Orlando appeared to examine the paper carefully, and presently he handed it back and said slowly: “That gives you the extra five hundred. It’s a bargain.” How suddenly he had capitulated—
“Cash?” asked the old man triumphantly. How should he know by what means Orlando had been conquered!
“I’ve got a cheque in my pocket. I’ll fill it in.”
“A cheque ain’t cash,” growled the grizzly one.
“You can cash it in an hour. Come in to Askatoon, and I’ll get you the cash with it now,” said Orlando. “I can’t. A man’s coming for a stallion I want to sell. Give me a hundred dollars cash now to clinch the bargain, and I’ll meet you at Askatoon to-morrow and get the whole of it in cash. I don’t deal with banks. I pay hard money, and I get hard money. That’s my rule.”
“Well, you’re in luck, for I’ve got a hundred dollars,” answered Orlando. “I’ve just got that, and a dollar besides, in my pocket. To-morrow you go to my lawyer, Burlingame, at Askatoon, and you’ll get the rest of the money. It will be there waiting for you.”
“Cash?” pressed the old man.
“Certainly: Government hundred-dollar bills. Give me a receipt for this hundred dollars.”
“Come inside,” said the old man almost cheerfully. He loved having his own way. He was almost insanely self-willed. It did his dark soul good to triumph over this “circus rider.”
As Joel Mazarine preceded him, Orlando looked up at the window again. For one instant the beautiful, pale face of the girl-wife appeared, and then vanished.