"That's Mallinsbee's—word?"
"Absolutely."
The man's hot face became suddenly hotter, and his eyes shone.
"I'll get right back and we'll hold a meetin' to-night. Say, we've got to fool those who ain't got interests here—they ain't more than fifty per cent.—and then we'll send prices sky-high. You can bet on it, Mr. Van Henslaer, sir. All it's up to you to do is to turn him down and drive him our way. We'll drive him back to you. It's elegant."
Gordon gave a final promise as they shook hands when Peter had mounted his buggy. Then the hotel proprietor drove off in high glee.
Gordon went back to his office without any sensation of satisfaction. He had committed Mallinsbee to a definite policy that might easily fall foul of that individual's ideas. But he had committed him, and meant to carry the thing through against all opposition.
The cue had been too obvious for him to neglect. It was Slosson who had made a false move. He was temporizing, instead of acting on a fighting policy, and it was pretty obvious to him that his temporizing was due to his growing regard for Hazel. The man was mad to ask for options. He was a fool—a perfect idiot. No, the opportunity had been too good to miss. If Slosson had shown weakness, he did not intend to do so. Then, as he sat down and further probed the situation, a real genuine sensation of satisfaction did occur. There would no longer be any necessity for Hazel to attempt to play the man.
All in a moment he saw the whole thing, and a wild delight and excitement surged through him. He was in the heart of a youngster's paradise once more. The sun streaming in through the window was one great blaze of heavenly light. The world was fair and joyous, and, for himself, he was living in a palace of delight.
It was in such mood that he heard the approach of David Slosson.
The agent entered the office with all the arrogance of a detestable victor. His first words set Gordon's spine bristling, although his welcoming smile was amiability itself.