The stout man laughed a little, though there was malice in his eye. "And we are not likely to be acquainted? You are, one might presume, a scion of the English aristocracy, come out to recruit your health or wait until it's a little less sultry in the old country."
"I would hardly go so far!"—and Cotton drawled out the words, as he turned upon his heel. "More unlikely things have happened. At present I have the honor of serving her Majesty as—a police trooper."
Lane handed me his cigar-case when the lad strolled out of the door, but I was in no mood to assume an unfelt cordiality. "I am not inclined for smoking. Hadn't we better come straight to business?" I said.
Lane struck a match, and stretched his legs along the window-seat, though he closed the case with a snap. "Why, certainly! You are ready to redeem the mortgage on Gaspard's Trail?"
He spoke pleasantly, though there was a sneer in his eyes, and he had both lighted his cigar, in spite of my hint, and laid his dusty boots on the cushions with a cool assurance that made me long to personally chastise him. "You probably know that I am not," I said.
"I did hear you had lost some cattle," he answered indifferently. "Well, in that case, I wait your proposition."
"I am open to renew the loan at the original interest until this time next year, when, no matter what I may have to part with, it will be paid off. You have already had a very fair return on your money," I said.
"It can't be done," and Lane looked thoughtfully at his cigar. "I'll carry you on that long at double interest, or make you a bid outright for Crane Valley."
"There is no reason in your first offer; you asked only fifty per cent. increase last time, which was enough in all conscience. What do you want with Crane Valley?"
Lane smiled benignly. "You didn't accept that offer formally. Crane Valley's a pretty location, and I've taken a fancy to it."