"No; I find it harder to sell my farm than I imagined. The settlement covenant's the trouble, and I don't feel inclined to give the land away. I want a talk with you. Will you come to my hotel?"
Harding agreed, and a few minutes later they sat down in a quiet corner of the hotel lounge.
"How's your campaign against the moneylender progressing?" Brand began abruptly.
"Then you know something about it?"
"I'm not a fool. I've been watching the game with interest for some time. I have a reason for asking; you can be frank with me."
Harding knew when to trust a man and, in spite of what had happened, he trusted Brand. When he had given him a short explanation, Brand seemed satisfied.
"Very well; now I have something to say. My prejudices are against you; they're on Mowbray's side, but I'm beginning to see that his position is untenable. It seems I can't get a fair price for my farm, and after spending some happy years on it, I have a sentimental affection for the place. Don't know that I'd care to see it fall into the hands of some raw English lad whose inexperience would be a danger to Allenwood. The drift of all this is—will you work the land for me if we can make a satisfactory arrangement?"
Harding hesitated.
"I don't know that I could take a favor——"
"From me? Don't make a mistake. I'm not acting out of any personal regard for you. On the whole, I'd rather see you in control of Allenwood than a mortgage broker; that's all."