Ovington had controlled himself well; and he still controlled himself, but there was a dangerous light in his eyes. “I am sorry,” he said, “that you can give me no better answer, Mr. Griffin. We hoped to have, and we set some value on your support. But there are, of course—other ways.”
“You may take your railroad any way you like, so long as you don’t bring it over Garth.”
“I don’t mean that. If the railroad is made at all it must pass over Garth—the property stretches across the valley. But the Bill, when presented, will contain the same powers which are given in the later Canal Acts—a single proprietor cannot be allowed to stand in the way of the public interests, Mr. Griffin.”
“You mean—by G—d, sir,” the Squire broke out, “you mean that you will take my land whether I will or no?”
“I am not using any threat.”
“But you do use a threat!” roared the Squire, towering tall and gaunt above his opponent. “You do use a threat! You come here——”
“I came here—” the other answered—he was quietly drawing on his gloves—“to put an excellent business investment before you, Mr. Griffin. As you do not think it worth while to entertain it, I can only regret that I have wasted your time and my own.”
“Pish!” said the Squire.
“Very good. Then with your permission I will seek my horse.”
The old man turned to the window and opened it. “Thomas,” he shouted violently. “Mr. Ovington’s horse.”