His name had become forcefully identified with other things and, in the employ of Snowdon’s company, he had been into those parts of the world which call to a man of energy and constructive ability of major calibre. But the joy of seeing mine fields open to the rush where there had been only desert before: of seeing chasms bridged into roadways had not been enough to banish the brooding which sprung from the old stigma. In remote places he had encountered occasional army men to remind him that he was no longer one of them and, though he was often doing worthier things than they, they were bound by regulations which branded him.
So Spurrier had hardened, not into outward crustiness of admitted chagrin, but with an inner congealing of spirit which made him look on life as a somewhat merciless fight and what he could wrest from life as the booty of conquest.
One day, in Snowdon’s office after a more than usually difficult task had reached accomplishment, the 65 chief candidly proclaimed justification for his first estimate of his aide, and Spurrier smiled.
“It’s generous of you to speak so, sir,” he said slowly, “and I’m glad to leave you with that impression—because with many regrets I am leaving you.”
The older man raised his brows in surprise.
“I had hoped our association would be permanent,” he responded. “I suppose, though, you have an opening to a broader horizon. If so it comes as recognition well earned.”
“It’s an offer from Martin Harrison, sir,” came the reply in slowly weighed words. “There are objections, of course, but the man who gains Harrison’s confidence stands in the temple of big money.”
“Yes. Of course Harrison’s name needs no amplification.” The man who had opened a door for Spurrier in what had seemed a blank wall, sat for a moment silent then broke out with more than his customary emphasis of expression. “Objection from me may seem self-interested because I am losing a valuable assistant. But—damn it all, Harrison is a pirate!”
Spurrier’s tanned cheeks flushed a shade darker but he nodded his head. His fine eyes took on that glint of hardness which, in former times, had never marred their engaging candor.
“I’d like to have you understand me, sir. I owe you that much and a great deal more. I know that Harrison and his ilk of big money operators are none too scrupulous—but they have power and opportunity and those are things I must gain.”