“I am Chester Rand, with whom you have had some correspondence,” said Chester, tendering his card. “I have just arrived from New York.”
The broker regarded him in surprise.
“You Chester Rand?” he exclaimed. “Why, you are a boy.”
“I must plead guilty to that indictment,” said Chester, smiling, “but I am the owner of the lots which I understand are wanted for the new hotel.”
David Mullins, who heard this conversation, looked up in amazement. He had not known of the correspondence with Chester, as Mr. Dean had written his letter personally, and it had not gone through the office.
“Can you furnish any evidence of this?” asked Mr. Dean.
“Here is the letter you sent me, and here is a copy of my reply.”
The broker took the letter from Chester’s hand and all doubt vanished from his countenance.
“I am glad to see you here so soon, Mr. Rand,” he said, “as the parties with whom I am negotiating are anxious to conclude matters as soon as possible. Will you go over with me to Mr. Taylor’s office? Taylor and Pearson are the parties’ names.”
“I will go with pleasure.”