"I should say he is," remarked Emerson. "He has just thrown a bomb into our camp that makes my teeth rattle. He promised to back me for one hundred thousand dollars, and this morning went back on his word and lay down, absolutely."
"Begin at the beginning, and tell me everything," commanded the girl. "I'm dying to know what you have been doing. Now, right from the start, mind you."
They had reached Emerson's hotel, and, escorting her to the luncheon-room, he proceeded to trace his progress from the day he had bade her farewell in the snows of Kalvik. They had finished their meal before his narrative came to a close.
"To-day Hilliard called me in and coolly informed me that his bank could not make the loan he had promised me, notwithstanding the fact that I had relied on his assurances and ordered my supplies, which are now being shipped."
"Did he offer any reason for his withdrawal?"
"Oh, I dare say he gave a reason, but he beclouded it with so many words that it was merely a fog by the time he got through. All I could distinguish in the general obscurity was that he would not produce. He said something about the bank being overloaded and the board refusing its consent. It's remarkable what a barricade a banker can build out of one board."
"And yet, as I understand it, you have sold your output in advance, at a fixed price."
"Correct."
"It is very strange! The bank would be perfectly safe."
"He merely bulkheaded himself in with a lot of smooth language, and when I tried to argue myself over I just slid off. The moment I stepped into his office I felt the temperature drop. Something new has come up; what it is, I don't know. Anyhow, he froze me out."