"She isn't that kind," Emerson hotly denied.
"Now don't be a boy until your beard trips you up. That girl is about to break into old Hilliard's vault, and while she's in there, with the gas lighted and a suit case to lug off the bank-notes, why not tell her to toss in a few bundles for us?"
"If I can't get along without taking money from a woman, I'll throw up the whole deal."
The curious look which Boyd had noted once before came into Clyde's eyes, and this time, to judge by the young fellow's manner, he might have translated it into words but for the entrance at that moment of Cherry herself, accompanied by "Fingerless" Fraser.
"What luck in Vancouver?" she inquired,
"None whatever. The banks won't listen to me and I can't interest any private parties."
"See here," volunteered Fraser, "why don't you let me sell some of your stock? I'm there with the big talk."
Emerson turned on him suddenly. "You have demonstrated that. If you had kept your mouth shut we'd have been at sea by now."
The fellow's face paled slightly as he replied: "I told you once that I didn't tip your mit."
"Don't keep that up!" cried Boyd, his much-tried temper ready to give way. "I can put up with anything but a lie."