"Then that's the answer. As long as there 's a bit of fight left in us, we 'll keep at that mine. I don't know where it's going to lead us—but from appearances as they stand now, the only outlook seems to be ruin. But if you 're willing, I 'm willing, and we 'll make the scrap together."
Harry hitched at his trousers.
"They 've got that blooming skeleton out by this time. I 'm willing to start—any time you say."
The breath went over Fairchild's teeth in a long, slow intake. He clenched his hands and held them trembling before him for a lengthy moment. Then he turned to his partner.
"Give me an hour," he begged. "I 'll go then—but it takes a little grit to—"
"Who's Fairchild here?" A messenger boy was making his way along the curb with a telegram. Robert stretched forth a hand in surprise.
"I am. Why?"
The answer came as the boy shoved forth the yellow envelope and the delivery sheet. Fairchild signed, then somewhat dazedly ran a finger under the slit of the envelope. Then, wondering, he read:
Please come to Denver at once. Have most important information for you.
R. V. Barnham,
H & R Building.