It was the financial disaster which had overtaken General Holden that had opened Allen Miller’s eyes to the truth that he had been utterly wrong in his attempted methods of managing a headstrong, and as the old guardian had thought at the time a wayward, youth like Roderick Warfield. He had bitterly regretted the harsh words that had dared the offender to play football with the world and, as he now realized, had by their sarcastic bitterness driven the high-mettled young man from his boyhood home. He had never doubted Roderick’s prowess to make a way for himself by his own unaided efforts, and, despite the quarrel, had always felt sure of the lad’s affection. So Roderick one day would come back, to find the latchstring hanging outside the door of his home, the promised place in the bank still awaiting him, and—the pride and dogged determination of the old man would not yield the point—the rich, attractive, and in every way highly eligible bride still available. The only flaw in the program was Gail Holden’s fall from fortune, and to repair this had been the object of the banker’s continuous and strenuous endeavor.
He had grabbed at the chance of lending money on the Mine and Smelter Company bonds standing in the name of W. B. Grady, which bonds he considered were by moral right really the property of General Holden. But he had lent discreetly, postponing any big advance while he held the documents and nosed around for information that might give some valid reason to dispute their ownership. And in course of time he had made one surprising discovery. Obtaining from General Holden all correspondence with Grady, he had found one sentence in which the sponsor for the new amalgamation scheme had guaranteed the withdrawal of all underlying bonds in the old smelter company before the scheme would be put through. Yet this condition had not been complied with, for Allen Miller had, in the course of tracing every old bond, discovered that five were still in existence and had never been surrendered. They belonged to a widow away back in Pennsylvania who had gone to Europe and whose whereabouts at the time Grady apparently had not been able to ascertain. But the persistent old banker had followed the trail and through his agents in France had purchased this particular parcel of bonds at a high figure. They were few in number and insignificant in face value, but to Allen Miller they were priceless, for these underlying bonds put W. B. Grady in his power and could be made the means eventually of compelling restitution to General Holden of the fortune that had been filched from him. Grady would have to make good or face the criminal charge of a fraudulent transaction.
Buell Hampton had been told nothing about this—it was sufficient for Allen Miller’s immediate purpose to have the company control wrested without delay out of Grady’s hands. This would render litigation easier, perhaps avoid it altogether—the better alternative, for the law’s harassing delays and heart-sickening uncertainties are proverbial. So when Buell Hampton had come to Keokuk in the cause of humanity, to fight for the toilers at the smelter and in the big mine, he had been agreeably surprised to find in the old banker such a ready listener to his philanthropic arguments. The alliance had been struck, with the result that Buell Hampton had been able to swing the stockholders’ meeting exactly as he desired.
Up to the very eve of that meeting the Major had kept his counsel and held his hand. The merest hint of the power he possessed might have given time for so astute a knave as Grady to devise some means more or less unscrupulous of repelling the attack. Therefore Buell Hampton had not dropped one word of what he intended to do until he had spoken to Roderick in his home on the night before the stockholders’ meeting. Little did either of them know at that time how vitally and directly Roderick was interested in the outcome of the Major’s fight for the downtrodden poor.
After the eventful meetings of stockholders and directors it had been Buell Hampton’s first duty to send a full report of the proceedings to Allen Miller of Keokuk, whose power of attorney had enabled him to effect the coup deposing Grady and giving a share of the profits to the actual toilers at the furnaces and in the mine. In the course of this report the names of the new directors were set forth. Judge of the old banker’s utter amazement when his eyes fell upon the name of—Roderick Warfield. Surprise quickly yielded to joy and delight. The news was telephoned to Aunt Lois. The old banker could not leave town at the moment—an issue of city bonds required his close attention. But that very night an envoy was dispatched to Wyoming in the person of his bright and trusted young clerk, Whitley Adams.
And the first of the series of surprises for Roderick Warfield, one afternoon a few days after the sleigh ride, was the sight of his old college chum tumbling out of a bob-sled which, in default of coaching facilities, had brought him over from the railroad at Rawlins. Whitley had stopped the sled in the main street along which, in the crisp sunshine that had followed the heavy snowfall, Roderick happened to be strolling.
“Hello, old scout,” cried the new arrival with all the ease of a veteran globe-trotter.
“Where in thunder did you drop from!” exclaimed Roderick, clutching at his hand.
“From Iowa’s sun-kissed cornfields to Wyoming’s snow-capped hills,” laughed Whitley, humming the tune of the hymn he was parodying.
“What has brought you here?”