"But—but—man." The rancher spluttered for words to express himself. This was the money-lender's opportunity, and he seized it.
"You see, John, in retiring from business I am not altogether a free agent. My affairs are so mixed up with the affairs of the Calford Trust and Loan Co. The period of one of your mortgages, for instance—the heaviest by the way—has long expired. It has not been renewed. The interest is in arrears. This mortgage was arranged by me jointly with the Calford Trust and Loan Co. When I retire it will have to be settled up. Being my friend I have not troubled you, but doubtless the company will have no sentiment about it. As to the others—they are debts of honor. I am afraid these things will have to be settled, John. You will of course be able to meet them."
"God, man, but I can't," old John exclaimed. "I tell you I can't," he reiterated in a despairing voice.
Lablache shrugged his obese shoulders.
"That is unfortunate."
"But, Lablache," said the rancher, gazing with drunken earnestness into the other's face, "you will not press me?"
"Why no, John, of course not—as far as I am personally concerned. I have known you too long and have too much regard for you and—yours. No, no, John; of course I am a business man, but I am still your friend. Friend—eh, John—your friend."
The rancher looked relieved, and helped himself to more whisky. Lablache joined him and they silently drank. "Poker" John set his empty glass down first.
"Now Lablache, about these lia-liabilities," he said with a hiccup. "What is to be done?"
"Well, John, we are friends of such old standing that I don't like to retire from business and leave you inconvenienced by the process. Perhaps there is a way by which I can help you. I am very wealthy—and wealth is a great power—a very great power even in this wild region. Now, suppose I make a proposition to you."