The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 118: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

108 an air in which deference and embarrass- ment were artistically blended. “Mr. Carmichael?” he began interroga- tively. The president’s keen eye darted over the speaker from head to foot, then up again at the smiling face. “Ves,” he said briefly, and motioned his visitor to a chair where the light from the window fell directly on his features. Saville appreciated the point and made no attempt to avoid full scrutiny. “You have a letter for me from Mr. Coulson Stanbury, my clerk tells me,” ob- served the Scotsman. Saville made a slight grimace. “T have, sir,” he replied, ‘‘and a queer communication you will find it, I am thinking.” And he handed across the missive which the multi-millionaire had written by the light of the campfire. The bank president took it with an im- movable countenance, and taking a slen- der cutter methodically slit the envelope. Saville leaned back and watched with an expression of amused curiosity. Donald Carmichael’s face betrayed no sign as he read, then his glance shot over the top of the sheet at Saville, who laughed quietly. “Well,” said the latter, “rather a tall order, isn’t it?” “Tt certainly is somewhat extraordinary. I take it that you are aware of the con- tents of this letter—er—Mr. Saville?”’ “Perfectly. I was with Mr. Stanbury when he wrote it,” was the ready response. Then the little smile passed from Sa- ville’s face and in its place came an ex- pression of businesslike gravity. “T know it must seem rather queer to you, Mr. Carmichael,” said he earnestly. “T told Stanbury I’d have the biggest job to convince you that everything was O. K.., but he seemed to think I should have no difficulty. “There is my signature,’ said he; ‘what more can you—or he—want, and of course you can explain.’ ” “And can you?” put in the Scotsman dryly. THE ARGOSY. Saville braced himself to score his first trick in the game, but his face betrayed only a slightly troubled diffidence. “ll explain all I can,” said he. “And if it does not satisfy you—well, you-must take the responsibility” — “responsi- beelity,” he pronounced it. Saville drew forward his chair and glanced over his shoulder, as though to make sure that the door was closed. “Vou see, it is like this, Mr. Car- michael,” he said in a low tone. “Mr. Stanbury and I left New York some four weeks ago on a hunting expedition—you can easily verify that, at any rate. He had got a bit sick of cities, and I had had enough of them, too, for a time. We both wanted to get as far away from Wall Street as we could—right away in the wilds. Well, we drifted west until we got into some very wild country, indeed—en- tirely new ground to both of us, and new to most people, I guess—and there we struck a find—a bonanza.” Saville paused; Carmichael glanced at the letter. “Gold?” said he. Saville nodded. “Ves, he mentions it, doesn’t he? Well, it is a bonanza, and I should say a big one, though I am no mining expert. at liberty to tell you where it is, but the peculiarity of it is that any one else may happen along and jump our claim if we are not wary. ‘““After long discussion we decided that he—Stanbury—should remain there, and I should come to you, obtain sufficient funds for machinery and labor right away —in short, make ourselves secure at once.” “Why did not Mr. Stanbury come him- self, and you stay behind?” shot out the question. Saville had expected that, shrugged his shoulders. ‘“‘There you put up a hard one,” said he. “T pressed that very point, but I could not persuade him. ‘You will have to come anyway, said I. ‘Even your signature won’t be good enough under the circum- stances. It is not as though it were a and he GomiGcdooks I am not (C@