The broad streets of Vegas were swarming with traffic as Wiley glided swiftly into town and he noticed that people looked at him curiously. Perhaps it was all imagination but it seemed to him they eyed him coldly. Yet what they thought or felt was nothing to him then–his business was with Samuel J. Blount. The mine was unprotected–he had not even told his foreman that he was leaving, or where he was going–and there was no time for anything but business. If there was any trouble for him, Samuel J. Blount was at the bottom of it, and he drove straight up to the bank. It was a huge, granite structure with massive onyx pillars and smiling young clerks at the grilles; but he hurried past them all and turned down a hall to a room that was marked: President–Private. This was no time for dallying or sending in cards–he opened the door and stepped in.
Samuel Blount was sitting at the head of a table with other men grouped about him, but as Wiley Holman entered they were silent. He glanced at Blount and then again at the men–they were the 240directors of the Paymaster Mining and Milling Company!
“Good morning, Mr. Holman,” spoke up Blount with asperity. “Please wait for me out in the hall.”
“Since when?” retorted Wiley and then, leaping to the point, “what about that deed to the Paymaster?”
“Why–you must be misinformed,” replied Blount slowly, at the same time pressing a button, “this is a meeting of the Board of Directors.”
“So I see,” returned Wiley, “but I sent the money by Virginia to take up the option on the mine. Did you receive it or did you not?”
A broad-shouldered man, very narrow between the eyes, came in and stood close to Wiley, and Blount smiled and cleared his throat.
“No,” he said, “we did not receive it?”
“Oh, you didn’t, eh?” said Wiley, glancing up at the janitor. “Perhaps you will tell me if it was offered to you?”
“No, it was not offered to us,” replied Blount, smiling blandly, “although Miss Huff did make a deposit.”