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Updated: May 27, 2025
"What are you going to do?" Dowsett demanded. "The police. It's downright robbery. I won't stand it. I tell you I won't stand it." Dowsett smiled grimly, but at the same time bore the slender financier back and down into his chair. "We'll talk it over," he said; and in Leon Guggenhammer he found an anxious ally. And nothing ever came of it. The thing remained a secret with the three men.
You have no idea of the trouble they cause men like us sometimes, by their gambling tactics, upsetting the soundest plans, even overturning the stablest institutions." Dowsett and young Guggenhammer went away in one motor-car, and Letton by himself in another.
But he did not drink. By nine o'clock his telephone began to ring and the reports to come in. Nathaniel Letton was taking the train at Tarrytown. John Dowsett was coming down by the subway. Leon Guggenhammer had not stirred out yet, though he was assuredly within.
I'll have the clerks work through the noon hour, so that you will have ample time to catch your train." Dowsett and Guggenhammer manifested a relief that was almost obvious. The situation was clearing. It was disconcerting, under the circumstances, to be pent in the same room with this heavy-muscled, Indian-like man whom they had robbed.
And in this fashion, with a map of the city spread out before him, Daylight followed the movements of his three men as they drew together. Nathaniel Letton was at his offices in the Mutual-Solander Building. Next arrived Guggenhammer. Dowsett was still in his own offices.
How much Ward Valley was this Klondike gambler going to buy? How much could he buy? What was the Ward Valley crowd doing all this time? Daylight appreciated the interviews with them that appeared interviews delightfully placid and non-committal. Leon Guggenhammer even hazarded the opinion that this Northland Croesus might possibly be making a mistake.
Nathaniel Letton did not look appealingly at his two friends, but in the brief pause they felt that appeal pass out from him. Dowsett, of sterner mould than the others, began to divine that the Klondiker was playing. But the other two were still older the blandishment of his child-like innocence. "It is extremely er difficult," Leon Guggenhammer began. "You see, Ward Valley has fluctuated so, er "
Most likely, if he had, it would have been from Freda or some other woman. There was Dartworthy, the college man who had staked the rich fraction on Bonanza above Discovery. Everybody knew that old Doolittle's daughter, Bertha, was madly in love with him. Yet, when he contracted the disease, of all women, it had been with the wife of Colonel Walthstone, the great Guggenhammer mining expert.
Whatever the proposition was, he was going into it with his eyes open. And they filled his eyes with the practical vision of what they had in mind. "They will never dream you are with us," Guggenhammer interjected, as the outlining of the matter drew to a close, his handsome Jewish eyes flashing enthusiastically. "They'll think you are raiding on your own in proper buccaneer style."
Of course, they had been unloading on him all the time, and now they were buying Ward Valley back for a song ere the market righted itself. Most probably, out of his share of the swag, Nathaniel Letton would erect a couple of new buildings for that university of his. Leon Guggenhammer would buy new engines for that yacht, or a whole fleet of yachts.
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