Vance was seated beside Steve Gibbons on the top of the stage coach, as they whirled along in meditative silence. The evening before Louise had sung for him. It was music fit for the gods—so rich, so deep, so plaintively low, so fascinating. He could see her even now, standing on the wide old porch as she bade him good-bye. The mild October breeze that stirred the ringlets of her golden hair seemed laden with worshipers of hope for Vance, the lover, and he interpreted her every word and smile as a token reciprocal of his own deep love.
Presently Vance was brought back from his day dreams to the present by Steve Gibbons remarking:
“Things ain’t so powerful brisk down at Waterville jes’ now.”
“Why, how is that?’ asked Vance.
“Oh, I dunno,” replied Gibbons, as he waked up his leaders with a spirited crack of his whip, “can’t say jes’ what is the matter. But I can tell ye one thing, pardner,” he went on, “I’m mighty glad I’m not in the real estate business. In my opinion, them real estate agents down thar will be jumpin’ sideways for a sandwich before the winter’s over.”
Vance was noticeably depressed by Gibbons’ remarks. He was going to Waterville for the express purpose of disposing of his New York friends’ property, in which they had invested on his recommendation. He cared very little about his own investment. He was willing to wait, or even to lose it all, if he could only prevent them from sustaining loss on their purchase.
It was late that night when they reached Waterville. Vance was delighted to find that Homer Winthrop was registered at the hotel. They met the following morning at the breakfast table. The conduct of the usually polite and entertaining Winthrop was changed to a sternness for which Vance was at a loss to account. As they arose from the table, Vance went out with Winthrop and asked him how he was progressing in the lot selling business.
“How am I progressing?” repeated Winthrop, as he turned and looked coldly at Vance. “I am through. I have left Butte City for good.”
“Why, how is that?” asked Vance in some surprise. Winthrop was silent for a moment, and then replied: “It is rather strange, Mr. Gilder, for you to ask such a question after writing the article you did for that New York paper. The Inter Mountain Blade and the Butte City Miner both copied the letter. It is hardly necessary for me to observe,” he went on, “that it rendered it impossible for me to sell another lot in Butte City. Those who had purchased became so infuriated that I deemed it best for personal safety to leave the town.”
Saying this, Winthrop turned abruptly and left Vance, who was for a moment unable to make a reply. Homer Winthrop’s words both astonished and chilled him.