"Yes," Leonard answered curtly, and Andrew knew that there could be no compromise. It was now a trial of strength; one of them must be driven off the field.
"Knowing it to be misleading?" he said. "Very well; I can't prevent its issue. I suppose you have heard that your confederate has been beaten in what must be his last attempt to thwart me?"
"I heard that an attempt had been made to jump the Company's claims."
"My claims," said Andrew.
"The Company's, I think. You were our representative when you found them."
"We'll let that go; it's not a point that's likely to be raised."
As the question of the ownership of the claims seemed to be of importance, Leonard looked puzzled.
"Oh, well," he said, "I've told you that, if needful, Mappin must be sacrificed."
"That is not what you told him. You must have meant to trick one of us or play false to both."
"I can't tolerate such words!"
Leonard lost the indulgent air he had so far assumed, and Andrew, leaning forward with elbows on the table, fixed his eyes on him.
"We'll drop all disguises. You have plotted against me ever since I went to Canada, and I'm showing you more consideration than you deserve in speaking of these things in private instead of before the family. It is for Florence's sake I'm doing so." He raised his hand. "Let me finish! You would have ruined the Rain Bluff Company sooner than allow me to reorganize it; you conspired with Mappin to starve me and my friends to death."
Leonard sat back in his chair with a harsh laugh.
"That is ridiculous! If we are to talk the matter out, try to be calm. I'll admit that I would have been glad to prevent your wasting the Company's time and money on an absurd adventure, and gave Mappin a hint to that effect. If he went farther, for his own ends, I'm not responsible."
"I'd like to believe that you speak the truth. Apart from this, you have persuaded the directors that my suggestions are not to be considered seriously and what's worse, you have from the beginning prejudiced my relatives against me. It's your doing that they think me a fool."
A smile crept into Leonard's eyes.
"It looks as if you mean to force a quarrel," he said.
"In a sense, you're right. We can't go on as we have been doing."
"Very well. What do you suggest?"
"In the first place, I ask for your resignation from theRain Bluff Board. That shouldn't be difficult; you have been selling your shares."
Leonard considered for a minute.
"I might agree. Three of the directors must retire, and the Company isn't likely to prosper if you get control."
"I understand your reasons. The concern has got into trouble, for which I'm to be held responsible, and you clear out because you find it impossible to curb my recklessness. You expect to save your credit in that way."
"Have it so, if you like," said Leonard coolly.
His answer convinced Andrew that Leonard did not know of the richness of the lode. Andrew thought he had honestly disbelieved in it, and Mappin, who had informed him of its discovery, which had not yet been widely mentioned in the Canadian papers, might not have made him understand its importance. Indeed, it was possible that Mappin meant to throw over his English confederate.
"I have another demand to make. I want your consent to a dissolution of your partnership in Allinson's."
Leonard started and his face grew hard; though it seemed impossible that Andrew, whom he had genuinely looked down on, should urge the matter.
"This is too much!" he exclaimed. "Have you lost your senses?"
"I think not. You have betrayed the trust my father had in you; you have started Allinson's on a downward course. That you have, with the exception of the Rain Bluff speculation, so far made money for the firm does not count, because you can't continue doing so. There's a code of business morality; they are not fools in the city, and your methods would be found out.Then the reputation we trade upon would be gone. But enough of this. Put your price on your position and I'll pay it if possible."
Leonard clenched his hands.
"No!" he answered. "I hold my place! You cannot get rid of me!"
"Is that your last word?"
"Yes! I've tried to be forbearing, but you push me too hard. It has come to an open fight, which may as well begin at the shareholders' meeting. I shall not resign from the Board."
"It was bound to come," said Andrew. "We know how we stand."
Leonard rose.
"Florence and I leave to-morrow! There is no train to-night."
"That must be as you wish," responded Andrew, as he went out.
Half an hour later Florence found him on the terrace. Her face was flushed and her eyes were angry.
"Andrew," she cried, "do you mean to persist in this madness? Shall I try to make peace with Leonard before it is too late?"
"I'm sorry it's too late already. I can't think he sent you."
"No; I came because I felt I must. Can't you see that you are bent on ruining yourself and bringing discredit on the firm?"
"I think not; but it's a point on which we can't agree. I can't blame you for taking Leonard's side."
"Oh," she cried, "try to be sensible! Think how Leonard has developed the business and earned the money that you have spent. Try to remember all you owe to him."
A queer smile crept into Andrew's eyes. He knew what he owed to Leonard, but Florence must not guess. She should keep her faith in her husband, if she could.
"At the worst, he would leave the firm with a very much larger capital than when he joined it, and there are, no doubt, other firms which would welcome him."
Florence turned upon him with a mocking laugh.
"But Leonard is not going to leave the firm! Tell me, for one thing, why you wish him to?"
It was far from Andrew's intention that she should ever learn.
"Well," he said slowly, "our views are so different on almost every point that it's impossible we should get on. I'm very sorry, Florence, but you can't mend the matter. The split was inevitable."
"And you venture to set your immature judgment against Leonard's?"
"I'm forced to. Don't say any more, Florence. I suppose the thing must trouble you. Forgive me, if you can."
"I'll try, when you have found out your folly," she said, and left him.
It was with a strange sense of detachment that Andrew attended the first meeting of the shareholders in the Rain Bluff mine. He had thought of the event with great anxiety, made numerous plans and abandoned them, and now he had come, in a sense, unprepared, determined to submit two general propositions and let the shareholders decide for themselves. Ignorant of the usual mode of procedure at such meetings, he had consulted nobody better informed, and realized that he might be ruled out of order or shouted down; but he was sensible of a coolness that somewhat surprised him.
The room hired for the occasion was large and handsome, with a floor of inlaid hardwood, frescoed walls and lofty roof. It had something of the look of a chapel. At one end a group of well-groomed frock-coated directors were seated at a fine oak table, with the Company's secretary behind an array of books and papers. All that the eye rested on suggested stable prosperity, for Leonard knew the effect that imposing surroundings had on the small provincial investor. It would be difficult for inexperienced and unorganized malcontents to disregard the air of severe formality which he meant to cast over the proceedings.
Andrew missed nothing as he entered. To face a crisis had a steadying effect on him, and his manner was very tranquil as he walked up the long room.
Carefully scanning the assembled shareholders, he surmised from their dress and appearance that a number of them were people of small means from country towns. There were a few women, who looked nervous, as if they felt themselves out of place. He was surprised to see Gertrude and Mrs. Fenwood; and then as his glance roved farther he caught sight of Wannop, who gave him an encouraging grin. Robert Allinson was nearby, looking unusually grave; but Murray caught Andrew's eye and smiled. On the whole, he was glad that he had made no attempt to win over his relatives since his return: it was better that they should judge and vote like the rest of the shareholders. Then as he took his place he looked at his fellow-directors, whom he had not seen since his futile interviews. They wore an air of staid formality, and he suspected that before the meeting was finished they would regard him as a traitor to his class; but that did not matter. He had given them their opportunity and they would not seize it. Leonard, dressed with fastidious taste, looked, as usual, suave and well-bred, but the quick glance he gave Andrew seemed to hint at anxiety.
He made a short speech, calculated to reassure, but containing very little definite information. His audience listened in an apathetic manner, and it struck Andrew that a curious, matter-of-fact dullness characterized the proceedings. Leonard stated that the business of the meeting was to adopt the report and elect new members of the Board in place of those who retired, though they were, he added, eligible for re-election. Then there was a discordant note, for a short man in badly cut clothes, with spectacles and upstanding red hair, rose in the body of the hall.
"I take it that our chairman has made an error," hesaid. "Our business is to consider the report; not necessarily to adopt it."
"That is correct," said Leonard, smiling. "We invite your best consideration. I will now ask the secretary to read the document."
The secretary did so in a monotonous voice, as if it were a matter which must be got through with out of respect to custom, and Andrew felt that it would be a bold shareholder who ventured to disturb the tranquillity of the meeting. Moreover, he recognized the cleverness of the report. It said a good deal that was not to the point and avoided every loophole for adverse criticism. There was only one weak spot—no dividend was declared, though it was hinted that a satisfactory profit might be anticipated when the Company's property had been further developed.
Somebody proposed that it be adopted, a seconder appeared; and then, while Andrew felt that his time to speak had come, the short man with the red hair got up again.
"I move as an amendment that the report be held over until we are supplied with more details," he said. "What I want to know is—why there is no dividend, and when we may expect one?"
One or two of the directors looked supercilious, the others amused, and Leonard smiled indulgently. He was used to dealing with objectors.
"The question," he explained, "is complicated, but I think we have answered it already. I may add that it is unreasonable to expect a dividend on the first year's operations. Preliminary expenses are large, and a mine is not like a factory. The ground must, so to speak, be cleared before you can get to work. Headings mustbe driven and timbered, pumps and machines of various kinds have to be put up."
"Were you ever in a mine?" the red-haired man interrupted amid some laughter.
"I hardly think that is to the point," Leonard answered lightly. "Though I must admit that I have not been down a shaft, I have a knowledge of the commercial side of the subject, which is all that concerns me."
"So I thought!" exclaimed the other. "You can't know much about your work unless you have put up pitprops and used the pick. Now the chairman of a mining company ought——"
He was interrupted by cries of "Sit down!" and some ironical encouragement, and Leonard frowned. It might be dangerous to allow the meeting to get out of hand, and this troublesome fellow was giving Andrew, of whom he was half afraid, his opportunity.
"May I inquire whether the gentleman is a practical miner himself?" one of the directors interposed.
"I was, when I was young. Now I keep a shop and deal with pitmen. But I came here expecting to be told about a dividend. I put three hundred pounds into the Company, because lawyer Jesmond said one could rely on anything that was started by Allinson's. The money wasn't easily saved, but there was no opening in my business—what with the co-operatives cutting into a small man's trade——"
"That's enough!" said somebody; and there was a shout of "Don't waste our time!" But the shopkeeper sturdily stood his ground.
"I'm not here for myself alone," he resumed. "I came up, by excursion, to speak for other people in our town. Jesmond did their business, and he said——"
There was loud interruption. The meeting was getting unruly, but Wannop's voice broke through the uproar:
"Go on, man!"
"I mean to," replied the speaker calmly. "What's more, I have signed proxies in my pocket to be filled up as I think fit."
"It's doubtful how far that's in order," the secretary objected.
"Let him fill them up by all means!" exclaimed a stockjobber ironically. "If all his friends gave him proxies, they wouldn't count for much! There are individual holders present whose votes——"
He broke off at a touch from a neighbor, and Andrew cast a keen glance at the quieter portion of the audience. It was composed of city men who seemed inclined to support the directors. They were, perhaps, not satisfied with the report, for several had been whispering together; but Andrew thought they would prefer to avoid a disturbance and disclosures that might injure the Company. If the meeting could be got through safely, they could afterward sell out at once and cut their loss. Andrew's sympathies, however, were strongly with such investors as the determined shopkeeper. He could imagine the patient drudgery and careful frugality which had enabled them to buy their shares.
"I must ask the gentleman to find a seconder for his motion," Leonard broke in.
There was a pause and the shopkeeper looked eagerly round the hall, where he seemed to have no friends. Then Andrew got up and quietly faced the assembly.
"I second the amendment," he said.
A murmur of astonishment greeted the speech.
"A director!" exclaimed somebody, and a whisperran through the hall. "Mr. Allinson—the company's agent in Canada!"
Deep silence followed, and Andrew saw that every eye was fixed on him. He was acting against all precedent—opposing his colleagues on the Board, who were, in a manner, entitled to his support.
"I suppose I'm taking an unusual line in offering the gentleman who has been speaking information which the chairman has refused him," he said. "He asked when he might expect a dividend. The answer is—never, unless a radical change is made in the Company's policy."
The plain words made a sensation, and after an impressive pause an uproar began.
"What about the prospectus with your name on it?"
"What changes would you make?"
"Keep quiet and let him speak!"
"No, it's a case of collusion; there's some trick in it!"
The meeting raged confusedly until Leonard got up. He looked shaken by the storm of indignation.
"Order, gentlemen! There is a motion before you."
"The amendment first!" somebody shouted.
"The amendment," said Leonard. "A show of hands will serve. 'That the report be held over, pending the furnishing of further details.'"
The audience appeared to be unanimous as the hands went up, and Leonard sought to turn the matter to his advantage.
"Carried," he said. "We will now adjourn the meeting until the information which is asked for can be supplied."
"That," Andrew stated firmly, "is not needful. I can give now an accurate outline of the Company's position."
The secretary protested that this was informal and one of the directors requested Leonard to rule it out of order; but the meeting had got beyond the chairman's control. There were poor men present who thought they had lost their all, as well as rich men who believed they had been deceived, and Leonard's words were greeted with angry clamor.
Murray jumped to his feet.
"I suggest that we hear Mr. Allinson. We will learn the truth from him!" he said.
"Let him speak!" shouted some one.
Andrew, standing very still and intent of face, raised his hand and the turmoil ceased.
"I ask your attention. First, I must show you the worst of things, as I learned it on the spot in Canada. The mine is threatened with inundation, which can be prevented only by the use of powerful pumping machinery; the rock is unusually broken up and faulty, which necessitates expensive timbering and impedes the work. These difficulties, however, need not be enlarged upon, because, if the quality of the ore justified it, they could be overcome. Instead, I will tell you roughly how much capital we have expended, the quantity of ore raised, the cost of its extraction, and the value of the yield in refined metal."
He quoted from his notebook, and there was a strange quietness as he proceeded:
"Though the figures might be challenged and slightly modified by experts, the conclusion is inevitable—the ore turned out at the Rain Bluff can pay only a small interest on the cost of labor. The capital spent in acquiring the mine has irretrievably gone."
Then the storm broke. Questions, reproaches andinsulting epithets were hurled at the directors, some of whom tried to smile forbearingly, while others grew red, and Leonard sat grim and silent with his hand clenched. Andrew waited unmoved, and seized on a pause to continue:
"There is every reason to believe that your directors acted, as they thought, in your interests, but they have been misled."
"So have we!" exclaimed a furious investor.
"I'm afraid that's true," Andrew agreed. "It's an important point, but I must ask you to consider the remedies. In the first place, I will, if necessary, redeem every Rain Bluff share which has been allotted; that is, my brokers will buy up all that are brought to them."
He was heard with astonishment. Some of those present knew a good deal about commercial companies, but that a director of one should make such an offer was unprecedented in their experience. On the surface, it was surprisingly fair, but they suspected a trick.
"At what price?" cried one. "The shares will fall to a few shillings as soon as the truth about the mine is known."
"At par," said Andrew. "You will be returned every penny you have paid in."
It was obvious that the greater part of his audience did not know what to make of this. That he should be in earnest scarcely seemed possible, as his offer seemed the extremity of rashness. No one spoke for a moment or two; and then Robert Allinson rose.
"If any guarantee is needed, I shall be glad to supply it, so far as my means allow. My name is Allinson, a member of the family controlling the firm which promoted this Company. I may perhaps remarkwithout undue pride that it is a point of honor with Allinson's to keep its promises."
"Bravo, Bob!" cried a loud, hearty voice.
"I think," said Robert, in a tone of grave rebuke, "that is not altogether seemly at a public meeting."
Wannop got up with a laugh in which a number of the listeners joined.
"And I am prepared to back my relative, Andrew Allinson, to my last shilling—in which Mrs. Wannop joins me. Between us we hold a good deal of stock."
There was applause mixed with expressions of relief, but some still suspected knavery.
"What is Mr. Allinson's object?" a man blurted out. "What does he expect to gain?"
Andrew flushed, but answered quietly.
"If you close with my offer, I shall undoubtedly benefit; but I do not urge you to do so. Listen to the alternative, and then decide. But I must ask for patience while I tell you the story of another mine."
"As chairman, I must raise a point of order," Leonard objected; but they silenced him with shouts, and he sat down, baffled, knowing that the game was up.
"Go on!" they ordered Andrew, and with a steady voice he began to tell them of Graham's discovery of the lode.
He paused once or twice, but they encouraged him, and as he proceeded nobody felt that the narrative was out of place. A few, indeed, forgot what they had come for and listened with a sense of romance and high adventure, while he told them of the sawmill clerk's steadfast, long-deferred purpose. Here and there women who had been keenly anxious a few minutes earlier watched him with fixed, sympathizing eyes,and Andrew, cheered by the close attention, was conscious of a new power. He could hold these people, and take them with him into the frozen wilds.
They followed the march of the starving men across the Northern snow, saw them blasting icy rocks, and searching with desperate eagerness for the food caches. Then, as he told of the hard-won triumph, when the vein was at last disclosed, a hoarse murmur that had something of a cheer in it filled the room. It was forced upon those who had doubted him that they were listening to an exceptional man, who had borne and done things that needed the staunchest courage, for honor and not for gain.
"Now," he said with an abrupt change of tone, "I have told you how we found the Graham Lode, on which three of the richest claims have been contracted to me. Let me read you the reports of different assayers to whom I submitted specimens." He did so, and added: "The original documents are here; you may examine and pass them round. But I must get on. These claims are mine, though my right to them might be contested by the directors of this Company—the cost of finding and proving them has been borne by myself—but, if you agree to their development and the abandoning of the Rain Bluff, I propose to hand them over as your property."
There was confused applause, in the midst of which Leonard rose.
"In face of the want of confidence you have shown in us and the extraordinary course Mr. Allinson has taken, my colleagues and I feel compelled to resign in a body."
"Let them go! We're well rid of them!" exclaimed the shopkeeper. "You don't join them?" he said anxiously to Andrew.
"I had better do so and offer myself for re-election."
"Then I have much pleasure in proposing Mr. Allinson," said Murray. "I should like to mention that I remained a shareholder in this Company because I preferred his bare word to the strong recommendations of experienced stockjobbing friends."
Several men rose to second him, and when every hand went up amidst a burst of applause, Andrew said with some emotion:
"Thank you for this mark of trust. My first offer stands—anybody anxious to have his shares redeemed at par need only apply to my brokers, whose address is here." He laid an envelope on the table in sight of all.
"We'll go on with the election," resumed the shopkeeper. "With the permission of the meeting, I'll ask Mr. Allinson whom he'd like to have on the Board."
Andrew smiled.
"You're giving up your rights and offering me a very unusual privilege."
"Never mind that," rejoined a stockjobber dryly. "These proceedings have been remarkably unusual from the start. In fact, I imagine we have reached the limit of irregularity for a company meeting. For all that, I support our spokesman's plucky offer."
"Very well," said Andrew. "I would suggest the nomination of three of your previous directors. I believe they would serve you well, and their appointment might act as a judicious check on me."
The gentlemen he named looked irresolute and somewhat embarrassed, but after a word or two with him they expressed their willingness to serve. They were elected without dissent, and then Robert Allinson stood up.
"I have pleasure in proposing Mr. Antony Wannop, who is a large shareholder and Mr. Allinson's brother-in-law. Though I may be prejudiced, I feel that I may say that your interest may safely be trusted to the Allinson family."
"After what we have heard here, that is an opinion with which I heartily agree," a man at the back declared. "None of us can doubt that Allinson is a justly respected name."
Wannop was chosen and several more; and then a man got up.
"If it's necessary to hold an adjourned meeting, it will be attended as a matter of form," he said. "I propose that we instruct Mr. Allinson to push on with the development of the new lode as fast as possible, giving him, with confidence, full authority to do what he thinks fit."
Though the secretary tried to point out that the Board must act as a body, the proposal was carried with acclamation, and as the meeting broke up Andrew leaned forward rather heavily on the big oak table. He was filled with confused emotions and the strain had told on him. When he looked up the room was almost empty and Leonard had gone, but the reappointed directors whom he had suggested remained.
"We have something to regret," said one awkwardly. "It's unfortunate we didn't quite grasp your intentions. We feel that although you took us unprepared, you have treated us with exceptional fairness."
"You may remember that you wouldn't listen when I tried to explain matters," Andrew answered with a twinkle in his eyes. "However, your greater experience should be valuable to me and I've no doubt we'll get on well in future."
After a few cordial words they withdrew, and one of them turned to his companion.
"Though I'm glad we rejoined, I dare say you noticed the personal tone he took. It's clear that he expects us to play second fiddle."
"Well, after all, Allinson has shown that he's capable of leading the tune."
When they had gone Wannop came up to Andrew.
"It's a compliment when I tell you I wasn't a bit surprised," he said. "I'd expected something of the kind from you. The Allinson strain showed up well to-day. You got hold of them and swept them off their feet. Robert, too, proved himself a brick; but he's waiting in the passage and we must try to shunt him. He'll lecture me on my new duties and I want a big, long drink. In fact, half a dozen would be better."
Andrew laughed, and they went out, Wannop talking excitedly.
On the day after the meeting Andrew returned to Ghyllside, and Hilda met him at the station, her eyes sparkling with delight.
"You have won!" she cried. "Antony came down last night and brought us the news. Then Gertrude was over this morning and could talk of nothing else. She said you were splendid, and she got quite vexed when I told her she needn't speak as if she hadn't expected it."
"After all, my position was a strong one," Andrew said. "It doesn't need much skill to win the game when you hold the best cards, and of course Dream Mine was the ace of trumps. Leonard could only throw down his hand when I brought it out."
"Ah! but how did you get the ace? It wasn't by chance; you searched for it, starving, in the snow. But it's a silly metaphor—one isn't allowed to choose one's cards."
"That's true," Andrew replied with a trace of gravity. "It was dealt to me—I think not by accident. Without it, I should not have won the game."
Hilda's manner changed, for she was seldom serious long.
"Well," she said, when he had helped her into the waiting trap, "in the future you'll be called on to play a different one. You can't reasonably expectto find another mine, and you'll have no excuse for tramping through the wilds on snow-shoes, after this. Instead of furs and moccasins, you'll have to wear a silk hat and a Bond street coat, and write things in ledgers instead of firing off dynamite. How will you like it?"
"I don't know. However, I suppose it will have to be done; though I might, perhaps, hire somebody to do the writing for me."
"That would be better," Hilda laughed; "your writing isn't good. But I'm afraid there's a bit of a trial in store for you to-night. All your friends and relatives in the neighborhood are coming to dinner and of course they'll congratulate you and try to look as if you hadn't astonished them. In a way, the situation is distinctly humorous."
"How so?"
Hilda broke into a delighted laugh.
"Can't you see it's the triumph of the foolish and looked-down-upon members of the family? You're a popular hero; Antony's a director; and I'm no longer a person who needn't be considered!"
"But what had you to do with it?" Andrew asked with unflattering frankness.
"I believe I pulled some strings in a humble way. You know you're not really brilliant, Andrew, and I'm afraid you never will be. Perhaps that's why you can't see the large part we women had in your triumph. Of course, you can walk a long distance in snow-shoes and use a pickax; but who led you to think of putting the snow-shoes on?"
"Graham, I believe."
"Try to use some imagination! Go back a little farther. Who made you see that Allinson's had aclaim on you, encouraged you to go to Canada, and prompted you to right that horrid contractor? Can you deny that I, and Ethel, and the girl in Canada, now and then gave you the push you needed? Indeed, I think Miss Frobisher must have been very firm with you."
"You're right," Andrew admitted. "Am I to understand that you propose to continue your supervision and assistance in my duties as the company's manager?"
"You might do worse than consult me sometimes; but you must get a good partner who knows the things you haven't learned, when Leonard leaves." Hilda looked up anxiously. "I suppose he is going to leave?"
"I'm inclined to think so," Andrew replied with some severity. "Still, I haven't seen him since the meeting. It's fortunate I know of a partner who'll make up for my deficiencies—I mean our old accountant, Sharpe."
"But surely he has no money!"
"No. You may have heard that money can be valued too highly, and I believe it's true."
Hilda chatted on general topics during the remainder of the drive, and soon after he got home Andrew went down to receive his guests. Ethel Hillyard was the first to arrive, and she smiled at him as she gave him her hand.
"I have heard the news and am very glad," she said. "But it was only what I had confidently looked forward to."
"Then you had a narrow escape of being badly disappointed. As a matter of fact, I owe a great deal to the staunchness of my friends. I should hardly have pulled through if they hadn't cheered me on."
"That's an easy task. It was you who made the fight."
"I had no choice," said Andrew humorously."There was no retreat. Then I was well supported—by Olcott's friend, upon whom I had no claim, among others."
"Mr. Murray? I don't suppose you know that you won him over by letting him miss a snipe you could have shot. It's a curious reason for giving you his confidence, isn't it? But it has struck me that in many ways you and he are alike."
"After that, I can hardly say that Murray's a good sort," Andrew laughed. "However, we must drop the subject, for here he comes."
He saw that Murray had not noticed him but was advancing straight toward Ethel, and that a faint tinge of color showed in her face. Then after a word of welcome to the man he turned away.
Mrs. Fenwood appeared next and greeted him with more cordiality than he could remember her displaying.
"It's a gratification to see you following in your father's steps at last, though I must say that for a long time we doubted your ever doing so. One recognized that you were influenced by a very proper sense of your responsibility yesterday, and though I thought you were, perhaps, somewhat rash, Robert assures me that you showed signs of business acumen."
"The trouble is that I may not be able to keep on doing so. If Robert's capable of judging on such a matter, I'm afraid you'll have to be patient with me and make allowance for my wasted years."
"Don't be flippant. It isn't becoming," Mrs. Fenwood rebuked him. "You have begun well, and it would be a grief to all of us if you relapsed again."
Mrs. Olcott came to his rescue and soon afterward they went in to dinner. Andrew was quiet during the meal, though he felt content. The strain he had longborne had told on him, and a mild reaction, which brought a sense of fatigue, had set in. He wanted to rest and he had not finished with Leonard yet.
It was a calm, warm evening, and though a few shaded candles threw a soft light over the table, the windows were wide open and the smoky red of the dying sunset gleamed above the shadowy hills. Wannop was in a boisterous mood and Hilda abetted him, apparently to Robert's irritation. Ethel talked to Murray, who seemed gravely interested; Mrs. Olcott was patiently listening to Mrs. Fenwood; Gertrude now and then made furtive attempts to check her husband. Andrew looked on with languid satisfaction, and joined in only when it was necessary. Presently, to his annoyance, Wannop filled his glass and got up.
"You have all heard what happened in London yesterday," he said. "Now that we are here together and those who have joined us are our host's good friends, it seems opportune to wish a long and useful career to the Head of the House."
They rose with lifted glasses, and Andrew felt a thrill as he read the good-will in their faces and knew his victory over his relatives' prejudices was complete. The toast they drank with hearty sincerity was, in a sense, an act of homage—a recognition of his authority. Instead of bearing with and trying to guide him, they would henceforward follow where he led. There was a moment's silence after they sat down, and then he thanked them awkwardly.
As they left the table Mrs. Fenwood remarked to Hilda, who was nearest her.
"It's your brother's rightful place, but he was a long time claiming it; and, after all, I don't see what Leonard can have done that he should be deposed."
"That lies between him and Andrew," Hilda replied. "I think he's the only one who knows and he will never tell."
"I'm afraid I haven't appreciated Andrew as he deserves," Mrs. Fenwood observed with a thoughtful air.
The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly, and the next day Andrew received a telegram, requesting him to call on Leonard at the Company's offices. He declined to do so, feeling that if Leonard wished to make terms, he must come to him; and he smiled when another message stated that his brother-in-law would arrive that evening. It was getting dark when Leonard reached Ghyllside and was shown into the library, where Andrew was waiting for him.
"If you will let your man keep the horse ready I could catch the new night train back from the junction," he said. "That would, perhaps, suit both of us best."
"As you wish," responded Andrew.
Leonard laid some papers on the table.
"You made me an offer a little while ago."
"Which you refused," said Andrew.
"I did; things have changed since then."
"They have. Though I told the secretary to take care that only a very brief notice of the meeting was sent to the papers, news of what took place has, no doubt, leaked out. It was impossible to prevent this from happening, and it must have had some effect in the city. You are afraid it will damage your prestige and weaken your position."
"I'm not prepared to admit that altogether."
"It can't be denied. You no longer command public confidence as you did. You'll find it has been rudely shaken."
"We'll let that subject drop. I must remind you that your father's will and the partnership deed prevent your getting rid of me unless I'm willing to go."
Andrew regarded him with amusement.
"I can't deny it, but I think you will be willing. However, I'd better say that I don't wish to take an undue advantage of the situation. What do you propose?"
"That you buy me out, as you offered. I've sketched out the terms—you'll find them here, with an estimate of my average profits and what my interest in the firm is worth."
He pushed the papers across the table and Andrew carefully studied them before he looked up.
"The fairest way would be to submit these figures to an outside accountant. As soon as he has made up a statement, I'll meet you at Carter & Roding's office and get them to draw up any documents that are needed to annul our partnership. Are you agreeable?"
"Yes; we'll consider the thing decided." Leonard hesitated for a moment. "I don't see," he added, "that you will gain anything by letting Florence and the others know exactly what we differed about."
"I quite agree with you. There are reasons enough to account for the split—the incompatibility of our views on business matters, your objection to taking a subordinate place. Even at the cost of allowing Florence to blame me, the truth must be kept from her."
"Thank you!" said Leonard. "I believe I've said all that's needful, and I may as well be off. It's a long drive to the junction."
Andrew let him go. He had accomplished all that he had laid himself out to do: gained his relatives' confidence, reorganized the mining company, and gotrid of Leonard, who had been a menace to the good name of Allinson's. It had been easier than he expected; the task he had shrunk from had become less formidable when boldly attacked, though he admitted that fortune had favored him. Henceforward he was his own master, the acknowledged head of Allinson's, and that brought with it a deep sense of responsibility. Nevertheless, he no longer felt daunted, for he had gained self-confidence. There were many things of which he was ignorant; but they could be learned. Then he remembered that he must go back to Canada for a while after he had arranged matters with Leonard and had thoroughly informed himself about Allinson's affairs.
It was a month before he could get away, and Wannop drove to the station with him. When he shook hands as the train came in he smiled.
"Bring her back with you. Then the credit of the Allinson family will be in safe hands."
"I'll try," Andrew promised. "I wish I felt more sure of succeeding; but I wasn't thinking of the credit of the family."
"That's the proper line to take," Wannop answered, smiling, as he stood with his hand on the carriage door. "Don't be timid. I'm inclined to think you have done more difficult things."
He made room for Hilda and pulled her back as the train started, and they stood waving their hands until the last carriage vanished into a tunnel.
"Andrew needs some encouraging," he remarked. "When there's anything to be gained for himself, he's too diffident; but perhaps it's a good fault, and by no means common."
"Though he talked a good deal about the mine, weall know why he's going back," said Hilda. "I suppose you are satisfied about this Miss Frobisher?"
"So far as my opinion goes, she's what you might call eminently suitable. If I had any doubt on the matter Andrew's firm conviction would decide me. Though it was a long time before the family realized it, his judgment is to be relied on."
"Yes," agreed Hilda; "in some things, he is really very sensible."
When Andrew reached the Lake of Shadows he found Carnally awaiting him with a satisfactory account of the progress of development work on the lode, and they spent some time talking over it in Andrew's room at the hotel.
"Jake, are you willing to take the post of our general manager in Canada?" Andrew asked.
"Under Hathersage, as boss director?"
"No, under me. Hathersage has left the firm for good."
"Then I'll be proud to take it," said Carnally quietly.
"It's yours. You haven't asked about the stipend."
"That's so," Carnally drawled. "I guess I can leave you to do the square thing." Then his eyes twinkled. "I've kept you here some time talking business, and it strikes me you're anxious to get away. You'll find a skiff ready, and I'd like to wish you good luck."
"Thanks," responded Andrew soberly. "Perhaps you had better wait until I come back."
He hurried to the beach and rowed across the lake with steady, determined strokes, and it happened, but not by accident, that Geraldine was waiting on the lawn. She had seen a trail of engine smoke drift across the pines an hour earlier, and at last a skiff shoot out across the sparkling water. As it drew near the landing shefelt tempted to retreat to the house, but she waited, and the color crept into her face when Andrew took her hand in a masterful grasp.
"I think you know why I have come," he said at once.
"No doubt you had mining matters to arrange," she answered with an attempt at light raillery, though her heart was beating fast.
"I had; they have kept me since the train came in, and I never grudged loss of time so much; but I felt that I required something to steady me before I rowed across. The fact is, I felt extremely anxious."
"Anxious? You knew you would be welcome."
"To be welcomed as I was sent away didn't seem enough." Andrew held fast the hand she had given him. "You were very gracious and I knew what I owed to you, but you kept something back, and it was that I wanted. I told you how I had got on in England, but I'm afraid I haven't learned to stand on my own feet yet. You know how you have helped me so far; won't you do so altogether?"
"If I remember, I said it was criticism you needed," Geraldine answered softly, looking down.
"That or censure; whatever it is, it will be right if it comes from you." Andrew's voice grew tense as he drew her nearer. "I ask for the greatest gift; I need you, Geraldine."
She yielded, looking up at him swiftly with eyes that shone, and then turned her head, which sank until it rested on his shoulder. It was getting dusk; the scent of the pines stole out of the shadows and the call of a loon came ringing to them over the water, as if in blessing.
THE END
JOHN FOX, JR'S.STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS
May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.
THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.