Noon seemed a very long time coming, and the report of the broker who arrived with it far from reassuring. "We have sold a fair block of stock, and I brought you the contracts to sign," he said. "Settlement and all conditions as usual. Each time that we offered a round lot Graham's salesman and another man took them up."
"Lane is taking hold. He has stirred up his allies," said Haldane. "I'll put my name to these papers, and you can call down another few dollars when you start again. I suppose there is no other person selling?"
"No," said the broker. "There were a good many other men curious about our game, and I fancy one or two of them had instructions; but they did nothing. We'll work up a sensation during the afternoon."
It would have greatly pleased me to hear of other persons parting with their shares; but Haldane still looked confident, and Boone appeared to place implicit faith in his generalship. I, however, grew more and more anxious as the afternoon dragged by, for my sense of responsibility to the men behind me increased when each tinkle of the telephone bell was followed by a message reporting further sales. Somebody was steadily taking up the stock we offered, and when, for the fourth time, Haldane had answered my question, "Any sign of weakness yet?" in the negative, I could stay indoors no longer, and found it a relief to stride briskly through the busy streets towards a grain buyer's offices.
My own personal risk was heavy enough, but I knew also what it had cost my prairie neighbors to raise the sum they had credited me with, and I felt that, if beaten, I dare not return and face them with the news that, losing all in an unsuccessful gamble, we had left them doubly helpless at the mercy of a triumphant enemy. The interview with the grain merchant was, however, in a measure comforting. He admitted that prices were improving, stated approximate figures which almost surprised me, and volunteered the information that when my crop should be gathered he would be glad to make me an offer. Although prospects were good in Western Canada, cereals were scarce everywhere else; and I returned so involved in mental calculations that I walked into several citizens, one of whom swore fluently. He wore toothpick-pointed shoes, and in my abstraction I had, it seemed, trodden cruelly on his toes.
Boone came up while I attempted to apologize, and tapped me on the shoulder. "What do you think of this amusement, Ormesby? It seems to have had the effect of dazing you," he said. "You were walking right past the hotel as though your eyes were shut."
"To be candid, I think very little of it," I said. "Still, I was puzzling over a slightly complicated sum to ascertain how much—counting every remaining beast, salable implement, and load of grain—would, when I have paid off Lane, remain my own."
"Planning your campaign for next year?" asked Boone, with a trace of dryness.
"No," I answered. "It will not be a great deal, but I'm open to stake the last cent on beating Lane."
"Good man!" said Boone. "We are going to beat him; and, to show that I am prepared to back my convictions, I may say that I have already hypothecated every pennyworth of my English property."