“All the indications bear you out.”
“He owns mills, and miles of timberland.”
“Um!... Am I to remain in your employ—or shall you accept the—advice—of Mr. Fownes?”
“This is my paper. So long as it is mine I’m going to try to run it. And if that man thinks he can threaten me with his old chattel mortgage, he’s going to wake up one bright morning to find his mistake. Maybe he can take this paper away from me, but until he does it’s mine.... You are working for me, Mr. Pell.”
“Very gratifying.... In which case, if you mean what you say, and if I, with so many years wasted upon books, as you say, may offer a word of advice, this would be it: Find out who owns the Lakeside Hotel.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Protracted study of the various sciences may be folly, but it does train the mind to correct observation and in the ability to arrange and classify the data observed. It teaches how to move from cause to effect. It teaches that things which equal the same thing are equal to each other.”
“What is the Lakeside Hotel?”
“A resort of sordid reputation some three miles from town.”
“And who owns it?”