"Only what I have told you. The rest is easy. Had you been less secretive, I would have known instantly whom to blame for this trouble. Wayne Wayland and Willis Marsh are working double, and inasmuch as you are persona non grata—"
"Who told you I am persona non grata?"
"You told me yourself without intending to. Please give me credit for some shrewdness. If you had been a welcome suitor, you would have had no difficulty in raising twice two hundred thousand dollars in Chicago. Then, too, I remember the story you told me at Kalvik, your mental attitude—many things, in fact. Oh, it was very simple."
"Well, what of it? What has all that got to do with my present difficulty?"
"Listen! You want to marry the daughter of the greatest trust-builder in the country, and he doesn't want you for a son-in-law. You undertake an enterprise which seriously threatens his financial interests, and if successful in that, you could defy his opposition in the other matter. Now all goes well until he learns of your plans, then he strikes with his own weapons. A word here and there, a hint to the banks, and your fine castle comes tumbling down about your ears. I thought you had more perception."
The girl's voice was sharp, and she wore that expression of unyouthful weariness that Boyd had noted before. He could not help wondering what bitter experience had taught her disillusion, what strange environment had edged her wits with worldly wisdom.
"We haven't figured Marsh in at all," he said, tentatively.
"He figures, nevertheless, as I intend to show you to-day. To begin with, please notice that unobtrusive man in the gray suit—not now! Don't look around for a minute. You will see him on the opposite side of the street."
Boyd turned, to observe a rat-faced fellow across the way, evidently bound for the Tacoma boat.
"Is he following us?"