"He did?"
"Quite a romance, wasn't it? It is a good newspaper story and I'll play it up. He is going to let me in on that hydraulic proposition of yours, too. Of course I haven't much money, but it sounds great, and—"
"How far along did you get with your negotiations about this hydraulic proposition?" Boyd asked, curiously.
"Just far enough so I'm all on edge for it. I'll make up a little pool among the boys at the office and have the money down here before you leave to-night."
"I am sorry, but Mr. Frobisher and I will have to talk it over first," said Emerson, grimly. "I think we will keep that 'hydraulic proposition' in the family, so to speak."
"Then you won't let me in?"
"Not just at present."
"I'm sorry! I should like to take a chance with somebody who is really successful at mining. When a fellow drones along on a salary month after month it makes him envious to see you Klondikers hit town with satchels full of coin. Perhaps you will give me a chance later on?"
"Perhaps," acceded Boyd; but when the young man had gone he strode quickly over to Fraser, who was lolling back comfortably, smoking a ridiculously long cigar with an elaborate gold band.
"Look here, Mr. 'Frobisher,'" he said, in a low tone, "what do you mean by mixing me up in your petty-larceny frauds?"