“I do. Certainly until the mine makes a better showing.”
Again Mr. Eggleston tried to interrupt and again he was waved into silence.
“When did you arrive at this conclusion?”
“This morning. I thought differently yesterday, but I have changed my mind. So much so that it would be impossible for me to go on with this loan.”
“Shall I take that message to the president?”
“Yes. If I have any cause to change my opinion I’ll let him know. But it is not likely I will—I’m sorry to have given you all this trouble.”
“Thank you,” said the trust company’s representative, rising from his chair and extending his hand to Philip. “I might as well tell you that we have heard similar reports and our president felt sure that you would give him the facts. He has great confidence in you, Mr. Colton. If he authorizes me to sign the papers after what you have said to me I’ll be back here in a few moments. Good-day, sir!” and with a grim smile lighting his face, the treasurer nodded himself out.
Eggleston waited until the trust company’s attorney had gathered up his papers and had closed the door behind him—a mere matter of routine with him; almost every day a transaction of this kind was either deferred or culminated—then he swung himself around in his revolving chair, his cheeks purple with rage, and faced Philip.
“Well, sir! what do you think of the mess you’ve made of this morning’s business! Do you for one instant suppose that Stockton will go on with this deal after what you have told him?”
“If he did, sir, it would not be with my consent,” answered Philip coldly.