"Ah!" Marsh exclaimed, quickly. "Are you an Alaskan, Mr. Emerson?"
"Indeed, he is so wedded to the country that he is going back to-morrow," Mildred offered.
Marsh's first look of challenge now changed to one of the liveliest interest, and Boyd imagined the fellow endeavoring to link him, through the affair at the restaurant, with the presence of Big George in Chicago. Although the full significance of the meeting had not struck the young lover yet, upon the heels of his first surprise came the realization that this man was to be not only his rival in love, but the greatest menace to the success of his venture—that venture which meant the world to him.
"Yes," he answered, cautiously, "I am a typical Alaskan—disappointed, but not discouraged."
"What business?"
"Mining!"
"Oh!" indifferently. Marsh addressed himself to Mr. Wayland: "I told you the commercial opportunities in that country were far greater than those in the mining business. All miners have the same story." Sensing the slight in his tone, rather than in his words, Mildred hastened to the defence of her fiance, nearly causing disaster thereby.
"Boyd has something far better than mining now. He was telling me about it as—"
"You interrupted us," interjected Emerson, panic stricken. "I didn't have time to explain the nature of my enterprise."
The girl was about to put in a disclaimer, when he flashed a look at her which she could not help but heed. "I am very stupid about such things," she offered, easily. "I would not have understood it, I am sure." To her father, she continued, leaving what she felt to be dangerous ground: "I didn't look for you so early."