"We must wait for Stannard's report," said Deering soothingly. "When I was at the hotel the clerk gave me a letter for you."
Jimmy beat his numbed hands and opened the envelope. Then he laughed, a dreary laugh.
"In a way, the thing's a joke! Leyland's has something to do with a Japanese cotton mill and Sir Jim writes from Tokio. He's going to England by Vancouver and sails on board the first C.P.R. boat. He means to stop for a few days and look me up—" Jimmy studied the postmark and resumed: "I expect he's at Vancouver now."
"Your luck is certainly bad," Deering remarked in a sympathetic voice.
"Jim's the head of the house; Dick owns him boss," Jimmy went on. "His letter's kind, and if he'd arrived before, when I was making good, I might have got his support. I wanted to persuade him I was not a careless fool; but when he gets to know my recent exploits—"
Deering imagined Jimmy had wanted his uncle to agree about his marrying Margaret. Since Sir James was a sober business man, the lad had not much grounds to hope he would approve his nephew's romantic adventures.
"After all, I rather think we'll cheat the police," he said. "They don't know where we are and when we make the valley we'll hit up the pace. I've friends who'll help you across the frontier and you can sail for England from New York."
"The drawback is, we can't make the valley. Stannard can't lead us down," Stevens interrupted gloomily.
Deering looked up. "We'll know soon. I hear steps."
Stannard came round the corner, saw Deering, and stopped, rather quickly.