"Here?" asked Carnac, smiling.
"Not here, but in the building. There is a room where we can be alone, and I have to tell you something of great importance."
"Of great importance? Well, so have I to tell you, Tarboe."
A few minutes later they were in the Mayor's private parlour, hung with the portraits of past Governors and Mayors, and carrying over the door the coat-of-arms of the Province.
Presently Carnac said: "Let me give you my news first, Tarboe: I am to marry Junia Shale—and soon."
Tarboe nodded. "I expected that. She is worth the best the world can offer." There was a ring of honesty in his tone. "All the more reason why I should tell you what my news is, Carnac. I'm going to tell you what oughtn't yet to be told for another two years, but I feel it due you, for you were badly used, and so I break my word to your father."
Carnac's hand shot out in protest, but Tarboe took no notice. "I mean to tell you now in the hour of your political triumph that—"
"That I can draw on you for ten thousand dollars, perhaps?" shot out
Carnac.
"Not for ten thousand, but in two years' time—or to-morrow—for a hundred and fifty times that if you want it."
Carnac shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you're driving at, Tarboe. Two years from now—or to-morrow—I can draw on you for a hundred and fifty times ten thousand dollars! What does that mean? Is it you're tired of the fortune left you by the biggest man industrially French-Canada has ever known?"