British Columbian ventures favorably yonder. If it goes through, I'd
have to take most of the vendor's payment in shares, which I'm quite
ready to do. That's a rough sketch of the scheme, sir, but in the
meanwhile it's only tentative."

Stirling perused the paper handed him with close attention; and before
he answered he lighted another cigar.

"Wannop's straight, but he and his friends are little men," he said at
length. "You'd have the Hogarth Combine right on to you in London. One
or two of their subsidiary concerns are registered there. Now, I don't
know whether they really want your mine, but supposing they do, and
you won't sell out to them, I guess you have some idea of what their
game would be?"

"I'm afraid I haven't, sir."

"Well," said Stirling, "you'll be fortunate if you get half your
authorized capital applied for, and it would be quite an easy thing
for the Hogarth people to send somebody on to the market to sell your
stock down. That would freeze off any other investors from coming in,
and scare those who had applied for stock into selling. You can't put
up a crushing and reducing plant without a pile of money, and dams and
flumes for water-power would cost 'most as much; but you'd have to
have them, for you could never pack your ore out to a smelter through
the kind of country you have described to me. Now, unless you could
get money enough to start clear with, the concern is bound to cave in.
Then somebody acting for the Combine would quietly buy it up."

He broke off for a moment and looked hard at Weston.

"Suppose those people let you feel their hand and then make you a
rather higher offer? What are you going to do?"

"Disregard it," said Weston, quietly.

Stirling nodded in a manner which suggested that this was what he had
expected.

"Well," he said, "I guess that's the course most likely to appeal to a
man constituted as you seem to be. But the question is, are you tough
enough to see it through? It's one that may cost you a good deal."

"I don't know," said Weston. "I can only find out by trying."

It appeared from his companion's manner that the answer pleased him.

"Now," he said, "are you open to take advice or help from me?"

Weston met his gaze, which was now unpleasantly steady.

"Advice, sir," he answered. "I'm afraid I couldn't take help."

"From me?" said Stirling, dryly, with an emphasis on the last word
which brought the blood to Weston's cheek. "Well, you can come