"Good morning, Belding," said the elder Chase. "We were routed out early by that big blast and came up to see what was wrong. All a blunder. The Greaser foreman was drunk yesterday, and his ignorant men made a mistake. Sorry if the blast bothered you." "Chase, I reckon that's the first of your blasts I was ever glad to hear," replied Belding, in a way that made Chase look blank. "So? Well, I'm glad you're glad," he went on, evidently puzzled. "I was a little worried--you've always been so touchy--we never could get together. I hurried over, fearing maybe you might think the blast--you see, Belding--" "I see this, Mr. Ben Chase," interrupted Belding, in curt and ringing voice. "That blast was a mistake, the biggest you ever made in your life." "What do you mean?" demanded Chase. "You'll have to excuse me for a while, unless you're dead set on having it out right now. Mr. Gale and his family are leaving, and my daughter is going with them. I'd rather you'd wait a little." "Nell going away!" exclaimed Radford Chase. He reminded Belding of an overgrown boy in disappointment. "Yes. But--Miss Burton to you, young man--" "Mr. Belding, I certainly would prefer a conference with you right now," interposed the elder Chase, cutting short Belding's strange speech. "There are other matters--important matters to discuss. They've got to be settled. May we step in, sir?" "No, you may not," replied Belding, bluntly. "I'm sure particular who I invite into my house. But I'll go with you." Belding stepped out and closed the door. "Come away from the house so the women won't hear the--the talk." The elder Chase was purple with rage, yet seemed to be controlling it. The younger man looked black, sullen, impatient. He appeared not to have a thought of Belding. He was absolutely blind to the situation, as considered from Belding's point of view. Ben Chase found his voice about the time Belding halted under the trees out of earshot from the house. "Sir, you've insulted me--my son. How dare you? I want you to understand that you're--" "Chop that kind of talk with me, you ------ ------ ------ ------!" interrupted Belding. He had always been profane, and now he certainly did not choose his language. Chase turned livid, gasped, and seemed about to give way to fury. But something about Belding evidently exerted a powerful quieting influence. "If you talk sense I'll listen," went on Belding. Belding was frankly curious. He did not think any argument or inducement offered by Chase could change his mind on past dealings or his purpose of the present. But he believed by listening he might get some light on what had long puzzled him. The masterly effort Chase put forth to conquer his aroused passions gave Belding another idea of the character of this promoter.