"I want you to do me the favour, McCall," answered Sothern. "Mr. Drennen, yesterday the only man in the West empowered to do business for the Northwestern upon such a scale as this was Mr. McCall. But things have happened in the East. Our chief, Bruce Elwood, is dead. Mr. McCall goes to-morrow to Montreal, stepping into Mr. Elwood's place. I move on and up into Mr. McCall's."
He paused, his face inscrutable under its dark frown. Suddenly he swung about upon McCall.
"Andy," he said sharply, "you're going to do more than just look at Mr. Drennen's find with us. You're going to act upon his offer as you see fit. As a favour to me, Andy."
Both Drennen and McCall looked at him curiously. Sothern's stern face told nothing.
"As a favour to me, Andy," he repeated. "You bring me word of my promotion. Pigeonhole it until after this deal is made or rejected."
McCall, his hesitation brief, swung about upon Drennen.
"Where is this mine of yours?" he demanded curtly. "How long will it take us to get to it?"
"It's less than forty miles from Lebarge," returned Drennen. "And we can get there in five hours, if we keep on moving."
"You have filed your title, of course?"
"Yes."