"I just got this. I made a hit with the Okar agent last week, and he sent a man over with it. That's a damned scoundrelly bunch that's working against you! Do you know what they've done?"
Sanderson said nothing, and the engineer resumed, explosively:
"They've tied up your money at the Lazette bank! My material men won't send a pound of stuff to me until they get the cash! We're stopped—dead still!"
He passed a telegram to Sanderson, who read:
Bank here refuses to honor Sanderson's check. Claim money belongs to Bransford estate. Legal tangle. Must have cash or won't send material.
THE BRANDER COMPANY.
A flicker of Sanderson's eyelids was all the emotion he betrayed to Williams. The latter looked at him admiringly.
"By George," he said, "you take it like a major! In your shoes I'd get off my nag and claw up the scenery!"
Sanderson smiled. After telling the engineer to do as much as he could without the material, he rode on.
He had betrayed no emotion in the presence of Williams, but he was seething with passion.