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The locomotive whistle was droning again, and a dodging procession of red-eyed switch-lights flicked past the windows. Kent stood up and flung away the stump of his cigar. "The capital," he announced. "I'll go back with you and help out with the shawl-strap things." And in the vestibule he added: "I spoke of Loring because he will be with us in anything we have to do in Mrs. Brentwood's behalf.
Brentwood's benefit shall be promptly forthcoming." "By Jove! that's decent," said Ormsby, heartily. "You are a friend worth having, Mr. Kent. But which 'inside' do you mean the railroad or the political?" "Oh, the railroad, of course. And while I think of it, my office will be in the Quintard Building; and you I suppose you will put up at the Wellington?" "For the present, we all shall.
"Have you talked it over with Mr. Ormsby?" Mrs. Brentwood's reply was openly contemptuous. "Brookes Ormsby doesn't know anything about dollars. You have to express it in millions before he can grasp it. He says for me not to sell at any price." Kent shook his head. "I shouldn't put it quite so strongly. At the same time, I am not the person to advise you."
But when I remembered how he was whispering with the stranger in the middle of the night, I came to the conclusion that serious mischief was brewing, and pushed on through the fog, which still continued as dense as ever, and, guided by some directions from the old hut-keeper, I got to Captain Brentwood's about ten o'clock, and told him and the Major the night's adventures.
If you had just heard how she went on, with her nasty little chin in the air and her nasty phrases and insinuations, and her patronage! And then Miss Brentwood's gentle, refined way of answering her! But never mind, I won't go into that! It might take me all night, and I've got to go back to my patient. But you are not to blame yourself one particle.
"His first trouble," I thought, "his first trial. How will our boy behave now?" Let me mention again, that the distance from the Mayfords' to Captain Brentwood's, following the windings of the river on its right bank, was nearly twenty miles.
The belated train was whistling for the lower yard, and Loring was determined to say all that was in his mind. "Yes; go on. I'm anxious to hear more anxious than I seem to be, perhaps." "Well, she is coming West, after a bit. She, and her sister and the mother. Mrs. Brentwood's asthma is worse, and the wise men have ordered her to the interior. I thought you'd like to know."
"Did he happen to know the name of the stock?" asked Kent, moistening his lips. "He did. Fate flirts with you two in the usual fashion. Mrs. Brentwood's little fortune and by consequence, Elinor's and Penelope's is tied up in the stock of the company whose platform we are occupying at the present moment the Western Pacific."
Brentwood's asthma was prohibitive of late dinings-out, had instructed Ormsby to bring Elinor and Penelope. Kent had been saving the results of his deep-sea divings in the oil-field investigation to spread them out before Miss Van Brock and Ormsby "in committee," but he put a padlock on his lips when he saw the others.
A deep, rock-walled glen it was, open and level, though, in the centre, ran a tangled waving line of evergreen shrubs, marking the course of a pretty bright creek, which, half hidden by luxuriant vegetation, ran beside the faint track leading to one of Captain Brentwood's mountain huts. Along this track we could plainly see the hoof marks of the men we were after.
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