“No, I sha’n’t let you do that, Forsyth; but I shall come up later on, if you will let me. I’ll own up frankly; I am in trouble, well up to my neck, and, barring yourself, there isn’t a soul in Denver that I can talk to.”
“All right; you come up and unload on me. I’ll look for you about the time the forms go down.”
It was the word fitly spoken, and Brant turned away with a warm spot in his heart. High ideals and puissant resolves are all very well in their way, but a single grain of human sympathy strikes deeper root and bears better fruit. For the time Brant felt at peace with all men, and instead of going back to the purlieus to renew the search for Harding, as he had intended, he went in quite the opposite direction, being minded to go to his office and work on the map while he waited on Forsyth’s leisure. So ran the intention; but at the corner he came upon Jarvis, and was straightway turned aside to do a better thing.
CHAPTER XVIII
“LET THE RIGHTEOUS SMITE ME FRIENDLY”
“Hello, Brant!” said the reporter. “Been to see Forsyth?”
“Yes.”
“Then you are posted, of course. What do you think about it?”
“I hardly know what to think of it yet,” replied Brant, unwilling to go into details with Jarvis. “You are sure those fellows were talking about me, and not about somebody else?”
“I’m sure they were talking about a man named Brant who boards at Mrs. Seeley’s. That makes the peg fit the hole, doesn’t it?”
“It seems to. I guess we shall have to call it a mystery, and hope to learn more about it later on. Going upstairs?”