“The boss has approved of every move in the game,” he said, with a half-hearted laugh. “You see, here he authorizes us to take even less than MacGonigal paid for the mill, and, when Willard repaid the loan, he refused to accept it, but cabled that the money was a gift from Mrs. Marten. So I don’t think he can hold us responsible.”
“It’s not the responsibility I’m kicking at, but the smooth way in which I was bested,” growled Page. “Now, who’d have thought Power had it in him?”
“Well, I would, for one,” said Benson.
“Why, you hardly knew him.”
“I met him under exceptional conditions.”
“But how the deuce did he manage to locate that lost vein—I suppose that is what he has found?”
“Perhaps it was a gift from the gods.”
“I do wish you’d talk sense,” said the irritated manager.
“What you would call sense might not pass for wisdom on Olympus,” smiled Benson.
“Will you kindly tell me what you are driving at?”