Together they ate a bite of supper, and then Henty set out on horseback for the village. He returned before Evan was in bed. Next morning the hired man was informed that he would be left alone for a day or two, and to watch that the old sow didn't get any more of the hens.
Togged out like the homesteader sports they were, Evan and Henty left for Vancouver. They met the syndicate, who seemed to know every foot of land in the Nicola Valley, signed over their 320 acres, received a cheque for $30,000 and a note with security for another thirty, and refused to participate in a drunk.
"We must get back," said Henty; "I've got the live stock to sell yet."
Bill Watson and Evan excused themselves and went into a side office. It was their first opportunity to speak of old times.
"I can't tell you how glad I am you've made good, Evan," said Bill. "How did it all happen?"
Evan briefly related his experience since quitting the bank. Watson listened with interest until it leaked out who "X. Bankclerk" was, after which his silence changed to: "God love you for that!"
Without heeding the exclamation Evan continued with his story, and finally announced his intention of starting a bank union.
"You can do it," said Bill, enthusiastically, "and I'll back you if you need more money. I knew it would come. It had to come!" Then, "Won't you come down and see Hazel?"
"What, you're married!" cried Evan.
"You bet. I kept her waiting long enough, didn't I? But say—won't you come down and see her? I've got something more startling still to tell you about; two things!"