“Partner, it looks like a forlorn hope,” said Bryce.
“Well, you're the boy to lead it. And it will cost but little to put in the crossing and take a chance. Remember, Bryce, once we have that crossing in, it stands like a spite-fence between Pennington and the law which he knows so well how to pervert to suit his ignoble purposes.” He turned earnestly to Bryce and waved a trembling admonitory finger. “Your job is to keep out of court. Once Pennington gets the law on us, the issue will not be settled in our favour for years; and in the meantime—you perish. Run along now and hunt up Ogilvy. George, play that 'Suwannee River' quartet again. It sort o' soothes me.”
CHAPTER XXV
It was with a considerably lighter heart that Bryce returned to the mill-office, from which he lost no time in summoning Buck Ogilvy by telephone.
“Thanks so much for the invitation,” Ogilvy murmured gratefully. “I'll be down in a pig's whisper.” And he was. “Bryce, you look like the devil,” he declared the moment he entered the latter's private office.
“I ought to, Buck. I've just raised the devil and spilled the beans on the N. C. O.”
“To whom, when, and where?”
“To Pennington's niece, over the telephone about two hours ago.”