“I have seven paying guests now,” she declared, “and within a few weeks I hope to increase the number. I’m sure I’ll be able to pay off the loan in another three months.”
“Miss Carl, I admire your determination,” replied the banker, “but I must think about my depositors. I regret to say we cannot renew your note.”
Connie arose, pushing back her chair.
“You refuse to give me a chance,” she said bitterly. “And I know the reason! From the first you have schemed to take over the ranch. Through Pop Bradshaw you plan to gain control of the best land in the county!”
“You’re quite wrong, Miss Carl,” the banker answered quietly. “This rumor that we are taking over the Bradshaw place and running it as a dude ranch is quite unfounded. I have no idea who is behind the idea, but the financing has not gone through this bank.”
“I’m sorry I lost my temper,” Connie apologized. “I’ll try to get the money by the sixteenth.”
She turned quickly and walked from the room. As she opened the door, a tall man who had been standing at the writing desk near the private office partition, ducked his head and slipped out the side door of the bank.
“Why, that looked like Jim Barrows!” Connie thought.
Whoever it was, she believed that he had been listening to her conversation with Mr. Haynes. The walls were thin and she had not taken care to lower her voice. Undoubtedly, the man had heard every word.
Connie darted to the door. She looked up and down the street. The man was nowhere to be seen.