"Well! well!" said Wray heartily. "This is sure like old times. Glad to see you, Bent. It seems like only yesterday that you and Camilla were galloping over the plains together. A year and a half has made some changes, eh? Camilla, can't we have a drink? One doesn't meet old friends every day."
"I rang for tea."
"Tea? Ugh! Not tea, Camilla. I can't get used to these foreign notions. General—Cort—some Scotch? That's better. Tea was invented for sick people and old maids," and then, as the servant entered, "Tell Greer to bring the tray, and some cigars. You'll let us, won't you, Camilla? General Bent and I have been talking for two hours, and if there's any thirstier business than that——"
"I hope we aren't intruding," said the General. "I have been very anxious to meet you, Mrs. Wray."
"I'm very much flattered. I'm afraid, though, that Jeff has taken you out of your way." She paused, conscious that the sharp eyes of the old man were peering at her curiously from under the shadows of his bushy eyebrows. "I feel as if I ought to know you very well," she went on. "In the West your son often spoke of you."
"Did he? H—m!" And then, with a laugh, "Cortland, my boy, what did you say to her? You expected to see an old ogre, didn't you?"
"Oh, no, but you are different from the idea I had of you. You and your son are not in the least alike, are you?"
"No. You see Cortland took the comeliness of the Davidges, and I—well, I won't tell you what they call me in the Street," he laughed grimly. "You know Mr. Wray and I have some interests in the West in common—some properties that adjoin, and some railroads that join. It's absurdly simple. He wants what I have, and I want what he has, and neither of us is willing to give up a square inch. Won't you tell us what to do?"
"I give it up," she laughed. "My husband has a way of getting what he wants."
"The great secret of that," said Wray comfortably, "is wanting what you can get. Still, I don't doubt that when the General's crowd gets through with me there won't be enough of me to want anything. You needn't worry about the 'Lone Tree,' Cortland. You'll have it again, after a while, when my hide is spread out to dry."