’re expecting an economic downturn. I wouldn’t use the Sonora’s money to develop the project. If you lease, let the lessor’s pay for improvements.

“Have you come up with a name?”

“A name?”

“For your recreation home projects.”

“Oh, you mean like ‘Riverside.’ No. It hasn’t even come up in discussion.”

“That’s the fun part. Let me nominate ‘Streamside’ for the Sweetwater Creek project and maybe call the other ‘Soda Springs’.”

Quincy smiled and slowly shook his head. “We will take it under advisement,” he said, grinning.

Malik was also to meet with Blue Maize, with Mockingbird and Stands-To-Cougar, the couple who managed the Hacienda and Spa, and with Sheriff Ulney, and with Father Ignacio Ramos, the headmaster of the Jesuit school.

He sat down with Ramos in an empty classroom, while the children were outdoors, practicing archery.

“I hear that you are starting Catholic schools in Ranch Home and Waypoint.”

“My brother and I are providing start-up costs and some continuing support.”

“You will depend on the Sisters of Notre Dame du Sacre Couer?”

“Yes. I know the order from my time at La Paz University. Their western US province is headquartered there.”

“Yes, they are known to my Order and often work with us. In fact, they contacted me before they came out here to visit.”

“Did they, now? That Sister Mary Vincent really raked me over the coals. Was that your doing, Padre?”

“Most assuredly not. I wrote only of your clearly-demonstrated interest in education.”

“I’m just kidding, Padre. I suspect that, if Jesus were to come again in one of her schools, Sister Mary Vincent would take him to task for disrupting the class.”

Ramos chuckled, then said, “I understand the Kansas and Arizona Southern Railroad operates nine branches.”

“In fact, we just sold one and are negotiating on the sale of part of another. We expect to have only eight branches within a few months.”

“According to the timetable, the Fort Birney Branch is two hundred and ninety five miles long. Are there longer branches?”

“Just one. The Arizona Southern branch, between Yuma and Prescott Junction, is three hundred nineteen miles. The others range between two hundred eleven miles and ninety-one miles. Our branch down in Texas was the longest, but we’re selling part of it. Are you thinking of going into railroading, Padre Ramos?”

Ramos smiled. “No, Mister Malik, but working with you has given me an idea. Have you ever heard of LaSalle Junior College of Framingham, Massachusetts, or Vianney Junior College of South Bend, Indiana?”

Malik shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I have. But isn’t Notre Dame University in South Bend?”

“Indeed, though there is no administrative connection. LaSalle started out as a girls’ finishing school.’

“I’m familiar with the concept. My sister-in-law attended a one-year finishing school in Saint Louis.”

“The Vianney College started out as a normal school, two years of advanced education for teachers, again, for women. However, last year they opened their enrollment to men.”

Ramos paused, momentarily, and Malik waited.

Ramos said, “I only mention these schools as examples of the so-called junior college institution. There are other two year colleges that teach trade skills, such as masonry, or nursing, or boilermaking, or social work.”

“Social work?”

“It’s a new field for women, or men, I suppose, who want to work for secular welfare agencies, like insane asylums, or work homes, child welfare, even schools in poor neighborhoods. They generally attempt to help people learn to get along on their own, so they are less dependent on public and private assistance.

“To return to my subject, some junior colleges also act to prepare students for a four-year college. In those instances, the education is of a caliber that most or all of the class credits can transfer to a four-year college.”

Malik looked at Ramos and said, “And you’re thinking the K and ASR should sponsor a junior college ... what? At each branch?”

Ramos sat up straight, beaming. He said, “What a fine idea, Mister Malik. How clever and generous of you.”

Malik laughed and laughed. When at last he calmed and caught his breath, he said, “Padre Ramos, you are as subtle as a mule kick. I trust that was not your best display of trying to make the other man think it was his idea, because you’re rotten at it.” Malik chuckled for several more seconds. Then he said, “Tell me more.”

Ramos pulled a sheet of paper from a pocket in his cassock.

“The purpose of the schools would be to draw young people from along that branch line for advanced education. Where practical, the junior college would be located near the center of the branch line, simply to equalize travel distances. The first two quarters would be general subject matter.” Ramos stood to write on the chalkboard:

Quarter 1 & 2

Mathematics

Science

Composition

Geography

Civics

The Arts

“The last quarter would allow up to three electives among seven specialties” He began a second column:

Quarter 3

Child Development

Human Biology

Business Practices

Agriculture

Construction

Earth Science

College Preparation.

“Those five survey courses would allow students to test their interest and ability in one of the seven second year specializations.” Ramos added a third column to the board:

Year 2

Teaching

Nursing & Medical School Preparation

Civil Engineering & Construction

Metal Smithing & Pipefitting

Agriculture & Animal Husbandry

Business Practices & Bookkeeping

College Preparation.

“Each school would specialize in one of those fields. The students would attend their local branch college the first year, and then attend the school which offers the specialty they’ve chosen the second year.”

“You’ve listed seven specialties for eight schools,” Malik observed

“Ah, yes. I expect a course like college preparation may have more students applying. I thought it could be offered at two locations. If it turns out some other specialization is more popular, the locations could be adjusted accordingly.”

“How many students?”

“Perhaps two hundred in a school’s first-year class, maybe two-twenty. Second year classes will likely be smaller.”

“Have you given a thought to costs?”

“I have.” He wrote on the board, “$35,000.”

Ramos explained, “I estimate that to be the construction cost of dormitories, classrooms, laboratories, dining and assembly hall, kitchen, athletic field, and offices, for each location.”

Under that, he wrote, “$25,000.”

Ramos said, “I expect that will be the cost of equipping each school with everything from bed linen to Bunsen burners.”

“So, capital costs of some four hundred eighty thousand dollars. What about operational costs?”

Next to the other numbers, Ramos wrote, “$30,000.”

He added, “That’s with an average of twelve hundred dollars a year for instructors.”

“Twelve hundred? That seems high.”

Ramos shrugged. “It is. You want the best, not the cheapest.”

“Well, yeah, but even a thousand is high, for a nine-month job.”

Ramos said nothing.

Malik asked, “Who pays for all this?”

“If we managed to have four hundred and fifty students between two classes, they could pay for the operating costs, if they were assessed a tuition of sixty-seven dollars a year.”

“Few can afford that,” Malik said. “In addition, it assumes full attendance. And we’re still carrying the start-up costs.” He shrugged. “I mean, I like the idea, but this looks just too expensive.”

Then he looked at the numbers on the board, and back at Ramos. “Besides, it appears that our economy may be headed toward a recession within a few years. Money’s going to be even tighter.”

Ramos appeared crestfallen. He looked wistfully at the numbers on the board and said, “I did not propose this as a practical consideration, Mister Malik. I understand it to be an extraordinary undertaking. As you well know, the education of our young people is an investment in our own future. We should not expect it to pay its own way, nor burden the students with the full cost, as the benefit devolves onto all of us.”

Malik fixed his gaze on the priest for a long moment. Finally, he said, “If this is to require the support of the railroad, then perhaps we should make the curriculum more germane to the railroad. For that matter, railroading has become, after farming, perhaps the most prolific occupation in the country. A man, or woman, for that matter, who learns the skills necessary to build or repair a locomotive can transfer those skills to practically any steam engine or boiler operation in any field. If we also design the business, engineering, and even the health specialties to use the railroad as their practical model, it would benefit both the student and the railroad, in very immediate ways, while still providing those more general benefits to the nation.”