"We can't afford to let go, or to sub-lease—"
"Of course not, after the stand we've taken. There's talk on the street about the bank, now, and—I'd give a good deal to know where it comes from." The junior Nelson had heard similar echoes, but he held his tongue. "I never did like your way of doing business," the speaker resumed, fretfully. "We've overreached. You wanted it all and—this is the result."
Now Henry Nelson was warranted in resenting this accusation, for it had ever been Bell's way to pursue a grasping policy, therefore he cried, angrily:
"That's right; pass the buck. You know you wouldn't listen to anything else. If we're in deep, you're more to blame than I."
"Nothing of the sort." Old Bell began a profane denial, but the younger man broke in, irritably:
"I've never won an argument with you, so have it your own way. But while you're raising money for the Avenger offsets, you'd better raise plenty, for Gray is going to punch holes down as fast as ever he can."
"Who is this Gray? What's he got against you?"
Henry's eyes shifted. "Has he got anything against me? He bought a good lease and was wise enough to get somebody to make a well for him—"
"Those crooks! Those wildcatters!"
"Now, he proposes to develop his acreage as rapidly as possible.
Nothing strange about that, is there?"