eturned from the property, we hear. What do you think of
it?"

"We have the certificate of the mining engineer," interrupted Mr.
Eggleston in a bland tone, regaining his seat.

"Yes, I have it here," the treasurer answered, tapping the bundle of
papers. "It is your personal opinion, Mr. Colton, that we want. The
president insists upon this; he has a reason for it."

Colton stepped nearer and looked the treasurer square in the eyes.

"My personal opinion, sir," he answered in clear-cut tones, "is that
the deposit is practically exhausted. I came here to tell you so. The
engineer's report is, I think, too highly colored."

Both father and son started forward in their chairs, their eyes
glaring at Philip. They could hardly believe their senses.

"What!" burst out Mr. Eggleston--"you don't mean to say that----"

"One moment, please," interrupted the treasurer, with an impatient
wave of his hand towards Eggleston: "Do you think, Mr. Colton, that
the issue had better be deferred?"

"I do. Certainly until the mine makes a better showing."

Again Mr. Eggleston tried to interrupt and again he was waved into
silence.

"When did you arrive at this conclusion?"

"This morning. I thought differently yesterday, but I have changed my
mind. So much so that it would be impossible for me to go on with this
loan."

"Shall I take that message to the president?"

"Yes. If I have any cause to change my opinion I'll let him know. But
it is not likely I will--I'm sorry to have given you all this
trouble."

"Thank you," said the trust company's representative, rising from his
chair and extending his hand to Philip. "I might as well tell you that
we have heard similar reports and our president felt sure that you
would give him the facts. He has great confidence in you, Mr. Colton.
If he authorizes me to sign the papers after what you have said to me
I'll be back here in a few moments. Good-day, sir!" and with a grim
smile lighting his face, the treasurer nodded himself out.

Eggleston waited until the trust company's attorney had gathered up
his papers and had closed the door behind him--a mere matter of
routine with him; almost every day a transaction of this kind was
either deferred or culminated--then he swung himself around in his
revolving chair, his cheeks purple with rage, and faced Philip.

"Well, sir! what do you think of the mess you've made of this
morning's business! Do you for one instant suppose that Stockton wi