A pause followed.
“Sorenson, your boy is engaged to her,” Vorse stated.
“Yes.”
“Then it’s up to him to get it first thing in the morning. Maybe it goes against the grain to let him know about this business of the past, but it ain’t going to knock him over; he’s no fool, he’s a wise bird, he understands that a good many things are done in business that aren’t advertised. He knows we weren’t missionaries in the old days. And she’ll hand it over for him when she might not for any one else.”
“That’s right, Sorenson,” Burkhardt affirmed, his scowling face visibly clearing.
“Ed went away somewhere this evening, that’s the only drawback to your scheme. Said something about Bowenville and catching the night train to Santa Fé, and that he might be gone maybe a couple of days and maybe a week.”
“Hell!” Burkhardt exploded, in consternation.
Vorse however remained cool.
“Then you must start telegrams to head him off, start them the instant you get home. Telephone to Bowenville the message you want sent and have the operator dispatch it to all trains going both ways since early evening, in order to make sure. If you can reach him within two or three hours, wherever he is, he can hop off, 185 catch a train back and be here by to-morrow evening. Make your message urgent. And meanwhile we’ll do what we can to get hold of that paper. At any rate we can keep her from seeing Weir. If we have to watch her we’ll do it; and if we have to stop her from going to the dam we’ll do that someway too. You might invite her over to-morrow to spend the day at your house.”
“Do you think she’ll be likely to come if she reads that document?” the banker inquired coldly.