Gordon waved one hand. “Oh,” he averred, “she’s very dainty, and I think there’s a little more than prettiness there, which is a very liberal admission, since I’m troubled with an impression that she isn’t quite pleased with me. Still, when the woods are full of pretty girls, I guess it’s wisest of a man who has anything worth while to do in front of him to keep his eyes right on the trail, and go steadily ahead.” He turned to Wisbech deprecatingly. “We don’t mind you, sir. We regard you as part of the concern.”
“Thanks,” said Wisbech, with a certain dryness. “I believe I am interested in it––at least, financially.”
“Well,” said Gordon, “when I break loose, as I do now and then, I quite often say a little more than is strictly advisable without meaning to. It’s a habit some folks have. Your observation, however, switches us off on to a different matter. I’ve been telling your nephew we leave him to handle the thing and stand by our offers.”
“That is precisely what I mean to do. The affair is Derrick’s. He must take his own course,” declared Wisbech.
Gordon grinned as he turned to Nasmyth. “There will be no reinforcements. You have to win your spurs.” Then he looked at Wisbech. “If you will not be offended, 199 sir, I would like to say I’m pleased to notice that your ideas coincide with mine. He’ll be the tougher afterwards if you let him put up his fight alone.”
“The assurance is naturally satisfactory,” said Wisbech with quiet amusement. Then he held up one hand. “It seems to me the person at the piano is playing exceptionally well.”
They sat silent while the crashing opening chords rang out from the lighted room, and then Nasmyth, who was a lover of music, found himself listening with a strained attention as the theme stole out of them, for it chimed with his mood. He had been restless and disturbed in mind before Gordon had flung his veiled hints at him, and the reality underlying his comrade’s badinage had a further unsettling effect. He did not know what the music was, but it seemed in keeping with the throb of the sea against the crag and the fitful wailing of the pines. There was a suggestion of effort and struggle in it, and, it seemed to him, something that spoke of a great dominant force steadily pressing on; and, as he listened, the splash of the sea grew fainter, and he heard instead the roar of the icy flood and the crash of mighty trees driving down upon his half-built dam. These were sounds which sometimes haunted him against his will, and once or twice he had been a little surprised to find that, now that they were past, he could look back upon the months of tense effort with a curious, half-regretful pleasure. He was relieved when the music, that swelled in a sonorous crescendo, stopped, and he saw Gordon glance at Wisbech.
“I think that man has understanding and the gift of expressing what he feels,” said Wisbech. “The music suggested something to you?”
“The fast freight,” confessed Gordon.––“When she’s coming down the big cañon under a full head of steam. I don’t know if that’s quite an elegant simile, in one way. 200 Still, if you care to think how that track was built, it’s not difficult to fancy there’s triumph in the whistles and the roar of the freight-car wheels.”
Wisbech made a sign of comprehension, and Gordon looked hard at Nasmyth. “It’s your call.”