“Dead as a door nail. Your cousin has substituted H. B. I7. They will pass it to-morrow or the next day.”
A swift sickness ran through Farnum. “James gone back on us?”
“That's what. He's double-crossed us.” Rawson snapped the words out bitterly.
“Why—why—surely not James.” Jeff's mind groped for some possible
explanation.
“Says our bill was lost anyhow and it was a question of getting through Garman's bill or none.”
“But Garman's bill was framed by Ned Merrill. It doesn't give us anything.”
Rawson nodded grimly. “That's the idea. We're to get nothing, but it's to be wrapped up like a Christmas present so as to fool us.”
“And isn't there any chance at all for our bill?”
“Just this one chance.” Rawson leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, driving his hand down on the deck railing. “That you've got a charge of dynamite up your sleeve to throw into their camp. If you can't stampede them we're down and out.”