“Hello, Brant,” said the cub, with a free-and-easy swagger born of the place rather than of his temperament. “By gad, I didn’t know you were a sporting man! Shake hands with my friend Mr. Harding.”
Brant scowled, but the boy saw nothing and rattled on: “Going home early to-night. What will you take, gentlemen? It’s on me.”
“Nothing,” said Brant shortly; and Harding drew the boy away.
The pair left the place and went up the street, with Brant a few steps in the rear. At the corner a night-owl carriage was waiting for a chance fare, and Harding opened the door and got in with his companion. At the click of the door latch Brant climbed to a seat beside the driver and gave the order.
“No. 16 Altamont Terrace,” he said; and when the horses were fairly headed for North Denver he lighted a cigar and ventured to anticipate success.
But the triumph was short-lived. While the carriage was yet rumbling over the viaduct the little upflash of triumph flickered and went out. For, however worthy the cause in which he had fought and won, it was Brant the man of violence, and no repentant sinner of them all, who had done the fighting. For the time being he had lapsed as thoroughly as if the new leaf had never been turned, and the dregs of that cup were bitter.
CHAPTER VIII
A BLOW IN THE DARK
When a careful man blunders he is apt to make thorough work of it. If Brant had suspected the use Harding would make of an uninterrupted quarter of an hour with William Langford, it is safe to assume that no preventive, however heroic, would have failed to commend itself to the rescuer; and he should have foreseen. Any tenderfoot of them all would have been less blunt-witted, he told himself afterward in much bitterness of spirit. But that was after the fact. While he was smoking his cigar on the box and tasting some of the aloe dregs of the cup of lapsings, Harding was making the most of his opportunity.
“No, Willie, I can’t say when I may be back in Denver. A man with a big mine on his hands can’t play marbles all the time, you know. Has to look after his ante or they’ll steal him blind.”
“Of course,” agreed Will; and then, “Where is your mine?”