“Oh, I dunno,” replied Gibbons, as he waked up his leaders with a spirited crack of his whip, “can’t say jes’ what is the matter. But I can tell ye one thing, pardner,” he went on, “I’m mighty glad I’m not in the real estate business. In my opinion, them real estate agents down thar will be jumpin’ sideways for a sandwich before the winter’s over.” Vance was noticeably depressed by Gibbons’ remarks. He was going to Waterville for the express purpose of disposing of his New York friends’ property, in which they had invested on his recommendation. He cared very little about his own investment. He was willing to wait, or even to lose it all, if he could only prevent them from sustaining loss on their purchase. It was late that night when they reached Waterville. Vance was delighted to find that Homer Winthrop was registered at the hotel. They met the following morning at the breakfast table. The conduct of the usually polite and entertaining Winthrop was changed to a sternness for which Vance was at a loss to account. As they arose from the table, Vance went out with Winthrop and asked him how he was progressing in the lot selling business. “How am I progressing?” repeated Winthrop, as he [150] turned and looked coldly at Vance. “I am through. I have left Butte City for good.” “Why, how is that?” asked Vance in some surprise. Winthrop was silent for a moment, and then replied: “It is rather strange, Mr. Gilder, for you to ask such a question after writing the article you did for that New York paper. The Inter Mountain Blade and the Butte City Miner both copied the letter. It is hardly necessary for me to observe,” he went on, “that it rendered it impossible for me to sell another lot in Butte City. Those who had purchased became so infuriated that I deemed it best for personal safety to leave the town.” Saying this, Winthrop turned abruptly and left Vance, who was for a moment unable to make a reply. Homer Winthrop’s words both astonished and chilled him. A little later he visited the Town Company’s office, where he found Marcus Donald, the resident director, and Homer Winthrop in deep consultation. Donald was a man of commanding presence. His associates often remarked that Marcus Donald’s face was worth $10,000 in an important trade of any kind. He was dignified and commanding in appearance, and when one talked with him, the most skeptical fell into the habit of believing every word that fell from his lips. Vance discovered that he was not wanted, but he determined to vindicate himself, and said: “Gentlemen, pardon me for interrupting, but I must ask your indulgence for a few moments. I wish you would read this article. I am humiliated enough without any further complications or misunderstandings.” He handed [151] Marcus Donald a copy of the Banner. Donald adjusted his gold-rimmed spectacles and read aloud the entire article, “Two Western Towns.” When he had concluded, Vance turned toward Winthrop. “Is that the letter you referred to?”