It was one of David Kinzie's small subtleties to make a man sit idly thus, on one pretext or another; it rarely failed to put the incomer at a disadvantage, and on the present occasion it worked like a charm. Baldwin had let his cigar go out and had chewed the end of it into a pulp before Kinzie swung around in his chair and launched out abruptly. "You and I have always been pretty good friends, Dexter," he began, "and I have called you down here this morning to prove to you that I am still your friend. Where is your man Smith?" Baldwin shook his head. "I don't know," he answered. "I haven't seen him since last evening." "Are you sure he is still in town?" "I haven't any reason to think that he isn't." "Hasn't run away, then?" The Missouri colonel squared himself doggedly in the suppliant debtor's chair, which was the one Kinzie had placed for him. "What are you driving at, Dave?" he demanded. "We'll tackle your end of it, first," said the banker curtly. "Do you know that you and your crowd have come to the bottom of the bag on that dam proposition?" "No, I don't." "Well, you have. You've got just this one more day to live." The Missourian fell back upon his native phrase. "I reckon you'll have to show me, Dave." "I will. Have you seen the weather report this morning?" "No." "I thought not. I've had a trained observer up in the eastern hills for the past week. The river rose four feet last night, and there are predictions out for more cloudbursts and thunderstorms in the headwater region. The snow is melting fast in the higher gulches, and you know as well as I do that there is at least a strong probability that your dam won't hold the flood rise." "I don't know it," asserted Baldwin stoutly. "But go on. You've got your gun loaded: what are you aiming it at?" "Just this: there is a chance that you'll lose the dam by natural causes before the concrete hardens; but if you don't, you're sure to lose it the other way. I told you weeks ago that the other people were carrying too many big guns for you. I don't want to see you killed off, Dexter." "I'm no quitter; you ought to know that, Dave," was the blunt rejoinder. "I know; but there are times when it is simply foolhardy to hold on. The compromise proposition that I put up to you people a while back still holds good. But to-day is the last day, Dexter. You must accept it now, if you are going to accept it at all." "And if we still refuse?" "You'll go smash, the whole kit of you. As I've said, this is the last call." By this time Baldwin's cigar was a hopeless wreck. "You've got something up your sleeve, Dave: what is it?" he inquired. The banker pursed his lips and the bristling mustache assumed its most aggressive angle.