They found the way and the blank, which latter Bartrow hastily filled out, indorsed, and handed to Jeffard for signature. It was for five hundred dollars, and the proletary's hand shook when he dipped the pen. "It's too much," he protested; "I can't stand it, Dick. It is like putting a whetted sword into the hands of a madman." That was his first reference to the past and its smirched record, and Bartrow promptly toppled it into the abyss of generalities. "Same old hair-splitter, aren't you? What's the matter with you now?" "You know--better than any one. I am not to be trusted with any such sum of money." "Call it Garvin's, then. I don't know how you feel toward Jim, but I've always found him a man to tie to." A woman would have said that Jeffard turned aside to hide an upflash of emotion, though a clot on the pen was the excuse. But it was the better part of him that made answer. "I owe him my life--twice, Dick. By all the known hypotheses of honor and gratitude and common decency I ought to be true to him now, in this his day of helplessness. But when one has eaten and drunk and slept with infamy"-- The cashier's step was on the stair, and Bartrow cut in swiftly. "Jeffard, you make me weary!--and, incidentally, you're killing precious time. Can't you see that trust isn't a matter of much or little? If you can't, why just name the amount for which you'd be tempted to drop Garvin, and we'll cut under it so as to be on the safe side." "But I sha'n't need a fifth of this," Jeffard objected, wavering. "You are liable to need more. You must remember that ten minutes hence you'll be trying to subsidize a railroad company. Sign that note and quit quibbling about it." The thing was done, but when the money had changed hands, Jeffard quibbled again. "If the worst comes, you can't afford to pay that note, Bartrow; and my probability hangs on a hundred hazards. What if I fail?" The cashier had unlocked the street door for them, and Bartrow ran the splitter of hairs out to the sidewalk. "You're not going to fail if I can ever succeed in getting you in motion. Good Lord, man! can't you wake up and get a grip of the situation? It isn't the mere saving or losing of the bonanza; it's sheer life or death to Jim Garvin--and you say you owe him. Here,--this cab is as good as any. Midland office, my man; half time, double fare. Don't spare the leather." At eight-ten to the minute they were negotiating with the superintendent's chief clerk for a special engine to Aspen. Whereupon, as is foreordained in such crises, difficulties multiplied themselves, while the office clock's decorous pendulum ticked off the precious margin of time. Bartrow fought this battle, fought it single-handed and won; but that was because his weapon was invincible. The preliminary passage at arms vocalized itself thus:--