“Hullo, Power, that you? Come and join me in a parting drink.”
It was Dacre, the one person in the hotel from whom such an invitation was not an insufferable nuisance at the moment.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry,” said Power, “as I am off tomorrow morning; but I’m glad to find you here. You’ve received my note?”
“Yes. Sit down. I’m just going to light a cigar, and the match will help you to mix your own poison. Had a pleasant evening?”
It was a natural though curiously pertinent question; but Power was at no loss for an answer.
“I have really been arranging certain details as a preliminary to my departure,” he said.
“Where are you bound for, New York?”
“After some days, or weeks, perhaps. I hardly know yet.”
“You’ve changed your plans, it seems?”
Power remembered then that he had invited the Englishman to visit Colorado. It was practically settled that Dacre should come West within three weeks or a month.