"I told you I was sorry—I looked in at an inopportune time—already, and I'll forget it right off," he said. "Now that should content anybody, because there are folks who would think the story too good to be lost."
He got no further, because Alton stepped forward and seized him by the collar, which tore away in his grasp. Then there was a brief scuffle, a scattering of papers up and down the room, and Alton stood gasping in the doorway, while his visitor reeled down the first flight of stairs and into the wall at the foot of it. Alton glanced down at him a moment, and seeing he was not seriously hurt, flung the door to with a bang that rolled from corridor to corridor through the great silent building, before he turned back into the disordered room with a little laugh.
"I've fixed that fellow, anyway, and now I'd better go through those plans until I simmer down," he said.
He picked up the overturned table and his scattered supper, while it was characteristic of him that when an hour later he rolled up a sheet of mill-drawings in a survey plotting of the Somasco valley, he had forgotten all about the incident, which was, however, not the case with the other man. In another twenty minutes he was also fast asleep, and because men commence their work betimes in that country, had disposed of several car-loads of Somasco produce before he breakfasted next morning. During the day he noticed that some of the younger men he met smiled at him curiously, but attached no especial meaning to it. Alton had taught himself to concentrate all his faculties upon his task, and he worked in the city as he had done in the bush, with the singleness of purpose and activity that left no opportunity of considering side issues. He had also, as usual, a good deal to do: buyers of dressed lumber, cattle, and ranching produce to interview; shippers of horses to bargain with: railroad men and politicians to obtain promises of concessions from, and men who had money to lend to interest. The latter was the most difficult task, and now and then his face grew momentarily grave as he remembered the burdens he had already laid upon his ranch and the Somasco Consolidated.
"Still, what we're working for is bound to come, and we'll hold on somehow until it does," he said to Forel, who occasionally remonstrated with him. "When you've helped me to put the new loan through I'll bring Charley or the other man down, and go up and relocate the claim. After the late snowfall nobody could get through the ranges now, but Tom and I could make our way when it wouldn't be possible to any of Hallam's men."
Possibly because he had been successful hitherto, Alton was slightly over-sanguine, and apt to make too small allowance in his calculations for contingencies in which human foresight and tenacity of purpose may not avail. It happened in the meanwhile, though he was, of course, not aware of this, that Deringham had an interview with Hallam in the smoking-room of the big C.P.R. hotel. They did not enter it together, for Deringham was sitting there when Hallam came in, about the time the Atlantic express was starting, which accounted for the fact that there was nobody else present. Deringham appeared a trifle too much at his ease, though his face was pale, for he had not departed from veracity when he informed Forel that his heart had troubled him after listening to Seaforth's story. He nodded to Hallam, and picked out a fresh cigar from the box upon the table before he spoke.
"It is fine weather," he said.
"Oh, yes," said Hallam dryly. "Still, I guess you didn't ask me to come here and talk about the climate."
"No," and Deringham glanced at his cigar. "I meant to tell you that the little speculation you recently mentioned does not commend itself to me. In fact, I have decided that we can have no more dealings of any description together."
"No?" said Hallam, with a little brutal laugh. "Dollars running out?"