Jimmy would have liked Anne to have seen him this night at the opera. He wrote her a glowing account of it the very next day. And little Anne replied that she was very glad, and proud of him; and in a postscript added simply: “I got the story of ‘La Bohéme’ out of the library, and I read it, and I like it very much.” The pathos of which was entirely lost to Jimmy.
In the office the following Monday morning George Cooper came to Jimmy in great excitement.
“You were right to be afraid of this guy, Hope,” he announced without preface. “I just found out—quite by accident—he’s bought himself a coal property up near Scranton.”
“What—”
“Yes. I don’t know what it means, either. Maybe nothing. He’s got a right to buy himself anything he pleases, I suppose. But it looks suspicious. What does he want with it? From what I could learn, it’s just the sort of place for your plan, too. Not a going coal mine; just a farm with abandoned borings on it. It looks suspicious, doesn’t it?”
Jimmy agreed anxiously that it did. “We’d better see Mr. Wentworth right away, George.”
“He’s away,” said the office manager. “He won’t be back till Tuesday. We’ll see him Wednesday or Thursday; we’re all ready. Have you got that last analysis? Was it the same as the other?”
Jimmy nodded.
“Then we’ll see him sure next week.” Luck was with Cooper and Jimmy that morning, although they didn’t realize it then. Isaac Merkle happened to stroll past them at that moment. A sudden thought came to the office manager.
“There’s Isaac Merkle, Jimmy. He’s a chemist. Let’s put him on this. He may be able to advise us on something we’ve overlooked. It can’t hurt anything now. Wait, I’ll call him over.”