The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 126: what you’re looking at

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116 wrenched a tardy victory from his op- ponent when the situation had seemed hopeless. He might do so yet in this case. That Saville would succeed in obtaining the money Stanbury had small doubt. The latter had great respect for his enemy’s histrionic powers, and considering all the cards which he held, it seemed that Car- michael would be induced to pay over. But Coulson Stanbury’s mind ran on something other than the probable loss of a million dollars. It was a large sum, it was true, but there was a matter which rankled even more than the apparently successful raid on his treasury. It was not altogether a lie that Stan- bury had uttered when he told Saville that he was in love with Ellen Lisle. He was as genuinely in love as a man of his type could be. Had Davenport Lisle and his daughter yielded to Stanbury’s vile suggestions, probably he would have tired of the girl in a few weeks, but the very ob- stacles which confronted him in the fury of the father and the contemptuous scorn of the girl fed his desire and he had even contemplated marriage with Ellen Lisle. Now this treacherous thief Saville had destroyed all Stanbury’s hold on the Lisles, and, as the millionaire more than sus- pected, had his eye on the girl for himself. Stanbury could show them that their benefactor was a mere rascally crook. Of course, in fact, that would be public knowledge very soon, but feminine nature was a contrary thing, and Saville would probably gain rather than lose ground in Ellen Lisle’s estimation, especially when she learned that Stanbury was his latest dupe. But the millionaire did not propose to advertise the fact that he had fallen so easily into Saville’s trap. His friends and certainly his enemies would have the laugh. He—Coulson Stanbury, a man of the world, the smart financier, to allow himself to be tricked by a common green goods man! That would do him no good from a business point of view. No, he would keep the thing dark if THE ARGOSY. possible, until he had settled up with Sa- ville, and if money could do anything, that settlement should not be long delayed. His musings alternating between schemes of revenge and curious conjec- tures as to Saville’s failure or success at San Francisco, Stanbury set to work to make the best of the situation. He dismissed the thought of escape al- most as soon as it presented itself. With time he might construct a raft or secure a passage in conjunction with a floating log, but even should he reach the shore of the lake safely, he would be in a scarcely better position. With no weapon, only a few days’ food—supposing he had been able to convey it across—and in all prob- ability some hundreds of miles of virgin jorest between himself and civilization, his predicament would be worse than ever. Besides he had but a very vague notion of his whereabouts. He had an idea that this must be one of the many lakes west of the Sink of the Humboldt, but he was by no means sure. No, there was nothing to be done but to take matters philosophically and await the rescue which Saville had promised. Meanwhile there was the tent to pitch and supper to get. This he cooked in due course with the expert hand of an old cam- paigner. ‘Then, after his meal, he lit his pipe and sat there absorbed in thought. Soon a mist began to rise, and building up his fire so that it would burn well into the night, Stanbury knocked out his pipe and retired into his tent. Within ten min- utes he was rolled in his blanket and sleeping soundly. Stanbury woke with the dawn, and it was only after he had called drowsily on Saville twice that he remembered what had happened. Then he gave a grim laugh and went outside. The weary hours dragged on. Fortu- nately for the captive the weather re- mained fine and, the month being Septem- ber, the heat was not excessive. a sharp lookout. thing to do, and there was just one chance in a thousand—in ten thousand it#might COMMICLO® (CG KS He kept | It was about the only . (C@