"Oh, by the way," he said, still in his coldest manner, "I'd like to buy that old mill of yours—or lease it. I don't mind which. How much do you want for it?"
Jim flashed a sharp glance at him.
"My old mill?" Then he laughed peculiarly. "What do you want with that?"
The other considered for a moment.
"My mill hasn't sufficient capacity," he said at last. "You see, my contract is urgent. It must be completed before winter shuts down—under an enormous penalty. We are getting a few thousand a day behind on my calculations. Your mill will put me right, with a margin to spare against accidents."
"I see." And the thoughtfulness of Truscott's manner seemed unnecessary. He avoided Dave's eyes. "You're under a penalty, eh? I s'pose the government are a hard crowd to deal with?"
Dave nodded.
"If I fail it means something very like—ruin," he said, almost as though speaking to himself.
Truscott whistled.
"Pretty dangerous, traveling so near the limit," he said.