“Well, you won’t say it through the columns of the Gold Bluff Prospector. It is my property; I have the bill of sale in my pocket.”
“Yes,” said Vance, “yours is the weapon of a coward; the unholy use of the power of money, but your plan of securing possession of the Prospector has no terrors for me. The copy of the Prospector that you hold in your hand contains the last editorial I ever expect to write for the paper. It may please you to know that my last dollar is gone; I am penniless, and without interference from you the Prospector has been issued for the last time under my management. I have been typo, managing editor, devil, form setter, city editor, publisher and everything else, trying hard to make an honest living. I am now through. You and your host of satellites will oblige me by leaving the premises. Come to-morrow morning and take possession. You’ll not find me in the way.”
Boast turned, and facing his mob of backers said, with the forced laugh of a whipped man:
“I thought I would squelch him, boys; he had to cave in, you bet.” His voice was shrill and squeaky, and his braggadocio air, as he led his admirers away, hid but poorly his nervousness and agitation.
Vance and Louise were alone. Louise had stood by during the interview, startled and alarmed. She marvelled at Vance’s strength; at his grandeur; at his nobleness; and when she heard him say that now he was penniless, she remembered the sacrifices he had made to help her father. He turned toward her and their eyes met. It came to her like an inspiration, that her respect and admiration for him in times past had been but a prelude to the pulsing love she now felt for him. She reached out both her hands toward him; he took them, and a moment later she was sobbing on his breast. No word had been spoken, but volumes had been interchanged in that one look.
The doorway was darkened. They quickly looked up, Louise through her tears, and Vance with a beaming countenance. Colonel Bonifield was surveying the situation with a look of genuine surprise on his face.
“Yo’ almost pa’lyze me, suh,” said the Colonel, “indeed yo’ do. Why, Mr. Gilder, I sent my little girl oveh here to tell yo’ that I had a matteh of vehy great impo’tance to talk oveh with yo’, but she was gone so long, suh, that I became impatient and came oveh myself.”
“Oh, papa,” said Louise, “Mr. Gilder and Arthur have had a terrible quarrel!”
“A quarrel, suh; why, how is that?”
“I am always ready to talk with you, Colonel,” said Vance, in a confused way, and unconsciously retaining one of Louise’s hands.